Shame

The affair continued for many months. They spent some weekends at a hill resort near Bombay and also at a hotel on the beach where they locked themselves into their room and had prolonged sex. Madhavi knew that though she loved the sex with him, she felt nothing more for him than affection.

Their time together decreased after his wife gave birth and returned home a few weeks later from her mother's place with the infant. It was impossible to meet as frequently. Madhavi soon became restless and started thinking of taking another lover.

Her next lover was the son of a major client of the firm. Madhavi was part of the team that was involved in some on-site work for the client. The particular project was being handled by the client's CEO's son. He was 25 or so and much younger than her but very sexy with a good body. They went out to a lunch party in a big group and she sat next to him. When he pressed his leg against hers and put her hand on her thigh she did not move away. He got bolder and later asked her out on a dinner date. She agreed. He picked her up from her house in his car and they went out to a fancy restaurant. She enjoyed the evening. He was good company, cheerful and intelligent and a good conversationalist. On the way back he took a detour by a lonely road along the seashore and then parked the car in a small lane leading to the beach. She did not resist when he put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She allowed him to kiss her and then to slip his hand into her shirt and fondled her breasts. In a short while, they were fucking in the back seat of the car. It was the first time she had done it in a car and she found it very exciting and erotic. She remembered quite clearly how, sitting in the back seat, she had bent over and given him a long blowjob. They had sex with her on top and she was pleased to find that he had a strong body and a large penis. The sex was excellent and then they laughed together recalling how the car squeaked with the bouncing caused by their motions.

For some time Madhavi continued to see both lovers and kept each one in the dark about the other.

The dual life was thrilling for her. In any case, her boss wasn't able to spend much time with her because of his wife and kids, so there wasn't much tension to trouble her. Both affairs cooled off on their own, and now Madhavi didn't mind very much.

She had convinced herself that what she wanted was sexual pleasure and not a lasting relationship.

That made things easier for her in many ways. Over the next several months, she took a succession of lovers. There was a young apprentice from the firm with whom she enjoyed passionate sex for a while, and, later, a teenager from the building across the yard. Basically, all she wanted was a warm, hard body to satisfy her physically. She enjoyed and even hankered for the hot, hard, thrusting heat of a man in her flesh, his hard hands on her soft, smooth flesh. All that changed, she said, when she met me in the chat rooms. Very soon after we met, she had begun yearning for something more. She had never felt lonelier in her life, she said. Till tonight.

IV

IT WAS WELL PAST MIDNIGHT when she finished. I couldn't understand why she had told me all this and I asked her gently. She sighed and slowly moved away from me and got up. She opened her shirt and let it fall to her feet. Naked, she went out on to the balcony, and put out her hand behind her without looking back, signalling to me. She looked incredibly sexy framed against the dark sky. The wind ruffled her dark hair. I got up and dropped my underpants and went to join her, my cock already hardening just looking at her. When I came up to her, she took my cock in her hand and leaned back against my chest, closing her eyes. I caressed her breasts gently. They became tight and heavy and her nipples grew hard.

"I like having sex out in the open air," she said to me.

For some time we remained in that position while she jerked me off slowly. Then she turned around and without a word went down on her knees in front of me and slowly took my cock in her mouth. It was sexy to be sucked off in the open air. Now I knew where she had gained experience in cock- sucking and sex. But right then I didn't concern myself with all that but only enjoyed the feeling of her tongue and mouth on my cock. When I looked down I saw that she was fondling her breasts slowly, lifting and squeezing them and pulling her long nipples. I grew more excited.

After some time she stood up and again turned her back to me and, leaning on the balcony railing, pushed her buttocks at me and spread her legs wide open.

"Come on. Take me," she said softly.

I wanted to taste her juicy pussy and I kneeled behind her and pushed my face up between her thighs.

I heard her moaning and she moved her hand down her belly, spreading her cunt-lips open for my tongue. I pushed it in deep, tasting the aromatic nectar of her cunt. Her legs trembled and she gasped and her moans became louder. I pushed one finger into her cunt, right up to the knuckle and her body became stiff and she grabbed my wrist, keeping my finger inside her. Her moans became louder.

"Quickly! Now! Fuck me!" she gasped.

I got up and stood behind her, pushing my cock between her legs. She was ready for me, wet and open and my cock went in smoothly, all the way. She flung her head back and I leaned forward to kiss her hard, squeezing her breasts in both hands. Her hands were tight on the railing and her cunt was squeezing my cock. I started fucking her, holding her waist and moving my hips back and forth, pushing my cock in and out of her cunt. Madhavi gasped and moaned in excitement and begged me to fuck her harder. Her words aroused and excited me and I responded in kind.

She began to orgasm and I moved even faster and harder, ramming my cock deep into her cunt, making her cry out. My hands crushed her breasts. I let her orgasm pass and continued stroking in and out of her but held back. I wanted to enjoy her still.

All that she had told me started forming images in my head and, despite the fact that it was a story of sorrow and shame, I began to feel aroused. In my mind's eye, I saw her having sex with different men, even strangers, more than one man at a time. I saw her body writhing and twisting between their bodies and her face twisting in excitement and arousal. I imagined the sight of seeing her suck one man while another took her from behind in her cunt or even in her asshole. I did not know if she had tried that. But now the thoughts and my imagination excited me tremendously.

She somehow sensed my mood and tension and when I slid my cock out of her, she turned around and pressed her body against mine.

"What do you want?" she whispered to me. "Tell me what you want."

And then I saw the tears shining in her eyes.

An icy hand gripped my heart and I lost my arousal.

"Nothing," I stammered in shock. "I want nothing from you, Madhavi. Nothing at all. Truly."

"Are you sure?" she said in a trembling voice. "You can have me again in any way you like. I don't mind. Go ahead ... take me as you want."

"No," I said and kissed her gently, caressing her. "I don't want to take anything from you, Madhavi.

Not now. Not ever."

She bowed her head against my chest and I could feel her tears on my skin. Her voice was soft and muffled when she spoke.

"So many," she said. "There were so many. And they just took and took and took from me. And I gave them what they wanted but they never stopped to think about me. They all thought I wanted what they wanted. But it was never like that. Yet they all did. All of them. Took me as they liked, when they liked, as often as they liked. It is almost all the love I have ever known. Why should I expect you would be any different?"

Now her tears were a flood and her body was shaking with her sobs. I held her close to me, soothing her, stroking her hair, pressing my lips to her head, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. I only knew what I was beginning to feel, and I had no words to say it yet. So I just held her, close till, gradually, she calmed down.

We stood for a long while in the balcony, in the cool night, silent together. At last she stepped away from me. I watched as she pulled off her hair clip, held it between her lips, shook her hair, tilted her head back, pulled her hair back, gave it a little twist and then fastened the clip again.

"You must be hungry," she said softly, rising on her toes and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Come, I'll make some sandwiches or something."

She started to go past me but I stopped her and turned her around and pulled her close to me and kissed her, gently but deeply. She returned the embrace without hesitation. This time there was no lust but there was much desire, much longing, and, above all, deep tenderness.

"Let me do it," I said. "I'm quite good in the kitchen."

Madhavi looked up and her eyes sparkled in that infectious smile. "Not just in the kitchen, apparently."

I grinned. "You go on in. I'll make something."

"Will you find what you need?"

"I'm good at exploring."

She giggled. "So it seems."

I slapped her gently on her naked butt and she turned and went into the bedroom. I watched her go, heard her go into the bathroom and heard the shower running. For a minute I stood in the balcony, looking out at the darkness, trying to sort out my emotions and feelings. No other woman I had been with before had made me feel like this. It wasn't pity. She didn't pity herself and didn't ask for it from me, neither pity nor even sympathy. It was a totally different feeling. My image and impressions of her had changed, too. Now she seemed frighteningly lonely. But there was something else also. It was as if she felt ashamed.

She had nothing to be ashamed of, as far as I could make out. She had done no wrong. Yet it seemed as if her heart and soul had been torn out, ripped up and destroyed by other men, leaving an empty shell deep within. She was trying, I felt, to fill that void. Slowly, she was coming to terms with herself and her terrible past. She had allowed others, as she said, to take from her. Now she needed to be the recipient, to have someone else give as she had given. She had chosen me, or maybe I had let myself be chosen. Whatever it was, I knew only a feeling of warmth and a deep joy like I had never felt before.

In the hall, I turned on her stereo system and selected a disc, some gentle instrumental easy listening. Humming to the tune, I went into the kitchen and started poking around.

I was in luck. I found almost everything I needed. I've lived alone for so long that rustling up something quick and tasty has never been a problem for me. I found fresh crusty bread, some mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic, a small bottle of olive oil and, best of all, fresh basil. I chopped up the garlic. I set a large, deep pan on the burner, threw in a generous wad of butter and began to sauté the garlic. When it was done, I put in the washed, sliced mushrooms, covered the pan and let it simmer. Meanwhile, I diced three large tomatoes and washed, cut the basil fine, sliced the bread loaf and lightly toasted them in the pop-up toaster. After a while, the mushrooms were soft and had released their water. I tossed in the basil and stirred the pan till the basil was nicely mixed up.

I emptied the pan into a large glass bowl, tossed in the diced tomatoes, drizzled it with olive oil, a squeeze of fresh lime, a little salt and pepper and mixed it up. I set the bowl in a tray with two smaller bowls and forks, buttered the toasted bread, arranged the slices on a play on the tray and brought it out.

Madhavi came out of the shower into the hall. Her hair was wrapped up in a thick white towel but she was otherwise nude.

"Oh my, that smells wonderful!" she said as I put the tray on the dining table.

"So do you," I laughed. "Tell you what. You eat the salad, I eat you. Deal?"

"You're a sex maniac," she laughed. "No deal. We both eat."

She loved my little warm salad. We ate together and after we were done, I cleared the table. She told me to leave the dishes; the part-time servant would clean them the next day. I rinsed them nonetheless and stacked them neatly in the sink. I went back into the bedroom.

She was lying in bed with the covers up. I slid in beside her and she immediately turned to me, came into my arms. I kissed her and rolled her on her back. Her eyes were dark and somber.

"You asked me why I told you all that about myself," she said.

I kissed her and stopped her from saying any more. "I don't need an answer to that any more," I said. "I know."

"I know you know," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Don't say that."

"It's been a long time since I had anyone to say that to," she said. "It feels right."

"That's the best part, isn't it?" I smiled. "How it all feels right? I mean, all of this, every minute?"

"No," she said quietly. "What feels right is that till last evening, I didn't know you and you didn't know me. It feels right that I was right in feeling I could trust you. It's been really long since I felt like that about anyone."

I had nothing to say to that and she didn't expect an answer. She moved under me, and her lips were soft and open under mine and her hand was between my legs.

For the first time that night, we made love. We didn't just fuck, we actually made love. It was intense, long and deeply satisfying. Our orgasms were explosive and sharp and she clung to me as I took her again and again and again, making her gasp and moan in unashamed joy.

V

WE ARE STILL TOGETHER, SHE AND I. We live together now, though we're not married and have no plans to be. We've kept her house, too, and sometimes we stay over there for a weekend. We go to movies and dinners and plays and parties together and everyone thinks of us as a couple now. We enjoy each other's company. The sex is great and we've experimented, found new things. I enjoy watching her masturbate, and she likes doing it. I confessed to her that I was aroused by the idea of watching her have sex with another man and we experimented with group sex, swapping and voyeurism a few times. But those were just idle fancies, to satisfy our lust of the moment. Invariably, we wind up with each other, enjoying our nights together. It doesn't get better than this.

There has been some loose talk at her office, but she doesn't let that bother her. She has told her parents and family that she is seeing me. I have met her family. I could sense the resistance, but her father put up a brave front and, after a while, he relaxed and we got along famously. They're really very fine people. Sometimes it seems like I speak to her father and brother more than she does. No one asks us about marriage any longer, at least not seriously.

"He has promised to marry me when I am 65," she teased her mother once and everyone laughed, even her father and brother.

A few months ago, her father was in town on work. He stayed with us as he always does now and anyway my place is larger and more convenient for his business. Late one evening, we went out for a walk, just he and I. Madhavi shooed us out of the kitchen where we were generally making an infernal nuisance of ourselves.

"Promise me one thing," her father said to me after a bit.

"Certainly, sir. Anything." I replied.

"Promise me that you will look after my daughter always. I am not asking you to marry her. Just to please look after her."

"Sir, you do not need to ask that from me."

"But I do ask it. She has known too much unhappiness in her life."

"Yes. She has. But that is in the past. It's over. And I would rather die than add to what she has already suffered."

Her father stopped and looked at me. "Does it trouble you? Upset you? Knowing all that happened with her, all that she did?"

"No, sir, it does not," I said quietly. "It never has, not from the first day she told me, and she told me on the first day."

"That is all I needed to hear," he said. "Thank you."

"Sir?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"You just said 'all that she did'. With respect, sir, that is totally and utterly wrong and I beg you never to say that to me again. Whatdid she do? She certainly did no wrong. She didnothing wrong. She was the wronged person. Let me also tell you, sir, that if I felt like that, we would not be together and you would not be here, because then my being with her would come from pity or sympathy. What Madhavi and I share is not pity. It is a friendship, trust and respect. That is our understanding of love, both hers and mine. It is something she may have had once, but which she lost. I hope she has found it again with me. Certainly, I have found it with her. Quite simply, sir, she is my life. Without her, I have nothing and I am nothing. That is what she means to me. And so I do not think there is anything she 'did' in that sense. She did nothing shameful. She hasnothing to be ashamed of."

We were standing by the sea and the air was still and warm. There was a full moon out and in its pale light, I saw tears shining on the old man's cheeks and felt my heart breaking and put my arm around his shoulders.

"Forgive me, son," he said softly. "Forgive me. You're right. My daughter has nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all."

******

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Glossary of Indian (Hindi) words used in this story:

Sari : Indian garment; six or nine yards (yes, yards) of fabric wound around the waist, one end then draped over the upper body.

Churidar : lower garment, like leggings or harem-pants, cut close down the calves and ankles.

Kurta : upper garment, like a long gown, usually calf-length.

This story was originally published under the pseudonym Philogyst.

A first draft was reviewed and later drafts edited by the late Mary J Gandmar, whose erotic writing inspired the story, and to whose memory this story is dedicated.

Comments are, of course, welcome.

This story is copyright Mix O'Scopist, 2001-2005. Please do not republish, repost, transmit or distribute without permission (which will be readily granted, without fee, but only on condition that the authorship is acknowledged and credit lines and copyright notices, including this one, are retained intact).

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