Hey folks! I attempted a romance story after ages. It’s quite a lengthy sensual romance but hope you take time to read and comment.
Golden tresses of romance & love
The ferocious wind wafted through the atmosphere. He hushed his steps past the sea where the breeze stroked his face and skirted past the vehicles honking, cars, cabs, buses till he reached the pastry shop at the other end.
His heart pulped fast and ordered Misha’s favourite chocolate cake, bought red roses, chocolates and candles at the road stall. She is angry. He called her at midnight to wish her happy birthday and whatsapped but she didn’t pick up his call.
The crazy Mumbai traffic wracked his nerves. He held the birthday cake close to his chest like his own life, pretty much similar to the relations he would never to let go. The traffic came to a standstill and he hurriedly crossed the road. Suddenly, a car screeched. He lost his balance and the birthday cake, wrapped in a huge box jettisoned in the air and fell into pieces like snow flakes crashed by vehicles. A rumbling sound was heard. His body ballooned in the air like the force propelled him to stumbled on a moving car with a violent force and landed on the tarred road.
Blood dripped on his head. The cars stopped to a screeching halt and a crowd gathered. He was in a semi-conscious state, feebly took her name, ‘Misha…Happy Birthday.’ He collapsed. He was ushered inside the back of a car and admitted to Bombay Hospital in a semi-comatose state.
His eyes blinked, vaguely transported to one year back in time inside the coffee shop at Dadar not far away from Shivaji Park. A tall girl in white skirt and blue denim, sat on the stool near the bar, eyes drenched in her note, scribbling something. Her long gold tresses struck him. She smiled and said Hi out of courtesy. He ordered a cup of Capuccino.
Sahil! That’s his name. She must know that my name is cool. He took a sip of coffee and his eyes raced on the coolest way to introduce himself to the stranger girl. He slung his back pack and moved next to her, facing the bar. He pretended to work on his Ipad and turned around to face her. She fidgeted with her I-phone and intertwined her fingers in the hair tresses. She sat in a crouched position with her head fixing the table.
“Hey! I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” he attempted a long and boring one.
“Oh! “ She was distracted. “Pardon me, “She couldn’t hide the smile.
“I said Hi,” he said loudly.
“I greeted you,” she grinned amusingly.
“How can I be so rude to a beautiful girl, not returning her greeting?”
She was embarrassed at his sudden enthusiasm to floor her with compliments. A crazy dude, she thought. “Well! You did. Ding dong…knock knock when you ordered your Capucinno.”
Sahil protested, “No! No! I need to pay for being rude…”
Her jaws dropped, “Dude! Stop it. You are embarrassing me.”
“Can I buy you coffee, Miss…?”
“Misha. My name is Misha. And, you Mr Congeniality?”
“S for Sahil.”
“Coffee is a smart my way to flirt with someone, right.” Misha called out to the waiter, “Don’t charge him for the coffee.”
She walked out of the coffee shop to wade her way inside the hair parlour separated by the sliding door. All of a sudden, he bent on his knee, “Why would the waiter not charge me. Don’t break my heart like that M..isha. Hello! She stopped and looked at him.
“I love your gold tresses. Can I borrow them?”
Misha turned around, “No need, lover boy. I am a hair stylist and will do your horrible hair. Try this trick on someone else.”
She disappeared. Sahil walked to the waiter, “Hey, dude. Don’t listen to her. Just tell me, how much for the coffee.
The waiter mocked him, “Sir! We can’t take the money. Misha Ma’am owns this place…both the coffee shop and the hair parlour.”
Sahil didn’t know where to look and felt like being hit by a snippet in war zone. He scampered as his face bore a sheepish look, realizing that his joke backfired.
It was one evening when Sahil drove to Intercontinental Hotel past midnight for coffee. He enjoyed the stillness of the night and sat to work on his laptop in the coffee house and took occasional smoke break.
Sahil was busy replying to mails of clients based in United States and analyzing reports when he sensed a shadow, slinking on the chair opposite to him. He slowly perched his head upward when a soothing and sensual voice said, “Sahil! Treat me with coffee.”
An electric shock waves ran down his spine when he realized it was Misha. She winked at him and took pleasure to trouble him, “Poor guy. For sure, you wouldn’t forget our first meeting at my shop, right.” It took him a while to gulp down the whole thing. “I know what you must be thinking. I am getting pleasure in making you do twists and turn. Make sure, I am not following you. I just came to meet a friend when I saw you. Yes! I am getting orgasmic pleasure and getting a mental masturbation seeing you in shock. So, dude, what else do you do apart from proposing random girls in coffee shops during the first meeting?”
He furtively looked around and laughed. “I just can’t believe it.”
“You thought that you are the only one who can make silly pranks but my waiter pulled a fast one on you.”
“I am a project manager,” Sahil said.
The steaming coffee arrived on a tray with complimentary cookies. Sahil and Misha flirted shamelessly where the latter caressed her hand and she pressed her toes on his leg, running u and down.
He rolled his tongue, whistling with tweaking sound, “What’s happening right now? You are molesting me in broad night.”
“I wanna us be booked for indecency and handcuffed in the bed. Let’s be human. It’s recession time and let’s help the Indian economy and this hotel by booking a suite,” Misha winked.
She dragged him inside the room. Sahil’s hands were tied on the bed and she undressed herself, unzipped his jeans. Misha bit his ear, pressed his lip with passion, caressed his hairy chest, slid his hand after unbuttoning her skirt, inside her bra.
“Babe! I am starving. Untie me. Do a social service. After all, we are Karsevaks of love. Let’s get inside each other’s pants.”Misha let loose her cream trousers and undid her underpants.
“See! How you gaping at me? For your eyes only. Let’s take it slowly na. We’ve just me. I ain’t letting the key inside the door.”
She caressed him, pushing her mouth inside his. Sahil sat powerless and tied on the bed, cursed the handcuffs. “Babe! I gotta go.”
He smiled, “I’ll get my revenge, someday.”
“Well! Tomorrow 8 p.m at my coffee shop and parlour. You wanna steal my gold hair color and dare to come. A free treat.”
It was almost closing time when Sahil walked inside the hair parlour at Dadar. The monsoon and lightning struck. Sahil ordered coffee and waited for another hour. Misha walked past but ignored him. She whatsapped, “Let the waiters push off and walk past the door to find your seat.”
Shahil reclined on the black arm chair. Misha stood behind him and massaged his hair, running her fingers down his hair and stroked his lip, swaying seductively as he watched her movement, awed by her round body in the shining black short skirt.
“I will kill you tonight. “ She pressed his head in the large basin and he almost choked. Gold!, she asked.
“I wanna borrow you for the night, Misha. Stop haunting me.”
Misha pasted the color on his hair, smeared playfully on his chest. She stood within inch of Sahil when he upped his face and slowly moved his hand, held her face to smooch passionately.
“Dude! Are you superman? How did you do that in a sitting position?”
The light went off and Misha almost shrieked. He flashed the light from his cell phone and moved closer to her in the dark to kiss her on the lip, neck and slowly removed the string to unloose the button on her dress. “I don’t want to regret not making love to you in the dark.”
“Baby! When did I say, no. Take me for hire and let me see how potent you are on a reclining chair.”
Misha helped him undress her as they lay naked on the chair, moving to the sofa to devour each other ferociously. She caressed his faced with her long hair thrusting it in his direction and he pulled her towards him, cupping her breast and caressing them slowly before sucking to them.
She smiled seductively, “Mr is desperate to score.”
He caressed her legs, massaged her with full pressure as she twisted them open before they entered each other with bated breath and passion.
It was one evening when they watched the stars and gazed at the sky as he held her by the waist, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know Sahil. Our lives are like the tiny stars in the sky. I feel people meet for a reason in life and we met in the most untoward situation. Love is strange.” Sahil fished her cellphone from her pocket and was toggling with it.
She protested, “What the fuck are you doing, Sahil?” Misha tried to grab the phone away from him but he held on tightly to it and ran inside the kitchen. They rolled on the floor. Suddenly, the phone started to buzz. “Who is that? At this odd hour”, she asked.
Her voice concatenated and choked with emotion, arguing with the caller. Sahil could only hear why would I do that. Misha flung the phone on the floor and it broke into pieces. She sobbed. “You know what Sahil. You are such an asshole. You are fucked up in your mind. It’s my birthday tomorrow and you did that to me.”
He was taken aback, “What did I do?”
Misha shouted, “You have the gall to ask. You bloody call that bitch, Dad’s legitimate fuck and my step mom. You know she shouted at me. Just get out of the house and don’t wanna see your face ever again.
After all, Sahil had no choice to walk away but cursed himself for it eluded Misha that he dialled by accident when his fingers bumped on the unknown number.
Sahil lay motionless on the hospital bed and the tubes sprouted from his body to the machines, made him look like a lifeless robot. The machines beeped. Misha clutched to his hands tightly and tears stopped in her eyes. She mumbled something, “Please forgive me. Had I known, I wouldn’t be so stupid. Listen to my voice, Sahil. Borrow my gold tresses.”
A lady in her 50s gently touches Misha’s head. “Please speak to him, na. Make him understand we’ve made peace. Sahil! Look who is here. My step Mom. She told me they don’t make men like you anymore. You have no other choice but live for us.
Sahil blinked with tears in his eyes. Misha caresses his forehead. The young doctor walked inside the room and asked Misha, “Who is he to you?”
“He is my everything, Doctor.”
“Your love saved his life. The surgery is successful. He will take time to walk and talk but more than medical miracle, it’s love and emotional warmth that will make him stand on his feet to be back to normal.”
Misha sprang on her feet, “Doctor! I want to marry him right now in the hospital.”
The Doctor turned around and looked at her, “You sure.”
“Yes, doctor. I don’t want to lose him again.”
The tall doctor flashed his cell phone, “The reception. It’s Dr Bhaskar here. I need someone from the marriage bureau right now in the hospital. Yeah, you heard me right, inside Bombay Hospital. It’s love, Baba. We are doctors. We don’t just save lives but nurture love.”
A short man walked inside the hospital room with documents. Misha signed and together with the doctor, they slide the pen in Sahil’s hand to forcefully push his finger with force on the wedding document. Congratulations, everyone cheered. Misha sat on the bed and hugged her step mom, her hands pressed tightly inside Sahil’s palm.
Love and romance