Misc. Erotica An open marriage in India: Autobiography of Saroj.

[Blue Bull]

~: More about Rajeev’s early mates later! :~

“Saroj, Meet Rajeev”:

Right after I finished my post-graduation in ‘78, I got a good job as a management trainee and moved into a tiny studio apartment in Mumbai with Shamolie. I was alone in a metropolis without any close relatives in India, and Shamolie and I were doing a fair bit of sleeping around, and sleeping together as well. In my spare time, I worked on my striptease – now called exotic dancing – routines in my spare time.

A few times, some of my boyfriends referred me to their business acquaintances; usually to guys they wanted to do some favours to. Wanting to play and experience the role of a prostitute, I’d quietly go to hotels and spend nights with these strangers quite casually, posing as a ‘stripper-hooker’ and making good money on the side.

Once, I danced and stripped for a bunch of four elderly guys in a hotel suite, then sucked and fucked each one in the bedroom one by one. They remarked that I was a real good fuck and had a very sexy big ass! As I fucked, I wanted the other three to watch, or take on two at a time, but they’d only fuck me one at a time in privacy. However, I must say the four really kept me busy throughout the night. In the morning, instead of checking out, the four extended the room booking for one more night. I slept like a log throughout the day in the hotel room, and the quartet came back for more in the evening. I felt very proud and desirable.

Six months before I met Rajeev, he had given a unique classified ad in ‘The Bombayite’, seeking a sexually outgoing girl for an open marriage and a swinging-swapping lifestyle. At that time, all ‘liberated’ Indian men would seek sexually liberated women to sleep with, but certainly not to marry! Free Love was merely a novelty to be discussed in clubs and living rooms, and to be practiced with other people’s wives.

Rajeev didn’t get any replies to that particular advertisement for almost six months, and then I was the only one who replied. Throwing prudence to the winds, I had openly written about my body and my sexuality, quite contrary to the social mores of those times. I had openly admitted being an exhibitionist by nature, having played a stripper and hooker too, and by then having had sex with more than a dozen men, though I had kept mum about my incestuous beginnings and my bisexuality.

A week after mailing that letter to an unnamed box number at the magazine, containing one of my half-naked dancing pictures taken by a friend, I met Rajeev for the first time at a large official lunch in early ‘79.

When I met Rajeev for the first time that day, I didn’t know that it was his ad I had replied, and I realised later that he too didn’t know that I had replied his ad, as my letter had not reached him by then! In the lunch party, I had noticed that a nice intelligent-looking guy was repeatedly sneaking interested looks at my large bottom.

Then, someone introduced me to this guy during a lull, “Saroj, meet Rajeev!” and passed on. We were soon chatting like friends, and I was aware that I was getting turned on by this man Rajeev. As we made conversation over the insipid banquet, there were definite sexual vibes between us. I again caught him a couple of times sneaking quick looks at my wide hips. The lunch was over too soon for us, and we promised to meet soon, exchanged telephone numbers and went to our respective homes.

Then fate intervened when Rajeev returned to his place after that lunch, and found the envelope containing my reply to his ad. He saw my sexy picture and immediately realised that he had just met me.

Rajeev immediately called me up, “Hi Saroj, this is Rajeev – we met at lunch today! I wanted to tell you that I’m absolutely thrilled! Can you guess why? I just got your reply to my ad seeking a life-partner in an open marriage in ‘The Bombayite’, and yours is the only reply I ever received! You are my dream-girl, and I’m so glad I met you in person already!” I went berserk with confusion and excitement! He added that though his ad didn’t say so, he simply adored plump women with big bottoms, and had always secretly wished that he’d get a wife who was a striptease artist (exotic dancer, in today’s language), and that he had loved my picture!

Rajeev asked me for a date that evening, asking if he could see me dance for him that evening in a hotel suite he’d book. I of course agreed, and he asked me to bring along my sexiest dancing costume, and get stuff to do a glitzy makeup. He also requested me very politely if I’d mind being freshly shaved. I laughed and replied that a shave was due in any case, and I’d be freshly shaved for him.

This was so much like a call-girl fixing a rendezvous with a customer! I had dreamed of this, that I’d find a husband in a customer, and so he’d be aware – and happily accept – that I was such a wanton slut. But this was even better – here was this charismatic graduate from India’s most prestigious college, genuinely looking for a swinging wife, interested in my heavy figure, my erotic dancing, and my sluttish nature, and asking me to be clean-shaven for our very first date, taking for granted that I’d be showing him my shaven genitalia! I do have a big, well-defined, earth-mother cunt, and the exhibitionist in me was thrilled! Even if he didn’t marry me, I’d at least have a real good time, may be an affair, with this guy!

I had only two striptease artist’s outfits, and the choice was obvious – a tiny red string bikini, covered by large black gold-embroidered set of bra-n-panties, black 5” stilettos, and a transparent red Ghaghra (a ruffled maxi-skirt) with side-slits right up to the waist, and a Chunni (large scarf) of the same material.

With a flutter in my heart, and my cunt all wet, I met Rajeev again that day for an early light dinner at a swank restaurant. He told me all about himself over dinner as I listened with rapt attention. After the dinner, he took me to the lovely hotel suite he had booked. My heart skipped a beat when I realised that this was the very same suite where I had fucked four men for two nights as a prostitute. Should I tell Rajeev – I was thinking. With all this excitement, my cunt was a molten mush by then!

The moment we were alone in the hotel suite, Rajeev had smooched me beautifully, gently kneading my big sensitive buttocks, and giving me compliments after compliments on my big fat derrière. Again and again he said that I was an Apsara from the Heavens (a mythological dancing girl, said to be the most gorgeous of all), and kept repeating that I should always be proud of my large womanly derrière!
Finally, I broke away and set up some stripping music on a small portable personal stereo I had carried. Taking the plunge, I told Rajeev about having played a stripper-hooker in that very suite to four guys.

Rajeev embraced and kissed me hard, and told me that not only he didn’t have any qualms about his wife having played a call-girl, but also in his mind, a well-educated, well-off girl like me playing a stripper-prostitute by herself showed a sexual self-assurance and boldness he’d love his wife to have.

Relieved, I thanked him and asked for his leave to change into my costume. Rajeev asked very politely if I’d mind finding him naked when I made my entrance into the sitting room as a stripper. In my dreams, I had always imagined how it would feel to make a stripper’s appearance in front of a naked man, and here my dream was cumming true. Both of us were such delightful perverts, literally made for each other. I knew now for sure that Rajeev was going to marry me.

Feeling really randy, I shut myself in the bedroom of the suite and excitedly changed into my stripper’s costume, and quickly did a jazzy makeover too. It was just like the times when I had dressed up for a dance routine for my ‘customers’ in hotel rooms.

Soon, I made an undulating appearance to muted, sexy music into a brightly lit room. My shaved cunt was pulsating the moment I saw Rajeev naked and lying on the carpet. Before long, I took off all my clothes, standing above my prospective life-partner and making a brazen, titillating exhibition of all my stark-naked assets, as he lay naked on the floor and nursed his lovely erection.

When my spirited striptease was over, Rajeev sat up, turned me around and asked me to bend over and stick my derrière out. I felt so wanton doing that – no one had ever asked me to do that! Darling Rajeev pulled my asscheeks apart and started lustily lapping my whole bottom cleft, passionately tonguing my anal lips, all the while mumbling gratitude for my splendid performance, and deftly putting on a condom!

That was the very first time that anyone had tongue-fucked my asshole. In a sexual ecstasy, I just squatted down without turning around, and impaled my liquefied cunt on my suitor’s cock, with my broadened derrière right in front of his eyes! As I fucked Rajeev and tumbled from one orgasm to another, I encouraged Rajeev to call me a whore openly. He laughingly christened me his most favourite whore!

I had never believed I’d fall in love so easily with anyone, but I just did! In fact, for me, it literally was ‘love at first sight’! I had slept around, and so had he, but we clicked so well on our first date itself! After our first lusty fuck was over, Rajeev asked me to squat over his face so he could clean me out with his tongue. I did as he asked, and leaned forward to suck him for the first time and clean him with my mouth. Up close, I found Rajeev’s penis very sexy, and remember thinking proudly that this cock was now mine!

As he laved my cunt with his big tongue, Rajeev remarked, “Saroj, I want you to know how honoured I’m feeling licking your Sex (he said he’ll always call my cunt as my Sex, with a capital, and I adopted that christening from then on!). I feel great knowing that you have actually been a whore, and men have paid you – my sex goddess – handsome amounts to enter your temple of Sex! Your Sex has had power over these men! I want you to know that I have always fantasised about having sex with a real whore and then marrying her and entering that temple everyday to pay my respects!” I felt so thrilled and amused that I almost peed – little knowing that it would have been an instant hit with my darling piss-loving pervert of a husband!

That whole night, we just fucked slowly and also seriously talked about marrying each other. Rajeev fucked me doggy-style twice, and just couldn’t have enough of my fat ass!
He kept on heaping compliments on my big fat ass, and kept on saying that it had been his perpetual dream to have a plump stripteaser with big shapely derrière as his wife, with whom he could swing in an open marriage. I was so thrilled! It was as if Rajeev had already made up his mind to marry me – he confessed later that he had made up his mind when he read my letter and saw my picture, right after meeting me socially. After our first fuck, though neither of us had proposed marriage, it was a foregone conclusion that we would be marrying each other.

In my letter to Rajeev’s box number, I had written quite a bit about myself; and over dinner, Rajeev too had told me all about himself. We both had outlined our ideal spouse to each other, and discovered that we both had found our ideals in each other! I had wanted a husband, whom I could truly love with all my heart, but we both could swing-n-swap freely with full openness, consent, and knowledge. I told him I liked group sex, and was keen to explore various kinks I had read about in books.

I conveyed to Rajeev that I was quite clear in my mind that love and sex were two different emotions. Rajeev had identical thoughts about love and sex, said that he sincerely believed in swinging and extramarital sex, also with full openness, consent, and knowledge.

During our first night together, we resolved that though we would surely swing, we would never force any partner on the spouse, or use the spouse as a sex object, or use the spouse sexually to further one’s own interests, or ever be possessive about the spouse. In short, though now our hearts belonged to each other forever, we would openly share our bodies with others with the spouse’s full and permanent consent, open endorsement, even positive encouragement. We would of course swing as a couple, but we also resolved to always keep the spouse fully in the picture about all extramarital sex we would indulge in singly in the spouse’s absence, with or even without the spouse’s prior endorsement.

Here I requested Rajeev to always vet the men who would have sex with me, as I didn’t ever want to get into any unpleasant situation with any man, and he agreed. We resolved that we would take every care to not to make pregnant or get pregnant from any extramarital partner. We also resolved that we would never get into, or get the spouse into a sexual situation where even a single person was not a consenting adult, and not a wholehearted, eager participant. We shook hands on all our promises, and kissed for eternity, sealing our resolutions.

Then, before ordering breakfast, Rajeev said rather cryptically that he had some unfinished business to wrap up – he first needed to break up his existing engagement, and then would formally propose to me.

I was dazed for a moment, but Rajeev patiently explained that since he didn’t get any response from his unique ad in ‘The Bombayite’ for many months, he had had given up hopes of finding anyone through that avenue. So he had advertised in conventional media like the matrimonial columns of our national dailies. Through his ads there, he had met and got engaged to a stunning beauty named Shobhna, two years older than Rajeev. I met her the very next day with Rajeev.

Some years ago, Shobhna had been crowned Miss Hyderabad, and had moved up to the semi-finals in the Miss India contest, but had lost in the swimsuit round. In those days, they had city-wise participants in the Miss India pageant. Shobhna was a dusky slender long-legged 5’8” sensation, with a model-like figure, face and walk, and a very charming well-bred elegance. She had dainty 34A breasts and a voluptuous yet perfectly-proportioned 42” bottom on a 22” waist, a very feminine 2” gap between her upper thighs, and touching knees (The willowy 32-22-34 figure in Miss India contests is a more recent phenomenon).

Rajeev was especially attracted to Shobhna’s luscious inverted wine-glass ass, but he sincerely said mine was more perfect in his eyes. Rajeev frankly told me that he was not very happy about his engagement to Shobhna, as despite her sexy social style, and her full alluring ass, Shobhna was a really uptight Queen Victoria. This leggy beauty-pageant didn’t mind showing her bare legs to thousands of participants, but wouldn’t undress in front of Rajeev even after three weeks of their engagement! Although among educated upper-middle classes in metropolitan India, dating and sex before marriage – often non-penetrative –was fairly common in those days, Rajeev found Shobhna very unresponsive whenever he tried to kiss her or indulge in some petting.

Just one day before I first slept with Rajeev, Shobhna had rebuked him for trying to remove her panties to kiss her voluptuous ass cheeks, so he had already made up his mind to dump her. And then he got my letter and photo right after meeting me, and decided to meet me and propose to me!

Before I could react, Rajeev simply called Miss Shobhna from the hotel room, and plainly told her that their engagement was over! Shobhna was stunned. She called him a bastard, and banged the phone down. I wanted to buy a ring for Rajeev, and we both went to shop for it.

Rajeev again called Shobhna and told her to come to the coffee shop of the hotel to take back the engagement rings. Rajeev took me along to meet Shobhna, who arrived late (as usual – Rajeev told me) in the deserted coffee shop. The miffed beauty surmised that I was his new fiancée, though Rajeev had simply introduced me as his friend Saroj, and I wasn’t coddling up to Rajeev at all. She was quite disdainful to me. Rajeev put that very ring on my finger right there in front of her, and he deeply kissed me on the mouth, squeezing my ass. Miss Stuffed Skirt’s jaw dropped, and the prude called me a whore under her breath, but I knew I had no competition in that beauty-pageant dropout. As she got up to leave, she swung her hand to slap Rajeev, but he was too quick for her, and blocked her hand. In the process, she hurt her wrist, and walked off in a huff.

Compared to hoity-toity Miss Hyderabad, I had an ordinary face and a heavy-boned, opulent 36-30-44 figure – clearly unfit for the ramp, and I behaved like a slut in private. After Shobhna left, Rajeev said that his wife having a sexually extrovert nature was far more important to him than her looks, figure or style.

Rajeev always says that, looking back, he has certainly not made a wrong choice. Nor have I! He says it was not love on the rebound, and I do believe him. My sexy husband always claims I saved him from disaster, and I still tease him about Shobhna, but he seriously insists that he has been much better off with me, as Miss Graciousness’s sexuality would have never matched his own!

On the very next day, Rajeev gave me a wonderful book to read – “Open Marriage” by Nena and George O’Neill. I read it with/ him in bed in the next two days.

After our engagement, we dated every evening and had sex virtually every night in Rajeev’s apartment where he lived alone, and we got married within a month of meeting each other. We stopped having sex only for two nights before our marriage. We fell (and still are) deeply in love with each other. And in keeping with our desires to have an open marriage, we started fantasizing about having outsiders in bed with us after marriage. Within two years, we made that a reality. We waited that long because I got pregnant with our son A` during our honeymoon itself, plus we were busy setting up our home.