Chapter 14: Love Sex Aur Dhokha

"Babuji, yeh kya kar rahe ho?"

"Dekh raha hoon teri choli ke peeche kya hai." He continued to unhook her blouse from the front as she lay on the bed. Her breasts sprung free as he got the last hook undone; she wore no bra. He squeezed them lightly; the skin was soft to his touch. He ran his thumb over the hardening nipples.

"Nahin, please don't."

"Chup. Let me do what I want. One more word I'll call the police and they'll throw you in jail for stealing."

He put his mouth to the right breast, rolling his tongue on her dark brown nipple, squeezing the other.

"Oh, babuji," she moaned.

He moved his mouth to the other breast, his thumb and forefinger continuing to play with the nipple of her right breast. Her body arched in response.

"You like it?" he asked, taking his mouth off her nipple.

"Acha lagta hai. But"

He didn't let her finish. He moved his hand up her leg. She was naked beneath the long skirt that she wore.

"Nahin, not there."

"You want it too. Don't lie."

"My mother will kill me. She said never to let a man touch me there."

"Chup. Kuch nahin hoga."

"Oh, babuji," she moaned again as she felt his fingertip.

He was hard now, straining in his trousers. With a hand still between her legs pleasing her, he unhooked his trousers and peeled them off. He took her hand and placed it on him. Her palm instinctively gripped his hardness.

In a swift moment, he was on top of her, poised to enter her, as she lay there, her long skirt bunched up at her waist, her blouse open.

"Nahin. Please don't do this."

With a sharp thrust, he was deep inside her.

"Babuji!" she screamed.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, as he moved on her in rapid hard strokes.

"Ab kaisa lag raha hai?" He asked her, looking at her flushed face beneath him, easing the pace.

"Bahut acha. I like this new khel," she said, breathless, her hands clutching the white sheet on her sides.

He increased the pace again and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted with passion.

He stopped.

"Why did you stop?" There was urgency in her voice. Her hands were on his shoulders, urging him on.

"You said you didn't want it"

"I want it now. Please don't stop. Bahut acha lag raha hai," she begged.

He felt her twitching around him and put his hands back on her breasts. He started pumping into her again, with frenzy.

She came almost immediately, with a shudder and tightened her legs tight around him, "Oh, babuji," she sighed. She looked beautiful in the moment of culmination, her face alight with fulfillment. He kissed her earlobe.

He thrust into her hard and fast, looking at her face. It was such a turn on. Within a few strokes, he crashed into her, letting go.

He lay like that for a few moments, catching his breath, his heart pounding.

He made to roll off her, but she held him, wanting him to continue lying on top of her. When he finally rolled off her, he lay by her side, sprawled on the bed.

Sameer.

In a hotel room.

In Hyderabad.

With Ritu.

He had to visit the Stonewell plant in the city and she had come along.

She had been the maid today, caught stealing, and he had blackmailed her into having sex with him.

There wasn't a role-play they hadn't tried. She had been the strict nurse who punished the patient looking down her blouse, the errant student willing to go any length to please her teacher, the bawdy street hooker who took money before she spread her legs. Some of these had been his fantasies, some hers. But she really got in-character playing them.

The problem was - she stayed in-character afterwards.

Like now.

She turned towards him, sliding under the sheets and smiled, "Kaisa laga babuji?"

However, exciting her calling him 'babuji' may have been in throes of passion, it seemed ridiculous after.

"Aaj Charminar chalein?" She was propped on her arm and looked at him, her breasts visible under the slipping sheet. The sliding glass door to the balcony was open and the sheer curtains danced in the breeze.

The ITC Kakatiya room room had been done in red and gold. Red cushions on the gold fabric of the couch, a striped red and gold duvet folded neatly in thirds at the foot of the bed. Curtains of the same color drawn apart.

"Why?" He was perfectly comfortable in the luxury of the hotel room. Under the cool white sheets of the soft bed.

"Arey bhai, we are in Hyderabad!"

A little later, they stood admiring the magnificent lime stone and granite structure. Each of the four minarets, that give the place its name, had a bulbous dome and carving of petals and leaves on them. Climbing to the upper floor, they watched the bustle of the city, leaning against the cool walls, as the sun bid adieu for the day. The legend had it that the mosque was built on the exact spot where Qutb Shah first saw Bhagmati, his future queen. Admiration of kings for their women had certainly contributed to the architectural heritage of this country.

They wandered through the crowded street of Laad Bazaar amid the sales pitches of the shop owners and honking of motorcycles. He'd never seen so many bangles in his life glass, lacquer, metal, plastic embroidered, with mirrors, semi-precious stones. Floor to ceiling shelves of hundreds of thousands. Colors all around, bursting, flowing, dazzling. Ritu took delight in the treasures the shops held. She had already bought more bangles than she could wear in her lifetime. "For friends," she explained.

She walked ahead and he lost sight of her. He bumped into a burqa clad woman and apologized. A scooter beeped behind him and he scampered aside to make way for it. He found her fingering a pearl necklace, the salesperson insisted was asli. Bangles on her wrists, bindi on forehead, wearing a blue churidar with matching sandals, Ritu looked radiant.

She smiled at him, when he caught up, bags in hand. "What do you think?"

"It looks real," he said, not wanting to offend the salesperson who was sizing him up.

She bought things on impulse. She bought a miniature charminar, a couple of sea shell boxes and a kalamkari painting.

As she paid up, he marveled at her ability to be completely with him when they were together. He envied her that freedom. He wasn't able to do the same. When he was with her, a part of him remained with Kavita and the girls. He couldn't shrug it off; guilt traced him wherever he went.

"Chalein waapis? I'm hungry," he said.

"Let's eat someplace else. I'm bored with hotel food," Ritu said.

He liked to eat with her. She ate like a man, enjoyed her food without inhibition.

"Here?" He wasn't sure if there would be a decent restaurant nearby.

She asked the shopkeeper and after a brief consultation with two other men in the shop, he recommended a place a block ahead.

Mehran was on the first floor of a ramshackle building. A boy's face was painted beside the green on white sign. The child's tongue protruded from the corner of his mouth Amul girl style. He walked through the door with some apprehension. It seemed clean enough though. The aroma of the barbequed meat made him hungrier. A few of the tables were occupied, with some serious silent eating going on. Either those guys were hungry or the food was special.

They sat near a window, watching the teeming market below. Even her faint reflection in the glass looked beautiful. He looked for his and found it split into two because of a grid between the panes. A teenaged boy came to take their order.

"Menu?" Sameer asked.

"Hum batate hain na sahib."

The boy took a breath and rattled off, without a pause, "Chicken tandoori, chicken afghani, reshmi kebab, chicken tikka, tangri kebab, chicken curry, chicken biryani, mutton seekh, mutton tikka, mutton curry, mutton biryani, special Hyderabadi biryani"

They looked at each other and smiled at the human menu in front of them. Looking around at what other people were eating, they ordered lamb seekh kebabs and special Hyderabadi biryani. Their young friend seemed to approve of their choice.

When the food arrived, it did not look particularly appetizing. The kebabs seemed overdone, the biryani greasy. He tore a piece of kebab and put into his mouth, and was hit by a profusion of flavors. The minced lamb, the garlic, the yoghurt, the smokiness of the grill. He closed his eyes, as he chewed. She looked at him and smiled. "That good?"

He smiled in contentment.

"It's like you are having a food orgasm."

"Maybe I am."