The air of India, that indescribable desire for balance. I was working in Varanasi. By day, I was the chief commercial officer of a firecracker factory; by night, I gave massages to tourists at Man Mandir Ghat. I had a YouTube channel where I uploaded videos of my massages. I had a decent number of followers — enough that some Westerners would specifically asked for me. One evening she arrived. She wasn't Tanya, unfortunately, but she looked a lot like her: same eye shape, same figure, same hair color. Fire into fire. When I started rubbing her back, I felt something. Call it what you will, it was definitely something that couldn't be ignored. She felt it too, so she turned her head to meet my gaze. As she did so, she slightly raised her torso and I glimpsed her breast. Fire into fire.
