A to Z Challenge: Salirophilia

The post S for Salirophilia (AC) is written as part of ‪#‎AtoZChallenge‬: Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. For those who came late, I am doing a novella on film star who lost his memory and is helped by a college girl to face his harsh reality. It’s  a grim and dark journey facing himself on how he conquer his demons to redeem himself. I promise high voltage entertainment and drama that will take your breath away. My funda: Some of the stories have no logic and leave your brains somewhere else if you wanna enjoy the stories:)

Going by the guideline of A to Z, I am putting Adult Content (AC) for today’s letter post since it’s a sensual romance.


It took me a while to recover from the burns at the hospital. Bhai Saab has been arrested and charged with children trafficking, underworld activities, and the mafia is on his heels. He made them suffer a lot financially. Meera has been charred to death. My crime is shrouded in cloud and blurred under the thick smoke of Bravery Award where the media terms me as Real Life Hero. I am honoured by every State Government , TV channels and film organisations.

It’s redemption. But, I wonder whether my conscience is clear. I was party to some crimes where young kids are dying with drugs every single day. The mafia has gone underground. But, I am sure that they will come for my skin and Bhai Saab won’t leave me in peace. Perhaps, it’s the time to run away from myself.

The joints and alcohol soothe my nerves. My eyes scan Sanjana Khan at the party where she is performing in my honor for bravery. I am already high on alcohol where I am enthralled on the new singing sensation in town who won singing competitions and crooning some of her favorite super hit songs in films.

She fixes me with intensity as we dance away during the night. Unabashedly, Sanjana hand slides inside my shirt and caressing my chest, biting my ear with her tongue. You cannot stay away from her. She has a magic, aura, and enigmatic quality. We’ve been spending nights in my apartment.

“I wanna eat you raw,” Sanjana winks.

“You are the experimental type. I like wild beasts a lot,” I am smitten by her charm.

She breaks into a cackle. “How a brave man that save children is getting knocked off his perch. Am I the culprit?

I caress her face with my fingers, intertwined in her hair. Her eyes are hiding something and I am powerless by the hot intensity exuded by her. I am carried away and besotted by her charm and sexiness. She is a myth, perhaps.

Sanjana removes her sandals and pulls off her dress, presses her legs on my chest and tears apart my white shirt.  “The dirty game starts now,” she seductively laughs. “Salirophilia.”

I am losing my balance and feel overpowered, emasculated. “Oh! Yes! Salirophilia.”

We dirty ourselves, smearing our faces and naked bodies with dry colors and sprouting mud by rubbing each other in unchartered zones. We dirty our hair with her fancy makeup and beggars would look better than us. It’s a fetish we wanna do since a long time.

We roar with passion and smack each other fighting to dip our legs in the mud basket placed in the room before getting into the act. “It’s called the Salirophilia special,” she seductively sways her hip when she pours the concocted drink into my mouth. It’s sweet as hell.

Oh! Gosh! She fakes a smile and her naked body is growing tense. “Baby!! Our Salirophilia is making me forget that I have to perform at a show in an hour”.  She pulls her red skirt in the rush and bends on the bed, tasting the corners of my lip with her tongue before disappearing.

I am in a trance with the Salirophlia Special Drink reaching the altar of my spirit. My body is dirty, smeared with colors, mud and sand. Something is scripted on the patch of dirt on my chest. It skips my mind for I am high on this drug, Sanjana.

Postscript: The word Salirophilia refers to people who have this fetish of getting dirty during sex by smearing makeup, messing hair up or ripping clothing. Instead of showering before sex…Try it at home at your own risk, my tiny warning.






  1. Pingback: A2Z Reflection: Tale of a survivor | Vishal Bheeroo

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