My hand moved down, finding her navel under her crop top. I ticked it a bit, then moved slightly to the side. She was wearing a slit skirt so I had little trouble sliding my hand in. I tried to find the elastic band of her panties but encountered only what felt like soft fur. A thrill shot through me when it came to me that she was pantyless. I found her lips quickly and her entrance shortly after. There was no warning whatsoever -- within ten seconds she came all over my hand without moving a muscle, seemingly engrossed in the movie. I retrieved my hand and smeared her juices on her lips-- with luck, most people would assume it was lip gloss. The movie ended and we stood to leave. I ran my hand lightly over her bum to check if some wetness had seeped through. 'I'm wearing nylon,' she winked. 'I always do when I don't wear panties.' 'You're a hypocrite,' I said in mock shock. 'Come on, I do have needs, you know.' We had hardly let ourselves in through my door than she. At least that’s what I saw in her. When I went back with the coffee I decided to open up. ‘Tell me, honey, did you not enjoy it that day? Why the big fuss?’ ‘Oh that’s all, is it? A big fuss! A woman does not want to be in a situation like that, where she is… where she is unsure of what might happen to her. You are still married and who am I to be with you? ‘Listen, listen,’ I interrupted. ‘We love each other and we made love. I did not force it and you enjoyed it didn’t you?’ ‘Enjoying it doesn’t mean that it’s right.’ ‘So you did enjoy it and if that’s the case it must be right.’ I was firm in my tone and looked her right in the eye. ‘Chuck, you don’t understand me, or an Indian woman. We don’t turn on passion when the situation demands. It is much more involved and commitment based. Please understand.’ She went on and on about what a relationship is and where intimacy should begin and what ingredients must be there always for the relationship to mature and how much she respected.
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