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thanks..your comments on my last fantasy cheered me up a lot. okay IMPORTANT in january the mahan event called preliminary exams will start..and in march the all-deciding Boards..so for three-four months I can't really spend too much time on i-f..so my only request to you'll is...don't forget me..😆 i mean, when i come back with a bang don't ignore my fantasies..i'm sorry, but i really need to write and have people read my things..it's my lifetime obsession, even more than virman. 😆
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Afternoon Mischief
'Hello, Dominos?' asked Virat lazily.
'Yes sir, would you like to try our new Mexican-'
'Ermm no,' said Virat hurriedly, before the counter person's sales pitch could take away precious time from the one minute he had allotted himself for placing the order. 'Ermm, I'm speaking from Vadhera mansion. Yeah, the same number. Okay..one medium Cheese Burst Pepperoni and a Coke please. What? Really not interested, just send the pizza- fast.'
Virat hung up and looked around. Thank god Dadaji had not seen him, or else he would have been dead before the delivery guy completed his thirty-minute deadline.
Virat hated being punctual. For some reason, doing anything on time made him feel like the task was not worth it. However, in a house where the lunch timings were fixed, his eccentric phobia of timeliness got him into trouble. Today afternoon Viren bhaiyya had gone for a date with Jeevika bhabhi, having finally realized there was no way they could get any romantic moments in the house. Which meant that Virat had had to order the pizza himself. Tough job when Dadaji's James Bond was constantly lurking around.
'Virat bhaiyya?' asked Shlok, suspiciously popping his head out from behind a wall. Virat nearly died of fright. I don't know why they're paying Daniel Craig so much money when this chugalkhor is here. 'What?' he asked, looking here and there, 'don't have to study the Russian revolution or what?' 'Oh my god!' Shlok gasped, 'I forgot Lenin completely!', and then fled to his study, as if Lenin was his pet goldfish.
Virat flopped down on his bed, surfing through the various TV channels. My god, Hindi TV serials are more outdated than Swamini Bua's fashion sense, he thought, as he stumbled upon yet another TV serial where a mother-in-law with a shrill voice was cackling dialogues at a cowering bahu. I would never marry someone like that, especially given the character of the Hitlers that reside in my family.
The doorbell rang. Virat looked at his watch. Only twenty minutes had passed. Wow, they are fast, he thought. He hummed as he walked downstairs. Dadaji and Bua had left just a few minutes ago for the nearby country club with Chacha and Chachi. His mother was at the temple, and Shlok was busy decoding Communism. This is one of those picture-perfect moments when the road is completely clear, he thought contentedly. He only hoped Dadaji hadn't spotted the Dominos guy while driving out of the estate.
He opened the door and then nearly died of fright again.
Maanvi stood on the doorway, her hair tied up, wearing a red cap and the customary blue Dominos uniform. On her face was plastered a wide, manic grin that could have easily beaten Heath Ledger in the 'Evil-Joker' stakes. In her hands was a black bag that presumably contained his pizza, or knowing her, two hand grenades.
'Tum?' he spluttered in disbelief. His shock only caused her smile to widen further. He shook his head, and then pinched his arm when that did not work. There was now a pink blister two inches above his elbow, and Maanvi Choudhary had not yet vanished.
'Oh yeah,' she said, assuming a dour, what-can-I-do-for-you-sir face. 'Didn't I tell you that I got a summer job in Chandigarh for my college vacations?'
He frowned then remembered. Yeah, his Jeevika bhabhi had been quite happy for the past few days concerning that. But he had thought that they would probably meet somewhere outside, given that Swamini Bua disliked Maanvi's presence.
'I've taken a half-day so that I can meet di,' she beamed. 'My only problem was who would give me a lift till here...and even that was solved!' She stepped inside the house, shoving the bag into Virat's hands. 'Where's Di?' she asked, though her eyes were already surveying the mansion for her beloved elder sister.
'She's gone for a date with Viren bhaiyya,' he said absent-mindedly, poking his nose inside the bag and sniffing the pizza. Aah, the smell of melted cheese was pure heaven.
'What?' asked Maanvi, her face shrouded with disappointment. 'I can't believe I argued so much with Beeji only to find that Jeevika di wouldn't be here.'
'Well, no one can be lucky always,' he said, biting into the pizza. Oh god, his stomach had literally made pieces of his nervous system in those past twenty minutes. He would have ordered earlier had Dadaji not been lurking around.
'Nevermind,' she said nonchalantly, flipping down onto the sofa. He nearly choked on a piece of pepperoni. She was staying?
'Aise bland bland kyun khaa rahe ho?' she asked interested. 'Put something.' Before he could argue that he preferred having his first slice without any topping, she emptied a packet of oregano and red peppers on another slice and bit into it. Virat's innards nearly jumped out in protest. 'Oye teekhi mirch, mere gale main kuch to utarne de.' She ignored him and gorged on the pizza.
Not to be defeated in such matters, Virat sprinkled twice the amount of herbs Maanvi had and snatched away a third slice from her fingers, which were covered with cheese and bread crumbs. The chilli bits burnt his tongue, but he relished the way his body recoiled as the spice stung his tastebuds. Apparently, Maanvi seemed to enjoy it too, for before they knew it, all the red pepper packets were gone and only one slice was left.
'Half-half,' she said generously. He smiled, a genuine, innocent smile. Then he grabbed the pizza and stuffed it into his mouth. She watched, half-fascinated, half-disgusted, and fully enraged as tomato sauce dribbled down his chin and he shot her a triumphant smile. As a sudden rush of hormones and a twenty-one year old girl's immaturity clouded her head, she lunged forward to grab a piece of pizza that was still projecting from his mouth.
Unfortunately, Virat swallowed it at the same time, and fully aware of Maanvi's lips making a mad dash for his, he tumbled backwards, falling on the sofa. Due to an unknown law of physics, Maanvi fell on him, her mind buzzing with the disappointment of having let him have the last slice.
She looked at him, the expression on her face reminiscent of that of Virat in his kindergarten photos. A few strands of hair fell over her eyes, and Virat unconsciously tucked them behind her ear. The feeling of his palms caressing her cheeks seemed to have no effect on her however. 'Cheater!' she shouted, focusing two laser beams on him. 'Sshh..' he silenced her. 'Or else one of Dadaji's butlers will see us.'
She pouted, and Virat laughed his short, incomplete laugh, which was a bit like his flawed, only partly-visible self. Maanvi wondered whether she would have been able to be like this with him if he had been a perfect Vadhera man, like Dadaji or Viren jiju.
Now that their stomach's needs had been satisfied, they both felt another, peculiar hunger rearing its head inside him. He looked into her eyes and they both realized that not only was the feeling mutual, but the sofa was also suddenly a very inappropriate place for both of them to be lying together.
As she giggled and sprinted upstairs, he wondered whether Shlok had fallen asleep studying the Bolsheviks. If he had, he prayed to God that he maintained his state of shut-eye for some more while.
He followed her slowly, careful not to look too hasty or desperate, though he was both. She poked her head outside the guest bedroom, sticking out her tongue at him. He narrowed his eyes and chased her inside. As she retreated backwards, he closed the door behind him.
'Let's have a pillow fight,' she teased. He smirked as she picked up a pillow and aimed it at him. He caught it in his hands just a nanosecond before it hit his face and tossed it away. Undeterred, she threw another pillow, which again received the same treatment. Finally, Maanvi's ammunition of pillows got over and she looked at him nervously, her palms growing clammy.
'Look Chep,' she said, looking for ways of escape, 'abhi hamaari shaadi nahi hui hai.'
'Ho jaayegi,' he drawled, 'ismein kaunsi badi baat hai. It's just that I hate doing things on time.'
She closed her eyes, expecting him to tackle her onto the bed. Instead he tenderly encircled her waist with his arms, as if he was already aware that there would be no resistance from her.
'Shouldn't we freshen up first?' she interrupted, as the tube light finally flickered and then came to life inside her mind. 'I mean, we've just had our lunch.'He frowned, then relaxed. 'Why not?' he said, withdrawing his arms. 'In fact, I'm feeling quite harried now. I think we both should take a shower.'
'Of course,' she said cheerily, 'even I'm pretty tired after delivering pizzas all afternoon-' before freezing abruptly as she realized the kinky undertone to his otherwise harmless suggestion.
She felt her panic being replaced by an odd, hazy feeling as he placed his hands on her back and gently pushed her into the bathroom. She stood there, nervously, her legs shaking, as he propped her up against the glass walls of the shower. He stripped her down carefully, removing only her uniform, as some unknown respect for the poor Mogambos who were clueless to their mischief prevented him from completely allowing himself to revel in her beauty. He then peeled off his shirt, keeping his jeans intact, and switched on the shower, delightedly making sure that the ice cold water hit her first. She gave a small yelp, giving him enough time to make sure that she was completely trapped in his embrace before the water turned warm and nice.
He moved his finger down her cheek, tracing her soft, cold skin with his rough, warm one. She turned her head away as he moved his lips over her face, wanting to possess every inch of her. His hands moved down to stroke her flat, exposed belly and slowly, she extended her hands so that they tightly gripped his shoulders.
After a few minutes, they broke apart, breathless with the pure shame and excitement of what they had just done. 'Virat,' she gulped out, and he understood. There were some limits which they couldn't cross right now. Which was a shame, for even having broken the rules this much had been more satisfying than any delicacy he had had in his life.
They dried themselves outside, careful to stay away from each other lest they should lose control again. He admired her as she dressed, and Maanvi felt oddly self-conscious now that they were in the real world again.
As they trooped downstairs, they heard the noises of the Vadheras returning from their afternoon sojourn. A sleepy Shlok was wandering in the living room in a daze.
'Virat bhaiyya why didn't you wake me up? I need to finish Lenin before tomorrow you know,' he said accusingly. Virat shared a tiny hint of a smile with Maanvi. Phew. Everything was back to normal.
Well, until they found the right moment anyway.
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