“Do you know how badly I want it?"
“I want it too”
“I want it too”
“But how? I am a mother”
“I will turn the mother into the woman she ought to be”
“No, that wouldn’t be right”
She had just come out of the bath and had dressed in her favourite yellow kurta, when he rang the bell. Although faded and worn out, the kurta made her feel beautiful. Her hair, as always, were tied back, and face was scrubbed clean. She smiled the smile that he was so fond of, and let him in.
They stood in the balcony, looking at the busy highway on a Friday night. The sky was bright and stars abundant. The gentle monsoon breeze played with a few stray strands of her hair, which, she repeatedly pushed away from her face. As they stood there looking at the stars, talking of the ten years that had passed between them, she slowly slid his arm around her waist and pulled herself closer. Her body moved rhythmically to her breath, which could be heard in the silence of the night. He slid his hand inside the kurta through the slit. Her skin was not that of a young girl, but of a mother. “Make me a woman again,” she said, looking into his eyes.
It was hard to say who wanted the other one more. Her mouth was as hungry as his. She held him close and tight as she kissed him passionately; she did not want to loose him again. He on the other hand, held her softly and gently, trying not to hurt her. His mouth explored her mouth; her face, her eyes, and her neck, while his hands caressed his favourite part of her body.
She had dreamt about this moment many, many times but had always been unsure about it. He was not her kind, and yet she was drawn to him since the first day. He had always been open about his relationships with her, and maybe that is what kept her away from him. In the years that had followed, they had been friends and co-workers but never lovers. And then they had lost touch. In the years they were apart, she had often woken up dreaming about him. She could never tell why.
He, on his part, had liked her too. She had always reminded him of things and of places he had left behind. Over the years he had grown very fond of her and valued her as a close friend. And then she had left, abruptly, and he had gotten busy with his life, until he found her again – just by chance.
After having loved her bottom, his hands were now on her smooth back. From under the kurta, he unclasped the hooks and pulled the fabric off her. In another moment they were in each other’s arms like long-lost lovers. Not a trace of awkwardness, not a sign of discomfort. Their bodies, like their minds, were made for each other. What followed was a dream come true. A dream that had taken ten years to be fulfilled.