Mira

Bandstand was windy. My hair is a mess and I am not fixing it. You booked an escort in Bandra, not a girl who needs the route explained. Pali Hill, a Linking Road hotel, Lands End if the key is already in your hand. I come up, sandals in one hand, and I look at the bed before I look at the minibar.

I talk while I drop the dress. Something about the sea, something about your shirt. Then I stop. I push you flat, climb over your hips, and kiss you so you shut up too. Your hands can go to my waist. Not my schedule. I undo you myself. I want to feel you get hard against me, skin on skin, before I take you in.
Facing you. That part is not a negotiation. I move slow, hair in both our mouths, and I tell you when it is good in a voice that is almost a laugh. Stay. If you grab my hips I allow it. If you try to flip me I sit up and make you wait. Escorts in Bandra who only do the quiet hour are a different night. I get loud when I come, and I want your eyes open for it.

Finish on my chest while I am still over you. Condom if you stay inside. Mouth only if you ask before you are gone. Not my face. Anal is off the table, said once. One man. Cash when the door shuts. Write the hotel and a time that is still evening. I am not crossing to the east side of the city for a maybe.