Ram. Sita. Manohar.

This is a three part series, read the second part and the third part as well, the order isn't paramount.


Ram

Ram was extremely satisfied with his performance today, he had lasted exactly seven strokes and it was way better than his career best four, exactly three months ago. He made a silent prayer thanking the ancient art of Yoga, which he considered to be solely responsible for this unprecedented improvement in such a short span of time.

With a proud grin on his face, he looked on his side to see Sita's reaction. Initially confused by what he saw, it occurred to him only later that perhaps she didn't count properly today. But it was impossible to miss such a grand number, there had to be something else.

'So what do you think?', he asked, the grin intact on his face still, despite her obvious disinterest in his personal milestone. Sita was silent, her mind was preoccupied with many other thoughts. But contrary to what Ram thought, Sita had counted every single of his stroke, though she could hardly even feel her tiny husband move inside her. And it was only after he moved away from her that she stopped counting, and so her score for him was an even mightier nine.

'We need to talk, Ram', she replied. He knew right then exactly what the matter was, though she spent the next couple of hours explaining it all to him. He was surprised to know that the culprit was Manoharlal, his Yoga teacher who had been teaching him the various techniques of self restraint and performance improvement for the past six months. Manohar, as Sita often fondly called him, was also Sita's wrestling instructor and her best friend in the whole world. It was Sita one who had asked Ram to go and meet Manohar, who was already famed for his excellence in the ancient art of Yoga and helping the men in need. This was after Ram's consistent failure to engage her in any meaningful coitus, apart from simply soiling her saree every time he came close to her.

But things changed quickly after Sita's confession. Ram quietly took his crumpled langot and walked naked out of the room. There was, however, a sly grin on his face. Seven was still a big number for him and he felt ready to take on the world and floor/ bed all the members of the fairer sex. He thanked Manoharlal once again as the mist of the night outside enveloped him completely.