Mary's Awakening

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Barely fifteen days after Kevin was born, Mary took a new job at a place far from home. Setting out early in the mornings, she returned late in the evenings, leaving her newborn infant in the trusted care of her widowed mother. Each morning she kissed her son goodbye with a heavy heart, as he lay asleep in the cot that she shared with her mother and Kevin. However, the knowledge that there was just no other way out kept her going from one day to another.

Life had not been kind to Mary as far as she could recall. An alcoholic father, a weak helpless mother, a meaningless marriage to bail the family out of trouble and finally the desertion by her bigamous husband were the only hallmark of her 23 years of existence. So when she persuaded her mother to move residence to some place where no one would know their antecedents, where they could start life all over again.

There was a strange element of irony to Mary's life. Mother Nature had been excessively kind to her, her face, skin had soft sheer quality of satin, and silk carved in the mould of a beauty whose allure lingered in the memory long after she had left the place. Her body contoured to perfection was the stuff sculptors spent sleepless nights over. However, in place of a soft gentle heart of desirable woman was encrusted a bitter residue of hurt and trust betrayal. The dresses she wore, the plain face without any makeup, which she presented to the world and the tight grimace her lips had settled into, all bore testimony to her resolve, never, never to appear attractive.

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Mr. Evans, 26 years of age was a formidable, almost intimidating managing director of the enormous tailoring set up that catered to international buyers, was impressed with her professional competence and that air of aloofness, which set her apart from rest of the other girls. Mr. Evans was know as a man of steel, very cold, very distant, almost a robot.

Somewhere around the second week after Mary joined, an unexpected disruption in her schedule changed Mary's life dramatically. The ladies cloakroom, for some strange reason, was locked and the keys, mysteriously, were untraceable. Mary was in tremendous pain despite which she tried to hold on to her self-control for as long as possible. Finally, unable to bear it she charged into Mr. Evans's room and with tear-filled eyes pleaded with him.

"Sir, I need to use your toilet, please." With saying so, she rushed inside, her handbag clasped tightly below her arm, not even waiting to shut the door behind her.

Two minutes later, she let a loose gasp that was swiftly followed by a moan. A surprised Mr. Evan suddenly jolted out of his seat. Running towards the source of that cry, he discovered Mary standing in front of mirror, a helpless look in her eyes.

"Mary, are you all right?" Mr. Evans asked in a concerned tone.

She looked wordlessly at him, a look of tremendous suffering on her.

"I forgot something," she said.

"What?"

After a brief silence she burst out, "The pump, the pump. God, they hurt so much, the pain, I can't bear it."

Realization dawned on Mr. Evans suddenly. Mary's blouse was wet. Her breasts were swollen with untapped milk. He marched to the door of his room and securing the lock firmly in place, he led Mary to the couch.

"Can I help you in any way?" he asked.

Mary didn't know what he meant, but her agony was so unbearable, she was willing to try anything.

"Just think of me as a doctor to whom you've come for treatment, you'll be more comfortable then."

Her pain rendered her speechless and she merely watched as he unbuttoned her blouse, unclasped her bra and gently massaged her breasts. It seemed to make the pain worse and she began to cry.

"Mary I have to do what I'm about to do. There is no other way."

He brought his lips to her nipples. The faint smell of milk reached his senses and made him feel tender towards this beautiful, helpless creature. Gently, very gently, he clasped her nipples, one by one, with his mouth and sucked. The milk gushed out in large spurts into his eager mouth. Her tensed body relaxed as the heaviness eased out her breasts. It was almost as if the curly head nestling at her breasts was that Kevin's and she felt a strong maternal pull towards this man. Except that, there was one major difference. The hand held the other breast was masterly, confusing her, corrupting the pure element of gratitude she felt for him. Slowly she became aware of something else. A warm feeling of pleasure started building between her legs, reacting to the movement of his hot tongue.

Her defenses suddenly resurfaced and she pulled away, painfully self-conscious of her breasts which seemed to have become terribly immense.

"Thank you for helping me out of such an embarrassing predicament. I don't know what I would've done." She said flaying her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"It's okay. Don't think about this anymore. I was the doctor, remember?" Mr. Evans replied with a smile.

He stood up, pushed his disheveled hairs back into place and returned to his chair, once again becoming the formidable, unapproachable boss.

*-*-*

For Mary things were never quite the same again. She experienced strange sensations each time she breastfed Kevin. Images of Mr. Evans transposed themselves over Kevin's cherubic face and she found it difficult to suppress the unfamiliar tug of desire that coursed through her at the memory of that strange intimate experience, but she resolutely kept away from his presence.

For Mr. Evans too the experience was not without its fallout. The visions of her milk-drenched blouse, round breasts and the thrust out pair of the most ravishingly swollen nipples kept playing repeatedly into his mind. He relived a million times the sweet taste of the warm liquid that had generously surged into his seeking mouth and there grew in him a longing to have the experience repeat itself. A part of him, the part that had held out successfully against the clamoring of lust and other such primitive yearnings before, condemned his growing weakness for the feel of a woman's body.

"But is it just a woman I want?" he asked himself repeatedly. In the silence of the night as he visually recreated the experience, he knew the answer. He wanted Mary. He had to take the experience to its logical conclusion in order to exorcise forever the ghost of a woman who had stealthily stolen his peace of mind and breached the fortress of his self-control. Something told him Mary would prove to be more challenge, an elusive quarry he might stalk but never come near to capturing. She wore her aloofness like an impenetrable armor and pre-empted any advance that might come her way.

*-*-*

Mr. Evans was determined man and he finally got the opportunity he was seeking. On the pretext of ensuring that certain select consignments receive the best possible attention on a priority basis, he directed that Mary make herself available that evening for final touches that might require her expertise.

In the evening after the rest of the staff had left, Mary stayed back in Mr. Evans's room.

"I'm sorry you had to stay back......" he began to say

"Mr. Evans, both of us know why you want me to stay back. So let's not beat around the bush anymore." Mary said cutting him off.

He was dumbfounded. "Could she have somehow divided his less than noble intentions?" He wondered. "What do you mean by that remark?" he asked.

"Mr. Evans, I have always respected you for what you are -- a straight-forward person. That day when you helped me to resolve that awkward problem, I knew that you did it with the goodness of your heart. It was a spontaneous act. I was extremely grateful for that, somehow neither the spontaneity of your action nor the gratitude in my heart could stem the tides of desire that was trigged by what we did." She didn't know what to say next, Mr. Evans got up from his chair and strode purposefully towards her.

"Mary I want you to know that I'm not a person who likes sleeping with different women and definitely not one of my staff, but ever since that morning, I find myself demented by longing; you have got into my blood like a mysterious disease and I need to exorcise you. I don't know whether you follow me or..."

"Yes I do, for I too need to exorcise you from my system. I need this experiment as much as you do, Mr. Evans." Mary replied.

Without much preamble, the two of them divested themselves of the impediments of clothing. There was, until the point, a touch of the clinical in their actions. The neat folding of the clothes, the cool sizing of one another's physical assets, the precise reaching out of unerring hands that moved to remove the pins from the knot of her hairs coiled on her head, every gesture was like the logical buildup o tryst, a premeditated promise that called for rational fulfillment.

Mary suddenly felt the urge to articulate her fear that had stayed dormant within her for so many years, fear that had frozen all her natural responses and brought about a state of rigor mortis in her sexuality. She was afraid that she would be exposed, shorn of her womanhood and bereft of her ultimate dignity.

Gently touching his cheeks she confessed, "I'm a woman who has been repeatedly raped by my beast of a husband. I know no other experience; I've a horror of sex and men. If at any point I should withdraw, I want you to know that it is not you that I'm rejecting, but my own experience of sex."

Looking her in the eyes, Mr. Evans said, "I shall not demean what we are about to do by tagging any labels on to the act. I merely want to consummate what we had begun."

He put his hands out and cupped her breasts solemnly. "Let me pay homage to the fount that gave me the nectar which took my sleep away."

So saying he drew her to the couch and lying beside her, he drank avidly from the ample munificence of her splendid breasts. There was nothing Kevin-like in his homage. She could feel something stirring inside her. As the milk flowed her passion rose. She began to arch herself.

"Not so fast lady, can you feel me." He took her hand and led it to the burgeoning strength of his manhood.

"I don't like that part; there is something ugly, vile and dirty about it." She said withdrawing her had away.

He let that pass, reluctant to push his luck. Slowly, skillfully he stroked her buttocks. He turned her around and clasped her breasts from the back, massaging them, now kneading and teasing the stiff peaks into tautness. He could feel her body unfolding in response even as she strove to deny it. He found a throbbing point in the nape of her neck and feverishly rained kisses on it. Her body had turned taut, gripped in the rage of a fever beyond her control.

"Stop it, stop it," she screamed. "I don't like this. Stop it."

"Ssshh! I know you don't like it, sweetheart. I know you don't like it." He whispered, his fingers working in tandem with her desire. His one hand moved downwards and met with her womanhood. The moment his fingers made contact with her nether lips, she let out a gasp. He rubbed and fingered her pussy skillfully bringing her a massive orgasm. Before she knew it, his cock slipped into her from behind, with ease. He moved gently, but there was power to his movement. He could feel her thrusting back involuntarily. There was poetry to the rhythm of their passion. He moved in and she thrust out. Then they were riding the crest of raw passion, lost to everything but the need to have a thundering climax. It was mind blowing. There was no other word.

After some time they lay spent in each other's arms. She turned to him and said, "I never for a moment imagined this is how it would be. It was truly wonderful."

"It was wonderful for me as well."

"Have you exorcised what you wanted to exorcise?" she questioned

"Yes, but I now have to exorcise something else. An urgent desire to repeat this performance."

"How would you do that?" she asked mischievously

"By doing it again lady and what about you?"

"I didn't like sex. I still don't actually. I'm eternally grateful to you for showing me that it can be wonderful, but I'm not sure if it was just a fluke. I'd like to check it out again."

Her wanton laugh enhanced for him, her sex appeal. He knew what he had just seen was the awakening of Mary and it would be long time, if it happened at all, that he would ever be exorcised of her.