Memoirs of a Baby-Boomer Academic Ch. 04

Some of you may have read my reminiscences of my early days as an academic in Melbourne, Australia where, in my story - 'Memoirs of a Baby-boomer academic Ch.1', I describe the intense relationship I had with a young Indian student called Diya. Our voracious sexual activities were sparked by her conviction that we had been lovers in an earlier life. While she knew that I thought her spiritual views more than likely represented mystical Asian self-indulgence, I was delighted to indulge clandestinely her enthusiastic spirit of sexual adventure. Unfortunately her family moved to Singapore at the end of the university year. After some increasingly desoltary correspondence over the next couple of years we ultimately lost touch.

She was far from my mind when more than 20 years later, shortly before the start of the school and university vacations in Victoria, my wife Lucy announced that she had agreed to take a school group to Kangaroo Island for a week. I was quite taken aback, as while I hadn't firmed up the arrangements, I had in mind that we'd make a visit for 10 days or so to the Northern Territory. Personally, I could think of few less appealing activities than taking a group of school children on a holiday nature expedition, but Lucy enjoyed it, and to be fair, was good at it, too. We had already planned to send our two teenagers to stay with Lucy's parents in the country for the vacation, a change from city life that they always welcomed.

Faced with a fait accompli, I decided to make the best use of a bad job. As the university had offered me a travel grant as part of my research obligation, I thought I'd see if I could usefully spend a week in an attractive location combining some legitimate study with relaxation in an interesting destination. Looking through the forthcoming literary-oriented conferences I noted one in my field in Singapore, entitled 'Linguistic Innovation in Shakespeare's Later Plays'. That would certainly meet the criteria specified in my case by the university and could even be of interest, I thought. In addition I was intrigued to see that one of the presenters was listed as Diya Kaur. Could that be my Diya, I wondered. The surname was different, but presumably she would have married some time during the last 20 years.

When nothing more appealing appeared as I continued searching, I decided to enrol even though it would cost me a late enrollment fee. My decision was influenced in part by the university's grants policy of use it or lose it. Like most people I wasn't keen on forfeiting a free airfare, even if I had to pay for my own accommodation at the conference, which was being held at a mid-range Singapore hotel.

To cut a long story short the presenter named Diya was, indeed, my former student and we found much to enjoy together which I'm happy to relate to you as the reader. When Diya learned that I had written a number of erotic stories she insisted that she be allowed to contribute as well to my account of our time together. I had no objection in principle, but as I usually wrote in the first person I was concerned as to how I could express her point of view. Diya offered an elegant solution - that as people who had made a living out of the study and use of language we could write in the third person, taking an eye of God approach to the events we were describing. Hence the following account -

Diya was unaware that her first and almost sole lover, Alex, from Melbourne, had enrolled as a conference participant, until her friend Pamela, the conference organiser, mentioned it.

"I see your old friend, Alex, from your year in Melbourne is coming. Unless you have some objection, I'll sit you together at the conference dinner, as he probably won't know too many of the other attendees, although I expect you'll have the opportunity to catch up with him before then at the pre-conference cocktail party, " she said.

Pamela was one of the very few friends in whom Diya had confided about her affair as a student with Alex. While Pamela had lived all her life in Singapore her parents were English, and they had inculcated in her a number of Anglo-Saxon values, one of which was the importance of respecting any information she heard in confidence. Diya knew better than to confide in any of her Punjabi friends as she was well aware that it would be foolish to rely on their discretion. Like the majority of the Indian community they delighted in exchanging salacious gossip, so silence was the best approach.

Ironically the only other friend who was aware of her earlier involvement with Alex was also attending the conference, as well. Indeed, Jackie was not only attending, but, in fact, staying at Diya's house as her guest for three days, after which the two of them had arranged to drive off across the causeway on a trip to spend a few days in Malaysia.

Diya was fully aware that her university colleagues regarded her friendship with Jackie as an attraction of opposites. While Diya was short with a substantial bust, and had lived the staid life of a mother of two children, now teenagers, for the best part of 20 years, Jackie was tall, slim and dramatic. Her west indian father had gifted her chocolate skin and springy black hair which she wore in afro style, while from her English mother she had inherited a general disregard for convention. On her secondment visit two years' earlier, she had been rostered to lecture with Diya. After some initial awkwardness they found that they shared the same sense of humour, and Diya delighted in Jackie's sense of the ridiculous.

They became firm friends, although Diya was initially disconcerted by Jackie's flamboyant bisexuality. Her exotic appearance meant that she was seldom short of admirers of both sexes. Diya couldn't help remarking that the more fascinated they became with her, the worse she treated them.

"Look," Jackie explained to Diya, "I tried the marriage thing, but once I started to earn more than him, he demanded money. I told him -"fuck you, I earned it, if you want more, get a better job yourself." He threatened to hit me, so I gave him the arse. Not before time, too. I then shared an apartment with a fellow lecturer, who introduced me to the pleasures of lesbian sex. I realised that there is a continuum, with unshakeable heterosexuals at one end and same sex enthusiasts at the other. But there's quite a number in the middle like me whose sexual orientation starts off focussed on one sex, usually through societal pressure but who may well swing one way or the other depending on opportunity and the sexual appeal of the person that you are involved with.

"For me, I'm happy to swing both ways, but I'm out for pleasure, not to convert anyone." Diya wasn't clear whether Jackie's comments contained a subtle invitation, but in any event her lack of a positive response did not affect their close friendship.

Diya collected Jackie from the airport after her overnight flight from London. After a relaxing lunch Jackie retired for a brief snooze, while Diya prepared for the pre-conference cocktail party. From the time she had learned that Alex was attending she found herself deeply unsettled. Initially, after moving to Singapore from Melbourne she had found their separation very difficult, and had masturbated most nights fantasising of rejoining Alex in Melbourne. Her inability to confide in anyone made her distress feel worse, but eventually the pressure of study and the demands of everyday life in the Punjabi community in Singapore deadened her sense of loss.

When, shortly after graduating, her parents proposed that she marry an attractive young military officer, the son of a business associate of her father's, she thought, why not? The idea of children and a stable family life had its attractions. After insisting that she be free to continue her honours study at university, and that her parents be released from any obligation to pay a dowry, she indicated her consent.

A brief concern was her lack of a hymen to establish her wedding night virginity. To solve the problem she talked somewhat obliquely to a couple of friends whom she suspected had faced a similar dilemma. They gave her contact details of an elderly lady whom they recommended. Upon receiving a not insubstantial fee, the lady instructed Diya how best to deal with the issue on the wedding night, and supplied a capsule filled with blood. Whether or not her new husband, let alone family members, really believed the genuine nature of the stained sheets, was never mentioned, and her life as a newly married wife commenced without incident.

Not surprising sex was initially a disappointment, but with some subtle training Diya converted Ritvik to a competent performer, with an adequate, if limited, repetoire. As time went on and European values infiltrated the conservative Singapore society she persuaded Ritvik to read some newer magazines which encouraged more adventurous sexual activities, but it was a delicate task to create the situation where Ritvik felt that he was the one proposing the new challenge. It was still not appropriate for women to take the lead on such matters.

Diya's one transgression since her marriage had occurred a couple of years' earlier at a weekend leadership conference. A young Englishman had pursued her with a mixture of humour and flattery. Perhaps she was feeling vulnerable as Ritvik had just left for a three month secondment to a U.N. military base in the Middle East. The young man's attention made her feel attractive and desirable, and on impulse she agreed to follow him to his room for a late night drink.

Her body responded to his enthusiastic kisses, and she decided to go with the flow, perhaps influenced by Jackie's attitude to enjoy whatever is on offer. That night's vigorous sex was the best that she had enjoyed since her relationship with Alex, but the second night took a somewhat different turn. Knowing that she enjoyed a spot of rough play the young man bit her nipples so hard that the pain brought tears to her eyes, then demanded she kneel facing away from him whereupon he smacked her with such ferocity that she burst out crying. Ignoring her pleas to be more gentle he mounted her aggressively, thrusting himself into her quivering vulva without any concern for her readiness, grunting, "enjoy my hard white cock, you brown slag. Don't complain - you've got what you wanted."

He whacked her again on the rump as he shot his load, expostulating "Take that, you frumpy bitch.'" Diya could feel his cock pulsing deep in her cunt, but instead of pleasure she felt used and mortified. Realising he had gone too far, he tried to embrace her sympathetically as she lay on the bed for a moment recovering. She pushed him away and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Through the door she could hear him speaking on the phone to a friend, saying, "Yes, I had a bit of luck chasing tail here - to my surprise I was able to hook up with a middle-aged Indian academic who turned out to be a great fuck, although she got a bit antsy when I whacked her a rather too hard. But it was nice to have something a bit exotic to screw, instead of those plain vanilla girls back home."

Virtually ignoring her as she left the room he gave her a half-hearted wave goodbye and immediately returned to his telephone conversation.

Walking back to her room Diya wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or rip the young man limb from limb. How humiliating to be regarded as a cheap slut, available to be fucked and knocked around for the enjoyment of a self-satisfied, racist creep. Talk about a sense of entitlement - she had better qualifications and a much more impressive track record than him, but just because he was white and a male he felt justified in treating her like dirt. While she had enjoyed talking dirty with Alex, she realised that it was only stimulating in a relationship where both had genuine feelings for each other, as otherwise it made her feel cheap and exploited. Fortunately she wouldn't have to have any further contact with him.

Travelling back home, however, she acknowledged to herself that it had been a learning experience. Not all men were considerate like Ritvik or Alex, and interested in ensuring the sex was pleasurable for the woman too - some men could be uncaring or down-right nasty, even enjoying a touch of sadism. And her fling could easily have destroyed her reputation, and possibly even her marriage. All in all, perhaps she had got off quite lightly. She obviously didn't have the skills that Jackie displayed in managing her casual sexual partners.She resolved that from then on she would resist any further temptation.

Her thoughts returned to the forthcoming conference. Without a conscious decision she realised that the knowledge that she would see Alex again had changed her expectations. Ritvik and the children attributed her beautification campaign of threading to remove stray facial hairs, waxing to provide smooth legs and her purchase of a new cocktail dress as an expression of her wish to look her best when she was delivering her paper, but Diya had to admit to herself that her justification for extending the waxing appointment to remove all her pubic hair was driven by her memory of her intense pleasure Alex had given her by licking and sucking her sex so many years' ago.

Realising it was now time to get ready for the pre-conference cocktail function, she woke Jackie from her afternoon nap. Unusually for her, Diya felt all nerves as she dressed and applied her make-up. "What's wrong?" asked Jackie as they walked to the local MRT station, "You're like a cat on a hot tin roof!"

"Nothing," Diya replied, unconvincingly. She couldn't get out her mind the experience of the last tryst that she had enjoyed in Alex's office. She was lying beside him on the mattress, relaxing after his second orgasm. Her breasts were resting on his chest, while her right hand was gently cupping his balls.

"How is this going to end? Will we see each other again?" she asked. Alex didn't reply so she squeezed a testicle lightly to demand an answer.

"Oh, I thought it was a rhetorical question," he said. "You know that in literature most grand passions end badly - either in death like Romeo and Juliet or tears. To be honest it's difficult to see any future for us. I don't want to get married, and I'm sure your parents will soon be casting around for a suitable husband for you. Let's just enjoy what we've got"

With that Alec had rolled her on to her back and proceeded to bite and pull her nipples which immediately aroused a response between her legs. Kissing his way down her stomach at the same time as his finger toyed with her engorging clitoris. Reaching her groin he rubbed her smooth waxed pubic area with his chin, before licking up and down her slit. She writhed in pleasure.

"You're a bastard, you just want to avoid talking about it - but don't stop'" she demanded as her hips rose up to press against his mouth. "God, I love it when you eat me like this."

She realised Jackie was shaking her arm. "Ground control to Major Tom,' Jackie was saying, rousing Diya from her reverie. Her mind returned to the present,

"Sorry, I was thinking of the last time I had a talk with Alex," she replied, relieved to share her anxiety with Jackie. I don't know what to expect after 20 years. I'm as twitchy as a teenager on her first date."

"Come on, you're an intelligent mature woman. Take a deep breath and settle down. It'll be fine."

Somewhat reassured, Diya found herself a little less agitated. Pamela was at the registration desk. "Alex has arrived, he's over there with those people in the far corner." She gestured to a group some distance away.

"Take my arm," said Diya to Jackie, "I can do with the moral support".

As the two ladies approached, Alex looked up, catching Diya's eye. His face lit up in a smile. He stepped forward and, seizing her by the upper arms, pulled her towards him to give her a kiss on the cheek. Diya's skin shivered just like their initial physical contact all those years' ago in Alex's office, and her whole body shuddered. She could feel her heart thumping.

He held her at arms' length as she smiled at him. "You've still got that killer smile that I've never forgotten," he said. That old sense of knowing him in a former life was taking over her senses, making her feel almost giddy. Jackie, realising that Diya was feeling overwhelmed, introduced herself to Alex and explained that they had come together as she was staying at Diya's house.

Studying Alex appraisingly, Jackie concluded that he was reasonably good-looking, but nothing outstanding. At the age of around 50 he still had a good head of hair, graying around the temples. From her point of view, with his reasonably slim body she would rate him as potentially a target of interest, but not at the premium level.

As Diya was struggling to regain her equilibrium Jackie continued to talk to Alex, mentioning the two ladies' plan to take a few days to visit southern Malaysia, but she wasn't sure that Alex was taking much in, as her two companions seemed unable to take their eyes off each other. Their sexual energy was palpable. Her considerable experience in heated sexual relationships was telling her that she had to take charge.

Moving between them she took both their arms. "Look," she said, "people will soon see that you can't wait to get your hands on each other. Why don't you find somewhere private to talk, and I'll tell Pamela that Diya has a headache and needs to lie down for a while." Turning to Diya she added,"I'll meet you at the reception bar at 10, so we can share a taxi home. Enjoy!"

"Great," said Alex, catching on immediately. "Tell Pamela that if it's really important she can contact Diya in room 626." Turning to Diya he added, "Give me a couple of minutes, then come to my room."

With her mind in a whirl, Diya was sufficiently disciplined to avoid watching Alex head off. Her body was quivering with excitement. She turned to Jackie. "Thanks, I don't know how I could have coped without you. I can barely think straight."

"Off you go, don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jackie joked, feeling rather envious of the obvious sexual chemistry that the two were sharing.

Gathering her thoughts, Diya found her heart singing. Knowing Alex would be welcoming her was a huge relief. Her memory kicked in. Detouring to the ladies loo, she locked herself in a cubicle and removed her stockings and panties, just like the old days. The cold air-conditioned air on her bare sex beneath her skirt made her feel wicked and intensely alive, as she took the lift to the sixth floor.

At her knock Alex opened the door immediately. He was naked, except for a towel around his waist. She threw herself into his arms, kissing him desperately. His hard cock pressed against her sex as he tried to slide his hand up under her cocktail dress. With a discipline she scarcely knew she possessed she pushed him away, and, holding him at arms' length turned her back to him, demanding, "Unzip me, I can't go home looking as though I've been rolling in the hay!"

As Alex pulled the zip down the dress slid from her shoulders to the floor, allowing her to step out of it. Bending down to pick it up to hang in the wardrobe, she found it hard to concentrate as Alex pressed his groin against her backside, sliding a hand between her buttocks to finger her leaking cunt. As she reached up to the rack he unclipped her bra, which fell away from her chest, allowing him to lift her breasts, cupping them to enjoy their weight and round shape. They appeared significantly heavier and fuller than he recalled, probably from breastfeeding, he thought, as he scratched his fingers over their smooth upper surface. She shivered from his touch. Remembering her pleasure from their lovemaking so many years ago he pulled and twisted her nipples which reacted in the fashion that he recalled, stiffening and pushing outward like small cherries.