An Unexpected Love

This may not sound the sexiest story, but I wanted to share one of my experiences of an unexpected love with you.
Karan was my senior in a medical college in Mumbai (TNMC). I had never spoken to him apart from casual pleasantries. He started talking to me when he heard that a long-term relationship of mine had ended.
He expressed that he had thought I should be with someone who could keep me happy. And he knew how to do that. He joked about it whenever he met me.
Once I was posted on night duty in casualty, he came to visit me and sat next to me. Seeing that my eyes were red and swollen, he knew I had been crying. He asked if I wanted to go get a midnight cup of coffee which I refused. He sat and tried to divert my mind by asking about studies and future plans.
He also mentioned that he would be leaving Mumbai in about one month from then. Despite his efforts, I could not stop crying. He kept asking me why I was so distracted and what I was thinking about. He kept looking at me strangely as if he had something on his mind which he wasn’t saying.
He also kept his hand on mine, but he didn’t say anything when I moved it away. The doctor from the adjoining room called and asked me to check for certain medications in an area separated from the main room by a thin curtain. I went in and drew the curtain, not realizing that he had followed me in.
He moved closer and took my hand, and turned me towards him. He looked me straight in the eyes and came closer. He asked me to just close my eyes and not say anything. He was sure this would make a girl like me always be given happiness, smile, and always have been with someone who appreciated me.
He was about a foot taller than me. As he leaned toward me, I took a step, but I was against the bed. He turned my face towards him and began to kiss me slowly at first. Sensing my confusion, he pulled back and looked at me and said, “Trust me, this will make you feel much better.”
His lips moved towards mine, and his hands set themselves firmly on both sides of the bed. A hundred thoughts were running through my head. Things that my boyfriend had said during our relationship, thoughts about whether this was wrong, and why it happened.
Why did he come to me leaving the girls he spent all his time with? We had only been talking since a few weeks, that too, in passing. Was this really supposed to make me feel better? Could anything at all? I had tried everything to no avail.
I thought about my boyfriend calling me fat and unattractive and even a prude. I wondered even more what Karan saw in me. Why did my being upset bother him, and why had he come here in the first place. Had he already anticipated this, had he been planning it all along. And how far was this going to go?
I didn’t know what to do. I had started kissing him back, which only seemed to encourage him to push a little more towards me. I could feel his hand just a few centimeters from the side of my waist. Suddenly I heard the sound of the door creaking and the staff nurse calling my name.
We jumped back, embarrassed as she might have seen us. He looked at me, smiled, asked me to think about it, and said he would meet me the next day. We ran into each other a few times over the next two weeks when he would smile and ask if I had cried since then.
My mind was in a state of utter confusion. While, on the one hand, I had always thought of myself as unattractive and undesirable, this attention was something I wasn’t used to. I didn’t know how to handle it. I knew he wanted to talk about what had happened.
But twice when he tried to bring it up, I only switched the topic or left mid-way. I didn’t know what to tell him because I didn’t know how the episode made me feel. This is what my boyfriend had wanted from me many times. But I wasn’t able to offer.
But now, I could go to someone who had expressed nothing for me clearly. He didn’t even know that much about me. One day he even came up to me and asked if I wasn’t fine with what happened. I wasn’t even sure if he had discussed things with anybody else.
While we didn’t text or even talk every day, the mounting tension was palpable. We had to talk about things sooner or later. I didn’t know how much longer I would avoid the confrontation with him or myself.
One day we were in the library studying, which happened often. As the library was going to shut, we got up to leave and walked out together. I told him he could carry on. I just wanted to use the washroom. He said it was dark. He would just wait for me.
So we climbed up a flight of stairs to the upper floor into a dark and isolated corridor. I felt his hand brush against mine as I took my bag off my shoulders. When I came out of the room, I couldn’t see him in the corridor. Finally, I saw him near the door of an adjoining room.
I asked him what he was doing there. He called me towards him, and when I reached there, he took my hand and led me inside the room. Before I knew it, I was against a wall with his hand pinning me down and his lips on mine. The room was dark and windowless, and the door was shut.
We were in our own quiet corner of the college. I could feel his hand on my waist with my hands on his chest. All this time, my mind was in overdrive. “Is this really happening,” I thought. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened in everyone’s life.
It was spontaneous and impulsive, not in keeping with other events of my past. My mind flashed back to an incident that had taken place when my boyfriend and I had gone for dinner. He tried to kiss me in the car when another friend was next to me.
I remembered the ensuing fight and wondered why none of that seemed to matter now. I didn’t think about where this was headed or why it was happening. It seemed pointless to think of it. Words flashed in my head that had come up during a long series of fights.
It had left me feeling fat, ugly, and utterly worthless. I didn’t do anything to stop what was happening. Not even when I felt Karan’s hand slide below my kurta and onto my skin, light and first and then a little firm. What would my boyfriend think if he knew this? If he knew that someone could want me?
I could feel him pushing towards me, his hands on my waist, one hand still pinning my hand against the wall. My hand was on his stomach, and I could feel him wanting to push closer against me. I tried to shut my thoughts out and come back to what was happening. But my mind kept going back.
I felt his hands move away and didn’t realize what he was doing at the time. After a minute, I heard the belt buckle, at which time he wasn’t touching me, and a rustling sound after I heard his pants drop. A minute or two passed, and I was confused.
I felt him against me as he bent down to kiss me, and I didn’t know where to move. I couldn’t even see what he was wearing and was unsure if he was naked. I could feel his t-shirt, and his hands were holding my waist tight and lightly pulling at the waistband of my leggings.
I was lost. Everything felt like a blur. What was happening, and how was I supposed to react to it? How was it supposed to make me feel? This wasn’t anything like what I had anticipated would happen in my life, despite reading people doing crazy things.
He asked me to pull down my pants, and I did. I didn’t think about anything. I just let it get carried forward as it was going. I felt him rub himself against me erect, but it wasn’t smooth. He kept moving back and forth, trying to kiss me in between, but I was blinded.
My mind couldn’t register how everything was happening so fast. My hands stayed lightly against his stomach then against the wall. I wanted to move them, but he was holding my hand hard. His hand restricting me made me feel like I wanted to move it. I hadn’t experienced this before.
It felt like everything I had thought revenge would feel like. Someone could leave me at the end of 6 years saying I wasn’t attractive enough or didn’t put enough effort into how I looked. He deserved to see that someone was there who wanted me as I was.
My mind flashed back to a conversation I had with him. He had told me that he wanted to know if it was possible to have sex against a wall. I imagined telling him that it wasn’t and that I knew because I tried. He was moving back and forth, fast. He hit me near my clitoris.
Sometimes moving lower below that, sometimes hitting me right in between my labia. I don’t know what it was specifically about the encounter that left me unable to stop it from progressing.
The fact that it was all so sudden and unexpected The fact that I liked that someone wanted me. The fact that it all seemed so hurried in a dark corner with fumbling. Or maybe just that I wanted to get back that feeling of someone being there with me.
The thought of being alone was just too overwhelming. When he finally released my hand, I took a step away and touched myself down there. To my surprise, I wasn’t as dry as I felt. I quickly pulled up my pants but smelled it on my way out. It smelled like the material of the condom.
When we came out, I stopped for a minute and looked at him, questioning and asked, “Did you…?” He replied not to worry and that he didn’t and asked if he should drop me home. I made an excuse and ran. I wanted to move as far away from the situation as I could.
When I reached home, I didn’t know how to look my parents in the eye. I was so completely embarrassed. It progressed to a feeling of hurt and disgust. He tried to ask me to come over to his house on numerous occasions after that, but it didn’t work out. A few weeks later, he left Mumbai.
Over the last few weeks, I have relived that day many times about the unexpected sex with my friend. I am still unclear on how to deal with the barrage of emotions it brings. The implications of it in my life now are too much to allow me to objectively see how it impacted my life then.