Aman pushes the door aside with his hand on the knob and this girl pressed against him. They’re passionately kissing each other, his hand sometimes moves to her hair and sometimes to her waist. It’s love making like now or never. On the edge, volatile, this is sexual intimacy at it’s violent best with clothes on. They close the door behind while still kissing each other.
Aman manages to turn the lights on with one of his hands that search for the switchboard. It’s only for a second that he takes his hand off her but it feels to him like forever. His hand is back on her like a flash.
And suddenly they take their hands off each other.
The look in her eyes says it all. She wants all of him. Not an inch of his body will be spared tonight.
The sweat over his eyebrow says it all. He’s invested too much in this tonight to let it pass. It’s been hard work getting her here.He reaches out for her hair in one final lunge of a kiss and then he realizes he wants more.
“Can I do you tonight?” he asks fearlessly.
“What on earth makes you think I need to answer that?”, she says.
“I’m sorry I asked.” he screams out loud passionately and tears open her top.
She screams out loud too. This is it. This is the peak of his mundane 32 years of existence.
She isn't done screaming.“Why the fuck did you have to tear it off? It was my favorite top. I got it from Chanel.”
He’s… He’s…, He’s …well… stunned, to put it politely.
He mumbles and reaches out for her caringly. She will have none of it. All her passion has just dissolved in the Chanel top that lies on the bed, almost geometrically torn into two shreds now, held by this teeny-weeny button that’s somehow holding the whole thing together.
“Do you have any fucking clue what you’ve just done? I spent months trying to get this exact piece.”
"Hey…don’t worry baby. I know Channel. I’ll get you more… I’ll get you the exact piece. Don’t spoil this moment now…”
“It’s not Channel you nincompoop, it’s Chanel. Get out…”