Misc. Erotica The Mechanic's Trap- By Novelist Casanova

[novelistcasanova]

“Back to the Road”

I stood still for a moment longer in that quiet, forgotten place — breathing in what little remained of him on my skin, in the hush of air, in the way my heartbeat still hadn’t slowed.
Then, slowly, I reached down, pulling my navy blue Panties back up with a gentle tug.
My fingers moved mechanically, smoothing down the black petticoat, pulling the soft yellow chiffon saree back around me. I adjusted the pleats, tucked them in, and dbangd the pallu across my chest — each movement a quiet act of putting myself back together.  That’s when I noticed the Auto Driver, he has been watching me wear my Navy Blue Panties on and we my black Petticoat and wear my Yellow Chiffon Saree properly and jerking off and was cumming all over the floor.
Holding Muthu’s face and kissing his lips and looking at the Auto Driver, I kissed Muthu’s lips indirectly telling the Auto Driver that I belong to Muthu and not him.  As the Auto Driver began leaving the place. I began leaving the place along with Muthu.
Not as the woman Muthu held.
But the woman who had to let Muthu go.
The sunlight outside made me blink. Muthu was already waiting by the Auto, hands in his pockets, gaze lowered. As I stepped toward him, he looked up — and for a second, his eyes met mine like he wanted to memorize this version of me too.
I sat beside him, the silence between us now filled with everything we couldn't say.
His hand found mine.
Neither of us pulled away.
And just like that, the Auto rumbled back to life — carrying us forward, toward an airport, toward an ending, toward a memory we would never unwrite.
“Tears in the Wind”
The Auto’s engine hummed steadily beneath us, but all I could hear was the echo of his breath still lingering on my skin.
I sat beside him, my hand still in his — though my fingers trembled with every passing second. The road stretched endlessly ahead, but I knew it was shortening. Every kilometer was a countdown.
I turned my face slightly toward the wind, pretending to enjoy the breeze. But the truth was, I didn’t want him to see the tears forming in my eyes.
I missed him.
Not in the way you miss someone after they’ve gone.
I missed him while he was still here.
A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it, slipping silently over the corner of my lip. I bit down, hoping he wouldn’t notice — but Muthu did. He always did.
“Sudha…” His voice cracked, barely audible above the wind. “Don’t cry. Please.”
But I couldn’t stop. The more I tried, the more it hurt.
“I don’t know how to let go,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “You were the only secret that ever made me feel… real.”
He squeezed my hand gently. “Then carry me like a secret. Always. That’s all I ask.”
The Auto turned into the final road. I could already see the airport walls appearing in the distance, pale and indifferent. My chest tightened.
I leaned against his shoulder, unable to speak. His arm came around me slowly, protectively, like it always had. But this time, there was a finality to it.
A soft, heartbreaking finality.
I closed my eyes and let the tears come — quietly, completely — letting them fall into the space between us, into the folds of my saree, into the wind that was already trying to take him from me.
“Last Call”
The Auto hadn’t even come to a full stop when the airport speakers echoed his flight number.
"This is the final boarding call for passengers traveling to Dubai..."
The words hit me like a cold gust.
I looked at him — Muthu’s eyes wide, startled, almost dazed. For a second, we both froze. The world moved ahead in a blur. But we were still here. Still holding on.
“We’re late,” he said, voice rough, hurried. He reached for his bag and climbed out of the Auto. I followed, my feet moving on instinct.
The airport glass gleamed ahead of us like a curtain we weren’t ready to walk through.
“Muthu…” I called softly.
He stopped. Turned.