Transformation by Trials

I would be dishonest if I said I did not have heaps of fantasies floating in my head after that night. They were not simply fleeting fairy images. They were quite vivid predictions of what might be! I had thoughts of Chuck having me in different ways in different places. Old habits die hard after all! I was the horniest in my entire life and was a bit ashamed of that status which was alien to my disposition.

Then another episode at hi place. It was in the evening and I recall his Puerto Rican gardener, Gusto was working outside. The moment I was in the house and I was in his arms, I had this terrific anticipation grip me. On the one hand I was expecting Chuck to take the lead and make love to me and on the other I was apprehensive that he just might not go there because of the pact we had made about sex. That agreement meant that he wouldn't force me into anything and so far I had given him only one invitation the other night on my couch when I said I wanted him inside.

I was in his arms from the time we walked in and we were on his sofa kissing passionately and his hands were greedily on my breasts. I closed my eyes and let my body go supple in submission. We kissed and ran our hands and lips over each other and it seemed like we needed to take it to another level.

"Let's go inside." He whispered.

"Where?" I asked the redundant question.

"Inside. My bedroom."

I did not hesitate. We walked with arms around our waists until we reached the foot of his bed. Then while still kissing me he gently guided me backwards to a sitting position. This was my first visit to his bedroom and the king size bed with crisp sheets and covers were quite luxurious. I dismissed with disdain a vague thought that Sandra's spirit and scent was still around! I was conscious as this was day time and everything was quite bright. Our upper garments came off quite easily as that ice was already broken. He gestured to take my bottom off and I actually refused! That was such a fragile refusal as the next time he went "Please?" I complied. Oh my god, I was fully nude on his bed in broad daylight! I squirmed and wriggled to twist arms and legs to assume an impossible posture of modesty. Chuck was on all fours over me asking if he could take his clothes off.

"Please do." I answered wondering at his gentlemanly manners even at a time of passion.

I covered my face with my arms as I heard the rustle of clothes coming off. Then I felt his body on me and almost immediately I felt his lips on my lips, cheek, neck, shoulder, armpits and breasts. Oh, how clever he was with his lips and tongue there and his hot breath and negative pressure that was driving me to the levels I was that night on my sofa. He feasted on me visually, orally and with his fingers. I can't ignore or deny enjoying his lovemaking. I felt the obvious length of his manhood on my thigh and the furry surroundings alongside but again I didn't look. He delicately moved his right hand downwards and for the first time I felt his beautiful fingers running up and down my pubes; at first quite nonchalantly nonspecific and then more focused on my opening. Two fingers parted while the other went for my clitoris and got rough and I flinched.

He apologized and when he asked if he hurt me I was quiet and he understood.

He shifted the focus of his oral examination from my breasts to my tummy and my heartbeat quickened in anticipation. Was that impatience or anxiety or was that even the queer embarrassment of exposing my abdominal striae? He was quite swift in his movement downwards and he was quickly onto my mound and a second later onto my womanhood.

My hips involuntarily bucked forward to meet him and then he performed his magic. He stroked my opening with his tongue several times before he pushed into me and then went deeper with sweeping upward strokes all over the most delicious parts of my core. His hot tongue creating waves of happiness in me while I almost felt that part swell in joy. He then brought a finger into me while he kept his fantastic tongue flicking my clit and I urged him to go on with my sounds. He went on and on and on and he had me off the bed in arousal. I also reflexively adducted my thighs to hold him.

"Am I hurting you?" He thought I was pushing him away.

"No. I don't know. It just happens" I was genuinely apologetic.

I looked downwards and I saw his head as it moved while it made me happy. Further down as he was almost on all fours I saw for the first time his engorged penis pointing towards my knees. Cliché or not, I couldn't help notice that Chuck was well endowed in girth and length.

"Can I make love to you?" Again those pleading brown eyes looked deep into mine.

"No." I didn't believe I said it but in that state I guess I wanted him to continue to do what he was doing. It is also possible that I was insentiently fearful of his size. I dislike these comparisons of very personal attributes but Ashok was smaller especially in girth. Much to my selfish delight he took my refusal like the gentleman he is and went back to work on me. This time he used his finger on my clitoris while his tongue explored. It was so incredibly exciting that I did feel I needed to make him happy too.

"Come, let me love you too." I was hoarse with my heavy breathing and throating those moans from my soul.

He curled himself bringing his lower torso towards me. As I reached towards him he lay flat on his back. I got close to him and looked at that majestic organ standing erect and throbbing. I had to hold him. He was gorgeous. My husband never allowed too much of foreplay. At a similar stage he would just want to quickly enter me and be done with. So I cherished the moment I ran my fingers along his entire length, gripped him gently and then gradually tighter and slipped the ever so smooth skin away from that royal purple knob at the end. The ridge that separated the tip from the shaft and the proud and engorged veins that ran randomly on him were a picture of powerful manliness. The nest of his thick pubic hair crowned it's base and as I looked lower down his bag and the testicles lay innocently between his thighs waiting to deliver their load. I rolled over onto me tummy and examined him clinically learning some man anatomy.

I began stroking him lovingly. He moved against me again and kissed me down there while he moaned in pleasure. I turned slightly as he reached for my sex. He kept fondling me gently and I felt my wetness cause his fingers to glide at my entrance and inside.

I couldn't resist tasting him. Oral pleasure was something I rarely gave my husband as he was always in a hurry. Apprehensive of my lack of expertise I held him with one hand and slowly brought my lips around his knob and slowly moved more of his massive shaft into my mouth. He felt nice and filling and I realized I wouldn't be engulfing him fully. I made my movements on him while my fingertips ran superficial lines on his balls and perineum. He loved it and told me it was nice. He went for me with his mouth again but as my strokes got stronger and faster he couldn't cope. He moaned loudly in rhythm with my strokes. I really enjoyed giving him pleasure even though we were not in full sexual union.

He got more and more excited and I felt he was going to cum. "Come on me, darling. Come on my chest!" He moved to squat over my chest and I continued to stroke him as his lovely scrotum swung above my boobs. I alternated back handed strokes with my left to facilitate the recovery of my right. As he groaned and breathed and beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead I found myself panting with enjoyment as well.

Then he hoisted himself up a few inches and his voice trailed off in a higher pitch for the next few strokes before he squirted with one huge grunt. I felt the gush of semen through his penis with each spasm of ejaculation and saw the white stringy liquid emerge from that cute slit like opining at the tip and smear funny lines of mess on my breasts. I kept going until he was completely dry.

He smiled and slumped by my side. He grabbed some tissue to clean up quickly and then he reached for me again.

"Come, let me do it to you." He offered.

"No, I am fine. I am spent."

"Sure? Come on, it's not fair. You worked so hard on me"

"No, no." I held his hand as his fingers reached me. "I am fine." I was quickly off the bed with some clothes on me and was in the bath in a flash.

I had wiped most if his come off but somehow I was tempted to touch a wet spot on my left breast and taste it. I wasn't sure what it felt on my tongue. Those porn stars had them come completely in their mouths. As I let the warm water wash the juices of love from my chest, my abdomen, my genitals and my thighs, I jogged back my memories and gathered some of my thoughts.

I felt no guilt for what happened so far but I was amazed that I had refused sex! I was not craving for it by any stretch of imagination but I found my behavior a trifle untruthful. That aside I found Chuck simply adorable. He was a true gentleman and a dedicated and sensitive lover. I couldn't help smiling to myself about his fancy for my privates as I soaped that exact same part. Guilty, I am of comparing again, but Ashok never gave my genitals a second glance. It was there for a purpose and even though he touched, caressed and kissed there was none of that focused adoration. Suren, my BIL was the same as Chuck according to my sister. So there were these types which was a normal variation within a spectrum. Since most of my life I had no exposure of that angle I never had any great pride in my appearance below my waist. Like many other women, I thought it was an ugly part of the body that needed to be covered. Now I was seeing myself differently as Chuck showered so many praises on the way I looked down there.

Not for the first time he praised my pubic hair, the shape and density of my bush and how the dark hair contrasted with my hairlessness on my thighs and lower abdomen. Again he had complemented me on my virginal look as I looked unspoilt and even unpenetrated which was a kind exaggeration.

As is my nature I came up with a scientific explanation for men's fascination of the female genitals. It was a fancy that led to them seeking it and therefore trying to procreate. Then, I argued with myself why don't women seek the penis as much? Women, in general get turned off when they see a man exposed except when they are in an intimate setting. We like quality, I assured myself. We like the whole man and are not looking to produce only numbers like our male cohabitants.

There was a knock on the door. "Hey, are you OK? That's a long shower!"

"Coming." I had lost track of time. I quickly dried myself, dressed and went out to find chuck still naked sitting on the bed. "Sorry. Your shower is so good and powerful. "I lied."

"I have to wash too, you know. It's all dried and caked up now."

"Sorry." I hesitated. "You didn't get any mess on you, you liar! Anyway, OK come I'll help you wash up!"

Chuck beamed as he heard what he wanted to hear. He stood up and marched into the bathroom even before I had time to digest what I had just said. I followed him a tad embarrassed. I had actually offered to scrub him! He walked straight into the shower stall and I stood by the open door when he adjusted the temperature and used the hand shower to let the water flow down his body.

I picked up a sponge, squeezed some liquid soap and applied it on his back shoulders, legs and tummy.

"Take your clothes off. You're going to get wet." That was true. He turned the shower off.

I took my top off and kept my bra and my pants on and started scrubbing his belly button area.

"You are still shy? Scrub me where it matters."

I knew what Chuck was saying and again I realized I was slipping back to my almost inherent sexual timidity and false pretenses of the absence of carnal senses. In a way I did not have any desire or arousal at that moment but there was no need to avoid touching the man whom I was intimate with.

With an abrupt transformation of my intent I brought my hand down to his penis and scrotum and gently applied the suds working up a thick lather. As I soaped that area I realized how innocently vulnerable and soft the flaccid penis was. I covered it with lather fully, alternatively using the sponge and my hand. Then I went down to his sac and did the same but with delicate fingers. He parted his legs to accommodate my caring. I looked up to see his eyes closed and his face in a state of relaxed bliss. There appeared in me a rather mysterious yearning now to knead manly muscle. Even as that craving surprised me I moved my left hand to his handsome buttocks. The shining smooth skin encased those strong masses of muscle making up the rather sexy shape that Chuck had visible through his pants. While my right did lazy aimless circles in front my left hand made purposeful strokes across, downward and diagonal on his delightful twin globes. I wondered why the male butt is such an undervalued commodity in feminine appreciation. When I pushed my fingers down his cleft and went multiple times past that puckered area and reached the soaping of his perineum, I heard soft moans. To my surprise I felt the stirring of his penis. If there is something that visually arouses me, it was the gradual pulsatile engorgement of a penis which was reacting to my actions. I gave the sleeping giant all the attention he deserved with both hands but nervously conscious that I might have to take my clothes off again. A glance at the clock above told me it was still not sunset yet.

"Please, Srila. Please."

"What? Please what?"

"I don't know. I want to do something. I need to come again."

"Don't worry. I'll help you." I promised. Later he would use this 'help you' phrase to refer to masturbation and it stuck for a long time.

I immediately started stroking him with my right while my left cradles his balls and felt his butt everything all soaped up. He arched backward and groaned and grunted and rather quickly climaxed. I guess I was surprised a bit at the amount he spilt on the floor.

As he cooled down I washed away the soap and smiled up at his drained out face. I wiped off the soap suds on my arms and shoulders. Leaving him to do the rest I put on my top and went out of the bathroom.

He was out in a few minutes wearing his bath gown.

"Thanks so much. That was so nice and caring."

"I enjoyed it too. Don't thank me. We did it together."

That was some day! I got back home before dinner and sat with my son at the dinner table. He looked a bit upset and wouldn't say much and snapped when I asked. I feared the worst. He had heard, saw or perceived something!

We finished dinner in silence and he was about to charge up to his room when I stopped him at the foot if the stairs.

"Son, you can share your worries with me, OK? I know you like nobody else. We can talk this through and I promise you'll feel better."

He stopped looked at me when I saw tears welling and he turned, hugged me and wept.

I had never seen him cry for more than five years so it really upset me. My apprehensions were gone that he had heard something about me as this didn't feel like anger. I sat on the steps and made him sit a step lower and rest his head on me.

"Tell me, baby. What's wrong?"

He leant on me and poured his heart out. He had a showdown with his closest buddy and the girl he liked best in his class took his buddy's side. Now both are not talking to him. When I asked him what the disagreement was about he didn't tell me saying that it wasn't important. Then he told me that his soccer coach had informed him that he had to sit out for the next match. There was too much weighing down on a young heart added to the breakdown of our marriage and the departure of his father. When I talked to him more I realized that he feared that his best buddy was going out with his favorite girl that weekend.

Now I understood.

My little boy had become a man. At seventeen he had a crush and he was hurt. I hugged him kissed his lovely sweet smelling locks of hair and ran my fingers down his face and neck. He snuggled against my breast and made himself comfortable against the softness.

"It's going to be OK, sonny." I rested my chin on his head gently. "If it comforts you I went through - we all go through that in life many times. Be brave and look to your future. Not only are there many more guys out there, these two are not gone forever. Small misunderstandings are a part of life. They give you the strength and experience to deal with the bigger ones."

I held his shoulders and felt how muscular he had become. He did play sports and went to the gym at school. My hands went down to his chest. He winced to my touch on the right side.

"What's there?" I asked with concern.

"I got hurt yesterday, mom. Some guy's boot. I ran into him." He lifted his T shirt and I peered to see the awful purple bruise.

"Oh! You never told me. Come I'll give you a cold pack. It'll reduce the pain and inflammation."

After making a fuss he agreed and lay down on the sofa and I brought a bag of ice to place on his bare chest. I sat on the edge and caressed his chest gently. He put his arm around my waist and said: "Thank you, mama. I love you!"

"Love you too, baby!"

It's funny this connection between mother and son. I realized I would be doing this differently if it were my daughter. His touch on me and my fingers on his hairy manly chest were somehow very sensual without being incestuous. I thought about the Freudian theory of Oedipus Complex and wondered if my boy ever felt anything like that for me. He was wearing a pair of shorts and his genital bulge was obvious and I wondered at its dimensions and appearance and how it had morphed from the little baby bud I had scrubbed! Did he have a regular girlfriend? Had he experienced sex already? I shook these weird thoughts out of my sex starved head. It must be that sofa. Chuck and I had used it the other day! My boy got up to go to bed and I helped him and kissed him good night.

I know my daughter has had sex. She was using contraceptives. Ashok was a bit apprehensive when he learnt of this, like any typical father but I managed to calm him down saying that was the norm and our darling girl was sharp enough not to hurt herself.

I curled up in my bed and went on another thinking trip; long and deep. My son gave me a jolt. It felt like he suspected something and eventually it turned out to be something else. I also replayed my shameful thoughts when I had run my fingers on his chest and he rested his head on my breasts. I hated myself for having those thoughts and put the blame squarely on my physical relationship with Chuck. I told myself several times during all this that I wouldn't hurt my kids and now I decisively included thoughts against them as well as my conduct. It is my current situation; I was convinced absolving myself of any wanton wrong doing or thinking.

I rewound my family life again and I remember Ashok in the bathtub completely nude regularly with my children till they were below ten. I could never do that even with my husband but he was OK with it and the children thought nothing of it then and said nothing many years after. Something to research!

Chuck! Where was I going with him? Whenever we were alone he wanted intimacy which was cute and all that but is that only what he wants? I also thought of our current status where we were extremely intimate without having actual sex. To be very frank to myself I wanted him to have me and every encounter I was getting closer and perhaps wanting it more. May be I was the one who wanted only sex!

There was a great deal of confusion on a number of fronts. May be I should not encourage him. May be he and our association has changed my character unrecognizably! Changed me negatively!