18+ Please
My spelling and grammar isn’t that well.
Let me know if you want a part 2

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India 1967

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Hi, my name is Abhinav. I lived in a small town in Karanja, just below the newly developed city of Bombay. Sadly, I lived alone in my parents old home, as they both passed away due to disease and sickness. It was very hard to start a family, and I couldn’t risk giving up my emotions for a certain girl,for now anyways. I guess I liked the single lifestyle, not having to worry about people.

I bought a small shop in the city and got myself a job as manager. I was the only employee however which was a drag. I started off with nothing to work with, only some donated food from the town which I decided to sell in my shop. Of course, that didn’t make me any fucking money. “Stupid asshole, why the fuck did I buy this friggin place?”

But marvelously, my friend told me a trick in order to get my shop up and running. Every Saturday, I would go with my friend inside a small truck to the North-Boat Docks where the U.S would be sending in shipments to India containing foods, medicine, etc. There were lots of small and large crates which the community was to help bring into the city. I would help steal crates that were being brought into from the U.S full of foods. I would get a small share of food which I would put into my store, and sell for a low cost. Once a few residents of the small town came and saw the prices at my shop, they became interested and I began to make money from when I bought the store. The prices I had were really cheap, so I raised it so that I got paid more, and I didn’t have to go every week stealing crates, we might get caught stealing so I had to keep the prices to fair.

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“Namaste.” I said to Verti as she brought a few cans of beans to the cashier desk at the front for purchase. Everything was going like usual, customers here and there, mostly females, but some males. Nothing new, nothing old, until…

“That would be 50 Rupees.” I said to Verti. She placed the money on the counter and began to put the canned beans into a box to carry home. She turned around, about to leave, but suddenly turned back towards me.

“Um, just a curious question. Um, my friend was looking for something called condoms.” Verti said. “Like, do you happen to have them for sale?”

“No I don’t, but if I see them, I’ll pick em out for you. I wonder how they taste…?” I said. Verti smiled and left my shop.

That Saturday when we went to “help” move crates, I talked to my friend Agash.
“Hey Agash, do some of these crates have something called condoms?” I asked. He gave me a weird look when I asked this.

“Only a few crates have them, the U.S are sending only a few at a time, and you’ll be lucky to get the one with those.” Agash said. He then began talking again with a smile on his face, “Why would you need condoms, you’re fucking single.?”

“Wait, what’s a condom?” I asked.

“It’s some rubber that you put on your private part, it will prevent pregnancy if worn right, I think.” He said laughing like a crazy Indian man.