What was meant to be a rendezvous with the would be bride
Ended up in disaster 

The interaction between our eyes
Was enough to set the ball rolling 
I happened to be photographer
Her flirtatious spirit 
A graze here
A wink there 

We managed to sneak into her room
On the pretext of solo shoot 
In the cacophony of marriage setting
A last ride before I wear the marital chains, she said mischievously
Lifting her lehenga 
As she unzipped my pant 

Taking my member in her mehendi ladened hands 
I was flying high...

But the tingling in my phallus 
As she caressed it
Gradually escalating to fire
I realised it was the mehendi effect
I pushed her away 
And ran into the washroom to wash it away
But the firey sensation refused to fade 

Cursing my fate 
I left her there
Only to capture the rest of the marriage
With atrocious discomfort.
©LR