Brush meri ungliyon se phisalte-phisalte girne hi wala tha jab Harsh ne panel ke upar ungli rakh di. “Yeh kamar itni seedhi nahi ho sakti,” usne kaha, itna paas ki uski saans meri gardan tak aa rahi thi.
Ink ke dabbe ke paas khadi thi main, cotton kurta peeth se chipak rahi thi. Pune ki shaam bhari thi aur fan tez ghuma, lekin comics ka last page table par adhura pada tha.
“Club wale page uthane aayenge,” maine uski taraf dekhe bina bola. “Kal Bharat bhar ke stalls par yeh strip dikhni hai. Sirf dimaag se yeh sex wali panel nahi banegi.”
Harsh ke kandhe t-shirt mein tane hue the. “Tune kaha tha hum ek doosre ko model nahi banayenge. Sirf mannequin aur yaad. Main wahi samajha tha.”
Mera haath brush par kas gaya. “Photography ki baat hui thi. Live pose ki nahi. Wada alag tha, tu alag pakad ke baitha hai.”
Uski aankhen panel se uth kar meri aankhon se takrayi. Koi jhagda nahi tha, sirf woh gali jo dono ne alag padhi thi. “Toh ab kya hai? Page chahiye, aur pose bhi. Tu bol, rukun ya haath rakhun.”
Brush table par rakh diya maine. “Haath rakh. Character ki kamar aisi nahi, meri kamar dekh. Kapde rahenge. Bas line samajh.”
Uske haath ne meri kamar pakdi, kapde ke upar se. Garam tha. Panel ke balloon mein likha tha ek aurat ke muh se aayi hui awaaz, lekin us awaaz ka wazan meri saans mein aa gaya.
“Yahan se curve,” Harsh bola, aur uski ungli ne meri kamar ke niche jeans ki belt tak halke se sarak. Club ka wada sir par tha, lekin uska haath jhooth nahi bol raha tha.
India mein aise comics bikte hain, jhoothi line turant pakdi jaati hai. Maine uska haath apni kamar par dabaye rakha, hataaya nahi. “Agar pose lena hai to lena, lekin photo nahi. Wada wahi rehta hai.”
Usne sir hilaya. “Photo nahi. Sirf dekh ke draw. Aur agar tu rukna chahe to main brush uthata hoon.” Itna kaafi tha. Maine uski t-shirt ki cloth ko ungli se kheench kar khud ko uske seene se laga liya.
Pehle wade ki asli gur
Uska muh meri gardan par ruka, phir meri chin uthayi, aur usne chuma. Ink ki gandh aur uske munh ka namak ek saath tha. Maine uske baal pakad liye, kheecha nahi, bas rakha, jaise panel ki dark line ko theek jagah rokna hota hai.
“Yeh ab draw nahi ho raha,” maine honth ke paas kaha. “Tu chaahe to yahin ruk. Main bhi ruk sakti hoon.”
“Rukna nahi hai,” Harsh ne dheere kaha, aur uska haath meri kurta ki neeche se kamar ki chamdi tak gaya. Maine uski kalaai dabaayi, hataayi nahi. Jeans ki button meri ungliyon ke neeche thi, uski nahi.
Kurta upar utha, usne meri bra ke upar munh rakha, kapde geele kiye. Meri aankhen band nahi hui. Table ke kone par woh adhura balloon ab bhi khali tha, jaise koi aurat abhi bolna baaki ho. Uski thighs meri thighs se ragad kha rahi thin, denim denim se.
“Button,” maine kaha. Harsh ne meri jeans kholi, zipper ne woh chhoti si awaaz di jo studio ke fan se alag thi. Maine uski jeans ki belt nikal di, kheench ke. Dono ke kapde ghutnon tak utre, poori tarah nahi, bas utna jitne se haath andar ja sake.
Meri chut garam thi, uski ungli pehle bahar se phiri, phir andar. Panel wali aurat ko maine aisi hi line di thi, lekin us line mein wazan nahi tha. Ab wazan tha. Harsh ki saans meri collarbone par toot rahi thi.
“Aur neeche,” maine kaha, aur table ke kinare apni kamar sarka di. Sketchbook khisak kar brush ke dabbe se takrai, giri nahi. Uska lund jeans ke andar se nikal aaya, garam, meri pet ke neeche. Maine usko haath mein liya, upar se neeche, jaise nib ki motai check karti hoon.
Usne meri thighs kholi, munh nahi lagaya pehle. Sirf dekha. “Yeh curve page par nahi aa raha tha.” Maine uske baal ke beech ungliyan ghusa di. “Ab mat dekh ke draw kar. Ab kar.”
Tab uska munh meri chut par aaya, jeebh slow, phir tez. Meri ungliyan uske kandhon par kasi. Table ki wood meri kamr ke neeche khurdari thi, lekin dard use kaat raha tha. Main awaaz nikalne se pehle balloon ki tarah munh band rakhti, phir chhod di.
Harsh ne sir uthaya, honth chamak rahe the. “Page par yeh bubble chhota likha hai. Sach mein chhoti nahi hai yeh awaaz.” Maine uske honth se apna maza chakhne ke liye use upar kheench liya, chuma, daant se uska lower lip dabaaya.
Jean ki jeb se usne condom nikala. Packet ki sarsarahat brush jitni saaf thi. Maine sir hila diya. Usne lund par khinch liya, dekh ke confirm kiya, phir meri taraf aaya.
Table ke kinare meri thighs uske kamr ke dono taraf thin. Pehla dhakka dheere tha, meri chut ne pakda, phir chhoda, phir pakda. Maine uski peeth par t-shirt ko upar kheench diya, nanga seena meri bra ke kapde se ragda. Bra abhi thi. Usne cup neeche sarkaaye, munh se meri nipple dabaayi, kaati nahi.
“Line weight yahan bhaari kar,” maine saans ke beech kaha, aur uska matlab sex se tha, ink se nahi. Harsh hansne ke bajaye aur andar gaya. Meri kamar table se uthi, giri, uthi. Fan ki hawa ab sirf peeth tak aa rahi thi, beech mein nahi.
Panel se zyada garam fasla
Uska haath meri gardan ke peeche gaya, doosra meri thighs ke neeche. Pace badla, phir ruk kar poocha nahi, sirf meri aankhon ko pada. Maine ungli se uske honth par ek chhoti line kheench di, jaise panel mein speed mark. Woh samajh gaya. Is baar dhakke gehre hue.
Meri chut geeli thi, condom ke upar bhi wazan mehsoos ho raha tha. Kabhi kabhi uska lund nikal kar phir ghusta, aur har baar meri saans ek balloon jaisi phoolti. Khali balloon table par ab bhi suna tha. Maine haath pichhe karke us paper ko apni taraf sarkaaya, ink nahi lagayi, sirf rakha, jaise gawah ko bagal mein rakhna.
“Anjali.” Sirf naam. Uski awaaz bhaari thi. Maine uske kandhon ko pakad kar khud ko aur kola, taaki woh poora baith sake. Kapde ghutnon par atke rahe, poori tarah nange nahi hue, aur isi adhoorepan mein zyada garam laga. Kurta meri bahon par latak raha tha jaise cloak.
Uski ungliyan meri chut ke upar wale hisse par ghisne lagi jab woh andar tha. Yeh cheez page par do lines hoti, asal mein ek kampan thi jo pet tak jaati. Maine uska kaan kaata, phir kaha, “Ab slow.” Slow ho gaya. Har nikalna lambe time ka ho gaya, har ghusna soch ka.
Pune ki gali se kisi scooter ki speed ki awaaz aayi, door se, phir khatam. Hum akele hi rahe. Maine uski kamar pakdi, uski kamar meri ungliyon ke neeche kasti. Dono ki saansein phooli hui thi. Uski aankhen meri aankhon se nahi hat rahi thin, panel se bilkul nahi mil raha tha yeh look, kyunki panel mein log bhaagte hain, yahan koi nahi bhaga.
“Main girun gi,” maine table ke kinare se kaha. Usne mujhe aur table par kheench liya, meri kamar uske haath mein, taaki wood se na fisloon. Phir tez. Itna tez ki brush wala dabba do inch khisak gaya. Maine uske baal kheenche, aur meri chut ne uske lund ko dabaya, chhoda, dabaya.
Woh rukne wala nahi tha, lekin meri awaaz sun kar usne ek pal ke liye kamar sasta di, andar hi, hilaya nahi. Maine naak se saans li, phir kaha, “Ab mat ruk.” Usne chuma, aur dhakke wapas aaye. Meri thighs uske kamr par kasi rahi, pair jeans ke jaal mein uljhe, nikaale nahi.
Pet ke neeche woh ganth khulne lagi jo page par sirf shade hoti hai. Maine uski peeth ke neeche naakhun diye, poori tarah nahi, bas pata chale. Harsh ki saans meri gardan par toot kar ek awaaz bani jo balloon ke text se lambi thi. Main uske saath gi, kamar table se uth kar uske haath mein atak gayi, phir giri.
Uska lund ab bhi andar tha jab meri chut kamp rahi thi. Usne do aur dhakke diye, teesre par khud ko rok kar meri thighs dabaaye rakha, aur khud nikal aaya andr se, kamar kas kar. Condom tha, garam, geela. Dono table ke kinare jhuke rahe, maatha maathe se. Ink ki smell wapas aa gayi jaise kamra apna kaam yaad kara raha ho.
Kapde poori tarah neeche nahi utre the, is liye wapas khinchna asaan tha. Maine bra theek ki, kurta neeche kiya. Harsh ne condom sambhala, knotted, kude mein daala, jeans upar khinchi, belt nahi pehni. T-shirt uske seene par geeli thi. Meri thighs par ab bhi uski ungliyon ke nishan jaise garmish thi, dikh nahi rahi thi.
Table par adhura page wahi pada tha. Balloon ab bhi khali. Maine brush uthaya, haath kamp raha tha lekin line ki aadat haath mein baithi thi. Character ke muh par ek chhoti si bite mark ki line de di, aisi jo pehle wale draft mein nahi thi. Yeh line meri thi.
Harsh ne dekha. “Yeh us character ki nahi hai.” Maine nib dabbe mein rakhi. “Ab hai. Bharat ke readers jhooth pakadte hain, yeh jhooth nahi.” Usne kuch nahi kaha, sirf page ke kone ko pakda jaise abhi bhi geela ho, padta nahi, uthata hai.
Pages lekar woh nikal gaya
Doosri sheet bhi usi ke haath mein aa gayi, pehle wali ke neeche. Club ko yahi chahiye tha, ek poori strip, last panel garam. Maine uske haath se page nahi chheena. Uski aankhen meri aankhon par ruki, phir darwaze par.
“Main leke jaata hoon,” Harsh bola, belt ab bhi khuli. Koi kal ka plan nahi bandha, koi next panel nahi. Maine sirf itna kaha, “Line sookh gayi hai. Mat jhukana.”
Darwaza khol kar woh nikal gaya, pages seene se chipkaaye. Seedhi ki taraf uske kadam tez the. Main table par khadi rahi, kurta geeli peeth par, brush meri ungliyon mein wapas, aur khali kamre mein sirf fan ki wahi purani ghoom.
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