— HOURS LATER—
The rain had drenched the city, taking off its racy edge. ‘Almost like after an orgasm…’ thought Neha as laughed out loud in her head as she sipped on her glass of rose. The loban was making white swirls, the mogras she had bought from a street vendor at Turner Road spread their aphrodisiacal aroma, the wistful retro Bollywood number still running on repeat. And then ‘pop’ … the sesame crackled in the ghee in the kadhai, breaking her reverie and as she added potatoes and curry patta, there was a sharp knock on the door.
“Just a minute,” said Neha grabbing a jacket over her gunjee, still wet from her run. And found herself looking at Nandini.
“I forgot my saree in your bath. Also figured, now would be as good a time to give you back yours given I didn’t even ask you for your number.” She said, walking into the kitchen… “Something smells good. Cooking something interesting?” She asked peering into the warm gas stove…
“Depends. How was your interview?” Neha asked with a clipped tone. She turned to turn up her iPod just a notch to control her fidgety hands.
“I got the job. Looks like your saree was lucky for me! You are looking at the new editor of Time Out’s queer section.”
Her easy affirmation of her sexuality just added tension into the already still and sultry atmosphere of the room. Neha clutched harder onto her jacket, hoping her peaked nipples were well hidden.
“Your potatoes,” Nandini grimaced… “They seem to be burning,” startling Neha into action as she tried to salvage them from turning charcoal black.
Turmeric. Coriander Power. Chilly Powder…. Neha added the masalas into her curry on auto pilot. A dash of curd and water, covering the potatoes to let the curry find its flavor. As she turned around, she found Nandini had tucked her saree pallu into her petticoat. Her belly ring peeked whimsically out of her belly button as Nandini dried her hair with a towel draped nearby.
“Can I have a sip?” Nandini asked looking at Neha’s glass of wine and hung the towel to dry on a clothes stand nearby.
“Sure. Should I get you another glass?”
“Nah, this is fine. Just need a sip for now.”
She turned to hand back the wine glass back to Neha… And dropped it instantly. “Ouch. Guess it’s my turn to be clumsy now.”
The red rose wine stained the white kitchen floor. Even Neha’s cream saree. “Guess I better get out of this quick.” And started to unravel the saree right in the kitchen. It may have been just a few seconds… but for Neha, the six yard saree was being peeled in slow motion. Bit- by- bit as Nandini turned creating an image of black and white erotica with the shadows her movements cast on the wall. And Neha couldn’t look away… from Nandini’s dusky skin contrasting with her twinkling anklet, her satin petticoat draped to fit her curves and then her blouse tied up in the front and silver kundan earrings that played hide and seek with her wet hair.
And she reached out…. And found her hand meet another. Soft palms curled into each other. Short fingers touched the soft silky under pad below her thumb, rubbing it slowly to give her … and then reached for her mouth. Lips met lips and she could taste the berry stain off Nandini now… She teased and tongues raced into duel with each other… hungering for more as they came up for breath…
“Ah, love the way you kiss… Another of those things you do well?” mocked Nandini, as she reached to her tie up blouse, undoing the knot with almost seductive slowness and as her breasts spilled out of skin fleshed lingerie, she asked saucily like a woman sure of her own beauty, “Like what you see?”
Pink nipples stood erect. Waiting to be made love to. She shimmied out of her petticoat and panties and stood naked in the middle of Neha’s kitchen…
“I don’t bite. Not yet.”
“I haven’t had a shower after my run.”
“Let me help…”
And proceeded to get Neha’s gunjee, shorts, socks off in quick speed.
Neha turned the simmering curry down, willing her pulse to slow down wondering how long had it been… And then sanity kicked one in
“Why haven’t we met before? Did my friends set you up?”
“I am not from Mumbai. Just flew in from Bangalore. Spanish inquisition done?”
“Are you single?”
“Yes. And your room is too neat for you to be dating anyone,” she said with a giggle which was sure of itself.
Neha walked into her bath, lit the pillar candle… Nandini switched on the geyser and let the warm water course down Neha’s back. Almost like they had a subconscious rhythm in motion… Neha reached out for the sponge… and Nandini whacked it playfully from her, dropped a liberal measure of bath gel. Neha turned around, almost self consciously and Nandini began to make her way up with the sponge. Toes. Calves, underside of the knees, thighs and then her hands moved up the spine…. Giving Neha goose bumps… Nandini’s touch was gentle yet scorching, almost like a slow burn.
‘It’s lucky… we are under the water…Would have been burnt to cinder by now.’ Neha’s voice was husky. Almost overcome with emotion.
‘Been a while for you?’ asked Nandini, the sardonic expression cloaking her curiosity…
‘How does one explain how time had passed by mourning an almost perfect relationship? How much one can punish one’s own body for desires it had no right to feel? How much can you undo the person you became with her?’…. All those thoughts passed in Neha’s head and she just nodded her head and said gruffly, “Three years. ”
“Wow. Sure you haven’t become a virgin again?” muttered Nandini playfully as she reached her fingers in between her vagina… and found Neha warm and wet! Fingers moved in and out quick, purposefully and yet gently as she found her G-spot with unerring precision… Hot water pouring on the outside and the warm fingers willed her to let loose. Neha came with a force and a moan of a body that had finally broken many a mental obstruction and leaned on the wall.
“My turn today?” muttered Nandini, kissing Neha’s dry, trembling mouth recreating their passionate reunion… Wrapped her in a big fluffy towel and led her to her big bed. And then wrapped her limbs around Neha in a spoon fashion… “Just kidding. I will be here when you wake up ”
They were sleeping curled into each other. The iPod in the kitchen was still humming rightly in the background… ‘Mann Kyon Behka Re Behka…’