The Fourth Wheel is about Avesh and Sumera, two adult teens, who find themselves in a situation where their curiosity gets better of them. It will be a three-part story.
1
It was a rainy July evening. We meet Avesh, in a rickshaw which he had caught right outside his college. He was dreading the prospect of the train ride and the taxi ride back home to Parel after that, especially in the pouring rain. But before he left for that train ride from Bandra to Parel, he had one stop, a stop, which he was looking forward to all day.
Avesh wished he went to a college somewhere nearby, where it wouldn’t be a taxi-train-auto commute. Before the session had started, he had asked his father if he should think of changing the college. But his father had said, “Most of your friends are starting to live in hostels, in a different city. And you are worried about a little commute in Bombay?”
No commute in Bombay is “a little”. Avesh’s father didn’t need to commute anymore. His firm sent him a car, and dropped him to his office. Their flat in Parel was right next to the ITC Maratha, a place, where Avesh was sure, his father has spent many nights, for “conferences”. Avesh had grunted, and accepted that he has to keep going to a college to Andheri. He wished his mother were alive. She would have understood him.
Avesh was 19 years-old. He was already a year behind most of his friends. He had dropped a year after high school, because he wanted to prepare for the JEE and bunch of other exams with pithy acronyms. But instead, he had spent that year, mostly gaming and sneaking out to watch movies with his friends.
There were ambitious 18 year olds, and then there was Avesh. He just wanted to get through the exams, and finally not have to study so hard just to solve a bunch of questions in record time. But his father wanted more. When he graduated with merely 70% from his high-school, his father had remarked that he should put all his focus on the competitive exams. Avesh did what he almost always did – agreed to his father, came to his room, and did whatever he felt like doing.
I don’t want you think that Avesh was disinterested in girls. That would be unnatural. He was interested in girls as much as the next 19 year old. There were pretty girls in the coaching class he went to. They would talk with him, and he would talk back. But Avesh’s mind was back home, waiting to reach on time, so that he could fire up his computer, and play a few rounds of Overwatch with his friends from Discord. It was a cosy circle of friends. He didn’t know their actual names, just their in-game names and discord tags. But, whenever they played together, he laughed. In that circle, he was already in college, and was buried in coursework. He was studying in IIT Bombay, as far his Discord friends were concerned.
When he was playing, he was playing. He would often finish a couple of hours of gaming session, and find texts from a girl from coaching class. He would reply, but by then she would have forgotten why she had texted.
The summer after his high-school came. Avesh was a year older, but his performance in the entrance exams was no better. On the day the results were declared, his father was away from Bombay. Avesh had spent the entire day playing games. When the others weren’t around, or when he was supposed to be having his “IIT Bombay classes”, he would play solo games, be a cowboy in a desert or a samurai in a forest.
Later that evening, he checked his phone, and saw the ranks of his coaching mates. The girl who had once texted him, was sure that she would get into one of the old IITs. Another guy posted his rank and said that if he didn’t get CSE, he will use his SAT scores to study in Germany. Avesh scrolled through the group chat. He should have felt sad, but all he felt was indifference. He tapped a few options and exited that group.
His father called and asked him about the results. After hearing his answer, his father had sighed loudly on the phone, and said, “I will be back at 10 AM tomorrow. We will discuss your future.”
He had stayed awake till 2 AM that night, trying to play Fortnite for the first time. He detested it, but at least it gave him something new to do till he felt sleepy, without thinking too much about what his father would propose.
Avesh woke up a little after 9 AM the next morning. He checked his Discord and confirmed that he should be around for an afternoon session, because he had no “classes”. There were some texts on WhatsApp, from unknown numbers. He glanced at the messages, but he figured the summary was a bunch of strangers asking him why he left the group, and some veiled questions about his rank.
He was eating his breakfast, a bowl of oats and milk, which Jaya had prepared. Jaya had been the cook and the maid of the house for so long, that she was almost part of the house. She was around since Avesh was a toddler. And after his mother died, 10 years ago, Jaya was the only maternal figure he had in his life.
“You look sad today, baba,” she said, while tidying up the kitchen.
“No, nothing. My results weren’t good. Dad would be here soon, and there will be a discussion...” he said, circling his spoon around the oats. Jaya didn’t say anything.
After his breakfast, he went to his room, and decided to read a book. He had plenty of unread novels on his shelf. He was on the 52nd page, when there was a knock on the door. It was his father.
“Hi,” his father said, in a solemn tone.
Avesh noted that his father had already changed and freshened up. He had lost track of time and his surroundings when he was reading, “Hi, I didn’t hear you come in.”
He walked into his room, and pulled Avesh’s gaming chair, and sat on it.
“I am happy that you are reading, instead of having a headset over your head and playing one of those games,” his father said.
Avesh closed his book, and sat up straight. He was prepared to hear another long lecture on how he was wasting his life.
“What are you going to do?” his father simply asked.
Avesh wasn’t prepared for such an open-ended question. He was thinking that his father would give him the solution, and he simply will have to accept it.
“I...” Avesh started thinking on the fly, “... will prepare for another year. This time, I will study much harder. I know -”
“No, you cannot afford to have one more year of gap in your CV,” he declared.
His CV? Avesh had never made a CV. He knew how it looked and all, but he had never thought how his CV would look like. Not great, he knew that much though.
His father sighed, and said, “Look, I have to tell you something else too.”
He twiddled his thumbs, and was quiet for a moment. “I met someone.”
Avesh was expecting something more. But when his father was quiet, he asked, “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, I have been seeing someone for some time now. And, look, nothing is going to change. She will not be your mother. It’s just-”
“What?” Avesh didn’t know what else to say.
Avesh’s father, Gaurav, was 35 when he lost his wife. The death felt sudden, even though Priya had suffered through for a year. It was a violent cancer, and it chewed through Priya’s body, as if it meant nothing. All the money in the world, all the best doctors in the city, couldn’t do anything, except to numb her pain.
After a year of Priya’s death, Gaurav’s parents had insisted that he should get married again. He was appalled by the suggestion. He loved his wife more than anything in the entire world. They were supposed to grow old together.
“But your son! He’s just 8! He needs a mother,” Gaurav’s mother had said.
“You do not know what you are talking about, mom,” Gaurav had fumed, and added, “I am not doing this, and we will never talk about this again.”
Years went by. Gaurav, with nothing else in his life to look forward to, poured himself in work. He would stay at work late. Jaya kept the house together. She had always been loyal. He kept increasing her salary, helping her kids through school. Priya had hired her. He couldn’t afford to lose Jaya from the household. Promotion, after promotion, Gaurav blazed through the corporate ladder. He sent Avesh to the best international school, gave him the best toys, and when he was older, gave him the best phones and computers.
Avesh had a tutor for everything, and when he was in high school, Gaurav made sure that his son studied in the most expensive coaching center in Bombay. What he couldn’t do though, was sit down with his son, and talk. Avesh looked so much like his mother – the way he smiled, the way his hairline outlined the forehead, the way his chin was, even his nose.
Gaurav’s parents never spoke of him re-marrying. But his colleagues did. Well, they were more crass about it, “Just start dating. I am sure you would find plenty of young girls, who would want to see the insides of your BMW.”
Gaurav did try dating. He was close to 40 by then, five years after Priya had died. But it still felt like cheating. He was lonely, yes, but he couldn’t muster the energy to smile and make a conversation with a woman, to tell her that she looked pretty. Nobody was as pretty as Priya. Nobody had a sweeter voice than Priya. Nobody was sexier than her.
He would fuck women, but it was more like a cleansing. He was too old to jerk himself off. So, he would take a younger woman to an expensive restaurant, sometime almost a decade younger than him, and then insist on checking in to a hotel. They would fuck a few times, with Gaurav always insisting that he fucked them from behind, and the next morning, he would leave, saying that he was late for a flight.
It was different with Heena though. Gaurav had met Heena at a meeting in Delhi. It started as a conversation about work, but soon became a discovery of their parallel lives. They were both from Bombay. Both had lost their spouses almost a decade ago, and both had children who weren’t doing as well in life as they had expected. Heena was a couple of years younger than Gaurav, and her daughter Sumera had just turned 18.
“My son, is almost 19, but yeah, he is a bit lost in life. He has dropped a year, I don’t know what he will do,” Gaurav had said, sipping his whiskey.
“Why did he drop a year? I don’t have high hopes of Sumera getting through this year. But, if she decides to prepare for a year, I will enrol her into a Bachelor’s program. If nothing pans out, at least she would have completed a year of a degree,” Heena said, “you should do the same with Avesh, if God forbid, he has to prepare for another year.”
Gaurav had smiled. He rarely talked about his son, let alone with a woman. And it seemed like a sane advice. Maybe he was a little drunk, but he imagined, if Priya were alive, she would have suggested the same thing. He didn’t have to stay in Delhi for a day, but Heena was leaving a day later, so he asked her, “When do you fly back?”
Dating Heena was hard for Gaurav. The last date, when he was actually trying to know about the woman, was more than a decade ago. But Heena, made everything simple. She was smooth, she would laugh at the right time, and she didn’t giggle like the girls Gaurav took on “dates” to fuck them. They dated for three months, before they checked into a hotel for the first time.
Gaurav wasn’t out of practice when it came to fucking. But he didn’t want to fuck Heena. He liked her, and he wanted the sex to express that. He was rusty in that area. He didn’t know how to express fondness while inside a woman. The first time, they were naked, Gaurav couldn’t get it hard, to enter Heena. They had lied in the hotel bed together naked, talking about their lives, about their deceased spouses, and all the other things in the world. It was 5 AM, when they had finally fallen asleep.
The next morning, it was Heena who was awake first. She had woke him up, smiling at him. The curtains were drawn, the sunlight, coming from behind her, her face looked beautiful. After long time, Gaurav had felt that he had actually slept. His chest felt lighter. His cheeks didn’t hurt when he smiled.
Since that morning, Gaurav and Heena had been going out. That morning was three months ago. Heena had suggested that they told their children about each other. When Gaurav heard about the results, he wanted to tell his son that he should prepare for a year, but not stay un-enrolled. And he also wanted to tell him about the most important thing going on his life, other than him.
Avesh felt as if he had hit a wall. His ears were ringing. His nose was burning. His father kept talking, telling him about Heena, about how they met, and about how much she wanted to meet Avesh. And lastly, he added that she had suggested that he joined a Bachelor’s program and continued preparing for his exams.
Avesh listened to all that, with a scowl on his forehead. It was not a revolutionary idea. He had seen many of his friends doing it, and it seemed like a logical idea too. In fact, he will have actual classes, instead of the imaginary classes he told his Discord friends about. But, who was this Heena to tell him how he should spend his next year? It was disgusting.
“Dad, please, not today. We will talk about this later,” Avesh said, lying back on his bed, and facing away from his father.
Gaurav sighed. He puffed his cheeks, and said, “I have invited Heena and her daughter for dinner tonight.”
Avesh didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes!” Avesh said, his voice had a tinge of irritation.
“Okay,” Gaurav said getting up, “and don’t waste the day. Make a shortlist of five colleges where you can study in Bombay, with your grades... you know. We can talk about it over dinner,” he said.
Avesh turned to him, suddenly feeling acting like a sullen child, “Don’t you think, all of this is ridiculous? Who does this? I am 19! And you are dating! And you want me to discuss my college choices in front of her?”
“Avesh, keep your voice down. Yes, you are 19, you are not a child, which is why you should understand this better. By this time, you should have been out of this house, studying, making something of your life. Instead, here you are, making list of colleges, which will take someone like you,” Gaurav said, his voice low, but hard with anger.
“What do you mean by someone like me?” Avesh retorted, raising his voice.
“You know what I mean!” Gaurav turned to leave.
“And, fine, don’t discuss the list, whatever. But make it, and apply. Use that 3 lac-rupee computer for something other than your games!” Gaurav went out, deliberately leaving the door ajar.
“Mom, I am not going to this dinner,” Sumera said.
“And, why is that?”
“It’s so weird! None of my friends -”
“Sumera, what have I told you about comparing your life with your friends?”
Sumera was lying on the couch, her legs on the armrest, and her arms crossed. It was only a week ago that she had celebrated her 18th birthday, and here she was hearing about her mom’s boyfriend. These things didn’t happen in her circle, or at least, none of her friends talked about it.
“Only the other day, you were warning me about boys, about what they want and whatever. And now you are telling you’re dating?!”
“Gaurav is not a boy. And think of this as a dinner with friends. We have been to such dinners, right?”
Sumera sighed. It was 4 PM, and she was supposed to be out with her friends from 5. But now, that there’s this dinner plan, she would have to skip it, and wait around all this time. She got from her couch, adjusted her shorts, and started walking to her room.
“When are we leaving?”
“A little after 7,” Heena said, while typing on her computer.
“Okay.”
“And please, don’t wear those torn jeans and Metal tee shirts. You are a woman now, please start dressing like one.”
“Okay mom! I will wear a sexy black dress. I am sure your friend, will like that,”
“Sumera!” Heena yelled at her.
“What? I thought you told me to think of him as just your friend!” Sumera went inside her room, before her mother could reply.
In her room, she fell on the bed head-first. Then, within seconds, she took her phone to text her friends, but spent some time, scrolling through Instagram, checking the views on her latest Status. That went on for 15 minutes, and then she texted her clique of friends that she would have to cancel.
After the text, she lay on her back, and fired up the selfie camera. She pushed her breasts together with her arms, making sure her bust was conspicuous, adjusted her hair to form a nice frame around her face, made a sad face and clicked a few pictures. Unhappy with the batch, she pulled down her tee shirt a little, exposing more of her cleavage, and making it more obvious that she was not wearing a bra. She liked the pictures, and posted the best one with the sticker, “What a day!” She kept her phone away and looked at the door. She grunted, cursing herself for not locking it. She got up from her bed, and locked the door.
She took off her tee shirt, and fell on the bed again, naked from waist up that time. Her breasts jiggled, and she stared at the ceiling, sighing deeply. She touched her breasts, feeling them up. Sumera’s breasts were too large for her otherwise petite frame. She didn’t like wearing bras, because with bras, her breasts looked even perkier, even larger. Besides, she liked feeling the fabric of her tee shirts graze against her nipples, when she casually moved around the house.
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She wasn’t looking forward to the evening of being proper. Wear a bra, wear a panty, check all the time if she was not showing too much cleavage, or if she was not standing in a way that her ass is pushed out too much. Yes, it was weird enough that her mom has a boyfriend. It wasn’t the first time she was being introduced to one, but every time she had done that, Sumera had felt awkward, like a third wheel. According to her mom, this guy had a son. So, she will be the fourth wheel.
Continue Reading
The Fourth Wheel - 2
The second part of The Fourth Wheel is here! This part picks up right after the first one, so, if you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend reading it before starting this part! Previously 2 Sumera and Heena were in the back of a cab. “Why couldn’t you drive us there?” Sumera asked her mom.
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That was a long time since I didn’t take the time, and I loved it, this time reading you!