Anjali ne right chappal ka tasma abhi pakda hi tha jab maine uska naam zor se liya. “Ruk.” Surat ki us gali workshop mein fan dheere ghum raha tha, aur uske haath darwaze ki kundi tak pahunch chuke the.
“Dukaan band ho jayegi,” usne bina mud ke kaha. Neeli cotton kurta uski kamar par silwati hui thi, jeans ka neeche ka hemm thoda sasta rang chhupa raha tha. Hum dono ne shaam ka coloring khatam kar diya tha, isliye uska jaana seedha lag raha tha.
Main drawing table ke paas khada raha. “Ek baat hai. Maine subah ek naya page print kiya. Tumhare character ka. Nanga. Hum dono jaisa.” Itni si admission ke baad uski ungli tasma par ruki. Chappal haath mein latak gayi.
Jaane se pehle rukna
Woh mudhi. Uski aankhen pehle mere chehre par gayi, phir table ke kone mein rakhe safed sheet par. Hindustan mein aise adult comics aksar dabe hue rehte hain, dukaanon ke peeche, lekin yeh sheet hamare beech khula pada tha.
“Dikhao,” usne kaha, awaaz patli. Maine sheet aage kiya. Panel mein ek aurat table par leti thi, pair khule, aur mard uski thighs ke beech jhuka hua tha. Chehra Anjali jaisa tha, baal bhi uske jaise lambe. Neeche balloon mein wohi private joke likha tha jo hum sirf raat ko kehte the.
Anjali ne chappal table ke neeche rakh di. Kapde abhi poore the, lekin uski saans tez ho gayi. “Yeh tumne kab banaya?”
“Kal raat, jab tum soch rahi thi next issue ka cover. Maine pehle sirf sketch socha, phir raha nahi gaya.” Maine jhoot nahi kiya, na hi usko rokne ki koshish ki. Agar woh ab bhi nikalna chahti, kundi khuli hi thi.
Usne page ko dono haathon se pakda. Panel ke neeche meri inking ki ghalti thi, ek extra line uski kamar ke paas. Anjali ki ungli us line par ruki, phir uski nazar mere jeans ke zip par chali gayi. Workshop ki ek hi tube light thi, garam, thodi si jhilaati hui.
“Main dukan ke liye nahi jaungi abhi,” usne kaha. “Yeh page dekh ke mere pair nahi hil rahe.” Itna keh kar usne mera t-shirt ka kinaara pakda. “Agar tum bhi yahin rukna chahte ho, to rukho. Nahi to main chappal pehen lun.”
Maine sir hilaya aur uske kareeb aa gaya. Itna hi. Uske baad na usne sawal dohraya, na maine. Anjali ne khud aage badh kar mera munh chuma, halke se pehle, phir gehra. Uski jeeb meri daant ke peeche gayi, aur mere lund ne jeans ke andar dhakka diya.
Niyat palat dene wala page
Page table par sirak gaya. Anjali ne meri belt kholi, zipper neeche kiya, aur haath ke andar se mera lund nikaal kar pakda. Garam, sakht, uski mutthi ke daayre mein. Maine uski kurta ki button ek ek karke kholi, bra ke upar se uske nipples ko ungliyon se ragda. Uski body meri taraf dhal gayi.
Jeans uski hips par atki. Maine ghutnon ke bal baith kar patti kheenchi, panty ke saath. Uski chut pehle se geeli thi, baal geele kaale, fold ke beech chamak. Maine zubaan di, ek lamba chat, phir clit par gol. Anjali ki ungliyan mere baal mein ghus gayin. “Ishan… tez mat… nahi, wahi.”
Table ki kinare uski raniyon ko uthaye rakhti thi. Main neeche se chata raha, do ungliyan uski chut mein dheere ghusaata, uski thighs meri kanpatti se dabi. Surat ki gali se scooter ki speed ki awaaz aayi, door, phir khatam. Hum akele the. Uski saans toot kar meri kaan ke paas nahi, mere sir ke upar phaili.
“Utho,” usne kaha, aur khud table se utar kar mujhe khada kiya. Kurta uske kandhon se slither karke floor par giri, bra usne peeche se khol di. Nangi khadi thi, pet ki lakir, chhota til left breast ke neeche. Maine apna t-shirt sir ke upar se nikaala, shorts bhi. Mera lund uske pet se takraya.
Anjali ne jeans ki peeche wali pocket se condom nikaala, packet phaada, aur mere lund par roll kiya. Latex thanda laga, phir uski mutthi ne garam kar diya. Usne mujhe table ki taraf dhakka diya, khud meri god mein chadh gayi, pair dono taraf. Maine uski kamar pakdi. Uski chut ne mere lund ka sir liya, ruk kar, phir dheere baith gayi.
Andar geela tight tha. Anjali ne apna maatha mere maathe se lagaaya. Pehle dhakke chhote the, uski thighs meri thighs ko ragadti. Table ki lakdi chikni nahi thi, uski gaand ke neeche paper ke kone katte. Maine page ko ek side sarka diya taaki fold na ho, sirf itna, phir uski chut mein poora dhasa.
Woh karah uthi. “Aur andar.” Maine kamar se uthaya, neeche se dhakka diya. Har baar uski chut meri jhad se chipakti, clit meri pubic bone se ragad khaati. Uski aankhen band thin, munh khula, neeche ke daant dikhte. Maine left nipple muh mein liya, daant se halka kaata. Uski ungli meri gardan ke peeche kasti rahi.
Thodi der baad usne khud rhythm badla, upar neeche, tez. Table hilne lagi. Tube light ki jhilmil uske paseene wali collarbone par padi. Bharat ke is chhote workshop mein humne kai covers banaye the, lekin aaj koi cover nahi banna tha. Sirf uski geeli awaaz, mere lund ka khiskaao, aur kabhi kabhi uska daant mere kaan ke niche.
“Palat,” maine kaha. Anjali utri, table ki taraf jhuki, haath sheet ke dono kinare par. Uski gaand meri taraf, uski chut khuli, geeli line jaanghon par. Maine peeche se ghusaaya, ek hi dhakke mein. Uski kamar ne jhatka liya. Maine apna ek haath uski chut ke aage laakar clit masla, doosra uske baal pakad kar dheere kheencha. Woh pichhe ko dhakka deti rahi, meri balls uski thighs se takrati.
Condom ke andar garam ho chuka tha. Anjali ki awaaz dab kar nikal rahi thi, “Haan… wahi… mat nikaalo.” Maine nikaala nahi. Tez kiya. Uski chut ne baar baar kasav diya, paani meri ungliyon tak aaya. Jab uska orgasm aaya to uski raniyan kaampi, pair ki ungliyan floor ko khenchti, aur uski saans ek lambi saans ban kar tooti.
Maine usi kasav ke beech apna dhakka teez kiya, do, teen, phir ruk kar bahar nikalna chaaha, lekin usne pichhe haath dekar meri gaand pakad li. “Andar condom mein hi.” Maine dabaaye rakha, lund dhadka, cum latex ke andar bhar gaya. Anjali ki chut ne last kasav diya, phir dheeli hui.
Hum table se chipke khade rahe. Paseena uski peeth ki lakeer par behne laga. Maine condom pakad kar nikala, knot maara, kude ke dibbe mein daala. Anjali abhi bhi jhuki thi, saans sambhalti. Maine uski kamar par haath rakha, sirf thame rehne ke liye. Usne munh ghumaaya, hans diya, thaka hua.
“Yeh page ab saaf nahi dikhega,” usne kaha. Sheet par uski hatheli ka geela nishaan tha, ek chhota ink ka dhabba bhi jo meri kalai se lag gaya tha. Maine koi safaai nahi shuru ki. Usne khud bra pehni, kurta uthayi, button galat hole mein daali, phir theek ki.
Jeans ke liye usne pair uthaye. Panty usne pocket mein dali, jeans seedha pehen li. Main shorts aur t-shirt pehen kar darwaze se hat gaya, raasta diya. Uski aankhen phir page par gayi. Panel ab bhi wahi tha, lekin ab uske kinare mude hue the.
Nishaan lekar nikal padi woh
Anjali ne chappal bahar nikaali, pehle left, phir right. Tasma bandh te waqt uski ungli kaamp nahi rahi thi. Usne printed page ko do baar fold kiya, kurta ki badi pocket mein saraya, kinaara andar daba diya. Fan ab bhi ghum raha tha.
Kundi usne khud ghumaayi. Gali ki hawa andar aayi, dhoop nahi, sirf shaam ki gandh, kachre wali nali aur dur kisi ke kitchen ka tadka. “Kal color dungi,” itna bol kar woh dehleez paar ho gayi. Ordinary si chaal thi, koi mud kar dekhna nahi.
Darwaza uske peeche halka sa hila, poora band nahi hua. Maine kundi nahi lagayi. Uski pocket ka kinaara gali ke lamp ke neeche ek pal ko safed chamka, phir woh mod par gayab ho gayi, page ke saath.
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