Always and Forever Part – 16: The Primitive Bond

The early evening sunrays slanted in through the window, lending a delicious warmth to the surroundings, yet warning of the impending chill as the sun started its travel towards the western horizon. Sameer felt the warmth seeping out of the room, and it was replaced by panic as he heard Naina question about lovemaking. Oh dear God. How could he explain her about it?

Naina stared at Sameer, perplexed as she saw him pale, and withdraw even more from her; she could see his fingers tremble as he moved them through his hair. She frowned, “kya hua Sameer?”

He jerked at her voice, and shook his head, turning away from her. He had never expected her to ask this question. He had thought she would have questions regarding what happens after kiss, or ask about honeymoon. Lovemaking? How can he explain that without actually making love to her? As if to add to his panic, suddenly he remembered his own words, “main kuch bhi bolke nahi samjhaunga.” Dammit. If he could reach, he would have kicked his own bottom for uttering those words. Now what should he do?

Naina went up to him, and placed a hand on his back, she couldn’t see him so distressed. She didn’t know why he reacted that way on hearing her question, but she was sure there was a reason behind it. Maybe he didn’t know, or maybe he thought this wasn’t the time to talk about it. He turned to her on feeling her touch, and looked down at her concerned face. She looked into his eyes for a moment, then assured, “koi baat nahi Sameer. Agar tumhe pata nahi ya tum abhi batana nahi chahte to chalega. Hum shaadi ke baad baat karenge iss baare me.”

His eyes softened, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He was surprised by how she was ready to let go of the topic, and was seeking to soothe him instead. But at the same time he understood that he cannot ignore her question, he needed to talk to her, because if he didn’t then it is possible she might think of it as some tabooed topic, just like her impression about menstruation. Lovemaking was far from tabooed, it was the purest essence of a relationship between a man and woman, and she needed to understand this. Maybe the time had come earlier than expected, and maybe she still wouldn’t understand the whole of it, but at least she would know that she could expect that on their first night.

But before that he needed to understand her source of knowledge. It seemed like she knew the word, but nothing else. And what was she muttering about books?

He lifted a hand cupping her face, “mujhe pata hai lovemaking kya hota hai. Main bas soch raha hun ke tumhe kaise samjhau. Mere kuch sawalo ka jawaab dogi?”

She nodded. He took her hand, and guided her to the sofa. Briefly, he thought if he should wear his shirt again, but then discarded the thought, as he sat enclosing her in his arms. He rubbed her arm, “yeh word kaise pata tumko?”

“Books me padha”, she replied immediately.

He frowned confused, “books? Konsi books?”

She fidgeted her fingers, then confessed, “woh hamari lovestory likh rahi thi na, toh socha kuch language reference milega agar main books padhu to. Isiliye library se romantic novels leke aai thi.”

He almost slapped his forehead, he should have guessed. How could he not understand where his topper girlfriend could source information from? He had never read a novel, forget a romantic one, so he had no idea how detailed the descriptions were. He thought for a moment, “umm… kiss ke baare me bhi wahi se pata chala?”

She shook her head slightly, “kiss toh movie me dekha tha na pehle. Bas, tumhari kuch harkarte aur abhivyakti samajh nai aate the…”

Sameer interrupted, “abhi…kya?? Naina, Hindi me bolona.”

She laughed on hearing the phrase she had so often heard in school and college. Now although his Hindi had improved a lot, but still there were words he didn’t understand. She had learned and adapted her language for him, and college had helped because all the study materials were in English. So her own knowledge had increased, and slowly she had started to use a mix of Hindi and English for Sameer’s convenience. “abhivyakti matlab expressions”, she explained, “jaise tum mujhe dekhte the college me, ya fir uss din restaurant me jo kar rahe the, mujhe aise baar baar chuna… samajhne me thodi der lagi, lekin uss din jab school me maine itne confidently papa ke saamne apna paksh rakh diya to main sochne pe majbur ho gai ke yeh maine kaise kiya.”

She leaned on his chest, her eyes distant as she explained how she had realized the hidden agenda behind his actions, how then she had remembered instances from the romance novels and connected the dots, realized that he had wanted to kiss her, and also that now their relationship had changed. He mentally thanked the romance novels, for making his innocent Naina understand his motives.

“Matlab…lovemaking bhi un books me tha?”, he asked.

She nodded, “haan. Lekin kuch khaas likha nahi tha, bas thoda bahot hi samajh aaya. Jaise ki…”, she trailed off.

“Jaise?”, he prodded.

She looked away hesitating, then slowly whispered, “umm… usme likha tha ke hero-heroine ne kuch bhi pehna nahi hota…naked.”

He almost choked, but controlled his reaction at the correct moment. All the visions he had of Naina floated in his mind. He kept reminding himself that he needed to be calm. He should think of it in terms of science for now, rather than visualizing Naina naked. He sucked in a much needed breath, “uhh… haan, waisa hi hota hai.”

She looked at him eyes rounded in surprise, then he saw her eyes trail down to his still bare chest and abdomen. She gulped, “is..iska matlab… main bhi?”

He smiled, “haan.” She blushed, closing her eyes, trying to come to terms with what she was hearing. She recalled the night he had spent in her room, how he had tugged down her kurta, and his touch on her breast. Oh God. So, there was more, maybe much more. She cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves, and the fluttering in her stomach.

“Uske baad kuch khaas nahi tha… bas aisa likha tha ke body pe kiss karte hai, aur ek aur word tha… hickey”, she blurted non-stop.

He bit his cheek to control his smile, “umm… hickey? Tumko pata hai woh kya hota hai?”

Confused, she nodded, “haan… book me tha… reddish-purplish mark… to woh wahi hua na jaise tumne uss din…”, again she trailed off blushing.

This time he let out a short laugh, and gathered her even closer, kissing her forehead, “mmm…haan wahi hickey tha. Lekin woh aisai nahi hota, ya koi rule nahi hai ke har baar hoga hi. Uss din, main tumhari baato se itna jhunjhla gaya tha ke uss waqt main bas tumpe apna haq jatana chahta tha. Woh adhikaar jo kisi aur ka kabhi nahi ho sakta tumpe. Tum sirf meri ho, uss baat ka sabut hai woh nishan.”

She tilted her head, processing his words, “ohh… par tum bhi toh sirf mere ho.”

“Of course sweetheart”, he smiled, “zaruri nahi ke waise nishan sirf tumhare sharir pe ho.”

He saw interest lit her eyes at this new knowledge, and his body reacted at the thought that Naina might attempt to mark him soon. She bit her lip, and his gaze shifted darkened. He closed his eyes, “Naina please… abhi nahi. Main control nahi kar paunga.”

She laughed softly, “aage bataona… woh body pe kiss bhi hota hai?”

He leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek, “aisai… main tumhe har jagah kiss karunga”, he tilted her head and placed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, “aur aise bhi.”

She trembled in his arms, her mind losing focus, shifting from the discussion to his actions. She wound her arms around his waist, as he nipped at the sensitive skin under her ear. He came up to her lips, captured them in a soft kiss, and whispered, “aur tum bhi mujhe kiss kar sakti ho.”

She breathed hard, “toh… yeh lovemaking hai?”

He touched his forehead to hers, “uhuh… yeh to sirf shuruat hai.”

She leaned back, eyes wide in surprise, “sirf shuruat?”, she choked. How could she tolerate anything more than this? Just listening to it, she felt as if her heart would pop out of her ribcage, and he was saying there’s still more.

He settled back again, with her in his arms, “haan. Naina, lovemaking… matlab… ek aadmi aur aurat ke beech me sharirik sambandh. Suhagraat me husband aur wife ke beech yeh hota hai, first time, usually.”

She frowned, “yeh maine suna hai.”

He looked down at her puzzled, “kahan suna?”

She shrugged, “college me, movies me, Pooja didi ko unki shaadi me chidate the tab.”

“Ohh”, he exclaimed, “toh chachiji ne ya Pooja didi ne kuch samjhaya kya tumko?”

She shook her head, and smiled, “maine aur Preeti ne Pooja didi ko unke shaadi ke baad pucha tha, ke pehli raat ko ghunghat uthane ke baad kya hota hai.”

He looked stunned for a moment, thinking of a 16 year old Naina asking this to her elder sister, and then started laughing, “wow. Toh fir?”

She chucked along with him, “kuch nahi… dudh ke glass tak aaye… aur fir naa unki himmat hui bolne ki aur naa hamari sunne ki. Bas mujhe aur Preeti ko itna samajh aaya ke shayad kiss kiya hoga, toh hum dono toh chi-chi karne lage.”

He laughed harder, and then cupped her face, staring intently at her, “aur ab chi-chi nahi lagta?”

She smiled, turning to kiss his palms, “nahi… tumne saara darr pehli kiss me hi bhaga diya.” His heart swelled with pride on hearing that from her. Even though he had known that she hadn’t been scared, that she had enjoyed, but still it made him happy to hear it from her.

He quickly kissed her again, then asked, “aur kya pata hai? Science me bhi padha hoga na?”

She frowned, “science me? Yeh school me thodi na sikhate the.”

He grinned, “yeh nahi. Lekin maanav prajanan ke baare me. Reproduction.”

She nodded perplexed, “haan woh toh padha hi hai na. Lekin uska isse kya sambhandh?”

He thought for a moment framing the words in his mind, “sambandh yeh ke, bachche hone ke liye yeh lovemaking zaruri hai…”

“Sameer”, she stopped him, “yeh mujhe bhi pata hai. Sirf school me hi nahi, novel me bhi padha hai. Par main puch rahi hun, yeh hota kaise hai?”

He closed his eyes, thinking how to explain the process to her, and realized there were no words that he could actually use to string together the whole picture. There was only one way left – to demonstrate. Sighing he opened his eyes, and looked at the woman, who would be his wife soon. In his heart, in his mind, she was his wife already, but he still wanted to hold on to the promise of not crossing limits before marriage – not only for her or for himself, but also to uphold the trust chachaji-chachiji had placed on him. Each time he had wanted Naina with him, Chachaji had agreed, and that too without much questions. He knew he made excuses to them, and he also knew that Chachaji was smart enough to see through them sometimes, but still he never refused, because he trusted him with Naina. This was the trust he could not break, no matter how strong the temptation.

However, he also had a responsibility towards Naina. There were things she couldn’t talk about with anyone, and he himself had wanted her to be comfortable with him and share whatever was in her heart. She was still learning, and he wanted her to know that he would be there for her always and forever – whether it was to stand by her, for her, or answer her innocent questions. Maybe, he could demonstrate in a way that would give her some explanation, and at the same time uphold her family’s trust.

He smiled at her, then stood up and went to pull the mattress down on the floor. When he came back to her, he saw her staring at the mattress, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and expression of uncertainty in her eyes. He crouched in front of her and took her hands, “Naina, waise toh tum hamesha mujhpe vishwaas karti ho, lekin fir bhi iss baar wapas kahunga, bharosa karo. Main shaadi se pehle woh limit cross nahi karunga, lekin tumhare sawaal ka jawaab main wakai shabdo me nahi de sakta. Ek mauka do mujhe.”

She looked into his eyes, swallowed, her heart thumping, and nervous fluttering in her belly. Was he going to make love to her now? No, no. He said he won’t cross the limit before their wedding. But then how would be explain, if not in words. She saw him waiting patiently for her answer, and knew that if she refused, he would back-off even without any questions. She thought for a long moment, and realized that if she said no, if today she didn’t trust him completely with her body and soul, then he would go back into the protective mode, and he might also feel that even after all these years he hasn’t been able to gain her full trust. She couldn’t let that happen.

She removed her hands from him, making him frown, but she cupped his face, and leaned down, “kiss me.”

He exhaled, his muscles relaxing, and he slid a hand in her hair, pulling her down to capture her lips. Without leaving her mouth, he held her shoulders pulling her up, and then wrapped his arms beneath her bottom, lifting her. She gasped, clutching his shoulders for support, captivated by the unknown position. He quickly strode towards the mattress, and carefully placed her down, lifting his mouth from hers. She gazed at him, waiting, slight apprehension visible on her face. He shifted to lie beside her, supporting himself on one elbow, and his other hand on her belly, as he feasted his eyes on her. Slowly, after a couple of minutes, he shifted his hand, and slid it under her kurti, his fingers tracing circles on her belly. She inhaled sharply, lips parting open; she still didn’t look away from him.

He leaned down slightly, “darr lag raha hai.”

Her lips curved in a small smile, and she lifted one hand to touch his chest, threading her fingers through the patch of hair that so fascinated her, “nahi. Tumse nahi.”

He dipped and kissed her, exploring her mouth leisurely, while the hand inside her kurti trailed up to her breast. His mouth was slow, hot and demanding, making her forget time. Her breast was tingling and throbbing, the heat from it spreading down to her belly and between her legs. She whimpered into his mouth, kissing him back with an urgency that took his breath away. Sameer kissed every inch of her face, skimming down to her throat, while his strong fingers at her breast slowly kneaded taking care not to hurt her.

He lifted his mouth from her, watching her swollen wet lips, messy hair, and felt her nails digging into his shoulders. He panted, trying to keep his mind in control. They had come till here the other night, he knew she would be okay, but now his real test started. Swallowing hard, he removed his hand from her breast, and captured the hem of the kurti, lifting it up slowly to bare her belly. She gasped, her hands instinctively reaching down to straighten her top. He caught one hand, and kissed it, suckling on one finger. Her attention shifted to this new action, as she watched him with half-opened eyes. His other hand bunched her kurti up, his fingers skimmed the smooth flesh, making her moan.

He quickly left her hand, and bent, showering quick kisses on her abdomen, making her muscles quiver. When he reached her navel, he darted his tongue out and licked, and she arched. “Ohh…”, she whimpered, grasping his shoulders again, as she felt the prick of stubble against her soft flesh. He trailed up, and heart thundering, taking care not to alarm her, he slowly lifted the kurti even more. His breath left his lungs in a hard exhale, as he saw the black lace she was wearing.

“Sameer”, she whispered, and he looked up to see her staring at him, eyes clouded with desire and anticipation. No anxiety. Still he asked, “thik ho?”

She smiled, and he reached up to taste her lips again, kissing her reassuringly. She felt him lean more onto her, his hand reaching beneath her arched back, as he tried to deal with the tiny hooks of her bra. A minute later, he tore his mouth away from her, his brow furrowed in irritation, fingers slipping over the contraption. Naina looked at his frown, the confused expression in his eyes, the brows dipping in annoyance, and she let out a spurt of amused giggles. She knew he had taken time that day, properly feeling the hooks, trying to learn. Yet she somehow knew that he wouldn’t be able to open it, and that too one-handed was simply impossible.

He looked at her giggling form, and a smile tugged up the corners of his mouth, turning to a grin. He sighed removing his hand from her back, and leaned down, burying his face in the crook of her neck, “sikhna padega”, he whispered, making her chortle again.

She hugged him, “hmm… kai saal lagenge isme”, she teased. He lifted his head; eyes narrowed, and then tilted her head up, kissing her mouth hungrily. In a matter of seconds, she was twisting and turning, arching up to him. His fingers trailed along the edge of her bra, pulling the fabric of one cup down, and then his palm covered her naked breast. All her nerve endings rioted; his palm was hot and rough, the callused skin rasping over her swollen tip, as he rubbed her. She arched wildly under the lash of sensations so exquisite and unbearable that her entire body quivered. She crossed her legs, and moaned into his mouth, as the pleasure transformed to ache, turning into liquid heat. He controlled her with those incredibly strong hands of his and those iron-muscled legs pressing her down onto the mattress, and somehow he was on top of her.

Her heart was beating so hard it hurt, and her blood was pounding through her veins. He lifted his mouth from hers, gliding down to her throat. She clung to him, barely able to breathe as her body adjusted to his weight and unyielding hardness. She didn’t know what to do, how to get rid of the throbbing ache inside her. “Sameer”, she whimpered, arching under him, unable to voice her condition.

He lifted his mouth from her throat, looked at her face, at his own hand still covering her breast, and wondered how easy it would be to replace his hand with his mouth. Oh God. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. But no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let his control snap. Closing his eyes, he found the fabric of her lace, and pulled it up to cover her, and then only did he bend and kiss the exposed swells of her breasts. The mark he had left above her right breast was light now, the colour faded, he kissed it. She slid her hands up his back, fisting them in his hair, delighting in the delicious sensation of cool silk under her fingers, and also the silky glide of his belly against her flesh. She kept murmuring his name, as if pleading for something, and he came up to capture her mouth again, “shsh… mujhe pata hai”, he whispered in between the kiss.

He shifted his thighs, the movement somehow spreading her legs, and he settled himself fully onto her. She gasped, wrenching her mouth away from his, eyes flowing open in astonishment. He didn’t move, nothing except his surging chest as he breathed hard. She looked at his face, his eyes glittering with desire, his mouth wet and set in a firm line, his nostrils flaring with each breath; he was balanced on his forearms, his fingers tangled in her hair. She felt a tingle run down her spine, and squirmed; he groaned, the sudden movement taking him by surprise.

She could feel him, hard and long, nestling between her thighs, and momentary wonder lit in her eyes. The jarring unfamiliarity of it was matched by a deeper, more primitive sense of rightness. He slowly leaned down, brushed his lips on her cheek, as he whispered, “hum aise honge Naina, jab hum ek honge”, and slowly thrust against her once.

She gasped, grabbing onto his back, her fingers digging in his shifting and bunching muscles. Her brows furrowed as she processed his words, and realization dawned on her. The phrases from the books started to make sense suddenly, and she understood what words like ‘taking’ and ‘entering’ meant. Along with this understanding came another apprehension, and she slowly asked, “Sameer… dard hoga?”

He closed his eyes, willing himself to answer honestly and not just assure her of the pleasures of lovemaking, “hmm… pehli baar thoda sa. Uske baad nahi.”

She looked away slightly, pondering over the new information, then again asked, “tumhe bhi hoga?” He shook his head, himself wondering at the unfairness of it. Oh, why did it have to hurt her? Why couldn’t it be only pleasure for both of them even the first time, especially the first time? After a few moments, he started to lift himself off her, but she held on. He looked down at her, wondering if she had more questions, “kya baat hai?”

She had a thoughtful expression on her face, “tumne kaha suhagraat pe hota hai, lekin books me toh aisa nahi hota ke shaadi ho gai ho.”

He cleared his throat, “umm… haan… zaruri nahi hai ke shaadi honi hi chahiye. Mera matlab… yeh sambandh kisi bhi baalik ladke aur ladki ke beech me ho sakta hai.”

She nodded, her hands stroking his back, tracing his muscles, as she looked at his face. He took a deep breath, “main uthu ab? Ya aur koi sawaal hai?”

She smiled and shook her head, “koi sawaal nahi hai… bas…”, she lifted to kiss his shoulders. His breath caught, as her lips trailed across his throat, “Naina…”

Her hands trailed up to his head, and she pulled him down for another kiss. The taste of her shot to his head, and he nibbled at her lower lip, exploring her mouth. His body reacted on its own, the primal and basic need for her, and his hips rocked leisurely, rhythmically pressing. Naina’s whole body lifted into the contact, her slender hips straining and reaching, communicating her need to him. His mouth left hers, to slide down her throat, and further down her body to leave another hungry mark of possession on the swell of her breast.

She twisted under him, frantic with heat and need, a deep empty ache, that his movements soothed yet increased. He caught his breath at her wild beauty, fierce and demanding, with the dimming sunlight lending a golden glow to her luminous skin.  Her body was hot and tense and untamed, demanding a satisfaction she hadn’t yet known, but the lure of which was compelling her ever closer and closer to the edge. He wanted to make love to her, right then and there, make her his completely. He hadn’t intended to go this far, but she was a pure flame in his arms, making it difficult for him to hold on to his control.

He gathered her, and rolled, so that she was on top of him, so that he wasn’t pressing against her any longer, hoping for some respite from the feverish pitch his body had reached. She traced his face with her fingers, outlining the shape of his brows, eyes, nose, lips; following it with soft kisses. She squirmed and shifted, sliding down beside him, and her mouth and hands found their way to his chest. He groaned, giving in to the exquisite torture, as he felt her explore his body. He wanted her to continue. No. He wanted her to stop. His mind and body floated in different directions, as her lips left a hot trail down the centre of his chest to his abdomen. He muttered her name, even he could hear the plea in his voice, but it seemed she wasn’t in a mood to relent.

He fisted his hands in her hair, wanting to pull her up for a final kiss, before he put a stop to her wandering mouth. But, before he could do so, she sank her teeth on his left pectoral muscle, and he arched his back, a rough sound escaping his throat. She kissed the spot she had marked, and he panted, an overwhelming need surging through his veins, as he dragged her up and captured her mouth again. His brain buzzed, body racked with frustration, but his iron will slowly won out, and he softened the kiss, rubbing her arms and back.

“Hume rukna hoga Naina”, his voice was an almost soundless rustle in her ear, he placed tender kisses on her mouth and cheeks as he straightened her kurti, and then dipped his long fingers in her hair massaging her skull slowly.

Her breath came in short gasps, as she lay on his chest, astonished at her own actions. A blush creeped up her face, at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t found control again, and stopped. Yet she felt incredibly happy, and strangely powerful as she remembered how he had groaned and arched, responding to her actions. She couldn’t believe it, that she hadn’t just seen him without a shirt, but had also touched and kissed his chest, marked him, just like he did to her. She breathed deep, the scent of him enveloping her, and she already knew that this time the week’s trip would be even more difficult to bear.

When his head cleared, long minutes later, he stroked her arm, “Naina, dinner karne bahar chalogi? Fir hum saat din baad milenge.”

She lifted her head, “haan… Chalo Law Garden chalte hai.”

“Law Garden?”, he asked puzzled.

She sat up, and excitedly nodded, “Rohan aur Deepika ke liye wahan se kuch kharidte hai. Aur dinner bhi wahi karte hai, mujhe kuch chat-pata khane ka man kar raha hai.”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, as he got up, and picked up the discarded shirt from the floor. Naina watched unabashedly at the play of his shifting muscles as he pulled on his shirt. He turned, buttoning up, and caught her gaze. Realizing that she was staring at him, he winked and she blushed. She went to the other room to use the bathroom and quickly freshened up, adjusting her clothes, combing her hair. She started perplexed at her empty ears for a moment before recalling that Sameer had removed her earrings. He was ready with her earrings and rubber-band, when she returned, making her smile.

Sameer quickly hugged her and kissed her one last time, before they left to spend the evening in the busy streets of Law Garden. They bought t-shirts for Rohan, some metallic jewellery and a bright turquoise stole for Deepika. She liked a maroon shawl with broad embroidered borders for Vishakha, but hesitated to buy, wondering if she would use something bought from Law Garden, but Sameer assured her that she could gift whatever she wants. After shopping, they gorged on chaats and pav-bhaji, and then finally Sameer dropped her home.

As they reached her society, Sameer held her hand, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her palms, “main bahot miss karunga tumhe.”

She smiled, “main bhi. Aur fikar mat karo, main iss baar bhi airport aaungi na tumse milne.”

While they climbed the stairs, he took the opportunity provided by the fused bulb, and pulled her to him in the darkness, kissing her softly. She hugged him, nearly on the verge of tears, as she clutched his shirt. He talked to Chachaji and Chachiji for a while, letting them know of his Delhi trip in detail, and then left from there after one last glance at Naina. He reached downstairs and waited, knowing she would come out, and she did.

Wrapped in the shawl he had gifted her, she waved at him, and he understood that the woollen fabric represented his warmth for her. He stood for a minute, feeling as if he could never get tired of looking at her, and then blew her a quick kiss. As he drove back, he wondered, just exactly how he was going to stay away for seven days from her.