Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
A few moments passed, and I began the awkward process of helping her off the table.
My member slipped from her lips and she automatically clinched herself in response, seemingly missing my presence.
She smiled again, and this time I saw it.
I grinned back.
She was more propped by me than anything, and I helped her over to the living room, where we both collapsed onto the sofa.
I kissed her softly but repeatedly at her cheek and lips, and she managed a few kisses in return.
Arundhatī Joshī and I didn’t really talk.
We just quietly recovered together.
Eventually, she told me she had to go on to bed.
We both climbed the stairs together.
At the top of the stairs, we faced each other.
It was dark.
It was quiet.
I brought her into my arms, and we embraced.
I could feel her exhale completely in my arms and press into me.
She could feel my strong arms wrap and cuddle her.
She eased back from me.
She had to go to her bedroom.
I looked down at her, and her face started to mine.
Our lips met and neither held back.
We kissed deeply.
When we finally parted, we both smiled to one another.
We said goodnight.*
Arundhatī Joshī awoke groggily.
She struggled to orient, as she could sense something was happening to her.
She started understanding there was a rocking motion in the bed.
Even though at first she was dazed, she realized there was movement at her vagina.
She felt sex there.
Was she dreaming?
She almost spoke my name, but she then gathered that she was in her own bed and in her room.
She searched for her bearings.
As she thought and looked around, it hit her.
She was on her side and the pushing was coming from behind her.
It was Vinod Sharmā.
It was Saturday morning, and Vinod Sharmā had entered her and was having sex with her.
Arundhatī Joshī fought the initial impulse to stop him.
Then, she worried inwardly for a response.
She was shocked and just speechless.
As she started to speak over her shoulder to Vinod Sharmā, she heard him grunt heavily.
He stiffened and she knew instantly what this meant.
He climaxed intensely.
He had gotten off strongly, she concluded.
But, she found herself much less than thrilled.
Right away, she felt guilty knowing why she wasn’t thrilled.
First, it was because it had mostly happened unbeknownst to her.
Mostly though, there was a guilt.
It wasn’t I there with her, nor the excitement she felt for me.
Vinod Sharmā stroked at her hair.
“Wow. That was great.”
She didn’t move or speak.
His voice had been shaky before.
Vinod Sharmā caught his breath and tried to compose himself better.
He had not acted as he intended.
He awoke with an erection, and he immediately had become concerned about keeping it.
It wasn’t her fault, but he simply did not feel the attraction or desire that he once had for her years ago.
He had felt to her first, thinking he’d stimulate her awake, and then he had touched wetness at her lips.
He had thought her already aroused.
When he had put himself to her to rub her, he had pushed on into her and started.
“I got carried away.” He tried to explain.
She just nodded back without words spoken.
Vinod Sharmā cuddled her, and he brushed at her hair.
“You are a beautiful and special woman.” he resolved to make things better even if it meant getting some kind of prescription. “I may not always show it, but I do appreciate you.”
Arundhatī Joshī was absolutely stunned.
She reached a hand over her shoulder to him and squeezed at him.
He started breathing heavier and in moments he was snoring.
Arundhatī Joshī‘s mind started reeling.
As much as she hated to think it, she knew she wished he hadn’t said those things.
Could he sense she was drifting away from him?
Is this why on this morning, of all times, he had decided to share like that with her.
He never did that.
When she was sure he was sleeping again, she slipped from the bed.
She went downstairs to make coffee, have a cup and clear her head.
What a weekend.
In a hungover and emotional fog, Arundhatī Joshī rummaged about in the kitchen, made coffee and sat down with a cup.
It was hard to know where to begin with sorting this out.
A couple of things she was certain about.
First, she was crazy and stupid to permit what had happened with me.
There was no understating just how wrong and unintelligent her choices had been.
But just as clear to her was how she felt.
She felt deeply and convincingly emotional for me and excited by me.
Any number of thoughts, from Friday night’s party to Saturday morning to Saturday night, showed her how much she cared about me.
As she sat there, she knew she felt such a love for me.
She squeezed her eyes and released them at her next thought, as she regretted just how truly she also felt about me as a man.
From her looking to me when we kissed Friday night to when she first surrendered to me in bed Saturday morning, there was no denying that she thought of me now as a man.
And, as so very wrong as it was, she thought of me as a lover.
I had brought feelings and sensations from within her she could not ever having remembered felt.
I aroused her, thrilled her, and consumed her.
Our time together and the way I had been with her had combined to make her feel something she had never felt to this extent.
The feeling included intense desire.
I made her feel that she wanted me badly and needed me.
And not just emotionally, but she needed to feel me physically and to make love to me.
Arundhatī Joshī felt at her core a need to give herself to me.
She had not ever felt this way.
She briefly wondered whether she didn’t need to just break away from both of the men in the house and try to ascertain her thoughts more objectively.
The things she was thinking were so unusual and extraordinary that perhaps she just needed time.
She smirked wondering if she even wanted to be away from me in order to decide.
Arundhatī Joshī looked up startled from her thoughts, seeing me pop into the kitchen.
She beamed when she saw how very happy I was to see her there.
She couldn’t help but show how happy she was to see me too.
“Good morning,” she said it in a low full voice.
Her face glowed.
I came straight up to where she was sitting, and I bent to where I could hug her.
I kissed her deeply and passionately.
After some passionate deep kissing, she pulled back.
“Wait, wait.” She stopped me.
I was standing next to where she was seated and I was very aroused.
I started dragging at my shorts, and she gave quick shakes of her head, indicating ‘no’.
It didn’t slow me in the least.
My hand drew my penis from my shorts in front of her face, and when she realized just what I was doing, she visibly tightened.
“Wait Durgesh, I don’t know. We should talk.”
I figured she was just acting coy, much like the night before.
I held my thick Bachhalyā erection in her face.
“No, not right now, Durgesh,” she said it pleadingly, conveying perhaps that the choice was mine.
I grinned down at her, and she gave me a torn look back.
She dropped her view to my hand.
I was fully engorged and there at her face.
There was a wanton aspect of it being right in front of her like that.
I edged my fist just a bit up and then just barely back, and she watched intently.
Her face didn’t move to avoid me, but her eyes looked back to me questioningly.
“Aw, c’mon.” My tone made her seem unfair. “Are you serious? Are you going to leave me this way?”
My hand tilted her face to me and I bent and kissed her again.
She watched my face as I stood back straight, and I told her,
I brought my cock in my hand and I put it to her lips.
Once more she tried to pull back, but I cradled her cheek and lodged its Bachhalyā thickness at her Joshī Brāhmañ lips. … She opened her beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth to me while looking in my Bachhalyā male eyes.
She reluctantly started to suck on me and move her head.
She felt my combined hardness and smoothness, and she started to react between her legs.
After a few more moments, the dynamic shifted.
It went from my urging to instead her moving her mouth on me.
Her head swayed and her mouth and lips massaged at my thick Bachhalyā cock.
We both knew she was getting more into it.
Much more into it.
‘How can I be this excited again? Is this really because of me?’ She asked herself as she felt both our urgency.
Soon I was groaning continuously, and she was humming.
Naughtily, Arundhatī Joshī anticipated what it’d feel like when I started releasing into her mouth.
She drifted a hand between her legs and started feverishly stroking there.
“WHAT?” The word is screamed and Arundhatī Joshī cannot understand at first what has happened.
She saw Vinod Sharmā standing with his face flushed and eyes wide.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” “WH… .”
She yanked her head back and I started frantically trying to pull my shorts up.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I was desperately saying to Vinod Sharmā, and everything seemed to slow down to Arundhatī Joshī as it unfolded.
It was almost as if she were witnessing something she was not actually present at.
The sequence was deliberate and surreal.
Vinod Sharmā grabbed his head with both hands and screamed.
He looked over to the counter where the kitchen knives were at, and then looked straight at me.
I shouted, “No, no, no,” as Vinod Sharmā started lunging to where the knives were.
Suddenly, I moved toward the counter, too.
Before I can take a second step though, I froze in place.
My stopping in place riveted Arundhatī Joshī‘s attention back to Vinod Sharmā.
Vinod Sharmā had reached the counter, but unnaturally he ricocheted off the counter and collapsed to the floor.
When he laid out on the floor, he was staring straight up and he was clutching the left side of his chest.
He coughed and choked, and just as suddenly as he had started, hd completely stopped.
Then, he lay there motionless.
“CALL 911! CALL 911!” Arundhatī Joshī heard me shouting it, but she couldn’t move.
She saw his eyes, and she knew he was gone.
She also knew she would never, ever get that sight of him, and what she had caused, out of her mind.
The next several days blurred by, and she could barely function, rarely talked, and just felt deadened to an extent.
The authorities did inquire, and she told the truth.
Of course, it all made sense.
She and Vinod Sharmā had had sex earlier that morning, and they had drank most of the weekend.
She didn’t see it coming, and she absolutely couldn’t believe he died of a massive heart attack on their kitchen floor.
Everyone felt sympathy for her.
Everyone saw that she was beside herself, apparently from such grief.
She had told the truth alright, but she didn’t tell the whole truth.
There was nothing asked about she and me.
There was nothing to ask since everyone knew we were friends, and both had suddenly lost Vinod Sharmā.
So, there was no mention made of the fact that Vinod Sharmā had heard strange sounds coming from the kitchen that morning.
It was never told how he hurried down the stairs, already concerned as he feared someone must have been hurt from the kind of sounds he was hearing.
He had rushed into the doorway of the kitchen, and it had been as if he had struck a horrible wall that stopped him in his tracks.
There he saw his wife and me.
At first, I looked like I wasn’t the matter, because I was standing straight and seemed animated.
Everything changed when he focused to where his wife was seated at our kitchen table.
She was sitting facing our table and angled to where Vinod Sharmā was standing, but Arundhatī Joshī‘s shoulders and face was turned to her left side.
Her right hand appeared to be in her lap, and her right hand was clasping at something.
Positioned very close to her left side was my torso and waist.
Vinod Sharmā had fixed his attention to his beautiful wife’s face.
Her mouth was open and her lips wrapped a thick and erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund that was pumping urgently between her Joshī Brāhmañ lips.
One look was all it took to show Arundhatī Joshī was moving her face towards me as fervently as my hips were bucking into her face.
Her expression was one of exquisite pleasure.
There was an onslaught of friends and family around in the days between Vinod Sharmā’s death and his funeral.
Everyone was very supportive.
The entire time passed as a flash to Arundhatī Joshī.
Then, just as suddenly as the friends and family had gathered, it seemed they quickly dispersed.
By the time of the evening after Vinod Sharmā’s funeral, the house had cleared out.
The house was still and quiet, and Arundhatī Joshī and I decided we had to go have dinner to decompress.
Arundhatī Joshī did most of the talking.
She spoke in a detached and halting manner, as if trying to explain to herself and to me.
I heard beneath her words a desperate coping of sorts.
“It was a lapse to be sure, a horrible and terrible lapse, but a lapse.” She had sounded scared but also as if warming to her justification as well.
She sat close to me and spoke quietly.
“No one meant for him to die. …”
I considered whether maybe it was just a way for her to carry on.
I tried my best to assure her.
Neither of us had wanted this or even imagined this.
It was a horrible, horrible accident.
That night after dinner, we returned home, and we both decided to turn in early.
We found ourselves standing upstairs in the hallway awkwardly starting to say goodnight.
She looked at me directly and asked evenly,
“Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”
I looked a little surprised and even tentative.
“Um, I don’t know. Are you sure?”
She gave a couple of quick nods of her head.
And with that, I ambled into her bedroom with her.
I felt an unsteadiness with the day that we had endured.
I saw her go into the bathroom, and I decided I’d just be present and go with however she felt.
I stripped to my boxers and I climbed into the bed.
I was lying there, bare chested and sitting propped up somewhat when she came out of the bathroom.
She saw me there in bed, and she stopped.
We looked at each other, and I wondered whether maybe I had misunderstood and somehow shouldn’t be there after all.
I found myself very concerned.
“Uh, is this okay?” My voice sounded very worried and doubtful, and Arundhatī Joshī relaxed her face into a smile.
She moved slowly to the bed in a night shirt that covered almost to her knees.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” She ran a hand through her hair, and she got into bed and to my surprise she curled up next to me.
“I am so glad you are here. I need you tonight.”
I kissed the top of her head which she had put at my chest, and I stroked at her hair.
“I’m glad you want me here.”
“Listen, I know this is weird. It is.” She moved a hand to my chest and her fingers drew circles on my bare flesh there. “But I want you to understand. I’m feeling so very fragile right now, you know?”
“Yeah, sure.” My voice was low.
“I’m sure you are too.” She kept her fingers at my skin.
“Yeah, I am. I guess I’m still numb.”
“Me too. Very.” She sounded like she was about to cry as she squeezed out her next words. “I just hope you don’t hate me.”
I immediately reached to her face and opened it to me.
She had lines of tears that had started and the eyes of someone utterly unguarded.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I consoled in as calming a voice as I could muster, “don’t even think that. Not for a second. I wouldn’t ever hate you. I couldn’t ever hate you.”
I went to her face and kissed her fully.
I pulled her into a hug to my chest.
She hugged me back.
We kept our embrace and she eased back with me as my torso had to go back for support, our position at first too strained to keep.
We ended up with her half over onto me.
She put a hand on my chest and looked into my eyes.
“I love you, Durgesh.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“I love you, too.”
When I said it, her face perked and I saw her eyes dart about my face, but mostly at my eyes and mouth.
She drew a breath and then she leaned to me, kissing me gently but fully on my lips.
I kissed back, but when she didn’t pull away, I was a little surprised that she was being affectionate this way.
I was awestruck when she used her lips to open mine, and she moved her tongue to mine.
She kissed me passionately, and it was completely unexpected by me.
The feel of her lips and tongue, together with her increasing movements at my mouth, stirred me against all better judgment.
I just couldn’t help it.
As we continued kissing, she shifted to try to get better positioned atop me, and when her leg moved over my waist, she felt a certain, unmistakable hardness.
She broke our kiss, but didn’t move far from my face with hers.
She continued her leg on over me, but rather than just lay against me, she moved her entire body astride me.
She stared into my face as I watched her lower to my waist.
I tried hard not to react when I felt her at my skin.
Because she was sitting higher up on me from our kissing, her crotch met my skin at my stomach.
It was obvious by the feel of her that she wasn’t wearing anything under the night shirt.
She shifted just a bit, and then I felt the slightly prickly stick of pubic hair and the unique slickness of her natural moisture.
She moved her hips barely, and I wondered if it was intended to make sure I felt her dampness.
She seemed to watch for a reaction from me, but I didn’t reveal one.
“I am feeling so raw right now.” She said it in a loud whisper and it sounded dramatic.
Her feet seemed to tuck closer to my sides where she was straddling me, and she raised herself on her arms that went to each side of my head.
She closed her eyes briefly and then half opened them.
“Is it okay if I tell you I need you right now?” She still whispered.
I nodded slowly and noticed her full lips staying parted.
Her half closed eyes and slightly opened lips finally conveyed to me that she was actually very aroused.
She may have meant emotionally she needed me, but it didn’t seem like that was all, I now understood.
I reached up to her arms and I moved them to my chest, where each of her hands came to rest up on my skin.
She closed her eyes again and I watched her gulp.
She opened them to see my eyes as she shifted her weight onto her left hand at my chest.
She lifted the right hand and she brought it down our bodies between us.
When her hand reached my boxers and deftly entered inside, my face no longer stayed expressionless.
I furrowed my brow and gave a wince, as she took me engorged into the opening between us.
She opened her mouth wide as if to react with me and she made the slightest of grins, knowing she had affected me so.
Then, she looked at me intently as she said more.
“Two things.” She breathed the words.
My reply was fast. “Yes!”
She stared deep into me and spoke her request slowly and seriously. “I want you inside me, and… I want you to keep your eyes with mine. Okay?”
She backed downward toward me, and we kept fixed on one another.
She held me steady between us as she placed her hips where she wanted them.
When my head mashed to her lips, we both shook.
“AH!” I exclaimed as I felt her rotate her hips.
Our eyes stayed, and there was an intensity to it that surprised me and excited me, seeing her every reaction and expression.
Poised there, she surprised me yet again when she reached to her shirt and shed it off herself, exposing her breasts and hardened nipples to me.
My hands immediately went to them and clutched them, as I watched her own eyes almost close shut with the sensation of my hands squeezing and manipulating her full bare flesh.
I still marveled at her large, thick nipples, but I felt them and rubbed them rather than look to them.
When she started moving again, her face changed expression from a stillness to more and more emotion and contortion, as she was forcing herself down on me.
She fought to keep her eyes to mine, and I saw how she showed the change she felt as I went deeper into her.
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ as she wiggled herself and pushed.
I struggled to keep my eyes on hers, as she rested her weight on her hands on my chest but moved her hips more and more.
She was getting more used to me, and it enabled her to get more into it.
She was raising and lowering herself, and each time her face reacted in some way to the sensations inside her.
She squatted more onto me and her head tilted back somewhat, but her eyes stayed level with mine.
Her eye brows arched and her face expressed what looked like pain when she went even further down on me.
She felt a plunging of me into her that filled her fully.
“UUUUNNNNNGHHHHHHH! Ungh, ungh, ungh!” She was loud with her grunting coming from within her throat.
I started to buck with my hips but didn’t.
I wanted to see what she would do on her own.
“C’mon,” I urged her on.
She made an inner squealing-kind of sound at my prompting her like I was, and I grinned at her.
She drew her lips together, batted her eyes and then sucked in a breath, as she appeared to ready herself for different motion.
I kept her full breasts in my hands and squeezed up, mashing them to her and evoking a pant from her.
She brought her head just down and looked at me as if she were boiling, and I felt her hips jerk.
I grunted my own reaction when I felt her beginning a back and forth sway with her hips.
The feeling was so different and unexpected that I arched my back and wondered if I’d explode just from that.
She saw she had affected me strongly and it incited her.
She furrowed her brow, grew intense with her stare to me, and she picked up her pace.
I was astonished.
She was working her hips back and forth with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund buried deeply in her, and she was panting with her effort.
Arundhatī Joshī was riding me.
Her hips bucked at me hungrily.
I moaned at her exertion.
My getting overwhelmed thrilled her, and she tried to go even harder on me.
We were both getting louder with throaty noises back and forth.
There was no doubt to either of us now that she was full on fucking me.
She kept her pace, but she eased backward some, giving herself more of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund inside her, and this was all it took.
Her Joshī Brāhmañ thrusts on me and her willingness to sit down on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund while she was riding me together shoved me over the edge.
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” I screamed and shook with an orgasm that washed over me with repeated contractions. “Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK me, Arundhatī Joshī!!!”
As my face looked frantic and delirious to her with my extended climax, she felt herself succumb and come with as much intensity as she could ever remember having had before.
Her mouth fell open, and her bottom lip quivered, as she felt my kicking and releasing together with her own spasms deep within her.
We both panted and tried to catch our breath.
She eased forward and lower upon me, softly collapsing, and as she did, her full breasts met my still heaving chest and pressed me.
She brought her lips to mine, and we again kissed for a while.
Soon, her head rested at my chest, and we both lay spent.
Arundhatī Joshī was still straddling me, and I was still halfway enmeshed into her.
“That was unreal.” My voice was low and disbelieving. “You were so… good.”
“I loved it.”
She traced a finger around one of my nipples as she pondered a moment.
Then, she moved her head a bit to see me as she said softly her thought.
I grinned back.
“I will fuck you whenever you want, Durgesh.”
I grinned even more and kissed at the top of her head.
She put her head back to my chest.
“I mean it.”
We stayed in a heap for several more moments before we finally thought to move again.
I had to go to the bathroom, and we very carefully disengaged from one another.
She watched me get out of bed, and as I walked towards the bathroom, she couldn’t resist staring at me.
Even flaccid, I hung down between my legs heavily, and it swayed with my steps.
I turned back and caught her looking, and she smiled sheepishly.
When she turned onto her back, her thighs rubbed, and the clear sensation of wetness was coated where both of our juices had gone onto her thighs.
She self-consciously reached there, and she felt about.
She couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was me.
She withdrew her hand as I came back to bed and to her.
We wrapped into each other, and while she started to talk to me more, I was soon snoring away. She sighed and smiled to herself and let herself drift to sleep as well.
The next morning the two of us quietly and somberly prepared, and went to see the lawyer.
There wasn’t much said or really to be said.
As we traveled to the office, Arundhatī Joshī thought over again how she had answered what was asked of her by others.
She had essentially answered the truth asked of her, but she carried that weight of the whole story.
I and Arundhatī Joshī knew the whole truth, and that was more intimate knowledge we both shared with each other and no one else.
We both sat together listening to Vinod Sharmā’s friend and lawyer.
During the meeting with the lawyer, I tried to act friendly and talkative, but it was as if Arundhatī Joshī was still dysfunctional.
She was quiet and still numb, it seemed.
She did muster one reaction though.
There was an emotional outburst that was part laugh and part sob at a disclosure the lawyer made to the both of us.
The lawyer described it professionally and gently, but there was the sense that I had hoped the revelation would provide whatever comfort that it could.
The lawyer was meeting with us to talk about Vinod Sharmā’s estate.
There were several details to cover.
But significantly, I wanted Arundhatī Joshī to know there was at least one thing she didn’t have to worry about any more.
Vinod Sharmā had left three separate life insurance policies, and Arundhatī Joshī was the sole beneficiary of all three policies.
Arundhatī Joshī was going to receive three million dollars.
There was only one condition however.
Arundhatī Joshī smiled and fulfilled the last wish of her husband.
That was what she herself was dying for.
Her late husband had actually gifted her everything she needed immensely.
Three million dollars and me.
Arundhatī Joshī never needed anything else.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
She drifted down to her knees.
She brought her hands to my jeans, and as she undid them and worked the zipper, she glanced back up to see the utter pleasant shock on my face.
She pulled my engorged Bachhalyā shaft from my jeans and the thickness again amazed her.
Her fist worked around me and she stroked at me.
She hadn’t felt this emboldened, or this invigorated, in years, she knew.
She glanced up.
“Do you want this?” Her voice was meek but clear.
“Yeah!” My response was quick and sure.
We both chuckled.
We both knew she was shocking me with this, but we both also knew she was liking doing this and being shocking.
She kissed my head again, and as I moaned and looked down at her, she opened her mouth wide, pushing it down over my head and to where several inches went into her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.
She started sucking at me fervently, with her small fist pumping away at my length.
Her cheeks were reacting with each stroke of me she made.
I wasn’t going to last long and we both knew it.
I gripped her hair in my hands, and I started showing that I was close.
I narrowed my eyes and my brow tensed.
A sudden familiar sound startled us both.
The grinding sound of the garage door sliding open reverberated.
She flashed a panicked look at me.
“Hey, hey, hey! That’s Vinod!” Arundhatī Joshī snapped.
Much to my pleasant shock again, she didn’t even slow.
She just kept looking back at me and pumping me into her mouth.
A car door slammed, yet my face never twisted even a bit with concern.
“We have to stop.” I urged.
The kitchen door opened downstairs and swung closed.
“Honey, I’m home.” Vinod Sharmā’s voice called out from downstairs.
Arundhatī Joshī still did not take me out of her mouth, and now I seemed to be pulling at her hair.
My eyes gave a look like I was surrendering to something within me.
We could both hear Vinod Sharmā at the foot of the stairs, and I spasmed violently, exploding into Arundhatī Joshī‘s mouth.
My body contorted and a third spray released.
Arundhatī Joshī gazed up at me with half-closed eyes.
Steps could be heard making their way up the staircase, and Arundhatī Joshī let my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund pop out of her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.
I worked my jeans up and started fastening them.
I looked at Arundhatī Joshī, and she looked unsteady on her feet as she gave me a mischievous smirk and wiped at her mouth with two fingers.
Vinod Sharmā could be heard getting to the top of the stairs, and I watched Arundhatī Joshī dab the two fingers between her lips, licking them clean.
I watched in utter pleasant shock, as Arundhatī Joshī opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall.
I stood at my door and watched Arundhatī Joshī go the few feet to where Vinod Sharmā was heading into their bedroom.
“Hey honey,” Arundhatī Joshī said to Vinod Sharmā, as she tilted Vinod Sharmā’s face towards hers.
Arundhatī Joshī planted a big, full kiss on Vinod Sharmā before Vinod Sharmā walked on into their bedroom.
I stood looking at Arundhatī Joshī pleasantly dumbfounded, as she looked back to me before joining her husband in their bedroom.
She pointed to my jeans and then made an up and down motion with her fingers.
I looked down to see what she was referring to, and I then realized my jeans were unzipped.
I looked up and back at Arundhatī Joshī, who smiled brightly to me before ducking into the bedroom.
After the tumultuous Saturday, we all went to dinner together.
Vinod Sharmā drove, and Arundhatī Joshī was in the passenger seat, while I quietly rode in the back seat.
Vinod Sharmā talked golf, as Arundhatī Joshī peered out the window.
She felt a swirl of different emotions about the last two days.
She especially felt regret at having pulled the stunt she did just earlier, when she had gone up and kissed Vinod Sharmā once he got home.
That was stupid and wrong.
She rationalized it to herself by thinking about how elated she had felt at finally having had passionate sex with me, after years of her and Vinod Sharmā barely touching.
Even though it was with me, which was a whole other set of problems itself, it was still not justification for having done something so devious.
She swore to herself she would make it up to me.
The car was almost to the restaurant as she was also shocked, as well as delighted, that she had even let herself do some of the things she had done.
Sure, she had fantasized about different acts or such, but she had never really been a daring partner.
Not at all.
To have done the things she had in the last two days simply shocked her.
As we pulled to the valet, she flipped her vanity mirror down to adjust her makeup.
She used the opportunity to look in the mirror to the backseat at me.
I was looking ahead and clearly fixed in my own thoughts.
She felt jarring guilt.
She felt the guilt for having been the way she was at the party with me, and then she wrestled maddening guilt at the notion of having had sex with me.
Maybe she was going insane, she thought.
But just as she had already done in her previous reflections on the day, where she had kicked and thrashed herself inside for having had sex with me, her thoughts at once went to the both of us together.
It was like she looked at me in two totally different ways.
She knew she had to have some malady, she figured, but she looked at me as a Bachhalyā on one hand, and on another, she viewed me as this ever young, virile man.
She further justified clearly I was experienced with even Brāhmañ women already.
I had not been an unwitting victim, she believed.
I had pursued her, just as she had accepted my advances.
She also repeatedly thought of herself as pathetic in a way.
She could no longer claim to be a good friend’s wife.
She could never claim this ever again.
Plus, it was likely she had unalterably changed her relationship with me to where there would be at least some negative consequences.
All of these rational thoughts replayed in her head, but as if on cue, her focus shifted.
She stood, straightened her skirt and looked over at me who was also standing and looking over at her with a grin.
Yes, it was all of those things alright, but she still felt the way she did.
She loved me, and… well, she wanted me.
She felt a chill as we all went into the restaurant.
She held her head up, but she gave it a small shake in bewilderment.
All appeared calm and collected, but as we walked in together, she did so with the knowledge that her exchanged glance with me had made her wet.*
At our table, all the three of us soon were downing drinks.
Of course, I juices only.
Vinod Sharmā had his first of probably many Scotch and waters.
Arundhatī Joshī ordered her favorite Chardonnay, and I stuck with my usual juices.
There was a comfortable atmosphere despite the morning’s confrontation, as Vinod Sharmā and I talked up the football games going on for the weekend.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t really join in the conversation, but she didn’t really mind either.
She took a devious enjoyment in sitting back and observing us.
Vinod Sharmā spoke as he understood I was conditioned to do, and that was authoritatively.
He’d learned long ago to think and feel confidently and it had served him well.
Plus, I was his friend.
He felt good speaking to me with assuredness.
Of course, Vinod Sharmā knew what the games meant for the teams involved, and Vinod Sharmā felt good about my view of who would do well.
I delighted in sharing this with me.
I had always felt there was an inconsistency with how interested my friend was in even talking to me.
He’d soak this up, even if at times Vinod Sharmā seemed kind of… smug.
I smiled to my friend and nodded.
I also occasionally stole looks at my friend’s wife.
I was amazed.
I saw this composed, elegant young woman, the same image I had observed for years.
But now, I also saw this young woman who looked just slightly steeled to where she was avoiding the visibility of layers that shouldn’t be seen.
One layer was a restlessness that contained an appetite.
This was a layer she didn’t want detected.
It was a layer that made her incredibly more interesting and desirable to me now.
For herself, Arundhatī Joshī wondered how these guys could care so much about such a meaningless thing as the football games.
Her glass never left her hand as she savored each drink of the white wine.
She couldn’t help but marvel somewhat at me, as I showed absolutely no discomfort or inhibition at the table at all.
Here I had just spent some of the day betraying my friend as severely as I could, and I seemed utterly unfazed.
She choked at her wine as she realized the exact same thing could be said of herself.
Both men looked concernedly over to her, and she waved us off.
We resumed our conversation effortlessly, as she resumed her thoughts on my lack of concern as well as her own.
In her mind, she and I just cared for each other deeply.
It was so intense that it was like we were compelled to show it physically, she told herself.
And, she concluded that this must explain my ease with the situation as well.
After a couple of more drinks and the appetizer, Arundhatī Joshī found herself looking more and more at me.
When I’d return her look, I gazed back with a look Arundhatī Joshī adored.
It was a cute but desirous look as well.
It was hard for her to believe, but exactly what she wanted.
She admonished herself that she needed to be careful, but part of her didn’t care.
She made herself participate more in some of our talk, but she started feeling that Vinod Sharmā was just acting too… smug.
It agitated her somewhat.
During the meal, Vinod Sharmā took stock of the evening and felt a sense of contentment.
I liked and admired his wife, regardless of whether he still found her desirable.
Their comfort and security with one another was one of the best things he valued.
As far as his other needs went, he had solved that issue some time back.
Just like on this particular Saturday, his routine was golf with buddies.
He inwardly grinned knowing his Saturday routine also always included the stop by his favorite massage therapist on the way home.
There was that hour of alone time and relaxation that always culminated in the young Musalmān woman finishing his massage in a delirious release that left him sated.
This never failed to calm him and make Saturday evening that much more enjoyable, knowing his every need had been met.
This evening was no different.*
The car ride home from the restaurant was quiet and subdued.
Everyone had eaten well and had enjoyed drinks throughout the evening.
Everyone was also lost in his/her own thoughts.
Once home, Vinod Sharmā and Arundhatī Joshī made their way straight to the kitchen for night caps to take upstairs to bed.
I went to my room to change into a t-shirt and gym shorts.
I was looking forward to watching the end of the football game on TV.
Arundhatī Joshī followed Vinod Sharmā back upstairs, and she found herself excited with an idea she’d come to over the course of the evening.
She changed clothes into a nice teddy while Vinod Sharmā readied himself for bed in the bathroom.
This would be her chance to make things right with Vinod Sharmā, she figured.
Vinod Sharmā stepped out of the bathroom and directed himself straight to the bed.
Pulling back the covers, he heard Arundhatī Joshī speak to me from where she was standing across from him before getting into the bed herself.
He saw the black teddy and grinned.
“Hey baby,” she purred and she tried to give a sly grin.
Vinod Sharmā chuckled.
He continued pulling himself into bed.
Arundhatī Joshī slipped under the covers beside him.
She slid over to him, and he felt himself brace as she did.
“Sweetheart, you look great,” they both knew there was a ‘but’ coming.
“I’m really beat tonight, you know? I mean, we partied last night. I played golf all day. Then, all the drinks and food tonight. I got to get some sleep, that’s all.”
Arundhatī Joshī patted at her hair trying to seem unaffected.
“Hey, I understand. Don’t worry. I can help you get to sleep, you know?” Her hand went to his side and rubbed him.
Vinod Sharmā shifted in bed, effectively moving from her.
“Tell you what, let’s hold that idea till in the morning. We’ll do just that. I’m beat tonight.”
Arundhatī Joshī flopped over onto her back on her side of the bed. She stared dejectedly up at the ceiling.
Then, she popped out of bed, shrugging off the nightie and pulling on her satin robe.
“I’m going downstairs for a drink.”
She pulled the door loudly shut, as she stormed from the room.
She tugged the robe tightly to her body, and she tried to compose herself as she descended the stairs.
Incredibly, she had gone from feeling buoyant and bright to weak and insecure in Vinod Sharmā’s swift rejection of her.
Just calm down, she told herself.
Propped on the sofa and engrossed in the football game, I noticeably brightened when she entered the living room.
Arundhatī Joshī beamed right back at me.
She was very grateful for my reaction.
“Hey,” she looked at me, then the TV and back at me.
“How are you doing?” I asked with a warmness in my tone.
“I’m okay.” She sat in a chair facing the sofa and she tried to show interest in what I was watching. “Who’s winning?”
I answered, but it was completely lost on her.
She nodded absently and acted like she was watching along with me.
I went about trying to explain to her how the pro football teams played Saturday night games when December rolled around, when they typically would not previously in the season.
Arundhatī Joshī listened and looked at me, but she didn’t seem genuinely interested in the subject, only in holding my attention.
I grinned appreciatively at her.
Arundhatī Joshī stood and walked to the kitchen.
She went to refresh her glass, knowing full well she should stop and leave well enough alone. There was a haze from the night’s indulgence that she was aware of and decided to continue to fuel.
She drank her wine and paced a couple of steps in the kitchen.
She found herself standing in front of the sink where a large clear window overlooked their back yard.
Arundhatī Joshī stared longingly out the window.
Her thoughts jumped around.
She could make out her reflection very well in the clean glass of the window.
She saw a younger woman that she wondered about.
She had this self-image, but she wondered now whether it fit.
She doubted her looks any more, and now she began doubting even her own judgment.
Hadn’t she made a huge mistake?
What could she be thinking, having these feelings about me?
Was she just desperate?
Was she just starved?
She drank more of the wine from her glass, and she gave an answer at least to the last question.
After the day she just experienced, she recognized that she had been missing a lot.
It was just the truth.
And, if she was being really honest with herself, the affection, and the sex, was still a need for her.
An important need, she admitted.
Against her better judgment, she thought about me and our time.
She took a deep breath as she thought about how I was and how I had made her feel.
She had to admit I had made her feel like she hadn’t in a very long time, if ever.
She silently stirred at how very well I had been with her.
Then, as if on cue, I materialized in the reflection of the window, and she saw I was now standing there behind her.
At first, neither of us spoke, even though we both acknowledged each other in the reflection with our looks to each other.
The tension was palpable.
Here she was downstairs with me.
She had come downstairs, leaving Vinod Sharmā upstairs in bed asleep.
She had come downstairs and found me here. And… She had stayed.
Arundhatī Joshī studied her glass for a moment and swirled it about. “Is the game still on?”
“What’s the score now?”
“I don’t care any more.”
She smiled at me in the reflection. “Good answer.”
I looked at her intensely.
“Why aren’t you in there watching it?” There was a hint of challenge in her tone.
“Because you’re in here.”
She chuckled at this. “Mmmmmm, even better answer.”
She pulled a long taste of her wine.
Then, as if thinking better of our banter, she added, “You should go back to your game.”
“I don’t want to.” My hands went to her arms and traced up.
I started massaging her shoulders, and she seemed a little surprised.
At first, she tried hard to act indifferent.
She seemed to resist showing any reaction.
This was what she should do.
“Well, you should.” Her tone was thin and unconvincing.
I brought my hands back down her arms, and I leaned much closer to her.
She saw in the window how my head moved closer to her own.
“We can’t be that way again.” She said it quietly. Resignedly.
I opened my hands wide and went from her arms to her sides still massaging her.
She closed her eyes at my touch.
“You’re crazy. This is wrong.” She was even quieter than before.
No conviction was behind the words.
My hands glided wide over her belly and she wavered as she watched my hands on her, mentally noting how wide my hands were.
Her belly felt on fire from me.
She then felt me press to her from behind, my body was solid and straight.
There was definitely a bulge down there, too.
“Please… stop.” She was completely unconvincing and her words flat.
I paused like I might stop.
She froze in place.
A moment passed where she seemed to think.
She reached out and put her drink down, then reached with her hands to me.
We both saw me smile in the reflection.
“You are such a beautiful woman.”
“I wish that was true.”
“Of course it’s true.”
I put my hands to the satin belt of her robe and I waited letting her see what I was doing.
My hands drew a line over the belt out in each direction and back again, as her hands followed atop mine.
Her hands lightly gripped me, as if to discourage me.
We watched the material of her robe crease as the hands went up.
“I should go to bed.” She said it like she was commenting about someone else.
Her hands stayed at my arms as my hands reached to trace at the satin of the robe high on her chest.
I pressed at her robe, and she felt the lines I made over her breasts underneath, before going on to circle her chest with motions that went around the points of her robe where her nipples tented it.
My fingers rubbed the satin against her so that her nipples felt the satin press them and then release.
Impossibly, I was making them harder and more pointed with my caresses there.
She drew a sharp breath at my motions, and I lowered my face and spoke softly into her ear.
“Do you want to go to bed? Is that what you want?”
She raised her arms to put her hands in my hair up and behind her.
With this I dipped my head and started kissing her neck and over onto her shoulder.
She sighed and whispered.
I continued to kiss and lick her shoulders.
She clenched her eyes and opened them to see my hands pull the part of her robe where it crossed at her chest.
I just tugged it apart.
The robes’ sides backed away from each other, and the bare skin of her chest displayed in full view of the both of us.
Her breasts hung openly and fully, bottomed with the protruding pointed nipples I had teased when they were covered.
My hands came to them and held them, lifting just slightly.
Her entire body swooned a little at what I had done to her, as she acted unsteady.
Looking at her, I said more in her ear.
“You don’t want to go to bed, do you?”
There was a muffled sound from her.
I straightened my stance, and her head rested more back against my chest but still gazed forward at our reflection.
My hands moved again.
One swipe at the belt finished unleashing it, and my hands pressed at the open hips that appeared.
My left hand stayed pressed to her hip, and my right hand crossed her skin at her waist.
“AHHHHHHHH!” She exclaimed at my entry.
As if reflexively, she brought her hips backwards.
I pushed back at her and held.
“Oh, Durgesh!” She yelped at me.
I couldn’t believe how wet and hot she felt to my touch.
Overcome with her reaction, I brought my left arm under around her waist.
I maneuvered her around and away from the counter.
I had her wrapped in my arm and my hand holding her, as I physically brought her across the room to the kitchen table.
I forced her to the table, her back still to me, and pinned her there.
In one swift push, I had her bent over the table.
Her hands went out by her sides and braced herself.
She didn’t pull back up or slide in either direction away.
I saw no resistance from her at all.
I hovered over where I was rendering her bent over the table.
She slumped in a sprawl right in front of me.
We both heard her take a sharp gasp, when I flipped her robe up over her back from behind.
The next sound was a soft cry from her.
The gym shorts easily lowered to release my full erection.
I slid a foot of hers sideways, leaving her legs spread wide and further flattening her onto the table.
My left hand left her back where I had first thought I might have to hold her, and it went between her legs.
She reeled from my left hand reaching to her crotch and manipulating her there, fingers prying at her and opening her.
She felt lightheaded from the surprising physicality of it all, and she twitched anxiously under me.
With her lips worked open, a thick plunge pushed her forward and her upper body traveled up the surface of the table.
Desperately, she gripped to brace herself, as her body lifted impaled and defenseless.
Waves of tingling charges and profound pleasure washed over her, as she felt her helplessness at my Bachhalyā thrusts.
Her mouth fell open but silent, and her head tilted up and forward.
I was working at her and pushing. Vigorously.
“UUNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!” The moaning came from her throat as I pumped at her.
Arundhatī Joshī couldn’t believe how hard and thick I felt pistoning in and out of her, and she writhed uncontrollably.
I felt as hard and excited as I could ever remember being, with her lying out below me and my having my way deep inside her.
Her body jerked about with each pump from me.
My balls felt heavy right away and I wondered how long I could last.
Arundhatī Joshī shook her head back and forth and relished the fullness of me there.
She had never been taken as thoroughly as this.
Lightness and more spasms shot through her as she struggled to contain herself from screaming loudly.
She was bucking more and more as yet another orgasm rocked her.
As she shook violently, I was set off into my own.
Seeing her body shake as it did pushed me over the edge, and I grunted and shot into her.
I pushed and made a grinding effort at her as though I was seeking some finish even deeper within her.
With my hips forward and my back hunched I slowed to a stop.
Arundhatī Joshī still had her hips elevated and was impaled on me as she tried to catch her breath and her emotions.
Her chest was mashed to the table top and her palms were flat on it.
She let her head softly ease to rest on the table’s surface as well.
She at once thought of how she must have looked at me.
Her legs were spread lewdly.
She even felt her cheeks at her bottom open given the width of her legs being apart.
Her entire upper torso and arms were still pushed forward and the robe dangled about in disarray.
She had to have looked ravished.
Nevertheless, when she thought of how I even still felt to her, lodged within, and how exquisitely taken every part of her felt, she couldn’t suppress a big smile.
I had wildly fucked her.
Durgesh was always right.
It was an art.
And Durgesh was the only master of this art.
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
He seemed to be sticking with just a couple of the other men.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t understand why it was that he didn’t move about or use this party as the occasion to mingle.
These were people they’d mostly known a good while, and she thought it best he be friendly and more open.
This holiday party was one of the social events Arundhatī Joshī always looked forward to.
She had picked out her form-fitting black dress weeks before, and her black heels were her favorites.
She liked especially when her friends noticed her choices, and she in turn appreciated theirs.
A couple of her friends were even very complimentary to her this year.
One had been so flattering as to compare her to the actress Anne Archer, and the way the actress had looked in a popular movie from years ago.
Arundhatī Joshī was guardedly aware of the comparison but didn’t say much about. She did take good care of herself, and she thought her bright eyes and full lips did accentuate whatever appeal she carried.
At 5’5″ and 120 pounds, she worked out regularly and ate carefully.
Arundhatī Joshī was proud she had maintained herself as she had.
This was regardless of whatever popular comparison was made of her to an actress.
A few minutes after nine o’clock, Arundhatī Joshī was near the front entrance of the clubhouse when she heard a newcomer being welcomed inside.
Her attention was piqued when she heard that deep, distinctive voice.
She’d recognize that voice anywhere, she knew.
She stepped quickly around a hall to the front entrance and then she let out a shriek.
“Heeyyyyyy!” She exclaimed upon seeing me.
My face brightened into a beaming smile, and I instantly embraced her.
“Hey, Arundhatī Joshī!” I answered as excitedly back to her as she had done with me. We hugged each other tightly, and those around us all smiled at our joy in seeing each other.
Arundhatī Joshī pulled back to look at me, and she talked of how I had already seemed to change.
We continued to hold onto each other as we quickly talked and started catching up.
After a few minutes, she took me by the arm.
Arundhatī Joshī ushered me on into the party and started showing me around.
Her first stop was with my friend, and while we may not have shown quite the excitement that Arundhatī Joshī and I had, it was still clear to her that Vinod Sharmā was glad to see me, their only friend in need.
Arundhatī Joshī slowly drifted back.
Shhe let me see others and mingle on my own.
She kept a watchful eye, as I easily roamed around seeing others just as effortlessly as she always managed.
She of course attributed that to herself and not to my more socially stunted and reserved friend, Vinod Sharmā.
Arundhatī Joshī also, for probably the first time, took notice of just what a man I was.
I clearly seemed more mature and more grown than she could ever remember seeing before.
I stood up straight and tall, always an imposing figure to her.
I had kept lean and athletic, and I was certainly handsome, making Arundhatī Joshī reassured that I was popular with the girls back at everywhere.
A friend of Arundhatī Joshī‘s ambled beside her and also looked over to me.
“Wow, Arundhatī Joshī. He’s really utmost handsome still at his Sixty Six even, you know?”
Arundhatī Joshī couldn’t get out a spoken response, and the truth was that she was probably a little oft put by having a friend of hers make such an adult comment about her husband’s friend.
Arundhatī Joshī just shrugged, but the friend offered more.
“I mean, he’s really the stud they claim.”
Arundhatī Joshī half-turned to her friend and playfully slapped at her.
Arundhatī Joshī gasped at the remark and they both snickered.
But as Arundhatī Joshī turned her attention back to me, she did exactly as the friend had suggested and she took in my arms and hands.
They appeared strong even at my Sixty Six and noticeably so.
Arundhatī Joshī mentally examined my hands and she felt a queasiness inside, as it registered with her that her friend had perceived correctly.
My hands did look more handsome than normal.
She turned back to her friend and she wondered if her friend had watched her eye me.
They just chuckled to one another, and they went for another drink.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t know if the wandering observation meant she needed more to drink or whether it signaled she should stop.
It took but an instant for her to conclude that it meant for her to have another one.
As the evening wore on, she enjoyed her friends and neighbors, and she kept her glass refilled.
She felt such an excitement and happiness that she also replenished her husband’s glass as well.
She knew she was getting buzzed, but she also knew this was one of the few parties she really let herself relax at.
Besides, we were just a short walk from home.
During the party, she kept an eye on her husband, and she tried to see for herself just how much I actually did socialize.
She found herself regretting that he didn’t seem to try harder socially.
She believed that he would get more out of things like this party if he just put more effort into it.
Much to her tipsied surprise, she also found herself keeping an eye on me.
She liked how I did make the effort, and she was sure that I and she were so very alike at how we were both so social.
More than once, she found herself just watching me.
A couple of times, I caught her watching me, too.
I would just smile over at her and give some gesture.
Whether a small wave or a knowing nod, I never failed to acknowledge her.
Arundhatī Joshī felt an unusual mix of pride in me, together with a new-found appreciation for what an impressive ever young man I had become.
She wondered if I must have overnight reached this age where I was such a man.
She partially understood her take of me was influenced by the alcohol, and she warned herself to slow it down.
Arundhatī Joshī made her way carefully to the kitchen, and she poured the remaining drink she had into the sink.
She went to rest against the counter when she was pleasantly surprised by me moving right up next to her.
“Hey lady,” I smiled to her as if we shared a secret and she found herself feeling charmed by me. “Have you been a good girl this year?”
I openly laughed, and she did, too.
Arundhatī Joshī felt herself practically blushing and she let herself imagine I was almost flirting with her.
“Well, unfortunately, yes. I have.”
We laughed more at her playing along, and she shook her head at me.
She was definitely feeling the lightness from the wine when one of the guests in the kitchen chuckled and pointed towards her.
The few guests in the kitchen looked above Arundhatī Joshī‘s head and looked back down at her again, all of them smiling at what they’d seen.
Arundhatī Joshī was perplexed at first, and she looked overhead to see what they were looking at.
She found herself looking right up at a twig of mistletoe.
She looked back down and then over next to her.
She looked up at me, and when I grinned back at her, she just kept looking up to me.
Without really thinking why, she knew she was looking at me too long.
She was sure she was confounding me by putting me on the spot with herself under the mistletoe, but I surprised her right back.
It was like I didn’t miss a beat in answering her gesture of looking to me when I moved to her and took Arundhatī Joshī into my own arms.
I let it linger briefly, and she heard a couple of people reacting with ‘ahhhs’.
As soon as I pulled back, Arundhatī Joshī decided she wouldn’t be outdone.
This time Arundhatī Joshī lingered and she was surprised when I didn’t pull right away.
Was it romance?
Was Arundhatī Joshī in love with me, her husband’s friend?
When I did break our connection, Arundhatī Joshī felt an exuberant rush she didn’t expect.
She pulled my face back, and gave another quick kiss.
This seemed to challenge me, and amid some audible reactions from the guests who were watching, I kissed her right back and a bit more urgently.
My tongue was there and urgent itself, and it was the sounds of louder reactions from the other guests that finally prompted Arundhatī Joshī to release me.
We both laughed.
She knew her face was flush with the craziness of what had happened.
The other guests were buzzing in the background, but all she could do was look at me and quietly shake her head in amazement.
I smiled broadly.
Arundhatī Joshī took a long, confident pull on her drink.
She could only stare at me openly and feel a giddiness.
Without saying anything more, Arundhatī Joshī headed over to the hallway.
She was still dazed as she made her way to the stairs and headed to a bathroom.
I had certainly surprised her.
She figured she had surprised me, too.
Arundhatī Joshī was still feeling a lightness from her kisses with me, as she freshened herself in the upstairs bathroom before coming out.
She checked her hair and make-up in the mirror, and she was pleasantly amused when she realized she had to re-apply her lipstick.
She was incredulous that she was using more lipstick because of kissing me.
She chuckled to herself as she carefully dabbed at her full lips with the red gloss.
When she was contented with her composed look once more, she opened the door and started back out to the party.
As she got into the hall she flinched as she came directly in front of me.
I was standing right in front of her and grinning down at her.
She started grinning right back, and she drew a sharp intake of breath when I took her by the arm and pulled her into an adjoining room.
I closed the door behind us where we were then alone.
She felt shock as I was once again bringing my face to hers, and she shocked herself when she decided to just go with what I did.
I was kissing her again, and this time it was I who was opening my mouth to hers.
My tongue entered her mouth and wrestled with hers, and she started pulling back from me, only to feel me stay on her mouth. She felt herself relent to my kiss.
She felt the same giddiness she had started to feel in the kitchen only this time it was intensified.
The feel of me and the complete surprise of it caused her to stand there and just receive my forceful, full kiss.
She brought a hand to my chest and she was about to press it to my chest when I took her hand.
She felt my mouth move fervently on her own, and she thought I was about to break the kiss since she’d brought her hand up. Instead, she felt me move her hand.
I brought it down, and in a one smooth motion it went right on top of my Bachhalyā crotch.
Arundhatī Joshī immediately tensed and she shrieked into my mouth.
She pulled at her hand to bring it away, but I kept it pressed to me.
My tongue worked about in her mouth, and she felt herself instinctively react.
Arundhatī Joshī squeezed at me there and held it, deliberately now, entirely unashamed of herself.
Hey Bhagvān! God, Arundhatī Joshī never knew she loved me as her man so much.
She never knew.
She never knew.
Yet the proof was there.
She then felt my hand go quickly up under her dress and between her legs.
She absolutely could not believe I had my hand on her panties and was feeling her there.
As if the reality came in a jolt, she knew to stop.
“No,” she snapped, “no.” She yanked my hand from between her legs.
She looked to me and my face looked intense where I was clearly aroused and focused on her.
She smiled and shook her head.
I managed a smirk back.
She pushed to my side and escaped out the door, looking back over her shoulder to me as she moved away.
She wished she hadn’t been grinning as she was, but she couldn’t help it.
I grinned back as I watched her drift off to other females at the party.*
It wasn’t much longer before the three of us left the clubhouse and walked the couple of blocks home.
We arrived home.
It was as if Vinod Sharmā couldn’t wait to make it upstairs and collapse onto the bed.
Arundhatī Joshī noticed me stealing glances her way repeatedly, no doubt emboldened by what had happened between us.
As Vinod Sharmā started climbing the stairs, I looked at her once again as she went to follow Vinod Sharmā to bed.
She looked back at me, and there was a conspiratorial smile between Arundhatī Joshī and me.
When she kept going up the stairs to follow Vinod Sharmā to bed, I fell along behind them to climb up the stairs.
The three of us marched up the stairs.
We got upstairs.
Vinod Sharmā and Arundhatī Joshī started in one direction with me going the other.
We said our good nights.
Arundhatī Joshī again looked to a grinning me and shook her head as if in disbelief.
I kept her look as she went into the bedroom with Vinod Sharmā.
Arundhatī Joshī hadn’t yet started to undress and she felt compelled to say something to me.
She wasn’t sure what exactly, but as she gave Vinod Sharmā time to undress and ready himself for bed, she decided to go and speak to me.
Vinod Sharmā was falling into bed and into a certain stupor when she told him she’d be right back.
She mentally gathered herself to comfort me and tried to compose her thoughts as she went down the hallway.
A mix of feelings swirled within her, as she knew she had to be the authoritative voice of reason, but yet she was also still enjoying the playful side of whatever was going on.
She got to my bedroom door and she took a deep breath.
Usually, she might knock first, but she decided just to let herself in.
She quietly pushed the door open and slipped just inside.
She closed it back, but she didn’t move further, staying where she was leaning back against the door.
When she entered, I turned to her from where I was across the room.
We both froze and stared at each other.
I was in a t-shirt and boxers, and she managed to stay focused on my face.
“Hey.” She said meekly, when she had intended to come across as authoritative.
“Hey,” I responded and my voice sounded deep and rich to her.
Her mouth parted to say something, but at first no words came.
She instantly knew she’d made a mistake.
She surprised even herself at feeling so disinclined to act firmly with me.
“Um, I’m not sure what happened back there,” she started but I interrupted her, sounding clearly more certain than her.
“You’re not?” I sounded disbelieving her.
I crossed my arms and leaned back Imyself this time, using a desk in my room to prop against.
“No, um,” she hated sounding so unsteady as she heard her words come slowly.
Then, against better judgment, she let her eyes look downward and we surveyed my barely clad body.
Her eyes noted the thin boxers I had on, and there was a large, considerable lump in the middle of them.
She looked quickly back up to my face, but I was grinning appreciatively at her apparent interest.
She shook her head and tried to change her tone.
“I was out of line tonight. …”
“It was both of us who felt what we did.”
“Well, we shouldn’t have done that.” She sounded a bit more firm and resolved, she figured.
I seemed to relax my stance just a bit, as my arms unfolded and I simply put them at my sides.
I softened the look on my face and spoke as if to reassure her.
“It’s okay. Really it is. We were both into it, you know?”
Arundhatī Joshī stood more forward and the concern now came through in her voice.
“Durgesh, no. No, it’s not okay. For goodness sake, I’m your friend’s wife. And… I’m married after all.”
She immediately regretted she’d added such an obvious fact, but she was feeling shaken by my attitude about this.
I leaned just forward, too.
I looked at her caringly and spoke softly as if trying to calm her. “Hey, we are both adults. And… .”
I paused and we both were aware she hung on my words for my thought.
I continued in a slightly more hushed tone.
“And we both liked it.” I grinned.
She closed her eyes at my saying that aloud, and then looked back at me and replied.
“Well, we got carried away with all the alcohol and all. But nothing like that can happen again.” She said it in a gentle way and with a slight smile, and she started opening the door to leave.
She had the door ajar, but had yet to leave, when my movement gave her pause.
She looked to me, and I was stripping my t-shirt away.
I let it slip to the floor and then I stood straight, facing directly at her.
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Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan must have heard me.
“It’s Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb on line there,” she said.
I perked up immediately.
“Okay. Thanks.” I stabbed the button for line three. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Is it a good time?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb said. “I tried calling your cell phone, but you didn’t answer.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I was on another call. An important one.” I frowned at the memory, but then took a deep breath and forced a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I need help, Durgesh,” she said frankly, and I sat forward.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I bellowed, ignoring the intercom.
“You don’t have to shout,” she smiled when she appeared in the door. “I’m right here.”
“Book me on the next flight to Blacksburg, Virginia,” I said. “And have a rental car waiting at the airport. Also, call U-Haul, or Ryder, or whoever, and rent a truck for a one-way trip.”
“Are you on a white knight errand?” she asked, smiling wryly.
“My little girl needs help.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan leaned against the doorframe. “What happened?”
“Her car died and she doesn’t have a way to get home from Office. The dealership told her it would be two weeks before they’d have the parts. Damned Eurotrash imports!”
She rolled her eyes.
It was one of his frequent rants.
“Anyway,” I continued, “it’s a good time for me to go—”
“To escape, you mean,” she smiled teasing me.
“—and I’m…” I turned impish myself. “Am I that obvious?”
She smiled fondly and shook her head.
“Yeah, I guess I’m taking an impromptu vacation. But I won’t really be out of contact. I’ll have my laptop and my cell phone. Pramod can handle Raytheon, and you can handle everything here.”
“So I’m going to rescue my little girl.”
“She isn’t your little girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “She is already twenty eight and her Ammī, Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, is forty eight already. Give Rashīdah auntie some time for herself now, please. She left her husband for you when Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was actually a little girl. You’re enjoying Rashīdah auntie’s dazzling Musalmān beauty for more than twenty years now. Still you bulldoze her so much that she was complaining.”
“Nonsense,” I smiled winking at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, “Al Rashīdah Al Faisal is still ravenous when I bulldoze her on the bed. Sālī, you want me to bulldoze only Jet Musalmān Beauties. Below forty only.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“What’s wrong in that? We need your permanently stanch, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund more into our more ravenous, more needy Musalmān Cunts than those above forty. They have enjoyed their share already too much.”
I smiled cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly herself.
She didn’t respond to it, deliberately.
“I’ll make all the arrangements,” she added. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”
I considered for a moment, but then shook my head.
I didn’t want to inconvenience her.
Besides, I needed her running things in the office.
“I’ll take a limo,” I said.
“I’ll have the driver meet you at the house.”
With a nod and a smile, I turned back to my computer.
I had a dozen e-mails to send before I left.
I’d also have to tell Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, but she wouldn’t care.
She and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal had a pageant in San Diego.
I vaguely recalled that it was part of the Miss California USA competition, but I didn’t give it a second thought.
Virginia was hot.
Hot and sticky.
I had already worked up a sweat just walking to my rental car.
Five minutes later, with the air conditioner on full blast, I was headed toward Blacksburg and the Virginia Tech campus.
I called Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb once I was sure of my bearings.
She gave me directions to her dorm, but I remembered the place from when I’d brought her to her Office.
She met me in the lobby and my eyes lit up when I saw her.
Unlike Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal—who were salon blondes—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was dark-haired.
And while Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal were busty—courtesy of very expensive boob jobs—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was petite and natural.
She was nothing like her mother or sister, and I liked that just fine.
She hugged me tight.
“Thanks for coming. I could’ve driven home by myself, but…”
“Nonsense,” I said. “That’s what I’m for. They say I can’t see any Musalmān damsel in distress ever.”
She laughed, looped her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder.
We picked up the rental truck and returned to the dorm, where they loaded Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb’s things.
I couldn’t imagine how she’d fit so much stuff in her tiny dorm room.
It filled nearly half of the small truck.
After she checked out of the dorm, we had dinner and spent the night in a hotel.
Her car was still with the dealer, but I arranged for us to send it cross-country when the repairs were complete.
The service manager had balked at my “request,” but the dealership’s general manager understood the unspoken threat in my voice.
The next morning, Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb and I were on the road by seven o’clock, with sausage biscuits and hot coffee.
I cringed at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s imagined reproach, but I savored the buttery biscuit and willed her to silence.
“What’re you smirking at?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb asked.
I controlled heating my cheeks.
“Yeah. Just now. You were smirking.”
“I shouldn’t be eating this,” I admitted.
“Because of your cholesterol?”
In the blink of an eye, she snatched the biscuit and began rolling down her window.
“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, no!”
She tossed it out, wrapper and all.
“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, that was my breakfast!”
“We’ll stop for an early lunch,” she said, unperturbed.
I glared at her.
“You know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s going to ask me how you ate,” she said. “And I won’t lie to her.”
“You could’ve lied this once,” I muttered, half serious, half joking.
“No, I couldn’t’ve. If you won’t take care of yourself, the women in your life will just have to do it for you.”
I wondered whether Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb had really gone through Parkāyā Pravésh.
Or was it her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Ħabīb himself who had gone through Parkāyā Pravésh?*
Kħadījah Muħammad, my outqueen, my confidential secretary, my everything, smiled at me.
“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, an executive type is anxiously and impatiently waiting in the outer office.”
“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā ?” I asked.
Kħadījah Muħammad was only two years younger than me.
Yet she never looked more than thirty four.
“He wants to consult me?”
“Nonsense,” Kħadījah Muħammad retorted, “Nobody is as capable as you are. You have almost infinite Shaktimān, almost infinite experiences, almost omnipotent you are. The Bachhalyās are your sons from Brahm Jagdambās and their descendants only. There’s almost infinite difference in your Shaktimān and capabilities, etcetera.”
“Did he tell you something about what he wants me to consult about?”
“No,” Kħadījah Muħammad kept smiling, “Sorry. That’s a mystery.”
“What’s the mystery?”
“All he has told me is that he is willing to pay any fee reasonable to have you a buffet dinner tonight.”
“Kħadījah , you should have told Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā that I’m never a paid entertainer. We are busy people. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We have a busy schedule today already. I see clients only by appointment.”
“Kħadījah Muħammad, I…”
“As if he himself doesn’t have,”
“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has only countless bodies.”
“What?” I was startled.
“He hopes you owe him to help in keeping his present wife, Anjali Chaturvedī to him now.”
I was dumbfounded.*
Kħadījah Muħammad looked at me dubiously.
“I don’t think that BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā wants you as a social lion. He said he would like to have you get a feminine partner of your own choosing, and that he would like to have you observe a certain person and give him your impression of that person.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Yet Kaliyug has its projection still now for 4, 27, 000 years. Don’t forget it. It’s essential.”
“How the hell can I? It’s disturbing us most frequently everywhere.”
Kħadījah Muħammad flashed me a seductive grateful smile, returned to the outer office and a moment later was back with a man somewhere in his late twenties.
He had steady black eyes that flashed out from under his smart eyebrows.
It was an integral characteristic of the Bachhalyās that they were always young, handsome and powerful.
I was their father and the Brahm Jagdambās were their mothers.
Bachhalyās were always number one administrators consequently undisputedly.
The traditional Brāhmañs were the third.
The Muslims were the fourth.
Infinite BrāhmKalp lacked the other societies basically.
I smiled slightly.
“I thought so.”
“A student of character would so classify you.”
“I see. You mean you are a student of character?”
“Any trial lawyer, any politician, likes to think that he is. If he’s at all successful he has to be. Won’t you be seated?”
“Thank you, Your Excellency,”
“Sir,” he said politely, “that is one of the reasons I came to you despite my past experiences of you, are that you would again throw me to the wolves if there comes any beautiful lady that deserves protection more than I do.”
“I see. What’s the reason?”
“That’s right. I suffered from a severe heart attack and couldn’t keep my life then.”
I eyed him sympathetically.
“My family rejected me to keep me as her Sun. She needed a better Sun, you.”
“I was a damnfool then, Your Excellency,”
“Call me ‘Durgesh’. I prefer to be called thus more. If you don’t have any adverse prejudice against it, I mean.” I smiled.
“Even if the husband doesn’t care to fulfill his duties towards her?”
“Well, a family needs sacrifice if we want to keep it.”
“Sacrifice from a wife always?”
“And since Arundhatī Joshī didn’t divorce you, she ‘cheated’ you instead, you let a heart attack dominate you. What a manly step! Arundhatī Joshī was the only woman for you in the entire Multiverse? Why couldn’t you yourself divorce Arundhatī Joshī , if you felt she cheated you? Vinod Sharmā, a woman appreciates a strong man, not a man as weak as you were when you were Vinod Sharmā.”
“I accepted that I learned my lesson in the hard way, Sir. I thought you were my friend and…”
“Well, you said I should let her suck my penis, to have anal sex with her.”
“And you couldn’t do it?”
“I understand, now.”
“It’s your reincarnation, Punarjanm?”
“Sure. Who else can know more about the Bachhalyās than the original Bachhalyā that caused Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī to establish an endless Bachhalyā Empire destroying the traditional Brāhmañ Empire then forever?”
“I hate every tradition if it isn’t scientific anymore, progressive and ‘Janébhyah’.”
“There are some problems when you belong to a Bachhalyā family.”
“That’s right. But I’m telling something else.”
“I am listening to your observation.”
“I understand what you want to say.” I smiled, “You have come here from a traditional Brāhmañ family. It isn’t easy for you to plan something clandestine for the utmost brilliant Vishishŧ Brahms of your family. You want my help? Okay. Tell me what your actual problem is now.”
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