(Vikram Kak, though years' younger, became very close to me when he worked under me for two years. He is a Kashmiri, born and brought up in Delhi, lost his parents at a very young age, raised by his maternal uncle, an IITian from Delhi IIT. Being Kashmiri he has enviable flair complexion. He is tall, well built. In short he is a real 'hunk'. Many say, had he tried his luck in Bollywood as a filn star, he would have been more successful in life. But he preferred to be a Software Engineer with a MBA degree. He is right now a Vice President of a premier Indian Software House, posted in Mumbai. As I collected from him, being hunk and flamboyant he has been always a lady's man from his school days. Old, young no matter, he is a cynosure of fair sex. That had given him the license of sexual intimation with many women, married or unmarried. Over time he became a playboy and never got married. Once I asked him having such a bright academic background why he didn't migrate to USA, he gave an incredible answer. He was so addicted to his playboy lifestyle, he never felt forfeiting it going to US. After he moved to Mumbai, we hardly met. But we kept our contact with occasional exchange of emails, or tele conversation. But whenever we met, I felt overenthusiastic to know his other life and he was also eager to share his experiences with me. I know, some of his stories are real, some maybe his fantasies. But whatever they maybe, listening to him is a heart throbbing experience. But recently when I met him in Bangalore, I found him little nervous in telling his experience with a Brigadier's wife who caught him wrong foot. Though he enjoyed it physically, it didn't at all give him the mental pleasure that he always looked for. I tried to assimilate his experience to a story where I might have used some of my own fantasies to spice it up.)
From my abundant sex odyssey with lovely women, I was convinced that the married women in their thirties were the best bed partners, horny, exciting and stimulating. Should I have a choice, I would prefer to go along with a married in her thirties, drowned in 'Seven-year-itch' syndrome, a male syndrome equally valid for fair sex and fed up with stereo-typed sex with her hubby, than an unmarried in her twenties booming in sex fantasies. In my earlier days I enjoyed sex more physically than mentally. But of late I realized, mental satisfaction was the ultimate. Once attained, it zoomed your physical attainment to multiply. When my sex mate groaned, moaned, shrieked in extreme ecstasy, attained repeated orgasms, it gave me more satisfaction than my own physical pleasure when my cock burst to dump huge load on her love box. Particularly, when she put her parting kiss on my cheek as a token of her gratification, I felt, I achieved the most memorable and satisfactory moment of my life.
So, of late I preferred sex with only married women in their thirties, unsatisfied with their stagnating sex life with their life partners, flabbergasted with the uncertainty looming large on their lust, passion and sexual desire. Surprisingly, I found plenty of them around me, particularly in the elitist society. When I analyzed its reason, I obseved, this dissatisfaction wss rampant when the males were too much involved in their business or professional activities forgetting and neglecting their private life. Sometime, having sex with wife for many years, the husbands began to feel monotony and lose interest in it. Such apathy, be it due to too much involvement in profession or be it due to growing loss of charm in sex made their wives easy victim. Somehow I could identify these ladies from their sad look with a kind of desperation in their eyes. Rarely my calculation misfired and I had rollicking experiences with my identified ladies. Any way my big asset in attracting fair sex was my look and then my God gifted well-endowed, long and thick manhood. Last but not the least was my flair of eating my women thoroughly and decisively. Surprisingly, but fortunately for me, the women having a rollicking sex experiences with me promoted me to their close friends, maybe unknowingly and I got invitation from some of them. So was the case with the Brigadier's wife.
I made a hurricane trip to Chennai for signing a huge Software contract with a car manufacturer that my company won competing tooth and nail with other big Software houses of the country. This incident happened during this trip. I reached Chennai on Thursday and had a plan to sign the contract by Friday afternoon. Since I had to organize a presentation to a French delegation on Saturday, I planned to fly back to Mumbai the same evening. In fact, I had my confirmed return ticket on a late evening flight of Friday. But my plan got upset on Thursday afternoon itself when the Chief of Systems of the car manufacturer Mr. S Venkatraman, popularly known as Venky in his friend circle, requested me to attend a cocktail party arranged by one of his very close friends Brigadier Shyam Dhawan. When I expressed my inability to stay back, he refused to listen to me and took all responsibilities of rescheduling my Friday return to an early morning flight of Saturday. Since Venky would be the main contact person in this huge software project from their side, it put me in great dilemma. Could I afford to disappoint him at this stage? So, with my fingers crossed I gulped his dictate.
As soon as contract signing formalities were over, I rushed to my hotel to freshen up and prepare for the party. In this regard I was very particular, never go to a party straight from my work place with its stains and tiredness. I took a long shower, dressed up elegantly and prepared a cup of coffee. Switching TV on, I sat on the sofa and finished my coffee. As arranged Venky arrived in my hotel dot at seven and called me from the reception. Switching TV off I went down to the reception. Venky took me to his car where his wife was waiting. He introduced me to his charming wife and drove us to the Brigadier's bungalow. It was a beautiful bungalow surrounded by a well-maintained garden.
The Brigadier couple gave us a warm welcome and led us to their huge living room where another five couples were waiting for us to join. Now a days it was very difficult to guess age of a person by his look. But with his Brigadier-like thick moustache he looked like at his mid forties, while his wife at her late thirties considering a normal difference of five to six years for most of the Indian couples. Still his wife Shilpa looked like at her early thirties with her very enticing rob, a sleeveless black satin top matched with a golden A-shaped long skirt and a golden high-heel, strapped sandal. Her beautiful bouncy hair added further elegance to her heart throbbing look. Though other ladies in the room were all attractively dressed, a few in expensive Saris with choli-type blouses, a few in designer Salwar-kameez, the Brigadier's wife looked exclusive among them.
After initial introduction, drinks were served. When Scotch was available, I didn't look at other options. I took a glass of Chivas Regal on rock. Being a party animal and enjoying playboy lifestyle I had no problem in mixing with people, particularly with fair sexes. In no time I became cynosure of all of them. I could see some jealous looks on their life mates' faces. Frankly speaking, whenever I discovered such jealousy, my virility started flying in a new horizon. And then among so many sophisticated, well-dressed, flirtatious and chirping women a feel-good factor would surely storm anyone's mind and soul. How could I be an exception?
After first drink dance started. With my growing fascination on Brigadier's wife, I didn't hesitate proposing her to be my first partner of the evening. She gorgeously accepted my appeal as if she was awaiting it for years. We started dancing.
"You must be knowing Sunita Sethuraman" she said raising her eyebrows. Her voice shuddered with her dancing steps.
"Who is she?" I pretended as if I didn't know her. But I knew, how many rollicking intimate moments I enjoyed with her whenever I was in Bangalore.
"She is from Bangalore. She is your great fan" she raised her eyebrows and slurred, "Come on. Don't pretend"
"Oh ho, that Sunita of Bangalore" I stammered willfully, "She is a lovely lady. Gorgeous, fascinating".
"Only that!" she burst into giggles, "Isn't she great in bed?"
Her unwarranted comment took me aback. I realized, she knew about our intimacy. It would be no use pretending further.
"So, you know about our odyssey" I surrendered.
"Oh yeah" she exhaled with a sigh of relief, "She tells everything to me. Oh my God, she enjoyed your pumping so much, you can't believe".
Earlier any kind of flirtation used to warm me up rapidly. But now a days I stayed cool, even hearing worst flirtation. But Brigadier's wife floored me with her reins less talk. I could not even believe, a lady could be so outspoken and unpretentious in her first meeting with a stranger. But I felt elated discovering another prospect of my sex odyssey. I knew, the gorgeous lady in my hand would love to get my manhood in her love box and thoroughly eaten.
"You know" she started talking more enthusiastically, "Sunita told me, you were coming to Chennai to meet Venky. Venky is our very old family friend. Immediately I called him up and requested to bring you to this party. In fact, this party is arranged only for you".
"I am greatly honored, Mam" I nodded with a gratifying smile.
