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From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 04 Jan 2003 10:21:45 -0600
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Subject: {ASSM} My Story (Part 5)
Date: Sat, 4 Jan 2003 21:10:19 -0500
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Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com
<1st attachment, "MS05.TXT" begin>
I have received some letters wondering about my reluctance in
elaborating upon certain social paradigms. I deliberately
refrained from such explanations hoping that the unspoken would
add to the exotic. I am not sure if even now I want to explain
such things as "kinships" and "customs of intimacy". May be those
that are left wondering would find it worth their while to
discover more about my beloved country (which has a lot to offer
besides "smuts") by themselves. However, I am not totally opposed
to the idea. Given enough interest among the readers, I may
venture into the task of familiarizing my readers with the
relevant Indian (specifically Bengali) socio-cultural aspects.
Till then, enjoy My Story as it is narrated. Please feel free to
write back with any corrections in my language and/or comments
that you may find appropriate.
USUAL DISCLAIMER: Those that are offended by sex, are disturbed by
images of humans enjoying sex and those that fear blindness (or
excessive acne) are advised not to read past this disclaimer.
People not belonging to the "Mature" category of beings (18 years
or younger, where applicable) are PROHIBITED beyond this point.
My Story (part 5) by Sharmila Sanyal
Debi was awake before I was. She had already had a sumptuous
breakfast ready when she woke me up with a sensuous kiss. She is
usually slightly horny when she wakes up in the morning. I haven't
ever felt particularly amorous before I have had a chance to
brush, shower and answer Nature's call (not essentially in that
order). Even in the coldest of mornings, I have to have a shower
before I am fully myself. Debi was caressing my breasts and
kissing me on my lips. I pushed her away . . .
"Debi . . . don't . . . let me . . ." I said with some urgency.
Debi put her arms around me and, bringing her mouth to my
earlobes, whispered sensually, "You look and smell sexy when you
wake up." Of course, till this day I do not believe that.
"Whatever . . . I have to freshen up . . ." I said, planting a
light kiss on her cheek.
Debi had prepared two huge omlettes and we had them with
toasts. We were re-energized for another amorous day. My cousin
was excited that we were going out for a movie that afternoon with
Ajit. Indian parents rarely allowed too much public display of
relationships with boyfriends. So, going out with Ajit used to be
rather restricted for Debi too. Going to movies happened once a
month. I suppose, Debi was also pleased that I was going with them
(no matter how strange that might seem to some).
We took the morning very easy. We went out for a little
while and were back by about ten, before it got too hot outside.
Once back home, Debi and I shut all the windows to keep the heat
out. This is almost a ritual in Calcutta during the summer days.
The shade inside made it cool; and I started feeling the usual
stir between my legs. We stayed downstairs and in the living room.
We took off all our clothes and lay on the floor slowly caressing
one another. I got on top of Debi and, with my legs, I parted her
thighs. Our tongues playing with each other, the doors to the
caves between our legs were slowly opening wider. The passages
were coming alive and, with each gentle thrust of our pelvis,
getting more lubricated.
Debi shifted under me and pulled one knee up so that our
cunts were now making full contact with each other's upper thighs.
I could feel her wet lips there and my own inside throbbed. She
grabbed my buttocks and pulled me tighter against her. We rocked
together, our breasts almost flat against the other's, our nipples
getting harder. We rocked, and rocked, and rocked . . . taking it
easy and enjoying each other through every pore of our bodies. The
ceiling fan kept moaning above us, as if egging us on to reach our
climax . . .
We finished it off by going into a sixty-nine. And we lay
there, with our heads resting comfortably on each other's inner
thighs. Although I came blissfully, Debi's odor made me stay at
the height of my excitement even longer. I tried to lick her
again, but she was too sensitive there and begged me to stop. My
god, it was hard for me to give up that urge to lap up her tasty
juice. I remained in that suspended state of excitement and
decided to make the night wild.
We reached the cinema about fifteen minutes before the show
was scheduled to start and I was a little surprised to find a lot
more than the usual number of people waiting to get in. Usually
the artsy foreign films do not attract too many patrons.
Ajit was waiting for us at the entrance to the lobby. He was
wearing pajamas and a dark-colored panjabi (Kurta, in Hindi). He
was his usual handsome self. I felt a tightening in the area just
above my pubis. A radiant smile broke out on Debi's face and she
looked even more beautiful. 'They are perfect for each other,' I
thought to myself. We were both wearing saris. Sari made me look
rather mature. As Debi walked quickly up to him, I remained a few
paces behind. As I was passing a group of young boys, I could hear
them inhale. One let out a muted whistle.
We bought some fresh roasted peanuts and three bottles of
ThumsUp before entering the lobby. I had been there before with
Debi. The inside of the old theater was fairly big, with about
seven hundred seats arranged in three columns.
A group of four guys in their early twenties and a lightly
made-up beautiful woman in a rather strikingly plain Salwaar
Kammez brushed past us at the entrance to the auditorium. She
looked at me and smiled, somewhat stunning me with her perfect set
of teeth. I wondered for a while and then remembered having seen
her in a few movies. Debi confirmed and added that she lived in
the neighborhood. The 'Star' will remain unnamed, since she is now
quite famous on the silver screen.
We had our seats in the last row of the balcony. I
commented on the price of the tickets, and Ajit said reassuringly,
"Don't worry about it; a friend of mine managed to get these for
half the price."
I looked around and found very few sitting in the balcony.
The balcony tickets are expensive and not many want to pay the
premium. There were two guys in their late teens sitting in front
of us, one seat over to my left. A daintily dressed couple sat a
few seats down to my left in our row, which was right beside the
short wall that defined the entrance. Ajit took the aisle seat
with Debi on his left; and I sat beside Debi.
I still remember the name of the film. It was by Zoltan
Fabri, titled "The Peddler". Pretty soon it was apparent why the
crowd was thicker than usual at the cinema. Indian film-goers
rarely saw such open sex in films! And this one had more than a
few of those with frontal shots. So, when the first 'hot' scene
came up, the shuffling noises inside the hall were hardly
unexpected. Shocking? Maybe, but unexpected it was not.
The lead guy, a burly cop (?) in his forties, was being
given a fantastic blow job by the hooker whom he was supposed to
be booking. As her head bobbed up and down on his lap, she had her
shapely breasts out for him to fondle (and for the entranced
spectators to see). Perfectly round and taut -- and capable of
making any woman envious -- they were by no means ordinary. I am
not sure if implants were as commonplace then, but people wonder
these days about similar perfections. Such skepticism aside, I
have the privilege of knowing women with attributes that rival any
augmentation. As I recollect, this person of presumable ill-repute
did not lack the necessary appeal otherwise. As just her face
filled the screen, sounds of collective inhalation and low
whistling inside the cinema testified to that.
Indian boys are known to jack off watching scantily clad
heroines and vamps doing suggestive dance numbers in those wildly
popular Bollywood films. So, in anticipation, I looked at the two
boys sitting in front of us, my own juices having started to flow.
The boy on the right looked around furtively. He adjusted on his
seat and leaned slightly left. His left shoulder moved and, after
some more movement from the other boy, settled into a slow and
regular undulating motion. I had never been witness to
masturbation by the other sex, but I did not find it hard to
imagine what they might be doing or trying to do. My musings made
the situation - between my legs - worse.
Without being too obvious I looked to my right; I saw both
Debi and Ajit staring straight ahead. Debi had that familiar look
in her face. I wondered what they would have been up to had I not
been sitting next to them. Suddenly I felt like the proverbial
'fifth wheel'. My own arousal notwithstanding, I started feeling
rather lousy . . . and a bit resentful of those two beside me!
I looked in the other direction. The couple sitting to my
left were hunched towards each other. They were kissing! I could
not help but stare. I saw the woman's hand moving in his lap in a
deliberate up and down motion.
I looked away and at the screen. The screen was filled with
the man's face, contorted in pleasure. His fast, heavy breathing
and the "Ah's", mixed with the slurping sound of his cock being
sucked on were heard through the speakers around us; and pretty
soon he came. So did a few others in that hall, I am sure. The two
boys in my front had been going at it quite gently; and they
stopped, each leaving his hand on the other's lap. I squeezed my
thighs tightly as little doubt remained about what they were
doing!
Debi's breathing was audible and I wished I could pleasure
her sitting right there. I took my left hand to my waist and
inserted it from there and under my sari. I found the elastic of
my panties and my hand found its way under it. I was soaked there.
Lightly I touched myself, hoping that Debi would not notice me
engaged in masturbation. I was not a little emboldened by the
general ambience inside the theater.
'If only he was not with us!' I remember thinking.
It was not long before another explicit scene erupted across
the screen. The wife had invited the 'peddler' in and, one thing
leading to another, they found themselves in the bedroom. Some
very passionate kissing and necking melted into the shot of them
having wild sex. My first exposure to explicit coitus on film!
The man was leaning his back against the head-board and the
woman was riding him completely naked with her back towards him.
She was kneeling astride his waist. In the subdued light of her
bedroom, a close-up shot showed her looking down and presumably
reaching with her hand to guide the man into her. The action,
though hidden from the audience's view, could not have been more
erotically conceived. I heard a few loud gasps even at this. I
guess everybody else heard them too, for Debi placed her left hand
over my right and gave a knowing squeeze. I looked in her
direction and my eyes almost automatically followed past her face
and to where her other hand was. It was on Ajit's lap!
It was actually out of sight! It was inside Ajit's pajamas!
Ajit was staring straight ahead at the screen. I clenched my teeth
and dug the two fingers of my left hand deeper into my dripping
cunt. The muscles inside pulsated around my digits.
Debi was doing it to him . . . right there . . . in the hall . . .
while I was sitting right beside her!
The woman on the screen had started to grind her hips in an
up-down and sideways motion, otherwise described as gyration. The
man reached around her front and started rubbing her clit, his
legs spread slightly apart and out towards us. We could not see
his cock, but could almost see her vaginal lips under the thick
triangle of her pubic hair. She was doing him rather gently at
first . . ..
I looked back at Debi. She was enjoying the scene. Sensing
my stare, she turned her head and looked into my eyes. Then,
without letting Ajit go, she leaned towards me and whispered "How
do you like it?"
"My god" I replied, "I never imagined . . . and you are enjoying a
whole lot I see."
"Yeah . . . " she whispered again, "Do you see the two in front of
you? They are really doing it hard"
I had not looked at them since this scene had started. Debi
was right, the two were jerking each other off in full swing. I
guess they were too excited to even remember that there were
people around. Then again, from the various sounds that we could
hear from around the cinema, they were not the only ones that
could not help themselves. This film, to us, was the next best
thing to a porn.
The seats being staggered, one of them was sitting slightly
to my left. Slightly craning my neck, I could see his trousers
were open in the front and his friend had the hard manhood out and
in his fist. He was massaging it vigorously while himself being
rewarded for it by his friend. My first glimpse at an adult male
principle -- albeit poorly lit -- live; and that too in its full
glory! I felt my vaginal muscles squeezing my fingers a few times
in response.
I turned to Debi and whispered, "The couple on the other side were
kissing a while back"
"Kissing!" Debi said under her breath, "My god! She is sucking
him!"
Obviously she could see past me. I turned my head around
rather slowly. I need not have been worried about being discovered
looking at them, for the guy's head was thrown back and he was
breathing through his mouth, his eyes closed. His partner was bent
over towards him, her back to us, and her face was buried in his
lap. I remember being amused at the thought of their rather
perfect clothes suffering greatly from the consequence of such a
public naughtyness.
I had to jerk my fingers out of my cunt. It was getting hard
to resist. Debi had not noticed earlier, but the sudden movement
of my hand under my sari drew her attention. Figuring out what I
was up to and she offered her hand, "Let me do it.."
"Are you crazy . . .?" I said in a whisper, "Ajit . . ."
"Never mind him . . . look" and she gestured towards herself.
Ajit's left hand was inside her sari too. I had missed it
before since Debi had carefully concealed his hand with the
'aanchal' of her sari.
I smiled, grabbed her left hand and guided it to my stomach
in silent approval. She deftly wiggle her hand inside and it
touched my wet fingers. Guiding it to my moist opening, I left the
rest to her, my hand just resting on hers while she pleasured me.
I looked in her direction again. Our eyes met. I saw the familiar
naughty glitter in her glazed-over eyes.
Ajit was leaning slightly towards Debi to allow himself
better control over what he was doing under her sari. He appeared
rather calm for somebody getting jerked off by his girlfriend . .
. his lips were slightly parted and I noticed him periodically
closing his eyes; nothing more than that to give him away. Not
that it mattered, for he was well-shielded from the aisle by the
short wall. The usher, who normally hovers around with his
penlight turned on, were nowhere to be seen. There was one short
row of seats behind us, and that was empty. The row of seats one
over and across the aisle was occupied by the actress and her
companions. They were all sitting very low in their seats and I
could only see the crowns of their heads. Despite my preoccupation
with what was going on between the three of us, I couldn't help
but wonder what THEY were up to.
The auditorium was alive with the sounds of the love making
on the screen, mingled with those being generated by some of the
members of the audience in various states of excitement. I myself
was breathing rather heavily, and audibly. Despite the usual
Bengali pedanticism about sex, a sense of helpless abandon
pervaded the theater.
I wanted to lean over and kiss my cousin. It was a strange
feeling . . . as if we were engaged in a threesome. I could almost
feel Ajit through Debi. I wanted to do what he was doing to her.
Regardless of the state I was in, I could not penetrate the thin
veil that separated me from him. I reminded myself that I loved
Debi too much to risk it.
So, I satisfied myself by caressing her hand that was
engaged between my thighs. Our fingers played a delicate
instrument there; and I could sense the rhythm from Ajit's hand
transmitting through her and to our intertwined fingers. My other
hand wanted to reach out and touch her breasts. And again I
refrained from intruding.
The woman on the screen was riding the man in a frenzy. The
full frontal shot in the semi-dark bedroom showed her small firm
breasts quivering as she gyrated her hips, the man rubbing her at
the apex of the dark triangle. Her head thrown back, she was
screaming out her approach. The man was bucking his hips up and
down, his face hidden from the camera.
The boys sitting in front row were visibly nearing their
climax. I could see their hands moving faster and faster. As I
momentarily looked back at Debi and whispered to look at them,
Debi glanced in their direction and, clutching my pubis with a
little extra vigor, announced, "Oh . . . my . . . he is . . ..
comming . . ." (literally translated: "Oh . . . my . . . the boy .
. . its happening !")
I immediately jerked my head back in that direction, a sense
of momentary disappointment taking over at the prospect of missing
the show.
I did not.
The boy, whose erect member I was able to see, was still
shooting his white semen out under the expert pumping action of
his friend's left hand.
That was another first for me . . .
The force of his ejaculation sent the first few spurts above
and over the empty seat in front. The boy was visibly exhausted;
and as his friend continued to pump him, his flow reduced to globs
trickling down the head and onto his friend's fist, he let is head
slump back on the back of the seat.
It could not have been sooner.
Immediately after that, the fucking on the screen was rudely
interrupted by the woman's toddler daughter, hugging her doll,
barging in on them.
Yeah! They had not locked the door! 'Serves them right. . .', I
remember regarding in utter disappointment transmuting to a sense
of ire towards them. It was hard to tell who was more disappointed
. . . the woman -- so close to her climax -- or the people, that
were so in tune with the scene this side of the screen. The let
down at that stage was too much for some to bear . . . and it was
almost palpable.
In truth, we really did not need any stimulation from the
movie anymore. We were in our own world of sexual bliss. The three
of us carried gently on and on, with Ajit coming first. As Debi
announced in my ear about his reaching the finish line, I couldn't
hold back any longer. More than the sex on the screen, the thought
of Debi's fist around Ajit's throbbing manhood pushed me over the
crest. I closed my eyes and came, holding our two hands between my
thighs in a vise-grip. Debi needed a little more fingering from
him and she climaxed with carefully controlled convulsions. A few
more scenes showing explicit and simulated sex had come and gone,
undoubtedly bringing the rest of the audience some satisfaction;
but I didn't even bother to follow the rest of the movie. I was in
heaven. The invisible barrier that Ajit had unknowingly erected
between me and Debi, had finally started to crumble.
There wasn't much of the movie left when we finished. Like I
said: the 'goings on' on the screen were meaningless to me once
our 'threesome' got going in full swing. I think the same was true
for Debi and Ajit. We caught our breath and spent the rest of the
time in the soft darkness rearranging our clothes. The odor of
male and female exudates, mixed with a sweaty smell, filled the
air inside. When the credits started rolling and the lights came
on slowly -- matching the mood of the audience -- we looked around
us and discovered that the couple on my left had already left. As
we were making our exit, I noticed some guys trying to hide the
wet spots in their clothes with their hands strategically placed
in front of them. Some had their shirts out of their pants. Not a
few of the women had their saris rather badly crumpled. The
ushers, standing at the gate, gave them the knowing smirk and made
some remarks to each other under their breaths. The women tried to
ignore them but the color on their cheeks gave away their
embarrassment. The very public nature of what we had been a part
of made me horny again.
Ajit and Debi looked at each other with naughty satisfied
smiles at the bus-stop. He also looked at me and said, "So . . .
how was it?" It was a question equivocal in obvious naughtiness;
and, looking straight at his eyes, I knew that that's exactly what
he intended it to be.
I replied, albeit with another, "How did YOU like it?"
He looked at Debi and said, "Oh . . . it was marvelous . . . the
movie, I mean".
Debi hugged me from the side and said, "Sharmi loved it -- I know
. . . the movie, too?" Then she broke out in laughter.
"I did, too . . . you'll have to fill me in about the story later"
I said, and then added, "Are you leaving now?"
"He has to" Debi answered for him, "He needs to freshen up". I
thought I was a little disappointed at that. God! What was I
thinking! What did I expect from Ajit's coming back to the house
with us?! I reproved myself for letting my lurid imagination run
amok.
The bus came soon and Ajit clamored in along with a bunch of
other movie goers. It was already crowded and I thought to myself
that they wouldn't need explain their disheveled clothes at their
destinations. I thought about my experience the day before and
felt my stomach muscles tighten as the bus pulled away.
"I am ready again, if you are" I told her as we left the bus-stop.
"I know . . ." Debi squeezed my hand and said, "me too . . . "
" I want to know everything" I urged her by squeezing her hand
back.
"Oh boy, he was holding my hand and when that scene started he
pulled it to his lap," Debi described, "I felt it had swelled, so
I started squeezing it through his panjabi and the pajamas . . ."
"And it got more hard . . .?" I was already breathing heavily.
"Oh yeah . . . right under my hand; and I got sooo wet! Ajit then
pulled up his panjabi and loosened the cord of his pajamas. I
figured what he wants. Put my hand inside and then under the
'jaangia' (Bengali for 'briefs'). It was sooo hard . . . like
steel. I started to pull it out; but he stopped me. I guess he did
not want to mess up his clothes on the outside. So I held it
inside his jaangia and massaged . . ."
"Was its head pointing up?" The details . . . I wanted the
details. I needed to know the details to fully become a part of
the threesome.
"No, silly . . . then it would spurt out and on his panjabi,
wouldn't it!" Debi explained -- a slight hint of condescension in
her voice, "the head was down between his legs . . . Ooooh . . .
it was really hot . . ."
"Then . . . ?" My clit was getting a gentle massage with every
step that I took. I couldn't care less about sounding naive. So I
was -- for all practical purposes -- and Debi knew it.
"He put his hand inside my sari, of course, and started doing me."
Debi said almost in a whisper, lest the passers by should be
scandalized; not that anybody could hear anything over the din of
the usual evening crowd and the honkings.
"Oooh . . . Debi . . .. I am hot . . .. again!" I let her know.
"I know. I figured by just looking at you," Debi assured me. "So?
You want to do it here?" She added with a naughty chide in her
voice.
I must admit -- I never knew that I had a little
exhibitionist in me -- the idea did not seem too bizarre to me
then. Indeed, like I said before, I had discovered just a short
while back the eroticism inherent in doing it in public. While the
idea was extremely appealing, we certainly could not venture into
making it real. So, we waited till we were alone at Debi's. Once
inside, she quickly closed the front door even as I was taking my
sari off.
We went into the living room and Debi closed the windows.
Through the wooden shutters, twilight filtered into the otherwise
darkened room. I was standing in the middle of the room in my
petticoat and blouse. Debi turned around and looked at me with
tender lust. My heart fluttered in anticipation. I wanted her
right then. I wanted to smell her and I wanted to smell Ajit on
her. As she approached me I grabbed her hands in mine and lifted
them up to my face . . . I covered my nose in her palm.
Aaaah . . . Ajit's and my own odor mingled from her two palms and
into my nostrils. I felt my cunt throb, soaking my panties some
more.
Cupping my face in her palms, Debi kissed me on the lips. As
I parted them, her tongue darted in, caressing my teeth and then
playing with mine. I reached around her back with both arms and
drew her to me. My fingers found the hooks that held her
sleeveless blouse and I undid them one by one. She reciprocated by
undoing mine from the front. We were still standing in each
other's arms; and Debi was still fully clothed. I presumed she
didn't want to dash at it. It was just fine with me, for I could
feel my juices running down the inside of my thighs. The thin
fabric of the panties could hold only so much! As much as my
orgasm was just a finger's touch away, I did not want it to be
over just yet. I have forever been a sucker for gentle and
prolonged sex. Not that there haven't been occasions and needs for
quickies -- solo or otherwise -- but, following one, I am almost
always left with a sense of non-fulfillment (is there such a word?
If not, consider it coined; for there isn't a better word in my
vocabulary).
Debi pushed my blouse aside and unclasped my bra with one
hand, passing it with a feather-touch from my nipple to nipple.
Already engorged, they now firmed up and became erect. The third
throbbed between my legs, begging to be touched. I stiffened every
muscle in my body and ignored it. Oh . . . was it ever tough!
Indeed, I had to keep my thighs adequately apart to keep my love-
button from receiving any involuntary attention.
It seemed like an eternity before Debi broke her embrace and
withdrew her tongue from my mouth. Both of us gasped for air,
surfacing from the depth of our mutual desire. She tugged at the
cords of my petticoat and it fell to the floor in a neat heap
around my ankles. I took my blouse and the bra off. Then I simply
tugged at her sari that was neatly tucked into her petticoat, and
it came undone almost all at once. She hurriedly undid the chords
and slipped out of the rest of the garments. The next moment, we
were again standing in a tight embrace; this time ,though, only a
thin film of sweat -- beside my panties, drenched at the crotch --
was all that separated our bodies.
My nipples rubbed against her's and they seemed to swell
further and become more stiff, if that were possible. They were
sending off sparks in every direction, as we moaned into each
other's ears.
"That movie was . . . terrific . . . wasn't it?" Debi moaned,
trying to part my legs with her thighs. She wanted to do it
standing.
"Oh . . . yesss . . . Debi . . . and . . . you frigged . . . Ajit
. . . seeing that! Didn't you . . . ?" I said, holding my ground
with my feet firmly planted on the cold cement floor. I did not
want any part of her to touch me there! Not even the fabric of my
panties would then prevent the inevitable.
"Yessss . . . yesss . . . oh . . . it was hard and warm . . . and
he came inside his jaangia . . .. " Debi kept saying, still trying
to get to my cunt with her thighs, "and I did you . . . in there .
. . it was so hot . . . that way . . ."
"It was hot . . . Debi . . . let me do you now . . . " I begged,
"I want to . . . so much . . . sweet Debi . . ."
"I want to do you too, Sharmi . . ." Debi insisted.
"I am too hot right now" I whispered, "I will come right now if
you touch me."
Debi understood and, breaking our embrace, stood back a
little. Holding my breasts in her hands, she stooped and took one
of the erect nipples between her teeth. I clutched her hair and
cried out in pleasure - "Oh my . . . Debi . . . nnnnngh . . ..
aaaaahhhhh . . .. God . . . ohhhh!" With that I pulled her down on
the floor.
She lay on her back, her firm well-rounded breasts quivering
in anticipation. The two dark aureoles, capped by swollen hard
nipples, beckoned me urgently. I crawled on top of her --
supporting my torso on my elbows -- my two legs resting slightly
apart between hers.
I looked into her eyes as our nipples met, once again
sending ripples of electricity through my naked form. She closed
her eyes and parted her lips. I dove into it with my tongue and
sealed it with my lips, making an 'O' around hers. I flicked my
tongue around inside her mouth. She played with it with her own.
Mixed together, the saliva was an aphrodisiac!
She brought her hands up and, supporting her breasts from
the sides, gently rubbed her nipples against mine. They were
aching . . . as if ready to burst . . ..
I slid down along her perspiring body and buried my face
into the soft valley. She smelled wonderful, with her perfume . .
. her sweat . . . her arousal mingling into the familiar aroma of
excitement. I inhaled and bathed my senses in it. Then, propping
myself up again, I took her nipples in my mouth, taking turn and
lingering on each. I would circle the aureoles with my lips, and
then gradually let it slide back till the nipple positioned itself
between my lips. I would suck hard and then lightly bite on it . .
.
We had learned to pleasure each other over the past several
months. Some of it were gathered through erotica, both English and
Bengali; but, mostly, we discovered our bodies mutually.
Wonderfully, though, despite our knowledge of each other's body
and its pleasures, we rediscover each other every time. We have
never failed to surprise each other.
"Ohhhhhnnnnng . . . Aaaaaaah . . .. Sharmi . . .. Ooooh . . .."
Debi started to moan. She clasped the small of my back with her
legs and started to rock . . . thrusting her pelvis towards me . .
. almost pathetically making futile attempts at trying to make her
cunt make contact with my belly. Even in that state of my own
arousal I felt in control. I was in charge of the schedule. I
would decide when she spent . . . when we spent . . .
Even as I was raising the heat in Debi, I was wetting the
floor directly beneath my cunt with my more-than-copious juice
seeping through the thin fabric that clung to my crotch. I took a
hand between our bellies and moved it down between her legs. Her
cropped silky thatch, slippery wet from my secretion, was
plastered against her pubis. I slid the hand slightly further down
and, parting the swollen lips, inserted two fingers inside. Her
juice, having welled up in the tunnel, immediately flooded my hand
up to the wrist. I started a slow ,and deliberate motion . . .
wiggling my fingers with every stroke. . .
"My . . . Ahhhhh . . .. God . . .. Sharmi . . . yesss . . .. yes"
Debi arched her back and shouted her approval.
"Mmmmmmm . . .. " is all I responded with, my mouth busy at her
breasts.
"Oh . . . oh . . . Sharmi . . . Sharmi . . . Sharmi . . . my God .
. . I . . . I . . . ooooof . . . oooof . . . nnnnng . . . I can't
. . . stand . . . it . . . anymore . . ." Debi moaned and crooned
and undulated.
It was getting harder and harder for me to keep my cool. I
had to struggle to keep my thighs from coming together upon my
low-set clit. But, even as Debi gyrated her hips in rhythm,
matching that of my digits, I grew more and more determined to
take her to the nadir and show her that what Ajit could do, I
could do better. My love for her and my envy towards her beating
me to a cock complemented each other, I think.
"Sharmi! My Sharmi . . . do it . . . do me. Fuck me . . .. fuck me
. . . ooooooof . . . . . nnnnnng . . .. fuck me . . .. frig . . .
frig . . . frig me . . . yesssssss . . .. yes . . . yes . . . "
Debi's whole body was flailing under me . . . her back arching . .
. her hips moving up and down, and sideways . . . forming a wave.
I decided it was time. I withdrew my fingers from her cunt.
"Ooooooooh! No . . . no . . . nommmmmm . . . . ." Debi bucked her
hips up, moaning her disappointment.
"Shhhhh . . ." I stopped her objection with my lips and massaged
both her breasts more vigorously with both hands.
I slid down again, keeping both my hands on her breasts and
tweaking the stiff nipples between the index and middle fingers.
Drawing my tongue along the middle of her belly I stopped at her
deep navel. I felt her muscles tighten as she let out a lung-full
of air when I drew a circle around it with the tip of my tongue.
Clutching my head in her hands, she held it there for a moment and
then let me on my way for further explorations . . .
I pulled myself up on all fours, my head hovering directly
above her lower belly. She looked at me from under her heavy eye-
lids . . . a helpless abandon in that look. I was in charge!
I kissed her mons, the tickle from her triangle sharpening
my own excitement. I placed my hands on either side of her cunt
lips, taking care not to touch them directly. I squeezed the
flesh, that flanked her swollen lips, together . . . Debi squealed
in delight . . . forming some intelligible words of pleasure.
Clear slippery juice dribbled down the crack, along her buttocks
and onto the floor. Almost involuntarily, she pulled her knees up
and spread her thighs wide apart.
I could wait no more. Without my hands holding them shut,
the labia were almost an inch apart. The pink tunnel -- filling up
constantly with her juice -- twitched at me invitingly; and I
didn't have the will left to resist . . .
Getting between her thighs, I brought my mouth down to her
cunt. I extended my legs behind me and, lying now on my belly, I
put my tongue inside her.
"Oh . . . my God . . .. my . . . my . . . Sharmi . . . eat . . .
eat . . . eat . . . eat my cunt . . .. yessss . . . " her buttocks
raised up in the air and stayed there, as if to engulf me by her
sex.
I slurped and slurped and slurped . . . her never ending
nectar flowing down the side of my mouth. I felt her clitoris
throb against my nose and, as I lapped her cunt, I pressed hard
against the love-button with my nose. Debi shuddered and brought
her thighs together to hold my head tightly between them . . . as
if afraid of my mouth losing its target.
"Aaaaaaaaaah . . .. fuck . . . fuck . . . eat . . .. yeah . . .
fuck . . . yesssssss . . . . . ooooooooooof . . . I . . . I . . ..
I . . . Noooooo . . . nnnnnnnnnnnghhhh . . ."
And she came! Her clit almost shuddering against the tip of
my nose . . . her cunt muscles spasmodically squeezing my still
moving tongue . . . she came. . .
I was still in control, I thought to myself!
I kept on nudging at her clit and kept on licking up her
juice from inside her and she kept on coming. My nipples ached in
distension; my own vagina flowed uncontrolled. Under the drenched
fine fabric, my clitoris cried out for a touch; but I kept on
sucking at her as her hips gyrated wildly, my head still tightly
held between her thighs . . .
Finally she let herself go. With one loud sigh, she dropped
her buttocks back to the floor and let her thighs fall on either
side. But I had not had enough of her yet. I took her clit between
my lips and started sucking . . .
"No! No! Sharmi . . . sweet darling . . . Sharmi, no more . . .
please . . . please . . . I am done . . ." Debi begged me to stop.
But I was in a sexual frenzy of my own. I kept playing with it
using my lips, my tongue . . ..
She yanked at my hair and pulled me up on top of her. I kissed her
full on her mouth . . ..
"Mmmmmmmmm . . . I taste good!" She said, licking her own juice
off my face; and with that, she slid one of her thighs between
mine and pulled her knee up . . ..
I squirmed on her thigh . . . my clit sending shock waves through
my body. She rocked with me laying on her . . . stomach to
stomach, nipple to nipple, our breasts pressed together . . ..
Like a hurricane making landfall it happened . . . and I came --
my panties still on, I climaxed in a violent convulsion that
lasted for a whole minute . . . (I think. . .)
"I . . . I . . . I'm cummmmmmming . . . Debi . . . yes . . . yess
. . . yesssssnnnnnnnnng . . ." I yelled out in pleasure.
Debi continued rocking; and she massaged my back and my
buttocks with her two hands, urging me to completion, "Oh . . .
yes . . . do it . . . do it . . . on my thigh . . . yes . . . come
. . . come on me . . . nice . . . Sharmi . . . nicely . . . yesss
. . ." she sighed in my ears as I drenched her thigh blissfully.
We lay there, I on top of her, on the cold cement floor for
eternity. The ceiling fan -- the sole witness to our frenzied sex
-- groaning above us as if complaining of being left high and dry.
I am not sure how long we had to wait to catch our breath, but
Debi finally reminded me of another urgency.
"I need to pee . . ." She said with a chuckle.
"My God, yes . . . me too . . ." I was suddenly aware that my
bladder must have reached its limit for quite sometime.
Exhausted, we both had to pull ourselves off the floor.
I learnt that night that such scenes, that drove me and most of
the spectators wild, were not new to Debi. She had watched movies
with steamier scenes with Ajit. I was hurt, for I immediately
imagined them sitting in a dark cinema, masturbating each other
off, without me.
I know, I know; but when it came to Debi, I was not quite
rational.
++++++ end pt 5
(to be continued) +++++++++++++++++++
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