0 comments/ 68966 views/ 4 favorites The Routine By: Leslie Mike couldn't wait to get home. Working third shift at his new job was tiring, but he would be able to get on another shift soon. He looked at his watch, and he knew it would only be another few minutes before he got to Ron and Lisa's house. They were friends of his wife, Jeannie, and he was staying with them until they moved to the new city he was working in. Both Ron and Lisa were teachers, and very well respected in the community. They were not nearly as wild as Mike and Jeannie, but very nice, nonetheless. Mike had the guest bedroom, which also had it's own private bath, and although he missed Jeannie, he was living comfortably. He never really saw much of Ron and Lisa, due to the fact that they worked different shifts, and at night they were always busy with extra school activities. Things were working out quite well, but he missed Jeannie terribly. It was the first time they had been away from each other in the ten years they had been married, and Mike thought of her constantly. He had been away from her for two weeks now, and would not see her until Friday, when she was finally getting some time off from her nursing job to visit him. And what a two weeks it had been for Mike. He never thought he would miss her as much as he did. They had a great sex life together, always experimenting with new and exciting ways to make love. Jeannie was quite the submissive one, and was willing to do anything he asked of her. Sex was never boring between them. But being away from her for an extended period of time was stirring feelings in Mike that he never knew existed. He had always possessed a high sex drive, but being away from Jeannie was beginning to be a very stressful time. Perhaps being alone in that huge house for eight hours a day, with only the minor inconvenience of Lisa popping in for lunch at times, was part of the reason he was so incredibly horny. Mike was masturbating three times a day, and it had become quite addicting. He was staying up throughout the day, usually making himself cum at least twice in that time and jacking off again at night in the shower before he left for work. His cock was constantly hard, and it beckoned him to touch it. He was resisting the temptation when he was at work, but when he would get to Ron and Lisa's, he could never defy his urges. Nor did he want to. As Mike pulled into the driveway, he could already feel his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers in a semi-erect state. He let himself in the house, and hurried upstairs to the guestroom. He quickly stripped nude, and stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner. His reflection showed a man that would make any woman melt. He was 6'2", a solid 200 pounds, wavy black hair to his shoulders, a furry patch of hair on his chest, and a gorgeous eight-inch cock. He looked at himself, and felt attracted to his own reflection. His erection stood straight out from his body, pulsing to the beat of his heart. His shaved balls were tight against his body, and the cool air felt good against them. He began to pose, flexing his arms and legs while staring at the reflection of his cock in the mirror. It was if he was posing for Jeannie. Mike pulled himself away from the mirror, and moved to his closet. He knelt down on his knees, and once more looked at the box containing Jeannie's photos. He considered looking at them again, but he couldn't help but stare at the stack of magazines sitting next to the box. Mike had never been into pornography, but in the last week he had bought twenty-three different magazines, ranging from Playboy and Penthouse, Cheri and Club, to the more underground bondage style. Jeannie loved to be tied up, and this helped with his thoughts of her in this way. Mike snatched up the magazines, and laid them on the bed. He sat with his legs crossed, and slowly paged through each magazine, loving how his cock felt in his hands. Several times he brought himself just to the edge of cumming, and then he would back off, wanting to save the feeling. He flipped the Cheri magazine over, and leaned back on the pillows on the bed. Mike had only been home an hour, and he was totally hard, but getting rather bored. He got off the bed, and walked downstairs, and began to wander around the house. The silence was deafening as he drifted, stroking his massive erection mindlessly. He thought of Jeannie sucking his cock. She always sucked him on command, whenever and wherever he pleased. How he wished she were there to suck him right now. He thought of pumping his cum down her throat. Mike closed his eyes and envisioned her full breasts surrounding his cock. He loved to titty fuck her, and then blast his cum all over her face. Mike was soon on the edge of an orgasm again. His eyes flickered open, and he took his hands off his cock. He still did not want to get off yet, and he paused at the bottom of the staircase. He looked up, and a sexy, incredible thought ran through his head. He ascended the stairs, and instead of going into his room, he walked slowly to Ron and Lisa's. It was sparkling clean and neat, and he walked all about the room. To his amazement there was a framed photo of Lisa on the main dresser, and she was on the beach, striking a sultry pose in a one-piece swimsuit. Although not nearly as attractive as Jeannie, she did have lovely breasts, and long legs to match. Her short red hair contrasted well with the white fabric of the swimsuit, and Mike began to become even more aroused. His cock felt the hardest it had ever felt in his hand, and he was panting heavily. He knew he shouldn't be in their room, much less lusting at a photo of Lisa, but he just couldn't help himself. He whirled around where he stood, and stared at what was obviously Lisa's dresser across the room. He could not resist walking over to it. One part of his mind told him to leave their room immediately; the other kept urging him on to find her lingerie. He could not resist the temptation. He wanted to feel Lisa's panties, and he would do it. He opened the top drawer, and there they were, all neatly folded in stacks. Although crazy with lust, he knew he must not disturb more than he needed. The pair on top were white, with lace, and he carefully lifted them out of the drawer. The feel of the panties made his hard dick jump, and the thoughts of cumming were difficult to resist. Mike wrapped Lisa's panties around his cock, and began to stroke faster. He was going to cum right in those white panties. Mike nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the front door slam closed. He could hear Lisa's high heels clicking up the wooden staircase, and Mike nearly went into a panic. He thought of running back down the hall to his room, but he would never make it without her seeing him. So he pushed the panties back into the drawer, and silently closed it. But he had no place to run; no place to hide. He was caught. She stopped when she saw Mike standing there, dropping her purse in shock. Mike was still standing on the opposite side of the bed, nude, and cock in hand. Neither said a word as Lisa walked over behind Mike to her dresser, and seeing the bit of the panties sticking out of the drawer, she instantly knew what he had been doing. She took her panties out, and tossed them on the bed in front of him. Mike was stunned, and he began to squeeze his cock ever so harder. He could not believe that Lisa still hadn't uttered a sound. She turned and walked slowly to the bedroom door, and locked it. Mike gawked at her, taking in the sight of her long flowered dress, her black blouse, and her conservative black pumps. His heart pounded as she finally spoke. "So, is this what you do during the day?" Mike swallowed hard. Lisa ruled the entire situation. He was either going to be in huge trouble with Jeannie, or Lisa would be cool to the entire situation, and forget about it. "Well, Lisa, this is the first time I have ever came into your bedroom." Mike stammered. "But I must admit, I have been masturbating so much lately, it is really making me crazy. I just miss Jeannie so much." "That's understandable, Mike. But I have to say I am quite upset by this, and do you realize how pissed off Ron would be?" Mike now cupped his balls with his left hand while still squeezing his cock with his right. He could see Lisa's cheeks begin to glow as she looked at his erection. "I guess so, Lisa, but I just couldn't resist my urges." "Oh, okay, I see. And you just had to find my panties. Did they feel good on that hard dick?" Her language dazed Mike. He was close to shooting off, but there was nothing he could do about it. "Yes Lisa." Mike replied. Lisa felt a quiver between her legs. Mentally, Mike was a basket case at this point. She would take advantage of the situation. "Mike, take your hands off your cock." Mike did as she asked, and looked in awe as Lisa began to unbutton her blouse. When she took it off and tossed it to the floor, Mike simply glared at the sight of her black lace bra. She then unzipped her skirt, and let it fall to the floor also. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I am giving you something to look at as you jack off, porn boy." Lisa loved to watch men masturbate, and Mike would serve her purposes well. She wore only thigh high hose, to go with her bra and heels. She wore a front-close bra, and she slowly removed it, and revealed her ample tits to Mike. "Now Mike, here is the deal I have for you. You are to be here nude every day at eleven in the morning, and you will masturbate for me. If you don't, I will tell Ron and Jeannie, and you will be out of here the next day, not to mention in hot water with Jeannie. What do you say?" Mike took a deep breath. "Agreed" he replied. "Good boy. Now, do you like how my shaved pussy looks?" "Yes Lisa" She now cupped her breasts in both hands. "And how about these?" She teased. Mike fought off the urge to grab his cock. "I love how they look" he mumbled. "Stroke your cock then." Mike grabbed his hard dick again, and stroked wildly. He would come soon, and Lisa knew it. "Just hold off, porn boy." She commanded. Lisa walked to the bathroom, and retrieved a towel and a bottle of baby oil. She then ordered Mike to kneel on the floor in front of her, which he did, and she played out the towel in front of him. She knelt opposite him, and as he stroked his cock, she began to dribble baby oil all over it. Mike groaned, and he told her he was close. "Good, now hands off!" Lisa ordered. Mike groaned again, and used all of his willpower to remove his hands from his erection. With only her mind Lisa was denying him an orgasm. Mike's cock stood up at a forty-five degree angle, the head glistened pre-cum. Large veins bulged up and down it's length. Lisa giggled, and continued her teasing. "Oh Mike, you have such a lovely cock. I bet Jeannie loves it when you fuck her. You miss her badly. You miss her wet pussy Mike. You want to fuck her so bad, and cum deep inside her." Sweat was building all over his body. Lisa began to rub her clit, and she knew she would orgasm as soon as she saw him shoot his cum. She moved along the towel, and now they were less than a foot apart. "Mike, we can't touch each other, but I want you to spray your cum all over my pussy. Understand?" Mike nodded, and once again took his cock in his right hand, supporting the weight of his body with his left. His well oiled cock slipped easily through his fist, and he could feel his orgasm begin to build. Lisa was staring; eyes wide open, at his huge cock. She held her labia open, and waited. "Do it baby" she urged. With one last stroke, Mike's cum shot through his cock. The first blast landed directly on Lisa's clit. "OOOOOHHHHHHHHHFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK." Mike yelled. Lisa's orgasm ripped through her as she watched him cum. She shrieked as she felt her body spasm, and she tossed her head back, her body shaking. The second blast of Mike's cum shot out, and he sprayed her pussy from side to side with it. Trails of wetness ran down her thighs, a mixture of Mike's cum and her own. Lisa thrusted her hips forward, and Mike shot again. This time the cum flew in the air to her naked breasts, splattering them. Another surge of pleasure racked her body. Lisa was losing control of the situation. She wailed as she looked down again to see his cum landing on her titties. Lisa tossed her head from side to side. Again Mike stroked his cock, shooting another blast skyward, this time landing on his chest. Another pound of his cock, and the last forceful stream once again landed directly on Lisa's drenched pussy. With this, Lisa drove to fingers into her steaming cunt, and fell down to her elbows, enjoying the last waves of pleasure. "Get out of here, and don't forget about tomorrow." Lisa could barely say the words. Mike stood, cum dripping down his chest. He took the time to get another towel to clean up a little, before walking to his room. He crawled in bed for his daytime sleep, and he could still here Lisa's faint moans of pleasure. Mike rolled onto his stomach, and he felt his cock slowly harden. He fantasized about fucking Jeannie as he moved his hips up and down, causing his cock to rub against the sheets. He could not wait until the next day at eleven in the morning. In a way, he was Lisa's sexual servant, and he liked the idea. Masturbation does have its advantages. The Routine *** Let me begin by saying that this is a true story. Also let me warn you that my writing style may not be to your taste; it's fairly journalistic and I tend to shy away from graphic descriptions. I assume the reader has a working imagination and can fill in any details I may gloss over. That being said, here we go... Since I know this is important to some readers, let me briefly describe myself. (Feel free to skip this paragraph if you want. It's not central to the story.) As of the time of this writing, I'm twenty-one and about to enter my final year at a small, private, southern California college. I'm majoring in English, so if you notice any mistakes... um... let's just call it artistic license, okay? I'm Asian (American-born Chinese), 5'2" tall, slim, pretty, and of course, modest. On with the show... *** Two years ago, I moved into my first apartment. Before, I had always lived either with my parents or in a college dorm, so I was excited to finally be out "on my own". My apartment was located on the top floor of the south wing of a three-story horseshoe-shaped brick apartment building. A wide stone staircase led down from my floor to the front door, spilling out onto a small courtyard. A narrow wooden stair led from the back door in my bedroom down eight flights (four stories) to the laundry room in the basement. Other apartments' back doors also opened out onto this back stairway and at ground level there was a door that led to a narrow alley that ran along the south side of the apartment building. I had never lived alone before and was excited about the freedom I now had to do exactly whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I have a very active libido and was happy that my newfound privacy allowed me more sexual freedom than I had ever known before. Finally, no parents or roommates to worry about! One of the ways I took advantage of this was by masturbating every day while lying on my bed. I usually did this in the middle of the day after I had just come back from my classes. As soon as I'd come in, I would drop off my bag and head to the bedroom to lie down for a rest. This would almost inevitably lead to my jeans being uzipped and wriggled down my hips so that I could pleasure myself. Eventually my clothes would all come off and I would lie naked on my bed masturbating myself with the big dildo that I kept in the drawer of my nightstand. (Note: For a description of this dildo, how I bought it, and it's tragic fate, please see my story "A Passing Fancy".) This soon became part of my regular routine, just like brushing my teeth or showering. Every day after class, I'd lie down and take care of my business. But satisfying yourself sexually should be anything but routine and I quickly found a way to spice up my daily ritual. There really wasn't much of a view from my bed, but one thing that I did see every day while taking care of myself was the back door to my apartment. This, of course, got me thinking and one day I decided it was time to change my routine. After returning from class that day, I undressed in my bedroom, took my dildo from its hiding place, and went to the back door. I flipped the latch and listened for a moment... not a sound! Opening the door a crack, I peeked out. The coast was clear, not a soul in sight, so I slowly swung open the door and made my way out onto the landing at the top of the stairs totally naked and carrying a twelve-inch dildo. I lay down on the landing at the top of the stairs and inserted the dildo in my pussy. (I could only fit about half of it in... I know you're wondering!) My heart was beating a mile a minute as I nervously worked myself to an intense orgasm. After I was done, I went back inside my apartment and closed the door. The danger of possibly being caught at this had definitely added to the pleasure of the act and so masturbating outside my back door soon became my new routine. I had been doing this for about a week without having been interrupted even once when I decided to get a little more adventurous. One day, I ventured out onto the landing, closed my door behind me, and crept slowly down the wooden stairs to the landing between the second and third floors. My heart was in my throat as I did this because if anyone on either the second or third floors were to come out into the stairwell, I would certainly be seen and would have to run up the stairs to get to the safety of my bedroom. Still, it gave me the excitement I was looking for, and after finishing and quietly slipping back into my apartment, I had to admit that it had been a very satisfying session. And so this became my new routine. Feeling bolder one day, I took the next step, or rather the next several steps down to the second floor, where I lay down on the landing right outside my downstairs neighbor's back door. I took extra care to be as quiet as possible and, trembling, I spread my legs wide and went to work. I felt incredibly dirty knowing that my neighbor could at any time open his door and find me impaling myself on a huge dildo, but thankfully the door remained closed and I crept back up the stairs a very satisfied customer. And, of course, this became my new routine. In the interest of shortening the story, since there is quite a bit more to tell, let me just say that over the next few weeks, I worked my way down the back stairway to the point where I was masturbating every day in the basement laundry room totally naked with my clothes in my apartment four floors above. Everyday after class, I would undress and steal naked down the back stairs to enjoy myself either on the laundry room floor or on top of the washing machines (which I highly recommend during the spin cycle), then quietly return to my bedroom. This was quite a bit more daring than what I had been doing up until this point since the laundry room was used by everyone in the building, while my stairway was used only by those in the south wing. Luckily for me, an open doorway to the laundry connected to a small utility room and on a couple of occasions I had to hide just inside while some unseen tenant checked his or her laundry. This only heightened the thrill, of course. This became my new routine and one that I remained satisfied with for several weeks. Although the laundry room was more frequently used than the back stairs, I felt safer there knowing I could hide in the utility room in a pinch. But variety is the spice of life and I soon found that I wanted to spice things up a bit. One day after returning from my classes, I began my ritual as before: I went to my bedroom, undressed myself, and grabbed the dildo from my nightstand, but on this day I had decided to try something a little different. Rather than going to the back door, I instead went to the front door of my apartment where I listened intently and the cracked the door to be sure that all was clear. It was and I stepped out onto the cold stone floor of the hallway connecting all the third-floor apartments in the south wing of the building. I lowered myself to the floor in the middle of the hall, slowly since the floor was very cold on my bare skin and began playing with myself. I was acutely aware that I could be caught at any moment if anyone on my floor happened to leave his or her apartment while I was enjoying myself. This added to the fun and after I had finished, I decided to make this my new routine. Needless to say, in the following weeks, I began working my way down the front stairs. I knew that this area was much better-traveled than the back steps since I found it necessary to cut things short on a couple of occasions when I heard footsteps on the stairs below, but I didn't let this stop me. After not very long, I was regularly lying naked on the floor, right in front of the south-wing mailboxes, working my pussy with the big dildo... all this just inside the all-glass front door that opened into the apartment's central courtyard... at about two-o'clock in the afternoon! Very reckless and very stupid! And I soon realized this. I had nearly been caught on several occasions and had fled naked up the six flights of steps that led from the south-wing entrance to my front door. I knew it was only a matter of time until someone would catch me. So I stopped. But I did have one final adventure a few months later. This was different from the other incidents, a one-time thing, not part of the routine. I came home from a party one night where I had been drinking a little. I wasn't drunk, but I was feeling a little more uninhibited than usual. (I no longer drink, by the way.) I was feeling horny and decided I'd masturbate before I went to sleep. I went to my bedroom, stripped, and took out my toy. I unlocked my back door, slipped out onto the wooden stairs, and made my way down six flights to the building's side door. I propped the door open (since I didn't have my keys) and walked naked into the dark alley that ran along the south side of the apartment. The tiny stones hurt my bare feet, but I walked carefully down the alleyway to the sidewalk that ran in front of my apartment building. It was about three-o'clock in the morning and there was no one to be seen. There was some occasional light traffic a few blocks to the north but the streets in my immediate area were clear. I walked a short distance and lay down on the sidewalk directly underneath a streetlamp. I spread my legs and slowly inserted my dildo. Taking my time, I enjoyed the cool breeze on my skin and the sound of the cars passing on the main street a just few blocks away. I didn't hurry and wasn't really nervous, just excited and horny. I had a wonderful orgasm, got to my feet, and retraced my steps to my room. As far as I know, no one saw me. Let me mention that this was the last time I engaged in this kind of behavior. I knew it was stupid and potentially dangerous. I am very thankful that no one came upon me that night because I was definitely putting myself at risk. That was my final stab at exhibitionism. I hope you enjoyed it. The Routine This story is fictional, as are all characters and incidences in it. Although this is original work, I make no copyright claims to it. You should feel free to reproduce it as you wish, although appropriate credit where due would be greatly appreciated. -- When she heard him move, she paused in her rising. The morning laid low over their home as she sat up in her bed, partly arisen from her slumber, and yet in some part, laying in the embrace of a tender, warm drowsiness. Her eyes ran over his frame, sharply defined and chiseled even through the covers and sheets. She watched, as the first rays of sunlight caressed his face, making their way through space and time to lay their gentle warmth on her beloved. She stroked his face, silent and adoring, even as his eyelids fluttered, his stubble crackling inaudibly through slender fingers, and long, painted nails. 6:00, proclaimed the clock on her bedside, as it did every morning when she looked at it. She should begin. A last bit of his essence lingering upon her nostrils, she wore her slippers, adjusted her gown, and tip-toed her way towards the bathroom. It was early yet. A few solitary birds chirped bravely, even as the city enjoyed its slumber. Soon, there would be hustle and bustle. There would be the daily grind. There would be the noise and sights and smells and sounds of a grimy city, once again beginning its daily dance of sin and folly, its very fabric pulsating with the lives of its inhabitants, of those who populated it. Of rich men and poor men, and women virtuous and sinful, and of everyone else between. The two bangles on her arm clinked and tinkled as she brushed her teeth and adjusted her dark hair, looking at herself in the mirror with a critical eye. She paused over each flaw, imagined or real, put off with their sheer number as she always was, and then grunted as she ambled to her own bedroom again. It wouldn't do to fret. Her nimble fingers worked with practiced efficiency as she wrapped the simple saree around her petite frame, barely pausing to glance at her own work, as her generous curves were wrapped one by one, held hostage by the cotton covering her mocha-coloured body. She worked quickly, quietly, even as her mind went over her many responsibilities for the day. There was breakfast to be made, and some cleaning to be done. At 7, she would awake her husband and her children, and pray to her gods as they dressed and freshened. They would eat, mostly in silence, for there was little they did not already know of each other. The children would laugh, and sometimes bicker, and she would raise her voice ever so slightly when they became a little too heated. She would rise and pack their lunch as they prepared to leave. He would peruse his newspaper, with his customary glass of milk brought to him at just the right temperature, just the right amount of sugar. She would take care of these things. Then they would leave, the children and their father, and she would softly peck each, wishing them a good day. She thought absently of the choices for breakfast as she affixed her bindi to her forehead, and adjusted the mangalsutra around her neck, both proclaiming the fact of her marriage far and wide, as effectively as any certificate one might produce. And just as she began to leave the room towards her kitchen, she heard him say her name. "Meera." She turned around and glanced at the clock. 6:39. "Ji". Yes. He smiled at her warmly, propping himself on one elbow, as she looked at him in mingled surprise and happiness. "Come here, my dear." She obeyed, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly as she walked towards him and sat by him on the bed. "You are awake early today", she told him, smiling. It was not a question. He nodded. "It was the sound of your jewelry as you dressed." "Oh? Well, I'm sorry, I --" "Shh." He put a finger on her lips and gave her another of those smiles that made her knees buckle slightly, and her brow become slightly damp with perspiration. He looked her in the eyes, his dark pupils like coals, radiating warmth and affection as he slowly brought her head down to his lips to kiss her softly. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Meera. In more ways than one." The sunlight caressed his face still, but on her it was a flame more than a touch. She sat, not quite finding the right words as the light seemed to blaze upon her, her own cheeks turning crimson red from the unexpected compliment. He brought her closer, and she submitted, as he slowly fingered the folds of her freshly tied saree, tugging gently yet firmly, even as she stood up and reached out to the blinds to close them. He held on the the cloth, unwrapping it from around her body quickly, as he stood too, discarding the garment onto the bed, his hands roving her blouse and her petticoat. She sighed pleasurably at his touches, her own hands drawn towards the buttons of his nightshirt as she breathed in the vague yet intoxicating male musk that seemed to pervade her senses, dimly wondering how she'd pack lunch for the children today. "I'm afraid I've ruined 20 minutes worth of dressing up today.", he told her, smiling, as he deftly opened the hooks on her blouse. "You've done worse to me.", she responded, an equivalent smile forming on her own lips. "Have I?", he asked her, half joking and half serious, his eyebrows raised as he paused in her undressing. She nodded. "Sinful things. And making me have sinful thoughts." He chuckled and resumed in his task, holding her closer as she ran one hand gently over his bare, muscled chest. "Tell me about these thoughts", he said, beginning to rub his hands over her erogenous zones. She purred, kissing his lips and tasting of him, her tongue roving and dancing with his own as she revelled in the closeness, in the touch, in the feeling of his breath on her skin. "They are a secret", she said, breaking the kiss and proceeding to bite his earlobe. Another chuckle, as he wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling on her panties. "For shame, woman. Keeping secrets from your husband hardly become you." She did not speak as he guided her hands inside his shorts, sighing as she began to stroke and pamper and feed his engorged arousal. His own fingers reached inside of her, a small gasp escaping her lips as they penetrated, playing her with practiced ease of their own. "Suckle me.", he said, his voice gentle, his words spoken with the commanding confidence of one who knows he would not be disobeyed. She simply nodded, falling to her knees as he sat above her, pulling down his shorts and releasing his erection. The musk filled her nostrils yet again, seeming part of the very air in the room as her head bent in loving submission, and feminine lust, upon her man, each ridge and vein familiar to her mouth as she obeyed his command. He continued to touch. Here and there. All over. His fingers magic on her as he pushed and pinched with quite enough force to make her squeak in a mixture of pleasure and pain, her voice muffled as she bobbed. She felt the touch of his trimmed nails on her skin, searing with the need to break from a crushing routine, as she added energy to her work, revelling in this opportunity. "Mmm, I'm so lucky to have you as a wife, Meera.", he said, revelling perhaps in his own pleasure. She'd meant to be gentle, but her thrusts grew savage as she massaged him and relieved him, the very act a joyful exclamation of unexpected delight. She would stay here forever, at his feet and giving him pleasure, his touches comfortable and wonderful, his smile like warm, languid water on weary joints. "Take it all in", he told her as he pushed her head gently further, his shaft disappearing from view completely. She smelt his scent again, the same that she had smelt many times, and now she realised why she loved it. It was the scent of his dominance and of her submission. It was the jagged edge in the tortured smoothness of a marriage that was ordinary and normal in every way possible. It was the tang of mint in her life, the orange tint in a conventional tea, the hint of impurity that stood for all that was enjoyable. And so she suckled with gusto as his own breathing seemed to grow perfunctory and sharp. "Come." Once again, a command, not a question. He pulled her up, exchanging a glance, before effortlessly dropping her on to the bed, her legs already raised to him in her sweet surrender. He gripped her in his arms and pushed, hard enough for a sharp squeal to escape her lips and then pistoned, dominant, masterful, not any more tender than she desired. "Mujhe apna bana lijiye!", she said softly. Make me yours. She tasted salt on her tongue as a drop of sweat ran down her face, and to her, it too was impregnated with the essence of an ancient dance between male and female, the dance that they performed together, the dance whose sounds the small room rang out with. As the city rose from its slumber, and began its own dreary morning, a husband took what was his, took what was given with adulation and pride, adoration and desire. She held and tore her beloved bedsheets with her nails as he worked, her pleasure translating into gentle moans even as his thrusts quickened. She felt a twitch. Another. And then she was his once more, as he filled her, the already ruined sheets filled with their combined wetness as they concluded their dance. He held her, and she held him, as he lay his head on her tummy, losing track of the minutes as a warm drowsiness threatened to overtake them both again. "You are a good wife, Meera.", he told her absently, as she tickled his back. She smiled, already looking for her blouse once again. "It is time for your breakfast, but I'm afraid it will only be cereal today." "Is there milk?", he asked her, glancing up at her, a question quite rhetorical and unnecessary. "Of course." And with that, they rose, the routine began, and the tentacles of the city came to life again. And in this throbbing city, there remained two children in one particularly grimy corner, who never quite understood (until they were much grown up) why their mother seemed flushed and warm when they received their little pecks that day. Little did they know that a third sibling would be their lot, and that rather soon.