Bhawna is a forty-seven-year-old woman. She runs a boutique and is a fashion designer. Her husband Pankaj is in the merchant navy; hence mostly spends his time on or around the sea. Pankaj and Bhawna met in Goa a long time ago when they were both out on a trip with their friends. They hit it off instantly and fell in love with each other. Bhawna was merely nineteen and in her second year of college. She was as fertile at that age as a female could get.
On March 24, 2020, Prime Minister called for a complete lockdown of the entire nation for 21 days to contain the COVID-19 pandemic. In a televised address to the country, he said that even those nations with the best medical facilities could not curb the virus and that social distancing is the only option to mitigate it. The decision got proposed from the experiences of health sector experts and experiences of other countries and that 21 days is essential to break the chain of infection.
“So let's start from the beginning, Kabir. Shall we?” The woman in her late thirties asked the young man handcuffed to his chair.
Mohini enters the bathroom for a shower, but that's when she remembers that she has to wash her hair. The old shampoo bottle was exhausted, so she had to go back to get the new bottle. She steps out of the bathroom and looks for the shampoo bottle around her bedside table. She found it in almost no time and, picks it up. She turned around to get back inside the bathroom. Before she could take another step, a muffled moan reverberates her eardrums.
“Oh, dear lord.. thank you, god you woke up.” Kabir intoned, gleefully staring at Sanjana. Sanjana looks at Kabir with a perplexed countenance; Kabir keeps beaming a passionate smile at her.
My sleep was disturbed by the noise of someone cleaning the clothes. The noise was of strokes of the brush over foamy fabric; it was coming from the bathroom. I think maybe it’s my wife. But then I recall my wife has left for her mother’s place and won’t be coming back until next week. Perhaps, she is back early. I propose a hypothesis to myself.
She’d brought Paneer from the market and made the Matar-Paneer dish for me as it was my all-time favorite. I can evoke the time when we were young, living under the same roof. She would always cook the same dish rather than our mother. It’s been well over a year since I’d tasted the Matar-Paneer from her hand.
Sunita was fooling around her son’s phone in an attempt to see if he was up to no good. She’d recently read on the internet everyone seems to be fap-chatting in some way or the other. She wanted to prevent him from landing in any trouble at his adolescent age. Scrolling around, she didn’t find anything. She was about to keep the phone away until she observed a thumbnail that had an odd-looking thumb on it. But it wasn’t a thumb indeed. It was something that made her mouth water and petals moist. The primal nature of the odd-looking thumb and how much she wanted to hold it, caress it, and get hammered by it stimulates her womanhood. And then it hits her. It’s her son’s pego. She recognized the bathroom tiles in the background of that image. She hurriedly puts the phone away, disgusted by herself.
Nadia was a well-renowned and heavily rewarded TV actress. She had over ten million followers on Instagram, one million on YouTube, and so on. Nadia was at the peak of her carrier and had a busy schedule shooting for TV serials, songs, or modeling for branded companies and media houses. She had more fame and wealth than she could spend in her seven lifetimes.
