Rajan was not aware that the solution to the problem that was racking him was round the corner. His predicament was common enough. His wife Ganga was his housekeeper, cook, a companion of sorts, and when the occasion demanded a very good nurse, but she was not much of a wife. Rajan was not complaining that sex during the past few years was a rare event. After much persuasion she would agree, but during the act she was so sour-faced that Rajan ejaculated as quickly as possible and turned to the other side to sleep. That was something he had learnt to bear, but what really hurt was that Ganga was no longer tender towards him. In the small house in which they lived it would be difficult to avoid physical contact, but Ganga managed it. He sorely missed the touch of her hands, silky smooth in spite of housework, and her soft body against his, and her tender words. Why did she shun him? Her aversion to sex seemed to be the core of the problem. It did not occur to him that there could be other reasons, and that he may have some blame to share too. Even as he was at his desk in the municipal corporation office of Chennai with registers opened in front of him his thoughts were on the miserable life he led. What he did not know was that at the very moment Ganga, quite unintentionally, was working on a solution to his woes.
Saturday was holiday for the elementary school in which Ganga was a teacher, but she was on election duty. She had to go from house to house with a register and check the names and addresses in the electoral list and update them. It was not a difficult job. She was not unwelcome in the homes for the citizens played their role in their democratic society with enthusiasm. Moreover the advent of blocks of flats, which till recently were independent houses, made it possible for Ganga to complete her quota of fifty homes with a minimum of wandering.
She rang the bell of a fifth floor flat. The young man who answered the bell was strikingly handsome. He was tall and fair with curly hair and a charming smile. Ganga explained the purpose of her visit, and with pen poised over her open register she prepared to ask her routine questions.
The young man made a quick assessment. He decided it was worth a try. The woman was middle aged with a face that cannot launch even a catamaran, but she had a good figure and broad hips. He was without sex for almost a month and sex starved men, young or old, are not too finicky in their choice of women. Availability is their key word.
“Please come in,” said the young man.
“That won’t be necessary; after all it may not take more than a minute or two to make the alterations,” she said.
“It is a hot day, and to sit under a fan may not be a bad idea. You are quite winded.”
“Yes, I am a bit breathless” she said, “I thought I need not take the lift from floor four to five.”
“We often make that mistake too. Rarefied air maybe.” He laughed. She came in and took a seat. “So you want to check if the particulars in your register need alteration.”
“That’s correct. Raghavan must be your father.”
“I have to alter the age. Anything else needing change.” She read the particulars.
“What is his age now?”
“Sixty five.” She corrected his age as well as his wife’s.
“Who is Suman?”
“I am Suman. Age currently twenty eight.”
“No change.” She looked up quizzically. “Most probably for the next check five years from now it would be the same too.”
“Must be my stars. Could I offer a drink?” She thought for a while.
“Water may be.”
“If possible.” He produced a bottle and a tall tumbler. Suman watched her as she drank the water. He estimated her age to be in the late thirties. Her nose was flat; she had prominent teeth, and large bulbous eyes. Not pretty, but she was not without some charm. Suman attributed it to her eyes that in addition to being large were bright. She helped herself to two full tumblers.
“You must have been very thirsty.” She nodded.
“Any more questions?”
“No,” she said preparing to leave.
“Please, not so soon. May I ask some questions?”
“You know a lot about myself. You have to return the compliment.” She smiled faintly.
“It does not follow, but you can ask”
“Your name.” She hesitated, and then answered.
“Can you tell me the only river that is male?”
“Brahmaputra.” She smiled; just a suggestion of a smile. “If you should ask me the names of the capital city of the all the states I can answer that, and many others questions of that sort too,” she said. “I have been a teacher for 18 years.”
“Eighteen? Then you must have started when eleven.” She laughed.
“Thanks for the compliment. Well I got in when I was twenty-one.
“You don’t look that. Your large bright eyes make you look youthful.”
“Yes my eyes are indeed large. One doctor actually suspected thyroid disease.”
“Eye lashes bayburt escort are long too.” Ganga flicked her eyelashes with her index finger as if to test the length of the lashes. She rearranged the pallav of her sari to hide her generous valley.
“Don’t do that,” said Suman.
“Cover yourself. You have such a nice figure.” She became agitated. She rose.
“I must be going.”
“Please don’t. The whole day I have been alone. Mom and Dad are away to be with my sister in Delhi. I can chat, and you can rest.”
“I am in a hurry. I have to do more houses and then get home in time to receive my children back from school.”
“You mean you have a daily quota?”
“Are you ahead or behind your quota?”
“You are actually working your next day’s quota.”
“In that case you can go home straight from here. Do you like teaching?”
“I do, very much.”
“What are the ages of your pupils?”
“Nine and ten.”‘
“Boys and girls?”
“It is a girl’s school, but we have boys in the lower classes.”
“Boys I believe can make a nuisance of themselves with their mischief.”
“I like the mischievous ones. They are so cute.”
“In that case if I had been your pupil I might have been a favourite of yours.”
“Were you that bad?”
“Good you should have said?” She laughed for the first time.
“Good indeed. If I like them then they must be good.” Once again Ganga readjusted her pallav that had gone awry.
“Don’t do that please.” She looked up. “This time OK, but not again,” he said. His voice was soft and pleading.
“I think I will go,” she said collecting her register from the table.
“Please don’t. It’s so nice talking to you. Please put back the book.” She did so slowly, keeping eye contact all the time as if she was on guard. “Think of me as one of your mischievous pupils and take a liking for me.” She kept on the eye contact. The large eyes were expressionless.
“Do you know that we mischievous boys like the teachers we bother? The more we trouble them in the class the more we like them. One day I troubled a teacher to exasperation in the class. When I went home for lunch I took a whole slab of chocolate that I could hardly afford to give away and hid in among by books. That evening I waylaid the teacher on her way home, apologised for the trouble I had caused, and gave the chocolate. She looked at me, she smiled and bent down and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Keep the chocolate,’ she said. I must have blushed furiously for she tweaked my cheek. ‘You can be good too,’ she said. Have any of your pupils given you chocolate?”
“Many have but not the way you did. They distribute chocolates on their birthdays”
“Have you kissed any of them?”
“No.” She laughed. “But that is not to say that I would not have if an opportunity had offered.”
“Has any pupil kissed you?”
“No,” she said. Her sari had gone awry again and instinctively her hand went towards it.
“Hmmm,” said Suman. She smiled and took her hand away. Suman expected her to do that. In addition to being handsome he had a lot of charisma. Not many women could resist him when he turned on the full force of his charm upon them. She darted a glance at her valley and then she looked up. Suman’s eyes were on the valley. Once again her hand went to the pallav, but she took her hand away and smiled. Yes, he was indeed a very handsome fellow. Much more so than many of the film stars she fantasised about. Why not humour him? Her heart thudded at the thought.
“You want to see more?” she said hospitably. Suman nodded so vigorously that there was danger of dislocating his neck. She removed the pallav altogether.
“Magnificent,” said Suman. He seemed not satisfied that the word did justice to what he was witnessing. “Glorious,” he added. He got up and boldly went up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “A pupil has finally kissed you.” He then did something that no pupil would have done. He held her chin and turned her face towards him and pecked her on the lips. She did not respond, but she did not object either. He placed one hands on her breast and gently kneaded.
“Please don’t,” she said, but she did not resist. He kissed her neck and then he boldly unhooked her blouse.
“Please Suman, please don’t,” she said. Her voice was hoarse. He undid her bra clasp and exposed her breasts.
“Oh! Wonderful,” he said, as indeed they were. He kneaded them. “The nipples are just perfect. I would be failing in my duty if I do not do it the honours.” He went down on his knees and took a tit between his infolded lips and bit vigorously.
“Please don’t Suman,” she said as she moved restlessly. She placed a hand under the breast and lifted it up, and with her other hand she caressed him on the back of his head. As Suman worked on her nipple she moaned and then she took hold of his head and moved it to the other nipple. Suman was gradually working himself bartın escort to frenzy. She turned towards the door. Suman said the latch was on. He tried to remove the blouse and bra but she would not allow. She held his hands but did not resist. He held her by the shoulders and made her lie on the sofa. He gently lifted up her sari and skirt. He wondered if she had knickers on, but she did not. Her vulva lay exposed. He liked it for the wide expanse of the labia minora. In his extensive experience he had never seen labia minora that hung in folds. He held it delicately and gave it a gentle shake as if it were a curtain. He took a closer look. It was almost an inch at its widest point. It looked at it with fascination. The clitoral hood was also lying in folds. He pulled it back. Her clitoris was not a worm head as most in his experience were, but a knob of some size. He then pronounced judgement.
“I tell you truthfully that if there is a beauty contest for vulva it would take a massive effort to beat yours.”
“Don’t talk like that. It is ugly”
“Why are women ashamed of their vulva. We men think it is lovely.”
“Please Suman I have to reach home soon.”
He then undressed fully. Ganga almost gasped. Tall, and athletic, his exercise trained muscles quivered under his skin. The muscles in front of his abdomen stood out like bundles; his hip was narrow, and then that crowning glory, the dense black bush of his pubic hair and the long penis not quite fully erect yet, and the testicles that were large and globular. To Ganga it was quite a stunner. He came forward and knelt down beside her. He brought his penis, now erect and throbbing, close to her mouth. She opened her mouth wide to receive him. She took in the glans and then plopped it out. Even as she was doing so she was full of remorse for all her married life her husband had wanted just that and she had strenuously refused him, and now she was taking this stranger’s penis in her mouth. He was now kneeling on the carpet between her thighs kissing her vulva. He licked her. He liked the taste of her secretions, which in her excitement she was pouring in fair amounts. She pulled him up and spreading her thighs she held his penis. She played with the foreskin for a while, and then she inserted it.
They had orgasms together. They were lying side by side in a close embrace, but she was sobbing as if she has lost some dear one. Suman was visibly worried. This was behaviour he had never encountered before.
“I want to wash,” she said between her sobs as she got up. Suman held her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. She stood placidly still sobbing miserably. He lifted her sari and asked her to hold it and spread her thighs. As he washed her she sobbed. He wiped her and led her back to the room. She continued to sob. Other than hold her in a tender embrace Suman did nothing to assuage her grief. She buttoned her blouse and rearranged her sari. He hugged and kissed her at the door; she passively accepted his attentions. She was more composed now.
“Please Suman, please do not attempt to see me, never, ever,” she said speaking for the first and only time after the event, and without a backward glance, and ignoring the wide open door of the elevator, she hurriedly walked down the steps. From the balcony Suman saw her walk on the road and take an auto. He had not used a condom. She had not asked for one either. He knew from the scar below her umbilicus that she was sterilised, but disease? He was concerned. He went hurriedly to the bathroom and washed himself with soap. He tried to recollect her name. He could not. The next day even the incidence was only a distant memory. Young men who have casual affairs do not bother to expend thought on the consequences of their actions on the women. If Suman had, he would have been surprised that for once a bad deed resulted in good.
In the auto back home Ganga wiped her eyes as tears continued to flow, but something happened at some point during the ride. Her emotions stabilised, her eyes were dry and once again bright, and when she got off her walk had a spring to it. Ganga bathed and in the dressing room she inspected her naked body in the mirror. She was not happy with the scruffiness of her pubic region. She re-entered the bathroom and shaved with her husband’s razor to smoothness. She inspected her vulva. She lifted up the folds of her labia minora. She was never happy about their size. It was so different from that of her mother’s and sisters’. Her youngest sister called it bat’s wings. But Ganga was never really bothered about it. She smiled at the recollection of the tribute paid by Suman; frankly what she saw in the mirror was not championship material. She put on a blouse without a bra, and tied her sari but without a skirt. She powdered lightly and applied lipstick almost invisibly. She stood before the dressing table mirror. She was satisfied with her looks. It was a few minutes past two. She sat on the sofa and ığdır escort opened a magazine. She was waiting for her husband’s return. She was ready to put into practice the decisions she had made on the ride back home.
The doorbell rang. Ganga went to the door and opened it. It was Rajan. Ganga closed the door, latched it, and then hugged him.
“Ganga, what happened? Has your fairy godmother changed you with a wave of her wand?
“She has. She told me that I am young and full of verve, and that I must show it in everything I do.” They hugged again, and kissed passionately on the lips.
“Everything you do? Is a second honeymoon on the agenda?”
“It is item one.”
“Then we have it tonight.” He spoke somewhat hesitantly. Ganga’s long continued opposition to sex had made him rather unsure that she was capable of change.
“Tonight? I thought you would want it now. I do.”
“Oh! That’s wonderful. Wait till I change.”
“Why change?” she said. Rajan pinched himself. He was not hallucinating. Ganga withdrew into the bedroom and Rajan followed. She went into the bathroom, and he undressed to nakedness. With an effort he restrained himself from wrapping a lungi round his waist. The bathroom room door opened and she appeared in her birthday suit. Rajan goggled. It was years since he had seen her that way in daylight. She was standing in full frontal nudity with a mischievous smile on her face. He was focussing on her smooth shaved vulva. She ran her hand over it.
“You like it smooth,” she said. He was too stunned to speak
“I want to see it close,” he said in an emotion packed voice. She sat on a cane easy chair and lifted her legs and rested her knees, one on each arm of the chair. Rajan knelt down. He kissed her vulva, and then he moved his hands over it; he took one inner leaf and then the other, and with both hands opened the leaves. Ganga watched him with tender amusement. He too admired her vulva, but his wife did not think that he viewed it with the eyes of a connoisseur, and she was right. His knowledge was restricted to this one specimen. He could not be aware that his wife’s possession was unusual. He lifted the clitoral hood and gently squeezed out the resident. With his tongue he first touched it once, and then he give one tentative lick. Ganga moved her hips and gently moaned.
Suddenly she thought of something she had to do.
“Before you proceed further take a sample of what is in store for you tonight” she said, “Stand up for it.” She used the peremptory tone teachers use in school. He stood up, as promptly as any pupil of hers would have done. She held his penis and brought her mouth close to it. She looked up, smiled and took it fully into her mouth as deep as it would go without making her gag. She pulled it out and plopped the glans in and out half a dozen times, and gently blew it out with a slurping sound.
“You have waited long for this. You have to wait a couple of hours more. Tonight we have that, but now lick me and then enter me.” He liked her dirty talk. He had pleaded for it but now when it came it was music to his ears. Rajan was more aroused than he has ever been before. He flung himself on her with abandon and licked till she moaned with pleasure and then they had it. She was on the point of going over the edge when tears started pouring in torrents. It was as if she was in the throes of an indescribable grief. But she responded in full measure, and then by a gesture she wanted him to wait and then she signalled a second and then a third orgasm. All the while she was weeping. They lay with husband holding his wife by her head, consoling her. The doorbell rang and they got up and changed in a hurry to let their little children in from school.
Ganga was on the sofa and the children, both girls, aged eight and six sat in front of their mother doing their homework. Rajan was on his easy chair with newspaper in hand. He was not reading. He was sorely disturbed.
Rajan was capable of incisive thinking. He sought an explanation for the complete transformation his wife had undergone in a matter of hours. He soon had a hypothesis that answered all questions: It could only be owing to a sexual adventure earlier that day. Somewhere during her travel from house to house correcting her register entries someone with irresistible attraction had seduced her. In remorse for having been unfaithful to her husband she was giving him all, and it was the feeling of guilt that made her weep uncontrollably. It would not be difficult for Rajan to find where she had her adventure. It could only be the last house she visited that afternoon. No way could she have continued her house visits after an experience of that sort. As a tax collector for that division he knew all the residents in the street she had visited. He just had to check the entries she had made in her register that day and he would know. Then what? Confront him and shoot him? No way. Thank him? He deserved his heartfelt thanks anyway. Rajan smiled. No, it was the doing of a fairy godmother. Good can come only out of fairies and gods, not playboys. He was on to a good thing and he was determined to enjoy it without restraint. Ganga looked up. Their eyes met. They smiled. With a looping motion of her index finger she reminded him of their programme for the night.