Dr.Jekyll and Mrs.Hyde

"Strong, with extra sugar," I said. I darted a glance at Bala. He stood watching us with a bemused smile. I got up and sat on the sofa in front of the waiter. I parted my thighs to give him an unimpeded view of my vulva. He handed me the cup. I sipped.

"Good madam," he said smiling.

"Good, but half a spoonful of sugar would make it excellent," I said. He accepted the cup across the table. I put my feet on the sofa with thighs separated. He had to come across while handing over the cup. I lent back further. His eyes were very close to my exposed and spread out vulva as I accepted the coffee. He bowed and left hurriedly.

"Keep the door open," I said. "He is hurrying to the rest room to jerk off," I told Bala. He laughed. This episode aroused Bala. Even as I was sipping he was beside me sucking my nipple. I sipped coffee unconcerned by the slurping sound that he producing in his excitement. I offered him a sip. He sipped and then got on his knees in front of me and started licking. I was not responding. After a while I leaned back and Bala came forwards. I had to slip down the sofa to get the alignment necessary to insert his penis into my vagina. This time it went in easily. The waiter episode had apparently stimulated some secretion in me. The door was wide open. Over Bala's shoulder I could see the corridor, but no one passed that way. Bala ejaculated. I thought I had done enough for an orgasm, but I did not get one. We slept.

In Hawaii Bala must have been disappointed with me. I who promised so much on the first night did not deliver. I was now my old prude self. But that did not prevent him from trying to emulate the actions of his porn heroes. It was amusing to see this serious and very learned man (he was six years my senior in age) having a desire for porn. I hinted that of my orifices only the vagina was available for experimentation. He accepted without demur. He found out quite soon that the porn artists were professional sex athletes that he and I were not. Woman on top was good for the penis went in all the way, but the woman has to move up and down carrying her entire weight with the feet planted in an awkward position. I was exhausted after two moves. We tried the doggie. I had to contort before he could enter and only the glans went in. Woman facing backwards did not work at all. He showed me from the clips he had saved in his laptop of how the professionals did it. It looked easy enough, but we were not able to get even to first base. But the one Bala fancied most was a clip in which two standing passengers in a crowded bus have sex. The man is entering the woman from behind, and the woman is holding the passenger support and leaning forwards but slightly. He is well and truly in and I must confess that it got even me interested. We tried and failed.

"My penis is not long enough," Bala said ruefully.

We settled down in an apartment in Austin, Texas where both of us had nine to five jobs. By I stopped trying to get motivated for sex. The lusty part of me, after that one visit, was on long vacation. I lay back and did some acting to convince Bala that I was participating. I never had an orgasm. There was no danger of pregnancy for we decided to wait for some time before having a family. I was on the pill because Bala did not like to use the condom. For a newly married couple our life was dull.

Nine months later one day I met someone I knew in Boston, a girl from Bangalore. During the course of the conversation she mentioned that Vikram had gone to India soon after he graduated. He was back again a month ago and was in San Jose in California. Thoughts of Vikram disturbed me. Of course it was not as if I had forgotten him, but now I suddenly missed him. The same day I called his office and got him straightaway.

"Vikram?"

"Laila," he almost screeched. We talked about what happened to us since the time we parted. We never referred to the event. Vikram knew that I was now married. He was single, and he was quite emphatic when he said he had no woman companion. We agreed to call again in a few days time.

That evening Bala wanted to know what made me look so sad. I said it was nothing. He left it at that. Three days later I called Vikram again. Something in me impelled me to call. We spoke for almost an hour. This time we got our rhythm right. Bala again wanted to know why I was sad. I told him I was all right. I woke up at night at about two. I felt like weeping. I went to the bathroom and sat on the stool and wept my eyes out. The next morning Bala again wanted to know what was bothering me.

"I heard you sobbing last night in the bathroom. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I said.

"No it is not nothing. I was no ordinary sobbing, like say after a bereavement."

"What can be more than that?"

"Lost love, for example." I had nothing to say. After a while Bala spoke again. "If it is thoughts of any former friend of yours that is the cause of your misery you have to meet him if he is here in the States."

"How do you know that it was former friend?"

"My sixth sense tells me."

"Meet him?"

"Yes, you have to."

"I'll be meeting him anyway in the conference at San Francisco a fortnight from now." Bala did not refer to the topic again.

I left by Greyhound to San Francisco. Bala saw me off. I do not know why but I had the feeling that we may not be meeting each other soon. He must have felt like that too for he spoke as follows:

"Any decision of yours will be acceptable to me," he said. Then he gave me the best advice I have ever had. "You live from one day to the next. That won't do. String them together to form a pattern."

3

I sleep well while travelling. The bus was turning into San Francisco bus station when I woke up. I do not think I was so excited at any time in my life. I could see the tremor in my hands. I saw Vikram standing in one corner. As I got down he came forward. I ran towards him and we hugged and kissed. We have never hugged and kissed before, but it did not seem that we were doing so for the first time. I went to the place were most women delegates were boarding. Soon we were at the conference. Most of the time we were holding hands, and from time to time when while darting glances our eyes met we smiled. I was undoubtedly in love. The only snag was that I was married to someone else. After the morning session we went for lunch where an accident occurred. One delegate overturned his tray on me. He splashed me with coffee and some cheesy stuff that was all over my hair and back. With the assistance of Vikram most of the goo came off but I had to wash and change. Vikram suggested that his hotel was near and I could bathe and put on his clothes while he would get mine washed and dried. This sounded a good suggestion and we made it to the hotel.

I went into the bathroom and undressed. Even the knickers were sodden. I put them all in a bucket and pushed it out. I got into the tub. I saw Vikram's gleaming silver and black razor leaning in one corner. I do not know what magic there was in it but it did to me what the potion did to Dr. Jekyll. From now on I was acting in a way utterly foreign to me. I took the razor and after soaping my vulva and surrounding pubis I sat on a stool and resting my feet on the tub's rim I carefully removed hair from every crevice.. I examined my self in the mirror. I was pleased with the result. I bathed and wiped and put on the shirt Vikram provided. I did not wear his pyjamas. Attired only in the thin shirt that hardly came to my mid thighs I sauntered out.

Vikram was a very decent man who knew what is the proper behaviour for a man towards a married woman. But I knew there were limits to any man's resistance. I wanted to provoke Vikram till he cracked. When he saw me he goggled. I have heard that term used often enough, but rarely have I seen it happen. His eyes opened wide. Nothing new there, but they then protruded out. I had never seen that happen before. He swallowed. His mouth must have been dry.

"Take a sip of water and steady yourself," I said. I went to the cupboard and took out a tumbler and filled it with chilled water and came up to him. He sat on a sofa and when he looked up to receive the tumbler he could not but have seen my vulva, bare and gleaming, not a foot away from his eyes. His eyes seemed to be saying 'why are you subjecting me to this trial?'

"I used your razor," I said. I lifted by the shirt and rubbed the glassy smooth surface of my pubic mound. "I was not sure what your preference was, smooth or natural. I just acted on a whim. You may have to change the blade. I was honoured to use what you have used, but you may not feel like reciprocating." I undid the buttons of the shirt. I was now fully open frontally. He appeared to be in a state of suspended animation. Not surprising when a prude to beat all prides suddenly transforms to a slut to beat all sluts.

"Speak up Vikram. You have to say something."

"I am not made of steel," he said in a hoarse voice.

"I want you to be so hot that you will melt as I already have," I said. I took a step closer to him. My hand went to his head. I entwined my fingers in his hair and gently pulled his head towards my vulva. He brought his head forward and kissed me on my slit. And then his resistance broke. He gripped my buttocks and licked me in frenzy. I slowly moved round and sat on the sofa with thighs spread. He was kneeling on the carpet, fingers separating the minor labia, and licking my clitoris. He licked and licked and I responded and then he suddenly stopped licking for a moment, and just as I was wondering why he resumed, but now in slow deep swipes. It was then that my body shivered as if powerful current was passing up and down my spine. Orgasm that was eluding me all these months now made a spectacular appearance. It came in spasms. I was moaning as I soaked it up. It was grand. I lay on the carpet with thighs widely spread desperate to receive him.

"Vikram darling, I want you me in at once," I said. He hurriedly undressed and was on top of me. His penis was large and I could see it throbbing. I caught hold of it and inserted it into my vagina. It went in smoothly for I was wet with my secretions. I moved this way and that till he was snugly in. I was burning hot, and so he must have been. He ejaculated just as I was climaxing. It was glorious. I asked him to wait and then when I waved him on. I had one more. We lay with Vikram still on top but not resting on me. He spoke.

"Will you marry me my precious?"

"I will my darling." I said. I pulled the telephone cord till the receiver fell on the carpet. I dialled.

"Bala, I am not coming back—for ever."

"Wish you happiness," he said in a tone that seemed to suggest that he was expecting the message. "Enjoy yourself. I'll arrange everything else. Bye." He rang off.

Vikram and I finally found solace in each other's arms. But one regret remains. When I think how horribly I treated the two extraordinarily decent and broadminded men who came into my life I squirm. It is my resolve that from now on I would be different. With God's help I know I can.