Good things start early , but bad things don't take time. Do I need to explain it more?
I never knew when it all started. I left home with a bit of quarrel with my mom. I never thought that she would ever discover this. That really made me upset. I did not took efforts to stop the diatribe. I just walked out of the door. Totally poker faced. All I had a deep inhalation and exhalation of the white silver air. I was aloof, but I felt happy. I loved the smoke blown against my face, when I walked. I liked the existence of that joint between my fingers. Really felt if there was calmness, it existed only between this effluvium .
I don't know when I had a company of a girl. She made pretty good joints and I loved that she shared it with me. She was not just my bed partner, but all what I got when I left that metal door of my home. Ah! It was feeling so good to have her around. I never thought girls are so good when they are bad.
I did not realize when we reached ours new home. Some people would like to call it room, but I will insist having her around made me feel more like home.
Her soft skin rubbing my cheeks, when my head rested against her shoulders, in her lap, on her butts, on her chest. I loved the scent of her skin. Never thought of money. You know, you don't require money to live a life, you just need a life to live.
I never thought her as a wonder woman, but regardless of what I thought she was. She was not a drunkard like me, but used to accompany me on my every binge. I used get shots of all what was there on the counter, and she never stopped me. She liked the way I was and likewise. We had meeting of minds about every good, bad and ugly things. She never complained that I created any embarrassing scene, nor being foul mouthed. She always said that she likes to fly and when doped she was a bird. I believed her and always liked her to see her fly. I thought administering drug was better than being drunkard. I loved my bitch.
I was always carried home by her, as I used to lose senses after binge. Throwing me on the bed, she grabbed me every time. And I really liked it. I always love her to see her ride. Things are never easy to get. And people enjoy when they achieve something after working hard on it. The warm smell of sweat in the cold night was always pleasing. Someone can never explain what its like to experience.
I never remember myself waking up in my clothes. After all the nights hard work, I used to see all the room in some kind of abstract gallery. We most of time spend night laugh around, doing nothing. And I loved the feeling of being happy without a reason. I liked to watch her laughing. Her pouted lips stretched to a infectious smile. Those cold nights were always brightly lit by candles. Sweet smell of sweat and the cold breeze flowing right through the window, calming and soothing bodies. Its heaven.
I woke up. I saw the ceiling was different. I thought that we had shifted ours room in past few days. This was looking very decent. But it had only one room. And 2 bed, those were separated apart. I knew she can never do that. Finally, when I had opened my eyes to the bright sunlight, I realized that I was in hospital. Fucking hospital. It really shit to be in hospital. After this thought it soon struck me. I was totally shit. My parents some made me believe. Its easy to make a person believe you, when he is dying. I too did believe what my parents had to tell me. But I really missed her. My senses craved for her existence. But she was nowhere around. I never came to know what happened to her nor did any one revealed me what happened. I some how recovered and soon left the hospital with one thought in my mind that I will get my bitch back.
I was spending my lonely days and those dark nights within 10x10 bedroom. It always felt was I under house arrest. My parents never took my promise seriously, that I gave them lying in the hospital bed; half dead.
Almost 2 months later, my parents were loosening it up for me. I had my some of friends visiting my residence. One of my friend was going to fix marriage with some girl that his parents had chosen for him. I really pity him, because he himself does not know what the bloody fuck he wants. I told him couple of times, but it seemed that his parents gave him a very strong and wrong upbringing.
I accompanied him. The would be bride's home was semi luxurious. I really wondered, are all these thing important to live life. I bet those guys must have bought these things on rent.
Soon my friend and I started having a look around house. I knew that both the parties did this deliberately. But why the fuck was I forced fucking around with my friend. I left my friend and soon took different direction. I soon found myself into kitchen. There was pretty young lady cooking. She was dressed in a salwar kameez. I could see she glowing wheatish skin. She was glowing. She had long black hairs. Her dimpled cheeks was really appealing. And a beautiful wet lips. Her charisma, her looks, her figure, her cheeks, her limbs.... I could not stop admiring her. I had a proper look. She did not mind it. She was busy with her cuisines. I don't know what she was cooking and for whom, but the aroma was great.
No sooner I initiated a talk, my friend gate-crashed. Fuck! I hate my friends. I saw my friend talking to her with ease. Soon I realized, that they knew each other. And more over I realized, that they are more than friends. This was a trap to make their so called love marriage into a family approved arrange marriage. I really wondered how did this worked out. My friend asked me to keep an eye outside, so that they could have their time getting physical. At that instance, I really did not give damn about my friend or any other person. I was simply awe struck by her. Soon I saw them smooching and cuddling. This did not bother me, she simply swept me off my feet. I was on the path of discovery that day.
In between of all that, I was on my knees and proposed her....
I never knew when it all started. I left home with a bit of quarrel with my mom. I never thought that she would ever discover this. That really made me upset. I did not took efforts to stop the diatribe. I just walked out of the door. Totally poker faced. All I had a deep inhalation and exhalation of the white silver air. I was aloof, but I felt happy. I loved the smoke blown against my face, when I walked. I liked the existence of that joint between my fingers. Really felt if there was calmness, it existed only between this effluvium .
I don't know when I had a company of a girl. She made pretty good joints and I loved that she shared it with me. She was not just my bed partner, but all what I got when I left that metal door of my home. Ah! It was feeling so good to have her around. I never thought girls are so good when they are bad.
I did not realize when we reached ours new home. Some people would like to call it room, but I will insist having her around made me feel more like home.
Her soft skin rubbing my cheeks, when my head rested against her shoulders, in her lap, on her butts, on her chest. I loved the scent of her skin. Never thought of money. You know, you don't require money to live a life, you just need a life to live.
I never thought her as a wonder woman, but regardless of what I thought she was. She was not a drunkard like me, but used to accompany me on my every binge. I used get shots of all what was there on the counter, and she never stopped me. She liked the way I was and likewise. We had meeting of minds about every good, bad and ugly things. She never complained that I created any embarrassing scene, nor being foul mouthed. She always said that she likes to fly and when doped she was a bird. I believed her and always liked her to see her fly. I thought administering drug was better than being drunkard. I loved my bitch.
I was always carried home by her, as I used to lose senses after binge. Throwing me on the bed, she grabbed me every time. And I really liked it. I always love her to see her ride. Things are never easy to get. And people enjoy when they achieve something after working hard on it. The warm smell of sweat in the cold night was always pleasing. Someone can never explain what its like to experience.
I never remember myself waking up in my clothes. After all the nights hard work, I used to see all the room in some kind of abstract gallery. We most of time spend night laugh around, doing nothing. And I loved the feeling of being happy without a reason. I liked to watch her laughing. Her pouted lips stretched to a infectious smile. Those cold nights were always brightly lit by candles. Sweet smell of sweat and the cold breeze flowing right through the window, calming and soothing bodies. Its heaven.
I woke up. I saw the ceiling was different. I thought that we had shifted ours room in past few days. This was looking very decent. But it had only one room. And 2 bed, those were separated apart. I knew she can never do that. Finally, when I had opened my eyes to the bright sunlight, I realized that I was in hospital. Fucking hospital. It really shit to be in hospital. After this thought it soon struck me. I was totally shit. My parents some made me believe. Its easy to make a person believe you, when he is dying. I too did believe what my parents had to tell me. But I really missed her. My senses craved for her existence. But she was nowhere around. I never came to know what happened to her nor did any one revealed me what happened. I some how recovered and soon left the hospital with one thought in my mind that I will get my bitch back.
I was spending my lonely days and those dark nights within 10x10 bedroom. It always felt was I under house arrest. My parents never took my promise seriously, that I gave them lying in the hospital bed; half dead.
Almost 2 months later, my parents were loosening it up for me. I had my some of friends visiting my residence. One of my friend was going to fix marriage with some girl that his parents had chosen for him. I really pity him, because he himself does not know what the bloody fuck he wants. I told him couple of times, but it seemed that his parents gave him a very strong and wrong upbringing.
I accompanied him. The would be bride's home was semi luxurious. I really wondered, are all these thing important to live life. I bet those guys must have bought these things on rent.
Soon my friend and I started having a look around house. I knew that both the parties did this deliberately. But why the fuck was I forced fucking around with my friend. I left my friend and soon took different direction. I soon found myself into kitchen. There was pretty young lady cooking. She was dressed in a salwar kameez. I could see she glowing wheatish skin. She was glowing. She had long black hairs. Her dimpled cheeks was really appealing. And a beautiful wet lips. Her charisma, her looks, her figure, her cheeks, her limbs.... I could not stop admiring her. I had a proper look. She did not mind it. She was busy with her cuisines. I don't know what she was cooking and for whom, but the aroma was great.
No sooner I initiated a talk, my friend gate-crashed. Fuck! I hate my friends. I saw my friend talking to her with ease. Soon I realized, that they knew each other. And more over I realized, that they are more than friends. This was a trap to make their so called love marriage into a family approved arrange marriage. I really wondered how did this worked out. My friend asked me to keep an eye outside, so that they could have their time getting physical. At that instance, I really did not give damn about my friend or any other person. I was simply awe struck by her. Soon I saw them smooching and cuddling. This did not bother me, she simply swept me off my feet. I was on the path of discovery that day.
In between of all that, I was on my knees and proposed her....
