IN A RECENT EMAIL, I was asked if I’d ever met a ‘real’ female through an Internet service. Frankly, it’s something I’ve never really given much thought. But the question, innocently asked and truthfully answered, brought back the memories, fresh and vivid as though it was just yesterday.
Her name is Madhavi. It’s a common enough name and I don’t suppose there’s any harm using it, since I’m not about to divulge anything more specific about her. She was 32 or so at the time, divorced and living alone in a one-bedroom apartment in one of Bombay’s northern suburbs. Her marriage ended, she later told me, the very first night.
She wouldn’t talk about it, but I got the sense the guy was not just totally twisted, but incapable, too. Perhaps one had something to do with the other, I didn’t know and it didn’t matter; I didn’t ask further. They separated in two days and divorced as soon as the law allowed.
She left the city for a few months till the mess sorted itself out and then returned, joined an accountancy firm, got herself a small apartment in the suburbs with the money from the divorce settlement. A little later she got a computer, discovered the Internet and, soon enough, its darker side.
That’s how we met. I found her personal ad on one of the groups or clubs, I forget which. It said she was a single lady interested in a one-on-one relationship with a man, starting with an exploration of mutual likes and dislikes over the Net. I don’t know what drew me to that post. Perhaps it was just her name, which I like very much.
Anyway, I wrote to her and we started an email correspondence, hesitantly at first on both sides, and then with increasing candour. Her ad had generated a flood of mail and she was fighting off some really aggressive men. I took a different line, perhaps that’s why it worked out for us.
I didn’t ask her for her real name, address, telephone number, didn’t doubt her sincerity, didn’t ask to meet, and always asked if I could unburden myself before doing so. I told her about myself without hesitation. I’m 37, married, Bombay-based with my own consulting firm. We’re small but well-regarded and business has been good for some time now so I’m financially quite secure.
I live alone in a spacious apartment I inherited from my parents, in an upmarket neighbourhood in south Bombay, at least a couple of hours’ drive from her place. I’m quite conservative in my lifestyle, nothing flashy, no wild times with women. There are a couple of ladies I see regularly but these are casual, no-strings affairs. I enjoy my solitude.
I told her all this. It seemed to draw her out. We got into the chat rooms and on the instant messengers a couple of hours a week. She told me about her childhood in a small town outside Bombay, her family — that she has a younger brother in college, that her father runs a small business — and hinted, briefly, at her ended marriage.
I told her I was sorry she’d been through such a bad time and left it at that. A few days later she asked if she could talk more freely. I asked if she wanted to do this by email or on an instant messenger. She surprised me by saying she couldn’t do it except in person, not even over the telephone.
I surprised myself by baulking. That seemed to frighten her and I hastened to assure her that I was just surprised, that this was unexpected. I felt her starting to retreat hastily and I knew I didn’t want to lose the chance. I hurried to make amends and agreed to meet with her. I could sense her nervousness and suggested we meet in a public place at first, perhaps for lunch or dinner.
She suggested dinner the following week at a place sort of midway between our houses, and then gave me her phone number, and asked for mine. For a couple of days after that there was a silence, no email, chat, phones. Finally, I put aside my trepidation and called the number she’d given me.
She had a lovely voice, low and soft with a hint of full-throated laughter in it, and a gentle, calm quality. The conversation was awkward and stilted till I took the plunge. I told her how much I was looking forward to the meeting and I heard her suck in her breath, then heard the smile in her voice when she said she was excited, too.
We spoke daily after that, our excitement mounting. The day we were to meet, I left work early, got home, showered, shaved again, dressed carefully. I keep myself in pretty good shape, work out at the gym three times a week, run six kilometres every other day, regularly swim and play squash at the club. My body’s fit and hard and I like to keep it that way. I hate putting on weight.
I set out through the mind-numbing traffic. It took me a good two hours to get there. I’d called ahead to make a reservation and, luckily, got there before her. I gave the steward my name and he led me to a decent table by a window in a sort of alcove. I was glad for that little privacy. Madhavi came in five minutes later and was led to the table. I rose to greet her and I remember that my heart skipped a beat and I felt a stab of nervousness again.
She was — is — very pretty. She wasn’t very tall, about five foot five, with a smooth, dusky complexion. Her hair was dark, silky, drawn back in a ponytail that hung to the middle of her back and held by a simple cotton band. Her face was sweetly rounded, with a firm chin and a lovely soft-lipped mouth. There were a few small dark beauty spots on one cheek and at her throat, something I found instantly enticing.
Her eyes were large and dark, lined with eye-black and alive and dancing. She smiled and it was a lovely, genuine, warm smile that reached her eyes. I noticed that one of her side teeth was slightly crooked, another thing I found attractive. Her body looked trim, nicely curved without being voluptuous. She seemed to have nice, full, high breasts and a decent figure.
She wore a simple churidar and kurta in off-white, the kurta with a high mandarin collar. I saw a glint of a gold necklace under it. Her fingers were soft and slim in mine and I noticed she wore a gold bangle on one wrist, a gold and diamond ring that matched her earrings. Her left nostril was pierced with a small gold stud.
Our table had one of those banquettes, a semi-circular sofa instead of chairs and we sat by each other. We ordered our drinks, a beer for me, a fruity non-alcoholic cocktail for her. When the steward came around for our orders, she told me she was a vegetarian and left the ordering to me. I kept it a simple vegetarian meal and she nodded approval.
The conversation was innocuous and totally forgettable, idle chitchat, both of us skirting around the real purpose of our meeting. Slowly, we relaxed, getting more comfortable with each other. When I asked her if she was nervous she grinned and said yes, wasn’t I? I had to laugh and I found myself drowning in those warm eyes.
We had a second round of drinks, then the food came. We ate slowly, taking our time. The coffee came and with it a little silence. “I really need to talk to you.” Her voice was very soft. “Sure,” I said. “Anytime.” “Not here. It’s too public. Somewhere private.” I looked at her and asked her if she was sure. She looked down at her cup, nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure. I don’t know why, but I feel I can trust you.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly and wondered why my pulse was skittering like an infatuated schoolboy’s. The steward came and asked if there would be anything else. I looked at Madhavi and she shook her head. I asked for the bill and paid it. She thanked me politely as I did so, I said she was welcome and we stepped out. The night was cool and pleasant, Bombay’s so-called winter already in the air.
I knew she didn’t have a car and, without asking, led her to where I’d parked. Her house was not ten minutes away, in a huge, terrifically ugly complex of tall concrete matchboxes, about ten of them clustered around a large open space with a lawn, kiddie’s playground and parking space. Her tower was set back from the road. I pulled into the visitor’s lot and killed the engine. She didn’t open her door immediately.
“Would you like a coffee? Can you come in?” She wasn’t looking at me. I said I’d be happy to and we got out and rode up to her eleventh floor apartment. There were many apartments to each floor and we walked down a long corridor to her door. She let us in. Her apartment surprised me. It was just one bedroom with an attached bath, a small kitchen, an open space that served as a foyer, living room and dining room all in one.
But it was superbly done, with an impeccable eye for space and light and colour. She’d kept the furniture low and the colours light so it looked a lot larger than it really was. There was a small glass-topped dining table with four chairs, a pair of light cane armchairs with plump cushions and a wide low divan in the living area.
Opposite the front door, the living room opened out through folding doors into a long balcony that gave an unparalleled view across the surviving mangroves to the sea beyond. The lighting was subdued and subtle with great warmth. Her upholstery was in subtle pastels with splashes of colour from cushions and a throw rug. The bedroom held a large, low bed, two closets and a compact dressing table.
“Milk and sugar?” she asked. “Black, if it’s not a problem.” “No problem,” Madhavi said, going into the kitchen. “I’m afraid it’s instant.” “That’s fine.” I heard her in the kitchen as I wandered out to the balcony, trying to get the night to cool the flush in my body. There was a small wrought iron table and chair on the deck. “This is a lovely place,” I said.
“Yes, I got lucky,” she answered from the kitchen. “My father got it for me.” “Yes, you mentioned that.” “See, the builder owed him some money, so he just adjusted the loan against the place and gave us first choice. I saw many of the places and liked this the best. It’s small, but it does for me.” “It’s perfect, and you’ve done it very well.” “Thanks.”
She came out with a small wooden tray and two mugs of coffee, handed me mine. “Okay?” “Fine,” I said, sipping it. She smiled and again I felt bewitched by those eyes, by that smile. “It’s probably the size of your bathroom,” she giggled. I grinned. “Something like that. I was lucky too. Inherited the place.”
She joined me at the balcony and leaned on the slender flat rail, looking out at the distant white caps of the sea. “I like the view and the breeze,” she murmured. “I often sleep with the doors open like this.” “It’s wonderful,” I said. “No noise and you can actually hear the sea.” “That’s what I love.”
She was very close to me and I could smell her perfume, a low, lemony, curiously enticing aroma. She took a step back and I turned around, leaned my elbows on the rail, enjoying the loveliness of her face. “So what do you think?” she asked. “About what?” “Meeting me in person. After all those months on email. Am I what you expected?”
“I didn’t expect anything, Madhavi.” She smiled, tilted her head to one side. “I did,” she said. “And you’re everything I expected and more.” I felt embarrassed, muttered a thanks and she grinned, mischief in her eyes. “Do you find me attractive?” This was it. The moment of truth. I reached up and put my hand against her cheek. “Yes,” I said softly.
“I do. I find you very beautiful and lovely and attractive and sexy.” “All of that?” she laughed again, softly. “Yes. All of that.” The smile went away and she took my coffee mug and set it on the table and stepped closer to me. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Her head bent and then we kissed and it was incredible.
Her lips were soft and moist and warm and the kiss was gentle and long and undemanding. We stopped, then kissed again and this time the longing and desire was more apparent and I felt her tongue coming between my lips, her warm body pressing against mine. I could feel the weight of her breasts on my chest.
The fires erupted and we stumbled into the living room, knocking over an armchair, finding the divan, tearing at each other’s clothes, kissing feverishly. Her body was lovely, the breasts as I had imagined them, full and high and round with lovely long nipples which were already hard. Her belly was firm, slightly curved. Her limbs were smooth and slim and she had a nice sexy butt.
Her skin was smooth and silky and firm. She wore a gold necklace. My cock was bursting, throbbing and hot and when her fingers curled around it, I gasped and cried out. She was wet and ready and I entered her quickly and when I did she arched hard under me, her mouth opening wide. Her cunt was hot and wet and very tight and it squeezed down tight on my cock.
I sucked on her breasts, and she gasped, kissing me, going “Yes, oh yes, yes,” as I began to fuck her quickly and hard, thrusting my cock deeply in and out of her body. There was a wild hunger in both of us and we couldn’t get enough of each other. She moved with me, moving her hips up and down under mine, moaning and gasping in pleasure.
The heat and fever was devouring us. I moved faster and faster and then I stopped and she cried out and clung to me, tried to bring me back inside her but I resisted and, instead, split her thighs open and pushed my face into her groin. Her pussy hair was nicely trimmed and her lips were open and wet and when I pushed my tongue into her Madhavi moaned and hissed and put her hands on her breasts.
I tongue-fucked her for a long time enjoying the taste of her juices till she had enough and pushed my head away. She made me sit up on the sofa and came over me, kissing me, then moving down to my lap and took my cock in her mouth. It was fantastic. In the weeks ahead I was to discover just how much she loved oral sex and how good she was at it.
But this was my first experience with her and it was a revelation. Her mouth was warm and wet and she used her tongue like a snake. She kept switching between an intense sucking pressure to a lighter, licking touch, a kiss on the head of my tool, caressing her face and breasts with it, then going back o sucking again.
I watched her sucking me off and there was no doubt that it was turning her on because she was caressing her breasts sexily, squeezing them and tugging at her nipples. I saw her move her hand between her legs and she began to masturbate herself gently. It was one of the sexiest things to see. This was a totally different Madhavi from the one I’d met for dinner and earlier on email.
The hesitant, gentle, quiet woman was gone and, instead, she was now like a wild, starved animal, with a ferocious, burning sexual desire. She was totally uninhibited. When I pushed her head away from my cock at last, she stood up and took my hand and pulled me to my feet. We kissed again and when our bodies pressed together I could feel her wetness.
She stepped back to the glass dining table and lay down on her back on it. Without asking, she spread her legs wide for me. Standing between her open thighs, I pushed my cock slowly into her pussy again and gasped at her heat and tightness. I started fucking her again, keeping her thighs open in my hands.
She moaned loudly when I entered her and her eyes closed and her hands went up to her breasts. I fucked her slowly, pushing my cock in and out of her cunt, going in as deep as I could. Her body jerked with my deep thrusts. Gradually, I began to move faster and faster and she began to cry out with sharp little gasps and moans and her tits jiggled and bounced.
This time, it was she who made me slow down after a while. She got off the table and we stumbled through her little house to the bedroom, knocking things over as we went, kissing and fondling each other. She wanted to suck me again, and I let her have her way. I gasped and called out my pleasure and excitement when she went down on her knees on the floor and took my cock in her mouth.
She sucked my cock hard and I could hear her groaning softly. She lifted and squeezed her breasts as she sucked me. A while later, I pushed her head back and moved her to the bed where we rolled over into a 69 with her on top and yet again I licked and lapped at her streaming, juicy slit while she took my cock deep in her mouth.
When she was ready, she turned on her front and lifted her body up. I understood and knelt behind her and slowly pushed my cock into her cunt. She cried out in pleasure and lifted her head and I kissed her and squeezed her breasts. Her cunt was squeezing madly on my cock. I began fucking her slowly with long and deep thrusts, pushing my cock in as far as I could.
She moaned softly and moved beneath my body. I began to move faster till I was fucking her with quick thrusts and her cries had become loud and shrill. Her cunt tightened on my cock and I sensed her orgasm. Her body shook and trembled with ecstasy joy under mine. I kept on thrusting into her till I couldn’t bear it any more. I thrust into her hard again and again and then, with a loud moan, spent myself inside her.
We lay together for a little while and I thought she had fallen asleep. I wondered if I should stay or go. I didn’t know what she wanted. Her body was half across mine and I couldn’t slip out of bed without waking her up, so I lay there, thinking about her and how wonderful the sex with her had been.
She stirred in my arms and I felt her lips on my cheek and her fingers traced sensual patterns on my chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I enjoyed that very much.” “So did I,” I told her and we kissed again and this time it was long and gentle. “I should go,” I said after a while, and it was meant as a question. “No, please stay,” she answered in a tender voice. “I want you to stay.”
A little later, we went out into the hall again. She had put on a long shirt with the top three or four buttons open but wore nothing under it. She looked very sexy. I was wearing only my trousers. She went into the kitchen to make fresh coffee and I stood at the door and watched her. She was humming to herself. She gave me a mug and brought her own mug out into the hall.
We sat down on the divan where a little while ago we had been wildly making love. She moved closer to me and put her head on my shoulder. I reminded her that she had said she wanted to talk to me and asked if she felt like doing so now. For a little while she was silent and then she said yes in a soft voice and fell silent again. I did not hurry her. We finished our coffee and still I waited. And then, in a soft voice and without looking at me, she told me her story.