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A complete deviation from how I usually write on thisspace, I wrote this post for Blogadda’s Pringoo -sponsored contest “Being Invisible“. Psst… Guess what? I won it!

Today, we could do anything we wanted and the world would let us do it without raising an eyebrow. I was very sure of it. The little dried flowers in my hand were our ticket to unfettered hedonism.

I crushed the flowers and dissolved them in a glass of water. I shared it with my husband, the pleasures in store for us already sending thrills along our spine.

My light sun dress fluttered in the breeze as we stepped outside. The flowers did promise invisibility – we had tried them out before, but it seemed prudent to not take the risk of dressing down yet. He was dressed too and he looked down at me and grinned wickedly when the first person we passed on the street (our neighbour) failed to acknowledge us.

My heart was racing, I couldn’t believe we were actually going ahead with it.

A chance encounter with a mendicant while on our tour of North India showed us a way to revive a lot that was unravelling in our perfect and busy lives with each other. We didn’t believe the saadhu at first, but when he fed the flower to his dog, who then proceeded to vanish before our eyes, we lost our breath and our doubts.

We cut short our vacation and sped home with a costly haul in magic flowers and a thousand possibilities already blooming in our minds for their use. We decided to use them for ourselves alone and in a manner that wouldn’t harm anyone else, but would still profit us. The first batch went in using them at our respective workplaces, to get deals moving the way we wanted. The second batch were used up getting our things back from our feuding relatives. The third and fourth batches were similarly deployed and through out it all, we had more fun enjoying the consequences and confusion that resulted from our invisibility than we did at any other point of time in our marriage.

The flowers were working, and how!

The fifth batch was to be the last and we wanted to do something special with them, so we kept them aside for our 5-year wedding anniversary. The saadhu had warned us that consuming the fifth batch would not only grant us invisibility for a lesser period of time but would also be highly aphrodisiac.

I giggled at the warning now. My body was already limber and I felt like as though I could float away and do all sorts of fantastic things in mid-air.

We were passing by the park and I saw a pretty girl sitting on a bench near a spreading copse of bougainvillea. A sudden idea hit me and I sprinted from his side to where the girl was.

She was leaning against the bench with her eyes closed; her lips moving in tune to the music player booming in her ears. She looked about 21 and had a wild-child look about her. She would be perfect, I thought.

Her throat was arched and bare and I lightly kissed the base of it. I saw his eyes widen in pleasure when my fingers skimmed her breasts.

The girl was startled and looked around to identify who had touched her. But she was all alone by the bougainvillea. She shook her head and went back to her music.

He had drawn nearer and his colour was high. I could sense his excitement and arousal. He motioned me to do more. I shook my head, stalling and making his lust escalate a bit higher.

I sat on the bench, next to the girl and noticed her short, flared skirt and silently offered my thanks to her. I lay on my stomach and stretched along the bench, my head very close to her hip. My own dress was short and I knew he could see the bottom of my rump peeping out. His hands on my body confirmed this.

All through this, we were quiet, cat-like. The girl was oblivious to our presence. His hands snaked in, between my parted thighs, urging me to mimic his movements on the girl. I obliged. I was careful not to touch her though. I didn’t want this spell to break.

But her heat was beckoning me. I wondered at what exactly she was listening to. Maybe a risqué audio-book or someone’s recorded voice delivering pleasure.

I couldn’t bear it any more, I touched her. She didn’t start this time. She caught my hand. I looked up at her face, half in fear over what she would do now. My blood was thundering in my ears. She didn’t even open her eyes or move. She simply said, Whoever you are, whatever you may think you are doing, you better do it well and you better see to it that you complete it.

My fingers moved against her in a promise. She relaxed her hold.

My husband was now beyond arousal. I could sense it. I got off the bench and knelt in front of her. Gently parting her legs and hitching her skirt a bit higher.

She hummed contentedly and let me do what I wanted with her. I in turn, did to her what he was doing to me. Parting, teasing, touching, pinching… I was in his grasp and the girl was in mine. We moved in tandem, writhed in sync and when we let go, we let go with a quiet, wild abandon.

It felt amazing, like as though this was some invisible line we had all crossed. I didn’t feel guilt though. What I felt was an insane sense of freedom. Of perfect bliss. I was pleasured and had pleasured and what I felt now was more than any regular pleasure.

I could feel the effect of the flower begin to wear off and I quietly got up from my crouch and took my husband’s hand and walked back to our house. Where we could love again. For five more years. For fifty more lifetimes. Without any magical invisible flowers.


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