Rathi Thamburaatti

It was the night of the pooram. There was an air about her. A nonchalance. A sway in the hips and a laze in the step as she ambled. A tigress, bedecked. Long dark tresses flowing to the waist, sheathed a body that shamed her legendary name sake - For she was Rathi, the Thamburaatti. The mistress.

Twilight. The evening lamps were being lit, and the women folk carried them out to the verandahs with the inimitable chanting of Deepam. They watched her walk down the street to the Tharavaad, bending at their waist in obeisance, yet admiring her beauty. A tinge of envy. He followed her... at a safe distance. The woman of his dreams walked in front of his eyes. Her stride reminded him of the great Kesavan of Guruvayur. She wasn't skinny, nor was there an excess anywhere. She had filled out at the right places, and then some more. As she reached the outer verandah of the Tharavaad, she turned around, and looked at him. Her eyes drank him in as he drowned in that gaze. The hint of a smile broke out discreetly. An admiration turned into an invitation. She walked on, leaving the door open. To the house and to opportunity. A few paces, and they were both in the open to sky, central courtyard of this palatial house. The naalukettu. Moonlight shone down on them in a vain attempt to cool down the raging desires that consumed them. Instead, a light breeze only stoked and fanned the fires building within them.

It had been four nights, though it seemed like ages, since they first met. And from the very moment she set her eyes on him, she wanted him. She craved for him. She was Kastoori, and he was Musk. And she wanted him inside her. Where he belonged. Hers. Owned. Enslaved. She had been watching him as he carried out the various chores around the tharavad, from feeding the cows, to climbing up the thengu to pull down coconuts, or chop veragu for the woodfired kitchens of the household. But tonight was different. It was perhaps the only night of year when this house was almost empty. The rest of the household was at the ambalam grounds for the pooram.

There he stood. Dark skinned. A rough mop of hair, a tight jawline, revealing long languid lips. Lips she wished were kissing her own. A broad hairy chest, muscular. Arms that weren't sculpted, but yet had the strength to lift her up, she felt. He wasn't muscular, but strong. Like a bull. Long hairy legs peeked out of his Dhoti. She wondered how they would feel wrapped around her smooth and soft legs. Holding her tight. As he dove into her. She could hardly wait, the thought made her flash a grin. One he had come to understand all too well now. She'd been teasing him all week. And now, there they were. Together and Alone. Hungry and Thirsty. Each waiting for the other to make a move. A game. Dodging, petting. A duel. He walked towards her, and she shuddered in anticipation. Closer and closer he came... And walked past her. She sensed him behind her. His breath. A breath that took hers away. It fell like a gentle waterfall of lust on her nape. She closed her eyes as the warmth sieved through her hair on to her skin. She felt him get closer. His nose nuzzled in her hair. Breathing in shikakai, chembarathi and mulla. Heavenly! He held her by the shoulders and kissed the back of her head. And she gave in. Surrendered to his mere touch. "Is that all it took?" both wondered. She, who had been coy with him all week, he who thought her to be way out of his league. Almost out of reach, he thought. She was Royalty. And he a commoner.

And yet, when he held her, she was all his. Completely. His arms held her tight as they traced down from her shoulders to her wrists. Fingers finding fingers. A union of souls that begin with bodies, commences when hands entwine themselves. Tightly Clutching. Not letting go. He pulled her closer towards him. She felt him and his warmth on her. Through the fabric. An unmistakable swelling, that only matched the one in her bosom. His hands went around her, with hers. He made them rest on her belly as he pulled her even closer to him. And then they broke apart, those hands. Not the bodies. A hand went up, bent her head, parted away the silky tresses as his lips swooped down to kiss her neck. While another found the erotic vortex of her navel. Pulling her even more closer to his manhood. His mouth opened, savoring the taste of her skin as she burst into flames from within. His tongue darted out as if to soothe the million goose bumps that sprung out on her skin by the tantalizing brushing of his mustache. She moaned in agony as his hands kneaded the flesh of her hips. Holding her closer, by her love-handle. She couldn't bear it no more, she amassed all her strength and broke free of his clutch. Only to turn around, look into his lust filled eyes with her own that glowed in desire. She reached up, pulled his head down and kissed him. Owned him. Showed him who was Boss. Who Thamburaatti was.

And then! A flash of lightning, heavens shook, thunder roared. Monsoon poured its heart out on the two lovers. As if to accomplish what the moonlight couldn't. To douse the flames of desire. But, yet again nature failed against nature. They stood. Holding each other even more closer, and the fires within a raging inferno! They kissed, lost in their own world of passion as water flowed in rivulets, soaking them. Her hands tugged at his shirt and tore it down. Buttons flying everywhere. His hands clutched her blouse, tugging at the hooks as they gave in to his expert ministrations. And there they stood, kissing, soaking in the rain and in each other's embrace. Her breasts pressed hard into his chest, as his fingers deftly found the secrets to her brassiere at the back. Her hands went around him, nails digging into his back.

Blood, Rain and Desires.

Strong hands lifted her. Drops of water pooled in her ample cleavage and he drank them as if they were theertham. His lips found a nipple, opened enough to engulf it in his mouth. He held it between his teeth and the tongue lashed at this gentle hardened flesh as another lightning struck the skies, and her core. She squirmed, her body arching backwards as he still held her up to the rain and suckled on her breasts. One after the other. She ached for more. As if to answer, his right hand held her by her thighs slid up and tugged at her mundu. He laid her down on the steps. Rain washed away her chandana pottu. Her eyes closed, yet her want was open! A hand delved in and pulled out the knot of her mundu. It came undone and rain soaked the fountain of her youth. An abhishekam, to the Devi. Only Momentarily. Before his mouth covered them. Taking what was his and giving her what she truly yearned for. He opened his mouth wide, and she opened her legs wider. He drank in her nectar as if a parched man found a desert spring. His tongue darted out and teased out her love bud. He held it captive between his lips, as the tip lashed at it like a whip. Each stroke more electrifying than the bolts of lightning that accompanied the rains.

She writhed under him. Squirming, begging to be released from this oh so sweet torture. But he held her down firmly and continued to stroke her clitoris with his tongue. Her moans sang her sordid songs of desire as he strummed the core strings of her pleasure. The rains were the percussion, her moans the high notes and his guttural approval of her wetness in his mouth the bass in this celestial symphony of passion as it rose to a crescendo. And then another clap of thunder as she gave in. And poured herself into his mouth, gushing...

"Eda...Kollaley!" she screamed. He drank her in, drowned in her nectar as the earth beneath them soaked in the rains. She shuddered, as her whole body shook in rapturous convulsions. And yet, she held him tight between her legs. Never letting go. Never wanting this to end.

After what felt like an eternity, the rains slowed down. And so did her heart beat. She opened her eyes, and saw him looking lovingly at her face drenched in afterglow. She smiled, signaled him up, and kissed him. Long and Deep. And mildly impatient. In a quick swoop, he lifted her up, and carried her inside. To her chambers. The thamburaatti's bedroom. It was a huge room, almost bigger than his whole house. Ornate, with brass lamps, Ancient desks, and a huge four poster bed. With silken mattresses and down pillows. He laid her down. A gentle kiss on the forehead. Only to drink up a wild drop of rain threatening to leave a trail down her nose. A kiss on the nose... before claiming her lips again. His tongue painted the insides of her mouth with the tingling color of his desires.

"Mmmmm..." he groaned, as a new energy engulfed him, and a familiar awakening of his manhood. He held her tight, strong hands holding her thighs open, as he delved in. And in one gentle but sure thrust, he was inside her! Her eyes widened as she felt him fill her insides! He went deeper. To the hilt, went the sword into the sheath. Their bodies fused, and retracted. Thus began their carnal dance. Rhythmic, Repeated, Rigorous. The large room was suddenly too small to contain their wild guttural shrieks of pleasure and the slapping sounds of their bodies. In the throes of passion, she lay with her eyes closed and her back arched, to take him in even deeper. He watched her face redden in pleasure, her brows twitching and the hollow of her dimples as she smiled involuntarily at the inexplicable limits of pleasure she surpassed every moment! And a solitary tear flowed down her eyes. She clenched her teeth tighter as his thrusts grew faster and harder and deeper. Her moans turned into wild screams, Fingers dug deep into his shoulders as she held him in a death grip. He rammed himself into her even faster, and the tempests in their bodies rose up in swirls.

And then, fireworks in the Temple pooram burst into the night sky outside, Just as his passion burst deep inside her. Filling her with a the warmth of hot sweet lava, with what she yearned for. And drove her over the edge again, and flooded their galactic union. He held her as they shuddered in tandem. And as the pyrotechnics dwindled outside, two souls lay sated. In each other's arms. For now. A balance of nature, as her softness lie in his coarse rough self. Royalty, in the arms of a commoner, A forbidden union, attained its goal.