It has been long, dork. I know it will feel different, but I want to do this. For me. I deserve it after the hell I have been through.

— Aisha to Kabir [unsent]

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   Aisha stared at the huge crystal mirror in front of her, and looked at the woman standing in front of her. She wore a golden V neck short dress which hugged her curves perfectly. Her hair was trimmed medium length from usual long length, and she wore make-up heavily like a second skin. Her five inch black stilettos made her legs look long and sexy.

   She looked gorgeous. She felt it too. It had been a long time since she felt desirable. Maybe it was the post-pregnancy weight she had put on, but being pregnant at twenty one was nasty business. In these three years, she had barely lived life for herself. It had always been for her boss — now ex-boss — Mrs. Jane Ann Shclutz, or her little angel — an absolute tyrant — Anmol.

    She wanted this, needed this.

    She flipped her hair, and sighed. Breathe in, breathe out. Even single mothers deserved a chance to live their life a little. This prolonged celibacy she had imposed upon herself has been a little too much now. It wasn't like she didn't remember how good it felt to enjoy the sexual intimacy with a person she found attractive.

    Granted, she knew it was different with the person you loved. But it wasn't as if she was looking for emotional intimacy. Flushing out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, she got into the Aurora which was known for its night life and classy crowd. 

    The entry gate made sure the place was well rid of horny teenagers; it was almost funny that it was her own mom who had told her all about this place. Her preferred hook-up place before she had met her step-father.

    When she walked inside, she turned on her man scanner. It had been so long, but she didn't want to regret this decision tomorrow morning. She was swarmed by a couple of men, and she decided to cross them off. Nothing good ever come from desperate people.

    After an half-an-hour of thorough scanning, she finally gave up, and marched towards the bar counter. "Tequila on rocks. No salt." She smiled at the bartender.

    "Drinks say a lot about the person." An ominous voice boomed beside her. Aisha turned around to look at the man sitting beside her.

    He wore a pair of spectacles, so he was already high in the points, Aisha thought to herself.

    "Oh?" She chuckled. "What does—" She pointed towards the teenager girl who was grooving to the beats of the music with a lemon drop in her hand, "—that say?"

    "That she's a vodka girl but should stick to rum."

    "What about sangria?" Her gaze pointed towards the woman who was dressed in pink, and sat meticulously on her seat without a hair off its place. 

    The guy smirked, showing off his perfectly white teeth. "She can't handle rough sex or her Cabernet without the fruit."

    At that she laughed loudly. "What about Dirty Martini?"

    "She swallows it every time." Her gaze automatically shifted to his crotch. He was healthily built if the way his trousers fit him say anything.

    She cleared her throat, and took a sip of her own drink, realizing her throat had gone suddenly dry. "Rum and Diet Coke?"

    "Sister of Pi Beta Phi who speaks via screaming and will definitely be crying twice before the night is over."

    "What about my drink?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a questioning gaze.

    He leaned towards me, his mouth lightly brushing against my ear. His words were a soft, sexy whisper. "Woman of my dreams."

   "Aisha."

    "Virat."

    Aisha looked at him, and knew what it was. It was all boiled down to looking and liking and attraction. She knew she liked Virat. Liking was enough sometimes for fucking. He seemed carefree even though his specs made him look older than he probably was. He was safe because he didn't make her feel like something had grabbed her gut. He was lean, around 6 feet in height, and someone she could kick in the balls if things went wrong. He could barely have been twenty three or twenty four.

    "Tell me you're not a minor."

    "Does it matter?" he asked, raising a brow, as he sipped his own drink.

    "Well, of course. I don't want to be arrested for statutory rape."

    "I am twenty three." Okay, so she was two years older than him. That couldn't be all that bad, could it?

    "You know what Whiskey on the rocks mean?" She asked him, referring to his drink as she turned sideways to face him.

     Virat got off his seat, standing erect on the ground. "You tell me, Aisha darling." God, but his voice was like man-child.

    Aisha looped an arm around his neck, dragging him closer. "They are about to get lucky."

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    Kissing, there should've been a lot of kissing but Aisha just gave Virat a peck or two on the lips, and attacked the buckle of his belt to loosen his shirt.

    She could hear noises from the other room, and could only assume they were from his roommate. Aisha giggled, feeling a lot like a college kid rather than a responsible mom. She had lost the glory of adulthood by getting drowned in responsibilities and Anmol.

    Okay, maybe now was not really a good time to reminisce about her daughter when she was half naked in the apartment of a practical stranger.

    A predatory smile etched on Virat's lips, as he fondled with her breasts through the dress. He yanked away the top of the dress down, revealing the smooth graphite bra she had been wearing. After tossing the fabric out, he cupped her breasts skin to skin, and Aisha's breath hitched.

    "It has been long." She groaned when he dipped his body into her chest, tasting and tugging.

    "You taste good. Like honey and lavender." Aisha rolled her eyes, knowing that these must be the lines he would use on every other woman he got into the bed with. She knew very well the mechanics of men. You taste like your aloevera soap, Aisha. A voice whispered in the dark part of her mind. That was real.

    "Bite," she muttered exasperatedly. "Need your teeth." At one point in her life, she had thought, she would never have to do this again. Telling the person what she really wanted because she had it all. A good career prospect, a loyal and loving boyfriend, a great life.

    Virat's tongue skimmed over her skin, and she let out a throaty moan.

    Gripping her hips, he pushed her dress down all the way to the ankles before getting out of his shirt and trousers. Next were her bikini pants which balled down along with his boxer briefs. He settled beside her, his palm against her skin, lower on the backside, closer to her legs.

    Aisha shut her eyes close, feeling a jolt deep in her center when she moaned into his chest, and sank her teeth onto his skin. That was the end of his control.

    In a blur of movement, she was sprawled on the bed, her knees bent to her elbows while his hand dug through the bedside table drawer for a condom. Kneeling between her legs, Virat rolled it down, and slammed into her with one demanding motion. He couldn't resist a smug smile when her eyes rolled back and her lips went slack. 

    "God," she groaned. It was a lingering feeling, before he withdrew and sank into her again. Hips crashing, fingers driving crazy, and thrusts demanding, together they felt their mangled sighs and moans and breaths.

    An airy moan escaped Aisha, with an unmistakable grin as Virat felt her climaxing. He felt satiated too, not quite but still close.

    Aisha, in that moment, felt filled yet not complete. She turned to face Virat, and knew what was missing. The feeling of being loved and being in love. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel that way again.

    She quickly shook her head, driving him away from her thoughts when she heard louder moans from the other room. They were still going on, Aisha made a funny face. "Your roommate is wild, Virat. Very wild."

   "Oh, no, no, Aisha darling. That's not my roommate." He gave her a broad, broad smile before adding, "That's my wife, Anushka."

   Aisha's smile disappeared, and she already regretted her little escapade.