How often do you pamper your wife?
Author’s Note:
This work of fiction is copyrighted© to LuckOfTheDraw 2021 and may not be reproduced in any form such as printed, hardcopy, softcopy, in the cloud or any other virtual method, handwritten or any other way, without the express written permission of the author.
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“How often do you pamper your wife?”
Airports are the damnedest places, I thought to myself. We had met less than half an hour earlier, and here she was, a stranger, asking about my married sex life. Only in an airport could this happen. There’s something about talking to a stranger, knowing that you’ll never meet again, so you may as well say and ask all those things you’d never dream of talking about with any of your friends.
Especially when it was very late at night. We were at New Delhi’s Terminal 3, waiting for the boarding announcement of a red-eye Air Asia flight to Bangalore. Ours was the last flight out and had been scheduled for 23.55. Now it was past midnight and the counter staff had informed us that it would be late by “at least an hour”. Groans had greeted this announcement, but there was no other flight anyone could change to. Like everyone else, I settled into a seat in a far corner of the departure area next to Gate 39. I could sit wherever I wanted – the passengers on the Air Asia flight had the entire Departure area, with twenty-odd gates, to themselves.
The seats were arranged in rows of two facing each other, with a broad aisle in between. To my left stretched the open area towards the travelators and the gates on the other side and the glass frontage of the terminal. I was alone in my row and seated on the side from which I could see the counter and boarding gate. There was no one else on my row on my side of the aisle. I was the ultimate backbencher that night, with no one either behind me or on my side. By a strange coincidence, everyone in the rows to the front of me was facing away, towards the counter, just as I was. I stretched my legs out and started to aimlessly scroll through my phone.
A movement on the edge of my vision caught my attention. A young woman had stopped exactly abeam of me in the open area. She appeared to be looking for a place to seat herself down. For some unknown reason, I continued to look at her. She was not particularly striking in appearance; a little short at around five three or four, very slim in jeans, a muted top in a pastel shade, and the mandatory windcheater over it. A backpack was slung low over her shoulders. Her black hair was pulled back and held at the neck by a simple elastic band. On her feet were the inevitable and comfortable trainers. I could see that her face was oval. Overall, a pretty girl, but not especially striking. Not a head turner.
Then she turned her head and looked directly at me, and I saw what made her attractive beyond her looks It was her eyes, which were bright and sparkling in a way that gave hints of enjoying fun. Her smile was also very nice, and I found myself instinctively smiling back at her. She caught my eye and held it for a long second. Then she seemed to make her mind and walked towards me.
“Do you mind if I sit here next to you?” she asked with the same smile.
“Sure” I answered. “Be my guest.”
“All the others seem to be asleep or locked into their phones” she said as she settled into the seat. “You seemed to be awake, and I don’t feel sleepy at all. Do you mind if I talk to you?”
“No problem” I replied, finding that I was also smiling. “I like speaking to new people. Especially at airports.”
“Why?” she asked laughing.
“Because people are never likely to meet again, so they are always more free with what they speak. Makes conversations so much more fun.”
“You’re right” she said, still laughing. “I’ve had the same experience.”
“You live in Bangalore?” I asked.
“Yes. And you?”
“Both Bangalore and Delhi” I replied. “I have a lot of work in Bangalore, so I spend about 15 days a month there, but my wife works here in Delhi.”
And so, we spent the next twenty minutes discussing where we were from, what work we did, and so on. I told her my wife and I were both from the South, that I was an engineering consultant, she told me her family was from Bihar, and that she was with a small software products company in Bangalore. She even gave me a short sales pitch about her company’s product. I was beginning to get concerned that this was starting to go the direction of “let’s stay in touch in Bangalore and see if we can do some business together”. In other words, one of those boring airport chats that go nowhere.
Then suddenly the conversation took a different turn.
“I’m returning from a wedding in my family” she said. “My God, the amount of pressure everyone is putting on me to be the next to get married! I had to agree to meet three different guys during the past two weeks. I said no to all of them!”
“That’s normal in India” I laughed.
“Yes” she said. “But I don’t know what to do. My family keeps pushing me.”
“Maybe you can tell them that you’ll simply find your own husband.”
“No” she said decisively. “I don’t want that. I’ve had two boyfriends and I would never want to marry them. I want a standard Indian arranged marriage.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Family relationships give security. With a boyfriend, you never know everything about him.”
I started to ask what kind of boyfriends she had had but decided against it.
“Then why don’t you simply say yes to whoever your parents suggest, like a traditional Indian girl?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. I just wish I could be surer of him before we get married. What if he turns out to be something different from what everybody expected? It’s taking too much of a chance.”
I thought it was time to give her some wise old uncle advice.
“Don’t worry about that. Almost all marriages turn out well in India. They may not all be fully happy and content, but most married couples stay together till old age. Then they understand that companionship is what is really important.”
“What about you?” she asked, looking at me with a smile. “Was yours a traditional arranged marriage or a love marriage?”
“Me? Well, mostly arranged, I suppose, although we had met socially earlier, since both our families are from Bangalore”
She thought about that for a second, and then shook her head.
“I’m still not sure what to do” she said.
“Well,” I said comfortably. “Look at me. My marriage turned out fine. So that’s one data point for you to go ahead and take a chance.”
She smiled again at me and this time there was a new light in her eyes.
“You still don’t understand my problem” she said.
I was a little confused.
“No” I said. “I don’t think I do. Maybe you should explain it to me in more detail.”
She looked at me with that light still in her eyes and I noticed that her lips were parted slightly, and she was biting her lower lip at the edge. She was suddenly looking very enticing.
“I’m going to ask you something very very personal” she said, and her smile now was a little naughty. “Promise me you’ll tell me the truth.”
“Promise” I laughed.
“Definitely?”
“Absolutely. You can count on it that I’ll tell you the truth” I answered, still laughing.
There was a moment’s silence and then it came.
“How often do you pamper your wife?”
I was so stupefied by her question that I was literally struck dumb. In all my long experience, no one, ever, man or woman, had asked me this question, and that too so directly. My shock must have shown on my face because she felt impelled to repeat her question.
“How often do you pamper your wife? Tell me the truth. You see, that’s my problem in deciding. What if he stops wanting to pamper me after a few years? ”
“Well,” I replied, drawing a deep breath. “We do it once or twice a month, I suppose. Maybe more if we’re alone on a holiday together.”
Her eyes grew round.
“Really? How long have you been married?”
“Thirty years next year.”
“And you still….” she continued her voice trailing off.
“Yes” I replied. “And I’m sure a lot of other people do.”
“Wow. You’re both very lucky. I don’t think most people your age would even think of it.”
At that point, I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt I should explain things in greater detail to her.
“Well,” I said reassuringly, “I guess my wife and I might be different. We found that we liked sex a lot and that both of us had…how should I say this…our sex drives were always both very strong. So I suppose that’s why we still do it.”
She looked at me with that same light in her eyes and I noticed she was biting her lip again. For some reason, the look in her eyes made me feel like continuing.
“Actually” I said with a chuckle, as a memory popped into my head, ” we found out during our honeymoon and a little later, that our sex drives were more or less equal. Like this.”
I demonstrated by holding out my hands and moving them forward as though they were two cars on a road going at the same speed.
“Then” I chuckled, “after a couple of years, she overtook me. Like this.”
One hand sped up and moved ahead of the other. She started laughing. It was a nice sound and I liked that she wasn’t embarrassed by frank talk about sex. I found myself warming to her.
“So you had a lot of fun” she said.
“Yes” I chuckled.
A different kind of light, naughtier and teasing this time, had come into her eyes now. She had managed them look wide, innocent and mischievous all at once.
“So….no problems during your marriage?” she asked, her voice a little throatier now, one eyebrow raised slightly.
“Why should there have been?” I managed. I couldn’t figure out why it was happening, but I could feel my cock thickening a little under my trousers.
“I mean…your wife overtaking you….” she smiled, her eyes still wide, one eyebrow raised again, her voice still throaty.
“No, no problems” I said, and my voice sounded a little huskier now I suppose. My cock had now acquired a life of its own.
“Are you sure?” very teasingly now, and yes, very sexily.
“Well,” I found myself blurting out, “I suppose you could say that as we grew older, because my wife is five years younger than me, I could see that…you know…. she may be needed more…”
She had a pleased smile now, since her gambit had worked.
“And…so what happened?”
“You see…. let me explain it this way” I started, and then decided to go the full monty. What the hell, this was late in the night with a stranger in an airport, so why not.
“You see” I continued, “my wife and I had developed a way of agreeing on things without discussing them directly, by talking about them as if we were discussing a film or a novel. So, over the years, we had agreement on two basic ways we ran our marriage. One was that we should always stay together, no matter what. The other was that neither of us would try and control the other person. In any way, ever. We had decided to simply trust that the other person would keep things the right way up.”
She was looking interested now. Very interested indeed. She was back to biting her lower lip. And she had twisted herself round a little so that she was leaning closer and more into me. I realized her hand was resting lightly on my arm. I wondered if she could see the bulge in my trousers from where she was sitting.
“So then” I continued, and my voice was thicker again, “when she had a year to go to turn forty years of age, her bank gave her a chance to go on an assignment to Hong Kong for six months, extendable by three months if she wanted. The money was very good.”
She raised her eyebrows, and her eyes had an amused look.
“We discussed it and decided together that she should accept the offer for the full nine months. My parents could come and stay with me in Delhi to look after the kids, who were in middle school then and who didn’t need much supervision. The bank would give her one paid vacation of one week during the assignment, at a time of her choice. I could probably make a trip once or twice for two or three days. After some more discussion, we decided that she would opt for a trip home after three months, and I would make a trip at the end of six months. If we had enough money, maybe I could take along the kids as well.”
“So off she went. We spoke every evening. Given the time difference, which meant we spoke just before she went to bed and before my dinner. And of course, we skyped occasionally. These were the days when roaming charges and international call charges were still very high, so we avoided using mobiles and spoke only on the landlines.”
“She seemed to be very happy in her assignment. The bank had given her a two-bedroom apartment in one of the better parts of HK, overlooking the bay. On Skype, she really looked great. She had cut her hair and left it open, and her complexion looked clear and fresh. The air was much cleaner than Delhi, she said. She also said there was a swimming pool and gym in her apartment block, both of which she planned on using regularly.”
“And so it continued for three months. All of us missed her terribly, but especially me, for reasons you now know!! Then she came home for her one-week break. She was looking fantastic. She had lost some weight, and her complexion had somehow become even more clear and fresh. Her body was looking fit and toned. She said it was because of the swimming and the gym and the clean food. I don’t have to tell you how much we enjoyed ourselves that week. Much, much more than once or twice a month, I can tell you!!”
Her fingers were now gripping my arm quite tightly, and she listened to my story. Her lips were parted, and her tongue occasionally discreetly licked her lips.
“Then it was my turn to visit her in HK. Because of the cost, I could only go alone. She met me at the airport, and we drove immediately to her apartment. She didn’t even wait to let me unpack. Her welcome lasted well into the night. And okay, because of the gym and the swimming, her body had become fit and supple. It was like I was with a much younger and energetic person. And yes, she said she wanted to try out some new variations which she said she had read about in HK magazines. It was incredible, like a second honeymoon.”
“I slept late the next morning and found she had already left for work. I decided to unpack my suitcase. there was a large walk-in closet in our bedroom and there was plenty of space. As I finished hanging up my clothes, I noticed that one of the drawers at the other edge of the closet, on the side where her clothes were placed, had been closed at a slight angle. I bent down to straighten it by pulling it out and pushing it back in again. When I pulled it out, I was stunned at what I saw.”
Her nails dug into my arm now. She had turned even more in her seat and was now leaning forward much more into me. I had also turned my body to speak to her, so she was closer to me now and her foot was touching my calf. I hadn’t realized it, so absorbed was I in my story.
“It was full of lingerie. But not the kind that she wore every day and which I got to see when she changed. It was the sexiest lingerie I had ever seen. The bras, panties and other items were like nothing I had ever imagined. They were all so thin and transparent, almost gossamer, weighing almost nothing. Sheer, transparent, or net fabric, with lace here and there, they all left nothing to the imagination. The panties and bras had such little material that I wondered how they covered anything at all. Anyone could see everything through them, they were so sheer. And they were all very expensive, very exclusive brands. She would never have spent so much money on lingerie. I was quite sure about that, because she was typically an Indian middle-class wife and careful with money. Someone had obviously given it to her as a present”
At this, she covered her face with helpless giggles. Then she looked at me, her eyes bright and her mouth smiling widely. This time her other hand came down to rest lightly on my thigh.
“Did you ask her about the lingerie?”
“Of course not. Remember I said we would never ever try and control each other? So I kept quiet.”
“Hmm. Okay. So what happened next?”
“She was obviously having an affair. That was clear. But you won’t believe what happened after that.”
Her nails were digging slightly into my thigh now.
“What?” she asked, and again her voice was husky and teasing.
“Well, for some reason I wasn’t really upset. In fact, I was slightly relieved that she had decided to take charge of her own needs. That took the pressure off me. And the other thing was, when she came back from work in the evening, we made love without even waiting for dinner. And then again well into the night after dinner.”
“She told me just before going to sleep that I had been as though I was twenty years younger. And that’s how it continued through the week. I couldn’t stop and she couldn’t stop. It was much more than even the first honeymoon.”
Her eyes were bright now and her lips parted again. Her nails continued to dig into my thigh and arm.
“When I got back to Delhi, I found I had become quite curious to find out who it was. I wondered if there was any way I could find out. Then I had a brainwave.”
“I remembered that a close friend of mine, a pilot, had recently switched jobs and was flying international. Maybe he flew to HK as well. I rang him up and suggested at drink one evening.”
“Now, our friendship was quite unusual in that it was very frank, because it went back to before either of us or married. So we knew each other’s secrets. So maybe out of concern for our wives’ feelings, we avoided meeting as couples in case a secret spilled out by mistake. But we continued to meet outside from time to time and he used to tell me a lot about his adventures with women, mainly air hostesses, from other countries. He used to tease me that my engineering job meant I met only old and boring men!”
“He had a good long laugh when we met this time. He said, at least one of you is having fun. Great. Now what is it you want from me? Do you want me to find out more? When I said yes, he said, no problem, I can get myself onto the HK roster next week. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Two weeks later I had another drink with him, this time at his invitation. He lost no time in getting to the point. He started by asking me: Are you sure you want to know? Are you certain you can handle it and you won’t create problems for her in the family? I told him not to worry. I already knew about it anyway; he was only filling in the details.”
“He laughed again and said: Well, it’s a little more than that. But I think you can take it, so I won’t hold back anything. It’s funny, but I found out most of it from an old girlfriend of mine, a former stewardess with Singapore Airlines.”
“This girl was staying in the same apartment block as your wife, so they met up very quickly in the gym and swimming pool. They kind of got along very well, so they started to meet for a glass of wine and so on. And of course, they exchanged very personal stories. My friend said that your wife was really impressed by this girl’s lifestyle…. well…we both know what that means! Then one day, your wife asked her straight out if she could introduce her to some men.”
“Men?” I asked, stunned.
“Yes. Plural. Anyway, my friend liked your wife. She told me that your wife wanted no-strings attached adventure, that was all. She said it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make up for all she had missed out on. So my friend introduced her to an Italian auto industry executive, very successful, who was one of the best studs she had ever had. I asked her if it went well. She giggled like crazy, and said okay, I’ll tell you what happened.”
“This Italian guy had lots of money to burn, so he always stayed in a very exclusive boutique hotel. My friend knew the hotel manager – she seemed to know everyone – and one day she received a call from that man. He said to her: You remember that Italian friend of yours? Well, he has a new friend now, an Indian woman. Personally, it means nothing to me, but the first time he brought her back to the room, they made so much noise that the neighbouring rooms started making complaints. I had to go up and tell them to quieten down. Most of the noise seemed to come from the woman.”
My pilot friend paused to let that sink in. Seeing that I wasn’t overly upset, he continued.
“So your wife then came back to my stewardess friend and thanked her profusely and told her she had no idea that sex could be like that. She continued with the Italian whenever he flew in from Tokyo, but one day she and my stewardess fried got drunk together and then your wife asked her if she could be introduced to some more men. The Italian travelled to HK about once a month for a week each time, and that was really not enough, according to your wife. By then the two of them had become really good friends, so my girl made her some more introductions.”
“Three more, to be exact. One was an Egyptian-origin guy who lived in the US, who had apparently been an Olympic class swimmer. Then there was a Greek shipping industry guy. Finally, a Nigerian based in Singapore, also a banker. The Nigerian stayed in the same hotel as the Italian, and again there were complaints from the neighbouring rooms. My stewardess friend had no idea where the Egyptian and the Greek stayed, so she didn’t know what happened at those hotels. But she did say that your wife was extraordinarily discreet and careful. She always wore a wig and dark glasses when she visited any of her paramours.”
“My girl asked your wife why she stopped at four men. Your wife told her that all Indian women like the idea of five husbands because that’s what happens in our epics!”
“Like she said, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And she certainly seems to have had a once in a lifetime experience. Proves again that women need it much more than men, although they never admit to that. My advice to you, my good friend, is to say Good for her! and move on. When you think about it, you’re actually very lucky.”
I stopped and looked at the girl I had met such a short time back in the airport. I had no idea how much time had passed during my story, but I recalled that an announcement had been made that the flight was delayed for some more time.
Her nails were digging into my thigh, quite high up. Her eyes had a far-off kind of look in them. Her lips were parted, and she kept wetting them with her tongue. She also bit her lower lip from time to time and her breath was coming faster.
“So what happened after that?” she asked.
“Well, for some time I was quite dazed. It was difficult to process. But then as I calmed down, I realized I was only concerned about one thing. Did she still want to be a wife and mother and a family person? From our skype and phone conversations, it appeared everything was still okay.”
“When she finally returned to India after nine months, I saw that my worries had been misplaced. She had changed all right, but now she was much more into her role as a mother and family person than before. And where I was concerned, she was now much more caring. Knowing her, I slowly understood that she had successfully put the HK experience behind her. In fact, when she was offered another similar assignment a couple of years later, in Dubai, she said no without even waiting to consult me.”
“So that’s how it’s been ever since. A good, solid, Indian arranged marriage which has lasted, and with both of us pampering the other from time to time.”
Her teasing look and voice were back.
“So what makes you want to pamper each other?”
“Well,” I managed to say, “I suppose when either of us……..remembers, I think. And yes, I think it’s when we remember HK. We always tell each other that we remember that week I spent with her in HK, but you know now what we actually remember.”
“So you remember what she did in HK and you feel sexy and then you pamper each other?”
“Yes. Very.”
Then she traced her nails up my thigh until they were lightly scratching the hard bulge in my trousers. I sat absolutely still, not knowing how to respond.
“You’re feeling sexy now, I can tell” she said, her voice throaty. “Me too. Your story was so hot.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Would you like to pamper me?” she asked.
“Yes” I said thickly, finally.
She nodded and looked around. No one had noticed what we had been up to and where we had reached.
“Our flight is the only one left” she said. “The rest of the terminal is completely empty. This is a huge terminal. Some of the restrooms will be completely empty.”
“Tell you what. we’ll do it this way. I’ll go first. You follow me after two or three minutes. No one will notice. If I find an empty restroom with no sign of anyone around, I’ll stand at the entrance. If you see me, walk to it and join me on the women’s side. If you don’t see me, it means there are too many people around.”
“Okay” I said. “But we should be careful of the cameras. They may be on.”
“Not inside” she grinned wickedly.
A couple of minutes later, I got up and started to walk down the long Terminal 3 departure area. It stretched away emptily in front of me for almost half a kilometre. Every fifty metres or so was a restroom. There was a wide common entrance and then you turned left for the ladies’ section and right for the men’s.
I saw her standing at the entrance of the second restroom set from where our gate was, a good distance down. As soon as she spotted me walking down, she disappeared inside. It took me a little while to reach there, but I forced myself to walk slowly and casually.
I reached the entrance and turned left into the women’s section, my heart beating really fast. I was steeping into a ladies’ loo after all. I saw that the door to the last stall was open, and she was peering through the gap. Then I almost ran to join her. She pulled me in and shut the door. Fortunately, the restrooms are maintained to a high standard in T3, and the place smelled clean and fresh.
She had already taken off her jacket and hung it up on the hook, and also her jeans. Her panties were down on one ankle already. and her shirt open with no bra. We wasted no time.
We grabbed each other and kissed fiercely. I had never held such a young girl since my marriage and the sensation of a supple and toned body in my arms was indescribable. I roughly squeezed her breasts and nipples and move my hand down and inserted one finger into the entrance to her vagina. I flicked her clitoris a couple of times. Her pussy felt like a tight, hot, slick furnace.
“Put it in” she whispered. “Don’t waste time. Just fuck me.”
Her hands had already loosened my belt and I fumbled out of one leg of my trousers and boxers and let them lie at my ankle like her. I was wearing a tee shirt, and she yanked it off and pushed it onto her jacket on the hook. Then she raised one leg and placed it on the closed toilet. My penis was hard and jumping away. She took it in her hand and guided me in, and I rammed my hips forward to push it all the way.
She let out a muffled squeal as I started fucking her hard and fast. She was also responding equally, jack-knifing her hips back and forth and mashing her breasts against my chest. I put my hands on her ass and pulled her towards me. Her buttocks were firm and muscular. It was fantastic to be fucking a young woman again.
Her movements got more and more frantic, and I sensed she was about to come quite soon. She was gasping raggedly now, and then suddenly she opened her mouth and bit down hard on my shoulder.
I couldn’t take it any longer and I knew I was about to come too. We hammered each other as though this was the last thing in our lives. Then suddenly her body started to shake, and she jammed her hips and breasts against me as her orgasm ripped through her. That set me off and I came harder than I could remember, again and again like a volcano into her twisting, clenching cunt.
We held each other wordlessly for a couple of minutes and then she disengaged her body from mine and got quickly dressed. I noticed she made no attempt to clean up her cunt, but pulled her panties tight up against it. When I was dressed, she opened the door and peered out. Then she walked to the entrance looked out and came running back.
“All clear” she whispered. “There’s no one anywhere close. Run to the entrance. I’ll follow in a minute.”
Then she hugged me hard and whispered for a short time in my ear. My mouth fell open in astonishment and she almost laughed out loud.
“Now go” she whispered.
The flight had been called by then. I joined the queue and did not look round. I fell asleep as soon as I sat down in my seat. I never saw her again.
But I remembered always what she had whispered into my ear at the very end.
“My boyfriend in Bangalore will be waiting for me. He’ll think that I’m so wet because I couldn’t wait to be with him. Then he’ll find out, without knowing it because I’ll never tell him, what it’s like to make love to a woman soon after she had sex with another man.
‘Like you did in Hong Kong.”