Palak

I smell like soap, not perfume. Solapur heat is on my neck when I come in, a simple dress, nothing tight. Call girls who start with a strip are a different ad. I kiss you at the door, long, and I take your wrists and set them on my chest so you feel the weight. Squeeze. I like that more than talk.

On the bed I stay on my back. Dress open, your mouth on my nipples, one hand between my legs until I am wet enough to pull you in. I want you deep and close, my arms around your neck, not a show. I get quiet, then I say harder into your ear. Hold my thigh up. Finish on my stomach. I will look at you while you do it, hair spread on the pillow, still catching my breath.

A call girl who likes it this close will not rush a highway lodge. Budhwar Peth if you are central, Chitra if that is the room. Hotgi Road only when the booking is already done. Tell me you can be patient for five minutes. I will come with the dress loose and your hands already on my mind.