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.

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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.