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Old 04-11-2017, 06:32 AM
kamina_pati kamina_pati is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Starting a new story. It would be nice to have some encouragement, comments, advice, anything. Thanks in advance.
So far, the set up is relatively slow. There will be sex of course, but later. All good things come to those who wait.


Sonia and Anil

Chapter 1

“What is this?” Sonia’s voice was shrill. She might as well have said, what the fuck is this, from the shrewish tone of her voice. Anil flinched at the interruption and whirled around from his laptop. He’d been absorbed, looking at pornographic images on the internet on his favorite website (in incognito mode of course; he suspected Sonia sometimes snooped and it just wouldn’t do for her to find out his kinks), and worried for a second that his browsing habits had been discovered. A momentary thought passed through his mind, so what, it wasn’t a crime. And if she did find out, big fuck.

But it wasn’t that. She was holding up a piece of paper. What was it? Damn. It looked like some kind of receipt, in fact two of them, the kind that came out of cash machines, long and skinny and curled up. Hard to mistake it for anything else.

Keep calm, he told himself and squinted at the paper Sonia held up. He assumed his most innocent expression, but his mind was racing at a million miles an hour.

“What is it baby?” He spoke in his most sugary tone. He almost never called her baby. It was, in a way, a tell, but he hadn’t realized it. Every time he lied to her, he would call her baby. He would realize it later, much later, when Sonia told him.

Holding the pieces of paper aloft, Sonia walked deliberately from the laundry area of their small apartment—double-decker washer-dryer by General Electric for space saving according to the realtor—across the carpeted floor toward him. She was wearing a white t-shirt and the dark areoles of her small bra-less breasts were clearly visible in the bright sunlight that streamed in through the window. Her smooth h***less legs, toned and beautiful were almost entirely exposed beneath her short cut-offs. She was beautiful, yes, but not right at that moment. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and her mouth pursed. He could almost imagine smoke coming out of her nostrils, like a cartoon bull before it charged. The hand holding the pieces of paper shook slightly, like she was making a point. She stopped just beyond his reach and looked at the paper.

“Looks like dinner for two at La Manchu.” She read it out in a singsong, ostentatiously irritating newscaster voice. La Manchu was a Chinese fusion restaurant that Anil loved but Sonia was lukewarm about. She now looked at the other piece of paper, “And a one night stay bill from the Red Roof Inn.” Her hands were on her hips now. “Both in Framingham. And to refresh your memory, this was on the night you were supposed to be at the conference in Chicago. You did return on Sunday morning like you were supposed to, but not directly from Chicago like you were supposed to. You actually returned on Saturday, I don’t know exactly when, and spent the night in Framingham.”

She delivered the words like a prosecuting attorney would, all implication and innuendo. Heavy on the sarcasm as well. The word ‘actually’ was emphasized in a particularly damning way, like that would destroy any and all arguments. Like a 50 cal bullet that might rip a man to shreds from a mile away. She stood three feet away, hands on hips, and glared at him. Lasers beamed out of her eyes. Lasers that would burn right through to Anil’s heart and ferret out the truth.

Anil’s thoughts were, if anything, ******* even faster, an overclocked intel processor. He started to say, “Honey, that’s not mine. I loaned my jacket to Phil—you remember Phil, right? My colleague from the company?—Yeah, he had to borrow it, so that must be it.” That would imply he had stayed back in Chicago and actually only returned on Sunday. But she might have called the hotel and found out when he had really checked out. Could she have done that? Was she smart enough? He guessed she was. She was, after all, chief of cybersecurity at Macson, a decent sized cloud computing company. His next thought was, “Oh that! I did have to return a day earlier…I had to take a client out for dinner and then put him up at the motel.” But then, why hadn’t he told her? And what explanation could there be for spending the night away from home? Fuck! He was backed into a corner.

Sonia gave him a half-smile. “I called the Four Seasons in Chicago and found out exactly when you checked out. I also hacked your phone records, so I know where you were that Saturday night.” That ‘exactly’ again.
Anil’s stomach plummeted at these words. Shit, he thought. He was well and truly caught.

“The only question that remains is, who is she.” Sonia’s tone was implacable. Shit, she’s going to divorce me, he thought in a sudden panic, his stomach doing a little flip like in an abruptly descending elevator.

Anil sat silent, his head bent, staring at the laptop. He had already killed the browser window (of course), but now he was thinking, what can I do to salvage the situation? Come on, come on, come on Anil, you’re smart, you can write code in ten languages, surely you can figure out a way?

“What? Nothing to say? You miserable bastard!” Her voice rising, she flung the pieces of paper at him, then picked up a cushion and threw that too.
He looked up from his laptop, still wondering what to say. Despite the predicament he found himself in, he found he had a raging hard-on under the laptop. In fact, he was having to press down on the keyboard in order to not let the machine slide off his lap. Sonia looked ravishing in her fury. The late afternoon sun in the window was behind her, and silhouetted her tight athletic body beautifully. He had a sudden urge to rip off her clothes and fuck her right there on the couch like a cheap slut. Like his friend Sanjay had once said in college while stinking drunk—they had all been drinking and the conversation had veered around to one of the professors’ wives—take her like a ghodi. Doggy style in other words, but perhaps the guy had grown up around horses otherwise he might have said kutti. Sanjay had made graphic gestures, one hand miming the holding of reins that he pulled back, ostensibly tangled in the imaginary woman’s h***, the other slapping her rump, his hips going back and forth in short jerky movements. They had all laughed uproariously, but the image had stayed. He knew she would have loved it too, just like that as a matter of fact, but under different circumstances. This was not the time to go all cave man on her.

He raised his hands placatingly and kept them up until she looked calm enough to listen. Maybe not to reason, but at least hear what he had to say. “I’ll tell you everything,” he said, “but give me a few hours to gather my thoughts.”
She scoffed. “So you can make up a good story?”

“No…Sonia, I love you…we have been married almost four years and my love for you is as strong as it was on day one.” Cheesy words, but he knew they were true. There must have been some sincerity in his tone for her features softened a little.

“You know I can’t live without you Sonia.”

“So what is all this then?” She sounded less angry, maybe a little sad he thought. Not yet on the verge of tears. If she was, he could take her in his arms and kiss them away and then have make up sex. He shook his head, clearing the fantasies. This was no time for that kind of approach. Full disclosure time, and if she accepted it, well and good. He didn’t really have a Plan B, and he hoped like hell she would accept his explanation for cheating on her.

“I know it will sound like a tired old line from a movie or something, but there is more to it than you think. Really. Just give me a couple hours to put it together and I will tell you everything. After that you can decide what you want to do, I won’t interfere or ask you to change your decision, whatever it may be.”

Sonia walked into the bedroom and shut the door. She didn’t slam it as he had expected, and that was encouraging. He thought she was intrigued toward the end, and definitely less angry. A few minutes later, as he sat putting his thoughts in order, Sonia emerged from the bedroom. She had changed into a halter top and tight skinny jeans and put on some make-up. At thirty-one, she did not need a lot, and anything she did only embellished her beauty. Her face was carefully neutral.

“I’ll go out for a while,” she said, “while you put together your thoughts.” She made *** quotes. There was a little less heat in her tone now, but she flounced out nevertheless. Her four inch heels clacked on the parquet floor near the entryway, the door opened, closed, and she was gone. A whiff of her perfume, the combination of Sonia and Euphoria by Calvin Klein was all that was left, wafting into his nostrils from the force of the door closing. For a second he wondered if he would ever see her again.

Anil sat back in his ch*** and started thinking. Hard.
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  #2  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:33 AM
totapuri totapuri is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

nice one ... continue pls
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  #3  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:34 AM
goldfish goldfish is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

keep going the plot seems to be good let's see how you take it up further, if Sonia is thinking of a divorce then her going into a night stand or whatever is not called for at this stage, perhaps later when she falls into a dilemma and gets weaken on her resolves.
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  #4  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:34 AM
gabbar gabbar is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks. I will follow your suggestion.
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  #5  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:36 AM
kaamdev kaamdev is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Well, Lone Wolf, thanks for the thought. But what I have is darker I think. Let me know if you enjoy it.
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  #6  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:36 AM
rocki rocki is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

good start
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  #7  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:38 AM
sherkhan sherkhan is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Excellent start! Love the details.

Some comments .....just thinking out aloud (means you've really piqued my interest).

Curious how a wife would allow a husband time to prepare a story on his own while she goes out for some time (but that's how the story goes.....)

And should our heroine be slutting around like days of yore even before our hero gets a chance to make his statement? Perhaps I'm jumping the gun here. All we know is that she is getting excited and wet downst***s at the thought of an old flame.

Surely there is a reason why she stayed "dry" since she got married? To give up at the first sign of husband straying implies....you can never change the spots on a leopard. But she's not a leopard and she has been "dry".

She's clearly got divorce on her mind already and now she's getting "wet" for RastaMan. Why give the husband a chance to prepare when your mind is already made up? If she is going to divorce him, slutting around doesn't matter....no loyalty, love, respect or ties left to keep. Slutting might hurt him doubly (they're in love or were), like a kick in the teeth even as she divorces him. But methinks, even after divorcing, no need to go back to the old gutter.

Personally, I think its a shame to so easily give up love and marriage. But finding out about a partner's infidelity is devastating.

Now you've got me going!!! Can't wait for your next update....
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  #8  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:39 AM
desiman7 desiman7 is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Thanks Breville. I am still in the process of writing, but I think (doesn't everyone?) that this plot is a little hatke.

Foogy helped me with the initial chapters and gave me valuable insight. One of the things she said after reading about Sonia's reaction to seeing Michael's car was "Yikes, this isn't going to be a romance is it?"

The answer is no. It is darker, much darker. As will be clear soon enough. At this moment, I plan to interweave Anil's and Sonia's flashbacks to create more interest. Anil's flashback is more recent; Sonia's is more remote.

Feel free to continue critiquing as you have. Thanks
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  #9  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:41 AM
totapuri totapuri is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Chapter 4

Sonia

Sonia’s Flashback


Sonia was instantly transported to the apartment complex she had lived in so many years ago.

She was sitting by the pool one summer afternoon, soon after she had turned eighteen with her friend, Roshni.

“Hey,” Roshni said, “did you see that new guy with the orange Camaro?”

“Hmm…not really. Who is he?”

She turned her attention to Roshni. Behind her, Sonia could see the complex of red-brick-facade buildings with green faux-gabled roofs, the expanses of grass and carefully placed trees and bushes to give the appearance of privacy and intimacy.

“Oh,” replied Roshni, “he is this gorgeous…drool worthy guy. He is Indian…I think, but born here, in the US. But his name is Micheal. That’s what he said.”

Sonia had indeed seen the guy in question, actually ogled him secretly from her balcony and from behind the bushes as he sped about within the complex, over the speed limit, in his sports car.

Roshni then went on to describe exactly drool-worthy Michael really was, how she had seen other girls eyeing him, how he had an easy smile, brilliant teeth, a great body—she had apparently seen him at the pool one day in swimming trunks—and on and on and on. Sonia too had seen Michael in his swim trunks one afternoon from her balcony, but she didn’t mention this to Roshni.

“Are you…um…dating him?”

Sonia knew Roshni dated occasionally, and probably was not a virgin any more. Her small town ethics told her that this was a bad thing, an unacceptable thing even, especially for an Indian girl, but with Roshni somehow it did not seem to matter.

“Well…he and I have gotten together,” she said and arched one eyebrow.
Sonia presumed this meant she’d had sex with the guy. But Roshni was well shielded in her dark wraparound shades and she could not tell what she was thinking.

“And…” Sonia made a give-me-more gesture with both hands.

“His place is over there,” she said, jerking her thumb toward the rear of the complex where the garbage dump was situated next to the unused logging trail.
“Any good…in the sack?” She felt awkward asking this question since she herself had no experience, but she had gauged Roshni pretty well.

Roshni giggled, then threw her head back and guffawed. “Pretty fucking good,” she said when her laughter had subsided.

Then her face clouded. Her good mood was suddenly gone like a person finding a worm in a fruit they have been enjoying.

“You know that Lisa? She’s been making eyes at Michael for a while, and I’m not sure…” Roshni trailed off.

It was clear to Sonia that Roshni was uncertain about Michael. Roshni was a great gossip, and had tidbits about every boy that was even remotely interesting, and this included the married men in the complex, and sometimes even the fathers and uncles who would come to visit. Pretty much no one over the age of sixteen was spared.

“You mean that Hispanic girl Lisa? What…is he cheating you with her?”

“Cheating on you,” Roshni corrected automatically.

Roshni had lived in the United States for far longer than she had, and therefore accepted her as a senior and a mentor. Roshni could occasionally correct her accent, tell her things like, “I will be out of town,” instead of “out of station,” and generally came to oversee Sonia’s complete Americanization. One of the earliest embarrassing errors Sonia made was, of course, to call an eraser a rubber. Later, they would laugh about it but Sonia would turn still red.

“Sorry, cheating on you.”

Sonia tried her best to blend into the school system, but for the first several months found herself hanging out with the other Indian girls who like her, were immigrants themselves. The desi girls who had been born in America had no Indian accents and despised the “recently off the boat” people. As a result, Sonia tried her hardest to get rid of her Indian accent.

“Well, I’m, not sure about it.” Roshni frowned. She developed a cute little wrinkle on her nose when she did that. “But if I ever catch him at it, his ass is grass.”

That expression. And the easy, comfortable way Roshni said it. Sonia felt she needed to learn American idioms and sayings tried mightily by using the free English language tapes at the local library, audiobooks, free lessons at the school for people who spoke English as a second language, and slowly but surely, her accent improved to the point where people could not tell where she was from, at least in short conversations. Longer ones took more effort and her accent would lapse, but overall, she thought she was doing pretty well.

Besides, her name was easy for Americans to say, and with her light complexion, she could pass for a Latina or perhaps someone from Southern Europe, especially if she dressed the part.

“Sooo…” she said, changing tack, "Rakesh is history?”

“Oh yes…I didn’t sleep with him, you know…just a hand job a couple times, and the poor fuck, he was so happy. I told him that his dick was too big for me… Roshni began to giggle. Her large breasts, barely contained in her swimsuit jiggled.

Sonia glanced at the undulating tit-flesh and sighed. How she wished she too had such mammaries. She glanced down at her own, more modestly covered smaller boobs and sighed.

“…and the poor fuck, he believed me!”

Roshni was now laughing hysterically, her whole body shaking. Sonia pictured the absurd Rakesh, joined her in the mirth, and soon both of them were all but rolling on the floor.

The complex was largely populated by Indians, families usually with small kids, and singles always on the prowl. Rakesh was one such single. His h*** was in the latest Bollywood style and with his knock off Ray-Bans, he assumed it was his birthright to pursue any girl he fancied.

Roshni continued talking, oblivious of Sonia’s thoughts. “You know, you really need to get laid…you’re going to be an old maid soon.” She idly rubbed the front of her crotch over the tiny triangle of dark cloth covering her cunt.

Sonia glanced at it quickly—it was impossible not to—and glanced away, but she was sure there was a dark stain there. Surely Roshni couldn’t be getting aroused from just talking about sex, could she? But the truth was that she too was getting a little tingly down there.

Of course boys. Roshni’s favorite topic. Second only to sex. It wasn’t like Sonia was not curious about boys, but most of her energies had been directed at settling in the new country with strange customs, school with unusual routines, the language, the accent that for the first several moths she could not even fully comprehend, and even the other Indians in the apartment complex were very different from what they had been back home in Jabalpur.

Roshni leaned over and ran her index finger over Sonia’s chest, between her breasts and down to her belly. “This jawaani,” she said with a giggle, “will not last forever, you know. Time’s a wasting…I can fix you up with a friend of Michael’s if you want.”

Subsequent events would prove however that Roshni’s assessment of Michael was wrong, oh so wrong, and that she had been viewing him through the proverbial rose colored glasses.
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  #10  
Old 04-11-2017, 06:42 AM
aamjayadakha aamjayadakha is offline
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Default Sonia and Anil

Carry on? No?
This is an original story. I have the outline but have not written it yet, so after the initial set up, I will take suggestions. Meanwhile, next update will come in a few days.
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