[sakurasan]

Chapter 15 Other Lips — Part 1

Rohan dropped her at the building and waited until she went in. The bags were still in her room, packed for home. She opened them on the bed and put the clothes back in the cupboard, stack by stack.

Sneha came to the door. “Why are you putting them back. You were going home.”

“I am staying. Rohan asked me. I already lied to Ma about lab work.”

Sneha looked at the open bag, then at her. “You and Rohan. Good. I am not telling your mother.”

“Thank you.”

“I will leave by next week. Will you be able to manage.”

“Yes, didi. I should have been running a house by now anyway.”

Sneha smiled and went to her room. Isha shut the cupboard, changed, and got into bed. The phone was already bright.

She and Kunal had been on WhatsApp since Saturday night. The chat was pictures and forwards, and under those he wrote that he was missing her in his bed. She had teased him back. I am going to native. Keep missing more. Since yesterday the chat had been his sad faces and broken hearts, one after another.

She opened Kunal’s chat. There was no need to tell him she was staying. Her pussy did not let her. She typed.

“I am staying in Pune.”

She sent it. The ticks turned blue at once. Hearts followed. Then he wrote.

“Tyson is getting excited.”

She typed back. “No use. Cathy is not interested.”

The next morning Isha stood at the kitchen sink and washed the breakfast plates. Sneha was in the hall. Through the window Isha saw Kunal pull up at the back door, a backpack high on his shoulders.

Her phone rang on the hall table, beside Sneha. Isha dried her hands, went out, and picked it up. His name was on the screen. She cut the call.

Sneha asked, “Who is it.”

“Spam.”

She carried the phone back to the kitchen and typed.

“Why are you here.”

“Five minutes. If you are not down, I am coming up.”

She looked toward the hall. Sneha was still there.

“Are you mad. Wait by the gulmohar. I am coming.”

She looked out the kitchen window and saw only the tail of his bike. The tree covered the rest. She went down the back stairs.

“Finally. You came.”

“Sneha will notice. Tell me fast.”

“I came to check on Cathy.”

“Cathy is fine. Now go.”

“All this way, yaar. Show a little pity.”

She looked up. The tree covered her from the apartment. She turned to his bag. “Packed. Taking Tyson somewhere.”

He opened the bag and took out a few of her western clothes from the shoot.

“These are yours.”

“Thanks.”

She took the clothes and turned toward the stairs.

His hand went inside her pallu and caught her bare stomach. He pulled her between the trunk and the compound wall.

“I have to go up.”

“Talk to me first. You have the whole morning.”

He put his other hand on her stomach. Both hands stayed under the pallu and drew slow circles on her skin. He drew her back against his chest and set his back to the tree. The circles went lower, onto the skin above her saree. Her nipples stood against the blouse. They talked like normal friends, both ignoring his hands roaming inside her pallu.




Then she turned to face him.

“Sneha will be looking for me.”

She kissed him on the mouth. He cupped her breast and her ass over the cloth and pulled her against him. They broke for air. She pulled free and went up the back stairs with the clothes.

From the next morning she waited at the window, and he came at the same hour with another batch of her clothes. Those mornings the talk ran long, and the kiss did too. In the afternoons she cooked something new and fed it to Rohan in the park, his head on her lap. She told him Kunal had brought the shoot clothes. He nodded. He asked if the bag was heavy.

Saturday morning, Lata called to check on her. She asked how Isha’s family was taking the new wedding date. Isha said they were perfectly fine with it. Lata said they had been supposed to be together by now. Isha said she had looked forward to it too.

“I need to tell you this,” Lata said.

“Yes, Ma.”

“His grandfather’s FDs and the insurance money have come. You know our men. It will walk out with the next person who asks.”

“I know.”

“You tell him you need a house. If I say it, he will not hear.”

“Don’t worry, Ma. I will take care.”

She wore a chiffon saree and one of the blouses Savita had stitched. They had lunch, then a movie, and reached the park in the evening. After a while she asked,

“How should our house be.”

“You already saw ours.”

“Not the native one. I am asking about Pune. You will not keep me in a rental forever.”

“We should get one here too. First we earn more.”

“Forget the money. I saw an apartment ad.”

“I like independent ones.”

“Like our native place. Better.”

“Yes. We can build more rooms as the kids come.”

“You are sounding dangerous. My body will have limits.”

“No limit for me.”

“Just love me enough for three kids. No more.”

“Let’s see.”

“No. Back to the house. Say I manage the money. Why not now.”

“I am not taking it from your parents.”

“I never said my parents.”

“Then how.”

“We earn. We can take a loan. Your grandfather’s last wish was this. Your mother called me today.”

“Now I see where this is coming from.”

“Your girl cannot dream a home.”

“You dream it. I will get it for you.”

“Is that a yes.”

“Yes. We start looking tomorrow.”

The next evening in the park she opened the house ads she had saved. He took the phone so he could see them. A notice slid down from Kunal, a picture. She cleared that chat every night. This one had arrived in his hand.

She flicked the notice to push it away. Her thumb opened it.

A retired heavyweight champion sat with the Zorro actress at a Miami bar, drinks in front of them. Rohan spread two fingers and the faces grew. Fear went through her. She was shy of his eyes on them, and she was angry at Kunal for sending it into Rohan’s hand.

“Kunal did not say he met celebrities in his trip.”

“Maybe you did not ask.”

She watched the top of the screen. If Kunal wrote what he wrote at night, Rohan would read it.

“True that.”

Another picture came before she could get the phone. He opened it. The same two were dancing, his hand on her waist.

Rohan assumed he was watching celebrities. She could only see her pussy and Kunal’s cock close like that. His zooming flooded her with shame.

“I did not know they were in a relationship.”

“No. They just met for a night, it seems.”

“How did you know.”

“How else. He only said.”

“Cool.”

He stayed in the chat. More pictures arrived, closer. His thigh was between her legs. Her chest was against his shirt.

She was shy of it. The anger had gone hot. Juice gathered in her panties. She kept her hands in her lap.

“They both look made for each other, no.”

“I don’t think they are a match.”

“Are you kidding. See how they move in the dance floor.”

“Maybe. It is all his tricks.”

The next picture was a kiss. His thumb hit the heart.

“Why did you react,” she asked sharply.

“Sorry.”

Her cheeks were red. He thought it was anger. She was embarrassed. She was scared the heart would make Kunal say something. He would think she wanted him.




He tried to defend himself. “Won’t you even give a heart for his pictures.”

She wanted to defuse it and get the phone back. “I do. It is ok. If you are done watching them, let’s head home.”

He gave the phone back. She put it in her handbag quickly. The fear left her. The anger was still there, and her panties were still slick.

Isha lay in bed and opened her phone. Kunal had already written. A minute passed between each message.

“I knew it. There is soft corner in your heart.”

“You can’t be mad at them.”

“They are meant to tango.”

She started typing. Her replies left one after another.

“Idiot.”

“Brainless.”

“Don’t you have any sense.”

Kunal was stunned. Before he could answer the first, the other two had come.

“Hold on. You were the one. You hearted the pic.”

“That was not me.”

He understood who had done it, and what had happened. “I thought you will be home by then.”

“You don’t know how embarrassed I was.”

“What did he say.”

“He thinks you met them. Thank God I took the phone before your text.”

He sent reel after reel of couples, a man apologizing to a woman, over and over.

She had cooled. A few of them tempted her to send a laughing face. She did not.

“Enough apology. Maintain the story. They were in a one night stand, and you met them.”

“Ok. No worries. How is Cathy today.”

“She started crying after you embarrassed her.”

“You are lying. Show me.”

“No way.”

“Come on. You don’t know how much Tyson is missing her. Pretty please.”

She looked at her pussy. Juice from the park was still there, and more of it ran while he flirted. She raised her nighty. She lowered the phone, took the picture, and sent it.

“See. How much tears.”

He laughed at the picture. He could see how horny she was.

“Shall I send Tyson to console her.”

Since Sneha left on Friday she had been home alone, cursing herself for not taking the vibrator from Kunal’s room.

“I don’t want Tyson. Send Dyson.”

“Who is that.”

“He posed with Cathy last time. Should be in your drawer.”

He understood. “Anything for Cathy.”

“Only for Cathy. Nothing for me?”

“You have Rohan.”