Transformation by Trials

I changed my clothes to go to bed that night and I noticed the dampness in the panties I was wearing. There was no fooling me on how that happened. I looked at it intently and flipped it into the laundry bin and decided to forget about it. I checked that my son was OK and flopped on my lonely bed.

Sleep never came.

Chuck's words of love kept coming back to me and his parting kiss on my cheek was indelibly stuck in my brain; touch, sound and all. He was a nice guy. He meant well. He was kind. He was good looking and well groomed. He even had a sexy butt! His masculine nearness turned me on but I was refusing to accept it. Maybe he wanted only my body and as a man that's what will show. He was a source of great strength and support in difficult times and if he was in love with me should I spurn him just because my upbringing and parental culture did not accept extramarital affairs? I was not even married in the emotional sense for god's sake. Was it wrong? Was I being cheap? Doubt, questions and indecision wracked my brain before I dozed off to a restless slumber.

When I woke up with what I thought was some clarity, I wrote him a long email asking him all the questions that sprang in my confused mind. Essentially I was asking where the future was in this association and whether it was sustainable in our different cultural backgrounds. I realize what a stupid email message that was when I spoke to him later. His mind was less cluttered and he expressed it well, when he said that he loved me and if I loved him what else mattered?

This conversation got me thinking out of the Indian box that many of us get cramped in. I told myself that I had been hurt in my marriage and I was young enough to love again and I would follow my heart wherever it took me. The only condition I had was that I would not do anything that would hurt my children. Fair enough.

So I accepted Chuck's love and spent plenty of quality time with him. I wasn't prepared for intimacy even as I thought that was still a distant possibility. I went out with him and we talked and we laughed and I realized that I loved this man very much. So the first step was when he came home quite late at night and in the shadows of darkness at my door, he kissed me full on my lips. That was the most exhilarating physical encounter since my husband left me and it was quite an experience. His strong arms and shoulders cradling me with the musty man fragrance and his hard muscular torso gave me the protective cover while his hot tongue and passionate lips devoured my mouth in a way that I never knew. I simply melted in his embrace and my soul gave into him as my body poured out to him.

We separated and he left a little later. My son was sleeping in his room. I did not ever want him to know this. That was me. That was also a reflection of my upbringing and the pseudo moral values that I was grappling with inside. I knew that but the strings tugging at me from within were strong. It would be difficult for those who do not know our culture to comprehend the Indian woman's mindset. Sexual intimacy was something that was confined strictly to the domain of marriage. Before a matrimonial commitment the girls unknowingly wrap up those carnal thoughts deep inside. That may not be the same for boys but so it was for us. Boys were there to giggle over and talk to. Nothing else was thought of.

During our many meetings I made Chuck promise that we won't have sex if both of us weren't ready and he readily complied to that request. So when we hugged and kissed in the next few days and his hands strayed down to my butt or under my shirt I stopped him and he offered an immediate apology. That wouldn't last long, as I realized. Each of our subsequent meetings, I was reacting emotionally to him more and more.

One day after one of our drives he stopped over at a parking lot. I was not sure what he was doing but it was a lonely spot alright. As expected we were in each other's arms and kissing passionately when he moved his lips down to my neck and pulled my top to a side and laid a trail of kisses from my lips, via my cheek and neck to my bare shoulder, I must have moaned because I was so aroused.

"Your shoulders are so beautiful!" I simply looked into his soft eyes and then when he kissed me again his left hand slipped down from my shoulder to my upper chest. I was waiting; no dying for him to touch my breasts. As he continued kissing me he obliged.

I did moan this time for sure! He gently pressed and caressed my right and then my left breast and I cursed the stupid bra that was an uncomfortable barrier. He then gently rolled my nipple between thumb and forefinger and I was ready to scream.

While I grabbed his neck and planted kisses all over his face, my fingers found a button to undo to creep under to feel his hairy chest. My nerves were yelling for him to take these clothes off so that I could engulf him. My desire was so transparent I think even Chuck decided it was too a public a place to continue.

He pulled away and he drove me back home and we parted with another soulful kiss. That night I did something I hadn't done since I was a teenager. I got into bed and absolutely uncontrollably my hands went downwards, thought of Chuck kissing me all over my face, neck and breasts and I rubbed myself until I had pleasant waves of ecstasy run through me for about thirty seconds. I could go on while I thought of being in Chuck's arms but I stopped and went to sleep feeling somehow fulfilled.

Oh my god, I thought. What had I become within months of being separated from my husband of almost twenty-three years? I had confusion in my mind on the promise that I had made Chuck make with regard to sex. The fact that I was doubting it itself was a message that my body was tugging at the strands of my morality.

It was within my personality attributes to live a normal life in between these episodes of beautiful love but hidden from family and friends because of our archaic moral values carried rather grudgingly in my ever questioning mind. Yes, I loved him and unknowingly I had accepted the validity of our relationship through the simplistic explanation he had offered. Now I was living it and perhaps embracing his values and conceivably, he was right.

A few days later I was at his home on a Saturday in the morning and we were looking at what options we had for lunch. I was lying on my tummy on his sofa in the family room. He was seated beside running his fingers through my hair.

"Let's do Thai today. I love their coconut rice." Chuck loved spicy food and we often visited 'The Royal Orchid' in the neighborhood.

"Sounds good." I agreed but I was a bigger fan of Vietnamese cuisine.

"OK let's go then." he said and kissed me softly on my cheek. My eyes were closed and I felt his warm breath before his cool lips touched me.

"Hmm... Do that again."

He now put his arms around my shoulders and brought his lips to my cheek and then dragged them down to my lips. My eyes opened and I saw his happy face smiling and looking like he wanted me to be more awake and responding. I brought my arm up from my side and went round his neck and we kissed again.

Chuck then moved over me and laid down on me with me on my tummy, and his entire delicious weight gradually settling. It felt awfully nice squashed between plush cushions and his tough frame. My face was turned to my left and so was his and we were cheek to cheek. My arms, one thrown above my head and the other by side were matched by his. His chest pressed my back like a massive masseur's hand and his hard abdominal muscles flattened my butt. Erotically, even his thighs and legs were mirrored above mine with only his feet touching the bed as he was a good five inches taller than me. Somewhere between my thighs higher up I felt the unmistakable hardness of his manhood through his pants and mine. I could live like this forever and I had often told my husband that this was as gratifying for me as was the sex act. Ashok, of course never understood or even gave it a second thought.

Then he asked me something. I am not sure if I was surprised or not.

"Can I take off your jeans?"

I kept silent not knowing what to say

"Please? I want to see you." There was some pleading and it was unnecessary to make him beg for something that was not too difficult to comply with. But this is me. I am a very shy person!

I nodded into the pillow and closed my eyes. I felt his hand crawl underneath to find the button at the front. I hoisted myself up and undid it myself. He yanked at it and I helped again by raising myself up. He brought it down to mid-thigh and I heard him breathe deep and a hoarse whisper of: "Wow!"

I still had my panties and my modesty did not allow me to pull it down unsolicited. His fingers were at the waist band and again I obliged by lifting myself an inch or two and he pulled the garment down.

My eyes were firmly closed as I heard the initial words and gasps of praise and then felt his gentle fingers on me. He was so soft and delicate in his touch that it was almost ticklish. He ran a fingertip down the center and around to the sides and then with both hand ran little circles on both protrusions. My feminine consciousness made me grip my thighs together allowing no view beyond but soon his fingers were parting me and going down towards my most sensitive spot.

"No, please don't. I am so shy!" I covered my face as I said this but there was a huge section in my poor heart that was asking me to let him do whatever he wanted.

"Turnover, baby. I want to see you fully"

"No!" I was smiling but firm in I my refusal as I quickly pulled up my panties and jeans. "Let's go for lunch."

That was that.

It didn't take him long to ask me again. We were in his car a day later, driving to his place.

"Srila, you are such a beautiful creature. Can I not see you fully? Please?"

Again that pleading and again I felt why I should deny him something that's so easily granted. I said nothing but I dwelt on this male fascination for visual gratification which was quite interesting. Men like looking and touching while we women liked to feel within. Some men like Ashok liked boobs while it seemed like Chuck was not too much into that part of the anatomy as he was asking to see below the belt! Gowri had told me that Suren was also similar. He loved to see her down there. Their first episode of intimacy was when he asked to see her and he had masturbated.

While all that seemed weird and even perverse earlier on, I had begun to rationalize sexual behavior based on biological traits of survival and procreation. That was my considered opinion on subjects such as porn, oral sex, homosexuality and infidelity.

We reached his place and we were sitting chatting in his living area after I had successfully changed the topic. Chuck though, like all men can be persuasive when they have a specific objective.

"OK. How about that?" He looked at me quizzically. "Please? Darling?"

It seemed almost cruel to keep him in that state. I was shy too and it may be surprising for anybody to know that even my husband of so many years had not seen me fully exposed. I was always quick to cover and in the nights the lights were always out.

I realized I was wearing jeans again and that was the most difficult thing to get off.

"OK. After that we leave, right?" I was ensuring that we do not get carried away though I was slowly realizing that I was getting weaker.

I walked up in front of him, mentally closed my mind to the overwhelming shyness in me and at his eye level I pulled my jeans and panties off.

I looked down at his face as it glowed in excitement like a teenager getting his first view, he looked up and said: "Wow! You are so beautiful!" Then he ran an index finger through the tuft of hair and then down my slit and then he grabbed my butt with both hands and brought his face and his mouth to me and gave me a kiss on my lower lips. About ten seconds into that and my shyness evaporated and was replaced by desire. I may have been thrusting myself into him and my hand went to the back of his head. My nerves screamed at him to use his tongue and go inside me.

The same peculiar unsolicited warning bells rang in my head as I disengaged, moved back and pulled my pants back and said: "Let's go."

Funny me! I have no rational explanation for this rather bizarre behavior. I put it down to a sort of guilt for doing something against the institution of family or an anxiety that Chuck will think I am cheap or that he will unearth my deep seated sexual desires.

That was it!

Moments of thoughtful recollection gave me the answer that my entire sexuality was based on hiding my sexual needs. As eccentric as that sounds, that was what I was doing. I wrote a quick email to my sister and she seemed to agree. She wrote: 'I always thought you were too proud to let your physical needs show. There is no loss of dignity in that. It is a normal desire shared by all women even our mother.' I always respected my sister's wisdom and now it shone through more than ever. She went on later: 'Our men don't ridicule us for being shy. They don't get shocked if we are bold in bed. They'd certainly be turned off if you are frigid. But if you pretend, they will be angry and that's not good for any relationship!' She made a lot of sense.

It was with this new enlightenment that I wanted to continue my life with Chuck. This veil of pseudo chastity was a tenacious, though intangible obstacle. I had to rip it off. There was also a little matter in the back of my mind that my writing and other professional tasks were way behind schedule. I made a mental promise to myself to get that back on track as soon as I could. Two priorities for the next few weeks.

I spoke to Chuck several times a day on the phone. As we were rapidly moving forward with our relationship and I was discovering myself so late in life and also because I had to keep this away from the kids, I slowed down a bit. Chuck queried that but he was understanding when I explained. In my own odd way and quite unmindfully I was churning the possibilities of future encounters in my mind. I thought about my body and how it would look without clothes. At 42, I stepped in front of a full-length mirror nude for self-examination for the first time.

People did call me nice looking from my school days but I always looked younger than I was. When I was in high school they thought I was thirteen and when I married at 20 many of my husband's people thought he was cradle snatching. I didn't look a day older than 16. Partly because of my smooth complexion handed down from my mother to both of us girls and my petite frame on baby face I remained younger looking throughout my twenties and thirties. A month or so ago the divorce lawyer put my age down as early thirties which was flattering. Now looking at myself with my black, wavy shoulder length hair, which I always prided myself in and had now had those few gray strands dyed, I could easily pass for 33 or 34. The skin I was blessed with became much lighter onto my breasts and my nipples were a light brown. Ashok loved my breasts as they were of good size and shape with hardly any sag till a slight droop recently. A tiny regret touched me that Chuck was not a boobs man. Going downwards what worried me was the striae that we women develop on our abdomen after pregnancy. I never took that much notice of that and now I was staring at it almost wishing it to disappear. My hips were very Indian and wide with a fairly good sized buttocks which according to Chuck appeared much bigger without clothes. I thought about shaving my pubes and then gave it up as Chuck said nothing about it when he looked at me. Besides I had never done that. The girls nowadays were shaved and I was surprised that my daughter was one of them too.

With a sudden thought of shyness at my vanity at middle age I moved away from the mirror. Yes, I was presentable alright! I had done this self-approval now and I had not even before my wedding! There was little doubt that I was preparing myself for Chuck to take me though I was not admitting it to myself.

I fired a quick email to the wisest sister in the world in whom I had confided in. She replied after ten hours which was expected lag time from half way across the globe.

'You are a clever woman, Sri.' She wrote. 'if he is nice I am sure you would have made him go through all the hoops before you came to that conclusion. My caution would be to remind you that we seldom have an unclouded brain when we love and that crafty men who want only to have sex can disguise themselves brilliantly.'

Was there a red flag fluttering somewhere in my blind spot? What if Chuck was the crafty sort? He would ditch me after he had me. Now, if I was planning a life with him I would be broken again within months. But was I?

Probably not. I was possibly rebounding in my recent jilting and what's wrong if I wanted some intimacy. I peeled off the pretense that I had around me and promised myself that I will be genuine to myself in future. An honest translation of that meant I was prepared for sex with Chuck.

Now Chuck lived alone whereas my son lived with me. So a lot of times I had to go to his place for some privacy. The only times we met at my place were when the boy was away or late at night when he was asleep when we would sit in darkness in my living room whispering in hushed tones.

On this particular day he was fast asleep, though and when Chuck and I slipped out of a Diwali (Indian festival of lights) party. I opened the door softly and as soon as we were in my living room we were in each other's arms French kissing and feeling each other up. It was on that day that I rejoiced when Chuck showed some interest in my boobs. He kept fondling them and fairly quickly he had my upper half naked. Through the sodium lights that streaked through a window I saw my breasts standing proud and heaving up and down with my excited breathing. He was seeing them for the first time and I was proud they looked good. He mumbled his praises and very quickly had his glorious lips and tongue on my nipples. I have had that done before but not with this skill nor for that duration. What was it, about ten heavenly minutes? My spirits soared as my body became limp and rigid in successive periods of heavy breathing and breath holding. My mouth uttered soft moans and groans which were getting dangerously audible. The desire in my insides was tearing me apart. Chuck was quick to take my pants off and he slipped off his too and lay on me on my favorite sofa. Bare chests rubbing and his sex against mine separated by the flimsiest of inner garments, his and mine. He started moving his pelvis to rub against me and I couldn't fathom how he was accurate in his targeting my feminine folds with his member. I didn't complain as the sensation was indescribable.

"Let's pretend to make love!" He went in my ear. That needed no affirmative response. We were doing that already. It was something I had never done before and mind bogglingly erotic.

"I want you inside me!" My first confession of wanting sex. My wetness was making a mess down there as I could feel it. Why wouldn't he listen to me? Is he still keeping his promise? Good god! What a silly man. I am dying of lust! He kept grinding my sex with his strong bulge with delectable interruptions of eating my nipples. My head was about to burst with the throbbing and I was going to have an almighty orgasm. He simply kept going and I was climbing the clouds without knowing the heights or the limits.

He took a break to pant. I joined him in sweaty recovery. He rolled off me.

What? He was not going to do it?

I dared not ask as the relics of my old conservative self, held that thought back. Gradually my arousal wore away and I covered myself as I normally would. He cooled off too. That was the end of that night's togetherness.