Go Deep Inside Me

It was about ten days later that I received the call from Preethi. "We have shortlisted some venues for the wedding. Why don't you come over and give us your final approval?"

"How about this weekend?" I asked.

"Perfect!" she exclaimed. "Text me your flight details and I will pick you up from the airport. I will also make arrangements for your stay. You can ideally come over on Friday after dusk and we can look up the places on Saturday and Sunday. You can fly back on Sunday evening or Monday morning, depending on your convenience. In case Sangeeta and Udit want to come along, they are most welcome. Just let me know the details after talking to them."

When I discussed this with Sangeeta, she said,

"You handle this, Suja, Udit and I have a lot to do. We have a large number of our family and friends who will attend and I need to coordinate their arrival and departure. Then, there is this post-wedding reception that we want to hold in Bangalore for our friends and Udit's business circle which needs to be sorted out. And don't forget, there is still a lot of wedding shopping to do, especially the jewellery we want to gift to Priyanka"

I texted Preethi my flight details, telling her that I would be the only one coming over. She messaged back,

"Can't wait to meet you. If for some reason, I am not able to pick you up myself, a car and a driver will be there at the airport. Look for someone at the exit carrying a placard with your name on it."

The flight took off very late. I sent a message to Preethi from the airport, indicating my new ETA so that she could reach the airport just around the time of my arrival. By the time I picked up my baggage from the carousel and exited the terminal, it was past 9 PM.

I could not see Preethi outside. There were numerous people, mostly chauffeurs from the various hotels in the city holding placards with the names of their guests. There was none for me. After looking around for a while, I turned on my phone I had kept in flight mode to call Preethi when someone from behind grabbed my suitcase.

I spun around, ready to hit out at the intruder trying to snatch my bag, only to look into those steely grey eyes that had once taken my breath away.

"Welcome to Chennai, let me take this for you," he said with a big smile on his face.

"Oh my god," I stuttered, "you scared me, Sayuj!" Even as I uttered these words, I realised this was the first time I was addressing him by his name. The last time we met, it was in a group and we had conversed without the need to call each other by our monickers.

"I was expecting Preethi or the driver, you took me by surprise," I continued.

"Well, Sujata, I can call Preethi, she will take more than an hour to get here. Or the driver. He is waiting in the parking lot." Sayuj had that amused look on his face.

I put on my most flirtatious smile. "If it was Preethi, I would have hugged her, if it was the driver, I would have handed over my suitcase, now what do I do with you?"

"Both!' he exclaimed and the next instant I was wrapped in a bear hug, a really tight one. When he released me, I was breathless, and I am sure he noticed. Well, he sure was gutsy, but I had asked for it.

He picked up my suitcase with his left hand and with his right, he took my left arm and started walking.

"The car is at the VIP parking, we will get to it in a couple of minutes."

The driver, who was standing next to the parked vehicle came running as soon as he saw us. He greeted me politely, took my suitcase from Sayuj and placed it in the boot.

Sayuj turned to me. "Traffic from the airport will be heavy now, it will take us an hour and a half to reach home. When did you eat last?"

"I am famished," I said, "the flight was late taking off and since it is a short flight, they did not serve any food."

"The driver will take the car to the metro station nearest to our place. We are just a couple of minutes from a new mall that has opened here. We will grab a bite at the food court, and then take the metro. It is just a ten-minute ride to Little Mount station, then we drive the rest of the way home. This way, we will save more than an hour of travel and get ourselves a meal too."

I remember us ordering dosas, those typical paper-thin pancakes with a filling of spicy mashed potatoes and onions, but don't remember eating them. I was pretty lost looking into his eyes and nodding at everything that he spoke while we dined. It was the Kumbakonam filter coffee, that brought me back to reality.

The Kumbakonam filter coffee, also known as the Degree Coffee is a rather strong beverage. The story goes, that during the time the British ruled India, an officer of the Empire happened to stop at a wayside stall in Kumbakonam, a small town in what was then called the Madras Presidency, where he was served this coffee. He was so enamoured by it, that he issued a decree that this must be the only coffee that could be served in his office. The word 'decree', over time, was corrupted to 'degree,' and the drink came to be known as the "Degree Coffee."

We sat together on the train, and I was conscious of my outer left thigh pressing against his right. I knew I was intruding into his personal space and since he did not make any effort to move away, I assumed he welcomed or or was oblivious to it. The ten-minute ride was over too soon, but when we got into his car, he sat close to me, our knees touching.

"It will take us another thirty minutes to reach home, you can take a nap if you wish," he whispered.

The "Degree Coffee" was keeping me fully awake, but I nodded, closed my eyes laid my head on his shoulders and pretended to doze off. Inwardly, I was thanking my stars that it was he who had come to pick me up from the airport. I was honest enough to accept that I was really attracted to him.

It was past 11 PM when we reached home. Priyanka was there to welcome us. They took me on a tour of their home. It was a huge house, a bungalow with a ground and first floor, a lawn and a garden in the front, a courtyard with a small swimming pool and quarters for their housekeeping staff at the back. In addition to the living room, dining space, and a large well-equipped kitchen, there were three bedrooms on the ground floor and three more on the first. The upper floor also had a study and a small, well-equipped gym. The house was tastefully decorated, with lots of paintings on the walls, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, marble flooring and genuine teakwood furniture. Yet the whole house looked simple, well-maintained and neat. It was subdued grandeur, a testimony to the success of Sayuj's business.

Sayuj excused himself, wishing us a good night. Priyanka took me to my room on the first floor, where the driver had already placed my suitcase.

"The guest rooms are on the ground floor, but we do not consider you a guest, you are one of us," she exclaimed. I hugged her tightly. Then, as I opened my suitcase, she started to help me unpack, arranging my clothes in the wardrobe. We talked of the forthcoming wedding and the plans they were making.

"Preethi Auntie stays just a couple of kilometres from here. When she received your message that your flight was late, she asked Dad to pick you up. Auntie is a morning person, she is up at 4 AM but she also has to be in bed by 9 PM. She just can't stay up late..." Priyanka laughed.

"She will be coming over for breakfast tomorrow at eight. Then both of us are driving down to Kanchipuram, to pick up a part of my wedding trousseau and sarees for close family members. We will also be picking up stuff for the ladies of the groom's family."

Indians would know that Kanchipuram is a town around sixty kilometres from Chennai. It is famous for its temples and the silk industry. Kanchipuram sarees come with a GIS tag and are known the world over for their designs, waft and weave. It made sense to buy directly from the weaver's cooperative. Not only would the prices be much less than what was charged in retail stores, there would be a wider choice of fabric and designs.

"You guys are going to have a busy day," I said.

"Yes, and if need be, we may stay overnight if our shopping isn't complete. But I will be back by Sunday evening and will see you before you leave on Monday morning. Dad will take you to the wedding venues we have shortlisted. He is quite helpless to have around when we ladies go shopping, he gets rather impatient with us. But when it comes to buying a car, a laptop or a smartphone, he can spend hours in the showroom and days visiting multiple outlets before he decides what to buy."

Having put away my dresses, she continued. "I have stocked the refrigerator in your room with water, soft drinks, chocolates, fruits and other snacks, should you feel hungry. If you need something else, do not hesitate to call me. I am in the room just opposite yours. Dad's room is at the other end, next to the gym. I see you have your gym wear with you. So please feel free to work out whenever it pleases you."

She turned to leave, hesitated a moment, then turned back and hugged me. "You are very kind and beautiful, Sujata Auntie, sometimes I wish I had known you earlier."

"You are sweet and beautiful too. We will soon be a part of the same family," I said as I held her to me and kissed her forehead. As she walked out, I saw her reflection in the foyer mirror, and it did seem to me that there was a tear in her eye, but in the subdued lighting, I could have been mistaken.

I changed into my nightie. It took a while for sleep to come to me, and that too only after I had fingered myself to a small orgasm. No prizes for guessing who the man in my fantasy was that night.

I woke up at 4:30 AM, very wet between my legs, from a fuzzy dream that I could not remember. After a quick visit to the ensuite bathroom, I made myself a small cup of coffee using the coffee maker and supplies that Priyanka had so thoughtfully placed in my room. My crowning glory was, well, my crowning glory. I have very long, black hair, luxurious in its growth which I interweaved into a thick single braid that reached down to the small of my back. I then changed into my tracksuit pants, put on my sports bra and a T-shirt, liberally dabbed on my deo and strode towards the gym.

As soon as I pushed open the door, I knew someone was inside. I could hear the steady swish of the water moving in the water wave rowing machine. Sayuj had his back to me and was rowing vigorously and rhythmically. The mirror on the opposite wall showed that his eyes were closed. In his beige sleeveless tee and black track pants, the muscles in his arms and shoulders stood out.

As I tarried at the door, admiring his physique, his rowing pace slowed, and soon came to a stop. He opened his eyes, and his lips widened into a grin. He stood up, reached out for the towel hanging on the rack nearby, dabbed at the perspiration on his face and walked towards me.

"Good morning, I have not opened my eyes to look at such a beautiful woman in a very long time," he said.

"You flatter me," I winked. He took my arm and walked me to the opposite corner.

"The exercise and yoga mats are here for your warm-up stretches. In case you need any help with the machines, just let me know. I will be around for a while but will not intrude into your privacy."

"Sayuj, I regularly work out at a gym near my place. There are always people ogling at others, either slyly at their reflection in some mirror, or just openly and directly."

He smiled. "We are friends now. I don't need to be surreptitious in gaping at you. I can look you in the eye and voice my admiration." He then waved and moved on to the lateral pull-down machine and I turned around to start on my stretches.

It was an hour later, close to 6:30 AM when I was cooling down on the spin bike that he appeared magically beside me.

"Do you often suffer from a mild pain in your middle back, just to the right of your spine?" he asked.

"Yes, I do, how did you know?"

He reached out and gently pressed the brakes on the bike, our fingers touching in the process. I stopped pedalling and let the spinning wheel come to a halt.

"Does it pain here?" He asked, moving aside my pigtail with his left hand and gently poking his right forefinger at a spot on my back, exactly where I sometimes hurt. It was a ticklish feeling, a sort of sweet ache causing me to arch my back.

He motioned me to get off, then adjusted my seat, one notch down followed by the handlebar two notches up.

"Now you are set. If you cycle with these settings, in a few days the pain will disappear. Otherwise, your back was curving a bit too much."

I smiled at him, and holding the handlebar with my left hand, I placed my right hand on his shoulder and hauled myself back onto the bike. I could have held on to the seat, but I just wanted an excuse to touch him. His hand went to my back and then to my hips as if to support me, but I knew, just as he did, that he too needed an excuse to touch me.

His hands remained on my back, exerting gentle pressure on my muscles for the next twenty minutes till I completed my exercise. Then he helped me off the bike. I could get a faint whiff of his sweat mixed with his deo and it was heady. He handed me a bottle of water, I took a swig and handed it back to him, and then he took a swig from it. I grabbed the bottle back from him and took another gulp. Laughing and wiping the perspiration from our faces with our towels, we exited the gym to ready ourselves for breakfast.

On the dot of eight, I came down to the dining area. There was no one there, so I made myself comfortable in the living room when Preethi breezed in.

"Good morning, and welcome to Chennai," she said cheerily, enveloping me in a warm hug. Then she added, "You must think we are a dysfunctional family. First I don't land up at the airport to pick you up and now this inhospitable cousin of mine has left a beautiful young lady all alone to fend for herself!"

"Oh, he has been very generous and kind. He picked me up at the airport and this morning, we spent an interesting amount of time at the gym," I declared.

Just then, Priyanka and Sayuj came down the stairs. Priyanka, like me, was in a beautiful cotton saree, as was Preethi. I could understand that they were travelling to meet the weavers in Kanchipuram, people who formed a rather traditional society, and it made sense to present themselves conventionally and traditionally instead of in Western wear.

We proceeded to the dining table. The breakfast was lavish and I complimented the cook and her assistant for the tasty dishes they had painstakingly prepared.

"What is in these?" I asked, as two hampers made their way to the dining table.

Priyanka answered. "Just some sandwiches, munchies and cold drinks for the journey. I have packed some fruit juices and spicy buttermilk. It is a hot day and we all have long trips to make." Then with a cheery wave, she picked up one hamper, and along with Preethi, set off on her trip.

That left Sayuj and me. "You can carry a change of clothing if you wish," he said. I looked at him, an eyebrow raised in askance. He explained.

"Preethi has booked a "day use" cottage at one of the resorts. She is like that. Though we are not going too far from the city, she likes to be prepared for everything. At the last minute, there was a change of plans and she and Priyanka decided to go to Kanchipuram. But the room is still available."

I went upstairs and packed some additional casual wear and some cosmetics. As I would find out soon, it was a very good decision.

I had expected a driver to be present and was surprised when Sayuj opened the door to the front passenger seat of his Mercedes for me with a flourish. "I am your chauffeur for the day, ma'am," he said gallantly.

"Thank you, kind sir," I curtsied and then stepped into the car.

"I asked Preethi and Priyanka to take the driver with them. The other driver is on leave," he offered by way of an explanation.

"I am sure I will be safe in your hands," I flirted with a double entendre, but by then he had started the car and was pulling out of the driveway.

The traffic in Chennai, as in most Indian cities, is often chaotic. As soon as we hit the highway, the famous East Coast Road or ECR as it is known, he picked up speed. Yet he stayed just under the speed limit, driving at a steady pace, his eyes focused on the road.

ECR is a scenic toll road. As you leave the outskirts of the city behind, it runs along the coast. The blue-green waters of the Bay of Bengal are a treat to watch. Around high tide, the waves that rise on the sea surface can be pretty intimidating. Yet you could see, dotted on the sea, catamarans of the local fisherfolk riding the waves as they went about their daily trawling activities. The shoreline was still far away from the road and the intervening space full of Casuarina trees.

"I would love to walk on the beach," I exclaimed.

"All in good time," he replied, then added. "You Bangalore folks don't get to enjoy the sea, and we Chennai guys never get tired of it. So I have reserved that for our last stop."

The first place he had shortlisted was not a resort but a kind of convention centre that was also designed to hold weddings. It was huge, rich and opulent. As we discussed the facilities that were available with the banquet manager, we realised that the set-up did not have adequate rooms to accommodate the outstation wedding guests. But there were adequate hotels and guesthouses in the vicinity and we would have to make separate arrangements with them.

The second resort had adequate rooms that we could book for the guests, but it somehow lacked a vibrancy, as Sayuj put it. I agreed with him.

"I think you will like the next one," he said as we got into the car. "This is going to be a long ride, of about thirty minutes," he continued, as he reached out and turned on the car stereo system. The music, of course, was romantic movie songs from the sixties and seventies and I began to sing along, looking out of the window at the panoramic coastline.

Suddenly I realised that it was just me singing. He had quite stealthily and slowly, using the music controls on his steering wheel, lowered the volume of the speakers. I turned to look at him, and he signalled with his hand to just carry on. I was singing for an audience of one, and he seemed to be loving it.

We turned off the highway into a two-lane road, moving towards the coast for about a couple of kilometres, to reach the resort. It was a sprawling five-star property belonging to a very well-known and established worldwide chain of hotels, and it showed, right from the moment we entered the small private road that led to it.

Somebody opened the door on my side, a valet picked up the keys from Sayuj so that the car could be parked and a bellboy picked up my bag and the hamper from the rear seat. The doorman opened the door with a graceful bow and a lobby manager hurried up to Sayuj as we entered. It was obvious that Sayuj was known to the people here.

As they bid us welcome, the manager handed over a key card. "Sir, Madam, your cottage is ready, Number three, just across the restaurant, past the swimming pool," he said, waving his hand towards the right.

The scene was breathtaking. We were at a higher level, a short flight of steps led to the swimming pool around which was a walkway towards the cottages.

"You may want to freshen up," he said, handing me the key card. "Join me in the lobby once you are done, then we can look up this place."

I was glad he was so considerate. I badly needed to use the restroom. Once the bellboy had placed our luggage in the room and left, I looked around. There was a large bay window that looked out to the sea and the sand, almost as if the cottage had its own private beach. The adjoining bedroom was huge and the refrigerator was well stocked. It was after all a classy five-star hotel.