FF: New York times with Maan&Geet Thread 4 09/13 - Page 16

Seeing her like that, it occurred to him that, there were some women who didn't know the power, their beauty wielded on men and then there were those who knew it like the back of their hand; and this whole other faction of women who come to realize of it with passing time. Perhaps she was of the latter kind, he thought; his eyes came alive, wide with realization, as he was stunned with the provocative smile and luring touch with which she pushed him forward. His awe continued to rise as her musical laughter rang with a sharp jingle in his ears. And she couldn't help chuckle when he moved only with her mere thrust on his back, very much like that of a voodoo doll in her hands.

"Maan...you have to stop drooling" she said trying to break the stupor he was in. But his eyes refused to face onward, while she was still beside him, as they stepped into the wet sod hand in hand. He saw her in new light, and literally too, when the silver beams of the moon, petering through the clearing in the trees, came down as light threads of confetti. The cool breeze tickled her coiled ringlets making him raise an inanimate hand towards her face. As he met her black kohl lined eyes, her lashes fanning his dark desires further, she gave a shy smile puncturing another hole in his already dented heart. His gaze darted low, taking inventory of her heinous schemes to daze him, with the revealing blouse, scandalous tie of the sari and the eddy of a nose ring, he was hopelessly caught under. Who said one needed to bare themselves of clothes to seduce a man? She was, in his mind, creating new meaning to all things enticing, when she appropriately concealed and revealed her womanly frame, to play a sensual hide and seek with his wanton attention.

He wondered if she had always sported this personality in her and if she had waited until the precipice of the moment to peel this side of her to him. There was some suspicion, in him, if she had a heavy agenda for the night. For her devious little stunt, couldn't just come out of nowhere, when they were in his brother-in-law's home, of all places in the world. Apparently, he was beginning to know his wife.

He could have held on to the ground frozen, with his hand cupping her cheek, but she wanted to get further away from the entry way and so she hauled him playfully by his wrist in the direction of the willow tree by the far corner of the property.

"That message...your text" He stumbled with words, still stuck by her beauty and while still on the move.

"Oh!" she turned to face him " I just sent it a bit early" she said as she persisted to take him near the brook by the tree. Her explanation, no doubt, confused him, alongside her musing smile. Perhaps this was how one could live through dreams in reality, he thought now.

Once they were there, she settled on the stone bank, having him perch next to her, his eyes never having left her face or her form, until the very moment.

Panting from the almost run, she huffed while she raised her hand to his shoulder and balanced her face on her upper arm. As she lifted her gaze alone to meet his, she feared she would slip from the motive she was here to achieve. How else could she explain the strong urge to close the arm-length distance between them and be within his breath's notice.

It was a serene, calm night with ebbing silence that spoke of a storm that was coming. The dark sullen clouds had cleared up above, perhaps now engaged in a drunken brawl, for lightening sparked the horizon. Moisture hung thick in the wet air, ready to be frozen to form veils of ice beads. And slightly miffed stars, jealous over the pearly luminescence of the moon lay scattered far away from it, hoping to be wooed. At least that is how she was seeing the world with him, bordering on corniness, by his standards. When such mystical night sprawled the mighty dome of sky above and around them, he took her hand that was resting on his shoulder and placed a kiss in the inside of her palm.

She shivered that moment, with the touch of his lips and pulled back her hand fisting them tightly in her lap. Lifting her feet off the ground, she swiveled about her position, and let her feet down the rippling cool water that lashed silently on the sides of the bank. The smooth round pebbles, eased the course of nervousness that raced in her body. Brilliant, she thought to herself, as she realized she had less restrain than him to keep herself in check in their brother-in-law's garden. Now her worries were beginning to focus more on herself than him. Well, she needed some time, before they could have their way with each other, for she wanted to talk first.

Her act of pulling away amused him, like that of being in a pursuit and the myriad of emotions of her face, puzzled him further. There was no possible explanation, other than want to lug on his carnal strains, for why she was dressed as an enchantress. And yet her coy self had surfaced momentarily, when she had pulled away from him, launching another doubt in his mind. Was this a deliberate game that she was leading him onto? Her intentions unreadable, she was misinterpreted for being naive in more ways than one, he thought. He could ponder on about what number befitted to make up her age, given the ploys she was learning fast. By then the tuft of hair that moved apart with a stroke of cool breeze around her back distracted his stream of thought. His hand lifted on its own accord and his index finger pushed aside the veil of dark veil of hair that shielded her back from his indulgent eyes. Mounding up her other shoulder from the force of his finger, her reluctant curls, parted her lavish back to be preyed upon by his finger. Her head fell back as a creek of need burst open on her skin in the same path his fingers travelled down her deep expanse, as he inched himself closer. But just as he was about to replace his finger for his lips, she jerked up standing on her stumbling feet, the rocky pebbles, offering much less stability, she trudged further into the pool. As the water level, rose up her feet and splashed even with her nimble movement, it made her sari wet up until her knees.

Moments later, she felt him close behind him, his breath gently stoking her nape. His arms came to cage her in his hold, as she tilted her head sideways to meet his gaze.

"So...if this walk of yours is over, we can go back upstairs" He drawled as he nibbled on her ears.

It never had dawned to her, before the time, she saw his lustful eyes by the entryway, that perhaps it was undeniably easy to be carried away in the undercurrents of passion that gaped at her. The frigid air only aided to bring up her gooseflesh, as his flitting fingertips traced the length of her arm length down to encircle her waist, beneath her aanchal.

"M...a...a...n..." she fluted his name as he affected her with his touch. The scenery faded in her vision and the puddling sound of the waterfall, swathed in his breath by her cheek. A brilliant sensual symphony it was, as her senses focused on nothing but his caress on her naked skin.

Such was the overbearing pull of the togetherness they shared after two weeks, when his last trip over the previous weekend had given no state of mind or privacy to indulge in each other. As much as she wanted to prolong the teasing moment, she suffered from a coherent need to convey her want to belong with him in a deeper sense. When her mind lay burdened, her body though momentarily subdued, could follow track no longer, proving all the more for a woman that, arousal to conform through intimacy, lay more in her head than any other part of her body. When her eyes complied to the same message, his sight caught the same, causing him to pull away with questioning uncertainty.

Before he could enquire though, she turned around leading him back to the grass lawn, her voice reflective of conviction, growing ebullient slightly, she spoke "I want to play a game...Maan" She smiled.

To be continued...