“Chintu has been bugging me a lot. His mischief knows no end. He never accepts the fact that he stole the milk… I've told him like a gazillion times not to do that. It is for Chinky, she needs it more than him… I don't know how to make him stop.” She was talking incessantly about his son, Chintu, and younger daughter Chinky.
The AC compartment of the luxury bus was dimply lit by a zero watt orange bulb. The temperature was nippy, but we were perspiring. I was on top of her, just like we did it for the first time. Five days ago. At night, on the upper-berth-sleeper-seat. We were traveling back home after attending a five-day marriage ceremony of one of my elder-cousin-sister. We shared a single room at our forefather's mansion in a small village where the ceremony took place. Those last five days were the best five days of my entire life. We fornicated a lot. She hasn't yet blown or allowed me to penetrate her bottom so far. But still…
“Stop here!” Sonalima asked the cab driver. “Here?” The cab driver asked back, a bit amazed “Yes, that's what I said. Please stop the cab.” Sonalima said.
I can still remember the day I had seen her adorn herself extensively. She was putting all sorts of ornaments, lipstick, mascara, and makeup. Her bedroom door was slightly open. My father being a government school teacher, was out of station for his training. It was rather uncanny why she was putting on her glad rags for no apparent reasons.
