Left Right Romance Chowk
Chapter 2: Naughty sprinkle of love, sweetness and pepper
The shiny red double-decker bus ambled slowly in the center of South Mumbai, looking like a lost child competing with the mighty and iconic, black-and-yellow cabs, powerful cars and commoners scrumming their way to jostle for space. The commoner bikers were in a frantic hurry as they screeched their way between buses and cars, right in front of St Xavier’s college where young boys and girls, dressed in modern and branded outfits stood outside the gate chatting, puffing a smoke and indulging in public display OF affection, caressing hair, holding their special someone by the waist and lips pecking to the tune of bees and flowers.
The Best bus swiveled at the traffic signal and halted right in front of Mumbai’s hip-and-happening and most glamorous college in the city. Sejal hopped down and carefully held her dupatta to prevent it from flowing into the pool of water. She sashayed past the college gate to disappear in the flitting seconds.
As she waded her way inside the sprawling campus, the boys upped their eyes to survey every single move that she made and shamelessly peered at her curvy body, perfectly sculpted round boob and bum. She feigned ignorance but was flattered at the same time. Some dudes whispered, “She’s the machine of hotness that whirs above our head and stops our hearts from doing dhak dhak. I’d prefer this machine to the coffee dispenser.”
She was unfazed by the eyes longing for a ‘hi’ and returned their smile with a large wry expression on her face. “Despo! They badly need a masturbation,” she told her herself. Sejal made furtive glances and finally zeroed on what she was looking for. The flawless hand was raised in fury as if she was going to sling at something. A strong jab was felt. A resounding bang and thud! She couldn’t conceal her smile.
He leaped to his feet and bellowed, turning his face towards the person who was standing right in front of him. “Kya re, hero,” she chuffed.
Mann was still moaning in pain and almost cursed her. She tittered, “Madarchod bolne ka mann ho raha hai (You feel like saying maderchod). Fulfill your vow, Mr Ashiq.”
“No, yaar. It’s your new way of greeting kya,” Mann hollered.
She hugged him tight and whispered, “Sorry.” He smiled. “I am not apologizing for now but the last time when you were told to fuck off from my house,” she placated him.
“The ganja was making me spin in the air and at the same moment, Mom had to shoot this message that she was landing in front of my door in five fucking minutes. Did I have a choice, baby?” She made dewy eyes expression. It melted his heart.
“You should never do that. You are a kid and just 18. I am elder than you,” he purred.
“Stop giving me this lovey-dovey expression and it’s making you sound feminine. Yes! You are elder to me by two months. A half baby cannot take form in the embryo in such a short time span…,” she casually remarked.
“At least you will not throw me out of your house. See! I can claim my age over you so that you fulfill all my wishes and desires,” he persisted.
“In that way, some 5 cm penis may just claim sheer horsepower to ride me but it doesn’t come with warranty or else viagra will go out of the market.” A triumphant and tart expression popped on her face. Mann went into a silent mode, not knowing what to make of it.
“I bet you will not have sex for a long time now. See how my words can hit the cock with force. At your own risk,” she chuckled gleefully. They walk together towards the class but made a u-turn. Their eyes nodded in agreement and scampered their way out of the campus.
The tea was boiling and steam curled from the huge tea pan and the plump man with his protruded belly expertly steered sugar, milk, water, and cardamom to heavenly bliss. The steam blew on the face of the man who wiped the sweat with his hand while the horde of men and women made a beeline with impatience for the morning tea.
Sejal grabbed a cup poured in the glass that touched the cusp of her lip. She loved the sensation when the steamy hot cup strokes her lip. She glugged her tea and order Mann in a sudden fit, “Now! Jaldi! Let’s run away from here. Just leave the glass. It’s not like it’s your last chai on the death bed.” She grabbed his hand and yanked the door of the taxi open, telling the driver, “Churchgate station, chalo.”
As the car steered to life, a tall and fair man in his 30s was staring at Sejal which didn’t escape Mann’s glare. She realized that he got wind of things. “You see, this guy is my ex-boyfriend and I saw him from a distance. This idiot couldn’t digest that I broke up with and been after me. Issliye! We are fleeing to a safe destination,” she said.
“Is he a stalker?” Mann’s face turned red.
“No! Man! He was looking for something more…some kind of commitment and marriage. Ek toh, I am ten years younger to him and it was just plain sex…I thought ki rumpy aur pumpy and we will bang and bingo…but no. Now, he’s after me.”
A tremor like sensation jolted Mann’s body and he tried to put a fake smile on his face. “Jealous,” she quipped. “Arre chill! See how scared you are?” Sejal cackled.
“Arre! Pyare! I cannot have sex with my sperm related sibling. He is my half blood brother that sprouted from Dad’s second marriage. I ran away from him because this old fox would dole out gyan lesson to me afterward.”
He exuded relief. “Who old fox?” he queried. “This brother of yours?”
“Nah! My Dad. His morale is like an ejaculation that fizzles before shaking the bottle…a bit like thumps up but doesn’t make any sense at all.”