Adultery Affairs to Remember - Part 1

[vyasya]

Chapter 2 - Introductions

Mayuri and I met each other in the first year of college during our undergraduate studies. I saw her a few times and was instantly drawn to her. She was stunningly beautiful but carried herself in a rather simple, some may say bland, way. Her trademark look was a simple skirt, top, and hair carefully tied in a single braid. Perhaps I should combine that with the fact that her hair parted to one side rather than the center and that she never wore makeup, not even eyeliner. She was in a different class (room) because of which we only saw each other in the corridors, but soon she realized I was smitten by her beauty. Mayuri was beautiful in a traditional sense. There were other girls who tried to look beautiful by showing more skin, resorting to expensive creams and makeup, and even acting provocatively in front of adrenaline-pumped teenagers, but they never interested me.

She was 5’ 3" tall and had a slender physique with a proportional bust and hips. She had big, deep brown, beautiful eyes and pouty pink lips that were any man’s dream. Her blemish-free, pale complexion left nothing to the imagination. Although I never saw her pussy lips and areolas, I imagined them to be pink or red. In contrast to her, I stood at 5’ 9" with a lean physique and a dusky complexion. If it weren’t for my studious nature and brilliance, she would not have even noticed me.

As luck would have it, even though we had no common classes, we got introduced and got to know each other. By the end of that first year, we had shared our love notes and sort of agreed to explore a future together. To say that I was in seventh heaven would have been an understatement. She was very conservative and didn’t let me get physical earlier, or perhaps I never made a conscious attempt. I was happy to ogle her and get pleasure from that simple act.

We both lived in the same suburb of Mumbai, and hence, a few times a week, I would walk her home after we got off the train. This is when our love blossomed and I connected with her. Before that, it was just a physical attraction for me. By the time our second year started, she had no hesitation in visiting me at our home. A lot of my classmates visited me to get study tips and to clarify their concepts. I excelled in school and even taught classes for 10th and 12th grade students in some subjects. Fortunately, this helped ease our financial situation to a great extent. One of our neighbors’ rooms was empty most of the time, and I made use of it for my classes.

Mayuri was a practical woman. Even though we confessed our love to each other, it wasn’t the way most folks did it by whispering “I love you” to each other. Mayuri was fond of me, but she never overdid it and was rarely melodramatic. She was the most practical person I had ever met in my life. This is especially so for a woman who is more emotional than a man. It doesn’t mean that she wasn’t an emotional person, but she didn’t let it affect her behavior with people around her.

Naturally, our relationship had a business-like vibe to it. We paid our own bills and bought each other small but meaningful gifts. I had several friends who were girls, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to visit me on some pretext or other. I was a social person (during those days) and kept in touch with everyone. So, her visits didn’t look awkward. She started frequenting my place soon after our 2nd year started and pretty quickly got along with my mother and the folks in our Chawl. Although she came from an upper middle class family, it never showed either in her behavior or in her dressing sense. She was a Kokanstha ***** with a flawless, pale complexion, while I was an ordinary Maharashtrian with a dusky complexion. Our backgrounds were diametrically opposite, but that never deterred her. People in our neighborhood took notice of us and often teased us by calling us Kalu-Balu (Black-and-White). It did not bother Mayuri, though she giggled occasionally, not out of spite for me. Rather, it was just her usual jovial manner.

Mayuri met my lecherous neighbor in July, the second year of my college. There was almost instantly a sign of disgust on her face. In no time, he encroached on her private space, and her nose shriveled as she inhaled his pungent body odor. I expected nothing different from either of them. He was an incorrigible prowler, constantly prowling for unsuspecting lasses. Everyone in our Chawl was way too familiar with his antics and avoided ever being alone with him. Still, that didn’t deter him from making them uncomfortable, even in front of their own husbands.

He stayed at home. God knows how he made money. He had been an excellent salesperson in the past, was savvy at money management and ran several schemes that people often invested in. He used to live with his fat, ugly wife, but she got tired of him and left him. It was a rather unhappy marriage for him as she could not bear him any children because of her obesity and hormonal issues. Kishore bhai stood at about 5’ 8”, about an inch shorter than me. He was, however, a stout and overweight man. He looked like a well-built man with a bulging belly compared to his overall frame. Think of him as a short body builder who has not been consistent with his exercise regimen, and then imagine him being 41 years old, which was his age. He was dark-skinned and had pock marks all over his face, but as I mentioned in the other story, despite it, he was decent looking. Despite his age, his hairline hadn’t receded, and that, to a great extent, made him look better and much younger.

Mayuri’s house was about a 30-minute walk from mine. In those days, it was common for people to walk a lot, and those distances never mattered. She won the heart of my mother in no time and pretty soon started helping her with some household chores. The very next month, when we celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi at our home, she was at my place, helping us out with the festivities. It was a five-day affair at my home. They only did some pooja at their place, so she was okay visiting me all those 5 days.

Even during those 5 days, I noticed how she cringed as he confidently courted her. Ganesh arthis were a big thing back then, and at our house, the evening arthis were done with aplomb, and it would fill the entire room with people. Because of the humid Mumbai weather, no matter how hard we tried, everyone would sweat by the end. During the last few days, someone else did the arthi, and I had time to see Mayuri and Kishore bhai standing together very close to each other. There wasn’t any space to accommodate 25 people in a 150-square-foot room that had some furniture. Mayuri seemed comfortable, although I thought she could sense his pungent body odor.

I knew his philandering nature and, hence, finding Mayuri in his proximity bothered me, but strangely, I had a hard-on as well. It was instant when I noticed him lay his hands on her waist as he tried to push her aside and make his way towards the temple to offer his prayers. This is how he did it; he touched in a rather innocuous way and slowly pushed boundaries. Mayuri didn’t even notice it. Kishore bhai asked me during those days if she was my girlfriend. I only blushed in response. “I am proud of you, my boy,” he hollered. Still, we refused to give any other name to our friendship. Mayuri and I were rather practical and knew we had to cross several obstacles before we could dream of a common future.

A week later, Mayuri brought up his subject. 

“तुझ्या शेजार्याची स्टोरी काय आहे?” she asked. “What’s the story of your neighbor?”

“त्याला बायकां पासुन किती लांब असावा हें कळत नाही का?” she added. “Doesn’t he understand how much distance to keep from women?”

“तो तसाच आहे. अणि त्याला कोणी काय बोलत सुधा नाही. बायका नुसता सहन करून घेतात,” I replied. “That’s how it is. And no one ever challenges him. Women simply endure it.”

“पाहिलास का? तो कसा मला वरुन खालपर्यंत बघत होता? हातही लावत होता,” she said. “Did you see how he was checking me out? Even touched me.”

“त्याच्या पासून लांब रहा,” I alerted her. “Stay away from him.”

“बायकांचं नशीब,” she mumbled in her mischievous way. “Such is the fate of women,” she muttered. “काय?” I asked. “What?” 

“कही नहीं तू राहुदे,” she replied. “Nothing. Let it be.”

Mayuri didn’t fuss more about it, and I told him we tolerated some of his antics because he had supported us several times in the past. I also gave her some background on him, his marriage, and briefly dropped hints about his philandering nature, his scandalous affairs, and how his wife quarreled with him and eventually left him. We didn’t talk about him much, but that whole evening, he was the topic, and she would constantly pepper me with questions, and soon we realized that we spent the one hour talking only about him.

This happened only about a month after she met him. I registered nothing, but in retrospect, I should have clearly read this as the first sign. Her curiosity about him had to have a reason, which I failed to understand. Her remark that such is the fate of women should have alerted me, but I missed it entirely. In a conventional sense, it meant that women had to deal with such things throughout their lives. But I could have interpreted it subtly enough that I may have missed it. It’s a man’s job to protect and shield his woman, and instead of confronting him, I was telling her to keep away from him.

Mayuri dropped such hints now and then a few more times, and I reacted in the same manner. In the second year, she visited my house sparingly and then stayed only for a little over an hour. However, that was enough for my neighbor to work his charm on her. Slowly, her transformation began. Normally, she would only wear traditional shalwar-kameez and always cover her breasts with a thin scarf during her visits, but as she became more comfortable, she began wearing her usual skirt and top that she wore to college. One other subtle thing that I noticed was that at college she wore loose tops, but while visiting my place, she would opt for slightly tighter fitting tops that outlined her bust very well, but not vulgarly. Mayuri also preferred wearing sleeveless tops or shalwars around that time. Watching her milk-white skin of her arms or calves made me almost shiver in anticipation.

This fixation on my neighbor had only started forming around that time. There were plenty of men who vied for her interest in our building. There were two young brothers (aged 25 and 23), fair and very good-looking, and ones who had scored with plenty of girls from our neighborhood. They also had another cousin who was of similar age, who too showed a lot of interest in Mayuri. Finally, there were plenty of other middle-aged men who liked her beauty and simplicity. However, she steered clear of all three young men. I was more afraid of her taking an interest in them, and since they were both young and good looking, I felt insecure around them. Mayuri avoided having any sort of conversation with them unless many people were present. They realized she was not the one to fall for their charms and that their time would be better spent elsewhere.