My Husband's Little Affair

My husband was madly in love with my sister. Many times, I saw their lascivious bodies rubbing on each other's with the hunger of consuming one another completely. Saw their mouth praying on each other's lust, from the hide-hole of our huge old Victorian mansion positioned on the ranges of Dhauladhar. Yes, it wrenched my heart out, made my eyes shed helpless drops of boiling mercury. The pain destroyed all the serenity of my days and the murk of the nights, made body burn seeking that passionate love on my cold lonely bed creasing the linen beneath the ripples of my body.

But no matter what you can never give up on love,can you ? I also couldn't. I needed to win my husband's love from my sister, I needed to keep patience, extreme patience, I needed to gain control over my emotions and hide them away under the deep sleeve of my heart and I did exactly that. Bit by bit I started breaking the spell of that sorceress from the skin of my husband. I started with creating small misunderstandings between them. I carefully arranged an accidental meeting of my sister with her ex-boyfriend.

Ours was an old estate built by some English doctor in the British period and later was bought by our ancestors. There are quite a few like us in Shimla and most of them converted their houses into hotels. But we Jasrotias never agreed to turn our home into a public property. We still don't need to sell our privacy to maintain our standards because of our tea estates in Palampur. That day I sent her to our Palampur tea estate with the excuse of some work where I already sent her ex-boy friend to execute some important duties who was actually happened to be our old accounted son. Years back my father sent him to his friend's tea estate in ooty to work when he came to know about their affair but he came back when his father died and as my sister was no longer staying in Shimla my father allowed him to stay here again. Anyway so this sudden unexpected meeting after years gave me some moments to capture in my camera from somewhere behind the woods and I mailed those pictures to my husband from an unknown account as the evidence of her polygamous nature. To my delight, it worked successfully and initiated a serious conflict between them.

My sister was never a good cook, all she ever interested was to lecture about women liberation and how useless was our mothers and grandmothers were to waste their lives inside the four walls of the kitchen. How come the chemistry of converting simple food into life long memories just by mixing feminal love can be useless! I never understood. So next, I started cooking all the favorite dishes of my husband. Sometimes it's just the old school ways which actually takes you to the destination. My grandma used to say "the way to a man's heart always goes through his stomach" and it's an eternal truth. It took me hours into the kitchen to prepare all those exotic dishes with uttermost care but the smile of satisfaction on my man's lips touching those foods used to make it all worth. Everything in this world comes with a price tag and love is no exception, the price for my love was patience and devotion which I performed with complete honesty, after all, I couldn't just let my sister possess my love forever, can I?

Me taking care of him doesn't remain unnoticed for long. I observed him started admiring the way I used to manage things single-handedly to run this huge Jasrotia house. About men this is a very predictable fact no matter how much modern and progressive they become, subconsciously they always admire the woman who is capable of managing their house well and make them feel pampered. I engaged my sister more into the responsibilities of our estate so I could get the advantage of her absence and could make full use of it.My sister was more than happy to get replaced with my place in Jasrotia estate. After my parent's death being the elder daughter I was the supreme authority of this estate. people here used to love and respect me as their own elder sister. i knew my sister always wanted that power for herself so now I gave all my responsibilities to her and chose to stay inside the home only devoting my days to get the love of my beloved man.After all nothing more could be important than love.

My sister was a vivacious girl she allured my husband by her bubbly charm. But what she lacked was grace and class. I inherited it all from the rich cultural heritage of my family as I always stayed near to the very core of the family. But despite of my mother's endless efforts she couldn't teach her the grace and etiquette of our family. She was as stubborn as hell, a total rebellion by heart. But I always believed that a lady should be known for her dignified nature, her class, her grace and I never gave up those for cheap fun like my sister. I absolutely hated her when she used to roll down on others laughing on their cheap jokes. What a disgrace for a lady to have a substandard sense of humor! Men surely get attracted to these cheap gestures of ladies; they find them sexually be-witchery at first but not for long . Soon they realize how disgraceful it is for a woman to be so outgoing and open. Certainly not what a man would love to see in his wife. Being the obverse of her nature I then started flaunting my grace and class in front of my husband to make him realize the difference between the cheapness and the refinement of the high-class elegance which by God's grace he realized very soon.

I remember that day in the party when she was flowing around from group to group in her cherry red plain taffeta one piece when I stole the show by stepping in my dazzling nude Armani Privé gown. I didn't fail to notice from the corner of my eye how my husband gazed at me in utter surprise. I loved the bewitched look on his face and absolutely savored it. I perceived how his eyes gently brushed the nip of my bare neck where a lone forelock was dangling like a vicious serpent, how they rolled down to the interior of my body and shamelessly loiter on my bust. I discerned the thrust in his eyes and realized that very soon the sorceress will be defeated and I will win over the love I deserve.

But yet the road was not all silk and velvet. The spell of my sister was not so easy to break, I broke a million times seeing them both together before I could finally break them apart, but then again love shows you ways. I started finding excuses to stay even closer to my husband. Of course, I kept my intentions hidden from my sister. After all, you can't let your foe know about your plans, can you? I performed the whole thing very nonchalantly. She never really assumed what I was up to and it was all like a knife on the butter. It didn't take me much longer to seduce my man with my class and fine taste of aristocracy which my sister awfully lacked though being bought up in the same family. She was pathetically simple and middle class in her behavior right from her childhood. I remember how our mother had to scold her several times for playing with the kids of our servants. An absolutely loathsome demonstration of a classless character. Within months I was in the arms of my husband and he discovered his true love in me. We made love everywhere possible in the house. I especially used to choose those places where I earlier saw my sister making love with him. It always used to give me a strange kind of pleasure and a better orgasm. But yet the presence of that enchantress was very much eminent between me and my husband. So now it was necessary to do something about it.

I knew somewhere on the old mahogany shelves of our huge family library, there was an ancient Tibetan book about the uses of rare Himalayan herbs. Now was the time to find it out. Between the binding of the dry and cracked edge old brown leather the dull yellow fragile pages speaks about thousands of rare herbs of the Himalayas. Formulas invented centuries ago by the Tibetan monks to cure fatal diseases or to render their enemies something vicious something beyond human imagination and the book gave me the solution to my problem.

The next day I drove to the thick green of the hills and roamed in the layers of cedar and pine playing hide and seek with the slim dusting of the sun. I am the daughter of these mountains, I know every gravel, touched every fern, I rode my horse a thousand times through these hilly tracks since I was a child. The mighty Himalaya was my mate my boon companion my little feet touched the blades of it's green when I first started to toddle, my little eyes adored its beauty when my mother first brought me near the window, my little body wallowed on it when I first learned to roll on the ground and I knew it would never disappoint me. The day faded on the West Mountains as I came back with a bunch of green herbs hidden in my small silk Batuya bag.

Days passed the little dose of the herb mixed with food slowly started its work. My sister kept remaining sick her skin wrinkled and started shagging like an old lady beyond her natural age, her eyes sunken deep into the sockets and her hair started falling off making her bald at places. My husband wanted to take her to the hospitals of the big cities but I couldn't let him do that, can I? After so much of struggle I was finally about to get my man as only mine. How can I rune that ! By then my husband was too much in love with me to have any suspicion.He trusted me with all the decisions I took for her. I kept her in the house and treated her by bringing doctors from other places who were needless to say my procured puppets.

A very harsh truth of this world is men often fail to remain in love with a woman who has sickness burgeoning all over her body. A bite of humanity remains to wrench their conscience for which they often end up finding the solution inside the body of another woman. What an irony! isn't it? Anyway, day by day as the darkness of death swallowed the soul of my sister and my husband became stauncher as a lover to me.

By the end of that year, my sister died and I finally got married to my husband by the beginning of the next year. Oh! Confused? Don't be it's just that I forgot to tell you a little details of the story. Actually i thing which I didn't mentioned earlier is that my husband was married to my sister first. They met at their university where my parents sent my sister for studies. They did court marriage there, as she knew we Jasrotia's will never accept a middle-class boy as a part of our family. But years after our parent's death once when she came to meet me with her husband I saw him for the first time and it was love, at first sight. His charming personality, his shining deep eyes, his killer smile made me fall for him right away and I gave them permission to stay inside the Jasrotia estate.The rest of the story you all know already.

But all those details hardly matter now, isn't it? After all, the bottom line is, no matter what you can't give up on love.