The correspondence is between me and a lonely housewife in Calcutta, who has since become a very close friend.
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Darling Purvi,
I'm glad you liked my last letter so much. And yes, I would really like to party with you and Uday -- perhaps we should make it a foursome with Lali and maybe even Mona -- that would be quite memorable.
Since you have asked me for more, I thought it would be interesting to tell you about my first experiences with a woman -- the time I lost my virginity. That was when I first discovered how much fun sex could really be.
I was quite young at the time -- only 19. I had failed my board examinations and my parents decided to move me to another city, assuming (rightly so) that I had too many distractions at home and re-appearing for the exams in a totally different environment would be far more effective. If only they knew!
I was therefore sent to Bombay to stay with my uncle, my mother's older cousin. My uncle was one of the oldest members of the family, and had a thriving business in the export of machinery components. He had started from the ground up and worked his way to his present level of success by concentrating on business alone. It was not till he was approaching 50 that he finally agreed to get married and had subsequently married my aunt, who was considerably younger. It was an arranged match -- I had never met my aunt as my uncle rarely if ever attended the normal family functions, apparently finding it very difficult to get away from his business affairs.
It was a very comfortable arrangement for me. They lived in a large flat in a quiet suburb of Bombay and had few if any friends and visitors. I was given my own room and left pretty much to myself. My aunt Seema turned out to be a rather good-looking woman in her thirties and I remember thinking that my uncle seemed to have been pretty lucky in making the match. My uncle was out of the house most of the time, either at office or visiting his various suppliers scattered across Bombay or in neighboring Gujarat. My aunt spent most of her time in her rehearsal room -- she had been an award winning classical dancer before she married my uncle and she practiced for over five hours every day, using a set of recorded tapes so that she did not have to bother with hiring musicians.
Some time after I moved in, my aunt was asked if she would perform at a charity show organized by a well known cultural organization. She checked with my uncle and he finally agreed only because one of the chief organizers was a long time business acquaintance who personally requested him to give his permission.
Aunt Seema was quite transformed by the project. Live musicians were called in and the three weeks leading up to the event had her practicing up to seven hours a day. The house resounded to the thumps of the tabla and the musical notes of her belled anklets were everywhere. In fact, she took to wearing lighter anklets at all other times, so that the soft chime of bells always accompanied her wherever she went.
The day of the performance dawned. I was to go straight to the hall from my tuition classes and my uncle was to come straight in from office. I was there well in time and therefore was able to get a good seat right in front. I had no great interest in classical dance at the time, but had come simply out of family loyalty.
The program started a little behind schedule. Most of the dancers were quite good -- but my aunt amazed me. It was quite obvious that she was definitely in a class well above the others. She was dancing Odissi, a temple dance that is very sensuous and I was quite entranced. Suddenly the woman whom I had seen around the house, her long hair casually twisted into an oily bun, dressed in a caftan or a simple sari, was quite simply -- a goddess. Her elaborate jewelry shone in the stage lights. Her gold embroidered costume clung to her outlines, which were definitely voluptuous. Her hips swayed, her lovely bosom heaved. Her wide expressive eyes danced and her long and lovely fingers made beautiful patterns in the air. All too soon, the performance was over.
In the interval, an usher came to me with a note from my aunt. It said that my uncle had been unable to come to the performance, as he needed to fly to the US the same night on urgent business and had been held up at the office, awaiting his tickets and other papers. She added that she wished to return home immediately to see him off, so if I could meet her with a taxi at the stage door, we could leave without any delay.
I did as she asked and found her waiting. Not having had time to change, she had simply thrown a shawl around her elaborate costume. She said little as she stepped into the car, except to ask the driver to hurry. She seemed in no mood to make conversation and simply smiled when I complimented her on her incredible performance. I did not speak much after that -- the car was full of the heady scent of the flowers in her hair and the bouquet she had been presented. I was embarrassingly conscious of the close proximity of a very attractive woman. Her thigh had come to rest against mine when she got in and the bags she had placed on the other side prevented her from moving away -- not that I wanted her to move away.
My experience with girls at the time was incredibly limited. I had no sisters or close female friends and any romantic flings had been restricted to distant admiration of the prettier girls in college. As I had never been one for the party life, I had had little opportunity to meet many girls in a social way.
We were soon at the house and my aunt proceeded up the stairs while I paid off the cab. When I got in, I heard the sound of raised voices from my uncle's bedroom -- he was evidently packing for his trip. I could understand the reason for my aunt's poor mood -- she had been looking forward to this - her night of glory for which she had put in a considerable amount of effort -- and her husband had failed to show up! It did not help that my uncle was not in the least bit repentant -- the program had very low importance in his scheme of things and he could not see what the fuss was all about.
I went to my room and changed into a T-shirt and lungi, waiting for the house to quiet down so that I could masturbate a little. I was quite excited by the sight of my aunt and the other lovely girls I had been watching, and I thought that it would be nice to lie in bed and stroke myself for a while. I was not a habitual masturbator, but the excitement of the evening had left me with an uncomfortable erection and I was badly in need of some relief.
Soon, it was time for my uncle to leave. I joined them at the door, finding my aunt still in her costume. I could not help but notice the deep and mysterious valley of her cleavage, uncovered now and clearly visible above the tight silk of her blouse.
I went back to my room, very aware of the sensation of the cloth of the lungi moving across the circumcised head of my cock (I wore no underwear), maintaining my semi-erection. As soon as I had the door closed, I lay across the bed and gripped my now turgid tool in one hand. I had no intention to rub hard -- this was one cum I wanted to last.
I had just started by rubbing my thumb across the velvety head of my cock when there was a soft knock on the door and my aunt called out. I had to quickly wrap my lungi around my waist and open the door. I could only hope that she would not notice the obvious bulge at my crotch., where my erection was barely covered by the folds of cloth.
My aunt said that she was still keyed up from the show and planned to dance for a while in the rehearsal room to tire herself out. Since I had so enjoyed the earlier show, would I like to watch? I accepted immediately, reasoning that I could always resume my solitary pleasure a little later -- and it would be all the better if I had some fresh material for my fantasies!
