2.c

She rolls over. Holds me in her legs and leans over me, pressing me down by shoulders. She runs her hands down my chest. I rise myself up to pull her down to me. It’s the colour. Dairy milk chocolate. I want to take a bite. My chocolate knows it. She grabs me by my arms and presses me down again. Smart chocolate. Sometimes I loose my patience in such moments. I struggle to take a bite. Chocolate likes to make me strive for itself. She moves her miracles over me. I struggle again to reach them with my mouth. Chocolate holds me down harder. She gently rubs them over my lips quickly. I yearn for them more. She pulls them back and bends her head. Her hair flow down on my face. With a flick of her head, she spreads them around my face. In the veil of her hair, I see her face. Her eyes twinkle in their shade. The fragrance from her hair fills the space between us. The urge in me soothes as it seeps into me. She bends her hair further and lowers her face towards mine. I see her approaching. Chiseled ebony face surrounded by stripes of light, the gaps in the cloak of her hair. I close my eyes. She touches my lips with hers. We open our mouths and passion spins itself in a ballet within their enclosure.

She starts jerking herself during this succulent trance. One of her hand looses its hold on my hand and works on the link between us. We conjoin. The miracles rub on my chest. She gains a new rhythm. Culmination starts building up itself within me. Every moment its makes itself stronger. It moves in steps towards the conclusion. The momentum arouses through her. The pinnacle is approached with a rapid pace. She looses her hold over my hands. I garb her and press her against me. Her arms wrap me in them. The moment of conclusion arrives. We hold each other tight. Her voice fills the haze. The darkness in my closed eyes glitters up. The florescence spreads. My teeth dig into her ear.

“Manish….” she cries.
“Anay…” I shout.
“Sorry…” She cries in a hoarse voice.
I yell. Her hoarseness conjures up with my roar. He nails dig into my back. A tightest grip. And we loosen up.

She rests her head on my chest. I run my fingers on the slopes of her back like playing a cello. She rests her palms on my chest and parks her chin on them, looking at me. I look at her.

“Manish… ” I say mischievously and smile.
“Used to…” She says and smiles grimly.
I kiss her forehead.

A moment of silence passes between us. We search for a topic to assasinate her guilt and destroy it. Mission guilt tilt. She succeds.

"You know what..." she begins.

"What??" I ask relieved to know that she has a subject.

“Harshad is in love…” she says.

(Contd.)