It appeared that we were drifting apart. Months had passed by. We had not met. Initially, I was very busy. But later, I was standing on ego and waiting for Tara to call.
While I knew that for some time Tara was out of town. But, I was pretty sure that she was back.
Why wasn't she calling?
I knew that she was nearly addicted to regular sex with me. I was worried whether she had found some better performer and she was getting her sexual satisfaction from him.
Thinking deeply, I realized that she was simply bored with the banal adult games followed by the even more boring fucking. I tease her. Or she teases me. Eventually, she opens her legs on her own or I tie her up and open her legs; I take my dick and shove it in. We move up and down. The dick goes in and out. And we come. Many times. We sleep.
While I have written many stories about what we have done together, many times I have never written what she looks like.
As any one may see from my biography, I am no spring chicken. The only thing I have done is to ensure that I have a very active sex life. After all, God made the system and permitted human beings to have sex with no season, time, space in mind, since He wanted human beings to know that sex was perhaps the real path to good health and enjoyment.
My dick. It is only eight inches long. Dark. (Since I am dark). My dick is fat. May be an inch and a half thick. But most importantly, I can carry on foreplay for hours without ejaculation and fuck for almost twenty minutes without premature ejaculation. That is why; I have played with Tara's sex machine for almost half a night and then fucked her after she has had many orgasms.
Tara. She has recently crossed 40. She is 5 feet and 4 inches tall. She is no longer thin like a waif. She has put on some weight. She is wheatish in color and has long hair, with no streaks of gray. She has a very good figure. Her hips are about 37 and her waist is 26. Her breasts. What do I say about them? They are very nice and juicy (like all Bengali girls do). Full. They are 36B. Tara's pussy. That is God's own wonder. It is truly tight. No matter how it is treated, it remains a wonder.
The most important thing is that Tara truly enjoys sex and has no inhibitions. Many girls have all the goodies, but they act like little Goddesses. Untouchable. Tara was human. All flesh and blood woman. Sexy. I have kept her completely naked in my house for a week. I have fucked her on the rooftop under the stars. I have fucked her on the balcony of the house. No matter how much of lack of (perceived) privacy has been there, she has enjoyed her dose of sex.
Whatever she wears, she looks good. In saree, she is like a Greek Goddess. Her thigh profile is visible from the side and her dripping sexiness excites many, I am sure. When she wears low slung jeans, about 6 inches below her navel and when her bottom swings in a tight movement, my dick starts to throb. With her skirt, she looks luscious. My imagination about what lay beneath that swirling skirt goes hay wire. Always alluring. Always a temptress.
What do I say, what she looks like, when she wears nothing!!
Yet, she does not fuck around. She is no tramp. She is no a nymphomaniac. She fucks only with me.
She never married. I offered marriage. But she refused saying that she would rather die fucking illicitly than live with boredom of certainty.
She believes that marriage spoils sex and thus relationships. I have no option, but to agree with her.
Tara is an amazing woman. Unfortunately, God does not make too many of them. I am lucky that God gave me Tara.
Once I asked her, "Why do you stick to me? Of all people? Surely there would be better fuckers."
She answered back with that calm look, "Ravi you fuck less than you give me orgasms. How many men care more about the woman they fuck than they care about their own ejaculation. When you fuck, you fuck for twenty minutes before your shoot your seed up my vagina. My friends tell me that their boy friends, husbands, who they have sex with normally can't hold their orgasm beyond three minutes. And many simply spoil the girls' clothes! You fuck atleast three times in one night. Very few other men have done that to any girl I know. You do not try to own me. You offer freedom. You are bold and imaginative."
I was very proud to hear that. But I am no God. I am no sex machine. I am no gigolo.
Naturally, when I think of taking her home for adult games, I tell myself, "She is not a sex machine. And I am not raping her. She must enjoy and bed for more. Again and again. Everyday."
So what should I do? With this long abstinence from her?
As a first step, I decided that I had to break the ice and follow it up with sex that she hadn't imagined existed after years of ceaseless fucking.
I picked up my mobile phone and called Tara.
It rang. She quickly picked it up and answered cheerily, "Hi lover boy. How are you?"
I said, "Fine. Where have you been?'
Tara answered with rapid-fire speed, "In Kolkata. Where have you been?"
I was zapped with her cheeriness and laughing way of talk.
I asked, "Are you free tonight?"
She had her repartee ready, "When did I charge you for my services? I am always free for you!"
I said, "What?"
Tara said, "You have lost all your sense of humor, it appears. You know I don't like men who don't know how to laugh."
I took some time and said, "I understand your pun. I was taken a back at the speed of your response."
Tara said, "Just hang on. Let me walk out of my seat and then talk to you, properly."
I could hear her walking through her office and coming into a quieter place. Than she said, "Yes. I can talk freely now."
I asked, "Are you free tonight? Can we meet?"
Tara said, "Tsk. Tsk. Why do you ask? Order me. I will leave everything and be there for you."
I said, "I want to let you know that I love . . ."
She butted in and said, "Please do not say that you have fallen in love with me. That takes all the secrecy, wantonness off our illicit love. What is the fun, if I am not afraid that some one would see me fuck and demand to get more of the same?'
Before I could say something, she added, "I love your ability to surprise me with how much my pussy can deliver to me. What you can do to make me get satisfied. I love the way you fuck. I love your taking complete control over me."
When she stopped, I said, "I am coming over right now to pick you up and bring me to my house. I dick is dying to slide into your pussy and enjoy."
Tara gasped and said, "Now?? It is only 3 PM. I have a lot of work on my desk. And God. You are direct!!"
I stopped her and said, "If you don't come out now, I will never call you again. As such you have not called me for months asking to be fucked. And now you are giving me excuses."
"Okay. I will wait near my office gate in about ten minutes."
I could feel blood rushing towards my crotch. The slight throbbing in my dick told me that it was expecting some real action. Soon. And wanted it to!!
I ran down my office steps and jumped into my car and rushed to her office. She was standing at the doorway of her office. As my car came near, she moved forward in the bright summer sun and hopped into my car.
I said, "Hi. All set?"
Tara got the seat belt in position and sat back to relax.
I said, "Okay. Are you ready for what follows?"
Tara boldly said, "I am always ready for any thing you throw at me."
I kept quiet for a few minutes. Tara was a little surprised by my silence.
She got inquisitive, and asked, "So what is your plan for today?"
"Not too much."
Tara asked, "What?"
I answered, "I am a little peeved at your keeping away from for such along time. You have no consideration for me or my feelings."
Tara answered quickly, "And you? What did you do? You kept away from me!! I have more to complain about your behavior."
I asked acidly, "You missed me? Or were you enjoying with some one else!!"
Tara's eyes welled up and she said, "I hate that statement. We are not married. You are not bound to stick to me only. Yet you do. If you have a go with other women, it is with my knowledge or with me included. I really enjoy your, err, fucking me. I detest your telling me that."
I kept quiet and continued driving, concentrating on the traffic.
Tara sensed that I was perhaps even more peeved and said, "I will make up to you."
She kept quiet as I drove. I was uneasy with that attitude. Normally she is bubbly, bordering on risquΓ©.
Tara contemplated all through the drive. Only once during the drive she turned towards me and asked, "Ravi. Why me?"
"I did not get you?"
She said, "You mean to say, all these months you waited for me? Why me?"
"Oh. The reason my dear is, that you are the sexiest woman I know. And then you are a girl from Bengal."
Tara asked, "What is so special about girls from Bengal?"
"Bengali girls are uninhibited. They are sexy. Unlike girls from the North of India, where they are fairer, have figures to kill for and they truly do themselves up, Bengali girls are themselves. They are un afraid of their sexuality. And you? You are the epitome of that creed. You CAN fuck. You fuck with no inhibitions. You experiment with your sexuality without promiscuity. There are lots of sexy Bengali girls, but there is only one Tara."
Tara looked at me with wondrous eyes. Her right arm extended across from her front left seat to my driver's seat and she caressed and patted my crotch and said, "Poor Ravi's dick. It missed Tara's pussy."
Soon we reached my home. She waited as I fished out my brief case, papers and my laptop and I locked the car.
We walked into the flat without a word. I unlocked the door and waived to her in chivalry. She stepped. I stepped in behind her.
I went straight in and switched on the air conditioners and asked her to relax while I got things in order.
She switched on the ceiling fan at full speed and plonked down on the large sofa.
I went into the room and went on thinking what I should do with Tara today.
I switched on the bathroom water heater and walked out with two cokes with lots of ice. I offered one to Tara.
Tara said, "Thanks. I needed it. It is really hot today."
We sat near each other and sipped in the cool drink.
When Tara finished her drink, she kicked off her slippers and placed her feet on the cool marble floor. She got up and walked around the drawing room slowly.
I popped the question, "So what would you like to do? Comparative studies of my fucking vis-Γ -vis his fucking?"