A gift from the future

Walking was something she forced herself to do, not because she hated to, quite the contrary, she just hated dragging herself away from the computer, from him. Once she hit the footpaths though, her mind could expand to all kinds of fantasy, she could indulge herself with images of her and Yatish together.  
She would imagine how her world would seem through his eyes and take herself back to Mumbai or Bombay as it was known then, sixteen years earlier when she was twenty four, a time when she could abuse her body without consequence and when a simple, lingering glance at a the opposite sex was enough to spark desire. She remembered driving from the airport in a taxi, there were too many cars for the road it seemed. Not like traffic jams she had been in on the motor ways in England, where one would sit in orderly lines and crawl forward at a snails pace, this was chaos. Were there any lines in the road designating lanes, she wondered? It didn't seem like it, it didn’t seem like there was any order at all, it felt like cattle stampeding forward, every man, bus, rickshaw, taxicab and bicyclist for himself. 
Sitting in the cab with Yatish though she felt safe, she felt like a queen and he her protector. He could sense her anxiety and while he could not physically embrace her he whispered in her ear “come hide under my wing”, she softly smiled at him and mouthed, thank you. 
Wow, her whole life she had wondered where her knight was, yuck, she thought, too sappy? “OK, I need to make him a little more real than this”, she thinks aloud. But hadn’t he really said that to her? Yes she remembered, while her husband yelling in the background to get off her ass and do something, she told him “I am having a fight with my husband”, “you need to go”? he asked, “No, I would prefer to pretend he wasn’t here at all” she said truthfully, “Then come hide under my wing, Jaan” 
She sighs, how did Yatish know just what to say or do? she asked herself. One moment he was slamming her against the wet tile in the shower sucking and biting intensely on her nipples, grabbing her wrists tightly and fucking her hard, the next he was cradling her in his arms and kissing the tears away from her eyes, “dunna you cry, our love deserves no tears” he would say.
Maybe he was a figment of her imagination, no really, she thought what if none of it was real? She knew that someone, somewhere was showering her with love over cyber space. But what if she had in a future life regressed back to her current one through hypnosis, and been so sad about her past lonely self that she had actually invented herself a lover, a clone of herself only the opposite sex or a hologram. Someone who would not interfere with her destiny, he would be a world away in India, how exotic, of course she would invent herself an Indian, his black hair and dark skin, playful yet mysterious, exotic and of course erotic. The word erotic makes her tingle, she wants to see him, to be with him right now. She stops in her tracks and leans her back on a nearby tree, closing her eyes she grabs her breasts. “Oh Yatish” she beseeches “where are you”?
She continues to figure out how she could have invented him, she had heard his voice he had just the day before sent her a recorded message, she was pleasantly surprised, his voice was deep and raspy, he sounded slightly nervous, that’s good, it’s not a game, she thought, his feelings for her like her own are true. So perhaps in the future it is possible to clone oneself while crafting the person you wish for. Handsome but not too good looking, would not want to date anyone prettier than oneself, check... OK, but what about personality? If he is a clone he is therefore the same, is it possible to adjust that? And how would her future self give him a past that he could speak of? And what a past yatish had had. She gasps yes not unlike her own.
Her head is beginning to ache, this was stuff even Einstein hadn’t yet figured out and she was no Einstein, would run the idea past Yatish when she returned home she thought, she considers him to be much smarter than herself, aha another flaw in the clone theory.  Betty picks up the pace, she has been gone sufficiently long enough, he must be missing her by now and will be convinced by her having a real life. Not to mention she was feeling extremely horny and the entire day her only thrill was grabbing her tits under an oak tree.
She arrives at the house not quite sprinting, not wanting to draw attention to the urgent need to go online and see her cyber lover, she opens up her chat window and her heart sinks he is away, no green light smiling at her to talk, not even an orange one telling her to come wake him, she sighs, then she notices her mail, he has sent her an e-mail. This she needs to savor, his e-mails are never as frequent as hers, but always beautifully written. She fixes herself a cup of coffee, kicks her hiking boots off, then sits and begins to read; 
Dear Betty Jaan, it has come to my notice that you have officially created a li'l bit of a storm inside my head. This has resulted in an inability to even think straight. If this continues, i'm afraid i'm going to have to abduct you and keep you as my personal muse and eat you in little pieces for the rest of my life. I pray that you take this complaint seriously and prepare yourself for an onslaught ofribbons. Your nipples will never be the same again and your knees willbecome perfect strangers to each other. Hope you are ready for theconsequences.
Betty is beside herself,  WOW, did he just write that to me? She thinks, spinning herself around like a teenager being asked out on a first date by her her high school crush, it takes every bit of restraint to not run out of the house skipping and screaming with joy, if she could she would share his letter with all the people dearest to her, then she thinks for a moment, he is magic, any man who can make her feel this way must be magic and this she did not need to share with a living soul, he must be kept for her and her alone. 
She starts to feverishly type a response to him; My Dearest Yatish Jaan, WHERE ARE YOU? I came back from my walk, I read your e-mail, Oh Yatish please come back to me soon, I miss you.

Houdini

“Are you leaving soon, darling?” She cringes at herself for asking, the idea he will vanish without forewarning causes a knot in her belly.  “I may do a Houdini on you sweetness but I will be back as soon as I can, don’t you go anywhere, besides I am not done ravaging you, I want to stick a fork in you and eat you up piece by piece, LOL” must be an Indian thing, she thinks, she can’t imagine any American asking if he could eat her in such a fashion, maybe he hasn’t seen silence of the lambs yet, she contemplates... “like osmosis” he continues. Hm, phew, much better... 

“With a glint in her eye her fingers hovering above the keys she mimes typing in anticipation, then with a fiendish smile she begins; “I wonder what you taste like? Lifts up Yatish’s shirt and touches the tip of Betty’s tongue on Yatish’s tummy... yummy” His stomach is flat, she finds his belly button and circles her tongue around it, in an almost perfect line down to the top of his jeans sitting comfortably on his hips, is a smattering of hair, she feels his muscles tighten as she makes him quiver from the teasing caress of her tongue, her breath sending cool whispers across the damp labyrinth she has left behind, salt- he tastes like salt! He grabs her hair, pulling her head back, he needs a moment to regain his strength, she looks up at him with seductive, yet adoring eyes. He is her master and pawn, her fantasy turned reality, her dark side and her angel. Her smile is cheeky, he can take no more teasing, with one hand firmly holding her hair, his other hand unzips his jeans, then without wasting any time lets go of Betty’s hair, he knows she will do exactly what he desires, they are one body and one mind, bending space and time to become whole. Like a flawlessly conducted symphony his gasps of breath, his deep voice gently moaning in perfect time and harmony with every thrust of her head and lick of her tongue. 

“CRAP” She reads the word on the screen with alarm and dismay, “What?” She asks “My boss just walked in, I gotta go, wait for me Jaan” scrambling to find her own piece of reality, she types back “I have to go walk the dog but I will look for you when I get back, miss me, I miss you already”  before she can even hit enter, Yatish has left their chat window, poof, gone. Should she climb into her own bed and continue to embrace her Indian lover, should she sit and stare longingly at the computer, maybe his boss is just stopping by for a quick visit, she could occupy her time surfing the net, checking out airfares to Mumbai, maybe she could walk the dog he looks sort of sad these days and sometimes even confused or disgusted she thinks when he has observed her climaxing.

She rereads their conversation and notices how long they were chatting, how is it possible that so much time had passed? The chat takes only a few minutes to read, seems fitting considering her time with Yatish felt so fleeting yet it had been hours since she first logged on still half asleep. 

A wave of sadness washes over her, remembering how empty her bed felt that morning and how much she wanted beside her,  she knew that waking up to him would feel like an extension of her dreams. Envisioning him pressed up behind her, their bodies in the shape of a Z, it takes little imagination for her to feel his penis inside her, she slumps back in her chair her eyes are closed, with three fingers she grabs her pussy, OMG she needs him inside her so bad, she can not wait for him a moment longer, she thinks she will scream, within a few short minutes she has come to an orgasm, her body shaking, she is flushed, sweating, she has removed one breast from her bra, her legs are spread open. Wow, too many windows in this room she thinks, she hadn’t considered that the computer room would be used for such a purpose when she designed the house, she laughs at the idea of of this being a lesson at a school of architecture “when designing a home for a sex starved forty year old woman, addicted to the internet and going through a mid-life crisis, keep in mind the proximity and visibility of the home office” she imagines a mature gray haired professor stating. 

Her screen is black, asleep, she moves the mouse over the pad to wake up the computer, nothing, he is still away and she has no idea if she will see him that day or not. Time to walk the dog, she sighs. 

Levitate me

It had been six months since he last showered her with any love. Indeed the last time she spoke to him at all, three months prior he was rude, accused her of groveling, in truth that's exactly what she was doing, but still her desire for him was so intense, her pussy ached pleading with her to beg him and she found her hand reaching down her pants to feel the moisture between her legs. If she wasn't so convulsed with pain and nauseous from the shame,  she may have actually been able to give herself an orgasm, how ironic her desire was the one thing that prevented her from relieving her frustration. The idea of fantasizing over him then or even just finding pleasure from that kind of stimulation caused her to sink yet deeper into the abyss of despair and torment. 

She tries to keep her head remembering six months earlier when she would stare hour after hour at the computer screen- where was he? When would he come and elevate her mind, body and soul? Still her thoughts romance her back to when like a genie he would appear “tadahh”  and her tummy would flip, this wasn’t a computer screen; this was magic and an escape from all the harsh realities of her life. 

From that moment there were no dishes, there were no bills, no kids and certainly no husband. For now there was only her Indian lover and he was going to make her dance, she was going fly higher than any bird, her dowdy robe and unbrushed hair was now naked wet skin,  sparkling beads of ocean water made her glisten in the sunlight, her hair dripping wet sending a stream of water trickling down her breasts, her nipples erect, his finger catches the stream running slowly up across the curve of her belly, then the palm of his hand slides across her wet breast , she tosses her head back and he pulls her close to him pressing his hard cock between her thighs. She knew he would never be so crass to fuck her in that moment, he wanted her to crave him, he knew she would beg him to soon, but she did want him to. She was weak, she was putty but she wore a frown caused by her longing. He pulls away from her, “dance for me” he demands of her. 

She feels her nipples against the keyboard she laughs at herself for a moment, she is at her desk and her imaginary Indian lover is in India, “my breasts grew an entire size I swear, is that possible?” She asks him "conjurer of big breasts”   You are the one turning a man on a million miles away, I am in so much trouble if my boss walks in.” She likes the power and the challenge, she needs to take him away from thoughts of bosses. “Where can I dance for you? “he’s typing she waits, she wants to touch her self but knows he wants her to be patient “Dance over me, dance around me, dance with me.” “can I straddle on you and feel you inside me, if  I promise to dance your penis in and out of me, PLEASE??????” she begs. 

“Come with me Jaan, I want to take you somewhere”  She loved it when he called her Jaan (sweetheart in Hindi) “where are you taking me darling”? He takes a length of red silk ribbon and wraps it around his hand, strokes her face, leaning in, he kisses her gently on the lips, then his tongue looks for hers, she leans back as he slams her against the wall her arms reach in the air as she surrenders to him. He takes her wrist and wraps the ribbon around and around and like a puppeteer he spins her, she giggles and again he pulls her into his cock this time her behind feels the stiffness of his penis as he bites her neck. She lets out a little cry and he unties her wrists, tenderly he kisses her neck, he blows gently in her ear and whispers in Hindi, she has no clue what he speaks, she does know that every breath and syllable makes her buckle and she fears she can take no more, she wants him with a passion she has never known before.