I Shouldn't Have Done This

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I don't really think he needs sex.

What he needs is a vacation in Kashmir to chill the fuck out.
I mean, I'm wearing a mini skirt and bralette top and as mentioned, there is too much skin exposed that is why he thought I'm a callgirl in the first place and I am thinking all of this because this guy like things really cool.

The weather outside is nice, it's pleasent, there's cold breeze and he has turned his AC lever to the fullest. I'm freezing and he's enjoying this shit with loud EDM music blasting from his super sonic speakers. It's so loud I can't hear my own thoughts.

He's kind of a rebel, I think. He jumped 3 red lights, both of us do not have seatbelts on, he's drinking beer for instant and I'm not in a place to talk like I normally do. Escorts don't usually do that, I guess.

The music suddenly went off in the middle of the song and he grabbed his phone, ugh-ing.

I tried to glance a look at his phone screen but didn't get any. His phone switched off, I guess. Lowkey I do not like Eminem so it's definitely super awesome for me.

"So, how'd you get into all of this?", he initiated, breaking the ice, looking at the mostly empty road in front of us. His hands firm on the steering wheel.

He's a very rash driver.

"We don't answer all of that", I said, thinking what I'm being mistaken for today.

I mean, I can't just go on saying shit. It kind of makes it harder to believe. Then an absolute silence took place.

"You don't really look like you'll need a prostitute though", I asked out of nowhere and he looked at me half-smiling. Weird.

"An answer for an answer", he grinned, picking his beer can up and taking a long sip.

I thought briefly, being a writer I can make stories up in seconds.

"I came to Bombay to become an actress and well it doesn't happens overnight. I'd to survive and other than acting, I've this", I vaguely gestured at my body and without making judgements he plainly nodded. He didn't make eye contact either.

"Yes, I am not the prostitute types but I wanted to have sex without being responsible at what I'll have to say or do the next morning", he told me.

Oh, okay. Just like the richer version - 'I do not want to be held responsible, so I'll just pay for it'.

"Since when are you doing this?", he shot another question.

"Uh, 2 years now", I replied, briskly.

"Have you done this earlier? It feels like your first time", I assumed.

"It is. I've seen friends picking up...", he uncomfortably stopped and I resumed, "...girls like me?" and he just nodded.

"You must get all kinds of people", he said, turning around the car rapidly.

"Not really!", I denied.

"I told you I've a limited clientele. It's just like how you've agencies for acting. I'm mostly hooked up with VVIP people. They like there women hot, young and active. Mostly, all of them are cool and not that bad. Everyone has different demands", I made up as I went which sounded pretty believable.

"Demands?", he looked at me, yearning for an answer.

"Like, BSDM stuff", I blindly went on with my lie but he looked convinced.

"Like in the movies. Is it real?", his face smeared with surprise.

"Yeah, it is. It's more cool than it's in the movies", I told him, reminiscing this one time I did a slave role play. It was so cool and intense.

"We're here", Darshan announced. "I need you to switch off your phone", he substantially demanded.

Yeah, because of the pictures I can click from my phone. Obviously. Or something of that sort.

I took my phone out and powered it off, showing it to him and he smiled at me before leading me to his apartment.

He's annoying. It's a posh area that he lives in and he has an Audi and the latest iPhone, he's obviously really well stocked.

"What's your name?", he asked, as we waited for the lift.

"Riya", I gave him what came to my mind first.

It smelled so fake.

"Darshan", he said, out of instinct but thank god he did say that because I didn't know his name.

I knew he's sung some big songs but his name slipped my head...I'm not a directory.

I'm nervous now.

I shouldn't have done this.

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