Sin City
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2009 by Audrey Haber

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A tale about Page 3 lifestyles and relationships set in Bombay, India, in the late Nineties.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Rape   Blackmail   Cheating   Cuckold   Rough   Torture   Interracial   White Male   Slow  

He was mad as hell and wouldn't take this any more. Enough was enough. This was the limit. No more tears-or fears. He jabbed the off switch of his Toshiba, forgetting to shut down Windows 98 first but not giving a damn. He grabbed a handful of floppies and CDs, shoved them into the black synthetic bag -- the one he'd got as a free gift on his five-year subscription to India Today Plus -- alongwith the notebook, and hightailed it.

Darlene was approaching his cabin as he emerged, a fax in her hands. A glimpse of the logo at the top right hand corner told him it was from Mahindra & Mahindra, probably Anand's reply to his earlier fax.

"Where are you going?" she asked, staring incomprehendingly at the computer bag, at the jacket slung over his shoulder, and of course, the look of barely controlled rage that must be visible on his face.

"Away," he said simply. He didn't want to blow up at Darlene -- she was probably the only one here who gave a damn about what was going on in his life right now. "Just ... away."

She held out the fax. "Mr Mahindra's waiting for a reply. What do I tell him?"

"Tell him whatever. I took sick. Whatever. Hold everything. I'll call you."

His speech sounded disjointed, incoherent, illogical to his ears. It probably was. What he was planning to do right now had very little to do with logic or coherence. It was pure male hormonal rage. Slaves of testosterone: the phrase flashed in his mind, the title of some article in GQ or chapter heading in a health and fitness book.

Yeah, he thought, that's all we men are: Hormonally handicapped. Imagine a creature with chemical imbalances comparable to a woman during delivery, driven to irrational bursts of anger, elation, despair, aggression; now, imagine that creature enslaved to these hormonal changes throughout the course of its existence: And you have a perfect description of male homo sapiens.

"Another fight?" She had put the fax away and was looking at him with sympathy. But he didn't want sympathy right now ... he didn't know what he wanted. To get the hell away, he thought again in a flare of fury, just away.

"Yeah, sort of." He couldn't string together more than three words at a stretch, he was that angry. "Last one. Hopefully."

She blinked, getting his meaning, seeing his anger and frustrated rage, and feeling some of it too. She put a hand on his forearm, touched it gently -- her palm felt cool and comforting to his heated arteries. Then she went back to her cubicle.

He stood there for a second, realizing that he was about to pass some sort of juncture, a point of no return, a turnpike on the highway of his life. He looked around at the office, the fifty-odd people who were too involved with their individual jobs to have noticed what Darlene had seen so clearly, that their boss and employer was about to go AWOL. These people depend on me for their livelihood, he thought, and felt a pang of guilt.

Then he remembered that last conversation with Sarla. That last lip-biting conversation. And his blood raged again. He walked straight out of the office and down the 18 floors to the street, not even realizing he had forgotten to take the lift until he was on the mezannine of Express Towers. There was a nippy wind today, the evening sky was overcast with stormy clouds, and the Marine Drive bay looked choppy and squallish. Just the way I feel, he thought.

The driver had brought the car around. How had he known? Of course. Darlene had had him paged. What would he ever do without Darlene, she wasn't just an Executive Assistant, she was a wizard. And what will she do without me? he wondered briefly, then shoved the thought back roughly into the backroom of his brain.

"You can go home," he told Maganlal, the driver. "Aaj zaroorat nahi padegi." The man looked a little bemused and hung around a moment, as if he wanted to ask Arif something but wasn't sure if the time was right. Arif didn't wait for him to decide either way.

 
There is more of this chapter...

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.