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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 8

The cab screeched in front of the gate at Hari Om apartments in South Bombay. It was unusually dark everywhere. The lights went off and the building wore a haunted look. They slid past the metal gate. The bored guard was slouching and slumbering on the plastic chair didn’t give a damn who entered and exit the building. He plainly told them it was a complete black out.

Geet and Hardik silently trudged the stairs towards the 12th floor as they gasped for breath. The light flashing on the mobile phone guided them towards the apartment as they stopped in front of the door, spotting the ceramic flower pot. Both lifted the flower pot with force, sieving through, moving it angularly left and right, before the key smothered in mud landed on the floor. The door opened after twisting like a coke cap.

Geet trotted quickly inside to close the door on Hardik’s face. He banged the door. There was silence inside the house and she didn’t reply to his plea for seconds and minutes. “What are you up and would you open the door.” His phone beeped, “You gatecrashed. It’s your punishment. Sit in the dark for some time.”

The light miraculously came after one hour. Hardik felt weak and depleted of energy, spreading his long legs plonked on the stairs. A noise distracted him. The tired man dashed and pushed his shoulder, flinging inside just in time as the door flapped and shut behind him. The speck clean ceramic floor in the hall shone with a pair of earring lying on the floor. 

He picked it and traipsed inside, “Geet, what game are you playing?” A pink envelope was splayed on the floor. He slid it open with the lip gloss scribbled in red, “Somebody…somebody waiting for U with the night’s secret!” and walked to the kitchen, greeted by shiny red socks on the floor. The eyes squinted at the scented envelope, “Pick it up.”

There was no movement. He waded inside the room and wall graffiti stared at him, “The end is near. Enter the labyrinth.” A chill flew like an electric wave down his spine and Hardik almost tripped on a white skirt and blouse, picking them up one by one, wading inside another room with fluorescent black bra scattered on the floor. He walked past the sliding door jutted across the balcony, giving an aerial view of South Bombay.

Red handkerchief fluttered on the metal rail. He inched close towards the balcony and pressed his body to the wall, head bent towards the ground, wondering whether she jumped. He felt dizzy when a dim, red light shone brightly on his face. Red handkerchief wrapped on his palm and holding bra, earring, female underwear and socks in all colors adorned on the neck as if he was wearing a tie, unaware of a huge room hidden from the inside and spotted from the balcony.

He felt a windy storm stroking his back and quivered, sending a chill running with spasm down his spine. He trotted inside and frantic heartbeat led him into the spacious room, fading light flashed on the spacious bed, curled hair cut and splayed on the white mattress. A thin and toned bare back turned with hands on the wall as if posing for the paparazzi. 

Hardik was frantic, admiring the curled hair falling slightly on the neck. She simpered naked in a seductive movement and slowly turned her face towards him. He couldn’t muster the courage to look into the famished eyes. She flicked her leg on the male chest and pushing him on the bed. She leaned on him and stroking his hair and face smeared on his cheek and moving her lip gently on his mouth. “Don’t say anything. The night is glittering with bridled sensuality, not just me and you.” He couldn’t speak and voice choked at this hidden side of Geet. She laughed, “It’s not just you who needs everything. I desire everything about the male body.”

Red lacquered fingers scratching his chest with force, tearing his shirt button. Faces and lips cupped, smearing his cheek and nose, she twirled her leg on his stomach. The shocked man couldn’t budge. Her voice growled and bewitching into his ears, “You are jailed now. Look around.” Pierced voice and witch-like sensation sent chill, she moved her naked body slowly. He tossed his head around, seeing colourful display of sex toys in white, pink, red and yellow displayed on the wooden table.

He felt a pair of hands opening his belt and unbuttoning his denim. “Not feeling anything,” she teased. “Count one, two and three, breathe. You are in for surgery. Just lie. Relax. Breathe in and out. Her hand slowly massaged into his thing, fingers ran deep inside and smeared ointment, a, pressing hard on the top. He squelched with pain and passion, muttering with difficulty, “I never knew this side of you.”

She moved up and rolled her tongue licking on his chest with speed, slipping beneath. It felt ecstatic. She moaned and caressing him inside. Hardik wanted it to end and biting his lip, suppressing pain. Geet was a wounded tigress. Both were lying naked. She was bold, exploring zone where no woman not even herself has ever gone with a man, breaking away from shame and shackles.

“Love sucks,” she moved her lip. What’s sex without fun and off-limits on our date? Cheerz to our time and my time.” Her boob brushed his chest, accompanying the trembling fingers exploring and holding, pressing into her nipples. She was in the driver’s seat. He was the servant. They changed position. He bit and sucked into her nipples.

“I could have sex with anyone and you everyone,” she laughed. She pulled him off the bed and placed his hands on her bosom, turning into circle and jettisoning towards the wall. She pulled herself, with gravitational force. He went ahead and pressed on her, moving lips sucking into her ears and hands holding her waist, caressing her boobs with intensity. She moaned with pleasure. He bent down, licked her back, slow caress and massage running deep from top to toe. I want more. 

Geet repeated one, two, and thrice. She pulled him to the bed and caressing the edge of the zones, running her fingers deep inside him. She lay strewn like flowers on the bed, opening her legs, spoke in a calm demeanor and voice stirred, losing her breath, “Finger me. Don’t stop.”

“What,?” he asked. He couldn’t wait to get inside her. “Baby, you have competition. Who is better your fingers or the sex toys?” He bent and licked her vagina, running his tongue inside gently and reaching intensity. Fingers traced a circled line around, repeating the movement with palm pressing around the flesh. Geet moved and tossed her head in a circle. She was already in love with him and knew he was the one. She breathed and moaned. 

 He licked her and pressed his fingers inside. “Don’t stop…please I beg of you.” She moved her flawless skin, hugging him and winked thinking, “The last time to trouble him today.” The corner of her eyes saw something shining and she felt something was under the mattress. It was the duplicate key.
She moved away from him. “I challenge you for the last time.” Plain and period. Geet’s face was blank and expressionless. “Prove what do you have in you.” He was flabbergasted and bemused, slowing returning to his normal state, losing the mojo of arousal and feeling his inside melting cold. The moment was lost.

Her eyes pointed at the window, “Jump. Take the lift when you come back,” flinging the house key on his face. He felt weak in his knee, “Are you fucking mad or what? Is this a prank! Are you fucking asking me to jump from the window? Babe, it’s on the 12th floor. You will be jailed for murder. Tu cheez hai kya.”

“I want to test whether you can fuck and hold me inside. What if I tell that we’re in love? Should I repeat, JUMP. Remember no jumping, no mad sex. I promise it will be not just desert but honeyed heaven. Baba! Kuch nahin hoga. Just see.” He could see the sun radiating in the water inside the swimming pool.

“Still it’s a big risk baba. Not one but running 12 floors jettisoned in the air. It’s no child’s play,” he protested.

“Jump gandu,” she sat naked and rolled a joint.
Hardik pulled his jeans. She snatched it away from him. “You are Hard Dick, live to your name and let it hang in the air. He was trembling, standing on the edge of the window’s sill. She thought he looked like superman in his blue underwear. “Ready! One two three,” she nudged him. The entire male body was shaking with legs and body engulfed by fear. She moved both palms with force.

 He jumped. The body oscillated into somersault movement, traversing windows and blocks with the speed of light, splashing into the huge swimming pool.


Work-in-progress, seeker, and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian!!!

4 thoughts on “Hot on Wheels: Chapter 8

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