The Last Lust

Episode One

“How much do you charge for a night?”

She looked up, distraught at the question. The room, a small ten by ten cell, with a single, chipped, wooden table, was getting stuffier as the lady before her lighted another cigarette and let out a thick smoke.

Reena did not answer, and frantically continued to dial the number on the old style, rotating dial, black telephone. The call did not go through; she placed the receiver back on the cradle with a force, and looked up at the burly woman pacing in front of the table, puffing away a Gold Flake.

“Kyun, tera yaar nahin mila?” the lady asked, dropping the ash on the ground, her raspy voice cutting through Reena. The lady, wearing a plain khaki gruff sari, stopped in her track and faced her squarely.

Instinctively, Reena cringed, seeing the cold large eyes, with a faint streak of redness around the iris and a dark, perceptible spot on the whites of the eyes. “I will give you one more chance to call! And then…”

Reena shivered at the threat; her hands and feet felt cold.

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Hurriedly eyeing the books to check the correct ones, she dumped them into the bag, and started for the dining table, picking up her pen lying carelessly on the side drawer, along the phonebook; reaching the table, she picked up the glass of milk, and started to gulp it down, and from the corner of the eyes noticed her grandmother, sitting across the table on knitting a sweater, her eyes covered with thick frame of glasses. The room, adjacent to the lush drawing room was tastefully decorated with the large glass topped dining table taking up most of the space; a marble statue with a lamp at the top stood majestically in the corner, next to the side drawer that boastfully displayed some expensive crockery through its branded glass exterior. Just beyond the room was the hallway, across which was the kitchen, from which she could hear the clutter of utensils as her mother prepared the lunch for all before leaving for her own office.

Stopping midway to take her breath, she observed the grandmother peering closely at a wrong stitch that she had obviously made. Reena shook her head; she never knew why her grandmother would always knit, when no in the family was interested in wearing her handmade sweaters…certainly not in an age of Monte Carlos, she thought! And it irritated her for no comprehensive reason that in the rush hours of the morning, the old lady was the only one who sat quietly doing nothing, and knitting away for no rhyme nor reason!

“Ma…I am leaving, and will back a little late!” she called out to her mother, “You just take care of packing papa’s blue checked shirt; he looks nice in that!”

“Fine, beta!” called out her mother, “And you don’t trouble dadi by coming late; we shall call you when we reach Hyderabad”

She finished the milk in the second huge gulp, and noticed her grandmother admonishingly looking at her…no, she realized that the old lady was looking at the small white chiffon top of hers, which had got raised as she drank the last drops of the milk, by holding the glass up; the midriff was more widely displayed.

A cold stare was exchanged; Reena placed the glass.

“Ok Ma…happy journey and enjoy yourself! I am late!” she quickly called out, and started for the drawing room, through which led the door to the outside.

“Thank you, beta…even I am late today!” she heard her mother speak out, as another utensil got dropped irritatingly into the wash-basin.

Reena picked up the bag, and as her routine, walked past the table, to her grandmother, and cursorily bent down to touch her feet; it was a routine, and she did it with the same enthusiasm as one would do any other daily chore; normally, her hands never went beyond the knees.

“Those boys…be careful” the old lady said, placing the half-knit sweater on the table, and raising her hands to bless her. Her wrinkled, rubbery face, with eyes sunken and hidden behind hideously large black rimmed glasses, looked worried.

Reena froze in mid-air, and sharply looked up at her grandmother. “Dadi, please do not ever again listen to my phone calls!” she hissed.

And walking back, she pushed her black partially curly hair haughtily off her face, and started for the main door, at the farthest end of the drawing room. She was shocked and afraid as to how much her grandmother had heard. The boys were Mohit and Rajan, and she could not fathom what her grandmother meant to be careful of them…they were her friends, dammit! She was not running off with them… and they were not some thieves or crooks! She took a deep breath and shook her head in irritation; sometimes, she felt so angry at the peering piercing looks of her grandmom that she could have told her on the face, but her inherent good manners stopped her for creating a scene. She could not in her wildest dreams think of talking back to the old lady.

As she stepped into the room, her foot stuck into the carpet, and she stumbled forward. Raising her arms she tried to gain balance, but had to take a few hops front-wards. Her grandmother who was watching her leave in the haughty manner, immediately cried out, “Watch your steps, child!”

Gaining balance, she turned towards her grandmother. Their eyes met.

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“You are welcome, madam” said Mohit, as he handed over the last of the vegetables to the lady; she was in her mid-fifties, and was coming from the vegetable shop across the road, when her ankle had turned in, and the polythene bag slipped from her hands. She had looked on helplessly as the vegetables rolled over the pavement, but, thankfully, Mohit had seen her plight and had rushed across to help her.

She walked away, placing the brinjal into the packet, thanking his help once again; and Mohit walked back, in a self-confident swagger, to his group, standing at the entrance of the gate. They stood, idly, in all various stages of slump, resting against a shiny red Maruti Zen. They were on the edge of the parking lot, just facing the main entrance gate…Behind them, the looming red-brick building of their institution stood sprawling in its vastness; they stood observing the entrance and exit of students…again in various stages of lethargy and energy.

“Chal yaar, ek sutta pila” he called out to Rajan, his classmate, who was nearly lying on the bonnet, with his hand on his eyes, shielding against the sharp sun.

“Bahnchod, jeb se nikal le…saali garmi bhi itni hai ke phatti jaa rahi hai…how can you smoke in this heat!” drawled out Rajan, without stirring.

Mohit placed his hand into the pocket of his friend, and groped for the rectangular packet, and took it out; before that he noticed another square piece of cardboard; curious, he just pulled it out slightly to have a look …a bright red and white pack, with two naked bodies entwined together, photographed in shimmering black-and-white, smiled back at him.

“Saale…college mein condom leke aaya hai…what’s the plan, man?” he asked out, laughing. The other two, Rahul and Lalit, who had been engrossed in their own discussion, looked up inquisitively at Mohit, as he spoke out. They had small smiles plastered on their sweating faces. Rajan did not stir, and stayed wrapped over the bonnet.

“Plan? Teri maarni thi, isliye condom laaya tha…asshole!” spoke out Rajan.

Mohit took out a cigarette from the red Classic packet, and placed it between the lips, and searched his pocket.

“Matches?” he looked around.

Lalit placed his hand in his trousers and took out a red Ship box, commenting, “Saale, get something of your own also…kaun kahega tu MLA ka beta hai!”

Mohit took the matchbox, and lighted the cigarette, and simultaneously, spoke “My father is an MLA, minister ka beta to yeh baitha hai, condom leke… so, I am the poor little rich son, and by the way, kamine, itna bhaashan for a 50 paise matches…bahn ke… anyways, guys its time for class…nahin toh wo budhha Sharma phir princi ko complaint kar dega”

A groan came out.

The group, or the ‘gang’ as they used to call themselves, was in the third year of college: Mohit, Rajan, Rahul and Lalit. The foursome, that sat on the back benches of the B.A. Pass course. Apart from the meager studies they did, they were part of the band of the college, and were on the way to cut their remix album…having influential fathers sometimes helped!

Mohit took a puff, and observed the gate…a slim girl in a tight skirt entered, her eyes shielded with fancy glares, and her slender, waxed arms holding a few books next to her chest. Her cotton, florally designed skirt, had a deep cut neckline, through which the beginning of he luscious curves were clearly outlined. Mohit’s hand stopped mid-way to his lips, and he stared at her, unblinking.

Rahul, who saw Mohit’s look, squirmed, and said, “Mohit, please yaar…stop staring that way; it seemed you will take off her clothes with your eyes itself!”

“Bahn ki … clothes? I am already fucking her!” He looked at Lalit and Rahul, and signaled towards her, “she is in physics second year…kya chikni hai; lene mein mazzaa aayega…look at her boobs man...they are literally bouncing and wanting to come out of her dress!”

Both Rahul and Lalit twitched, a bit ashamed. Lalit said, “Haan..zaroor…as if she you are a stud and she is gonna just lay in front of you!” Though he spoke with a non-chalant dismissive tone, inwardly, Lalit admitted that Mohit did look like a stud- six foot tall, in a figure hugging bright blue T-shirt that displayed his gym toned biceps, and a faded jeans, again tight, and sticking on to his long, slender legs! A neat jawline, with sharp black eyes over a slender perfectly proportionate nose, added to the charm.

Observing that the girl had noticed their stares and was self-consciously rushing past them on the driveway towards the main building, Rahul tried to change the topic, “Come guys, let’s go…waise bhi, you guys will just keep talking shit; hone waala toh kuchh nahin…”

Mohit puffed at his cigarette and followed the girl with his gaze, and said, with a thoughtful look, “Aisi baat nahin hai… arre, karne ke liye toh yeh bhai sahib bhi hai…condom lekar aaya hai haramzada, madarchod…” He gave a half-scornful, half-jesting stress to the last two profanities and gave a friendly kick on the shins to Rajan, who got up from his reclining position, with a sharp, ‘ouch!’

As they gathered themselves and their books and bags, a voice shrilled out, “Hiiii guys…”

Turning, they saw Reena standing near the gate, waving…Rajan eyed the midriff, and focused on her navel; Mohit looked at the button of her small blouse that was open at the top. Rahul and Lalit looked at their two friends…

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She felt someone writing on her back; her eyes opened with a jerk. Her eyes searched for the clock on the opposite wall; the shadows were lengthening and she could notice the darkening summer day out of the window; it was around ten past seven, and immediately turned to face Mohit, who was playfully writing on her lower back with his fingers.

“Mohit, stop it please…and I got to go now, nahin to daadi will start off again!” she said, and got up to leave; she pulled back the bedsheet, and sat up, looking for her rubber band on the table at the side.

Mohit lay back, his arms placed beneath his head, his one naked leg lying loosely out of the carelessly wrapped bed sheet. He stared at the roof of his bachelor’s pad- a one room, one kitchen apartment on the top floor of South Extension, a posh locality of Southern Delhi. He pushed the red printed cotton bed sheet further down to his torso, revealing his smooth tanned sinewy body, a result of the regular shaving off of the unwanted hair.

“You are scared of your daadi?” he asked, raising his head slightly, eyeing her as she pulled her hair back in swift business like motions and caught them in a thick pony tail behind her.

She held the rubber band between her lips, and spoke through her clenched teeth with the band flapping as she spoke, “Not scared…but she is old, and alone at home…aur phir, I do respect her…though often she gets on my nerves with her constant mollycoddling…” She secured the rubber band securely on her hair.

“And your parents? They don’t say anything to you?”

She looked at him, and winked. He looked at her well shaped breasts and felt an erection between his legs. She flicked off a strand of fallen hair from the crevice between her breasts. “Naah… mom is damn cool; dad gets hyper sometimes, but then he has to get time to get hyper often…toh chalta hai…” She looked up, and saw where his eyes were going. Playfully, she hit his cheek and turned his face away, and got up to get dressed.

“You mean, to say that they don't ask ever?” he asked, his face turning back, as she searched for her panty in the pile of clothes lying on the tiled floor. She found it, entangled with his shirt and underwear and her bra; for a brief second she looked lustily at the skimpy VIP Frenchie navy blue speedos; dropping it, she sat on the edge, and pulled on her own dull pink undergarment and stood up to wear it. Mohit noticed the fair globes of her derriere as they got curtained by the semi-transparent clothing. "That means, they won't mind if they see you here?" he continued.

“Are you crazy?” she said, her voice heaving as she picked up the brassiere, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you think any parent would? To be honest, even I wouldn’t be comfy seeing my daughter…but then, that’s ok…I know what I am doing is not wrong, and perfectly safe as well…plus, you are a dear friend, no?”

She turned back to secure the hook and smiled at him. She looked soft and divine as she half turned her face towards him, her hands crossing behind her fumbling for the hook, her hair tied back neatly, her sharp but shapely nose twitching as she struggled, and her lips curved in a radiant half smile.

He smiled back. “Of course, we are the best of friends…”

She felt a heart warming feeling rush through her; it was fun with Mohit- the jokes, the ribaldry, the studies…and of course the sex; she did not even recall how and when it happened the first time; it seemed so long ago; but it was good, and he was gentle…at least, he had a sense of humor even while fucking her, unlike Rajan, who was such a bore in bed. She was once curious to ask him whether he knew about Rajan…but left it…you never know with these males, she thought! They might just take it the other way…not that she was in love or anything with Mohit, but then, she did not want to lose out on the fun…anyways, Rajan was over and done with. At least, she ensured that they never slept once Mohit came into the picture.

She took up her white top and straightened it out. “But daadi…she is different and sometimes weird! You remember that school sex scandal some time back…the girl who was pregnant and was found out by the school sick bay?” She placed her hand into the left sleeve of the top.

“Ya? What of it?”

“Arre..you should have seen the way daadi started her bhaashans on me after that incident…ek toh Star News and all seemed to have nothing better to show during that time, and dadi was just glued to it… and she went on about aurat ki sharam , haya and aaj kal ke bache and what nots!” She rolled her eyes, and shuddered and made a sound of irritation. “It was so stupid to see her go on and on and on…as if I was some kid. I felt like telling her that dammit I am 19 now, and educated and not dumbo like that kid of school! And that this is the 21st century…”

Getting up, she started pacing the room; in just a top and panty, she looked luscious with her long shapely carved and waxed legs! She went to the sofa chair, and picked up his jeans…and as she did, her eyes flashed a naughty grin at him, and she kissed the jeans at the crotches!

“Now where are my jeans?”

“Sweetie, you took them off in the bathroom itself!” he replied.

She walked past the end of the bed, and he raised his head again to have a look at her; yes, it was fun with her, he thought. She seemed so cool and collected and extremely uninhibited. Rajan was correct in his analysis on her. “So what did you tell her?” he asked.

From the bathroom, she replied, “What could I tell her? I told her that I am no longer a kid and I understand what is right and wrong for me!” And that, I do not need to be spoon fed on sex and knows the ways and means to be safe and happy and cannot take sex the way the generation before her took it, were some of the other things that Reena wanted to add, but at that time could not.

She came out of the bathroom, her jeans on, and sat on the edge of the bed, next to his feet, and bent down to wear her sandals. He raised his foot to wriggle it up her back. She turned sharply, “Stop it, na!” she smiled, and teasingly pulled back the rest of the sheet and moved her hand up his leg. “My God, you are some horny bastard!” she squealed. He gave a small yelp as her hand touched his penis, pushed her good naturedly away, and got up from the bed. Picking up a cigarette from a table on his side, he lit it, and proceeded towards the bathroom.

She stood up, and collected her bag, and looked around one last time to ascertain that she was not leaving anything behind, and started for the main door, past the bathroom. She heard the trickle of his urine falling into the commode water.

“Ok Mohit, me’s leaving…see ya in college tomorrow, good night!”

“Bye sweetheart…hey just a sec…” She stopped her hand on the door knob.

He came out, and stood leaning against the door, and blew out a long puff of smoke, “Are you coming to the party day after tomorrow?”

“I am not sure…as you know, mom and dad are in Hyderabad. So, will have to check with daadi…” she shrugged.

“Do try…the entire gang will be there…”

She grimaced…of the gang, there were a few ‘characters’ as she called them, whom she detested.

“Anyways, will let you know in college tomorrow…see ya” She opened the door and walked out.

To Be Continued