My skin appeared copper. I washed my pubis carefully so no smell remained from urinating. Rubbing myself dry, I became aroused. I thought how abject all this was. I put on the red sari again. I wore no bra so my nipples showed through the blouse. As I dressed, a strange emotion began filling me. I was clenching and unclenching my hands. As I noticed I was doing this, I started shaking. The feeling was close to panic, but not exactly that. I wanted to run toward instead of away. It was not some form of love either. Even one afternoon of loving let me know that. The emotion was like anger.
After a few minutes, I went out. I stood beside Rajinder. My arm brushed against his kurta sleeve. Periodically a raindrop fell, but these were so intermittent I might have been imagining them. On the roofs all around us, on the street, were the dim figures of men, women, and children waiting for the first rain. "You look pretty," he said. Somewhere Lata Mangeshkar sang with a static-induced huski-ness. The street was silent. Even the children were hushed. As the wind picked up, Rajinder said, "Let's close the windows."
The wind coursed along the floor, upsetting newspapers, climbing the walls to swing on curtains. There was a candle on the refrigerator. As I leaned over to pull a window shut, Rajinder pressed against me. He cupped my right breast. I felt a shock of desire pass through me. As I walked around the rooms shutting windows, he followed behind, touching my buttocks, pubis, stomach.
When the last window was closed, I waited for a moment before turning around, because I knew he wanted me to turn around quickly. He pulled me close, with his hands on my buttocks. I took his tongue in my mouth. We kissed like this for a long time.
The rain began falling. There was a roar from the people on the roofs nearby. "The clothes," Rajinder said. He pulled away.
We ran out. It was hard to see each other. Lightning bursts illuminated an eye, an arm, some teeth. Then there was darkness again. We jerked the clothes off, letting the pins fall to the ground. We deliberately brushed roughly against each other. The raindrops were like thorns. We began laughing. Rajinder's shirt had wrapped itself around and around the clothesline. Wiping his face, he knocked his glasses off As I saw him crouched and fumbling around helplessly for them, I felt such tenderness that I knew I would never love him as much as I did at that moment. "The wind in the trees," I said, "it sounds like the sea."
We slowly moved back inside, kissing all the while. When he entered me, it was like a sigh. He suckled on me and moved back
and forth and side to side, and I felt myself growing warm and loose. He held my waist with both hands. We made love gently at first, but as we both neared climax, Rajinder began stabbing me with his penis. I came in waves so strong that I wanted to say, Make me invisible; make me the sky. When Rajinder sank on top of me, I said, "I love you."
"I love you, too," he answered.
The candle had gone out. Rajinder got up to light it. He drank some water, then lay down beside me. I wanted some water, too, but did not want to say anything to suggest thoughtlessness. "I'll be getting promoted soon. Minaji loves me," Rajinder said. I rolled onto my side to look at him. He had his arms folded across his chest. "Yesterday he said, 'Come, Rajinderji, let us write your confidential report.' " I put my hand on his stomach. Rajinder said, "Don't." He pushed my hand away. "I said, 'Oh, I don't know whether that's good, sir.' He laughed. What a nincompoop. If it weren't for the quotas he'd never be manager." Rajinder chuckled. "I'll be the youngest bank manager in Delhi." I tugged a sheet over our legs. "In college I had a schedule for where I wanted to be by the time I was thirty. By twenty-two I became an officer, soon I'll be a manager. I wanted a car. We'll have that in a year. I wanted a wife. I have that."
"You are so smart."
"There were smarter people
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley