Misc. Erotica BODY OF SIN

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BODY

OF

SIN

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Author's Note

1
      Prologue
      Chapter 1
      Chapter 2

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Author's Note:

This is a work of fiction, similarity with anyone living or dead is purely unintentional and coincidental. Involves subjects few readers may find unsuitable, so reader discretion is appreciated.The material is of adult nature and meant for those above legal age of eighteen.


All fictional characters of the story are of legal age and are engaged in consensual sex, there is no violence against women in this story and such acts are abhor-able.  

Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Keep it as what it really is, erotic writing of graphic sexual nature and nothing else.

Will appreciate any comments or perusal from readers, on a final note, this is a long story peppered with sex, it does not start with sex and end with it and/or is filled with it. There is an attempt made to weave a reasonably good story that would be believable though author has taken his/her liberty with the old adage, ‘suspension of belief’ to weave the said story.

Stay Safe,Wear a Mask.

Rgds
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PROLOGUE

It was a little after eleven and the calling bell broke the soft sound of jazz playing through two Bose speakers in the front hall. The owner of the house was busy in kitchen, putting the finishing touches to a steak that he had cooked, the layer of pepper and crushed rock salt, when the bell rang. Akash wiped his hand on the apron he wore, glanced at the time as he walked out to the door, the second ring longer and louder. He opened the door.
She was dressed in yellow, the softness of the nearly transparent sari, hugged her figure.
“You cooking…” she asked as she barged in, walking into the small bar, looked around, pulled out a Cutty Sark, poured a large and splashed cold water from the small bar fridge.
“Bad day…” Akash asked as he went back to the steak, he had few more spices to add.
“That smells good…”
“Can I cut a piece for you…”
“What are you having it with…”
“Steak, Mashed potatoes and beans… wine probably…”
“Nah! I’m fine…” She added as she pulled the chair by the dinning table, sat on it.
Akash went back to adding the final touches to his steak, spicing it up to his taste, grabbed the vessel from the stove, put a dollop of the mashed potato, still steaming. He neatly placed the beans around, few strings of it, added a pinch of salt. He took a sip of the wine refilling his glass as he walked to the dinning table.
She had sat on his chair, but today he wasn’t going to watch the television, so it really didn't matter. He turned down the jazz music and placed the plate on the table, with the cutlery he had grabbed from the shelf.
He cut a small piece of the juicy steak and took a bite, a little more spice, maybe it wasn’t late. She pulled the plate towards her side of the table and used a spoon to take a little of the mashed potato, she then used the knife to cut through steak, bit into it.
“A little less pepper and more salt, but perfect…” she opined as she pushed the plate back to were he sat, still lost in her own world.
“Having a bad day…” he asked.
“Why else would I come here, he reached an hour back drunk and I didn’t want the repeat of last month…”
Akash knew what had happened last month, he decided it was best not to mention it at that moment, just nodding his head getting back to his dinner.
“I don’t even remember when was the last time he cooked for me? He never steps into the kitchen, beneath him apparently, men in his family have lived their whole lives never entering the kitchen, even seeing, fucking crap” she cursed, stirring the drink in her glass.
Akash looked at her, she wasn’t staring at him or talking to him either, it were as though he was in the middle of a conversation she was having with herself. He didn’t like the way she looked, he knew he had always had a crush on her and she knew it too and moments like these the ugly fangs of temptation showed up. He hated how she could charm him at her will, manipulate and play with his emotions. It was something he hated, the only thing probably he hated about her. No he didn’t hate that about her, he didn’t, she liked to control people around her especially those who had a boyish infatuation on her and she knew very well that he was one among the many.
Even the way he spoke betrayed it.
He didn’t know why he never felt a defenseless wreck with anyone else.

Akash was a fashion photographer by profession, a famous one at that, most fashion and film magazines across the country and few international magazines too had carried his photo on their cover. It had paid for a comfortable house removed from the city. A beautiful view, an old vintage car that stood out in the metallic junk of the city, a lovely garden in the front and a kitchen garden in the backyard, a small comfortable house with a beautiful view of the hills and the paddy fields. The birds and sunlight would wake him up instead of the electronic cry of a mobile phone, fresh air breezed through the open windows and the on rainy days it wasn’t the garbage that filled the drains, but the leaves and petals from the garden. It was a sight to behold on one of those cold foggy mornings when the thick cloud of fog clung on to the hills till the sun was well up in the sky.

“I was afraid to come here..” She paused, sipping her whiskey, placing the glass on a toaster, looking out at the front table. Without being told he knew what she was looking for, he pulled out the pack of smokes and handed it to her, along with his vintage zippo.

“I always liked this…” she stared at the zippo, leaving her previous sentence unfinished. She always did that, picking up words and going on tangential thoughts, leaving the listener with more questions than answers and few painful moments of isolated misery before she finally came back to what she had left unsaid. But it wasn’t always for her to come back, some sentences remained unanswered.
Today wasn’t one of those days.

“So” she went back to the what she had left unsaid after a good few minutes talking about the lighter. “I was worried you’d have some model or actress for the weekend.”

It had happened one time, that too many years back when she was only engaged and about to get married and had visited him at home only to find a famous actress walking out of the bedroom  in a bath robe with her hair disheveled and clearly unkempt. 

He didn’t reply to her, since he knew that would start another line of questions which would never end. Remaining quiet he finished his dinner, chewing on the last strings of beans as he  excused himself and walked to the kitchen to wash the plates. It was Sunday tomorrow, the maid had her day off, he rinsed the plate, washed it in warm water and wiped it before keeping it on the stand along with the other plates.

The longer he stayed away from her, the better it was for him, she was a ticking bomb, the manifestation of every undesirable thought in him. He always felt trapped in a straight jacket when she was around, even socially, he was never himself. Always on defensive, never free with his words or thoughts, why was he scared of her, something he never understood about himself.

Never!

She sat there, the queen of everything she gazed, taking in the beautiful view of the night sky through the huge glass wall of the front hall.

He pushed the chair in, turned the lights of the hall.

“Leave it off…” she said, covering her eyes as though the gentle glow of the light would have melted her skin, a tad bit dramatic he thought as he switched the light off. He did as the Queen desired, silently looking out at the sky from were he sat, on an uncomfortable bean bag, wondering were it was going to go, how wild were his thoughts going to get.

“Akash talk to me…”

He turned around, she was now leaning on the couch, with her legs stretched on to the glass table, the sari laying lazily over her slender long feet.

“What…”

“Who are you working with nowadays…”

She was always interested to know.

“Just a shoot with few models in Mauritius…”

“Oh wow! You never told me that…” she added, the excitement was obviously fake, he had already told her few weeks back as a passing remark but he was sure she hadn’t heard him. She preferred being heard to than hearing. A woman like that would have never gotten anywhere with a man, any man, unless it was her, she would, she could, only she could. An intoxicating mix of charm and innocence with the right amount of sexual energy, moments with her were like walking on a tight rope high up in the sky, a gently gush of air would throw even the most self restrained men off the rope.

“Models?”

“Brazilian… for some calendar there…”

“Ah so bikini’s and beaches… your specialty…”

It wasn’t his specialty, that was profile photography and fashion photography, but given how well the brands paid to photograph such calendars and events, he could not say no to them so he always had few assignments spread over the year. She’d call it Bikini’s and Beaches even though he termed it assignments.

“I’m bored…” she yawned stretching her arms, reaching for a second cigarette, she lit it and took a puff, stepping off the couch and walking into his house. It wasn’t particularly huge house, he wanted it in quite a particular way, a beautiful view of the hills, the morning sun and the paddy fields. Two bedrooms on the ground floor and the big bed room on the first. A working gym, a steaming room with an exercise cycle affixed to a corner, his study with a library of large collection of non-fictional and old plays and theater books, few about classical western music and jazz. The odd room out was his home studio, not that he invited anyone for pictures, but there were days when he’d like to tinker with lights and shadows, with macro-photography and once in a while scan through old magazine covers trying to figure out how the photographer would have set the the frame and composed it before finally taking the picture. The task would have been very difficult in a reel camera, these days the digital made it very ease. It was the only room he never allowed anyone unless it was for a work or assignment, none of his friends had even seen it, or the few girls friends he brought home or anyone else for that matter.

But she, she was different, the queen of everything she gazed, she stepped in without even bothering to tell him. She knew the combination of the door she had got it from him many months ago just when he had built his house after spending a considerable portion of his savings.

“Wow…”

Had she gone in smoking the cigarette, Akash hurried up the stairs and there she was in the middle of the carpeted floor, taping ashes onto an ash tray she had in her other hand.

“When did you take this…” she pointed at the image of a model.

“A week back…” Akash added.

“She is gorgeous…”

Of course she was, she had won Miss Colombia six months back, the model in the picture.

“I love it in black and white…” she added, still staring at the image.

He remembered the shoot, it was in Paris, he had only landed that morning and he was approached by this agent who wanted to make a portfolio for a Miss Colombia interested in getting into fashion. He was still having jet lag but he relented, knowing well that Latin America was a market he had yet to work extensively and he was dying to, given how many projects they had and the way they paid for a good job.


She moved from one image to another, one of a beautiful woman hoisted by two well oiled men with her long legs resting on the forehead of another man kneeling in front of her. The woman was naked, yet the men had positioned in such a way none of her body with exception of her beautiful face and long leg could be seen. It was a particularly good photograph, with striking colours and the black velvet background. “Queen of Egypt” he called it and had framed it in
his study, among the very few photos that he liked, in his wall of pride.

“When are you going to take pictures of me…” she asked.

He smiled, she had been the Queen of dreams and nightmares for years, the perfect model, but he was inexperienced those days, he was learning photography, it was different today.

“Some day… let me find time…”

“How about tomorrow…”

“I’m flying off in the evening…”

“You have the whole morning to yourself don’t you…”

“Packing…”

“I’ve seen you packing, I’m sure you have already finished it… don’t be a dick about it…”

He didn’t reply and she saw it as an opportunity to give her own ideas rambling one after the other, fixated with going to the hills while the light streamed down thick woods. Little did she know that a single picture sometimes took few hours to even set, it was always difficult when working with professionals who rarely had time and never bothered to care about how challenging getting the right photograph was, the smart ones always arrived late.

“Were did that nude photograph go… you know with the woman’s breast and all…”

He shook his head, ‘Fountain of Youth’ he had named it, she knew the name too, it was written in a plaque beneath the photograph and she had quipped a dozen times complaining and cribbing about why he still had that one picture.

“Re-framing… I wanted it in a bigger frame…”

He knew she would disapprove of it, but he loved the photo, there was a story behind it, probably the only story she didn’t know about him.

“Why… it’ll look odd among these beautiful pictures…” she looked around the rest of the small pictures in frames, ones that hadn’t made it to the Wall of Pride, but were still good. She spotted one she liked and pulled it out of it’s place, staring at it.

“Isn’t it your car…” she asked.

Akash nodded his head.

“I want a picture like this…” she replied.

“That was done in the valley’s up north…”

“You can find a proper substitution for that…”

“Much of it is in it's colours, the snow, the red, the yellow, the shades of orange…”

“Big deal… you are so good at it right, you’ll figure out something… this one I want…”

“How about tomorrow…”

“It’s not easy as you think…”

She placed the small framed photo on the table, it would remain there till he put it back, it was always like that with her.

“If you don’t want to take a picture you just have to say… don’t make excuses.”

He sighed, there was no reasoning with her, never.

“Let me return from Mauritius, I’ll have few days free… I’ll call you…”

“Thanks..” She grinned, “Oh wait! The last time you promised to take a picture, I’m still waiting for the call by the way.”

She knew why he hadn’t called and she knew very well why he would not have called, not for photographing her. Why was she torturing him like this?

Why?

It was in her nature, it was what defined her, the way she controlled those around her. Taking a deep breath, he observed as she carefully stubbed the cigarette in the ash tray and placed the it on the desk, just next to the small framed photograph.

He took a breath.

“I promise this time I will…”

“I’ve heard enough…” she added, “many promises! Many I will’s”

He didn’t reply she knew why he avoided him, she should know it by now.

“When are you returning from…” she turned around, “Were are you headed…”

“Mauritius…” Sure she remembered it, she just had to show she didn’t care were he went, or what he did.

“Next Friday…” he added, “I’ll land by three in the morning…”

“Three… okay… I’ll give you the whole day to sleep… I’ll call you in the evening…” she glanced at the time, it was a little to midnight, “Now drop me home…”

He quietly waited for her to walk out of the room before he grabbed the ash tray, the last thing he wanted was ash on the carpet. He silently followed her into her BMW 7 Series. Stepped in and throttled out of his house.

The Queen of Everything her eyes fell on, she was his puppet master.

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Lopa:


Around the time Akash was speeding through the nearby state highway headed to the airport, not far from were he was, a college student drove into her newly rented house.  She parked her Mercedes in the portico and stepped out. The breeze from the lake was good and cold and she knew she’d have to go to the terrace with her dinner.
Finding the right house had taken time, quiet a long time, two weeks and she had to go around her college to all the nearby towns and villages which weren’t many. To her a perfect house was removed from the clutter by the side of a road and an unobstructed view of the horizon, finding something akin to that was difficult yet given how she didn’t mind paying a good some to get one, she had settled on the one house that met most of her requirement. A newly built house, the owners son rushing off for new soft ware assignment in Europe which left them with no choice but to rent it out, hoping someone would take it. It was a village after all and that meant the rents were low and given how the house was new and all she found it to be a good deal. She hired professionals to clean up the courtyard, put a carpets in the hall and bed rooms and study, get few required furniture and the one thing she absolutely wanted, in a fairly big kitchen she wanted a comfortable kitchen island with a sink and place to cook and two people to sit and eat comfortably. She had always wanted one.
Lopa stepped into her bedroom, she had already changed into her pj’s and held a cup of hot tea. A cigarette would be a good way to start the first evening in her own rented house. She walked up to the terrace.
“Unbelievable…” the house owner had said, when he first saw the terrace, she had spend quite an amount on it and he took images from his mobile sending it to his son in Europe. The terrace had been painted over to make it water proof, an artificial tarmac, a small shade with wooden roof coated to withstand the harsh summer sun and a swing for two people. A small round table with few home made chairs made from processes vehicle tires and seats, a good ambiance for an evening of drink or casual conversation. She also had a small bar to herself, whiskey’s and vodka and few bottles of wine for dinners. Not that she drank much, it was once or twice a month she’d have a peg or two when she absolutely felt the need for it.
Easing back on the swing she lit her cigarette and took a deep puff, the first of the day, she hated smoking before she called it a day, she hated to have a tobacco breath. She tapped the ash gently into the nearby tray, affixed to the swing, in a quirky suggestion by the decorator something Lopa loved and agreed to. It now came in handy as she took in the view.
A huge line of paddy fields, a lovely lake, small temple at one end under a huge banyan tree and the hills beyond the lake, they all were now blanketed in the dark now and she couldn’t see it, but she would see it the next morning and she intended to see it.
Her mobile buzzed and it was Milee her college room mate, it was a message.

All settled?

Lopa typed in a reply.

Just about, lit a cigarette and having tea.

Good! Keep my room clean for the weekend.

Sure!

Lopa shook her head and stared back at the night sky taking a sip of her hot tea.
Milee was a striking contrast to everything Lopa herself was, reserved and with few words, it was like she was always thinking something. What she never understood?
Yet Milee was a good person, she rarely argued which didn’t mean they agreed on everything. It was just that they knew how to find the middle ground, a strange new experience to Lopa who was used to getting away with whatever she wanted. Milee was smart and liked to spend a lot of time online, going through the markets, keeping an eye on her meager portfolio, which she had made from conducting tuition to nearby kids during her school days. From a middle class family she was an ambitious woman who was desperate to make a good future for herself or as she put it, a home in the city and a good life.
Lopa had asked Milee to move in with her to the new house, Lopa had figured if she could share a room with her, Lopa could share a house and to her surprise Milee had said no and her reason was not expected.

If I come down and stay with you, I’d be a burden and that I don’t want to be, I would be living off you, which I don’t want to, all good friends fall apart because of one thing called money.

It made sense, how someone didn’t want to lean on another no matter how good friends they were. Lopa understood that though she had wondered if Milee would ever join her in her rented home.
But now all she had time for was the second cigarette and probably a movie or something and then ease back to having her dinner, another half an hour in the terrace and around midnight, get a good sleep.


Suhasini:

Suhasini or Suha as she was called by her close friends, stepped out of her office, spitting on to the road as she stepped on to her scooter. She started the gear less vehicle and throttled as fast as she could go.
At twenty seven she had just finished four years interning under the same boss, someone who was the lawyer to politicians and stars, a man of unparalleled genius and like all unparalleled genius with gaping flaws that would not have been tolerated by society in someone not so successful.
She slowed at the signal, waiting for it to go green, staring around. The world was obvious to the filth that she called her life, a lawyer who had not seen the steps of the court for four years, yes she had been to court, documentation and registering were all her headache, but she was never good enough to go for a sitting or a negotiation. The apathy shown towards her was stunning, those who had joined after her were already working on their first cases. All because they had no morals.
Yet she knew it was best to wait, there was a right time to pull the string that held her morals. There was always a right time, one error and the confidence in the two colleague of her’s would come down and then she had more than a career to be worried about. She had her own plans for her future, she had long decided on it, her life ahead and every day and every thing she did was making a move towards that one goal.
The signal turned green and she throttled off merging with the snail paced traffic, cutting through the narrow gaps between cars she sped to the front of the long line of vehicles. Buses belching out thick white plumes of smoke, cars that were loud next to bikes that were equally loud and above all, auto rickshaw’s that snaked between all vehicles clogging and congesting the already packed road. She snaked behind a car, not far from the signal, she had to take a left and crawl through the narrow suburban roads and head off to join the main road again. It was the road she usually took. That day was no different, she turned down the small lane, through pot hole filled roads she navigated out merging to a smaller parallel road which she would drive for good fifteen minutes before joining the same road she had broken off well after the clogging traffic signals.
It was already eight in the evening, her husband would have left by six thirty, he worked as a team lead in a BPO and had night duty for the week. She would cook something simple and probably call it a night early. She needed a long nights sleep, especially after what had happened that evening. She needed to keep the office stuff at office. Her boss the old lawyer had screamed at her much to the amusement of her two colleagues. It was all because she had yet to get the payment that the team was owed by a political client who had been saved from jail time. It had been pending for six months and it was her responsibility. The politician himself, if reports had to be believed, busy splitting the party to form a parallel political party to usurp power. That was what was being reported in the papers and she had closely followed it whenever anything came up. All she got through was the politicians accountant who had been avoiding her calls for a while. Her boss knew what was happening, it was in his favour for the politician to come to power and that could only happen if the later was held in debt.
It was all a game of politics, money would be thrown around as though it were no one’s business. She still had things to do. She’d have to go to the politician’s office and meet with the accountant and hear it from him directly.
Suha checked the time, another fifteen more minutes and she’d just in time to see her favourite television program, the hour news program called The Story of the Deal. Over the last few months she had been following it, she loved the host, Sanjana who had become an influential person in the country after hosting the show for past eight years now. It had been well received and was quiet popular holding it’s own sway against competition and over the past few years it had been the TV-Show with the highest viewing audience. Sanjana’s humorous and professional handling of the show, the way she didn’t prepare any script and the way she held her interview making powerful and mighty on the cold seat. She dissected the society’s problems in a very professional manner.
There was another reason why Suha followed the show, one that served her own interest, if things went according to her plans, she would need all help she could get.
Life was always unpredictable.
As she drove into the small gate of her modest house, at the outskirts of the city, she saw the familiar bike of her friend, Nithya, parked outside. Suha waved at her friend, throttling her own bike into the small parking lot by the independent house.

“You been waiting for long…”

“Second cigarette…” Tapping the ash of her cigarette into an empty pack.

“Why are you seated in the dark…” Suha asked, as she unbuckled her helmet and placed it under the seat and slammed it shut. Su joined her friend by the stairs, pulling out a cigarette from Nithya’s pack and lighting it.

“Even in the dark the guys are making sure they get a good look…”

Suha shook her head grinning as she took a deep puff from the cigarette. She knew the trouble with the guys in the street, they’d never let a woman walk by with a risque comment. Maybe one day she should get Moe down here he’d straighten anyone out, the man was a wild beast.
Suha tapped the ash of the cigarette into the empty packet and blew a thick cloud of smoke, watched it dissipate into the night breeze, the stench filled shit smell of a city calling it a day. She never wanted this life for herself but one day she’d say goodbye to all of it and soon.

Sanjana:

Around the time thirty three million homes watched the fact based program that had become the biggest talking point in the town, it’s hose Sanjana sat in her home, glued to the television. Like she always did, she preferred to be alone when watching herself. She wanted to see like an audience. She wanted to know were things went wrong, what better she could have done, were she could have lightened the debate or were she could have focused.
It was all important.
Sanjana watched herself in the screen as the camera pulled up to her face, she increased the volume of the channel.

Good evening one and all, thanks for joining me in todays edition of The Story Behind the Deal. Before we begin the story, may I ask my audience one question, “HOW MANY OF YOU BELIEVE WHAT YOUR GOVERNMENT SAYS AND DO YOU BELIEVE THEY SAY THE TRUTH AT ALL TIMES?”

Sanjana quickly scribbled in her note book.
Shorter Questions Better framed

I know for sure the Government must not speak the truth at all times, becomes some truths, some facts are best kept away from people at the same time, some truths no matter how hard they are, the world must know, the people must know. We elected you, please give us the basic credit that we will understand, maybe not everyone will understand, maybe few will not be bothered, but still you have to tell because that is how a fucntional democracy evolves, advances, if we dream to become a Super Power one day, we need to begin to accept advanced responsibilities to our citizens and that is the first step towards bigger dreams and bigger ambitions.

Sanjana scribbled again.

Shorter monologue, to the point, vague, have a punch line.

She circled the punch line part. It was staring at her, she should have used it.

Tele Prompter for Punch lines. She noted.

Today’s story is about a decade old fight between a jungle tribe and the State and Federal Government. Yes no one owns the forests we are blessed with, no one owns the rivers and mountains, no one owns the air we breath, but haven’t we destroyed enough families, uprooted enough in name of development, in name of progress and have not have our share of destruction of the land we live in. Should we not make few exceptions, very few exceptions, not much but a little, tiny bit.

In today’s story behind the deal, we look at the Rarkan tribes struggle and like always we will cover both sides, who are we to judge, but we throw it to you to judge, because your judgment matters, who you favour matters, end of the day it is you, me, the hungry masses, the ordinary men and women who elect representatives and as long as such a system exists, your voice matters.
Remember if any body must be heard in our society it is the voice of the informed masses.

At thirty eight Sanjana hadn’t started her career as a journalist. She had joined the intelligence community of the country after her post graduation, trained to become one among the rare few who could significantly get information from a source, caress and smoothen a source and most importantly put them at an ease. Maybe it was because she was a woman, maybe it was cause she didn’t pose a threat or challenge and she knew how to play a man’s mind very well. Feed into his ego before cutting him down all the while tacitly pulling out information she wanted. Someone trained her to be an interrogator and she excelled in the role. It took her few years before finally sitting face to face with a celebrity who had come under the radar for his ‘alleged underworld contact’, the grueling interrogation had lasted twelve straight hours. It all began with him typically tongue wagging about the people he knew and the people he was friends with. She had patiently heard for a good hour and each question she asked was met with one lie or another or a threat. One by one she pulled out his story, using his own words to dissect his well thought out story. It wasn’t a movie, it was real life, she told him, the producer, the director, the script and screen writer, everything that was her and by end of the interrogation she told him straight to his face, you’ll be sitting on the same chair wishing you had started by saying the truth. He had rubbished her claim, using few choice words to insult her, her being a woman and the way he made woman cry rather than other way around.

“Of course I know that…” Sanjana had smiled, pulling out pictures of his old girl friend, face cut at several places and swollen black eyes, a torn lip.

That was the first jab, the knock out punch would come a good hour later when she presented him with evidence after evidence, one after another to decimate the delusions story he had made up.

“I know everything that has one has to know, the only reason you are here because I wanted to see you crying… like you make your girl friends cry and trust me by the time I’m done you’ll be pissing your pants… you are not even important to this case… you are just a message to people who we are after and now they know…”

“You are putting my life in danger…” he barked out, on verge of tears, “My family…”

“No… no… you did that when you asked for favours from the wrong people, you endangered your family… we are just reminding you of your mistakes…”

That was how the second half of the interrogation had gone, with him ending up like a mewling kitten, rattling out everything he knew, the sum total of who is who in the industry and how deep the dangerous nexus of Mafia, Politicians, Cops and Business was. He was just a link in a chain, a cog in a machine that was used to cement the case against the big guns, a pawn in a bigger game and like every game of chess, pawns were there to be sacrificed, unless one smart pawn figured a way to morph into a Minister.
That was her strength, to make one comfortable before she dismantled the whole house of cards, one card at a time till none remained, a method she used to this date. Though not much is still known about her life before journalism, the Wikipedia, page on her mentions she held a Government Job in Environmental ministry before switching to journalism.

That was her cover.
Just a cover.

Yet she had left the Intelligence Network she was beginning to like, growing delusional, knowing very well it was a man’s world and she had no place in a men’s club.

The switch to journalism came naturally, she had an instinct for hunting stories and when she was called for the interview by a well respected editor of a magazine, she could have walked in without a resume and got the job, but she didn’t want it like that. Instead of a job she was offered a three month training period and she excelled getting her first foot into the world of media. The switch from print to media happened years later and that too when the actor himself recommended her name to a friend who was interested in hiring a new face as a host for his newly started news and television media company.

“How do you know each other…” was what the friend asked.

“Neither of us will ever speak about that…” she had replied, “Once I spent a twelve long hours with him in a small room…”

“Many woman have spent longer hours..even days…” The friend said smiling.

“Well, but I’m sure he’d never want a repeat of that…”

The friend stared at the actor who just nodded the head, an old story, a bad memory a nightmare the actor talked about and the friend knew.

“So it is you…” that was all he had said.

The show wasn’t called The Story behind the Deal. She had a fifteen minute segment interviewing people for a different show and when that Anchor finally jumped the Channel, Sanjana had got her break.
There was no looking back from then. Eight Years after that she was today a partner of the media house and one of the wealthiest television personalities, making much more than her contemporaries in the movie industry over a year, she had become the biggest name, all because she could make powerful people sweat with her questions.

"So this is the moment you should all be keeping your eyes on," the television volume echoed in the empty hall, " on one side we have a minor group that had lived off the land for centuries and on the other… well today it’s them who knows who it will be tomorrow and that is something for you all to think. For now that’s it from my desk, good night and a productive weekend."

Sanjana switched off the television, as always she’d head back to her laptop and compare what her colleagues too had thought about the show and were they felt changed were needed. A successful show always evolved, the frame work may survive the test of time but minor changes always happened, punch lines, catchy punch lines that was what she needed. She typed out a mail to the Group. Her mobile buzzed.
It was one of her team members.

Still no news of Archana.

Sanjana stared at the message, she knew her team member Archana, that lady was one of a kind, she’d not be worried about the sudden vanishing act, the girl always reappeared and often with something that would become the highlight reel of the year.
Poaching, that was the personal goal and ambition for Archana, a story she wanted to work for four years and finally got the funding approval from Sanjana herself, a pet project for both of them. After eight long years, TSBTD, The Story Behind The Deal, had enough clout to bring out valid reports that challenged de-facto establishment. Sanjana knew once Archana got involved it was going to be exposed in every conceivable way and sometimes at great risk to herself too. One never knew.

All she had to do was wait and wait she would.

[N D]

Chapter 2:

Alex:


Alex, Sanjana’s son woke up early into the morning, he pulled off the bed spread and stepped out of his girl friends bed room. He fished through his bag pulling out a cigarette. She had told him to go out to the terrace and smoke, when he wanted the previous night. She didn’t mind it then, maybe she wouldn’t mind it now.
It had been six long months since they started dating. Six long months. He had hoped things would happen soon, but it didn’t, she took all the sweet time she needed and that itself had seen through a semester and finally the previous night, he wasn’t even sure if he had done it right, he had the right feelings and the quiver, she too seemed to moan though she had bitten into the pillow to keep her moans muted,something he was surprised to see. Maybe this was the whole deal about sex, maybe it was because it was their first time and maybe he had seen too much porn making his expectations go awry.
Maybe what he had yesterday was sex, maybe whatever he had seen was wrong, he didn’t know, maybe it was just the first time and the two were tensed and he wasn’t sure if it even was sex. He lit a cigarette and took a deep puff blowing a thick cloud of smoke. The cold breeze of the morning blanketed him and he sat on the edge of the terrace, staring out at the sky. It was still four in the morning, he had slept a little after midnight yesterday.
As he puffed out a second cloud of cigarette he heard a pair of foot steps walking out to the terrace.
“Alex?” a surprised Disha asked.
He nodded his head, indicating he was smoking.
“That’s okay, she’s a heavy sleeper…”
Disha was Dona’s elder sister, employed in a tech company.
“I didn’t know you spent the night here…”
Alex smiled handing her the pack of smokes. Disha pulled a cigarette out and lit it, taking a puff and breathing out as though she was craving for one for a long time.
“So enjoyed…”
“What!” Alex turned around.
“You know…”
“She told you?”
“She’s been planning this for weeks… why do you think I stayed at my friends tonight…”
He didn’t know, he was told she had work.
He had an uncomfortable twitch, tapping the ash of his cigarette, taking a puff before he stared at Disha.
“If you must know, girls talk…” Disha added, “Well I don’t know about others, but she knew about guys I got home… when I was in college…”
“Oh okay…” he paused, taking another puff nervously, “Talk everything…”
“Most important stuff yes we sure do, I don’t know about her but I did… and I’m sure she too will…”
Alex stared back at the sky, the troubles he had moments ago were far better to what he was going through at that moment. Well if he had sex, of course he had, he’d only tell his best friend Dillan and that was that, just a hey, I finally did it. No details, nothing else. He thought such stuff were supposed to be personal. The way Disha spoke, things were going to be put out in open for bunch of friends to know and how many would those friends say, who knew.
Disha was five years elder to Dona, they could never be so very different, Dona was lean and slim, with a long beautiful hair, while Disha was a little curvy, with a round face. She was a bit shorter than Dona, few centimeters maybe something she made up wearing high heels. Alex had met her first time couple of months back, mid way through their dating life. He didn’t understand it then, but seemed to know and realise now. They had met at a coffee shop, she had showed up out of the blue, he now realised it was all planned, maybe Dona needed her sisters approval to move forward in a serious direction. He still clearly remembered it was three months before, just days after meeting Disha, Dona had kissed him in the college library. It was something far far above anything they had ever done before, apart from holding hands they never went any further. That was the first kiss. He knew the place and he was sure Dona knew the date and time, given how she was particular about remembering dates.
It was the third hour of the day, that is all he knew and remembered.
“You have another…”
He popped open the packet, she leaned over and pick a smoke. Despite the low light he could still see her cleavage clearly, he realised she wasn’t wearing a bra, who would wear one and sleep.
“For later…” she quipped as she walked away. His eyes followed her for few steps before he realised what he was doing and distracted himself, staring back at the sky.
Disha was cute, as a button, with long hair to her waist and light brown golden eyes which made the way she stare a bit terrifying apart from that she was a sweet person and they had met several times over the last few months. Alex even remembered he had met her boy friend, Phillip.
He stubbed the cigarette and flung it across the wall to the nearby drain. He then popped open his mouth refreshner and sprayed it a few times before walking back to the bedroom. Snuggling close to Dona, he knew he would not sleep but he loved the heat of her body, maybe he could get lucky if she woke up early.


Dillon:

Alex had no such luck, but Alex’s friend, Dillon had been more lucky. He was stirring in his sleep struggling to find peace, the night was cold and the air conditioner in the room whirred at a normal twenty six. Yet he knew it was not something that he usually felt.
“Fuck!” he grunted as he sat up, the sleep weighing down on his eye lids, but he could make the shape of a woman, between his legs.
“Are you crazy…” he grunted.
“Shut up and lay down…”
He shook his had, what was he complaining about, he lay down pulling up more pillows under his head.
How long had it been?
Few weeks now, few long weeks and he was beginning to miss her, he hadn’t expected things to happen this early into the day, but who was he to complain, what was he complaining about. Her head bobbed up and down and his shaft glittered in the thin light of the sun. A soft wave of quiver ran down his body, his stomach tightened as he felt the pressure build between his legs, he shut his eyes and groaned softly.
“Good morning…” she added, he managed a faint smile of recognition. She jerked him a bit, running her wet fingers up and down his shaft as she straightened her hair. She then stood up, on the bed, slipping off her t-shirt and boxers, standing naked in front of him. Silently she stepped over him, sitting down, bringing her cunt right to his face, Dillon slipped a bit down, making it easy for her to press her cunt on his face. His warm wet tongue felt the heat between her legs as she supported herself leaning on forward. He grabbed her waist as she moved back and forth in tune with the way he ran his tongue deeper and deeper inside her. A soft grunt and a moan and he could taste her juices flooding down.
Fuck she was never this fast, never, maybe she too missed, she too had missed him, he held her tighter raising his head as she quickened the way she moved back and forth.
“Fuck…” she grunted ever so softly, before finally pulling back and sitting next to him.
“Use your fingers…” she added with bated breath, he had forgotten all about the fact that his cock was hard and thick and turned around just to hurt himself a bit, he ignored the pain as he licked his two fingers. He knew how she loved it, she sat on the bed, parting her legs and he thrust one finger after another and started softly quickening and slowing his pace, an erratic unpredictable rhythm but a method to it. She loved it that way, she loved to drift between the high and lows and she knew she’d need it to delay her pleasure as much as possible. Her body began to quiver and he soon pulled out his fingers going down licking her clitoris much to her rage which was made clear with few grunts and gasps when he realised she was back wanting his fingers, he sat up again, thrusting it inside her, this time she held onto his wrists forcing him to increase the pace. He pushed her hand aside and she went back to grabbing the edges of the bed, feeling his fingers deep inside her.
“There… there… there…” she moaned softly, more like a whisper, “Ah… ungghhh… whoooa there… just like taht… don..do..stop…stttppp…”
He continued before he felt her quiver, her head slumping low and her hair falling all over her naked breasts, her breath erratic and she quivered as he felt a fresh burst of juices on his fingers.
“Fuck… that felt good…” she grunted as she looked around, trying to gather her surroundings, the sun was finally up and a thin ray of light passed through a small section were his curtain was torn.
“Fuck!” she grunted as she stepped off the bed, pushing off his hand with her legs.
“Are you going to leave me like this…” he said pointing at his still erect cock, oozing precum.
She grabbed her t-shirt and boxers, “Are you kidding, mom would be awake…” she whispered as she dashed out of the room.
That was his sex life. If having a penetration was what one would technical sex, then he was still a virgin, but he had gone down on her, she had few times, very rare, she had used her hand couple of time and he had used his finger more time. It was always like that, she never stayed back to finish him, even the first time they were together, it had been like that, she stopped when she realised he was close and instead kissed him.
Anita was Dillon’s elder sister, at twenty six she was elder to him by seven years. She was his mother’s first child, born out of wed lock and was raised away at a distant relatives house were she was given birth. It wasn’t until his father had passed away in a car accident that Anita first came to live with him. He had seen her many times as a kid, played hide and seek many times. He didn’t know it then, but many years later when he was old enough he knew, he had just finished his tenth and he was comparing mark lists with Anita’s and he saw in mother’s coloumn, his Mother’s name was written while in her certificate it was the Maiden name.
He had known it then, though it would take few more months before his mother finally told him about it and all he said was he knew, revealing how he had found out.
He had never any problem, wise for his age, much thanks to the early demise of his father. He never had any issue about his mother’s past and as he put it, it was in the past years before he was even born.
Like her Mother Anita too had fallen in love with a professor in college, they had got secretly married and had lived together, only later did she realise the man of his dreams was a drug addict and preferred alcohol to her. When the domestic abuse started, she split, filed for divorce and had gone to work in the US for few years. She was a smart student, topping her class and she saw the opportunity to finish her masters thanks to the alimony. It had only made her aim bigger in life and at twenty six she was the youngest Project Head for a reputed firm with a huge income. Within a year she had purchased a house of her own, with the incentive amount and bonus she got, it wasn’t particularly big house, but the location and proximity to her office made it an ideal place, above all it was an independent house, in a residential area, with a spacious front yard and a small kitchen garden. Though she still used an old second hand Mitsubishi Lancer and had gifted him a Royal Enfiled Motorcycle, he knew she had plans to buy a bigger and better car. He was looking for that day when he’d finally have a car of his own like his friend Alex.
But now, all that was in his mind was to finish were she had left him, stepping back onto the bed, he grabbed a handful of the tissue paper.
He would have to change how things were done and change it soon, this was frustrating to the very core.

Ranjini:

The most successful actress in these parts of the country stayed on the terrace of her house, it was six in the morning and she had yet to go to sleep. The glass of scotch glittered in her grip, a lit cigarette burned without her even having a puff, that was her life.
It wasn’t till few months back, it was filled with dreams and hopes and she had a path to follow, she had high ambitions. Yet it all came crashing for no fault of her, or maybe it was her fault too. She trusted the wrong man.

“Ah! You started early today or what…” a familiar voice pulled her out of her reverie and self loathing.
“No dad…” she added, “I’ve yet to sleep…”
He softly patted her hair, an affectionate kiss on her forehead.
“If you are not drinking that…” he grabbed the glass from her and sat down on the free chair, “Been here whole night…” he asked as he leaned forward, pointing at the cigarette she held. She handed it to him. He tapped the ash into the tray, he took a puff as he leaned back on the chair.
He didn’t say a word, whatever he had to tell he had told it repeatedly over the past few months and he had run out of words. He had given up hope on his daughter ever returning to what she was few months ago and worse he was helpless, all the power and influence and there was nothing he could do. He took a sip, it was not his habit to drink this early in the morning, but a sip less would make it better for her and that was all he wanted.

“Sweetheart…” how could he not say, he could not see his own blood and flesh burn away, consumed by fire within, like a tree stuck by lightning. How could he not speak, “Why don’t you go to the estate dear…”
He knew her reply without being told, a nod of her head, not even looking at him. Just staring at the boring city.
He sighed, knowing he would not get an answer today, he’d have to come another morning. He would, it didn’t matter, all that mattered to him was his daughter. He knew the pain of betrayal, he knew the pain of loss and he knew it all very well.
The scars were still far from healed.
He didn’t disturb her as he finished her drink, in one gulp, one peg was nothing to him, he had once been an alcoholic. The actor turned politician had a life now had an ambition now and one day he’d become the Chief Minister of the state he was so loved, respected and adored in. One day.
But that was not today!
Today his life was all about his daughter. She wasn’t always like that, a successful actress who had attained levels of fame and popularity only few had reached, at thirty she had moved from being an actor to a producer, two small budget movies that had become overnight sensation and made a shit load of money. The production house she started, an eye for talent and brilliant script and a knack of getting work done in time, in an industry were ego’s of small so called stars had poisoned just about everything. She had mastered the art of man management, getting things done in a shoe string budget and on time most often. The most important recipe of her success.
That was not all, Ranjini had an astute sense to look into the future and know how she would have to adopt and change to be successful. All that in three years of her life. Above all she had brought a failing actor back to stardom and then super stardom. They had fallen in love and Ranjan knew when he saw a woman in love, she reminded him of her mother, so very much.
The small movies she made were huge success and not just that, she sold it with a huge profit to streaming services being among the first production house to make their entire movie catalogue available. A business woman though she had never studied business in her life, she had bought the rights of many old movies, he had thought she was mad but she still did, almost putting all her savings and profits in obtaining the rights of old movies, many successful many not so successful. She then started her own streaming app catering to one half the country and it’s people, when studios spent insane amounts to get new movies she bought old movie rights for cheap prices some even free when she ordered a dozen or two. It took a while before the app had become successful and she now had a business venture that was worth close to seventy million USD.
Her business acumen showed when she negotiated with telephone service providers to provide her app free of cost and a special plan for movie goers. Klassiks, spelled the way the street would spell, had become a successful app and today service providers came knocking to get her app on their devices. She had tied up with manufacturers of mobile and tablet devices to have her app as default. While all this happened in one side, her fiance, Murali was sleeping around with his co-stars. Worse she came to know about it like rest of the world, through a television channel. She had called off the wedding the same evening and that was her last public appearance. It was six months to date, though her production house and streaming service ran successful cause of the work she had done months prior to that, it was only a matter of time before even that too failed.

It was only a matter of time.

[N D]

Anita:


Anita was never one to be attracted to her own step brother, not till she met Michael during her time in US.
Michael had stepped into her life soon after her divorce from her husband, it wasn’t even a marriage, something that hadn’t even lasted a year, a time she had long forgotten and moved on. An African American, Michael was tall and devastatingly handsome. He was also a genius in his own way, a young Ivy College student he was the founder of a dozen soft ware apps, he was also a major contributor to data base security being a hacker himself, he was also involved with various agencies to make sure that materials of disturbing nature was being kept away from social media and from public access.
He hailed from a well to do family, his father had married his own business partners wife and had adopted the beautiful young daughter of his late partner. A business man to the core, his father’s eyes were on the fifty percent share his partners wife had and anyone who knew about him would have told he had planned the marriage long time ago, knowing about the terminal illness his partner had.
His affair with his partners wife had been happening much before his business partner had passed away. Married to her he held the votes of the company board, outweighing the investors and above all he knew how to keep it in his hand.
Unknown to Michael Sr, his son had chosen his father’s way when it came to betraying. He was already in a relation with his stepmother before he had finished college and it was once during her stay with the family over a Thanks Giving weekend she had seen what she had only seen in porn movies. Michael’s step-mother blowing him off in the family pool. She had to hurry back to his room, but he had already seen her through the window. They had talked that night.
“A pussy available and not used is a pussy wasted”
That was his reply, his father was never fond of the woman, he’d not even have married her had it not been to cement his hold on the company shares. The woman was going to break the marriage when she realised about it, but it was too late for her, he had pledged her part of the shares to expand the firm, start new offices in few foreign locations. The business was booming and the value of her shares had only gone up and she knew it was more profitable to be married to him than applying for divorce and loosing all the shares. Michael Sr was good at making money, far better than her late husband and he was also better in bed.
Her opinion had changed the first time she was with Michael Jr, the son fucked better and drove her wilder and wilder with desires. They had spent many a nights together and to this day the relation continued though the age difference was much higher.
“What about her daughter…”
“She never told me anything, I mean the mother… but yes maybe one day… I’m sure my father would agree after all the shares are going to be with her right…”
Greed above morals.
That was what capitalism did to the social fabric of a society, it put money over anything, one could market it as dreams or selling dreams but end of the day it was all about the Benjamin’s. That was life.
Such was life.

“You have known it for a while, haven’t you and we are still together…” Michael had said.
She grinned, “Well I’ll be gone soon and it’s too late to find a replacement one that I like, so irrespective of what you think, I’m here for the cock…”
“It’s just an act you like all actions some you feel good… some not so…some you have to. Remember if the Marburg virus ever got out we are all dead…”

It was when she had finally returned home and a week had gone over and Michael had called she had first looked at Dillan in a way Michael would have looked at his step-sister, inappropriate.
Dillan was tall, just like his friend Alex, a little above six feet and he, just like Alex was an avid biker. The only two similarities they shared with Michael Jr. Bikes and Frame. Alex was intelligent and sharp while Dillan made up for his lack of intelligence with sheer hard work, if she had a choice she’d have gone with Alex, but paraphrasing Michael, ‘A cock not used is a cock wasted’.
She and Dillan had always been good friends they loved each other’s company, he loved bikes she loved driving, they had similar taste in sports and had a mutual hatred for politics and politicians. They would veg out binge watching television series one after the other on a rainy day, both hating to go out into a city when the rains were heavy and the drains overflowed.
It was one weekend when their mother had gone to an development seminar, she was a personality coach, who conducted team exercises and motivational seminars to executives. She had met with fair amount of success in life and had carved a niche client segment for herself which gave her regular business year to year. The two siblings were glued watching the PL football match, it had rained the whole day and was pretty cold, they had spent considerable amount of the evening getting the clothes and vessels they had forgotten to pick up evening. It was only when their mother called they both had hurried out to pick it up, the down pour was intense and it had ruined all the dry clothes, throwing some of them on to the terrace, into a crumbled mess. She had spent the rest of the evening washing the dirty clothes and when the rains had settled she had spread it again hoping it’d not rain later at night. Dillan had helped her all the way and late after midnight when the Premiere League went live they were glued to it.
The sudden chill in the wind announced another rain and they hurried to get the clothes inside not wanting another late night run in the rain. It had already started drizzling by the time they had managed to gather the clothes. She had got wet just like him and she walked in to change into a fresh t-shirt, deciding not to wear a bra. She had caught him staring at her breasts when she celebrated a goal or two. She was also sure he would steal a glance or two when she bent over to pick up her packet of smokes or something else that fancied her.
The window was open, it was always open, especially when the two smoked inside the house, that was the only source of fresh air, that and the front door.
“Please get the blanket from my room da…” she added, without turning around.
“Go get it yourself…”
“Please… pretty please…”
“The second half will start soon… why didn’t you tell that during the break…”
“Please” she tried again.

He hurried up and dashed into the room, pulling out the blanket in one yank and ran back. He joined just in time as the second half began. His team was loosing and all he could do was hope they’d win.
She wrapped the blanket on her and was glued, much of the match went while they shared each other’s cigarette.
“So… how is Dona?” She asked remembering a name he had once mentioned during their chat a while ago.
“She must be fine, ask Alex…”
“She’s not your girl…”
“She’s not even Alex’s girl…”
“Ah!” She paused puffing a cloud of smoke, “So you seeing someone or just waiting for the right person…”
He burst out laughing, “There is nothing called the right person…”
“I agree…” she replied, “Look at my case itself…”
“Let’s not even go there…” He added.
“I was stupid to believe the sex was great… fuck now I realise it wasn’t even worth it… trust me never fall for the one who you loose your virginity to… you think it’s heaven… it’s not…” she puffed a cloud of smoke, “Get a second opinion of few before you decide…”
She didn’t see him, but she could sense he froze at her mention of sex. They had never spoken about it, the most they had discussed was boy friend and girl friends that too in moderation and with respect.
For a while an uncomfortable silence followed, before he asked, “So who helped you figure it out…”
“Michael…”
“Michale Who?” He asked.
“Haven’t I told you about Mike?”
He shook his head.
She pulled out her mobile, “Let me see if there is a decent image of his…” she pulled out one in which they had gone to Miami Beach, she wore a two piece bikini top and short that and he wore a boxer shorts in that.
“Oh wow…” Dillon added, “I didn’t think you would have dated an African American”
“What the fuck do you mean?” She asked.
He squirmed uncomfortably, “You know what everyone says about them…”
“What?” She asked.
“You know…”
“Oh you mean big dicks…”
He didn’t respond but she could see he awaited a reply.
“No he was just average… he just knew how to use it well…” she added.
He just grunted putting on a fake smile.
“What about you, still waving the wand yourself or got lucky…”
He grinned at how she had put it, choosing not to reply and just give an answer with an embarrassing smile.
“Don’t sit there and get a cold, we both got wet…” she held the blanket up but before that she had also made sure she had lowered the boxers just enough to give him a view of her panties maybe that would unsettle him a bit and just maybe he’d just join.
He decided on the latter, snuggling under the blanket but staying at a respectful distance. As the match progressed she eased closer and closer towards him and he tried moving further and further till he could not any more. The match had long got over and they were scanning watching the league recap, highlights of the matches that had happened that day, two of them.
“What about Alex…”
“Yes…”
“Oh good for him… at least one of you have done something…”
“No… I meant yes what about him…”
“Is he too like you…”
“Mmmhmmm…” he murmured.
“No wonder… birds of the same flock…”
“He’ll soon get it going with Dona…”
“Oh yes I forgot…” She added, “I feel sorry for you… I honestly do…”
“I’m 19, I have time with me…”
“Sweetheart… I know half a dozen guys who said that… if I’m not wrong all they have got is good at shaking…” she added, rolling up her fingers as though she was jerking a cock.
He didn’t reply.
She pulled up the blanket covering her neck and snuggling closer to him, he wasn’t expecting that and he was hardly able to hide his excitement.
“Shit! I’m sorry…” Anita quipped, “I should have guessed…” she added feeling his excited member on the small of her back.
She could feel him pull back but he didn’t step out, maybe this was his way of saying he too wanted to know. That was all she pushed him that evening.
It wasn’t till next weekend when they were glued together watching PL, only this time their mother was home, in the adjacent room, screaming at the two every time they celebrated a goal.
“Get the blanket da…” she added, pointing at the open window, it hadn’t rained, it wasn’t cold, she had stepped out side for a smoke and he didn’t complain getting the blanket and joining her outside for sharing the cigarette.
That week went by without anything happening, they just sat on the couch till the match got over. Maybe they were acutely aware their mother was in the house and knew the boundaries they couldn’t cross.
It was Dillan who made the next move, a weekday, a Wednesday if her memory didn’t betray her, he had walked in to her room.
“I’m watching the new Netflix series…”
“I heard it has got good reviews…”
“Alex saw it and he said it was good…”
She checked the time, it was a little after eleven in the evening, “Mom?” she was curious.
“She has an early day.”
They both knew what that meant, her mother would be fast asleep and they could be in front of the television, as long as they kept the volume low, audible enough they’d not be disturbed.
“I didn’t know that…” Anita had lied as she, “Go ahead, let me refresh… pick the pack of smokes…”
“Would you need the blanket…”
“Take it…” she replied as she stepped into the washroom, she didn’t shut the door, she heard him step out of the room. She undid her bra, pulled down the PJ’s she wore, relieved herself and then grabbed a noodle string top she wore when she usually slept. She wore a boxer shorts after slipping back into her panties.
She joined him in the front hall just as he played the show.
“Would you want the couch or the floor…” he asked.
Smart she figured, if she chose the couch, he’d know that there was no action.
“Are we smoking…” she asked, flipping the ball to his court.
“I’ll get the incense sticks…” he added.
“Okay then….” She pulled down the two head rests from the couch and grabbed the blanket, thankfully it was cold and it had rained all evening. He lit the sticks and placed it at the four corners of the room, making sure to keep it on top of a paper.
He then joined in his place, behind her snuggling under the blanket without being invited. As the series started, they snuggled closer, this time he wasn’t moving backwards, he stayed still.
He sure had thought it through, he wasn’t one who thought on his feet. She figured he must have planned it for a while, inviting her to watch a series, on a day when he knew their mother went to sleep early, cause of the team meet every Wednesday. He had asked about the blanket, given her the choice of couch and floor, he had thought it through very well as the first half of the one hour first episode pulled to a close, she lit a cigarette, taking a puff, turning around to hand him the cigarette. She then playfully itched her back in an awkward manner.
“Help me please…”
“What…”
“Back…” she replied.
He hesitated a bit as he itched her back, through the fabric of her noodle top. She knew he’d be willing to do more.
“Enough” she murmured as she blew a cloud of smoke.
He pulled his hand back, she snuggled closer towards him, feeling his cock on the back of her bums. She didn’t complain just remaining still, wondering if he was going to pull back, move his hips. He didn’t, he waited her to say something.
She didn’t utter a word.

It were as though time had frozen still, conspiring to see how far the two would go, the worlds had stopped even the Netflix show had stuck, streaming downloading.
She felt the heat, the throbbing and the waves of shock her brother was going through. She playfully pulled down her boxers and her panties letting her left butt free. He followed suite, though few seconds late, if it were not for the blanket he could have seen. She felt the quiver as his manhood rested on her exposed bum, she didn’t complain.
“Sorry…” he grunted as she pulled back, she felt the hot wetness on her bum, a tiny bit, just a drop.
She knew what it was, she didn’t want him to think otherwise. She turned around, a quick move, facing him. Her hand reached between his legs, between their fused bodies.
“It’s okay…” she added, “Just precum not what you think…”
He didn’t know.
Fuck! She grunted.
“What is that…” he murmured.
Unlike him she could think on her feet, “Like the two minute trailer before the full movie…” she added.
He had got it.
“It’s normal…”
She nodded, squeezing the head of his cock, fuck it was thick, thicker than she had expected.
“It doesn’t happen when I… when I…” he murmured.
“No it doesn’t…” she rubbed her thumb at the tip of his cock, flicking the eye gently wiping her fingers on his shorts.
“It doesn’t cause you are not excited for a long time… you understand…”
He seemed to figure it out, nodding his head.
As the tv-series streamed lighting the room again, she could see his face, pale. She bit her lower lip.
“You want me to help you…”
“Will you…” he asked with dis belief.
“Don’t look at me like that… we threw away the boundaries long back…”
He nodded his head.
She reached between her leg and awkwardly held his cock, as though the lord of thunder trying to lift his hammer. Her soft hands ran up and down his thick shaft, she could her his breath, quicken as she increased the pace the best way she could.
This wasn’t helping, she figured, her hands would ache probably, unless and she felt him quiver, his body go limb and thick strings of semen shot up on her pink top, she continued jerking him till she had got every ounce of what he had to give.
She moved back, her hand was a mess so was her t-shirt, even the floor wasn’t spared. She stared at him, “Look at the mess you have left…”
With him still trying to find his bearings he eyed her t-shirt, it was wet in places. He murmured a sorry.
Anita walked up went to the kitchen, grabbed the napkin tissue wiping herself first and then cleaning her hands. She then grabbed a dry set of tissue and walked back. He had already sat up, gulping down water. She carefully peeled off long pieces of tissue and wiped his manhood, which was turning limb as she did that. His boxers were next and the floor.
“You cum a lot…”
He nodded his head.
That was how things had began between them and yet she hadn’t gone all the way, maybe one day, somehow she had lived in the bubble that whatever had happened was only getting wet in a beach, it was okay, as long as she didn’t swim in the ocean.
That was what she told herself.


Archana:

Archana stared out of the old rot filled room, it stunk of rotting wood, old boots and rusted tools, it was a shed or would have been a shed, that was in the process of being converted to living quarter for the guards. It didn’t matter to her at that moment, she hadn’t had a bath in two days and she felt like getting out of the stenchy clothes and jumping into the calm lake she had seen the previous evening.
Outside her captors, well not captors, it was their job, stop people from entering deep forest, was trying to reach their office.
She could hear them call out,
‘6 to 1… Hallo do you hear us… 6 to 1…”
Six was probably the station house number and one in all probability was the forest rangers office in the outskirts of the forest she had visited two days ago to check for a pass that she knew she’d never get, yet she had to try.
“We can’t keep her here…” the voice she recognised as the taller of the two guards, spoke, repeating it like he had done a dozen times since morning.
The younger one seemed to be more casual about the intruder, of course they couldn’t keep her here, she wasn’t even legally allowed to be here. Forests were protected regions as per the government rules and anyone found wandering in deep forest could be legally persecuted and would face severe jail time if they were found guilty of poaching. She didn’t come here to poach, she was here to find a story about poaching, that was what she had been doing for good three weeks, talking to people in the neighbouring villages, making friends and contacts, but none spoke much. It was like there was a veil of secrecy surrounding that.
Why she wanted to know, would find out.
The door to her rotting room opened and it was the shorter guy, he was sweating from his head to toe, he held a steel mug of steaming hot tea, devoid of the milk.
“This is all we got…” he added handing it to her.
“Can I atleast come out…I’ve been in this rotten room for a whole day…” Archana replied, “I’ll fall sick and it will make it even more difficult for you…”
The taller seemed to recognise the word sick as he turned around staring at her, the short guy looked at the one who was obviously giving orders around there. The tall guy nodded.
The shorter guard stepped aside and Archana finally took a breath of relief, that was a small success, at least now they were talking.
She grabbed her back pack pulling out the pack of smokes and stepped out. She pulled out a cigarette, her first since yesterday noon, she took a deep puff and eased as she blew a cloud of smoke. The two guards were staring at her, the way she smoked, she fished out the pack of smokes from her pocket and flung it on the old coat. The taller popped open the packet he showed the remaining three cigarettes.
“I have another pack…” Archana replied.
He gleefully took a cigarette and so did his junior the shorter guy.
“This is good tea…” she said raising the mug, “I’m Archana…”
“Rat…” the shorter guy smiled, “He is Paul…”
“Rat?” Archana stared at him.
“Long story…” he smiled.
“He ratted on his friends in church…” the elder added, “The name sticks… and he is short…”
Archana smiled.
She could sense the way the Paul, the taller of the guard was looking at her suspiciously.
“Why are you here…” he asked, staring at her, “In the forest…”
She never revealed her true purpose, ever to anyone, it was like finding an elusive treasure, she always asked around elusive questions trying her best to never ask any direct questions.
“I’m a student of MA History… intending to do my PhD.” She replied.
She could see the other two were least interested.
“I want to know and write about the tribe here…” She added, something they could understand.
“There are many who have mixed with the general population… can’t you ask them?” Paul replied, her lie had done nothing to ease his suspicion, he still had the air about him.
“Yes there are… I’ve been meeting with them for past few months… but they don’t say anything…”
“They will not…” Rat added, “Once you leave, you have to leave your past and life behind…” Rat continued, “You can leave anytime you want especially this past many years, no one will stop you. The elders earlier questioned such people, now they don’t even do that, the door is always open. Everyone wants a better life.”
“And yet there is some charm about a tribe that has been living like them for three hundred years.”
“Even more…” Paul replied, staring at the thick cloud of smoke from his cigarette, “They are lot older than that, the tribe… most tribes..”
“I know… I just want to know more.”
“If it is the tribe you came here for you won’t get anything, didn’t you talk to the ranger.”
“He said the same thing, he was willing to give a pass and even take me to meet few of those who left the tribe.”
“No one gets a pass…” Rat added.
“No he said he’d take me to the tribe.”
Rat stared at her and then looked at Paul, who too had turned around to look at her.
“He won’t go to the tribe…” Paul added, “They don’t like him.”
She didn’t know that, but that made sense, the way the forest Ranger had done everything to make sure she didn’t venture, the way he called them Barbarians who kill children.
Much of it were not the truth, she knew it, she had read the books about the tribes and the forest, it was not like she woke up one morning deciding to go out and write a story, she had done her research, gone through articles after articles, whatever book that were written about the tribes, not many few and those too were biased given it was written well before the country had got it’s freedom.
“So… why don’t you take me to your office…”
“We can’t leave the post…” Rat replied.
“You could call in…”
He pointed at the radio set, “No signal…”
Paul repaired, “It’s not always on…”
And in that reply lay the questions she really wanted to ask, but couldn’t, simply because her purpose for the time being was not to look for poaching, but the tribe and that was what she would be directing the two to if she had a chance.
“And what will you tell them…” Paul asked.
“I stepped into the forest a day back, chased by a tusker and lost my way…”
“Why did you step in the forest?”
“Tribes…”
“That story won’t sell… they can charge you with anything and they will…”
She knew the risks were high, but there were ways to establish her ID and people who’d get her out. Her goal was good but method was wrong and she knew that very well, the most she would be punished for was a fine and she was ready for that, her office would bill that.
She didn’t want to tell that, any powerplay at that moment would be negative to her, this was one to listen and gather the information, but one thing rattled her, why were they not taking her back to the village as they should have a day back. She still didn’t understand that.
Being a journalist she always thought in one direction, she had a story somewhere in what the two were not speaking. And the more she thought the more it was narrowing in on the story she was after and somehow for good or bad the two were involved.
“Are we going back today…”
“It’s a ten hour trek…”
Archana knew it was probably more like five or six hours trek with a decent break in between, after all that was all she took before running for her life from the wild tusker had dropped a bomb on her best laid plans.
Fuck the tusker.

“I don’t know about you two… but I need a bath… I badly need a bath…”
Rat stared at Paul, who was strangely silent.
“We will bring water…” Paul added.
“There is a bloody lake here… I know to swim.”
Paul remained quiet.
“Evening…” he finally added.
“Why not now…”
“I’ve to go for rounds…”
“You didn’t go in the morning…”
“That makes it more important…”

He didn’t leave for round for a good hour and when he finally did, he wore his camouflage guard uniform, holstered the double barrel gun, checked if it was loaded and then disappeared into the woods.
“What’s for lunch…”
“Yesterday’s left over…”
“Build a fire… I have some bread and noodles…”
He stared at her, that had said more than she needed to tell, she wasn’t here for few days, she had got her sleeping bag, her tent and food. She was for the long haul, what was she planning. Paul had been thinking about it since he had stopped her the previous day. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t trust what he could never put a finger on.
The noodles was good, mixed with the previous evenings meat made it heavier, she had cracked some eggs too to go with it and it only added to the taste, they were half way through when Paul returned after a good one hour round, famished and hungry the three sat down for lunch.
She had noticed how Paul hadn’t taken the radio caller along with him. It didn’t surprise her but she was sure moving towards the only natural conclusion. Paul didn’t want her to be roaming through the forest and if she did, she’d probably see something she shouldn’t and she was sure it was what she wasn’t meant to see. What was Paul hiding? How involved was he?
As she silently chewed on the goat meat she was sure he knew more than he let know after all he called the forest his home. She silently went on munching on the odd mix of deep fried mutton with little minced meat mixed with eggs and spices all mixed with the dry noodles she had made, munching on dry bread.
Despite the odd position she was in, she had figured it was better to be in the front line of the action than back in her village. Here she could sense the deliberate attempt to hide things, things that on very rare occasions and tumble over to the main stream media, catching the national attention. Such news tumbled out on very rare occasion but it was not just limited to one forest in the country. The frequency of what was being let out had trickled down in past few years, she had gone through the library archive, a decade of local newspapers and she had found close to one hundred stories, the last few years strangely it had been quiet.
Anyone with a functional IQ could guess something was happening deep underneath the whole thing but she needed to know the whole truth and she needed a way to find it.
Archana had finished with her lunch, washing her plate and the two vessels that had been used to cook the meal in the bucket of water, she turned around to Paul,
“I need to take a bath… you don’t understand…” she added as she put the plate and utensils were they belonged in the cupboard in the small dark kitchen.
He nodded his head.
“He will take you in a while…”
“The lake is not safe…” Rat added.
“Were do you guys take bath…”
He pointed up stream, “Smaller pond… easier…”
“Pond… you mean I can’t swim…”
“No swimming… small pond.” Rat added.
She nodded her head, anything to get the shit out of her skin, she needed to feel fresh.
“If we are not leaving today can I at least ask for a better place to sleep… that room stinks…”
Paul looked at Rat and then nodded his head.
The platform was a raised concrete structure that stood a good fifteen to twenty feet above, built to withstand any tusker attack that was the safest quarter, there were rooms, storage rooms below, but they were needed for ration, there was enough for one person to sleep but it wasn’t safe given how reptiles would find it easy to crawl through the drains and call a warm comfortable store room their home.
A good hour had past and the sun had gone down when Rat finally stepped out to her and said if she wanted to take a bath, she could come with him.
It was odd bathing by the lake, she had done it few years ago when she had gone trekking with friends, Rat had got the bucket and washing soap and he got busy by the lake washing clothes, she had noticed more clothes figuring out he was doing laundry for Paul too.
“Is Paul the boss…” Archana asked as she sat down on a rock, with her feet immersed in the small stream.
“He is elder to me…” Rat said as she rinsed the shirt in the flowing stream, soap bubble streaming down, it was odd seeing soapy water in a stream in the middle of the forest, but then she knew it’d all go to a river somewhere, even the huge lake streamed into a nearby river and from there to the big one, the one that flowed through few states.
“And?” She stared at him, drying to see even tiny glimpse of a concern, suspicion.
“Nothing else, he got me the job…”
“Does it pay well…” she asked.
“Better than nothing right.”

She had often wondered what her next course would be had she not taken up after journalism. The cocky woman had finished engineering but she couldn’t see herself seated behind a screen typing away till her fingers hurt. She preferred to walk around, get into the heart of a trouble and see if she could contribute. It often took one who had a cold heart to do that, disassociate from what was happening around and look at it rationally, look at it in way as though no emotions were involved. It had helped her in the long run, knowing things that would have put others at great discomfort, seeing things that would make someone puke their guts out, they all knew it. Such was the life she lived, disassociating from things around her, that happened that didn’t happen, the tragedy, the comedy of life. It all took a strange sort of person and she was built in that mold.  
“I’m almost done…” Rat broke her reverie, “Get your clothes washed if you have to… before it sets… animals roam around.”
“The tusker…”
“He won’t climb this high unless he has to… even then he knows it’s dangerous, they are lot smarter.” He added with a sense of pride as though he sided with them and not the two legged species.
“Okay… when you’re done…”
“I’ll be around…” Rat added pointing down the hill, “Once you are done… come down…”
“If an animal attacks?” Archana asked.
He smiled, “Don’t worry, those that can attack you chances are it’d be a quick death.”
Somehow that was comforting for her to known. She had always wanted a quick death, if she ever had to choose, who wouldn’t, it’s akin to dying in sleep, one minute you are alive and the next you are not. Just that simple. What was not simple was washing her own clothes. She hadn’t done that, the old fashioned way, before the days of washing machine, hitting the clothes with a wooden block to squeeze the dirty water out, scrub it and brush it, wrists were beginning to ache and she figured the best was to have the stench of soap than hurt her wrist.
She looked around and the dense forest stared back at her, there was a small clearing, the path they had walked up to the pond, it wasn’t a pond it was just were water was contained a little more as it streamed down to join the lake. She undid the towel she wore around, taking one looking making sure there was no one, stripped herself and then stepped into the waist high water, the rocks weren’t slippery as she had expected it in the pond, soft after years of erosion, she sat down feeling the cold embrace of water.

Maybe it was cause much of her life she had grown up in the hills surrounded by woods and the occasional deer or wild bear crossed into the human habitat, a twig breaking stood out. She had heard it couple of time, ever since she out ran the tusker she had even seen a dark figure disappear in the woods just moments before the double barrel gun belonging to Paul was held to her face. Anything out of ordinary. She had been having the feeling that she was being watched, observed, shadowed. Hearing things, seeing things that wasn’t right. Maybe it was her feeling, a wild animal wouldn’t have done that, but at that moment she had heard two distinct sounds from two different opposite direction, neither of it were an animal and one of it, she was sure it was Rat, the idiot had hidden behind bushes and the barrel of the gun he carried stood out like a diamond in a coal mine. It was very rare nature had straight lines, straight like a barrel. She knew why he was there and she didn’t mind stepping out of the water, facing him, taking all her time as she dried her hair with the bath towel. She took sweet time to dry herself, making sure she lingered a bit longer than needed to wipe her legs, with her wet hair falling all the way down the tip of her hair dancing in the ripples of the water.
Behind the bushes, Rat had his cock out and he was working on himself.

[N D]

Ranjini: