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Of all the colors she could have worn that day, Uma chose to go with peach. “I wish I’d left you at your aunt’s house more often. She would have taught you how to dress like a bride- to-be”. Uma could almost hear what her mother would have said if she’d seen her. Thankfully, Uma was alone. She’d just hopped down from the bus and was standing in front of a ‘CLOSED’ sign hanging from a rusted screw at a yellowing sliding door. She stared up at the board that said “Noor’s Mehndi Parlour”. She was in the right place, but clearly it was the wrong time. With a frustrated sigh, she pulled out her cellphone and punched in the number that was displayed in a corner of the poster board.
Uma heard the ring three times before hearing a crackle and then the voice on the other end said, “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Noor from the henna parlor?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“I am Uma. I wanted to get my henna done for my wedding. I am standing in front of your parlor right now”.
“The parlor is closed. I am out of town”. There was a tone of arrogance and dismissiveness in Noor’s words. Uma wanted to ask whether that was the way Noor talked to all of her customers, but decided against it and instead said, “At what time will you come back? I want to finish this at the earliest”.
Uma frowned at her choice of words. “Finish this at the earliest”. As if it was an unpleasant task- applying henna. Uma loved applying henna. She loved the designs, the patience, the effort, the fragrance, the smiles of admiration at her intricate work…it all seemed so different now. She was getting married and she was not very thrilled about it. Her mother had been widowed a couple years back and she believed that marrying her daughter into a rich family was the only way of returning loans and paying bills. Uma didn’t get to pick her husband; she didn’t get to pick the wedding date and she didn’t get to pick people in the guest list. “Wake up from your fairy tales” her female relatives told her when she complained. The only thing she got to pick was her henna designs. No one was interested in attending mehndi for a widow’s 30-year-old daughter and her mother was not very enthusiastic about arranging food and entertainment for 50 people. So, Uma decided to take the bus to the market all by herself and find some cheap parlor for the only thing about this wedding that she was looking forward to- henna.
“Hello? Hello?” Noor’s husky voice shook Uma out of her ruminations.
“Yes?”
“I said I will come back late in the evening. I’m guessing you cannot wait that long?”
“I can wait. I will come back in the evening then”.
There was a pause. “Are you sure?”
Uma said yes again. After hanging up, Uma realized that there were other parlors in the market place and it was stupid of her to say that she would wait for Noor. Nonetheless, she walked back to the bus stop and stood leaning against the steel bars. She saw Noor’s profile on Truecaller. It showed ‘Noor Ansari’ as her full name. Uma thought she had heard that name somewhere, but again there could be a dozen Noor Ansaris in this locality; it was not an unusual name. She looked for Noor’s profile on Facebook, hoping to see photos of her henna patterns. She found it at the top of her search results. Below her name, she saw the words ‘St. Columba Public School, Gandhinagar’. It was the same school Uma had been going to for ten years before she started junior college. Noor Ansari? She tried to recollect the names of her classmates. The bus arrived with a screeching noise and Uma’s thoughts were interrupted. She hugged her purse and climbed in.
Later that evening, Uma’s phone buzzed while she was brewing tea for her uncle’s family who were visiting to congratulate Uma and her mother on the wedding. She looked at the screen. It was Noor. Thanks to the suffocating presence of her relatives, Uma had completely forgotten about it.
“I am closing the parlor within another hour. Are you coming?” Noor asked.
“Oh. Okay, I will be there in some time”. How? What was she going to tell her mother? Who goes to a henna parlor at this hour? Uma chided herself for being stupid once again. But she really wanted to go because she would have given anything to be away from her crowded, humid, noisy home right then. After a hushed argument with her mother, Uma left the house in a huff. She didn’t wait for the bus, she got into an autorickshaw and stuck out her head through the door, inhaling cool air.
When she entered the parlor, she realized that it was empty. “What do you need, madam?” a familiar voice said from behind. Uma spun around and saw a bronze skinned woman wearing a pale yellow salwar kameez with a white dupatta over her head. The fabric was hugging her body tightly. A bit too tightly, Uma thought. It almost looked suggestive. But again, it was evident that Noor had every reason to flaunt herself. She had a slender waist and seductive hips. She had grey eyes and a small pointed nose. She was wearing a silver nose ring that Uma couldn’t take her eyes off.
“Where did you get that ring?” Uma chided herself again for being stupid. Not only denizli escort was the question irrelevant, it was also redundant because she could find that ring right next door in the cheap jewelry shop. But Noor didn’t seem to mind. “My sister gave it to me as a birthday gift”.
“It looks lovely on you”.
“Yes. So, you where do you want to do it?”
Uma was startled by the kind of thoughts that crossed her mind when she heard those words.
“The henna. Do you want me to come to an address or are all the ladies heading over here?”
“Oh, no. It’s just me. The parlor is fine”. Noor stared at her for a moment and then bent down to pick up a henna tube from a plastic box. She threw a stack of worn out magazines on the floor and told Uma that she could take her time to decide. As she leafed through the designs, Uma couldn’t get Noor out of her head. It was then that she remembered Noor from school. Noor sitting on a bench in the corner. Noor, who never talked to anyone except when she was helping someone with homework. Noor, who had wrestled a guy down in mud when he had tried to catcall and harass her. Uma’s face lit up.
“Do you remember me? From school?” she asked suddenly.
Noor looked up from her phone. “What?”
“St. Columba Public School?”
“Oh. Yes. Uma, is it? I thought I’d seen you somewhere…Well, it’s a small world after all”. Then, she continued to stare at her phone, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear.
“I didn’t know you were good at henna. Were you doing it when we were in school?” said Uma.
“No.” Noor said with a smile. Her smile was polite, but there was something dry and impersonal about it. But what was Uma expecting? They had just met after so many years. Still, Uma found herself craving Noor’s attention. She wanted Noor to look at her. She wanted Noor to stare at her body and…
“It’s so hot!” Noor said and Uma’s eyes shot up to look at Noor. “I’ll switch on the fan”. Noor switched on the fan and sat down beside Uma.
“So. Which one do you like?”
Uma realized she hadn’t really paid attention to the designs. She pointed at one of them mindlessly and held out her palm in front of Noor. Noor placed the tip of the tube on Uma’s wrist and started drawing. Uma realized that she was getting goosebumps. Her hand trembled. Noor clicked her tongue and held her by the wrist. “Hold still”. Uma nodded and gulped. She tried hard to ignore everything that she was feeling at that moment. But Noor’s dupatta had slipped down and Uma could see a tattoo on her breast. She felt a strange thrill on knowing that she was looking at something that Noor clearly wanted to keep private.
“Do you draw tattoos as well?” Uma was mentally kicking herself for saying this. Noor stopped drawing and stared at Uma. Uma hoped it would come off as a casual question.
“No. It’s a henna design. I don’t like tattoos” Noor said. So, she knew what Uma was talking about. Uma felt her face reddening with shame and her earlobes heating up. She didn’t say anything after that. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Noor. Noor, with those beautiful grey eyes, that collar bone, those shoulder blades, those breasts…
“Do you want it on your feet as well?” Noor said, interrupting Uma’s scandalous thoughts.
“Uh, no. How much do I owe you?”
Uma paid her and was trying to wiggle into her shoes outside the parlor, trying not to spoil her henna when Noor tapped on her shoulder. “I have these designs…it’s a new trend among brides. I want you to check it out and let me know if you’re interested.” She held out a brown paper bag, then realized that Uma couldn’t use her hands because the henna hadn’t dried. In fact, she was even struggling with putting on her sandals. Noor took a step closer and stuffed the parcel in Uma’s purse. She stood there for a moment, her toes stepping onto Uma’s. Uma’s face was hot with excitement. She lowered her neck, trying to zip her purse, her nose nuzzled against Noor’s forehead, drawing a sharp breath. Uma wanted that moment to last forever. She willed Noor to keep pressing on her toes; her toe ring felt cold against Uma’s skin. She hoped Noor would stand there forever with her head lowered so that Uma could smell her hair a little longer. But Noor quickly stepped back and turned away, busying herself with putting the henna tubes and magazines back in place. Uma stood there awkwardly, unable to do the straps of her footwear.
“Umm…Can you help me with this?” Uma mumbled.
Noor looked back. “Oh. Sure”. She squatted near Uma’s feet and strapped on the belts of her sandals. Just as she had finished one shoe and was about to turn to the other, Uma noticed that Noor’s dupatta was gone and she’d undone the first two buttons of her kameez.
Uma couldn’t sleep that night. She made sure that her mother was asleep and crept into the living room where she had left her purse. She took out the paper bag that Noor had given her and looked inside. She stared at those pages wide eyed. There were women, naked women, lying down bare backed and bare chested with henna designs izmit escort weaving through the most intimate parts of their body. There were flowers, leaves, loops and motifs on their breasts, bellies, thighs, hips and even their crotches. Most of them were fully naked except for the plumes or peacock feathers occasionally placed between their thighs. Uma felt a tingling between her legs. She locked herself up in the bathroom with the pages still tucked under her arm. She looked through each page, taking her time to appreciate every design. She took off her clothes and tried to touch herself. When she closed her eyes, she saw Noor doing unspeakable things to her body. The image of both of them rolling around in bed naked, kissing and caressing, taking each other by surprise…it drove her crazy.
She clutched at her breast and slipped a hand down between her legs. She thought about those designs and she imagined Noor sprawled on her stomach naked, pressing down a pointed henna tube on Uma’s skin, perhaps her inner thigh? Then Noor’s hand would start trembling. She would blame Uma for not lying still and would put a hand on her lower waist to hold her. She would slip a finger into Uma’s belly button and Uma would gasp. Noor would ignore it with a sly smile and would continue drawing, her loops and curves inching toward the space between her thighs and her vagina. “You think the henna will dry well down there?” Uma would ask. “Not if you’re gonna stay this wet,” Noor would say, her fingers tracing Uma’s clitoris. Uma would moan and squirm. “I told you to lay still” Noor would chide her, bending down to plant a kiss below her belly button. Uma would lift her hips from the bed, wanting more. The kisses would go lower and lower, Noor’s nipples touching Uma’s legs below the knees, raising fresh goosebumps all over her body. Noor would chuckle. “You’re too sensitive” she would say. And then she would lick her clitoris with her tongue…It would feel so…
Uma’s fantasies were interrupted by the sound of someone banging on the bathroom door. It had to be her mother. Uma realized it was past midnight. Through the thick glass panels fitted in a small space to make a bathroom window, Uma could see traces of faint yellow. It was dawn. Uma shoved the papers under her dress, covered herself with her dupatta and opened the door. Her mother asked her what she had been doing in the bathroom for so long. Without waiting for an answer, she changed the subject and told Uma that her in laws were coming over for a visit that evening.
“I need you to go down to the market and get something sweet. If we feed them well, it will be easier to sweet talk them into paying for the venue” her mother said.
Uma’s mind was not on sweets. She was frustrated and angry with her mother for interrupting the sweetest dream she’d ever had. She was feeling uncomfortably hot and itchy. She needed to finish what she had started. It was so unfair. Uma decided that she wanted those designs. She would surprise her husband on their wedding night, Uma thought. Uma cringed. She decided she didn’t want to ruin this day by thinking about her husband.
Uma told her mother she was heading out to buy sweets. “I also need to stop by my office for some paperwork”. She added.
Her mother frowned. “You should tell them that they cannot disturb you like this when you’re on leave for your wedding. Whatever it is, it can wait”.
“No, it cannot wait” Uma said. “I cannot wait”, she thought to herself.
She didn’t call Noor. She just stood outside the parlor and knocked. When Noor opened the door, she did not look surprised. She switched off the fan and lights, picked up her purse, stepped out, locked the door and took Uma by the arm toward the bus stand, as if she knew that Uma would come, as if she had zero doubts about it. They waited for the bus wordlessly but when the bus didn’t arrive after fifteen minutes, they got into an autorickshaw without any discussion. Noor told the address to the rickshaw driver. It sounded like the name of a cheap lodge.
“I…I hope you don’t mind…I mean that’s all I can afford…” Noor started to say. Uma squeezed her hand, telling her it was okay. Uma would have normally cringed at the thought of doing it in a lodge. But she was next to Noor and she would have gone to a brothel if Noor wanted it.
The first thing Uma noticed while facing Noor in the bedroom was the absence of her nose ring.
“Where’s your nose ring?” she asked.
“I took it off”
“Why?”
“I thought it would…it would come in between while…”
Uma blushed a deep red. “While doing what?” she asked, as if intoxicated by the heat and anticipation. Noor stepped forward and without warning, kissed Uma on the lips. With her hands, she pinned Uma’s shoulders to the wall behind. They couldn’t stop kissing. When they finally pulled away, Noor slipped her hands under Uma’s dress, kissed her neck and whispered, “Take it off. All of it”. Noor’s hands were already on her breasts and the fabric was starting to tear.
Soon enough, their clothes were piled up on the ısparta escort floor and they were perched against the wooden backrest of the bed. Uma found herself growing bolder. She reached out for Noor’s breast and started kneading it while Noor was licking her ear. Noor’s skin felt smooth and cold under her hands. She fingered her nipple. Noor quivered.
“God you’re killing me!” she groaned.
“You started it.” Uma laughed. “If you hadn’t seduced me with your henna…” she bent down to suck on Noor’s nipples. “…this wouldn’t have happened”
Uma’s excitement had grown to a whole new level. Noor was pushing her down on the bed and her hands were reaching for her knees. Uma parted her legs a little, enough to let Noor slip a hand between her thighs. The moment her fingers touched Uma, Uma couldn’t help but moan. She spread her legs wide apart, just involuntarily, unaware of how obscene it might have looked. But Noor was clearly liking it because she laughed loudly and lowered her head between Uma’s thighs. Uma curled her toes and gripped the bedsheet with her fingers.
“Oh god this feels so good! I’ve never…Ah! I’ve never…”
Noor laughed again. “Stop talking.” She whispered. “Just tell me what you want”
Uma shut her eyes, taking in the waves of pleasure vibrating through her pelvis. What did she want? She wanted to be devoured by Noor. She wanted Noor’s hands all over her body.
“Touch my…” she was out of breath. But she didn’t need to finish that sentence. Noor put a hand on Uma’s breast, as if she’d read her mind. Her tongue was still teasing Uma’s clitoris and Uma could feel a wet spot forming on the sheet beneath her vagina. She felt Noor’s fingers rubbing against her hole, slipping in and out occasionally. The movement was subtle and intense at the same time. Noor took Uma by surprise with every movement and Uma was writhing with pleasure. When Uma arched her back expecting Noor to touch her breasts, Noor slipped a hand beneath her crotch so that Uma sunk back into the bed. When she bucked up her hips, Noor twisted her nipple between her thumb and forefinger so that Uma’s body went limp and she groaned with exasperation. She didn’t know what to do, what to expect. She felt helpless. She felt she was at the mercy of this sorceress and her mouth and fingers that knew how to touch her more than she knew herself. Noor slipped a finger inside Uma and started thrusting back and forth, gently in the beginning and then rapidly as Uma started grinding her hips against the bedsheet. Uma pressed a pillow into her own face to muffle her screaming orgasms.
“You’re welcome!” said Noor, pulling the pillow away from Uma’s face and putting her own body on Uma’s. Her breasts were touching Uma’s breasts and her pubic hair was tickling Uma between the legs, who had just waxed. The hair felt moist and warm and Uma was sure that she was not the only one responsible for that wet spot on the bedsheet.
“I…you’re…you’re just amazing”. Uma was still catching her breath.
“Oh, am I? I thought it was just the henna that seduced you” Noor said sarcastically.
“Okay, let’s see if you can measure up to this”. Uma said, fixing Noor with a challenging stare. She propped herself up on an arm and caught Noor’s ankle with the other, placing it on her shoulder. She placed her own leg on the bed beside Noor’s torso. Staring into Noor’s eyes, her crotch smushed up against hers, Uma started moving her pelvis, rubbing it against Noor’s. Noor raised an eyebrow. Clearly, Uma wasn’t as shy as she’d thought. She threw back her head, savoring each moment. A moan escaped her lips. Uma kissed Noor’s ankle and the tips of her toes and massaged her calf with her hand. Her nose was nuzzling against Noor’s feet. Noor squealed.
“Well, someone…” Noor was about to make yet another sarcastic comment when Uma started sucking on her toe. She was breathless. She couldn’t speak.
“Stop talking” Uma said, imitating Noor. “Just tell me what you want”.
Uma continued to move her hips and her breasts were jiggling back and forth with each movement. Her nipples touched Noor’s leg and Noor was getting goosebumps.
“Sensitive?” Uma teased.
Noor was too overwhelmed to respond. She just smiled, then broke into a grin, baring her teeth. Uma traced circles on the underside of Noor’s foot. Noor curled and uncurled her toes rapidly, her leg almost falling off Uma’s shoulder. With a giggle, Uma pinned down Noor’s shoulders to the bed and started using her fingers. Noor was insatiable and she knew it. But Uma was relentless. She moved with precision, responding to every demand of Noor’s just right. She rubbed Noor’s clitoris with her middle finger while caressing her lips with her index and ring fingers. She moved them up and down at first, then in circles as they dug deeper in the soft flesh. Uma could hear the clicking sound of Noor’s wet insides colliding against her finger tips. She kept going at it with a steady pace, then quickened the rhythm, switching between thrusts and rubs, making Noor moan and whimper, her head fallen back over her shoulders in ecstasy. Noor’s feet were trembling and her lower belly had begun to quiver. When Noor finally came, she was more breathless than Uma. She collapsed in Uma’s arms, who in turn collapsed on the bed and they lay there sweating and panting against each other, hugging each other’s waists, not wanting to let go.
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