Gaysi: The Gay Desi - Yes, we're legal!

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Rani and Zarina stood facing each other. Zarina reached out her hand and clasped Rani’s in it, and then pulled her close to her. Rani put her arms around Zarina’s head and wrapped her in her embrace. They kissed deeply, Zarina’s hands found Rani’s supple waist. She pulled her towards her so their groins pressed against each other.

“I am so wet!” Rani giggled. “Do you want to see?” She took Zarina’s left hand with her right hand and sucked on her forefinger and index fingers, then she took Zarina’s hand and guided her fingers under her dress to her pussy. She was wearing the skinniest of thongs which she pushed aside without any effort so that Zarina’s hand was now rubbing her wet pussy. “Do you like that?” Rani asked with her eyelashes aflutter. Zarina could feel her hands drenched with cum.

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Zarina was running late by 15 minutes to Rani’s office. The controversial head of a major luxury brand based out of Delhi, Rani was known for her extravagant parties and public love affairs. The most recent one, with a married man. Her divorce from the head of a corporate bank a few years back had been equally public and messy.

Rani was looking for an art and design services company to re-design her plush home in New Delhi and Zarina had come with excellent references. Besides, Zarina and Rani knew each other from Loreto Convent in Delhi. They had been in the same class but different sections. Zarina had always been very popular, eventually becoming a school prefect. In contrast, Rani had been a plain Jane; quiet and shy and she certainly gave no indication of the Page 3 celebrity she would become. Zarina hadn’t seen her in years, although Rani’s life was tabloid fodder.

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Dear Lezzies,

I apologize that I have been errant in my responsibilities in delivering sexy stories to you every week. The truth is I have been having so much damn sex I have no time to write stories. I met the most fantastic, sexy, gorgeous damsel who makes my heart go boom boom, and boy, does she take over the bedroom. I thought I was the one in charge – and always have been, seeing Zarina is my alter ego – but ooph! This is something else. I am in a different stratosphere.

I said it was my day job that kept me from writing, but it’s the sex. Still, it all goes down into the annals of bedroom research. The fountain of erotica spills forth from personal experience, after all. Please forgive me, but be happy that a lezzie is getting laid. And how!

I will continue writing once I get enough sleep. These days, it’s all about the loving caresses and the steamy aftermath. And don’t forget the orgasms.

Yours faithfully,
Sasha Bings

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

In the Bedroom

Zarina walked out of the coffee-shop with Mallika. There was a slight drizzle of rain. They walked in silence to Mallika’s apartment in Colaba opposite the Fariyas Hotel; Mallika looked drained. She was taking the rest of the day off. Neither of them said much but the tension between them was palpable. Why had Zarina agreed to meet her? Suddenly she felt like she was back at Ground Zero. The earth opened up and was swallowing her whole. Mallika leaned forward, pecked Zarina on the cheek. Zarina couldn’t look her in the eye. They said their byes and Zarina walked solemnly back to her office in Nariman Point. She needed the long walk to calm her mind which was in tumultuous upheaval.

That awkward coffee meeting was followed by two subsequent days of incessant messaging, which turned to sexual innuendo until neither of them could take it anymore. The spark had been lit. They could never keep their hands off each other when they were together. It felt like just yesterday that Zarina had made love to Mallika. Her groin throbbed hard at the thought of her tongue all over Mallika’s buttery skin, exploring every crevice of her body, deeply inside of her, tongue-fucking her. Oh god! How Mallika drove her wild. She wanted to fuck Mallika so badly it hurt.

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* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Memory Lane-2

Mallika was already waiting at their table when Zarina arrived at India Jones. She was checking messages on her blackberry and she looked up as Zarina approached. Perfectly mannered, as Zarina would have guessed, she stood up and extended her hand, clasping Zarina’s in it. They gave each other a kiss on the cheek before Zarina sat down, adjusting the crimson colored skirt she was wearing.

“Hi, I hope you like this place,” Zarina said. “I come here all the time.”

“I must admit this is my first time here,” responded Mallika. “I will have to take your recommendation on what to order.”

Zarina was used to ordering – she liked to be in control. She ordered all her favorite dishes, making sure Mallika didn’t have any allergies or dislikes. She called for a bottle of Chilean white wine for them.

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* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Memory Lane-1

Zarina and Mallika walked in silence to Mallika’s apartment opposite the Fariyas Hotel in Colaba. Mallika was calling in sick for the rest of the day. She looked wiped out. Zarina wanted to put her arm around her and hold her close. She kept quiet and walked alongside her ex-lover with a weight on her shoulders of having so much to say, but saying nothing at all. A light drizzle of rain fell on them.

Mallika, like Zarina, was a self-made entrepreneur. She had a small publishing firm that focused on art, entertainment and design and that’s how they had met. Zarina had got a reference from a mutual acquaintance and called up Mallika’s firm to discuss a book she was working on. After countless emails and phone calls exchanged over four months they finally met in Mallika’s office in Churchgate.

It was love at first sight, at least for Zarina. From the moment their eyes met, Zarina felt as if she was looking into a deep well. Mallika’s soulfulness countered Zarina’s cool and aloof demeanor. She felt immediately at ease with the woman sitting opposite her, across the table. Mallika had her hair up that day, in a clip with a few loose strands falling around her neck. She wore a smart pair of black-rimmed Ralph Lauren glasses perched delicately on the bridge of her nose and she had left the top two buttons of her white shirt unbuttoned, giving her an air of casual elegance. They talked for an hour about the book project. Mallika had a fresh approach; she was unlike any other publisher Zarina had met. “Finally,” Zarina, remembered thinking, “a publisher who has a vision.”

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