As the new year began, Priya and I started to hang out at work as well. She found herself becoming increasingly familiar with the office building layout. I worked on the 11th floor of the east wing, while Priya worked on the 3rd floor of the west wing. Our secret meets during work hours took place in various office pantries on different floors, and sometimes even in different sections of the building.
Initially, I was unaware that these meets were intended to be kept a secret. It gradually dawned on me that Priya may have been carefully selecting the farthest pantry from her workplace to avoid being seen with me. I couldn't help but admire her resourcefulness. She was meticulous with her approach. Was Priya truly a brilliant mastermind, or was she simply trying to keep our rendezvous discreet?
As I pondered the potential reasons for our meets being secretive, my thoughts questioned my appearance. Was I so ugly that Priya felt the need to avoid being seen with me? I laughed and quickly dismissed the idea, realizing that now was not the time to beat up my self-esteem.
The most obvious explanation for our secretive meetings soon became apparent to me: Priya was married and did not want to be seen with me. Simple. This realization was quickly followed by another thought. I was now the "other guy," the one who was starting a secret affair with a married woman.
Despite the moral dilemma that this presented, I remained unmoved and failed to examine my own ethical or moral stance on the matter. Horniness prevailed!
As our conversations intensified, we went from talking about our sexual desires to coming up with a concrete plan to bring those fantasies to life. With a growing sense of anticipation, we discussed the various actions and scenarios that would fulfill our deepest darkest desires, exploring every possibility in graphic detail.
Our excitement grew each day as we contemplated the carnal pleasures that awaited us. Or rather Priya was the one coming up with all the execution plans and I just nodded my head in agreement.
On the subject of sharing our fantasies with each other, one evening during our phone conversation, we landed on the topic of attire.
"What gets you going? How do you like your gift wrapped?" Priya asked amusingly.
"Gift wrap?" I questioned innocently.
Priya explained "What would you like to see me in?" with satire in her tone.
I immediately yelled "Saree!" as if I were trying to win a million dollars by giving the correct response to a question. "Particularly a South Indian saree with all the bling", I added.
"Really? Oh, my god?" Priya burst into laughter and asked, "So typical! Was your childhood filled with aunties in Sarees?".
Me: I sheepishly said "Yes".
Priya: "That explains a lot!" as she continued laughing.
Priya: "What else? What else makes your tiny soldier stand up and salute?"
Me: "Tiny? It's big! And in your tiny hands my cock will look like a python" I jokingly rebutted.
Priya: "Ahaa good one!" agreeing to that.
Priya asked me again laughing "What else? What other childhood memory of yours has turned into a fetish?"
I thought for a second and said "Boob milk"
Priya clarified "As in, breast milk? As in, lactation?", I said "Yes"
Priya: "Please elaborate my dear sire!" said mockingly
With a giggle, I said, "I want to drink boobie milk directly from the source or maybe fuck when drinking boobie milk directly from the source".
Priya: "Okay, that is definitely interesting! Unfortunately, I shall not be able to fulfill that. Lactation happens post-pregnancy generally and the medication used to induce lactation has a lot of other sides that I cannot deal with. Fucks with your hormones a lot. So no go boss!"
And I replied with a confused "Okaay". Wait! Was she enquiring about my fetishes to list them, tick them off one by one from the list? What was happening?
Our conversation touched a few other fetishes of mine. But Priya had not made her fetishes clear. When Priya's turn came to share her dark desires, she just gave me really mundane ones which honestly sounded like default answers. I was determined to chase her fetishes. If this lady was going to go after my desires, it's only fair that I go after hers.
Anyways, the moral of the story was that I was able to overcome my insecurities and share my deepest, darkest desire with Priya in a way that made her laugh without judging me, and it was a liberating experience.