My name is Nasir. I am from Pakistan (Karachi). I am 35 while my wife Zeenat is 37. Though it is against the taboo in my country to marry women older than you, but I have always been unorthodox in terms of my values. Ours was a love marriage and we have been happily married for 7 years, with a son who is now 5. The story I’m about to narrate is an experience we had almost a year ago, and it may not be very exciting for those used to the kind of hard core
Pornographic fantasies that appear on this forum, but it will hopefully appeal to those who go for the finer, softer side of eroticism. I have been desperate to share it with someone ever since it happened, and as I could not find anyone broad-minded enough in my own social circle that I could trust with this kind of thing, so I thought sharing it with an anonymous audience would be a good idea. Also, I didn’t think it would appeal to a western audience, so Human Digest
Seems like the ideal forum for me to address the Desi readers. I am a Marketing Research Executive by profession, working for a well-known Research Firm. My wife, Zeenat (whom I call Zee, her nickname) is currently working as a school teacher, but when she was in her twenties, she used to do fashion modeling for magazines, part time. Both of us are quite liberal in our outlook towards life and have always had a good, satisfying sex life. Long before getting married when I was about 14
I found a book titled “Sex Life Letters” in my elder brother’s collection. I found the real sex life experiences given there highly exciting, but none the more so than a letter by a woman who wrote that her husband would bring home an office colleague (male) to their house, and under a pre-planned arrangement, she would appear before the guest in her bathing robe acting as if she was about to take a shower. After some casual chit chat she would excuse herself and the husband would ask the guest if he would like some fun.
The guest would ask what he meant, on which he would take the guest outside the bathroom where the wife would be busy in her shower, and invite him to take a look through a peep hole. Thus, the guest would have a great time for the next 10 minutes or so, getting a great view of the wife in the nude from all angles as she would sponge and rinse every part of her body, apparently unaware that she was being watched. As she started dressing the guest would be taken back to the living room,
Where she would appear a few minutes later, coffee and cookies in hand, acting as if she had no idea she was being ogled at in the nude just minutes ago. It was fun (she wrote) seeing the guest trying to act normal while feeling highly aroused in her company, and as soon as he left, they would make wild love imagining what had just taken place. This particular story, for some reason, had a profound impact on my sexual development, and a majority of my fantasies later in life, were a variation of the same theme.
This desire became all the more pronounced soon after I got married though of course, I dared not discuss it with my wife openly. However, I expressed it in other, more subtle ways like encouraging her to wear sleeveless shirts made of thin fabric that showed her figure well, daringly low necklines and trouser-like pajamas that ended just above the ankle with a slit on the sides so that as she would sit down, one leg over the other, it would show her legs almost up to the knee. This was as far as she could go in Pakistan,
Apart from wearing, at times, t-shirts with very tight, hip-hugging jeans highlighting her beautiful butt. I think Zee, too, always had a latent exhibitionist desire in her, kept subdued by cultural restrictions. After all, she had been a model, who loved to present her beauty before the camera. After our marriage, Zee had on a few occasions expressed her wish to start her modeling career again, but she felt that she was over-age now for a fashion model and it was difficult
To get a break again in competition with younger models. Although she has kept herself beautifully in shape, yet I knew she was right. No one really wants a 37 year old mother as a fashion model, no matter how pretty. Still, being in marketing research, I come across people from advertising agencies and the media, and I kept an eye open for any possible opportunity for Zee. It so happened that I was sitting in the office of Ejaz, who runs an advertising agency.
I am quite friendly with Ejaz and had, once, casually mentioned to him that if he ever needed a female model, there was someone I knew. That day, both of us sipping tea, Ejaz suddenly dropped a surprise. He asked me if I was still in contact with that female model I mentioned once. I immediately said I was. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he asked me if she was a bold girl. “What do you mean?” I asked “Well” he smiled and said, “Is she bold enough to become a lingerie model?”
My heart almost skipped a beat. Trying to keep a straight face, I said it depends, but would he elaborate a bit more. To cut it short, what he said amounted to this: there was a woman who was running her own business of lingerie and ladies undergarments. She would “import” lingerie thru her “connections” in Customs (which meant bringing back bags full of the stuff from Thailand) and sell it here at a premium price, in Karachi, from an outlet situated inside her own home.
Imported lingerie being in high demand amongst ladies in the posh, high-income segments, she had been doing reasonably well, and now wanted to publish a small brochure, for which she needed a female model. Ejaz added that her products were sold only at her own outlet and the brochure, too, would only be seen by an exclusive lot, consisting almost solely of women. “So, as such” he continued “there is little chance of the girl being recognized or seen around the city,
If that be a consideration for her. Of course, the photographs will be taken by a male, as there is practically no woman photographer of any standing in Pakistan. In fact, it is thru a photographer, a young man named Timore that I got to know of the offer” he concluded. My mouth was dry by that time. Running my tongue on my lips and trying to act un-interested, I told him I’ll talk to the girl but warned that she wasn’t as young as he might expect a model to be. “Doesn’t matter” he said “as long as she has a good figure and a presentable face.”
“One question” I said “why not goes for a professional model?” “They are much too afraid of taking up an assignment like this” he replied. “Have you ever seen a well-known model appearing in an ad for undergarments in Pakistan? It would destroy their reputation and if one does agree to do it, she would charge twice or thrice the amount she normally charges. This is small business we are talking about, not Victoria’s Secrets. It’s a Rs 20,000 job for the girl, take it or leave it.
The only other option” he continued “is to go for a prostitute, something no respectable person would like to do, given the fact that one would have to deal with pimps and police as well.”
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