Consultants arrived by the plane load; they were here to fix America’s Y2K bug. During the day, the women were my colleagues at work. At night, it was me, Kabir, showing them their way around the Big Apple. Most came from conservative backgrounds and had chosen to keep their lives in America that way. A few freed from the watchful gaze of Indian tradition were willing to explore all things. No strings attached relationships included.
The Nokia lit up again. It was Sudha.
“You’ve not been returning my calls or answering my messages.” She sounded irritated and anxious.
“I have been keeping long hours at work.”
“Why didn’t you return my calls?”
“I have been meaning to call you…”
“You’ve not been seeing anyone, I hope?”
“No!! Of course not.” I was emphatic as if to force a lid on my lies.
“You know I love you.” That truth was undeniable, but it seemed like my penis had a life of its own. I ended the conversation by making vague promises to be regular in my calls.
I sometimes spent evenings and weekends helping Isabella’s kids. Algebra, science, the library, and the fun stuff: skateboarding down Crescent Drive, hikes in Bear Mountain, trip to Bryant Park, and the Hudson Riverbank. I seemed to be living out my twelve-year-old self. The highlight was the kite flying.
The kites were not the cartoon-faced ones from Walmart, but the ones made using paper grocery bags, plastic tubing, twine, and duct tape. The strong winds from the Hudson made it both challenging and rewarding. I was encouraged when I saw the magical looks on John and Luke’s faces as their kites soared or when occasionally a kite cut free. “It’s gonna go right into the stratosphere!”
With Isabella, however, I was engaged in a game of strategic avoidance. Life was complicated enough. Despite feeling a strong sexual attraction, I drew an imaginary boundary of interaction, distinguishing between her and her kids. I avoided her gaze when there were chance encounters in the hallway. Conversations of necessity between us were reduced to monosyllables. Isabella reacted awkwardly. Her smiles would bleed into a snarl, and she would stare blankly at me. Her body, however, seemed attuned to my presence. There were long gazes, furtive glances, and nervous energy of excitement. I engaged in feigned disinterest.
Several weeks went by. On a Tuesday evening, I had just returned from work. There was a knocking at the door. I opened the door to find a distressed Luke.
“Luke, is there a problem?”
“Mom is hurt. You need to help her.” He grabbed my hand and led me downstairs.
I entered a large kitchen to be greeted by a minor cooking accident. A turned-over saucepan lay on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a large water spill. Isabella was seated on a white dining chair with her head cradled in her hands, elbows resting on a solid wood pedestal table. She turned towards me. I caught the whiff of that sweet perfume as I approached.
I did a quick visual inspection of Isabella’s arms. There were no visible scald marks on her hands, but Isabella held her face in a grimace suggesting some pain. I turned to the kids, “Your mother is going to be okay. We expect a thunderstorm, so go to your friend Ed’s place while I attend to her. I will call you if I might need help.”
They seemed reassured and closed the kitchen door behind them. I cleaned the spill and returned to Isabella’s side with a large bowl of cold water. She looked beautiful in her plain white skirt and blouse, and I sensed an immediate attraction. I sat beside her and put her hands in the bowl. She looked visibly relieved.
“What happened? Do you want to talk?” I inquired.
She shifted the conversation away from the accident. “Thanks for watching out for my boys. You are the nicest person ever.”
She shared a bit of her story. It read like Tom Petty’s song, “American Girl,” which was raised on promises. Isabella got pregnant and was abandoned by her boyfriend at age eighteen. Her brief relationship had yielded John, who was now twelve. Love came visiting again a few years later. This time there was a marriage that lasted a few years. Her husband had some success as a mechanic but fell on the wrong side of the law and ended up in jail. She was now forsaken with her second child Luke who had turned eight. She fell to her family and the state for help. Lest I felt sorry for her situation, she interrupted my thoughts.
“I am a mom of two beautiful boys. They look like their dads; hopefully, they won’t act like them. Or me.”
“They are good kids.” I tried to reassure her.
I led her to the sink, ran the cold-water tap, and guided her limp hand under the stream. I locked the kitchen door and returned to Isabella. Isabella’s hand was now not under the faucet. So, I gently guided her hand under the running water, standing beside her. “Isabella, you must let the water run down your hand.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Isabella said. “You know I’ll do anything you say.”
“Was this all a ruse to get me to come down?”
“I’m sorry,” she said insincerely.
“You know you’re not.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not. Why should I be?”
“Then why say it?”
“I’m only sorry if you don’t like me.”
Now it was my turn to confess. “It’s not that. I merely wished…wished to prove to you and myself that I was not overwhelmed by my desires. It appears I have failed on both counts.”
“You are so different from anyone I know. But then I began to like everything about you. Your nose, the way you took the stairs, and that beautiful smile. I finally melted when I first saw you care for my boys.” She pressed on. “I could tell from your look that you wanted me. But I didn’t know how to get you to visit me.” Her directness left me speechless.
From where I stood, I could see her milky white breasts through the V of her blouse. She was not wearing a bra. I abandoned all pretensions. I repositioned myself behind her, and my hands moved from her hand to her waist. I am six feet tall, so I seemed to enclose her in my frame. I pressed her against the sink with my whole body. My desire had developed a growing bulge which I pressed against the cleft of her bottom.
She sighed softly. The water continued to run in the sink. Dusk was settling in, and the trees were taking on the orange glow of the setting sun. I could hear the distant roll of thunder. “I needed this,” she said.
I worked her neck and shoulders with clumsy kisses. Her moans invited me to extend my attention to her right ear. First breathing into it and then biting on her earlobe. She startled a bit but groaned in encouragement. The bell-shaped tits called for my attention. There were a few awkward moments as I unbuttoned her blouse to her navel. I nervously slipped in my right hand and cupped her left breast. I glanced at her and saw that the light played the angles of her face like a beautiful violin. Beauty danced on her jawline, the crescendo of her cheekbones, and her emerald green eyes. Her pale cheeks had taken on a gentle flush.
I began kneading, first her left breast and then, having worked my left hand into her blouse, worked the right breast. I cupped her breasts and held them to feel their weight and abundance. I gave them a jiggle, and we both laughed as they bounced.
With her moans as encouragement, I slipped my hands into her skirt; and then her panties. She wiggled to make access easier. I extended my trembling fingers towards Isabella’s cunt, running my digits through the soft curls of pubic hair. I parted her labia with my fingers. It was inviting, but I didn’t want to cross that line yet. I let my index finger trace her labial lips to the soft rhythm of her undulations.
The slow build-up of energy seemed too much for her to bear. She pushed back against me, turned around, and faced me. That was all needed to unleash the randy vixen that dwelt inside Isabella Rossi. She began with a light introductory kiss, pulled back for just a moment, looked hungrily into my eyes, then put her mouth over mine and shoved her tongue down my throat. Isabella was all over me, ravenously kissing and caressing me and rubbing her breasts against my chest. As she broke off the kiss, she stared fiercely into my eyes. “Have you been with a real woman?” she paused, awaiting my response.
I was no newbie, but I had still a lot to learn. I shook my head in a gesture of no.
She gave me a wicked smile. “I will teach you what that fucking feels like.”
This is your tantric initiation. I thought to myself as I nervously smiled back.
The distant rumble of thunder caught my attention. Isabella began unbuttoning my jeans and tugging them down to my knees. My erection pressed against my boxers. She raised an eyebrow approvingly as her hands hooked my member over the waistband. My cock sprang free, and Isabella looked down at it with anticipation and curiosity as her right hand wrapped around its length.
For a moment, all differences in race, class, and gender got exaggerated, which further ignited the fire of my desire. The increase in my blood flow engorged the veins and raised the strength of the erection. My brown cock seemed perfectly nestled in her pale white hand. “This cock is mine,” she said possessively, toying with its length.
I worked the remaining buttons of her blouse and tossed it behind me. She seemed surprised when I gripped her under her arms and sat her on the countertop. Pressing down with her hands, she lifted her hips, letting me slide her panties down her legs and off her feet. Casting her panties to the side, I lifted her blouse. I pushed my right hand between her legs to caress her labia, which parted freely. I began to insert my finger into her vagina, but she shook her head, squeezed her thighs against my hand to stop me, and pulled away from the kiss. I was confused. But I caught her flushed face in the fading light, and it seemed to shout. Please take me.
A bolt of lightning was followed by the continuous rumble of thunder. For a flash, the leaves took a hue of lurid green. A condom mysteriously appeared. I pulled Isabella gently towards me as if to shelter her from the elements. She wrapped her legs around my butt and leaned back on the countertop, using her hands as support. I took hold of my shaft and leaned forward until it laid on her pelvis. I looked down at my dark length resting against the small bush of curly black hair.
“Kabir, I need you in me now.”
“Are you sure you want this?” I asked.
“Fucking yes,” she said, surprised at my question.
I pulled the condom, stepped closer, took hold of my cock, and angled it into her waiting pussy. Her hands returned to my neck, holding me tightly as my cockhead brushed past her folds. She sighed as I pushed inwards. It felt tight at the entrance, but once in, her pussy engulfed my cock in its warmth and moistness. She bucked her hips while sliding her bottom along the surface to be at the edge of the countertop. Her hands wandered up my back, and she squeezed it as I pushed deeper. “Slowly.”
She opened herself out by spreading her legs as if inviting me to begin gently pushing again. I felt the inner walls parting as I moved into her. I stopped. We both held still. I was taking in the moment as my body adapted to hers and hers to mine. Then I was pushing forward again, and she sighed in contentment at the feeling of me slowly spreading her out again as I plunged back in. Every time my cock pulled out, I felt a tingling sensation. When I pushed forward again, that tingling intensified, and she squealed in satisfied pleasure. I stayed there wholly nestled in her for a few heartbeats. Her eyes met mine, and I held her gaze as I slowly pulled back. “Deeper Deeper, DEEPER! ”
I took that cue and alternated between shallow and deeper strokes, increasing the depth each time. Isabella opened her mouth to pant, and I took the opportunity to claim it with my own. I stayed still again; my cock entirely nestled inside her, and I savored the feeling of fullness and connection. I enjoyed taking my time with Isabella and watching her responses. She was panting as I kept up the slow in and out penetrations for a long time. As the minutes went by, the speed of Isabella’s breathing slowly increased, and she seemed to let the feelings wash over her. “Oh fuck” she whispered. “Just like that.”
I suddenly felt her inner muscles twitching; I slightly sped up my long strokes. Now it was my time to groan as I pushed back into her. Each slow stroke built pleasure in me. A shiver ran up my spine. Soon there was a very pleasant tingling at the root of my penis, and I felt the pressure of the fluids begin to build. I inhaled slowly to calm the excitement and squeezed my perineum a few times. That had the effect of easing the pressure and spreading the tingling to the entire pelvic region. I resumed with long strokes.
Isabella closed her eyes for a few minutes while I stroked her and then looked at me, holding my gaze. She seemed to be opening to me like a flower. I burrowed deeper, melting any resistance each time. I paused and exhaled deeply before pushing in further. My technique of delaying ejaculation had worked, but I didn’t know for how much longer. We stayed this way as I continued to stroke in and out of her wetness. “Don’t stop,” she responded as she felt me pause.
I continued over and over with long deep wet strokes. Isabella’s inner muscles went from twitching to pulsing and squeezing my cock. She buried her face in my collarbone and groaned against my hot flesh as her body clenched and writhed below me, spasming and clenching my cock. I rested my cock fully impaled inside her as I panted and tried to catch my breath. Sweat coasted down my chest and onto her stomach. I pulled out. “I think I need a time out,” I said as I looked down at my cock, which had gone limp.
The rain was pouring in torrents. I suggested we move our action to the pedestal table. As we stepped over, I kicked my pants the rest of the way off. She shimmied to help me remove her skirt, and I dropped it on the floor. I cradled her face, leaned in to kiss her again, and eased her backward onto the table. Once she was on her back, I let go of her and straightened up. I pulled off my shirt and threw it behind me.
With my right hand, I worked my way up her stomach. She pressed her chest against my hand as I inched towards her left breast and gently squeezed the soft mound. My tongue traveled down her neck until it reached the rise of her right breast. I let it circle her areola several times, coaxing goosebumps on her skin. Her nipples emerged full and taut. They rose even further in the cold air and stood erect on her now fully engorged breasts.
I blew gently against each one before finally placing my lips around her right breast, drawing it firmly into my mouth. She squirmed. I felt her nipple harden in my mouth as I sucked on it. I flicked them firmly with my tongue. My hand was occupied with her other breast, rolling and tugging her left nipple between my fingers. She arched her body towards me, letting out little purrs. I bit it, making her cry out loud from the pain. I let go with a snap and moved to her left tit; my mouth took over from my fingers sucked harder and more forcefully this time. Her breathing became louder and heavier. I stepped back to let her savor the moment. “You make me feel amazing, baby.”
Isabella then moved her hands to her left breast and softly rubbed and massaged it. It was my turn to watch her. She then moved her hands up to her right breast squeezing them first softly and then harder. She then quickly let them go. Her breath was short, and she began biting her lip. She moved her fingers along her breast down to her tit. She gently teased her nipple. I enjoyed watching Isabella pleasure herself, reach for my cock, and begin stroking it. Her eyes closed as she took her tit between her thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze more. She held her breath and tugged at them. She let out a loud groan. After a moment, she let go of her tits. My member was ready for action again.
She must have felt my tip pressed against her pussy, and she signaled her readiness by lifting her legs in the air and pointing her feet toward the ceiling. Using Isabella’s leg as leverage, I applied gentle pressure, inhaled sharply, and entered her. I paused for a second or two, then kept pressing. Her head was back against the table, and her eyes were closed. She winced as my tip pressed against the innermost wall. I felt it too and stopped. Again, I shifted backward, and all I could feel was an aching vacuity left behind. An emptiness I quickly filled. The soft squishes from my penis pushed out the air in her vagina. I pushed in again and sighed. “I think I’m in love with your dick.” She said as her muscles contracted around my cock.
I kept my gentle pace of probing, causing her pussy to become tighter. She began stroking the skin of her stomach, pulling at it as I felt her tension build. I held Isabella’s legs up and leaned into her, pushing in as far as I could and then pulling out and pushing back in. The latex sleeve gleamed with her juices. I felt her insides contract hard several times, and she sighed deeply. “Please, please, please, pleeaaaasssseee….”
She arched her back as the climax rolled over her, and I felt her fingers as they dug into my back. I placed my hands on Isabella’s hips and eased forward slowly in one long push. I felt my balls slapping her ass cheeks. I pulled back, and I felt her body clench against me. I kept watching as her pussy gave way to me with every thrust. Isabella had started to squeeze her breasts hard now. I kept up a gentle pace as I pressed into her. Isabella bit her lip and pushed her hips up a few times to match my movements. I eased back from her depths slightly. I adjusted myself grabbed her legs and placed each of her feet over my shoulders. I pounded in and out of her with more speed. I continued this pace for a while as I watched Isabella absorbed in the sensation. She grabbed the table’s edge as if in anticipation of the action. “Faster!”
I pulled her legs tighter to my body to penetrate fully with each stroke. Her pussy was wet and gripped me. Isabella tried to buck her hips as best she could to meet each of my strokes. I sped up and speared deeper. A few minutes went by, and I could feel the pulses begin to move through her pussy, slowly beginning to clamp down on my shaft. It was as if her vagina was ready to push me out. She wrapped her legs and arms around me and pulled me close. We pressed chest-to-chest as I tunneled into her again for the last time. “Oh yes, that’s it!”
I pulled out as a shiver rippled through me. I removed the condom. It only took a few strokes from my hand before my body spasmed, and the first large rope of cum lanced towards Isabella’s stomach, just below her belly button. Isabella remained motionless with her eyes closed and panting softly. The second shot was more of a dribble on her pubic hair. Isabella was breathing deeply, and I watched as the cum glistened on her stomach with the undulations of her breath. A tiger had marked its territory.
I sampled a small load of cum in my index finger and eased it into Isabella’s mouth. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth opened to my finger. The wetness might have been unexpected, and she half opened her eyes. She smiled at the taste. It was the labor of our love. I scooped up a little more and directed it at her open mouth. She stuck out her tongue as I dripped my jizz onto it. She slowly swirled it around as if savoring the taste and swallowed.
There was the sound of a door being closed. I stole a glance outside, and it was dark, and the rain had softened to a drizzle. The children were back. I reached for a kitchen towel and wet it to clean us both up. Our clothes were on the floor. I handed Isabella her skirt and blouse, but I seemed to hesitate to return her panties. They were plain white cotton knickers with a few dainty roses embroidered on the front. I saw that it had a few stains around the crotch. I picked it up. It was damp on the touch. I pressed the crotch against my nose and inhaled as Isabella watched with a mischievous smile. There was that musky moist, and pungent smell. She gestured to indicate that I could keep it—my memento for that evening. We dressed. She kissed me deeply and wrapped her arms around me again. It was a deep and long hug, and I waited till I felt the pressure ease.
Isabella winked. “Now, it’s your turn to teach me.”
“Not quite yet. I will arrange for the weekend if you can manage childcare for the kids.”
The talk seemed to diminish the bliss, so I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The kids seemed to be back as the lights were turned on. Through an open door, I could see Luke sitting on his bed. He shot me a smile. I was awkward and nodded and smiled as I made my way to the stairs. I could feel a deep connection to the earth. There was a feeling of lightness that carried me up the stairs. I let myself into my apartment.
I pushed up the window to let in the night air. The rain was light, and the scent of the delicious earth wafted in. The neighborhood was quiet except for the sound of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. It was just another day in the week for most. It was I who was in an altered reality. I could see the Hudson right through the trees. The stars burned brighter.
That night Aphrodite appeared to me in a dream and whispered. It is the spaciousness that you have fallen in love with, and that began today with Isabella. This was your tantric initiation. It is the mystery that is firing up the desire. Let the fire of passion burn bright and free. Your energy will descend from the head to your perineum. It will ascend from your groin to your belly and then your heart. Once there, it will saturate your entire self with the bliss of oneness.
I woke up with a smile. Would I be able to maintain that mystery with Isabella? I wondered. I would have to ponder that question another day. For now, I had to plan for the weekend.
