Affairs to Remember Pt. 03

I am happy to present my perspective in the next few chapters. The story actually happened over three years, of which the first year and a half were quiet. We separated soon after our graduation, but we were in touch and even stayed in touch after his masters. It was our attempt to get together, but perhaps it wasn't our fate to be married.

In my version, I have included Ranjan, as without him, the story wouldn't be quite complete--both mine and Sanjays. I am glad that he didn't object to it, and the readers would surely appreciate it. Despite what it may seem, I really loved Sanjay, and I am sure he too deeply loved me. Love and sex were entirely different for me, and I was never the one to cower down to societal pressure. It's true that we have to live in this society, and hence it's better to hide things it frowns upon, but that doesn't mean we don't have to indulge in them.

My English isn't very good, so I narrated my story, and Sanjay penned it for me. We collaborated closely to ensure that it reflected my perspective and not his. Diligent readers would find subtle similarities and differences in our stories. The timelines, however, may confuse some readers, and that's because Sanjay tried to make the story more readable by compressing the timeline, but the truth is that such things don't happen that quickly. It was a rather slow journey that took ample time, as we both had to confront our own demons first before embarking on our journey together.

Before I continue with my story, let me give a brief background. I have been married for well over 20 years and have two gorgeous daughters and a boy. Just like Sanjay's, my marriage is rather vanilla, and we have done nothing besides what you would expect of a couple in an arranged marriage. I am actively involved in running my father's firm, which takes away most of my time, so it has been very difficult to find the time that other folks who do a 9-to-5 job have. And then there has been the responsibility of taking care of my three children. So, I have had little chance to fool around after my marriage, but that doesn't mean I have been faithful. My husband is not a cuckold and would divorce me if he got a hint of my promiscuity, although I often wonder if it is just the social pressure or indeed his character. Hence, I appreciate Sanjay taking all precautions in his writings, right down to choosing names, situations, and overall background. Unless the folks who have been closely involved with us in the past do so, it would be very hard for them to relate these stories to us. My husband, while not a cuckold, is still quite timid about facing the truth and, in some ways, may have even encouraged me to transgress over the years.

From a very young age, I realized I was blessed with a beautiful face, an amazing complexion, and pale white skin that was coveted by so many men and women in our society. I had big, light brown eyes and pink, pouty lips. Physically, I was ordinary, as I didn't have the classic hourglass figure, but I was well proportioned and had a rather nice bust for my age.

I was the only daughter of my parents. We lived in a joint family. My father was the eldest of three brothers, and my cousins were of a similar age and lived with us in the same building. Until recently, we used to live mostly together and have our meals together, but in the last few years, the families separated their kitchens and gave everyone a little more space. This worked out well for me, as I was entering puberty and needed more privacy.

I didn't have too many friends, as I spent most of my time with my extended family. I particularly enjoyed helping my father in his business and visited his office frequently. It wasn't very far from our home, and it became my routine to work at his office when I had nothing particular to do. Even though my grades never showed, I was unusually brilliant, and hence, with very little effort, I could get decent enough grades, which allowed me to spend time on the work I did at his place.

From an early age, I got exposed to working-class men who were not very hygienic and rarely tried to keep themselves pristine. It was strange hailing from a Brahmin family; I saw every member of my family taking particular care of their hygiene. By the time I was 15, I was used to such men ogling at me and found nothing unusual. My attire was mostly business-like, but because of my natural beauty, I could hardly escape anyone's attention. I was pretty enough to work in most of the soap operas and would put a lot of actresses to shame without having to put on any special makeup. In some sense, I looked beautiful in traditional attire and had more of a traditional look. Western clothes, as long as they were simple, looked good on me, but not otherwise. So, the attraction of these men wasn't all that surprising.

Initially, it never bothered me, but after puberty at 15, my body started changing, and because of the hormones, I could feel my vagina moisten when someone checked me out. It took a while for me to understand this, but it puzzled me, and I only learned what the source of my surprise was when a very close friend of mine noticed I was sexually excited when a middle-aged man, perhaps in his late 40s or early 50s, was checking me out. He was extremely dark and a complete outsider when compared to our family, both in terms of looks and social background. My flushed face left no doubt in her mind, and since she was a few years older, she understood what was going on. She called it out, and I felt embarrassed, but over the next several weeks and months, I realized she was indeed right.

Around that time, I came into close contact with a doctor, with whom I connected and who perhaps helped me understand these things a lot better. As I approached my 18th year, my hormones were in overdrive, and what appealed to me was crystal clear, and I no longer had any difficulty accepting and articulating it. There were some men who always worked me up by simply ogling at me, and I had no difficulty understanding that latent desire. I became more confident in acknowledging my own desires and no longer felt embarrassed about them. The doctor I connected with supported and validated my emotions, helping me understand that it was perfectly natural to feel attracted to certain individuals. I learned to embrace my sexuality and accept that my desires were a normal part of growing up and exploring my identity. While some men's ogling made me uncomfortable, I now saw it as a reflection of my own latent desires that were worth exploring rather than feeling ashamed of.

My doctor noticed my pussy lips flaring, and she asked me if I was sexually active. It seemed like an odd question, and the obvious answer to such a question was, of course, no. Instead of judging or frowning at me, she explained to me that it was normal, and even though society frowned on such sexual escapades before marriage or even after marriage, it was normal to have an urge to sexually mate with someone. She advised me to follow my cycle, be careful around my fertile time, and definitely insist on a condom, as it was common to get STDs if one engaged in frequent unprotected sex. She also told me she can prescribe pills if they help, but her suggestion was to be very careful who I indulged and always use protection.

As I gained confidence, I eventually asked her, "अग मधूनमधून माझी पुच्ची खूप ओली होते." "Now and then my pussy gets soaked."

She had talked to me about such things and used colloquial language that made me comfortable with her. She was older than me by about 13 years, but she looked quite young for her age. It wasn't jarring for either of us as we used these words. We only spoke about such things in low voices or whispered to each other, as she often had a lot of patients visiting.

"मग काय तयार ​​आहेस की तू अता; मुलांन कडून झवून घेण्यास," she replied, giggling. "Why not? You are ready to get fucked by boys now."

"कल्पना हळु बोल, बाहेर माझी आजी आहे. हे ऐकून तिला हृदयविकाराचा झटका येईल," I blurted. "Quiet Kalpana. My grandmother is sitting outside. She will have a heart attack upon hearing it."

"तस पहाता मी खुप वर्षा आधीच तयार होते," I continued. "पण अलीकडे कधी कधी, काही पुरुषांना पाहून माझी पुच्ची खुपच ओली होते." "That way, I have been ready for a while now. But now, upon seeing some men, my pussy becomes soaked."

"पोरांना पाहून की पुरुषांना? पोरांना पाहून की पुरुषांना?" she asked, looking me directly in the eye. "Is it after watching boys or men?"

"पुरुषांना," I meekly admitted. "Men."

Her lips curled into a mischievous smile, and she asked, "पुरुषांना? साधारण किती वयाच्या पुरुषांना पाहून?" "Men ha? How old are these men?"

"चाळिशी पन्नाशी च्या पुरुषांना ते सुद्धा कामगार वर्गातल्या पुरुषांना पाहून," I admitted without flinching. "Maybe in their forties or fifties, and that too, working-class men."

She smiled and said, "हो का? बर आहे की. थोडासा गंभीर आणि मोठा विषय आहे; आपण निवांत बोलु." "Oh really? That's great. It's a little serious and a longer topic. Let's chat when we have some time."

It was perhaps the beginning of my slutty journey. I was coming to terms with my bodily needs and started accepting what my body yearned for. To a certain extent, because of her friendship and the ease with which she spoke about such sexual topics, I could speak about taboo topics openly and even embrace some of my own fetishes.

As promised, she invited me over to her place for dinner and to spend a night at her place. She had become a family friend, so it was easy to stay at her place without raising eyebrows. After dinner, she expounded on the subject and helped me understand what my body was telling me. She explained how embracing one's own desires and fantasies can be a liberating experience, as long as it is done with consent and respect. She emphasized the importance of self-acceptance and being unapologetic about one's own sexual preferences. Through her guidance and non-judgmental nature, I felt empowered to explore my own fetishes and fantasies, understanding that it was a natural part of my sexuality. Her willingness to share her knowledge and experiences created a safe and supportive space for me to openly embrace my desires without shame.

That was the night she told me her entire life story and how her husband's uncle mounted her a year after her marriage and impregnated her with five children. She, too, had gone through similar emotions, and because of her scheming mother-in-law's moves, she could live a sexually fulfilled life. It was well understood that when her husband's uncle was in the house, only he could mount her, and her husband only licked her out. It all made my head spin, but she offered damning proof in terms of some audio recordings and even some sordid pictures that apparently they got developed abroad because of the conservative nature of our society.

Looking at her children, I could tell that her husband wasn't the father, as they were all a couple of shades darker than both her husband and her. She had no regrets, was thrilled with her sex life, and was happy that her husband was so docile in the sex department. Despite the shocking revelations, I couldn't help but admire her bravery in sharing such intimate details with me. As she spoke, it became clear that her unconventional relationship had brought her immense satisfaction and fulfillment. Her happiness stemmed from having a partner who embraced her desires and allowed her the freedom to explore her sexuality. I couldn't help but wonder how many others in our seemingly conservative society secretly yearned for such acceptance and liberation.

It was natural for any woman to be attracted to such alphamales, and to moisten most women's pussy at least when they do come in close contact with such men. Societal norms, however, have stigmatized extramarital affairs, and hence women don't even dare to respond to or act on their innermost desires. Only women born with an exceptionally strong libido respond with their lust-filled gazes and convey their desire to mate with such men. Such women's pussies fully lubricate as if the body were preparing for an impending intercourse.

The fact that the person belonged to entirely different strata, or more appropriately, lower strata, of society only meant that perhaps I found those differences exciting. She claimed plenty of fair women are attracted to dark men and that there was nothing abnormal about it. Alpha males are self-serving but still pay a lot of attention to the needs of a young and beautiful woman. My pale white complexion and youthful body were a powerful magnet for such alpha males. The dark-skinned ones were the most brazen and perhaps persistent; for their Dravidian dicks, I looked like a perfect Aryan beauty to fuck and breed.

Understanding such things at a very young age is quite challenging, but having such an education paves the path for an interesting and sex-filled youth, for sure. I didn't believe that men over the age of 40 could actually sexually perform, as I had seen that the sex life of my parents and even my relatives were practically nonexistent. Even though parents don't think that their children understand what goes behind closed doors, they are quite astute and can sense when fireworks are in order and when they are silent. As I grew older, my curiosity about sexuality only intensified. I became determined to explore and understand the depths of human desire, especially as it related to older men. Contrary to conventional wisdom, I had witnessed in my family that men over 40 not only performed sexually but did so with a fervor and passion that ignited a flame within me.

We were Chitpavan Brahmins, but in the last two generations, we have moved onto other kinds of businesses. Everyone in my family was exceptionally fair, and we all seemed to be quite healthy and not as obese as in the age we lived in, where luxuries were quite rare. It always surprised me how fair and different we were compared to some folks in our building. And then the folks who frequented my father's office were of an entirely different stratum.

Kalpana explained that my attraction to such men meant I was sexually submissive and enjoyed the thought of getting exploited by the folks from the lowest strata of our society. Older men were confident and more stable in the way they approached women, and this clearly didn't go unnoticed by me. It was this confident demeanor and the sheer audacity with which they ogled that made me wonder what would actually happen if they grabbed me and mounted me right there. She told me I would have the most intense orgasms with men in the 40s and 50s as they took time to warm up, something a submissive woman appreciates as she has to put in an effort to work them up. They also take longer to ejaculate as age is not on their side, and finally, they are quite assertive and demand a lot of sex from their women. However, as intriguing as her claims were, I couldn't help but feel a mix of fascination and apprehension. While I admired her unwavering confidence and the alluring prospect of intense pleasure, I also had reservations about her assumptions. Nevertheless, her bold words stirred something within me, igniting a curiosity that I knew I couldn't easily dismiss.

As all of this happened, I was indeed facing a strange quandary on a personal front. In every family, there is a family, and in my family, it was my paternal aunt's husband. He was not from our community and didn't look like us much, either. It was not clear to me earlier on, but women from our families seem to have a soft corner for him. He stood 6' 1" tall, had a good build, and was fairly dark-skinned. He had three children, and the youngest was about 5 years older. The elder two were already married.

As I entered puberty, there were several boys and men who showed a lot of interest in me, but only he took the initiative and started touching me inappropriately. I tried to keep my distance from him, but he always made his intentions clear. Our conversations would have a subtle undercurrent of sex, and it became rather normal after some time. He didn't really do much more than just grab my butt or my breast, but I knew that given the right opportunity, he could hit a home run.

They lived in our native place and managed our ancestral farms. We had a pretty big mango plantation, as the Konkan area is well known for mangoes. Every summer we got several boxes of mangoes from our farms, and almost every summer we would spend a couple of weeks at our native place. We were a big family, and our ancestral house was big and could easily accommodate all of us, at least for a couple of weeks. It would be like a festive time for all of us, as we all stayed together as one family. I was the eldest of all my cousins, and the others were much younger. By the time I was 12 years old, I was getting a drift of some things happening in my family.

The days were filled with fun, but the nights were filled with the cousins and brothers playing cards and consuming alcohol. Some of our uncles ate meat, but they never cooked it at the house. Alcohol and cigarettes were things no one could say no to. In a week, at least 3--4 nights were spent in merriment, as they were all very hardworking people otherwise; this holiday was the primary way they relaxed.

On my father's side, there were 4 brothers, but the first 3 elder brothers stayed together while the youngest stayed away and only met us occasionally. They had one sister who was younger than my father by two years, and she was married to this uncle. Uncle was the eldest in our family and perhaps 50 years old at the time of this incident. I was 12 years old.

My uncle had served in the military and was quite fit and athletic. He would work on the fields regularly and make sure that our agricultural business ran smoothly. He drank alcohol, but in very limited proportions, and games, in those card games, he would be the only one in full control while the others would soon get drunk and pass out. They were also particular in arranging the beds in the main living room to not disturb the women.

Later in the story, I would describe it, but in short, I saw my uncle make out with my mother. Having seen it once, I became alert and caught them several more times. In fact, he fucked all three women from our family. A few years later, he actually tried to fuck me as I slept in my aunt's bed one day. Everyone believed perhaps he mistook me for his wife, but it clearly was more than that.

I knew the readers were expecting something more exciting, and it was indeed more exciting, but it's better told in later chapters.

Chapter 9: Mayuri meets Kishore Bhai

My sexual experience with my uncle happened the year I met Sanjay. It took little for me to get attracted to Sanjay's innocence and gullible nature. He was a brilliant boy, well known for his excellence in studies but even more so for his hard work and sincerity. At heart, he was an amiable boy, kind-hearted, warm, and passionate about his goals and future. I wasn't sure if I wanted to marry him at the outset, but over the next several months, I developed the chemistry and confidence that he was the right person for me.

Out of the blue, he introduced me to Mamta, his friend from the building. I was stunned by her beauty and could have never imagined him making friends with such a beautiful girl. Here I was thinking it was only me who, out of sympathy, perhaps started chatting with him. It definitely broke my reverie. Mamta clarified he was her brother, but I knew they were very close and were close friends and not really siblings, as she claimed. Not that I was jealous or minded, but in some sense, my respect for him went up a notch upon learning this.

And then came the time to meet his mother and his lecherous neighbor, as Sanjay often referred to him. I saw the spark in his eyes the moment he saw me. His eyes lit up after learning that I was an excellent friend of Sanjay's, which meant that we were going steady. My experience with my uncle had given me an ample introduction to such men, and I realized that Kishore bhai was an alpha male and had taken notice of me. He reminded me of the men who frequented our office, belonging to the lowest strata of society but aspiring to bed Brahmin women. He was dark, fat, short, and ugly-looking, but my pussy lips twitched as I realized he was interested in me. Men have always been attracted to me, and there were very few exceptions, if any, but in this case, the chasm was so great that one could only wonder where his audacity was stemming from. I couldn't ignore that unmistakable aura he exuded, as if he could seduce a woman who was his daughter's age and as beautiful as a movie actress or a model. It was this aura that piqued my interest.