“FUCKING HELL! MOTHERFUCKING SHIT! FUCK…FUCK… FFFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!”
Ranvir slammed his hands on the car’s bonnet as he screamed out in frustration. He kicked the car’s tyre, hit the bonnet again, not caring about leaving behind dents. It wasn’t his car, after all. It was a friend’s car; he’d just been using it to make out with a girl.
The girl? Niharika had left. She had stormed out of the car just a couple of minutes back, pulling her halter top up, which, when she got out of the car, was bunched around her waist. As she walked briskly back to the pub, adjusting the straps of her top back in place, Niharika heard the guy she’d just been with scream out. She didn’t care, he deserved it. He deserved being left alone with a boner; he deserved the whack she’d given him on his face before she left. Her right hand was clutched into an angry fist, her animal-print bra dangled from her left hand.
“Fuck, man! How can I be so dumb? Shit, man! Shit, shit, shit!” Ranvir was talking to no one else but himself. His boner wasn’t there anymore; it’d gone with her slap. His fly was still open, though. She had unzipped it herself, with her pretty little fingers, nails painted pink; while he kissed her pretty pink lips, painted red that night.
Her lipstick wasn’t there anymore; it’d been eaten away by the boy who’d been all over her face and neck a few minutes back. Niharika looked at herself in the washroom mirror. Her hair was messed up, but thankfully, her eye-shadow wasn’t. She didn’t wear much else in the form of make-up; her flawless skin didn’t require her to. Niharika pulled out a tissue from the dispenser, wiped off what little of her lipstick Ranvir had not eaten away and hand-brushed her hair back into place.
While Ranvir yanked a pack of smokes out of his denims to calm himself down, Niharika had made her way into one of the stalls in the washroom. While Ranvir pulled his Zippo out and lit a cigarette, Niharika pushed her top down and looked at her breasts, cupping them with her hands. “Fucking asshole,” she muttered, still seething. “Why do I always end up with the biggest jerks?” She wondered aloud, putting her bra on.
“Why do I always mess things up with hot babes?” Ranvir wondered aloud, shaking his head, at himself. He stubbed the cigarette out under his shoe, and walked back inside the pub. As he walked in, showing the bouncer at the door the stamp on his right wrist, Ranvir nearly bumped into Niharika. She was coming out of the ladies’ loo; she saw him stop in his tracks and gave him a look that was so icy it could have done more damage to the Titanic than that infamous iceberg had done.
“Niharika, listen,” Ranvir called out. “Listen, I’m sorry I…”
“Just shut up, okay?” Niharika cut him off. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
She walked away. He cussed himself under his breath, and walked into the pub behind her.
“Hey, babe, we didn’t expect to see you back?” Niharika’s friend, Payal said.
Niharika didn’t say anything to her. She asked her other friend, Shruti to please get her a drink.
Meanwhile, Ranvir’s pals were surprised to see him back so soon. They were eager to know what had happened, and how much had happened. But Ranvir wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Niharika wasn’t either. “Did you guys do it?” Payal asked, even so. “No,” Niharika replied.
Again, Ranvir’s pals were surprised when he told them he hadn’t done it with the girl. “What did you do then?” they asked. “We kissed,” Ranvir told them, to which they asked, “That’s it?”
Things had started out well, Niharika told Payal and Shruti. They had got into the car’s backseat, started kissing. He was a good kisser; she was lost for a bit. He had started to feel her up, but she didn’t mind. His hand running up her arm, lightly massaging her thigh, it felt good. Real good, she told her friends.
Her lips were soft and supple; Ranvir elaborated for his pals, her skin was smooth. When she didn’t resist his hands on her arm and thigh, he moved to the front of her top and placed his palm on her breast. He squeezed her breast softly, she moaned into his mouth.
Niharika told her friends that he wasn’t harsh, he was gentle. She broke the kiss and leaned back when his hands found her breast. His lips moved to her neck, his hand kept kneading her breast softly. It felt awesome, she told them.
Ranvir wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling of kissing her neck, he told his pals he loved the smell, feel, and taste of her. He was getting hard by then; he wanted to take things further. He took one of her hands in his, and placed it over the fly of his denims.
He seemed big, Niharika said. He got bigger as she rubbed her palm over the front of his denims. Unzipping his fly wasn’t easy, but she managed after a couple of tugs. As her hand went in, his hand went to the strap of her top. She cupped his manhood over his boxers; he pulled her top down to expose her bra.
It was a sexy, animal-print bra, Ranvir explained, something like a tiger’s skin. Her hand was massaging his fully-erect member; things were getting uncomfortable for him. He kissed her on the neck again, and unclasped her bra with surprising ease.
“He removed your bra?” Shruti cooed. “Wow, you reached that far!” Payal wanted to know something else, “Did you pull his thing out of his boxers?” Niharika shook her head; she didn’t, she said.
Ranvir’s pals were waiting for him to tell them more. When he didn’t, they prodded him, only to be told, “That’s it.” They were aghast. “Why? What went wrong?’ they demanded. Ranvir wondered if he should tell them she’d slapped him.
“You slapped him? Why?” Payal and Shruti asked, together. “He laughed,” Niharika told them. He had chuckled at the sight of her breasts. “They’re so small, he said,” Niharika told her friends.
That comment had come out of Ranvir’s mouth unintended, much like the slight chuckle, but it had prompted Niharika into slapping him. And then she’d pushed the door open, and jumped out, leaving him behind, flabbergasted.