Strange but True

This is a fictionalised account of events that actually took place. There are Indian men who think of their women as husband-worshipping zombies. Indian women are undoubtedly devoted wives but they are also a vibrant lot with wild and varied emotions sloshing within them. It is up to the men to make the best of a good bargain.

"I suspect I am a troilist," said my husband Thiagu.

"What do you collect," I asked. Philatelists collect stamps, Numismatics collect coins. I assumed that my husband collected something. If it had been soda bottle caps I would not be surprised. He tended to the bizarre.

"You have to find out. Troilism is the word." Some days later when I was in a mood to find out I could not recollect the word. I left it at that

We are married for six years. He has been a good husband. I did not find it difficult to deal with his occasional eccentricities. For example two years ago he suddenly decided to become a vegan. Vegans shun all animal products in their diets included milk. He did not ask me to join him. It was not easy to feed him during this phase. I did my best but his health suffered. He had to give it up. Any vegan who gives up is likely to become a vegetarian, but not my husband. He went in for all out meat eating. Fortunately Chennai does not offer deep fried locusts or else he would have taken to insect eating too. That is his style.

A month later he asked me if I had looked up troilism is Wikipedia. I told him I forgot the word. He wrote it down on a piece of paper and gave it to me. Later I checked. This is what Wikipedia had say about troilism:

'Refers to the erotic interest in watching one's romantic partner engage in sexual behaviour with a third party. A common example is a husband watching his wife have intercourse with another man.'

My reaction was one of amusement. I chuckled. After dinner Thiagu was reading the newspaper when I sidled to a seat next to him on the sofa. He moved to make room for me. I moved closer. He turned and smiled. I smiled. He must have read something in my body language.

"What's up Gopika," he said.

"Have you chosen the man?"

"What man?" He was pretending. He knew what I was talking about.

"The man you have chosen for me. Wikipedia, and other sites, are silent on that aspect of troilist culture. Does the man choose or the woman?" He smiled sheepishly. "You have to answer this particular question," I persisted.

"The woman has the final say," he said. He was smiling broadly. "Someone not know before and not to be seen after."

"Hit and run?"

"You have phrased it neatly," he said.

"We may meet again by chance."

"One in a million if it happens in a strange city."

"Can you name the city you have in mind?"

"Bangkok." So that was why he has been planning a visit to that sex city.

"So I hold a placard in a Bangkok street corner and stand waiting for the man."

"Bangkok hotels provide masseurs for just this purpose."

"You mean Bangkok hosts troilist conventions?"

"No conventions. Regular visitors. I believe troilism is very common."

"So this Thai man will be having sex with me and you will be sitting there watching. Is that the idea?" Put that was it was somewhat harsh.

"Sorry Gopika," he said. His voice was tremulous. "I unsay everything I said. It was not my intention to hurt you in anyway."

We hugged and we kissed. His hands went to my blouse and bra. Soon he was kneading my breasts, and then he was sucking. Suddenly I was hot too. My nipples started tingling. My nipples become extraordinarily sensitive when I am hot. He plucked at them with his lips used just that pressure to make me moan. And then it was the turn of my clitoris to tingle. I pulled up my sari and pushed his head down. My feet were up in the air. He cleaned up my vulval secretions like a cat and then he held the clitoris with his lips played on it with his tongue till I was vibrating; and then he swiped. I tumbled down the waterfall. I lay on the carpet and he was on top and we had orgasms at the same time. I screamed. I always scream, softly though, when I climax.

It was at that moment that I became a troilist sympathiser.

2

The flight from Delhi to Bangkok was a night time flight set to land at daybreak in Bangkok. They served dinner as soon as possible and then put off the lights for passengers to try and compose themselves for sleep. The plane had two rows of three to a line seats with the aisle in between. We were at the very tail end of the aircraft. Our third seat was vacant. A young couple occupied the seats across the aisle, possibly honeymooners, but not straight from the wedding dinner for the girl's palms were free of mehendi. Their third seat was vacant too.

Thiagu sat with his back resting on the side of the aircraft. He pulled me up so that I she can rest my back on his chest. I drew my legs up on the seat and we were as comfortable as possible on aircraft seats. I covered myself and Thiagu with the thin blanket airlines provide. The three hour flight from Chennai to Delhi earlier that day, and the time we spent roaming round the capital made me tired. I was ready for a snooze, but my husband had other ideas.

His hands came around and cupped my breasts under the blanket. I turned my head to smile but he misunderstood and bent forwards to kiss me on the lips. I darted a glance at the couple. They were watching; there was light enough for me to see that they were sniggering. Such was my mood that I did not mind it one bit. Meanwhile Thiagu was busy unhooking my blouse.

"What's the matter with you," I said.

"The blanket is covering you," he said. He then undid my bra clasps and his hands were soon on my bare breasts. It was delicious. The time and the place and the eager spectators made it special.

"Snooze," he said.

"As if I can," I replied. I drew the blanket further up and twisted it round my neck for added security. The couple opposite were darting glances at us. They did not seem to show any desire to imitate us. Soon I could feel the blanket slipping off my shoulders. Strangely it did not seem to matter anymore. It came off but rested over my breasts still preserving my modesty, and then it fell off to my lap. I sat there with breasts exposed with my husband's hands kneading them. In the dim light I could see the couple opposite watching intently. It was thrilling.

My labia were wet with secretions pouring out of my vaginal glands. My clitoris had started tingling. I did my best to restrain myself but I was finding it difficult to prevent myself from pulling up my sari. It was up to my knees. I reached for his hand and brought it forward and placed it on my vulva. I could feel his penis digging into my back. His soft hands gently teased my clitoris. Soon my feet were up. I did not care who saw me. In fact I liked the couple to see me with my vulva spread out and with my husband's hands on it gently rubbing and playing. The couple were no longer darting glances. They sat there fully focused like grandmasters at the chess board..

"Thiagu darling lick me," I said. He got up. I moved resting my back on the side wall. Thiagu crouched in the space in front of the seat. I positioned myself and he set about his task earnestly. I was bold and lusty. I looked at the couple and smiled not knowing if in the dim light they could see me. They could, for they smiled back. The girl's smile of embarrassment was not quite in concordance with the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. Soon I saw nothing though my eyes were open. I was vibrating and when he swiped I cascaded down. It was with great effort that I suppressed my moans.

"I want it all," I whispered. I wondered if he had space for it. The saying 'if you have the will you will find the way' found its best application. He found a way. He managed to insert up to the hilt. He ejaculated and I did have an orgasm. He pulled up his trousers and I pulled down my sari and we reclined in a tight embrace.

It was at that moment that I became a dedicated troilist.

The lights coming on woke us up. I went to the rest room. There were three of us waiting. The girl of the opposite seat was the one in front of me. Our eyes met. She was not sure if she should smile. I had no such problem. I smiled and she smiled back.

"Liked it?" I asked. I was bold and I was without shame.

"Very much," she said.

"I thought you would follow suit."

"My husband wanted but I was not daring enough."

"This was guilt edged chance," I said, "You may not get another."

"The exact words my husband used."

"Wish you would on the return flight," I said.

"Thanks," she said.

I was her turn to go. "Your needs are greater," she said with a wink and chuckled.

"Thanks for the offer," I said, "but you please go."

She was out very quickly. She gave me a broad smile and a hug.

"Thank you. It is unforgettable," she said.

"Thanks," I said.

Bangkok splashed a welcome on the screen.

'Bangkok, her I come,' I said but to myself. I was in a mood for adventure.

3

Thiagu went for his bath. I unpacked and arranged some dresses in the wardrobe. The fever of the flight was still raging. I do not how my husband found out he was a troilist, but this flight adventure proved to me beyond doubt that I was an exhibitionist. I undressed deliberately to nudity. I stood at the mirror doing up my hair. From where I stood those in the room opposite could see me.

There was a tap at the door.

"Come in," I said overcoming the reflex to cover myself. The door opened and a hotel employee in uniform stood at the door. He was a little below medium height, but handsome.

"Come in," I said again with a smile to reassure him that I was fully aware that I had no clothes on. He was seeing me side on. I turned round to face him.

"I have come to change the water," he said in his heavily accented English. .

"Go ahead," I said. He removed the big bottle that was half empty, took it out and brought in a full bottle and inverted it in on the contrivance. The hotels in sex city train their employees well. He went about his job as if being in a room with a naked young woman was an everyday occurrence for him. It probably was. The surprise is that I was also very casual about it. Anyway that was my perception.

"What is breakfast time?" I asked. I was in a mood to keep him for a while. I continued to comb my hair but I sat on a sofa and placed my legs on the table in front and spread out my thighs a little.

"Seven to ten madam."

"What is on today's menu.

"Continental madam, every day."

"Any item you recommend."

"The bread and rolls in this hotel are very special."

"Any Thai dishes."

"There are but if this is your first visit I would not advise you to try them," He said with a smile.

"Thank you," I said.

"Thank you," he said.

"What are you thanking me for?" I asked. His smile as he gently withdrew like an actor in a drama said it all.

I was wet with sexual excitement. The bathroom door opened and Thiagu came out. He saw me and whistled.

"Nice to see you in the grip of sin city fever," he said. "Don't turn now, but there is a man at the window opposite is enjoying the sight of you."

"I had another viewer too," I said and told him. He was excited. He went round and stood where the man had.

"You mean you were seated like this in front of him?"

"More like this," I said and spread out my thighs just a nonce. Thiagu become emotional. He caught me in his arms and lifted me up. He imprinted numerous kisses on all parts of my face. He took me to the bed.

"Did he see your vulva spread out like this?" I nodded. "I want more men to see you naked. Many men must fill you. What did he say? Nothing?

Was his penis erect. It was. Did he ejaculate? No. He must have rushed straight to the bathroom to jerk off." He then started kissing my vulva and then licking. I was red hot. I needed very little to climax. And then he was upon me. I screamed as we climaxed in unison. We lay in each other's arms.

"I'll go for a bath," I said.

We did the usual tourist things. The culture of Thailand was so different and at the same time so similar to India. What I liked most was the special smile that Thai people have for visitors. What I liked least was the insect food that was on display everywhere. As I went around my heart was thudding with a strange mixture of fear and anticipation of what the night had in store for us.

4

My husband as usual had done his homework well. He called reception and arranged a masseur. I made the final choice. I chose one with a pleasant face. After light supper we waited. We sat in a close embrace as zero hour closed in. My heart was in a flutter. I am not sure if my husband's was not. At eight sharp there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," said Thiagu and our visitor walked in, closed the door and turned the latch. He was of medium height and medium build but with muscles sufficiently well developed for one to see them through his thin shirt. He did have a pleasant face with a smile hovering about. He was handsome.

"Please sit down," said Thiagu. We sat on the double sofa. He took a seat on the single sofa opposite.

"I am Rajan and my wife is Gopi."

"My Thai name is too complicated. Here I am known as Bertie."

"Could we know more about you?"

"Of course," he said. His spoke in English with only a slight accent. "I was in college when a hotel scout spotted me. The offer was too good for me to let it go."

"Best job in the world?" said Thiagu. He laughed.

"It may appear to be, but it is a high tension job."

"High tension?"

"Yes," he said but did not expand. I could understand. Making love to wives in front of the husbands is high tension job of the mightiest kind.

"Have you had any problems?" I asked.

"Surprisingly madam, none at all."

"What is it that you are most often called upon to do?" I asked.

"Massaging the wife for a start and then making love to her at various levels."

"What are the levels?" I did not know there were levels in love making.

"Some just want me to see their naked wives, some want me to touch them in non sensitive areas, some want me to hug and kiss and so on all the way."

"Does it surprise you that so many men seem to want it?"

"In the beginning it did, but now I feel that deep down most men want it." Both my husband and I laughed.

"You?" I asked.

"I am not married. I am engaged to a girl, a relative, back in my village. My feeling is that when she becomes my wife I would not mind her having friends."

"Does she know your job?" I asked.

"When I told her she bent double with laughter." He was pleased as punch at his girl's reaction to his job.

"How do we start?" asked Thiagu.

"She showers and wears a towel round her arm pits. I shower and wrap a towel round the waist. Then she lies on the plastic covered bed and I massage. We proceed."

He was hesitating as if he had a question.

"Anything you want to say," said Thiagu.

How far can I go?" He asked.

'The lady decides," said my husband.

He went in and showered and came out with a towel round his waist. He looked very strong with finely formed pectorals and deltoids. I showered and came out wrapped in a towel. By then he has spread a plastic sheet on the bed and had his bottles out. I also saw a condom packet laid out.

"Please lie with the face down," he said. As I lay down I removed the towel from under me. My bare body was on the sheet but the towel covered my back. He started at the back of the neck. It was pleasant the way he pressed and plucked the muscles. He used very little oil. The shoulder muscles were next and then the back muscle between the shoulder blades. Gently he pushed down the towel and started on the muscles close to the spine. When he did the muscles on the sides of the chest his hand touched my breasts and it sent a thrill down my spine.

"May I?" he said as he gave a gentle tug to the towel.

"Yes," I said and he removed the towel. I was lying face down and naked on the bed and a strange man wearing nothing but a towel round his waist was massaging me. It was a funny feeling in which excitement of anticipation drowned shame and embarrassment. So far I turned my face away from my husband. Now I lay with head turned in his direction. He was also bare above his waist. He was wearing a blue lungi. We made eye contact. He smiled and winked. He was clearly enjoying the sight of his naked wife on the massage table.

Bertie now turned his attention to my buttocks. He had to use both hands to handle the gluteal muscles. He kneaded them as if he was preparing dough for chapatti. It was very sensuous. He did one and then the other and after that the small of the back. He then went for my feet. He folded them and he twisted them and he pulled each toe. Every move was pleasurable. He did the calves and then the back of the thighs, the outer sides of the thighs and then the inner side of the thighs. As he came to the crotch I was getting quite excited but he never touched my vulva rather to my disappointment but I am sure he saw them. That very thought excited me.

"You have to turn round madam," said Bertie softly, almost pleadingly. I did so without hesitation. I lay back with eyes on the ceiling. I was naked with my breasts and vulva exposed and a stranger was not only gazing at them but was soon to touch them. Shame was not among the feelings I was experiencing. I was excited, sexually excited. I was wet and cared not if Bertie saw my excitement. Rather I wanted him to.

Once again he started with the feet and soon he was massaging the front of the thighs. We went up and up and soon he was at the groin. Then he did the sides of the abdomen and then the lower part of the chest. He now took some oil and spread it on his hand.

"May I?" he said with hands poised over the breasts.

"Yes," I said. He then delicately kneaded both breasts one hand on each. There was symmetry of the movements and it was delightful. I could not avoid moaning. He plucked the nipples; he smiled and I smiled back. My eyes were looking up. I do no know what Thiagu's reactions were.

"May I?" I said with my hands gently tugging the towel round his waist.

"Yes," he said with a broad smile on his face. I gave another tug and it came off. I dropped it. His large and erect penis was waving in front of my eyes. I touched it and took my fingers up and down the shaft. I touched his scrotum and testicles and played with his lush pubic hair.

"Play with my vulva," I said. I lifted my feet up and spread out my thighs. He climbed up and crouching between my raised feet he touched my labia with both his hands.

"You are wet madam," he said.

"Surprised?"

"No madam, but I have not seen so much." he said. He opened out the labia and softly ran his fingers up and down the edges of the inner lips. He produced a delicious sensation. Then with is right index he stimulated the clitoris. I moaned from pleasure. Then he licked. With his long tongue he cleaned up the secretions that had spread from the vagina to the labia and even the thighs. He opened out the labia and licked them clean. When he did the edges I moaned for it was indescribable. He then protruded his tongue into the vagina and flicked his long tongue in and out several times to lick it clean. Finally his tongue was working on my clitoris. My pelvis was vibrating and when it was at its peak he swiped. I had a mammoth orgasm. I turned to my husband. His eyes were protruding and his mouth was open. At this critical moment with the greatest possible effort of my will I stuck to the decision I had made earlier.

"Darling, come on top of me," I said. I held Bertie by the hand as he climbed down. "Sorry Bertie, I hope you understand," I said, and he by a smile indicated that he did understand. As my husband came on top I inserted his throbbing penis into my vagina at the same time I held Bertie close to me. I was biting Bertie's groin and his penis pressed on my cheek as I climaxed. It was a stunning. Thiagu gave me two more. I made room for Bertie and all three of us lay in a huddle. Thiagu was biting my ear lobe and Bertie was sucking and playing with my tongue and lips.