"Are you sure this flower is for me? Who sent it?" Sanyukta had a quizzical look on her face as she stared at the single long-stemmed rose that an admirer had sent her into the green room through someone. She emerged after changing into her street clothes  and found it waiting for her. "The guy did not leave a name. Looks like you have an anonymous fan in the audience tonight!" A young singer smiled at her good-naturedly. Sanyukta said goodbye to the company she was with before grabbing her bag and stepped out through the exit door, the rose delicately balanced between her fingers. Unlike other cultivars which were odourless this one had a subtle fragrance, and yet she winced as she was pricked by a thorn due to her carelessness while she walked distractedly. She wondered where Randhir was waiting for her! 

"Would the young lady mind if I accompanied her home!" A rich baritone voice sounded from behind her before its owner stepped out of the shadow into the light. "A single long stemmed red rose, huh? Must be from a romantic at heart!" He remarked, just as she ran into his waiting arms. "Te amo!" He  whispered, running his fingers through her hair. "Te amo con mi vida, mi amor!" She muttered, as her lips caressed him till his lips closed over hers, kissing her gently at first and then building up to a crescendo. It was true, she loved him with all her life, and had done so ever since she was a little girl. "Thank you for the rose! Don't even try to deny it, I know you sent it, no one else knows me here!" She said happily. "We are hogging the doorway, let's get out of here, and get us some nosh!" He smiled as he took her hand and led her outside. 

"We can eat somewhere nearby if you are hungry!" He suggested a couple of places in the neighbourhood. "No Randhir, let us head home, I'll reheat something!" She nudged her husband, making him break into a smile once more. "Someone's quite eager to head home!" He laughed. "You actually bought a ticket and did not even tell me that you'd be in the audience? I could have gotten you a free pass!" She leaned against him as the cab took them homeward. "The concert was for a good cause, how could I not contribute my bit?" He wanted to confess that he was trying to compensate for having passed on several opportunities to hear her sing in concert while in Mumbai. Music had brought them close and had bound them together till they became soulmates. He could never forget the husky voice that had set his imagination on fire after the first time they had performed together. How would he know then that it had called out to him, trying to convey her feelings for him and unwittingly he had fallen for her hook, line and sinker!

As soon as they got home she found a dainty little bud vase to place the rose next to their bedside table. They showered quickly and she heated a pre-cooked meal of whole masoor lentils and steamed rice in a single bowl, with a hint of tangy lime pickle. When they were in the mood for this sort of a thing they sat down on a shaggy rug near the french windows in their bedroom, feeding each other morsels as they took in the night view. It was a light meal just meant to satiate their hunger without making them drowsy too quickly. They rounded it off with a bit of cheese, fruit and port wine. The higher alcohol content in the wine and its sweet, luscious taste made the lovers crave for each other more. He lit a couple of scented votive candles and carried her to bed, slipping a silk tie over her eyes before scattering her clothes. He then left her for a few moments, letting her wonder what he was up to.

As he returned he whispered something to her and her body tensed in eager anticipation. The next moment a delicious sensation crawled over her bare skin, with him pausing timely for greater effect. "Fur?" She asked, guessing correctly. "Faux fur, although the real thing would feel much better!" He grinned to think of how much she would dislike the idea of the pelt of an animal being used to stroke her bare skin. Then again, he had enough experience with her in bed to know where she was at her most sensitive, and she felt bliss as the mitt kissed her in all the right places, giving her goosebumps and quickening her breath. "Randhir, please baby!" She moaned throatily as he continued to teased her, leading her on one minute and pulling back just the next as the mitt caressed her firm bosom till the tips were dark and taut, awaiting his expert mouth to send her into ecstasy. "Taste me now!" She commanded, crawling into his lap and straddling him, locking her legs behind his back and arching back her neck to offer him his prize.

His fingertips lightly grazed her firm nubs before he leaned forward and let his tongue explore them, closing his mouth over the tip to suck the unseen nectar. His fingers played with one breast as he continued to pleasure the other. Fully aroused she pushed him down till he lay on his back on the bed and straddled him in the soixante-neuf position, enthusiastically inching her mouth toward his stiffness as she offered him the taste of her own heaven, groaning as she felt his tongue lap her between her legs in long enthusiastic strokes. While she reciprocated with as much enthusiasm, when she convulsed to a finish her mouth slackened its hold over his manhood. Unheeded he continued tasting her till she could wait no longer, then he rode her firm derriere, with his strokes increasing their tempo even as he thrust into her, rubbing continuously between her legs till they climaxed together, going limp and clinging to each other until their breathing steadied. 

A brief rest and he was good to go again. He let her bounce on top of him till she made him sit up once more with their mutual thrusts lasting longer this time till they found a seismic closure once more. Afterwards they lay in bed spent, spooning each other, indulging in sweet pillow talk. "Why don't you consider becoming a professional singer?" He asked her casually. "As Yasmeen I was once tempted to, because of the anonymity I enjoyed. But on a serious note I am neither that talented not am I willing to make any compromises to go professional." She replied simply. "What do you mean?" He quizzed her. "It is like the rose you gave me, it is beautiful, but when I got careless a tiny thorn managed to hurt me as it cut through my skin. If an artist is lucky she becomes popular but fame brings unwarranted issues such as erratic schedules. One needs to travel constantly. Fame and money often go to your head and change you as a person."

" Most successful artists live terrible personal lives- indulging in or having to deal with infidelity. Their need for privacy is often misinterpreted as arrogance. There is jealousy and intense rivalry, a singer will manipulate to get an edge over another. I'd rather have a simple unsung life that revolves around a manageable career and a happy family. I want to spend time with you, Aman and our other kids. I don't want our equation to change or any upheavals to be caused in our relationship on account of my work." She did not add that his mother would thoroughly disapprove of her singing. Reiterating the obvious would make no difference. "All I am saying is don't stifle your desires to help build us a normal home. I don't want you to leave your potential unexplored. Indulge your choice if you must, I will not stand in your way." He added. They fell asleep in a while, and she had a smile on her face when her eyes opened the next morning, thinking how lucky she really was to have such an understanding life partner!