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Erotic Reunion with Bina

By: Neesraj



I had long since ceased to fantasise about Bina, the flame that inspired me to the impressive heights that I ultimately achieved in life. I would never have thought that a general strike called by a few political parties in a major metropolis of India would bring into my life an experience that almost half a century of my earlier existence had not. 

I was on my way to the United States on business. The airline connections entailed an overnight stop over at this metropolis, before I boarded a 7am flight on my way to Los Angeles. This was routine. I had arranged to arrive at about 6pm on a domestic flight that day for an overnight stopover, check into a hotel in the city and then catch the morning flight. Everything seemed normal till my flight landed in this blessed city. I collected my bags from the belt and proceeded to the Exit Gate. 

The scene outside was one of total confusion. There was a huge crowd of people, the strength of the multitude being unusual even for an Indian airport. I soon learnt that the City was on a general strike called by trade unions affiliated to some political parties, that no transport was plying and that the scenes witnessed during the day had been pretty appalling. Even private vehicles had been targeted and forced off-road. That is how the Hotel in which I was to spend the night had not been able to send their pick-up vehicle. The spectacle of spending the night outside the airport horrified me, coming as it would just ahead of a long and tiring flight to the US. I was almost at my wits end. I was told that the Airport Hotel was full. However, flaunting my position in the Government, I learnt that there was a Left Luggage facility, where I might leave my bags. That would leave me relatively free to move about with higher level of independence and flexibility. I promptly deposited my bags there, including the cabin baggage, and came out. 

Even though I was somewhat of a jetsetter, I had not been a frequent visitor to this city over the years, partly because this was the city where Bina lived after her marriage. She had abruptly gone out of my life more than a quarter of a century back after being the beacon that guided me for almost a decade. Out of sheer depth of my love for her, I had resolved then never to create any problems in her married life and I had ever since stayed away from her and her husband. So, I ventured out of the airport, hoping to find a suitable hotel within some reasonable walking distance. 

***********

I had met Bina when I was just entering my adolescent years. My elder sister was getting married, and it was over a pre-marriage meeting of the two families at a relative's house that I saw her. She was a petite little nymph, all of 15 and I was into my seventeenth year. Something about Bina impressed me instantaneously. Since she belonged to the groom's family, I understood the sensitivities involved, and our discussion during that first meeting was confined to normal exchange of pleasantries. But Bina had left an indelible impression on my mind.

Before the wedding day, Bina visited our house once as part of a big group of people from the groom's family for some customary rituals and I found myself getting an indescribable pleasure and satisfaction, just looking at her. She was undoubtedly a very pretty and stunningly beautiful girl. She had a perfect face – most beautiful and expressive eyes, rose petals of lips, pink and round cheeks, a pearl-string of teeth, an exquisitely shaped nose, cascading black tresses, a very fair complexion and overall a very captivating personality. Bina was the daughter of the groom's elder brother. The older ladies did some weird arithmetic and concluded that Bina was to call me "Mamaji", maternal uncle, a brother to her mother. We both seemed to protest, but we were told that since my sister and Bina's mother were daughters of that family, they became sisters, and Bina's mother became my sister as well. 

The marriage of my sister was soon solemnised. Thereafter, my meetings with Bina became more frequent. She was the eldest of three sisters and one brother. In the initial stages of our acquaintance, with a view to breaking the ice, I would often ask her questions related to academics, and she would always shrug them away. She was more into other aspects of life. Bina's father was a senior official in one of the local utilities in Delhi, and a very pleasant, influential and respected man. While my family belonged to the lower middle class strata, hers certainly was an upper middle class family. Her dad had a Government bungalow in one of Delhi's upmarket residential areas. In those days, owning a television was a big luxury in India, and they had one – a black & white TV. They also had a telephone in their house, a rarity in New Delhi of the early 1970s. 

However, Bina never behaved like a pampered girl. I would often go to their house on one pretext or the other, including for watching cricket matches on television, and spend long hours in her company. I invariably noticed that she enjoyed my visits to their house as much as I did. She had such a pleasing nature. She would often ask me to drive her around on my scooter. While I always complied, I was frequently also inclined to accommodate her youngest sister's requests for a ride with us. I noticed that Bina always resented this. I also noticed that Bina would initially sit on the pillion holding the seat handle, but as soon as we were out of the neighbourhood, on the main road, she would hold me tight as many grown up married women would do with their husbands driving the scooter. 

Bina had now turned sixteen. Our scooter rides would often make her now growing breasts to smash against my back, passing mysterious thrills through my body. Our relationship was assuming mysterious proportions. She would always address me as "Mamaji", but she was always a very close and dear girl friend to me. I remember how I articulated my discomfort one day at her manner of addressing me but was amazed her brutal pragmatism.

"What is the harm if I call you "Mamaji"? It keeps everyone around happy and they do not suspect anything. You know, at our age, they would put a million restrictions on our spending time together but for this facade. It's all fine so long as we both know how our true relationship is. I have asked Dadi (grandmother) and she says there is nothing in this relationship."

"Did you tell her about us?" I enquired apprehensively, realising that her Dadi was also my sister's mother.

"No. I asked her pretending that a friend of mine was wanting to marry someone related to her like this and she said it was ok," came the prompt reply. It did not escape my attention that Bina had talked of 'marriage'. Just remember, she was merely a sixteen year old then. 

So, we decided that it was best for her to keep calling me "Mamaji". But I did extract a concession from her that I would call her differently when no one was around. She wanted to know how I wanted to address her and I divulged " As Dollie". Bina was a bit surprised at the name chosen, and I just reminded her that she was my childhood friend. I was too shy to use the term childhood sweetheart. But I'm sure she understood what was stated and also what was left unstated. Thereafter, she had become "Dollie" to me, when alone with me.

With each passing day, we grew more and more fond of each other. Bina would discuss minute details of the passes that young boys used to make at her on her way to college, and I would share with her my interaction with girls of various descriptions at the University. The underlying, though unstated, axiom in all such discussions was that those boys and girls were all wasting their time on the two of us, and that we were made for each other. 

Actual realisation of one part of the important role that Bina was quietly playing those days in shaping my destiny came much later. I was a good student myself, but I had found during the years in the University that many of the other bright boys fell by the wayside because their adolescent urges caused colossal waste of their time chasing girls of all descriptions. I never got afflicted with this malady, for, Bina constituted my Feminine World in its entirety. Bina was always there, just a bus ride away, or just a telephone call away. I had no fears, no points to prove. I had my girl, and the best girl in New Delhi at that. Consequently, my academics remained at a healthy level, consistently. This was to play a crucial role in determining my station in life as a grown up adult.

Soon, I realised that Bina's viewpoint on the subject of how she used to address me was so right. One day, she told me on telephone that she wanted me to take her to a movie. I offered to go with her to one of the hot favourites running in some theatres.  

Bina was quick to reprimand me, "Budhdhoo (dimwit), we must go to a movie where no body else comes."

I complied. I got tickets for an old English movie running in one of the best theatres. The 'Mamaji angle' came in handy and we had no difficulty being allowed to go for the movie. I had asked for corner seats, but we realised that it hardly made a difference. There were not more than 20 people in the hall. Sitting on my left, Bina talked almost the whole length of the movie. We held hands, I put my left arm around her neck and my left elbow felt her lovely breasts on a few occasions. In the middle of a particularly romantic scene, Bina even placed a light peck, bisecting my right cheek and lips. For sometime during the movie, the palm of my hand around her neck hung over her left breast and it gave me immense thrills to feel it heaving with her breathing. More than once, I did close my palm over her breast softly and felt its size and shape. 

I must admit that I was considerably aroused during the show and I'm sure that Bina noticed my huge hard-on. She dropped a key chain (accidentally or by design I could not tell) and bent to collect it in front of my feet. As she was picking it up with her right hand, her left hand pivoted on my thigh and slipped to my erection momentarily. I could see her smile softly and blush. I also noticed that Bina shifted in her seat restlessly for a few minutes after that, grinding her thighs against each other, and steadied only after a little moan and a bit of gasping, together with stretching of her legs in front. I understood very little of all this and it was only decades later, more precisely today, that I was to learn that that was Bina's first orgasm. On our way back home, I asked how she liked the film and she admitted she had not gone for the movie, but for spending some good and quality time, close to me. I found her stealing a peek at my crotch, which was by now well behaved. She added for good measure that for her, being in physical contact with me for three hours had been the reward. 

Our visits to each other's house became more frequent. She would often create opportunities citing academic assistance as a rationale. The 'Mamaji' cover always came in handy. We would often sleep in the same room, even though her sisters (when at their place) or my own younger sisters (when in our place) always gave us company. However, we would often talk much beyond midnight, when the youngsters in our company were long and fast asleep. We would flirt endlessly, but never got explicitly erotic or sexual. Perhaps, we had both not discovered our own sexuality in any appreciable measure yet. She would always sleep on the bed next to me, with a gap of about a foot in between and would often keep one hand on my wrist or my palm. I would often wake up in the middle of the night and stare in the filtered moonlight entering through the window at Bina's lovely form, lost in deep and serene sleep. Her deep breathing and her heaving breasts would often make me have hard-ons. I remember having softly cupped her lovely breasts on a few occasions like this, and could see a smile on her lips each time I did that. I also remember having placed soft kisses on her tender lips a few times, and she always seemed to be awake subconsciously, a mysterious smile coming on her lips each time. 

Years rolled by. With time, our relationship matured. We had by now become more aware of the true dimensions and connotations of our relationship. I had completed my masters and had begun work on my doctoral thesis. In the meantime, we did go through the usual ups and downs of the lives of adolescents and young adults. There was a time when she reported her parents getting interested in a boy from a known industrialist family as a match for her. I was quite taken aback for a while when she seemed to show more than normal interest in that boy. A thread somewhere seemed to snap in my life. But the very next week, she came home one evening, entirely unannounced, and declared in a matter of fact manner that she had said "No" to the guy. When I wanted to know the reasons, she retorted, a bit angrily, that I should know. 

I had now begun to fantasise about Bina and me spending our lives together. But I could never bring myself to articulate these thought in front of her. The economic chasm between her family and my family always made me apprehensive of the future of our relationship. Besides, the "Mamaji" angle added to my self-doubts. And yet, I had begun to love Bina. Yes, I knew I was in love and I was sure that she loved me too. I also knew that the lead in the whole matter would have to be taken by me, that our traditionally conservative families were most unlikely to spot our mutual fondness and arrange our coming together for life on their own. 

That is when the determination to make it good in life took me over. I argued with myself that if I were to attain for myself an economic status of high standing, other things would easily fall in place. That is when I decided to jettison a career in Physics and join the civil service. Civil service was a plum career those days and entry was most difficult. There was a two-stage stiff selection process, with more than 100,000 candidates vying for 500 odd positions. 

For three months, we hardly met. I concentrated on my preparation. Civil service examination those days used to be as much a test of ability and intelligence as of endurance. I remember how I used to write my answers like mad sitting in the examination hall. My fingers would often begin to ache, but I would remind myself that I had to carry on in order to get Bina. Bina became my inspiration to do well in the examination. Therefore, it came as no surprise to me when I was called for an interview with the Board a few months later. The image of Bina as my bride kept on propelling me endlessly and I cleared the final hurdle.

I had been selected for appointment in the Superior Civil Service of India. I was delighted and so was my family. I remember Bina came within a few hours of the result being flashed in the newspapers. I could see the pride writ large on her lovely face. Her eyes had a glow I had never seen before and she was simply ecstatic. When we were alone in my study room for a little while, she gave me an unprecedented hug, squeezing her ample breasts against my chest, grinding her pelvis against mine and giving me an instant erection. Even as I tried to absorb what was happening, she stood on my feet, raised herself and gave me a full kiss on my lips. It felt wonderful to get a preview of the future, with my future wife expressing her affection and pride in explicit terms. 

We had lunch together. Although no words were exchanged to that effect, we both seemed to be sure that we would now become man-wife, very soon. While her pride in my achievement was clearly manifest, my pride at the prospect of having Bina as my wife was no less. I knew that she was the woman of my life, that a better wife I could never get. My thoughts were speeding at enormous pace. In those few moments, I saw her as my fully dolled-up bride; I imagined about our "suhaag raat" (the nuptial night of consummation); and I even dreamed up our two little kids. 

But the euphoria did not take long to subside. We had never thought that circumstances could so fast join hands with our elders to conspire against us. My success sent danger signals to Bina's parents. They had always liked me, but somehow, I got a feeling that they wanted their eldest child to be married into a really really rich family. A bureaucrat as a son was perhaps not what they aspired for. I am sure they had their own valid reasons. Bina's father had himself been in government service and they had perhaps concluded that the limited income in government service was but a pittance against the earnings of boys in business. One day, when I rang up Bina, she sounded distraught. We could not talk for any length of time and she could only say that there were serious problems. 

Howsoever much I would try to get her on telephone again, I could not. I was always told, in a most pleasant manner though, that she had gone out, was in the toilet and so on. And then, I learnt that the family had gone out of town for a week or so. I felt most uncomfortable. The happiness that my success in the examination had brought had all but evaporated. The week ended and they were back. Bina's mother visited our house with a pack of sweets, and announced that Bina had been betrothed to a boy in the metropolis that I was in today. The boy was a known entity. Even I knew him. He was a very sweet person indeed. They were family friends of Bina's family and had roaring business. 

The marriage was fixed and was to take place inside a month's time. All had been lost. I had not even been able to make my love for Bina public and she was grabbed away. I wanted so much to be with her. News trickled of frenzied shopping for the wedding. It was on one such day when I knew her mom was out in the market that I ventured to dial their number. Bina was on the line. 

"Do something, Mamaji, no... no... Raj" she pleaded with me. 

It was not often Bina had addressed me as Raj. I understood the import of this but there was little that we could think of. We both had utmost regard for our parents and the first axiom on which our actions were to be based was that we were not to hurt the sentiments of our parents. I had been arguing with myself that the boy chosen by her parents was really a good fellow, and rich at that. He would keep Bina happy. So, her part of the 'story' had been tied up. I could not care less about myself. A misplaced sense of making sacrifice for the sake of Bina's happiness prevented me from thinking through a drastic action strategy. 

"Can I make one last request?" she asked me suddenly. 

I mumbled my assent. 

"I want to spend some hour with you before I start belonging to somebody else. And I want us to be together in a hotel room. Raj, please do not misunderstand me, but I want you take my virginity. It belongs to you. Day-after-tomorrow at 10 am at our usual spot in Connaught Place," she commanded and hung up.

As the enormity of her decision hit me, I became increasingly uncomfortable. And yet, I respected her decision. Here was a girl, about to get married to perhaps one of the most eligible bachelors around, wanting her true love to deflower her even before the wedding. 

My own behaviour at home must have alarmed my parents. They had sensed that something was amiss and that it was all related to Bina's impending wedding. They were also quick to understand the sensitivities involved, the impact any foolish action on my part could have on my elder sister's position in the family of hers. On the morning of the day fixed by Bina for our peculiar 'escapade', my father gave me a big lecture, admitting that he appreciated that I had a soft corner for Bina, but explaining also that a match with her was not possible because of the way we were related. I did come out openly and stated that the relationship was not a barrier and that since we were not related by blood, nor in any other close manner, there was nothing immoral. I did concede that it could at worst be a bit awkward for a while. But my father asked me to stand clear of Bina and not to do anything to bring the two families or Bina into disrepute.


Erotic Reunion with Bina



I could not make it to Connaught Place. Needless to say, I skipped her wedding. But I did meet her a few days later, when she was invited for a lunch along with her groom by my parents. We hardly talked to each other. I could just see a couple of tears in her eyes, and I'm sure she saw some in mine. When she left that day, she wished her "Mamaji" goodbye and I blessed her like an elder. That is when I decided to stay clear of her, her city – never to cross her path, so that the shadow of our past did not caste an evil spell on her marital bliss. I loved her enough to wish her all the very best in her life. 

********

The city wore a deserted look. There were lots of policemen and paramilitary troops on the roads. I was repeatedly stopped and asked to explain why I was on the road on such a day. Each time, I showed my Government Identity Card, explained the circumstances, and moved on. There was no hotel in sight. The policemen told me that the nearest one would be about six kilometres away. Just as I was walking past a big residence on the left of the road, I stopped dead in my tracks. It had the name of Bina's husband written on the marble plaque, together with the Company's name. I remembered suddenly that I had heard when she was getting married that the house was a stone's throw away from the airport.

I had rarely met Bina and her family after her wedding. The meetings were mostly during some of the weddings of close relations, the last being when my elder sister's son got married three years back. I had learnt then that Bina had three children, two of whom were grown up. Her elder daughter was a bit older than my son. Her two sons were younger, the third being just about ten years. I remember asking her if the third child was an 'accident'. She admitted the boy was born because of some slight 'miscalculation'. She and her husband had repeatedly asked me to visit them sometime. 

I debated whether I should go inside. I made enquiries of a police constable as to the nearest hotel, and he said it was about six kilometres away. I was overtaken by an urge to see my Bina in the glory of her marital bliss, in all her affluence and prosperity, and I found myself walking to the imposing gate. I looked at the watch. It was about 730pm. The gateman made appropriate enquiries and informed that 'saheb' (the boss of the house) was not in. When I enquired for Bina, the fellow realised that I was close to the family and took me inside.

Bina opened the huge door of the main building. She was as beautiful today as she was 25 years back. She was impeccably dressed in an expensive salwar-kameez (loosely fitting trousers and shirt that women in India wear) . She had a mixture of surprise, shock and delight on her face, standing there, right at her door step. Her lips parted and she shrieked in joy, took a few steps forward and hugged me.

"What a marvel, Mamaji!!! You here?" she stated.

She held me by my arm and took me inside, closing the door behind us. I was both impressed and pleased with what I saw. I immediately felt so happy for her and admitted to myself that as a civil servant, I could not have given her but a fraction of the property she lived in. It seemed such a long trek inside the house, before we reached a well furnished and nicely lit room. We sat on the sofa and she enquired how I was there in the middle of the general strike. I quickly explained to her the circumstances of my presence there and enquired where her family members were. Bina informed me they had all gone to their respective schools/colleges/offices earlier in the day but were now stuck in the city. The schools and colleges were making arrangements for overnight stay of students to ensure their safety and that her husband had decided to stay in the hotel across the road in front of his office. 

I looked askance at her, wanting to convey that I did not consider it appropriate to stay in the house when she was alone. In her typical style of the yore, Bina quickly dispelled any doubts I had in my mind. She immediately called her husband on the cell and told him of my arrival. He was happy and spoke to me. He apologised profusely that he was not there to perform duties as a good host, but assured me that his wife would make my stay comfortable. How prophetic, as I was to realise soon! She spoke to him again and I heard her telling him that I would be put up in the guest room, next to their bedroom. 

Bina explained that even the maid was not there but assured me that I would have good food which she would cook herself. She added that there was enough raw material in the house. After a while, Bina got up to move to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for me. I followed her. As she was making coffee, I sat on a slab, positioning myself such that I could see Bina's face all the time. We were talking all this while. She looked at me, smiled softly and then looked away. The coffee was ready in no time. As we walked back to the room, I could hear some muffled sobbing sounds. 

We resumed our seats on the sofa. I looked at her and saw a couple of tears trickle down her lovely cheeks. The tears took me back to the day she visited our house after her wedding. I had understood the genesis of tears then, for, even I had them in my eyes. But the context today was unclear. When I was so happy to see her affluence and wealth, why should she feel low? I could not resist asking why she was crying on such a happy occasion. What Bina said moved me.

"Raj, I just remembered something you had told me years back. You had said that a good husband is the one who spends time in the kitchen with his wife, lending her a helping hand, or just giving her moral support while she is at work. I had loved those words and dreamed of such moments. But believe me, I have got those moments only today, after more than 25 years of my married life."

Saying this, she leaned on my shoulder and began to cry. I was not prepared for this emotional outburst. I put my arm around her shoulders and tapped my hand against her bare arm. Her sobbing, barely audible though it was, was becoming more intense by the second. The full import of what she had just said had begun to sink in. She had called me Raj, and not used the veneer of Mamaji. My thoughts instantly went back to our telephonic conversation that fateful day, just before her wedding. I also noted that she had said that she had got those moments – of husband spending time with his wife in the kitchen – only today. I knew instantaneously that she had obviously not been able to get over me in those twenty five years. I did not know how to react. I instinctively pulled her towards myself, and softly kissed her on her head. She appeared to push herself more and more into me and I kissed on her lovely hair again and again. 

Bina asked me to drink my coffee. I was surprised when she took out a pack of low calorie sweetener from her cupboard and offered to add two tablets to my coffee. She explained that she remembered my telling her three years back at my nephew's wedding that I was now a diabetic. She added that she had bought a pack then had been replacing it each year with a new one, as the shelf life of the chemical was one year. She said that even though her mind told her I would never come, her heart told her that she would get to use the sweetener one day. It was a victory of the heart over the mind, yet again. I drank the coffee and told her that she makes as good coffee now as she did then. She erupted into tears yet again. 

After the coffee, we began to talk again. We talked about the old times, and I kept asking her about the years that had intervened between then and now. She asked me several questions about my own life. I was happy that we were as honest and truthful to each other as we were those golden years of our togetherness. She told me about all important and many not so important events of her married life. I was trying my best to lighten the environment by asking her funny things about her bedroom life, conveying all the time that my underlying presumption always was that she had a fabulous sex life. 

Suddenly, Bina asked me, "Raj, why did you go away? Why did you not force me? Why did we not fight our elders then?"

I tried to explain to her as calmly as I could bring myself to, that the edifice of a good marriage could never be structured on the grave of aspirations and happiness of our parents. And I reasoned with her that I always thought that "he" would be a better husband than I could ever be. He had money, affluence and time. With me, her life would always have been a struggle, even though we would perhaps have enjoyed higher social esteem. I told her that my hunch had always been that our decision was not wrong and that I believed that she was a most happy wife and mother. 

Bina broke down again. Between sobbing, she told me that I was only partially correct. She informed that she had had all material comforts, but never the care and love that she always believed I would give her. Saying this, she clung to me. Her hands clasped me behind my neck and she kissed me full on my lips. She smelled the same as she did many years back in the movie theatre and then when my civil services result came in. After some initial hesitation, I held her by her shoulders and kissed right back. My kissing was more intense than it had ever been before. I knew she liked what I was doing to her. 

Bina disengaged for a moment, and removed her chunni (a piece of cloth the women in India cover their breasts with, on top of their kameez (shirt)). She was in a tighter embrace immediately. I had seen the contours of her breasts now under her kameez. I even had seen some flesh as well through the loosely fitting low cut kameez. When she clung to me passionately, I could feel her heart beat against my chest. Her breasts were softly poking into my chest. I realised soon that I was but a man. I had a big erection. The intensity of our embrace had emboldened me to the extent that I made no effort to hide my physical state today. Having experienced more than a quarter of a century of married life, Bina was quick to spot my state. She smiled at me again, as she had done years back in the movie theatre. But this time, she was more clear in her mind. She just kept her little hands on my big member and actually began to feel it through my trousers. 

For the zillionth time, Bina was quick and decisive in her decision. "Raj, I want to have you tonight, just one night to get a glimpse of the life that I abandoned so foolishly years back. Even though I am no longer a virgin, I want us to do what I wanted to do that day in the hotel room before I got married. I promise it will be just one night. I'm sure you will understand how I feel and will not disappoint me, standing on ethics and morality."

I was quiet for a long time. All this while Bina was playing with my erection. That the erection had not subsided must have told her that I was not even thinking of rejecting her proposition. I thought to myself about the circumstances that had brought us together today. This was entirely a God-send. Neither of us had engineered even an iota of the whole chain of events. Perhaps, God had decided to give us back a fragment of the big piece he had so cruelly taken away from us years back. 

I wanted to use no words on this momentous occasion. I just held Bina tighter in my arms. Her breasts felt so good on my chest. I then gave her a long and passionate kiss. And while I kissed her, my left hand moved to her left breast and held it softly. Bina was in seventh heaven of delight. She was moaning now, her grunts getting louder by the moment. I had begun to feel like Bina's husband today and I decided to behave exactly like that. 

Surprisingly, in the past, our encounters of the close kind had been at Bina's initiative. I knew that the day had come when I should act the Man and take the lead. I pulled the low cut neck of Bina's kameez and could see her breasts, almost fully. They were really beautiful. I could see her nipples, pink and big. I just pushed my hand inside and held her bare breast under the loose kameez and a slack bra. Bina let out a shrill cry. I played ever so softly with her breast and the nipple and her ecstasy moved higher and higher towards its peak. I diverted my attention to the other breast and nipple and Bina could not control the frenzy. She simply collapsed in a big orgasm. 

We made out on the sofa for a long time. In the process, we undressed each other partially. We were both naked above our waists. From either side, there were statements every now and then to the effect that nothing anywhere close to what we were experiencing today had ever happened in our respective married lives. Every so often, Bina would drop a tear or two, lamenting about the life that could have been. In the middle of this priceless exploration of each other's body, Bina showed her caring side when she wanted to know what time I usually ate my dinner and I told her I was entirely flexible. She did not miss appreciating this and sighed how nice it would have been to have me as her husband. She confided that her husband always announced a time for dinner and wanted everything ready and freshly cooked by then. Delays led to grumpiness and tantrums. 

Bina offered to cook dinner after she had a little feast. She sought my permission to take my member, now aching with hardness, in her hands. I agreed and put a counter-condition about my feast as well. But I would not define my feast, even though she wanted to know what I intended to do. Like a good hostess, Bina offered me to have the first crack.. I told her that I would like to pay better attention to her breasts, but that could wait, for, they had already been attended to in some measure. I told her that I wished to eat her. Bina did not understand. "What will you do?" she demanded to know. I kept silent. 

I asked her to lie down on the sofa. She did. I unknotted the string of her salwar and slowly, very slowly, pulled it down. There was no embarrassment, no shyness. It was as if I had done this all my life to her. In no time, the salwar was off her, revealing her comely legs and pink cotton panties, which had a very big wet spot where her womanhood lay. 

"Are you going to put your mouth there? Na, Raj, it is dirty...How can you....?"

I acted as if I was deaf. I sat down beside her and felt her thighs, moving my fingers softly on the inside. She liked what I was doing to her. My nimble fingers kept probing her sensitive areas. I moved my fingers up and touched the panties at the lowermost point. I was perilously close to her fountain of divine glory. I could see some strands of her pubic hear peeping out of the panties. I held one such strand and gave it a slight twitch. Bina squirmed in delight. I then put my whole palm over her triangle, encompassing the whole universe, as it were. I gave a little squeeze to the triangle, pushing my finger a bit into her womanhood, along with the panty fabric. 

All this while, Bina kept asking what I was going to do next. While I remained tight lipped for most time, I did ask her if she had any apprehensions, whether she lacked trust in me. She was obviously annoyed at such thoughts. After teasing her for a long time, I slowly pulled the panties down, revealing a most beautiful ensemble of feminine treasures. I found that even though the pubic hair grew thick and long, the pussy lips of Bina were relatively bare and they were dark pink in colour. Confirming the cause of the wet spot on her panties, I found liberal secretions dripping down her thighs. She smelled fabulous. 

Without much ado, I put one finger softly inside her hole. She almost sat up in gratification. I began stoking my finger in and out and her moaning became louder and louder. After a long time, I put my finger to where her clit was and she erupted in joy. She had a most violent orgasm and the visual treat of the muscles contracting and releasing spasmodically was something which made me almost ejaculate myself. I slowed down the pace and she regained her breath in a while. Every now and then, Bina would tell me how foolish she had been in accepting her parents' assessment that money and affluence weighed more than love. 

It was now time to shock her. Something told me that her husband had never eaten her pussy. That was never unusual in India. Even I had never eaten my wife. I asked Bina to be steady. I also assured her that I would not do a thing that she did not want me to do. But I also requested her not to reject any move without experiencing it, at least in a small measure. She looked at me quizzically. She ultimately gave me the green signal, "Chalo, karo kya karna chahte ho (go ahead, do what you want to)".

I lowered myself between her legs and kissed her thigh on its inside and moved my tongue around in small circles. Her skin was so tender, so soft. I then moved my tongue up and put my lips over the triangle of thick hair. Bit by bit, I descended. I could see the tension build in her genitalia. A thick drop of her juices escaped and fell on the carpet below. She was bucking restlessly in anticipation. I'm sure she knew by now where I was ultimately headed. And I did not disappoint her.

As soon as my lips touched her labial lips, she was catapulted from her seat. Resultantly, my mouth got filled with her swollen pussy lips together with the ample hair that had overgrown in such abundance. A hair stuck to my tongue and I felt so good. I slowed down till she regained composure and I then resumed my journey. I gently forced my tongue into her pussy folds and began to lick her lovingly. I moved my tongue up and down, up and down. She was flowing on to my tongue like a Himalayan stream. She tasted so exotic and smelled so fragrant. The more of her nectar my tongue lapped up, the more seemed to ooze out of her love orifice. She was rocking violently. I ultimately held her firmly to the sofa and put my tongue where her clit was. Bina stirred like a woman possessed. She clasped my head from behind and pulled me deeper into her pussy, enhancing even more the stimulation of her clit. She was shrieking and crying in frenzy. I kept up the tempo and soon she could take it no more. She broke into a most satisfying orgasm – satisfying as much for me as for her. It was as if a municipality pipeline had burst. She came in torrents into my grateful mouth, and she ejaculated her cordial for a long long time. I accepted all that she had to offer to me. 

When she caught her breath somewhat, she only said, "And I thought all these years that my husband was a most sexy man, with insatiable appetite for sex. But he has never made me enjoy sex. What have you done to me? I'm sure we would have had an army of kids if we had married. You are simply fantastic, Raj."

The sight of Bina in her immaculate nude glory was fabulous indeed. This was better than the fantasies that overtook me in the few days that followed my selection into the Civil Service. I knew it was her turn now. I was eagerly awaiting her plans on me to unfold. I offered myself to her saying , "I'm all yours, Dollie". Bina took her time. She was feasting herself on the glory of her own nudity in front of the man she had once wanted to make her own. And she was alternately looking at my semi-nude body, eyeing my huge erection under my trousers. 

She ultimately got up and enquired if I wanted it there itself or preferred to move into the bedroom. I simply stated that venue was of no consequence at all when it came to our proximity. She thought aloud that she would prefer to have the first session on the sofa and move to her bedroom for the rest of the night after dinner. The sight of a stark naked Bina standing up and moving towards me was erotic in the extreme. She stood in front of me, and I got up from my perch as well. Bina gave me a close hug and kissed me full on my lips. Soon, I could feel her tongue inside my oral cavity. Her lovely breasts, squashed against my own chest, made my already erect manhood an inch longer and harder.




Erotic Reunion with Bina



After a hug and smooch that seemed to last an eternity, Bina disengaged herself for a moment and unhooked the belt of my trousers. It took hardly any effort on her part to unbutton, unzip and discard the trousers in a heap. She gasped at the sight of my erection. She held me tenderly through the brief, her palm and fingers getting wet from my pre-cum oozing through the cloth. She played with my erection for a while and then suddenly took my brief all the way down, not letting her eyes move from the sight that unfolded. I was completely naked now, standing in front of the woman that I worshipped and wanted to make my wife long back. The next one was a moment of reckoning. Bina held my huge manhood in her hands. The woman I had once dreamed of as the mother of my children had finally held my sex firmly in her hands, massaging it ever so softly. 

Bina played with my penis for a long time. The way she handled it was at once a candid demonstration of her love, affection, eroticism and sexual desire for me. She wanted to know if she could play with it for some time and I wondered aloud why she had a doubt. After all, I had told her I was all hers. Bina was quick to confess that she just wanted to ensure that I would manage to retain myself for some length of time. 

"Dollie, it is the most momentous occasion of my life. Rest assured, I will not ejaculate till you want me to," I assured her.

I could again espy moisture in her eyes. I knew instantly that on a comparative scale, she was discovering some significant differences yet again, and I found myself quietly promising to myself to give to her in this one night what I had once dreamed of giving her in a lifetime. I liked the confidence and intensity with which Bina began to handle me now. Her soft but nimble fingers began to stroke my erection, lovingly, passionately. I was oozing pre-cum copiously and she smeared it along the length of my shaft. Her fingers felt so good, so divine. She would, every now and then, squeeze my balls softly and try to hold the whole of my sexual assembly in her hand. Every so often, she would pull at my penis and playfully make its head touch her pubic hair. I was all this while softly kneading her breasts, and kissing her. 

This went on for a long long time. Then, all of a sudden, Bina went down on her knees. Her lips were at the level of my manhood, now ferocious with desire for its fulfilment. I wasn't too sure what she wanted to do. I knew that not many Indian women were used to giving blow jobs, just like not many Indian men ate the pussies of their women. But today, I would not be surprised at anything at all. After all, I had myself eaten a pussy for the first time ever. 

Bina asked me in a matter of fact manner, "Can I?"

"Are you sure you want to? Do you do it often?" I enquired.

"I've never done this on him, nor has he ever done to me what you did a little while ago. But I guess I would want to put you in my mouth. I know you will pardon me if I can't continue just in case I don't feel up to it," she added.

I was deeply touched. It would have been an honour to have such an honest woman for my wife. As I was so thinking, Bina put her lips on the underside of my hardness and two big drops of my thick juices escaped the tip of my shaft and fell on her right breast. She was now licking me softly with her tongue, and moving her tongue up and down, slowly. This was my first time too. In so many years of my married life, I had never received such a loving and affectionate treatment. I felt rapturous but was apprehensive about the whole festival grinding to an abrupt halt, should she feel repelled by the odour, taste or even the sight of what she had embarked upon. 

Bina was fondling my hardness like a mother does to her dear child. My self-esteem got a boost it had never experienced before. As I revelled in the glory of the sensations she was causing, Bina put her lips on the head of my little monster. Her lips got instantly soaked in the fluid containing my seed. I could not read her expressions clearly. My apprehensions peaked. This was the moment of reckoning. Will she abandon her exploits? Or will she continue on the chosen path, hitherto uncharted for both of us.

My trepidation was entirely misplaced, for the next moment, I found Bina open her lips and take my expectant cock inside her mouth. She closed her lips around my shaft and began stroking me with her mouth. I could feel myself dripping into her mouth, drop by drop, but Bina carried on. I was amazed to see her swallow whatever I had offered to her so far. I could tell from her expressions that she was loving each bit of what she was doing. Initially, the strokes were slow and shallow, but with time, she picked up tempo and took me deeper inside her mouth. Each time my shaft went inside, I could feel a tingling sensation by the way her tongue impacted on its underside. Bina was being even naughty, flipping her tongue on my erect manhood both on its inward and return journeys. My penis glistened with her saliva. With each passing moment, she became more and more intense, making the strokes deeper, almost touching her tonsils, and gripping my shaft more firmly, even squeezing my balls every now and then. 

For someone married for over 25 years, I was getting exposed to erotica of the highest order for the first time. What Bina was doing to me was not merely raw passion. It had shades of a mysterious love and care that deprivation of the years had spontaneously bred today. I was now building up tension in my balls. I wanted a release. But Bina had wanted me to retain. I was not sure if she wanted me to release now. I stroked her on her cheeks and she looked up. 

"Do you want me to discharge now?" I enquired. And Bina nodded vigorously. 

"Should I withdraw and spill on you breasts or you want me to cum inside your mouth?" I continued. 

Bina gesticulated to me to fill up her mouth. I had to obey. I asked her to mouth-fuck me faster, and also told her that she was free to spit out my load, should she find it repulsive or disagreeable. She did as directed. I could sense the climax approaching. My moaning became loud and with a deafening grunt, I came. One litre, two, three.... It seemed as if I had unloaded a tankful of semen into her little mouth. Far from making faces, Bina appeared to love the taste of what I had fed her with. I was deeply moved as I saw her gulp all my gooey fluid down her throat. She continued to milk my cock for a long time, caressing it with her manipulative tongue and licking it dry of its secretion. 

I felt quite unstable on my feet. I had just experienced the first blow job of my life. That I received it from the first woman in my life pleased me no ends. I was waiting for Bina to say something, for her mouth had been blocked for the last almost half hour. And say she did, and she uttered words that I will never forget. We resumed our seats on the sofa and she began. She was honest, appreciative and brutally frank.

"I never knew that man-woman relationship could have such dimensions. I had begun to hate my husband's activities in the bed, for I always felt that he was behaving like an animal. Believe me Raj, my sex life has been man-centric, always. The moment he ejaculates, the matter ends. He rolls over, turns round and begins snoring. Am I a whore or something? But today, I experienced sex at its glorious best. When I found you giving me so much, I had an overpowering urge to give back even more. Will you believe, Raj, I had my first orgasm with you in the movie hall years back?" she stated.

I was more than a bit surprised to learn that. True, we had come quite close physically that day by our own standards, but I never thought it was close enough for a girl to have an orgasm. But what she said next surprised me even more.

"Will you also believe that after that day, today was again the first time I had orgasms? And multiple orgasms at that. I have already had six, and I am sure by the time you get into your flight tomorrow morning, I will be into double digits," she added for good measure.

I was truly surprised now. My association of the yesteryears told me that Bina was a sensuous woman and it was entirely beyond my comprehension how a female of her nature could not have experienced sexual peaks all these years. Seeing me dazed, she offered the answer. In fact, she had already given me the clue, but she now elaborated. She explained that she abhorred sex within her marriage, for she thought she was being treated like a commodity, a receptacle to accept the offerings from her husband's organ. She complained that her gratification had never been an issue with him. I knew instantly that I would have a busy night, if I were to give to her what she had been deprived of all these years and if I were to live up to her expectations from me. 

Bina smiled as she looked at my nude body. I smiled back, pointing to her nudity, in turn. She was now keen to make dinner for me. She was again thinking aloud and wondered if she should dress up and go to the kitchen or do the cooking in the nude. I left it to her, telling her the only difficulty could be if someone came. She seemed quite sure that no visitors could come tonight, and her husband would in any case not risk driving at this time and such dismal law and order scenario. So, it was decided that we shall have another first – cooking in the nude. She offered to me to watch TV as she cooked, but I insisted on being with her. 

She had already decided what she was going to cook – all my favourites. We entered the kitchen, her beautiful breasts joggling and swaying as she moved around, and my little one hanging, resting till its next call of duty. As she got busy with her cooking, I insisted I would help her with pealing and chopping of onions and ginger; boiling of chicken and sundry little activities. She was visibly moved, and audibly cursed herself at not forcing the issue when it really mattered. 

The discussion soon veered around to the fateful days preceding her wedding. She explained that she had been tricked into the whole thing, that she had been made to undertake the journey to this city on the pretext of attending a function in the family which ultimately became the house of hers. Once here, she learned to her horror that it was her engagement function being organised. She had vehemently argued with her mother and father, but there were limitations. They were, after all, not in their own house. She wound up by saying that that was how she was sentenced to her life imprisonment. 

She confided that she had had some hope that once back in Delhi, I would help her find a strategy to get out of it all. She admitted that she was disappointed with the way I just chose to give in. The discussion then inevitably shifted to our telephonic discussion when she wanted us to meet. She explained that she was not prepared to give her virginity to a man who was grabbing her through deceit. She also felt strongly that her virginity belonged to me. She said that she had always admired my impeccable behaviour and my respect for her dignity and honour. She had tears in her eyes when she explained how she was subjected to some form of physical violence at home and prevented from making it to Connaught Place that day. 

I was aghast. "What? You did not come?" was all I could say. 

When she nodded, I added, only to take away that load of guilt from her conscience, that I also could not make it, and went on to explain my circumstances. We smiled and kissed each other. She then enquired about my marriage. I explained that once she was out of my life, I couldn't care less. I accepted the first girl that my parents found for me. She was a bit surprised, stating that she had heard that I had found my wife on my own. I stated matter-of-factly that Raj had loved only one girl and woman, and that was Bina. I explained to her that my married life had been much the same as hers. The only reason I was still in it was for the sake of the two lovely kids. She was amazed to hear that I had not had sex with my wife for the last eight years. I added that I never felt like doing it. It mattered little that I was not selfish in bed; the end result was the same. 

Bina hugged me tight. I was having a hard on again. As she was finishing cooking, my cock touched her buttocks. I pressed and she seemed to like it. As she bent to pick something, I positioned myself behind her and pushed. My manhood entered her. Bina let out a cry in sheer pleasure, but composed herself promptly, disengaging herself instantly. 

"That's not on, my love. That is for the bedroom only," she stated in a matter of fact way. 

We had dinner. I was touched when she insisted on spoon feeding me. 

"That is what I used to think about, me feeding you with my own hands during our wedding feast," said Bina, with a hint of tears in her eyes. 

I joined her in mutual feeding. It was as if we were after all getting married. It was even better than that, because we would not be naked in our own wedding feast! She insisted I ate well. She kept telling me that I needed nourishment for the active night. It was easily the best dinner of my life. The dinner was interspersed with frequent smooches. Bina kept on playing with my penis, which was alternating between erection and deflation. I kept manipulating her orifice and clit with my fingers. 

Dinner over, Bina led me to the same room again. She asked me to dress up and she did the same herself. As I looked askance at her, she explained that the pleasure of disrobing each other twice over would be great indeed. She had a plan. My Bina was thinking intelligently. Once we were dressed, she picked up the intercom and called the gateman in. She instructed him to ready the guest room for me. I was perplexed. This barely gelled with her threat of whole-night activity. The Ghurkha (one of Nepalese origin) complied. She then led me to the guest room even as the Ghurkha looked on. For his benefit, she explained to me the details of facilities in the room and asked me to ring her up on the intercom if I needed anything. Then she left, along with the gateman. I was left utterly confused. 

Even as I was trying to decipher what had transpired between dinner and now, resulting in my being dumped unceremoniously in the guest room, I could hear a door in the guest room being unlatched. And there she was, in a beautiful nighty. She explained that the Ghurkhas are a snoopy lot and it was important for him to see for himself that you were sleeping in the guest room. Since the guest room and her bedroom were joined through the door, it made no difference. She then asked me, mischievously, my choice – whether I wanted it in her bedroom or in the guest room. I left it to her and she opted for the bedroom, adding for good measure that she wanted to create some wonderful moments and memories in the bedroom, which would enable erase the myriad disappointments of the past in that room. 

Bina escorted me to her bedroom through the inner door. It was a lovely room, with a majestic bed, lovely lighting and exotic upholstery. She asked me if I needed to freshen up and I nodded my assent. She led me to the attached bath, which was remarkable indeed. I whispered softly in her ears that I wanted us to freshen up together. She was game, immediately. Standing right there, we began to undress each other. This time, it was faster, though. I hugged her and saw ourselves in the huge mirror behind her. We looked gorgeous indeed, as a couple. I was hard already and my big one lay sandwiched between my abdomen and hers. Her exquisite breasts titillated me no end. 

Bina turned on the water inlets to the huge bath tub. It soon filled up two thirds. We stepped in and sat in the tub, our bodies buoyed up all the time by water. She was quick to grab her would-be pleasure piston and gave it a good shake and wash. I put my finger in her lovely pussy and she was electrified. I then washed and kneaded her ample breasts. 

"Mind having me underwater, Raj?" she asked.

I admitted I did not know how it would work but offered to try. She assured me that from whatever she had seen of me this evening, it should be superb. Much like a school boy who had not done homework, I pleaded that I had no protection. Bina was quick to pull my leg and said that she won't mind another kid, fathered by "MY" man. Without delay, she added that I need not fear and it would be ok. I knew not if she was on pills, or she had condoms at home or she had simply undergone tubectomy. But I had full trust in Bina. I quickly figured out the dynamics of our maiden intercourse. I asked her to kneel in the tub, resting her hands on the farther wall, where the taps were. She did that. Her lovely buttocks were prominently protruding towards me. I positioned myself behind her and she guided my huge penis into her womanhood, three inches below water. Bina and Raj had become one, after all. Who could have thought this would happen? The feeling was at once of pride, achievement, remorse and a challenge staring in the face. They were all relevant in their own rights. 

It was a most wonderful sensation. Bina closed around my manhood and when I lunged forward and moved backward, I could feel the satin like grip rubbing against my erection. She was remarkably tight for someone who had given birth to three kids. I had never done it underwater (in fact I had never done it in a position other than the traditional missionary position, for my wife would veto any move towards experimentation). But it was so different, so much more pleasurable. Water getting forced into Bina's pussy with each lunge made peculiar sounds, which we both loved. I gradually increased the speed and intensity of my propulsion and her pleasure mounted. She was now grunting, loudly, without inhibitions. My knees began to ache after a while and I lowered myself a bit. The angle of impact changed and the noises became shriller. 

Even as I was continuing my savage attack on her hapless pussy, Bina came. She let out a long and shrill cry. She begged me to give her a little break and a stopped instantly. I also withdrew from her, making way for Bina to sit in the tub. The sight that greeted me made the withdrawal really worthwhile. In the still water, vigorous contraction and release of her sex muscles created mysterious ripples. I could also see a stream of bubble like movement from Bina's cunt resting on the floor of the tub to the surface of water. On closer examination, we found it was her cum, plenty of it, and it formed a thick layer on the surface. Bina liked what she saw. She stated that she had wanted me to make a woman of her 25 years back. No difference. It was me, all the same, who made her a woman, even though so late. I knew, she had made a man of me as well.

We kissed each other passionately, I played with her tits and she fiddled with my erection. She then suggested we move to the bedroom. I agreed. The sight of Bina coming out of the tub, dripping copiously, was such great turn-on for an already aroused me. I followed her, and we jumped into the bed even without drying ourselves. I lay by her side and kissed her passionately. Bina wanted to know how I wished to have her and I left the choice to her again. 

"Can I come on top? I have always wanted to but he has never agreed," she complained. 

"Your wish is my command, my darling," I replied. 

I lay there, my erection almost touching the ceiling fan. I smiled as she moved. I could make out that she felt overawed by the responsibility of controlling the process. She looked a bit confused, how to go about the whole thing. She wasn't sure which side she should face. I told her we would try both and asked her to begin with face away from me, adding that the angle would be just right. She quickly positioned herself above where my manhood awaited her and gradually lowered her body. She firmly held my penis, continued her descent and her tunnel began to slowly envelope it. Bina let out a deep and loud moan. Soon, she had engulfed my full length and her buttocks rested on my thighs and crotch.