Adultery Radiance of Vanitha

[adams_masala]

Chapter 28: Awakening in California

# Scene 1

Ashok’s large home in San Francisco sat on a suburban wedge of street that looked, to Latha, like a movie set. It was not so much the size...she had seen plenty of American homes in Tamil serials and the glossy pamphlets her cousin mailed home each Diwali...but the silence, the hushed permanence of it, as if even the air was thicker, built to insulate the world from sorrow. Early afternoon sunlight, filtered through glass and the waxy leaves of a Japanese maple, pooled on the kitchen tile in elongated, almost translucent rectangles. The light was gentler than Chennai's, more forgiving; it made the inside of the house look clean and patient.

Latha was alone at the kitchen table, arranging stems of baby’s breath and half-wilted chrysanthemums into a broad glass tumbler. She did not know the names of most of the flowers at Safeway, but she had picked these for the way their colors made her think of butter and milk sweets. She fumbled with the scissors, careful not to chip the edges, and trimmed the ends one at a time, lining them up with the same discipline she used when separating fenugreek from its chaff back home.

She wore a soft green kurta that Ashok had bought for her at Kohl’s, an hour after she landed at SFO. He had been insistent about it, that she needed something “Americanized but not flashy” for doctor appointments, that the heavy silks and starched cottons in her luggage were “too India.” She obeyed, as she always had, and found the new clothes more comfortable than she had expected, especially here, in this climate of indoor chill and outdoor lull.

Ashok came down the stairs quietly, carrying his laptop and a mug of instant coffee that smelled faintly of cardamom. His face was unshaven, the skin under his jawline shadowed and blue. He wore a navy fleece with the logo of his software company on the chest, and the way he walked...barefoot, careful on the steps...reminded her of a much younger boy, cautious and upright.

“Good morning, Latha,” he said, though it was almost noon by the clock on the stove.

She stood, hands folded. “Good morning, Anna. Sorry, I did not make breakfast for you. I didn’t know...”

He waved her apology away. “I already ate, don’t worry.” He smiled, and it was an honest smile, the kind that asked for nothing. “What are you making? You like these flowers?”

“I’m just arranging them. In the video call last week, Akka said that it helps the house look cheerful. For pregnancy.”

He set down his coffee and peered at the half-filled tumbler, the stems bent awkwardly but gathered in a neat, tight bunch. “They’re beautiful,” he said. “You have a good eye.”

She blushed, unsure how to respond, and snipped another stem. The conversation settled into a soft, pulsing silence, broken only by the faint rattle of the heater and the hum of the fridge.

Ashok moved around the kitchen with the unobtrusive comfort of someone who had lived alone for years. He took a second mug from the shelf, rinsed it, and filled it with water from the filter. He did not ask Latha if she wanted tea or coffee, and she did not expect him to. Her instructions from Vanitha were clear: “Do not trouble him, do not disturb his schedule. He is under a lot of pressure at work.” She had memorized this line, repeated it to herself on the flight over.

But now, in the muted afternoon, she sensed that Ashok was not in a hurry. He lingered by the window, eyes on the pale blue sky, then turned back to her.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” he asked.

Latha nodded. “I am still getting used to the bed. In India, we use a coir mattress. This is very soft.” She pressed her palm into the counter, to demonstrate.

He laughed, and it was a gentle sound. “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “If it helps, there’s an extra pillow in the guest closet.”

She said, “Thank you, Anna.”

He sipped his coffee, considering her with a thoughtful, almost clinical gaze. “How do you like California?”

She was not sure how to answer. She wanted to tell him about the cold wind, the blank-faced strangers at the grocery store, the way the sky changed color so quickly after five p.m., as if the day itself was embarrassed by its own brevity. But she was afraid of seeming ungrateful.

“It is very clean,” she said. “The streets are so quiet. Even the crows are not making noise.”

He smiled again. “You miss Chennai?”

“A little,” she admitted. “But I am happy here. This is a good house.” She looked down at her hands, which were flecked with green from the flower stems. “You and Akka have been very kind to me.”

He seemed about to say something, then hesitated. “We’re the lucky ones,” he said, softly. “You’re doing a great thing for us.”

She shook her head, quick. “No, no. It is my duty.” She remembered the words she had practiced in the consulate office, the ones that always sounded better in English than in her own mind: “I believe in helping others. My mother always said, if you can give someone a child, you are doing God’s work.”

Ashok’s expression shifted, and for a second she thought she saw sadness there, or maybe guilt.

“Is that why you wanted to be a surrogate?” he asked, and his voice was very gentle. “Because of your mother?”

She was not used to talking about her feelings, especially to a man. But Ashok’s tone was so soft, so obviously lacking in judgment, that she found herself wanting to answer.

“In my family, we have a tradition. My great-grandmother, she delivered babies in the village, even when the doctors were not there. My mother also took care of women, for small things. I thought… maybe this is my way to do the same. But I do not want my own child.” She felt her cheeks burning. “Not yet, at least.”

He looked at her, as if searching for some hidden meaning in her words. “That’s very selfless,” he said.

She did not know the word selfless, but she smiled anyway, hoping it fit.

The silence stretched again, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken.

Ashok shifted his weight and leaned on the counter. “Can I ask you something, Latha? Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Anna.”

He paused, weighing the question in his mind. “Were you ever scared? I mean, to leave your family and come here? To do all this for people you barely know?”

The truth was, she had been terrified every day since the visa arrived, but she had tried so hard not to show it. She thought of the airport, the row of security officers who searched her bags, the cold, impersonal questions at the passport counter. She thought of the way her stomach twisted every morning, how her hands sometimes shook when she poured the tea.

“I was scared,” she said, her voice a thread. “But not because of the work. In my village, everyone knows me. Here, I am a stranger. But Akka said, after the baby comes, I will always have family in America.”

Ashok nodded, his face very open. “She’s right. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Latha picked a petal from the table and rolled it between her fingers. “My mother worries, sometimes. She says, maybe I am too trusting. But I want to believe people are good.”

He leaned forward. “You can trust me,” he said, and there was a gravity in his voice she had not expected. “If you ever need anything, just tell me.”

She smiled, more relaxed now. “Thank you, Anna. That is very comforting.”

They sat there, the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock marking the spaces between their words. Latha finished arranging the flowers, set the tumbler in the middle of the table, and wiped her hands on a paper towel. Ashok finished his coffee and glanced at his phone, the screen lit up with notifications.

He straightened and said, “I have a call with the lawyer at two. You’ll be okay here alone?”

She nodded. “I will read, or walk outside. Maybe water the plants.”

He smiled, a little distracted now, but still kind. “Don’t go too far. Neighborhood is safe, but just in case.”

“I understand.”

He gathered his things and headed to the office at the end of the hall. Latha watched him go, then turned back to her flowers. The room felt warmer now, less intimidating, as if her presence had been acknowledged, accepted.

For a long time after Ashok left, she sat at the table, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass, thinking about the baby that did not yet exist, about the family she was helping to build. She thought about her mother, and about the old stories of women who made new lives from nothing.

Outside, the wind picked up, making the maple branches tremble in the sun. Latha watched the shadows flicker on the wall, and in that gentle, shifting light, she felt...for the first time since her arrival...a little less alone.


# Scene 2

Ashok emerged from his office at dusk, his hair ruffled and his glasses slightly askew, as if he had spent the entire afternoon running a hand through his scalp in frustration. Latha had made rice and a simple dal for dinner, her first attempt at a one-pot meal without the safety net of WhatsApp video instructions from her mother. The house felt different at this hour...quieter, the light inside thickening into a kind of hush that made even footsteps sound deliberate.

She set the table for one, then hesitated. Vanitha had told her to give Ashok space, to avoid “crowding” him after work, but tonight she sensed a different mood. He hovered at the kitchen doorway, not quite entering, his gaze unfocused. There was a gravity in the air, as if they were both circling a question neither knew how to ask.

“You don’t have to wait on me,” he said, when she caught him watching. “I don’t expect you to serve.”

Latha shook her head, smiling. “I finished already. Please eat, Anna.”

He sat, spooned rice and dal onto his plate, and took a few bites in silence. She stood by the sink, wiping the counter in slow, unnecessary circles, not wanting to leave but unsure where to go.

“You made this?” he asked, after a moment.

She nodded. “I hope it is not too bland. I do not know if you like spicy.”

He smiled, genuinely amused. “This is perfect. I like comfort food.” He took another bite, then set the spoon down. “Do you ever miss your mother’s cooking?”

She nodded, her eyes brightening. “She makes the best rasam. When I was small, if I had fever, she would crush the garlic and mix it in with hot rice. It was like medicine.”

Ashok leaned back, his posture relaxing. “My mother was the same way. Always had a remedy for everything.”

They laughed, the shared memory easing something in the room.

He ate a little more, then looked up, his expression changed. “Can I ask you a personal question, Latha? If it makes you uncomfortable, just tell me.”

She nodded, her face serious. “You can ask, Anna.”

He hesitated, then said, “Have you ever been in love?”

The words seemed to hang in the air, louder than either of them expected. Latha blinked, startled. She set her cleaning rag down and folded her hands in front of her, unsure how to stand.

“No,” she said, after a moment. “I do not think so.” She searched his face, as if trying to find the right answer there. “In my family, it is not common. We do not talk about such things. My father was strict. Even now, if I am out too late, my mother gets worried about what neighbors will think.”

Ashok nodded, his eyes soft. “I understand. My father was the same.”

Latha shifted her weight, suddenly conscious of how close she was standing. “I have friends who talk about boyfriends, but it is just… stories. No one really does anything.”

He smiled gently. “Did you ever want to have that? Someone special?”

She thought about it, the silence growing intimate. “Maybe in the future. But for now, I want to help my family. My brother is still studying. My parents do not have much. This is a good chance for them.”

He nodded, considering her words. “You’re very brave,” he said.

She looked down, embarrassed. “I don’t know if it is brave. It is just… my job.”

Ashok leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You know, when Vanitha first suggested surrogacy, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe it was selfish. But now, seeing how much you care, I think it’s the right thing.”

Latha smiled, shy but pleased. “Thank you, Anna.”

He reached for his glass, hesitated, then set it back down. “Is it okay if I ask… have you ever been… close with someone? You don’t have to answer, of course.”

Her cheeks went pink, but she did not look away. “No. Not even holding hands, except my cousins. I have seen movies, but I do not know what it is like.”

Ashok nodded, as if this explained everything. “That’s okay,” he said. “It’s not something you need to rush.”

She smiled again, a little more relaxed. “Sometimes I think, if I ever fall in love, it should be someone who is kind. Not rich, or handsome. Just kind.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. “That’s a good wish,” he said. “You deserve that.”

The conversation paused there, both of them wrapped in their own thoughts. Ashok finished his meal, and Latha busied herself rinsing dishes, her hands moving quickly but her mind elsewhere.

He stood to leave, but lingered at the doorway. “Thank you, Latha. For talking to me. I know it’s not easy.”

She looked up, her eyes bright. “Thank you for listening, Anna.”

He left, and Latha was left alone with the soft echo of their conversation. She thought about his questions, about her own answers. She had always assumed that love would arrive suddenly, like the monsoon, but now she wondered if it was more like the careful, slow unfolding of a flower...a gradual opening, a slow trust.

She went to her room, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, her hands clasped over her stomach. The house was silent again, but the silence felt different. Not empty, but waiting. Like the moment before a prayer is spoken, or a wish is made aloud.


# Scene 3

It rained in California that week, which to Latha seemed a joke: back home, rain was noisy, embarrassing, prone to wild mood swings. Here, it settled in quietly, making the house feel warmer, the lights richer. In the evenings, she and Ashok often shared the living room, both pretending to read. He plowed through technical reports and printouts from work, and she read a tattered copy of “The Secret Garden” from the guest room shelf, the print so fine that she sometimes lost her place and had to start the page again.

Tonight, Latha sat cross-legged on the carpet, folding clean laundry into a neat pyramid beside her. Ashok sprawled on the couch, sockless, his feet tucked under an afghan, flipping through his phone. The TV played a dull insurance ad with the sound off.

As she smoothed the sleeves of a shirt, she caught Ashok watching her with a look that was not quite readable...curiosity mixed with something softer.

“Do you need anything, Anna?” she asked, worried she had missed some instruction.

He shook his head, distracted. “No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

She waited, folding another shirt.

After a pause, he said, “May I ask you something personal, again? If it’s too much, just tell me.”

She nodded, setting her hands in her lap. “Of course.”

He put his phone down, drawing in a long breath. “You remember, yesterday, when you talked about your friends and boyfriends?”

She smiled, a little embarrassed. “Yes. You asked if I ever had one.”

He laughed. “Sorry, that was too direct. But it made me think about… my marriage.”

She was startled. “Are you unhappy, Anna?”

“No. Not exactly.” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s just… with Vanitha, everything has always been planned. Structured. Even the most private things. After a while, it felt more like duty than love.”

Latha considered this. She tried to imagine Vanitha, with her perfect makeup and queenly poise, doing anything as clumsy as kissing a man. The thought seemed impossible.

Ashok went on, voice lower. “She was always very careful. Very protective of her body. She never wanted to risk a baby, not until everything was perfect. So… we always used protection. Always.”

Latha did not quite follow. “Protection?”

He tried to smile, awkward. “Condoms. Do you know what those are?”

She shook her head, genuinely baffled.

Ashok’s ears went red. “Oh. Um… it’s a thing men wear, like a cover. To stop… you know, the seed from going inside. So no baby.”

Latha blinked. “Like a cloth, or a glove?”

“Sort of. It’s very thin. But you can still feel it.” He looked away, then back at her. “I know this is strange. But after so many years, it made everything feel… distant. Like there was always a wall between us.”

She mulled this over. “Did you not like it?”

He smiled, a little wry. “It’s fine. But sometimes I wondered what it would be like without. More… real.”

Latha said, “I never knew such things existed. I thought babies just came, if God wanted.”

Ashok laughed, a little too loud, then covered his mouth. “Maybe that’s better,” he said. “Less pressure.”

She leaned forward, intent. “May I see one?”

His eyes widened. “A condom?”

She nodded, face serious. “Yes. I want to understand. For science,” she added, mimicking the phrase he often used when explaining gadgets.

He stared at her for a moment, as if waiting for her to laugh. She didn’t.

“Okay,” he said. “Just a second.”

He left the room, and Latha continued folding shirts, hands trembling a little. She wondered if she had embarrassed him, but she didn’t want to pretend she understood something when she didn’t. That was the promise her mother had made her give, before the flight: Always ask. Never be ashamed of not knowing.

Ashok returned with a small white packet. He handed it to her, his fingers grazing hers.

She turned it over, studying the words...“ultra thin,” “lubricated,” “for maximum sensation”...not understanding but fascinated by the packaging, the secrecy of it.

“Can I open?” she asked.

He nodded. “If you want.”

She tore the foil and slid the condom out, surprised by how slippery and delicate it felt. It looked like a tiny balloon, rolled tight, a ring of clear jelly at the edge.

“How does it work?” she asked, unable to mask her curiosity.

Ashok swallowed, took a breath. “It… rolls down over the penis. Like this,” he mimed with two fingers, a little sheepish. “It keeps everything inside.”

She turned the condom over in her hand, awed by how thin it was. “Does it hurt?”

He smiled, the tension breaking a little. “No. It just feels different. Not as warm. Not as close.”

She nodded, returning the condom to him with careful hands. “Thank you for showing me.”

He took it, his face unreadable now. “You’re very brave, Latha.”

She didn’t feel brave, but she liked the way he said it.

They sat in silence a long time, the TV flickering in the background. Latha finished folding the shirts, her mind full of new questions she was not yet ready to ask.

When she looked at Ashok, she saw him staring at the condom in his palm, as if wondering what it would be like to be unguarded, just once, to let a thing happen without a barrier.

She thought maybe she understood, a little.


# Scene 4

Later that night, the storm intensified. Rain rattled the windows and filled the gutters with sudden rivers. Ashok paced the kitchen, pretending to tidy up, but really just moving things from one place to another. The white foil packet, now resealed, sat on the countertop between them.

Latha stood a little apart, watching the rain through the sliding glass door. The only light was the under-cabinet strip above the stove, which made the whole kitchen feel like a secret room. She seemed at ease, one hand cradling a mug of tea, her other arm hugging her waist as if to keep her thoughts from spilling out.

Ashok wiped his hands on a towel, then picked up the packet. “Do you want to see how it works?” he asked, the words sounding more formal than intended.

She turned, face open. “If it’s okay.”

He nodded, trying not to show nerves. He opened the packet and pulled out the condom, holding it up so she could see.

“This is the rolled part,” he explained, showing her the edge. “It goes on like this.” He placed the tip on his index and middle fingers, then used his other hand to unroll it down, careful and deliberate.

Latha leaned in, eyes bright. “So thin,” she said, and reached out. “May I touch?”

“Of course,” he said, his pulse spiking as her small hand grazed his. She pinched the latex, stretched it gently.

“It feels like skin,” she whispered. “But slippery.”

“That’s the lubricant,” Ashok said, voice catching a little. “It helps.”

She giggled. “So it won’t get stuck?”

He grinned, relieved by her honesty. “Exactly.”

She pulled her hand away, looking at him. “Is it strange, to wear?”

He shrugged. “At first, yes. But you get used to it. It’s just… less sensitive.”

She nodded, absorbing the information. “Do you ever wish you could try without?”

Ashok hesitated, then decided to answer honestly. “Yes. Sometimes I think it would feel more… real. More connected. But Vanitha was always worried about pregnancy, or disease. It was never an option.”

Latha returned her gaze to the condom. “Did she not trust you?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t about that. She just… wanted control, I think. Over her body.”

Latha thought about this, then said, “If you were not married, would you still use it?”

He smiled, surprised. “I guess it depends. If I trusted the person, maybe not.”

She nodded, as if confirming some private hypothesis. “Thank you for showing me, Anna.” She offered the tiniest of bows, solemn.

He rolled the condom off his fingers, wrapping it in a napkin and tossing it in the bin. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Any other questions?”

She hesitated, then asked, “Does it change the pleasure? For men?”

He met her eyes, and for a moment, the air in the kitchen felt dense. “Yes. It’s not as warm. Or as close.”

Latha looked down at her tea, then back up. “I see.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the rain battering the glass, the silence heavy with things neither was ready to say.

Then Latha, surprising herself, said, “Maybe one day you will try without.” She smiled, shy but direct.

Ashok was startled, then softened. “Maybe,” he agreed. “If the time is right.”

She finished her tea, set the mug in the sink. “Good night, Anna.”

He watched her go, her soft steps fading down the hall. Only after she was gone did he realize he was still holding the empty wrapper, his hand damp from the touch of her fingers.

He stood in the kitchen a long time, listening to the storm. Outside, the world was washed clean, but inside, everything felt impossibly charged, as if the whole house was holding its breath.


# Scene 5

In the morning, the sky was washed clean and the garden glistened with leftover beads of water, every blade of grass rimmed in a thin brightness. Latha lingered in her room, pretending to read but really just listening to the low thrum of Ashok moving around the kitchen. She kept replaying the night before...not the condom itself, but the way Ashok’s face changed when he explained, the way his voice had trembled. She wondered what it would be like to touch him, not as a demonstration, but as something more.

She found him at the kitchen table, laptop open, a coffee ring already marking the wood. He was in pajamas, his hair flattened in one direction from sleep. The look he gave her when she entered was softer than usual, as if he was still half-dreaming.

She hesitated at the doorway, then said, “Good morning, Anna.”

“Good morning, Latha.” He looked up from his screen, then closed it with a small, decisive click. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, though she had not. She had lain awake, her mind full of questions.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I am not used to the taste.”

He smiled. “Tea, then?”

She nodded, and he rose to make it. The ritual was familiar, calming: boiling the water, measuring the leaves, waiting for the color to deepen. She watched his hands, steady and precise.

When he brought the mug to her, she accepted it with both hands. Their fingers brushed, just for a second.

She sat across from him, the silence between them less awkward than before. They drank in companionable quiet.

After a few sips, she asked, “Anna, can I ask something?”

He nodded. “Anything.”

She looked into her cup, then up at him, her eyes steady. “When you said it is different, with the condom… how do you mean?”

Ashok was caught off guard. “Um. I guess… it’s like… less feeling. You don’t get the same warmth. It’s not as… close.”

She considered. “Is that important, for men?”

He laughed, but not in a mocking way. “For some, maybe. For me, yes. I like to feel… connected. Like nothing is in the way.”

She nodded, absorbing this. “I think I would want that, too.”

He was silent, watching her carefully. “Have you ever thought about it? What it’s like?”

She shook her head, honest. “Only in movies, or what my friends said. But I never… imagined it for myself.” She hesitated, then added, “But now I do.”

He let the words settle, unsure how to respond.

She put her cup down, hands folded on the table. “Anna, may I ask one more thing?”

Is it wrong if I see how your condom works for real? I just want to know how you feel when you are with Akka.

Ashok's eyes widened at Latha's unexpected question. The innocence in her voice made the boldness of her request all the more startling. For a moment, he simply stared at her, the condom packet still pinched between his fingers.
"You want to... see how it works?" he repeated, his throat suddenly dry.
Latha nodded, her gaze direct yet somehow still modest. "I've never seen one before. Not on a real person." She twisted her hands in her lap. "Is that very wrong of me to ask? I just want to understand."
Ashok swallowed hard. The room felt several degrees warmer than it had moments ago. He should refuse...that would be the proper thing to do. Yet something in Latha's earnest curiosity disarmed him.
"It's not... conventional," he said carefully. "But I suppose if it ...if it's for educational purposes," he finished, already knowing he was rationalizing something far beyond appropriate boundaries.
Latha's face brightened with relief. "Yes! Educational. Like when the nurse showed us diagrams at college." Her innocence made his guilt sharpen, but also strangely excited him.
"I shouldn't," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. The rain outside had intensified again, isolating them in this pocket of warmth and forbidden curiosity. "Vanitha would not approve."
Latha's eyes dropped. "I understand. I'm sorry for asking something improper. I am only curious why you were not satisfied with Akka and wanted to see it to understand."
Her disappointment tugged at him in unexpected ways. Ashok had always been the responsible one, the dutiful son who followed every rule. Yet here, thousands of miles from Chennai's watchful eyes, the boundaries seemed less absolute.
"Wait," he said, surprising himself. "Maybe I could show you once and put it one. It’s nothing special, it’s like a thin wall over the skin that prevents any sensation you’d have otherwise during sex. That’s what I never felt with Vanitha.”

Latha's eyes widened at Ashok's unexpected acquiescence. Her heart quickened with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper she couldn't yet name. The rain drummed steadily against the windows, creating a cocoon of privacy around them.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I will not tell anyone."
Ashok felt sweat beading at his temples. What was he doing? This crossed every boundary of propriety, yet he found himself unable to retreat. The innocence in Latha's gaze disarmed him completely.
"We should go somewhere more private," he said, his voice low and strained.
They moved to the living room, where the drawn curtains created a twilight atmosphere despite the morning hour. Ashok sat on the edge of the sofa, the condom packet clutched in his trembling fingers. Latha knelt on the carpet before him, her hands folded in her lap, eyes wide with anticipation. The space between them seemed charged with an energy neither had expected.
"I'll need to..." Ashok gestured vaguely toward his pajama bottoms, his face flushed.
"Of course," Latha said, her voice barely audible. She looked down at her hands, giving him a moment of privacy while still remaining present.
Ashok's mind raced with conflicting thoughts. He knew he should stop this, yet found himself caught in the gravity of the moment. With trembling fingers, he loosened the drawstring of his pajamas and pulled them down just enough to expose himself. His manhood was already responding to the situation, half-erect and growing firmer by the second.
Latha's breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed his exposed flesh. She had never seen a man this way before, and the reality was both more intimidating and more fascinating than she had imagined. His manhood jutted forward, the skin darker than the rest of him, veins visible beneath the surface. It seemed almost like a separate being with its own will.
"This is..." she whispered, unable to complete her thought.

Ashok's chest rose and fell rapidly. The innocence in her gaze made him feel both powerful and ashamed. 

"This is what happens when a man becomes aroused," he explained, his voice strained. "It needs to be hard for the condom to work properly."
She nodded, transfixed by the transformation occurring before her eyes. His cock continued to stiffen under her gaze, growing larger and more imposing with each passing second.

Latha's eyes widened as she noticed something she hadn't expected...a loose fold of skin partially covering the tip of Ashok's manhood. She leaned forward slightly, her curiosity overcoming her shyness.
"Anna, what is that?" she asked, pointing but not touching. "The skin there... it moves?"
Ashok glanced down, suddenly aware of what had caught her attention. The foreskin of his penis had partially retracted as he grew harder, but wasn't fully drawn back.
"That's called foreskin," he explained, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten as he slipped into an educational tone. "Not all men have it. In America, many babies have it removed at birth...it's called circumcision. But in India, most ***** families don't practice that."
Latha tilted her head, studying the anatomy before her with genuine fascination. "Does it move when you touch it?" she asked, her curiosity only deepening.
Ashok inhaled sharply. "Yes. It's very sensitive. It pulls back naturally when..." he paused, searching for appropriate words, "when I become fully aroused."
Latha's gaze remained fixed on his growing manhood, watching as the foreskin gradually retracted further, revealing more of the smooth, glistening head beneath. The intimate biology lesson had taken an unexpected turn, yet neither seemed able to break away from this forbidden moment of discovery.
"May I..." she began hesitantly, looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "May I see how it moves?"
The question hung between them, charged with implications neither was fully prepared to acknowledge. Ashok knew they were crossing boundaries that should remain sacred, yet found himself nodding almost imperceptibly.
"Just... be gentle," he whispered.

“Oh.. you want me to move it?” She asked surprised. 

Ashok's heart raced as he shook his head. "No, I meant... I can show you." His voice was barely audible over the rain's steady drumming against the windows.
With trembling fingers, he reached down and gently pulled the foreskin back, revealing the sensitive glans beneath. The intimate demonstration sent a jolt of pleasure through his body, and his manhood twitched visibly in response.
"See how it protects the most sensitive part?" he explained, his voice strained as he fought to maintain a clinical tone. "When aroused, it naturally retracts."
Latha nodded, her eyes wide with fascination. The educational pretense was wearing increasingly thin, but she clung to it like a lifeline. "And the condom goes over all of this?"
"Yes," Ashok replied, grateful for the return to their original purpose.

“It’s s shame you’d hide this with a condom” her gazed transfixed on his pink cock head. It.. it looks beautiful. She stammered.

Ashok felt his throat tighten at her unexpected compliment. No woman had ever called that part of him beautiful before...certainly not Vanitha, who approached sex with clinical precision. The sincerity in Latha's voice made his heart race faster.

"Thank you," he managed, his voice barely audible over the rain.

Latha's gaze remained fixed on his exposed manhood, studying every detail with innocent wonder. The head was smooth and glistening, the color reminding her of ripe plums from her mother's garden. A small bead of clear fluid had formed at the tip, catching the dim light from the window.
"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the droplet.
Ashok followed her gaze, embarrassment mingling with arousal. "That's... pre-ejaculate. It happens when a man is excited." He swallowed hard.

“Are you excited, Anna?” 

Ashok's face flushed deeper at her direct question. The pretense of education was crumbling with each passing moment, replaced by something far more dangerous.
"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I am."
Latha's gaze remained fixed on his manhood, which had now grown to its full size under her attention. The innocence in her eyes mingled with something new...a flicker of desire she herself didn't fully understand.

“Pre-ejacula… what?” 

"Pre-ejaculate," Ashok explained, his voice taking on a professorial tone despite the intimate circumstances. "It's a fluid that comes out before..." He trailed off, unsure how clinical to be.
"Before the actual cum?" Latha asked, the English word sounding foreign yet oddly natural on her tongue. She had heard it from her cousins' whispered conversations, though she'd never fully understood its meaning until now.
Ashok nodded, surprised by her frankness. "Yes, exactly. It helps with... lubrication."
A small crease appeared between Latha's brows as she studied the glistening droplet with fascination. The scientific curiosity in her expression was at odds with the intimacy of the moment, creating a dissonance that only heightened Ashok's arousal.

“The droplet, is.. is it sticky..? Anna, if.. if you don’t mind…”

Ashok hesitated, caught between desire and restraint. The line they were approaching seemed impossibly far beyond what was appropriate, yet he found himself nodding slightly. "You can... touch it if you want. Just be gentle."
Latha's hand trembled as she reached forward. Her fingertip touched the clear droplet with reverent care, drawing back with the glistening fluid connected by a thin, translucent thread. She examined it with wide-eyed wonder, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger.
"It is sticky," she whispered, her voice filled with discovery. "But smooth too. Like honey, but thinner."
The clinical observation delivered in her innocent voice sent a jolt of electricity through Ashok's body. His manhood twitched visibly, causing Latha to pull her hand back in surprise.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked, concerned.

"No, not at all," Ashok said quickly. "It's just... sensitive. That's a natural reaction. Just seeing you play with my pre-cum made me more excited, that.. that’s why it twitched.."

She felt flushed realizing the effect she has on him.. “so if I do this.. will it twitch again?” She pulled her fingers apart and close to her nose to smell.

Ashok's breath hitched as Latha's delicate fingers separated, the thin strand of pre-cum stretching between them like gossamer. She brought it to her nose with the innocent curiosity of a child examining a strange new substance, yet the action sent waves of forbidden desire coursing through Ashok's body.
"It doesn't smell like much," she observed, her voice soft with wonder. "Just a little... musky."
His manhood twitched violently in response, the movement making Latha's eyes widen. A look of feminine power briefly flashed across her face...the first awakening of understanding that her presence, her touch, her very gaze had tangible effects on his body.
"Yes," Ashok managed, his voice strained. "That happens when... when I'm very aroused."
Latha's lips parted slightly as she processed this information.

“Did.. did I make it twitch, Anna?”

Ashok's throat tightened as he nodded, unable to deny the obvious truth. "Yes," he whispered. "You did that."
A subtle transformation came over Latha's face...the faintest hint of feminine power flickering behind her innocence. She had never before witnessed the effect she could have on a man's body, and the knowledge both frightened and exhilarated her.
"And the condom?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the steady drumming of rain. "It would hide all of this feeling?"
"Yes," Ashok replied, his breathing shallow. "That's why I never felt... complete... with Vanitha."
Latha's gaze returned to his manhood, which stood proud and insistent between them. Another bead of pre-cum had formed at the tip, larger than before. The sight awakened something primal within her...a curious need to explore, to understand fully what was happening between them.
"Can I touch it again?" she asked, her voice soft yet steady.
Ashok knew they had crossed a line, yet found himself unable to retreat. "Yes," he whispered.
With delicate care, Latha reached out, her fingers hovering momentarily before gently touching the shaft. She marveled at the contrast...the hardness beneath, covered by skin so surprisingly soft. The warmth surprised her most of all; it radiated heat like a living thing with its own heartbeat.
"It's so warm," she murmured, her fingers exploring the length with tentative strokes. "And I can feel it pulse, Anna."
Ashok's head fell back slightly, eyes half-closed as pleasure coursed through him. "That's... that's my heartbeat you feel," he managed to explain.

The foreskin shifted slightly under her grip, and she felt Ashok's entire body tense.
"Like this?" she asked, her eyes seeking his for guidance.

When Latha's fingers wrapped around his shaft, the foreskin slid unexpectedly beneath her touch. The soft skin glided over the rigid flesh beneath, and Ashok's eyes immediately fluttered closed, his head tilting back as a soft gasp escaped his lips. The sensation was electric, far more intense than he had anticipated from her inexperienced touch.
"Oh!" Latha exclaimed, surprised by both the movement beneath her fingers and Ashok's intense reaction. She loosened her grip slightly, watching with fascination as the foreskin shifted back to partially cover the glistening head. "The skin moves so easily. Does that... does that feel good when it slides like that?"
Ashok could barely form words, his breath coming in shallow pants. The innocent exploration of her fingers was already bringing him dangerously close to the edge. "Yes," he managed to whisper.

Latha was captivated by the physical response she had elicited. This newfound power made her heart race with a mixture of fear and excitement. She had never imagined that her mere presence, her touch, could have such a profound effect on a man's body.
"The condom would prevent all these feelings?" she asked again, her voice a whisper.
"Most of them," Ashok confirmed, his breathing shallow and uneven. "It's like... experiencing something beautiful through a thick window instead of standing in the open air."

“That’s a big difference! Should we try the condom on?” Latha said, her voice filled with renewed purpose as she remembered the original reason for their intimate exploration.
Ashok blinked, as if awakening from a trance. The educational pretense they had started with...had it really been only thirty minutes ago?...suddenly returned to him. With trembling fingers, he reached for the foil packet on the coffee table.
"Yes, of course," he said, his voice thick. "The condom demonstration."
The rain continued to drum against the windows as he tore open the packet. His hands were unsteady, and he fumbled slightly with the slippery latex. Latha watched with rapt attention, her eyes never leaving his movements as he positioned the condom over the tip of his erection.
"You have to leave a little space at the top… for the... um, semen," Ashok explained as he pinched the reservoir tip. He positioned the condom over his swollen head, but as he tried to roll it down, his face flushed with embarrassment. "You've gotten it too big," he said, struggling with the tight latex. "Now it may be hard to pull the condom over."
Latha's cheeks bloomed with color as the implication of his words registered. She had caused this...her curiosity, her innocent touches had made him grow beyond what he had anticipated. The knowledge sent an unexpected thrill through her body, a strange pride mingled with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, though she wasn't entirely sure why she was apologizing. There was something powerful in knowing she had affected him so profoundly.
Ashok continued to struggle with the condom, his fingers slipping on his tightness.

"Let me help," Latha said, leaning forward with determined focus. Her delicate fingers reached for the rolled edge of the condom where Ashok struggled. She gently took it from his trembling hands, her movements hesitant but purposeful.
"You need to be gentle with it," she murmured, repeating what she had observed. Her fingers worked with surprising deftness for someone who had never handled such an item before.
As her hand wrapped around his shaft to steady it, she gasped softly. Without the barrier of latex between them, she could feel the heat of him pulsing against her palm, the velvety skin sliding subtly over the rigid core beneath. The intimate contact sent a flutter of something unfamiliar through her body...a warmth that bloomed low in her belly and spread outward.
"Hold it still," she instructed herself as much as him, her voice barely audible as she carefully unrolled the condom down his length.
The sensation of her fingers through the thin latex made Ashok shudder. Even with this barrier between them, her touch felt electric, forbidden. He watched her face as she worked...the slight furrow of concentration between her brows, the parted lips, the complete absorption in her task. Something about her earnestness made his chest tighten with an emotion he couldn't name.
"There," Latha said with quiet triumph as she finished rolling the condom to the base. She sat back on her heels, studying her handiwork with a mixture of pride and curiosity. "Now I understand. It covers everything."
Ashok nodded, unable to speak. The condom felt restrictive, clinical...a stark reminder of all the times with Vanitha. The contrast was stark...the warmth of her touch versus the clinical barrier that now separated them.
"So this is how it feels?" Latha asked, her voice quiet with contemplation. She ran a single finger along the latex-covered length, noting how it felt different...smoother, more artificial than the natural warmth she had touched moments before.
"Yes," Ashok replied, his voice strained. "It changes everything. The sensation is... dulled."
Latha studied his expression, fascinated by the conflict she saw there. Without fully understanding why, she felt an unexpected sadness for him...for the years of intimacy experienced only through this barrier. Something about the vulnerability in his eyes made her heart ache.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock covered with condom and tried to move… “I see I can’t feel your skin, Anna.. I can imagine you can’t feel my soft fingers either..”

"Should we take it off?" she asked softly, her eyes never leaving his. "To see the difference?"
Ashok's breath caught in his throat. The rain outside had intensified, creating a private world where only they existed. The sound of water striking glass muffled all other noises, sealing them in this bubble of forbidden intimacy.

"Yes," Ashok whispered, his voice barely audible. The simple word hung between them, charged with meaning that transcended the clinical demonstration they had begun with.
With gentle fingers, Latha grasped the base of the condom and carefully rolled it back up, her movements deliberate and reverent. The latex clung stubbornly in places, requiring her to work slowly. Each brush of her fingertips against his skin sent waves of sensation through Ashok's body, making his breath catch.
When she finally removed the condom completely, both of them stared at his exposed manhood, now fully engorged and glistening with a mixture of pre-cum and the condom's lubricant. The contrast was stark...his flesh looked more alive, more vibrant without the clinical sheath covering it.
"Now I understand," Latha whispered, her eyes wide with comprehension.

Latha set the used condom aside on a tissue, her attention never straying from his manhood. There was a newfound reverence in her gaze, as if she finally understood something profound about the intimacy between men and women. The clinical pretense that had started their encounter had evolved into something far more meaningful...a shared vulnerability that transcended mere curiosity.
"I can see why you felt... disconnected... with Akka," she said softly. Her fingers hovered just inches from his exposed flesh, the warmth between them palpable even without contact. "To have this barrier always between you."
"Anna… may… may I touch it again?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of hesitation and desire that surprised even her. This wasn't merely clinical curiosity anymore; something deeper stirred within her, a primal need to connect with him in this forbidden way.
Ashok swallowed hard, his reason and desire locked in silent combat. He knew they had crossed a threshold from which they couldn't return, yet found himself nodding almost imperceptibly. "Yes," he whispered, the single syllable hanging in the humid air between them.
Latha's fingers reached out with newfound confidence, gently wrapping around his shaft. The heat of his flesh against her palm sent a shiver through her body, awakening sensations she had never experienced before. She marveled at the contrast...the rigid core beneath skin so surprisingly soft and responsive. 
"I feel the difference.." she said, her voice barely audible over the rain.
Another droplet formed at the tip of his manhood, larger and more insistent than before. Latha watched it with fascination, her lips slightly parted. The rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, creating a private world where normal boundaries seemed distant and irrelevant.

"Anna, what would it feel like?" Latha whispered, her eyes fixed on the glistening droplet. Something deep within her stirred...a curiosity that transcended the educational pretense they had begun with. "If I were to taste it?"
The question hung in the air between them, charged with implications neither had fully anticipated. Ashok's breathing grew shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.