Las Vegas.
Now I know why it is named the city of sins. While on a business trip, I drunk-married my boss. Drowning in tequila and the lust for the hots for my boss seemed like the best idea on my week off. There was no undoing except that my boss...
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Sometimes I wish I was an octopus, so I could make use of all my eight tentacles. For times like now to rip off the penis of my date. Severe it thoroughly. Permanently dispatched. Unless it could manage to grow back like a lizard's tail.
The pasta on my plate stared at me in anticipation to be devoured. Which I would have. But as soon as the word Latex entered into the conversation my appetite played a catch-22. Saucer eyed I had stared into my lap when he suddenly jumped topics to Latex.
Apparently, he wasn't talking about it but the LaTeX(the TeX is supposed to be Tech it seems) and it is used for some technical mathematical writing. My liberal arts heart wouldn't know to break a twig about it.
"Any plans after dinner, Sani?" Jeet asked me. His tone clearly implied he doesn't want me to answer in negate. Instant alarms blared in my head and I was compelled to give a sharp no.
Firstly, Sani? Was my name so difficult to pronounce?
Saniya. Sa-nee-ya. Easy peasy.
Never in my entire twenty-four years did my grandparents ever call me anything absurd like this. Although other nicknames bode sweet for me. Nana used to call me Sona all the time. Nani would say Pari defines me better.
Secondly, his nuances to sexual references in his every next sentence was revulsive. While we were going through the grand menu to choose something fancy.
Because Reverie's was one of the most expensively fanciest hotels. Not only the chain and branches in PAN India but the world too. Especially after it's branding as a franchise all over the world. So, yes, we were doing the glam food tonight. And a budding artist like me couldn't afford such luxuries very frequently.
When we reached item number 69 he gave me that dirty glance. His eyes danced in a wild gleam-the bad type-because he further proceeded to stare at my fully covered tits while wetting his lips.
When I was slipping myself into this midnight blue maxi with an attached corset(something Leena was experimenting in her designing class) I was definitely going for the sexy look which was supposed to look attractive. With my hair done like the waves of beach flowing down my sleeveless hands and reaching to the crest of my chest.
That damn eye liner which took me a fine twenty minutes of trying to finally fail in matching both the wings. Add on with the endless struggle of choosing accessories from bracelets, pendants, bows, and earrings. No girl would want all this to be touched and destroyed. Date or not. I wanted to totally savor this dress-up.
Everything I wore implied ATTRACT in plain bold letters.
Somehow my date is reading it FUCK ME with a double underline.
Red Flag. I wanted to leave right away. But then a thought crossed me. What if I am being a pompous conservative prude?
He might say he is simply admiring beauty. But this is supposed to be the first date. Getting to know each other and clicking the vibes, or whatsoever.
