To Experience True Sex, I Had to Orgasm With a Stranger on My Husband's Bed

---

The burgundy and gold carpet shimmered on the shiny mahogany blades of the ceiling fan, from the center of its mirrored body darted two eyes back at me, eyes full of anger and anguish. They beckoned me to speak the truth, to tell him that I did not feel an inch of excitement at his touch.

In my mind flooded images of that pervert who molested me when I was only four. Reflections of my nemesis lurked like shadows on those grey walls, hauntingly spinning around the ceiling like that fan. I gasped in fear and Ishaan penetrated me harder attempting to give me more pleasure.

I lay there staring at my own reflection. I try to say the words but my mouth is dry. Ishaan coats my lips with his saliva, my black long hair glimmer through the darkness, wet with his pent-up sweat. He is ecstatic while I lie there like a corpse faking a smile.

---

Face to face with ghosts from the past

Long back after he had dozed off along with his rhythmic snores, the sound of the night traffic filled the room as if traumatizing me to do something. I could no longer hide in the warmth of that soft, velvety blanket. I too wanted to feel what true bodily pleasure felt. I did not like the life that I now lived, that of fear, and pretense, duties, and societal pressures.

"But this is Pakistan", I heard my mother say, "You are an Islamic woman born in the third world. Your life is the happiness of your man and your children," her firm, matter-of-fact tone reverberated.

And so I followed her advice and made my husband's happiness my own. As the morning Azaan - the Muslim call to prayer went off at 6 am, my hands automatically rushed toward the other side of the bed. I could not feel Ishaan's handsome stubble. He had walked away.

The frail rays of the sun tried to peak their way through the windows. It was neither night nor day, we were somehow stuck somewhere in between, in a void we could not escape.

Orange shadows of the cars passing by trailed their way onto the ceiling, hauntingly transforming themselves into monsters that dragged me out of this trance.

Suddenly I heard pounding from the room next door, and one groan, followed by a moan, and another. As their excitement grew, the glass on these huge windows vibrated, as if it would crack. That did not happen, but this was enough to scratchily wear my mind off all things it held moral and just.

As their bodies trembled and their heart worked harder to make up for breath lost during their quest for pleasure, I heard Saskia's footsteps creep through the kitchen floor. My mistress, Ishaan's second wife busied herself with morning chores as Ishaan left for work after his second successful bout of lust.

---

We were picture perfect, but two worlds apart

We met in college and I spent years admiring his perfect body and deliciously good looks. Like me, there were many other more beautiful women who craved for and hit it off with him. I knew I had nothing to make him mine, but against all odds, and with some strong family connections, we ended up together.

The love for a family and kids is what drew him toward me. He knew I would uphold the responsibilities of a household and live together in a joint family. He knew I would dutifully care for his old parents and was crazy enough to accept him even after spotting lipstick of another on his nape or hair belonging to strange women on his shirt.

I did all of that, and I also accepted his other true love into our house. She accepted us too. She accepted the kids. We lived like one big happy family until I heard the creaking of the bed against their working thighs. This was the only thing I could not accept, and I decided to change this.

---

To rescue myself, I had to become more like him

Ishaan knew I loved to dance, and he did not mind the thought of me swooning away in a stranger's arms. One day, I decided to go a step further. I shut down my mind and let my desires take control of my meandering body. I let his fingers feel the warmth underneath my layered clothing. I let my eyes exhibit the venomous desire I had enshrouded under the veil of religion and morality.

I let this man take control of my body and reach down to depths impermeable for a Muslim woman like me. I not only gave myself physically and emotionally to a Christian man, but I also took a step further and moved the action from the dance floor to the loo, and then to every private corner I could find.

I experienced my first real orgasm with this person and was not even ashamed of writhing for pleasure under his miraculous touch in the prayer room. Had I really become that evil, or did Allah want to tell me something? I was so happy with my newfound self, I felt no guilt.

This made me wonder why my body would crave this man's touch while shy away from that of my handsome and very experienced husband. One day, I dared to move our secret affair to Ishaan's and my private bedroom, as he was away with Saskia.

---

Replacing fear with pleasure

As I entered our bedroom with Ron, the burgundy and gold carpet welcomed us. My hands trembled with joy to strip my love down to his pants. My body was flushed with desire and for the first time, those satin maroon sheets seemed cold and inviting.

In anticipation of what lay in front of me, my naked body grabbed Ron's figure hungrily. My already moist, creamy vulva sucked onto his hard cock. I saw my reflection in the mirrored fan and smiled as he moved upward and downward in concentric circles to satisfy my aching thirst.

For the first time, visuals of the old pervert pressing his plump dick through my tiny hole did not flood my mind. The flashes of my nemesis failed to drown out that overwhelming desire. Moans and groans of pleasure drowned the distracting traffic noise as he crawled inside me making my mind incapable of doing anything else than enjoy this long-awaited orgasm.

Yes, I orgasmed on this bed for the first time while cheating on my husband, but all I could feel was an insurmountable joy. For a long time to come, I kept those cum-stained sheets as is, and sniffed on the aroma of our body odor.

All I needed to do now was to repeat this yearning with another man, who I actually longed for, and I did just this, the same night when Ishaan got back from his trip. Yes, I too was capable of a second bout of lust.

---

From just a room to an abode of love

That night Ishaan returned late with Saskia to a room filled with the aroma of lust and a wife prepared to give him the best. He would have wondered what the occasion was, but before my mind reverted to the ghosts of my past, I wanted to change things while they still were in my control.

Not giving him a chance to rest or overthink what had hit me, I pounced on his body beckoning to strip open my tiny slip. As if hearing my mind, he submitted to my desire, licking my every inch. Our bodies entwined and every ounce of energy was concentrated on discovering a new type of sex.

For the first time, I reciprocated his every penetration, making sure the screams of our ecstasy filled the air. Tears rolled down my eyes as I felt close to my husband like I had never done before. How wonderful it felt giving myself wholly to a man with no traumatic memories to intervene.

His lips covered every inch of me with kisses, his eyes looked deep into mine as if trying to decipher the reason for the change. I smiled, letting him wander through my length, without the slightest ounce of guilt. Yes, I had made love to another man on my husband's bed in order to bring a corpse back to life. As I enjoyed the first real, longest orgasm with my partner, I congratulated myself on getting rid of the age-old tension child abuse had created in me.

An evil can only be killed by another kind of evil, because the pure spirit of peace can not do killing.

---

Bidding goodbye to bondage

With that insidious feeling of child abuse went away other evils that were tying me down. I liked experimenting with my heart and mind. I liked defying principles that I had been holding onto just for the sake of the world.

I wanted to fill this hollow heart with happiness, no matter how and where it came from. I wanted to experience the best sex in life with anyone who was willing to work on me for it. I wanted to selfishly snatch away my share of joy from the world and fill my breathless self with a whiff of fresh air.

When I started loving myself, I was happier, and a happier me, irrespective of the source of joy, blessed my family with more care and love. I bid goodbye to the bondage of religion, I bid goodbye to the clutches of child abuse, I bid goodbye to the chains of patriarchy.

It was like being reborn, in another land, at another time, and forgetting my old, disciplined self, but I do not miss that memory, and look forward to many more wonderful moments with the new me.

---