by Bitsi Shar
“Be right there, hon’” I called out.
“Hurry up, hon’, its freaking dark out here and cold too,” he replied. I hobbled to the door and slid open the latch. I confirmed it was him before I opened the screen door to let him in.
He wasn’t alone. In came his other friend who was popularly referred to as Rocky. I had never met Rocky before though had heard a lot about his “failed” business ventures in Detroit. Now he was standing in my darkened living room where I couldn’t meet him properly. I still said “hi” while extending my hand to shake his. But Mr. boyfriend stepped in, took my hand instead to pull me to him.
He used the dark to give me a hard, quick kiss before asking, “You ready?”
I mumbled a “yes” even as I heard an almost silent chuckle from Rocky.
Ok, whatever. It was just a kiss. We weren’t exactly tearing each other’s clothes in a public display of passion gone rampant. I had pulled together my purse before the lights went out so just grabbed it off the dining table before following the guys out. I locked the door. He was waiting to give me a hand down the two stairs (yes, sweet!) and then he tucked me by his side as we walked twenty paces to his friend’s Maruti sedan. Rocky held the door open as he tucked me in the back seat.
“Are you cold?” as I folded in to the leather seat.
“A little,” I said honestly. He then reached across my legs to a plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed in the dark. He pulled out what looked a thin shawl. Before I knew it, the shawl was draped over my legs, he had kissed both my knees through the layers, and was withdrawing with a smile on him face, his white teeth acting like florescent light in the dark! I was just mesmerized even as I felt many other things pop inside me in brilliant colors. We were off and just as we turned the corner of the lane, the lights came back on in a loud “pfft.” As we passed the streetlight, Rocky turned in his seat to smilingly re-introduce himself. I smiled back at him. He was good looking man, even though his kind of Punjabi look didn’t quite do it for me. I was smitten by another—whose Punjabi looks actually did it for me in some inexplicable way.
I was quite warm in the back. This made me drowsy therefore not so inclined to speak. Both men realized that because every time they asked me something or Rocky turned to share something, my best response was “hmmm.” So they let me be while they got caught up on each other. I let the cool night air kiss my cheeks as the sodium streetlights reflected off my face. I was happy. I must have dozed a little for I felt jerked awake as the car jerked to a halt.
“We are here?” I squeaked. I only saw a massive iron gate in front of me in what seemed like wilderness.
“Yep, hon. Wakey, wakey!” Oh, so irritatingly cute.
“Should I get out or are we driving in if and when someone opens the gates to heaven?” Rocky let his irritation be known.
“Sit tight. I’ll go check if we are in fact at the right address. I sincerely hope Wady got this right. Or he is toast, I swear to god.” He walked way with that thrown into the empty, quiet space of the car.
I saw him knock tentatively at the door first and then with some force. After a minute or so, the gate slowly creaked open as a guard’s face peered out. I saw them exchange a few words before the face disappeared behind the gate that slowly creaked back shut! What?! Did we actually come to the wrong address? Shit. That sucked. All the time that could be spent dancing and drinking would be spent finding the right address instead. Shit. I am not happy.
And then suddenly, the big iron gates creaked wide open and we were being beckoned in by the same guard. He came back, started the car before slowly sliding back in. We drove into a magical wonderland. Lights everywhere. Music blaring. Food smells wafting. People dancing. Color and shine everywhere. Wow! This was a party for sure. We found a parking spot.
As I stepped out the car with the help of my man, I saw another Maruti sedan slide into the parking spot right next to ours. I threw it a casual glance but then turned back again because I thought I saw Wady in the front seat. Yes, it was him. His grin, his evil grin, gave him away. I grinned right back. I was actually pleased to see him. I saw him open the back door to the sedan and out stepped two pretty girls—one petite and the other not so petite. They both wore short dresses with high heels and carried an air about them—one that could easily turn odorous and bitchy at the slightest provocation, I mused. I decided I didn’t like either one. I don’t do bitchy. I have good, happy, honest, kind, compassionate girlfriends. I didn’t need rich spoiled girls from South Delhi in my life then or ever. I turned to walk away from the car towards the party when he holds me up while he walks around to the other side to greet the girls! I see him kiss both on either cheek before hugging each in turn. The petite one seems to hug him just that little bit longer, I saw. Okay. What was this? I wasn’t surprised that he knew the girls. He knew Wady. Wady was a friend and as a friend I assumed they shared everything that boys shared. So I am sure Wady shared about the two chicks that he was now introducing to everyone as per their last discussion. I saw the petite one now looking with some longing at him as her cheeks looked warm red even in the dim light above us. Okay. Should I be reading more into this? I was now uncomfortable. I needed to get to the party, drink and eat and be merry. And miss bitchy was now seriously spoiling these plans. I saw red as soon as miss bitchy hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow to drag him towards the festivities. He threw me a helpless look. I think I threw him a short smile because I couldn’t let him know how pissed I was planning to be.
Rocky being the gentleman he was or maybe he was trying to make up for his inconsiderate dick of friend, offered me the crook of his arm to begin dragging me towards light. I followed throwing daggers at his back and the one who clung to the arm that belonged to me. I wish I was a bitch. I would have thrown the most spectacular tantrum right there ending the beginnings of a drama effectively. But my mama didn’t teach me to be spectacularly stupid. She taught me to wait while watching others be that. So I was going to do just that even as I seethed inside. But I wanted the sight before me to disappear as if by magic.
So I dragged Rocky towards the first bar I saw. I needed a drink. Rocky obliged. He knew not to do anything otherwise. He didn’t need to deal with a powder keg at the moment.
“So, tell me about you, Mr. Rocky Balboa—who are you? Where do you come from? Where do you go to? Anything that can be legitimately shared, I would like to know. I have time since my boyfriend decided to abandon me for something less than ordinary.” Rocky smiled. But his smile wasn’t directed at me, I took a second to realize. He was looking over my head. I didn’t need to turn to know who stood behind me.
So I continued to sip my Bombay Sapphire and gin before asking Rocky again, “So what gives, Mr. boxer from Detroit?”
“You really want to know?”
“Sure, we have all night.”
“No, you don’t. And no, he isn’t. We are going to the dance floor right now. I need a dance with you.”
“No, we are not. I am here making conversation with my new friend.” I retorted without looking at him. He still hadn’t emerged from behind me. Coward.
“Yes, we are. I am here to take you there—whether you go with me willingly or I carry you there.”
“Oh! He-man, are we?”
“No, just a good boyfriend who wants to dance with his beautiful girl-friend before the clock strikes mid-night. Then who knows, I might turn into a frog and you might find your prince.”
Before I could retort, my drink was taken away, I was being hauled up from the chair into a sweatered chest. I couldn’t even register my surprise when his mouth met mine and his tongue tangled with mine in the most dirty, erotic way. The mouth-to-mouth fusion went on and on and on till my knees felt weak enough to totter. I needed to sit. But his arms banded around me in a vice-like grip while his mouth stuck like Fevicol to mine. He was making a point while also apologizing at the same time.
I knew that. It was the most erotic apology ever.
And my vagina was clenching in respect. I think I began to cry and laugh at the same time. I kept my eyes tightly closed for I didn’t want to know what I would see when I opened them. If this was a dream then so be it. I needed for it to go on and on and on. But my feet were somehow moving, getting closer to the sound of music. I was suddenly on the dance floor held tightly into a circle of inflexible arms. I just had to move even if I felt I couldn’t. He made sure of it. So I moved, happy inside and out. I smiled as I closed my eyes to take in this sensation of being possessed, completely.
The warmth of his chest kept my breast easy and happy till I could feel him withdraw slowly as if reluctant to do this to us. My eyes blinked open. Instead of finding his eyes looking at me, they were looking beyond my shoulder. I tried to turn in the direction but his arms held me stable to the spot as if he cared who or what I saw behind me. His head jerked sideways as if to say no to that someone and then he was looking at me again, a slight regret reflecting in his eyes.
I wiggled free of him before coming face to face with a beetroot red pixie face. Her eyes were dark coal and her mouth was slightly twisted to the side in displeasure.
Okay. Who the fuck are you? My mind shouted even as its voice never manifested. I am sure though I was heard loud and clear by Ms. Pixie. With the threat of violence looming large, the concerned men stepped in. One of them was mine. He stood between her and me. I felt dwarfed. This angered me even more. What is this? Mafia moment? And who was being protected—me or her? Oh! It better not be her. That would really make me mad. I peeked from behind the tweed covered back of my irritating boyfriend.
She is crying! What the motherfucking, low-down, tactic to apply! Twit, I screamed in my head. Why am I not able to scream all this political incorrectness out? What am I? Ms. propriety when the other Ms. is pulling out all the feminine viles out of her bag of tricks? Now I want to confront her but I really don’t know what to say to her. How dare you? But what did she dare except crying in public which actually was not really a dare. It was just, well, interesting. I did want to know why she was crying.
“Why are you crying?” I finally blurted. Her eyes did not shift to me once. She knew I had said something to her because I was also looking directly at her. But her teary gaze remained fixed on the man blocking our direct paths to each other. Goddamit! She is quite a focused player, isn’t she? I step away from my hiding to cross my arms, showing my intention to watch how this drama plays out. He gives me a sideways. I don’t know what that means. We are not that in tune, yet. But I decide to stay where I am hoping that is exactly what he meant too. Because I am going to be very upset if he really wants me to step outside while he deals with this! He takes one look at my set face before turning away.
The music is too loud for me to hear what is being said. But he is two feet from her saying something quite rapidly. I see her eyes shift, becoming even more glassy. She reaches out to touch him and he let’s her! Her hand is now resting on his arm just short of clenching the material of his suit jacket. My teeth clench. But I stay still, waiting, watching, knowing decision time is approaching. He reaches out, pulls her head into his shoulder, kisses her forehead and as soon as it does he turns around to lock his eyes with mine. I don’t quite know what to do or what it all means. I hope it means we can leave now. But she clings to his other arm as tightly as she possibly can. He shakes it off but she is not ready to let go. He turns around to her, holds her by the elbows before looking directly into her eyes to say loudly enough for everyone, “Just let go. Don’t create a scene. I will not be happy.” She cowers and immediately turns to her friend and buries her face into her shoulder. The howling is coming, I suspect. I am still looking at her when his face blurs her away.
“Are you ready to go?” I nod. My hand is clasped and we are out into the bright night that is surprisingly quiet. Maybe the blaring music inside had made be deaf. We have not stopped to see or greet anyone. We are out the main door, seated into the back of Rocky’s car. Rocky and Wady have appeared from nowhere. Rocky has started the car while Wady is hanging in through the front window smiling stupidly, saying nothing but saying it all. There is a weird vibe in the car at least in those five minutes we sit there. The silence endures as we traverse through the sodium lighted streets of Delhi to, I am assuming, my house. Not a word has been uttered in the thirty minute ride back. My hand, however, is in a vice like grip. I feel slick between my palms and elsewhere too. This is hot in more than one way! I need to lighten the mood, though. This is getting too serious for words.
“Ok, thanks guys. See you when I see you.” I say as I attempt to step out the car. But I am jerked back into the car by the vice-like grip as a voice growls, “What the fuck?”
“I told you before the evening began, we are doing this, us, tonight and we are. Nothing has changed, capiche?”
“Seriously, capiche? Where are you going with your flair of languages, Mr.? This is not Fish Called Wanda—there is no fish, and I am not Wanda, in case you haven’t noticed. I am sure a certain someone will be happy to be your Wanda or whatever you want at this time of the night. Not me.”
I attempt once again to be free. But he is not ready for it.
“Get out.” He says abruptly. I am shocked. I still.
He says again, “Get out.” My cheeks heat as feel the beginnings of anger bubbling deep within. I am out the car before the frog could croak the second time. Damn! I am not going to cry. I cannot cry. This is stupid and he is a jerk. I fumble for the keys inside my bag. Why the fuck is it so dark out here? Stupid streetlights. Stupid city. Stupid country. Now the tears are free flowing. I wipe them away vehemently. I just need to get inside the house. I open the doors and his hand closes on mine.
“Get away. And stay away. Nobody talks to me the way you just did.” I push him as hard as I can. But he remains as stationary as a rock. Stupid men. I plan to slam the door on his face but he is already inside and locking the door behind him. Well, fuck me. Fine. He is sleeping on the couch and in the heat for all I care.
“Fine. Be my guest. Here is the couch and there is the fan switch. Good night.”
I attempt to move past him. No such luck. Nothing is getting past him, especially me. I refuse to look at him as we stand opposite each other, breathing heavy. The crickets are having a feast outside—the decibel levels are reaching a screaming pitch now. It matches our silence quite proportionately.
Suddenly, I am hoisted into his arms before he makes his way to my bedroom. I am desperately clutching his arm because I am not used to being in this tabletop position. I am dizzy—not sure from being parallel to the ground or from his audacity. He throws me on to the mattress on the floor! And before the surprise registers, his body covers mine. All breath has been squeezed out of my body, literally. His eyes sear into me even as his face slowly becomes a blur. He kisses me. There is no tentativeness here. This is no holds barred kind of a kiss. The tongue is kept at bay. But the lips are marauding, relentlessly pressing into mine. This is my first real kiss and its marvelous! He shifts slightly without breaking the lip lock, settling his body into my curves. He is hard. I feel him digging into my core, in that slightly uncomfortable and I-am-shocked kind of way. I am scared to discover his size when we get to it. I have really never seen one before.
My mother was misinformed once—that a women could get pregnant with a man’s middle finger. She never got the euphemism—penis equals a middle finger. So she went into her wedding night expecting an innocuous middle finger. I won’t venture to think of her shock at encountering an ugly serpent! Yes, I said “ugly” and “serpent” for there is nothing pretty about any penis—it is ugly in its obviousness, period. I wouldn’t want to see it—only experience what wonderful ways it can massage my insides if it is able to power itself through. Yes, I am talking orgasms. I need orgasms to know what the goddamn fuss has been about through the history of time. It better not suck and he better suck on it if his instrument suddenly turns useless on me. Right now I a
m feeling its magnificent tumescence and there are good possibilities here. I want to touch him but my hand won’t move. His lips haven’t shifted an inch. He is drawing all that is inside my mouth. Dear god!
Suddenly my lips are free but his mouth has found my ear.
“You taste so sweet. I bet you taste better down there. I bet I will find a sweet, sweet pussy with luscious, bee-bitten lips coated with your luscious juiciness. I bet you are so wet right now that your panties are soaked and you can’t wait to get these off so you can find some air to cool your core. I know how I make you feel. I know how your vagina clenches every time I come near you and all your juices spill out without warning. I know that when you get home you have to change underwear but not before feeling and licking your own juices. All the while you are thinking of me and sucking hard on your finger, hoping it was my penis that you had in your mouth instead. And sometimes you come so hard that you scream like there is no one in this world except you. I know you wish that my mouth was right there when you come so I can lick away every single drop. And you know that I will with much pleasure. So tell me—are you wet or are you wet?”
I have no words. This is the most erotic, up close and personal spiel I have ever heard or probably ever will.
“I am wet.” Well, well. The words slip out before a brain freeze.
Damn! He has already slid down my body, my panties have been dispensed with and his thicket of hair is all I see between my legs. His tongue does a quick cursory lick of my cunt and my stomach clenches so hard that I can feel pain radiate across all nerves. His lips substitute for his tongue as he performs a quick series of suction on my lips down there. I am slipping into an orgasmic state. My body feels like liquid. I am not on earth anymore. This is my entry into a different stratosphere where I know I will experience all sensations so extreme that I will be numb after.