In the vibrant city of Kolkata, nestled within a middle-class neighborhood, resided Urvashi Roy, a 36-year-old Indian housewife with a story as intricate as the weave of a Bengali saree. Urvashi stood at a petite 5'2", her presence marked by an intriguing blend of strength and vulnerability.
Her almond-shaped eyes, a deep, enigmatic brown, held a glimmer of hidden dreams, while her long, flowing black hair cascaded like a river of silk down her back. Urvashi's face, adorned with delicate features, featured full lips often graced with a touch of crimson, an invitation to the secrets she held within. Her curvaceous figure - 36c-32-38, spoke volumes of her natural allure.
Urvashi's life was defined by the strict control of her father and brothers, who acted as the ringmasters of her existence, taming her wild spirit into submission. She often likened herself to a tigress trapped within the confines of a circus, her true nature suppressed. The once-burning desire for freedom had dimmed over the years, replaced by a sense of security - in the familiar dominance and control surrounding her.
Fate took a different turn when she crossed paths with a man named Karan, her husband. Unlike the men of her past, he was loving and caring, offering her a taste of true freedom. Urvashi could finally breathe free with Karan - her spirit soaring like a tigress set free in the jungle. But as the initial euphoria of liberation faded, echoes of her past began to haunt her.
Karan, who cherished her independence, encouraged Urvashi to dress impeccably, celebrating her beauty. He even didn't bother playful flirtations and lewd comments from his friends, viewing them as a testament to her allure. Yet, despite Karan's unwavering support, Urvashi remained ensnared by her submissive tendencies, yearning for the cage and a ringmaster. Ringmaster to slake her restless spirit.
There was one aspect of Urvashi that was particularly intriguing. She rarely wore perfume. Instead, she preferred to let her natural scent linger, relishing the sensation of a man praising her raw, untouched fragrance. It was a unique and personal quirk, a secret weakness few knew about.
Eight years had passed since their marriage, and Urvashi found herself still in search of equilibrium between her desire for freedom and her longing for security. Her story was a complex interplay of conflicting desires, where the past and the present intersected. She wondered if there was a way to find happiness, whether in the cage, the jungle, or somewhere in the delicate balance between them, all while savoring the praise of her raw scent.
PS: Inspired by my friend Urvashi Roy on facebook.
Open for discussion in private.