I had been a normal guy all my life.
I had good friends, I loved them all. I played sports time to time. I loved computer game. I lived to eat, was social, did well in school, undergrad and then grad. I was a good scientist, not overtly brilliant but successful. If you met me in real life, you would think I am the definition of normal.
Yet, now I was in the midst of something which I never thought I would be in: an affair.
It bothered me that Sud was in fact, a married woman. It went against my ethics and who I was and what I stood for. Marriages are sacred and should be left so.
Yet, when I thought of Sud, I remembered not the fact that she was married, but her face as she looked into the stained mirror in the public washroom. I remembered her face, red with effort, my underwear stuffed into her mouth, wet with her drool. I remember her body rocking back and forth with my thrusts controlled by my strong grip on her hair, her face rocking close and then far from the mirror itself. I remember the fact that she moaned, muffled by my underwear, so intensely that her veins popped on the sides of her neck. I could never imagine I was driving this.
My life so far, my normal life, had done nothing to prepare me for this. I was prepared to give talks about cancer detection. I was prepared to lecture people about science. I could easily switch to tutorials on Modern Warfare or FIFA. But not this. I had no idea how it would be like to be in this, do this and be able to do more.
My mind was fucked.
This was the last semester of my grad school and I was swamped at work, trying to wrap up my PhD thesis and answer questions that were holding up my scientific publications. Anyone who has gone through this will know what a pain that is. I was good at my work, but only when I was focussing on it. Now, 70% of my mind was taken by Sud. I had never known a feeling like this before. My mind would constantly drift to those moments when I felt like I owned her. It was a powerful feeling that made me feel proud and powerless of my own mind.
To be able to focus, I found myself masturbating multiple times a day. The post masturbation clarity lasted for sometime in which I could squeeze in quality work. But my overall output had dropped. I could feel it. I needed a plan. But I was clueless myself.
I had an asshole friend. He is the guy who is never with a girl more than few months and then brags about all the action he gets to his guy friends. I hated that guy and only hung out because he was part of the larger circle in which I had some real good buddies. But he was also good at his work and had a demonstrated track record. Clearly, he knew something which I didn't and was struggling with. I saw him at the cafeteria sitting by himself and I thought I could take a chance at a conversation. After some pleasantries, I started probing him about his current flame and how it is going. Never to lose a chance to brag, he sets about doing the things I hated: brag about his sex life. But I had to get something out of him here. After beating around the bush and feigning my interest in his escapades I asked him the first of two things I wanted to learn. "When you know it is not going to last, what do you optimize for? Experience per session or the number of sessions you can have," I asked.
"Bro, you are a motherfucker! What a question that is!" He laughed loud and banged the table. "Man! Always, always get your experience in first. You don't know when and how it will stop." He laughed out again, cockily and jabbered out some more experiences. I was internally agitated but I had to sit through this.
"How do you get work done, man? You have all these girls time after time, don't you struggle to like, actually, sit down and get quality work done?"
He laughed out cockily again. His ego was flying through the roof with my questions. He was answering in a manner which most guys and women will understand, because you all know a guy like him and women have heard of a guy like him. He made fun of my dry single life and all that I am missing out by not being him. Then he uttered what I was looking for. "Why do I have to struggle? If I need something, I call for it. Do you get it? Ha ha, sorry you don't buddy"
So that was the advice, if you need something done, call for it to get done. Could this apply to Sud?
Conversations with Sud after the washroom fuck were very weird. We used to chat a lot before I went about fucking her in her house. Our whatsapp chats were about everything: work day, food, art, life everything. Now it was filled with where-are-you, you-there, and the like. It was a wasteland. If a third person looked at that history, they would conclude that we no longer were friends. I wanted to normalize it. But I couldn't bring myself to start a chat with her. I had no clue what to talk about now. Sud texted less as well. But she did. I just replied.
I struggled through a few more days of inaction. Then I decided to make an effort. I initiated a conversation.
Me: What's up?
Sud: Heyyyyy. Not much, just cleaning and usual mom stuff. What's up with you?
Me: Busy with work and PhD stuff.
I struggled through 20 mins of conversation. It was all normal text. It was hard for me to keep up with it. But I was making an effort.
If I need something, I call for it.
I called her in the midst of chatting. She was surprised. I have never called her.
Sud: Hi! You never call! What happened today?
Me: You are going for a drive with me in the evening, after dinner.
Sud: Oh no, not today, I have to finish up a piece that needs to be shipped tomorrow. I have to help with homework before that, you know mom stuff.
