The pleasures of Silk-Part 2


I would have hardly slept for a few hours when the shrill alarm clock forced me to get up. I had deliberately kept it a little away from my bed. Having scrambled out of my bed to turn off the alarm, I switched on the lights. As the lights came on, I winced and quickly shut my eyes in pain. When I slowly opened them I saw myself in the mirror which was near the switch. My long hair was in a mess. My bindi had slid off and was now parked on the top of my left eyebrow. My kajal (eyeliner) was spread over my eyelids as if someone had punched me in the eyes. My lips felt dry as there was no lipstick on them.


Despite the mess, I could see my my shapely breasts pushing against the off-white satin fabric of my night-dress. The two ends of the fancy knot at the neck of dress were resting between my breasts. The dress reached upto the middle of my thighs and much of my shapely legs were visible. Something between my legs was begining to respond to the sight in the mirror.


But I had no time to admire myself and much less to attend to the junction of my legs! Quickly, I gathered my hair and fixed it with a clip. I removed the displaced bindi and fixed it on the mirror for later use. I picked up my red Pashmina sweater and wore it. Then I slipped my feet into rubber slippers and entered the bathroom. I had some difficulty in locating and undoing the zip as it was hidden by fine curly hair on my mound. The toilet seat was cold as I lifted my night dress sat on it to pee.


As I brushed my teeth I was watching myself in the mirror. I shook my head more than necessary so that I could wake up. After brushing I washed my face with soap and water. I was glad that my face felt smooth and soft.


After gulping down some black coffee, I came back to my bedroom, made-up my face, touched up my eyes, applied lipstick and wore the jumka (ear danglers). Then I combed my hair backward with a hint of a parting in the middle. As it was rather cold, I decided to wear a salwar kameez made of thick Kahmiri silk.


The time was already 6 am. I realised Ramani must have left the Asiad village to pick me up at the Defense Colony and reach the station by 7am. Hurriedly I pulled out a jute suitcase and put together a few pairs of bras, panties, two nighties, a couple of salwar kameezes, a lehanga choli set, my cosmetics and toiletaries, a couple of sweaters, some woolen socks and a pair of soft leather shoes. I decided not to take any sarees as I felt it will be better to change into dresses with Ramani watching over me.


As I was closing the suitcase, I remembered the mangalsutra (a neckchain indicating the married status of a woman in India) in the dresser draw. It was basically imitation jewellery and had belonged to Usha who used it during travel in place of a similar looking solid gold one.


As I hooked the mangalsutra around my neck I could heard my door-bell. Ramani came in with hands in her pocket because of the cold. She was wearing a heavy leather jacket on top of a white turtle-neck sweater.

She looked every bit handsome.


I could not help thinking that we made a fine pair.

Seeing me, she picked me up and planted a kiss on my lips before putting me down. Well, I was fast getting used to the ways of the strong, aggressive,muscular types! Afterall girls love being handled like that!


" You are looking beautiful Radha," she said as she cupped my face in her cold hands. I was afraid at this rate we would miss the train. I gently took her hands off my face and said," Now don't start something. We will talk about my beauty once we reach Agra...ok? Let us go now."


We had the window and the middle seats in the rear of one of the chair-cars of the train. There was a kindly looking lady on the aisle seat.


"Beta (child)! Looks like you two just got married," the old lady remarked to us as the train pulled out of Nizamuddin station. "We have been married for a couple of months now,aunty" Ramani responded. Ramani's voice sounded different. She had managed to make it a bit gruff and masculine.


As I smiled at the lady, Ramani continued, "From the time we got married Radha here has been pestering me to take her to Agra. Atlast we are on our way now." I looked at Ramani in mock anger and said in a soft voice to the lady, " Actually Aunty, Ramani was more interested to visit Agra than me. He doesn't like to admit it." The old lady laughed," But my dear, it does not matter. I am sure you will both enjoy it."


The ice was broken and we continued to chat throughout the journey. I was proud of the way I modulated my voice. I think I let it remain slightly husky, to be able to maintain it. Ramani was also moving into her role and throughly enjoying herself. I noticed a few ladies looking at Ramani with interest as they walked past in the passage. Ramani was no longer the awkward looking tall muscular woman but a totally handsome man who was making hearts flutter.


Actually speaking, I had more admirers than her!! Men would bang into each other as they passed our row.


During the journey once when Ramani had gone to the washroom, Geeta aunty whispered to me," Radha beta, your man looks very strong and muscular. He could hurt you while making love to you. When he squeezes your breasts or privates or anythingelse, dont let him use too much force. That way you will remain painfreeand he will be able to service you many times during your holidays. That way your holiday will become enjoyable. I am an experienced lady and I am saying this for the good of both of you."


I blushed on hearing her words and she lovingly held my face in her palms and kissed me on my forehead. Just then Ramani came back. Aunty and I looked at each other and giggled. When Ramani wanted to know what the joke was, aunty put her off saying,"Boys need not know everything girls talk about."


As the journey progressed, we learnt that Geeta aunty lived alone in her bungalow at Agra. Her husband Brigadier Kaul had died in action. She was teaching in a school at Agra and wished to be away from her relatives in Delhi. We became such good friends that aunty insisted on our staying with her. "You are like a daughter to me." She kept telling me.


A chauffered car met us at Agra station. The time was around 10 am and the winter sun was warming up the air. It was a long journey to the house and aunty told us a lot of anecdotes about her life in the army. In think in a way she was trying to re-live her past through us.


Once we reached, a uniformed servant carried our bags and led us to our room. Aunty told us that she planned to rest awhile and have a late lunch. She felt we too needed to rest for some time as we must have got up early to catch the train. I thought I noticed her looking at Ramani with a twinkle in her eye while she said that.


When the servant closed the door gently and left us alone, Ramani came over to me, pulled me up from the chair hugged me and kissed me passionately. "Radha, You have made my life so wonderful. I cant thank you enough. I have never felt so comfortable and happy outside the volleyball field. I really want to be your husband forever. Will you be my wife for rest of your life?"


I felt so touched that my eyes became moist and my voice became hoarse. I just managed to whisper back," I do. I do, my dear Ramani. Nothing in the world will make me more happy than being your wife." I wanted to say that I wished to be her wife for our next lives and not only for this one.


As if to reflect our emotions the firewood in the fireplace crackled and we moved away from each other slightly startled. We also felt somewhat sweaty. The room had warmed up and we realised we were wearing too many clothes for the warm room. I opened my suitcase, picked up my orange top and beige slacks and went into the bathroom.


When I returned Ramani was sitting on the sill of the large french window. When I went near her she just pulled me so that I sat between her knees. Soon she started squeezing my breasts and rubbing my mound. Just then I shared with her what aunty had told me in the train. We laughed about it and her love-making though gentle became urgent. In a short while we were kissing with our tongues darting into each other's mouth. A lot happened after that and we finally dozed off. When we woke up it was 2 pm and we could get the smell of food from some other part of the house. I felt very shy to face aunty as I knew she would guessed what we had done in our room. But there was no choice now! I freshen up and reduce any tell tale signs of our lovemaking.


Ramani was ready quickly but I took some time. I wore a dark salwar kameez made out of thick silk. The kameez had embroidary on the neck and sleeves. Ramani wore an off-white kurta pajama with a fully buttoned coat.


Aunty was waiting for us when we reached the dining hall. She brushed aside our apologies and expressed her happiness in having a lovely young couple in her house. I twiddled my mangalsutra as Ramani put her arms around my shoulders rather protectively.


We ate the aloo parathas and dahi (yoghurt) as if we had never seen food in our lives. I dont know if love-making stimulates appetite. Anyway I ate a little less than Ramani because I was worried about putting on weight. I had measured myself the previous night. I did measure 36-25-37 and wanted to keep my figure intact for my husband's joy!.


After lunch, Ramani and I took a walk in the garden. We sat under a bush and I stretched myself on the ground resting my head on her strong muscular lap. She leaned forward and squeezed my breasts in the secure knowledge that the bush afforded us sufficient privacy.


The next two days we really lived as wife and husband. First night, when we went to Taj by moonlight, I wore a special rajasthani skirt called lehanga. You know this beautiful red and white cotton skirt had 80 pleats around my waist. When I swirled on the lawns of the Taj the skirt bellowed and as Ramani told me, it was a sight to watch. I believe her, because the way she made love to me that night did prove how excited I had made her.


Next night, I truly fufilled my marriage vows. Aunty made me dress up as a traditional bride. She insisted on giving me her own fineries. Do I need to describe to you how excited Ramani became and how she handled me. She used all her muscle to squeeze me everywhere. Next morning I was so tired and pale that aunty wanted to know whether I was having my periods!


I have nothing more to say. How much more can life give me? I had become a beautiful girl. I had a doting mother in aunty. Ramani was my handsome husband. I am sure you would love to be in my shoes or rather.... ok leave it!