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Linda woke up that morning in a sweat. She came to, half buried in bedsheets, slowly conscious of the silence of the big empty house hovering beyond her. She was flat laying on her stomach and somehow her panties had made their way down to her ankle. She realized she’d been dreaming – a very sexy dream – about Bobby Salazar, the brother of her best friend, Lana. She had always had a thing for Bobby, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about him because today she’d be seeing him for the first time in eight years.

Bobby had been living on the east coast, first for college and then several years afterwards, but he was back now. From Lana’s gossiping about Bobby, Linda knew he’d just been through a rough break-up and was back in California living with their parents.

Linda was house sitting for a professor, but had to leave for the weekend, and she needed a substitute. She’d mentioned it to Lana, and as innocently as possible, suggested Bobby might do it for pocket cash. She had to admit to herself that her motives were mixed. In her memories, Bobby was very handsome, or somewhere in between handsome and cute – a Latino James Dean. Long ago she’d written in her pre-teen diary that she wanted to marry him, and later in her teenage diary about how she wanted to lose her virginity to him, all that stupid stuff. She thought she’d dropped some hints over the years, but Bobby never gave her the time of day.

In college, she had dated half a dozen guys here and there. She was too smart for most of them, and the ones that were her equal were too ambitious to make any sort of relationship work at a young age. She had been single for a good year or two now, though she’d dated a lot – no one seemed to click, and Grad School didn’t leave time for much of a social life, though it had helped her develop an appreciation for casual sex. She’d even dated a few girls, but decided she – mostly – preferred men.

It had been a long time, but Linda knew from occasional innocent Facebook stalking that Bobby still had his good looks, his goofy grin, and that he still liked Radiohead – all elements gelling into a perfectly attractive image in her mind.

Linda’s mind strained to recall the details of her dream and what Bobby had been doing to her in it. Her hand found her center as she pressed her naked torso into the mattress, breaking the silence of the large empty house with a pleasured whimper.


Roberto put on the turn signal and swung his parent’s mid-90s Honda Accord into a palatial neighborhood. He was on his way to meet Linda Tanaka. Linda was a long-time friend of his younger sister Lana. Linda and Lana had been friends since junior high, as inseparable as their names were


Now Linda was a graduate student in some kind of health program, and apparently she spent some time house and dog-sitting for professors. According to Lana, Linda was off to a conference for the coming weekend and needed somebody to watch the current house she was sitting while she was gone.

Roberto welcomed the opportunity to make some extra money and, even more so, a chance to get away from his parent’s house for the weekend and forget his pathetic situation – unemployed and heart-broken. So when Lana had asked if he was willing to do it, he jumped at the chance.

As he drove through the neighborhood, big suburban estates passing by, he remembered what he could about Linda. In high school she was always at their house visiting Lana, but still, his memories weren’t all that acute. She was always very quiet and shy and he wondered if that’s why he couldn’t remember much. He remembered thinking she was cute, sort of, but stick-thin and awkward, which led him to ignore her at the time.

He summoned a faint memory of a night she’d attended one of Lana’s few large sleepovers. He had holed up in his room, playing Radiohead in effort to drown out the adolescent giggles elsewhere in the house. Linda had knocked on his door, told him she liked the music and asked if she could sit in his room and listen. They spent a silent half-hour sitting there, the album Kid A on the stereo, before Lana came in proclaiming Radiohead “boring,” and off Linda went to giggle with his sister about boys or watch Dawson’s Creek or whatever teenage girls did. He’d forgotten about that until now.

The Radiohead incident gave Roberto the impression Linda was smarter than some girls, and now that she was a grad student, he figured it was true. But still, he didn’t think much of it – or her – as he pulled into the drive-way of the large suburban home. He noticed it looked like all the others up and down the block: small over-manicured lawns, tall fences. He’d grown up in a more modest part of town, and his folks owned a small rambler. The town had been growing a lot, though, modesty swallowed up by affluent makeshift McMansions like the one he’d be house-sitting. The monotony reminded him of why he had left for the east coast.

Once at the door, he pushed the bell and waited. Escort bayan After a few short moments, the door swung open and Roberto momentarily forgot his ennui. There stood Linda, greeting him with a smile.

“Hi Bobby.”

He smiled. “Long time no see,” he replied. It *had* been a long time. No one had called him Bobby since high school.

“Come in,” she offered, and he stepped into the house. She asked him to remove his shoes, and waited a moment while he undid his nice loafers. For some reason he’d dressed business casual, like it was Friday at the bank. Maybe it was because he was so self-conscious about his unemployment. He didn’t know for sure. It’s not like he had anyone to impress, unless he was really trying to impress the best friend of his kid sister.

After what seemed like a silly amount of time getting his shoes off, he followed Linda down a dark hall out of the entry way, past a stairway, to the back of the house, where large windows illuminated an open concept kitchen. A living room stretched in one direction, and a backdoor led to a patio. It was a big house.

“This is the kitchen, the living room. The backyard is nice,” Linda pointed it all out, feeling dumb for pointing out the obvious. Butterflies were flying in her stomach already. Bobby was looking sharp. In the time it had taken him to remove his shoes, she’d had the chance to take a long lingering look at him – smooth dark brown hair, muscular brown arms rolling out of a dark blue polo shirt, and a pair of khaki pants. He even smelled good, faintly like Old Spice or something.

Lest she give the impression she was anything but calm and composed, Linda jumped straight to describing the responsibilities of the house-sitting.

“The dog needs to go out once in the morning, and once at night. He’s really old.”

“What’s his name?”


“Where is he?”

“Asleep, like usual. All he does is sleep.”

Roberto noticed the pile of fur just beyond the couch in the living room. That must be Brewster, he thought.

He looked back to Linda. Linda continued explaining the ins and outs and dos and don’ts of the house: feed Brewster this medication at noon, fill that water bowl at all times; the mail comes around 3pm on Friday and Saturday. Roberto interjected with a clarifying question or two.

As they talked, his eyes began to register Linda in the natural light of the kitchen. She certainly wasn’t a kid anymore. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any make-up – if she did it wasn’t obvious – yet she had a face that somehow had bold features and remained soft. Perhaps it was her large, sleepy, almond-shaped eyes. She wasn’t an Amazon – in fact, she was short – but she was taller than he remembered. She certainly was scrawny any longer; she was still slender, but by no means stick-thin: age had given her a curve or two, especially in the hips. She was dressed smartly too, a grey cardigan pulled over a yellow blouse, and black skinny jeans. It was a cute outfit, but nothing that screamed for attention.

Roberto felt compelled to learn more about her. He waited for a moment of pause between Linda’s on-going laundry list of house-sitting duties. “What is this conference you’re going to?” Roberto asked.

“It’s on global health and social medicine, which basically are fancy words for how people in different cultures organize health care…” Linda said a word or two about her program, trying hard to keep it in lay person’s terms. She hated how graduate school specialized language, and she hated even more how that language could shade people’s perceptions of her. Or maybe she was just afraid of dis-interesting Bobby.

Roberto was intrigued. He could hear confidence in her voice for the first time since he’d gotten there. Linda obviously cared deeply about her program,the way she talked about it, but she was clearly editing herself. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t get it? He didn’t have much time to think about it before she turned the conversation back on him.

“What are you up to these days?” Linda asked him, though she already knew, in a way – Lana never shut up about Bobby, his nasty break-up with his fiance, and how it had supposedly made him a lazy slob, living at home, mooching off their parents. But Linda wasn’t so sure – Lana had a way of exaggerating and contradicting herself. She had also shared that Bobby spent all his time either at the gym or working on art photography – which didn’t jive with the lazy slob description. Linda wanted the truth from Bobby himself, whatever that was.

“Looking for a job, I suppose.” Roberto wondered if it sounded as pathetic as it felt.

“Lana said you’ve been doing photography?”

“Yeah,” Bobby admitted.

“What do you photograph?

“Mostly cultural scenes. I’ve been driving around taking photos of small-town bodegas, you know the little Mexican mini-marts…” Roberto tailed off; he was a little embarrassed by it. Britt, his ex, had always berated his interest Bayan Escort in the arts, and he had little confidence in his abilities in that area. We’d worked at a bank for most of the years they were together, and he blamed her for his wasted ambition. Then again, she’d run off with a musician. Britt wasn’t a model of consistency.

Linda continued to ask about his photography, and slowly Roberto opened up. He didn’t know if it was their shared past or what, but he felt comfortable around Linda. He wondered if she was attracted to him; it would be nice if she was. After the way Britt had treated him, he could use the ego boost, and Linda’s interest in his photography excited him. He wondered what Lana would think it they dated, and he chuckled inside: she would probably hate it, at least at first. Lana hated everything at first. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea; he turned the conversation back to house-sitting.

“Is there anything else in the house I should see?”

“That’s everything down here, I think,” Linda said. She was moving through the check list of tasks in her mind, trying hard not to seem nervous. Bobby was really interesting to her. His interest in social documentation matched her concern over social medicine, maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to justify her long-standing schoolgirl crush. How could she be sure?

Next up was showing Bobby where the guest room and the bathroom were, upstairs. Linda’s stomach turned silly as she remembered how she’d woken up in the guest room that morning, inadvertently half naked, sexy remnants of her dream warming over her. The autumn sunlight pouring in through the window wasn’t cooling her off any, either, and without a thought she snapped the fronts button on her cardigan, pulled it off and set it down on the counter.

“Let me show you the upstairs.”

“Sounds good,” Roberto replied, following behind Linda as she traveled back down the hall they had first entered in, turning to ascend a large carpeted staircase.

With Linda a step or two in front of him, Roberto couldn’t help his eyes darting over her womanly features. She had removed her sweater innocently enough, but the bare, faintly brown skin of her arms and the slope of her small chest beneath her yellow t-shirt had turned his mind to such things. Slender though she was, her figure swelled somewhat disproportionately at the waist, which Roberto liked – he knew it probably fulfilled some stupid stereotype about Latino men, but ladies with hips and ass really did it for him. Linda’s skinny black jeans captured hers very nicely, showcasing her round thighs and tapering down over her ankles. Based on how her ass shimmied up the stairs, she actually looked a little thick in the rear, and he started to wonder if, despite her last name, she wasn’t entirely Japanese. For all he knew she could be hapa – half- or mixed Asian – and he thought he recalled she had moved to California from Hawaii. But he didn’t pursue the thought – ethnic guessing games were a pet-peeve of his. People always thought he was Mexican, but his parents were Salvadoran.

Watching Linda move up the stairs ahead of him, Roberto bit his lip, trying to stave the burning warmth of need in his abdomen – he couldn’t escape the fact it’d been so long since he’d been with someone. Britt and him hadn’t had sex their last six bitter months together, though it turned out she’d been getting it elsewhere. After so long, his desire was undeniable now. All he had for nearly a year and a half or more – he was afraid to calculate it exactly – was porn and his own sorry mind, and he hated how his need shaded the way he viewed women. A good place to start improving might be removing his eyes from the movement of Linda’s backside.

Towards the top of the stairs, Roberto finally glanced up – to see Linda looking back at him in a mirror hung on the wall. His eyes darted away, and he felt red blush across his face. There was a real good chance she’d just seen him eying her ass.

He didn’t see it, looking away, but Linda was blushing too. Had Bobby been checking her out? She was almost shivering at the thought. She was eager to gloss the situation with generic chatter.

“There are a lot of mirrors in this house for some reason.”

Roberto felt caught. His mind raced to respond; he wasn’t sure if she was mad or flattered or what, but she was giving him the opportunity to move past the moment, and he had to take it.

“Did you ever see that episode of ‘Are you afraid of the dark’ with the house with all the mirrors?”

Linda knew the one. “The one where the mirrors sucked the life out of people? Maybe that’s Brewster’s problem.”

Roberto chuckled at Linda’s joke and his mind eased, but just a little.

They reached the bedroom and Linda continued to be all business, pointing to the attached bathroom, pulling open dresser drawers to show where the towels were, and so forth. The guest bedroom was large, and like most things in the house, outfitted like a Escort grandmother’s house – doilies under everything – and yet another big mirror on the wall.

Linda sat down on the edge of the large bed, and Roberto sat next to her, – careful to sit at a fair, non-suggestive distance. The mattress sank considerably at their combined weight.

“This mattress is old,” Linda opined. “Like everything else in this house.”

“It’s those damn mirrors,” Roberto chuckled, looking at the large oval mirror opposite the bed.

Roberto breathed a momentary sigh of relief – Linda didn’t seem upset of offended. Maybe they had something here. He felt awfully guilty at checking her out on the staircase; Linda was smart, and he wanted to connect with her on that level, if he could. He resolved to ask her out to coffee, now. If she said no, it wasn’t as if his ego could be anymore bruised. Not after the year he’d had.

“Linda, would you want to get coffee with me sometime?”

Linda paused, stunned. It was what she had wanted, more than anything, but it felt so unexpected. Once it registered, she hurried to offer her answer, in case silence suggested she felt any other way.

“I would love to.” Another pause. If there was a time to admit, this was it. “You know, I’ve had a thing for you for a very long time.”

“Is that right?” Roberto said with a uneasy smile, a new nervousness setting in. He was laughing inside with disappointment at himself. There had probably been a million and one signs she liked him over the years, and he had probably missed every single one.

Another pause came, but this one felt measured, like they were wading into this cautiously but with intent.

“It would probably bother Lana,” Linda said at last. It was clear Linda wasn’t saying no – just stating a fact.

Roberto immediately felt anger – anger because Linda was right. Lana would be mad, if just because she had no control over it. Lana was like that. Linda was right in another way, though: she was right to raise the issue – they had to get the issue of his sister out of the way or there wouldn’t be any point to exploring a relationship at all. They had to be on the same page.

“Probably,” he said, looking forward, a bit perturbed. “But we’re adults. It’s up to us, not her.”

“I agree,” was all Linda could say. Her mind was racing to forget Lana. She liked Roberto’s steadfast refusal to allow Lana to define their relationship. She loved Lana as only an old friend could – because she was an old friend, she felt she knew when Lana was overreacting. And if Lana didn’t like her and Roberto exploring a relationship or dating, or whatever, that was Lana’s problem, not theirs.

Pondering the idea of “them,” the emptiness of the big house suddenly seized on Linda. They were together, alone. She felt her insides thrum at the thought. Thinking back to the morning, Linda thought of how she’d brought herself to climax, imagining the sensations of Bobby inside of her, on the very bed they sat on now.

She felt sweat on her brow when she realized it. This was a certainly a chance to make her dream a reality, a dream she’d had since she could remember. But was it the responsible thing? The smart thing? She couldn’t be sure of that. But she was sure of how good he looked right now, sitting sheepishly on the bed, hands folded in his lap, an uneasy grin on his face. It was funny – he looked like he could use some affection. She wanted it from him in return. What was wrong with that? They were adults after all, just as he had said.

She looked to his face. “I want to kiss you so bad.”

Roberto suddenly turned his head to look at her, his eyes big at her words, looking back into hers. He was surprised, but not disappointed – he’d asked her to coffee because he wasn’t ready to admit he wanted a lot more. Here Linda was admitting she wanted more – he admired her frankness. God, he admired all of her. “I’d like that” was all he could say.

Their gazes locked, not accidentally, as they had in the mirror at the top of the staircase, but intently; there was no turning away, no sign of hesitancy this time.

Roberto leaned towards Linda, closing the distance across the edge of the bed, bending his face to hers. Their lips caressed, lightly at first. Without thinking about it Linda opened her mouth beneath his and their tongues met and caressed. The bottom dropped out of her stomach; she felt her knees weaken. Roberto scooted closer, and his hands moved delicately around her waist as the kiss

deepened and waxed and waned.

Finally Roberto broke the kiss and looked back into her eyes. “You’re really pretty.” It was corny as hell but he meant it. He immediately regretted how it sounded so superficial, but Linda didn’t give him a chance to dwell on it.

“You’re really hot,” Linda offered back; she was kidding him, but she meant it too.

Roberto’s mind raced to offer back a joke, but before he could Linda bounded back for another kiss, this one more demanding. Leaning intently into his body, Linda felt a warmth begin to flow through her: a delicious, pulsing warmth in her most sensitive areas. Desire got the best of her – she leaned forward, pushing Roberto down awkwardly onto the bed.

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