Unwrapping the Lioness - Graduation

I am Rani, a 27 year old Indian woman, an ambitious high tech worker, working in the USA. This story started two years ago, when I was at my graduate school in a major city of Texas. The cancellation of my research assistantship, caused a financial desperation which led me to adopt an arrangement with an older, married, white American sugar daddy. In my first series, Graduate School Sugar Knight, I describe my journey of discovery as a person, my priorities, sexuality and consequently my decision to get into a sugar arrangement.

About me - For those who have not read my previous series, I am a mix of North and South Indian parents - my Punjabi father gave me my 5'5" height and my very expressive light-brown eyes. My Tamilian mother bestowed me with a smooth, deep gold and bronze skin, and that thick, rebellious hair that tumbled down my back in dark waves or on humid days it went into a crazy afro mode. With a narrow waist of 26 inches, a sharp contrast to the fullness of my 34C breasts, my hips, at a solid 32 inches, made me voluptuous in the right place. I was not petite or light. I grew up and studied in urban modern India, but I did not start exploring my sexuality till I was in college, simply because I did not come across any boy who knew how to cherish a woman. Since then, I have had a healthy appetite for pleasure with the right person who knows how to respect and pleasure a woman. Love is a new journey for me.

This series captures my subsequent interracial romance story with my sugar daddy. It is filled with highlights of my conflicting emotions impacted by my situation, my Indian femininity, sensual desires of belonging, cultural differences which colors my open sexuality with my American sugar knight. The romance story has a lot more than just my sexual pleasures, to set the right expectations for the readers.

In this chapter, our arrangement evolves into a very casual relationship, mutually beneficial and lots of fun. Then I realize I am trapped and do not see this going anywhere, which ends up in an emotional turmoil.

NEW YEAR CHAOS TO RESOLUTION

I kept away from discussing family life beyond his love for his daughters, with occasional anecdotes of his time with them. He volunteered to discuss his sexless marriage and lost love. I was advised about being a good listener as part of my arrangement, which I did. I did not ask too many questions about his wife. He did show me family pictures, and I followed his profile on instagram.

However, these emotions turn into chaos when he spills out his raw emotions about his wife barely an hour into the new year. Chris' final emotional implosion started on New Year's Eve at his house.

Chris usually spent most new years at social parties with his family. This time of year, he stayed behind at home with his two daughters. His wife, Emily was in Las Vegas. She was the number two in a boutique sports marketing firm, leading the charge for a massive New Year's bash celebrating their client's professional football team success. The firm was headed by Alejandro, a man Chris described as a suave, retired baseball player who had successfully traded his jersey early due to injury and used his sports connections to establish this firm. I do not quite remember if Chris ever shared about how Emily met Alejandro, but they shared their marketing talent and people skills. Chris reminded me how it was Emily who wooed Chris at college and convinced him eventually to be a life partner.

Emily had invited Chris to Vegas, with a casual "you should come if you want", hinting that she was going to be busy anyways. But Chris declined. He told me he was tired of travelling for his own company and didn't see the point as Emily would be busy with the event. He also did not like gambling or drinking alone. He rather spends extra time with his daughters now that his company was sold.

As usual, he began scrolling through the marketing team's Instagram feed. At first, it was standard event prep photos and video reels the team would post. Their company had decided to have a small annual company celebration the night before at the hotel club. Those posts became more candid as the celebration peaked.

Chris saw a photo of Alejandro with his arm draped heavily around Emily. It wasn't the pose of company colleagues. It was the possessive lean of a lover. Then came the video. It was a short, frantic clip of the team screaming in joy. In the background, partially obscured by the crowd but unmistakable to a husband's eye, were Emily and Alejandro. They weren't just celebrating. They were locked in a passionate kiss, his hands brazenly tucked under the hem of her mini-skirt.

Chris told me he felt a cold silence. No rage. No anxiety. Just a confirmation of a truth he had sensed for a long time. His silence was broken by his older daughter, Katie rushing to him down the stairs, her face pale, her own phone gripped in her hand. She had seen the same feed.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I guess you're seeing the pictures."

Chris, as a loved and respected dad, "Katie, don't worry, it's probably nothing. Just the party people getting drunk and playing around."

But Katie wasn't a child anymore, she was 18. She walked into the room and sat across from him, her eyes bright with a secret that had been eating at her for months.

"I need to share something," she said, with nervousness as Chris described to me.

She told him about a Saturday back in June. She had gone to her mom's office to pick up a credit card for a mall shopping trip. The parking lot only had Emily's car and Alejandro's. Katie had walked into the open office, intending to surprise her mother, since she hadn't responded to any text messages. Instead, she heard the sounds coming from the conference room.

She described the scene to Chris in vivid detail. The glass conference door was open, the voices, her mother screaming Alejandro's name, "Oh Alex, Alex" and the sight of them on the large wooden table.

"Mom was lying on the table with skirt up and Alex holding her legs was fucking mom." Katie trembled with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Katie told Chris that she backed out quietly, waited fifteen minutes in the parking lot, and then called her mother's cell to say she was "just arriving." When Emily came out, her hair was a ruin, her face flushed with a guilt she thought she had hidden.

Katie also told him how Alejandro's daughter, her own friend, often mentioned her father "working late" on the exact same weekends Emily was "at the office." This wasn't a one-time thing.

"What did you do?" I asked him softly as he finished telling me this, I thought of my own guilt with Chris.

"I hugged her," Chris said. "We sat there for a long time. I told her not to panic. I told her that Emily and I have been distant for years. We respect each other and enjoy being parents, but the love died a long time ago."

He told Katie something that night that showed me the true depth of his character. He didn't demonize Emily. He told his daughter that her mother deserved to be loved, and if this was where she found it, then it was "okay." He promised they would figure out the future together, as mature adults.

Katie had left that conversation pacified, her respect for her father reaching a new level that would help my relationship with Chris later. She saw him as a man of infinite patience and understanding.

Of course, as Chris shared this with me, I realized the hypocrisy. Katie saw her father as a victim of a broken marriage with grace and triggered by her mom' s deception. She had no idea that while her mother was on a conference table with her lover, her father was finding his own escape in a small college apartment with an Indian girl half his age.

That New Year's Eve, I was at my apartment complex community hall, surrounded by the loud chatter of my graduate student friends, music and the smell of spicy potluck. I was cozied up with Mila drinking wine, as we cherished our wild sisterhood bond we made that year.

Chris didn't want Katie' New Year's to be disrupted with her parents' issues. "Go be with your friends, Katie," he told her. "It's New Year's Eve. We'll talk more tomorrow, I promise." With his younger daughter already away at a sleepover, the house was suddenly empty. The moment Katie's car pulled out of the driveway, Chris called me.

"Can I be with you tonight?" There was a sense of urgency in his voice, which did not seem like lust. The countdown to midnight still hours away, but Chris sounded like a man who needed me.

"I can escape after midnight. I am in the next building. I'll leave my apartment door unlocked for you, just go in and wait for me. I'll be there as soon as I can." I responded as I couldn't leave right away.

Thirty minutes into the new year, I walked into my dark living room, Chris was sitting there on my sofa. He looked exhausted, yet strangely peaceful. It was then, in the quiet sanctuary of my living room, that he shared his shocking evening with me. I cozied up in his lap, holding his head on my shoulders looking at his eyes. There was no shame, guilt or sadness.

"How are you feeling?" I curiously asked not being able to decipher his reaction or state of mind.

"I feel free, somehow. Sad about what happened, but happy about the clarity." He responded without thinking too hard.

"Should I be guilty about feeling that way?" He contemplated looking at me.

"Of course you should be guilty! Look where you are." I responded by reminding him of his own affair with me.

"And I hope I am no way involved in this?" immediately concerned about the complications of his life spilling into mine.

"Should we end our thing here? You definitely need time and space to settle things with your wife. You need to be with your kids." I added with a bit of stammering nervousness and hesitation, my eyes tearing up realizing my own heartbreak of losing this caring person.

In my mind, I knew I was not seeing this relationship beyond my own graduation anyways. My selfish physical desire was forcing me to extend the joy I get with Chris, in addition to the commitment we had made initially, but I knew there was an end date. I was thinking it could be better ending our affair sooner than later, before I get any more emotionally attached myself. I have walked away from my two past relationships in favor of my career. However, this time I felt more connected, more passionate, more happy and there was a part of me who wanted this for much longer. Saying those words were tough.

"Maybe a new year's resolution to start without a sugar baby is what is destiny. The time happens to be perfect." I tried to joke and break the tension of the subject.

I expected him to nod, to realize I was right, and to walk out of the door to face his reality. Instead, Chris did something that shocked me to my core. He reached out, grabbed my waist, and pulled me into him with a ferocity I hadn't seen before. He held me so tight I could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart against my chest.

"No," he said, his voice cracking but firm. "Rani, my clarity is to be with you now. You are my destination."

I pulled back. Tears started to fill my eyes. I walked to my bedroom sulking, pushing my head into my pillow not wanting to cry. Chris slowly followed me laid down beside me, keeping a distance but looking at me.

"I am sorry Rani. I had no intention of bringing any pain or complication to you. I want to be completely transparent. This is how I feel. You are part of my life. I do feel that the future is unknown. I do feel your confusion. I am sorry again."

"Chris, I need to know. Why are you doing all this? Now that I have my funding, I thought I was free to go. Where do you actually want to go with me? What is it that you even like about me beyond my body and companionship?" I looked at him in his blue eyes trying to make sense of him.

"Besides your obvious beauty, which I could stare at for hours, and that brilliant brain of yours, I have something more selfish. Your youthful ambition, Rani. It's infectious. It reminds me so much of myself when I was starting out. Being around you, seeing your independence, dedication for your research and your future, makes me feel that fire again. I wanted to experience that drive through your eyes."

He squeezed my hand, "And then there's your culture. I've lived a very pre-defined life. Your perspective, the poetry in those songs you just played, the way you see the world, your joy in dancing, it keeps my mind curious wanting to know more. I want to be part of your life and culture."

I listened, my heart hammering, knowing where he is headed, as I feel I am in an emotional bollywood love story. My eyes started to leak.

He moves closer to me holding both my hands. "You asked where I want to go with you? Rani, I love you, dearly. And I want us to explore this path. Maybe I am selfish, but I am honest."

My tears started pouring uncontrollably down my cheeks. I felt a deep love for him that had been building since my birthday. He checked every box I didn't even know I had. I felt desired not just as a body, but as a mind. I felt pampered, safe, and for the first time truly understood.

But as I looked at him, the ambitious, practical geek in me took over.

"Chris," I whispered, my voice thick with a mix of affection and pain. "How can you say that? How can we talk about the rest of our lives?"

I pulled my hands back slightly, wiping my eyes, though the tears kept coming.

"You know how I feel. My heart feels for you. My body reacts when you touch me, and the way I find peace in your presence. You are giving me everything, my independence. But Chris, you're married. Also in my world, even if you were not married, the relationship with an older white American man does not make sense."

"I have already crossed so many of my own boundaries with you. I will be committing a bigger sin if I say something more. Besides, I do not see a practical path for us in our social worlds."

I looked at him, my heart aching even as I felt the warmth of his presence. I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting the blue of my sweater soak up the tears.

"I understand Rani. Let's leave this conversation here. You don't have to say anything more. You and I cherish our time together. Ok.?" Chris spoke softly in my ears as he hugged me tight into this new year.

"Happy new year, Rani. No decisions. There is a lot to look forward to."

I stayed quiet as he held my hand. The silence took over as we simply dozed off into our first night of what was going to be an eventful year. No sex, only a loving embrace.

SPRING IN MANHATTAN

The spring semester was crazy for both of us. After a love revelation from Chris under the heavy fog of my practical skepticism, we decided to simply let status quo prevail to deal with his company acquisition deal and my thesis completion plus job search mania. We embraced a casual routine that saw our relationship mature into a true partnership. My thesis was nearing conclusion with countless peer, advisor and department reviews.

"You have to present it like you really own it and are ready to bring it to the world." Chris took time to provide precision comments that helped me make this a very industry relevant.

He even assisted me in buying a charcoal-grey tailored blazer and pants business suit. We spent hours in my apartment practicing my defense, grilling me with questions until my answers were effortless. In parallel, he connected me with a senior HR director from his network, a woman who worked with me to polish my pitch for campus recruitment.

Chris was completely overwhelmed in the final stages of the sale of his company. He stopped by my apartment to escape, almost once a week, talking about the issues, which were quite educational for me, or even working, while I cooked biryani and blended a mango lassi for him. We were both operating at 110% capacity, driven by our own ambitions, supported by each other's comforting presence.

Despite the madness, our Friday nights remained sacred. By the time we met, we were both exhausted. Our passion became our escape, a deep release from the pressures of our respective worlds. Passionate sex came with a mix of routine and experimental poses on the dining table or kitchen counter. He was pulling me into his exhibitionist tendencies as the car back seat quickie became a regular for him during lunch breaks from his office picking me up from my lab. In those moments, the age gap, the cultural divide, and the looming legalities of his divorce vanished. It was just skin, breath, and fierce orgasms announcing our mutual belonging.

I even stopped hiding him. When we went out for dinner near campus, and I saw fellow grad students or faculty, I didn't look away. When asked, I told them we were dating, mentioning we had met through his company's scholarship.

At home, Chris continued to be a caring father, helping his eighteen-year-old's high school graduation and college selections. But behind the scene he had confronted his wife Emily about his discovery with his daughter. To my surprise, American culture, different from Indian approach, was not at all a melodrama, it was a genuine conversation. Emily admitted her love for Alejandro although his wife was creating a lot of conflict. Apparently, latin women are known to be very emotionally vocal. They needed time. Chris did not reveal anything about me. I was still his secret life.

Chris admitted being distant and offered an amicable and generous separation. He offered her the house and a significant share of his company's sale, ensuring she would be set for life. They would be friends and co-parents. He just asked for some time as he would not be able to cash out for almost 12 months from April. Emily also was in no rush since Alejandro needed time to settle and they were not sure about re-marriage. Such a civilized deal ending a love story was such an American thing I witnessed.

I was simply happy not to be a part of it.

"I have to be in New York City for a banker roadshow all week," Chris told me one evening, tired but hyper immersed in his biggest career achievement. "I know it's your spring break. I'll be in meetings twelve hours a day, Rani. But if you want to come, I promise to be yours for the spare time I have, plus, you can see the city."

"The greatest city in the world?" I didn't even let him finish. "Chris, I haven't left this campus since I came to the US. Just get me there. OMG, Yes. I don't believe it!" My thesis defense was ready and all I was doing was anxiously waiting for the defense date. I needed a break too.

Monday afternoon a black Uber arrived at my apartment for the airport as Chris drove separately from his final prep session at the office. I was dressed in my casual jeans and a pink collared t-shirt with hair in a ponytail, ready for the road. I had a light jacket draped over my arm for the NYC cold. We met at the check-in counter.

"First class?"

"Yes, I almost live on the plane, I am a top tier customer, it's well deserved," he said, pulling me into a hug. "You deserve it too for your hard work and your patience with me."

"Can I get you started with a drink?" the flight attendant asked.

"Should I? Do they have sweet wine? Or a nice colored cocktail?" I looked at Chris, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

"Be careful, Rani. I've seen you after two drinks. You get very frisky." Chris leaned over, whispering in my ear.

"You're scolding me like a concerned father, Chris. Should I just call you 'Daddy'?" I giggled in a bubbling with excitement and leaned into his earlobe.

"Don't you like your girl frisky, Daddy?", I continued as he smirked.

"She'll have a vodka cranberry. Make it easy on the vodka." He cleared his throat, turning to the attendant.

The drink hit me gradually, warming me from the inside out as we watched the clouds. Chris retired to his laptop as I cozied into a nap cuddled under a blanket, my head rested on the window pane.

The taxi ride from the airport felt like a scene pulled straight from a movie as I looked around with excitement as a newbie tourist. On the plane, I had told him that NYC was famous for high-end Indian cuisine. He got busy on his app to order some kebabs for hotel delivery.

"They are not joking when they call it the concrete jungle." Chris was quiet, but acknowledging some popular buildings along the way.

"I won't be much of a tour guide tonight, Rani," he said, checking his watch as the car pulled up to a tall glass hotel. "I need to sleep to wake up at 5:30 and head out to meet my bankers at 7:00 AM. The roadshow starts at 8:00." We whisked up to a suite that took my breath away. Two sprawling rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows that immersed me into the city.

"I got this because I know you will be staying here. Enjoy the view." I hugged him tight. When the delivery arrived, we ate by the window into the city. The food was incredible.

"I have to be in bed by 8:30," Chris said, leaning back and resting on the sofa getting comfortable in the hotel robe. "I'm sorry, Rani. I know you're excited."

"It's okay," I said, with a slow smile. "I think I know exactly how to help Daddy get the best night's sleep of your life."

I didn't wait for him to respond. I cuddled up tight against him, placing my thighs on his laps. We started kissing as I stroked my fingers and hands on his bare chest under his robe. He was getting aroused as I caressed his tent building up in his boxer briefs with my gentle touch of the fingers. I was kissing him, his neck, licking his ear lobes. I looked up at him, moaning and enjoying, his hand holding me tight around my shoulders.

"I know what you want, Daddy." I giggled.

I stood up, switched all the lights off and stood in front of him. I didn't care that the buildings across the way were close enough to see into our world. I know he likes it. Slowly I peeled off my pink shirt and kicked away my jeans. I watched Chris's eyes widen, and momentarily forgot his anxiousness.

I grabbed his arms, pulled him to the window as I leaned back against the cool window. I screamed a bit as the cold glass hit my shoulders in surprise. I got rid of my bra and panties putting on a show for the city. I saw the nearby office buildings were dark. Chris moved in immediately and in his ever caring nature, he slid his arms behind my back, cradling me so the cold glass wouldn't sting my bare skin. He kissed me with a desperate and heavy passion. I pushed his robe off his body and grabbed his briefs down.

Once my back warmed up the glass window, he grabbed my hips and lifted me completely off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pinning me to the glass with the weight of his broad white body. As he penetrated me, I looked back and looked down from our high floor room, sending a feeling of vertigo through me. I held him tight, closed my eyes, bit his neck and nibbled on his earlobes, my voice dropping to a primal whisper.

"Daddy. Please fuck me. I'm all yours, Daddy. You have made me shameless."

"Rani baby, I want to show the world how I worship my goddess." Chris whispered, grabbing me tightly as he thrust his slightly squatted body pushing inside me with heavy panting. I was sandwiched between Chris and New York City. I had a mental rush with this entirely new experience that I had never imagined, feeling like a goddess in the cloud being loved on top of the world.

After my first shivering orgasm against the window, I whispered, "Now take me to the bed.". He carried me into the bedroom and finished with a hard pounding that I am used to leaving us both breathless. He came with a loud grunt and within minutes, he fell into the deep sleep he so desperately needed.

I was still excited and awake, used to the student life of sleeping beyond midnight. I put on Chris' discarded robe loosely on my naked body, as I sat on the edge of the sofa, eating the creamy cheesecake we had ordered for dessert and watching the Empire State Building glow.

I felt a sense of feminine fulfillment. I was loved, and I was happy to serve my lover who is providing me with independence and joys of the world with extreme caring. I cherished every moment with him and wanted to support him and love him back. Around 10:00 PM, I retired naked next to Chris, ending the wild memorable first night of an Indian student girl in the great New York city.

The following three days, Chris was busy locked in boardrooms with bankers, I became a solo explorer. I took the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, I stood in the middle of Times Square, watching street artists hustle like any Indian city I have lived in. The scenes I'd seen in countless Bollywood and Hollywood movies were now real for me. I ventured into MoMA and walked past Wall Street absorbing the smell of ambition that drives the entire world. I video called my parents, panning the camera to show them the towering skyscrapers. I told them I was visiting with "friends", a half-truth that felt guilty. I explored shops to find souvenirs for my lab mates and a high-end, limited-edition NYC Marathon athletic wear for Mila.

"Investor cocktail and dinner Thursday night. You need to be prepared. Banker's admin set an appointment for you at Nordstrom for Wednesday. It's all taken care of." a text from Chris on Tuesday late afternoon.

Wednesday afternoon, I felt like a princess in the world fashion capital. A specialist at Nordstrom had been assigned to me, courtesy of the banker's expense account. I picked out a black midi dress with intricate colorful floral embroidery. It was comfortable, conservative enough to be professional, but vibrant enough to show my spirit. They paired it with delicate pearls and platform flat sandals since heels weren't my thing.

Those first two nights, Chris came back late and utterly drained. I didn't mind. I had spent my days eating NYC street pizza, falafels, and ice cream, followed by a highly rated Indian takeout dinner in the suite. When he returned, we created our own ritual with a hot bath together to soak away the day's sweat, followed by mutual foot massages.

We made passionate, slow love before falling into a dreamy sleep.

Thursday evening, the concierge had booked me into a local salon for hair and light makeup. They gave me a formal tied hair back with some decorative jeweled pins leaving two sultry curls hanging on my face. When Chris returned to change, he stopped in the doorway, his eyes traveling over my dress and pearls.

"You look incredible, Rani," he said, pulling me close. "The company is getting up-valued even as we speak. I feel like you're my muse, my good luck charm. Your goddess effect is definitely rubbing off on the deal."

"Hello, Mr. CEO Daddy," I giggled. "I am so honored to be with you, a hard working, kind gentleman, who deserves everything."

He looked sharp in his branded suit, looking like the CEO of a big money tech company. I kissed his cheek gently.

We laughed, but as we headed to the car, his tone turned serious. "The banking community is aggressively male chauvinistic, Rani. Be careful. Some of these guys might assume things... given the age gap and how beautiful you are. Simply stick to the story, be honest about yourself and we met through the scholarship program, and we're dating."

He wasn't wrong. At the party, I felt the gaze of several men in the room, and I saw a few "fist-bumps" directed at Chris, a classic masculine acknowledgement of a prized woman on his arm. Some of the ego filled Indian men approached me in Hindi to hit on me aggressively, typical New York style of casual hookups.

I navigated it by finding a circle of women. I talked about my research as they shared the latest trends in security companies. I was feeling like a professional with boosted confidence to almost start a new company. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience witnessing the power of American finance driving global innovation. I am so happy Chris bought me here.

A woman named Linda Chan, who had worked with Chris for years, cornered me. She was curious about me, and about Emily. Chris' wife she knew.

"Chris and Emily are going through a divorce, Linda," I said kindly. "You should probably talk to Chris about the details." Chris joined us a moment later, pulling Linda aside. "Keep it confidential until the deal closes, Linda. I don't want the cap table to be disrupted at this stage." She apologized for prying and, surprisingly, offered me her card for career support.

By the end of the night, the appletinis had worked their magic on me. I was "frisky," just as Chris had predicted. I cuddled him publicly, my hands lingering on his waist. He was enjoying my attention, feeling top of the world, until he sensed my desire and finally excused us. We made out passionately in the back of a black cab, the city blurring past the windows. He later told me that I did not realize my hands were stroking his hard arousal throughout the ride. Apparently he enjoyed it and the black cab driver did not care.

When we stumbled back into the suite, our kisses had a taste of his whiskey and my appletinis, smell of expensive perfume, and the raw pheromones. I had a "frisky" hunger. I was all over him since the elevator ride, my hands pulling at his silk tie.

Chris turned on all the lights, he pinned me against the edge of the bed, his suit jacket still on, strong hands finding the hem of my black embroidered dress. He bunched the fabric up around my waist, his fingers tracing the line of my thighs with a possessive urgency.

"You were a goddess tonight," he growled against my ear, his breath hot. "Every man in that room wanted you, but you're mine."

I have been moaning since my cab ride, now my legs spread by his hands on my thighs. I unhooked his belt to pull down his pants and briefs in one aggressive pull. He just pushed my wet panties aside to finger my dripping yoni. I rested my back with my hands behind me, looking into my lover's eyes, dripping with desire and open for his ling to start his mating ritual inside my yoni.

"You are ready for my worship." He quickly entered me with his aroused cock right there against the bed edge, it was rhythmic pounding, fueled by our egos, alcohol buzz and adrenaline. I kept whispering "Daddy" as he drove into me with a primal animalistic intensity. The first time he came within minutes, drenching me and his cum running down my thighs. But he stayed hard and erect.

After a quick hydration break for both of us, he stood me up, turned me around to unzip me to let my dress fall. After frantically unhooking my bra, he cupped my breasts, kneaded them and pinched my nipples, as he moved my hair to the side to gently bite my neck. We were looking at each other in the reflection of the glass window. He bent me down on the glass wall with my hips facing him. He entered me from behind while standing pushing my body tightly against another cold glass wall face looking at the city scape and my hips in his tight grip. My alcohol and desire transformed into a mind and body numbing pounding session. I belonged to my lover and he was taking me into a state of satisfactory bliss. This was all in a brightly lit room, a complete show for NYC to enjoy. I was too much in a trance to care. I barely remember constant position flips, sweaty blur of limbs and my screams, until we were both completely spent and tangled on the bed. I felt the physical numbness as I woke up from my intoxicating sleep, for a moment, not realizing where I was.

Chris had a slower Friday recapping with his bankers. That evening, he took me to see the show Chicago. Afterward, we had a romantic dinner in Little Italy, enjoying authentic plates of lasagna. We skipped drinks that night, yet walked back to the hotel like two passionate lovers in a dream, the cool night air of New York wrapping around us. We were a couple from any romantic movie I have seen.

Back in the suite, I didn't turn off the lights. I wanted to illuminate every curve of my body against my contrasting lover. I led him to the sofa, pushing him back while he undressed slowly. I stood on the sofa towering over him, slowly peeling off my clothes, watching his blue eyes track the movement of my hands.

"Tonight is for your success," I whispered.

I climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. I took my time, my long, dark hair falling forward like a curtain teasing his face and torso as I leaned to kiss him. As I began to ride him at a slow pace at first, rubbing my clit in a rolling motion. With my hands around his neck, I arched my back as I wanted him to see everything, the way my breasts moved. He gripped my thighs, his thumbs playing my clit, his gaze locked on mine.

"My goddess is in full swing." Chris appreciated my trance state. As the rhythm accelerated, I felt a sense of total power and total surrender all at once. When the climax finally hit, it was a slow, rolling wave that left me collapsed against his chest, my heart racing against his. We lay there for a long time, naked, New York City witnessing the beautiful act of our spring break.

An Indian brown-bronze goddess claiming her lover's heart, mind and body of a hot white CEO. New York didn't just witness our passion, we became part of it. I had never felt more seen, more desired, or more fulfilled. I too succumbed under Chris' shameless showmanship with open windows giving a show to buildings right next door.

Saturday morning the bankers showed their gratitude for increased valuation based on Chris's roadshow performance with a flight home on a corporate jet. It was the peak of luxury, with wide, plush leather sofas and just the two of us in the cabin with a dedicated crew. After a light lunch, I crawled beside Chris's on the oversized seat. He tucked a heavy blanket around us, and I dozed off like a pampered princess.

As I woke up during our descent, I realized this lifestyle was addictive, and a threat to my independence. I looked at Chris and re-affirmed my plan. I would allow myself to be cherished for another three months and then would find my job in a different city and stand on my own two feet, and continue on a common path of Indian lifestyle in the USA with an Indian man.

BI CONTINENTAL PRESSURE

After a few months, in May, I had successfully defended my thesis and the Chris company acquisition was going to be announced at the end of May. As my graduation loomed, a different kind of pressure began to arrive in my inbox and over WhatsApp calls from India. My parents, sensing I was about to become a "settled" professional, began their own campaign.

"Rani, do you remember Amit?" my mother asked one evening. Amit was a boy from our old neighborhood, a few years older than me. "He is in California now, working a very good job in tech. He has his Green Card, Rani. And he is so handsome now."

They wanted us to meet and date. In their eyes, Amit was the "correct" path. He was the version of the American dream my parents and even I looked forward to. Every time I looked at his photo, I saw a safe, predictable future. But every time I thought about meeting him, I felt like I was betraying the woman I had become in Chris's arms.

"Amma (mom), let me graduate first," I would deflect, my heart racing as Chris sat just a few feet away, checking his email. "Let me get a job myself. We can talk about Amit later."

I pushed the thought of the "handsome old childhood neighbor friend" into the back of my mind, but I knew the collision was coming. I was building a life with an American man who was currently ending a marriage, while my family was preparing a red carpet for a traditional future in California.

Chris divorce was finalized on paper, yet they were living together in the same house as roommates. He had planned to move out at his own time. Then came the pressure from him. It was aggressive but not direct. While I had started receiving decent offers, including one from a major tech firm, Chris's company offered me a position in the CTO's office for the cybersecurity practice. It was a dream role for a fresh graduate, leveraging my precise skills, with a compensation package that made my heart stop. The salary was nearly double the market rate, and the stock options were astronomical. Because I knew the company was on the verge of a cash sale, by the people I met in NYC, the options were a guaranteed and massive payout. I looked at the offer letter as a golden cage designed by Chris to ensure that even after the semester ended, I would never be more than an elevator ride away from him.

By the first week of May, the pressure became unbearable. The deadline to accept was mid-May, just days before I was set to walk across the stage for graduation. I felt like I was suffocating. If I took the job, I was essentially signing over my independence to Chris. I would be his employee and his mistress, forever trapped in the shadow of his life.

I started to break down. For the first time since we met, I spent two weeks in total seclusion. The truth was, I couldn't look at him, while I was secretly plotting my escape from the very life he was trying to build for me.

The final week before graduation felt less like a celebration and more of a super volcano of anxiousness erupting in my brain. I was lost in a sea of variables I couldn't solve for. My parents' hopes for me and Amit, job offers, and the terrifying weight of my own love for a man who seemed to own my mind and body.

It was Friday evening, when Chris finally came over to my apartment to talk, I was shaking with nervousness. I had talked to Mila before and she was ready to meet me again after my meeting with Chris. She supported me and advised me to get things cleared up instead of letting him take over my senses and go to bed. I smiled, and appreciated her candid support. I needed that.

As he walked through the door, my heart was rejoicing to meet him, hug him and let him take me. I missed him, but I resisted those forces. I was also afraid of him, everything he did felt like a golden bar being added to my cage.

He reached out to pull me into his arms, and I let him, but I remained stiff. I didn't melt into him. I was a rigid cold embrace, in comparison to the girl who used to crave his touch. When he leaned down to kiss me, I turned my head just enough so his lips met mine in a dry, brief peck with my lips tightly closed.

"Rani," he whispered, his eyes looking into mine. "Talk to me." I couldn't look at him, turned around, walked to the sofa and asked him to sit.

"I love you, Chris, but I'm confused and feel that I have lost control," I said, my trembling voice. "Every time I think of the future with you, I see your family, your age, our cultures. And then I see this job offer. It's perfect. It's too perfect, custom created for me to be part of your future. If I take it, I'm not Rani, the independent smart girl who got this by my own merit. I will be Rani, the CEO's puppet. I'm anchored to you. I want to escape to a different city just so I can find out who I am without you standing over me."

I waited for Chris to jump to conclusions and convince me to tell me what is the best. But he didn't. He sat on my small old college apartment sofa and looked at me with a terrifyingly calm clarity.

"Rani, listen to me," he said, his voice a low, steady anchor in my storm. "You are mixing your love life with your career. Let's separate the two issues."

"Yes, the job is customized for you, not for you to be with me." He explained technically, "Listen, I have put you under a director Rajesh, a brilliant security expert like you, who I have worked with for the last 10 years. He loved your research, and he is the one who proposed to me that he needs smart people to expand the security domains of our application. He is an extremely hard worker and he is going to grind you. You will learn faster in this job than any big company." He smiled, "Frankly, I will have to fight Rajesh for your time."

"And, yes, I did make an exception to onboard you at this late stage pre-acquisition with a generous offer." He admitted. "That is the least I can do to make sure I am able to hire the smartest."

"Go talk to your professors. Talk to the smartest people you know. Ask them if you'd be a fool to turn this down. If they say yes, take the job for you, not for me." He advised.

"Let us talk about me now." He was calm, but there was a sense of vulnerability on his face.

"Rani," he began, his voice low, "I'm officially a divorced man. But I need to be honest with you. Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now."

"I see a future with you, but I'm as confused as you are about the how. So, I'm putting the steering wheel in your hands. This is your life, your independence. You tell me what you want. We can stay as we are, boyfriend and girlfriend, enjoying one day at a time. We can be just friends, supporting each other from a distance. Or, if the pressure from home is too much and you are desperate for the traditional marriage, you can go and explore those options. I won't stand in your way."

"It is easy for me to disappear into my work. You know that is my escape I used with Emily also", He told me that he was leaving the company a year after the acquisition. During that year, he would be deeply buried in integration.

"And as for the cage, if you take a job in California or Seattle because you need to be away from this city, and you realize you still love me, I will follow you. I'm not tied here anymore. I'll move my life to yours." He reminded me that "location is not tied to me being with you. I will disappear from here if you want, or appear wherever you are, when you want."

"Choose wisely, Rani.. for your sake, not mine."

His logic did help me to put a structure to my decision making. I calmed down. I spent the next three days on campus, talking to my mentors and my peers. Every single one of them looked at the offer and told me I'd be insane to walk away from that kind of financial independence and technical leverage. I realized that by running away from the job, I was actually letting my fear of Chris control me. To be truly independent, I had to take the best path for my career, regardless of who paved it.

I signed the offer. I took the signing bonus. I had to start work immediately after graduation, before they announced the acquisition.

GRADUATION AND BREAK UP

Mid May, graduation day came with its usual celebration. I partied with Mila and my other close college friends for days leading to the day. Most of my graduating peers had family over. My family in India were extremely proud of my achievements, and did not make it to this event, and promised to join me once I am settled.

At the smaller event for graduate students, as my non-graduating friends cheered from the stands, I found Chris in the crowd. He was leaning against a railing, looking at me with a pride that was almost visible from the stage as I received my degree.

I didn't go to him. I stayed with my fellow graduates, hiding the heart pounding love I felt for him. But as our eyes met across the field, I gave him a genuine, radiant smile to thank him.

"I saw where your eyes and heart were on the stage, Rani." Mila pointed out later. I admitted that Chris was all over me with the floral embroidered dress he bought me in NYC, and he made sweet love to me in that dress. I hadn't even cleaned it, our smell of love probably lingered in it.

That late afternoon after my ceremony and picture taking with my friends, I retired back to my apartment, which I had to vacate in a week. My apartment was silent, with a lingering scent of the jasmine perfume I had worn for graduation. Just me, a bouquet of his flowers, and a card from Chris that celebrated the woman I had become. I was independent. I was successful. And for the first time, the cage door was wide open.

"Can I see you to congratulate you in person?" Chris texted.

"Yes, I am in my apartment alone." It took him barely a minute before he knocked on my door as he was hanging out in my parking lot waiting for me.

I hugged him real tight, burying my face in his chest. He was my American Knight who had saved my dreams, but also for the man who enabled me to discover and pursue both my mind and body desires.

I had made my choice and wanted to share that with Chris, in the college apartment where it all began. The job was mine, the career was set, but I couldn't see a future where I didn't eventually break his heart or him walking away should our relationship not work out, breaking my heart.

"I've made a decision," I whispered, my voice trembling. I told him I wanted to take him up on his offer where we became "just friends." I told him I needed to settle down on my own now. See if I can stand up and live this new life without him, even though my job was under his shadow.

"I don't know about my future yet or love, but some day I may want to explore the traditional avenues with Indian mates of my age and all." As I started crying, I saw the flash of pain in his blue eyes.

"If that's what you need to be whole, Rani, I accept it," he said softly, with an extremely sad face that I never saw before. He gracefully accepted like he always does to my requests.

We kept hugging tightly as my fingers dug into his back. I was an emotional mess, my vision blurring with tears I had tried to hold back for weeks.

"Can you be with me tonight.. For one last time." I looked at Chris with tears pouring, holding him tight.

"I am here for you as long as you want." He did not care about the frantic work calls and text he was receiving. He simply told his assistant that he had a home urgency, and could not respond till the next day.

"Carry me inside, for one last time." I requested. He grabbed me from below my hips and carried me to bed.

"Do you remember this dress? Make love to me in this dress. I am going to keep it to remember you forever." I cried, as he held me laying beside me on my college apartment bed, where it all started. I wanted a memory etched in my mind. I pulled him toward me, my kisses frantic and salty with tears. I needed to feel every inch of him one last time.

"Please don't cry. Today is your celebration day. Enjoy. There is only love here. Ok?"

Chris didn't move at first. He just looked at me with patience, letting me be. "I want to kiss every inch of you, Rani," he said, in his low voice. "I'm going to smell you, and see you, and touch you. I want to remember you and your passion, my goddess."

He took his time undressing me, but he kept the dress on my body, bunching the delicate fabric up around my waist. He pulled out my black bra and panties. He began a slow, agonizingly beautiful exploration of my skin, activating every one of my senses. He pecked my skin with wet, soft kisses, starting at my forehead and working his way down to my toes, then back up the inside of my thighs, kissing and tickling my tummy.

When he reached my breasts, his hands began a gentle, rhythmic massage. "The sweet mango yogurt," he murmured, referencing the memory of our first tastes of each other. Despite the tears, a small smile broke out from me. He moved lower, his experienced tongue working its magic on my wet yoni, which had become my addiction over the past year.

"I'm going to miss this so much," I panted, my fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm going to miss what you do to me."

I needed to claim him too. I pushed him up, urging him to undress, and then I forced him back onto the pillows. I dominated on top of his body with my movements fueled by a desperate love that we are going to end. For the last time, I wanted to let go. I pecked his entire body, holding him tighter than I ever had before. I squeezed his solid chest, his muscular arms, the strength of his thighs. I reached his hard erection, kissing and pecking the entire length of his shaft, wanting to taste him until it was etched into my soul.

I climbed on top of him, kissing him with a fierce, hard hunger, sucking on his wet lips until they were swollen. "I want to leave my mark on you," I whispered, and I leaned down, giving him a deep, dark hickey on the side of his lower neck.

He rolled me over, his weight a familiar, heavy comfort. He entered me slowly at first, his eyes locked on mine as if he were trying to make time pause forever. He wrapped his entire body around me, shielding me from the world outside, and then the rhythm changed. He began to thrust with a hard intensity, the way he did when he was in the mood of extreme passion.

I let out a low, broken moan, calling his name over and over. "I'll miss you, Chris. I'll miss you so much."

He grabbed me tight, his arms hooked under my neck and his hands clutching my shoulders, pulling me flush against him. He buried his face in my neck, his tongue and lips moving furiously against my skin while I bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming. He was hammering into me now, a primal, rhythmic force that pushed me toward a trance-like state of passion.

I was holding him tight knowing that I am the one who is pushing him out of my life. I felt guilty, selfish, perhaps unthankful. Maybe I was letting him have me as an apology. I was so confused. But I knew, I had to feel my independence again, and not feel like being in a cage. I wanted to leave this immoral relationship in my dark past.

I reached my climax first, then a second, amazed at his stamina. We didn't change positions as we stayed locked together, the sound of his groin slapping against mine the only noise in a room filled with bright Texas evening sun. Because it had been a month since we had been together, his release was an explosive hot flood that filled me and began to drain out of me as we finally collapsed.

I lay there as he remained inside me, as I started to sob again. "Why is life so hard, Chris? Why does it have to be this way?"

He smoothed my hair back, his own eyes damp. "It's going to be okay, Rani. You're just starting your life, and it looks fantastic. With or without me, live it exactly the way you want to."

I looked at him, and through the grief, a flood of gratitude began to pour out of me. Tears were still rolling out of me.

"Thank you for everything, Chris," I said, kissing him softly. "Thank you for being so kind and caring." Kiss. "Thank you for saving my education when I was at my lowest." Kiss. "Thank you for your love." Kiss. "Thank you for showing me your world, New York, everything." Kiss. "And thank you for the job, for my independence."

He smiled then, a small, weary expression of love, and kissed me back. "Thank you, Rani, for making me feel alive again." Kiss. "Thank you for your love." Kiss. "And thank you for teaching me how to worship a goddess."

I let out a final, wet giggle, burying my face in his chest. "I will miss you, Chris."

"I'm not going anywhere, Rani. Even if I'm just a friend, I'm right here."

We stayed that way for a long time, two people who had built a connection across the world. We turned to our side, still embracing each other tight like long lost lovers. I was feeling nervous about losing him, and even about my independence that I so wanted. I dozed off in the comfort of his world, he had built for me, only to wake up late at night around 2 AM, feeling thirsty.

"Sorry I had to leave, as I could not see you crying again." His note said under my phone. Chris was gone. I cried the rest of the night, holding the pillow he laid on.