He hit the button on the remote that causes the DVR to skip back and repeat what just played. It was a corny commercial for Old Spice featuring a han...some black man donning only a towel. He spoke in a deep, sexy voice and said something like, “Hello ladies. Look at your man. Now back at me. Now back at your man. Now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me. But if he stopped using lady-scented body wash and switched to Old Spice he could smell like me.” The commercial went on with comical parade. All the while in the trip, I was very sorry and thinking about my wife and how she is going to survive. As soon as I entered my hotel room, I called my wife.But what is this, there is no sign of grief in her voice. This was kind of strange to me. I enquired about this. She said, you remember Arun, whom we met last time and he was guest at our flat, is in Bangalore today. He got recently married and he is with his wife in the city. Prema has invited him for dinner. Then I enquired how it is. We got together in the fall, which was the topic of my last story. Since then, we have been texting in addition to a couple of well-placed phone calls. Fantasizing what we would do has been my only sexual outlet. Self-gratification is my only alternative at the moment.It's not as fulfilling, but it serves the purpose until we can craft something more meaningful. I have been yearning to have a mutual masturbation encounter, but what finally transpired far exceeded my expectations.My wife and I. ”“Why? Have you looked at anything contrary to the laws of this country?”“No, but—”“I cannot promise you that I will ever do anything you have watched, or even like your watching it. But I can promise you that I will not hurt you.”Tony looked at her. She was asking him to share his deepest, most perverted fantasies with her. This was an act of intimacy far beyond anything they’d done before.Yet had he not, in a different way, asked her to change her life, to trust his judgment? Could he not do.
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