What are friends for?

Hi all. I’m Varsha. I’m 29 today. But three years ago, I worked in an IT office, had been married for two years, and didn’t have any kids. My husband had a job close to our residence. Life with him was stable, but without the excitement I secretly longed for.

What follows is my experience with Salim, a co-worker of the same company. A tale that moved emotions I did not know existed, leaving me feeling guilty and elated. We were an intimate group of eight: me, Salim, Nitika, Nismath, Aleena, Komal, Anu, and Jacob.

I first met Salim three years ago, and I was struck by his youthfulness. He was 25 and handsome, with a kindness that made me feel understood. I saw how his eyes stayed on me, subtle but not unmarked. It roused something inside of me—a flutter of interest I hid deep down, aware I was married.

Yet I couldn’t help but be attracted to him, the way he smiled so easily. The quiet confidence he exuded drew at a part of me I attempted to suppress. Our discussion extended beyond the office. We’d swap stories about friends, family, hobbies. Things that brought me to life in a manner my monotonous life didn’t.

I felt a bond, a lightness with Salim that made me overlook the drudgery of my days. When Komal, one of the people we worked with, got married, we decided to attend. The enthusiasm of the group was contagious, but when the time arrived, only Salim, Nitika, and I could attend.

I experienced a combination of disappointment and apprehensive excitement—getting close to Salim always set my heart pounding, though I’d never say it. Nitika and I came the previous day because Komal’s house was near Salim’s. We spent the night at his house.

That night, we dressed up and attended the wedding. The euphoria of the occasion was hazy, but I couldn’t help but sense Salim’s proximity. We came back at about 11 p.m. My body was exhausted, but my mind was racing. Nitika, fighting a bad cough and cold, immediately retired to a different room and slept.

I had to wash the day off, so I went to the bathroom. My heart was racing already, even though I had no idea why. Maybe it was the intimacy of staying at Salim’s house, the quiet of the night. Or the way he’d looked at me all evening. Salim, ever thoughtful, brought water for Nitika and me.

By the time he came to my room, Nitika was out cold. I’d just stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only a top, when he walked in. My breath caught, a rush of panic and something else—excitement? —overwhelming me. He put the water down, did not look at me, and left in a rush.

I was stuck there, my face aflame. What had he thought of me? Did he sense the same flame as I did? Shame slipped in. I was a married woman, but here I was speculating about him. He came again shortly after that, knocking gently. I didn’t respond. I was still in shock from the encounter.

I was in the bathroom, attempting to slow my thundering heart, when he opened the door. In a moment of shock, he was behind me, his hand wrapped around my mouth, his arms wrapping around me. My muscles locked up, a combination of fear and shock tinged with a taboo thrill.

I should have pushed him back, screamed, or done something else, but not this. But I didn’t. At heart, I wished for him to remain. He spun me around, his lips on mine in a slow, sensual kiss. My brain cried out to halt, yet my body betrayed me, dissolving into him.

Me: Salim, no… please…

My voice shook, torn between duty and lust.

Salim: Varsha, I’ve desired you from the moment I met you. Please…

His plea cut through me. I realised the yearning in his eyes, reflected in my repressed desires. I stood still, my heart thudding. I thought of my wedding vows and my husband but also the loneliness that greeted me when I returned home.

Salim’s fingers were soft but insistent, awakening something that had lain dormant for so long.

Me: Ahh. Ahh.

Moans slipped out of me as his fingers probed and his lips deepened. I was losing myself, my body giving in despite the warning in my head. In an instant, I pushed him off, my panting gone. I was afraid of what I was feeling—desire, naked and uncontrollable, raging in my eyes.

He turned off the porch light and locked the door. He came back, kissing me with such passion that my knees buckled. I wanted to fight it, but the urge was too great.

Me: Salim, what we’re doing is wrong.

My voice trembled, shame fighting with the flame burning within me.

Salim: Not at all.

His hands drifted to my breasts, squeezing softly. I wasn’t even wearing a bra. The contact sent a shiver through me, awakening a hunger I’d long suppressed.

Me: No, Salim. My husband is everything to me. This is not right. I spoke the words, but they rang hollow. My husband was my anchor, but Salim was a storm, drawing me into dark waters.

Salim: Nothing will happen. I know you desire this, too. If you hadn’t, you would’ve screamed when I held you.

Me: Well…

He was correct. I hadn’t screamed. I hadn’t even attempted to halt him. The reality hurt, and I felt a pinch of shame.

Salim: Please… I require you tonight. It’s been an extended desire.

His vulnerability rendered me powerless. I observed a soft smile pass my face in the mirror of my mind. He’d been so gracious, so polite all this while, and now here he was, exposing his heart. I kissed his forehead, a symbol of capitulation.

Me: You’ve always treated me like gold. You never once suggested this attraction.

Salim: How could I tell you? Your friendship was precious to me. But now, with this chance…

Me: Yeah, yeah.

His words were my thoughts. Our friendship had been secure, but this was a different matter. He swept me up, putting me on the bed, unbuttoning my blouse. I reclined on the bed, half-dressed, exposed but charged with expectation.

My heart pounded with a combination of fear and excitement. His mouth brushed mine once more, then moved on to my breasts. Each caress resonated through me in waves of pleasure, stirring a part of me I’d not known existed. I felt wanted and desired in a manner I hadn’t experienced in years.

I knew he was turned on as he pulled off his shorts. When he dropped his underwear, I couldn’t help but gawk, a rush of awe and shyness flowing over me.

Me: What the…! It’s gigantic! I was really surprised, a nervous snicker escaping me.

Salim: Don’t stare—put it in your mouth.

I was hesitant, my head spinning. I’d never done this with my husband, but something about Salim made it feel like the right thing to do. I stroked him, then sucked him in, letting instinct take the wheel. It was exhilarating and liberating to watch his face.

Salim: Is your husband’s this big?

Me: It’s long, not thick. It’s the fullness that feels good. And, besides, he never takes the time, no foreplay whatsoever.

I caught myself being honest, a flash of anger at my husband’s quick sexuality rising.

Salim: Really? Does he come on top? You’ve been married two years, then?

Me: I see what you’re doing. We attempted a few times, but that didn’t work out. There’s still time. My voice was firm, but I felt a lump of sadness in my chest. We wanted a child, but it hadn’t happened, and I wondered if it ever would.

Salim: Is it safe today? If so, I want to finish inside. Pulling out at the last moment ruins the flow.

Me: It’s not safe, but it’s okay. I’ll take a pill tomorrow.

The words slipped out, reckless and bold. I wanted to feel him fully. Consequences be damned.

Salim: No, that’s risky. End with your mouth.

Me: Oh, really?

Salim: Turn around—69 position.

He took off my panties, and his tongue ran shivers down my spine. I moaned, powerless to suppress it, as I serviced him in return. It was intoxicating, the mutual letting go.

Me: Ahh… ahh…Salim: Feel good? Doesn’t your husband do this?

Me: He’s not into it. Just fast sex.

I felt a pang of resentment, aware of how much I’d been missing.

Salim: A man who doesn’t like this with a woman like you? Is he a man at all?

His words made me feel wanted and loved. He zeroed in on my pussy, and I wriggled, overwhelmed. He inserted a finger, and my gasps increased, my body betraying my control.

Salim: Shh… my dad is downstairs.Me: Do it softly. I’m losing myself in pleasure. I was, really. It felt like my body had been asleep for years, but now it was alive and awake.

Salim: Only one finger? He used saliva and inserted himself slowly. It was a tight, intense moment, and I felt a rush of vulnerability and intimacy.

Me: Ahh… ahh…

I writhed underneath him, lost in the moment.

Me: Go slow. Don’t finish too quickly.

He changed to doggy style, his rate speeding up. My groans echoed around the room, a mixture of fear and pleasure that we’d get caught. He asked me to ride him after a few minutes. I sat in a cowgirl position and guided him inside. Our pace was perfect.

We passionately kissed, my heart bursting with a perilous love. When I eased, he proposed 69 position once again. I was lost in the enjoyment as he savoured me, and I did the same, feeling liberated and daring.

Me: Can I ride you again?

Salim: Let me thrust properly first. You asked me to go slow earlier, so I couldn’t really enjoy it.

He put me down, spread my legs, and pushed steadily. I felt wanted, alive, my body humming with every motion.

Me: Ahh… ahh… harder… faster…Salim: Varsha, I’m close…

Me: Me too. Don’t stop… ahh…

Salim: Should I withdraw?

Me: It’s okay. Go on… ahh…

We reached our peak simultaneously, and he came inside me. I felt a flood of excitement, followed by a flood of guilt. What had I done? But as we collapsed there, breathless, I felt an odd sense of peace.

Salim: How was it? Me: Wow. You really fulfilled me.

My voice was gentle, my heart brimming with feeling. I’d never been this contented.

Salim: Will it be an issue that I finished inside?

Me: We’ll see.

I attempted to maintain a cavalier tone, but my brain was running wild. What if I became pregnant? The possibility was both daunting and exhilarating.

Salim: See? Take a pill tomorrow. What if you got pregnant?

Me: Haha… I could be the mother of your child.

I laughed, but a part of me was serious. Having his child felt curiously natural despite the craziness of it.

Salim: Don’t joke.

Me: What if I am? I explained to you that we had tried before, and it hadn’t worked. Today, I experienced real pleasure for the first time. I want a child with you who taught me this pleasure.

The words spilled out, naked and true. I was surprised at myself, but I meant what I said.

Salim: What are you talking about?

Me: We’re beyond friends. I want this pleasure repeated.

I felt empowered and free, taking what I had never taken before.

Salim: Seriously? If you’re fine with it, I’m more than fine. I’ll teach you what pleasure is.

Me: Salim… I love you…

The words escaped, and I meant them—not the love of matrimony, but a profound, careless love created in this instant.

Salim: I’m so lucky to fill your belly with a child.

He kissed and hugged me, and I melted against him, my heart torn between happiness and shame.

Me: Salim, we don’t even know if this will succeed. And if it doesn’t, you’d better see to it that I become pregnant in the right way.

I was joking half-and-half, my feelings hopelessly confused.

Salim: If you’re all right, I’m twice all right. I’ll give you as many as you wish.

I wished to wash, to straighten my head out, but he refused to let me. We slept naked, wrapped in each other, and for the first time in years, I felt wanted. Tomorrow morning, a knock on the door woke me up.

Nitika: Varsha… open the door.

My heart got stuck in my throat. Salim jumped out of bed, his eyes bulging with fear. I looked at him, my mind reeling. He picked up his clothes and quickly got dressed. I wrapped the blanket over me and walked towards the door. My legs were trembling with the burden of what we’d done.

Nitika: Varsha, are you awake at last?

Me: Getting up… give me two minutes…

My voice shook, guilt and adrenaline pumping through me.

Nitika: Fine, I’ll use the restroom then.

Me: Alright.

I looked at Salim, my heart still racing. I hugged him, kissing him, hoping to cling to the bond we’d created. He pressed me against the wall, kissing the nape of my neck, and I could sense that same flame burning inside of me.

Me (whispering in his ear): How are you going to escape?

Salim: I’ll go to the room where she’s sleeping, and I’ll slip out afterwards.

Me: Alright.

I had packed my clothes and was on my way to the bathroom. My mind was racing with thoughts—fear of getting caught, desire for him more, and shame at cheating on my husband.

Salim: May I come in?

I turned, smiled against my will, and entered. He trailed behind, and when he opened the door, I was naked in the shower, the blanket having been thrown aside. Exposed yet strong, I wanted him in a manner that made my heart fly. His phone rang downstairs, disrupting the moment.

He looked to see if anyone was waiting outside and then departed. I remained under the water, my mind reeling. What was I doing? This was irresponsible and risky, but I couldn’t help but desire him. When he came back, Nitika had bathed.

Nitika: Aren’t you getting ready, Salim? Don’t we have to go? Komal instructed us to arrive early, didn’t she?

Salim: I just wanted to see if you both were awake. I’ll be ready in 10 minutes. How are you now? Is your cold improved?

Nitika: Yeah, it’s better. Go get ready.

Salim: Alright. Breakfast is served downstairs. Mom is going to the temple.

Nitika: Can I accompany her? It’s nearby, isn’t it?

Salim: The temple? It’s roughly 10 minutes away from here. Hurry and get ready then. I’ll inform Mom.

Nitika: Varsha, Mom’s going to the temple. Shall we go with her?

Me: I’m not going. Go on.

Yours was a calm voice, but deep inside, I was in shambles. I needed space to think about it and decide what this meant for me.

Salim: I’ll go get showered and ready. If you’re going, I’ll get Mom to wait for you.

Nitika: I’m going. I’m on my way.

Salim walked downstairs, leaving me by myself. I began to dress in a saree, my hands shaking as I struggled with my feelings. What had I done? What did I desire? When Salim came back, he quietly closed the door. He walked up to me, his coming, revitalising that spark.

Salim: They’ll take at least 30 minutes to return.

Me: So? My tone was teasing, but my heart pounded with anticipation and fear.

Salim: Nothing.

He hugged me and kissed me, and I dissolved, the guilt giving way under the pressure of desire.

Me: What’s your plan, mister? Don’t spoil my saree pleats.

He gently unwrapped my saree, and I thrilled at his touch, my body yearning for more even though it could mean trouble.

Me: What if they return?

Salim: We’ll cross the bridge when we come to it.

He shed his clothes and climbed onto the bed. I dropped my petticoat, feeling daring and exposed at the same time.

Salim: My beauty, you’re beautiful like this. Shall we take a selfie?

Me: No way, we don’t need that.

My heart raced at the idea—proof of our secret seemed too risky.

Salim: Use your phone.

He took my phone. I felt myself hesitate, my stomach knotting, but I unlocked it and handed it over to him. He held me against him as I kissed his cheek, a fleeting moment of gentleness amidst the turmoil of my feelings.

Salim: Smile, please…

He snapped photos, and I had a combination of thrill and terror. What if people saw these? But I just wanted to preserve this moment, this sensation. He put the phone away, and my half-naked self appeared to send him into a frenzy. I felt powerful, desired, and alive.

Me: Looks like someone’s awake down there.

I knelt, removing his underwear and stroking him. My heart raced as I took him in my mouth, the act both thrilling and intimate. I wanted to make him happy, to reconnect with him.

Salim: You’re a pro at this.

I laughed, attempting to cover up the nervous energy within me.

Salim: Didn’t you tell me last night there’s no foreplay with your husband?

Me: Nope. I’ve never done this with him.

The confession left me feeling bare but unencumbered. With Salim, I was discovering aspects of myself I never knew existed.

Salim: So you’re a fast learner, huh?

I stood up, laughing, and pulled off my underwear. He put me on the bed, his tongue creating waves of pleasure in me. I was moist, lost in the feeling, my guilt overcome by lust.

Me: Did you do this with anyone else before?

Salim: Not that, but I’ve descended and played with breasts.

Me: Oh, nice. With whom?

Curiosity blazed in me, a combination of jealousy and curiosity.

Salim: That’s a story for another time.

Me: Tell me, I wish to know.

Salim: Should I tell you or be concerned with pleasing you?

Me: Tell me first, then proceed.

Salim: It was with my cousin’s wife. He was in Bangalore, playing around with another woman. She discovered and explained it to me one day when I stopped by. I began to go there more frequently, and one day, she relented. It was my first experience, so it was over fast. I felt guilty afterwards.

Me: That’s a pretty brief tale.

I felt a twinge of sympathy—so had he. Perhaps we weren’t so different.

Salim: I’ll expound later. Let’s concentrate on this presently.

He asked me to kneel on the bed. He entered me gradually, and I gasped at the feeling, my body embracing him in spite of my mind’s warnings of caution.

Me: Go slow, okay?

Salim: Were you serious last night when you said you wanted me to finish inside?

Me: No, let’s wait a couple of months. I attempted to sound logical, but a part of me still held on to the wild fantasy of last evening.

Salim: Oh, now it’s like that? You weren’t saying that last night.

Me: I wish to enjoy this pleasure for a while. And I’ll tell you something—I wish the child in my belly to be yours. Isn’t that enough?

My heart beat quickly as I said it, a blend of defiance and yearning. I wished to claim this moment, this bond, even though it frightened me.

Salim: Love you, my love.

His kiss grounded me, and I felt a surge of affection, dangerous but real.

Me: Don’t stop. Keep going… ahh… ahh…

Salim: Quiet, they might come back.

Me: Go slow. I’m close… ahh… ahh…

I climaxed, my body trembling with release. He pulled out, and I stood against the wall. My heart was racing with the thrill of our secret.

Salim: What a gorgeous body. I could swallow you whole.

Me: It’s all mine now.

The words were a pledge, tying me to him in a bond I couldn’t release.

Me: Give me something.

He got it, and we transitioned to a 69 position. His touch was shocking, and I pleasured him with the same ferocity, feeling powerful and wanted.

Salim: Have you done this with anyone else?

Me: What?

Salim: You’re so good at this, but you said you’ve never done it with your husband.

Me: Stop asking questions and continue.

I deflected, not ready to bear more of myself, although his curiosity made me grin.

Salim: Yes, ma’am.

We continued in the 69 position. Then I rode on top in a cowgirl position, moving rhythmically, lost in the rhythm of our bodies.

Salim: I’m close. Should I take over?

Me: Finish in my mouth, then you can continue.

I took him in my mouth, eager to give him all I had. My heart pounded with the closeness of it.

Salim: I’m cumming.

He came, and I swallowed, feeling a surreal pride in our bond. Then I directed him inside me again.

Me: Next round, finish inside.

He kissed and sucked my breasts, and I was lost in euphoria. He slid his finger into my rear entrance, and I again climaxed. He put me on the floor and pounded until he came in me. My body was shaking with intensity.

Salim: And then just stay here and continue all day?

Me: Then who is going to the wedding?

I grinned, but deep down inside, I wished I could remain, to live forever like this.

Salim: Must we leave?

He sucked on my breasts, and I caressed him, my heart filling up with love.

Me: When will this guy ever stop being excited?

Salim: He won’t go down without a fight. Perhaps some milk will lull him asleep.

He teased, squeezing my breasts, and a playfully warm feeling coursed through me.

Me: Let the milk come first, then I will give it. If he gives me his hot milk, I will give him lots in return.

Salim: Didn’t I tell you I’d come inside?

Me: Don’t get angry.

This month, my husband won’t be able to catch up with me on time. From next month, I will keep a record of my dates and report to the office. As I said, he doesn’t initiate foreplay. Maybe most of the time, he climaxes, and I remain unsatisfied. I felt a mix of resentment and hope.

With Salim, I was alive and wanted.

Salim: Alright. Should I place a necklace on your neck, then?

Me: Why not?

Salim: My love, you’re mine from now on.

His words thrilled me, but also terrified me. Could I ever be his?

Me: So, what do we do with this guy standing here?

He said he’d fix it and walked away with his clothes. I sent him the pictures we’d taken, my heart pounding as I wrote a message.

Me: Salim, this is only the start. From now on, I am yours.

He replied with a smiling emoji. I felt a surge of joy and trepidation. By the time he got dressed and stepped out, Nitika and his mom had returned. We ate together, my mind still reeling.

We headed to Komal’s house. After the wedding, Nitika and I left that evening. My heart was heavy with the weight of our secret and the promise of more to come.