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Old 04-11-2017, 07:32 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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