"Blank Space", by Taylor Swift. I hate that song because she loves it. Our first meeting happened (on a night) when she came with my friend to our department's processing lab, a food processing lab. Rhea present for some rounds of project experiment.
We had actually seen some days before, but sparse greetings was the only thing that happened between us; the experience wasn't decidedly marked: She bears a complexion that compete with the sun, about one and half metres tall with a medium arse, not bigger than a half-moon.
She's got this not-too-big lips too, a part of her I won't really describe as luscious. A curvy shape, well, not the Nicki kinda.
***
I came to love her arse when we started to converse and I begin to get proper introduction into her mind: I'm a sapiosexual.
Female arse have always been something that attract males, and a kind that allure individuals differ, regarding the size or degree of protrusion. But for me, it is always too soon for mine lust to be overplayed by mine sapiosexuality. And really...
Okay, enough of my perversive babbling.
***
Rhea had come to bake the flour she had milled from unripe plantains. I had come with my group to monitor the starch extraction from pulped yam. She had come with Rhea to the lab, but to study, for a test.
I'm seeing her–with Rhea–for the second time now, so I was already convinced she is an immediate buddy of her.
I went into the lab to substitute the water on the already fermenting yam pulp. Rhea had started to make her dough. She hadn't finished baking when Victoria left for the other lab, the microbiology lab, to resume her study. She had been distracted by noises made by adrenalized males.
The microbiology lab was the place I had situated my laptop too. I soon go there to engage in some computer work. She sat adjacent to me, so it wasn't even difficult for us to nudge the convo window by mere stares.
I knew starings would occur, so I made my mind ready like a soldier on a land mine promised news of rescue.
We waged stares, but I was a better timer. I made sure she didn't catch me staring, but I did almost or better still, caught her, once.
But the inevitability of human shortcoming made our eyes lock and what she did was...
