Since his return Rohan started hearing the voices more clearly. When somebody asked him in Hindi, What did you find in Dehradun, ‘Laddoo’? He thought it was his own self, mocking him for failing to get a clue. The voice said again, Tell me. This startled him as he looked around in his office. He asked, ‘Who are you?’ The voice turned into an undecipherable jingo again. It was not yet clear to him if it was his own conscience talking to him. Maybe he had taken the advice of his teachers to be self-critical too seriously. He could not be sure of it. Yet, he could not take away his mind from trying to find it out. While he and Lavie were at Dehradun, the disturbances stayed. He was always self-conscious of them especially when outdoors. He tried again. Fearing the people at the institute would hear him talk to himself, he spoke in his mind using his inner voice.

Are you somebody I know? No sooner had he finished, his head jerked upwards. And his eyes opened wide. A voice spoke angrily in the same foreign language. The words were like a hammer striking him hard. In the middle of those strikes he could hear, do not ask. It could not have been him, he thought as he slowly brought his head back to the normal position and went stiff again to prevent anything from happening. It is you, said the voice as she laughed and closed his eyes. ‘Fuck,’ Rohan shouted at the top of his voice, loud enough for the neighbours to hear. The voice laughed and said something in a foreign language. The words sounded familiar to him. They were definitely something he had heard before in a movie. And then like white lightning, it struck him. Her sentences, specially this one was very similar to those spoken in Russian porn movies which he had so eagerly devoured in his college days. Were the ghosts of his actions getting back to him? Or maybe one of the exploited Russian porn stars had a bone to pick up with him for his sexual foray into their videos. He also understood clearly what her last words were as the subtitles flashed in his mind. It meant, this is what I want. Rohan said to himself, ‘I will be damned.’

Are you a Russian? He collected himself and asked her using his inner voice.

No Russian. Indian. The voice answered. Both his hands went up. When he brought them back, he asked, why are you doing this to me?

You are doing this to yourself.

What do you want?

Suicide, it replied.

He stiffened up again and sat on his bed with a fear in his heart the whole night wondering what was happening.

By then Rohan and Lavie mailed to each other every morning regarding their experiences in the night. When he wrote to her about the conversation he was having, she narrated a similar experience. They decided to talk back to the voices in their heads.

Next night while deciding to sleep the voice came into his head again. He asked it.

How do you know me?

Somebody laughed and produced a random noise. This irritated Rohan and he started abusing the random noise like a madman.

‘You fucking bitch. Just get the fuck off me, or I am going to cut your throat. You prostitute. Behenchod, I will fuck you some day, for sure. And you will get back the results of what you are doing to me. You whore. You will get fucked proper.’

The voice went silent again. Then he heard the word Suicide. Scared, Rohan stayed up staring at the wall of the ceiling the whole night waiting for the sun to come up. In between he would hear the words Ullu (owl), a laugh and a random noise. Suicide would come up again and again.

Since that day, the voice had started abusing him badly. Abuses of mother, sister, and family rung in his head all day making it impossible to work. Sometimes his head and his legs would move involuntarily. He had realized that if he put his mind to something else, the effects of the disturbances were greatly reduced. So, he went out early to his office and stayed there as long as it was possible. There was a fear that a sudden jerk or movement could make his situation conspicuous to others. But despite this, staying alone at his house was a bad proposition as he could not get his mind off the disturbance. Then there was the constant push to commit suicide which scared him. He tried to think what could be done. The person on the other side was really agitated. He had abused her last night. Let me try the opposite today, he said to himself.

That night, he said to the disturbance. You have a beautiful voice. She laughed and the random noise came back. Rohan waited. In a few minutes, the voice said. Everybody says that. What else do you like about me?

You are a good person.

Yes it is true.

What is your name?

I will not say. And take this. A random noise pierced his ears and made him jump in surprise. Rohan stared at the ceiling in disbelief. He was convinced that it was a real person he was talking to and who had been tormenting him for some time now. This time he easily deciphered the feminine voice, not his. Also he had never thought of himself as a beautiful person ever in his life. This meant that it was not his own voice talking back and his mental health was good. It was a relief, a confirmation that his brain was working fine. Calming himself, he talked to the voice.

Can you let me sleep?

Yes why not? Go to sleep, I will not do anything, she said.

Rohan closed his eyes and a minute would have passed before the noise came back and his hand went over his forehead. He was not even sure if this was done by him or the person on the other side. He opened his eyes to listen to the laugh at the other end.

You should not sleep.

He did not speak to her anymore.

Lavie’s mail next morning had nothing new. She wrote about her experience, the stress she was going through in life and her will to do anything to get rid of this problem. She had confided about it to a friend who had laughed and said that she could write a science fiction novel about it. She had known through Rohan that the voice on the other hand was that of a human. While making an effort to talk to the voice, she had similar experiences of irritating behaviour from the other side and urges to commit suicide.

One day, the voice on Lavie’s side looked dumbed down and sad. The irritating noises were subdued and curses were mild. Lavie tried to strike a conversation. She mentioned about Russia to check her response. Initially the voice would disregard her efforts, but at a certain moment, it started crying. Lavie could hear the sobs.

Why are you crying? Lavie asked her slowly.

Something bad has happened to me. I am going through a rough phase. I miss my country. What is it to you? Why don’t you commit suicide early? I will be out of this mess. I want to get out of this. I have to complete my studies and get a job in Russia. If I continue to stay here, I will lose my future. You will have to do it any which ways today or tomorrow. Just get done now.

Lavie was surprised at this. Her words not only made sense to her, but it also showed a weak side, a human side. She was not a woman manipulating her thoughts, but a human burdened by pain. Under such situations, Lavie knew well from her journalistic learning that people could be made to speak their pain to somebody who is willing to listen. She was more than willing to play this role.

I am sure today was a bad day for you. Don’t worry, it will be alright tomorrow, she said.

No, it will not be. You don’t understand. I am stuck here with my husband. Abideh has got me by the neck. I have to get this work completed and get out of this. How can I survive on a lie to my family and friends?

What lie are you talking about?

I am working in a software firm. That is what I told them.

You are lying to me. Aren’t you?

The voice on the other cursed her for a minute and then broke down.

Yes, but how did you know?

From the way you spoke it. Tell me the truth.

Next morning Lavie wrote a long mail to Rohan. In it, she told him that the women on the other end are call girls from Russia who had been hired by somebody called Sophia. The woman she has been connected to is codenamed RSA-5.  She is one among dozens of such girls from erstwhile Soviet Union countries, who have been illegally living in India for past few years. They either do some menial work or enroll in a course of study. But their real source of income is serving rich clients in the power circles of Delhi. This Sophia had trained them in this particular technology which they called IMAGED for two months and since then they have been employed by Sophia to work every night on different clients. Sophia works for someone called Abideh. RSA-5 wants to get back to her country. She has saved enough and is fed up of doing this work. But Sophia won’t let her go as trained girls are not easy to get. Also, Sophia has her passport and has threatened her with prison, if she doesn’t stay until her replacement is found. Hence RSA-5 has to stay. But she has been promised that if this work is successfully done, the chances of her leaving India for her own country are high. The woman who is connected to Rohan is RSA-6. The final sentence in her letter said,‘Whatever happens, be good to her.’

‘It is impossible for me,’ replied Rohan.

*

Suhasini and Chisti were on a call. Chisti was the head of the Aniruddh corporation, the biggest winner in the coal mine auction.

‘Thank you Suhasini. Your firm made it easy for us to win the coal mines. Without your help, we couldn’t even think of starting a powerplant in the area.’

‘There is no need to thank me Mr. Chisti. Its a part of our job. I hope you have made plans to extract coal from your mines.’

‘Yes, we are moving our machines. There have been some anti mining campaigns in the area. Should we be wary of these people?’

‘These tribals are always protesting. They think the land is their fathers inheritance. If it was on me, I would shoot each one of them and mine the resources. The minerals are important for the countries growth, you see.’

‘Wow, you are really angry. But yes I agree. These minerals will fuel our growth. By the way, what is this talk about the mining mafia I am hearing. Is there a mafia?’

‘Yes, there is. A number of locals and businessmen have become millionaires selling these minerals. They have developed their own system of theft and entered local politics. They have nurtured criminals. But we don’t need to worry about them. They will never come in our way. We have a bigger political clout. They are local and state level players.’

‘Good to hear that. Our German collaborators for the power plant are already on site and construction has started. It’s going smoothly.’

‘It will all be smooth Mr. Chisti, We will not let these tribals ruin the golden future that people like you are building.’

‘Sure. How is Anand doing?’

‘He is good, a little busy with the state elections in Punjab.’

‘Oh yes, do they hope to win?’

‘They are confident. But one can never be sure with these elections.’

‘That is true. Anything up for discussion Suhasini?’

‘No, this is it. I wanted an update on your progress. Let’s catch up sometime when I am in Mumbai.’

‘Oh yes of course. Talk soon.’

‘Talk soon. Bye.’

*

. Rohan is reading the latest issue of Games and Economic Behaviour, a journal of economics. There is a paper in it by Prof. Dinanath, his last published paper. The paper is about the patterns of bidding in India’s mineral auctions. The research paper had studied the bids of previous years to find a common pattern in bidding. It had a model which clearly predicted the last four digits of the winning bid and some of the other bids in the auction. This meant that all the bids submitted by the colluding party had the same last four digits and one of them always won. Surprisingly, this model gave results in many recent government auctions where natural resources were sold by the government. This meant that there was a cartel of firms bidding together in these auctions following this pattern. Rohan wondered if this research was known to the policymakers in the ministry as these could help them prevent collusive bidding. But before he could be sure of the model, he had to use it on some of the other auction data and get conclusive results.

He decided to look into more recent auctions. Few days’ earlier government had conducted an auction to sell coal mines to interested bidders. Rohan searched for the all the relevant data which the model required. He then put the data into the model equation. The number which appeared for this auction for the Jharkhand mines near Bokaro was 2319. He checked over the website for the winning bids. The last four digits of the winning bid were 2319. ‘Goddammit, it’s the same number,’ he thought referring to the number on the forehead of the two dead professors. This meant that Prof. Dinanath had found out a pattern in bidding of this cartel, and had rightly predicted this pattern for the winning bid for the mines in Jharkhand. To check further and know the names and bids of all firms which had bid in this coal auction, he decided to file an Right to Information (RTI) with the Government. When he checked the location of these mines, they were close to Mala’s village.

Next, he went over the government auction site to look over at the next auction. The closest auctions were the iron ore auctions in Jharkhand. He gathered data from different data sources provided by the library to fit into the model. Thankfully all the needed data were present which he downloaded in his folder to be given as an exercise for the class tomorrow. He converted it into an assignment for the class. Before leaving office, he sent the research paper to the group email id of the class.

In the evening, he had a long conversation with Lavie over phone.

‘So you are saying that the auction of these coal mines in Jharkhand has everything to do with the deaths.’

‘Yes, I am sure of it. There is conclusive connection. Both the professors were against the interests of these coal mining firms in their own way. And both of them were potent threats. If the policymakers knew of this model, they could prevent collusion and most importantly identify the ring members. And if the other professor was alive, he would be actively providing arguments to the tribal who are fighting for preventing coal mining. Getting both of them out of way helps the bidders immensely.’

‘So one thing is sure.’

‘Yes you have the same thoughts.’

‘That is where you need my help.’

‘Yes. The name of the winning firm is Anirudh Corporation, a new entrant in the coal mining business. It already has experience in the energy sector, but as a consultant. We need to know as much as we can about it.’

‘Fine. I will see what can be done.’

‘Thanks a lot Lavie,’ said Rohan with a sigh of relief. He had no more work at his office, so he left for home early. His mind was stuck on the murder and the model. Prof. Dinanath had become the victim of some conspiracy. He picked up the diary on reaching home.

Date: 23 June 2014

Place: Mumbai

Auctions

Auctions are a dirty business in India. The corruption is rampant among the bidders. Strangely, apart from a few researchers, these instances of corruption have not been studied. Why, do I ask is this the case? The answer is the Indian mindset.

I remember asking a few of my economist friends to co-author papers with me on Indian auctions. Surprisingly, each one of them said no. They do not want to get into this dirty business. They are happy looking at the Neoclassical models predicting the Indian economy.

What they don’t understand is that the economy is being eaten up by corruption from within. According to Transparency website, Indian ranked 94^th in the Global corruption perception. For a country that wants to be a Vishwaguru, this is a serious malfunction. You cannot become a Vishwaguru with such rankings.

My guess is many of these auctions are treated like family and friend’s party. The bidders in the auctions are well aware of each other’s bids. Auctions going online have reduced such instances. Yet my hunch is that collusion happens and is rampant. The government is the one loosing revenues. Yet one cannot shrug and think that some of their own would be involved in these acts through bribery. God save this country.

End

*

During night the agent turns up again with her random noises and instigations. He was waiting for her to arrive as a man waits for his local train in Mumbai to take him home every night. It had become a routine and by now even Rohan had learnt a few tricks. He felt his hands moving and knew that the disturbance had come.

How are you today? He asked her.

Keep your dirty mouth shut, she replied. He had expected something like this from her foul mouth. He had stiffened up already and had connected the random time generator alarm. The woman had always wanted to know about his activities. This helped her maneuver her own. It was important that he did not get too absorbed into conversing with her, hence he had written a small code on M S Excel to generate an alarm at random time intervals between fifteen minutes and an hour. As soon as the sound of the alarm was heard, he would change the activity he was doing. As per his understanding, a change would break her concentration, and reduce the effects of her manipulative movements on him. A random process was important as the other person should not know about his plan to prevent him from getting manipulated. The problem he was trying to solve was that if Rohan knew, the woman on the other side would also know, as they are connected through their minds. The alarm which rung at random time intervals kept the surprise.

She was gloomy today. The abuses were not coming. It was just the random prickly noise which irritated him. In between he would hear about suicide, but that was it. When the random generated alarm rung for the second time he decided to break this deadlock.

Do you know who Abideh is? He asked her. There was no reply from the other end. He continued, I know it is Abideh who killed Prof. Dinanath. She was still silent. In another minute his head jerked up and a volley of Russian language words flowed like dirt in free flowing wind. He could not make out what she was saying, yet he knew her mood. He had stiffened up to prevent any movements from happening. She was now shouting at him not realizing that he could not understand anything. When this dawned upon her, she said, ‘who told you this, you motherfucker? Tell me now or you are going to have a really hard time. Tell me you son of a bitch. He kept quiet.

There was a brief silence during which she did not say anything. He felt her unease and for a while he thought it as his victory. He was elated and started moving his hands and hips. In a minute, he turned to dancing imagining a woman on the other side with both his hands in the air, one on her waist, other in one of her hands. She felt an urge to dance as well through the connection.

Do not dance you asshole, she said.

Shut up you bitch, he said in return. Why don’t you dance with me? I am a good dancer.

She was feeling the urge and rose up. She followed his steps in her own office. Foot by foot, hands at the right place, the body swaying to a music that nobody played, both of them responded to each other perfectly.

We should meet sometime, he said.

That is not possible, she relayed.

Why is that? he asked.

I do not wish to meet. I would be killed if I do so.

Oh yes I understand, it’s serious.

Who told you about Abideh? She asked taking a turn.

He kept her turning through his mind.

I got to know it from the agent who is connected to Lavie, he replied.

Oh I see. So silly of her to tell you.

Who, you mean Lavie or the agent? he asked.

The agent, we are not supposed to disclose information. She was in full flow now swaying her legs tilting at an angle of fourty five degrees.

Oh I see. That is why you would not tell me anything.

Yes my dear.

Would you let me sleep today? I am sure you must be tired too.

I would love to sleep, you know. But I am on a job. She was reminded of the fact that she had to hurt Rohan. She stopped dancing.

What happened? Am I not a good dancer?

You are, but I cannot dance anymore.

Rohan sat down too.

This is not fair. We deserve to have some fun while we are connected.

I am not supposed to have fun with you, but to hurt you, she said.

You have hurt me enough. My whole life is in disarray. What else do you intend to do to me? Don’t you have a heart?

The agent sat numb for a while. She scratched her hair, irritated with herself.

Why don’t you die, you bastard! How dare you make me dance with you! she was angry.

I don’t understand this business of yours, killing people by connecting through their minds. Do you like doing it?

It doesn’t matter what I like. I have to do it.

How about I made you laugh to liven up your mind?

Can you do that?

Yes I can. He eased off on his bed, put the pillow under his head, crossed his legs and said this. A wife asks her husband to treat her the way he used to treat her the first time they met. The husband, taking this request, took her to a big restaurant the next day for a candle light dinner. He was in a romantic mood and they relived their romance having tasty non vegetarian food. She blushed and smiled as they talked. After dinner, he treated her to ice cream with her favourite butter scotch flavour. They took a walk around the garden at the lawn of the restaurant. The wife felt she had turned young again with the man she loved. After such a beautiful night, the husband took his car and dropped his wife to her mother’s house and bid her goodbye. She didn’t say a word overwhelmed by the night imagining this as to be another good intentioned gesture. Since that night, a week has passed and he has not picked her up. Both the mother and daughter have been calling him. He fulfilled her request.  He waited after finishing the joke. She was giggling.

That was a good one. She said.

How long have you been in this profession? he asked.

For a while. But you are tough. It was not so difficult with the others.

I see. That may be because of a reason.

I don’t care what the reason is. She said tiredly.

Today I found out the reason for which Prof. Dinanath was killed. It was his economic model which could predict collusion and hence help the government catch the culprits.  I think he had talked to somebody in the government and Abideh came to know about it. Do you know who Abideh is?

Stop asking me about her. You should stay away from her, she said sternly and after a while she took a yawn. I would like to sleep today. You can go to sleep too. I will keep the connection working.

Rohan felt a sense of relief. Sure lets go to sleep.

That night he got to sleep peacefully.

*

Abideh was informed about it. It was mere coincidence that she had called in to inquire about the progress. She was expecting some good news like the first jolt to your enemy when you are in a fight, something to shake them up. But what she heard made her careful, it brought a sour taste into her mouth. It was then that she knew that Rohan knew of her codename and also why Prof. Dinanath had been killed.

Every murderer, however powerful they may be, has deep fears inside. They are aware of the lines they have crossed, however joy those murders may have bought. They are afraid of the uncertainty future will bring. Abideh realized that her honeymoon period is over. From here on, she has to stay on her toes or her ambitions, and dreams to destroy are going to end.

Abideh knew that the way the events had occurred, Rohan had no proof with him. If he narrated his story to anyone, he was dammed to be called a madman. There were only few people on earth who knew about this technology. And all of them were with her. She was not sure if he knew about IMAGED. This was the first thing on her mind. Second, it was important to focus harder on him, use all the facets of the technology on him and to know everything he thinks and everyone he talks to. He had to be irritated to the point of insanity. Only after that, she would make arrangements for his funeral. She had also realized from the messages that both Rohan and Lavie were in constant touch with each other and by now working with each other. RSA-6 never revealed the codename to Rohan. Abideh decided to temporarily halt any communication with Lavie as long as one of the other agents doesn’t get free. She knew RSA-3 would be free in a fortnight after which she could be asked to reconnect with Lavie. Most importantly, it was the first time somebody had leaked her codename. RSA-5, who was working with Lavie, had to be punished to give a signal to the other girls. As long as no other information is revealed and somebody worked diligently on Rohan, things should be fine. She had to get the best in business on him. She made arrangements to punish RSA-5. Her dead body was found near the shopping mall in Dehradun the next day.

Next day Rohan felt relaxed. He had had a good night’s sleep. There was no disturbance he could feel in his mind which meant that the connection was not there. He prepared breakfast and went to the institute at 10 a.m. He had to attend a research seminar at 12 p.m. and take a class at 4 p.m. Everything went smoothly as any normal day.

In the evening, he returned back to his home. He lighted a cigarette and sat on his laptop to watch a movie on Netflix. There was still no disturbance. The movie was a crime thriller and it ended at 9 p.m. He had his dinner at 9:30 p.m.

In the night, after dinner, he took a novel to bed.  He was sure he would be connected in the night, he had been accustomed to it. One of his hands was holding the book while the other one was kept on the bed. Sometime later the hand on the bed made an involuntary motion and he knew she was there. He expected a violent movement of his hands. He did not stiffen. The movement of his hands was slow and smooth.

Are you there? she asked.

Yes, he replied.

They killed RSA-5. I am shocked.

What!! Was it because of us?’

No. It was because of her own deeds. Nobody talks of Abideh.

Oh! This Abideh is a bitch.

Forget her. Today I will show you something special.

It had been decided by Abideh that RSA-6 would use the virtual presence technology to trouble Rohan. Sophia had been duly instructed and she had been given the Param-10 supercomputer laptop to make the connection when needed. The office was empty because there was no RSA-5 to accompany her. RSA-6 pressed the button to make herself visible to Rohan. He was taken aback.

Holy shit! What is this?

It’s me dear.

Rohan saw a white woman with blonde hair and height of around 6’2 ft. standing in white short pants and a half cut pink top. Her nose was straight and a little pointed, her lips were thin and red and her eyes were bright and shiny. He could clearly see her cleavage, there was a little black mole on the top of her right breasts. Her pants were short and her fair thighs were clean shaven. She was not wearing any sandles. There was a hint of smile on her face.

Surprised, you bastard.

Is this possible? Am I dreaming? You are the same lady connected to me.

Yes, she stretched the S.

What kind of devil are you using?

She laughed at it. He could see her white teeth. She had a beautiful smile. Rohan thought to himself that this was the most beautiful woman he had seen in his whole life. She heard it and gave him a wink.

Can you see me? he asked.

Not yet. But this is possible as well. Both of us can see each other.

Unbelievable. I feel like the chosen one.

The chosen one to commit suicide. I am not supposed to let you sleep today.

Oh I see. Another sleepless night. It’s good that I can at least see you.

The whole night she tried to trouble him. Sometimes she would generate that irritating noise, other times she would abuse him. But something had happened between them in the last two days. Every time she would try a trick, Rohan would bring her into conversation. Instead of being troubled, he had started enjoying it. Deep down, she was a good lady even though they had been meticulously trained and instructed to be menacing and cruel to their targets. They ended up talking the whole night about sports, movies, filmstars, Delhi, Russia and so on. In the morning, she had to leave.

You are good company Professor, unlike the others before you, she said.

You are no less my dear lady, he said.

Now I will disconnect. I hope I have troubled you a bit. She winked.

You have, every bit, he smiled.

Goodbye, see you tonight.

Goodbye.

The next night they started conversing again. This time RSA-6 connected them both ways so that she could see him as well. She saw a brown coloured well built man of around 6’3 ft. in height with well parted hair and straight face. He was in his shorts and t-shirt. They would smile, laugh, fight and sometimes discuss serious issues like politics as well. Overtime, in subsequent days their friendship grew to such an extent that Rohan thought about her during the rest of the day as well and dreamt of her while sleeping in the mornings on Saturday and Sunday.

On the tenth day, they decided to play a game. They chose a number and each one had to immediately think of a word which had the number of letters same as the number. The first number was 2.

Pa, she thought.

Ma, he thought.

Both of them giggled.

Next number is 3.

You, he thought and then said ‘No. No. No.’

Sex, she thought and put a hand to her lips.

They did not laugh.

Can this brilliant technology of yours assist in making love, just wondering?

I don’t know. To be honest I tried to seduce some targets before, as a part of a plan to terrorise them.

Can you seduce me? he said and laughed moving his finger as if saying no.

I would love to, she said.

Then do it.

Are you ready?

Yeah hell I am. It was 12 in the night.

She put a finger to his lips. He could see it but did not feel the sensation of a touch.

Kiss it. She said.

He kissed her virtual finger. She added another finger to it.

Kiss it again. He kissed it. She added a third, fourth and fifth of her fingers. He kissed them each time.

Did this seduce you? she asked.

Not really, he said.

Wait. She stood up and unbuttoned her pants slowly moving her hips. He smiled. She pulled up her top to show him her bra.

They look juicy, he thought.

Would you like to touch them?

He put his hands forward and touched her left breast. She took his hands and put them upon it.

Did this put you on?

Yes. Can I touch the other one?

Sure you can.

He put his other hand forward and caught hold of her left breast.

I hope I could press them in real.

She grinned.

Can I see you naked? he asked.

For that, I need to see you naked first.

He opened all his clothes in a hurry. After that, she took her time getting rid of each item of clothing one by one: the top, the pant and the bra. She stopped at her panties.

Open them, he said.

I feel scared. Hope nobody knows it. Hope this isn’t been recorded.

This fucking thing can’t be recorded. It’s impossible to record it.

Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

She slid down her panties.

They made love the whole night. It was a different sort of lovemaking. There was no sensation of touch, yet they could see each other clearly. When she lay down on her bed, Rohan felt she was lying on his own bed. He got over her and pumped himself into her. His sexual organ had responded. When he lay down on the bed, she could sit over his organ. She moved over him, he pumped hard into her. She sucked him while he moved his organ. They could feel it as real as having actual sex. The mutual ecstasy in the mind was overwhelming, it led and cheered them on. They tried different postures of lovemaking. She was adept at it and Rohan was no novice.

We need to buy sexual toys to assist us, he said at the end.

No. This is fine. I love it. This is lovemaking of the future.

I wish there was a sensation of touch,’ he said while lighting a cigarette.