Arun's stomach rumbled. Which was strange, since he had just eaten. True, it was some shady biryani from that shop mysteriously avoided by food inspectors. But still. Or, maybe it was because he had to keep semi-bungee jumping from the footsteps of his overcrowded bus.
'Yeah. Maybe.' he thought.
But not really. It wasn't that. The problem was simply that - at the last minute - he was getting cold feet.
He supposed that it wasn't unexpected. After all, he had come here to walk into the hotel across the street, where he planned to lose his virginity to a hooker.
This would have been easier if the glass of tea he had ordered had actually helped to calm his nerves. Unfortunately, it gave him more detailed information on the brand of detergent used by the shop.
Sinking into his chair as he tried to avoid the gaze of the shop owner (now trying to advocate for some of the less moldy tea biscuits), Arun looked at the hotel in question again.
He had spent hours, peering through shady websites, stalking the profiles of escorts (they were obvious enough) on tinder, and making discreet enquiries on which massage parlors offered 'extra' services before settling on a hotel for accomplishing the goal of 'devirginisation'.
The final choice, the Grande de la Grand Hotel, Bangalore was not the kind of establishment frequented by the wealthy and sexually liberated. For starters, It lacked that excellent ability of hotel staff to pretend they hadn't seen their clients every other week since New Year's with a different woman.
But, it was respectable enough to avoid being visited too often by the police. And more importantly, the receptionist was willing to be bribed into forgetting to make an entry of Arun's stay in the hotel ledger.
So, everything was set. Everything was a go. And that's all it took for him to get stage-fright.
'She's probably in the room by now' Arun thought restlessly. He had been cautious while contacting different women. Mainly, he stuck to a couple of burner email accounts and a basic phone to verify that he was talking to the real thing and not fat Sriram from his mom's basement.
But even then, the search had been nightmarishly difficult. Two women claimed to be teenagers that were simply
dying
for a taste of his cock, but a quick cross-reference of their numbers flagged them as scammers. More men than he'd care to count had picked up the phone as well. And once, someone's grandma had answered the phone. He shuddered when he remembered how the lady had screamed abuse at him when he had asked her for a hooker.
'I mean. She could have been the pimp' he thought with a grumble. Still, the prostitute he finally asked to come over seemed legit enough. She hadn't asked anything too specific, merely a date, time and location. She also asked him about STDs and for a picture of him. He agonized over that for a long time before his dick finally decided for him.
After a few moments of waiting with bated breath, she replied to his selfie 'Aw. You look cute! I was worried you'd be some fat old grandpa. Glad that you're not! XOXOXO See you soon!'
Did hookers normally talk like this? Maybe in the movies they did, he thought with a scoff.
So, to play it safe, he'd asked her to make things easier by reaching there before him. That way, he could check out the scene carefully and then decide what to do. Or at least, he would have done that, if he hadn't been rooted here, too scared to do anything.
That plan was that it would also give her time so that she could - well, she could do whatever sex workers did before her client came over. Arun had only the vaguest idea of these things, but from the Japanese Hentai he had read, prostitutes normally showered ahead of time and put on sexy lingerie that left nothing to the imagination.
Not that his virgin brain needed much material to start letting the imagination juice flow. The thought of a sexy prostitute in black gossamers and suspenders waiting for him just a few meters away caused him to pop a boner. Shifting uneasily in his chair for a moment, he tried to wrestle with his mind. For a moment, it seemed that his will to lose his virginity would overcome his stage fear.
Then his watch beeped, informing him that it was 8.15 PM and his feet turned to lead again.
She must be in
. If he didn't make a move to join her soon, she'd think he had dipped and would leave.
Arun sighed again.
It wasn't that he had terrible looks or didn't have social skills. Girls in college and at work had called him cute all the time. His height, at six feet, made up for his slender, unimposing frame. Straight, black hair limped over his forehead and partly obscured his ears. There was not much to complain about but he often agonized over his large nose and slightly-crooked teeth.
Still, nobody made the assumption that he was still a virgin. Most of the guys were content to believe that his skills with the guitar and soft voice had probably gotten him laid.
He was also quite happy to play along with them and pretend that he just wasn't going through anything serious yet. But the truth was that his v-card was well and truly unpunched. Call it bad luck or an issue with the timing. But something always went wrong.
Especially with Trisha - everything had gone wrong with her.
The thought of his ex-girlfriend made his stomach churn again. He started to feel despondent. Logically, he could understand what she did to him, being a software guy after all. But you can't really write a few lines of code and hope that you'll stop feeling like shit. Nah.
'I can't do this' He thought, finally. He was feeling too fucked up now and besides, he was always aware in the back of his head that there were a lot of risks to hiring a prostitute.
Instead of some sexy thing in lingerie, there could be some TV channel in the room running a sting operation? What if it was all a prank by some social media influencer? He vaguely remembered that some YouTuber had invited desperate men to a hotel and then shamed them for trying to hire hookers.
Besides, ordinary people
saw
. They wouldn't say anything for now, while he was around. But he had no doubt that they'd have much to say after he left.
'Especially this guy' he thought with a glance at the teashop owner. The man was now trying to tempt a young couple with samosas that looked like they would give them all the heart problems needed for a lifetime in one dose.
"
Bhaiyya
", A new voice called out. "One
dum (cigarette)
please"
Arun looked at the newcomer. It was a pretty girl, about medium height. At first glance, she seemed like another of Bangalore's endless procession of undertrained and underpaid call centre workers. Her muted, blue kurti was typical for those sort of offices and the loose coat that hung over her shoulders was working double-time as a scarf. Her shoes were nondescript, flat chappals. Probably a backroom drone rather than a front office type.
As if to further prove his observation, she pulled down the face mask obscuring the lower half of her face. From what he could see, it didn't look like she was wearing a lot of makeup, save for a touch of gloss on her lips.
Something was unusual about those lips though. Arun couldn't exactly explain what it was but it bugged him. As he kept watching, his eyes fell on her hands as she accepted the cigarette eagerly proffered by the shop owner-
