Adultery Foggy Night in India by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The argument got louder as the guy walked out of the room, followed by a fat woman in her 50s, presumably his mother.

"I am telling you, I will be back soon."

"Nonsense! Who will look after the dhaba? Just ask her to phone someone." she noticed me standing there and glared at me. I wasn't sure what to say to her. Obviously, he wouldn't have told her the truth about the quid pro quo.

"I told you, there is no network." he walked down the steps and was next to me. He then noticed the old man. "And grandpa is awake."

The woman walked close to me and gave me a stern look.

"500 rupees." she said.

"What?"

"My son is an idiot, being the good samaritan at the expense of business. But you look like you can afford 500 rupees."

I had no idea what this woman was saying. Yes, I could afford 500 rupees. My boss would have approved a voucher for a hundred times that to get me to Meerut. But 500 rupees for what exactly?

She took my confused silence for refusal.

"Okay, 300. Or he stays here."

The guy was unlocking his bicycle.

"Ma, don't be so greedy." he yelled.

I quickly reached into my purse and fished out a 500 rupee note. The woman snatched it from my hand and walked towards her room.

"Don't be too late!" she said and slammed the door shut.

He pushed the bicycle with his hand and asked me to follow him. We walked about 50 feet when he gave me the bicycle and said,

"Just a minute. I have to give grandpa some instructions."

The skinny old man who was now trying to stand up, listened as the guy whispered something in his ear. He then looked at me and nodded. The boy walked back to me, took the bicycle and led me to the road. He threw his leg over it and lowered his bony butt on the hard underwear shaped seat.

"Sit."

"Where?"

"On the bar obviously."

I hadn't sat on a bicycle bar since I was a kid. It took me a while to stabilize my butt on that cold metallic bar. His stubble rubbed against my cheek as he grabbed the handle and started pedaling. We rode on the highway for about 200 meters past what remained of my car. Then he turned onto a dirt track between the trees into the fog. Another 100 meters or so and we were at a thatched clay hut, about 20 feet by 15 feet. I got off the bicycle and he propped it against a tree. My eyes had gotten used to the darkness by now.

"Here?" I asked and he nodded.

The hut's door was a sheet of old cardboard. He moved it aside, led me in and "closed" it again. The room was completely dark. And it was colder than outside. Even with my multiple layers, I felt a slight chill. Then I heard the sound of a match being struck as he lit a kerosene lantern hanging from the roof. The hut was filled with dim yellow light from the oil flame.

It seemed to be a storage of sorts. There was firewood piled up in a corner with some wooden crates. There was a rusty old iron cupboard a few feet away from me. And a khatiya, which is a cot with a wooden frame and ropes, propped up against it.

As I was looking around, suddenly the kid lunged at me, pushing me against the clay wall. His fingers struggle with the zipper of my jacket for a few seconds before he opened it. He was about half a foot shorter than me, so his kisses landed on my neck and shoulder. His hands then slipped under my sweater and my top and started rolling them up. Soon he had rolled them up to under my armpits and my bra was in sight.