Rita barely slept a wink. Every time she tossed and turned, she could feel her muscles ache. She had heard the door shut over her head and had made a mental note of when Maya had come home. Judging by the footsteps, she knew Maya was alone.
As the sun climbed up the sky, she knew Maya would get suspicious by her absence. Rita slipped out of her bed, and gingerly walked over to her cabinet. She pulled out a scarf, but quickly realized that a scarf would look too silly over her white, printed shirt, and black pajamas. Standing in front of the mirror, she applied some foundation on her love bites, and ruffled her hair sufficiently, to cover any traces on her neck.
"Morning, Aunty," Maya said, her eyes glued to the newspaper, and with a cup of coffee in her other hand. "You slept till late today. It's almost 9 am."
"Oh yes. Was feeling a bit lazy this morning. Aren't you getting late for work?" Rita inquired, hoping she would disappear soon.
"Leaving now," Maya said, as she noticed a missed call on her phone screen. "Have a nice day, Aunty. And don't exert yourself too much!" Maya breezed through the door, slamming the door shut behind her.
Rita felt like yelling after her to call Maya back. The silence in the house was unnerving. Although she had made acquaintance with this silence ages back, it was different today. Did the wall clock always tick this loud?
Rita cleared the plates from this morning and rinsed the cups clean. There was a strange tension in her actions, as she dropped one cup onto the floor, and it shattered to pieces. Very gingerly, she bent down to collect the pieces, and put them in the trash.
"I should send him a text and tell him not to come. But I don't have his number. I could call his place, but what if he doesn't answer?" Rita was in a fix.
At about 945 am, she was nervously pacing up and down the hallway. Despite a nice cross breeze from the living room window, through the hallway, to the kitchen window, she was sweating profusely. "I should call him, and if he doesn't answer, I'll pretend to be someone else. Yes, good idea."
She quickly hobbled over to the phone but heard a knock on her door.
(Door opens)
"Dave! You're early!" Rita was a bit taken aback.
"Hello Mrs. S. Yes, I was told you have a plumbing issue. Such things can't wait." He whistled past her, leaving her leaning against the open door. "Come in, Mrs. S" Dave said, entering the hallway.
"Now look Dave, we really need to talk," Rita said anxiously, reluctantly shutting the door.
"Of course, but hear this first.." Dave pulled Rita close and drove his tongue down her throat. There was passion and experience in this kiss, as he collected her bum flesh in his large hands, grinding his groin against her. Rita was still flapping her hands, unsure of where to place them and what her response should have been. In a matter of moments, she was hanging onto his neck, as the two unlikely lovers swallowed each other's lips.
"Dave, wait, please, I need to talk to you." Rita said, pulling his hands away from her buttocks, as he tried to dart a finger up her rear.
"Oh man, do we have to?" Dave looked dejected, still heaving from kiss.
"Please. Come with me."
Rita was running on fumes as she guided him to the couch. Very reluctantly, he sat down on the three-seater, hitting her knees, as she sat down on the lone couch next to it.
"Dave. Please understand. This isn't right. I should have controlled myself yesterday. At your age, these fantasies are normal. But I can't let myself go like this." Rita was pleading, but she noticed that Dave was still eyeing her breasts.
"Dave are you listening to me?" Rita was loud.
"No, I'm not. I'm thinking about what you'd be looking like right now under that tight shirt of yours. I'm thinking about how sweaty you are right now, and how tasty your salts would be. I'm thinking about ripping your shirt open, right here, and chewing your nipples off. I'm thinking of your moans, as you spray all over my face!" Dave was digging his nails into the sofa fabric, and Rita was trembling with fear.
"But, I'm not going to do any of that. Not till you tell me. Not till you want me to. Rita, sex has nothing to do with age. Tell me your loins didn't burn last night. Tell me you didn't touch your scars from yesterday and think about me. Tell me you want me to go home right now!" Dave was leaning forward now, and he was staring at her with bloodshot eyes. Rita was at a loss of words at this stage, staring back at him like a confused kitten.
"I've got my answer, Mrs. S," Dave said, dejectedly getting from his seat. "Let's go back to being neighbors." He had played his last card, and it was either a summer full of sex or a slap against his cheek.
"Wait Dave, please sit down." Rita looked at him with pleading eyes, and Dave knew the decision had been made. He sat down in his old spot but leaned forward to come close to her.
"Dave," she said, slowly, "I've only read about women like me, or watched them in movies. We aren't given a very good name, and these relationships normally don't end well." Rita paused, and Dave was suddenly concerned. "I've spent all my life thinking about what others' might think of me. It's still important to me."
Dave was breathing very heavily now, and her new-found confidence was irking him. She suddenly looked up at him. "But, I'm willing to give it a try. I'm willing to explore a side of me that shocked me to the core, yesterday." Dave smiled.
