He thrusts in and out of me, slowly to start with, and I raise and lower my hips in counterpoint, meeting each of his forays, which seem to get deeper and deeper. Then I wrap my legs around him again, squeeze hard, and my clitoris is crushed against his lower belly, where his pubic hair ends, and I feel the fizzing start – the onset of orgasm. I clench the walls of my cunt, sucking them in as far as I can, feeling that I fit Hari like a glove of flesh. His movements become more irregular as he too begins to lose control. The boat beneath us rocks precariously, beating a ragged pulse against the shore that echoes Hari’s movements. His hands are full of my breasts and I feel my nipples harden beneath his palms as I begin to be engulfed by my climax.
‘Oh God, Hari,’ I hear myself say. ‘Oh God.’ And indeed it is as if something religious is overcoming me, something mystical. I close my eyes and behind them there is a burning white light as my brain catches fire, sparked off by the explosion inside me. For a moment I go numb, and floppy, but Hari keeps moving within me, slowly, and after a few minutes I am amazed to feel myself on the verge of climax again. I dig my nails into the flesh of his buttocks and he arches up away from me, teeth gritted in his own ecstasy, as I come again.
For a time we just lie there. Then Hari kisses me fully on the mouth and says, ‘We have to be going now. It’ll be dark soon and I don’t have a light.’
‘And your friends are waiting for you.’
‘Right.’
We travel the rest of the way in near silence, but it’s a companionable silence. I sit behind Hari as he steers us through the narrow waterways, watching the muscles of his strong, shapely back shift according to what he is doing, and I think that I trust him wholly with my heart.
Mooring at Kochi, we head straight for Hari’s friend Pandit’s apartment, where we sit up until late, drinking toddy and talking about the proposed new development and ways of opposing it. I don’t contribute much, but I listen intently and think a lot about how I might help the cause.
After a late dinner in a nearby restaurant, we go back to the flat, where Pandit makes up his sofabed for us. Bloated by curry, I don’t feel up to making love again, though I want Hari even more than I did earlier; his presence intoxicates me. I compromise by giving him a long slow blow job, looking into his eyes, which glitter in this room lit only by the streetlamps outside. He threads his fingers through my hair as he comes in my mouth, whispers my name as if uttering an invocation to the gods. Afterwards we hold each other for a long time.
At dawn, still sleepless, we creep out and borrow Hari’s friend’s scooter to take us to the beach. For a while we just walk, talking about our families, and then Hari says he wants to rest so we sit down.
I stare at him in the soft blue light of dawn, and I want to tell him that I love him. But he stops me, just nods, and I know that he knows. We kiss, as if we’ll never come apart again. When we do, he lies back against the sand, eyes closed, and my breath catches in my throat at the beauty of his skin, mahogany dark in the moonlight, aglow like a swathe of silk. Pulse throbbing in my ears as if competing with the plash of the waves on the shore, I arch one leg and straddle him. For a moment I look down and survey my prize, already peeling my bikini bottoms down towards my knees, though part of me wants to freeze the moment, to hold onto it for a lifetime. Then he opens his eyes and smiles up at me, and I lose control all over again.
30
I ARRIVE IN Kerala without advance warning. I haven’t been able to get hold of Nadia on her mobile and I forgot the name of the café that she wanted me to call and leave a message at. But it doesn’t matter: I’ve made quicker time than she’ll have anticipated, having found space on a flight from Goa directly to Kochi, and from there I splashed out on a taxi all the way to Kovalam.
Arriving at her cottage, I find that she’s not here. That’s no problem, I think; I’ll just relax and read at a nearby café. Already I’m feeling more relaxed, more myself again. I thought it would be such a wrench to leave Chris, but now that I have, I feel only relief. Pleasure, after all, is transient. What he gave me couldn’t be held onto. The pain, however, went on.
Or yes, he did give me something that I could hold onto. He gave me a greater knowledge of my own body and of how to please it, together with a deeper understanding of sex not just as passion and climax but as something that can be drawn out, savoured, experienced at a much deeper level than most people think, than I ever thought possible. These are things that I can use in the future, wherever my future may take me.
I’m reading my book when the café owner strikes up conversation with me and, realising that I’m Nadia’s mum, tells me she left for Kochi yesterday, with a local fisherman’s son. I’m taken aback, but I remind myself that she wouldn’t have expected me so soon.
‘Is that Ajay, the fisherman?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ says the owner.
‘You don’t happen to know where he lives?’
He nods, fetches a pencil and a scrap of paper and draws me a little map. It’s not far away, and when I’ve finished my lassi I pick up my bag and walk along the narrow track that leads there. I’m greeted by a gaggle of incredibly cute chocolate-brown children, who gather round me and ask if I’m really Nadia’s mum.
Ajay himself stands in the doorway. Despite his grin full of gaps where teeth have given up the ghost, he’s a handsome man, with a roguish twinkle in his eyes.
‘Greetings,’ he says. ‘You must be Val.’
We shake hands and I meet his gaze. There’s something between us, I know it at once, but I don’t entirely welcome the instant rapport. I’m exhausted by all that has happened – first Charles, then the camel driver and most latterly Chris. The last thing I need is another romantic entanglement. I’m erotically burnt out, and emotionally too.
Ajay confirms that Hari has gone to Kochi on what he describes as ‘political matters’ and that he has taken Nadia with him. I don’t ask if his son is involved with my daughter; I’ll find out soon enough. He suggests a boat trip out to see dolphins, to kill time until their return, which he estimates will be later this afternoon or early evening. First, though, he offers to cook me some fish for lunch. He goes inside and I hear him rattling pans. I sit down on the ground, smile, so glad to be here.
31
I ARRIVE BACK at Kovalam exhausted but happier than I’ve ever felt in my life. To my surprise, as Hari and I approach the shack, hand in hand, I see Mum sitting outside it with Ajay, chatting and laughing with him as she drinks fresh coconut milk from a shell. She sees us coming and waves merrily, and suddenly I feel a bit sheepish. I’d have preferred to tell her about Hari first, rather than have her catch us unawares like this.
‘I arrived super-fast,’ she says, standing up to hug me, ‘and came to find Ajay. He’s been taking good care of me.’
I squint at her in the sunlight, wondering quite what kind of care he’s been administering.
Hari lets go of my hand and approaches his dad, and I suggest to Mum that we go for a stroll and leave the men in peace to catch up on what’s been discussed in Kochi.
‘Sure,’ she says, and as we walk towards the beach she tells me about her trip out to see dolphins, and about how she spent the late afternoon getting to know Ajay’s kids.
Shading my eyes, I smile wryly. ‘It sounds like you two having been getting on like a house on fire,’ I say.
She chuckles throatily. ‘He’s a lovely man,’ she says. ‘And maybe if it hadn’t been for the others – I don’t know, maybe I’d have been tempted. In fact, I am tempted. But I’ve actually decided to go back to the UK early. I have things to sort out. And I don’t want to play games with Ajay in the way that people have played games with me.’
‘What kind of things?’ I say suspiciously, half wondering if she’s not actually going to sneak back to Chris rather than head back to the UK.
‘Your father,’ she says softly.
I stop and turn to her on the sand, mouth open. ‘Dad?’ I say unnecessarily.
> She nods, and she can hardly bring herself to look at me, though there’s a joyful radiance to her face I’ve never seen before.
‘I’m not sure a mother should talk to her daughter in this way,’ she says, ‘but to hell with it. You see, if there’s anything I’ve learnt during this trip, it’s how to please myself. I’ve discovered myself, well, how shall I put it … discovered myself sexually at last. That all sounds very selfish. But I’ve realised that learning about how to please oneself is the first step in learning how to please others. And I truly believe that I can use what I have found out about myself – about my body – to bring my relationship with your dad back to life.’
‘You’re getting back with Dad?’
‘I hope so.’
I burst into tears, let myself fall into the arms she holds open for me. ‘Oh, Mum,’ I say, but I don’t know how to go on. I don’t need to: she’s aware how happy she’s made me.
‘I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to abandon you here, without a travelling companion, but …’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say.
‘You’re staying here?’
‘Yes, with Hari. I love him.’
‘Oh.’ She looks stunned. ‘I mean,’ she says when she’s recovered herself, ‘he seems like a lovely boy, from the two minutes I saw him, and as Ajay’s son I can’t imagine he’d be anything but. But … but what will you do here?’
‘I’m going to write, become a journalist specialising in environmental issues in India, particularly Kerala. Raise the world’s awareness of the tragedies that are going to unfurl here if the West doesn’t change its ways.’
‘And you will make a living that way?’
‘Yes, and perhaps by also doing some PR work for ecologically friendly hotels and places like that.’
‘And you don’t think you’ll regret not going to uni?’
‘I realised as soon as I got to India that I wasn’t really into that, that I needed something more solid to believe in. Something to dedicate my life to. And besides, if it all turns out to be a huge mistake, there’s nothing to stop me coming back and getting a degree when I’m older.’
‘Seems like I’m not the only one who discovered myself in India,’ says Mum, stroking my hair.
I look back up the beach, see Ajay and Hari walking towards us. We turn in their direction, set out to meet them. My eyes, as I move over the sand, are full of Hari.
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Black Lace books contain sexual fantasies.
In real life, always practise safe sex.
First published in 2008 by
Black Lace
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Copyright © Carrie Williams 2008
The right of Carrie Williams to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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ISBN 978 0 352 34178 5
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
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