The Greatest Bonding of All

Saaru chuckled delicately.

"What's so amusing?" asked Dad.

"The newspaper has given our bit in the matrimonial columns some prominence."

"You did not ask for highlighting, did you?"

"No, but to be the first item in a list extending to six pages is something isn't?" She handed him the supplement that in the Sunday issue was a thick wad of sheets.

He read in silence. It was not pleasant reading.

'Chennai based 23-year-old software engineer with infantile uterus seeks a groom. Widowers or divorcees with children no bar. Reply to P.O. etc.'

He then flipped through the pages. He wanted to divert his mind away from the sadness brought on by the wording of the notice.

"Funny country ours Saaru. Parents of Tamil boys and girls want Tamil speaking spouses for their children, and the same for Telugus and Malayalees, and every one of the dozen linguistic groups. Religion is next: Hindus, Christians, and Muslims do not want any mixing of religion. Finally comes caste. Brahmins want only Brahmins of the particular sub caste, and vegetarian Mudaliars do not want alliances with meat eating Mudaliars, and so on for the hundred castes and sub castes. Christians divide themselves into Roman Catholic and Protestant; they have caste too. All this narrows down the choice considerably."

"No, Dad, in a country with a billion inhabitants the choice is wide. Please note that 0.1 percent of a billion is one million." Dad ran his eyes up and down the columns.

"Saaru instead of reading the long boring articles in the magazine section it would be vastly more interesting to read the matrimonial columns. One prospective groom calls himself a rationalist. Atheists I suppose he is, and presumably he wants no deal with believers. In India atheism is also a religion. One father wants a non-alcoholic son-in-law. Which father does not? Hey! Listen to this: A father wants a groom for his innocent unconsummated divorcee daughter. Strange wording, though one gets the point." He wondered if unconsummated only meant penetration to the exclusion of kissing and fondling, and may be even licking. How pure is a virgin who has been licked? He did not seek his daughter's opinion.

"The ads are neatly classified Saaru on the basis of caste, and language spoken, and religion. You are under the heading cosmopolitan. That gets you on top alphabetically; what does that mean?"

"It means that caste and creed and language are no bar."

"You specified that because it widens the choice?"

"Yes Dad, partly. You know that like you I care little for these subdivisions. You approve?"

"Of course I do."

"Why then are you not looking pleased?"

"I do not like to see my darling described in print as a barren woman fit only for widowers and divorcees."

"Facts have to be faced Dad. I am perfectly willing to remain single, but you want to see me settled before you leave. Fair enough. I have taken the only choice left."

"In the cursory glance I did not see mention of any infantile uteruses or other disabilities. Do all brides with infantile uteruses advertise that fact?"

"Most girl won't know Dad unless they go to doctors for scanty periods as I did. Even if they do the parents more often than not will suppress that fact."

"Do you think we should have done that too?"

"Certainly not. You would not approve of that, and your daughter most certainly will not. You always used to say that honesty is the best policy. I also feel that way."

Dad could not shake off his despondency. He wanted a moment of quiet.

"Next Sunday we can go through the bunch of replies," he said and left for his

room.

*

When Mr. Karan's wife passed away his daughter Saaru was fifteen years old. He himself was forty-one. He was not actively thinking of remarriage but if he had chanced upon a proper woman he would have married. His widowed elder sister lived with them. As she was Saaru's favourite aunt she made up for the loss of the mother.

Saaru was eighteen when she consulted a gynaecologist for scanty periods. After examination the doctor declared that Saaru had infantile uterus and she would not be able to bear children. Father and daughter accepted the news without much fuss at that time, but later when she was of marriageable age Mr. Karan was bothered. Saaru did not outwardly show concern for her disability, but it was constantly in the background of her mind. She was always of a cheerful disposition. She had many friends in college as well as in her work spot. She however never allowed her relationships with men to reach a stage when she would have had to declare that she would be barren. She never considered keeping it a secret.

Her aunt died when she was twenty-one. From then on Mr. Karan was more and more concerned for his daughter. He feared that if something were to happen to him his little girl would be left friendless in the world. More to assuage her father's feeling than for any other reason Saaru suggested they could advertise in the matrimonial columns. The advertisement yielded a handful of replies.

*

Mr. Karan sat on a double sofa with a stack of mail by his side and a waste paper basket on the floor in front. His daughter sat opposite waiting for Dad to begin proceedings. The first envelope was large and thick. Its contents were a sheaf of printed material.

"Some charitable organisation wants us to donate money," he said as he shoved the envelope with its contents into the waste paper basket. The next envelope was thick too. Mr. Saran cut it open with a pair of scissors. Mr. Saran read the contents with a bemused smile.

"What's funny?" asked his daughter.

"This writer, an evangelist, wants to know the first thing I would do when I go to heaven. Have you thought of that Saaru?"

"No."

"Neither have I. This gentleman has apparently; he says he would seek out his Lord the God first and pay his respects to Him. He has further plans. Next he would speak to St. Peter, who he says would be on the right side of God; he has listed a set of questions for him."

"Dad I think it is better you open the thick envelopes later," said Saaru.

Dad agreed. He went one better. He picked out the thick ones and transferred them unopened into the waste paper basket. He picked a thin long yellow envelope from the remaining and cut it open. He unfolded a single sheet it contained and read.

"This man," said Mr. Saran, "who is 61 wants to know if he could apply. It seems he has two young daughters. He wants a companion for his motherless children, to be their friend and guide."

"Two question have been with me ever since I thought of advertising," said Saaru, "how old would be too old, and was I ready to be a governess?"

The next two were frivolous applicants, and the next interested father and daughter. It was from a widower aged 49 with an unmarried daughter who was also Saaru's age.

Saaru chuckled. "He has not mentioned his date of birth. It would be interesting if he is older than his father-in-law." Mr. Saran could not let this pass.

"May be the daughter is older than the mother. That would be vastly more interesting."

"Even if it were so I would insist that she call me Mom." Dad found this amusing. He laughed. Saaru became serious.

"Dad, why did you not marry again? You were just 41 when Mummy passed away." This was not the first time daughter had asked that question; but it has been many years since she had wanted to know why he preferred to remain single. He gave the usual answer.

"I wanted to marry, but my desire was not strong enough to seek a bride actively. If one had come by I might have married."

"Was I responsible for your not seeking marriage?"

"No. If my sister had not kept house for us I might have married for your sake. You needed help in those days."

"Dad."

"Yes darling."

"Dad."

"Yes darling; out with it whatever is bothering you."

"You must be having a horrible time without regular sex."

"Why this sudden desire to discuss sex with me Saaru. We have never done that before."

"Is it wrong for father and daughter to talk about sex."

"It is not of course, but we have never done that."

"We should, at least now Dad."

"OK. Your question is if I am having a horrible time not having regular sex."

"Yes."

"You assume that I am having sex occasionally."

"I suppose you must Dad. That is natural. If you have been abstemious please excuse me for assuming otherwise."

"Do you want me to confirm or deny it Saaru?"

"No. Dad you must be jerking off frequently." The question was unexpectedly bold. Dad did not answer for a moment."

"I do Saaru," he said slowly.

"Dad do I appear in your fantasies when you are jerking off." Dad stared vacantly. Daughter had not intention of releasing Dad from his misery.

"I am waiting for your answer Dad."

"I try my best not to, but from time to time I am powerless."

"Especially when reaching the climax."

"Yes."

"Please don't get up Dad. Now ask me questions."

"About what?"

"My sex habits."

"No Saaru I won't."

"Then listen to my answers."

"I have not asked any questions."

"You have in your subconscious, and I am answering those."

"I have not asked any question in my subconscious either."

"You should have. Anyway here are the answers for your unasked questions."

"OK, make it brief."

"Dad I miss having sex too. I do the female equivalent of jerking off. You are in my fantasies. I do not try not to have you as my prime fantasy object. I use you. I revel in it. It is one of my pleasures. Your comments?"

Mr. Karan got up. He had had his fill. He moved off.

*

They had lunch. They were rather silent during lunch. After lunch Mr. Karan went to his room for his afternoon nap. Saaru cleaned up and then settled down on the sofa to read the matrimonial column. She wanted to test if it was really as good an entertainer as her father said it was. She found it painful; she could sense the agony behind each piece. She closed her eyes and snoozed.

Promptly at four Mr. Karan had tea.

"Shall we go to the beach this evening," said Saaru.

"Why not?" said Mr. Karan.

They sat in their favourite corner in direct line with the new lighthouse. Even on Sundays that corner is never crowded. Saaru sat closer to her Dad than was her wont, almost rubbing against him. She took his hand. She had never done that before. Dad did not seem to notice the change. He held her hand, and when she kneaded his hand he responded. She has never felt more relaxed than she was at that moment. She lent on her Dad and rubbed her cheek on his shirtsleeve. He brought his other hand forward and pinched her other cheek.

"You are my darling," he said. Saaru responded by lifting up his shirtsleeve and kissing his arm. She then rubbed her nose on it and then rested her cheek on his bare arm.

"I want to rest my head on your lap," she said. He placed himself suitably and she rested her head on his thigh.

"Rub my neck," she said. He did more. He gently rubbed her face, and front of neck, and back of neck. Daughter helpfully exposed the upper part of her chest. He rubbed that too.

"Please don't leave me Dad."

"What a question, Saaru. You are everything to me."

"Please don't find a man for me. I want you and you alone."

"That is perfectly OK with me."

"You and I."

"Yes Saaru, you and I."

It as getting dark; they moved away holding hands as if they were lovers. It was late in the evening by the time they reached home. They were in the dark passage.

"Dad."

"Yes, Saaru, I am here. Have you found the switch?"

"No, Dad." But she found her Dad as she was groping and as if on cue they hugged and they kissed on all parts of the face; and then they found their lips and they kissed with the passion of long lost lovers.

"Hold me up Dad my legs are feeling weak." He held her and they kissed again. He found the switch and turned on the light. Their eyes met and again they kissed till both were breathless.

*

She went about her chores while Dad sat at the computer. They had dinner in silence, and while Saaru was busy clearing the table Dad watched some sports on TV. He got up ready to retire for the night. In his bedroom he found Saaru in a flowered nightdress.

"Known this dress Dad?"

"Of course I do. It's your Mom's."

"You remember when you saw her wear it first?"

"She wore it for her nuptials."

"Her nuptials, Dad?"

"Sorry, ours."

"Ours Dad?" Dad did not reply. He was rather embarrassed.

"Its ours Dad," she said and pointed to the bed. Right in the centre she had placed a very red rose. She came closer and placed her hand on his shoulders.

"Dad are you feeling uncomfortable making love to your daughter?"

"No Saaru. I am amazed that I am not."

"It is proper that you are not amazed Dad. There is no greater sexual bond than between father and daughter. He is always her first fantasy object, and daughter is so much in Dad's subconscious that even fathers who do not use her in their fantasies have disturbing dreams of having sex with daughter. Look at me Dad. Make eye contact. Chance has brought us into a rare and wonderful relationship. We should not allow it to wither." They made eye contact. Her smile was so gentle and so full of affection that Dad held her in his arms in a tight hold. She responded.

She turned her back to him. "Unzip me," she said." His hand went up hesitantly and then in one bold downward stroke he unzipped. She turned and took two steps backwards. He stood goggling as slowly the dress slipped off her shoulders and the fell to the floor revealing his darling in stark glory.

"You like it Dad?" He nodded.

"Come closer." He took one step forward.

"Closer still Dad." He took another step.

"Touch me." One hand went up; he placed his index finger on her tit.

"Knead me." He cupped her breast and gently squeezed.

"Both sides Dad darling." He placed both hands on her breasts and kneaded. She flipped off his shirt and pulled off the knot of his pyjama tape. She was staring at the hard swaying cock. His eyes followed hers. They looked up. Their eyes met. Suddenly he was on his own. He went down on his knees and moistly kissed her pussy. She rested her back on the edge of a table and spread out her legs.

"Surprising isn't Dad. Just because you are my Dad I have no shame at all is showing my pussy. You like it Dad?"

"It's lovely darling."

"Shall I spread it Dad?"

"Do so, dear." She did so.

He touched her inner leaves and traced his finger up till they reached the clitoris.

"Your clitoris with its hood is just perfect."

"For what Dad?"

"To lick of course, and to bite with my lips,"

"Do so, Dad."

She raised herself on the table and placed her feet at table edge spreading her thighs as far as they would go. Dad sat on a low stool and encircling each of her thighs with his arms he licked her clitoris.

He worked with frenzy, first with the tip of the tongue, and then when it was sufficiently turgid he was able to hold it with his lips and play his tongue on it. Daughter held the back of his head in her entwined fingers and pressed his head against her pussy. Soon the table shook as she vibrated and then she screamed softly as she had orgasm. She ran to the bed and lay on her back.

"Quick Dad, I can't wait." Her feet were in the air and her thighs spread widely. Her Dad was on top of her. Daughter caught hold of her Dad's throbbing cock and inserted it in. He pressed and she jerked as he cut through her virginity to enter.

"I am blessed to have my own darling Dad take my virginity," she said. And both were so hot that soon he had his orgasm and she had hers.

"I have realised my dream Dad," she whispered. He rolled over and they lay side by side savouring their bare bodies in silence.

*

"Dad."

"Yes darling."

"Dad do you want me to suck you?"

"I would like it very much."

"We can do the sixty nine."

"A fine idea."

"My vagina would be full. You like that Dad? I believe entering a vagina already full of semen gives an exquisite feeling. Is that so?"

"I believe it is so, but I have never tried it. But how do you know?"

"I read a lot of erotic stories. I read them and then I rub myself."

"What type of stories?"

"Father-daughter is my favourite. Brother-sister too. I often feel sorry for myself for not having a brother."

"You are quite a girl. Are all girls like that?"

"I think most girls have sexual interest in their fathers."

"Dad this time you try my wet vagina. Sixty-nine can wait."

"OK, when I am ready."

"I'll prepare you Dad." She crouched over Dad who was on his back and licked his cock. She plopped his rose producing a smacking sound. Dad's cock responded well to this treatment.

"It's ready," she said. She lay on her back with feet up in the air. She helped Dad insert.

"How does it feel?"

"It's exquisite," he said.

"Can you describe further?"

"No darling, one has to experience it."

"I am hot Dad. We must have orgasms in unison." They had it with perfect timing and cuddled comfortably exhausted.

"Dad darling."

"Yes, Saaru."

"Are you awake."

"I am."

"I am very happy, Dad."

"I am too Saaru."

"I feel sleepy Dad. When you get up in the night wake me and and... and..."

"And what?"

"May I use the four letter word Dad."

"As a special case you may."

"On second though I won't Dad. You know why?"

"Why not Saaru?"

"You always told me not to use bad words."

"But you say pussy?"

"Have you ever told me not to use that word, Dad?" Saaru found this very amusing. She laughed. "Anyway I think pussy is more elegant than the anatomical term vulva."

"The whole of tomorrow we will not leave this room. We will do nothing but... complete the sentence Saaru."

"Four letter thing Dad, and every thing else that we can think of."

"Saaru, before you sleep please clear one doubt."

"Yes, Dad, what's that?"

"Do we have secrets?"

"You mean do we keep certain things to ourselves?"

"Yes."

"As daughter and father we never have Dad."

"Yes, now?"

"Now, well as lovers never."

"Then tell me if that letter in reply to our ad, that 49 year old man with a 23 year old daughter, was it your doing?" He looked steadily at her, but daughter was avoiding his eyes. She tried to keep a serious face but failed. She broke into a wide grin.

"The idea came to me only after I had placed the ad. I though you would suspect straightaway. I am glad you did not till I worked the trick."

"I am glad I did not," he said, and they laughed, and hugged, and kissed passionately.