Enshrined

Chapter 1

“Yes!” Andre hissed triumphantly as the eight-ball lazily tumbled into the side pocket. Most of the other half-dozen guys gathered around the table cheered raucously at the satisfying conclusion to a well-played game.

“Ah, shit…” Rusty complained, as he hung his head in defeat.

“We win! Pay up, losers!” Andre playfully teased his friends.

With a frustrated sigh, Rusty rested his pool cue in the crook of his arm as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Just a couple of lucky shots, ‘Dre,” Rusty commented as he grudgingly handed over a fifty.

“Naw! Skill, baby! All skill!” Andre refuted with delight as he accepted his winnings.

“Simon? C’mon, dude, don’t leave me hanging,” Tom ‘Zim’ Zimmerman, the other half of the victorious duo, prompted, as he held his hand out, expectantly.

“Huh? Oh, right! Sorry, Zim,” Simon apologized, as it dawned upon him that the game was finally over. Despite towering over him at six-foot-six, Zim’s lanky frame and perpetual hang-dog expression combined to make him the most non-threatening giant Simon had ever met.

He reached back for his wallet to retrieve his half of the $100 wager he and his best buddy, Rusty, had staked on the game.

“…of course it helps that you had a partner who wasn’t comatose!” Rusty complained to Andre, loud enough for the whole pool hall to hear. The other guys gathered around all chuckled.

“Thanks, pal!” Zim said with a broad grin, as Simon placed a $50 note in his hand.

“You okay, man?” he asked with concern a moment later.

“Yeah! I mean apart from not being able to afford my phone bill or heating, now that I’m officially broke…” Simon deflected.

“Oh, you are breaking my heart!” Zim replied sarcastically. Simon smirked.

“Simon… What the hell, man?” Rusty admonished his best friend as he slid up to him from his right-hand side. “You couldn’t make a single shot?”

“I don’t know, Rus’. I guess I just wasn’t feeling it,” Simon somberly responded.

“Wasn’t feeling it? I just got a fifty dollar bite taken out of my right ass cheek! I don’t know about you, but I’m sure as fuck feeling *that*!” Rusty replied, delicately as ever.

“Okay! So who’s up next?” Andre called from the far end of the pool table.

“Not me!” Simon was quick to respond. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Really?” Rusty asked with surprise as Simon handed him his cue. It wasn’t even 9 o’clock yet.

“Yeah, I’m just tired. I’ll catch you tomorrow,” Simon explained.

“Okay, whatever,” Rusty responded, unfazed.

After farewelling the rest of his friends, Simon made for the pool hall’s main exit and stepped out into the cool night air. The streets in this part of town were mostly deserted after dark, leaving Simon all alone with his thoughts for the 10-minute walk home.

Geographically, he might have known exactly where he was going. But his life as a whole? That was a completely different story.

College life just wasn’t what he expected it to be. He’d been starting to notice that the coursework wasn’t holding his interest anymore. He was seriously starting to wonder whether engineering was right for him. But that was only part of the problem.

When he and Rusty left their lecture hall earlier that morning, Simon was confronted with a sight that really dampened his spirits.

Francine Vandromen, hands-down the most gorgeous babe on campus, making out in the parking lot with Roy Connors, captain of the basketball team. It had only been a couple days since she’d broken up with her last boyfriend, and she was already off the market!

Of course, Simon knew that even if she were single, he didn’t really have a chance with a 5-star babe like her. But watching Roy Connors feel her up, through those skin-tight clothes that proudly displayed every curve of her perfect body, made for a painful reminder of how barren Simon’s love life had been here.

He’d always dreamed that it wouldn’t take him long to get a proper girlfriend once he got to college. But somehow, it just hadn’t happened. That drought in his love life was the main source of his present doldrums.

Spending his nights hanging out with the guys was getting stale. More and more often, Simon found himself zoning out during those gatherings, yearning to cuddle up beside a girl he could call his own.

As far a Rusty was concerned, he and Simon shared a common problem. “Shit, dude. We need to get laid!” was the crude assertion he made, about a dozen times per week, on average. In fact, that had been his reaction when they’d spotted Roy making out with Francine, earlier that day.

But Simon’s sentiments weren’t quite so simple. For Simon, the real absence in his life wasn’t the passing ecstasy of sex; it was the affection that lingered in the aftermath. He wanted sex. But what he wanted even more was to wake up next to a lover, greeting him with a warm smile, and a sparkle in her eyes that said, “That was wonderful! We should do this again, sometime – soon!”

Unfortunately, most mornings after he’d ‘gotten lucky’, Simon would wake up alone. On the couple of exceptions, the atmosphere had been tepid and awkward. Whatever chemistry there had been between himself and those girls had burnt itself out after a single night of shallow lust.

All things considered though, Simon had to admit that Rusty had a point: he hadn’t gotten laid in ages! Right now, a hearty roll in the hay with a member of the fairer sex felt like just what the doctor ordered; even if it was just a one night stand.

He snorted a heavy, frustrated sigh as he finally lifted his gaze from the sidewalk. He’d been looking down at the ground for so long that his neck actually ached in protest as he craned his head back to check for oncoming traffic. This intersection was usually dead this time of night, but better safe than sorry.

He was about to cross the street when he noticed something odd, some way down the next block. Atop one of the apartment buildings, on the other side of the street, was an odd yellow glow.

Simon had made this trip a hundred times, and there had never been a light like that on those roofs before.

He knew it was none of his business, but his curiosity was piqued: he decided to go check it out.

His pace hastened with purpose, as he stalked the mysterious glow to the precise building it seemed to emanate from. It was a narrow apartment block, seven or eight stories tall, by Simon’s estimate. Its facade was weather-worn, but bright. The subtlest hint of hue gave Simon the impression that the building had once been a distinct shade of yellow, before the sun had bleached it to its current pale state.

On its right side, the building was flush against its neighbor. But on the left was a wide alley that looked promising. Promising, perhaps, but hardly welcoming.

After crossing the street, Simon tentatively ventured into the dark alley, his fight-or-flight instincts beginning to kick in to gear as he began to have thoughts of being pounced upon by a crazed homeless person, or a gang of teenage delinquents looking for trouble. The fact that the alley seemed deserted on first glance didn’t entirely ease his anxieties, but it helped.

It didn’t take him long to spot the fire escape snaking up the building’s exterior.

“Awesome! That’s my way up!” he thought.

As he lowered his gaze to the escape’s first-floor landing, he was surprised to notice that the ladder was already extended, granting him remarkably direct access to the roof. The convenience of it all did not sit well with Simon. It was as if someone, or something, was practically daring him to go up there. And he couldn’t imagine any honorable reason why somebody would want to lure a person up to a dark roof in the middle of the night.

But despite his misgivings, his curiosity would not be swayed. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he marched briskly in to the dark alley, and took the cold metal ladder in-hand.

“What the fuck are you doing, Simon?” he asked himself in disdain, as the pointlessness of this little adventure finally began to dawn on him.

He had a tendency to get like this from time-to-time; to become fixated upon some trivial little impediment or puzzle, and to pursue its solution almost obsessively. It tended to happen when he was very bored, or especially frustrated about something going on in his life. Nursing a months-long sex drought certainly qualified.

It was a smooth journey up to the roof, though he took care to traverse the staircase as quietly as possible. He didn’t want to risk one of the apartment residents hearing him outside their window and calling 911.

His pace slowed even more as he ascended the final set of stairs leading to the roof. He had no idea what he was going to encounter up there, or, more importantly, if whoever was up there would be friendly.

Cautiously, he lifted his head for a stealthy peek over the roof’s ledge.

The roof was blanketed in darkness and silence. Simon couldn’t see very well, but from what he could see, there was no one about.

A small section of the roof was illuminated by the curious orange glow that had drawn him up here. But the source of the light was hidden behind the oddly bulky roof access structure. Judging by the way the light seemed to wax and wane, Simon surmised that it was coming from a small fire.

He delicately climbed the final stairs one by one, until he was throwing his legs over the 3-foot-tall brick wall that encircled the entire roof. He edged over towards the source of the light, readying himself to start throwing punches incase somebody ambushed him.

When he finally peered around the corner of the roof access structure, Simon was astonished by what he saw.

The light wasn’t being cast by a single flame, but by a large assortment of candles. Simon estimated there was at least fifty, comprising a wide variety of colors, shapes and sizes. They were all arranged around some sort of rudimentary construction: an elevated wooden plank covered with a purple cloth, and decorated with wooden, earthen, and metallic statues; and what appeared to be, at first glance, a metal bowl filled with liquid.

It took Simon a couple seconds to realize what the structure was: a shrine! Instantly, his blood ran cold. Was this the place where some deranged wacko went to receive orders from his Lord Beelzebub? Or was it just some angry goth kid’s way of lashing out at mom and dad for hassling him to go to church every Sunday?

Upon examining the shrine further. Simon’s anxieties eased a little. The statues upon the makeshift altar all appeared to be Asian in style. Many them had four arms. Ceremonial markings, which he’d only just noticed upon a wooden backing panel behind the shrine, included text, in what Simon guessed to be a south-east Asian script. So this probably wasn’t devil-worship or witchcraft; at least, not in the Western sense.

As reassuring as that thought was, Simon did another quick survey of the entire rooftop, just to be sure. It was difficult to be certain in the dark, but as far as he could tell, he was completely alone.

He cautiously advanced upon the shrine, for a closer inspection. He noticed now that there was another ceremonial design, similar to the backing board’s, marked upon the ground immediately in front of the shrine. From its many subtle imperfections, Simon concluded that it’d been drawn freehand. Nonetheless, whoever had marked out the elaborate design had clearly done so with great care, and resolve. At first, Simon assumed they’d been made in red chalk. But he realized now that their color was too rich to be chalk; perhaps something more like a crayon?

After hesitating for a second, he stepped over the red U-shaped outline that encompassed all the other markings on the ground. It seemed to mark the boundary of the entire shrine. Now, standing just in front of the makeshift altar, he was able to closely examine its ornaments.

The centerpiece of the whole set-up was the object that he’d originally thought to be a metal bowl. Looking at it close-up, now, he realized that it was much more elaborate than a mere bowl. It appeared to be a detailed sculpture of a lotus flower, about ten inches in diameter. The dozens of cupped petals each formed a separate compartment upon the sculpture’s surface, each one filled with what appeared to be a viscous, dark oil of some sort.

The object itself was surrounded by a garland of white flowers that immediately reminded Simon of a Hawaiian lei. They were very fresh, as if they’d only just been picked. Many other fresh flowers were scattered individually across the altar and the nearby ground.

Simon bent over and very carefully cupped both his hands beneath the metal lotus, taking care not to disturb the ‘lei’ around it. He lifted it up, for a better look. It was heavy for its size – well over five pounds. Simon sniffed the oil it contained and found it to have a very pleasant floral aroma. He lifted the lotus a little higher to study its underside, taking care to keep it level so that none of the oil would spill. An intricate pattern had been engraved all over its polished, mirrored surface.

Now looking at it close-up, Simon came to the stunning conclusion that the sculpture appeared to be cast out of pure silver! The craftsmanship was exquisite, too. This piece wouldn’t have been cheap, or easy, to acquire!

He lifted his gaze to look at the rest of the shrine once again. The authentic statuettes; the elaborate ritual markings, which he estimated would’ve taken at least an hour to draw; and now this high-quality, authentic silver centerpiece. Whoever built this shrine had put some serious effort and money into it. This wasn’t just kids fooling around! Whoever it was, they were invested heart and soul in whatever religious function this shrine was meant to serve!

Simon realized that anybody who was devoutly religious about this shrine probably wouldn’t take kindly to him disturbing their sacred site. He figured he should just put the lotus back as he had found it and get out of there before anyone discovered him.

Just as he began to lower the lotus, something caught his eye in the pools of oil, and he paused. He wondered for a second if his eyes had been playing tricks on him before he saw it again. It moved briskly, like waves of light rippling across the interior surface of the sculpture, shining right through the opaque purple oil.

The lotus began to vibrate in his hands, like a phone, except it was a higher frequency and much more powerful.

Then he felt the hairs on his arms beginning to rise, as the shimmering light within the lotus grew denser and more frenzied. Some of the hairs on his head followed suit soon after.

The next thing Simon knew, he was blinded. All he could see was a field of brilliant white.

“Holy fuck!” he cursed.

The nighttime noises of the city all seemed to suddenly disappear. He half expected the ominous silence to be broken by something terrifyingly loud; but the fright never came. Somehow, he retained the presence of mind to not spill anything from the heavy lotus sculpture.

Before Simon could begin to panic over the loss of his senses, the whiteness before him began to fade into darkness, with hints of form gradually emerging from the featureless sea of light. His ears began to pick up a very distant roar that sounded like traffic.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked himself aloud.

It took maybe thirty seconds, but eventually, his senses were fully restored. As they returned, he felt a strange, relaxing warmth permeating his entire body. It seemed to be radiating from around his diaphragm, and flowing through his spine to the extremities of his arms and legs. As it spread, the muscles that had tensed up when he was blinded all relaxed, one by one. By the time his vision was completely restored, Simon felt surprisingly calm.

Nonetheless, he was more convinced than ever that he needed to put the lotus back and leave the roof immediately. He was no longer afraid; he just felt that leaving was the wisest thing to do.

He gently lowered the ornament back on to the shrouded altar, then carefully withdrew his hands, once again taking special care not to disturb the ‘lei’ that encircled the lotus’ designated place.

After stepping back from the altar and exiting the shrine’s boundary, Simon whipped his head around left, and then right; partly to see if he could spot some clue as to what had blinded him, and partly as one final check to see if he’d been spotted.

Finding nothing of interest, he turned and made a hasty exit back to the fire escape.

Chapter 2

Simon sighed deeply as he stared right through the partially-completed CAD design on his laptop screen. The assignment wasn’t due until a week from Wednesday. Plenty of time. Too much time.

As usual, he had sat down in the library with the best intentions of getting a sizable portion of his work done nice and early, so he wouldn’t end up grinding through everything at the last minute. But without the pressure of a deadline bearing down on him, his mind wandered. He’d barely accomplished anything in the past hour.

His thoughts kept drifting back to that night on the building roof, three days earlier. Specifically, he was wrapped up in the mystery of what had caused that flash that had momentarily blinded him.

His leading theory was that there had been some sort of electrical fault in the building’s wiring. It explained the flash, and the reason why his hairs had stood on end. But there were a lot of holes in that theory, too.

Still, it was the only theory he could come up with that even came close to making any sense. For a compulsively inquisitive mind like Simon’s, it was a maddening mystery.

He’d been tempted, over the past couple days, to return to the rooftop and search for clues. But the fact that the place had some mysterious religious significance to someone deterred him. He wasn’t concerned about a violent reprisal; it was more that he didn’t want to offend anyone by trespassing upon a sacred place where he wasn’t welcome.

Simon had been so preoccupied with his private little mystery, he hadn’t seen the girl tentatively shuffle over to his side. Nor did he hear her when she very softly cleared her throat, in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

“Um… H… Hello? Simon?” She muttered at barely more than a whisper.

Simon looked over his left shoulder to see who it was. The girl retreated half a step, as if she’d been spooked by the sudden movement of his head. A split second before he was able to make eye contact, her eyes darted timidly to the ground.

It took Simon a couple seconds to realize that he did, in fact, recognize this girl. She was that weird loner who was in his engineering class. He had a vague recollection that he’d heard her name mentioned at some point; but he couldn’t recall it off the top of his head.

She was a sad, frumpy little thing; dressed from head to toe in a dreary gray outfit that seemed well suited to her standoffish personality.

Her clothes seemed a shade too formal for everyday college wear. Yet at the same time, they failed spectacularly to evoke even the slightest sense of style. The shoulders of the dowdy light-gray jacket seemed stiff and excessively broad; an effect that clashed awkwardly with the rest of her diminutive frame. The plain white blouse she wore beneath the jacket looked to be perhaps a size too large. Her skirt matched the jacket, made of hefty, coarse gray fabric that came down well below her knees.

She wore rectangular glasses over her evasive eyes, with thick black frames that couldn’t possibly have been any less subtle. Simon knew that a good pair of glasses could often make a woman look prettier, but these eyesores didn’t suit this poor girl’s face at all. With their smooth plastic sheen, they looked as if they were the cheapest thing the optometrist sold.

Perhaps the saddest thing about her outfit was that, as far as Simon could remember, it was the exact same one she wore to college every single day.

At the front of her skirt, her restless hands were clasped together, twisted around each other in a position that looked uncomfortable. She looked as if she didn’t know what to do with them.

“Oh! Um… Hi!” Simon greeted her in a fluster. Suddenly, her name was on the tip of his tongue. What was it? All he could do was give it his best guess. “Um… Sharnie, right?” he asked, softly wincing at what immediately felt like the wrong name.

“It’s, uh, Chaarvi, actually…” the girl quietly corrected him. She seemed embarrassed about having to correct him, which made Simon even more uncomfortable.

“Um, can… can I sit down?” she asked, glancing towards the empty seat to Simon’s left.

“Please…” Simon welcomed her politely with a gesture of his hand.

“Thank you,” she acknowledged in barely more than a whisper.

He gazed at her attentively as she settled in to her seat, but the shy girl refused to lift her face to look at him.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” she told him, after seemingly taking a second to steady her nerves.

“Um, okay. Shoot,” Simon agreed.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Chaarvi spoke some strange words he didn’t understand. Her head was bowed so low, he could barely see her face at all, let alone make eye contact. She was practically talking to his shoes. So even if she’d been speaking English, he would’ve likely found it difficult to make out what she was saying.

Yet despite the fact that she was frustratingly quiet, she wasn’t mumbling. Her words, whatever they may have been, were oddly crisp and articulate, as if she were taking special care to make herself understood – except for the fact that she was speaking the wrong language.

Simon simply sat there in silent bewilderment, until she had finished, and then some. Her monolog seemed to be little more than a couple sentences in length.

Eventually, he offered his awkward response, “Uh… I’m sorry? I… I don’t know what that means.”

Chaarvi remained eerily motionless beside him, her head still bowed.

“I’m sorry. I thought you might understand,” she timidly apologized, still refusing to make eye contact as she stood up to leave.

Simon watched with concern as she fled the library. Her footsteps were steady, but her overall body language was that of a young woman who was primed to jump at the sight of her own shadow.

“Strange girl!” he thought to himself, with a furrowed brow.

What had she been trying to say to him? What language was she even speaking? He could tell it wasn’t Spanish, French, or Italian; not that he was fluent in any of them. Simon hazarded a guess, based on her apparent Indian ethnicity, that it could’ve been Hindi.

Why on Earth would she presume that some random white guy would speak Hindi?

Regardless, he hoped that she was all right. If anyone else had reached out to him with such obvious discomfort, Simon would’ve assumed that they were in real distress. But in this case, he got the impression that this was the girl’s typical demeanor.

He found that oddly comforting. Although she had been painfully shy, Simon had seen no sign from her that she was upset. That led him to suspect that, whatever she had wanted from him, it wasn’t serious.

At a loss for what to make of the bizarre encounter, he turned his attention back to his work. But he was nonetheless unsettled by what had just happened, and it was some time before he was able to properly focus.

* * * * *

The sun was casting long shadows when Simon decided to head home for the day.

Rusty had hounded him to come hang out with the guys again tonight, but Simon couldn’t be bothered. He just wanted an easy night chilling in front of the TV; perhaps finding something mildly captivating he could binge through on Netflix.

It had hardly been a taxing day, but he was tired. Tired of the humdrum of study. Tired of his part-time job, even though he hadn’t even had a shift there in a couple days. Tired of trying to spackle over the wasteland that was his love life by hanging out with his guy friends, non-stop. Just tired.

He’d thought nothing of the indistinct figure sitting on the front stoop of his building, when he’d spotted them from a block away. It wasn’t until he got within about a hundred feet that he realized who it was.

Chaarvi.

She seemed to have been caught off guard when she turned her head and saw Simon approaching. But as sharp as her reaction may have been, Simon’s surprise was even greater.

He’d practically forgotten his bizarre exchange with her in the library earlier that day. Finding her at the front of his apartment building proved to be a sobering reminder.

“My god! What’s she doing here?” he wondered. “Is she waiting for me? What the hell does she want?”

From the way she had risen to her feet expectantly as he approached, Simon quickly realized that she was indeed waiting there for him. He sighed in frustration and forced a gentle smile as he closed the distance between them. There was nothing more he could do, except hope that this meeting would be less awkward than their last.

“Chaarvi! How’s it going?” Simon greeted in his friendliest voice. “Surprised to see you here,” he remarked.

“Hi, Simon,” she replied in a soft, yet clear voice. Again, she refused to make eye contact with him; her gaze lingering somewhere down near his breast pockets. “Sorry about bothering you in the library earlier,” she apologized.

“Oh! That’s fine,” Simon assured her, “No problem!”

“I realize it was probably very confusing,” Chaarvi acknowledged.

Before Simon could respond, she continued, “I’ve just been wondering, lately: Do you get lonely, Simon?”

Simon was speechless. It was such a strange question for a perfect stranger to just blurt out like that. What made it even more unsettling was the fact that he had indeed been feeling very lonely recently. For a split second, he actually wondered if Chaarvi could read his mind. He hadn’t even confided those feelings to his closest friends!

Something about Chaarvi seemed different this time. She was still shy, but when she spoke, her words flowed more smoothly and deliberately. It was almost as if she’d rehearsed what she was going to say, until she had complete faith in the words. Her body language was much more relaxed, as well. She didn’t look as if she were about to flee from the conversation at any moment.

“I’ve been feeling really lonely recently,” Chaarvi continued. “And I was sort of hoping that you might keep me company?”

“Wait a second… Is she asking what I think she’s asking?” Simon wondered with astonishment.

“Maybe we could go up to your place and… ‘talk about it’?” Chaarvi prompted him. “I mean, if you want to, that is.” she meekly qualified with a shrug.

It was beyond any doubt now – she was coming on to him! Though Simon could still hardly believe it. It was easy to forget that even shy loners like Chaarvi must get horny from time-to-time.

Was this what that weird encounter in the library had been all about? Had she meant to proposition him, but lost her nerve at the last minute?

When he didn’t immediately respond, she lifted her gaze and looked directly at him, for the first time ever. There was an endearing vulnerability glistening in her light-brown eyes, which instantly put Simon much more at ease. For the first time, he felt like he could see past the ‘odd’, and finally see a person he could somewhat relate to.

Beneath her tragic lack of fashion sense, she wasn’t really a bad-looking girl. It was her standoffishness that made her unattractive, more than anything else.

Simon hesitated to answer her. He knew nothing about this girl. But she was clearly very strange. His better judgement urged him not to get involved with a girl so unusual and unfamiliar. Though staring into her gentle, timid eyes, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d jumped to some unfair conclusions about Chaarvi.

As far as he could see, the girl standing before him was just a shy, lonely young woman, yearning for a bit of no-strings-attached human companionship. There wasn’t anything suspicious about that.

Being bookish and retiring, she wasn’t exactly his type. But she no doubt had a pleasant, warm, female body beneath that unflattering suit and Simon couldn’t deny that he’d been pining really badly for some of that, especially over the past week. For all he knew, they could end up having a lot of fun together.

“Yeah, sure!” he eventually agreed, with a chuckle and cheerful smirk that effectively concealed his mixed feelings about the decision.

A brief, genial smile flashed on to Chaarvi’s face like a reflexive spasm. Her lips parted, as if to quietly mouth, “Okay,” but no sound came out.

No sooner had Simon given her his answer then she broke eye contact; her gaze dropping rapidly to the sidewalk, as if staring directly at him for four consecutive seconds had been exhausting. Simon began to suspect that she was going to completely avoid eye contact throughout… whatever it was that they were about to do. Immediately, he began to have second thoughts, fearing that this was going to be a disaster.

Nonetheless, he led her up the stairs into the building. “Come on up!”

No words passed between them as they climbed up the dull, brown stairs to the 2nd floor hallway. Simon considered making an effort at small talk, but decided against it. He felt as if his clumsy attempts to start a conversation would only increase the tension in the air.

He retrieved his keys from his right-hand pocket as they travelled the final few yards to his door. The familiar ritual was a welcome comfort. It almost made him feel happy. His apartment door, which had a tendency to stick in damp weather, opened smoothly as it welcomed him home.

He chivalrously stood aside and ushered Chaarvi in. Ordinarily, he would’ve flirted with his date with a debonair, “Apres vous.” But Chaarvi’s tense body language stifled his playful impulses, so he stayed silent.

Chaarvi responded to his courtesy with a whisper-quiet, “Thank you.”

He followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

“I know it’s not much,” he apologized for the humble little one-room dwelling, “but it’s comfortable.”

He noticed that the bed was still unmade and that his desk was, as usual, a mess of loose papers and other stationary. He hadn’t been expecting company. He hoped the mess wouldn’t upset Chaarvi. She seemed like the kind of person who probably had a compulsive neat streak.

Chaarvi didn’t answer.

Simon wasn’t sure what came next. Did she want to talk? Did she want to sit and take some time to get comfortable? Or did she want to get ‘straight down to business’? Normally, he could read a girl’s intentions pretty well and just go with the flow. But nothing about this felt ‘normal’.

Chaarvi didn’t keep him wondering for very long. She turned around to face him, making eye contact once again. That, alone, surprised Simon. But even more surprising was the intensity of her gaze. The meekness that had wallowed in her eyes previously was long gone. Now, Simon felt like he was being stared at like some kind of prey. The eyes that were so anxious to avoid him only a minute ago, now seemed unwilling to look away.

Her lips parted as she slowly stepped forward to close the distance between them. She pursed them as she leaned in. Then she paused for a moment, as if she expected Simon to meet her half-way. Simon was so stunned by what was happening that he missed the cue; so Chaarvi craned her head forward and gently pressed her lips onto his.

They were as soft and enticing as any lips Simon had ever known before. The tentative kiss soon became quite assertive. Barely five seconds had passed before Simon felt gentle fingers brushing over the bottom of his belly, coursing over his clothing, straight down to his crotch. They ventured boldly between his legs until they were curled right around his ballsack. Then she gave him a provocative squeeze, before she began patiently massaging his organ through his trousers.

Every assumption Simon had about Chaarvi being some chaste recluse went right out the window. This girl knew exactly how to handle a man’s tenders!

He could feel the pulse in his cock pounding firmly, as it began to rouse and grow with the promise of imminent action.

Chaarvi kept him locked in a passionate kiss, teasing him with fleeting insertions of her tongue into his mouth, and scraping her teeth over his lips. There wasn’t the slightest hint of reluctance or hesitation. This girl really wanted him to do her!

Once his initial shock over Chaarvi’s new demeanor had subsided, Simon closed his hands around her waist to gently embrace her. He was surprised how far her dowdy jacket and blouse collapsed before he finally struck firm flesh. The outfit had always suggested she had a somewhat stocky frame, but judging by the distance between his hands, that wasn’t the case at all. He slipped his hands in through the front of her jacket, to fondle her midriff through her blouse. He could feel the lively heat of her body; the yielding softness of her waist and the hard edges of her pelvis. From what he could tell, she seemed to have a pretty nice figure beneath all those layers of ugly clothing.

His underwear was starting to get very crowded.

Chaarvi grabbed hold of the hem of his shirt and gently peeled it off of him, breaking their kiss momentarily. When they made eye contact once more, Chaarvi’s gaze seemed even more resolute.

Simon peeled the heavy gray jacket from her shoulders and immediately got to work on the string of buttons holding her plain white blouse together. She was buttoned right up to the neck, so he had quite a chore ahead of him.

Chaarvi reached back and loosened her neatly tied-back hair, releasing a voluminous, raven-black mane that tumbled down almost to the small of her back. Then her left hand returned to Simon’s crotch, this time sneaking in through the waistband of his trousers to gently tease his excited organ directly. She played with him only long enough to satisfy herself that he was more or less fully erect and ready to service her. Then she withdrew her hands to pop open the lone button securing his pants.

But before she could get to work on his fly, Simon finished unbuttoning her blouse. She gracefully peeled the light garment open and let it fall to the floor. Amid the persistent kisses, Simon stole a peek at the body he had just revealed. The sight sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins.

She had a shockingly fine, athletic body; a smooth, flat belly with a distinct hourglass curve to her waist. Her entire torso was a vision of flawless sandy-beige skin that contrasted beautifully with the bright white of her plain, practical bra.

However, the big surprise was her breasts. They were sizable; more than filling out the cups of her bra. The tautness of the shoulder straps hinted at their superb weight. Simon’s glancing estimation was that they were probably at least ‘D’ cups; perhaps ‘DD’s.

Chaarvi didn’t keep him in suspense for long. No sooner had she dumped her blouse then her hands were twisted behind her back to unhook her bra. It sprung weakly away from her sizable bust the instant she released it. She hastily dipped her shoulders to allow it to plummet down her arms.

This time, a quick peek wouldn’t do. Simon had to wrench himself away from her amorous lips to get a proper look at her.

His previous assessment of her body scarcely did it justice. It was easily the body of a professional swimsuit model. No, scratch that; Chaarvi had the sort of body that professional swimsuit models wished they had!

Her breasts were absolutely perfect; a royal banquet for any guy who loved gorging on tit. In spite of their size, they perched buoyantly upon her chest, flaunting their delicious youth.

Their demure little areolae were only a shade or two darker than the flawless light-brown skin surrounding them. They were almost perfect circles; about an inch and a half wide, but slightly shorter in height. The nipples themselves weren’t distinctly raised; they were one with the surrounding areolae.

“Oh, mama!” Simon mumbled to himself. How on earth had a total babe like this been hiding on campus without anyone noticing?

Chaarvi noticed Simon’s fascination with her breasts and the side of her mouth curled up in a playful smirk. She gently grabbed Simon by the wrists and lifted his hands on to her breasts. Then she pulled them firmly to her chest, crushing the warm, lithe flesh of her tits beneath his tingling palms and forcing her boobs to swell in all directions.

Feeling those soft mounds in his hands, Simon could tell that they were 100% natural. Chaarvi cocked her head and smiled more intently.

Simon scarcely had time to enjoy Chaarvi’s ample bust before she pounced on him once again, resuming her wild flurry of kisses. He felt a careful palm brushing across the tip of the massive tent in his pants. But it was only a fleeting tease. She withdrew her hand to tend to the zip on the side of her skirt. The bulky garment dropped to the ground with an audible “flop!”

Chaarvi heaved her crotch against Simon hungrily, forcing his excited cock into a fully-upright position. There were no mixed signals about her readiness to fuck.

Things were moving so fast, Simon could hardly keep track. It seemed like he’d only just got his hands on Chaarvi’s tits. He hadn’t even had a chance to play with them, and she was already preparing to jump his bones! Not that he minded, though. His cock was hard and aching to taste her hot pussy. If Chaarvi wanted to get on to the bed and have her brains fucked out, right then and there, then that was fine by him!

His excited hands retreated from Chaarvi’s tits and hastily relieved himself of his pants, and then his boxers, in quick succession.

Chaarvi simultaneously peeled off her panties. Simon only glimpsed them out of the corner of his eye. They appeared to match her bra; white, plain and practical.

Somehow, they managed to remove the last of their clothing without breaking their kiss.

Simon grabbed Chaarvi by the hips and pulled her naked body forcefully against his own. His cockhead skimmed the base of her crotch as it nestled into the cozy gap between her thighs, where the tender lips of her sex repeatedly brushed over the top of his shaft. Goddamn, he couldn’t wait to put his dick inside her!

Chaarvi wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hungry embrace. Her kisses had become as passionate as could be. The frames of her glasses grinding against Simon’s eyebrows hurt a little, but he was enjoying himself so much, he wasn’t about to make a fuss.

It was only at this moment that Simon realized that, at some point in their frenzied stripping, Chaarvi had danced him around so that the bed was now behind him. By exerting the firm pressure of her hips against his own, she drove him back the final few feet to the edge of the mattress. Only then did she finally break off her kiss.

The fire in Chaarvi’s eyes had become quite imposing. This was not the same timid little mouse Simon had bumped into on the front stoop of his building. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and would not let anything get in her way!

She laid her hands upon his shoulders and pushed him down, until he was sitting upon the mattress. Simon found himself at eye-level with her privates and was enthralled.

Though he had nothing against a little bit of bush, Simon had always preferred his women ‘shaved.’ Now, in the space of two seconds, Chaarvi had completely converted him to the other side.