The Cake-Shop and the Zoo-Woman

The Cake-Shop and the Zoo-Woman

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Yes, the most beautiful, the most attractive, the epitome of elegance, the definition of sexy. The red velvet cover on it made it sleek, and the creamy dollop on the top suited it like none other. The macaroon on which the cream dollop was put was shouting out loud for people to stop staring at it. The red sheet of jelly which covered the lustrous body of the richly decorated cake was doing its job perfectly – attracting oodles of ogles with orgasmic sighs.

She was sure that having the cake would be nothing short of an achievement to be boasted. And she wanted to boast, it had been a long time. Yes, I will invite all of them over. They will die after seeing this.

And then her body turned into a zoo. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, with increasing numbers as she continued to admire the cake. Canaries started chirping their melodious songs in her ears, singing of the glorious time she’ll have while satisfying her desires. The ferocious lioness in her heart rose, and growled so loud that her fellow customers could almost hear it. But before she could roar again, Nita got in control of the animals lurking inside.

She went over to the counter to ask for the cake. But then, destiny has its own ways. The cake had been made to order, and was only put up for display till the rightful owner came and took it away. When Nita asked them to bake for her the same cake they showed her the sign put up on the front door.

“No new cake orders for another week. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

When Nita asked the reason the manager of the shop stepped in and explained to her that their head chef had been called away by some urgent events, and so they wouldn’t be taking any new orders till he came back.

They are strange creatures, women. Nita felt the warm tears in her eyes, and her throat choked up. She started breathing heavily, moving away from the counter towards the case where the sexy killer was put up for display. She stood there looking at the cake with the hungry eyes of a tigress, and at the same time with an affection of a mother. Her cheeks were wet with the salty waters of her blue ponds, and she found it a herculean task to remove herself away from that exotic display.

It was when she was caressing the cake, her hands on the glass that separated the two, and fantasizing about it when she felt two warm eyes dug deep into her. She turned around to confirm the rightness of her intuitions, and found a creature of the same species but opposite sex looking into her. He was tall, six feet, and wore a suit that could light a thousand men’s heart aflame. She looked down at his shoes; they were shiny black, like a moonlit sky without the moon. She noticed his spectacles; rectangular rounded off at the edges, half-rimmed, silvery, and expensive. Finally, she looked at the face of the man who had passed every test with the best possible grades. And then, she died.

At least she thought she would. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Yes, the most beautiful, the most attractive, the epitome of elegance, the definition of sexy. Beneath those brilliant spectacles were eyes even more brilliant – Black, as dark as a night can be. His was the most expressive face-cut she had seen in person, apart from Brad Pitt in the movies. A precise jaw, the bones just announced their presence – nevertoo visible and never hiding and lips so smooth and thin, they seemed more like crispy potato wafers. She thought she had fallen in love. She loved wafers.

She was sure that having him with her would be nothing short of an achievement to be boasted. And she wanted to boast, it had been a long time. Yes, I will invite all of them over. They will die after seeing him.

All the animals returned again. The butterflies were greater resounding than ever, and the canaries almost led her to heavens. The lioness in her heart roared again, and with such a force that Nita found herself speaking.


The man looked at the woman. She was attractive, definitely. And she was young, no, promisingly young. She also had the eyes which had always bowled him over. In fact, it was the eyes that he was longing to see. He had been watching her for the last hundred seconds, and believe it – whenyou gawk at a stranger even a hundred seconds seem like a hundred years. Everything about her had been impeccable – the way she dressed, a jeans – not too tight, not too airy, just the perfect match for her figure, and a white sleeveless top –with the right depth, and cuts; the way she stood – never leaning too much, or standing too erect to make her bones crack; and the way her hair spread themselves over her shoulders, making beautiful, rhythmic waves.

If anything was missing, it was the colour of her eyes. The man knew it was totally essential. He loved blue eyes, and he wanted to love this young woman in front of him. It was essentially essential that she had blue eyes. And when she turned around with her watery blue eyes, he was more relieved on seeing the colour of the eyes than concerned over the presence of water in them. She was perfect.

“Hey,” he said.

As it often happens in cases of love-at-first-sight, the two forgot that they had tongues and set of teeth which enabled them to speak. The air suddenly smelt sweeter to Nita along with a heaviness that gripped her mind. She found herself searching her mind for words of the language that she had spoken for twenty-five years. And when “voice” fails the body responds automatically in order to continue conversation. Her face distorted in a clumsy smile, and she pulled her eyebrows tilting her neck and then words poured out like flash floods.


The man was in no better a situation, but this unexpected error from her side gave him a chance to get a grip on his throat. “I am sorry, I didn’t get you.”

Nita laughed forcefully, trying to disguise her embarrassment.
“I think I am blocking your view,” she said, pointing towards the forgotten “hottie”, as she moved away from the case where the cake was kept.

The man was quick in replying, “That’s no problem. The cake is mine anyway.”

Nita looked at him with an exclamatory mark all over her face, then smiled and laughed mildly, shook a little with joy and said, “Oh! Nice… nice cake by… by the way.”

The man smiled in return, nodding his head. He noticed that she was about to move away so he decided to go for the subtle chance he had.
“It’s my birthday today,” he said, “and I specially love cakes.”

Instead of wishing him a happy birthday Nita found an ‘oh’ escaping her lips. But before she could correct herself or apologize, the man spoke again.

“I was planning on spending it alone, but it would definitely be great to have some company.”

Nita’s heart jumped. She muttered a ‘yes’ to herself, and then to him as he eventually asked her to join him for a celebration.

The canaries chirped in the loudest possible tone for the two of them as they left the shop, carrying the cake with them. Their hearts fluttered in anticipation of the unknown, and Nita found herself humming songs, something she hadn’t done since her teens. The day was certainly getting better for her, in all respects. They headed for his car when suddenly the man spoke again, bringing her back from dreams.

“By the way, my name is Leon.”
“And I am a lioness… I mean… Nita.”

Picture Courtesy: The Pleasure Monger


2 responses to “The Cake-Shop and the Zoo-Woman

  1. ok mr ranjan u r an unrealistic write, how can someone own the cake and find another cake by its virtue…!!! its ur worst piece ever too fantastic too unreal…it can’t be true infact it shouldn’t be true…

    • now please explain what u mean to say… i read your comment too many times, still can’t decipher its true nature! 😉

Say Something About This Post

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s