The photo shoot assignment for Samir had fallen through. Amidst all the applicants queued up for the selection process, there were many pretenders with a lot of equipment that would be unnecessary, and then some who were simply better. Samir’s simple portfolio of pictures ranging from landscapes and wildlife to women had been reviewed in all of two minutes and handed back to him. It was all over.
“Animals!”, he said to himself.
As Samir walked out in the rain from the thick protective foliage of the star hotel compound in New Delhi, he felt his anger drowning. He had been there many times before. Denial was like a prostitute. Comforting in some strange way, with the knowledge that there were no favours involved from either side.
He walked home all the way from there. It took him an excess of two hours to reach his door in that torrential downpour. Thankfully, the sidewalks were sans people except for a few who had nowhere to hide. The protective covers of urban steel, glass and concrete were irrelevant for these homeless animals.
As he was fishing for the key to his apartment door, he saw Tara walking up the stairs. She lived with a roommate on the floor above his apartment. The two minutes walk from the main road where she had left the auto rickshaw had drenched her completely.
“Hi” said Tara stopping for a second, creating a little puddle of water on the floor, thanks to gravity pulling it down from all over her wet being.
“Hey, the rain has done you good” Samir replied.
Just three hours back, Tara was cosy on a sofa, sipping warm tomato soup and looking forward to the stroganoff she had ordered already. This treat was on her boss, who was busy stirring the Bacardi and coke concoction in his glass. Tara had done extremely well for the whole of last year and the boss man was happy. He had invited her over to his plush South-Ex villa for an afternoon meal.
“It is finally just you and me honey. I have wanted to ask you out for a long time. The wife and kids are abroad to see some relatives so you know. . .”
“I don’t know, I need time to think this over”, Tara replied, wondering why she did. She just hated him right then.
“I promise I will be gentle and we will have a great time. Did someone ever tell you that you are a very beautiful woman”, he said, his gaze hovering around Tara’s ample bosom.
“Animal!”, cried out Tara’s inner voice. “Motherfucking animal!”
“Yeah, the rain has done me some good” she sighed as she watched Samir unlock the door with shivering hands. Samir stared back at her. It was a gentle, warm look. What Samir saw in turn was quite an eyeful though. The rain water had taken amazing liberties on Tara’s anatomical canvas. Her flawless dusky skin had married the now translucent white shirt and they were now a pair that would take a lot of persuasion to part ways.
The pink lacy bra she wore underneath was the exact colour that the northern landscape needed for visual relief. Samir’s wet linen trouser did little to hide the recent rush of blood flowing south. Tara noticed that Samir was endowed beyond anything she had ever seen or experienced. That was one animal erection she just wanted between her legs right then. She would even spread her legs as wide as she could for it to go in deeper than any man had ever gone before.
Then she felt a warm wetness trickling down her inner thighs. What a shocking and welcome difference in temperature that was from the November rain water all over her.
Tara used her fingers quite often. Her own fingers gave her much more pleasure and satisfaction than all the men she had fucked in her life. She liked the fact that with her fingers, she could control the timing of the orgasm to perfection; unlike the men who either came too fast or outlasted her by minutes. As she conjured up her wildest thoughts one after another, she could choose the moment of explosion. If one particular thought was not exciting enough anymore, she could change the scene on her mind’s screen, taking her high to all new levels and thus a greater final fall to nothingness.
“Call me a whore!” she screamed as he entered her dripping and smooth love tunnel. Satisfaction for Tara was as much cerebral as physical and these two forces had worked together to shape her into who she was deep down inside. It was a selfish act of self contentment for her and the other person never really mattered.
“I am your little, dirty whore!” she screamed as he crushed her under his weight, mashing her breasts and plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, annihilating all traces of the pink lip gloss she had meticulously applied a few hours ago. She closed her eyes and imagined many men doing it to her at the same time, hungrily fighting to claim the limited amount of land and openings available to them.
The competition was as stiff as the orgasm and then in a flash, she had switched off. She had gone into her own world of memories. Memories of a home she never belonged to. Memories of love that never quite happened the way it should have. Memories of being used. Oh yes. Memories of being used and thrown away in a polite, urban manner. “Bloody animals!” she thought.
“Take an umbrella Tara, its pouring” said her boss as he caught his breath and wiped himself with a hand towel he had just pulled out of the bedside drawer.
“No thanks. And thanks for the lunch” said Tara, already thinking about what she would cook for her ever hungry roommate this moist evening. Shilpa was important. Cooking was important. Cooking for Shilpa was even more important. She was more than a friend. She was a sister. Maybe even more.
“Would you like to come in for a warm cuppa?” Samir asked her.
“I would love to but let us save that for another day” Tara apologetically blurted out, a cocktail of emotions and desires filling her mind.
She needed to quickly break away and climb another floor to her apartment to be in control again. Control that could be swiftly established with the use of her fingers and then momentarily held right up there with some illusions, till it all fell apart.
“I have made you pyaaz ke paraathe and pudine ki chutni tonight babes” Shilpa exclaimed as she opened the door and hugged her.
“But why?”, Tara questioned.
“Sshh baby. There was no way I would let you cook after such a hard day at work and all this rain”, Shilpa cut her off as she ran to the closet to fetch Tara a towel.
Outside, it continued raining animals.
[I wrote this one on a rainy evening in Vashi, Navi Mumbai, just to amuse myself. Must have been early 2008. Publishing it for the first time on Little Tales]