Chapter 17: Just Sayin' (part 2 of 2)
Pritha bares her teeth and flies right at me with her arms out. I try to sidestep her charge, but her forearm catches me in the chest, causing me to spin around off balance. From behind me, her arm wraps around my neck. Instinctively, I tuck in my chin to avoid a choke hold. I grab her arm as try to pry it away as we struggle for control. I manage to separate from her, but a hard slap to the face sends me stumbling again.
She takes advantage of my instability and tackles me to the rug. Fortunately, I break the fall with my arms and roll away. I knew Pritha is a brawler, but I didn’t expect her to be this fast and aggressive. She’s also stronger than I thought.
I know I’m vulnerable so I rise as quickly as possible and catch my opponent with a right fist to the ribs that stops her in her tracks. Although I’ve been training in wrestling and grappling, my strongest suit has always been striking and I decide this is good time to bring it out. I regret agreeing to rules of no fists to the face; but slaps to the face are fine. I dance around Pritha, throwing quick open hand slaps to the face. She blocks most of them, but she leaves her body open. I land several good shots too her ribs and abdomen. However, she keeps moving forward at me.
As I throw a flickering jab at Pritha’s head, the restaurant owner drops low and tackles me again at the waist. I hit the floor with a grunt and Pritha lands on top of me. Austin taught me how to protect myself in the guard. Lying on my back, I wrap my legs around her torso and squeeze, controlling her body, preventing her from going on the offensive. I’m able to use my legs to throw off to the side and I quickly lunge at her to take the advantage.
Now I have Pritha on her back as I straddle her body and throw a flurry of slaps and punches. She throws up her arms to protect her face and wildly tries to claw at me. She repeatedly reaches for my bikini top and I knock her hands away each time. Finally, she manages to grab onto my shoulder, digs in her nails and rakes her nails down my arm leaving trails of scratch marks.
“Fuck!” I scream out. I hear Sanjay cheering for his wife but I hear nothing from Calvin. I glance over at him and see his face with his eyes wide open and an expression of shock. Oh no, I thought, he wasn’t prepared for this. I now have a fear that he will not be able to stomach what he is seeing and stop the match by throwing in the towel.
The scratches distract me enough to allow Pritha to knock me off balance, allowing her to get out from under me and swing her legs, catching me in a head scissors hold. Her thighs squeeze around my neck; my hearing is muffled. She contracts her legs, trying to increase the tension. I try to stay calm. I punch at her thighs and attempt to pry them apart. That won’t work. I decide to return the favor and begin scratching and clawing away, throwing in some punches as well. She loosens somewhat. It gives me enough space to shift my body and fire elbows into her legs. I land one elbow after another slamming it into her thighs and knees until she releases the hold enough for me to pop my head out.
As we both rise to our feet, I waste no time sending a right-hand punch to her midsection. Pritha stumbles back but does not fall. Instead, she backs up, lowers her shoulder and charges forward. I don’t have time to sidestep her. I drop lower and brace myself. Our shoulders collide. Her momentum sends me staggering but I manage to stay on my feet. She rushes at me again and wraps her arm around me in a bearhug. Her tight grip has my arms pinned to my sides. Our bodies are pressed together, grunting and gasping. I can feel her hot breath panting on my shoulder.
I am able to wrap my legs around one of hers, which is something Austin taught me. This gives me some leverage, making it difficult for her to lift me higher or throw me down. I kick and squeeze her leg, finally causing her to lose her balance and loosen the hold, allowing me to free one arm. Pritha doubles down and contacts her arm muscles, trying to wear me down. I shove the palm of my free hand into her nose and push into her face until she releases the hold and drops me on my feet.
I immediately take a few steps back and deliver a kick to the ribs, causing her to wince. I fire a second kick which misses. Pritha has enough savvy to catch my leg. I’m forced to hop on one foot as Pritha tries to send me to the floor. She resorts to digging her nails into my thigh and rakes. I yelp in pain. “Bitch!” I scream.
She finally gets me off balance on one leg and takes the opportunity to catch me in a side headlock. I reach up to try to get a handful of hair, but Pritha swings me around by the neck and releases the hold, sending me reeling across the room. I have no time to recover. Pritha charges in; her shoulder drives into my midsection like a battering ram, knocking the wind out of me. I double over, instinctively holding my arms over my stomach. I am defenseless as she wraps her arms around my thighs and lifts me high in the air. The room seems to spin as Pritha turns, looking for the perfect landing spot. I feel myself being thrown down, landing hard on my back with a thud.
I’m left vulnerable on the floor gasping and wheezing. My opponent stands over me like a predator; a vicious smile on her face. She takes hold of my ankles and lifts them high into a vertical position. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t resist. My eyes see Sanjay excitedly jumping up on his feet. “You got her now,” he shouts to Pritha. “Put her away. She’s done.” Calvin shifts uncomfortably in his chair, looking very concerned.
Pritha pushes my legs toward my head and folds me like a jackknife. Her nails dig into the flesh of my ankles. I know I’m in big trouble. My fingers claw at the rug in desperation. Pritha, on her feet, wraps both of my legs at the ankles with one arm, holding them firm. I feel her nails on my lower spine. Her fingers work the elastic band of my bikini bottom. Now I know what she is up to. The band shifts and begins to slide. Pritha works the fabric until I feel it slipping down my thighs. I scream and buck my hips and kick my legs. Pritha maintains a tight grip and continues her mission. I can see her biceps bulge as she pulls, spurred on by her husband.
Pritha brings my bikini bottom to my knees: I know my bare ass is exposed. I’m overwhelmed with anger and embarrassment. The garment slips over my ankles and feet, leaving me naked from the waist down. I can feel the cool thin air on my exposed skin. Pritha triumphantly holds up the cheetah print bottom, then tosses it to Sanjay, who seems thrilled to possess it. This is so degrading and humiliating. Calvin is now on his feet looking disturbed, holding the towel in his hand. I immediately panic, fearing he will stop the fight.
“No Calvin,” I scream; my voice hoarse. “Don’t throw it.”
Pritha pushes my feet forward and plants them to the carpet over my head, giving the men the clearest view possible. Sanjay switched his position to give himself the best vantage point. She brings her head lower, closer to mine. “You’re mine,” she whispers, her voice laced with triumph and dominance. “You will submit to me.”
I’m trapped with my crotch placed on display. Pritha uses her weight effectively to keep me pinned down. I can’t escape. It occurs to me that the fight is over. As in my loss to Robin, I’m not in enough pain to submit, but I’m thoroughly trapped. This is different. With Robin, I lost the battle if wills. This is submission by humiliation. I can’t stay like this. I see Calvin looking at the towel again. I again beg him not to do it. I’ll submit on my own.
Sanjay’s voice is low and sinister. “Pritha, show her who’s in charge. Make her feel it.”
What the fuck does that mean? Make her feel what? I panic and try to kick but to no avail. Pritha nods at her husband and they both share a malevolent smile. Pritha lifts up her body while holding on to my legs. She positions herself over my chest and drops down, slamming her ass into my sternum. Pain radiates throughout my ribcage as I struggle to breathe. She tucks each leg under her armpits at the level of my knees and rocks back. I feel my thighs spread apart as Sanjay squeals in delight, “Oh yeah, baby, make her beg.”
Pritha tries using her elbows to hold my legs in place as she reaches forward. Her fingers begin tracing a path along my inner thigh. They slide along my upper leg, then dance along the most sensitive skin of my thoroughly exposed and vulnerable parts.
“That’s it,” Sanjay continues, holding my cheetah bikini bottom in his hand. “Go inside her. Make her submit to you completely.”
Fuck! I did not agree to this. I didn’t expect Pritha to be this dirty and vicious. We all know that getting stripped is a possibility in a fight, especially a bikini fight. I realize we didn’t specifically prohibit scratching. But we didn’t discuss sex attacks either. Did she just assume it was okay?
“Almost there, baby,” Sanjay croons. “She’ll be begging and screaming for you.
I pound away at Pritha’s back, but there’s not much power when you punch upward while lying flat. I resort to scratching her back. My nails are short, a nursing requirement, but I do the best I can.
Pritha’s fingers are on my folds. “There it is, honey. Now open up that pussy and she’s yours. She’ll be –“ WHACK!
I see Sanjay, go reeling across the room and falling to the floor. Oh my God, Calvin decked him.
Pritha saw it. Perhaps she was distracted, but for whatever reason, she raised her head enough for me to grab a fistful of hair. I yank her head back and no longer feel the touch of intruding fingers on my peach.
“Kiva, let’s end it now,” Calvin demands.
“No, I can get out of this. Please Calvin, don’t stop it,” I beg.
I get one leg free and squirm and turn while pulling Pritha by the hair. She rolls off of me and we grapple on the floor. I wrap my arms around her neck in a chokehold, trying to knock her out like I did with Cynthia. She struggles and gasps and claws at my arms. I’m not in a proper position, so I abandon the hold. I’m not breathing well myself and my chest feels like it will explode. I use my new wrestling skills to position myself on top of Pritha. I lift up and plunge my knee deep into her belly. She lets out a loud “Oooomph”. I know I hurt her. I’m not going to let up now.
Pritha curls up in a fetal position as I stand up. I reach down and grab her hair with one hand and her bikini top by the front clasp with the other hand and pull. “Get up!’ I growl. She shakily rises to her feet and I swing her around by the hair and let the bikini top snap. Her breasts spill out as she reels across the room, then falls again. This is no longer a so-called friendly contest arranged by couples. It’s now a down and dirty catfight. One woman is almost topless and the other is bottomless.
I yank the woman who tried to violate me by the hair, bringing her back to her feet. Immediately, I claw my fingers and dig deep into her tit flesh, using my nails as much as possible. Pritha screams. Sanjay is back watching us from his original position. Calvin still has his “Am I really experiencing this?” expression, as if he wonders if he walked into another dimension.
Pritha drops to her knees as I squeeze her breasts. Her own fingers frantically claw my arms, but I know she’s in worse pain. I pull her up again by the boobs and swing her around. Her face is pure anguish. I offer her a chance to submit but she refuses.
I finally let go and see the puncture marks I left on her tits. She’s weak, in pain, and very vulnerable. I rear back and fire the hardest slap to the face I could summon, the impact making a loud cracking sound. Pritha’s head nearly turns around as she stumbles and falls again. Now it’s a game of cat and mouse. I let her stumble to her feet again and smack her just as hard on the other side of the face, sending her to the floor again. I look at Sanjay to see if he’s ready to throw in the towel. It appears he has no intention of doing so.
I let her rise one more time. I fake another slap. She raises her hands to her face in protection. I deliver a hard kick to her midsection, where I earlier buried my knee. Pritha crumbles to the floor.
“I think this is enough,” Calvin calls out.
I agree, but I need to hear it from at least one part of this couple. Pritha lies on her side. I position her face down and plant my foot on the middle of her upper back. I seize both arms by the wrists and pull back stretching the elbows to their limits compressing both shoulder blades. Her cries go louder as I crank back on the surfboard hold.
“Submit,” I demand.
She manages a “No,” as she shakes her head.”
After maintaining the surfboard hold for several minutes, I lighten the pressure of my foot on her back and pull back on her arms, elevating her head and chest in the air. I reapply my weight on her back and relax the pull on her arms, letting her chest and face crash into the carpet.
She won’t submit. I glare angrily at Sanjay for letting his wife suffer this much. I repeat the same maneuver of lifting her up and crushing her bare tits and face into the floor. I pull back again, holding her arms close together to cause maximal tension on her shoulders. I’m worried this hold could cause a dislocated shoulder, but I’m not about to let her go. I repeat the move one more time of pulling the surfboard up then crash it down. I know Pritha doesn’t have a free hand to tap out, so I ask her again for her verbal submission.
“I give,” she sobs. I look at Sanjay again and keep the hold for several more seconds.
“She gave up, Kiva. Let her go,” He implores.
“The towel, Sanjay,” I growled. “I want the towel. Throw in the towel! Now! And I want my bikini bottom back!”
“She gave up, Kiva. Let her go!” he yells back.
“I want a submission from both of you,” I snap back.
I pull up on Pritha’s arms one more time as she lets out a final scream. Sanjay tosses the towel upward, sending it tumbling through the air, then landing in a heap in front of Pritha’s face.
“And my bikini bottom?”
He throws my cheetah print swimsuit bottom at me where it lands on Pritha’s back at my feet.I release my victim’s arms while keeping my foot on her back, letting her face crash into the carpet. I remain standing one-footed on her limp body. I rectify my bottomless state by quickly slipping into my previously departed bottom. I place my hands on my hips in a proud victory pose, looking to the distance like a military general standing on a defeated enemy while gazing over the new land he has conquered.
I’m not quite finished. I drop down and straddle Pritha’s prone body. I grab the remnants of her bun and yank her head up so she is facing Sanjay. I provide the defeated wife and husband the tender moment of sharing the anguish together before letting her go free and rising off of her.
I turn to see Calvin standing behind me. It is clear he is not sure how to feel. I hug him tightly and he tentatively puts his arm around me. “Come on, Calvin,” I whisper. “We’re married. We can do better than this.” I jumped up to reach the top of his 6’5” frame, grabbed his head, pulling it down just above mine. With his face now in range, I planted my lips on his and gave him a long, deep passionate kiss. He gives me a bottle of water, wipes me with a towel and looks over my scratches and newly forming bruises.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Let me get the Bacitracin.”
“I feel great,” I tell him. “So, what did you think?”
“That was…different. I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m sorry you had to see me this way,” I say softly. I know this was awkward and shocking for him. I do appreciate him doing this for me. On the other side of the room, I see Sanjay is holding Pritha as she cries on his shoulder. He covered up her breasts and massages the shoulder blades I ravaged.
“Kiva, Calvin,” Sanjay calls out. “Hey guys, no hard feelings, okay. We’re all adults. We all consented to this. You’re are guests. Let’s put the fight behind us. We’ll give the ladies a chance to clean up, then let’s meet back here in thirty minutes for dessert and some drinks. Sound good?”
“Is he serious?” Sanjay asks me.
“Sounds great,” I answer Sanjay. “Come on, Calvin,” I whisper under my beath as I lead my silent pretend partner by the hand back upstairs to the guest room. The thrill of the victory, of defeating a woman in her own house, in front of her husband is growing on me by the second.
“You know, Kiva,” Calvin says, “perhaps we should leave now. I’m not sure how the rest of this night is going to go…just sayin’.”
‘No Calvin,” I insisted. “We’re staying. I’m done fighting tonight. I won. You don’t understand. You see, I own this place now. I defeated the queen of the house. This place is mine. I’m the new empress. It’s only by my grace that Pritha and Sanjay are even permitted to stay here.”
Of course, this is a fantasy, but it’s a fantasy I earned. I’m entitled to it. It’s the best part of this entire venture. I have all night to enjoy it.
“Okay, fine,” Calvin responds. He probably thinks I’m nuts.
I take a brief shower, wash my hair, dress in fresh underwear, gym shorts and a T-shirt. Downstairs, Pritha, wearing a white terry cloth robe is waiting with Sanjay. “Ah, there you are,” he says, “come this way, please.”
Our host leads us back to the dining room, where we are treated with an array of Indian pastries: gulab jamun, jalebi, and sheera served with coffee. Our conversation starts out as awkward. Sanjay seems to be in good spirts. He and I carry the conversation as I feel very alive and animated after my win. My voice is lively; my laughter is loud. Pritha seems withdrawn, trying to process her crushing defeat. Calvin joins in the conversation but I can tell he’s still wondering what the fuck he just witnessed tonight. As our lighthearted banter continues, the fantasy plays out in my mind again, this time even stronger. I’m starting to get turned on by it.
Pritha acts in complete deference to me. I take advantage of it and order her to bring me a mango kulfi, a creamy North Indian desert like a block of ice cream on a stick but more condensed and made with mango pulp. I hold the stick with my hand and couldn’t help but notice the phallic shape of the solid mango pulp at the top. I turn toward Calvin and suggestively lick the head of the stick in a circular motion with my tongue. He kicks me under the table and whispers. “You’re bad, Baby Girl.”
I feel like I’m on a high now. It’s intoxicating and it’s arousing.
Sanjay suggests we move to the living room for drinks. “I think I have dishes to wash,” Pritha mutters. Oh yes, I nearly forgot about the bet. Pritha heads for kitchen alone as Sanjay hands me a glass of Sula Chenin Blanc wine and leads me to a large comfortable recliner chair fit for a queen.
The three of us resume our conversation which is now more relaxed and free flowing. We talk, laugh, and joke like nothing happened. Calvin seems to have loosened up and is enjoying himself. From the kitchen, I hear the clunking and clinking of dishes and utensils being washed. After several minutes, those sounds cease and replaced by mournful sobbing.
“Excuse me,” Sanjay says as he rises and walks to the kitchen. Calvin and I sit in silence. A few minutes later, Sanjay returns. “She’s okay,” he tells us.
“Would you prefer that we leave?” Calvin asks.
“No, please stay,” Sanjay implores us as I breathe a sigh of relief. “My wife doesn’t lose very many fights, but when she dies, this is how she gets. It’s emotional. She’ll get through it.”
Sanjay brings me another wine, then another. Before long, Pritha emerges from the kitchen in her terry cloth robe and bare feet. She positions herself on the sofa snuggling against her husband. Calvin tries to include her in the conversation. She manages a few short answers and weak smiles. I remain immersed in my internal fantasy of the conquering victress who has taken over a castle. I’ve not been in this situation before and I find it …hot! I know it’s getting late. In my fantasy, I will retire to the queen’s chamber with my lover where the joy of victory will shift to a night of unbridled passion and lust.
After my fourth glass of wine, the conversation begins to die down. Finally, Calvin lets out a big yawn. “Well. sweetie,” he says turning toward me. “I think we need to call it a night. Both of you ladies must be exhausted.” He stands and takes me by the arm and lifts me from the couch. It’s disappointing. I don’t want this moment to end but I know he’s right. Sanjay looks tired and for Pritha, this night can’t end soon enough.
“Okay, honey,” I answer as we say goodnight to our hosts and ascend up the stairs, hand in hand. We enter the bedroom and close the door, leaving the two of us…alone.
Calvin flops on the bed and I enter the bathroom. I look in the mirror and smile. Except for the scratches and bruises, I like what I see. The thrill of defeating Pritha combined with the joyful effects of alcohol puts me in a place I don’t want to leave. I pulled it off. Calvin and I did it. We passed ourselves off as a married inter-racial couple. Now it’s time for bed and a breakfast and our trip home tomorrow. I put on my nightgown. Time for bed...with Calvin! Time to go to sleep. I know I won’t be able to sleep. I’m too excited, I’m too wound up. I’m too…sexually aroused!
My skin tingles with heat, my nipples scream to stretch out further, moisture is beginning to build between my legs. If I had an actual husband here, this is the time when we would engage in intense post-victory sex. We would have just gone through a powerful experience together and now would be the time to release all the built-up sexual tension. Except, the tension is all one sided - my side. I can’t go on like this. I’m just going to have to distract myself out of it.
I brush my teeth, put on my nightgown and step back into the bedroom. The sight of Calvin stops me in my tracks. He is stripped down to his bikini briefs as he changes into his pajamas. What a body! It’s perfect! His muscles are well developed everywhere. His brown eyes are gorgeous; his ebony skin is beautiful. What a majestic human being. He’s like a Greek god!
Without thinking, I unbutton my nightgown and let it drop to the floor, exposing myself completely to Calvin, removing one of my last filters.
“Oh my, look at you,” I gasp.
“Kiva, what are you doing?” he asks as his eyes widen. I noticed he referred to me by name, not Baby Girl. Calvin only calls me Kiva when he has something serious to say. He looks at me in shock and quickly scrambles to cover up. He fumbles with his pajama bottoms, and folds his arms over his chest as if he just encountered something forbidden.
“It’s OK Calvin, you don’t need to cover up. You are amazing. Please look at me. We are friends.”
“Whoa, Baby Girl, we need to talk. It looks like you’re burning with a six-alarm wildfire.”
Of course, he’s right. I didn’t expect this. I imagined I’d feel sexy after a win, but this? This is overwhelming. All I want right now is for Calvin to take me. I want to devour him. I want to love him.
“Is it wrong?” I ask him.
My hands forage over my breasts; I softly gasp, letting my fingers gently caress my nipples. My right hand explores the contours of my abdomen before my fingers find the doorway to my womanhood. I moan softly.
“Kiva, what are you doing,” Calvin asks. He sounds like my father catching me with my fingers in a cookie jar. Except, now I’m grown up and my fingers are in something else.
“I’m…uh…touching myself,” I confess, sounding a little sheepish.
“Perhaps I should go sleep somewhere else.”
“No Calvin, please don’t leave,” I plead with him. “I just want you to stay with me tonight.” Oh God, I made him uncomfortable.
“Well then,” he replies. “Maybe there’s a sex shop somewhere around here. I’ll see if I can find you a dildo.”
His words hit me hard like a cold wet slap in the face. How callous. This hurts. It’s especially deep coming from Calvin.
“No Calvin, that won’t be necessary. I don’t need a dildo,” I sigh. Why did he have to say that? “I wouldn’t mind having the real thing,” I mutter. I immediately regret saying that.
“So, what are you saying, Kiva? Do you want to do it with me? Do you want me to be your lover tonight?” I can’t tell if he’s serious by his tone.
“Would you? I mean…could you?”
He takes a deep breath and folds his arms over his chest. “You know I’m married,” he says curtly.
“Yeah, but you’re married to a man,” I argue. “Is it cheating if you do it with a woman?” I know it sounded dumb, but that arrangement works for Robin and her husband.
“How would you feel if you were married to a man who was having sex with other men behind your back?” he asks. “Would you please cover up? Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to see your hoo-ha…just sayin’.”
Ouch! Another slap in the face. This one hurts even worse. He’s right though. I feel like the biggest fool ever. And I fear like I just lost one of my closest friends. “I’m sorry, Calvin,” I tell him as I fight unsuccessfully to hold back tears. “I never should have brought you here and drag you into this. I know you were being a friend, but you didn’t need to be involved in this. I promise I’ll never ask you to do anything like this again…and I’ll never ask you to lie for me again”
“Look, Baby Girl,” he says in his low voice as his arms embrace me. “I’m sorry I sounded harsh. You know how much I care about you. You will always be as a sister to me. I’m just trying to say that even brothers and sisters need to have boundaries. Just sayin’.”
“I understand,” I whisper. With the heat of passion dead and gone and the effects of alcohol waning, the events of the night become clearer. I won a tough fight in a stranger’s home. Then I begged a gay friend for sex and got rejected. How could I have been such an idiot?
“What do you say we turn the lights out and go to sleep?” he asks.
“That’s fine,” I answer. I place my nightgown back on and slip under the covers of the double bed, next to one of the most amazing male bodies most women can only dream about. “Goodnight Calvin,” I whisper as he turns out the light on the night table.
“Goodnight, Baby Girl,” he returns. I know I won’t be falling asleep for a while. I stare at the ceiling and start contemplating my life.
Suddenly, the quietness is interrupted by loud wailing and sobbing coming from down the hall.
“It’s Pritha,” I tell Calvin.
“Do you think she’s alright?” he asks. Should we check on her?”
“No,” I reply. “She’ll be fine. Like Sanjay said, it’s all emotional. She got beat and humiliated in front of her husband. She’s been struggling to hold it in since the fight ended. Now that they’re alone, she’s letting it out.”
For several minutes, we lie in bed listening to Pritha’s bawling in the night and Sanjay’s soft voice trying to calm her down. I don’t take satisfaction in it. I like to think I have a great amount of empathy as a nurse and as a human in general. I can’t stand seeing suffering and sorrow. But I don’t feel guilty about it either. Every fighter knows the risks and fallout that comes with losing. I’ve been there.
Gradually, the tearful howling diminishes to sniffles and whimpers. Finally, silence.
Calvin is asleep next to me. His deep even breaths provide a comforting white noise to the room. I still can’t sleep. The mattress creaks beneath me as I shift my weight. My mind is racing again. I think of work, Tom, Clarissa, and…Jeanne. I think it can be damaging for a divorced parent to expose a child to dating prospects too soon. It can be confusing and even more traumatic if the child becomes attached to the boyfriends or girlfriends who are only temporarily in the picture. I will discuss this with Tom when I return home. Finally, my mind slows down and my eyelids become heavy as sleep approaches.
Before I lapse into a slumber, I’m jolted awake by more noises. I hear moaning. It’s a woman moaning. But these are not the moans of anguish I heard a few minutes ago. These moans are soft, and rhythmic...and passionate. Now, the gruff, groans of a man’s voice join in. No doubt about it. Pritha and Sanjay are making love.
It doesn’t seem fair, I tell myself. I won the fight, but Pritha is the only one of us enjoying her man. The sounds of their tryst progress to the slapping of flesh on flesh. Their moans become louder and filled with excitement.
Their sounds of passion make my heart ache. Why couldn’t I have someone right now? I try not to internalize their experience like it is my own. But it is so difficult. My heart begins to race and blood rushes to my cheeks. The moisture between my legs has returned. I turn toward Calvin and stroke his powerful arm, my fingers gently grazing the coarse hairs on his warm skin. No, I have to stop.
I turn away from my sleeping bed partner as Pritha and Sanjay continue in their connubial bliss. I can picture the entire scene playing out. Calvin and I had retired to our room, leaving Pritha and Sanjay alone downstairs. Pritha was despondent over her loss, until Sanjay suggested they go to bed. In the comforting confines of their bedroom, Pritha unleashed what she had been holding back since the fight ended. She began bawling and weeping, opening a floodgate of tears. Sanjay held her. First, he told her he was proud of her, that she’s a great fighter and the fight could have gone either way. Then he told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Eventually, the crying waned. He kissed her on the top of her head, he kissed her tear drenched eyes, then her mouth. At this point, Pritha responded. She wrapped herself in his embrace and kissed him back. For the moment, she forgot about her demoralizing defeat. She felt desired. He caressed her and stroked her. Her body shuddered; she felt the desire inside her. Her nipples tingled and hardened as his tongue circled them. The woman I defeated took her husband’s stiff cock in her hands as he led her to the bed. Yes, I am certain this is how it happened.
I wonder what it would be like to be desired. My hands slip down to my own body. I lift up my nightgown and trace the surface of my stomach, and then lower. At first, I’m tentative. I imagine Pritha’s legs wrapped around Sanjay’s waist, her back arching off the bed, her mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure. My breathing is faster. As my fingertips find their way to my clit, I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning. I must be careful not to wake Calvin. What will he think?
My other hand finds my breast, teasing and squeezing the nipple into a hard peak. Through the walls, Pritha’s moans grow louder, more desperate. My own movements become more urgent in response. I slide a finger inside myself and feel the wetness that has gathered there. I begin to pump in time with the rhythmic thuds I hear in the other bedroom. The sound of slapping skin grows faster; Sanjay’s grunts are now the bellowing of a man who is barreling down the path toward climax. I move my own hand faster, my hips rising to meet their touch. I feel the familiar waves of pleasure through my body; the tension is becoming tighter. I know my climax is building. Pritha is close too. Her cries have become more frequent and frantic. Sanjay’s voice has turned to low guttural growls indicating a man who is will soon explode.
Calvin stirs in his sleep. He reaches out his arm toward me as if he is searching for a lover. I shift to avoid his touch. He can’t wake up to this. I don’t want him to know, although he’ll probably find evidence of it in the morning. My hand is buried between my legs as I know my orgasm is just seconds away. I keep pumping; I bite the pillow to a keep from making a sound. My eyes squeeze shut; just a few more seconds. It’s building, it’s here. I…am…about…to…
“Baby Girl?”
Oh God, it can’t be. Calvin’s awake. Did I wake him? Does he know? Suddenly, I feel numb.
“Baby Girl, I know what you’re doing,” he says in his soothing comforting voice.
I immediately feel embarrassed, ashamed and mortified. How did it get to this? The influence of the adrenaline, endorphins and alcohol are gone. Pritha and Sanjay are still going full throttle, but my self-indulgent lustful passion just evaporated like mist in the desert sun. I’m clear-headed now. I’ll never be able to look at Calvin again.
“I know what you’re doing,” he repeats. “And it’s okay.”
I can’t move. I can’t speak. I wouldn’t know what words to say anyway.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Calvin continues as he rubs my shoulder. “You’re stressed. You’re tired. You’re lonely. It’s only natural and normal. I’ve been there myself many times. We all have. What you’ve shown me tonight is that you’re human. In fact, you’re the most human person I know.”
I give him a nod in acknowledgment of his words. I appreciate his grace in the situation, but I still can’t find my voice.
“I guess I didn’t fully realize what you were going through. I’m sorry I sounded insensitive. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. Please know that I’m with you and I’ll help you in any way. I’ll let you have this room to yourself if you prefer. You asked me for physical intimacy and if that is what you want for tonight, I will take you there. To answer your earlier question, yes, I can do it with women, but it’s been a long time. I’ll explain it to Marcus; he’ll understand.”
“Thanks, Calvin,” I tell him as my eyes become watery. “I appreciate that. But you were right the first time. Sex changes relationships and I don’t want anything to change with us. I crossed a line and you brought me back. And please don’t leave this room tonight.”
He kisses me on the top of the head and pulls me toward his body. I place my head on his massive chest and hold on to him. We quietly lie there. No lust or passion. No eroticism. Just two people who both happen to be nurses and care about each other: a straight white woman and an African-American gay man being true to themselves and each other.
From another bedroom, Pritha and Sanjay scream out their orgasms. I had forgotten about them. After Calvin caught me masturbating, I had tuned them out. An involuntary chuckle escapes my throat, then turns to all out laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Calvin asks.
I struggle to regain my composure. “Come on, Calvin. Think about it. Everything about tonight is funny. You and me pretending we’re a couple. We go to a house of people we never met; we have Indian food, you watch two women in bikinis beat the hell out of each other, you see me without my bikini bottom, then you see me naked and I try to turn you straight for one night, you catch me…you know, then we listen to our hosts shagging each other. It’s hilarious. A fiction writer would never have come up with this.”
Calvin breaks out into his infectious hearty laughter. “You’re right Baby Girl. I don’t think I’m going to forget this night anytime soon. Just sayin’. Should we try to get some sleep now?”
“Wait a minute,” I reply. “I just got a devilish idea. I know I promised I would never ask you to lie for me again, but could you do something for me one last time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” I explain “I don’t want Pritha and Sanjay thinking they got the better of us in one area. Remember how we talked about us both doing improvisational acting in college? I say we return the favor to our hosts and show them what we’ve got.”
“How?”
“I’ll start us off. Ready? One…two…three…Ooooh…oooh…oooh baby, uuuh, uuuh, ooh.”
“You’re bad, Baby Girl, Calvin laughs”
“Oh Calvin, aaaah, aaaah, Oh YES! That’s it, baby...Oh I feel you.”
“Okay Calvin, you’re turn,” I whisper.
“Ooooh yes, baby, oooh yeah, you know what I like honey,” he starts.
“Louder, Calvin,” I instruct in a low voice.
“Oh Baby, you feel so good, aaah….aaah,,,aaah!”
We raise our voices louder as we vocalize our duet of phony sex for our audience of two. We continue this charade for a good fifteen minutes before I scream out the loudest fake orgasm in my life. Calvin supplies the base to my mezzo-soprano voice as our acting reaches a climax.
“You really are bad, Baby Girl,” he grins as we fall back in bed. We share one more good laugh before turning out the lights. We enjoy a few more minutes of light conversation, before sleep overtakes us.”
“Kiva?” Calvin’s voice snaps me back from the borderline of dreamland.
“Yes?” I answer, wondering why he referred to me by my adult name.
“Have you considered getting back together with Tom?”
Oh, Good Lord. Why is he asking me this? And in the middle of the night? “No, why are you asking?”
“Because I don’t think it’s really over with the two of you.”
Ugh! Is this what he woke me up for? “You can’t be serious,” I groaned.
“Just sayin’.”