Once Upon a Sleazy Time

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Prim and proper Indian wife succumbs to the BBC in a flight.
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Author's note: This story is a pure work of fiction, all characters and events in the tale are imaginary and fictitious. Although, human imagination is also influenced by various external stimuli. In case of author, someone has always served as poetical inspiration to imagine, fantasize, think and write. So, this story is again dedicated to — heart unfold like a flower, before whom.

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"Come on Raj, faster please", Anamika yelled, while scampering into the airport. Nothing could stop her race against time, but her sense of embarrassment, as she felt countless eyes sporting over her jiggling 36-C breast, carefully wrapped in her cotton blouse.

For most of the people around, it was an enticing and crispy sight to watch that a mature beautiful lady, dragging a huge suitcase is hustling to boarding counter. On reaching to long queue at the counter, her long black hair fall lose with a jerk and dropping over her arched butts, spiraled all over. It was a sight for the viewers around. Spectacular! Long jet black hairs, swirling and clouding all over her dusky midriff, propelling to her round shoulders, dropped to her knees.

The scene behind her was less exotic but funnier— a fat middle age man was following her, short of breath and dragging two more suitcase. "Run Raj, please faster", Anamika yelled again to the fat man, who was her husband. "We will miss the plane — please come fast".

38 year old Tamil wife Anamika Iyengar, was desperate to catch this flight to Jamaica, for their second honeymoon she was planning to catch for about a decade. She had been waiting for these holidays for long years. It was actually very difficult for her to organize everything. Arranging money from their limited income, leaving the teenage girl with the grandparents, getting long leaves from their respective offices. Most challenging was convincing her lethargic curmudgeon husband for a long holiday abroad. But she managed, and finally they decided to go to the Jamaica Islands. It took her even overcoming that great fear of air travel, which always made her so insecure when plane takes off.

Ironically, when this day came in their life, they were caught in the busy traffic of Chennai and reached airport about half hour late. Fate though has its own logic, sometime it even conspire against your dream — to give new dreams. Sometime it favors the passion. Both her craving and passion, paid in her way and the flight was already late by an hour.

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Anamika took a place in the long queue at the boarding counter and her querulous 50 year old husband Raj Iyengar, went to buy a newspaper. He was kind of a person, who would read a newspaper, religiously, as if they know, one day some headline will change the world into their fashion.

While waiting for their turn and her husband, she spent time looking at the people who were waiting in line with her. It was a habit, she always like to observe people around her. She looked at people, in their way of dressing, speaking, behaving and reacting to small details and situations. From this observation, she would do her situation analysis of how these people would be otherwise.

In the next row, Anamika first noticed a mature South Indian couple, in their fifties, a little physically abandoned, but with elegant and expensive clothes. Anamika assumed, they are pure rich tourists, going abroad to enjoy pleasant weather and some much-needed introspection into their marriage. She noticed the wife and husband were barely talking to each other. Probably their relation has reached to a point— where it's hard to reclaim the lost passion and love.

Behind them was a rather younger Bengali couple, they were quite thrilled and aroused with newly found love. Surely, the love birds were heading to their honeymoon. Anamika envied them a little, since she had missed her honeymoon, but she could conjure, how the young couple will explore and discover each other. They will start their married life with passionate zenith — and gradually give way to the routine of life as a couple, and the monotony that this relation entails.

Behind those love birds, there was a somewhat more heterogeneous group. Two Indian girls who looked young but not virgin and a tall & dark young African man. He was not just black, he was jet black and his skin shined in the light, more like a specimen of masculine charm. Anamika could not figure out if they were a group in itself. Perhaps the Black young man was trying to fill their waiting hours with his flirt. The African man appeared in his mid-20s, but he looked very Manly and imposing — as if very sure of himself. The two girls were very receptive of him, as if each trying to draw more of his attention.

When her eye meet his — Anamika struggled in breaking eye contact — his gaze was so magnetic — demanding and so suggestive, as if putting balls in his eyes, he was telling her 'Let's fuck'. Eye contact was a delicate matter. A quarter second of a shared glance was a subtle violation of marital agreements. Something very usual for her but she managed to look away and on the other side, where she saw Raj returning with a newspaper. His dark face was still in her eyes. Like a memory — like an unknown dream!!

The young man noticed Anamika adjusting her saree pallu over her round breasts — he smiled lowering his gaze to her oval navel, imagining a ring there. She was pure dusky and looked stunning in that multicolor saree, which held her hour glass frame to the perfection of natural display.

For him, a woman's waistline was the best curve ever, in a woman's body. The deeper, the deadlier. Anamika was busty with a slim waistline and shaped hips — around her oval shaped naval it was all curvy. Deadly curvy than the flow of a stream and mesmerizing than a hilly road. People can forget their destination, without driving on her curve or without drowning in this stream — only by watching it from a distance. So he did and silently moved to her queue.

Anamika, on the other hand, began comparing themselves as a couple, with those two couples. Of course, after 15 years of marriage, their relationship was no way near to that of the honeymoon couple. Anamika found more commonalities in that mature couple, who seemed recovering something in their relationship — something, perhaps lost already, forever.

Even Raj's attitude towards her resembled to that old couple. Loveless bizarre and without a hope of reviving the lost passion. Mostly, Anamika thought that this growing gap is a natural thing after such a long time. She asked herself what the attitude would be, if she could choose for her husband, and after doubting a moment — she discarded that of both couple.

Finally, after half hour of waiting, they were able to store their luggage, and get boarding passes. At the immigration counter, when they were about the leave, the cleric asked Raj about their cell numbers. Raj would not bother such things and told his and Anamika's cell number in loud voice, much to her chagrin.

They sat in boarding lounge, waiting for boarding. Raj buried himself in a newspaper and Anamika, the avid face reader stated reading the people around her.

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Anamika also had her theories about sexual fantasies, which she keep secret to herself and a few of her close female friends. Anamika maintained a view that if these fantasies are realized, the entire charm of not-having would be lost and soon that fantasy will become another monotony or even a regret. Therefore, she maintained, that many times fantasies are better left unfulfilled.

She was immersed in these reflections, an unexpected and unpleasant public address announcement interrupted her:

"Dear passengers, the airport announces the delay of the IB2427 flight to the Jamaica Islands, due to the weather. Kindly, stay tuned for new information."

"I knew, something terrible will happen for sure" said Raj peevishly in his carping attitude. "These long journeys are inherently hectic and boring.

"Let's pray Raj the storm get settled soon and our plane takes off..." Anamika retort, "... why cannot you think positively?" She knew Raj was going on holidays halfheartedly, because he had better things to do in his dark study — yet she expected, he would be little entertaining for the sake of her leisure. But he was as adamant to rejoice, as a dead man.

"So, what do we do, now?" Raj inquired, ignoring her question, which he must had heard a million time during their married life.

"Well, I'm afraid we don't have many alternatives, but to wait and wish the weather improves", Anamika replied, softening her voice this time. She did not still want to tell him, that one of the core reason of planning such a lavish excursion was his little cock — that has forgot erection, in the name of hectic exhaustive life.

"I already warned you Anamika, that it's not a good idea to travel these days..." Raj reminded her again about his fortune-telling skills. "... Storm is forecasted for the next week and our tour is set in jeopardy, but you have to waste money".

"Tell you what Raj..." Anamika got little irritated with his response, and retort peevishly. "Sometimes, even bad ideas are better than no ideas".

Raj received her comment with a smirk and divert his attention to the newspaper. Anamika still wanted to say something more, but a beep on her cell phone diverted her mind. It was a text message from an unknown number, when she opened it she was surprised with the content:

"It seems that you are not having a great time. How about a quickie in rest room?" Said the SMS.

Anamika flushed as she read it, and immediately looked up, trying to find the sender. After a scrutinizing glance at the spacious lounge of the airport, her eyes met the smiling face of the black man, whom she had seen in the queue. Adonis Bastard!

Before she could react — her husband asked her "Who is it?"

Anamika sighed that Raj's focus was all on newspaper and he did not notice the embarrassing look one her face, when she read that message. "Nothing, one of those advertising messages — you know...!" she fudged.

Immediately, in an almost impulsive way, she responded to the message: "Lay off, LOSER".

After sending this message she told her husband. "I'm going to shop around, if you're going to move, let me know".

After sending SMS, she got up, and without even looking at her husband, or that black man, went to the duty-free shop. Suddenly, Anamika felt very liberated, being alone for a while. There had been too many irritation in past hour. First the delay, then the recriminations of her husband, and finally the little message — she needed to put some order in her head. She needed a place or a moment, where no one catch her day dreaming. No one question her reasoning.

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Anamika went to the duty-free area, trying to find out some perfume to cheer-up Raj for the rest of the tour. Though, she couldn't get the message out of her head. She recalled, Raj had pronounced her cell number in loud voice, there in the waiting line, which everyone in Chennai might had heard her number.

She was though somewhat impressed by the sudden effrontery of that young man. His brazen boldness made her reflect upon the incident a little more. Of course the Black man had noticed her — there was no doubt about that, when she looked up after receiving the message, he was looking at her in friendly way.

When she recalled his dark chocolate face in her mind, she could not avoid noticing the age difference. She was 38 years old. Although, she still considered herself in good shape. Anyone looking at the round supple c-cup breast — her hourglass body, and that banging ass of hers would find it hard to resist, wanting to sample a piece of that. But she knew, her charm is fading, the firmness of her body will soon fade away into pulpy 40s. At the borderline age, the woman in Anamika knew — the debacle of her dusky charms is around the corner.

That's why, she felt curiously upset about the message. What did the he expect, that upon receiving the message, she throw herself into his arms?

Anamika did not fathom the evolution in the concept of seduction in the digital age. Blind phone calls, blind chats and internet profiles — texting & sexting. All was completely different from her idea of seduction, which stemmed from quite classic parameters. Starting with visual encounters and eyes break the ice. The exchange of smiles and glances, then eyes locked complicit glances, something more elaborate than a simple message of mobile. Although, she realized that these values — her classical values were now outdated in that quickie era. Yet, she was not willing to be tempted by new enticements, not even in her fantasies. Definitely not!

To remove all this from her head, Anamika decided to buy a perfume, or at least looking for an alternative one for some special occasions. After being advised by a saleswoman, and after trying several different ones, she finally decided on the new Versace. It turned out little expensive for her standards, yet affordable. She convinced herself, thinking about her salary, and considering, that despite the fortuitous delay and problems, they were going on vacation. The best way to start them is to be little generous and lavish to each other.

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After an hour of wandering and little shopping, Anamika returned to waiting area where she left Raj. She was thinking to make over for this early quarrels and also greet him with the perfume gift. But, another big shocking surprise was waiting her.

Raj was chatting cheerfully, with the SMS bastard, in a seemingly very relaxed and smiling tone, with several small bottles of liquor empty on the table.

Anamika was a little scared at this panorama. For a while, she even thought about turning around, and going back to the stores, but immediately she overcame her coyness and fear. Deciding to face the pervert head-on, in front of Raj. She was a mature woman and she wasn't going to let the charming boy take the initiative.

She reached to them silently, denying them to notice her arrival and when she was just behind them, she interrupted their conversation:

"Wow, I thought the party started without me. What you are celebrating?" she asked her husband, pointing to his glass with her eyes.

The two men were surprise, and her husband, replied jokingly, "Well, you know, if a woman goes shopping, it is better to prepare for a long wait".

"I see that you've even taken advantage of meeting people, apparently you get bored enough, right?" She inquired sarcastically, wearing a big smirk on her gorgeous brown face — for that cheap young man.

Raj smiled back at her and patting his little hand on the strong shoulder of young Black man, made a formal introduction: "Anamika, he is Malik, he is also going to Jamaica...", then looking at him he added, "Young man, meet my wife Anamika".

Even before she could summon her formal decency, Malik rise from his seat and held out his big palm at her for hand shake. It was not a big thing to shake hand but in her Tamil tradition, it was certainly not a norm that female shake hand with male. Anamika looked at his big palm and then to her husband. Raj was already lost in his newspaper. It was quite against the Indian culture that a woman shake hand with strangers. She would have declined his dark hand, but either nonchalance of her husband or sex appeal of those thick long fingers, enticed her enough in breaking the cultural norms.

Reluctantly she entrusted her soft palm to his firm hand. His grip was full, warm and authoritative. "Hello boy", she greeted him in a mock elderly manner.

"Hello Anamika..." replied Malik with a silly grin. "I think we know each other, right?" He asked, holding her hand, extending his grip, and damping the feeling of little triumph.

"No, I do not think..." retort Anamika, feebly trying to get her hand back. "I'm very receptive to faces, and if I had met you before, I would surely have remembered". She responded in confidence, but his boldness was ringing alarm bells in her head.

"Nice to meet you, lady", replied Malik with a smile. "Let's have a great journey together to exotic Jamaica, I've already found a great friend in your husband, to share the joy".

"Ha ha hah...!" Anamika heard her husband's laughter, "It is true, Malik is really a friend— it is incredible how easy it is to make friends, while waiting for a flight delay, ha ha hah", said Raj with his habitual laughter.

Anamika noticed that it was not only his typical garrulousness, but Raj had excessively drunk the imported free wine. "Sure..." retort Anamika with a smile. "It's also easy to befriend, with anyone— with a few glasses of expensive wine. Isn't it, Raj?"

"Hey Anamika! Do not think badly of us...!" interjected Malik, addressing her with first name. "Drinks are courtesy of the airline, to make our waiting a little agreeable.

"Do you want to drink something, honey?" Raj inquired, emptying his third large peg.

"No thanks, it is not necessary, I hope that the delay will not be long", replied Anamika, maintaining her casual behavior while her heart was now actually beating fast. She was cursing Raj for why he is noticing the firm grip of this black beast on her hand?

"Anything we can do to make the waiting more enjoyable, do not hesitate to ask us, no Raj?" Malik offered, looking her in the eye, with a clear suggestive look. His gaze was intense, burning and so radiant that she almost had to lower her eyes. Yet, she did not, pretending to be disinfected and not impressed. Anamika tried to hold his gaze, but intensity and the depth of his desire and nakedness of his lust — all was unable for her womanly bearing.

"Sure, sure", replied Raj, again shifting his focus to the newspaper.

"Don't worry", replied Anamika, "My dear husband know, how much I'm used to of long waiting".

"Awa...! That's unfair Raj", Malik retort, "You shall be attentive to her longings, when I will have a wife like yours she will pray a leave".

Raj got the underlying messages and folding his newspaper looked at her. "Come on Anamika, don't over play the routine. Malik was telling me the he often travel on this very route, and he thinks that maybe this wait can be a bit longer."

"Well, in that case you have to relax, not get nervous, and prepare for the wait". Anamika retort and finally with a jerk got her hand freed from his grip. She did it to show her husband that a stranger was holding her hand for so long, right in front of him

Anamika felt Malik's intense gaze on her again and she began to worry a little. She thought she was getting a bit heavy, but she also didn't want to mount any scandal in front of her husband. So, she tried to change the topic.

"So, how is it that you travel so much, boy?" she asked in elderly manner taking a seat next with her husband.

"It is because of my work, I'm a tourist consultant. I work for the big hotel chains, and now and then I have to visit them, to instruct them about new techniques and advances, orienting them about complete satisfaction of customers". Malik said this last sentence, in such a special tone, that Anamika felt alluded again.

"You know Anamika", said Raj in a cheerful pose, "Malik has already given me a couple of very interesting tips, about the affordable hotels, attraction and activities in Jamaica. He is a very well-informed young man, Ha ha hah".

Malik was grinning at this conversation. Base one was secured, as Raj seem certainly impressed with him, unlike his wife. However, for Wiley Malik, that reply of SMS and then handshake were still very promising signs.