23 Kick-OFF (2/2)

Jealousy.

I couldn't recall anything that happened between Madonna getting kissed and leaving out the front door. I came back to my senses when Amaan snapped her fingers in my face.

”Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Habib, I was, just, lost in thought.”

”No, Ms. Kiyomi, this isn't the time to be lost in yourself. You have me with you. How about we indulge ourselves in some quality time?”

”Su-Sure. Do you have something specific in mind?”

Amaan thought about something for a while, then held my hands and spoke, ”How about this? We have this huge estate to ourselves. I can take you on a tour, and we can enjoy ourselves to the fullest while we do that!”

That cheerful tone of hers was seductive.

I carefully stepped down from the stool and said, ”Lead the way.”

She grabbed my hand and led me to the staircase behind the bar.

Two minutes later, we were on the massage table.

Amaan had two massage tables in her house. She had two masseuses from Taiwan, and they were doing a phenomenal job on us.

I was face down laying on the massage table in my birthday suit. So was Amaan on the neighbouring table. We were both moaning in relief. My back hadn't felt that relaxed in years. My leg muscles were also relaxed to their limit. The masseuse's massage on my feet made me feel so light I thought I could walk on clouds. Fingers running all over my oil dipped body felt heavenly.

It was time to turn over, and so we did. My first instinct was to look at Amaan. She was laying on her back, with every part of her body exposed to three females in the room. I looked at her long luscious black hair. She had thrown it over her shoulder, so they were spilling from the table and were hanging in the air. They were thick, but shiny. My eyes went back to her face, which was brighter to look at in white light. She had no wrinkles whatsoever on her face. Her perfect eyelashes complimented her eyes. Her lips were juicy pink, and in the middle was a small nose.

I couldn't stop at her face and like gravity, my gaze was pulled downwards. She had a long neck for a lady, which merged with her shoulders like river flowing into the ocean. I could see her breasts as they fell a little on either side. Her dark nipple was like bullseyes on perfectly rounded breast. Her toned stomach was a subject of my jealousy.

I had to lift my head a little to peek at rest of her body. So I raised myself a little to observe everything under her torso. I could see she took very good care between her legs. She had a dark patch above her vagina, but it was cleanly shaven. Her legs were also smooth and without a mark. At last, she had perfect toenails, painted red.

I threw my head back on the table and sighed at myself.

”Like what you saw?” Amaan asked me the question I didn't want to answer. Not because I didn't like what I saw. I, of course, did. But it was equivalent of a teenage boy looking at porn magazines.

It was embarrassing.

”I'm really sorry, Ms. Habib. I didn't mean to-”

”Drop the Habib, darling. Its only you and me here. Call me Amaan.”

”Yes, okay.”

There was silence in the room.

”So, did you like- ”

”You aren't going to let go until I answer, would you?”

I could sense her smiling, so I closed my eyes in embarrassment.

”So, Kiyomi, tell me, how did you and Madonna meet?”, Amaan asked out of nowhere.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at her, but she was already looking in my direction. I turned my head on the beat and preferred staring at the white roof than closing my eyes again.

”We met in a village, not far from here.”

”Oh? Is that so?”

”Well, technically it was a forest. It was near to the village, so I opted to add it in my reply.” I was flustering in my replies.

Why was she asking me about Madonna all of a sudden?

”Is that it?”, Amaan asked.

”Well, that IS how we met.”

”Darling, I meant what led you to her. Surely you had a life before she met Madonna, right? As far as I can tell, and please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, you seem to have some Chinese, Japanese or Korean genes in you. I was curious as to how a Japanese girl could meet someone like Madonna in the middle of a forest in Nepal.”

That clarified what she wanted to ask about me.

The only pages in my life I never wanted to turn again.

Amaan continued, ”I mean, you and your wife are out here in a foreign land in an individual's house you never met before, seeking apologies for only one of you. I think I won't be the last customer, which means you get to listen to even more stories from Madonna's past. What I'm saying is, my darling, that I'd like to lend an ear to your story.”

I turned over on the table, looking at the floor made of limestone.

”Its not very interesting story. Besides, it's a long story.”

”We have a night to us. I guess I'll trade my past with you if that makes you comfortable.”

Amaan's offer wasn't impressive. Mad will be back by tomorrow, and I'll know everything about her and Mad.

But-

I guess-

Telling one more person won't hurt much, right?

I adjusted my face and closed my eyes, ”Once, there was a guy called Donald Anicrow…”