Maximum City – The Rising Bar
The 17th floor of a Cuffe Parade high-rise was his home for a week, as a toddler.
Sold it for 1 Crore – his uncle established.
At Hiranandani Gardens in Powai he gazed at the sky-scrapers.
1.5 Crores – he was told.
An ad mentioned about a New Cuffe Parade.
2 Crore onwards – it read.
He contemplated on a bank heist.
An Italian Sojourn
The fact that they were from distant ends of the world didn’t bother him.
She, on the other hand, was apprehensive.
This ain’t gonna work – she observed solemnly.
Of course, it will! – he expressed optimism.
They zeroed-in on Italy for a sojourn.
He composed erotic stories. She painted nude forms.
They lived happily ever after.
Once Upon A Time In Mexico
Dinner was just an excuse! – he confessed.
Are you always so upfront? – she asked.
He continued sipping on the Merlot.
She looked intently at him. He nodded.
In her Jeep, they locked lips.
Mexican chicas ain’t so easy – she said.
Indian chicos ain’t so easy too – he said.
Increasing the incline, she slid back her seat.
Err … Urban Legend
Near dawn, he stepped out for a breath of fresh air.
Cold breeze bit into him. Pulling his blazer together, he puffed his cigar.
When smoke cleared, a silhouette emerged.
In the blink of an eye, it disappeared.
Then his gaze met her red pupils and, sparkling teeth.
Before he realized, she’d holed his shoulder.
The Race To Neverland
Lifting his head up, turning his glance towards the horizon, he paused for a while.
Last few months had flurried across.
He had withdrawn himself into a cocoon, drifting away from her and everyone.
Zest for his passions was dwindling.
His weary eyes wandered back to the laptop.
Life IS a rat-race indeed – he mused.
Flights Of Fantasy
In skinny jeans and a halter top, a goddess appeared.
Their eyes met.
Till the entrance. Till the baggage screening. Until the check-in queue, he followed her.
She collected her boarding pass. He was peeping.
I’d prefer 36B – he blurted.
Sir! But this flight goes to Delhi, not Mumbai.
His face dropped.
Walking away, she chuckled.
Disembarking the Guilt Train
She teasingly dangled her bra before him. He was lost in thoughts.
She then flung her moist thong at him.
He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her juices.
His lust for her was slowly crushing all guilt pangs.
Pulling her by the leg, he bit her thigh.
She let out a pleasure moan.
When I wrote the last post, I too felt that it left wanting for more. There was no ending, per se. But with the self-imposed 55 word limit I couldn’t do much. This sequel carries the story forward. I even took the liberty of changing the last post’s title from the earlier – The Guilt Train. I seldom contemplate on writing short stories. That way, the word limit would be relaxed. Someday, maybe!
Onboard the Guilt Train
He never thought twice before sleeping with new women on the slightest of a chance.
But tonight was different.
With her voice ringing in his ears and her smile flashing in his mind, he was having second thoughts.
Why? Was it love? – he was alarmed.
He felt a pang of guilt tearing him apart.
He refrained.
