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The Indigenius' Den by Ankit Kumar is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at www.theindigeniusden.blogspot.com.

Friday, October 20, 2017

Parallels


Act
It felt like electricity - coursing through her being, tantalizing every inch of her - making her whole yet broken. Nerves working overtime, signals shooting off at thrilling speeds - heightened senses, giving in, yet holding back. With an elevated sense of touch, his fingertips felt every meander on her taut skin - familiar yet new. Rhythm had given way long ago to a frenetic pace. Dizzy and delirious, he held on tight as she feverishly drew small, eager, warm and wet circles on him. He finally lost all control as she gushed a long yesss answering an unasked question.

It felt worth it.

House

Puja’s hands were working in overdrive - decluttering the bedroom before Rajeev got back. His last meeting for the day had been cancelled. I’ll be home soon. - He had called. The bedroom needed to look absolutely in order. Curiously - the rest of the house already was - save the wooden stool near the main door. In this expansive opulence, Puja was enjoying the freedom that Rajeev had bargained for. I earn enough for both of us - he had offered. Her married life had been easy but somewhat dull off late. She had her brand new red lingerie on under her inviting dress. It was a special day.

The door bell rang announcing Rajeev’s arrival. Puja got up, hurriedly scanned the room one last time and made for the door. She straightened the stool near the entrance and answered the door.

Night
“How could you, Rajeev, how could you?!” after all this, after so much time. Puja sobbed. She had found maroon stains on the insides of Rajeev’s shirt - lipstick marks irrefutably.

Rajeev stared blankly into space. Puja looked ravishing in her black dress. She was everything he had ever wished for. Yet, somehow the growing distance between them had pushed him over. However, he had always been very discreet. This had been brewing for over a year. He couldn’t tell how this little detail had evaded his careful manner.

“It’s over, Rajeev! I had thought you’d at least plead.” Puja stormed out of the bedroom she had ordered so frantically a few hours back. Rajeev started after her. Their marriage seemed over.

Yet, all this while, the telling snag in Puja’s red thong from the act earlier that day went unnoticed and unquestioned...

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