Love Letters. Mumbai Male

(This is a work of fiction and all characters are consenting adults.

I write because it gives me pleasure. My initial writings drew greatly from my own experiences. But as I progressed, I learnt not to fetter my imagination, but to give it wings, to take it to places you have only dreamt of. That's why I have experimented with different perspectives, preferring not to use names, so that the readers can easily put themselves in the place of the protagonist or any of the characters, building a strong identification with them. I am an amateur and a learner and would love your feedback as it is worth its weight in gold, and enable me to craft a richer experience for us all.

The characters in this story are the same as that of my earlier work, "Flights of Imagination". It can be read independently or in conjunction with that story. I hope I have succeeded in my quest, and you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.)

When I returned from Singapore, I was furious. I had missed him terribly and even poured my heart out in a letter to him, and he had not even deigned to reply. For a few days, I maintained an ice maiden demeanor, giving him a frosty stare, not even acknowledging his presence, looking right through him as he grovelled at my feet. He looked so pained and conflicted like he would burst into tears at any moment.

And one fine day he did in response to a particularly nasty aside, that had me regretting it, even as it left my mouth. A solitary tear coursed down the corner of his eye, down his left cheek and he turned away, not wishing to make a spectacle of himself, burying his face in his shoulder trying to muffle his sobs. I felt terrible for having done this to him, almost breaking his heart, however much I felt he had deserved this and wished that the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

I put my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away, his sobs only getting louder, as the intensity of his grief shuddered through his being. I could take it no more, the pretense of being aloof was amusing in the beginning, but now washed away in a flood of tears that washed down my face, as I realized the heartbreak I had caused this wonderful man who meant the world to me.

Somehow he sensed that I was crying too, and turned around gathering me in his embrace, trying to kiss away the tears that were streaming down my face, even as he couldn't stop bawling himself. I opened my mouth to say something, but he put a finger to my lips just holding me tight, cocooning me in his arms. I felt so comfortable and secure in his cuddly warmth, that even after my heartbeat slowed and the tears stopped, I refused to let go of him. He was more than happy to hold me like this again, relieved that I still harbored feelings for him, and a smile broke out brightening his visage once more.

I brought my lips to his, engaging in a kiss, our first after more than a fortnight.

I was as hungry for him as he was for me, and soon what had started out as a tender kiss, soon became more vigorous and our tongues were wrestling with each other as the intensity of our desire peaked. We were in a park, and although there was no one around, we felt it was safer to go home and be intimate in more comfortable surroundings.

So off we went, on his scooter, me sitting behind him astride. I held him tight, clasping my hands around his chest, not wanting to let go, pushing my breasts into his back. My hands felt his nipples stiffen as I stroked his front, teasing them as mine poked into his back. As I let my hand drop lower, it met a bulge tenting up in his pants, and I smiled to myself, feeling a familiar wetness seep into my loins as well.

His home was a short distance away and there was nobody there besides his grandmother and maid, the rest of the family away on holiday. I licked my lips in anticipation of a long night of pleasure as "when the cat's away the mice will be at play." He called the maid to prepare some coffee, but I volunteered to do it whilst he repaired to his room.

As soon as it got ready, I knocked and letting myself in, said in my most seductive voice, " So, what will it be, coffee, tea, or me?", giving him a sultry come hither look that would be difficult for anybody to resist. But I found him in a different zone altogether, as he motioned me to sit next to him on the bed. I had never seen him in such a mood before as he was always game often initiating foreplay despite my pretensions of fighting it off. Puzzled, I sat besides him, curiosity peaking.

His voice was choked with emotion, as he started to speak, stuttering quite a few times, having to stop mid sentence to compose himself. He held my hand tenderly as he opened his heart out to me. He told me about his childhood, when he was so shy and tongue tied that he could barely speak, preferring to remain in the shadow of his brothers to finding his own voice. His eyes misted over as he said that proposing to me was the bravest thing that he had ever done, and when I accepted he was over the moon, leaping with joy.

He had my letter, which I had written to it, in his hand and used to read it every night, taking in a whiff of my perfume and putting his lips to my lipstick marks within before he went to bed, dreaming of me in his arms. He had almost committed it to memory, his eyes misting, voice trembling as he recited it to me looking deep into my eyes without as much as a glance at it's contents.

" Darling,

I've been in Singapore only one night and I'm already missing home so much. I was terrified on the flight as it took off closing my eyes and gripping the seat handle so tight, I was afraid that I would wrench it off. I was embarrassed when I opened my eyes and I saw my neighbor looking at me with concern, asking if I was all right. He smiled when I told him that I had never flown before, and said that I would soon get used to it. But if we were meant to fly we would have wings on our back, though I must say the airline service was impeccable.

I reached Singapore and by the time I got to the hotel it was already afternoon. It is really a beautiful place and my room on the eighteenth floor is quite luxurious to put it mildly. I feel like royalty and the view is breathtaking. At night I feel really scared and shut the curtains, feeling dizzy looking down. I am not used to sleeping alone, even at home and though the bed is soft and comfortable didn't get much sleep.

Maybe it is the jet lag, maybe I am homesick, or something else entirely, but my thoughts were only of you. I wish you were here next to me, though knowing the kind of person you are, and speaking from personal experience over the last couple of months, you wouldn't allow me to get a single wink of sleep, constantly being up to some mischief. I really wish that you didn't have your exams and could be here with me.

The course itself is boring as hell teaching us concepts that we learnt in school itself. The only consolation is the yummy snacks and extensive buffet, though I tend to overindulge and often find it hard to suppress a yawn when the course is on. The hotel is quite central with a big mall next door that leaves me amazed with the sheer variety on display. For a small city it is really quite modern and safe too.

There is a food court in the mall that we go to for dinner sometimes and a supermarket too. But mom has packed so much food that even after I feed myself and my friends I probably will have to get some back home. And things seem expensive, when you convert it into rupees as I unconsciously find myself doing all the time. There are a few Bangladeshi and Pakistanis in the course and we get along well often shopping together and have made plans for sightseeing this weekend.

But I long to spend my evenings with a special someone, whom I love and long to be with. See if you can join me in Singapore towards the end of my course after your exams are over and we could make a stopover in Bangkok on the way back. You won't regret it and I promise you a special treat.

Please at least write to me. If I remember correctly you used to dictate highly romantic letters during our articleship together and I look forward in anticipation to receiving some here, if not the surprise of you in person. Lots of hugs, kisses and everything else you can dream of (only on paper).

Love

XXX"

As he ended his recital he was choked with emotion and brought the letter to his lips, putting them to my lipstick marks on the paper, as he had done countless times earlier during the past fortnight. My eyes were brimming over as well, and I took the letter aside and brought my lips to meet his, as we kissed with a passion that we had never experienced before breaking off only to breathe. I laughed, asking him why did he want to kiss the letter when I was right besides him.

He motioned me to look at the letter again closely and I saw that parts of it were blurred. I admonished him saying that he could at least have taken a little more care of it, seeing that I poured my heart out to him and didn't even merit a reply. He said it wasn't water droplets, but his tears that had blurred my words. He had committed it to memory and the words were imprinted in his heart. He wished that he could have joined me, and was indeed looking forward to it. But the exams had been a disaster and he doubted he was worthy of my love. The tears were testament to his despondency and his dejection, as he felt I deserved better and not a loser like him.

My heart was overwhelmed with his moving tale and I felt myself falling deeper in love with this man, surprised that he couldn't see the passion and reverence that I felt for him in my eyes. I was dumbstruck and didn't know what to do except kiss him again, ambushing him with my amour. I asked him point blank if he was interested in me or my qualifications, and would he love me any less if I was in his place and he, mine.

He was speechless and that clinched it as I held him in a tight hug to take away any vestiges of the pain that remained. As we released our grip, I saw the coffee lying on the table, and rose to warm it. But he caught my hand, refusing to let me go, joking that cold coffee was at a premium to the warm brew. And as long I had the hots for him nothing else mattered. We drank from the same mug, and as we put it down he laughed seeing my milk mustache.

As I tried to wipe it off with my kerchief, he motioned me to wait, and licked it off with his lips himself ending in yet another kiss. Glad to see him back to his old self again, I didn't even put up a pretense of resistance, melting into his arms, as we realized that we were made for each other and nothing could keep us apart. He pushed home his advantage getting frisky again, but I motioned him to wait just a little longer as his grandma was at home and we would be called out for dinner soon. I was his now, utterly and completely; and getting hitched was only a formality that I knew was inevitable.

I spent the next couple of hours regaling him about my adventures in Singapore and Bangkok, dwelling on the naughty bits a little too long, to tease him and make him realize what he had missed. I left out no steamy detail of my adventures with my Bangladeshi roommate and his eyes widened in amazement as he never expected me to be so forward, as I reveled in all the salacious recollections.

I could see his pants tenting up as his organ reared up, wishing to experience the erotic adventures and put my learning to the test without any delay. I was getting wet too and he reached out to me to quell the fires that I had ignited. Just then the maid called from without, that dinner was ready, and we were just about saved by the bell. That put a dampener on our passions, as we smoothed out our clothes and waited for our overheated bodies to cool down, checking to confirm that no visible marks of our passion remained to embarrass us.

As we joined his nani for dinner, she was glad to see me enveloping me in a warm hug as I greeted her. She asked me about my trip and I recounted my adventures, leaving the steamy bits out. She nudged me, pointing towards him saying that he had become morose, when I was away, neither eating nor sleeping well; and that now that I was back the glow had returned to his face. She said it was getting late and that I should probably stay the night, sleeping in the adjacent room.

I smiled to myself, knowing for sure that sleep would be a rare commodity that night and that he knew that I hated sleeping alone; I was sure to have a nocturnal visitor. We had a simple but delicious dinner, spending some more time with his granny till it was time for her to retire to her bed. As soon as his granny was out of sight, he was up to his old tricks again.

I motioned to him to exercise restraint as the maid was still around, pleading with him to wait just a little while more. The maid came in to clear the dishes, giving us a knowing look that made me blush in embarrassment. I helped clear the table and made a call to my parents trying to sound as calm as I could that his grandmother insisted it was too late to come home, and insisted that I spend the night at his place.

All the boxes ticked, I retired to my room to change. He wanted to come in to see me, but I prevented him from doing so, bolting it from within as he pleaded for just a glimpse. I teased him saying I would go to sleep with his grandma if he persisted in being difficult, enjoying his discomfort in a sadistic way but promising to make it worth his while if he behaved.

The two rooms shared a common bathroom with a passage connecting them. I quickly went within and shed myself of all my clothes. My panties were slightly wet from my leaking juices so I had to rinse them, putting them to dry on the hook as a treat for him when he came in to change. As I examined my body in the bathroom mirror I was aroused at the amazing package that stared back at me.

I practiced my pout and juggled my breasts enjoying the current as my hands brushed my erect nipples. I sat on the pot and cleaned out my slit, knowing it wasn't going to be dry for long, and wondered how delighted he'd be to see it bare, my hands unconsciously fingering my erect clit getting me wet again. I wore a satin nighty, going commando within, to tease him some more. Finally brushing my teeth, I stepped out, peeking into his room.

He had removed his clothes and was stroking his cock absentmindedly sitting on the bed, no doubt thinking about me, when I cleared my throat, alerting him to my presence. He quickly put on his pajamas, but I wished him goodnight turning around to go to my room. He followed me like Mary's little lamb as I wiggled my ass at him. He said that he had a surprise for me, but thinking that he was up to his old tricks, I said that I had already seen it in his hands.

He was genuinely hurt that I didn't believe him, and morosely turned around to return to his room. I was contrite and didn't expect him to cave in without any resistance, following him to apologize. But he had reckoned with this and as soon as I entered the room, he latched the door behind me and now I was at his mercy. He sat me down on the bed and as I closed my eyes anticipating his touch on my body he gave it to me.

It was a letter that he pressed into my palm, and at first I thought it was the one I had written to him. But it was in his own hand; he asked me to go ahead and read it. He had written to me on the very night that I had departed but didn't have the nerve to post it, not wishing to feel too forward or make me feel more miserable, when he read my missive on how much I missed him. I opened it with great anticipation.

"The love of my life,

I am just home after leaving you at the airport, and I am missing you already. I don't know how I am going to manage being apart from you for even a day, let alone a fortnight as it feels like my heart has been wrenched out of my body. I feel like saying, to hell with everything, and jumping on to the next flight just to be close to you.

But then I think, does it befit me to act this way. I feel like a hormonal crazy teenager, as I try and put myself in your shoes, but only keep on thinking of getting in your panties. I know I have a one track mind, but I can't help it, you have that magical effect on me, the very thought of you making me stiff, as I dig into my storehouse of memories, most of which I have accumulated during the last couple of months.

I then do what I usually do when we are apart. I go to my cupboard and pick up any of the garments in which your personal aroma lingers. Usually your intimate garments have a stronger remnant of your pheromones, that drives me crazy. Just a whiff of your scent does the trick and as I close my eyes my imagination takes over and does the rest.

You can very well understand what I am talking about. I get a very vivid picture of you in my mind's eye as I stroke my tumescent prick, enjoying the sensations that rise up in my loins. In my mind I picture myself undressing you like a striptease in slow motion, as different facets of your voluptuous body come into view exciting me and sending me into rapture.

But it is your eyes that look at me with such love that are the biggest turn on even more than the other obvious ones lower down. And your knees, so smooth and perfect that make me drip even as I think of them. Now you've really got me started, heating me up and pushing all my buttons.

I love to sniff your underarms concentrated with your scent that drives me crazy. And your cute little belly button nestled in your soft tummy has me wanting to sink into it. There are parts of you that I haven't seen, but explored with my fingers, so sensitive to my every touch. Like your breasts as I can visualize them in my mind's eye, mounds of pristine white, each topped with a luscious red cherry, stiffening to my touch As for your tits, I wish I could suckle on them, burying my head into their soft confines.

Your perfect derriere with that wiggle that drives me mad as it sways graciously as you walk. And your tight little asshole nestled between your butt cheeks that I am itching to finger and bring your strong scent to my nose (you may find this bit disgusting, but I find every part of you, from the tip to the toe worthy of veneration)

I have saved the best for last, your womanhood, shrouded behind a veil of tendrils, so warm and inviting whenever you allow my fingers to explore your depths. I'd like to imagine that you have cleared the shrubbery down there and are smooth like a baby's cheeks. Your slit, so inviting and luscious with glimpses of pink flesh peeking from behind those lower lips, beckoning me to unfurl them like petals of a flower, attracting a bee to it's center lush with pollen.

I imagine myself dipping my head to your core, and eating you out , pushing my tongue into your warm wet depths, flicking your clit and finding your g spot driving you wild with desire as you tug my hair and bite at your lower lip in a bid to restrain your passion as wave upon wave of pleasure wash over you and you squirt, coating my face with your baby batter. We achieve a level of bliss as I derive as much pleasure from it as you do, as we two merge into one.

But we are not done as yet. You loosen my drawstring, letting my dragon out of its lair, standing tall and erect, ready for duty, spouting a liquid creme to ease it's ingress into depths that have not yet been plunged. You lower your lovely head and I can feel your warm breath on me, as you study it with wide eyed fascination.

You start with a series of slow licks, and slowly engulf the beast in your rosy red lips, driving me mad with sensations that make me feel I have died and gone to heaven. I am now beyond the point of no control, as your head bobs up and down trying to suck the seed out of me and tame the monster. I spurt out, calling your name as I cum, and feel as if I have merged into you, dissolved into one.