I had met him at Sterling cinema on Sunday last. I had gone to watch Sherlock Holmes morning show. The cinema hall was not crowded, and I thought probably Sunday morning is not the time most people in their right senses would trudge towards a local theatre to watch a movie. Though I had been an ardent follower of Arthur Conan Doyle's fiction novels and short stories I found the latest movie a tragic representation of the world's best detective ever. But I sat through the first half of the emotional interludes exposed by the actors with absolute disdain. I was even feeling a little depressed by the time it was recess. During the break I went to the loo first and then sat at the foyer near the stall that was selling popcorn. Caramel popcorn is my favourite but my day was spoilt by the movie. When the movie resumed I did not enter the cinema hall. I ordered for the popcorn and sat there munching it, wondering what to do till afternoon when my parents will be back home. My mood was so foul I didn't even feel like going to any friend's house.
A short while later I saw a young man who must be in his early 20s come out of the cinema hall and walk towards the food stalls at a leisurely pace. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to go back to the movie. I immediately knew from his disposition that he was not interested in the movie and was going through the paces only because he had paid a stiff price for the ticket. I looked at him till he reached the stall. He well knew that I was watching him as there was no one else in the expansive foyer area but he chose not to notice me. I deliberately kept an indifferent look on my face as if I was lost in my own thoughts. After he bought the large bucket of cheese popcorn he came to sit close to me with his legs brushing against mine. I did not move but just kept that expression of being lost in thoughts.
"What a lousy film", he said looking into my bucket of caramel popcorn.
I pretended to suddenly come back to this world. I gave him a sharp look. He slowly raised his head to look at me.
"Excuse me," I said looking at him with pretentious confusion. He was least unnerved by my pretense or otherwise. He extended his hand to me. I shook his hand impulsively.
"My name is Akash Gore. You seem to be as disgusted with the film as I do. I have been reading Sherlock Holmes since my school days and I have seen almost all the TV series on him".
"Oh, is it? That makes two of us," I said not knowing how to continue an uninvited chat.
"I couldn't attend the special class on book keeping in my college as I was late," he continued. "So I thought of spending some time watching this movie before I could catch up with my friends or go for another movie. Sunday is always a lazy day."
His easy familiarity was a little unnerving to me. My brain started to crackle to come up with some interesting story to tell this young boy. To tell him that I drove from Ambernath on a Sunday morning to south Mumbai to watch my favourite detective film was too banal. I was struggling to think but he continued his easy conversation while looking sharp into my eyes. He seemed to be sizing me. So I did the same to him. He was fair, smoothly rounded at corners, with a puffy and oily face, and a cute smile that never left his face. There was also an equally attractive dimple on his left cheek. Even a 80-old could be turned on with that dimple. He was wearing a somewhat tight three-fourth and equally tight T-shirt made of thin muslin. That could be the day's fashion for all I cared. The three-fourth was emphasising on his package between his legs just as his well-developed thighs. The red colour of the nearly transparent T-shirt and his fair skin beneath blended strangely. I could almost see his brown nipples through the transparent shirt. I quickly shifted my gaze lest he would suspect my sexual overtures.
"Are you a student?" he asked with some expectation in his voice.
"No, I am a banker. I work with SBI. I have done a two year MBA course after my graduation. Are you staying around CST? Where do you study?" I asked in quick succession. I was getting nervous with this overly confident young man who was at least five years younger than me.
"Oh, no, sir. I stay in Kalina. I study at Siddharth college. Where do you stay? I would graduate this year" Akash said.
"I stay quite far away. I am put up in a private township at Ambernath. I stay with my parents."
"Are you going back home now?"
That was a loaded question to ask me. Actually I had no other plans. So I told him so.
"Then hop into my car. I will drop you at Ghatkopar station. It is a saving grace to meet someone useful when a Sunday morning has been spoilt badly. I wanted to learn about the prospects in PE fund industry for myself. I am more of a marketing guy."
He almost got up. I didn't show any sign of leaving for home. I just sat back, spread my legs wide and and sunk further into the couch. I took my time to respond.
"Hmmm... marketing has gained a lot of importance these days in the banking sector simply because of the competition from private and foreign players. It's no more the same. You will certainly have a great future in this sector."
Akash was tentative. And the confidence in his voice sounded laboured.
"Then come on, my car is parked just behind this building in the lane near Excelsior." He got up without checking if I was agreeable to his proposition.
I got up and joined him. His personality had some magnetism, and his attire added to that appeal. I watched him closely from behind. He was walking unusually slow. His shoulder and the backbone were well etched and clearly visible through his red netted shirt. At that age everyone's body looks the best, I thought. His arse was so well rounded and well distinguished by the tight shorts he wore. I was sure it was his underwear which was helping him get that perfect shape. Once when my foot hit his from behind he started to walk faster. He was tall and his pace was much faster than mine. He had an athletic built, probably from playing football. I could not place the mild deodorant that he was wearing, but it was really good. I was getting charged up for no reason. Though I was only four or five years older to him the fact that he was still a student brought a huge generational difference between us.
Within about five minutes we reached the backside of Excelsior building. There was no one around. The desolation seen in entire south Mumbai on a Sunday morning makes one aware of the other extreme of this metropolis. The century-old buildings which witness world's most hectic commercial activities right through the week, suddenly on the weekend become completely abandoned. We reached his red car which was the only one parked on the empty street. I waited for Akash to go round the driver's side. I stood at the passenger side of the car with a wall behind me. He took out the car keys from his pocket and instead of pointing it at the car he walked around towards the passenger side. He was still looking at the car keys when he reached my side. He pushed me against the car and held both my hands against the car almost impaling me.
And instead of getting alarmed at the assault I stood there without reacting. His face came near mine and slowly our lips locked. His thick lips were sweet. My mouth was already running dry. His lips and tongue started to explore my inner gums. Our tongues met and I could taste his saliva. We must have kissed for almost 20 minutes with our eyes closed and body leaning hard on each other. His left hand pressed my crotch and my easily detected erection was fighting his squeeze. I then opened my eyes to look at him when he separated from me. His whole body was wet in his own sweat just like me. The sun was still not fierce but I could feel sweat running down my torso and legs. Sexual feelings are really strange, I thought.
"Let's now go," he said and went around to the driver's side, wiped his lips with his backhand, opened the car and unlocked the other doors.
