I looked around, blinking my eyes in the pitch dark. The only thing perceivable, which roused my olfactory sense, was that pungent musky aroma. I frowned at its familiarity, despite being at a loss to discern my current location. Seemingly, I had already smelled the whiff that made my mouth water. Closing my eyes, I envisioned those fleshy thighs and that glossy yoni open for inroad, and then…
‘Who is this?’
I gave a start and opened my eyes. Thanks to the first sign of illumination, I could directly locate the source of that mellifluous voice. She was standing with her arms crossed across her big chest. Awestruck, I gave her naked splendor one roaming gaze. She had a beautiful spotless face, with elegantly braided hair. Impetuously, I touched the silky plait that draped over my left shoulder like a thick black snake; her locks weren’t longer than mine. Her curvaceous figure oozed sensuality, and her supple skin illuminated the space where we stood facing each other. Straightening my left arm, I looked up at her face again. Her beautiful pink eyes or I thought the illumination made them unusually pink, coldly lingered on me. Immediately, I felt my breath hitch and my feet nailed to the ground. As though giving me a lewd look, she licked her lips. Feasibly, my stupefied comportment had pleased her for something she anticipated.
‘Are you expected, Sundari?’
Her question startled me out of my benumbed state. ‘Wh-what,’ I stammered.
‘Are you expected,’ she repeated. ‘No one but my mistress or I know how to open the doorway of this virginal mansion.’
‘Mistress,’ the raised tone of my voice betrayed quizzicality as I spoke the word.
‘Ah, you aren’t supposed to appear out of thin air in her canal Sundari! She might have sent somebody with an invitation to your dwelling.’
I stared at her, cudgeling my brains to remember who had popped by my doorstep a few days back. After conveying her mistress Apsara’s endearing salutation and a brief message concerning her desire to see me in person, the gorgeous ambassadress handed me over that rainbow envelope and a glassine map; she casually forbade me to read the contents of envelop until my arrival at Mansion Lesvos, built high on Mons Sapphyonai.
‘Yes,’ I affirmed, to my surprise, in a level voice. ‘Dutika was her name. She delivered this envelope, emphatically instructing me not to read Apsara’s letter but when I arrive here.’
‘We do not say her name for the sake of correctitude befitting our modest temperament. However…’ she paused, looking at the torn envelope in my right hand.
‘Do you keep guard on the gate or something?’
She laughed. ‘I am the sentinel of this canal and yes, watch over the doorway that you opened just a while ago.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Why do you ask a sentinel her name?’
‘For the sake of correctitude befitting my amicable temperament,’ I said; my unpretentious intonation surprised me a fortiori.
‘My name is Kumari,’ she declared.
‘As beautiful as a princess,’ I remarked.
‘No, the keeper of the Hymen,’ she contradicted, giving me a pleasant smile.
‘The Hymen,’ I exclaimed.
‘You can find it only after reading our mistress’ second letter.’
‘Her second letter,’ I said, ‘but how can I get it?’
‘Look up and palpate the ridge above you.’
I complied with her instruction. There was indeed a wide ridge directly above my groomed head. Outwardly, it was of the same length as my forearm and the teeth made its stony surface well jagged. As I caressed the damp ridge, a pink glazed line appeared following the trail of my fingers. I gaped and withdrew, moving my arm down. Was it some kind of sorcery or my mind playing tricks on me in a gloomy cold ambiance?
‘You’ve just touched a chord Sundari,’ Kumari spoke up, startling me out of my amazement. ‘The walls will be wetter in less than no time. If you really want to get hold of her letter before it becomes sopping wet, you know what I mean.’
I raised my eyebrows; perhaps she wanted me to get ahead and be shepherded out of that canal. Without much ado about nothing, I raised my left arm and caressed the ridge again. Casting a fleeting glimpse at Kumari, I could easily make out the object of her lustful stare. She was obviously ogling at my partly bare midriff. Despite myself, I beamed at her. No sooner had I located the overhung corner of another rainbow envelope than I pulled it out. Excitedly, with my trembling hands, I tore it open and extracted a glassine leaf. A short message was written, in that script font of hers, which I read aloud:
Mahila, my darling!
If you really desire to meet me and let our love bloom for perpetuity, please allow the sentinel Kumari to pleasure you. She will be indebted to lead you to her Hymen.
Biting my lip, I looked up at Kumari. A broad smile on her lips suggested her conviction of my acquiescence. I reflected, realizing the remoteness of an alternative, and gave her a nod. She uncrossed her arms, exposing that magnificent pair of full breasts and hardened nipples. She began approaching in my direction, taking deliberate steps and staring into my eyes. Spellbound, dreamily smiling at her, I reclined against the wet wall and closed my eyes. The musky aroma filled my lungs, flaring my nostrils once more.
To be continued