14/11/2016 1 Comment seductress........She lay there before me, seductive as ever, irresistible and inviting. It had been quite a while since the last time. And, this intervening period had me craving for her. I had left the city a year ago and ever since then our rendezvous had turned infrequent, being limited to my occasional and brief visits. In my one-room bachelor’s pad in the temple town where I now lived, I had spent many sleepless nights dreaming about her. It left me with a feeling so hollow that the pain of denial went down to the bottom of my belly – a tricky part of the anatomy to deal with! In the holy town, she and her ilk were taboo. And, my kind – the kind that had anything to do with her and her tribe - was scorned upon. Apparently, peddling of piety and trading of flesh did not coexist. I couldn’t care any less! She always wore a particular scent and this fragrance had me possessed! For the many years that I had known her, and the numerous intimate moments that I spent with her, her fragrance was unchanging. We had been introduced many years ago when I was still in college by two of my chums. They had been frequenters and I had followed them one day after cutting classes, with untold trepidation in my heart. What I next did was unthinkable, for I had been raised in an orthodox home by my religious parents. It was sinful of me! On her part, she had me hooked with her charms. It was love at first sight. One could argue that it was lust, not love. I shall not attempt to contest this charge, but it has been an undeniable fact of my life that I had been hooked to her ever since. I had landed at Calcutta airport less than two hours ago and had driven straight to her place! The thought of an incipient reunion had made the bottled-up emotions of longing quite unbearable. I cast a loving glance at her as she lay before me. She had lost some weight since I last saw her four months ago. Yes, she was a lot thinner than I ever remembered. Clients, I knew, preferred the plumper types. And, yes, she wore that same intoxicating fragrance. The place was its usual self – the same musty smell and peeling paints – overused and in desperate need to be cleaned. Previous clients had been careless in leaving stains on the walls. I squirmed at the sight! Outside, cacophonous clients were bargaining for lower rates. I recognised some voices. ‘The faithful lot’ I said to myself. Even age hadn’t stopped some of these old-timers from flocking here. They had all fallen prey to the lust of flesh. ‘Get lost if you can’t pay the rates,’ hollered the hideously ugly, toothless and pot-bellied man at the entrance. The elderly customer was stunned into silence for a few moments, but quickly regained composure and meekly submitted ‘Ok, ok, I will pay what you ask”. ‘Hooked once, hooked forever’ I smiled as I mused inwardly. Getting to the place was difficult. This was the only thing that I disliked about coming here. Even today, I had to negotiate narrow alleys and get past cantankerous rickshaw pullers. Yet, the aficionados preferred this place to the more upmarket joints on Free School Street, where the wares were more visibly advertised behind glass windows. Those were mere pretenders! I looked at her with hunger in my eyes and with the lust of a beast. Her allure was devastating! She had always brought out the wild side in me. I tried to control my urges. Nothing quite spoils it like rushing! I approached her slowly and gingerly ran a finger over her. She was warm, soft and juicy, just as I had left her three months ago. She may have lost some flesh – perhaps, effects of inflation that had engulfed the nation recently, I thought – but a mere touch of her skin told me that she had lost none of her charms. Did she quiver slightly at my touch, or was it my imagination? I spread her delicately, taking care to be gentle and slow with my fingers. I smiled naughtily at her at the sight of her juices that dripped down her middle. I brought my mouth close to her and with a swish of my tongue lapped up the delectable secretion. Her smell had me intoxicated. I could hold myself back no longer. I felt the juices gush within me and discarding all discretion that I had so far displayed, I dug my teeth into her flesh. The hooker had me again! It is not without reason that people have said for over a hundred years that nobody makes tastier sheik-kebabs than Nizam’s of Calcutta.
1 Comment
Rohit Malhotra
15/11/2016 03:21:26 am
Each moment has been described beautifully.
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