Affairs to Remember Pt. 02

एवढयातच त्या कुशीवर तू असा वळलास का रे

अजुनही विझल्या न गगनी तारकांच्या दीपमाला

अजुन मी विझले कुठे रे, हाय तू विझलास का रे."

It's a beautiful composition sung by Asha Bhosale, where a wife is narrating her desire to mate with her husband and persuading him in some manner. Mayuri had studied classical music as a child and could sing in tune, so she sang it so perfectly with a mischievous tone in her voice. Of course, she was alluding to the fact that her thirst was yet to be quenched, but I had already spilled my semen.

She then let it go, and we moved onto other topics, and after another half-hour, our attention drifted back to sex again. She looked into my eyes and offered her lips, and we kissed once again. It was so intense that I wanted to devour her at that moment, and she too was ready for it. I pushed myself between her legs and made her straddle my lap and lean back against the wall. After some intense kissing, I noticed that my penis wasn't even half-up. That's when she whispered, "तुझ्या इंजिनला रिचार्ज व्हायला अजून वेळ आहे. एवढ्यात खूप कमी लोकांचा रिचार्ज होतो." "There is still time for your engine to be recharged. Very few people can recover in half an hour."

It felt so insulting, since I didn't think that Mayuri would be so upfront about my inadequacies. Now, she didn't say it to insult me. As I said earlier, she was a practical woman and didn't fuss too much with formalities. She wasn't judging me, but only telling me the truth.

We separated and tidied up our clothes. "आणि बायकांचा इंजिन गरम व्हायला वेळ लागतो. थोडा सबुरीने घ्यावा आणि मग चढाई करावी," she added in her patented chaste Marathi that had a slight nasal tinge to it. "Women take time to warm up. You should be patient, and only when she is ready should you mount her," she said.

"वाईट वाटून घेऊ नकोस," she consoled me. "तुला अनुभव नाही, म्हणून तुला सांगते आहे." "Don't feel bad. You are not experienced; hence, I am guiding you."

I wondered if she was experienced, but I didn't think so. She was certainly knowledgeable, and that was because she had a lot of cousins, and they were all in similar age groups, so these discussions were common between them.

"तुझा शेजारी अजुन जागा आहे. त्याला क्रीम केक भरवायचा का?" she said, looking down. "It seems your neighbor is awake. Should we feed him your creamy birthday cake?" she asked. We lived on the topmost floor, so we could see that his door was open and the TV was on.

"तू वेडी आहेस का?" I asked. She tidied her clothes and, from her purse, pulled out a small mirror and checked herself. I didn't know how to react to her behavior. She said, "त्याला नाही रे तो केक भरवत. पण तुझा वाढदिवस आहे; मग त्याचा तोंड गोड नको का करायला?"

She rummaged through her purse, pulled out a piece of chewing gum, and popped it in. While we spoke about a lot of things, there were still things I hesitated to talk about, and that's because I didn't want to feel ashamed by learning that my girlfriend would do certain things for him but not for me. As you may have guessed, she was the decision-maker in our relationship and did most things as per her wishes. I spoke very little, and even then, I thought a lot before saying anything on such controversial topics.

Mayuri was clearly on a mission and carefully prepared herself for any rendezvous with him. Even her remark about sweetening his mouth was essentially a double entendre. It took me a while, but she was slowly making me realize I was indeed a cuckold and truly desired such things.

"अग मयुरी तू हें काय करते आहेस?" she asked. After preparing herself, she thought for a moment, looked at me long enough, and said, "संजय मला वाटतय तू बरोबर असलास तर तो नक्की काही तरी करेल." "I have a feeling that he would try something if you were around."

"म्हणजे?" I asked, stunned by how openly she simply said it. "Means?"

"तुला कळत आहे सार. उगाच नखरे नको करूस," she said. "Don't pretend. I know you understand everything."

She felt my pecker, and sure enough, it was hard like rock, even though it refused to wake up only a few minutes ago. It was utterly humiliating as she smirked at me and descended the stairs.

She walked into his room with the cake in her hand. "किशोर भाई, आज संजय का जन्मदिन हैं।" "Kishore bhai, it's Sanjay's birthday today."

Just then, the lights went out; it was almost as if it was some sort of ominous sign. Kishore bhai wished me and was reaching out for the cake when she took it away from him and said, "एक मिनट किशोर भाई। संजय को क्रीम बहुत पसंद हैं। मैं आपको छोटा सा टुकड़ा देती हूं।" "Wait a minute, Kishore bhai. Sanjay likes cream a lot. Let me find a small piece of cake for you."

"अरे पर मयूरी मुझे भी क्रीम पसंद हैं," he countered. "But Mayuri, I too like cream."

As expected, he didn't even care to pay much attention to me; his focus was on her and the cake.

"नहीं किशोर भाई," she retorted. "आपकी सेहत के लिए बिलकुल ठीक नहीं हैं। अभी और वज़न कम करना हैं आपको।" "No, Kishore bhai. This is not good for your health. And you still need to lose more weight."

"तू काय बोलते आहेस?" I interrupted her as Kishore bhai went to the kitchen to get a candle. "मला क्रीम आवडतो?" "What were you saying? I like cream?"

She gave my bulge a squeeze and whispered, "हो ना तेच तर् म्हणत होते. तुला क्रीम आवडतो। चव घेवुन खात होतास, नाही का?" "Yes, that's what I was saying. You like cream. Weren't you enjoying it half an hour ago?"

Kishore bhai walked in and lit a small candle in front of us, and she gave me her sensual smile and blew a kiss. Kishore bhai, who had lit a small candle by now, saw me do that and said, "क्या हुआ?" "What happened?"

"कुछ नहीं किशोर भाई," she replied. "मैने ऐसा कहा तो संजय बुरा मानगया। संजय जैसे जवान लड़कों के लिए ये क्रीम ठीक हैं। मगर आप जैसे बुजुर्ग मर्दो के लिए नहीं।" "Nothing, Kishore bhai. Sanjay got upset that I told you the truth. Cream is good for young boys like Sanjay. But for elderly men like you, it is no good."

Mayuri was pushing all the buttons, and hearing her explicitly refer to me as a boy and him as a man and say that only I deserved to eat such cream and not him was utterly humiliating. I don't believe he really understood what was going on, but Mayuri was making it clear to me that in her mind I was just a boy, but he was a real man. And eating semen suited my character and not his.

"आतून सुरी आण," she softly ordered me. "Get a knife from inside."

I took the candlestick, walked inside, and looked for the knife. I was quite agitated and wondered what was happening behind my back. The kitchen was quite sparse, as expected, and it took me some time to find the knife. When I returned, they both weren't in the room. I called for Mayuri, and she stepped into the room, with Kishore bhai behind her. I didn't understand what happened, but I was a little nervous and upset, so I didn't pay much attention to it.

"क्या उमर हैं तुम्हारी?" He asked as I laid down the knife on the table. "How old are you?"

"उन्नीस," I replied. "Nineteen."

"You are a man now," he said in English. Mayuri chided, "हां उमर से हैं पर... थोड़ा और वक्त हैं शायद।" "Yes, at least age-wise, he is a man, but... it will take more time, perhaps."

As usual, they both laughed at my expense. Mayuri carefully cut the cake, and I was surprised that she chose the exact opposite part of the cake that we eat. It looked rather odd since we had only eaten a portion of the cake and the cream was evenly spread all over the cake. She took a small piece and fed it to him. That lecherous bastard didn't eat the entire thing and fed a portion of it back to her. I noticed how he practically stuffed it into her mouth; his fingers were longer than usual and perhaps even touched her lips.

Just as usual, they both sat in the love seat while I sat on the side sofa, and we all chatted for a little while. Obviously, Kishore bhai's attention was more on her than on me. After a few minutes, Mayuri suggested we should leave since it was getting late. I carried the cake and kept it in our room while they continued to chat. I didn't hurry back and tried to watch them, but it was dangerous as they were sitting right opposite the door and Mayuri was looking in my direction. I was pretty sure I saw his hand on her thigh and him talking to her in hush tones. I mindlessly stepped into the room, and Mayuri quickly got up and left with me.

Mayuri was staying the night at a family friend's place in the neighboring building. That was the reason her parents allowed us to join them for late-night studying. As we descended the steps and finally came to the first floor, which was the most deserted section, she hugged me from behind and felt my bulge. "तुला खरच वाटल केक मधे क्रीम होता?" "You really thought that cake had your cream?"

"म्हणजे?" "What do you mean?"

"त्याच्या एका कंडोम मधून निघेल त्या आख्खा केकचा क्रीम," she whispered into my ear. "आणि ते सुद्धा पौष्टिक आणि जाड अस." "From his one condom, one could get enough cream to cover that entire cake--rich, nutritious, and thick cream."

Mayuri was inebriated with lust and surely she was besotted by him now. Still, I wanted to understand where her longing or lust was stemming from; it in some ways helped me understand my psyche and sometimes even validate my cuckold tendencies.

"तुला का वाटत माझ्या सारक्या पोरांनी तसे क्रीम खाव?" I asked. "Why do you think boys like me should eat such cream?"

"अरे नाही. मी गंमत करत होते. आणी तुझ काही फारसा क्रीम नाही, आणी त्यातून अगदी एखादी थेंब सांडली असेल त्यात," she quickly consoled. "No Sanjay. I was just kidding. Besides, you don't have that much cream, and only a few drops of that fell on the cake."

"शिवाय तसले क्रीम खाणे त्याच्‍या सारख्या रेड्याला तरी नक्की शोभत नाही." she added. "Besides, it doesn't suit a breeding bull like him to taste such cream. Such breeding bulls are meant to only generate a lot of such cream and deliver it to the right place."

Mayuri was definitely pushing the buttons, but she was also playing it cautiously. Even in my wildest imagination, I didn't think she was speaking so vulgarly until then.

It was a rather adventurous night, and I ruminated over what had transpired. It was a relief that Mayuri was not a coy girl, but I was afraid that she was rather too adventurous for my taste. The fact that I couldn't control my ejaculation bothered me. I remembered that with Lalita, I hadn't been disappointed. She very much liked it with me and was looking forward to another such opportunity. With Mamta, it was tricky, and I knew that my feelings always strongly influenced our sex. The entire birthday episode cleared a lot of things for me, and it was only a matter of him driving the final nail in the coffin.

Chapter 6: Showdown

Mayuri's diet regime for him had certainly made a lot of difference. Those things that had started almost a year ago were entirely between them. Our relationship had become a triangular relationship with each vertex connected to the other, but clearly the bond between Kishore bhai and Mayuri that started as a dotted line had become a solid, thick line now, perhaps even thicker than our own line. It seemed as if she was my girlfriend in college, but at home she was his. The way my body reacted when she was with him left no doubt that I was excited by the thought of him taking advantage of my girlfriend.

Mayuri had begun her yoga practice around that time, and the benefits of it were showing as tight curves, a taut belly, and shapely calves. Now, she was not only beautiful but also had a splendid figure to go with it.

As these thoughts went through my mind, I realized that neither his pungent body odor nor his morning breath mattered to her. Despite all of his shortcomings, she seemed quite eager to be presentable in front of him. It was a slow but clear evolution that left a mark on my mind.

Diwali came soon after that, and Mayuri invited me to her place and introduced me to her family. There were a lot of disapproving looks, but they tried to be nice and didn't make me any more uncomfortable than I already was. I met her father that day too; he was busy with his work as usual. My visit to her place was a little early in the day and uneventful. She introduced me as a friend, but in those days, that was enough, given all the context, to realize who I was.

We had some discussions on how common such relationships were, and she didn't mince words and told me that even in her own family, she noticed a few things that were not as they seemed. She showed me pictures of her aunt and her lover, and the contrast between the two was quite stark. And then there was her sister-in-law and her ex-boyfriend, who seemed to have continued their relationship over the years. Mayuri was, in a way, telling me it's not as uncommon as I thought. Of course, few know about it, but then again, quite a few know about it; otherwise, why would we know about it?

Later in the evening, she joined me, dressed immaculately in a Nauvari (nine-yard) saree. Nauvari sarees were the traditional attire of Maharashtrians and also some people from South India. She wore a traditional nose ring, earrings with a pendant, and a delicate necklace. There was no makeup on her face, as was common for her, and even then, she looked stunningly gorgeous. She took the blessings from my mother and joined our festivities.

"खुप सुंदर दिसतेस मयुरी," I whispered to her. "You are looking beautiful, Mayuri."

She smiled and took my compliment and the compliments of the other people in our chawl with grace. Kishore bhai was roaming around and returned after fifteen minutes. I saw his stunned face as he saw her on the patio. I was inside our room and saw them from our window. Since the light was turned off in the main room, he didn't notice that I was inside. I saw my loving girlfriend blush as soon as he said, "सुंदर," i.e., "Beautiful."

He stepped towards her and looked at her intently, and then, laying a hand on her naked back, he led her inside his room. I felt the same gut-wrenching pain in my stomach, but I stumbled to the door and heard them.

"तुम इन वस्त्र में तो और भी खूबसूरत लग रही हो," he said. "You look even more beautiful in these clothes."

He took out a few 100-rupee notes and performed the traditional ritual of casting off the evil eye before offering her the money. They were just off the main door, so all I had to do was peep inside. It was a precarious thing to do, but I could not resist myself. As she was about to take the money, he said, "हमारे में इसे मुँह दिखाई कहते हैं।" "In our customs, this is called Mooh Dikhai."

It is actually a custom when a bride is greeted by the elders of the husband's family. They lift the veil to see the bride's face and, in return, shower her with gifts. She took it from his hand.

"इतना ही?" she replied. "इतने सुंदर मुखड़े को देखने की मुँह दिखाई में तो हजार बनता हैं।" "Only a few hundred rupees? To see such a beautiful face, at least a thousand rupees is a must."

"ये भी ठीक हैं," he said, pulling a wad of notes from his pocket and attempting to stuff them into her saree, touching her naked waist in the process. "That makes sense."

Mayuri reacted a little late and took it from his hand, but not before he touched her belly. My penis was literally shivering with my impending orgasm. I can't explain how outraged and sexually excited I felt watching this happen.

I barged in and pretended to act normal, but clearly he didn't like it. But not reacting rudely, he ordered, "अरे संजय, जो तुम्हारी मां को मैने कुछ पेपर दिए थे। वो ज़रा ले के तो आना?" "Listen, Sanjay. I had given some papers to your mother. Can you get those?"

"मयूरी जरा पानी तो लाना," he asked her as well. "Can you bring me some water?" he asked, directing her to his kitchen rather than our room. Mayuri was only about to exit his room along with me, but he had other intentions. I felt the same pangs as I stepped out of his room and checked on my mother, who was busy in the kitchen, and I scurried back to my original position.

"अरे मयूरी, एक काम करो ठंडा दूध ले आओ। थोड़ी ऐसिडिटी हो गई हैं," he hollered to her from where he was standing. "Mayuri, why don't you get me some cold milk? I have some acidity."

He had pulled in the door a little to have more privacy but didn't close it--to avoid scaring her off or perhaps avoid a scandal altogether.

Unfortunately, my mother called me out for some help in the kitchen, and I couldn't eavesdrop on them at that moment. Mayuri explained what happened to me a few months later.

Mayuri scurried with the glass of milk that he had asked for. He took the glass from her hand while holding her hand in his other hand and put it down on the table. "अभी ठीक लग रहा हैं?" he said. "Now it seems perfect."

"क्या?" she asked. "What?"

"दूध का गिलास देते हुई वधु," he added. "A bride with a glass of milk in her hand."

This is an Indian custom--on the first night after the wedding, the bride offers her husband a glass of fortified milk. The milk, of course, was meant to boost the virility of the husband in anticipation of what was about to happen.

She blushed and tried to free her hand. "आप भी ना किशोर भाई। मैं आपकी बेटी की उमर की हूं।" "Kishore bhai, I am about your daughter's age."

He drew her closer and, leaning forward, whispered to her, "सुंदर लड़कियों को मैं बेटी नहीं मां बनाता हूं!" "I make mothers out of beautiful women, not daughters."

It was such an outrageous remark, and I was stunned that Mayuri was enduring it all. She finally freed herself and said, "आप फिर शुरू हो गए? मैने कहा ना आपसे। मैं एक लड़की हूं और नहीं। तो जरा दायरे में रहिए आप।" "You are so incorrigible. You started again? I told you that I am still a girl, not a woman, so observe the decorum of this relationship."

"लड़कियों को औरत बनाना भी तो मेरा हुनर ​​हैं," he added, stepping closer to her. "Making women of girls is my talent."

Mayuri was now both blushing and smiling. It was clear that he was brazenly seducing her. "सुना मैने। आपके हुनर ​​और कामों के बारे में। खुद की बढ़ाई तो कोई आपसे करना सिखे। कुछ सच हो तो बोलीये," She mockingly replied, "I have heard about your talents and achievements. No one brags better than you. If there is any truth, then please share that."

Mayuri stepped closer to the door and opened it. Just then, he called for her, "सुनो." "Listen." She had opened the door, but then again she quickly closed it, putting it back in its original position and stepping towards him.

"तुम्हारे ज़ेवर तो देखू। बहुत सुंदर हैं," he said. "Let me check your jewels, at least. They are beautiful."

Mayuri's child-like excitement returned, and she gingerly stepped closer to him and showed her hand filled with bangles. They were filled with green bangles and a couple of gold bangles. There were two thick kadas (or thick bangles) that were ornately carved and studded with various stones. She then showed him her earrings, which had a dangling pendant (Jhumka) that is worn by women in traditional attire.

"समझ नहीं आ रहा हैं। तुम्हारी सुंदरता से ये ज़ेवर निखर रहे हैं या इन ज़ेवरों से तुम्हारी सुंदरता?" He asked innocently. "I can't tell if it's your beauty that is adorning these jewels or the other way around."

"आपको पता हैं। बात करना तो कोई आपसे सिखे," she retorted. "You know it. You can charm anyone with your words."

This is when I was able to regain my original position and peep in on them again.

He then inspected her nose ring, which he seemed to be quite drawn to. "ये नथ तो बहुत ज्यादा सुंदर हैं।" "This nose ring is beautiful." "हमारे में अलग टाइप का होता है," he added. "In our tradition, the nose rings are much different."

"मयूरी," he said, looking at her. "मैं तुम्हारी नथ उतारना चाहता हूं।" "I would like to remove the nose ring of yours."

"क्यो?" came her innocent reply. "Why?"

Clearly, she hadn't understood what he said to her. I still cherish watching his dismayed face. "आपको देखना हैं? बहुत मुश्किल से डाला हैं। बाद में दिखाती हूं।" "You want to check it out? I will take it off later and show it to you."