Seema's Journey Ch. 01

Seema closed the door behind her and leant back against the cool, well-aged wood. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes as she rested her head against the door, the city sounds now a distant and soft thrum.

"That was a long hard day." she said to the cream coloured walls of her ground floor flat.

She dropped her bag on the floor, placed her laptop case on the table next to the telephone and shuffled over to her plush leather sofa. She flopped down, kicked her shoes off and shrugged out of her suit jacket, letting out a long and contented sigh. The new rug she had bought on a whim last weekend felt sublime under her bare feet as she curled her toes up in the deep pile. She closed her eyes, knowing that it was a mistake. Her breathing slowed and her body began to relax into the soft cushions of her sofa.

"Ooo, no. Come on, wake up girl." She sat up quickly and reached for the TV remote from the smoked glass coffee table; another knee-jerk purchase. She idly flicked the TV on and selected her favourite channel. "I can watch what I like now!" she reminded herself.

Having the flat to herself had some distinct advantages. She could watch whatever TV she fancied. She could spend as long as she liked in the shower, or even better, in the bath. She could cook the meals she liked, when she liked, clearing the dishes next morning, if she wanted. She could spend the day in her pyjamas, or wrapped up in the bathrobe Simran had bought her, if she liked. She could walk around the flat completely naked if she wanted to. Yes, distinct advantages. The main advantage was not having to pander to her ex-boyfriend. The womanising bastard, she thought.

The disadvantage was the odd period of loneliness.

Even though six months had passed since she had found out about his clandestine meetings with a blonde he knew from work, it still hurt Seema. She considered herself lucky though. In Simran, she had a very good and very caring friend. She remembered in vivid detail the tearful phone call she had made to Simran after she had found out about her boyfriend's escapades with his 'bit on the side'.

Simran had taken Seema under her wing, and had been there for her ever since. Like a big sister, though she was in fact a few years younger than Seema's 25 years.

Seema looked across at the shoe rack near the front door. There, just to the side, were Simran's fluffy white slippers. She spent so much time there that Seema had bought her a special pair of slippers that she could leave there permanently. Seema smiled and sighed. She wasn't lonely often.

Ironically, Simran's relationship with her boyfriend had disintegrated just a month after Seema's, under circumstances much worse. And then, Seema had been there for Simran.

Seema looked at her big blue led clock on the wall next to the door to her kitchen.

"Damn! Better get ready."

She lifted herself off the sofa, clicked the TV off and slipped out of her shirt as she padded barefoot over the polished wooden floor to her bedroom. Once in her bedroom, she slipped her skirt off and pulled her hair-ties out, shaking her dark shoulder-length hair and rough-combing it with her slender fingers.

She turned to look in the mirror and regarded herself slowly, looking at her legs, her tummy and her breasts, cupped in a black lacy bra. As she reached around to unclip her bra she twisted around, giving herself a better view of her bottom in the mirror.

"Not bad," she nodded, giving herself a positive appraisal. "It's all looking a bit flatter. Good!"

She unhooked her bra and slipped the thin straps off her shoulders. She looked at her bare breasts in the mirror and pursed her lips. "Hmmm. They're still a bit big. Exercise isn't going to get them any smaller." She chuckled.

She had made a pact with Simran. They would join a gym and get themselves looking as good as possible, ready for the men they would find themselves. Though, she suspected that Simran was being her usual kind and supportive self, for Simran already had a fantastic figure.

"Not fair!" chuckled Seema. She looked herself over in the mirror once more, and realised that she was in fact looking pretty good herself. Seema had never been over-weight, but in the fall-out of her failed relationship her self-image had suffered, in part due to the fast food and alcoholic beverages consumed for comfort. She shook her head and smiled bitterly.

She fetched her gym gear, swimming costume and towel from the bottom drawer of her rustic pine wardrobe, quickly donning the sports bra, tight top, and tight, black calf-length leggings. As she pulled her white sports socks on and slipped her feet into her new trainers, something caught her eye. Resting against the side of the drawer, half buried beneath socks, stockings and knickers, was a picture. She knelt down, picked it up and looked at it, knowing full-well what it was. It was the photo of her ex, a photo that she wanted to scrunch up every time she looked at it, or better still, burn it. But, she could never quite bring herself to do it.

She thought of Simran, kind and lovely Simran. As usual, she felt a surge of warmth flowing through her body, a calming tonic that always soothed her. She looked again at her ex-boyfriend in the picture, taken on their first holiday together. He was all smiles, posing for the camera. In the background of the picture, Seema could just make out the apartment they had stayed in, framed by perfectly clear blue sky.

"Bastard!"

Seema was well past the crying stage now, but she felt her confused emotions welling up. She threw the photo back in the drawer and stood upright.

She glanced at her clock radio on the bedside table. Simran would be picking her up any moment. She bathed in the warmth pulsing over her body on thinking of her friend, and walked through to the kitchen to take a long drink of water. All day, Seema had been looking forward to spending time with Simran; a few games of squash, a swim and back to the flat for a naughty, fat-laden take-out and some girlie TV. And hopefully some gossip, thrown in for good measure. Work really had dragged for Seema. She wondered if Simran looked forward as much to their girlie evenings.

As Simran would probably stop the night on account of a few too many glasses of wine, Seema had prepared the futon in the spare room. This had become routine for a Friday, which Seema didn't mind at all. "She may as well move in!" Seema chuckled as she crouched to tie her laces.

It had in fact crossed her mind for the two of them to share the flat. For a while, maybe. They got on well, never argued, shared many interests and had a similar taste in music and film; like a couple. Seema sighed and flicked a frustrated glance up to the ceiling, shaking her head at the ease with which that thought entered her mind.

It would halve the rent, she continued to reason; not that she needed to worry about rent as her job paid well. Seema often wondered what stopped her from proposing a flat-share. She was getting closer to being able to answer that question. 'Why do you want her to move in?' she kept asking herself.

"Stop it!" Seema said aloud, shaking her head again and rubbing her forehead.

There was a knock on the door. Seema ceased her reverie and exhaled quickly, clearing her thoughts.

"That'll be Sim!" Seema jumped up, grabbed her keys and sports bag, and skipped to the door. The city air wafted in to Seema's flat as she opened the door. It was indeed Simran. Seema felt a glow inside.

"Hi!" Simran beamed. A warm and wide smile lit Simran's face, her naturally wavy hair perfectly framing her sharp, pretty features; eyes that twinkled, high cheek bones, a delicate nose over a mouth with delicate lips. Simran held her arms out for a hug. Seema felt like she would melt.

"Hi!" They hugged tight. Seema was always unsure how long a 'friendly' hug should last. Recently, she had been more conscious about it and tended to err on the cautious side. She often wondered why she just couldn't be like Simran, and not worry about it. This time, Seema closed her eyes and let the hug linger as long as possible. She could feel Simran's heartbeat against her chest and could make out a light waft of the perfume she had bought Simran a while back. They eventually broke apart, though Seema could have stayed like that for the rest of the day.

"Ready for a few sweaty games of squash, Seem?" Simran asked cheerfully as Seema locked her door, stowing her keys in a pocket of her sports bag. Simran put her arm through Seema's and pulled her close as they walked arm in arm to Simran's car.

"Yeah, I 'spose! But, can you please let me win at least one game tonight?"

"Well, how about you don't swim so fast tonight! I can never keep up with you!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The journey to the gym was, as always, full of chat, fits of giggles and juicy gossip. Seema loved the fact that there was never a dull moment with Simran. She was also very happy with the fact that whenever they were together, it was always just about the two of them. They both had a wide circle of friends, but whenever they spent time with each other, it was always just the two of them. There for each other. Seema became serious.

"So, how you feeling today?" Seema asked, glancing across at Simran, studying her profile. Seema always marvelled at Simran's natural beauty.

"Ok, I guess. Yeah, doing ok. You put your life and soul in to a relationship, and then get it chucked straight back in your face. You know as well as me it takes time to get over things like that." She glanced at Seema, pressing her lips together and raising her eyebrows.

Seema nodded her agreement, frowning at the memory of her heartbreak. She clapped her hands on her knees. "But, we're both getting over things. We're back on track!"

"Damn right, girl!" Simran laughed, slapping the steering wheel. "Couldn't have done it without you, Seem." She reached across and patted Seema's arm.

"You did the same for me." Seema gazed at Simran, wanting to return the light touch of the arm. She held back though, forcing herself to look away from Simran's perfect profile.

They drove on in silence. Simran took the usual turning off the main road for her shortcut through a large housing estate, and soon they were parked up outside the leisure centre. Simran killed the engine, and sat back in her seat. A conspiratorial look flashed across her face.

"You know what? All our workouts and stuff, we're going to look two fine ladies!"

"Yep!" Seema chuckled, turning in her seat to face Simran.

"I reckon, for a treat, and a laugh, sometime soon, we go out and get ourselves a man each!"

"Oooo, naughty girl!" Seema giggled, though within, she felt something akin to jealousy, as she tended to more recently, whenever Simran mentioned men.

"Well, why not? It's been ages since I had good sex!" She giggled, hunching her shoulders. "We deserve it after what we've been through!"

"I guess you're right." Seema paused and looked at Simran, narrowing her eyes. "Mind you, you didn't need to go to the gym! You looked great before. You could go out tonight and have any man you wanted. I wish my bum was as shapely as yours!"

"Hey! You're not so bad yourself, honey!" Her faux American accent made Seema laugh. "Anyway, I'm looking forward to having a take-out and several glasses of wine with my soul-sister tonight." Simran took hold of Seema's hand and squeezed it gently. "Come on, let's go play squash!"

Simran slid out of the car, lithe and graceful. Seema lingered for a few seconds. She couldn't quantify how grateful she was for her friend's help during her time of need. She often worried whether she had provided Simran with enough support when it was her turn to get dumped. Simran had been like an older sister and mother, rolled in to one. Seema had realised a while back that she would have been happy with a lot more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They were told that there would be a twenty minute wait for a squash court. Neither of the girls minded, so they decided to sit and wait outside the courts. The thick perspex back-walls of the courts gave them a good view of the games that were in progress.

"He's kind of cute!" Simran leaned into Seema and pointed out a rather nice looking man in loose shorts and top. "Nice butt! Bet he's got money too, hmm!"

"Shhh!" Seema whispered, sniggering under her breath. She was determined not to give her silly jealousy away. "You've got a point though!"

Simran always made Seema laugh, always happy and bouncy, always smiling. She was the perfect tonic for anything, as far as Seema was concerned. They sat together on the middle bench of a small tiered seating area that served as a viewing gallery for the long row of squash courts. They sat close, shoulders touching, which was quite usual. Simran never seemed bothered about personal space. Seema, though, had started to let it bother her. 'Was it a signal, or not?' she wondered.

"I'm just going to get a bottle of water. Back in a mo. Get on a court if one frees up." Simran jumped over the lower bench and went in search of a vending machine.

As Seema watched her walk away, she marvelled at Simran's figure, wishing that she could achieve something close to a physique like that. Simran, like Seema, was a short girl, around 5'5" and perfectly proportioned. She was pert in all the right places. Breasts that sat perfectly on her chest, whether cupped in a bra or not, a bottom that had a perfect pear shape, sloping out from the small of her back by just the right amount. A perfect bottom that sat on a perfect pair of legs, with toned thighs and calves that had just the right curviness. Even her feet were cute. When she stood upright she looked like a ballet dancer, with just a bit more well-toned flesh on her.

"Stop it!" Seema cursed under her breath, staring at her feet. "You sound like a..." She didn't dare say the word. She chuckled to herself, but she knew full well how she had been feeling about Simran, especially recently. They had spent so much time together. She had depended so much on Simran during her time of need, and when Simran needed comfort, Seema had obliged with true affection. With love. She realised there was no denying it.

Her feelings for Simran had developed over the long periods of time they had spent together, providing support for one another. She couldn't lay the blame on a fragile emotional state. Not now, not after six months. It must be love. Madness? As she came to her conclusion, she felt suddenly helpless, caught in a situation with no happy ending. How could she think that Simran would ever feel the same? Her eyes started to sting and she took a deep and unsteady breath.

She looked up to see Simran returning, bottle of water in hand. She waved and Simran smiled back, face lighting up. Seema once again felt like she would melt.

"No courts free yet?" Simran asked as she sat down and shuffled over to sit close to Seema. She peered into Seema's eyes, resting a hand on her thigh. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just a bit tired, I guess."

"Yeah, know what you mean. Work a bitch?"

Seema nodded. "It was today. The day seemed to go on and on."

"Yep. Same here." Simran looked Seema in the eye, and then at the court in front of them.

"Tell you what, our cutey you spotted earlier is getting all sweaty!" Seema wondered why she punished herself.

"Ooooo!" Simran giggled, hunching her shoulders up. "Shall I offer to help him in the shower?"

Simran laughed out loud, drawing some glances from the players on court. Seema followed suit, laughing heartily, trying to make herself appear as 'normal' as possible.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Eventually, they got on court, and started at a steady pace, which suited Seema perfectly. Simran was a far better player though, and when the pace picked up, the points built up against Seema. She did notice that she was improving though, and although Simran was winning fairly comfortably, Seema was at least legitimately winning a few points.

The hardest ball to return was the ball floated to the back of the court. Despite trying her hardest, Seema could not get the swing right at all, more often than not hitting the back wall rather than the ball.

"Aaaahhh! Damn it!" Seema cursed. "I can't get those shots!"

"Back wall shots?"

"Yeah. Can't get a proper swing at the ball. How do you do those shots?"

"Ok. I'll show you, yeah?" Simran walked to the back of the court. She put her arm around Seema's shoulder. "The rest of your game is getting loads better, I can tell you!"

Seema smiled bashfully. Simran was always full of encouragement.

Simran went through the basics of the shot, explaining in detail the precise swing of the racquet, the positioning of the feet, and the point at which one should move the shoulders and flick the wrist.

Seema nodded, looking as earnest as she could, though she secretly conceded that she didn't get any of it. Besides which, she found herself, as usual, marvelling at how shapely Simran was. In a tight white vest top, her breasts were almost too shapely. Her skin-tight dark blue leggings showed off her bottom perfectly, clinging tight to every perfect curve, so tight that it appeared as though she had merely sprayed her lower half with blue paint.

'Oh, to have a firm bottom like that.' Seema thought. 'Mind you, mine looked ok in the mirror...'

"So," Simran continued. "It's mostly in the wrist really, but there's a swing to the shoulders and hips. Tell you what, if you move to the side of me, I'll hit some balls from the back here, and you watch my body position."

"Cool." She marvelled at Simran's patience.

Simran hit a long hard ball which rebounded high off the front wall and floated back. It touched the back wall and fell almost straight down. As soon as it bounced on the floor, Simran whipped her racquet in a sharp arc and hit the ball with a huge amount of force, sending it shooting like a bullet to the front wall. It hit high, floated back, touched the back wall, fell to the floor, and again after it bounced, Simran played a perfect back wall shot. To Seema, it all looked effortless, and so graceful. It crossed Seema's mind that Simran, too, looked incredibly graceful.

The ball came back again, floating serenely through the air towards the back wall. Just before it hit the floor, Simran swept her racquet under the ball and caught it in one fluid motion.

"See? All relaxed. Let the racquet do the work! You try it honey."

Seema made a face. "Mm, ok. I'll give it a go!"

Simran sent her a high ball bouncing off the back wall and down to the floor. Seema tried her best to copy Simran and whipped her racquet. She hit the ball hard with a satisfying ping from the centre of the racquet, firing it off to the front wall.

"Yay! I did it, I did it!" Seema shouted, nearly pumping the air with her fist.

"Yes, yes yes! That was fantastic!" Simran called, genuinely pleased. "Now, let me show you again. You can make it easier for yourself if you bend your knees a little. And go a bit harder on the swing. Watch."

Simran sent a ball hard and high to the front wall. It pinged off and sailed through the air to the back of the court. It touched the back wall, and dropped slowly to the floor. Just before it bounced, Simran wound herself up for a big return shot, twisting her torso so that her shoulders were almost at ninety degrees to her hips. She quickly bent her knees just a few inches before twisting her hips, bringing her shoulders back around at an incredible speed.

As soon as the ball shot off her racquet, Simran yowled in pain, dropped her racquet and fell hard to the floor with a sickening thud as her knees struck. She lurched forward on to her hands and slowly rocked back and forth.