The Devil's Bargain Ch. 05

She wasn't shy. Not only did she scootch forward and plant her pussy lips on my face, but she also took hold of my head, and pulled my lips into closer contact with her crotch.

Aarti clearly enjoyed that, but she slipped back, and then performed a nice feat of agility and coordination as she spun around, so that she was facing in the opposite direction. She backed up enough to sit her pussy right down on my mouth, but she also bent forwards and slipped her lips over my hardening cock.

I know that she was having a good time - she told me so - but Aarti wanted more. She sat up straight, but then slid her lower body down, over mine, leaving a wet, shiny trail down the centre of my chest. A moment later, she'd fully mounted me in the reverse cowgirl position.

Her pussy felt incredible. It was like the sauna of eternal delight. She moved like a sex demon, trying to coax the semen from my over-stimulated balls. I might have preferred to see her facing me, but I could not complain about her energy, or her riding skills.

She came first, but she was determined to drain me yet again. She succeeded.

And in the early hours of the morning, she kissed me again, and asked: 'Do you have enough left to take me from behind?"

***

For the next week, I saw Aarti every day. She lived so close by, it was easy to drop in on my way home from work, or from Mom's place. Or I could scoot over at a moment's notice. I simply couldn't resist.

She was just so damn sexy.

Aarti wasn't really into music. The only artists she listened to regularly were Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, and then only on weekends. She liked dancing to disco or Latin beat, but rarely knew one song from another. When meditating, or doing her yoga, she preferred 'Earth Sounds': waves on the shore, the wind through the leaves, or bird songs.

Speaking of yoga, she invited me over to try it with her. It was more difficult than I thought, in a physical sense, but there was another issue. I just couldn't keep my hands off her. First off, she wore a thin shift and a stretchy pair of yoga pants. That's it. No bra, no underwear.

Our first yoga session devolved into mad sucking and fucking on her yoga mat. I was no better on the second attempt: we ended up in a mad downward doggie position, with her yoga pants around her ankles.

- "Maybe we should just have sex when you come over." she said. "I can do yoga when you're not here."

- "I'm sorry." I said.

- "Don't be."

Aarti loved the cowgirl position, and doggie style. I certainly agreed with the former, because I could see her face, and watch or fondle her heavy breasts. Doggie was sometimes more intense, more animal, but less intimate.

After a second week much like the first, I was more enamored than ever. Then our relationship changed.

I received a phone call at work, from a Mrs. Kovacs. The name didn't register, at first, until she reminded me that she Mom's next door neighbour.

- "I'm at the hospital with your mother. She's had a fall ..."

I got there within half an hour.

Mom had started weeding in her garden (something that I was going to do for her that very day). She was carrying an old basket half-full of yard waste (she couldn't lift a full basket). Then she stumbled.

Afraid of landing on top of the basket, she twisted to the side, and then put out her hand to break her fall. The result: broken wrist, bruised hip, possible concussion. I thanked Mrs. Kovacs for her timely intervention, and let her get home to her own family.

- "Why couldn't you wait?" I asked Connie's Mom. "I would've been there right after work. We could have done it together."

- "I just wanted to get a head start." she said.

They'd already been waiting in the emergency waiting room for 45 minutes. We waited another three and a half hours. The only useful thing I achieved was getting hold of Lisa, and asking if she could walk and feed Freya.

- "No problem. I've got it." she said.

I understand that hospitals will take the most urgent, life-threatening cases first. Triage. I get it. But an eighty year-old woman with a fractured wrist and a possible concussion? Apparently not among the top ten.

- "She's very lucky." said the doctor we finally saw. "Fractured wrist, bruised hip. The reverse would have been much, much worse. She doesn't appear to have a concussion."

We left the hospital with Mom's wrist in a cast. And my life went down the tubes.

Mom eventually figured out to how make her morning coffee with one hand. But she had trouble opening (and eating) her yogurt. Anything more complicated than that was well-nigh impossible. She couldn't cook for herself, either.

I stayed over that first night, figuring that she needed my help more than Freya did. I got up early, made her coffee, and left her a note before heading home to walk the dog. Then I went to work. I phoned Mom to let her know that I would be at her house as soon as I could. Then I called Aarti to cancel our date for that evening. She wasn't thrilled, but she did understand.

That first week after Mom's fall was a learning experience. I had to discover what she couldn't do (opening cans, bottles, or yogurt containers), and what she could (use the toilet, wash herself, and phone me several times a day with questions or requests).

Mrs. Kovacs brought over some food (which Mom couldn't open). Sylvia (the cleaning lady) was a god-send: not only did she clean Mom's house, but she sat down with her for a few hours and chatted with her like they were old friends.

My saviour, though, was Lisa. She took over morning walks with Freya every second day so that I could stay over at Mom's, and get her sorted in the morning before going to work. After work, I could swing by my house, and bring Freya over to Mom's.

I discovered a meal-delivery service. I also spent far too much time trying to 'assist' Mom in preparing dishes that she liked (my labour, her instructions).

In the first two weeks after Mom's fall, I saw Aarti only three times. Twice for tea and sex at her place, and once when she came over to Mom's while I was there, bearing a plate of chicken and rice.

- "That's so thoughtful of you." I kissed her at the door - an interaction that Mom didn't miss. She didn't fail to recognize the receptionist from the lawyer's office, either.

It's amazing what you can learn about people, even after years of knowing them.

Aarti was considerate, and kind. Connie's Mom wasn't prepared for me to see other women. Her daughter had been dead for almost two years (and lost to me for many years before that), but apparently I wasn't allowed to move on.

Connie's Mom didn't like rice; it stuck in her dentures. But who knew that she didn't like brown people, either? She was almost rude to Aarti. Now if that was all of it, I could have understood that she was cock-blocking me on behalf of her deceased daughter.

But a day later, I found Aarti's chicken and rice in the garbage, and had to listen to Mom start talking about 'those people'.

- "She brought you food." I said. "Just like Mrs. Kovacs. You love your neighbour - but Aarti is 'those people'?"

I was angry with her. I didn't stay over that night. She wasn't going to starve in the next few hours.

It takes six to eight weeks for a fractured wrist to heal - longer when the patient is eighty years old. I wasn't sure that I could handle two more months of this.

*****

NOTE: Writer's note: I first wrote this scene with cards that I specifically chose for their meanings (including the Magician and the Devil), but the scene felt too contrived. So I shuffled the deck (minus the quartz & the incense), and chose five cards at random. The result was what you just read.