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The Day Our Words Finally Held Hands

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For sixty endless minutes, I stood in your hometown, With a pink rose in my hand, and a heart that wouldn’t calm down. The streets kept moving, the clocks refused to slow, But I was waiting for one beautiful face I had waited so long to know. I wondered how you’d look, how your smile would appear, Would you be just as beautiful as the girl I’d held so dear? Then there you were, dressed in white, with flowers woven through, And suddenly, the whole damn world looked beautiful because of you. Your smile was like a sunrise breaking through the grey, Your eyes held little universes I could get lost in every day. And there I stood in white, with nervous eyes behind my glasses, A boy who’d rehearsed a thousand lines, forgetting every one as you passed him. I gave you that pink rose, but here’s what you should know, It wasn’t just a flower; it was everything I couldn’t show. For all those nights of talking, all those feelings left unsaid, Had finally found a moment where two hearts could meet ...
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The Dominance of the Abyss

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The room was dark, a heavy velvet shroud, As I bound her wrists with lace from her bra, A silk tether, tight and cruel, a silent shroud. Her eyes were covered by my stained underwear, A blindfold that tasted of our lust and sweat, Restricting sight to heighten every sense, While she stood waiting, breathless, half undressed yet. We gripped the 1740 extra dotted condoms, The Lichi-flavored sheath concealing my fire, A slick, sweet barrier against desire, As I pressed my thick, pulsating dick against her pussy, She gasped, her boobs heaving against my chest, Her veins visible, throbbing in the pale light, As I tore the lace, breaking her resistance. I took her hard, doggy style, brutal and deep, Her ass cheeks clenching, cheeks so soft and round, I grabbed her hair, pulling her head back hard, "Take it like a whore," I growled, "You are my property now." Her moans were music to my ears, raw and wet, A symphony of submission, soft and sweet, As I thrust inside, relentl...
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Dark Ecstasy at Hotel Raj Mahal

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The neon sign outside flickered through the glass, casting shadows against the wall of Hotel Raj Mahal, where we were hiding away. The air conditioning hummed a cold, sterile melody, fighting against the heat rising between us. You stood there, bathed in blue lingerie, a contrast of cool air and burning skin. I stepped close, breathing in the scent of your anticipation, and reached for the elastic of your panties. I slid the fabric down slowly, kissing the curve of your ass, my fingers tracing the lines of your thighs. I blindfolded you with the same fabric, leaving you in total darkness, trusting me to lead the way. Then, I bound your wrists with the silk straps of your bra, tying a tight knot that left your arms dangling. Your breath hitched, a soft moan escaping your lips as you surrendered to the ropes. I reached for the foil packet, tearing it open with a sharp snap. Inside, the 1740 extra dotted condoms glinted under the lamp light. We rolled it on, the latex tight against my ski...
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Not Me, Never Me

Under the grey sky of Kolkata, by the silent rails of Prinsep Ghat, I stood not as your lover, just a witness to a love that wasn’t mine. You were crying… but not for me. Each tear you dropped, felt like concentrated H₂SO₄ on my skin not just burning, but dehydrating my existence, pulling every ounce of warmth out of my chest. I wanted to hold your hands, but they trembled for someone else. I wanted to be your home, but your heart still lived in his abandoned address. The Hooghly flowed quietly, like it knew this chemistry how something pure can still dissolve in the wrong solution. Your voice cracked his name, like a broken equilibrium, and I realized I was just a temporary reactant, never meant to be in your final product. That evening, Kolkata didn’t feel like a city it felt like a lab of pain, and I was the experiment that failed. Because loving you wasn’t just heartbreak it was corrosion. © NILOY SHOUVIC ROY
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Illusion of You

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She was nothing but a “Bhrom”, a soft, addictive “Moho” I couldn’t escape. I carried her like a silent “Neshar Bojha”, thinking she was my only “Amar Shotto”, my lost “Purnota”. But all I hold now are torn pieces—“Shritir Chera Pata”, memories that bleed every time I turn the page. I gave her my pure “60s Love”, let her live inside my endless “Oniket Prantor”. And in return—she left me with “Dhushor Somoy”, where I learned the art of “Dukkho Bilash” alone. Now I stand still in my own “Obosthan”, while she drifts away like “Onno Groher Chand”. My sky holds a “Khoye Jawa Chaad”, dim, distant, never mine again. Still, a part of me whispers—“Jodi Abar”… But the truth cuts deeper than silence— “Tumi nei” would’ve been easier, because “Tumi chilena kokhonoi” hits different… © NILOY SHOUVIC ROY
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Where the Thunder Strikes

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Forty-second floor, window walls black as pitch, Outside the storm rages, a violent bitch. Lightning cracks, illuminating our stage, On this bed of purple velvet, locked in a cage. My six-foot frame towers over your slight form, Five-foot-four of trembling flesh, safe from the storm. But not from me. Not from the hurricane in my veins, Not from the fucking punishment that reigns. The first thunderclap, a deafening roar, I grab a fistful of your hair, slam you to the floor. No, not the floor, face down on the plush bed, "Ass up, you fucking whore," is all I've said. Your cunt is dripping, soaking through your lace, A desperate, slutty puddle all over the place. I tear the panties off, they rip like cheap cloth, Expose your swollen lips, I'll have them both. My dick is iron, veined and thick with rage, Ready to defile you, turn the page. I spread your ass cheeks wide, spit right on your hole, Then plunge my cock inside, to take control. The second boom of thunder shakes...
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A River That Learned Our Names

At Howrah’s rush, beneath iron breath and steam, I saw her first—my future, clear as dream. Time froze once, then shattered in a run, I reached her breathless, two hearts beating one. Her glasses caught the station’s yellow glow, My arms found home before my mind said so. Crowds dissolved, the platform slipped away, When I hugged her like I’d waited every day. From Howrah Ghat we crossed the river wide, The ferry hummed while Kolkata sighed. I took her bag, too heavy for her frame, Gave her mine—love learns sharing before its name. I held her close the whole slow-moving ride, Cold breeze kissed us, city lights replied. My lips met her forehead, soft and still, Hands entwined—time bent to our will. The Ganga shimmered, silver, deep, and true, “I love you” floated—me to her, her to me too. She fed me momos, laughter in her eyes, Simple food, holy hands, sweetest prize. At Bagbazar Ghat, a lone lamp stood, Witness to lips that finally understood. One kiss—gentle, shaking, perfectly right,...
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