Making Love To A Beautiful Stranger
Sirens were ringing and people started rushing to get out. This could turn into a stampede, I thought as I reached the basement and went to open my car. Jeez! I’d left my keys in my jacket at the Westend store. The whole day had been going well. I was shopping at the new mall for my girlfriend’s birthday the next day. The gifts were a surprise for her. All was well up until the curfew was announced. People still wouldn’t take the announcements seriously, so the mall’s management had started evacuating people. Curfew would start in 15 minutes. I was already late when I walked back into the Westend store. Not a soul was present. I picked up my jacket and rushed back to the elevator. “Fuck no!” I cursed aloud. The elevators had been shut off. Running down the stairs, it dawned on me that 15 minutes were over. Pushing my luck, I started my car and raced up the ramp, immediately hitting the brakes as hard possible. My Polo stopped two feet away from the locked shutters. Wiping my sweat, I reversed back into the basement. I stashed all of my shopping bags into the boot. Cell network was out, so I put my phone in the center console, and walked back upstairs with a water bottle. My mind was busy calculating options, if I did find an open door, I’d be on foot. An easy target for the police, or worse, if rioters saw me, they might attack. Either my ears were ringing from the siren’s sound, or I heard a person’s voice. Then I saw her, walking in the opposite corridor. I yelled, “Hello, do you work here?” She waved at me to come over, obviously not wanting to have a shouting match. She looked fair and tall with a shopping bag. Probably not a mall worker I thought as I got closer. My heart started beating faster as I approached. She was gorgeous. Her face was strikingly beautiful. She had black silky hair, cut to a chin-length bob with a side-swept fringe. It appeared as though she had on some light makeup, penciled brows, big eyes, and chiseled features, with the prettiest lips ever. Her slim figure was slightly curvy with a 28-inch waist. She was wearing no other jewelry except a long hanging pearl in each ear. In her sleeveless white kurta and colorful chunni, she looked like she was coming straight out of a magazine cover or TV ad. If she had any hopes that I worked at the mall, it was probably dashed by now, after seeing my pumped, gym body. She must’ve figured that I’m also a shopper. “How did you get in?” She asked without formality. “I was here, didn’t get out,” I said as a matter of fact. There was silence for a few minutes as I drank my water and she checked for network on her phone. I sat down on a mall bench. She came and sat on the other side, with her shopping bag in between like a partition. I guessed her age could be around 25-ish, a couple of years older than me. After a long, awkward silence, she asked me how I got locked in. I told her my dumb story and she smiled, clearing up the air. When I asked about her story, she said, “I was getting a haircut. Really didn’t know what was happening, and then the salon staff walked out.” “Well, at least you look fab. Not that I know how you looked before,” I replied, getting comfortable. She laughed, touching her hair from behind, “It wasn’t finished, but thank you.” We spoke for some more time, guessing that curfew should be lifted the next day. Most of the shops had been left open so we were able to get food and someplace cozy to sleep. Neither of us wanted to talk about our lives. After all, this meeting would end soon. We would part ways. “Here,” she said, showing me her phone. “This is how I looked before.” I saw that she had straight long hair, past her shoulders, so she must’ve lost more than a foot of hair. “Wow! Big makeover,” I said. “Loved your long hair” “Sorry, you should’ve told me before,” she said, winking mischievously at me. “Wish we’d met before,” I shot back, trying to flirt with her. “Mister, are you hitting on me?” she continued in a sexy tone. I paused and asked to see her new hairstyle. She moved closer, removing the shopping bag from in between us. I asked her how come the haircut was not finished. She said everything was done except she had wanted to get her nape line trimmed. Her beautiful shimmering black hair was in a sharp A-line bob ending at her hairline, exposing her sexy neck. Gazing at her intoxicating beauty, I fell deeply and madly in love with her then and there! “Let’s finish the trim,” I offered. “Seriously?” She said with reservation. “Yeah, it’s no big deal,” I said, walking into the wide-open salon. She thought for a moment and followed me inside. Easing herself into a chair, she put a finger on her nape, “Just this much, straight line, ok?” I picked up an electric clipper and started slow and steady. I was holding her silky short hair with my free hand and running the machine with my other hand. The cold steel teeth of the heavy machine vibrating on her neck was an obvious turn on for her. “I’m, uh…, Rajiv,” I said, making up a name. “Me… Monica,” she said correcting herself, obviously faking it. As I ogled at her beauty, I noticed she was pressing her thighs together. Getting horny, I guessed correctly. I made a neat line on her nape, then cleaned up her sides. By this time, she had touched her pussy a few times. Dusting off her neck with a brush and powder, I bent down and told her she’s super cute. Her kurta had a deep wide neck, both in front and at back, showing flawless skin. Both of my hands were on her shoulders, and I couldn’t resist her sweet smell, so in that moment I gave her a quick kiss on her smooth cheek. She reached behind with her hand and pulled my head forward, kissing me directly on my lips. I turned her chair around and we started kissing.