Thursday, August 13, 2015

The Reunion – Urban Adult Fiction – A Passionate Love Story

Urban Adult Fiction
A Passionate Love Story

From My Creative Writing Archives:

An Urban Adult Story (for a change)

Dear Reader: I wrote the story below titled REUNION as my entry for the Urban Stories Competition 2011. It is a story for Urban Adults. The stories were required to be set in an Urban backdrop in contemporary India.

Sadly  this story did not win a prize. 

I wonder why?

But that does not matter. 

This story still remains one of my favorites

So – if you are an Adult  here is the story  once more  for you to read...

THE REUNION – a story by Vikram Karve

The woman gradually came into consciousness from her drunken stupor. 

Her head throbbed with pain, her eyes ached, her throat felt dry, her tongue tasted bitter – it was a terrible hangover.

Streaks of diffused sunlight filtered in through the curtains of the solitary window. 

The woman opened her eyes  but everything looked blurred. 

Slowly things began to come into focus. 

She wondered where she was – the strange room, the unfamiliar bed, scary unknown surroundings – she felt a tremor of panic – a shiver of fear. 

She decided to get up, go to the window, open the curtains, look outside  and try to see where she was. 

But the moment she tried to get up  the blanket covering her body fell off  and the woman realized that she was naked, stark naked.

She felt a shiver up her spine  then suddenly – she was overcome by a nauseating stomach-churning fear that made her throw up – she vomited copiously all over the place, the bed, her body  and she retched again and again till there was nothing left inside her  and then she collapsed on the bed  and she passed out unconscious.

When the woman came back into consciousness again  she felt a cold wet towel on her forehead. 

She opened her eyes. 

A fresh new blanket covered her body. 

Someone had tried to clean her up  even wiped her body clean  but there were still traces of her vomit here and there – her skin felt sticky  and the place reeked with the disgusting stench of her puke.

“Feeling okay?” a male voice said from behind the bed.

She recognized the voice at once  and suddenly  she felt goose bumps all over her naked body inside the blanket.

“My clothes? What happened to my clothes?” the woman asked the man.

“I took them off,” the man said, nonchalantly.

“You took my clothes off? How dare you? You get out of here. What are you doing here?” asked the woman.

“This is my room  and that is my bed you are lying down on,” the man answered.

“Your room?”

“You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“What happened?”

“I flew in from Singapore and checked in last evening. Then I had a shower and I went down to pub for a drink  and I was shocked to see you there – you were horribly drunk  downing tequila shots – shot after shot  and making out with that lecherous firangi.”

“Making out? Lecherous firangi?

“I beat the shit out of him  and I threw him out.”

“You beat him up? Are you crazy? He is our most important client – he has come all the way from America to see our Pune centre.”

“Important client? So what? That doesn’t give him the right to get you drunk out of your senses  and then take advantage of you. The bugger was trying to take you up to his room and screw you.”

“Maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of. Maybe I wanted him to screw me.” 

“You filthy drunken whore. I saved you. You should be grateful to me. If your husband found out…”

“Suppose I say that my husband knows…”

“Bloody hell? Offshoring and Outsourcing – what a laugh!”

“What do you mean…?”

“An IT Czar offshoring his own wife for getting outsourcing business. Did you dump me for that unscrupulous pimp?”

“You mind your tongue  and you just get out of here. I don’t want to talk to you. Let me wash up and change. Where is my bag? Where are my things? I have to catch the 11 o’clock flight to Delhi. Our client is coming with me on the flight. I will have to apologize to him for all that happened.”

“He has gone. I made sure he left. And do you know what time it is? It is one o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Oh, My God. I have missed my flight. How could he go away just like that without me?”

“That horny firangi bastard was looking for you. The bugger had even found his way here. He wanted to take you along with him to the airport to catch your flight.”

“He saw me here?”

“No chance. I didn’t let him enter the room. I told him to vamoose, to disappear  and I warned him never to contact you again.”


“It’s not shit  it’s puke  your stinking vomit. I never knew you could be so disgusting. You puked all over your clothes. That is why I took them off and washed them. I have hung them in the bathroom – they must be dry by now. Don’t worry. I have checked you out of your room  and I had your things brought up here to my room – there’s your bag  near the closet. I opened your bag – I found your ticket – and I cancelled your 11 o’clock flight. I have now booked you on the evening flight to Delhi. Now go in and clean yourself up. I’ll go down and wait for you in the lobby. We’ll have a good lunch in the restaurant – you need to eat. And there is some chilled Bloody Mary in the flask – drink it – it will cure your hangover.”

“Thanks,” the woman said.

The man walked out of the room – and he closed the door. 

The woman got up from the bed  and she ran naked into the bathroom.

Later  they both sat in the restaurant  enjoying a leisurely lunch in silence. 

The woman was feeling better now.

The man broke the silence: “I never expected to meet you here. I thought you were living in America after dumping me and marrying that wily bastard.”

“Please don’t start again. You tell me about yourself. Are you married?”

“No – I did not marry. Once bitten  twice shy.”

“And your work?”

“Well, I did this and that  and then I took up a teaching assignment in Singapore. I have settled there now. I have come to Pune for a seminar  and to deliver some lectures. And you? I have totally lost track of you  after that IT Czar lured you from me and took you away to the US of A.”

“We still have our main operations over there  but we have expanded our business to India too – offshoring, outsourcing, ITES, all sorts of IT services – we have three centres here – at Gurgaon, Delhi and Pune – and – nowadays I spend most of my time in Gurgaon.”

“And your husband?”

“He lives in the US – he looks after the business out there.”

“Oh. Long distance marriage, eh? No wonder.”

“No wonder? What?”

“No wonder that you are so sex starved – getting drunk and seducing firangis at your husband’s behest. Your guy can’t get it up  is it? No wonder you were so tight.”

“Tight? What are you saying?”

“I did it.”

“You did it?”

“Yes. I did it. Last night. With you. But you were so dead drunk, I doubt you even felt anything.”

“You bastard! You screwed me? I suspected as much when I was bathing  but I never imagined you would stoop so low and take advantage of me.”

“But you said you wanted to be taken advantage of.”

“I want to go,” the woman said sobbing, breaking down into tears.

“Cool down. Don’t make a spectacle of yourself again. I am sorry  but you were looking so attractive, so sexy, so desirable  that I remembered our days together  and I could not control myself,” the man said. 

He rose from his seat – and he spoke to the woman, “Come, I’ll take you to the washroom. You compose yourself. Then we’ll sit in the lounge and have some coffee.”

Later they sat in the poolside lounge and sipped hot coffee. 

It was winter  the late afternoon sun and slight breeze were quite comforting.

“I am sorry – I am very very sorry,” the man said, “I shouldn’t have done it. I should have let you carry on with that firangi. Then all this would not have happened.”

“It’s okay. What’s done is done. At least it shows that you still care for me.”

The man was taken aback by the woman’s words  and he felt good.

“I always cared for you. I miss you terribly. We shouldn’t have divorced. We were too immature, too hot-headed  we could have patiently worked out our differences. Sometimes I think I am responsible for driving you into his arms,” the man said.

“No. It was my fault. I was too gullible  and he was too smooth. He cleverly drove a wedge into our relationship  and I fell for it,” the woman said.

“I wish I could turn the clock back,” the man said.

“Me too.”

“We really had some good times together.”

“Yes. I can never forget those carefree days.”

“Let’s do one thing.”


“It’s 4 now  your flight is at 8  airport check-in is at 7 – we have got 3 hours to kill – let’s go to Camp and loaf around Main Street, Marzorin, Monafood, Budhani’s, Kayani, Manneys, Needlewoman, the Bhelpuri stall – let’s see if all our old haunts are still there. If you want we’ll do some window shopping in the new Malls  whatever you want – and then I’ll drop you off at the airport.”

“No. Let’s go up to your room and do it,” the woman said.

“Do it?”

“Yes  let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“What you did to me last night.”


“Yes. Come. Let’s do it. This time  let’s do it like we used to do it.” 

“No social graces?”

“No social graces,” she smiled at their naughty private joke, “Yes  no social graces. Let’s go at each other like wild animals,” she tempted him with that tantalizing reckless look in her eyes.

He could feel the desire churning inside him like fire.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s do it.”

They did it.

They went up to the room. 

Then  uninhibited, unrestrained  they let their carnal desires run amok with wild abandon  and  they did it.

They made love with wild passionate frenzy  demanding more and more of each other  resonating with peaks of sensual pleasure  till they were engulfed by the glow of ecstasy  the ultimate climax  and then they lay exhausted  their fires satiated  their limbs entangled  their bodies overcome by that unique soothing calm which is a consequence of fulfilled lovemaking.

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
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© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

This Story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.
Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

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