Love, sex aur...

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

She woke up a little dizzy, raised herself to sit on the bed. Her legs felt shaky. Long night...she thought. She glanced at her watch on the bedside table, a diametric line connecting 6 n 12. "too early!" Her clothes were strewn over the floor; her white top served a door mat,while jeans marked a midway, a brassiere hung limply from the corner of the bed; like charting a progression, on the ruffled bed sheet she saw spots of red.... she closed her eyes tight shut.

She tried to think...thoughts evaded her. She felt blank... drained. Thirsty... she walked towards the study table to reach the bottle. Every step felt an effort. 2 gulps... a naked image in the mirror across the room stared back at her. She ran her hand through her hair in partial disbelief, a few strands fell on her neck, her breasts, her feet.... she brushed them aside softly... it hurt, just touching herself. Her white skin had marks of red, blue, blue-black.. like she d crashed into a bush of thorns and bruised every bit of her.

A violent impulse drove her to spring across the room and grab her clothes. She tried not to feel them. Everything hurt at the moment. Things were coming back to her now... slowly.

"HE"... where's he? she frantically began looking for her cell. a metallic glint besides the pillow.

1 unread message, the screen flashed. She deliberated for a moment if to read it or not.

"you were great baby!! love you..." she scrolled down hoping for something. the message was timed 4 p.m

4 p.m.!!!!! she ran to the window and pulled open the curtains. birds chirped over a setting sun. she stared at her watch again. she rang his number... the ring passed unanswered, she tried twice, thrice... no reply.

"1... 2... 3... 4..." she began counting. "do something. Don't let your thoughts run, don't cry. Just stay calm. Just count. 1... 2... 3... 4... i should be happy, at least not sad, at least not miserable, at least not disgusted. Its not wrong. everyone does it. It's okay ain't it?

i love him, he loves me... love justifies... justifies everything. Its not a big deal. Its okay...

don't think...1...2...3...4....

why isn't he responding? why isn't he calling back? when did he leave? why did he leave? he never leaves without goodbye...

stop... count... 4...5...6... count steps"

she walked towards the bathroom. "i don't want to walk... where are you? why don't you pick the phone?...7...8...9..." the remnants of a joint lay in the waste basket besides a used condom.

her cell beeps..

"hey baby"

"hello....where were you"

"sleeping, you tired me..."a mischievous chuckle"i'd never dreamt u d b so amazing, i love the way you..."

"...." a sob

"hey what happened?"

"i don't feel right!"

laughs..."C'mon."

"It doesn't feel right!"

"its not a big deal..what the fuck is wrong with you? Its not like you've committed a sin, Its nothing. Everyone does it... you don't have to make this an issue. You love me don't you?"

"I do, but..."

"but what... what are you chickening about? we not kids any more....and it was SAFE!"

"I am not worried about that, it just doesn't feel right"

"you need sleep, just go get some rest. You will be okay."

"Why did you leave all of a sudden?"

" you were tired, you slept, what did you want me to do after that?"

"HUh!!!!????"

"gotta go bye...." the phone snaps.

the cell slipped between her fingers to the floor... Queasy.. she walked to the bathroom again.

Under the shower,as the first lines of water trickled down the length of her body to her feet, a weird sense of being cleansed took over her. n then an urge to scrub off all the marks of the past few hours. She wanted to scrub it off her body, out off her memory. She began scrubbing herself harder...useless... the reds only glared back at her brighter...

She clutched the shower knob and burst into tears. "i don't want all this... i told you. i told you so many times. Is this all you can think of? Is that all that it means to you to be in love. To submit to this one carnal desire? i feel like an object right now, a being, reduced to the level of an instrument to quench your libido

1...2...3...

Sex is not submissal, its an expression, its not where you lower yourself, its where you raise yourself, where you lose semblance of individuality, when you are not afraid to be you and still you know its not just being you. Its an enjoyment, a celebration. Its not just the groans and the moans... its not how deep u can reach or how hard u can get. Its not a style statement, its something really personal.

count...4...5...6...

Its sacred... its something you do with the purest of minds, without a selfish thought behind it. Love is not a means of sex, and neither the the other way round. Sex is not a means for anything...neither creation nor pleasure, pleasure is what comes to you on its own as a part of it. Its not how u feel when you are doing it tat matters, its about how you feel once its over.

10...12...

she walked out of the shower, water dripping from the tips of her hair.She sat on the edge of the bed.... she could still feel his presence. His hands sliding down her, smoothly and swiftly.... adapting to every revulsion of hers, sometimes a pull, sometimes a push, sometimes a violent plunge, his whispers in her ears...his lustful eyes, that made her shut her own tighter, like it would be easier if she dint see it all.

she picked her cell off the floor.

"hello..."

"yup"

"i need to meet you..."

"sure will catch up for dinner around 8?"

"k.."

"Your parents not yet home right? i was hoping for dessert after dinner!"chuckles.

....