PREVIOUS: Yoga On The Roof, Part 1
Shelly arrived home after two weeks of constant travel for a series of photo shoots and even a conference speaking engagement. By the last leg of the trip, she begged for her own bed, her own shower, her own soft towels, her own closet full of clothes. Most of all, she wanted to rest on the small worn-down cushion in the center of her couch in front of the television.
This trip had reconfirmed to her that despite high-end hotels, in-room massages, breakfast buffets, and even chic sofas in front of huge 4K TVs, there’s no place like home.
Carrying her shoulder tote bag and rolling her four-wheel suitcase down the long hallway of her apartment building, she noticed a small white envelope on the dull, gray door of her apartment. The square envelope was tucked behind the brass apartment numbers above the peephole.
She plucked the envelope from the door. The envelope was blank.
She dragged her bags inside, setting down her tote and purse on the table. The suitcase toppled onto the floor. She didn’t care.
Inside the envelope was a small card. On the cover was a caricature of two red-faced women pointing at each other and at their cars that were banged up. Meanwhile, the bumpers of the cars were smiling, and the headlights were winking. Inside was printed: “I’m glad I bumped into you.” Below that, in pen, was written a short message:
I would never have expected such a day. Hope to see you soon.
Alessandra had scrawled her name in a sweet, sweeping stroke.
Her message was simple, quick, concise.
Shelly waved the card in front of her face as excitement stirred despite her exhausted body and mind. She needed to see this new, young model again soon. Right now though, it was impossible. Shelly was too tired to text or call her new friend. She didn’t even have the gumption to look over the digital images of Alessandra on her phone.
Shelly washed her face, changed into pajamas, and plopped onto her favorite cushion. She selected a show on Netflix but fell asleep before the opening credits had ended.
Early the next morning, the sun directed its bright rays directly onto Shelly’s face as she was still sprawled on the couch.
Shelly slogged into the kitchen to make coffee. Waiting for the percolation, Shelly stared at the small card from Alessandra and wondered how long it was on her door. It may have been two weeks for all she knew. Alessandra certainly didn’t know that Shelly was travelling, so Alessandra may have wondered why Shelly hadn’t reached out, called back, texted or answered her door for that long. Shelly hoped that Alessandra had not conjured some bad reason for a lack of communication.
She grabbed her phone and typed a text:
I’m back home. Long trip. When can we meet again?
She hoped a reply might come soon. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Even two days later, she had not heard from Alessandra. So, with a missing friend who had a new face that already had intrigued her and her clients, Shelly went on a hunt.
Shelly questioned where Alessandra lived. She may live in the same building—at least she banged through the building’s rooftop exit that fateful afternoon. She may live on another wing and another floor, because Shelly had never seen her before. Shelly paid her for the work online so there was no direct information on her home or mailing address. Shelly had her email address and her phone number. She had a local area code. If Alessandra wasn’t going to answer or reply, that information would be mostly useless.
Shelly knew too that Alessandra’s last name was Delgado. In talking to the superintendent of their building and giving him $10 for some sensitive information, no one was renting an apartment under the name Delgado or Alessandra. Shelly remembered Alessandra was angry—furiously angry—with her boyfriend the day the two women met on the roof. Shelly assumed she was living with her boyfriend. Or husband? She didn’t know his name.
Shelly shrugged off the idea of walking each floor of each wing in the building. Walking would be torture, and, if she knocked on each door, she would be escorted from the building fast. And the likelihood of Alessandra stepping out of her apartment at the exact time Shelly was coming around the bend was minute.
She was in a conundrum. The lovely young lady who had become her fantasy had disappeared, vanished. Their last contact was the little card. Sitting on her couch, she flapped the card in her hand.
“I guess it’s up to her,” Shelly resigned. She went to the computer and swished through the images of the sexy girl who had ruined her afternoon of yoga.
One of Shelly’s clients had loved the images—as much as Shelly did—in just a somewhat professional way. The client wanted more.
“I’m working on setting up a shoot with the model,” she told the client over the phone. “She’s been busy. I mean she has another full-time job. But I’m pushing her.”
Shelly wasn’t sure about the job, but Alessandra didn’t give off the impression of a boyfriend-moocher.
The man on the other end of the phone call said, “I want more of her. You know a model’s time is momentary, but she’s got a long-time look. Get her for me.”
“I understand. A model’s look loses freshness quickly, yes, yes, I know. I’ve been around for almost as long as you. But I have only so much information to find her.”
“Don’t waste time!”
Shelly huffed. “You are really tough to deal with.”
Shelly was ready to hang up on this client.
“Wait, Shelly, listen. Do this. Send this girl one thousand dollars. It’ll encourage her to respond, if only to ask why you sent her money. You know, if it was a mistake. Getting random deposits may make people ask, ‘what’s this for?’ It will poke her into doing something,” the client said.
“If you want. I’m at an impasse.” Shelly shrugged and gave a smirk. “Transfer the money to my account, and I’ll pass it along to her.”
“Expect the money in five. And I want updates on when she does and even when she does not answer you. I want this girl!”
Shelly found the money in her account and immediately passed it to Alessandra’s account with a quick message: Missing you.
It was now a waiting game.
The next day, Shelly went to the roof of the building to find some sunlight and peace. She unrolled her pink mat and balled up into child’s pose. She eased her breathing but didn’t calm down. She shifted into downward-facing dog, with her legs and arms straight. She tried to bring balance to her body and spirit. Yet, her mind was distracted. She hoped that the rooftop entry door would bang open again and Alessandra would appear. Whether furious and screaming like last time or now happy-go-lucky, as long as it was her.
Shelly passed into warrior stance, pointing her right hand toward the bright sun. She shifted into controlled poses for flexibility and balance and strength. The meditation factor was out of her reach because of Alessandra. Without the door opening, eventually, Shelly rolled up her mat and exited the roof through that door. She admitted that reenacting the past doesn’t recreate what has already happened.
She plopped down again on her couch cushion.
“Come on, girl,” Shelly said aloud. “Get back with me.”
TV shows were uninteresting, and that couch cushion wasn’t comfortable anymore. She decided to go on a stroll. She slipped into her jogging shoes and went to the streets with her camera.
Shelly snapped a few pictures, although her mind wasn’t there either. She peeked into a bodega, not for food but in hopes of seeing Alessandra out and about. The young woman wasn’t there. Shelly checked in a hair-and-nail salon. Not there. She looked into a Chinese restaurant, a Pakistani restaurant, and a fast-food joint. Nothing. She gave up. The sun was setting, and the evening air was cooling, despite the city’s permeating heat.
Shelly stopped by an Irish pub for a quick stout. A red-headed waitress immediately grabbed a mug upon her order.
As the froth flowed over the rim of the mug, she said to Shelly, “Something’s on your mind.”
“Looking for a friend that I can’t find.”
“Don’t say it too loud. The Irishmen here, they’ll fight to be the friend and then gobble you up.” She released the large handle to stop the flow of beer. She set the cold mug on a thin coaster advertising Daly’s Bar on 31st Street.
Shelly took a drink and had to lick the froth from her upper lip.
“Who’s this guy-friend?” the waitress asked, drying a tall glass with a white towel.
“She’s a gal-friend, actually. Lovely little Latina. I can’t get her to reply to me, and I can’t find her anywhere,” Shelly said.
“What’s her name?”
“Alessandra Delgado. Haven’t heard of her, have you?”
“No, sorry.”
The waitress cocked her eyebrow. “Some reason why she might not call back? You’re not too mean or grouchy?”
“Quite the opposite.” Shelly sipped her beer again. She leaned back on her stool and slowly turned the mug so the coaster would point to her as a diamond and then a plain square with the next turn.
“I wish I had a wise saying to offer,” the waitress said as she hung the glass in the overhead rack. “Only bartenders have that in them. All I can do is give you the beer for free.”
“I appreciate it.”
Finally at home, Shelly admired the images of Alessandra from her computer. The model was cute, with dark hair and a big personality. She had commandeered the entire traffic intersection that day.
Unexpectedly, the computer dinged. An email message.
The email came from Alessandra. There was an image of her! She was on the beach with a man. They were in mid-jump, sand flinging in mid-air. Her message was:
Loving Puerto Vallarta. The beach is spectacular! Will be back in three days.
Shelly was shocked and, as much, upset. “What the hell’s she doing down there? And she’s back with that man?”
However, Shelly replied:
Enjoy Mexico. But come see me when you’re back home. Missing you.
Deep inside, she was peeved that Alessandra was with someone else. The lovely model must have gone back with the man who had angered her so much a few weeks ago. But Shelly was sure men would take back a woman who was a model. “Probably buying gifts and running away with her on extravagant vacations. All to get her back. I bet he would never have taken her to Mexico if I hadn’t transformed her.”
Shelly left her phone beside the computer, although she wanted to slam it down or even throw it across the room. She calmed her flurry of feelings, knowing that the picture had released locked-up emotions after searches and fears and complete confusion. Shelly just wanted to be the one with her, not the boyfriend.
She cast off her jealousy. She texted her client:
Found our model in Mexico. Should be back in town in a few days. Expecting to meet up again.
The reply was:
Get her ASAP!
Over the next days, Alessandra sent more pictures. She was in a lovely bikini top that cupped her breasts nicely. In another, she was in short shorts and a shirt with two quartered limes. It read “Squeeze Me.”
Shelly giggled at the shirt, knowing what she would do.
The final picture was Alessandra in a knee-length bohemian halter dress. Shelly admired Alessandra’s browned knobby shoulders and lengthy, thin arms. Lingering on each of these images, Shelly could hardly wait for this girl to return.
In an agonizingly days-long wait, Shelly got a message on her phone. It was Alessandra!
Finally home! Want to talk. What time is good for you?
She texted back
Now is perfect. Come over soon.
An hour later, the lovely Alessandra was sitting with Shelly on the couch, gushing over all she had done and seen in Puerto Vallarta.
“The city was amazing. Now I know why that picture in your studio dug into my soul so much.”
Shelly’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “A picture of mine? Which one?”
“You don’t remember? The picture on the beach with Luna. I loved that picture, and it has never left my mind.”
“That impactful, huh.” Shelly smiled and rested her head on her hand.
“Yes! When my boyfriend said we needed to reconnect after our fight the day me and you met, I said we have to go to Puerto Vallarta! I had no second thoughts.”
Shelly leaned back on her couch. Emotions—bad and good—swirled inside of her. She, in fact, had gone back with her boyfriend.
“I can’t believe my art impacted you so much. Hearing it warms my heart.” Shelly put her hand on her chest and gazed into Alessandra’s marble eyes. They hugged as friends.
After unleashing all her thoughts, excitement and joys in her getaway, Alessandra calmed and breathed normally. Then Shelly brought up modeling.
“The pictures of your photo shoot have wowed several of my clients.” She paused to let the words sink into the little Latina’s mind.
This time, Alessandra’s forehead scrunched. “Really? Does that have anything to do with the money you sent me?”
“A client had me pay you extra because the client wants more of you.”
Alessandra narrowed her eyes. “Were the pictures from modeling the wristwatch or the ones in the intersection?”
“The intersection.”
Alessandra nodded. “That was an amazing experience.”
Shelly looked softly at the woman sitting with her and lightly dragged her forefinger along the rib of a couch cushion. “Would you want to do it again? My client is begging.”
“Begging?” Alessandra nearly laughed at the notion.
“Begging, Alessandra. I mean begging, begging.”
“What would you have me do? We’ve been in the streets already. I just …” Her voice trailed off.
“Have you had sentiments after our last shoot? Did your boyfriend—what’s his name?—have any thoughts?”
“His name is Gerardo,” Alessandra said, then added, “He was only okay with them—mostly okay. Well, somewhat okay. He loved that I was so beautiful and the center of attention but then didn’t like that others saw me as they did. I was so surprised that the shoot brought me and him closer together. He has been so good to me lately.”
Feelings swelled in Shelly. Gerardo still had this girl.
“If he wasn’t a factor, would you do another shoot?”
Alessandra’s face dipped toward the carpet for a moment. She then looked up at Shelly. “Yes, certainly. My heart flutters even now.”
“What should we do then since Gerardo is here?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can play around if you want—” Shelly giggled as she misspoke her true thoughts. “—and see what results in terms of images. Maybe we can get some pictures that Gerardo will like. Thoughts?”
“Yes, let’s play around. What should we do?”
Get you naked and let me put my mouth all over you, Shelly wanted to say but capped her words.
“I found a narrow alleyway with these small steps that have intrigued me lately. Would you want to put on a tiny dress and walk to that alley? It would be like an escape from the world while luring it along.”
“I think I can find a dress.” Alessandra waved her hand in the air. “My closet is so full. Things get lost in there.”
“Maybe the closet is not too full. It’s just that the closet is too small.”
Alessandra giggled. “Everything’s perspective.”
“And so it is with photography and getting boyfriends to agree with all your modeling.”
Shelly grinned. Alessandra tried to smile.
Shelly pushed the conversation away from her previous comment.
“Is there a timeframe that may work in your schedule? I don’t know your work hours or workdays.” Shelly reached for her phone to check her calendar.
“Why not do it now? I can get a dress quick. I just don’t want to go home so soon.”
“You’ve been here for a while,” Shelly said, but quickly added, “And in no way am I complaining. I have loved it. I’ve waited for you to get back.”
“Gerardo has his boys over right now. They’re watching basketball. He and his boys take over our place and are so loud and leave it a complete wreck. I hate it, and I have to get angry at him so he’ll clean up the mess. And still I do most of the cleaning, like I’m some maid.”
“Men, huh.” She flipped her wrist. “If ever you get mad and want to stay here, my place is always open. Let Gerardo wallow in a place with chips on the floor and empty beer cans and pizza boxes everywhere. It may teach him a lesson.”
“He’s not one for learning.”
“You’ve learned that already. Disappointing.”
“What about you? You haven’t said much about what’s been happening lately. I’m sorry that I’ve controlled the conversation.”
“I enjoy listening. Listening and looking at a beautiful woman at the same time is a gift from above. But enough talk. Let’s try a photo shoot.”
“This is so exciting!” Alessandra stood quickly but then covered her mouth. “Oh! But it’ll be a while before I get back. Those guys will want me to help them.”
“That’ll be a problem.” Shelly stood too. “And I don’t have any dresses or outfits that fit you. Look at my body. It’s not model quality. It’s twice your size.” She huffed.
“Shelly, don’t talk like that. You have a gorgeous body,” Alessandra said in a tough voice. She stepped to Shelly and ran her fingers over Shelly’s shoulders and down her arms to her fingers. “Your curves are so attractive. I wish I had curves. All I have are straight lines.”
She pressed the palms of her hands against her own waist and slid them down.
Shelly shivered and tingled at Alessandra’s actual touch. It had been so intimate.
“I guess we could say I’m cursive and you’re print,” Shelly said.
“Both can make bold statements, right?”
Shelly swatted at Alessandra, grinning.
“Back to the shoot, what can we do for an outfit?” Alessandra asked.
Shelly took Alessandra’s hand. “Follow me to my closet.”
“This will be fun.”
Shelly shoved through her closet. The hangers clacked as they moved down the bar. Some metal hangers eeked as if angry about being moved.
Alessandra stepped into the closet next to Shelly to see more of the clothing options. Shelly basked in the closeness when Alessandra would reach over her, bump into her, and admire her few sparkling gowns.
She lifted one emerald gown and set it against her body.
“Seems to engulf you,” Shelly said.
“If I had a great chest like you have …” Alessandra didn’t finish. She hung up the gown and pulled off a gray sweatshirt. On it was an outline of the upper peninsula of Michigan. Scribbled over the UP was “Wet and Wild!”
“I want to wear this! This is it. I can have that street-look.”
Before Shelly objected, Alessandra stepped from the cramped closet. She lifted off her V-neck. Shelly noticed her small breasts captured in the tiny—almost unnecessary—bra.
Alessandra pulled the sweatshirt over her head. It was lumpy, and only the tips of her fingers could be seen at the end of the sleeves. It fell well down her thighs.
“What if I took my pants off and made this into a, you know, a sort of a dress?”
“Take them off. Let’s see.”
She lifted the sweatshirt and tried to unbutton her pants. She was struggling with all the extra fabric.
Shelly stepped close. “Let me help.” She grabbed the sweatshirt and raised it as high as Alessandra’s bra. She wanted a glimpse again of the intimate wear. Her hands lowered as her mind pushed her to touch, even incidentally, the small breasts.
The pants fell to the floor with a thwap of the belt.
Shelly admired her friend’s plain, white panties.
“Uh, Shelly, I’m okay. You can let go of the shirt,” Alessandra said lightly.
“Oh, sorry. I was wondering if you had any tan lines. Being in Mexico and all.” Suddenly, Shelly hoped the comment wasn’t too much.
“Lookie here,” Alessandra said innocently, raising the sweatshirt again. She pulled her panties away from her hips. “I got a tiny line. I didn’t sunbathe nude.”
“Ever wanted to?”
“Sure.”
“Me too. But where, right?”
“Exactly.”
Alessandra let the sweatshirt drop to where “Wet and Wild” was readable again. She removed the pants from around her ankles. She wore a pair of white Adidas Samba sneakers with three blue stripes.
“Looks like a perfect streetwear outfit for a sexy woman. You’re about to lure the eyes of everyone on the street. Then you’ll escape into the narrow alleyway for more intimate pictures. Make sense?”
“You make it all sound so easy and obvious.” Alessandra smoothed out her hair, so it hung long down her back. “I want the attention.”
“Exciting.” Shelly clapped her hands lightly. “Let me get my camera.”
The two women escaped from the apartment building and headed into the street.
Shelly pointed out the alleyway where Alessandra should escape.
“And, by the way, don’t mind me if I fall behind,” Shelly warned. “If I do, you just continue on.”
Alessandra threw her hair over her shoulder and raised her chin toward the sun.
She took long, cool strides over the bubble gum-pocked, stained sidewalks. Her hips swished as she crossed an intersection. Moments after she had started walking, the sweatshirt dress showed her legs so perfectly. And more of these narrow thighs appeared. The sweatshirt almost rose to the bottom of her ass. Shelly salivated at possibly seeing the tiny, white panties.
Alessandra stopped at Daly’s Irish Pub. She leaned on the wall of the building and put her foot up, giving a carefree attitude. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was the model who could sell.
Already, faces turned toward the woman. With the looks came smiles and a few calls. Irishmen at the bar called to her, “Wh’are you runnin’ to? Come ova’ here!”
The Latino guys hooted too. “Yo, mamí. Where you goin’ so fast?”
Another man called out, “Seein’ you made my day, shortie!”
A tall man in a business suit simply said, “You’re lovely.” He grinned so broadly. Shelly nabbed a picture of the man’s attention as Alessandra passed by.
Alessandra pushed on, no acknowledgement of those comments and calls except a wry smirk. Finally, she came to the alley. She ducked out of view but peeked around the corner. She offered a taunting leer. Then she slid up the hem of the sweatshirt. Shelly stopped and covered her mouth when the bright white cotton contrasted against the heavy gray fabric.
“You just showed your panties,” Shelly whispered in excitement. “You little devil.”
She raced down the sidewalk and turned the corner. Alessandra had run up several steps.
“There you are!” Alessandra said, hands on her hips. She rocked them side to side. “Coming to get me?” she teased like a flirty teen girl.
“I want you! Nothing can stop me.” Shelly climbed the steps with her camera and her eye in the camera’s viewfinder.
“What do you want from me, Shelly?”
The question knocked the breath out of Shelly’s chest. She avoided the question, as her mind was foiled. She only snapped pictures.
Alessandra stretched the sweatshirt down to her knees, elongating the words “Wet and Wild.”
Then she raised the shirt, so the lap of her panties appeared—white and innocent.
Shelly choked. But she kept shooting and directing. “You are amazing. Keep giving it to me! Show me! I want more.”
Alessandra’s hands smeared over her petite body. She turned around and poked out her butt. She raised the shirt. The sunlight caught the two humps of flesh, highlighting her cute, round ass.
“I love it!” Shelly called to her model. She moved closer and closer, getting pictures from all angles.
“What else do you want from me, Shelly?”
“I want your panties. Throw them to me.”
Alessandra’s back stiffened. “My underwear?”
Shelly paused but came up with an answer. “These pictures will be for Gerardo. Sexy, naked pictures. Turn around and slide down your panties. Be sexy now—for him.”
Alessandra turned as directed. Her arms moved and the sweatshirt’s sleeves suddenly hung limply. In a moment, Shelly gasped when a tiny bra fell from the bottom of the sweatshirt to Alessandra’s feet. Then Alessandra leaned forward. The panties were halfway down her ass, caught in between her ass cheeks.
“Luscious, luscious!” Shelly was astounded. “You are amazing. I wish I could …”
Alessandra dragged the cotton panties from her butt and let them slide down her thighs, over her knees and to her ankles.
Shelly gasped again. “I’m going to love these shots. Bend over and touch your shoes.”
“Do what?”
“Touch your toes or tie your shoes. I want to see your pussy.”
“Shelly?” Alessandra looked confused, frowning.
“Give it to me … to Gerardo.”
Alessandra did as directed, although at first cautiously. She moved her hands down her legs. Her sweet pinkness appeared from under the sweatshirt.
“You like this, Shelly?” she said. “This what you want?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
“Gerardo will love these,” Alessandra said.
The comment zapped Shelly from her sexual arrest and her jittery fingers pressing the shutter button.
Shelly forced out the statement: “Yes, he will.”
The next statement choked Shelly and stopped her hitting the shutter button.
“Will you like them too, Shelly?” Alessandra asked. “Will you?”
“You don’t know how much my clients will go for these.” She began her clicking again.
“No, not them. I mean you. Will you like them?”
Shelly stood upright. She smiled awkwardly and didn’t say anything. Alessandra woke her from this stupor.
“I need to get back. Gerardo’s boys’ll be gone.” She quickly knelt to grab her bra.
They headed back to Shelly’s apartment, but they weren’t so friendly. There was a partition between them. Alessandra changed clothes in the bedroom while Shelly waited on the couch. She didn’t yet scan through the hundred newly shot pictures on her camera.
When Alessandra came out fully clothed, Shelly stood. “I will send these to my client and get back with you about what’s next. Expect more work. That is, if you want it.”
“Let me know. I have to get going.”
Alessandra closed the door behind her, leaving Shelly for Gerardo.
A few hours later, a text came from Alessandra.
Had a great time. Let’s do it again soon. Hope you enjoy the pics.
Late that night, Shelly went to bed. She flung back the blanket.
“What in …”
She found the white cotton panties underneath the blankets, left behind.
“I can’t believe you, Alessandra.”
NEXT: Yoga On The Roof, Part 3
