1 Prologue

In a flashy space on the third floor of the Sovano's, Shayan took a hard look at his roughened phone screen, unsure if his borrowed cotton blazer and a pair of faded blue jeans befit the luscious bosom that stared back. His life was about to cross a milestone if the odds were in his favor. A few exchange of uninhibited texts and a hasty below the neck video call later, he had rushed to the said venue to meet the face that boasted that subjugating figure. If not for another spiteful plight of a virtual prank, the man was going to have his first, with her.

Shayan had ordered a can of soda, asking the waitress to come back in a few minutes when his guest had arrived. The whir in the pub was like the churning of stone-chips. Men and women swayed to booming, wordless music; some had come to bust a few moments out of their mundane lives, others had showed to hook. It was a culture Shayan was yet to get used to. He had lodged in a corner booth, his buoyant gaze lingering between his cellphone and the entrance searching for the girl in a white t-shirt and grey pants. The multicolored disco lights flickered, creating an erratic aura of bright and dark, like his entrails that beamed in exhilaration and scowled in fear. The overcharged can of a strong soda was doing nothing to his psyche.

When she arrived fifteen minutes later, he faltered to get up and greet for several uncountable seconds, the woman from the patently cropped picture, and a three second lude video call was real.

Words didn't escape their mouths as they sat quietly, opposite to each other. Her smile was indelicate, almost wicked. Her almond eyes prowled for his soul, his flapped in hesitation. The perfection of a woman wanted him. The music didn't anymore irritate his ears. Her spotless face had tuned out the noise. He followed her when she got up, confused and hopeful.

From the pub to her apartment the one thing she had said was to get a cab. Even the video call had been wordless.

Throughout the tranquil ride in the windy spring night of Mumbai, Shayan stole audacious glances at her, admired her peachy skin, curvaceous form, the few red streaks on her long straight hair, and the tastefully peaking cleavage.

When they arrived at her high-end crib at the top floor of a twenty-seven storey, the girl wasted no time and locked the doors from inside and stood in front of him. It was then, for the first time under the strikingly lit ceiling, Shayan noticed her cold, empty face. Her shiny skin under the deceiving club lighting had concealed its infirmity. She looked sick.

The woman held his hand and led him into one of the bedrooms. As if his visual range had narrowed down to a minute angle, nothing but a squeaky rubber doormat registered in his blurred brain, and her, only her. He didn't notice how awfully deserted the apartment was. How it didn't look feminine. The girl stopped near a huge bed and eyed him. The next moment Shayan was on the latex mattress, it was the softest thing he had ever felt, but that thought died faster than a big girl's self-esteem in a pool party when the girl's hand stroked the folded-in collar of his black blazer.

The dark room spun like a top and torrents of floaters covered his eyes for a moment when she gracefully positioned herself on his lap. And so it began. The bed let out a thorny cry, succumbing to the hostility that had conquered their starving bodies. Shayan had tried to ease into their classless act, but had been ordered by her he unleash his viciousness. Once he had her pinned under him, he did every unspeakable thing he had imagined he would. And she let him. That night a lonely virgin was having his way with a cover girl.

After nearly an hour of ravaging one another and a gnarly pre-ejaculation, Shayan was ready to invade her for the first time. He asked for her help, expecting her to guide his manhood, instead she pulled his arms to her waist and her smooth, sweaty body flipped over in between them. Shayan felt her sweat caress his forearms as he held her by her gut. He took his time finding his aim, in darkness, and in that position. Once successful, he rested his hairless chin on the back of her neck as the immodest deed began. The woman quietly endured his untamed thrusts. She lay there, still as dead until the stranger on top of her had been satiated.

Her partner was lost in the divine motion of sex, almost ignoring the soft, fitful sobbing that came from underneath him. No, he had heard it. But the out-worldly warmth between his legs had intoxicated him. The sobbing got louder as he got closer to his second for the night. And then suddenly, like the form of a bird on an orchid that once seen can never be unseen, Shayan was stunned out of his bliss. He asked her what was wrong, still not pulling out of her. ''Keep going'' came as a response, her face still on the pillow. So he tried. But his stiffness had betrayed him. He had made a woman cry in his maiden attempt. He kept trying. It just didn't happen.

He left her alluring body and lied down beside her, straightening his knees. ''Please leave'' she said. He asked her again what had happened. She ignored him. ''I'll text you'' she replied in a low voice. Shayan laid there for several minutes, hoping she would talk. His senseless brain slowly inscribed the various places in his body that stung; his left earlobe, his shoulders, his upper lip, and the unspent organs beneath his crestfallen virility. He needed light to find his clothes.

''Can I turn the lights on?'' He asked.

She didn't retort. And the next moment the night lamp on his side of the bed lit up. He saw her. Finally. He was stunned. He knew that scandalous image of her naked body wasn't going to leave his mind, ever.

Once out of her bedroom he realized how well-endowed must she be to afford a place like that. In the ever raging population boom in a metro like Mumbai, it would take Shayan's three months' salary to rent its garage. The thought worsened his sore heart. As if the mortification from ten minutes ago wasn't enough, his stingy financial state at the age of twenty seven made him feel like a coccyx. He traced his unruly mind out of that broken place. For now he wanted to leave for home and finish what he couldn't before.