Go Deep Inside Me

"I am so sorry, but you are hurting me!"

His eyes softened immediately, his hand released my tresses and he hugged me tightly to his chest, so tight that I had difficulty breathing. I could hear his heart beat wildly and I knew, I had unknowingly touched a raw nerve.

"Don't you ever wish you ever her." His voice sounded guttural and menacing. it scared me and I immediately knew I had to take charge of the situation.

"Talk to me honey, tell me why my words caused you this distress. You know I will not hurt you knowingly," I begged, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Kiss me first, I want a deep and long kiss." I kissed him as if my life depended on it, determined that I would not be the first to disengage. Soon my wrestling tongue was aching, but I hung on, my lips crushing his. I was panting and out of breath when he finally released me.

When his head nestled between my breasts, I knew he wanted to talk. Then the abruptness of his next statement shocked me out of my wits.

"Priyanka is not my daughter," he whispered. Then seeing the astounded look on my face, he clarified.

"I mean, she is my daughter in every way, I have brought her up, spent sleepless nights when she was ill, helped her with her schoolwork, trained her to face life with courage, mentored her to think and act rationally, taught her to be kind and to love unconditionally... but I am not her biological father."

"She loves you to death, she adores you, she worships you, Sayuj."

"Of course she does, she is MY daughter, she is me. So what if she does not have my genes?"

I cradled his head as tears continued to course down my face. "Tell me the story from the beginning," I entreated.

"She went to Mumbai for work." I noticed that he was reluctant to take her name. Then I realised that Priyanka too had never mentioned her mother by name. It also occurred to me that there were no pictures of her in their home either.

His narration continued. "By the late afternoon, the TV channels were constantly broadcasting the terrorist attacks on the suburban trains, the lifeline of the city. I had no reason to worry because there was no way she could have been anywhere near the trains. I did call her but after the disaster, the lines were choked and calls were just not going through.

The call came around midnight from the Mumbai Police. They had some identity documents from a handbag they had found. They asked if I could come down and identify the owner from the casualties. I took the first flight out. I came back with a coffin. I was shattered and so was my family. I loved her and she loved me.

It was a couple of days after the cremation that I found an envelope on my bedside table. It had my name on it in her handwriting and she had probably propped it up against the reading lamp before she left. It had slipped down and I had not noticed it. The gist of the two-page letter inside was just this. She had been in love with someone else, but that hadn't worked out. She settled for an arranged marriage with me and I was everything that she could have wished for in a husband. She enjoyed life with me and she said she was soon in love with me. The sex was amazing. But a couple of years later, he was back in her life.

Her official trips to her head office in Mumbai, from where she had transferred to Chennai after our wedding, also turned into getaways with him. She thought she was pregnant with my baby till the baby was delivered. The baby did not have my eyes, or a darker skin colour, though all of us were pretty sure the baby resembled the mother. DNA tests cost the moon and had not been easy two decades ago, but a surreptitious blood test had confirmed that Priyanka's blood group was A whereas both of us were B."

I kissed his forehead and his cheeks, encouraging him to continue. With a weary voice, he did.

"The letter just said that she wanted a divorce by mutual consent. She wanted to start life anew with her baby and the baby's father. She acknowledged that I would have difficulties parting with Priyanka, but it was better for all of us and Priyanka needed to be with her biological parents. She was too young and would soon forget me. It was then that I realised that she had taken the train to be with her lover, for that would have been a faster mode of transport.

Preethi and her husband rallied behind me. They were confident that Priyanka's biological father would not come for her. But I had some investigations done. That man was an ex-colleague of hers who had changed over to another job. He did not have the financial resources nor the inclination to be a single parent. But just to be safe, by pulling a few strings, using the letter and declaring the father to be untraceable, I had Priyanka legally adopted. All I had from a six-year marriage was a beautiful legally adopted daughter. and wow, what a daughter she has turned out to be!"

"Priyanka knows, doesn't she?" I knew the answer but I had to ask.

"When she turned twenty-one, I told her the truth and showed her the letter her mother had left behind. I repeatedly assured her that the entire family and I considered her to be my daughter and an important part of our family. She understood because she had always had the family's love and support. She was indomitable, there were no tears from her. Yet her reaction was classic. Only one photograph of her mother existed in our house and it was in her room. That picture disappeared that day."

I knew we would have other conversations about Sayuj's life but as of now, he did not have anything more to say. His face lay between my breasts and I gently offered a nipple to him, allowing myself to mother him and let him suckle me. He seemed grateful for the gesture and soon his right hand started to caress my thighs and then explore my pussy. My hand went to his penis, stroking him to hardness. By now we were lovers who knew each other's needs. He stroked me to orgasm and I came crying out his name. I knew he was close when his sucking turned into a gentle bite around my nipple.

"Come for me, my love," I said, kissing his forehead and rhythmically increasing the speed of stroking.

"Uuuuunh yes, only for you," he groaned, erupting like a volcano. His white-hot lava repeatedly spurted high only to fall on my bare thighs and kurta-covered tummy. The remnants cascaded down the sides onto my fist. His lips were now free from my breasts and I pressed mine against them. I slowed my pace to match the frequency of his quivering shaft, as I milked him dry and then my body collapsed on his chest. In the next few minutes, he was asleep. I remember putting my sticky hand to my breasts, happy that I had aided his catharsis. When I stirred again, dawn was breaking.

Lunch with Sangeeta and Udit was pretty uneventful. We discussed the wedding and the activities that remained to be done. From Sayuj, I had come to know that Priyanka had already confided in Vikram about her parentage and we decided that the couple should handle it in whatever way they chose with Vikram's family. I wasn't concerned since Sangeeta and Udit were very broadminded and they loved Priyanka.

It was only when we were leaving that Sangeeta spoke gently to Sayuj.

"Sujata has had a tough life, take good care of her."

His response was to hold me close to him and say,

"She is mine as long as she wants to be, so don't worry about her. I will allow her to dictate the terms of this relationship, and we know each other's expectations."

"Sujata can work from home, take her with you back to Chennai for a week or two," was her parting message as we got into his car.

I drove Sayuj around to some of the tourist spots of Bangalore. We visited Tipu Sultan's summer place. Tipu Sultan is regarded as a freedom fighter, having taken on the might of the British when they ruled India, eventually being killed by them in the 4th Mysore War in 1799. Then I took him to Lal Bagh or the Red Garden, a huge botanical garden initiated by Hyder Ali, the father of Tipu Sultan who later on completed the project. The garden was managed by the British when they ruled India and is now cared for by the state government. The traffic was too heavy so we got back early. Sayuj wanted me to sing for him and we spent a romantic evening in my living room, with his head on my lap and my crooning some classical and light film songs.

We made tender love twice that night. "I love you," he whispered as we lay in the afterglow of our love-making. "I love you more, I whispered back, interlacing my words with soft kisses to his lips.

The next afternoon, Sayuj took me back with him to Chennai. Priyanka rushed out when she heard the car in the driveway, running to the driver's side to welcome Sayuj, when I yelled, "Surprise" as I got out from the passenger side. She shrieked with joy on seeing me, bounding over to hug me.

Then she chided Sayuj. "Dad, you could have told me you were bringing Sujata Auntie, I would have got her room ready....." and she trailed off... ending with...

"Oh my god, how stupid of me!"

Sayuj hugged her and affectionately pinched her nose. Then we went inside for dinner.

I woke up in the middle of the night. In the dim light of the night lamp, I could make out the gentle breathing of the man I was now in love with. He was so cute, and he didn't even snore. Seventeen years older than me and he was as fit as I and verily a lion in bed. I had forgotten my sex toys, my fingers as well as the rest of me were now only for him. I wanted him every moment and I was quite sure that though the frequency of our love-making was bound to recede as we became more comfortable with each other and the drudgeries of life took precedence, the intensity of our love and passion would not change. By daybreak, I had figured out what I must do.

The opportunity presented itself the very next evening. Priyanka was on her laptop, designing her wedding invitation card. She was furiously texting Vikram, mailing him the latest version she had created and awaiting his feedback, as Sayuj and I looked on indulgently. When they finally agreed on a format, she turned her laptop towards us. Sayuj was impressed, and so was I. She had chosen her design and fonts very well. Undoubtedly a creative mind, the card bore a rich and dignified layout. It had a mix of tradition and modernity.

Sayuj Iyengar, along with his extended kin,

cordially invite you and your family to the wedding of his daughter

Priyanka with Vikram

...... the card read, detailing the date, time and venue of the wedding.

"Can I suggest a small change?" I ventured rather timidly.

"Of course Auntie, you know we value your opinion," Priyanka replied.

I turned her laptop towards me, tapped a few keys and then when I had what I wanted, I turned it around to show her the changes.

Priyanka stared at the screen, her mouth opening into a cute surprised 'Oh' as her eyes grew big. I could see her breathing turn heavy as she realised what was happening. She looked at Sayuj, but he was busy looking at his phone.

"You really mean this?" she demanded, in a voice beginning to choke with emotion.

I nodded. The next moment found her vaulting across the dining table like a gymnast, falling into my arms and sobbing uncontrollably. A shocked Sayuj dropped his phone, exclaiming, "What the fuck...!"

I held Priyanka tightly as my tears began to flow. Knowing he would not get answers from us at the moment, he peered at the laptop screen. With a shocked expression, his eyes went back and forth between the laptop and us. For the invitation card now read;

Sujata and Sayuj Iyengar, along with their extended kin,

cordially invite you and your family to the wedding of their daughter

Priyanka with Vikram

......

Priyanka released me only to fall into her father's arms. "Thank you, Dad, for finding my mother," she sobbed. Then she quickly wiped her tears.

"I need to go to my room, I will leave you both together for a while..." Taking the steps two at a time, she rushed upstairs.

Sayuj turned to me. His serious eyes turned mischievous. "I would normally kill anyone who made my daughter cry, but you are so beautiful."

"You are not mad at me?"

"You surprised me, I was planning to propose to you with a very innovative piece of jewellery that I had in mind. No, not a ring, though I would get you that too."

I moved into his arms and his lips commenced kissing my teary cheeks, eventually locating my mouth. I pulled away momentarily.

"Sweetheart mine, the staff will see us." Then I said to myself, "What a stupid thing to utter, as though it matters," and I succumbed to his kiss.

Things started to move fast. We decided to marry at the registrar's office. There is a mandatory one-month waiting period after we apply for a marriage certificate. Priyanka, Vikram, Sangeeta, Udit, Preethi and her husband wanted a ceremonial wedding. But I wanted none of it. I did not want to take away from the grandeur of the youngster's wedding that we were actively planning. Then I wanted to officially assume the position of Priyanka's mother so that I could participate in the wedding rituals.

Sayuj got me a beautiful gold necklace that comprised thin small gold discs interwoven like the scales of a fish. In place of a pendant, was a small clasp almost hidden behind the central disc. Sayuj fussed around while fastening it around my neck, but I knew, being a breast man, he was just copping some feels.

Everyone, including the registrar of marriages, said we were the most beautiful couple they had ever seen. I could understand that when it came to our family, so I guess the registrar said that to every couple which came before him. But yes, I did feel beautiful in my deep red Kanchipuram silk and Sayuj looked dashing in his navy blue suit. As soon as we signed the marriage register, Udit and Sangeeta signed as witnesses from my side, with Preethi and her husband signing for Sayuj.

Then with a flourish, Priyanka produced a small jewellery case and opened it before us. A gold pendant in filigree work with a huge solitaire in the centre greeted me. Everyone 'oohed and ached at the intricate workmanship which I soon realised was designed as a 'Mangalsutra,' an ornament that is worn by a married Indian woman.

The Mangalsutra is traditionally tied around the bride's neck by her husband, but in a deviation from custom, Sayuj attached it delicately to the hidden clasp of my necklace. Sayuj and Sujata were now husband and wife.

We had a wedding lunch at the best five-star hotel in Chennai, The Grand Chola, named after a great ancient emperor who ruled southern India.

I took four weeks of leave from work to prepare for Priyanka's wedding and my workplace also transferred me to Chennai. Sangeeta was a bit saddened, but then she was also happy for me.

Priyanka's and Vikram's wedding was a dream. With our meticulous planning, the guests enjoyed their stay and the ceremonies. Many complimented us stating this was the best wedding they had ever attended. My hands were adorned with 'Mehendi', the intricate henna patterns that India is famous for. I danced my heart out at the 'Sangeet' ceremony. Dressed grandly in a traditionally draped nine-yard saree that is worn for formal cultural and religious occasions, adorned with gold and diamond jewellery as befitting the bride's mother, I took part in every wedding ritual. Priyanka looked so beautiful when Vikram tied the Mangalsutra around her neck to the beating of the 'Molam' or drums and the blowing of the 'Nadaswaram' a traditional clarinet-like musical instrument.

The festivities came to a close and the guests were seen off. Then as Priyanka and Vikram prepared to leave for their honeymoon, she came up to me and pretended to whisper but said rather loudly, "Mom, remember, you have two years." then giggling, she kissed me, hugged her father and grabbing Vikram's hand, ran off to the car waiting to take them to the airport.

"What was that all about?" Sayuj asked.

"Just a secret between mother and daughter," I said.

"My daughter and my wife now have secrets from me?" Sayuj queried in mock indignation.

I rested my head against his chest and put my arms around his waist. "Sujata will never have secrets from you. Priyanka and Vikram are planning to start their family three years from now, and she insists her sibling has to be older than her baby."

Then I looked up into his eyes. "My pills got over yesterday and I am not refilling the prescription."

That was all that my lion needed. Forty weeks later he was in the delivery room holding my hand and caressing my face as I screamed and pushed a three-kilogram bundle of joy out of me.

"He is yours, kind sir," I declared, when they brought our son, all cleaned and wrapped up to me. Looking into those tiny steel grey eyes that stared unblinkingly at us, I continued,

"He is just like his father, he had me exhausted and exhilarated at the same time!"

The hospital staff turned discreetly away as my husband's lips descended on mine. ________________________________________

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