Dirty Talking

I looked at my watch. It was 7:45 pm. I was on time, yet again. I took a seat at a table, knowing well no one is on time in India. I also knew I had a good half hour before my friends showed up.

I looked around as I made myself comfortable. It was a quaint chirpy place, unusually filled with couples. Some laughing, some looking into each other’s eyes. Some brushing each other’s fingers. I let out a cynical grunt as I removed my jacket and placed it over the chair. I wondered how many of them actually loved each other. Even if they did, how many of them stuck to one another. Love, commitment, relationships, it was all a sham these days. No one is crazy enough to surrender themselves to the real ecstasy of love. The temptations of body rule the weak people that we’ve become. And with these musings, I ordered myself a drink.

The train of thoughts immediately led me to an event that had happened a week ago. In many ways, it had become the source of my cynicism. It was about my colleague Aneesh, his ridiculously attractive wife, and my own inner demons.

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Aneesh was a friend of mine. Actually, more of a colleague. I didn’t like Aneesh much. But being co-founders of the production house we had started, I had to be friendly.

Aneesh was stupid and arrogant. The simplest of business discussions with him turned into ego battles, and work suffered. It was as though he was constantly trying to prove an impossible point to someone in the depths of his insecurity chasm.

However, I respected Aneesh for one thing. He was a devoted husband. And his wife, devoted to him. They were almost unbelievably committed towards each other. Together, they restored my faith in love and marriage. Until it all shattered last week.

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The shrill laugh of a girl brought me back to the surroundings. I looked around and the place was fuller. I asked for a repeat of the drink, and my mind slipped again into the occurrences of last week. I was at office finding some music references for a stupid project Aneesh had landed. We had become desperate for some business and had started taking up stupid mindless work. Aneesh was gone, probably looking for more such stupid work.

And then there was a knock at the door. It was a knock that should have been taken as a warning. It heralded the arrival of an angel who could bring out the devil in you. It was Aneesh’s wife.

She walked in happy and carefree. For some reason, she was wearing a silk saree today. Whatever the reason was, I thought I should have been grateful. For I had never seen a woman so beautiful until then. Shiny silky hair that fluttered with the slightest movement. Golden skin that seemed to glow from within. Sharp piercing eyes...meaty rose lips...prominent collar bones...firm breasts. She was just perfect; everything in proportion, everything prominent.

It took me a while to recover after I lay my eyes on her. It always took. Impulses made me feel I could stake everything just to spend a night with her, but I nipped them in the bud. She was happily married and I wanted happy marriages to flourish. Besides, she was my business partner’s wife.

She was on the phone, moving around the office, checking out artefacts and fidgeting with things. As she hung up, she approached me, chirpily saying, “Hey! How’s the work going? Cracked any million dollar deals?”

I laughed. And taking the chair beside me, she leaned forward to see what was on my screen. Giving up after a while, she slid back into her chair, browsing through her phone.

“What brings you here, today?” I asked.

“Ah, nothing. ’Was getting bored at home. Needed a break from my candles.”

“Oh, right, the candles! How’s the candle business doing?”

“It’s doing okay,” she said, her eyes glued to her phone, her feet fidgeting.

“And what’s with the saree?” I asked.

“Oh nothing, just wanted to feel sexy today,” she said nonchalantly, almost absent-mindedly.

I wanted to blurt out ‘But you look sexy every day, every waking hour!’ but stopped myself.

Her reply about feeling sexy, though, was a tad unexpected. Ignoring it, I went back to peering into the screen.

It was silent except for sudden bursts of my music references. We could hear the clock tick, I could hear her silken breath. Heck, I could almost feel it rush through my body and burst at my head which was trying hard to focus.

But the silence continued. And the clock ticking had become hammering in the awkwardness. It was too late to strike a conversation now. I just had to act cool and busy. But there was something unusual going on. ‘This wasn’t normal!’ I thought. Her breath seemed to be getting closer, her presence seemed to looming large over me. It was as though she was piercing the back of my head with her eyes.

I was getting restless and a strange feeling seemed to be gripping me as I fidgeted with the keyboard, and then, in a destructive impulse, I turned around and groped her firm rounded breast. In that very instant, I expected my world to come tumbling down. I gaped at her aghast, stunned and ashamed. But she didn’t flinch a bit. Nor did her eyes. They stared into mine. I breathed heavily, my confused eyes searching hers for my next move. And I hesitantly squeezed her breast one more time. Her eyes bore into mine, and then she smiled.

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The reverie was broken by a pat on my head. It was Shan. He hurriedly took his seat muttering intelligible things, but then became very articulate when he had to place his order. And in the right time to place his, came Suraj. Both seemed to be really eager to drink. After the customary exchange of our day’s events, Shan asked, “Is Aneesh coming as well?”

I nodded. “He was the one who wanted to catch up with us,” I added.

Shan mulled over this, saying “I wonder why.” And followed it with a strangely curious “And his wife? Is she coming too?”

I shrugged my ignorance regarding this. After a brief pause, Suraj added, “Well, one can only hope.”

And we all looked at each other a tad unsure, and broke into a guilty awkward laugh. We all seemed to know something. I hoped they didn’t know about me and her.

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We drank and ate, talking about this and that, but we knew we were all skirting the real topic. And it was just a matter of it being brought up.

“Aneesh, man! He’s one lucky chap,” started Shan. Ah! Finally it was being brought up.

“In what way?” I probed.

“Every way,” he responded. And after a sharp swig, continued “In every way. Work, lifestyle...a happy marriage. A loving wife. A beautiful loving wife.”

“Yeah...” I reflected. Shan was a guy who loved discussing beautiful women. And after a drink or two, he discussed them quite irresponsibly. It was only the beginning.

“But he might not be all that lucky,” Shan continued, contradicting himself.

“As in?” I dug deeper.

“I mean...I’m hearing things.”

“What things?” Suraj asked, leaning in.

“Nevermind,” Shan turned away looking to get the waiter’s attention.

“Ah, c’mon!” Suraj protested. “You can’t bring it up and then retract. Out with it, now. Tell us.”

After building the necessary anticipation, Shan began. “Well, she’s not what she seems like. She’s sleeping around.”

“What?” Suraj exclaimed, almost with an uncomfortable smile.

I too showed some surprise, nervous and hopeful that I won’t be featured here.

Shan nodded to affirm his point. “Yes, she is. I have trusted sources telling me things."

Suraj gulped down whatever remained of his drink, and quickly shouted out for another. And then rubbing his hands, leaned forward, and said “Tell us. What things?”

I too nod and take a big draught, all ears.

“Well...you know Arvind? He spotted her getting cozy with our Mumbai client.”

We all looked incredulous.

I tried to play the devil’s advocate. “That could be a rumour. Arvind is a rather horny bugger.”

“Okay, Raman told me he also did her. Raman wouldn’t lie. He shows off, alright. But he won’t lie.”

"Raman did her?” Suraj asked skeptically, his eyes big as balloons.

“Yes. He did her. And described it to me in great detail. The bugger was showing off. And besides, doing her is worth showing off. I loved every bit of it. I mean, his details.”

Suraj reclined, folding his arms, and protested. “Dude, stop creating unnecessary drama, and out with the details.” He leaned forward again, and almost shaking with excitement, added, “All of it.”

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“Okay,” Shan continued. “So Aneesh was in Mumbai at that time. And Raman gets a call from his wife enquiring when he’s back. Our Raman says tomorrow. And then she’s like ‘I’ve locked myself out of the house. So can I crash at your place?’ Raman was shocked out of his fucking wits, man! This was random. But he’s like okay.”

“And?” I asked.

“And they do it. She inspects his house, and looks at him and says directly, to his face ‘You have a nice house. I want you to fuck me on the couch, the staircase, the bathroom and the dining table.’

“What?” Both Suraj and I gaped spell-bound.

“Yes. And Raman, the lucky chap, obliged,” and Shan broke into a laugh.

Continuing he said, “Raman also said she’s the best fuck he’s ever had. He apparently pounded her doggy-style everywhere. He says her ass can make you cum twice in one go.”

We all let out an incredulous laughter. This was all seeming too surreal.

One more round of drinks were called for, and we were all pretty high already. Our mouths were loosening, our emotions wavering, our truths spilling.

“Okay, I have a confession to make,” Shan declared.

“I did her too.”

A combined gasp shook the table. “What?”

“Yes, I did the bitch too. And I’ll tell you all about it. But first, lemme down this whiskey.”

And after gulping down half a glass in one go, he started.

“So, about three weeks ago, I get a random call from her. She said Aneesh was kinda busy. And she wanted to go to the tailor to give measurements. But she wasn’t feeling too well, so she asked if I could do her a favour and give the tailor her measurements. I was like ‘this is too random.’ But the randomness didn’t leave me any excuses. And besides, I thought I’ll have to just deliver the measurements.”

We waited with bated breath, half expecting what was going to come.

Continuing, Shan said, “What I didn’t know was I would have to take the measurements! And measurements, my friends...what beautiful measurements! I remember them even now.”

“Details please,” Suraj insisted.

“So the moment I land there, she takes me to her room and hands me over the tape. I stand there clueless, and she points at her arm and says ‘from here till here.’ I do that. And note it down on my cell. Then she points at her neck. I do it for the neck. Then her shoulders. Then waist. Then the hips.”

We gulped the lumps in our throats, and Shan the remainder of his drink. He continued.

“And...” looking at us from one to another for a dramatic effect, “then her boobies.”

Now getting a bit animated in his narration, Shan continued, “So as the tape is around her boobs, she says ‘Pull tighter. I like it a bit squeezed.’ And I look into her eyes, my breath heavy as a boulder. I gave up, man. I squeeze her tits and try to kiss her. She stops me, and says, ‘Later. First, measurements.’”

And then, this wild wild bitch makes me measure the most obscure of things. It was foreplay, boys, I tell you. The best you’ll ever come across. The tension is built so much, that you just want to pound her already. But you can’t. And that’s what makes it fun.”

We nodded. And I asked, “What other obscure measurements?”

“Oh, yes,” he said and removed his phone. And going to the measurement file, he started to read out ceremoniously.

“Measurements of thighs...butt...butt cheeks. Each of it, mind you. They vary by a few centimetres. Each of the boobs. Nipples...toes...fingers...lips...ears...her ass crack! Er...her pussy...all of course with the clothes on.

“Hmmm. And then?” I asked stunned beyond wits.

“Then what. I’d had enough. I just turned her around. Thrust her against the wall. Pressed her head against it, and rammed her. I came in like a minute. But I wasn’t done. So I picked her up and flung her on the bed. Throughout, the bitch had a smile. She’s kinky in a weird way I tell you. And then I just squeezed her all over. Against myself. I must have eaten her pussy for probably half an hour. And then when my rod was firm again, I turned her over. Pulled her hair back like reins in my hand and rode her ass doggy style, brothers! I still remember the intensity of my thrusts. They were hard. Trust me, I’ve never pounded anyone so good in my life. It was one of those insanely long poundings you see in porn.”

There was a reflective pause. As we mulled, Shan said, fingering the rim of his glass, “But she just asked me to leave, thereafter. I tried to make some conversation, but she didn’t utter a word. There seemed to be a purpose to all of this. A backstory I’m sure. I’m sure Aneesh is being an asshole with her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure too,” Suraj added. And instantly looked up to us to see if he had spilt the beans.

He had.

--------------

We looked at him, our eyes interrogating. He shuffled in his chair, muttering inane words in between ’er’s and ’ummm’s

“Okay, I did her too,” he admitted.

We just sat back in our chairs, shaking our heads in denial. This was all going too unreal to be true. But we knew this was the truth, and leaned forward again.

The place was now packed and buzzing with an air conducive to scandals and conspiracies. And Suraj began as he downed his glass.

“So this was the at the production house’s First Anniversary party. You know how stunning she was looking that day, right?”

“Ah, of course I do. That green short dress. Backless...” and Shan smiled as he pictured her with pleasure in the eye of his mind.

“Yeah, so, it was weird,” Suraj continued. “Throughout the party, she just kept running into me. I mean, no conversations. What’s there to talk, after all. She’s my boss’s wife. But running into me as in butting into my conversations with others. And she would just stand right in front of me. Not even face me. Just against me. Her ass rubbing against my crotch.”

At first, I thought it was accidental, but no. She would, every five minutes, show up in front of me and thrust her ass into my crotch and walk away. Sometimes she would even drop something and bend over.”

And then I started touching her whenever she did this. At first, I too started thrusting my crotch when she did her act. Then I started pinching her. And then as this game progressed...”

“Game!” Shan interrupted. “Yes, she makes it an interesting game. A game where the tension and anticipation build at every level. And that’s what makes the final fuck so memorable. She’s too good at it. Okay, sorry for the digression. Please continue.”

Continuing, Suraj said “Yeah, so, then I started squeezing her tits. Slap her ass, pinch her nipples. She would grind me subtly. Many times, we did this while Aneesh was with us in the conversation!

“Such a bitch!” Shan remarked.

Suraj resumed, “This went on for over one hour, and trust me...I was going mad! I just had to do her now. I sneaked near the washroom then, and waited. And finally she came. And I just grabbed her and started dry humping her. But then someone came. And we scooted.”

Next I caught her near the kitchen and one more dry hump. I had already cummed in my pants by now.”

So then, I took it easy for an hour. Just sitting and leching at her. Following her movements. It was mad, this entire thing. It just grips you and you have to do her. You just have to nail her and nail her good. So I just waited. And then I spotted her go near the mound. Near the fountain, remember?”

Shan and I nodded with a smile, our mouths full of food, our hearts filled with lust.

“So I quickly go round it and catch her alone. I grab her pussy and try to drag her behind the mound. She resists. I look at her with pleading eyes, and hers scan mine. I think she saw in them that she’d won and she obliged.”

“Well put, my friend. She’s made a poet of you,” remarked Shan.

I smiled a knowing smile.

“Then I just thrust her against the mound and rammed her. God, her skin, her boobs, her ass, her lips. Everything about her is divine. Dude, people were just an ear shot way, at the other side. But I didn’t care if anyone heard us or saw us. I didn’t care even if Aneesh saw me fucking his wife. I would have fucked her and fucked her good. That’s the kind of state she drove me into. She’s danger, my friends. She’ll make you risk everything you got, in a night. I think it’s best to avoid her. Especially you, Jayanth. Stay away.”

“It’s too late now,” I replied, sipping at my drink.

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Another wave of shock swept us. But then today, nothing could be impossible.

And softly, Shan asked, “How and when?”

I told them all about how she had dropped by at the office and I had groped her impulsively. Then I continued the story.

“As you guys know, it’s not as easy as just banging her. You have to play a game, right? And she made me play a game. A game that makes me breathe in humiliation and makes me shudder.”

The others sensed that this was more serious. They leaned forward, tense and a tad worried.

“So there we were, in Aneesh’s cabin. And I fondle her tits and grab her ass, and you know, general lovemaking...when she stops me. I look at her and try to kiss her again. And she stops me again.”

And then she announces, ’Let’s play a game, Jayanth. The game is simple. You have to earnyour fuck. You can fuck me, only if you pin me down on the ground. I will resist. Oh resist, I will! But you have to pin me down. And then you can pound me for all your cock’s worth.′ I let out a confused laughter. I look around, and say ‘Are you sure?’ She nods.”

By now I was in her grip. Her breath, her oomph...I was trapped, boys. I quickly go out and ask Naveen and Ritu to leave. Raghu hadn’t come to office that day. I come back in and close the door. And there she was. Sitting on Aneesh’s desk, grinning and swinging her feet. Her saree was loose and all over the place, and with every step I took towards her, something in me was saying ‘Run away!’”

So I try to kiss her and she pushes me away hard. I try it again. And the same result. I try to grab her boobs and she yanks away my hands. I tell her that I don’t feel right about this. And she gets down from the desk and starts to walk away saying ‘Then you can’t fuck me. Simple as that.’”

Before she’s reached the door, I slam it shut. I couldn’t not fuck her now. So gingerly I step ahead and try to make a soft move and she pushes me away. I try a bit harder and she pushes me away harder. I try to grab her and she slips away. I try it again and she flings things on me and runs around. I chase her, try to grab her, pick her up, and she resists. She starts screaming now. So I yank her head behind, stuff her mouth with her saree pallu. I lift her and try pinning her down, and she starts kicking wildly. It was too late now. I was too deep into the game and had to earn my fuck. She runs here and there and I dodge things, grab her, pull her, lift her. Finally after a good twenty minutes or so I pin her down, stuffing the saree in her mouth deeper and tearing open her blouse. I squeeze her tits and at the same time try to hold her kicking legs. And then I unzip and pound her. She is calm now and I remove the saree from her mouth...and I finish up.”

There was stunned silence at the table. And the other two peered at me, worried.

I ended the story with one last detail. “And then she just picks her things up and leaves. Before leaving, she turns around and says, ‘Well done, my tiger! You earned your fuck.’”

--------------

The mood at the table was different now. It was serious and awkward. No one knew what to say. And everyone knew that hereon, every word had to be measured, and every conversation treaded with caution.

I broke away and looked around at the place. The din, the clinking of glasses, clanking of cutlery, a sudden burst of laughter here. A heated political debate there. Everyone looked normal, sharing their usual day-to-day things. How I wished I had only normal things to worry about. Or were they all too not facing normal problems? Were they too trying hard to bury their real demons...deep in the dungeons of normalcy? My thoughts were again beginning to gravitate towards what I’d buried in my dungeon...when a familiar voice brought me back out of it.

It was Aneesh. We all faked excitement at seeing him. And made some small talk. And then Aneesh announced “Okay, guys, I have some great news to share. I’m going to be a dad soon!”

We tried our best to make our elation sound as less fake and worrisome as possible. In truth, it just opened up a new labyrinth of unwanted possibilities.

Shan, Suraj and I stole glances at each other, trying to converse and validate with our eyes.

Expensive scotch was brought to the table, accompanied with plenty of food. Aneesh was in a mood to celebrate. As the waiter made the table, Suraj timidly asked Aneesh, “So, were you guys planning the baby?”

“Nah, not really. Kind of unplanned. But what the heck! I’m happy. And let’s drink to that!” And Aneesh raised his glass.

We all raised ours, saying “To Aneesh. And his family.”

As I had a sip and brought my glass down, my phone beeped. I looked at it and froze. Panic gripped me and my head spun.

It was Aneesh’s wife. Her message read:

Hey, congrats! You’re a dad now. I’ll soon have a rape baby. See you in court.

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