While she was making chappathi, I stood behind her claiming to help her and learn from her. My dick stood erect and touched her butt. I ran my fingers...over hers, helping her with the dough.After the chappathi was done, I insisted her on eating with me. Instead, she said she’ll serve as she had already eaten. I said fine, and when she was serving with her saree I touched her hips. They were heavenly. I said sorry, and she never responded. I felt that I had done a mistake by touching a woman. Women came here with the single purpose of hooking up. And frankly, until I had noticed the pain felt by this woman, the club scene had bored me tonight. The only betrayal of my boredom was my fingers tapping to the entrancing rhythm on the tiny glass table.The pairs and groups swayed, some lost already to the dance of love, which undoubtedly would lead to the tawdry romances in the bathrooms. My night was dedicated to finding someone who would come home with me and never be seen again. I had. More

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