RiKara OS- The Potter and the Clay |Thank you for 100+ likes|

Gauri stood by the window, watching the heavy drops of rain, pitter-pattering on the glass pane. It was a sight to behold; the whole meadow was soaked, and she couldn't help but draw a deep breath, breathing in the sweet scent of the dampened soil. She watched from the corner of her eye; her Jatadhaari Hippie was restless as usual, cursing the rains for leaving them stranded in a Godforsaken place where there was absolutely no mobile services. Stranded alone, in a dark barn, as the rain clouds grumbled in the sky, with heaps of hay, a dim lantern, and a small bonfire to keep them warm; someone would think they had stepped into the sets of a film where the hero and heroine were shooting for a cliched romantic scene. Thinking about it made her blush and she involuntarily giggled.

Omkara looked at her smile to herself as she observed the surrounding. For a moment, he forgot every single thing in the world, and his focus zeroed in only on his little chiraiyya who was now watching the raindrops against the window frame. How had he gotten so lucky? What had he done to deserve to be her husband? At present, draped in a sky-blue netted saree, she looked every bit of a divine angel. He smiled to himself at that thought. She was an angel in his life indeed; his very own angel. He was brought back to reality when she giggled again, and now, he was compelled to ask her the reason for her mirth.

"Kuch nahin, Omkara ji... Hum bass soch rahe the, ke kahan hum dono ghar se nikle the "date" pe jaane ke liye, aur kahan hum abhi yahan pe pahunch gaye hain..." Omkara bit his cheeks to hide his smile, "Accha? Toh tumhe mazaa aa raha hai yahaan? Aur hamare uss dinner date ka kya jiske liye maine itne mann se tayaariyan ki thi?" Her smile dimmed a bit as she guiltily looked at him, "Humein maaf kijiye. Agar humne woh shortcut lene ki zidd nahi ki hoti, toh hum abhi uss hotel mein araam se baith kar khaana khaa rahe hote..." He smiled broadly, letting her know he was just teasing her, as he walked up to her. Standing next to the window, he held her hand in his. She had gotten used to his touches now, and did not hesitate like she used to in the earlier days. "Tumhe sorry kehne ki koi zaroorat nahi. In fact, main bass tumhare saath thoda quality time spend karna chahtha tha. Hum dono hamari life mein itna busy ho gaye the, ke saath mein baithke baatein karne ka waqt hi nahi mil paa raha tha." She smiled as she agreed with him, as he continued, "Aur issey behtar kya jagah ho sakti hai?" He said, looking around at the dimly lit barn, "Yahan pe humein disturb karne ke liye na koi aayega, aur na hi phone karega..."

The very next second, she blushed while also feeling conscious about the fact that for miles and miles together, there was no one around; that they were stuck in a lonely place, on a cold rainy night. Just when Omkara was about to take a step closer towards her, thus taking advantage of the solitude that they were finally blessed with, he heard her gasp in excitement. "Arey, yeh toh humne dekha hi nahi tha..." She said, pointing out to a pottery wheel placed in the darker corner of the room. "Humara bahut waqt se mann tha ke ek baar toh humein ek mitti ka gamla banana hai; lekin kabhi mauka hi nahi mila..." And looking at a smiling Omkara who stood at the window with his hands folded at his chest, watching his wife talk so animatedly, she pouted, "Aur aap itne bade artist ho kar, humein yeh kabhi sikhaaya hi nahi..." He pursed his lips and while folding the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, he said as he walked to where she sat next to the wheel, "Toh koi baat nahi. Main tumhe ab sikha deta hoon..."

Gauri clapped her hands in excitement. Ever since she had learnt to sew clothes for the idols of Gods and Goddesses, she had always been intrigued as to how people sculpted these statues. She used to marvel at how people found the face of God in something as humble as the clay of the earth. Hardly did she imagine that fate would one day bind her forever to an artistic sculptor, who had the knack of almost bringing his work, his art to life. Her thoughts came to a halt when Omkara snapped his fingers in front of her, drawing her attention. She hadn't even noticed when he had gone and brought some wet clay and a pail of water. "Shuru karein?" he asked, and she nodded excitedly. She was about to squish the soft clay brick with both her hands, when she felt him grip her wrists. "Tumhe yeh sab utaarna padega..." he said, referring to her jewellery- the silver bangles along with those pom-pom bracelets- her very own style statement. She nodded and was about to pull her hand away from his hold, when she felt his grip tighten.

"May I?" he asked, and for a second she felt her heart skip its beat. Nodding her head, she watched him as he gently removed the bangles and bracelets from her hands, leaving them empty. He was about to take her ring off, when she folded her finger, forbidding him to do so. "Yeh hum nahi nikaalenge..." He felt a sense of pride, but chose not to comment. Instead he nodded and let her be. "Let's start..." he said.

Never had he imagined the experience to be so sinfully tempting, yet so pure. Seated behind her, almost enveloping her in his embrace, he had placed his hands on hers, as she tried to soften the clay and give some shape to it. To say that Gauri was unaffected would be a huge lie. For with every breath she took, she felt his warm breath fanning her neck. She had tucked the edge of her saree at her waist. Feeling him this close, she felt goose bumps all over her skin. It didn't help her that he was more focused on caressing the back of her hand and her wrists in an excuse of teaching her pottery. For some reason, his hands left hers, leaving her hands to mould the clay alone, and she suddenly missed the warmth on her hands. The cold clay was beginning to take a shape on the wheel, and there was still a lot of effort to be put into it to bring it to the desired shape of a vase.

The very next second her breath hitched when she felt his very cold and sticky hands caress her forearms. With his warm breath still fanning her neck, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, as his hands made its way to her arms. "Gauriii..." she heard him whisper in a moan, and it was her undoing. Leaning her back against his chest, she relished the way his clayed fingers caressed her skin, leaving a tingling burn on her skin as his hands settled on her shoulders. The wheel kept turning, but by now, Gauri had lost interest in what she was once so keen on learning. She gently turned her around, so she would face him. For a whole minute, he said nothing; he just kept looking at her, his gaze shifting back and forth from her eyes to her lips. With no other word spoken, he leaned ahead, and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. She hadn't even realized when she had bunched the material of his white shirt in her clayed hands, leaving an imprint of her fist at his chest. Without moving away, he lazily dragged his lips over hers, and took his own sweet time to press against them.

He heard her moan in frustration at his slow pace, knowing that this was what they both were craving for since weeks and months. She was as hungry as he. But he wanted to take this slow. Tonight, as their special night, was his plan; with dinner in mind, he had made special arrangements for their golden night at a honeymoon suite of the hotel. He hadn't even imagined though that they would land up in this place.

Feeling Gauri tugging on his shirt, he knew that he had to slow down, lest it ended before it began. Being their first time, he knew he had to make this special, and even if she seemed in a hurry, he wanted her to savour every precious second of this night. He hadn't bothered to ask her if she was ready; for it was evident in her eyes.

Holding her wrist, he loosened her grip on his shirt. "Iss pal ko mehsoos karo Gauri, jisme sirf hum dono hain... koi jaldi nahi hai humein..." he said in a deep tone, and it was then she realized that she had been furiously tugging at his shirt to get rid of it. With a deep blush, she turned her face away as she realized how much she craved for him. Before he could make her face him and look into her eyes, she wanted to move away and steady her nerves. She was about to move away when she gasped aloud as she felt the cold, clay-caked fingers run across her waist, cooling her skin yet setting her ablaze. Just when she felt his fingers skim the soft skin of her belly, almost circling her navel, she shook her head in a no, and with a shy smile, gently pushed him away... "Gauri..." he called her back, in vain, for she had already unlocked the door, run outside the barn, and drenched herself in the pouring rain.

She stood under the heavy rain, that soaked her from head to toe, cooling off the fire he had set her body and heart on, but even the icy droplets did very little to help her. Just when she thought her breath had calmed down, she felt his hands on her hips. Without turning her around, he pulled her against himself so that her back was against his body. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. "Omkara ji..." she whispered, as he held her by her arms and gently turned around. While she looked at the muddy imprint she'd left on his shirt getting soaked in the rain, she heard him say in a soft tone, "Agar tum ready nahi ho, toh we can wait. Maine socha tha ke tum hamare rishte ko aage le jaane ke liye tayyar ho. But agar tum waqt chahti ho, toh hum thoda aur wait kar sakte hain..."

Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him. How could any man be so considerate enough to prioritize her wishes? With her experience of the big bad world and the men like Kaali in it, he truly was a savior sent by her Lord Shankarji Himself. Her eyes welled up and her throat choked up as she tried to find the right words to tell him that she couldn't wait to be his in the truest senses. With no words helping her, she went closer to him, almost a breath apart; standing on her tiptoes, she leaned into his body. Gripping his collar in her fists, she pressed her lips against his, a very first and a bold initiative she'd ever taken in their marriage. With arms quickly winding around her, he pulled her into the protective embrace of his body, driving himself and her crazy as their very drenched and very aroused bodies brushed intimately against each other.

Breaking the kiss, Omkara pulled away for a second, only to scoop her up in his arms. In swift seconds, he carried her inside the barn, and placed her gently on the softest stack of hay. He moved away, only to have her hold his arm, "Kahan jaa rahein hain aap?" He slightly blushed as he said, "Darwaza toh bandh karloon?" She blushed furiously, as her heart thudded, imagining what was to follow in the confines of the four walls. In less than five seconds, he was back to lay down next to where she lay. She felt his gaze roam hungrily all over her body, knowing that the flimsy material of the saree stuck to her like second skin, and she couldn't help but bite her lower lip as his gaze lingered on her chest for a longer time. She knew he was aware of how aroused she was; the cold weather and her drenched clothes did not help either.

Staring into her eyes, he took his time to unbutton his shirt, and with each button undone, he felt her watch his body, rightfully. Slowly, he got rid of his shirt, and hovered above her. His hands were still covered with clay; she realized it when she felt his cold fingers trace the skin of her nape, leaving a wet trail of gooey mud. Her breaths labored as his hands proceeded down her neck and skimmed over her breast. It was a mere touch, a gentle brush of his fingers over her hardened crests through the fabric. Yet the jolt that ran through her body caused a light buzzing in her ears.

Settling his hands on her hips, he bent down to whisper in her ears, "I love you, Gauri..." Saying this, he kissed the outer shell of her ear. She touched his face and made him look up at her, leaving a light trail of earthen clay on his cheek as well. His intense gaze made her forget what she wished to reply; instead, she ran her fingers down his neck, over his collarbone, on his chest and his abs. He hissed as her fingers ran over his belly button, and his fists closed almost painfully over her shoulder. "Kya hua Omkara ji?" she asked, worried, not knowing how a simple touch had aroused him. "Gauri... main... hum dono..." he managed to say, closing his eyes shut, afraid if this sweet sensuous dream would vanish, and unable to convey what he wanted to say, while relishing the feel of her fingers on his naked torso. She seemed to have understood his breathless whisper, and mimicking the same tone, she said in his ear, "Hum bhi... yehi chahte hain..."

Without opening his eyes, he dipped his head into her neck and bit down on her skin, unable to restrain himself. The sweet pain was nothing compared to the primal pleasure she felt when his teeth nipped on her skin. She could do this her whole life and still be amazed at his touch. She closed her eyes in shyness when his fingers unhooked her sleeveless blouse, and his hand crept under it to cup the swells of her bosom. A soft cry emitted her lips as she threw her head back, while his fingers tweaked the already-hardened peaks of her mound. It did not take long, thereafter, for him to get rid of their clothes.

His hands were everywhere on her, and she felt like she would explode into a million shimmering particles as his mouth closed over her breast, and his fingers found its way down south. She, being new to this, was shocked at how intimate a man and wife could get. Omkara took great pride as waves of pleasure kept washing over her, over and over again, causing her to ascend another peak even before descending one. "Touch me..." he whispered harshly against her mouth, as he now began to rock his pelvis into hers. And she obliged when his hand guided hers. Only when her fingers wrapped around his manhood did she realize something. He was huge; too huge for her. From all those biology lessons and tips taught by Annika Bhaujaai and Bhavya, she knew that his and her body had to connect in a fashion that was as old as time. But how could he even fit her, when he could barely slide two of his fingers inside her.

Omkara seemed to have noticed how stiff she had become, and despite his urge to ravish her, he knew he had to slow down so as to not scare her. "Kya hua Gauri?" he asked in a strained voice, trying hard to gain control while her fingers were still wrapped around his shaft. She blinked, looking into his eyes, "Hum... yeh... kaise hoga?" He took a minute to catch his fastened breath and calm his heightened desires, "I promise I'll go slow. Thoda dard hoga, but sab thik hoga..." She seemed to be half-convinced with his words, but one look into his eyes told her that he meant it. "Aap par poora bharosa hai humein..." she said. And Omkara's eyes welled up, unable to marvel at his fate of having married this young woman who loved him with all her heart, mind, body and soul.

Knowing how slick he was, he gently probed at her juncture, knowing well that piercing into her would hurt her. And it did. The tears sliding down her cheek and her silent gasp did let him know. He stilled, knowing the raw pain coursing through her body. "Gauri... I need to... move... he said in her ears, and she knew right then and there, he had stilled for her. Nodding her head, she gripped his waist and held onto him. Slowly, he withdrew himself till he was almost out. When he entered her again, she gasped. This time, for a different reason. The dull pain was there, but with it, a different sense of pleasure took over her. Omkara, gauging her reaction, repeated the motion and this time, her eyes shone in wonder. "Phir se... she whispered, and Omkara gladly complied. It did not take long for her to turn into a wild goddess from a meek woman, raking her nails over his back and scalp, twisting his hair in her grip. This sweet torture only heightened Om's pleasures and soon, he found himself pacing up and driving himself into her.

With a loud growl, he swore he emptied every ounce of himself into her, as she too fell apart in his arms. Sweat beaded on their naked bodies, he was too tired to say anything. Collapsing on top of her, with his head resting on her chest, he kissed her where her heart beat, mumbling an "I love you..." and as he dosed off to sleep, exhausted, he whispered in his ears, "I love you Omkara ji..." earning a sleepy smile from him. The earthen clay lay there on the wheel, unfinished, in the dark corner of the room, while the potters found contentment and solace in each others arms.