Lust for the married woman

Hi, My name is Amit. This is story about the evolution of an introverted, diffident and shy boy with high morals and strong set of values into a man of loose character and high libido. It is also a story about my penchant for matured women. It is as much about me as it is about sex and prurience which the single reason I have chosen to take the effort and put it here for consumption of like minded people who I feel have been separated by social constructs. I say ‘people’ and not men as I know that there are several genuine women who parse through these stories trying to find their lives in one of them. With out further ado I shall move on to the story that took place in over a year of my life.

Background

I studied to a non co-ed boarding school for several years of my life and there after joined a job where I was to spend the next four years with minimal interaction with the female sex. I had this perverse notion of wanting to meet these lovely creatures from another world all the time and yet when I by chance encountered one, there resulted a inexplicable shift as desire turned into disdain and I turned holier than thou assuming false high ground. I got into a mixture of whimsical imagination and wishful thinking where I would believe self to possess charms of Shah Rukh Khan and personality of Akshay Kumar. I in those few moments would elevate myself to nothing short of Adonis in my own skewed perspective and look down on the laity and abhor the unlucky lady was had probably in her kindness assumed me to be ‘normal’. My own perverted pride prevented me from even looking at such females which ironically was something I always secretly wanted. So you get the idea of what a warped piece of creation I was. In retrospect I feel, it was probably my immaturity that was the result of years of seclusion from the society as we know that resulted in morphing my unique thought process.

I remember that as a child of 8 I had a constant erection during the Morning Prayer at the school. I used to stick my crotch to the bench ahead to hide it yet, surprise surprise! I masturbated for the first time when I was 17. Such a taboo was the subject of sex and anything related to it that proper knowledge was difficult to obtain. Speculation, self doubts and seedy books were our sources of self discovery. No wonder I never knew what had happened when I occasionally woke up with soiled pyjamas. On another occasion during a scuffle with a effeminate friend of mine, I attained a raging hard on and was in the unenviable position of either getting bashed by him or rubbing my hard on to in the process of pinning him down. Such were the predicaments of life in a Hermit Kingdom. Those of you who have studied in boarding schools of yore might be able to associate with this. I do not expect to impress the younger lot who must have lost their childhood to internet was earlier.

There came a point in my life when I realised that I wasn’t growing into a Shah Rukh or Akshay and was destined to be an ordinary looking normally built fellow. My peers were probably kind to not tell me in detail what they thought of me. But I always felt that I must have been the worst looking guy for I secretly believed that yet never admitted it to anyone else. It’s much later in life that I began appreciating other guys for their looks or other attributes. At one point I realised the notion of finding ‘DDLJ’ kind of love was improbable in my lifetime. My confidence touched new lows when I realised that my parents detested my looks and my sister wasn’t particularly having me about her in her college when I paid her a chance visit. My detachment from my family had begun. The devil in me was being born. My transformation had begun.

While friends about me came with abounding stories of their exploits with girls and women, I had little to show other than my fascination for their stories, which was followed my instant contempt. I had turned 21 and was earning a decent salary for those days and yet I had no girl in sight. A fortuitous encounter, thanks to a friend of mine resulted in I and he sharing a hotel room with 2 aunties who had travelled 5 hrs to meet him(one of them was his chat friend). I joined them and I had my first sexual encounter. It slowly began to sink in me that pleasing a woman was so much a nobler and safer activity than luring young girls with promises of marriage and bedding them. My romance with the married woman had begun.

I did not strictly limit myself to married woman and tried all avenues to get closer to a girl in the real sense. I used to chat away on the internet to glory. I became adept at it. At one point it had begun giving me lots of satisfaction of companionship and I was beginning to be pulled away from my penchant for ‘Aunties’. Internet afforded people like me the ideal platform where one did not have to look handsome and just had to exercise his mind and use good words. I began liking this new turf and mastered it over the next few years. In 2006 I became member of the new networking site. I found in this one a woman who I fell in love with. But this is not the story about her. She shares with me too sacred a relation to put it here. She is way older than me and a mother of two children. That should suffice for the moment.

Bewitching Mrs

At 27, I got transferred to a city in southern state of Kerala. There were bewitching beauties around but the orthodox culture and my lack of confidence were the impediments in ensuring I found a girl here. I resorted to the internet and joined a community online. I made several married woman from all over the country my internet buddies. They found me eloquent, trustworthy and good to chat with. My relatively well known Company Profile also added to my credibility. I charmed them with my quick wit and flowing language. But time was always at premium and I had a different aim. I soon got to know that I was going to be transferred out to Maharashtra as my work in Kerala was almost over. I started working on the contacts from the city I was getting to.

I short listed two of them and began building circle of trust with them. One of them was a Christian woman of 35 years and happily married to a man she loved.(I’ll call her Julie) She had a wonderful daughter she adored. We began chatting occasionally. In the mean time I joined work at the new city. This woman had taken a sabbatical from her job as VP of a Bank and her husband had just gifted her a Honda Civic. So she was way above my social structure but intellectually we weren’t much different. I tried to gauge her married life but she was always on top of things with tongue in cheek expressions and emphatically conveyed her satisfaction with her married life.

I was fighting a losing battle. With life getting busier in the new place, chatting wasn’t easy and Julie wasn’t ready to share her number with me. I used to scrap her from my mobile phone internet and try to be in touch. She had a huge list of over 150 friends and I thought she must be the kind of woman who are easy to befriend but difficult to get any further with. On the 6th chat session we had, I got the first signs of hope where in she let herself give in to my trusting nature and also began speaking freely of her small differences with her husband of over 7 years and who was also a friend of over 15. So this was going to be an unprecedented challenge for me. Chances were slim that I could be trusted in few moths time by this woman over a man she has lived with for several years.

She always made sure I was kept guessing but I dared not cross my limits as all it took to spoil your reputation with a trusting friend was a moment of madness. While I used to have a hard on chatting with her I never let my emotions turn into words and destroy the budding relationship. In my opinion, For every 100 men there are about 5 women in chat rooms, of the 100 there are 90 who do not even know how to form good sentences. All of the remaining 10 are online to find either love or sex yet only five will succeed in chatting with a girl and only one will be able to chat again with the same girl. With such odds stacked against you, one needs to be a real warrior when it comes to his words to make any sort of decent impression on a girl. But I was beyond chat rooms here. I had adopted a different route; the one of community and scraps.

I got a call from a telephone booth from Julie the one day. I had been insisting on hearing her voice for a long time now. She had finally relented. As a corporate woman she had had done lot of shouting and hence had developed a husky voice. I was measured in my response and spoke gently congratulating her on her attractive voice. She wouldn’t buy it completely but did respond by thanking me back. It took two more weeks before she messaged me from her mobile phone and I got to know her number. Text messaging is such an amazing concept and that was going to be my channel of communication now. We began greeting each other with good mornings and good nights. It went on like this for a while. I was hesitant and she was too smart a woman to not take offence if I made any kind of hints more than the acceptable norm between a married woman and another unmarried man. I used to sometimes send double entendre messages which she deftly steered clear of. I realised folly of this activity only later.

About two weeks later she was to come to my part of the town. I urged her to find time and she did not promise anything. When the assigned day arrived, it is then that the folly of my earlier decision to get her raunchy on the phone began to seem fool hardy. No woman likes to be seen as loose or easy and the moment sexually charged messages get exchanged on phone it is a clear indication of her having been relegated to that role. Hence all going well, the woman one should desire would not fall in this category. I began to thank her in my heart for having avoided and overlooked my double meaning messages and hence made this meeting possible. It would amount to infidelity if a woman meets a man she has been texting sleazy messages to. Hence no well meaning woman would want this to happen.

We finally met at a restaurant along the marina. It was not the kinds I usually go to but wasn’t too expensive to burn a hole in my pocket either should she accept my proposal of paying the bill. She had been driven to office here and came to see me in a taxi during the break. I took a half day break by making up some excuse at the office to make it here. She was dressed in an informal skirt and coat. I tried to catch the disappointment in her eyes on seeing me but I did not find it. My frayed nerves had a sigh of relief. I have put up a few pictures of mine at my profile online but they show me better and probably bigger than I actually am and in one of them I stand bare on a beach with my fair hairless chest and my shapely abs showing.

The combined effect hence of the pictures draws away the attention from my acne scarred face. We spoke excitedly about her work and mine for the next few minutes after which I ordered lunch for us. It was non-veg for her and veg for me. I like to flaunt my vegetarian leanings these days. I was so happy to have met this successful woman after these days of hard work. It’s not about her being successful. It’s about us striking a common chord a certain level. She took her time to trust me and I took my time to woo her. But all this is probably at a sub-terrainian level. We never speak these things out they reside in our deeper selves.

She bid me good bye as I extended my hand to shake hers. I feared a rejection but thankfully she extended hers. I held her delicate hand a brief moment longer than I intended and hoped the message would be passed. She smiled and said good bye. I would know the result by the evening. If she called me back to thank or say something else it would mean that she at some level liked me, else it would be a lost cause. I have met couple of women like this and have been rejected even after having hosted a sumptuous dinner in roof top garden in one of cases. But it was also because I was abrupt and had not known that woman for even a week.

I did receive a text message from Julie in the evening about how nice it was to have met. She got busy with work the next few days. After about a week she visited the part of town again. I invited her in the evening but she had to get back and hence it was not going to be possible. I was dejected and let alone my plan of cooking up another story at the office to leave early. I was about to leave for my daily dose of run and swim in the evening when I received a message from Julie indicating that she hadn’t left the locale as her business had kept her busy . I almost jumped out of my shoes. An immediate invitation was extended to her for the evening. My mind began wandering on the possibilities and means to make them happen. I was getting ahead of myself here.

She would have to return home at some time to a waiting husband and daughter. I did not want to sound desperate and my voice would have betrayed me. Hence, I chose to send a detailed message giving her the options. One was a walk along the marina, two was a movie and three a visit to our company club and restaurant that’s located in the posh district of the city. I did not want the third option to be selected as it would mean getting into familiar territory with a older woman by my side and I would be obliged to introduce her to anyone I knew I happened to run into. But that’s the option she selected.

I called up couple of buddies I have, to borrow their cars as I do not have my own. In fact I have recently sold off my bike also. Car was not to happen as they were out of reach at that moment. I borrowed a bike from someone I knew. I dressed up in one of the nicer shirts I have and one of the smart trousers I always wear, as the sun began finish his journey for the day and clock was about to strike 7.

By the time I reached the assigned spot it was twilight. Again I looked for disappointment in the eyes of the woman who was used to travelling in a Civic. I didn’t find it. Suddenly it occurred to me that she was going to be sitting on the pillion seat and that brought various possibilities. I offered her ride on the bike to one of the popular promenades before we went ahead with the scheduled plan with a sense of guilt that comes when one has little to offer. She read my body language and asked in a rather condescending tone if it was safe. I assured her the same. And up she was sitting behind me with both her legs on one side. I did not want to be too intrusive yet suggested that it was safer to sit astride. She said it’s better for the child and said it’s ok.

I was puzzled and began to navigate through the traffic. It is then that it occurred to me that she was looking like having put some weight since last meeting and I supposed she was pregnant. I immediately reduced my speed and got more conscious. Thoughts of feeling her breasts touch me and other such ideas took a back seat as I began to rearrange my thoughts to put things in perspective. This began to affect my focus on driving and I narrowly missed a slowing bike. Midway, I suggested to her that the traffic was bad and hence it made sense to go ahead and visit the lush green lawns of my company club and the sea face rather than struggle here in the traffic. She nodded in agreement. My breathing had slowed by the knowledge of a third person sitting on the bike. I developed cold sweat by the mixture of emotions that were swirling in my mind. I get vertigo at the thought of child birth yet I love little children. I gathered myself and slowly the feeling passed. We arrived in the premises after the necessary security checks. Time was 7.45 and she had to catch the 9Pm train at least.

As we alighted the bike, she called on her phone to inform her husband that she was with her friend Amit. She seemed to have told him about me beforehand. I was expecting that. Woman legitimise their relations by keeping their husbands informed as that way the relationship remains limited to friendship or so they think. This is a trick that women have learnt from men over a period of time. Several cases of puppy love blossoming about in the boardrooms of corporate houses between married people and their often unmarried peers sometimes threaten their marriages when more is made out of them. Kept in limits, this offers them a kind of release that prevents these people from getting in to an all out affair which can destabilise their lives.

We began walking along the dimly lit lawns. My hand brushed hers ever so briefly. I saw through the corner of my eyes for her response. Nothing. She began talking about the wonderful manicuring that had been done in the lawns; our fingers brushed again. I began explaining to her the area in a gentle tone as if to resonate with the mood set by the dim lighting. At the distance, the promenade housed the main restaurant of the club where several tables were set and chatter could be heard in a backdrop of the sea swelling to the oncoming monsoons. I was wondering if feelings were swelling up in her heart as well as they were in mine. My lower body was tense as my breathing was slow and I was holding on to the blood flow to my organ lest it should show up. I let my hand brush her more often but I was scared that she might just call off the evening in a huff and leave. Silent prayers escaped my lips as I wanted her to show one sign that would allay my uncontrollable nerves. I noticed that she had quietly let me take over the control of conversation. She having been a VP of bank is well read, street smart and surely capable to stopping people like me right at their heels but she didn’t. Was that the sign I was looking for? I chose to believe it so.

We kept walking. As we approached a lamp post and I increased the distance between our hands. As we passed it I came closer again. The situation had become very uncomfortable. Words had dried up. It was silent slow walk with tension that was ripping me apart. My heart began beating louder. I couldn’t take it any more. I brushed her hands harder this time giving up this game that I no longer could play but she did not budge and kept looking straight. I mustered courage to turn my head to the right and look at her profile. She turned towards me after half a second and by then my courage had subsided. I looked back straight. I gathered myself again and looked towards her again, she turned instantly. I swallowed. I turned looking ahead again. For first time I heard her breathe. Was it the silence or was it my imagination? I stopped as I nudged her softly signalling her to stop. I would be doomed if she didn’t stop but she did. Oh god, it was happening.

The moment that I had thought all the while was here. The bond of intimacy seemed to have taken its roots. I just had to not fuck it up from here. I failingly tried to retain a control of my breathing. We were looking straight and standing silently. Something had to be done before the moment passed. I raised my palm and opened it as if asking her to place her hand in mine and at the same time turned my head by a small angle to keep her option of not looking at me open. She stood 3 inches shorter than me. I am 5”6’. She raised her hand and placed it on mine. It was an ecstatic moment. It was a moment of achievement. It was her acquiescence to all that I had not said but meant all this while. I did not want to extend the moment beyond its durability and took one small step forward. She took the cue and followed. We lowered the hand. Her smaller and softer hand felt wonderful and gave me the feeling of possessing her. I released the grip softly and she thought I was letting it go. Before she could retract her hand completely, I held it back and tried to entwine her fingers in mine. She resisted. I tried again. She stopped and turned towards me.

“What do you want Amit?”

I wasn’t expecting this yet I mustered myself and tried to give a sane answer. I said “I want your love Julie”

“It’s not possible, Amit. I am married”

“it’s OK Julie. I understand”

I held both her hands and turned towards her. I saw her swallow. She began breathing harder. I tried to pull her closer. “Amit, it’s wrong”

“It’s OK Sweetheart. Don’t worry” I came closer. My eyes were looking into her lovely eyes. I could feel her breath on my chest. Her chest moved up and down. I said, It’s ok baby and moved closer. She began trembling. My hands were shivering as well. I felt her face getting closer against her will. She was a picture of cleaved soul. Half of her body wanted to get away the other half held her in. I moved with in centimetres of her. I took a deeper breath as I smelt her. She swallowed again. I craned closer and our lips touched. It was as if a bolt of electric current passed through her body. She began trembling uncontrollably. I put my arms around her and consoled her. It’s ok, baby. I love you, Julie. I could feel her fluttering heart beat on my chest. I had this corporate honcho who I was scared of meeting a few weeks ago in my arms fluttering like a bird seeking a gasp of air. I felt a mixture of compassion and passion.

My hand moved on her back. I felt the lines of her bra but that was not my aim. I patted her on to calm her. In the meantime, a couple came from the other side of the walkway. They must have spotted us embracing against the backdrop of the well lit promenade and restaurant but couldn’t have made out our faces. We separated and began to walk. I held Julie’s hand in my right as we passed the couple. I put my right hand around her waist and pulled her closer. I craned to kiss her neck tenderly as I did that. She had returned to normalcy by then and did not react much. I could see the moment when we could have got even closer slip by. But, that was the right thing to do. I couldn’t have let our passions make us animals and also did not wish to make her feel bad later.

She needed time to think. I would rather let her have it than make go the whole hog only to leave me with a bad taste in the mouth. I believe in fulfilling relations. Later in the evening, she called me to thank me for being considerate and sounded apologetic. She wrote an ode to and mailed it to me at tima0648 at the rate of rediffmail dot com. I reassured her that she was secure with me and I was only a friend who loved her. Our relationship blossomed and I gave her unforgettable pleasures in my company allotted one BHK which was at a stone’s throw from the club, and which I shall write about subsequently if I get a good response, this being my first mail. The keen would be able to find way to find me somewhere in the last five lines.