In Bangalore, overlooking the omission of Trisha
Hey Arun,
Usually, I start these letters by calling you baby or darling. But I can't anymore.
We've experienced everything together, Arun. Our lives from the second year of college to now in Bangalore. We've been through it all.
Do you remember how we first met at the orientation for the newspaper club? I was sitting in the front with Shwarna while you were somewhere in the middle. I didn't even know your face until the end when we were taking group photos.
It's funny how things happened after that day. It was because you were so brave, Arun. You walked over to us. You didn't know our names, or anything about us. But you still talked to us. You made us laugh. You were so passionate, so happy. After our dinner together that day, when we shared our dreams and hearing about our journeys, and laughing at those silly jokes, I was hooked.
But now, when I think about what I'm going to do to you. What I've already done. It hurts so much.
It's the coward's way out. I know this.
I wish I hadn't accepted your invitation to go out with you when you finally mustered the courage to ask me. Even though I got my friends to push you, I regret it now. And when we graduated and moved to Bangalore, I wish you had taken that job offer in Mumbai instead of following me. Maybe the distance would have torn us apart. Fewer phone calls, fewer texts, fewer people who make you smile.
We were so many 'together forever' couples from college. Since I'm ending things now, I feel you'll have nothing. No friends, no comfort.
As your girlfriend for four years, I owe you closure.
We're not getting married, Arun. I can't disappointment my parents. They're getting older, and I'm scared for my mom because of her diabetes. You've met them. They're good people. Not at fault for this.
I am. I'm the worst, most selfish girlfriend in the world.
Because I'm cutting off our relationship. With my best friend, my love, my everything.
So that I can be the obedient daughter my parents demanded from me. The perfect, eldest child who will never disappoint anyone. The fake fairytale character for my little brother and my cousins to follow.
You know. My parents found me a guy from the USA. One of those startup guys you always see at dinner parties and conferences.
Cliché, right? Despite leaving you, I'll probably not find true love in him. He'll handle my needs and my desires. He reassured me that he'd take care of me. Maybe this means that I'll have to have children faster than I planned. I know what you're thinking. I'm being hypocritical, right? I gave you everything as a boyfriend and girlfriend. Except for that one thing.
And now, here I am. Talking about having kids and being a mother. It's a waste of the one gift I had left to give you. To someone who may not even love me.
I'm sorry.
It doesn't matter anymore. I guess I'm telling you all of this as I want you to hate me. So that you see how I've betrayed you. What I've done. Then, you'll see me for who I am.
A coward, a terrible person.
My apologies.
Forget me.
Trisha.
He had a feeling of unease as he tried to understand why. What had transpired the previous night? Had the city's cricket team, Royal Challengers Bangalore, finally won a match? Had his HR manager stopped implying that the 0.001% raise was overly generous from the company?
After a brief pause, he recognized the cause.
Yes, it had been an age since he'd woken up imagining the ceiling fan falling on him. Instead, he shared a connection with the spinning fan. Both were perpetually in motion and never went anywhere. At least the fan hadn't given up yet.
He gazed for a while at the whirling blades, mesmerized. "Besides," he considered, "the air conditioner was already operating -"
Wait. "The A/C?" Arun sat up in alarm. Why was the air conditioner still operational? What about the electricity bill?
They never left it running for more than an hour at night. Not even if it felt like they'd dozed in a bathtub of moisture. Arun panicked upon recalling his landlord's threat that such tactics were mere jokes from American sitcoms.
He jumped out of bed, stark naked, looking less like Batman and more like Robin after a startling encounter with the Joker. He was about to search frenetically for the A/C remote when he stopped.
Wait.
This wasn't his room.
First and foremost, everything was too clean. And second, there was an apparent absence of his flatmate's shrill insults during his 4 AM Counterstrike gaming sessions. (Regardless, they always managed to leave for work together at 9 AM.)
So, what was this location?
A muttered groan disrupted the silence on the other side of the bed. The sheets shifted as the person occupying the bed adjusted themselves for a better fit.
It was the prostitute.
"Ahhh!" Arun relaxed, filled with an abrupt sense of elation. As a result, his memories became clearer.
"Hah!" He smirked, puffing out his chest. "Life can crush my heart into bits, pulverize the fragments, and expose them to radiation. But I won't be defeated!" Arun grinned maniacally.
After a swift check, he discovered he still didn't possess superpowers. "But at least I won't magically become a wizard at 30. Hah."
A thought crossed his mind. If everything he remembered was real and not a clever conspiracy by encroaching aliens, then - Wow.
His face turned scarlet.
They'd had sex in countless locations - even animals would've been embarrassed by their antics. He was stunned by his actions. "Fucking around wasn't something I believed I'd do," he thought, elated. "But you know, porn could be useful."
Looking through the glass, he could spot the spot where he'd pinned the woman to the wall and done his deed. The physics involved was a subject the housekeepers would likely debate.
Overjoyed by the sight, Arun felt hopeful and free. Who cared if Suresh, the sycophant, received the 'Employee of the Week' award? He could get named 'Client of the Month' by the hooker.
Speaking of which, why was she still there? He examined her curiously. Naked alongside him, her long hair had created a shaggy mop. Her arms sprawled across the pillow, her fingers entangled in the sheets, her waist revealed. Her navel seemed to smile at him. Though still dark, Arun could make out her recognizable features - a pretty face resembling those Insta models, but no filters or partners. Her eyebrows were defined, giving her a sexy, confident air.
He found her more attractive due to the sharply-lined eyebrows. It was as if she were a big sister figure around him, often found outside threading salons. They had a smooth, slim outline that accentuated the entirety of her face and gave her a faintly haughty expression.
He admired the woman's naturally alluring appearance. Most women, including his ex, spent hours trying to achieve the "no makeup" look. The prostitute, however, would pass for a TV actress or even a model with only minimal retouching. Who exactly was she?
As he considered this, his manhood, eager to join in on the praises, raised itself to a semi-erection.
"That's nice," he mused as he took note of his rising member. He felt comforted that his diminutive manhood was up for the job even after a night of pleasure. He had feared that, because he had just lost his virginity the day before, his penis would call in sick for the day and refuse to cooperate. He caressed it reassuringly, shivering as a ripple of pleasure rolled through the sensitive head.
The next impediment was that, while there might not be any official rulebook on it, the protocol when one hires a sex worker most likely did not include some early morning snuggles and affectionate kissing. At least, not without spending more money. Sex workers did not typically engage in gentle aftercare from what he knew. Better to search on Shaadi.com for that kind of thing.
"Time for a quick wank then," he decided, feeling a skip in his heart still high after the previous night's escapades. He had the perfect muse for a masturbation session just inches away from him. Easing back under the sheets, he continued to admire the subject of his appreciation.
The prostitute's stunning breasts were smashed together while she lay on her side. If only he could cup them and give them a firm squeeze, Arun focused on the act of self-authentication.
He visualized her body imploringly, contorting in positions that would have made great additions to the Kama Sutra. It helped that, between the pillows and sheets, her curvaceous form remained visible. As he traced the soft, curvaceous contours of her body with his gaze, Arun experienced a surge of arousal.
He stroked his foreskin over his argument, running his fingers over the head experimentally. Some droplets of precome oozed out of its tip, helping to lubricate his penis. Although it was just masturbation, Arun instinctively held his breath as he felt his breath quicken with anticipation.
Here he was, with an attractive girl lying in his bed while he stroked himself off to her body. The feeling of acquiring something that did not belong to him, using this girl without her knowledge, felt sinful. Having waited for four long years to finally get laid, Arun dived into the deep end, uninhibitedly embracing every fantasy he had kept stored away for just this moment.
He found himself spurring his pace into a steady rhythm. A glance at the call girl revealed her full lips slightly parted and eyes closed in apparent sleep. Well, that wasn't going to last long once she realized what was happening.
Suddenly, her eyes darted open abruptly, revealing the shock on her face.
"Huh?" she inquired, one smooth eyebrow raised. She cleared her throat and repositioned herself with a pillow, exposing her ample cleavage. "Oh, don't let me interrupt you. In fact-" she slid from under the sheets, exposing more of her skin, displaying the sweet, pink folds of her sex. "Why don't you let me give you a hand? Without, you know, actually giving you a 'hand.'" she suggested. Her eyes sparkled with humor as she looked at him.
His breath was held rapturously.
"Really?" he replied with more self-assurance than he anticipated. Springing out of bed, he took a knee, extending his hips toward her. Rock-hard and ready, his erection flexed before her.
"Mmmhm," she confirmed, her eyes taking in his engorged penis. An expression of lust spread across her face, and her cheeks flushed as she anticipated what was to come.
"Want to see what I've got, Daddy?" she teased, staring at his length. Arun loved the way she used the word 'Daddy' with such sensuality.
He continued to stroke himself, panting. "Yeah," he moaned, feeling his pleasure intensify. Watching someone get aroused by his time alone heightened the sensations from his hand alone.
"Turn around," he urged, tugging at his breath. He wanted to see that ass of hers.
She smoothly twisted around, moving like a slithering snake. By sliding her legs apart, her lush hindquarters came into view. Arun's hands itched to cup those round haunches. Her wink constituted a silent invitation.
Arun shook himself, pushing out his hips to display his erection. She shot him a sultry glance before swinging her hips, offering her plump behind.
"Oooooooooh," she muttered in surprise, her eyes widening. Arun chuckled naughtily, swaying his hips to simulate spanking her with his erection. Inspired by this thought, Arun moved in close, thrusting his hips and lifting his penis.
"Hey you," Arun said to the prostitute, using a strict tone. "You damn harlot. You filthy whore. I'm sure your husband hardly has a hard-on," he said, gazing at the woman to see her response. Her expression remained confused, but there was also a hint of curiosity. She nodded slightly.
With a sly grin, Arun continued, "I'm guessing you wake up at night, masturbating yourself while the guy next to you snores peacefully after only a few thrusts. I'm guessing you're imagining what you really want." He started moving his hips, thrusting his member.
Trisha gazed at Arun with a bewitched look. "That's right," Arun thought.
He stared intensely at the prostitute, his eyes filled with furious lust as he approached his climax. She bit her lip. Arun realized then, "She's enjoying this."
Driven by this revelation, he decided to take a risk. Grabbing the sheets, he whisked them away from her body, revealing her naked form. The prostitute opened her eyes wide in amazement as much at the chill in the air as at her forced nakedness.
Without a word, Arun started to move towards her. She watched him silently, but her hands were busy; they were already moving downwards. Soon, she released a sigh as her fingers started working on her pussy. Apparently, she was quite horny from the role-play.
"I'm going to climb on top of you," Arun told her, trying to sound confident. She remained silent, but subtly raised her chin.
"Don't fuck me," she said, and then added teasingly, "too hard."
"Big talk for someone with a gushing well down there," Arun said mockingly, grinning at her. He slowed down his movements as he positioned himself above her. Her body was warm, especially in the cold air that surrounded their room. Wrap his arms around her back, he pulled her closer to him. She protested briefly but couldn't say more after Arun captured her in a kiss.
Then, pressing her body against his, he rubbed his cock against her breasts. "I bet your husband can't do something like this for you," Arun said harshly, slapping her breasts with his dick. She moaned softly, her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and she looked at him with hunger in her eyes. There was precum oozing out from his cock, and Arun added to the slipperiness by spitting on her breasts.
"A typical Indian man," she muttered in half-anger. "Spitting on your own and obsessing over breasts." They both laughed. Even in the heat of passion, it seemed easy, natural, and fun to laugh. It seemed they had great chemistry.
However, in the back of Arun's mind, an alarm went off. But he ignored it, focusing on the present. He needed to make a decision. Should he tease her breasts more or should he focus on foreplay? She looked at him curiously, almost laughing at him.
Finally, she chuckled. "A rookie." She grabbed his forearms and pressed them against her neck. "I'm just a whore. I'm not your good girl Sue." She arched her back, pushing his length between her breasts. Arun shuddered, feeling the velvety softness encasing his dick.
Her tongue flickered out at him, mimicking his earlier action, and whispering, "Tell me. If you wanted to fuck a whore like me, how would you do it? Show me, daddy."
Arun's face turned bright red. Even as she lay beneath him, it seemed she was on top. With a roar, he lunged at her, also squeezing his hands around her neck.
"Aaah!" The prostitute yelped, her eyes bulging. Her mouth filled with Arun's lips, and she was sucking in deep breaths while grinding her breasts against him. She even started subtly rubbing her pussy with her other hand.
Arun became worried. But she gulped, kept her gaze on him, and flopped down her legs, pressing her toes into the bed sheets. Was she about to cum? He wondered.
The idea sparked his arousal. Each thrust between her tits felt smooth and pleasurable, causing wave after wave of pleasure to overtake his body. [Arun ejaculates]. However, he knew this was only temporary. He would need to do something to make this casual encounter more satisfying. [Arun moves his arms to hold her down].
"Yes, yes," she hissed, sensing that he was about to reach her. "Come for me. Give it to me." Her body trembled as she neared the edge.
Together, they both reached the pinnacle of pleasure. The prostitute gasped as her orgasm engulfed her. Her eyes rolled back as her orgasm was quickly followed by several smaller ones, shaking her usually composed demeanor.
Arun climaxed just as intensely. Streams of hot semen squirted from his penis. His semen landed everywhere - on her breasts, her face, and the pillows. It was more of a semen explosion than anything else. Their orgasms seemed to last forever, as his penis continued to release load after load of semen while her body shook underneath him.
As a true professional, she didn't stop pressing his penis against her breasts. Even as droplets of semen started to drip from her chest and face, she prolonged his orgasm with an extended embrace in her softness.
"Mmm," she murmured, licking pieces of semen around her mouth and nose. He had released his grip on her neck by now, but even then, he could see the bruises forming on her throat. He looked at his hands guiltily.
With a deep breath, she propped herself up a little on the pillows. "A towel, please, sir?" She asked him in a naughty way. He quickly ran to the bathroom to get one of the fluffy hand towels. "Some water as well," she called out after him.
When he returned with the towels, she was inspecting her phone. She wasn't actually looking at it, though. She was taking a few selfies. "Now they'll have to believe me when I say 100% satisfaction guaranteed," she said with a naughty smile. "Also-"
She pouted, "You pressed a little too hard. Now I'll have to wear a scarf outdoors." As she mentioned it, he could see the bruises turning red quite quickly.
He looked at her guiltily, "I'm sorry."
"I know, cutie." She said as she carefully wetted the towel. "Just remember this though - it's more about making me believe you choked me harder than actually doing so." He nodded sheepishly as he watched her wipe the semen and juices from herself.
"Well," Arun said, trying to be funny, "Maybe I'll practice that next time."
She gave him a suspicious look, "Next time, huh? What makes you think there will be a next time?"
"Um, well." Arun hesitated, "Maybe if I buy you a fancy dinner or something."
She snorted, then gave him a thoughtful look. "No. No dinner. Just come here." She patted the bed beside her.
If Arun had been a sailor, he would have realized her invitation was a siren's enticing lure. But the bliss of ejaculating semen clouded his mind. He walked right into her trap. In an instant, she was on top of him. Her hands, seemingly tireless, roamed across his body, caressing his shoulders and chest. "I need you to be a very, very hard boy," she said seductively, dancing her butt over his nether regions. Her tongue darted out to grab his fingers.
Of course, Arun could have resisted, standing tall in defense of his chastity. But he wanted to have sex with this woman as often as possible. Plus, he was mesmerized by her enticing behind, and his penis was quickly going hard again.
The prostitute didn't stop rubbing his penis against her breasts. Even as streams of semen dribbled from her chest and face, she maintained her embrace in her softness.
"I don't know if you have another orgasm left in you," she said seductively, "but I'll tell you this - I'm definitely not done experiencing my last orgasm of the night."
Arun could have pushed her off, defending his honor. But he was too stunned by her amazing ass grinding on the bed, pushing his cock towards her buns. His penis responded quickly.
The prostitute didn't let up either. She took his fingers into her mouth in a sensual way, "I like your hair," she said lazily while lying on top of him. "It's so soft."
Arun began to unwind. They had both reached their peaks, enabling them to handle one another's bodies more delicately. As she pleasured his fingers, he pressed his pelvis against her buttocks, savoring the sensation of her curves as she tended to his body. He pulled her closer and draped his other arm around her.
She tense a bit, as if surprised, then let go. She then leaned over to kiss him. They made out, savoring each other's flavors and allowing their senses to grow from the point of contact down below. Arun caressed the side of her face and hugged her as he continued to kiss and lick at her lips and tongue.
The hooker slid her hand behind herself, grabbed his shaft, and positioned it at her entrance. Gradually, she arched backward and nudged the tip inside. Then, with just the tip inside, she paused and smirked. Dropping down onto his chest, she gazed at him with overemphasized eyes.
"Perhaps we should call it a day, daddy? It's growing late now," she said.
Arun glared at her. "Hmph" He grunted as he struggled to raise his pelvis to reach her pussy.
"Hmmmm" She joked "Seems daddy's having some trouble getting at my tiny slit. Hmm, maybe you should find a different girl next time." She wiggled her butt again, stimulating his tip with her folds. Arun clenched his teeth in vexation.
With no other option, he grasped her waist and pushed her down, attempting to force his way into her slippery opening. "Ooooh" She sighed, resisting slightly. She moved closer to his chest, purposely preventing him from plunging his entire length into her. "Still can't get in?" She giggled playfully.
Arun slumped back, stumped again. Having stimulated her so much, it was galling what she was doing to him. There was so much moisture between them that he could feel her juices dripping onto his tip and crotch. He simply couldn't wedge himself into her pussy from this angle. If only he could- he glanced at the portion of her face that was closest to him.
Her ear.
Without knowing why he did it, Arun licked her ear. The effect was immediate - the prostitute rocked back. Arun didn't need a second opportunity. He seized her waist and drove her down, forcing his entire length into her slippery hole.
"Aaaaaah!" She squealed, stunned. Her eyes rolled back as the tip of his member pressed onto her cervix. "Oh my god, oh my god!"
Meanwhile, Arun was tightening up. He frantically tried not to unload in her raw, slick pussy after just a stroke.
"Crap" He growled, gulping in air. He required something devoid of eroticism. The man had teased each other so roughly that when he finally entered her, the walls of her pussy welcomed his endowment right away and clung to it at all of the right spots.
'Don't cum!' He pondered rapidly. Don't cum. 4+3=7 Thala for a purpose. Oh no no. He needed something unerotic, not MS Dhoni. "Trisha!" He shouted, withdrawing his cock from the hooker's pussy before slamming it back inside. "Take this, you slut. You fucking whore!"
"Yes, Yes. Oh God yes!" She moaned as her body prepared for her release. She rocked her hips to match his movements, grinding herself against him. "Harder! I need it harder" She shrieked.
Arun's fingers still gripped her waist. He treated her like a fleshlight, jerking off his cock with her bod. He shut himself off from everything - from the vision of her body moving in preorgasmic ecstasy to the sound of her voice urging him to treat her like the slut she was. He focused on ramming her body down as he pummeled her with his member.
For several minutes, they had sex wildly. As their hips collided, they chased their climaxes. Arun could feel himself reaching the end of his endurance. Heaving now, he attempted every technique at his disposal. He bounced himself off the mattress, used his arms to propel her up and down on his member, and even tried short, shallow thrusts to somehow overcome that edge.
"I'm about to come" The prostitute said, her breathing so labored. "Almost. Just." She shut her eyes and threw back her head. "Just-"
With the last ounce of strength remaining, Arun launched himself for one final, full-thrust of his penis. As she slammed her body down on him, his cock nailed her to the hilt. And that was enough to trigger her orgasm.
Arun felt her body sag with relief as he released inside her, causing a borderline involuntary shudder. Every tiny drop of his semen poured out of his balls, leaving his penis bone dry. Out of nowhere, he acknowledged the fact that he was just engaged in unprotected sexual intercourse with an escort. He had given her enough semen to impregnate an elephant.
He consciously thought about the logic, "Well, at least I'm not a two-pump chump."
His companion sneered, "Quit boasting." They exited the hotel around 11 AM using a rear escape route. The motel manager, who had accepted a bribe, bid them goodbye using a wink of complicity.
His companion responded, "I'm not boasting," faking sincerity. "You're loving this, aren't you? It's kinda tiring on these limbs." She teased, visibly off-balance from the experience.
"Really, I'm not," Arun responded through a smug expression. "Liar." She playfully scolded. "You're loving this, and it's obvious."
A long silent period followed as they strolled towards the main road. Some of the auto-rickshaw drivers on the curb side watching them seemed interested in their prospects for lucrative business. The rickshaw drivers in Bangalore were notorious for exorbitant prices and half-functional vehicles.
A sudden pang of concern swelled in Arun's heart. He was weighing his probability of stealing a ride back home. Suddenly, she spoke: "Don't worry yourself, mate. They'll probably land in trouble if they've recorded us."
"Er, right," Arun mumbled in relief. His mind was jumbled with rhetorics – having unprotected sex, possible sexual recordings, a bizarre attachment to a sari, and a post-tryst ejaculation.
The meaningful silence continued as they moved towards their destination. Finally, she started talking, "Umm, about the last part..." Her tone shifted to despondence. "I'm barren. So there is no need to bother with contraceptives."
"Oh," Arun said, feeling awkward. "That's a bummer."
Frustration flowed across her face. "Thanks for walking me all the way here." Her phone vibrated erratically, indicating a call from a potential customer. Turning her attention to the phone, she remarked, "My scooter is parked in that alley over there."
Arun nodded, his mind returning to the earlier conversation. Suddenly, he became enlightened. "Oh! The barrenness." He finally understood the earlier irritability. "If I'd heard this from any other guy, he'd have asked about raw intercourse."
"No one would do that," Arun answered, completely flabbergasted. "I would have thought about hiring multiple sex workers and wastin' away... pursuing more raw encounters."
Shaking his head, he noticed the escort mount her scooter. "Thanks for walking me this far." She smiled without a trace of sarcasm.
"Any time," replied Arun, still lost in his thoughts.
She gave him a light pat on his arm, before leading the scooter away. He stood there, his mind still occupied by creepy hotel staff and the implications of raw sex. "Wait, did she mention the barrenness issue?"
"Barren? Does that mean infertile?" He surmised, assuming the absolute worst. "I mean, it's not like I was sad for her... I'm just further annoyed because I thought she was being conceited about her sterility."
They resumed walking towards their separate paths. All he could think about as he approached home was how he wanted to forget this entire experience. "I have a distaste for sad women," he concluded. "And here I am making her cry."
From then on, he repeatedly assessed, "Maybe, if I'd hired more prostitutes and screwed them more, I could've become some randyman who asks these tired women for unprotected sex."
Then the thought came: "What the bloody f*ck?"
He had witnessed what lay beneath the fabric. He had seen the supple skin, the alluring curvature, and that seductive waist which could contort in multiple ways. Even if she was dressed in an Imperial soldier's armor, he would still gaze in awe of what was hidden beneath.
"Better call me later." The sex worker suggested with some irritation. "Not too soon" she added. "Perhaps in a couple of weeks, after I'm finished with... " She paused to count the days with her fingers. "Client Signature Package Thursday to the following Friday." With that, she put on her helmet and switched on the scooter.
After she departed, Arun turned around to witness a pack of rickshaw drivers looking on with great interest. The situation, as they observed it, was two lovers in desperate need of a ride over a short distance for a fee commensurate to their weight in gold. However, the appearance of the adversary - the scooter - had dashed their hopes.
These drivers were left clenching their teeth as the pair, just like many others, hopped onto the two-wheeler and sped away. Most likely, they would then join the hands of the traffic police officer waiting on the next corner to fine them for disrupting the traffic lights.
Now, Arun was left alone. And without the obligatory courtesy that comes along with a woman's presence, he would now have to face the full ire of the rickshaw drivers.
"Ah" He responded in a monosyllabic manner.
It was no longer a feeling of remorse, but more of embarrassment now that he, too, could scorn at virgin olive oil. The fact was that Trisha and he had never consummated their relationship.
They had snuggled together for hours, occupying each other's arms, whether they were on their phones or working on their laptops. Sometimes in the evenings or at night, they would even be tucked in their underwear. Arun could recall with fondness the moments where he would peer intently at her bra as though he were attempting to bore a hole through it. Trisha would typically roll her eyes or cover herself with a blanket when that occurred.
However, they had never experienced the act of sexual intercourse.
Naturally, there had been times where he had craved more. He had attempted to suggest this to her by allowing her to touch his genitals. She, in response, had done something equally gentle by flicking at his testicles. Ouch.
Despite her response, she had been kind to him afterwards, stroking his head as he lay in pain from the agonizing discomfort.
Yet, he had always believed they could engage in more stimulating activities; they could delve into oral or even the use of toys. He had always communicated his eagerness to give as much as he would receive.
Even then, she had said no.
"I need more stability in my life, Arun." She confessed at last, following another tense conversation. "And I'm unsure as to what that is, right now."
When pressed for a more definitive answer, she stated, "Perhaps I'll obtain an MBA first, or secure a promotion at work. We'll sort it out."
"Give me some time, okay?"
"Some time?" Arun mused, still at work. Product testing was a role that made one feel like they were crushing rocks in jail. The only difference was that his boss loomed over him more than any prison guard would.
"How about some additional pizza to improve the spirits this evening, huh, Arun?" He inquired, prompting a gust of air down Arun's neck. His heart sank a little. Raj (his boss) was not exactly being discreet; under the guise of redirecting pizza from their in-house cafeteria, he was effectively asking him to work late.
"Sure, Raj." Arun responded. "Pizza would be excellent."
Raj leaned in anticipatorily, as if expecting to hear another remark from Arun. When the latter remained mute, he stepped back, appearing slightly dejected.
"Send me a report on the testing in approximately ten minutes, alright?" Raj made a sweeping motion with his hands. "I have to update the clients. Be certain to credit your name on it."
Arun tried his best not to roll his eyes.
A picture of a prostitute riding his dick popped into Arun's mind, dressed partly in an undone saree. He gasped and sucked in a deep breath as his dick flexed in his pants. Although he wasn't only thinking about other women, Trisha was more than just a result of his sexual desires.
Yes, the lack of sex was a significant concern. But Trisha had been his confidante, his best friend, and, unofficially, his fiancee. They were supposed to get married when, not if.
Additionally, he couldn't disagree with her arguments. They couldn't afford to live together. Having sex, even with protection, had the risk of pregnancy. And the consequences of that were too serious to envision.
It was selfish, he knew, to engage in disagreements over sex. However, he couldn't help but let it cultivate animosity toward her. Partly, it was for trivial reasons - he had noticed his friends having sex frequently, making him jealous and irritated about his situation.
However, there was also a part of him that thought it was unfortunate that after four years together, they were unable to physically express their love for each other through their bodies. Isn't that a crucial milestone in any relationship? Arun reasoned as he scrolled through lines of code, trying to satisfy Raj's need for updates.
Consequently, even though they had never argued majorly over this matter, after Trisha's letter arrived, he experienced a range of excruciating emotions. The reasonable side of him argued that he had never been entitled to sex from anyone.
And especially, would he have been okay with sleeping with someone who abandoned him without even saying goodbye? Terminating four years of emotional connection wasn't easy. So, even if they had had sex, the relationship would have been empty. Wedding invitations and joyous in-laws wouldn't be printed.
But his monkey brain yelled that Trisha was a bitch and a whore who pretended to be a prude until she met someone with money. While money is crucial, isn't it? But still. She had withheld herself, only to sleep with the first man her parents found for her. This was so unfair. This is why people write enormous books about retribution, such as "The Count of Monte Cristo."
'It doesn't matter anymore' thought Arun sadly. The thought of starting over, finding someone new, and actually dating them sounded exhausting. And even before that, the idea of taking the same course of pretending another person is perfect while you eat a dosa with a fork (only psychopaths eat this way) was overwhelming.
He was about to write a short update to Raj about a slight adjustment needed in the product when the conference room door opened.
"There you are," Ishita said in a brisk tone. She walked purposefully towards Arun, with Raj and an unknown girl trailing behind her. While Ishita was all business, the other two had confused expressions.
"Something's up," thought Arun.
"Twinkle, meet Arun," Ishita said, pointing to the unfamiliar girl. "Arun, this is Twinkle. See. Like I mentioned, you're about to acquire more responsibilities. I believe Arun is the most technically accomplished person in our team." She added, "Also, Raj is overwhelmed with other tasks."
Raj scoffed. To Arun, it seemed like the same sound his neighbor's wife made when she gargled water on the balcony in the mornings.
Nodding to Arun, Ishita said, "Arun, I think you're ready for more responsibilities now. Oversee Twinkle's training, okay?" Pointing to his screen, she continued, "By the way, she's still checking all the technicalities." Ishita left abruptly, not waiting for reactions. As Arun slowly turned around, he noticed two sets of eyes watching him—Raj's glared at him with envy and disdain while Twinkle observed him.
On the contrary, Twinkle was staring at him as if he had just dropped a big pile of bird poop on her hair.
"Hello," Arun greeted awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Raj. "Twinkle, isn't it? I'm Arun."
"Nice to meet you."
Thank you so much for your lovely comments and feedback on chapter 1 of 'Forgetting Trisha in Bangalore.'
I attempted to write a lengthier sex scene in this chapter, but it was a major challenge. I really hope that with more practice, I can improve at depicting without getting too detailed. My tiny vixen assisted me in creating this one (thanks honey!) and she particularly aided in the descriptions for the females.
I hope you enjoy this chapter and see you in chapter 3 (hopefully very soon). Cheers!
Read also:
- Mind Control Experiment by F.L.R.
- Greetings, Your Highness Part 2
- Enjoy a delightful mix of sports and sweets with Football Sundae.
- A Unique Gathering
Source: www.nice-escort.de
