Parallel Lines

The room was full of people. Men and women of all ages had come looking for someone. Someone they didn’t know. Someone they did not want to know. There are far fewer women and far more men. Men clamouring for a fleeting glimpse and a quick one. Women playing it hard to get.
After all earth girls aren’t so easy.
Women knew, men want sex, a surreal sex, an ethereal fleeting moment, a moment to let their testosterones out. Women weren’t exactly sure of what they want, at least not all of them wanted sex.

It was here that they met.
Their eyes met in a room full of people. They jostled to reach out to each other. She had charming smile with an aquiline nose, eyes like that of a deer, her long neck with prominent collar bones presided over her chiselled body. He was dreamy eyed, lost and poetic. Initially all he wanted was a moment of testosterone leak but gradually it all changed.
They liked each other. At least he thought so. Soon they met; ethereal, surreal and real. There wasn’t a day when they did not. She grew on him and he on her. They were too mature to be inseparable and too young to be separated. She was in a shell and he abound in abandon. He professed love and she appreciated but never reciprocated.
She was a mother and a wife, he a husband and father.
They had begun to enjoy each other’s company, in-fact yearned for it though she stayed reticent and he overt.
The love was there waiting outside a shell, an impregnable shell. Inside the shell was a throbbing waiting to be let out. A caged bird seldom gets to fly.
She was scared of pain and he loved the pleasure of pain. She had a past and he wanted a future. They were two parallel lines.