“Vasu,” said Amulu somewhat to her husband’s surprise. Hitherto she had followed the tradition of a Hindu wife not calling her husband by name. But Amulu had travelled so far away from orthodoxy that the time has come to give up these ancient practices.
“Yes Darling.”
“I feel frightened.”
“Of what?”
“About us?”
“Yes, strange things are happening. A month ago with your diamond nose rings and chignon you were a model of old fashioned Hindu womanhood. Now you look modern, young, vivacious, and with a taste for other men.”
“Funny isn’t? You have changed too, Vasu, and that is what is frightening me.”
“What change? I am not conscious of having grown horns.”
“Till now you gave the impression of being a prohit.”
“Prohit? Temple priest?” Vasu laughed. “In spite of my wearing pants and shirt?”
“Yes.”
“Without a top knot?”
“That is the funniest part Vasu. My friends say they could see a distinct top knot bobbing about even though your hair style is quite modern.”
“Your friends are a mischievous lot, but do you see one too?”
“I could also see one. It is so funny. I would be annoyed when they say that. It is gone now, Vasu.”
“The top knot?”
“Not only the top knot, but the prohit look itself. You stand taller, and there is that penetrating look in your eyes. Your eyes used to be as animated as tomatoes. Your walk, and your talk, everything has changed. You have started looking like a great personality.”
“Cuckolds are not supposed to look that way.”
“Vasu.” She was quite angry. “There will be trouble if you ever say that word again. Understand?”
“Sorry Ammu. I won’t, ever. But you said you are frightened. You should be happy to see your husband turn into a he-man.”
“The change is quite frightening. I am thinking of Jekyll and Hyde.”
“You suspect that I am now Hyde?”
“No Vasu. It appears as if strange powers have unleashed within you. Anything can happen.”
“Hope that only good things happen.”
“I do more; I pray. Don’t you feel the change too?”
“I do have a strange feeling of confidence in myself. Nothing much. But it is there.”
“Vasu. So many things are happening and so fast that I am confused and at times quite depressed. Right now I am pretty low. Cheer me up. Disrobe me and cuddle me, darling. If I am physically one with you I feel much revived.” Vasu did more than disrobe her. He disrobed too. They kissed, and hugged, and played with themselves. She lay in an inverted position on the sofa with cheek pressed against the seat and front of her abdomen resting on the backrest with pelvis on top. Vasu stood behind with his armpits on her thighs, kissing her pussy, and Amulu purred like a cat.
“When are you meeting him again?” said Vasu suddenly.
“That’s what I want to ask you,” said Amulu without missing stride. “Do you want it to be a one-off experience?”
“Not at all. You want it to continue?”
“Vasu,” said Amulu righting herself. She was kneeling on the sofa with her face almost touching his. “I look büyükesat escort on him as tenderly as I would a son I can never have. When I am with him it is a special feeling. It was more like cuddling a son. I feel as if I have known him all his life. He feels that way too. It is such a special feeling being a mother and a lover at the same time.”
“Then call him. If you feel as if he is a son then I must know him too.”
“When?”
“Now”
Amulu went to the phone and called. Soon she was back.
“He is coming within fifteen minutes.”
“Does he know I am here?”
“No, but I will keep some smelling salts ready if it is needed. But it won’t be. From the time we saw each other we are feeling as if we have known each other for years. No Vasu. He would walk in as if he belongs here.”
And so it proved.
Sundar acted as if he expected Vasu to be home.
“Come in Sunder, sit down. We are meeting again.”
“Yes uncle.”
“But I am hearing so much about you that I do not feel that way. How’s work?”
“Not much is happening in the washing machine front. Uncle, you look different today.”
“In what way.”
“I do not know how to describe it. You look different. Your eyes specially. They were quite ordinary when I saw you in the restaurant. Today it seems to bore into me.”
“Interesting. You are the second person to say that. It may interest you that my eyes failed to bore into the Income Tax people. They grilled me without mercy.”
“They have eyes only for registers. You look so different uncle that I wondered if it is you or your brother.”
“May be it is my brother.”
“I identified you by the two moles in your right temple region.”
“Quite a sharp lad you are. Any significance in these moles. Do they for example indicate that I am good at this or that?”
“I am not into that uncle.”
“During our college days these used to be a saying that if you had a mole on your penis you would be lucky with women.”
“That idea is still prevailing uncle.”
“Any truth in it?” Sundar was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Amulu came in with coffee for Sundar.
“Vasu enough of this mole thing.”
“Don’t you want me to ask him the obvious next question Ammu?”
“Most definitely not. Tell him about you experiences with the Income Tax people.” Amulu knew a thing of two about the working of her husband’s mind. He went into it in detail and Sundar listened with great interest.
“Now Sundar I have a lot of account manipulation to do. You take auntie to a movie. When you return I would be in the bedroom deep into my accounts. Please do not disturb me. You two will have to manage in the guest room. Amulu are you OK with this plan.” Sundar took the invitation of the husband to sleep with his wife as if it was a normal and natural thing to do. Amulu did not think it odd either.
“I am. I will see to making the guestroom all right.”
It was past ten when the two returned. Vasu was still busy with his books, but he could cebeci escort hear them in the dining room, and later he heard the distinct click of the bedroom door. He smiled a bemused smile. He was getting a hard-on.
Vasu was up at dawn. He had his bath and prepared coffee and was sipping coffee as he sat in the balcony reading the morning paper when the bleary eyed Sundar walked in followed by Amulu, who unlike Sundar had freshened herself.
“From your look it appears you had not more than a wink or two of sleep,” said Vasu.
“You may be right,” said Amulu.
“Sundar have your bath and coffee. I have to explain our philosophy.” Sundar moved away. He had to do a lot of freshening up before he would be ready for a lecture on philosophy. But Amulu was fussing over him as if he was her little boy, and in due course Sundar presented himself before Vasu.
“Sundar,” said Vasu, “marriage is a great institution. By marriage I mean this ‘one man, one woman that death alone can part’ concept. Death alone can part is quite all right, but one man and one woman alone is not. By the time a decade is gone the couple are bored with each other. The same faces, the same anecdotes, the same opinions, and the same disinterested, mechanical movements called sex. The headaches women suffer from at bedtime are an expression of this boredom. Amulu and myself were bored to desperation when we acquired a taste of whisky. We attend some parties. It was in one of these parties that Amulu had an encounter with a man who was very much like the man in her fantasies. She must have told you about that. I suddenly realised that man and woman in a marriage can and must have other real sexual interest. Forty or fifty years of the same thing and noting else is quite horrible. The falsehood of fantasying must go and a real person or persons take that place. Within hours of realising that I acted and that is how you are here. Our sex life is now rocketed up to unknown heights. We love and respect each other more than we ever thought we could.”
“Thanks uncle. I got an inkling of what is happening and I like it. When the time comes I am sure I would do the same.”
“But meanwhile he wants to tell you something,” said Amulu who was listening to the conversation. “Sundar says that your personality is fit for a top job and not as an accountant in a small store. He says the job of financial controller is vacant in a multinational company. He says that there is no way you can fail to grab it. You go this afternoon with Sundar and get yourself proper clothes and attend that interview. Take our car Sundar. Two-wheelers are too risky on our roads. You come and pick up uncle.”
“Yes, auntie,” said Sundar and left.
“How was it the second time,” asked Vasu.
“Wonderful, just wonderful.”
“In the movie theatre?” This question set off Amulu into a prolonged giggle.
“I always used to wonder what lovers do to each other in theatres. Now I know.” It took her some time to compose herself. “Fondling is the kolej escort main course.”
“Like this.”
“Not both. That may not be possible.
“Did he unzip?”
“He did not. I did for him. Like this. If like other couples in the theatre we had to make the most of what the theatre had to offer we would have gone further.”
“All the way?”
“Maybe not.”
They were in the bedroom. She quickly got rid of all her clothes and he followed suit.
“He is fascinated by my pussy. He made me sit with knees touching my chest and he sat in front on the carpet contemplating my pussy like a meditating rishi.”
“Like this?”
“Yes. Then he touched it. He likes to play with the inner leaf. He plays on it with his tongue as if tasting it.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, and then he would nibble.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, and then he would march his lips forward till he reaches the clip hood.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, and then with the tip of his tongue he would probe the clit.”
“Like this?”
“No, his tongue is not as pointed as yours. And then he would suck out the clit, hold it between his lips, and lick the captive.”
“Like this?”
“Oooh! Yes. I encourage him by whispering ‘my darling boy go on doing it to your mom.” When I say mom he gets all into frenzy. He licks till I have a mammoth orgasm. Yes, yes like this, Ooooo! And then he carried me to the bed and he entered me.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, and I screamed, and screamed and screamed, just like this. Did you hear my screams?” She was panting.
“I did not though my ears were flapping to catch the faintest noise.”
“We slept, and then we woke up and we did it again, and we slept, and he had almost finished when I woke up to catch the tail end of the third. Thank you Vasu for opening up my world. I pity women who are forced to be with one man all their lives. It is not just physical. It is a whole different package, physical, emotional and spiritual. For those who may scorn my saying that it is a spiritual experience I would just ask them to try it and then talk.”
They rested in each other’s arms.
Vasu got the job. The rest is history.
Not five years are past, but already Vasu is spoken of as the next CEO of the multinational. His right hand man is one Sundar whom he looks upon as a son. Sundar’s wedding to the rich and beautiful Shamim was one of the high points in the social life of the city for the year. Sundar is often seen in movie theatres watching action films with his foster mother Amulu. She, like many a modern woman, is sold out on action films, and she never tires of watching them. Her preference is for Hong Kong produced Chinese ones. But Shamim is an exception. She likes to listen to classical music, and dance, and drama. Her tastes do not match her husband’s but is in line with her foster father Vasu’s. These two are often seen in Music Academy Halls absorbed in these performances. They usually sit holding hands, and when the artists renders some raga in a particularly juicy way they look at each and shake their heads in admiration as much of the music as of each other. On days when the music had been exceptionally good they do not want to get away from each other. They spend the night together. Amulu and Sunder love to see them take the enjoyment of classical music to the logical end. They are happy to be a part of a very happy family.