Marine GamesChapter 5 The Olympic Trials
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Transformation By Trials free porn video
This is a journey through the intricate channels of a woman’s mind. It is also the other side of the stories, ‘Tradition and Triumph’ and its sequel ‘Tradition and Triumph Again’. The reader is advised to read these first. They are more in line with typical steamy prose. This is an examination of a woman’s sexuality through a story.
*****
We were living the American dream. We had migrated just over a decade earlier with children aged 10 and 6. My husband, Ashok was an Electronics Engineer with an MBA and after the initial struggle for about 4 years his climb up the corporate hierarchy was meteoric, leading up to his position as a senior director with credible visions of a Vice Presidency.
I did what I liked best, writing. I contributed copiously to the local newspapers and magazines and continued my contract with a weekly vernacular publication back in India. My favorite subject was women and their rights and inevitably their relationships and the challenges that go with them got drawn in. I volunteered regularly at the local cancer center and sometimes helped seniors who needed getting things done.
Our eldest was a daughter who was now in University and the son was in high school. Both were good in their studies and were sufficiently involved in sports, dramatics or art to keep them well rounded, busy and out of trouble.
So far so good.
Somewhere with the birth of the new millennium, the mood at home changed. It may have crept in with Ashok’s intense drive to succeed or my overloaded schedule of multitasking or maybe it was the absence of the daughter who was the livewire and calmative force at home. Our son too was grappling with the critical years of high school when parental anxiety is at its pinnacle. Whatever the reasons were, Ashok and I moved away from each other spiritually and physically. We stopped doing stuff together or having those long chats and he lost interest in sex. The nonphysical distancing was more worrying for me.
Then Ashok blew my world apart when he said he was seeing someone else. She was his already divorced work colleague that I had met once before. She was a geek like him and that’s where the chemistry jived. There were a whole bunch of reasons, of which the last was not the least, that we moved apart, didn’t talk for prolonged periods, argued noisily when we did and finally filed for divorce. That left me devastated, sad, confused and lonely. Our kids and far, far away my parents and dear ones suffered with me.
Divorce is, of course a big deal and all the paper, dollars, tears and sweat that went with it was difficult to manage. Ironically, Ashok was rather gracious and even generous in granting my share. It may have been his guilt working for me. All the legwork was tiring and that’s when I often met Chuck, a family friend that offered to help me. His first advice to both of us was to repair the marriage. Somehow Ashok and I agreed on one thing. This isn’t working.
Chuck was a nice, friendly, fun loving guy who was a manager of some sort in a large legal firm. His knowledge of procedures at divorce was quite helpful and we got along quite well. Some of my friends began to suggest that we had something going. Nothing of that sort was on in my mind when one day my teenage son asked me at dinner if Chuck and I were in love.
That shook me a bit as that wasn’t the case but my bringing up and conservative family had somehow drilled it into me that infidelity was an incorrigible sin and this was analogous. My situation as a divorcee apparent still did not make me unequivocally single. So, I guess unconsciously I was making excuses to myself for being with a man often. My young son’s perception of this is what threw me into a defensive mode.
What that did was that we met outside and Chuck would visit at home, say about once a week. We went on long drives in his car and sometimes he would even drive miles out of town just on the highway going nowhere! This happened especially when Ashok was visiting our son. There was still lots of legal stuff to be discussed and there were many domestic and financial issues to decide on and I naturally found him a great help, a companion and someone who would share my burden.
About two months had passed since Ashok and I were separated and Chuck and I had become very close friends. He would ask me about my childhood and my youth and how I met my husband and my married life. He would share his story with me and it was quite obvious by now to those around that we had something going.
Except me.
I still told myself that I was Ashok’s ex-wife. I did not find Chuck behaving anything other than like a true gentleman. There was kindness, consideration, good manners and good deal of knowledge and common sense. That was it, I told myself. Something kept telling me that I should not get any closer than I was to this man. Yet, he was quite open and trusting as he shared some deep secrets with me. He told me about his wife who had a great big appetite for sex. I remember looking away embarrassed when he started this topic.
Apparently that appetite was what made Sandra, his wife date three other men in tandem. We got to talking for hours about relationships both platonic and otherwise. We grew very familiar with ourselves physically and it became regular, normal and even mutually expected to hug when we met and departed. Needless to mention, I guess we got closer as the summer went by and then on a sunny Saturday something happened that changed me forever.
It was simply a day when we accidentally met outside his home while he was riding back from his health club. He lived three blocks away from me. He was in his usual gym attire with a sleeveless top getting off his bike and I was walking by taking the route past his house, to get some groceries. We hugged as usual and his hard ruggedness and the manly aroma of after exercise sweating got to me. Quite irrationally I felt a new kind of closeness to him all of a sudden. I did not flinch but drew away as naturally as I could.
We exchanged the usual pleasantries but my mind was so full of something else I don’t even recall what transpired. I do remember that we confirmed our plan to meet that evening. Through that day’s chores my mind was racing through the torrential downpour of bizarre thoughts. I was left with more questions by early afternoon.
Why was I suddenly aware of his masculinity more acutely than in the last few weeks? Was it his scant sports attire that gave me that feeling? Do I like this association? Was it right, given the values I was taught and the cultural environment I grew up in? Am I changing from being the traditional conservative woman? Am I actually already single and eligible? Did I not know that when married man meets and spends time with married woman the progression is through physical intimacy?
The evening meeting was a trip to a local village fair and went off quite uneventfully with my somewhat known talent of being able to dissociate mood from face! Then when he dropped me off at the curbside, Chuck suddenly opened his heart out to me. He respected me and was attracted by my beauty and talent and intelligence and blah, blah, blah! He then declared his love!
While I was stunned by this sudden tidal wave of emotions added to the already tumultuous day, I went quiet, thoughtful and was actually left speechless. Chuck added to that by holding my hand and asking to kiss me on my lips. My confused mind was tied up in knots as I shook my head vigorously and showed my left cheek, which he kissed noisily. We said goodnight and I walked into the most disturbed night after my decision to divorce.
That was the day that actually flipped me from what I was to what I am today. I was brought up in a Hindu family with rich familial and community traditions. There was a role and rules for everyone. Disobedience was not an option and even though I nurtured an inherent rebellious streak. My kind h
earted and loving parents made it difficult for me not to toe the line. So I said my prayers, read the scriptures and learnt Carnatic music and Bharat Natyam (the regional dance form) without much fuss. It was also a tradition for the boys to play cricket, the very popular Indian ball and bat game. I played tennis and with my father’s encouragement became quite good at it.
Around pre-teens when puberty came, I had to rethink my life. This was the previous century in South India and coming of age was a celebration with rituals and worship while the subject of that event was put under much duress through embarrassment. After all, this was something happening down there and no one except my adorable sister, Gowri, explained stuff to me. Everyone else went around saying this ‘big girl’ thing which was quite annoying. My mom as sweet as she was, went into protection mode and took great pains to explain how boys can be bad sometimes and touch you and hold you inappropriately. It was when my sister described the actual sexual act to me that I went ‘Yuck!’ I actually started dreading it.
Life as a blossoming young girl was both interesting and difficult. I enjoyed being a female and loved to emulate my mother, sister and older girls and giggled with my friends when they spoke of boys. I was often complemented for my sweet baby face and as I got a bit older they said I became quite shapely. Studies came easy and with my interest to do well coupled with parental support, school work, exams and grades were a breeze. What was a bit dicey was those creepy men on the streets, busses and public gatherings, even places of worship. In crowded public places where hordes were shoulder to shoulder, I felt hands on me which was quite disgusting. I realized how one track minded some men were and avoiding and ignoring their stares and touches was almost an unsavory, weird sport. The relief was that most girls suffered this humiliation and we made it light by sharing some of the more laughable episodes. These were my first lessons in sexuality.
With this backdrop I graduated from high school finished undergraduate studies in science and registered for my Masters.
It was the game of Tennis, though that brought me to Ashok. He too played regularly at the club I practiced. I liked his shy demeanor and elegant footwork and strokes on the court. He had such expressive eyes, fairly good features and an athletic build. He was also a top class student in the university where he was studying engineering. It was a big hurray when our parents realized that we belonged to the same ‘community’ which is a nice way of saying ‘caste’. Though Ashok and I cared less about such things, the sameness helped and we were soon engaged to be married. That, of course put my Marine Biology higher studies on hold.
The impending marriage brought a few doubts to my mind that I needed sorted out and again my dear sister, who was by now married, was my savior. I remembered her talk about sex and mysteriously the act didn’t feel so repulsive anymore! Sweet Gowri explained not only the act but was open enough to discuss variations and what really excited her and very privately what her hubby, Suren liked!
Armed with this knowledge and with my natural instincts but with some trepidation I took the important step into marital union.
Our honeymoon night was a simple affair in his family home in the village. No luxurious suite in a hotel or anything even close. His grandparents’ fairly large airy bedroom with vintage furniture and an attached bath had to do. I was a virgin, hadn’t even kissed a boy while Ashok had confessed to having girls and it was after our first night when I realized what ‘having girls’ meant.
We retired to our room after dinner and the flower decked bed stood in the center like some awkward stage for me to perform on. That was the problem. I had put too much thought into my role and didn’t have much left for spontaneity. I was also terrified of the unknown and scared if I would fail to please my new husband. There was also a great big load of shyness. No one had seen my body after I was about nine or ten. Ashok, on the other hand was so sure of himself. He hugged and kissed me and with brief preliminaries he had me naked while my hands covered my face in shame. He made love to me with his fingers, lips and tongue before he expertly yet gently laid me down. I used my newly acquired knowledge and attempted to match him for expertise sans experience and failed. He laughed and asked me what I was doing and then without waiting for an answer moved over me positioned himself precisely and confidently entered me. I didn’t know what hit me but the searing pain made me go ‘ouch!’ and my hand flew to my mouth. There were people in the house! Contrary to what I had learnt, the entry was quite quickly and proficiently done.
I also knew nothing of the male body and especially about erections. I made a note to remind Gowri that she forgot that piece!
He slowed down only because the old bed began to creak in protest and then as he moved more gently I felt the bliss that Gowri promised I would. I curled my hand around his shoulders and flexed my thighs more as my knees parted involuntarily. My pelvis tilted to receive and I matched his thrusts with little feminine pushes of my own. His bushy mustache tickled my neck as he flexed to kiss my shoulder. His hot breath touched me to kindle my own fire. The sounds of his pleasure in panting and grunts and the slapping of bodies, provoked a soft moan in me too. It certainly felt good. It felt good to feel the carnal pleasure of sexual union and to feel wanted and be pleasing the one I loved.
That was the beginning. I learnt a lot over the next two years about sex, men and my own sexuality. Somethings never changed and some others took an about turn. I never failed to be extremely shy of my body. I was assured by Ashok that it was beautiful to look at and it turned him on. He loved the shape of my breasts, the colour of my nipples, the curvature of my hips and the texture and softness of my skin. Those were his words on many occasions but I could not feel the same about myself and that somehow some deficiencies or imperfections would show. I was particularly shy below the waist and covered up soon after lovemaking. I also had this perhaps unhappy trait that my desires were deep within me. It took a lot to make me want sex. The wedding night was different as the strong anticipation drove the libido. On subsequent occasions I needed the mood, the ambience and the stimulus to get me going.
That was another thing I learnt. I was different. My loving sister, even though she was much more conservative than me in appearance and behavior, confided in me that she loved sex and had often coaxed Suren into it. That was certainly not me. Quite peculiarly, when I was turned on I was a healthy participant, but I needed that persuasive prod. I found that many of my friends were like Gowri in their views and attitudes, derived largely through oblique references to their individual sexuality. I wondered if I was some kind of freak!
Given the above private profile it may be confusing to know that I had a very healthy marriage. Hubby and I had similar interests and had discussion on these but he wasn’t that interested in the deeper stuff. We hardly ever dwelt on relationships and psychology or personalities and social exchanges largely because Ashok would simply dismiss such topics with a shrug. Some women may have been upset with his inability or refusal or even callousness in not being romantic before intimacy or the lack of serious foreplay. Not me. Though the drive and arousal were deep seated, when intimate approaches were made, I was reacting and ready for sex though never the initiator. I was young and somehow there was physical arousal that was automatic and involuntary. We had our share of watching pornography and kinky behavior too. Ashok would ask me to imagine being torn apart by those giant penises on screen and fantasized so
many of those porn stars being me when we made love. I played on, as all this was gratifying for him and I, as a typical Indian woman had his pleasure foremost in my mind. What I did enjoy of the weird stuff we did was to have sex in different places in our home.
By this time and after about 6 years of marriage both my children were born and were in either daycare or nursery in the daytime when we would have the only time alone. Ashok would come home taking a few hours off flushed and excited and all set to go and we would make love in the living room, on the dining table, on the kitchen table, in the bathtub, in the kids’ rooms and even in the car in the garage! Once when we were really into it, he had a call from a female office colleague. He put her on speaker phone and we continued to make love while he struggled to sound normal and carried on. Then a few months later, again we were alone at home and I had gone down on him orally on the living room sofa, when he called the same woman again and spoke for what I thought was about ten minutes. There was an element of titillation for me as well. He told me that the woman’s name was Elisa and that she was also an Indian from the state of Kerala. She was a computer systems manager. When asked why he liked to talk to that particular woman, he nonchalantly replied that she was proud and wanted to humiliate her!
I couldn’t understand how she would be humbled on the other end of a phone line but I buried that incident among the ton of other stuff that men feel about sexual arousal. Ashok was pretty focused on the job at hand when he was ready for physical love and never dwelt on romanticizing and other sundries but hardly missed out on imagining other men and women in our bedroom. After much concerned reading and introspective research I concluded that this came from our ancestors and their community living. Societal rules were nonexistent and the gene pool had to be variant and resilient. The male, remember, in nature ensures survival through numbers while the female seeks procreation through quality. I concocted some theories for myself that kept me from wondering too much.
I met Elisa many months later at a party in the home of a common friend. She was tall and very slim and had a matching longish face with shoulder length hair that she kept bobbed to make her face more rounded. She was well endowed in the breast department but rather flat below her waist and I dismissed her as no competition. Ashok showed no hint of appreciation of her but mentioned two other women whose looks he liked. There was a Japanese woman called Kim and Carla, a local and both were executive assistants. Then there was Kamal, from Egypt whom Ashok thought fancied me. Our bedroom fantasies were constructed around these three characters. I had to play that I liked Kamal and that was challenging as even though he was a nice looking guy I couldn’t think of him in that way. The role play was thrilling and harmless and with numerous such incidences in intimacy I reclassified that as normal couple behavior.
A few years later, Elisa was the one that stole my husband away when I was least expecting it! I am still debating if fantasies are a good thing or not.
Back to my current dilemma and looking back to see the many changes in my outlook and attitudes, I realized that I was bold enough to be pragmatic and realistic and was courageous enough to talk about my inner feelings and desires. I was also a very cerebral and cause and effect analyzing person and I was left with this rather intense emotional few hours of recollection and decision making.
No, I will never fall in love with Chuck. Maybe he just wants sex. Besides, these men sometimes consider their women as trophies won and boast about their exploits to their friends. Ugh! There was no future in it. He is so different. My children will be upset. They will think I was the cause for Ashok to leave me.
Mila
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