Untying The Knots - 1
A story about untying the knots that they didn't know existed
In the second story of Dominoes of Desire, we follow the lives of Manan and Ishita. They meet upon chance, and incidentally are in that phase of life where one doesn’t know exactly what they want. Their relationship is sexual and embarrassingly honest. They have knots in their hearts and bodies which they don’t even know exist. It’s going to a slow-burn story about love, sex and coming in terms of what you are capable of.
Untying the Knots is available as an eBook. Four chapters of the book are available on this Substack, and you can continue reading most of the story here on the Substack. If you make it to the Fifth and final chapter, consider buying the book. It is how I can continue working on this Substack. If you are just starting to read the story, I’d suggest to buy the book, and read it from there for best experience, in terms of proof reading and continuity.
1
Monsoons in Bombay have an honestly earned reputation. When July rolls in, there’s the anticipation of days of rain, of nights with muffled thunders and of dusky afternoons. Those are the good parts. The bad ones are of course, the water-logging, late trains and snail-paced traffic. This was Manan’s fourth monsoon in the city, and by then he was used to the incessant rains in the July evenings, the rain sprinkled windshield of his car and a much longer than usual commute from work.
Manan grew up in a small town in Uttar Pradesh. It’s an overstatement to call it a town, but that’s what he told his peers. His parents were and still are farmers, with lots of lands, but nothing other to do except farm it. As a kid, he would dream of making it big, of seeing the rest of the country, of traveling the world. The deciding factor for all that seemed to be money.
It was a friend in school, who’d told him about an uncle from Bombay. The friend talked about tall buildings, skimpily clad women and lots of money. When Manan asked him how the uncle got all that, he’d said, “He did his engineering and then MBA”. Manan didn’t understand fully what they meant, but he knew the keywords. He was 12 at that time, but he was determined to become what that friend’s uncle was.
He was sharper than most of his schoolmates, and eventually got a scholarship for a coaching center. He studied hard, and got into a decent college. Money was always in limited supply but enough for him to not worry about his next fee payment. In college, a combination of unpolished urban social skills and a driven motivation to do the best in class forced Manan into a self-imposed exile. He didn’t have ‘friends’ just classmates. He wasn’t part of any social clubs at his college, where he could meet the girls. The only interactions he had with opposite sex were when they’d ask him about assignments or to help him out with a problem they were stuck.
That isolation followed him as he landed a job in Bombay, and came to live there. The early months were difficult. It took him time to adjust to the scale of the city, to manage expenses. He found a roommate to stay with, but he was more of an inconvenience than anything else. After a year of enduring shared living, Manan finally managed to get an apartment of his own. He was rising fast at his work, earning more money than he knew what to do with.
The first few things he did were buying a car, bigger than what his batch-mates from college did and the second was to rent an apartment in Andheri, with a rent more than most people’s salary. To him it seemed like a wise decision, to ‘invest’ in improving the quality of life, but his colleagues would often scoff at him for paying huge rent while living alone.
His commute from his office at Worli was long in rush hour, but he never carpooled with anyone. In the early days, it was exciting, to learn to drive and navigate through heavy traffic. It’d get lonely at times, when he’d look at the passing car, with a guy of his age, sharing a laugh with a girl. He had thought of killing the commute loneliness by carpooling with someone, but hardly anyone in his circle lived around his area.
Over time Manan developed a hobby. A hobby which was perverted, but it helped him kill time. Most of his commute route was main roads, with only cars around. However, once in a while, he would see a bike, with a girl as the pillion rider. Manan would appraise her, study the way her kurta or top hugged her body. He would try to gauge how her bare ass would look like. The best part would be if he gets to see someone at a red light. He would touch himself while looking at the any girl in front of her.
He wasn’t very selective about the age or body type of the women he ogled. He could hardly see their faces, it was only their bodies that he wanted to see. He would love women in kurta and salvar. He would try to judge how thick their thighs were, and would imagine the salvar slipping off. It wouldn’t get an instant hard-on most often, but there have been times when he had to adjust his dick, because the girl in front of him, had a top which rode up.
That was all for the main road. When he took the exit to the insides of his locality, that’s where the fun part began. With plenty of pedestrians on the footpath, he would have plenty of women to see. For a city at the scale of Bombay, it was hardly the case that he’d see one woman twice. Manan sometimes slowed his car down to study an ass, enduring angry honks from vehicles behind him. His weakness was a woman wearing a kurta, that fits her snugly. He loved noticing the little flesh rolls on the side, and how some women have a natural sway to their asses when they moved.
Once home, he would change out of his clothes and freshen up. He would usually get home by 8 PM, and by the time he made himself comfortable, it’d be 0830-ish. Manan didn’t order from outside neither had a cook. He was particular about what he put in his mouth, and besides, he found cooking a meal relaxing. His dinner preps would be simple, more often than not boiled spaghetti sprinkled with salt and a scrambled eggs.
He made it a point to assert the freedom of living alone. So, he walked around the house, in his underwear, while he prepared his meal. Once finished, he would sit on the couch in front of his TV, which was more of an extended monitor for his old laptop. He didn’t just play something on Netflix or whiled his time away watching YouTube videos.
While other shelled out money in OTT subscriptions, Manan subscribed to premium Porn. He would browse his Pornhub premium for new content. He loved brunettes with big asses. He liked seeing them fucked by black men. He loved watching Latinas, because they were closest in color to the Indian skin that he craved for. Once he was finished eating, he would rinse his hands, and would get out of his underwear.
He’d lube his dick, and would jerk himself off. He needed the lube, because it wouldn’t be the only time he’d jerk off in the day. He would get himself close, but would change the video and let his dick soften. He’d repeat the process, till it was too much for him to control. In the final minute of jerking off, he would picture the women he saw on his way back. He’d picture the best face he’d seen, with best body he had seen that day. He’d imagine their legs wrapped around his body, and calling his name as he fucked them.
When he came, he’d always collect his cum in the palm of his hand, taking care than very little drops on the floor or the couch. There was always a tissue box on the table he ate. He’d wipe his cum and lube off his palms, pinch out the last drops of cum from his dick, and get up from the couch. It’d be past 1030 PM by the time he finished eating, cumming and cleaning after him.
He’d check his phone for matches on the all the four dating apps that he used. Most days there were a few matches, but the conversation with them were boring, going nowhere in particular. He’d get comfortable in his bed, and would try to chat with them anyway. While browsing, he’d sometimes find a girl who makes him hard. He’d right swipe her, but in the mean time, would touch himself looking at her pictures. He’d ogle at her covered body, and imagine taking her out of clothes. More often than not, he’d cum with the last few moments thinking about porn he was watching earlier.
It has always been hard for Manan to fall asleep. He liked the monsoons, because it was not as quiet as the summers and winters were. It won’t be until 2 AM that he’d finally fall asleep, with empty balls and an empty bed, more to exhaustion than to a blissful sleep.
The day when he saw Ishita for the first time, wasn’t unusual. It was raining that day, heavier than the rest of the week, and it took Manan 15 minutes more than usual commute time. He was almost home, when he saw a girl on the footpath. She was a short girl, and wore a pair of jeans which were one size too tight for her. It was raining, and she had an umbrella out. She wore a yellow tee, which made her stand out in the crowd.
Manan slowed his car down, to get a better look at her ass. Whenever she took a stride, there was a slight jiggle and he noticed the way the jeans were wrinkled where the curve of her ass ended. He took a hand off the steering wheel to give his dick a rub through the pants. He was rubbing himself looking at the girl’s ass when he heard a thud.
He slammed the brakes. He was moving slowly, so his car stopped almost instantly. However, in front of her, he saw the scooty which he had tail-ended.
Manan rolled down the window and took his head out and yelled, “I’m so sorry!’
The rider of scooty turned towards him. It was then that he noticed the rider. Amidst the lust for the girl with a big ass on the footpath, Manan had failed to notice that scooty in front of him, had a female rider. She was wearing a transparent rain-coat, too loose for her. She looked back at him in cold annoyance and then to the rear of her scooty. Because of the rain, it was hard for Manan to judge if there was any damage to it. He soon realized that he had to waste the weekend getting the dent in his car, which he didn’t even know the extent off.
The girl motioned him to pull over. She took her scooty to the side, as close to the footpath as possible. Manan was nervous then. He knew that if she made a scene, bad things could happen to him. He had seen too many videos of road rage, over things minor than this.
Manan pulled over, parked his car behind the girl’s scooty. The road was busy, and he shouldn’t be parking the way he did. Every vehicle which went past him, gave him an angry honk. He turned on his hazard lights, and saw the girl walk up to the window. Manan assumed the most apologetic face he could muster, and said, “I’m so sorry, ma’am”
He couldn’t see her face properly, until she lowered herself, and rested her arms on the window-sill. Manan felt the rain droplets splash from her rain coat, on to his face. He was too nervous to tell her to back-off.
Her face was one of the most intense faces that Manan had ever seen. She had a sharp nose, and square jaws. Her eyes were lighter than normal, and her lips thin but delicately shaped. Her face was wet with rain water, but he could see how blemish-free and fair she was. Up close, he could see that she was wearing a kurta and jeans, underneath her raincoat.
“What was that? I almost lost my balance and fell off my bike” she said
It’s not a bike, but Manan kept quiet.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t judge the distance. Let me see how much the damage is” Manan reached for the door lock.
“There’s no need for that. There’s no damage, but it could’ve been really bad. You should be more careful while driving. I am sure you were texting while you were driving” She said.
From her voice, and the way she talked, Manan guessed that she was probably the same age as he was. Manan spoke without thinking, “I wasn’t texting. I was looking at somebody —” he paused, “I thought I saw someone I knew, I was distracted”
She sighed and said, “You should feel lucky that I am not making a ruckus”
Manan nodded. “Please let me make it up to you. Can I drop you where you are going?”
“What? No, thank you. And what would happen to my scooty?” she said
Stupid. “Yeah, of course” Manan rubbed his neck in embarrassment. If only I had talked to more girls in college…
She left without a word. Manan rolled up his window and waited there till she rode off.
That evening, he jerked off thinking about that ass he’d seen on the footpath and the scooty-girl’s voice. He imagined being slapped by her, as she rode him. He imagined her telling him to be careful, to not cum inside her. He imagined kissing her thin lips.
Before falling asleep that night, he re-thought his habit of ogling at women on the road and touching himself in the car. There have been times when he would unzip himself and touch himself while driving. It would have been way worse if he had done that and forgotten to unzip when the scooty-girl walked up to him.
The next day was same old work, the same old faces, the same old jokes at office and the same old rainy commute back to work. That evening he was more focused on the road, only stealing glimpses of the asses on the road. He didn’t feel the kind of stir he would feel from seeing a fat ass in a kurta, neither did he make an effort to ogle at the belly rolls of a woman he would want to fuck from behind. He was 5 minutes away from his place, when he saw her.
He wouldn’t have recognized her if he had seen her from behind. In their short interaction, he had only seen her face, her jaws, her thin lips and her eyes. She wasn’t wearing her rain-coat either. She was walking with an umbrella. He recognized her by her jaws. And for the first time in the evening, he slowed down because he saw a girl.
She was walking on the footpath on his left. She was walking towards him, he had very little time to reach. He took a rather sharp turn to left, inviting angry honks from the vehicles behind him.
By the time Manan pulled over his car and parked it, she had walked passed his car. He turned off the engine, and got out of the car. His heart was racing, anticipating the reaction he’d get. He had never done this before. He had always looked at girls on the pavements from distance, he had only imagined doing things to them, but never had he thought he’d get out of his car and walk up to one. He hadn’t noticed her when she’d walked up to her, but when behind her, Manan loved how her jeans hugged her ass. That realization only made Manan nervous.
“Hey,” Manan called out.
The girl didn’t slow down. In the haste to get out of his car, he had forgotten to take out his umbrella. Unfortunately, the rain had quickened. Manan decided to brave the rain, to call out to the girl. He started walking towards her, prancing towards her.
“Hey” He called out again, this time he was behind her, close enough to tap her shoulder. But he wasn’t brave enough to cross the touch barrier then.
The girl stopped walking and gingerly turned. She had opened her umbrella by then, and the splash of rain from her umbrella fell on Manan’s face.
“Hi” He waved his hand, more out of habit than from any practical reason to gesture it.
“Yes?” Manan noticed her gripping the umbrella harder, and twirling it as she looked at him with her pale grey eyes.
She was wearing a floral kurta, which ended just below her waistline and a pair light blue denim jeans. Manan let his eyes wander on how snug the jeans were, and how juicy her thighs looked in the denim.
“I… uh…” Manan stuttered, “I couldn’t apologize properly last evening. I am really sorry that I wasn’t paying attention to the road.”
“Okay… Clearly you weren’t paying attention on the road this time too. How else would you notice me?” She raised her eyes brows and pursed her lips.
You are very easy to notice. Manan chuckled, “Fair enough. So, let me give you a ride? It’s raining hard. It’s the least I could do”
She looked around. “Where’s you car?”
“There” Manan pointed.
“But you were going in the opposite direction. I live around here. I have to walk for 10 minutes or so, and I’d be done.” She said.
“And besides, it’s raining hard, why didn’t you take something before getting out of the car?” She added.
“Well, you would have walked away, if I were late. And… “ Manan said, “I live around here too. I don’t mind taking a U-turn. Come on. I live in Aspire Apartments. You can text someone that if you are concerned about your safety.” He said.
Manan bit his lips after he said that. He was being too casual, and she was right, it made no sense to take a U-turn and try to find parking in the neighbourhood. Chances are, where his car was parked, was the nearest empty parking space to wherever the girl had to go.
She glanced at her watch. “Okay”
Manan smiled and gestured to walk towards the car. The girl adjusted her umbrella, so that it gave Manan some protection. Manan noticed that, and lowered his head, so that she didn’t have raise the umbrella too much. In a short steps they were near his car. He opened the door for her. As she got in the car, Manan looked at her ass. The jeans hugged her butt-cheeks, in a bespoke way, as if a tailor made it just to fit her. When she was seated, he closed the door, and got in the driver’s seat.
As Manan took the U-turn, he noticed that his pants had gotten wet from the rain. He felt a chill as the cold dry air of the car air-conditioner hit him.
“I am Manan”, He said, when they had started moving in the direction that the girl wanted to go.
“Ishita” She was busy tapping the strap of her umbrella.
“Nice to meet you” Manan said.
“You know, I don’t do this.” Ishita said.
“Do what?”
“Take lifts from strangers”
Manan chuckled. “Honestly, this is the first time ever, someone is sitting in my car, who’s not colleague or a college friend.”
“Oh!”
“So, where are we supposed to stop?” Manan asked. He was driving slowly, milking every bit of time that he had with her.
“I’ll tell you where. So, what made you ask me?” she asked.
“I told you. I was sorry, and I couldn’t apologize. And,” Manan looked at her, “you could have made my life very difficult if you wanted to. I’m kinda grateful that you didn’t”
She smiled. It was first time Manan saw her smile. Her thin lips curved upwards, and she looked down, adjusting her wet umbrella again.
“Don’t worry about it. Nobody sits in that seat, it will have plenty of time to dry up,” said Manan.
“So, you live around here? I am assuming you are coming back from work. Where do you work?” She said.
“At Worli. Yes, I have been living in the neighborhood for a couple of years now, different flats, but I like this area”
“You have always been here?” Ishita asked
Manan told her about himself. He left out the part where he would ogle at girls, and that’s why he got into that incident with Ishita. She told him that she grew up here, that she finished her college a year back, and had started working in an advertising firm as a copywriter.
She had sweet voice, a contrast to her stern jawline and sharp features. She was shorter than Manan, probably up to his lips, but her body had an imposing aura. Manan noticed how well she filled the seat beside him, how the strap of the seat-belt dug onto her breasts. She wasn’t completely dry from the rain, she must had been walking without the umbrella when it was drizzling.
Manan grazed through her thigh, with the pretense of changing the gear. She didn’t take her legs away instantly, instead, adjusted herself just enough that Manan would have to go out of his way to touch her again.
“You can stop here. I have to go there” Ishita pointed to the pharmacy at corner. Manan stopped in front of the pharmacy. There was no way for him to park the car.
“I’ll wait here.” He said as she was getting out the car.
She bent down, and peered inside the car. Her breasts, were too hard to ignore, but Manan had to look into her eyes. He knew she will tell him to go away, that it was okay and she could walk back. Instead, she said, “I’ll be back in a minute”
As he waited for her, Manan saw himself in rear-view mirror. He ran his fingers on his beard, to shape them. His hair was sticking out in spikes because of the rain. He adjusted his shirt, he adjusted how his sleeves were folded and he sniffed himself to check for any BO. There were some honks and some angry stares. He didn’t care.
He saw Ishita walking out of the store. She was looking on both sides of the road to cross it. There was a breeze outside, which made her kurta stick to her. Her breasts looked much bigger than he had thought earlier, especially when contrasted with her bottom-heavy lower body. She had left the umbrella in the car, there was a drizzle, and she looked beautiful walking up towards his car.
She started talking as soon as she sat down, “So, keep following this road, I’ll tell you when to take the turn.”
She had a big bag of medicines in her lap. Manan decided not to ask her who it was for.
“I have lived here for quite some time, but hardly know anyone around. You are the first person in the neighborhood with whom I spoke more than a sentence, except for a tapri wala” Manan was driving slowly, even though he had a good idea about which turn she would ask him to take.
“Oh” Ishita said, “None of your colleagues live around here? I have always seen people from the same workplace rent flats in vicinity”
“Yeah, they do. But, it never worked out for me. I live alone, I like it that way. But, it has been fun talking to another human close to home” Manan said.
Ishita smiled but didn’t say anything. Manan chose his next words very carefully, “So, if we shared our numbers?”
“That’s the turn” Ishita pointed.
Manan looked around, and started taking the turn.
She was silent after that. She took out her phone, and was checking Social Media, as he took the turn.
“Okay… But what will we talk about? You don’t plan on hitting my bike again, do you?” she said.
Manan let out a nervous laughter, “No. I don’t know. But if it’s that the only way we can talk…”
Ishita told him to keep going straight, “I’m almost home.”
He stopped in front of the gate of her society. Ishita said, “Alright, tell me your number”
Manan looked at her, she had the phone on her lap, he took it as an excuse to look at her thick thighs, as he gave her the number. When she was done, she stated getting out of the car.
“Bye, I hope you know how to go Aspire from here” she asked.
Manan pointed at the phone on his dashboard, “I’m pretty bad with roads. But I’m sure Google will take me home.”
“I hope you remember this road for a while” she waved her hand, as she closed the door.
Manan smiled and pinned the location where he dropped her. He didn’t take his eyes off her as she walked away. He had stared at countless asses, observed the curves, and jerked off to them. That evening, he was focused on one ass, he knew he will go home and jerk off to her. Her voice, her thighs and her ass.
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