This is my first attempt to write an erotica, so your feedback will be greatly appreciated. All characters in this story are fictional and above the age of 18.
Thanks to PrabhatNaked for taking time to edit my story.
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Sagarika's Introduction
Sometimes when I look back at the recent months and weeks of my life, I startle at how it changed so dramatically and so quickly. I get a sense of both disbelief and thrill to recall how a series of seemingly innocuous events led to a tremendously liberating journey - sexually as well as emotionally. But to sincerely describe that remarkable journey, I must start from the beginning - from the very beginning.
I was born in the Indian metropolis of Kolkata, in to a wealthy family, and to an educated, socially well respected parents. Later, they told me how happy they were to finally have a girl child. Well, their happiness certainly didn't translate into pampering as far as I can remember; perhaps a tribute to my level-headed parents.
I went to a reputed private school, became friends with other rich kids. Though I never achieved outstanding grades in school, I really don't recollect my parents were ever concerned about my academic performance. I never had a lot of friends, but I was happy with the ones that I had.
I loved my brothers but as I was growing up they gradually assumed the role of a 'counsellor' rather than that of a 'confidant'. But that was possibly not surprising as I was 7 years younger than my elder twin brothers.
My love life during the high school days was limited to a few rare heartbreaks resulting from discovering my teenage crush was going out with other girls. Back in those days, it was neither easy nor indeed common for an Indian teenage girl to sleep around; and I was even more timid than the average teenage girls of our time, as far as sexual adventures are concerned. I didn't even learn to masturbate until I was 16!
I duly fulfilled my parents' aspirations of their child completing higher education and following their footsteps. I was not sure though whether they would appreciate it when I fell in love with my classmate while doing my Masters'. But I was 23 by then and per the prevailing social customs, my parents were looking for a suitable groom for me anyway. They didn't grumble when they found my boyfriend comes from a very affluent family and aspires to be a renowned economist. With the financial support of his parents, getting married early was hardly a career-limiting move for my boyfriend. So I got married at 23 and by then I had realised that academia was not for me.
I was really excited as a newlywed bride, living with my husband in a big house served by maids and cooks. Not many newly married couples from Kolkata could afford their own place back in those days - it was certainly a privilege. Our sex life was pretty active; or so I believed until I embarked on a sexually liberating journey many years later in my life. I was still doing my Masters' when I became pregnant and I gave birth to our beautiful daughter shortly after completing my degree. I was 24.
I decided to forego my career and instead become a homemaker and support my husband's budding career as an economist. I might have felt a little blue in my subconscious initially when my husband was not particularly forceful in trying to change my mind. But largely, I was content playing the supporting wife and watching our beautiful daughter bloom in front of my eyes.
Life moved on and the years went by without throwing any big surprises at us. Sumita, our daughter, was now 17, in her final year of school. Her father was visiting Chicago University to present his recently published paper. Our phone rang very early in the morning in Kolkata and delivered the terrible news that my husband had suffered a massive heart attack the previous night and was declared dead when he was rushed to the nearest hospital. Out of the blue, my world was shattered in an instant. Just like that - no forewarning, nothing.
To my surprise, however, the feeling inside me was one of numbness rather than a deep sorrow. I was completely at a loss. My parents, brothers and in-laws all showed compassion and offered to help but I found it terribly hard to look forward to life, to gather myself and go again. The sudden death of her father and seeing her mother constantly depressed and numb had an awful impact on Sumita. The problem was that both Sumita and I were heavily dependent on my late husband for emotional guidance and support and now we both had lost it.
A few months after that dreadful morning, I began to realise that I could not afford to fall to pieces. That I had to be strong and stand on my feet for Sumita if not for anything else. But staying at home all day - the place was immersed with memories of my late husband - I found it impossible to come out of my depression. I recognised that that I need a reason to venture into the outside world and keep myself busy. I needed to find work.
I had my History degree and my grades were consistently good but I didn't have any experience. I needed a favour in order to land a job. Fortunately, most of my family were in academia and my brothers managed to pull a few strings to get me into a newly opened private college as assistant professor.
Things started to settle down slowly as Sumita and I began a new phase of our lives. She did very well in her school final exam. With her marks, she was certain to get into most of the top universities in India. Although I always wanted Sumita to avail the best possible option for her higher study, secretly I was hoping that she would choose a university close to our home. I was not ready to live on my own, not yet. Luck smiled at me for once as Sumita stayed home and pursued her bachelor's in History following the footsteps of her mother.
For the next three and half years, I devoted myself to work and supporting Sumita. Everything was getting back to 'normal'.
I met Arindam a couple of years later.
Arindam's version
Our History Professor, Sagarika Sen, was an extra ordinary woman. There was something enigmatic about her and that drew me towards her virtually from the very moment I saw her for the first time. She was quite unusually tall for an Indian woman and extremely voluptuous. But despite having some extra flesh on her, Prof. Sen's physique never looked disproportionate - remarkably big structured for an Indian woman, yes, but still full of magical symmetry.
Despite her imposing figure, Prof. Sen always looked very elegant in all her postures. Watching her effortlessly glide on the elevated platform in front of the black board - always neatly draped in her expensive and tasteful sarees and accompanied by equally tasteful full sleeve blouses - it was almost impossible not to mentally undress her. Whenever Prof. Sen turned her back towards the classroom to write something on the black board, the subtle wobble of her Rubensesque, buxom buttocks would invariably drag me into a naughty daydream; and I am sure I wasn't the only one in my class having such intimate thoughts. Yet there was an aura and a reserved firmness about her personality that often impeded my sexual thoughts and forced me to look at her with respect instead.
I was never keen on so called sophisticated women hailing from so called elite class of the society. Whatever little interaction I had with them during my life, such sophistication seemed like an artificially created mask that fell away when circumstances challenged it. But in case of Prof. Sen, I felt that her sophisticated manners were ingrained in her personality; it felt authentic and added to her aura.
She was a good teacher too. I would have attended her lectures even if she looked like blobfish. But her stunning appearance meant I would go extra miles to make sure I am prepared for her lectures; hoping to impress her in an impromptu QA session - impress her in any way possible really. I always tried my best with the assignments, submitted them on time, participated in class discussions. I could not be sure but I felt I was on her good books. But I never had any opportunity to have amy one to one interaction with her - not until the classes resumed after the winter break.
That day, I was about to leave the classroom at the end of the lecture when Prof. Sen spoke to me while gathering her papers from the table in front of her.
"Arindam, can you wait for a minute please?"
