This is a fictionalised account of events that actually took place. There are Indian men who think of their women as husband-worshipping zombies. Indian women are undoubtedly devoted wives but they are also a vibrant lot with wild and varied emotions sloshing within them. It is up to the men to make the best of a good bargain.
"I suspect I am a troilist," said my husband Thiagu.
"What do you collect," I asked. Philatelists collect stamps, Numismatics collect coins. I assumed that my husband collected something. If it had been soda bottle caps I would not be surprised. He tended to the bizarre.
"You have to find out. Troilism is the word." Some days later when I was in a mood to find out I could not recollect the word. I left it at that
We are married for six years. He has been a good husband. I did not find it difficult to deal with his occasional eccentricities. For example two years ago he suddenly decided to become a vegan. Vegans shun all animal products in their diets included milk. He did not ask me to join him. It was not easy to feed him during this phase. I did my best but his health suffered. He had to give it up. Any vegan who gives up is likely to become a vegetarian, but not my husband. He went in for all out meat eating. Fortunately Chennai does not offer deep fried locusts or else he would have taken to insect eating too. That is his style.
A month later he asked me if I had looked up troilism is Wikipedia. I told him I forgot the word. He wrote it down on a piece of paper and gave it to me. Later I checked. This is what Wikipedia had say about troilism:
'Refers to the erotic interest in watching one's romantic partner engage in sexual behaviour with a third party. A common example is a husband watching his wife have intercourse with another man.'
My reaction was one of amusement. I chuckled. After dinner Thiagu was reading the newspaper when I sidled to a seat next to him on the sofa. He moved to make room for me. I moved closer. He turned and smiled. I smiled. He must have read something in my body language.
"What's up Gopika," he said.
"Have you chosen the man?"
"What man?" He was pretending. He knew what I was talking about.
"The man you have chosen for me. Wikipedia, and other sites, are silent on that aspect of troilist culture. Does the man choose or the woman?" He smiled sheepishly. "You have to answer this particular question," I persisted.
"The woman has the final say," he said. He was smiling broadly. "Someone not know before and not to be seen after."
"Hit and run?"
"You have phrased it neatly," he said.
"We may meet again by chance."
"One in a million if it happens in a strange city."
"Can you name the city you have in mind?"
"Bangkok." So that was why he has been planning a visit to that sex city.
"So I hold a placard in a Bangkok street corner and stand waiting for the man."
"Bangkok hotels provide masseurs for just this purpose."
"You mean Bangkok hosts troilist conventions?"
"No conventions. Regular visitors. I believe troilism is very common."
"So this Thai man will be having sex with me and you will be sitting there watching. Is that the idea?" Put that was it was somewhat harsh.
"Sorry Gopika," he said. His voice was tremulous. "I unsay everything I said. It was not my intention to hurt you in anyway."
We hugged and we kissed. His hands went to my blouse and bra. Soon he was kneading my breasts, and then he was sucking. Suddenly I was hot too. My nipples started tingling. My nipples become extraordinarily sensitive when I am hot. He plucked at them with his lips used just that pressure to make me moan. And then it was the turn of my clitoris to tingle. I pulled up my sari and pushed his head down. My feet were up in the air. He cleaned up my vulval secretions like a cat and then he held the clitoris with his lips played on it with his tongue till I was vibrating; and then he swiped. I tumbled down the waterfall. I lay on the carpet and he was on top and we had orgasms at the same time. I screamed. I always scream, softly though, when I climax.
It was at that moment that I became a troilist sympathiser.
2
The flight from Delhi to Bangkok was a night time flight set to land at daybreak in Bangkok. They served dinner as soon as possible and then put off the lights for passengers to try and compose themselves for sleep. The plane had two rows of three to a line seats with the aisle in between. We were at the very tail end of the aircraft. Our third seat was vacant. A young couple occupied the seats across the aisle, possibly honeymooners, but not straight from the wedding dinner for the girl's palms were free of mehendi. Their third seat was vacant too.
Thiagu sat with his back resting on the side of the aircraft. He pulled me up so that I she can rest my back on his chest. I drew my legs up on the seat and we were as comfortable as possible on aircraft seats. I covered myself and Thiagu with the thin blanket airlines provide. The three hour flight from Chennai to Delhi earlier that day, and the time we spent roaming round the capital made me tired. I was ready for a snooze, but my husband had other ideas.
His hands came around and cupped my breasts under the blanket. I turned my head to smile but he misunderstood and bent forwards to kiss me on the lips. I darted a glance at the couple. They were watching; there was light enough for me to see that they were sniggering. Such was my mood that I did not mind it one bit. Meanwhile Thiagu was busy unhooking my blouse.
"What's the matter with you," I said.
"The blanket is covering you," he said. He then undid my bra clasps and his hands were soon on my bare breasts. It was delicious. The time and the place and the eager spectators made it special.
"Snooze," he said.
"As if I can," I replied. I drew the blanket further up and twisted it round my neck for added security. The couple opposite were darting glances at us. They did not seem to show any desire to imitate us. Soon I could feel the blanket slipping off my shoulders. Strangely it did not seem to matter anymore. It came off but rested over my breasts still preserving my modesty, and then it fell off to my lap. I sat there with breasts exposed with my husband's hands kneading them. In the dim light I could see the couple opposite watching intently. It was thrilling.
My labia were wet with secretions pouring out of my vaginal glands. My clitoris had started tingling. I did my best to restrain myself but I was finding it difficult to prevent myself from pulling up my sari. It was up to my knees. I reached for his hand and brought it forward and placed it on my vulva. I could feel his penis digging into my back. His soft hands gently teased my clitoris. Soon my feet were up. I did not care who saw me. In fact I liked the couple to see me with my vulva spread out and with my husband's hands on it gently rubbing and playing. The couple were no longer darting glances. They sat there fully focused like grandmasters at the chess board..
"Thiagu darling lick me," I said. He got up. I moved resting my back on the side wall. Thiagu crouched in the space in front of the seat. I positioned myself and he set about his task earnestly. I was bold and lusty. I looked at the couple and smiled not knowing if in the dim light they could see me. They could, for they smiled back. The girl's smile of embarrassment was not quite in concordance with the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. Soon I saw nothing though my eyes were open. I was vibrating and when he swiped I cascaded down. It was with great effort that I suppressed my moans.
"I want it all," I whispered. I wondered if he had space for it. The saying 'if you have the will you will find the way' found its best application. He found a way. He managed to insert up to the hilt. He ejaculated and I did have an orgasm. He pulled up his trousers and I pulled down my sari and we reclined in a tight embrace.
It was at that moment that I became a dedicated troilist.
The lights coming on woke us up. I went to the rest room. There were three of us waiting. The girl of the opposite seat was the one in front of me. Our eyes met. She was not sure if she should smile. I had no such problem. I smiled and she smiled back.
"Liked it?" I asked. I was bold and I was without shame.
"Very much," she said.
"I thought you would follow suit."
"My husband wanted but I was not daring enough."
"This was guilt edged chance," I said, "You may not get another."
"The exact words my husband used."
"Wish you would on the return flight," I said.
"Thanks," she said.
I was her turn to go. "Your needs are greater," she said with a wink and chuckled.
"Thanks for the offer," I said, "but you please go."
She was out very quickly. She gave me a broad smile and a hug.
"Thank you. It is unforgettable," she said.
"Thanks," I said.
Bangkok splashed a welcome on the screen.
'Bangkok, her I come,' I said but to myself. I was in a mood for adventure.
3
Thiagu went for his bath. I unpacked and arranged some dresses in the wardrobe. The fever of the flight was still raging. I do not how my husband found out he was a troilist, but this flight adventure proved to me beyond doubt that I was an exhibitionist. I undressed deliberately to nudity. I stood at the mirror doing up my hair. From where I stood those in the room opposite could see me.
There was a tap at the door.
"Come in," I said overcoming the reflex to cover myself. The door opened and a hotel employee in uniform stood at the door. He was a little below medium height, but handsome.
"Come in," I said again with a smile to reassure him that I was fully aware that I had no clothes on. He was seeing me side on. I turned round to face him.
"I have come to change the water," he said in his heavily accented English. .
"Go ahead," I said. He removed the big bottle that was half empty, took it out and brought in a full bottle and inverted it in on the contrivance. The hotels in sex city train their employees well. He went about his job as if being in a room with a naked young woman was an everyday occurrence for him. It probably was. The surprise is that I was also very casual about it. Anyway that was my perception.
"What is breakfast time?" I asked. I was in a mood to keep him for a while. I continued to comb my hair but I sat on a sofa and placed my legs on the table in front and spread out my thighs a little.
"Seven to ten madam."
