When do I begin?

A short story

 

Jaani said she wanted to sleep with another man.

Her husband was lying next to her in the dark on the double bed. They were both naked. Her arm was around his neck. The children were asleep in the next room. Her periods had ended a couple of days earlier and she had been yearning for a f**k. So, she made sure the children had their dinner, brushed their teeth, put on their pyjamas and put them to sleep.
When Vivek returned from work at 8 pm, he saw that Jaani was wearing a sleeveless red T-shirt, and tight brown capris, her a*s moving in a roly-poly manner. Her arms were smooth, her underarms were always shaved. He knew from her dress, she wanted to f**k. Otherwise, she would wear shapeless nighties. She would have continued to do so, but he told he needed stimulation to get hard.
"I am not a machine," he said, when she was horny one night and he wasn't. "After a long day's work, I need some mental stimulation before my c**k can stand."
And so, she had started wearing capris and red and yellow and green thongs. And when she wore this, he would get hard easily and would f**k her.
"The brain is the biggest sex organ in the body," he had told her
often. So, she had made sure her legs and arms were always shaved, she did a facial now and then. She also shaved her p***y, and all because he told her he liked shaved c***s. He had seen these smooth c***s in the porno sites he had seen on the web.
Once in his inbox, he received a picture of Britney Spears getting out of a limousine, wearing a short skirt with no underwear and her c**t exposed to the world. He had remembered that because it was
completely shaved, it looked like a sweet c**t. A vulnerable c**t. A sensitive c**t. Probably, a c**t that belonged to an artist.
And without any protest, Jaani had shaved. When she expressed her apprehensions at him seeing so much of porn, Vivek said, "The images stimulate my brain. At the end of the day, what is most important is that you are getting a f**k."
She thought over what he said and agreed he made sense. Yes, she liked to get fucked, she liked the feel of the c**k inside, her husband on top of her, now sucking her tongue, now her n****e, licking the side of her neck, her earlobes, her chin, her forehead. She particularly enjoyed his grunting and the moaning as he thumped his way to an orgasm.

But what she liked most of all was when she got on top on him and rode him fast, so that she could ride into an orgasm herself. It eased up the stress in her body and her mind, when her clitoris throbbed. There was an opening up, an expansiveness of feeling and a surge of happiness when the orgasm exploded inside her.

They fucked regularly although they had been married 15 years. So, it was something of a surprise to him when she said she wanted to sleep with another man.
"Why?" he asked, as he twirled a tendril of her hair with his
fingers. They were both staring at the ceiling, her c**t wet and
wide, his c**k still in the wet, pink skin of a Kama Sutra condom, the sperm resting in a blob at the bottom. It had been a brief session of love making.
"Because I have slept with only one man in my entire life and that is you. And because I want to know the feeling of another c**k inside me. I want this man to f**k me hard. Real hard. Then I would like to get on top and f**k him and get many orgasms."
He understood several things from what Jaani said: he was not able
to give her many orgasms. His c**k was not long or thick enough. He did not f**k her hard enough. And when she got on top and began to ride up and down, he almost always had to stop her, to prevent a premature ejaculation. 'It is not easy being a man,' he thought to himself.
"Who do you have in mind?" he asked.
"No one in particular," she said, after a pause. "Perhaps a foreigner. Then there is no complications, no emotional entanglements."
He was silent. He wondered whether she had anyone in her mind. He wondered whether when she was not busy, she was having sexual fantasies. His wife was changing right in front of his eyes. She told him that sometimes when she was idle in the afternoons, she would masturbate.
When they had married, she had been raw and innocent. It was an
arranged marriage. He lived in Delhi, she was born and brought up in Kerala. She had no idea of sex. In fact, she amazed him by telling that she had never masturbated. At that time he taught her the rudiments of sex, where the clitoris was, they searched together for the G spot, sometimes he touched it with his fingers, sometimes, he missed it. He licked her down there. She became flushed and embarrassed. She felt it was a dirty thing to do.

This was one reason why she took years to suck his c**k. She did not believe him when he said that the mouth had more germs than the c**k.  

A few years later, he did come across an article on the net stating this, and forwarded it to her and she had reluctantly accepted the theory. It had been such a long journey of discovery of her body.
And now she had grown up fast, no wasting time, time to play catch up.
And here she was, wanting another c**k. He kept silent. He did not
know what to say. He was scared that once she got a taste of another c**k, she might abandon him, notwithstanding the two children they had. He was afraid that once she got the taste of another man, she would not be able to stop. That was how it was: cross the Rubicon and you can't go back. You have to move ahead and the consequences would be fatal for their marriage. Yes, he also liked to f**k other women.
Since his wife was tall, he had fantasies of humping a doll-like
woman. Someone whom he could grasp firmly, who was much shorter than him, easier to get blow jobs, he had thought once upon a time. He yearned for a threesome, stuck between two women, one on top, one below. Sometimes, one could suck his c**k and the other could caress his n*****s with her tongue. It would have been fun, but he had never dared and there had been no opportunities. He was too scared to make any fantasy a reality. He liked it the way it was: a fantasy. He did not want to complicate his life.
"Why are you silent? Why don't you say yes? You always wanted to f**k other women. From the beginning of our marriage, you would speak only of that. Now when I want to f**k other men, why are you silent?"

It spilled out, question after question, and he thinks, ‘What do I reply? The chickens were coming home to roost.' All his past karma was catching up with him.
"It is better that all this remains a fantasy," he said, getting up
from the bed and heading towards the bathroom. She watched him move across on bare feet.
"You are a coward," she said, a half smile on his face. He could not see all that clearly in the darkness. He did not say anything. Instead, he went in and took out the condom, washed it and later, poured water over his body. His face was flushed, his heart was racing.
Later, when he came outside, he saw that she had left the room. The only sign that something had taken place was in the ruffled sheets and the pillows all askew on the bed. He left the room and saw that she had also gone in to have a bath in the other bathroom.

What would happen in future? Would she pester him to allow her to sleep with another man? He was not sure. He regretted all those casual suggestions he had given her and how he had criticised her love-making for so many years. Now, she was realising he was not that good in bed. There could be others who could pump and pump, without coming. She had read all those erotic stories on the porn sites. It has be true, at least some of them, she had thought.  
She came out of the bathroom, wearing a blue nightie, and they got into bed silently and went to sleep with their children.

Reviews

[joita shah]

Very transparent