Disclaimer: View it only if you're 18+ and if you don't find #erotica offensive. I won't encourage negative comments if they're pertaining to the genre of the story.
Also my first try in the genre. Could be boring :P just warning you haha.
This morning, I woke up to see you missing in my bed. It was 5 am, and I couldn't think of a reason you'd be awake that early. I was sure you left. Maybe you didn't enjoy the sex, or maybe you just wanted a one night stand.
Honestly, if it weren't for you, I'd have never even thought of spending the night like that. When I saw you on the dance floor last night, I was not only drunk on alcohol but also with your charm. It wasn't long before my instincts pulled me towards you and we began flirting. Again, let me clarify that I usually mind my own business. But last night was different.
We danced, and oh god, should I even begin to describe it... For all I know, my body was doing things it had never done. My moves, so perfectly in sync with yours, as if rehearsed, and our gaze on each other, as though we had found a treasure. The intimacy we felt couldn't be ignored as I held my hand hidden behind your back, slowly feeling your lovely curves and your warm lips, casually caressing my neck.
There was so much sexual tension between us, and when you whispered to me that you wanted me, all so teasingly, I couldn't help but agree. You were a tough person to say no to.
I honestly didn't want you to leave. I hoped for you to stay and tell me that you wanted more of me. But when I saw you weren't in my bedroom, as disappointed as I was, I realised I had to move on and try to convince myself it didn't mean anything. That was when I heard a sound of the washroom door open, only to see you clad in nothing but my blue towel. You came in, smiling, as I looked at you for the first time in my sobriety. Those naked legs of yours, crossed, water dripping from them and your wet hair, messily falling off your shoulders, somehow turned me on. And your breasts slightly peaking from beneath the towel only intrigued me to see them again. That moment, I couldn't help but wonder what use the towel would be of, if it didn't just fall off your body.
And to my surprise, it did. And you came to me like that, and whispered to me again, 'I want you.'
This tale was losely inspired by the #towel challenge, where we had to write on an imaginative use of the towel. This is what my imagination was, only it was way too long :P
(Tamil words used: Aachi- Grandmother, Appa- Father, Amma- Mother)
It was the summer holidays. Eight year old Millenia sat by the window, daydreaming about the previous summers. Oh, how she had loved visiting Aachi every year at their ancestral home with its garden and the little pond! Thinking about that brought back the memories of all the delicacies Aachi used to cook for her. The sweet fluffy little paniyarams, crisp homemade papads seasoned with cumin seeds and the mouth-watering tangy spicy mango pickle.
“Don’t you miss Aachi?“, She asked Oswald who was lolling on her bed. The cat looked at her and purred.
“I know Appa said that she is with God. I think this God person is really mean”, Millennia said with resignation. Oswald rolled down from the bed and jumped into her lap. She ran her fingers through his glossy brown hair petting him.
Millenia went over the contents of the Aachi’s old trunk case for the second time that day. A pocket diary fell down from a folded blanket. The edges were blunt, pages faded but legible. It was a handwritten recipe book with Aachi’s signature dishes! Excited, Millenia ran off to find her mom.
“Amma, can you make Aachi’s mango pickle with this?” She asked clutching the recipe book. Her mom’s eyes clouded as she nodded.
Fifteen minutes later, Millenia with enough money in her hand and Oswald on her heels went to buy raw mangoes and fenugreek seeds. Her mom had said it’s the fenugreek seeds along with asafoetida that made Aachi’s pickle so special. But even after visiting almost every shop in the market Millennia couldn’t get the fenugreek seeds.
“What do we do now Oswald?” She asked miserably and Oswald purred again.
“You know purring doesn’t always help?” She snapped and the cat meowed its disapproval.
They ran into Prem uncle, her father’s friend, in the market and Oswald hissed. Millenia couldn’t blame Oswald. Ever since Prem uncle had sat on the couch mistaking a sleeping Oswald to a cushion, they had hated each other.
“What’s the matter kiddo?” Prem uncle asked Millenia with concern and she felt like crying. His eyes softened as she explained the situation. He asked her if she knew anything about the Root rot.
“Root what?” Millenia asked confused.
“It’s a disease that has destroyed almost all the fenugreek plants in our country. It will be some time before we can grow new plants.” Prem uncle explained.
On reaching home, Millenia noticed a draw string pouch at her table that she concluded must have fallen from Aachi’s trunk. She undid the string and found a fistful of yellow-brown fenugreek seeds in it.
Later that night after of meal of rice and mango pickle she wondered, “How did Aachi know we would need fenugreek seeds?”
When her mom remained silent, Millenia continued “Maybe Aachi never really left us. She has just become invisible”.
Oswald, who was gazing at the kitchen garden where they had planted the rest of the fenugreek seeds, purred his agreement.