I imagined climbing on top of him and riding his cock, hammering away to my pleasure. I took a cold water bath in the middle of the night, as I was not able to overcome this lust. I had never thought about any male like this in my life.The next day, I took great care in cleaning my body. I wore the best saree I had. I applied shimmer and wore lots of bangles. I looked at myself in the mirror and gave a cute smile. I went into a very beautiful state of happiness. It was like a feeling of first love. I just wanted to be close to this man, who had portrayed my body so beautifully.That day, he made true love to me. That day, I will never forget. That day, I was made to feel so special. That day, I wanted to become his wife. Forever!I rang the doorbell. Perhaps, he was expecting me. He was dressed in white kurta. He smiled and welcomed me. I asked him, “Babuji, chai bana dun.”“Haan. Chai piyenge, Suhasini.” It was the first time he called me by name. I giggled and walked to the kitchen.. She looked at our interlaced hands, lifted them up, inspected them as if they bore some secret message and, with a great sigh, let them settle on the sheets once more, our contact unbroken.Despite of all warnings received, my great fear of failure and my inherent reluctance to share my innermost feelings, I told her something of myself. I spoke of my very early awareness of the opposite gender, of being in really deep – platonic – love for the first and only time in my life, long before I even reached puberty. I spoke of the difference between 'pure' love and 'normal' love, the first encountered rather seldom, the second more often defined by instant lust rather than lasting emotions. And I spoke of the disillusionment of my formative years, when once I had to enter a toilet, right after a young woman of exceptional beauty and refined bearing had used it. The stench was quite horrible. That was it for me, for a very long time. I could not reconcile the physical with the spiritual..
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