The REAL reason why women are sluts.

The reason why we remember some incidents forever is because we have a strong emotion attached to it. This is why I'll never forget why women are such sluts!

I am a fourth generation wooden toymaker. Hailing from a toymaker community, it was an obvious choice for trade.

Things aren't that great in this trade anymore--from the lack of skills to stiff competition from the mass produced China-made toys. People prefer cheaper plastic toys that come in so many varieties.

After a frustrating turn of bad sales near the city bus-stand where I usually sell my toys, I decided to call it a day. Tired and hungry, I boarded the evening bus to my town. By now, the discomfort of hunger overtook the pain in my tired shoulders and feet.

The bus started about an hour late. With nothing to look ahead for, I closed my eyes to rest and sleep. Few minutes in the journey, I felt something brushing on my face. I opened my eyes to see a colorful piece of cloth, gliding in the air while touching my face. It was from the dress the girl sitting in front of me. I didn't object initially. Moved it away a couple of times but it'll always glide back in.


Already filled with frustration from the disappointing day, I called the girl, "Hello! (with aggression) Can you please correct your dress, it's touching my face." Listening to this, she turned around along with few more nearby passengers.

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I couldn't believe my eyes, she was way more beautiful than any doll I had ever made or saw. She was a delight to look at. Bright flawless skin, dark long hair with the right amount of curls, thick eyebrows to compliment those fish shaped eyes. Her eyelashes blinked... and my heart skipped.

A low mesmerising voice, almost as a whisper, murmured, "I'm so sorry". She tugged her dress. That was one of the most memorable short conversation I ever had in my life. It started a chain reaction in my mind:
'Who in the world is she?
'Is she from my town?'
'How can I talk to her again?'
'Was it really this beautiful goddess' dress touching my face?'
I hit my head in anguish for the way I spoke to her; leaving no scope for me to have any further conversation.

The bus stopped for a break, so did my run of luck. With a heavy heart, I got out the bus. With every sip of hot tea, I was still hoping to somehow turn my luck and get her to talk to me.
Will she ever talk to me? With this question, I started to walk back towards the bus. The gloomy sky and gentle breeze added to the romance.

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At this moment something magical happened, she looked at me and smiled from her window. I turned to see if it is indeed me or someone behind me she smiled at; looking at this, she smiled again. I couldn't believe if it is really happening? I got inside the bus while trying to maintain eye contact.

The bus started, but my mind stopped. I was trying to understand what had just happened. Am I dreaming, is it really the goddess that smiled at me? Whatever it maybe, it gave me a wicked courage. I could get her, is what my mind was telling me.
Without any more delay, I started making small advances. I extended my leg until it was the closest to her without touching her. Without waiting any further, I made the minimal contact with her leg. They say some touch make you realize how you are supposed to feel. This touch gave me such feel. I could feel the shiver down my spine. With every passing stop, I was getting bolder.

She didn't stop me. She didn't hesitate. I think I even saw her smiling. She probably was enjoying all this. So much for the goddess. What a slut!

I was about to reach my destination. She was still in her seat. The way she was sitting, I am sure she was travelling beyond my stop or was she enjoying what I was doing it to her and decided to travel further. What a slut!

The conductor yelled my destination.  Disturbing the sensual tension I was enjoying. Darn! I had to leave. Thinking of how bad a day I had to the pleasure I had with this beautiful slut.

You know how you want to feel anything one more time when you know it is your absolute last time? I made a plan--drop a coin, while lifting it, touch her leg. A skilled man's hands are his other pair of eyes.

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I dropped a coin near her leg and swiftly bent to pick it up. While picking the coin, I caressed her leg. Somehow it wasn't that pleasurable. It wasn't anything close to a soft and slender leg I expected her to have. There wasn't anything sensual about it. I couldn't enjoy it. Before anyone could notice, I got up, walked down the bus and stared at the girl.

She again passed a brief to smile and turned away. Only this time, it wasn't sluttish, it was divine. She had no legs but had a great smile.

The bus started to move and so did my tears....