Greetings, friends! Today, I visited this website after a long time and read a few interesting and not-so-interesting stories. Only a handful of them seemed genuine. Those true stories inspired me to write this piece.
After reading this story, you will understand my perspective of sex, lovemaking, or what we commonly refer to as fucking. Feel free to share your thoughts with me via email at [email protected].
I am about 33 years old and married. I’ve noticed a shift from the youthful innocence and charm I possessed in my 20s. I find myself seeking genuine connections with individuals who appreciate the depth of life’s moments. I long for meaningful friendships. I can openly share the joys and challenges of life.
In our daily lives, we primarily converse in Kannada. However, most of the conversations in this particular story were in Kannada and English. I have attempted to translate them into English, although it may not be a flawless endeavour. I am simply sharing my own experience.
I’m uncertain whether I should categorize this as a sex story or something else. Because, first and foremost, it is not a story for me. Additionally, it does not revolve around excessive lust and passion for sex.
Instead, it recounts a significant and unforgettable experience in my life—a profound connection I formed with someone.
My name is Sanjay, and this is the tale of Bhavana and me. I reside in Mysore and take great pride in being a part of our close-knit community. Our neighbourhood is one of the oldest in the area, where everyone knows one another.
I was brought here when I was just three years old. My memories begin around the age of five. At that time, I had a group of friends of similar age in the neighbourhood, and Bhavana was among them. She is the daughter of Shobha aunty, who happens to be a close friend of my mother.
Our families were very close, particularly the two women who were like sisters. There were other children in the neighbourhood, such as Pankaj, Gauri, Mahesh, Renu, and many more. Although I have only vague recollections of that period, according to my mother, Bhavana and I were good friends.
We always stuck together during our playtime. In a lighthearted manner, my father used to joke that he would marry me to Bhavana since we were always seen together. Time passed, and we both grew up in a loving and caring environment. We were the only children in our respective families.
I believe we maintained a strong friendship until the fifth grade. After that, we became aware of our genders, but it didn’t mean we stopped seeing each other or talking. We ended up in separate groups during our playtime. This awareness continued to grow as we got older, but we remained good friends.
Back then, I wasn’t conscious of my feelings. But looking back now, it’s evident that I was attracted to Bhavana from the very beginning. I distinctly remember my school years. Always attempt to catch a glimpse of her, whether from my terrace or while passing by her house.
Whenever I looked at her, she would smile, and on a couple of occasions, I even waved to say hello, to which she responded in kind. During that time, catching a glimpse of her smile was enough to bring joy to my entire day. It wasn’t because she was beautiful.
In fact, if I were to describe Bhavana’s appearance and personality, I would say she was average. She wasn’t fair-skinned, but she wasn’t dark either. She wasn’t thin, nor did she have a heavy build. She was an ordinary girl—average height, average looks, good at studies, talkative, kind-hearted, and friendly.
She laughed a lot, with loud and open-hearted laughter. During our final year of school, her father passed away. It was a devastating moment for her, her family, and everyone connected to them, including me and my family. At that young age, I didn’t know how to react, and I lacked the courage to face her.
I was present during that challenging period in her life, but I remained in the background. Even today, I feel remorseful about my behaviour at that time, perhaps due to my lack of confidence. Time continued to move forward, and we gradually accepted the realities of life.
After completing our respective professional training, she pursued a B.Ed. Degree, while I decided to learn the Chinese language. We continued to encounter each other as we did before—sometimes on the road, at the nearby market, or for other casual reasons.
We had a few conversations about movies, careers, and other ordinary topics. Bhavana shared her reasons for entering the teaching profession, explaining that she loved children and always desired to be around them. This wasn’t news to me. I had seen her with young babies from our neighbourhood multiple times.
Life was more or less smooth for both of us. We completed our courses. I joined a Taiwan-based company as an interpreter. The company manufactured and sold machines. When their technicians came to our location for machine installations, I had to facilitate communication between them and the locals.
Bhavana, on the other hand, secured a teaching position as she had always desired. Around the age of 25, I received news that Bhavana’s marriage had been arranged. Her prospective groom was a green card holder living in the United States and working for a multinational bank.
He was financially stable and belonged to the same Brahmin caste. His parents resided in Mysore, and the proposal came through one of Bhavana’s relatives. This is what my mother informed me. I felt a sense of sadness without knowing why.
At that time, I couldn’t say that I was in love with Bhavana or anything of the sort. But I felt uneasy at the thought of her leaving. Perhaps I was jealous, and I also longed for someone to love or share my life with. But it seemed distant since I wasn’t in a position to get married.
I earned a good income, but it wasn’t consistent. I suppressed all these emotions within me. Just a few days later, I met Bhavana at my place and wished her well. I mentioned that it was now the time for her to start her own family. She accepted my wishes with a smile and confirmed her love for children.
She shared details about her future husband, his profession, nature, and lifestyle. She seemed happy and content. For me, time flew by. Before I knew it, the day arrived when she got married. I attended all the ceremonies, and eventually, she flew to the US with her husband.
My life continued on track, albeit with a tinge of sadness. Gradually, I settled down a bit and became a regular employee at the company, earning a reasonable income. Bhavana became a part of my past. Not that I forgot about her, but she had less of an impact on my emotions.
I occasionally received updates about her from my mother. I was always interested in hearing news from Bhavana’s side, particularly about her motherhood. However, I never received even a hint of such news.
During that time, I remember browsing through some porn sites and reading stories, including the ones on this site. It would excite me. At times, I would visualize Bhavana getting seduced by her husband. It had been nearly two years since I last saw Bhavana.
But her face and features remained vivid in my memory. This was the age when I truly desired a partner and wanted to get married. Bhavana was the only girl I was in touch with, so naturally, thoughts of her filled my mind. My mother had already begun searching for a prospective daughter-in-law.
Shobha aunty, Bhavana’s mother, insisted on arranging a meeting at their house. My mother agreed, as such meetings usually took place elsewhere. Dinner was planned, and both my mother and Shobha aunty were busy with the preparations.
Unfortunately, around 7 p.m., Shobha aunty collapsed, leading to the cancellation of the entire program. We rushed her to the hospital as it was a minor BP attack. She had not taken her medication for the past few days and had overworked herself while preparing for dinner.
There was a situation where we bore responsibility, and my mother was deeply saddened by it. I had to spend nearly a week in the hospital at night. After a week, my mother returned home. I finally met the girl I was supposed to meet ten days earlier. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out between us.
During my work trip, I learned that Bhavana had arrived to visit her mother. I desired to meet her. But I found myself in a similar state of helplessness as when her father passed away. It was a peculiar feeling. I noticed that I was always powerless in such situations.
That day, I chose to ignore it and went to my friend’s place in the morning. By the evening, I had prepared myself to meet Bhavana. I arrived at her house, where my mother was already present with Shobha aunty. However, Bhavana was not there.
I engaged in conversation with aunty for a while and asked about Bhavana. She had gone to the nearby park for a walk. She also shared that Bhavana seemed unhappy and was concealing something. Aunty had tried to broach the topic of Bhavana’s married life multiple times, but she always avoided the conversation.
Aunty then requested me to ask her about it without mentioning that she had asked me to do so. Although I knew that I lacked the courage to delve into her personal life, I agreed to give it a try. After leaving the house, I headed to the nearby park to find Bhavana.
She was there, playing with young children using a large inflatable plastic ball. I stood there, simply wanting to see her. She appeared happy as she interacted with the kids. After a while, she noticed me standing there and greeted me with a smile. I waved back, and she raised her hand in response.
A few minutes later, she approached me, greeted me with a smile, and we exchanged hellos. She appeared more mature than when I had last seen her, with some changes in her physical appearance. We shook hands and walked along the park’s outer path, engaging in casual conversation.
It was a typical discussion about when she arrived and how my professional life was progressing. I asked about her own life, and she mentioned that it was okay. At that moment, I realized that her mother was right in sensing that she wasn’t the same as before. She used to be talkative, but now she seemed reserved.
Curious, I asked her how long she planned to stay in India. She replied that it wasn’t fixed and that she wanted to spend some time with her mother. Our conversation then shifted to her mother’s health, and after a while, she thanked me for what I had done for her mother.
I reassured her that there was no need to thank me, as it was simply my duty. She then asked if there was anything she could do for me to show her gratitude. She mentioned her desire to thank me somehow, and I noticed tears welling up in her eyes.
We were walking on the park’s outer path. I attempted to console her by placing my hand on her shoulder. I assured her that everything would be alright. But in an instant, she burst into tears, unable to control herself. I asked if she wanted to go home. She pointed to a bench, suggesting we sit there for a while.
We sat in silence, watching the children playing. After some time, I saw a smile appear on her face as she observed their activities. I then informed her about a new shopping mall nearby that she might be interested in visiting. However, she expressed disinterest in shopping malls and similar places.
I then suggested going to Chamundi Hills, but she preferred to stay home with her mother. I persisted. She agreed but said she needed to ask her mother first. I was fine with that because I knew Shobha aunty would gladly allow it. I asked aunty if I could take Bhavana to Mysore Haat the following evening.
She agreed, as I had expected. The entire episode of two hours felt like a dream to me. I had never spent such a long time with Bhavana. That night, I couldn’t sleep, restless with thoughts revolving around her. I mentally prepared myself for the next day, contemplating what I would say and what we would eat.
It felt like a dream date, and she was the girl I had always wanted to be with. I admit that on that night, I fantasized about making love to her. The next evening, I took my father’s car and went to her house to meet her mother. From there, we embarked on what I considered to be a date.
At that moment, it still felt like a dream as we conversed casually, reminiscing about our childhood and school days. Within 10-15 minutes, we reached our destination and spent over an hour exploring the place. We made a few purchases and then decided to have a meal.
We ate and continued talking. It didn’t feel easy, but I managed to ask if she was happy with her life. She fell silent, and I thought she didn’t appreciate me asking such a question. I quickly apologized if it made her uncomfortable. She reassured me it was okay and that her mother asked her the same question daily.
Her reply brought tears to her eyes once again. I remarked that if her mother could sense something amiss, then there must be something. Bhavana confided that she couldn’t discuss the matter with anyone. At that point, I didn’t know what else to say.
I felt somewhat confident. But I didn’t possess the courage to intrude into her problem. All I could do was make guesses. I asked if the issue was related to the child. But she denied it, insisting that everything was fine. I urged her to at least talk to her mother about it, even if she didn’t want to confide in me.
She fell silent once more. She replied that she couldn’t bring herself to do so. I inquired if there was something wrong between her and Sumit (her husband). But she pleaded with me to change the topic, expressing her reluctance to discuss it.
I agreed to change the subject, and we continued exploring the items on sale. Bhavana picked out a men’s kurta and asked if I wanted it. I declined, explaining that I didn’t typically wear kurtas. However, she insisted on buying it as a gift for me.
At that moment, I gently requested Bhavana to disclose the matter troubling her. I assured her that if she felt it was inappropriate for me to intervene, I would respect her decision. Nevertheless, I expressed my discomfort upon learning about her distress.
She replied, “Okay, first you need to accept this. After that, I will consider sharing the details.” I agreed, emphasizing that her happiness was paramount to me. I also mentioned that I had something to offer her but suggested she choose it herself as my taste was not reliable.
Her face brightened, and she selected a top for herself. We split the payment and left the store. During our journey back, I inquired if she had pondered over the matter. She responded, “Please, Sanjay, let’s discuss it another day.” I agreed and proposed going for a morning walk.
She agreed to accompany me. That night, however, I found it difficult to relax. Despite sleeping well, my mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and assumptions. I maintained my conviction that there was an issue, and she would eventually confide in me.
As the night wore on, my thoughts became more provocative. In my imagination, I constructed a narrative surrounding her problem. Thinking that she lacked sufficient physical intimacy and was sexually unsatisfied with her husband.
Succumbing to my fantasies, I engaged in self-pleasure while envisioning providing her with sexual gratification. As planned, I arrived at her place around 5:30 a.m., where she was already prepared. We headed to Kukkaralli Kere, a large lake in Mysore, to enjoy the fresh morning air.
Bhavana appeared refreshed and vibrant. I aimed to spend quality time with her, refraining from discussing the issue during our walk. We engaged in light conversation. Bhavana appreciated the time we spent together. While I relished her company, a sense of unease persisted due to her undisclosed problem.
After our walk, I had to tend to some errands and remained occupied for the entire day. By the time I returned home, it was already 9 p.m. I called Bhavana to inquire about our plans for the next morning. She expressed her desire to go for a walk but preferred to stay close by.
Thus, we decided to stroll in the nearby park. We leisurely wandered while engaging in casual conversation. Eventually, I mustered the courage to ask her about her promise to reveal her problem. She explained that she was prepared to speak but suggested we meet in the evening so as not to ruin the entire day.
We returned home after some time. In the evening, around 5 o’clock, we met on her terrace. Despite initial hesitation, she mustered the courage to confess that her husband was involved in extramarital affairs. I inquired about the extent of his affairs, to which she replied, “I don’t know.”
Curious about how she discovered his infidelity, she merely stated that she knew it to be true without providing further details. Shocked and confused, I urged her to reveal the entire truth. Tearfully, she looked at me and confessed that she would never return to him and didn’t want to see him again.
Accepting her decision, I persisted in understanding the complete story. Then I asked her how she knew that he was having an affair. She replied that she just knew and insisted it was the truth. I was shocked and, more importantly, confused. It was evident that she was still withholding something.
I urged her, “Bhavana, please tell me the complete story. I’m having trouble understanding.” She glanced at me, tears welling up in her eyes. She said, “I won’t go back, and I don’t want to see him again.” I accepted her decision but pressed for the whole truth.
With a heavy sigh, she confessed that it was incredibly difficult for her to speak about it. Trying to piece things together, I asked if he had physically abused her. She remained silent, and I assumed my guess was correct. I inquired once more, and this time, she quietly affirmed it.
Her voice was barely audible before breaking down into tears. It was clear that there was more to the story. I could sense it from her demeanour. I prodded further, asking what else had transpired. She turned her face downward without uttering a word, her tears streaming down.
In a trembling voice, she mentioned that sometimes he would come home drunk. As she spoke, her voice was accompanied by sniffling. I questioned her once more, asking with whom he was having an affair. She replied, “I don’t know.” I found myself in a state of utter confusion.
How could she be certain he was having an affair if she didn’t know with whom? She remained silent. I insisted once again, “Tell me, Bhavana.” In a barely audible voice, she began to speak. She revealed that her husband was involved in a group that engaged in partner swapping and sexual activities.
I was completely taken aback, my mind overwhelmed. I had read stories and seen movies depicting such scenarios, but I still found it difficult to believe that it could happen in real life. She continued to cry, and I felt a profound sense of anguish.
I wanted to assure her that what we read or see in fictional tales is far from the truth. For a woman, it is extremely challenging to discuss her intimate life with anyone. I understood the courage it took for her to confide in me.
Continued in the next part, email me your feedback at jaanu143chinnu@gmail.