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  #21  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:58 AM
gabbar gabbar is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks man. Next chapter will have Sonia flashing back.
Flashing?
Flashbacking?
Backflashing?
Whatever!
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  #22  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:59 AM
goldfish goldfish is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Love it! So true to life!!

Oh, how many times have certain women caught my eye while travelling! Of course, in my mundane world, nothing happens.....I get to sit next to guys that are monosyllabic in their conversations or women with children or older "aunties" that are not interested in any conversation. My best conversations were with the flight attendants....best looking and most charming on a recent flight on Qatar ***ways (including one that was a spitting image of Alia Bhatt!!)

So I know this is going to get really juicy, man!!!

And Sonia's flashback.....I'm sure we'll hear how a well brought up Indian girl discovers the freedoms of the New World!! And again, I know of many girls and boys who went there with all the norms and traditions of the Indian culture and went totally wild...booze, sex, drugs. Today, you'd never know that...they are such "respectable" family people now. And there are those, like me, privileged to be able to travel and taste the rest of the world, tempted but just not able or ready to give in......

And so we live out our fantasies on stories like these.....

Thanks for the updates.

BTW, no probs with the cameo roles....and thanks!!
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  #23  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:59 AM
desiman7 desiman7 is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Great start..... repoed up
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  #24  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:01 AM
aamjayadakha aamjayadakha is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks everyone. I'll post the next one in the morning.
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  #25  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:02 AM
lamboo lamboo is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks Breville. It seems to me that I'm writing for you (and maybe a couple of others) but for a writer an audience of one is pretty good going!

You shall have your cameo as a character called Harold Breville (aka Horny Devil). That's the plan so far at least although I suppose it could change. Who he will be is something to wait for.
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  #26  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:03 AM
kamina_pati kamina_pati is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Wow...dude....thats a fucking great story...please continue...
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  #27  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:04 AM
desiman7 desiman7 is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

let's see how you take it up further
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  #28  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:04 AM
rocki rocki is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks Hartik and Breville. I had it all written, but then my critic said it was lame, so I'm rewriting it. Tomorrow the next installment shall be posted.

And for your patience, my friends, Breville and Hartik will have cameo roles. Let me know if you don't want it!
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  #29  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:06 AM
rocki rocki is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Chapter 2

Sonia

Sonia got into her Toyota Camry and drove about aimlessly. The sun was sinking over the horizon as she drove on Storrow drive, the dying rays glinting off the beautiful Charles River. She was momentarily surprised to see how far from Natick she had come.

The trees were still green and full, and she knew the outside temperature was still a glorious seventy five from the readout on her car’s display, but late summer in Boston could be unreliable, and it could turn cold abruptly after the sun went down. She glanced at her backseat to make sure her fleece jacket was there, a cute pink and purple North Face, that was nevertheless functional and had served her well over the last few years. In the depth of winter though, she would add a top coat, but there was still time for that.

She was mad, her face still holding the frown—she could feel the tension in her face and actively relaxed it—but after Anil’s last comment she had cooled down a little. She was actually curious about what he would come up with. Her choices were clear, she thought. She would prove he was an adulterer and then divorce his sorry ass. How dare he cheat on her? She would call Shalini, her lawyer friend and find out the procedure for divorce. Surely she would know someone appropriate. At a stop light, she pulled her phone out and went to her contact list, pressed Shalini, but did not press the call button. There was a fat man in the truck next to her, smoking and leering at her. She made a sour face and put the phone away. She would wait to call Shalini.

She thought ahead: there were no significant assets to speak of, financial or otherwise. They lived in a rented apartment and while there was money in the bank, his and hers had been kept scrupulously separate. Almost as though they had been preparing for this day. They did have a joint account into which they transferred matching amounts, and all household expenses like rent, electric bill, groceries, etc., were paid from that. While it might sound complicated, long practice had made it second nature.

And then she thought of Anil’s status. His citizenship application might be affected by the divorce. She felt a little sorry and even ashamed. She herself had become naturalized many years ago. Anil, on the other hand, had come to the US as a student and after many years on various visas, had finally been able to file for citizenship based on his marriage to her.

Unlike many marriages of convenience, theirs had been real, and therefore the interviews that were designed to weed out exactly such fraudsters, theirs had been easy. It still took time though. She thought that the need to demonstrate their love for each other to the immigration officers over and over had actually made their relationship stronger, like pouring water over concrete to harden it. Small, seemingly inconsequential questions like, ‘how many spoons of sugar does he take in his coffee?’ The answer was, of course that Anil never drank coffee, he was tea guy. Someone who was trying to game the system could easily be tripped up with questions like that.

Her inner voice, her internal devil’s advocate spoke up. She hated this inner Sonia, but it was a part of her persona that kept her honest. The inner Sonia said, “Poor fellow, now his visa status will have to go back to H1, and he might even have to go back to India.”

Sonia spoke aloud in the privacy of her car. Her voice was a vicious snarl. “Yeah, but he should have thought about that before he started fucking around.”

“Hypocrite. It’s not like you haven’t slept around.”

“Yes,” she conceded, and for a few moments she was lost. Then, with gathering outrage and more force than she would have credited herself, “I have, yes, but not since I married Anil. I’ve been faithful to him. How dare he do this to me?” Her anger boiled over once more.

“Yes, but this was probably a one time thing. Some secretary or something. Doesn’t mean anything. Just a summer fling.” The inner Sonia wasn’t giving up.
Then, more defensively, she said, “I was made to. It wasn’t my fault. It was not my fault. He used me!”

The inner Sonia gave a snort. “You cunt. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it!”

She had nothing to say to that.

She turned around, heading south on Mass ave and found herself in the South End. Several bars flashed by. Going to a singles bar was not something Sonia did frequently. Not since her marriage at least. Before that, well…that was a different matter, a different life. She kept driving, and soon found herself in a more seedy part of town. Was this Dedham or Dorchester? She didn’t know and didn’t care.

She knew she could check her phone to figure it out, but she couldn’t be bothered.
She surprised herself by pulling into a parking lot in a seedy looking strip mall with a pub at one end, a check casher, a pawn shop and a small Korean grocery shop at the other end. The Korean store—at least she thought it was Korean, although she allowed that it could have been Vietnamese or even Thai—was still open.

She opened the door and stuck out a foot. That was when she noticed her *****. Silver pumps with two inch heels. The asphalt was cracked and deeply rutted. Behind her, the blacktop looked in much better rep***. The parking lot must not have been fixed the last couple times the road had been rep***ed. She stepped out and stood on the rutted, broken lot between the Korean store and the pub.

“What? Are you going to get drunk, or are you going to get sushi?” The inner Sonia wasn’t giving up just yet.

“Oh fuck off,” she said crossly. Really, the inner Sonia could be such a tiresome bitch.

Should she walk into the Oriental grocery store and grab a six-pack of beer to drink in the car, or go into the bar? Decisions, decisions. Her previous furious boil had settled down to a more gentle simmer. If she could get her hands on Anil right now, she might have choked him out, but probably not torn his head off and stuffed it up his ass. That would have been before. When she had figured out his deception.

For a moment she reflected on her anger, the curve it would have generated on a graph. She had actually not been so angry whilst in the apartment as she had been while driving. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure how and where she had driven. Suddenly feeling unsafe, she got into the car and locked it.

Still mulling over her decision, she checked herself in the mirror. For a second, she was surprised that she wore lipstick, a thick line of mascara. Really much more than usual. When had she done that? Then she remembered the vague idea of a payback when she had locked herself into the bedroom and changed, preparatory to going out.

If he was going to cheat on her, well, then she could get up to a little extracurricular activity too. What was good for the goose and so on. She must have applied the makeup then. She checked her clothes. Skinny jeans, sports bra, neon halter top. And the sexy *****. Good for dancing, flirting, but definitely not classy. It was going to be the bar.

She exited the car and looked around. There were several cars in the lot, a collection of small domestic sedans, a few pick up trucks, some venerable Japanese imports. She could feel the loud bass thumping into her ***** through the cracked asphalt. At the door, she hesitated, turned and walked to the back of the bar. She could not tell for sure what drove her to do that. Going around to the back of a seedy pub was asking for trouble, she knew that. Still, she felt a strong compulsion, almost like a junkie craving a fix.

Three powerful exhaust fans encased in steel cages on the side of the building belched thick greasy smoke, redolent with the odor of fried potatoes and hamburgers. The dark, barracks-like room they ventilated had to be the kitchen. Typical pub food. She thought she might gain a few pounds simply standing there, breathing it in.

It reminded her a little of standing outside the sweet shop in Bhopal when she had gone to visit her grandparents. That had been pure desi ghee, she remembered. This on the other hand, was probably the cheapest peanut oil, recycled a thousand times, just one step short of biodiesel. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.
She could see nobody in the back lot. It was in worse shape than the front, and here and there she could see the asphalt heaped up in great cracks and ravines. Like the Himalayas in miniature.

There were only a few cars around, and presumably they were all employee vehicles. She saw a couple of pickup trucks. One of them had undergone a suspension lift and looked like a monster truck sitting on fat balloon tires. It looked vaguely obscene, like a pornstar with overinflated boobs. Just like one of the bimbos in one of Anil’s favorite porn videos.

Oh yes, she knew all his peccadilloes. She wasn’t a cybersecurity expert for nothing. Not that she was a snoop or anything; just a random chance that she had peeked into his computer even while he was actually surfing on it. She didn’t need his physical machine for looking in. He thought he was cute, using incognito mode and erasing his history and all that, but there were things she knew that would curl his pubic h*** tighter than a watch spring. But then, she wasn’t really thinking about her lame-ass husband. Her attention was arrested by something else.

A car. A sports car to be exact. Next to the truck was a burnt orange Camaro with lightning decals on the sides. Her breath caught in her throat.

No way, she thought, as she walked over to examine it more closely. The car had a few more scratches and scars than the last time she had seen it. The color might have been a little faded, but it was hard to tell under the fluorescent lights of the parking lot. But sure enough, the car still carried vanity plates, RSTAMON. Short for Rasta Mon. Caribbean for Rasta Man.

Michael Cooley, the wannabe Rastafarian. Pimp, drug dealer, lover. The sight of car triggered a powerful sense of deja vu and her breath caught as the memory took over. A visceral reaction like a tsunami overwhelmed her and she was vaguely aware of her nerves buzzing, heart thumping in her throat, face flushing, and even a few beads of sweat on her forehead.

And there was an undeniable wetness between her legs.
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  #30  
Old 04-11-2017, 07:06 AM
kaamdev kaamdev is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Chapter 6

Sonia

The Gateway Drug

Soon after that afternoon, Sonia noticed that Roshni started acting a little different. She could not put her finger on the exact day when things started changing, but change they did. It was as if a dark cloud had covered the sun. A dark cloud that would soon cover her life for a while. But she did not know that yet.

Roshni would frequently not show up at the pool, and when she did, she appeared tired. A couple of times she had bruises on her arms, once even her neck. She seemed to have new bumps on her nipples. There was also a new necklace, like a choker, with a little lock pendant on it the she seemed to wear all the time. Sonia wondered what was going on, but having learned it was un-American to pry, kept quiet.

Sometimes, when Sonia said something, Roshni would take a while before she responded, lying in the sun with a dreamy half-smile as though she were in a trance, remembering a time so intensely pleasurable that all her presence was in that past, anticipating only the next encounter. Forgetting to live in the present. Sonia thought Roshni was in love.

One day, as the sun was setting, Roshni extracted a small brown object, shaped like a mini cigar, from her purse and cocked an eyebrow at Sonia.

“What is it?”

“A joint…reefer…blunt…there are many names.”

“Drugs!” Sonia was horrified.

“Honey,” Roshni said in her most condescending schoolmarm tone, “pot is not drugs. It’s a…recreational agent, like alcohol.”

“Where did you get it from?”

“Michael,” she said. As soon as she said that, Sonia realized how obvious it was. Of course it was bloody Michael.

A part of her was jealous of Roshni’s new boyfriend. She wasn’t sure though if it was the fact that Roshni had him to herself, or if it was the time he took Roshni away from her that was the problem.

They tried the joint later that evening, laughing and giggling back near the dumpster. Roshni had slowly but surely worn down Sonia’s reserves and she had caved. Roshni had shown her how to smoke, how to inhale, hold her breath and so on, and after the initial coughing spells, Sonia had learned.

Unknown to Sonia at that time, they were right near the building in which Michael lived, in fact right in front of the covered porch of his apartment.

After the joint was finished, they sat on the raised pa****t with stupid half-smiles in their intoxicated state. Roshni reached out and caressed Sonia’s cheek like a lover might, and this sent them into gales of laughter. When the mirth had subsided, Sonia had reached forward and touched Roshni’s soft lips with her own.

They kissed, softly, tenderly, like people who have never kissed before. Like two lost souls reaching out for each other in the middle of an ocean of strangers.

“You are so beautiful,” Sonia said, gazing at her friend. And indeed she was. Roshni had a smooth, almost creamy complexion, several shades lighter than Sonia’s own, and even in the dim light of the faraway streetlight, she could see soft downy h*** on Roshni’s cheeks and upper lip. It made her want to stick out her tongue and lick her skin, caress the smoothness with her lips, inhale the fragrance.

She realized the weed was making her wonky. She had never had such thoughts before. True, she and Roshni were best friends, but she had never before had sexual thoughts about her. And she was most definitely not a lesbian, at least not when she fantasized about hard cocks ravaging her cunt as she fingered herself before sleep a few times a week.

“So are you,” Roshni said and caressed her cheek.

Something made Sonia reach out and touch Roshni’s breasts. Tentatively at first, and then with increasing confidence, Sonia cupped and squeezed and kneaded Roshni’s breasts. She felt something hard, harder than the mere hardening of nipples.

After a while, Roshni reached behind her and undid the knot that held her bikini top together. The small piece of cloth fell away and Roshni’s large boobs were revealed in all their glory. There was a small dumbbell shaped silver piercing in her nipple, one on each side.

Before Sonia could ask where, why, when, Roshni stood, still naked from the waist up and said, “Let’s go someplace comfortable.”

“Uh uh, no,” Sonia protested. But she reached down with both arms and pulled her own shirt off. Then they were both topless in the moonlight, embracing, breast to breast, nipples rubbery firm in the suddenly nippy evening ***. On impulse, Sonia bent down and took Roshni’s nipple into her mouth and sucked hard. The metal clacked against her teeth. She bit and pulled gently. Roshni responded like she had received an electric jolt.

Roshni reached out, and Sonia’s hand, and pulled her along gently but urgently. Together they walked into the building. Sonia did not know it at the time, but they were entering Michael’s apartment on the first floor. The door was not locked, and Roshni simply twisted the knob and entered.

Music was playing softly on unseen speaker, some kind of Caribbean rhythm that she would later come to know as reggae music.

Inside, it was dark, but Roshni seemed to know her way around. Without switching on any lights Roshni led her along into the bedroom. A large, low bed, its white sheets luminous in the reflected light of the moon, occupied most of the room. Roshni sat on the bed and switched on a dim bedside lamp as Sonia stood by uncertainly.

“I’m not sure…” she began, but Roshni rose and silenced her with a kiss. Then she pulled Sonia down into the bed, into her arms.

Before she knew it, Sonia found herself naked and Roshni between her legs, kissing and licking and slurping. The pleasure overwhelmed her, and soon she found herself lost in the beginnings of an orgasm. Roshni reached out with one hand and caressed her breasts, gently handling the nipples, pulling them away from her body, rolling them between her fingers.

Sonia sighed in the delicious wash of sensations that flooded her body. A finger entered her vagina, and another, perhaps a thumb. Roshni’s tongue was doing slow sweeping circles around her h***y opening and Sonia shuddered, her orgasm peaking, fluid leaking everywhere.

When Sonia had come back down to earth, Roshni looked up from between her thighs and said, “Now my turn.” She rose and straddled Sonia’s torso and positioned her h***less slit over Sonia’s mouth.

“Do as I did.” She took both of Sonia’s hands and placed them on her generous tits and said, “Be rough with them, don’t worry about hurting me.”

In the dim light, Sonia noticed a small tattoo on Roshni’s left breast. She thought she could see the letters ‘RSTA’ She thought of asking her about it, but kept quiet. There were more important things to do right now. She grabbed Roshni’s melons—there was no other word for it—with both hands, and went to work on Roshni’s cunt.

She probed with her tongue, licking and poking just the way Roshni had done to her, and for some reason, her own pussy seemed to throb with the same rhythm that Roshni pressed herself to Sonia’s mouth. She learned from Roshni’s responses, her soft mewling cries, moans, sighs of ecstasy. She nibbled at Roshni’s clit gently, lips only, licked all around it, languidly, languorously, as Roshni writhed on top of her, her thighs gripping her head and relaxing alternately as her own orgasm took over.

Sonia never noticed the camera lens peeking from the half open closet, faithfully recording everything.
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