Lunch was over. Srikala was clearing the table; her husband of a fortnight Vasanth was reclining on the sofa feeling pleasantly replete. It was a splendid meal. For his wife, one only recently out of college, to produce a meal of this quality was surprising. The biriyani was done just the way Vasanth liked it with the rice not discrete as professional cooks like to prepare, but overcooked to just that stickiness to fully soak in the spices; tikka chicken hot but not too hot, and the payasam to end the meal, thick but not creamy, with raisins and cashew not bothering you at every bite but appearing just when you need them. The dishes were his favourite ones too. In short it was a perfect lunch. He wondered if all this could have happened by chance.
"No way," said Srikala when he queried her, "Athai (Tamil for mother-in-law) not only told me your favourites, but also how you liked them done. And to avoid one more question let me tell you that I cook well because I love to cook."
"What more can a husband want?"
"There is more," she said.
"More?"
"Much more."
"Much more?"
"Much much more. You have to wait." It was all pleasantly mysterious.
It was a traditionally arranged match. Srikala was from the hill station of Coonoor four hundred miles from Chennai in South India. It was Vasanth's uncle from Coonoor who brought the offer. This uncle reckoned that Vasanth's father's distant cousin's daughter was a good match for Vasanth. Any friend or relative can bring offers, and most consider it a duty and a pleasure to do so. As the initiators they are made much of during the wedding. They strut about like peacocks, and cherish the success in the manner of big-game hunters after a successful shoot. The parents of the boy and the girl now have to 'process' the offer. Vasanth's parents were satisfied with the socio-economic status and the reputation of the family. The age of the girl at twenty-two was just right, and her qualifications were good too. She was a graduate in English language and literature. The girl's people were looking for much the same features in the boy plus the critical factor of the vocation of the boy. He was a mechanical engineer, and that was good. The uncle arranged the date for girl to meet the boy. The place of the meeting as per tradition was the home of the girl. Soon Vasanth and his parents were on their way to Coonoor.
Vasanth's parents liked the neat cottage the uncle took them to. Soon they were all comfortably reclining on sofas in the hall. The hall in South Indian middle class homes is the family room and living room combined. The parents of the girl and an uncle were there. Uncles are needed in such meetings for parents in their anxiety to do the best for their children are not usually able to balance the pros and cons correctly. The girl will not be present at his stage. She would come later. They talked about everything other than what had brought them to the place. After fifteen minutes the mother of the girl suggested that they have snacks and coffee. Snacks on these occasions are usually dry items. It is inauspicious to wash hands. Tension in the room was mounting for this was the time for the girl to appear carrying the tray with coffee.
She came with measured treads for to overturn the tray may not be a good idea. The girl looked coyly down as instructed by her mother; the boy was at liberty to look, but his mother had told him not to stare 'for the eyes of her parents would be on you'. First she served the seniors and then finally the boy. She looked up and they made the first eye contact. The girl took a seat next to him on a chair kept vacant for her, and set at an angle so that they face each other and talk. They spoke a few words. Later both said they had no recollection of what they spoke. After another fifteen minutes of pointless chatting the visitors took leave.
People brought up in cultures where arranged matches are unknown would be surprised that a commitment lasting for life could be arrived at after so cursory a visit. It was not cursory by any means. Before the meeting the parents analyse the offer in great detail. Vasanth's father made extensive enquiries of everyone he knew in the Nilgiri Hills where Coonoor was located, and from his other relatives who knew the family. Srikala's parents, as parents of the girl, made even more searching enquiries. Later in the uncle's house where Vasanth's family was staying as his guest the following conversation took place:
"They are OK," said father. "The girl would suit our Vasanth."
"No encumbrances," said mother. "Their only daughter is married and has two lovely children. Srikala's mother showed me the snap. She lives near New York." Unmarried sisters of the girl belong to the category of encumbrances. Srikala had no brothers. If present Vasanth's mother would not have classed them encumbrances. "Quite a pretty girl," she added.
"The only issue is they have no sons," said father. In the absence of sons the daughters have to look after the aging parents. As Vasanth was their only child the father did not look forward to the probability of spending his last days in the company of his son's father-in-law and mother-in-law.
"Of course if they get their green cards they can live in the States." It was Vasanth speaking.
"Vasanth likes the girl. He has already started defending his in-laws," said father and both husband and wife laughed. In due course the uncle informed them that the girl's party was willing too.
If Srikala was a Chennai dweller Vasanth would certainly have got to know her better by visiting her in her home, and may be taking her to the beach and even a movie or two; but Coonoor was too far away and they had to keeping in touch by emails. The uncle who brought about the alliance had more to do. He will be the conduit for information from to-be-bride's people to Vasanth's parents, and back to them. The marriage has to be in the brides place and the boy's people have to indicate the number of invitees for whom the bride's party must make arrangements. The parties have to discuss and decide about sari selection, jewels and many other details. Amidst these ancient customs there was a modern one that uncle promptly attended to: He gave Srikala's email ID to Vasanth.
Vasanth got the ball rolling. They had three weeks to fill. His opening email was formal, may be too formal. But he did attach his photograph and requested her to send hers. He of course had the photograph they had sent even before the bride viewing, but after seeing her in person he did not think that the photograph did justice to her. He hinted as much in the letter. The reply did not come as early as Vasanth could have wished, but when it did Srikala had her photo attached to it. Vasanth worked the picture in Photoshop and swiftly concluded that one cannot gild rose. Emails from once a day quickly shot to several a day, and nights too. It was mostly about themselves they wrote. Significantly no endearing sentiments found a place in these letters. It did not belong to the category of letters that wives in Western culture tie with a blue (or is it pink) ribbon and keep secure under the clothes in the dresser.
One afternoon Vasanth and his parents went to George Town in Chennai to select the card to print the invitations. There were scores of shops in one street all stacked from floor to ceiling with varieties of designs to suit every taste. Selection was difficult, but on Vasanth's insistence, father selected a simple design. Vasanth took it to the printer and from hundreds of samples the printer had in his albums he selected a neat font. Meanwhile the list of recipients was ready. Distribution was another difficult task. Both father and mother must personally visit senior members of the family and hand over the invitation. To some it is enough if one of them hands it over. To some postal invitation is adequate but a phone call reminder is necessary. The rest will be satisfied with postal invitations. Personal invitation is a double-edged sword; those so honoured have to attend, or to avoid causing ill feelings they have to furnish a good reason for not attending.
The arrangements went on without a hitch. As Coonoor was a small town the crowds were manageable, and Coonoor being a hill station had the added advantage that one can don Western style suit with jacket and tie with comfort.
It was past ten when Vasanth and his bride got into a car that was to take them to Mudumalai Wild Life Sanctuary Rest House on the other side of the mountain for a three-day honeymoon arranged by Srikala's father, a retired forest officer. The couple received a warm welcome from the hotel and soon they were in the room, alone and by themselves for the first time.
Vasanth watched with fascination as Srikala set about arranging the room. She opened his suitcase very much to his momentary surprise, and picked up a couple of shirts and pants and hung them in the wardrobe. She then opened her case and selected two saris and blouses and hung them besides her husband's. Vasanth was thrilled to see his clothes hanging by the side of hers. She did some rearranging of the contents of the two suitcases. She turned round and saw the smile on his face.
"What's that smile for?" she asked.
"Anyone watching you would think that we two have been regularly travelling together. They would not guess that we hardly know each other."
"Funny that the same thought should have occurred to me. Do you know why?"
"You tell me."
"That is because we are married with the active participation of our parents and relatives and friends. We may be strangers but we belong to each other and so we behave that way."
"I get your point," said Vasanth, "Westerners are never able to understand our arranged match system. How can one suddenly love a person one hardly knows they ask. The key as you said is that we are married. Arrange a match for man and woman from western culture and get them married in a church in the presence of friends and relatives, and I am sure they would behave very much as we do."
"It would be quite terrified to be a European or American woman."
"Terrified, how?"
"You go out with a young man whose intentions are quite unknown. Hovering constantly in the background of your mind is the worry that he may be just using you and would flit to the next flower soon. To me that is quite terrifying."
"What about this. Two hours ago your father was responsible for you. Now I am. Does this not appear strange?"
"It does. Quite out of the blue you are all-in-all to me and..."
"And what?" said Vasanth smiling as if challenging her to complete what she had started to say. Srikala was looking down coyly, and then she looked up firmly into his eyes and smiled.
"And our children," she said, and fell into her husband's open arms, and they kissed fiercely. It lasted quite a while. Finally they separated—as lovers. It takes only a minute or two for husband and wife in an arranged match to become lovers.
"You go for your bath, darling," she said. Vasanth did no linger over his bath. He was out in quick time wearing a light blue lungi and matching shirt his wife had selected for him.
"I have coffee ready for you," she said. "Drink it while I have my bath."
"Coffee at eleven thirty in the night?" His eyes were twinkling with mischief. Srikala was fully up to it.
"If you want I can mix Ovaltine. I believe it gives one a dreamless sleep." Such a spirited response demanded a hug and a long kiss. Vasanth attended to that. She went in for a bath.
Srikala was conscious of the fact that she was seeing her body for the last time as a virgin. She soaped her vulva and poured warm water over it. It glistened after the early morning shave. She blushed when she thought of the polishing she had given her vulva in readiness of the first-night. Mothers do nothing at all to prepare their daughters for such a critical event in their lives. Every since she can remember her mother has been telling her that 'gentle ladies keep their thighs together'. Now suddenly she was singing a different tune. The last thing her mother whispered into her ears as she got into the car with Vasanth was, 'Do as he asks you to,' which would be to open out her thighs. The first time since Srikala came of age a man would be seeing her vulva, and she in turn would be seeing a naked man for the first time, and not just a naked man but one flaunting an erect penis in front of her eyes, and to cap it all she, though still a gentle lady, would be spreading her thighs as wide as they would go and he, with her whole hearted assistance, will be inserting his penis into her vagina. Can any turn around be so abrupt?
She wiped and put on a nightdress her sister had got for her from New York. In that land of the consumer, for the consumer and by the consumer they had clothes designed for every occasion. Even though the concept of the first-night is an anathema to Americans their shop shelves have nightdresses for that event—thin, semi translucent and opening at the front. Srikala had tried it on earlier and found the front flaps can be dangerously clumsy. She walked out carefully lest she display her treasure ahead of the designated time. Vasanth whistled and she, in spite of her best efforts blushed. But she responded cleverly.
"The timbre is certainly not that of a first wolf whistle," she said. He was not behind hand in his reply.
"When I think of those occasions I can kick myself for wasting such quality whistles on those poor specimens."
"Has the coffee revived you?"
"It has done more. I do not think I can sleep a wink tonight, "he said. "You have to fill up to keep pace with me." She poured a cup from the flask she had filled up earlier and sipped it. He waited for her to finish and then he took the tumbler from her hands and placed it on the table. Then he gently hugged her and holding her head against his chest he squeezed her cheek and then bent his head down and kissed her on the lips. His hands went to the large buttons on the nightdress. The top button came off at his touch. The buttonhole had clear signs of tampering.
"I like these wide button holes. They give no trouble at all," he said.
"My sister widened the buttonholes," said Srikala.
"I must thank her."
"No need to. I have done that already," said Srikala.
"Oh!"
Every Indian man expects to find his bride coy and uncooperative. Instead to their surprise they find them quite the reverse. Socially segregated from men they are, and untrained by their mothers in matters concerning sex, but either by instinct or from inputs from their friends or both they are quite ready to meet their husbands more than half way on the first-night challenges.
"Nice valley."
"It does not seem to merit a whistle."
"One can't whistle when one is breathless," said Vasanth surprised at his own cleverness. "Now let us see if your sister has been doing stretching exercises on the second button hole also." She had, and if the first button left him breathless the second got his knee wobbling. The flaps of the gown opened out to reveal two magnificent hemispheres. The half areolas were perfect. The nipples were still in hiding. He touched one hemisphere and spread his hand to cup one breast. It was incredibly soft under his palms with the nipple a spot of firmness. Srikala's eyes were open but she was looking away. He pressed her against his chest.
"The buttons are hurting me," she said.
"Sorry," he said rather abashed that his wife had to tell him to undress. He unbuttoned. His shirt buttons did not yield as readily as her nightdress buttons had.
"I wish I had a sister to attend to these button holes," he said trying to make the best of an embarrassing moment. Eventually his shirt was off. But he did not have the courage to let down his lungi. He held her against himself. He could feel her nightdress slipping down. To his surprise she made no attempt to hold it up. She was now quite naked. It was his turn. He loosened his lungi. It dropped. They hugged, their naked bodies rubbing each other exquisitely. They moved to the bed. She lay back. He was in a daze with no clear appreciation of what was happening. He was on top and she was lying with legs apart. He had to penetrate of that he was sure, but his penis was flaying about and there was no way he was going to align it to the vulva that he was vaguely able to discern. Srikala was in better control of events for she nonchalantly caught hold of his penis and gently plugged it into her vagina. Power was once again flowing into Vasanth. He pumped and he ejaculated. Srikala made responsive moments but Vasanth knew she was not experiencing any orgasm. He rolled over. They lay side by side hugging each other.
"Darling we are now truly man and wife," he said. She shook her head vigorously in agreement and buried her head on his chest. He held her head firmly between his hands and kissed her on the forehead.
She snoozed, but Vasanth lay awake. He liked to grade himself. His recent performance he had to admit was not worth more than five in a scale of one to ten. His wife's score he reckoned must be nine or even ten. He was amused rather than annoyed. Her face as she slept was innocent like a baby's, but she had enough spirit to catch hold of his penis and quite casually guide it in. He felt tender toward her. He kissed her on the cheek. She must have been half aware for she hugged him tighter. He held her in a tight embrace and snoozed. He woke up with a start. The hills were very cold in the night. Srikala must have covered them with a blanket. He felt her body. He felt her back and then her shoulder. She must have been awake for she turned round. He felt her breasts. He felt like uniting with her once again. But first he had to go to the bathroom. He washed himself and it was then that he noticed a sheet that was hanging to dry. Stains on it were visible. 'Blood,' he said to himself. He ran out.
"Have you bled darling," he said in an agitated voice.
"Nothing to worry dear, a little more than the usual."
"What usual?" he said still agitated.
"Come under the blanket. It is cold. " She pulled him in. "You are a sweet creature. Don't you know what it is?"
"Yes, I do now." He was much relieved and then quite smugly pleased. "Did I cause pain?"
"No, only pleasure. Still sleepy?"
"No way." He had to improve his grades. He got under the blanket and sought one nipple and started working on it. Srikala must have enjoyed the sensation for she was tenderly rubbing his cheeks. She moved him to the other nipple. On his own he went down on her, rubbing his lips and nose on the vulva and finally kissing it. Srikala pulled him up and as she did so she spread her thighs. She held his penis and once again inserted it into her vagina. This time they established some sort of rhythm to their movements, the pressure, and the counter pressure. Soon he ejaculated, and while he was doing so she held him tight and thrust her pelvis upwards to his rhythm. He rolled over. Soon both were soundly asleep.
When Vasanth awoke it was day. Srikala was no longer by his side. After her bath she was busy at the kitchenette. Get ready soon Vasanth we are going into the forest at nine. After bath they had breakfast. The jeep was ready at nine sharp. Vasanth was much impressed that the sanctuary staff still remembered their former chief, Srikala's father, with respect and affection. The forest ranger himself drove the jeep. Srikala knew this senior person from her childhood days; she called him uncle. They saw wild elephants, deer by the score, and guar, the largest of the world's cattle (wrongly called bison just as the true bison of North American is wrongly called buffalo).
"A tiger would round off our visit nicely uncle," said Srikala. But unfortunately even rangers cannot arrange tiger sighting to please a favourite niece. The ranger did the best he could. He took them to a dried pugmark near a stream.
"Tigress," said Srikala wanting to impress her husband with her knowledge of jungle lore.
"How can you say?"
"See it is elongated. Tiger's pugmarks larger and squarer. Is it Saradha's uncle?"
"No. Saradha has moved to Bandipur. (Another reserve that is continuous with Mudumalai.) This one is new to this forest."
"Are all tigers given names?" Vasanth wanted to know.
"No, Saradha was special. She often made herself visible to tourists. She was very popular for some years. I have seen her several times, and twice with her cubs." For Vasanth this was the first rub with nature in the raw, and he liked it.
After lunch they had the first daytime sex. The first floor room was sufficiently away from the main block to be secure for love making except if one does not mind langurs watching, which they seemed to be doing all the time from neighbouring trees. Srikala however drew the curtains. May be she knew the monkeys by name too.
Vasanth had it all planned. The key word for this afternoon session was foreplay. He wondered if Sree (he had started calling her that and not Kala as she her family did) would agree to be totally nude. To his joy she seemed to revel in nakedness. She had very sensitive nipples, and responded to his sucking with a peculiar clicking sound. He lay below at her crotch to examine her vulva, which he found very fascinating. He opened it out and peeped at the clitoris in its chamber. He plopped it out and reverentially kissed it. Sree not only spread out her thighs, but also held his head and with the tips of her fingers gently shampooed him. Vasanth concluded that India was Kama Sutra country because of its women.
He licked her clitoris and she responded. Her bottom first moved gently and then she speeded up but when Vasanth swiped, but she did not have orgasm. She pulled him and up and as per the now routine ritual inserted his penis in. He ejaculated, but still no orgasm for her. Vasanth from his readings knew that a couple has to work hard if the woman was to get orgasms, and work harder still to get them in unison. He was prepared to wait, and hoped that Sree was too.
Like couples in the rest of the world they tried various poses. First was the doggie. Sree on her knees and elbow was delightful to watch from behind. The vulva seen from behind was a different organ. Vasanth went close and licked the clitoris that was looking up at him. He tried to insert but failed to get his penis in alignment. Sree had to bend her back to get her vulva in the proper position. This time he inserted, but only the tip went in. Both agreed that the doggie was for dogs. Deep in his heart Vasanth know that to succeed the penis has to be much longer. But he kept the news to himself. Woman on top was easy insertion, and what is more the penis goes in all the way. But Sree was not up to lifting herself up and down with legs splayed out. Finally they decided that the man on top and woman on her back was best for it enabled them to feel the front of their naked bodies on each other, and kiss, hug and fondle.
Vasanth had always fantasised about the sixty-nine. He suggested, and she lay back with thighs spread and feet raised. Vasanth carefully placed his knees on either side of her and moved back in steps. Soon his mouth as against her vulva. He was licking, but Sree was playing with his penis and kissing it on the glans and the shaft but not letting it into her mouth. After some moments of it they gave up. He had to agree that in spite of much that was made of the 69 it was a difficult pose to handle.
The three days were over and soon they were on the way back as happy as any honeymooner can be. They settled in the flat, and on the very first Sunday Sree was sufficiently organised to offer her husband a dream lunch. But what was the super treat that was to follow?
Vasanth was waiting for the super dessert that his wife had promised. She took time to clear the able and clean up. To Vasanth it appeared as if she was deliberately slowing down to increase the tension. Finally she came.
"Come to the bedroom," she said. They moved to the bedroom. He sat on the cot and she stood in front and smiled a wry smile.
"I'll give you whatever you ask for," she said.
"Whatever?"
"That's right."
"I can't take advantage of your goodness. There is always the possibility that you may not be whole-heartedly for what I might ask."
'You are a considerate man. In that case I will give you what I feel you want but are diffident to ask. You need not feel bad about it for I assure you I like it too," said Sree kissing him. She unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. She loosened his lungi and pulled it off. She came close and turned round inviting him to undress her. Vasanth did so and soon they were both naked.
"Sit on the edge of the bed," she told Vasanth. She pulled a stool and sat in front. She took hold of his penis and rubbed it. It was erect and throbbing. She pressed it against her cheek and ran her lips up and down, and finally she kissed the glans. She then took it into her mouth. She moved her head forwards and backwards taking it almost out and then thrusting it till she almost gagged. Her eyes were glistening with pleasure. Soon both found the rhythm, and they worked on it slowly and then rapidly.
"Darling I am about to ejaculate," he said. There was a note of desperation in his voice as if giving her a last chance to back off. But by gesture she asked him to go ahead. He ejaculated, and with each spurt she responded with a swallow. Some semen leaked out of the corners of her mouth. With her long tongue she retrieved it. It was soon over. She took out the shrivelled penis and inspected it all round and gave a final cleaning. She looked up and her smile seemed to say 'How did you like it.' Vasanth gather her in his arms and they kissed passionately.
"I want to make this a weekly Sunday post lunch event," she said, "but possibly not next Sunday."
"Why not next Sunday?"
"Next Sunday I have my periods."
"How are you so sure?" There was a smug smile on his face. She smiled too."Something tells me that I may have my periods."
"May, or might?"
"I will. What do you think of menstruation?"
"It is a physiological event. I am not competent to comment on something as natural as that."
"Do you agree with the rest of humanity that women are unclean during menstruation?"
"I abhor the practice of keeping women away from the kitchen and the puja room during their periods."
"I am happy to hear you say that. What more do you think of it."
"From your questions I know you have something to say. Go ahead."
"Women in my opinion are not only not unclean but really purer during their periods. Unless women start thinking of themselves as pure during their periods they cannot expect gender equality. I have always looked forward to those three days. It excites me. One of my fantasies to drip blood."
"Drip blood?"
"Yes, drip blood. I do not want to pad up. I want the blood to drip. I do not know why but I think to pad up is cowardly. Like warriors in battle I want to drip blood."
"You mean you want to move about the house with nothing on and allow the blood to flow."
"That exactly is what I want to do. That was unthinkable when I was at home. Please Vasanth can I try it now?"
"Certainly. For our sakes I hope that my actions have not stopped your periods."
"Thanks. But why our sakes not just my sake."
"One of my fantasises is to see my wife going about her household chores with no clothes on. If she drips menstrual blood that would be a bonus.
Srikala was right. Her periods did appear on Saturday. She rested on day one for she usually has crampy pains on that day. On Sunday morning to her husbands query if that was to be the day she said it was.
"You mean that when you come out of the bath you would be wearing no clothes?"
"Why not wait. It is only a few minutes." Vasanth waited with ears flapping, and eyes on the bathroom door. He heard water sluicing, and then the sound of the shower, and then silence. The bolt clicked and the door slowly opened a slit. Sree was peeping out to see if Vasanth was there. She saw him and laughed out aloud. She waited for a while and then opened the door and boldly walked out. Her appearance surprised her husband. Above the waist she was normally dressed, but totally bare below—bottomless. Vasanth hugged her and they kissed.
"I want to see what's happening below," he said and knelt down. She helpfully trusted forward her pelvis, and then to make it easier for her husband she lifted one foot and placed it on a chair.
"Nothing," he said opening the lip and peering inside..
"Blood does not pour out. My flow is only moderate. It oozes and collects and then it I suppose it drips out. We have to wait. I'll do my hair meanwhile."
"Alert me when you sense a drop forming." She smiled and bending down she kissed him on the forehead. She moved to the dressing room with her husband on tow. Vasanth stood watching her. It was a lovely sight to see her normally dressed above the waist but totally bare below. Her bottom with those protruding smooth buttocks was a treat to watch. He went forward and kissed both of them. Reflected in the mirror he saw her prominent mons bulge and the cleft of the vulva undisturbed by any labia minora protrusions. She was busy doing her hair. Then suddenly she turned round.
"Vasanth, I can feel it forming. See if it is." She stood with legs parted. Vasanth crouched low and looked up.
"Yes, I can see. Quite a big fellow. It is almost ready to drop. It should not." So saying he protruded his tongue and delicately received it on the tip of his tongue. He withdrew his tongue into his mouth and smacked his lips in honour of the delicious drop. He then flicked his tongue like a reptile and licked off the surrounding red stain on her vulva.
Srikala reacted strangely. She dropped on her knees and hugged her husband and kissed him on all parts of his face. "My own precious darling, you have made my fondest wish come true. Even in my dreams I did not dare imagine that my darling husband will lick my menses, and now it has happened. She buried her head on his chest and sobbed in her joy. She pulled him up. She peeled off her blouse and in frenzy undressed him. She dragged him to the bed. She spread a plastic sheet and lay down.
"Suck my nipples. They are super sensitive, and lick my clitoris it is hot." Her breasts were indeed warm and engorged. The areolas were swollen and the nipples full and turgid. She clicked and moaned as he sucked. She moved him from one breast to the other, and then suddenly her nipples became less important. Her clitoris was demanding attention. She pushed his head down. He cleaned her vulva with expert use of his tongue, and then he worked on the clitoris. She moved her pelvis in rhythm with his licking and then gradually she got into frenzy. Her buttocks were moving up and down in her excitement, and when he stopped licking and started slow swiping she cascaded in orgasms, her first. Amidst her moaning she asked him to come up. And he went on top she inserted. His ejaculation coincided with her orgasm, and then she had three more. Both were panting.
They changed the sheet and then bathed. Vasanth washed his wife vulva with soap. He explained to her that blood was a good medium for bacteria, and the mouth a great storehouse for widely different types of organisms. He had to give careful attention to details to avert problems. Srikala was in a high state of excitement. She said that she was always sore with the culture that considered woman unclean during their periods. Her sister was a great believer in that notion and they frequently had discussion that usually degenerated to a quarrel. Once when as a teenager Srikala defied her by entering the puja room while in periods her sister gave her a wigging that still rings in her ears. She used to worry what her future husband's attitude would be to periods. When he licked her menstrual blood he transported her to the seventh heaven. She hugged her husband called him her most precious darling.
Srikala offered to wear pads but Vasanth would not hear of it. Srikala remained bare bottomed and Vasanth saw to it that she did not spill a single drop. 'I will not allow any of the precious feminine fluid go waste,' he said. They had breakfast, snoozed, had sex and then lunch, and then a nap, and then again sex, and tea and then again sex. The hormonal changes of the periods so greatly enhanced Srikala's sensations, and her mood was so receptive that she had massive orgasms every time they had sex. It left her exhausted.
Vasanth suggested an outing to allow them some rest before resuming at night. She agreed. She padded up and they went to the beach. With their back to a heap of nets they clung to each other. Passer-by noticing them would have had no difficulty in diagnosing that they were a recently married loving couple, but no way would they have guessed the that they were bonded in blood.
