There Is Nothing More For Me To Write. Already Nicely Described.

do you have any other blog ???? no new updates from you ??

No. I have just this one. I haven't been able to manage myself well against the time to be able to write. I hope to be able to do soon again

Good to see an Indian women in Tumblr Very bold and sensual

I think it’s that mindset that classifies the Indian woman as different that needs to change. Indian women have always been expressive and if you ever actually read kama sutra you’ll know how advanced Indian women were globally.

Unfortunately, this so called social reforming by the old and outdated leaders pushed the Indian woman to the role of a demure wife and baby maker.

But that’s not what an Indian woman is, or for that matter that's not what a woman is.

Has your boss ever shared you with others?

Yes. He has.

Gairik & I (1st & 2nd part)

Let's call him Gairik.

I had recently started working. I had not worked before and had to take it up under duress. I possessed neither the experience nor degrees to get a high profile job. The dialogues I used here are just indicative and not an exact reproduction of reality. For those who have read my previous posts would know that my husband is deputed abroad and I am here with my children who have just started school. The school operates a bus service that picks and drops the children home. On the rare occasion when the bus service fails, the parents need to go over to collect their wards from the school.

My younger daughter's best friend in school is a nice girl and I know that the two friends genuinely care for each other. My daughter's friend, who, for the sake of this narrative we shall address as Durba (not her real name) does well in her studies and has exceptional behaviour (as opposed to mine, who at one time walked-in on us one night while we were engaged in a coitus...I believe I have written about that before). Durba lives with her father, who is separated from her mother. I could not but appreciate the wonderful upbringing that her father was undertaking. I would meet him (his name starts with G, for the sake of this narration let's call him Gairik) occasionally during the school parent-teacher meets. With the passage of time I had built a nice friendship with Gairik and I knew that he liked me quite a bit. He would often go out of his way to make things easier for me and to drop my daughter home from his house after she and Durba has spent the evening together. I liked G as a parent, and also as a man, and had often wondered what circumstances led to the separation of such a complete man from his wife. Subconsciously, at times I actually used to be on the lookout for him on the evenings when he would come to drop my daughter home, but never expressed it to him because I thought it would constitute behaviour "inappropriate" for a married woman. Sometimes on my request he would stay back a while at my house for a short chit-chat before returning home. He often made very polite requests for us to go somewhere for a cup of coffee; and just so that I didn’t feel uncomfortable he would mention that we can bring our kids along, almost as a guarantor that the parents won't do anything naughty. The wishful request was never fulfilled despite both of us wanting to. Despite the infrequent meets, our friendship grew still and we addressed each other informally enough and banter over phone-calls in the evenings, almost always ending with a promise to 'get-together sometime soon'.

It was one of those days at work, when there was a high-importance agenda meeting to take place in my office, and things were pretty going all topsy-turvy in the preparations therefor, that the school authorities called me. The conversation was on the following lines.

"Mrs. Shefaali, we regret to inform you that the bus service on your route has broken down and you need to come over to collect your daughter". "Oh! But I am about to get into a meeting in another fifteen minutes". "We are really sorry but you need to come over and collect your ward. Or else you need to have someone else collect her from the school". "But I don't have anyone else at home who could come over now". "We understand your inconvenience, but this is an emergency situation. Please reach before xx:xx because the school authorities will not be in office after that. Thank you for your cooperation". And the line was disconnected.

For the next few moments I broke into a cold sweat, unable to figure out how to manage both the sides. My phone rang again and I answered it even without checking who the caller was.

"Shefaali, Gairik bolchi" (This is Gairik calling). "Han Gairik, balo" (Yeah, tell me). "Shono, the school called and ..." (Listen...). "Han jani, ki korbo bujhte parchi na, ekhane bhishon important ekta meeting suru hote choleche" (I know, I cant figure out what to do, I have a very important meeting starting in a few min from now). "Shefaali, kono chinta koro na, ami Durba-ke ante jacchi, Prodiptaa (my daughter, not her real name) keo niye aschi. Ora dui bondhu amar kachei thakuk. Tumi nischinte office-er kaaj sesh kore amake call koro, ami eshe tomake office theke pick up kore nebo" (don't worry. I will collect your daughter along with mine and the two friends can stay together at my place. Call me once your work is over and I will come over to collect you from your office). 'Oh Gairik, eta koto boro help tumi nijeo jano na" (Gairik, this is a very big help from you). "Charo to osob formality, jao kaaj koro, edikta ami samle nicchi" (don't be so formal, go and complete your work, I will manage this side).

The meeting went long and still showed no signs of conclusion. When I asked my boss for the permission he was most reluctant to let me go, but the situation was such that he couldn’t refuse. But it came with a warning that this is the first and the last time he is letting me go when there is a VIP client in the meeting.

I called Gairik.

"Gairik?" "Haan Shefaali, bolo? Meeting sesh hoyeche?" (Tell me Shefaali, is your meeting over?) "Haan, I mean sesh hoyni, kintu allow koreche phirte ajker moton" (the meeting isnt over but I have been exempted and allowed to return for today). "Darun khobor. Tumi okhanei thako. Ami aschi tomake pick up korte" (excellent news. Be there and I am coming over to pick you up). "Ami cab niye chole aste pari, tumi keno unneccesarily asbe? tai asbo?" (I can hail a cab and come over. Why do you want to take unneccesary trouble. Should I?) "Shefaali, office theke ek pa-o berobe na. Okhanei darao, ami ekkhooni aschi" (don't take a single step out of the office. I will be right there). "Accha baba. Esho." (Ok, ok. Come), I said, as I smiled and hung up the phone. I don't know what made me smile. Was it because I don't have to take the trouble of getting a transport back home? Was it because my daughter is safe and cared for? or was it because I would get to meet Gairik, just me and him in the car?

to be continued...

A Midsummer Afternoon's Reality

Part 2

Contd from Part 1...

This was not one of those swanky, high-end malls in the heart of the city, rather a quieter one. It still had all the trendy brands that one would find in the bigger malls, particularly one chain that I had been thinking about in the past to visit to buy a certain item of which there was a large choice offered there. It is frequented mostly by the localites. As an acknowledgement to the 'attentive' cabbie, I smiled generously at him while alighting. He smiled back too. To stop any further speculation, this really was the last that I saw of him.

As I alighted the cab and climbed the white marbled steps, the glass doors slid open and a powerful whiff of cool air intermingled with a lot of fragrances engulfed me. The doors closed behind me, I looked around at the familiar set of showrooms. I have been here so many times before. But I am sure the next time I would be here, there would be a fond memory that will get attached to my life and I shall not look at this place as the same again. This however was not something I was still aware, but time would be teaching it to me soon. There was only one thing that I required and i was mentally prepared to do only window shopping for the rest. The AC mall with the nice, soft fragrances made me momentarily forget the hot, sweaty summer sun outside. A few more minutes and I felt the cooler than usual sensation at my underarms and along the neckline of my blouse. I realized it's the impact of the cool environment on the sweaty patches. I ran a finger along the edge of the deep-maroon blouse to get a slight relief from that condensing sensation. Being a hot summer noon, the mall was by and large empty, although i was sure that by the evening it will record more footfall. I headed towards the ladies washrooms to set myself right before exploring the mall.

Inside the washroom brightly lit with shaded yellow LED lights, I walked to the mirrors on top of the basins. i was the only one there. I looked at myself as my mind wandered. I felt that despite giving birth to three kids, I have maintained myself not entirely bad. Men still flirt with me, some of the members at my swimming club are always proposing 'dates' to me, I get a hundred Good Morning messages on my WhatsApp every morning from men who seek my companionship, visiting the pubs inevitably meant being asked for a dance and more afterwards, I get invited to my boss' home in the evenings and sometimes on the weekend because he loves to have me over there to relax and unwind, my Uber driver had kept stealing looks at me during which I consciously looked away so that he can continue having his view, my swimming trainer on who I have a big crush on keeps giving me those electrifying 'accidental' touches when we swim in the evenings. I have continued my exercises of running, swimming and practicing yoga very diligently. I felt good as I looked at myself in the mirror. i saw that one drop of sweat hanging on the last edge of my arching left eyebrow, my face looking flushed because of the sweat and heat. I flicked the drop off with my left index finger and pulled a  couple of napkins to dab my face dry. I straightened my open hair once more. Was I smiling? I don’t know, but probably a man would say there was a smile in my steps. It felt good...it felt good. I clicked the washroom door open and stepped back into the mall.

To be continued...

Antony Micallef - Study of an embrace, charcoal on paper.

Hell Explained By A Chemistry Student

You haven't mentioned about the people you saw in bed together when you returned home early.. I'm still curious about it

It's too embarrassing to mention about on the public page. Please message me separately.

Unprotected

A while ago, someone who chose to remain anonymous, asked me a question on my Tumblr blog. I was asked, whether I feel the urge to indulge in sex without condoms and if yes, how I feel when the man attains his climax.

It is a very common phenomenon to experience the urge to let nature take over. If you observe nature, the way an intercourse was designed to conclude was with the man ejaculating his seeds inside the willing woman. This is the original and primal design. Anything else were the results of innovation and convenience created by the humans, or at least in my personal opinion.

I am not above nature. Once in a while, I have met men who have been able to instigate that primal desire in me where despite knowing fully the risks involved in having unprotected sex, I have gone ahead and submitted to nature. Such occurrences are rare and very few men have been able to light that fire in me, but yes it does happen. Not necessarily they were men who were known to me. There have been instances where the man involved was someone I was meeting for the first time in a most unplanned way. Maybe I was in the shopping mall (I will write about that someday) or at the bank (already written about it), or somewhere which was far removed from the agenda of having sex, and then out of nowhere a man appears who lights that fire in me and I feel the utmost desire to be with him in private and just let him do whatever he wanted to.

From my limited observation I have come to the conclusion that if all the men on Earth had only ONE SINGLE point on which they have a full consensus, it is about their universal hatred towards the innocent condom. These men who I met, are no exceptions and unless I urged him to use one, he wouldn't voluntarily want to. And like I mentioned, once in a while comes a man who lights that primal fire in me where I do not even feel like asking him to use a condom.

A condom, for me, is primarily a means of avoiding infections. Birth control is not the main agenda, I have safeguarded myself through other means to ensure that happening. What that means is that even when I am involved in an unprotected (well, protection of a condom to be precise) coitus, I am still safeguarding myself from unwanted pregnancy. Yes, the risk of infection is still there. Maybe I have been extremely privileged so far that I didn't fall a prey to them yet.

Coming to the second part of the question, of the feelings I experience when the man actually unloads himself, from a purely physiological perspective, nothing can be 'felt' inside when the jets shoot out. The difference is rather entirely psychological. The knowledge that a potent, virile man is engaged inside me and is depositing his very essence, the very core of him which can potentially (subject to other factors conducive to it) create a new life that will contain his characteristics, is an ecstasy for me.

Yes, I can know when a man is going to ejaculate a few moments before he actually does, because a man's body sends out distinct signals that it is about to release the precious seeds. Mostly it is through the increased speed of his thrusting, coupled with very deep guttural grunts, the tightened grip on me as if trying to stabilize a moving prey to be able to hunt it without failing, the increase in the force of the thrusts as if trying to make the last possible best efforts to deposit the seeds as much inside as possible to maximize the probability of his making me pregnant with his baby, pressing really down with his hips in each forward thrust, thus trying to push the opening on his erection reach as deep as possible, an almost imperceptible vibration that takes over the entire erection to ensure the seeds are 'flung' even further deeper, which can be felt by the woman who has learnt how to recognize them; so yes, it can be known a few moments before the actual ejaculation happens.

And once it is known, it makes me realize that this man is now in that intimate position where he can actually put a baby, a mini him, to grow inside me, that the man is making his best efforts to maximize the chances of impregnating me by releasing millions of his seeds deep inside me and that just ONE SINGLE of these seeds are sufficiently potent to actually create a new 'him' inside me, that this man is at this moment having only the single agenda of releasing his seeds, that right now my insides are flooded with the actual seeds of a man, that right now I am being one with nature, that even after he leaves and I put my saree back on and return home, I will still be carrying his essence with me, that knowledge is what drives me ecstatic.

I am not sure if I have been able to answer the question but submitting my two cents on the subject.

Oh it has always been you and you and you.

“Mention a friend who haa been with you in your hard times and thank them.”

— Unknown