Platonic Love

PLATONIC LOVEMAKING

A Passionate Love Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

Nowadays you have two types of friendships and relationships:

1. “Offline” Real World Friendships

2. “Online” Virtual World Relationships

Online relationships are like platonic relationships.

And – like platonic friendships – online friendships are so ethereal and graceful.

So  - I sometimes wonder – whether it is a good idea to physically meet my online virtual friends in the real world – and convert the beautiful  online platonic friendship into a real world physical relationship – and descend from the exquisite ethereal plane to the harsh physical reality of the real world.

Metaphorically – descending from a “platonic” online relationship to a “physical” offline relationship is like marrying your lover – and converting a lovely romance into a prosaic marriage.

While these thoughts – I remembered a story I had written around 25 years ago – before the advent of internet into my life – when all relationships were “offline” – but there was still a dilemma:

Should you let a beautiful platonic romance remain in its state of delicate bliss…?

Or – should you bring it crashing down into the real world by converting your platonic romance into a physical relationship…?

Read on – Dear Reader – I have delved deep into my creative writing archives and pulled out this story for you to read and enjoy…

PLATONIC LOVEMAKING – A Love Story by Vikram Karve

I love making love on a Sunday morning. 

I make love to a beautiful woman on Sunday morning – yes – I make love to her with my eyes.

Here is how we make love.

Tell me – what does a beautiful woman do – when a handsome young man like me – looks at her in an insistent, lingering sort of way – which is worth a hundred compliments? 

I will tell you what she does.

First – she realizes that I am looking at her.

Then – she accepts being looked at by me.

Finally – she begins to look at me in return.

  

Suddenly – her eyes become hard.

Then – she grills me with a stern stare that makes me uncomfortable.

    

Scared and discomfited – I quickly avert my eyes – and try to disappear into the crowd. 

I feel ashamed at having eyed her so blatantly.

“What will she think of me?” I wonder. 

But soon – by instinct – and almost against my will – my eyes begin searching – trying to find her again.

Ah – there she is. 

She stands at the fruit-stall – buying fruit.

She is an exquisite beauty – tall, fair and freshly bathed – her luxuriant black hair flows down her back – her sharp features accentuated by the morning sun – her nose slightly turned up – so slender and transparent – as though accustomed to smelling nothing but perfumes.

I am mesmerized.

Never before has anyone evoked such a delightful tremor of thrilling sensation in me.

An unknown force propels me towards the fruit-stall. 

I stand near her – and I make pretence of choosing a papaya – trying to look at her with sidelong glances – when I think she isn’t noticing – hoping that she wouldn’t notice me looking at her.

But – she notices.

She looks at me.

Her eyes are extremely beautiful – enormous, dark, expressive.

Suddenly – her eyes began to dance.

Seeing the genuine admiration in my eyes – she gives me a smile so captivating – that I experience a delightful twinge in my heart.

She selects a papaya – and she extends her hands to give it to me.

Our fingers touch.

The feeling is electric. 

It is sheer ecstasy. 

I feel so good that I wish time would stand still.

I cannot begin to describe the lovely sensation I feel deep inside me.

I try to smile.

She communicates an unspoken goodbye with her eyes.

Then – she briskly walks away.

Three months have passed. 

She has never misses her Sunday morning love date with me – same time – same place – every Sunday – at precisely 7 o’clock in the morning.

But – My Dear Reader – do you know that not a word has been exchanged between us.

We just make love every Sunday morning using the language of our eyes.

Then – we part with an unspoken goodbye.

Once – I was slightly late for our rendezvous.

I could see her eyes desperately searching for me.

And when her eyes found me – her eyes danced with delight – and her eyes began making love to my eyes.

Tell me – is there any lovemaking that can surpass our fascinating alluring lovemaking...?

It feels like the supreme bliss of non-alcoholic intoxication.

Should I speak to her...?

I do not know.

Why doesn’t she speak to me...?

I do not know.

Does one have to speak to express love? 

Are words from the mouth the only way to communicate love...?

Maybe – we both want our beautiful romance to remain this way.

Our silent love making with our eyes – so lovely – so esoteric – so exquisite – so pristine – so platonic – so divine – so fragile – so delicate – so sensitive – so delicately poised.

Just one word would spoil everything.

Yes – just one word would destroy our enthralling state of trance-like bliss – and bring everything crashing down from supreme ecstasy to harsh ground reality.

I think it is best to let our exquisite Sunday morning lovemaking go on for ever and ever – till eternity.

What do you feel – Dear Reader?

How long should we go making love like this?

Tell me – should I make a move...?

Should I talk to her – and break the lovely spell...?

Tell me – My Dear Reader:

Should I talk to her and express my love – or is it best to remain silent – and let our beautiful platonic lovemaking bloom to glory in ethereal silence?

I will do exactly as you say.

Till then – I will make platonic love to the beautiful woman every Sunday morning – yes – I will make love to her with my eyes.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

I wrote this story 29 years ago, in the year 1990, and I have posted it online earlier in my creative writing blogs at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2010/10/making-love-to-beautiful-woman-on.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/09/should-i-tell-her.html  and  http://creative.sulekha.com/pure-romance-should-i-tell-her_471322_blog  and http://karvediat.blogspot.com/2014/11/lovemaking-on-sunday-morning.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.com/2015/07/platonic-lovemaking.html and https://karve.wordpress.com/2015/07/17/how-to-make-platonic-love/ etc

Wet Dream

WET DREAM
It Happened One Night 
Short Fiction - A Passionate Love Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives:

One of my earliest pieces of short fiction. 

A very short adult love story I wrote 25 years ago, in the 1990’s. 

This story is for adults only. 

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT 

The terrifying nightmare grew.

It was just one revolving pattern of flames with inhuman sounds screaming at him from all sides. 

He tried to use his limbs – but nothing happened. 

He looked down at his legs – and he saw that the left one was hanging like a piece of bloody sack. 

He felt the searing crash of metal into his body. 

And then – he heard himself screaming in frenzy – as the blaze engulfed him – and pulverized his entire body.

There was another voice now – a different voice.

He sat up violently in the pitch darkness – fighting the blanket.

As he recovered his wits – he realized that the door was partly open. 

He could see a pale figure in the light from the corridor.

“Are you okay...?” she asked. 

He did not say anything.

She entered the room – she walked towards him – and she said: 

“I’m sorry – but you were screaming.”

Trying to steady his breathing – he said to her: 

“Bit of a bad dream – that’s all.”

She sat down on the bed and said: 

“I was shaken scared by your terrifying scream. It must have been a terrible dream.”

“Yes...” he said – and he ran his hand over his wet face.

She reached out and touched his shoulder:

“Lie back now. Try to relax. I will go now – and let you sleep.”

He looked up at her and pleaded: 

“Don’t go. Please don’t go…”

He took her hand – and he pressed her palm gently.

At first – there was no answering pressure.

Then – she pressed back.

She touched his hair with her other hand.

He could feel the want churning inside him like fire.

He moved his hand and touched her skin.

“No...” she said quietly, “We’d better stop now.”

He pulled her gently beside him – feeling the yearning like a physical pain.

She did not resist.

Then all at once – she was helping him.

They made love.

They made love – first with tenderness – then gradually building up into a passionate frenzy – as they both become rough and hard – demanding more of each other – till they lay exhausted – their limbs still entangled.

He lay in bed in self-commiseration – wondering why it had happened.

His train of thoughts spiralled into an abyss – as he thought about his agonizing loneliness – his frightening, corrosive, desolate life – the terrifying nightmare – the frenzied act.

Was it an impulsive reckless act of love...? 

Or – was it wild rage...? 

Or – was it a desperate act of expiration...?

Or – was it a wet dream...?

The whole thing suddenly seemed sordid.

He turned towards her and started to say: 

“I am sorry...”

She instantly put her hand on his mouth – and she said to him: 

“Please don’t say it. What happened – it just happened. It was destined to happen. ”

He closed his eyes and lay still.

When he opened his eyes – he saw her standing near the door.

“It was good of you to come...” he said.

“Yes...” she said.

She quietly stepped out of the room – she closed the door – and – she walked out of his life forever. 

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Abridged, Updated and Revised Version of My Story THE NIGHTMARE posted by me Vikram Karve online earlier a number of times in my various Blogs including at urls: http://vikramwamankarve.blogspot.in/2009/09/nightmare-flash-fiction-horror-story.html and https://vikramwkarve.wordpress.com/2010/04/13/one-night-stand-it-just-happened/  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/01/frenzy.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/03/bad-dream.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/06/love-dream.html etc 

The Deadly “One-Night Stand”

THE DEADLY “ONE-NIGHT STAND”

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From My Creative Writing Archives:

One of my earliest short stories – “Conscience” – passionate romance – story of sleazy ‘one-night stand’...

I wrote this story 22 years ago – in 1995 – on paper – when there was no internet – so – I have revised, updated and abridged the story – to make it suitable for reading on the digital screen.

Dear Reader – Do tell me if you like it...

THE DEADLY ONE-NIGHT STAND – short story by Vikram Karve 

Part 1 – ONE NIGHT STAND

I waited in anticipation.

I was overcome by tremors of trepidation. 

I felt shivers of fear go up my spine.

I secretly hoped that he would not come.

But – he did come.

He arrived right on the dot.

Sharp 10 o’clock at night.

It was exactly as planned.

He said nothing when he entered.

The moment I recognized him – I started to tremble.

But – he did not seem to notice.

He turned around – as if he had forgotten something.

Then he took two quick steps – and he bolted the door.

Hoping to conceal my emotion – I began to talk – talking also helped me gain my composure.

I said to him: 

“Please be seated, Sir. Would you like a drink...?”

“Whisky and Soda...” he said.

He loosened the knot of his tie as he moved towards the sofa.

He sat down – and he gave me an appraising look.

I took my time getting up from my chair – taking care to make my movements deliberately slow – in order to hide my fear and nervousness.

I walked towards the fridge.

My back was turned in his direction – but still I could feel his eyes piercing me.

Soda, glass, opener, ice-bucket and a bowl of peanuts ready on a tray – I opened the liquor-cabinet.

At first my hands instinctively touched a bottle of cheap whisky – but then – I hesitatingly picked out a bottle of the best premium whisky.

After all – this was a first-class client.

And maybe – this would be his last drink.

Let him enjoy it.

I carefully set the loaded tray on the table in front of him – and I sat down on the chair across.

I poured him a stiff drink – and I opened the bottle of soda.

“Put lots of ice...” he said, in a commanding voice.

And then – as an afterthought – he added: 

“What about you...?”

“No...” I said, handing him the glass, “I don’t drink on duty.”

“Duty…? Ha Ha – “Duty” – I like your sense of humor...” he laughed. 

Then – he looked me in the eye.

He took a sip of the whisky and closed his eyes with a gesture of fatigue – as if waiting for the whisky to caress his brain.

His was not an unpleasant face.

In fact – he looked quite handsome.

“Without any effort – I could go straight to sleep...” he said – with his eyes still closed.

Then – suddenly he opened his eyes – looked directly at me – and with a mischievous smile – he said to me: 

“Ah – but there is plenty to do tonight – isn’t it...?”

“Yes indeed…!!!” I said to myself, “there was plenty to do tonight.”

In my imagination – I tried to visualize how I was going to do it.

The man shifted on his seat – he took out a wallet from his hip pocket.

He stylishly extracted 5 crisp pink coloured 2000 rupee notes – and he put the 10,000 Rupees on the table in front of me.

I did not pick up the money.

“It’s okay...” I said, “There is no need for you to pay me. The “treat” is “on-the-house”...”

“Who said so...?” he snapped an angrily.

“The person who sent me here...” I answered.

“What else did he say...?”

“He told me that you are a very special guest.”

“And...?” he asked.

“He said that I should be very discreet – and that I should not even breathe a word about you to anyone.”

“And will you…?” he asked.

I paused – and then I said to him: 

“It’s okay. You can trust me.”

The man smiled – and then he said: 

“Take the money. I always pay for everything. I am a man of principles.”

Suddenly – I could feel the venom rising inside me.

Ha Ha – a “man of principles”…?

My Foot…!!!

Hypocrite…!!!

That’s what he was.

A Bloody Hypocrite…

Where were his “principles” when he had killed my husband...? 

Where were his “principles” when he concocted lies and told everyone that it was a gruesome accident...?

Where were his “principles” when he quickly disposed off my husband’s body at sea – into the Davy Jones’s Locker – buried into the deep at the bottom of the sea...?

Murderer…

Bloody Murderer…

That’s what he was.

An unscrupulous mendacious murderer…

And tonight – he was going to pay for it.

Everything was in my favour.

I had recognized him.

I knew who he was – but he did not know who I was.

For him – I was just a nameless face – a “one-night stand”.

Yes – for him I was just a “one-night stand” – to be used, discarded and forgotten.

Though he could not possibly realize it – it was he who had reduced me to this.

And now – he had unknowingly walked right into my hands.

“Is it enough...?” he asked, pointing to the money on the table.

“My normal rate is 50,000 – and some happy clients sometimes pay me even more than a Lakh for a night…” I said.

I wanted to embarrass him – for I had glimpsed into his wallet when he took out the money.

I picked up the 10,000 rupees from the table – tucked them in my blouse – and I said to him: 

“But then – after all – you are a special guest – so I will give you a discount – as I told you earlier – the “treat” is on the house – so I will consider this as a “tip” – and even if you did not pay – it was okay...”

He smiled – looking intently into my eyes for a few seconds.

Then he gulped down his drink – he got up from the sofa – and he came around the table and stood behind me.

I sat still – waiting for his next move.

He put his hands on my shoulders – and he said matter-of-factly to me: 

“Let’s go to bed...” 

And so – we went to bed – for a “one-night stand”.

Part 2 – DEADLY DATE

When I woke up – for a moment – I could not imagine where I was.

The silence was so intense – that I could hear my heart beating.

The room was not quite dark.

The door of the bathroom was partly open – and I had left the bathroom light on.

As I turned – I saw him lying beside me.

I felt a sudden flush of passion.

It was after a long time that I had made love to a man.

I had really enjoyed it.

I yearned for some more.

But – I quickly controlled my feelings – and I carefully observed the sleeping man.

He breathed steadily – like a man immersed in deep sleep – fully satiated.

But I had to be sure.

“Hello...” I whispered near his ear.

No answer.

He was dead to the world.

Very slowly – very silently – I slipped out of my bed.

I carefully bent down near the bedside table.

I unplugged the two-pin electric plug from the socket on the wall.

Then – I carefully coiled the wires around the base of the table-lamp.

I picked up the table-lamp in both hands holding the plug carefully.

I stood for a while – looking at the man to see whether I had disturbed him.

His breathing was as regular as before.

I took a couple of tip-toe steps and halted – took a few steps more and waited – and so on – till I reached the bathroom door.

Then I quickly went inside – and I locked the door.

I yanked out the wires from the table-lamp.

Then – with my teeth – I removed the plastic cladding from the open ends – exposing at least two inches of naked copper on both the wires.

I smiled to myself.

In my hands, was a weapon of death – a set of coiled wires – one red and one black – long enough – a two-pin plug at one end – and the other end was exposed – naked.

I retraced my steps – tiptoed – leaving the bathroom light on – and the door a bit ajar – so that I could just about see slightly.

I put the plug in the socket.

Then I uncoiled the wires – carefully holding one wire in each hand – a few inches away from the naked exposed copper – my hands apart.

I switched on the electric switch with my left toe.

Then – I got on the bed – and I slowly advanced on my knees towards the sleeping figure.

The man was lying on his back – sleeping soundly.

He seemed dead to the world.

Soon – he would actually be dead.

I decided to aim for his eyes.

Simply thrust one live electric wire into each eye.

Hopefully – death would be instantaneous.

The electric current would flow through his brain and kill him on the spot.

Even if death wasn’t instantaneous – at least he would be knocked unconscious – and blinded – and then – I could take my own time to finish him off by shoving the live wires deep into his eyes till his brain got roasted.

I steadied myself – and I moved my hands slowly.

The live wires had almost touched his eyes – when some invisible force seemed to have grabbed my wrists.

I froze.

I felt a turbulence of conscience.

It was as if there were two brains inside me.

One brain pulled my hands back and one inner voice said: “I don’t want to be a murderess. What do I gain...? If I kill him – then what is the difference between him and me? What about his family...? Why should I make them suffer for no fault of theirs? And maybe – what he officially said was indeed true – that it was just an accident – like he had reported…”

The other brain desperately urged me to kill him and pushed my hands forward – and – the other inner voice said: “Revenge! Vengeance! He deserves it…”

“An eye for an eye – a tooth for a tooth – do it now – kill him – quickly – fast…” I said to myself.

And slowly – my hands started moving forward.

Suddenly – the man started turning.

I panicked.

In my panic – as a sudden reflex action – I instantly pulled my hands back.

In the confusion – the live naked electric wires touched.

There were sparks of electricity.

And then – there was total darkness.

Short Circuit - the fuse had blown.

My blood ran cold.

It was pitch dark – and I felt scared – very frightened.

There was no movement from the man.

Instinctively – I guessed that the man had turned over on his side – his back towards me.

I tiptoed to the bathroom – retrieved the table-lamp – kept it on the bedside table – and tucked the wires underneath.

Then I lay down on my bed – as if nothing had happened.

The centralized air-conditioning was still on – but the bathroom light had gone off.

It seemed that only the local 5 Ampere light fuse had blown – but I did not know where it was.

I had muffed up a golden chance.

The man was lucky to be alive.

It was his sheer luck!

But – I knew that I would have to try to kill him when I got an opportunity. 

I would have to create that opportunity – and kill him.

I would have to keep trying – again and again – to kill him – for he did not deserve to live.

Maybe – I could try some other technique of murder.

And with these thoughts – I drifted off to sleep. 

Part 3 – EPIPHANY

When I woke up in the morning – I saw that the man was still fast asleep.

Dawn had broken.

I opened the window – and let the sunlight in.

“Who’s that...?” he asked – startled – adjusting his eyes to the sunlight.

“It is time for you to leave. You must go away now...” I said.

I walked towards the sofa – picked up his clothes – and threw them to him.

He dressed hurriedly.

Then – he quickly walked to the connecting door between our rooms.

He opened the door.

At the door – he paused for a moment.

He turned towards me – and he said to me: 

“Good Bye, Mrs. Morris. They told me that you would kill me. I came to find out. But – killing isn’t easy. Yes – killing is not easy. You can take my word for it...”

With these words – he left my room – silently closing the door.

I sat in dumbstruck silence – a deathly grotesque deafening silence.

I never saw him again.

I never want to see him again.

In my entire life – I have never felt so scared – so frightened – the dreadful fear I felt at that moment.

Even today – when I think of that horrific “one-night stand” – a shiver of fear goes up my spine – a deadly electric quiver vibrates throughout my whole body – and – I resonate with a terrible indescribable fear.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

This is a revised version my my story CONSCIENCE written by me 22 years ago in 1995 and earlier posted online by me Vikram Karve under various titles by me Vikram Karve many times earlier in my blogs including at urls: http://creative.sulekha.com/conscience-a-short-story-by-vikram-karve_30391_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/08/my-favourite-short-stories-part-25-good.htmand http://creative.sulekha.com/good-bye-mrs-morris-a-passionate-story_507907_blog and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/05/passionate-one-night-stand-deadly-date.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/10/a-deadly-date-story-of-passionate-one.html etc