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From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 10:54:13 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} {RP}  My Story (part 7) by Sharmila Sanyal
Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 20:10:06 -0500
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Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com 

<1st attachment, "MS07.TXT" begin>

Here it continues, as had appeared in the original posting, 
albeit with some minor corrections and modofications:

***	
 


Some other preoccupation had kept me from reviewing and editing 
this portion of My Story, and hence the slight delay in 
posting.  I have received a few letters from readers urging me 
to hurry up, and I am truly flattered at their impatience.  I 
think I have indicated earlier that I have completed writing 
"My Story", so, barring my demise, all of it should appear in 
due course.  In spite of some serious suggestions about using 
one or two proof-readers, I have decided not to.  Instead, I 
rely on my readers to find the mistakes and email me at their  
convenience.  I sincerely appreciate any feed-back.  

NOTE:  Please visit my 'ftp' site at asstr-mirror.org's Authors 
section to read the previous parts.  

WARNING:  Do not proceed beyond this "warning" if you are not a 
mature person and/or are offended by explicit written 
descriptions of sexual encounters! 

                       

My Story (part 7)

	It was during one of their annual visits to Calcutta, 
that Dipankar, then around twelve, initiated his first cousin 
in the art of masturbation.  Being close in their ages, they 
were also best friends -- despite the geographical distance 
between them.  

	It was the summer of 1974 and Calcutta was transformed 
into 'Venice' due to a week of continuous rain.  Schools were 
out and the kids were all having fun floating paper-boats right 
from their door steps.  Being from a part of the world where 
cities rarely took on a similar appearance,  Dipankar  was in a 
state of shocked amusement.  Not that he had not experienced 
monsoon in Calcutta before, but not in that scale.  His 
parents, quite understandably, did not let him play in the 
dirty water.  So, Dipankar was in his room upstairs doing what 
a bored twelve-year-old would like to do on monsoon afternoons, 
especially if he could have sneaked in a few Playboys in his 
suitcase from America.  

	When Ajit came up to the room, looking for his American 
cousin, he found him sprawled on their bed on his tummy, his 
legs spread apart.  His chin resting on the pillow, Dipankar 
had a colorful magazine open in front of him.  He was intently 
looking at something on that open page and rocking his hips 
back and forth.  Although he himself had never done it that 
way, it did not take him long to realise what his cousin was up 
to.  

	Ajit had been masturbating since he was ten.  But, so 
far, the only way he did it was by massaging the head between 
his thumb and the fingers.  He couldn't even do it with his 
left hand -- it had to be the right.  Things were about to get 
a lot better as he slowly closed the door and locked it from 
inside.  

"So . . . I thought you did not do it . . ." as Ajit broke the 
silence of the room, Dipankar froze.  "You don't have to worry 
Dipu, I do it everyday . . ." Ajit assured his cousin as he sat 
down on the bed.  

Dipankar turned his head and looked at him.  "I was bored . . . 
so I thought I'd look at the Playboys," he said almost in an 
explanatory tone.  To Ajit, that name made little sense.  

"Wow . . ." Ajit's eyes were drawn towards the open pages, 
where a girl with alabaster skin was sitting cross legged in 
the nude, with one hand strategically placed between her legs.  
The hand only had covered the slit, the curly blonde pubic 
hairs showing around it.  The boobs were perfect domes, capped 
with taut nipples centering the large aureoles.  As a natural 
reaction to walking in on his cousin's solo act -- and to the 
picture in front of him now -- Ajit's own member was fully 
erect under his shorts.  Like most kids his age, he did not 
wear  the 'jaangia' at home; consequently the sign of his 
arousal was quite apparent.  "What book is this?" Ajit's eyes 
were about to pop out of their orbits as his hand almost 
involuntarily found its target between his legs.  "Where did 
you get this?" He asked in a whisper.  

"You like this one?" Dipankar said, "You want to see more?" And 
with that he handed him the glossy Playboy.  

	Ajit had never seen anything so lurid.  His sexual 
stimulation usually had come from the mutts engaged in the act 
on the streets.  Sometimes he had stood in front of the used-
book stalls by the sidewalks and looked at the covers on the 
smutty novelettes, before hurrying back home for a trip to the 
bathroom -- to be alone.  At night, he would simply lie on his 
left side and use the right hand to rub the foreskin on the 
head, easily reaching 'orgasm' within a few minutes just 
thinking about the pictures of half-clad women.  He had not yet 
started ejaculating.  

	As Ajit intently looked at the pictures of  the beautiful 
women, Dipankar watched the reaction between Ajit's legs.  He 
was experiencing the same effect that Ajit had experienced 
watching him do it against the mattress.  He pressed his cock 
hard against the bed and rocked his hips from side to side . . 
. and he realised that he was getting more excited doing it in 
front of Ajit.  

	Dipankar turned over on his back.  He was wearing a pair 
of pajamas and had his cock facing his navel between his belly 
and the sheet.  The pajama cord must have come loose while he 
was pleasuring himself like that, for the young manhood -- in 
its full glory -- popped out into the open through the top.  As 
if instinctively, Ajit reached out,  grabbed his cousin's hard 
cock and started frigging him the only way he knew how.  

"Aaaaahhhhh . . ." Dipankar moaned.  It felt good.  

	He then offered to do Ajit, and Ajit opened the fly of 
his shorts.  His already rock-hard penis jumped out.  Dipankar 
circled the slender cock between his index and the thumb, and 
started stroking it up and down, pulling the foreskin all the 
way down and exposing the red pointed head.  Ajit closed his 
eyes and enjoyed the manipulation.  He never felt this good 
doing it himself.  

	After a while the tentativeness disappeared and Dipankar 
held his cousin's hard cock in his full fist.  He continued 
moving his hand up and down,  feeling the heat from Ajit's cock 
being transmitted from his palm, up his arm and to his own 
engorged penis.  A sticky watery droplet formed at the slit of 
the round bulb, lubricating Ajit's fingers that massaged the 
pinkish head through the foreskin.  

"You wanna pee?" Ajit made his naivete known.  

"Ngh-ngh" eyes closed in pleasure derived from his cousins 
fingers, Dipankar shook his head.  

"But . . . Dipu . . . you are . . ." Ajit insisted. . . 

	Dipankar looked at his cousin in amusement and  
explained.  Ajit was even more excited following the short 
course in essential physiology.  He was sitting, beside his 
prostrate cousin, genuflected at the edge of the bed rather 
awkwardly.  Making himself more comfortable by stretching out 
beside Dipankar, he lay on his side, his slender hard cock 
jutting out through the fly of his shorts.  He faced his cousin 
and resumed masturbating him.  He increased the tweaking motion 
on Dipankar's cock and started bucking his hips in earnest, 
deriving immense pleasure from sliding his member in and out of 
Dipankar's fist.  

	Though not his first, Dipankar was also enjoying this 
session very much.  He had had participated in mutual 
masturbation with a couple of his friends at school, but both 
his other friends had been rather knowledgeable in matters of 
sex and self-pleasuring.  The idea that it was obviously very 
unique and eye-opening for Ajit, made this one far more 
exciting for him.  He closed his eyes and prepared to come.  He 
tightened his stomach muscles and flexed his legs straight out, 
at the same time tightening his fist ever so slightly around 
Ajit's cock in the hope that he would follow suit.

"Aaaaghhhhh. . . faster . . . yeah . . . AAAAAAAAH . . . aaah . 
. . aaah . . . aaaah. . . nnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggg" and he shot.  
The way Ajit was doing him, his palm formed a hood over the 
head of his cock; and his semen shot out to strike against his 
cousin's cupped hand.  

	Ajit momentarily stopped what he was doing to Dipankar's 
penis, and soon, as if by instinct, started pumping him up and 
down in his fist -- now well lubricated with Dipankar's own 
cum.  He wanted to come himself, but, despite the pleasurable 
sensation, the unknown stroke in Dipankar's fist would not 
help.  So, after Dipankar finished shooting his load, using the 
lubricated fingers of the hand that was holding his cousin's 
penis, Ajit brought himself to completion.  With deliberate and 
swift movement of the fingers and the thumb, he rubbed the 
pointed head of his cock, while Dipankar held it in his hand -- 
watching intently.  

"Nnnnngh . . . Nnnngggggh . . . AHHHGGGGH . . . nnnnngggggggg . 
. ." A little bead of slippery juice oozed out from the slit as 
he 'came'.  

	Such was the humble beginning of a relationship between 
two cousins that lived on two opposite faces of the planet.  
During the rest of his stay -- taking advantage of the fact 
that they slept on the same bed in the same room -- Dipankar 
taught Ajit a lot of different ways of solo and mutual 
masturbation.  You see, in Bengal, cousins of the same sex 
often would share a room and even a bed (especially if they are 
as close as Ajit and Dipankar were).  I am not sure how many of 
such arrangements end up in benefiting each other in this 
manner, but I have a hunch (and many have agreed) that such 
things are more common than the 'grown-ups' would like to 
admit.  I have now come to accept the fact that memories of the 
adolescent years are carefully tucked away by the 'moral' 
majority, lest sex should be regarded with tender love.  

There I go again -- off on a tangent. . . 

	Since Dipankar used to visit Calcutta on a regular basis 
every summer during school break, the two cousins continued to 
explore each other's sexuality.  Dipankar used to sneak in 
explicit books and magazines for Ajit, and they enjoyed 
frigging each other while reviewing them.  The visits became 
irregular once Dipankar started going to college, as he had had 
to do summer jobs.  But, their youthful indiscretions continued 
at every opportunity.  

"You mean . . . they . . . still . . . do it?" I was rubbing 
myself and panting in unbearable heat.  As I mentioned before, 
I found the thought of two boys engaged in mutual masturbation 
extremely arousing.  Debi's account had not been too long (Yes 
. . . I have taken the liberty to fill in the gaps from my 
imagination even as I did back then) but, mentally, I was 
actually witnessing the two masturbating each other off.  I had 
never in my wildest actually thought that Ajit and Dipankar did 
it together.  I thought Debi and I were simply talking dirty 
during our passionate love-making and making up stories that we 
found exciting.  But all those times that Debi whispered her 
fantasies in my ears, while rubbing her seat of excitement on 
my thigh, she knew about Ajit and Dipankar.  I remember feeling 
like the fifth wheel again after a long time but also the very 
fact that Debi let me in on their secret (and what a secret!) 
also drove me wild with passion.  A thousand possibilities 
rushed through my mind and I virtually attacked Debi with my 
sex.  

	She was telling me about it lying on her back.  As soon 
as she was done with it, I straddled her face and almost gagged 
her with my wet dripping cunt.  For the first time, I think, I 
was too wild to think about her.  

"Urgh . . . mmmmm . . . Sharmi. . ." Debi managed to utter.  

"Eat me . . . eat me . . . Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh . . ." I 
commanded her, rocking back and forth on her mouth.  Visions of 
Ajit and Dipankar fucking us together kept flashing before me 
as I came almost as soon as Debi managed to touch my clit with 
her tongue.  I convulsed in a series of short orgasms and 
collapsed against the wall in front of me -- Debi's head still 
between my thighs.  

"Wow -- Sharmi . . ." Debi said, extricating herself from under 
me, "You are really hot about Ajit and Dipu doing it together . 
. . aren't you!"	

	I had little energy left to respond to that redundant 
query.  Hunched up in a ball at the head of my bed, I was 
utterly exhausted from a super-fast mind-numbing orgasm.  Debi 
sat up and hugged me from behind.  The feel of her naked skin 
against mine sent another series of sparks -- only this time 
they were soothing.  I turned around from my crouched position 
to face her.  She kissed me deeply and tried to put one hand on 
my pussy.  I squeezed my thighs tightly and said . . . "Oh my 
God . . . not now . . . I am done!" 

	That was the first time that either of us had climaxed 
alone in each other's company.  It was hard for her to believe 
that I finished it completely.  I could see the hurt in her 
eyes, for she was aroused talking about her fiancé and his 
cousin, and then by the 'assault' of my cunt on her mouth.  

	There must have been something unfamiliar in my voice, 
for she let go of me and dropped back on the bed, sobbing.  
Lying there on her back, with knees folded up, she covered her 
face with both hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  I could not 
see her hurt that way.  I loved her too much and that's when I 
realized that I was a little mad about sharing Debi with 
anybody.  It felt so silly momentarily that I started to cry 
too.  Thank God the room adjoining mine was empty, otherwise 
our joint sobbing would surely have attracted some unwanted 
attention.  

	I looked at Debi and her vulnerability begged me to love 
her.  Her beautiful fullness lying in front of me -- her skin 
glistening with her sweat -- beckoned me to comfort her.  I 
felt low for having done to her whatever that she thought I had 
done.  

	Her sex was in full view between the smooth mounds of her 
buttocks, from under her thighs that she held pressed together, 
the heels of her perfect feet digging against the underside.  
My eyes were drawn to the dark swollen lips of her vagina.  
They were parted wide, invitingly framing her pink tunnel that 
was still welled up with her juice.  I crouched low on my 
stomach and folded my legs back and up at the knees.  My feet 
resting against the wall and the crown of my head right under 
her feet, I reached out with my tongue and touched those lips 
with its tip.  

"Nnnnng . . . Sharmi . . ." she let out a suppressed moan, 
mixed with obvious excitement of surprise at what I was doing.  

"Shhhhh . . ." I put one hand on the top of her feet and 
signaled her to stay put . . . and she did.   

	Without touching any other part of her body, I leisurely 
traced my tongue over the labia and felt her thigh muscles flex 
while she let out yet another muted moan . . . "Aaaaaahhhhhh 
ssshhhhhh".  Then, she grabbed both her legs under the knees 
with her forearms and pulled them tightly toward her chest.  

	I could feel a gentle wave of excitement pass from the 
tip of my tongue, along my neck, through the valley of my firm 
breasts and down to my own sex.  Debi's moans of pleasure never 
failed to excite me.  And, in spite of myself, I felt the 
telltale warmth spreading through my earlobes.  My tongue made 
its way into Debi's love tunnel.  I tasted the musky sweetness 
flowing there uninhibited, the tip of my nose nudging softly 
against the distended nub -- nestled within her silky curls -- 
that quivered at the entrance.  

"Sssshhhhhhhhh . . . mmmmm" Debi drew in a lung-full of air in 
a desperate attempt to keep still; but I could feel her entire 
body shaking with heightened arousal as she pulled her knees 
apart with both hands -- as if serving  her sex for me to feast 
on with more ease.  I did full justice to what was in front of 
me.  I sucked on the dark flesh of her labia and then dove into 
her cunt with my tongue.  My face half buried into her,  I 
found myself reaching for my breasts with both hands while 
pressing down on the clit with my thighs.  

"Oh . . . Sharmi . . . yessssss . . . nnnnng . . . nnnnng . . . 
nnnnng . . ." I heard Debi whimper.  Then she started to rock 
from side to side -- still holding her legs to her chest -- 
trying to divert some of the friction to her clit, which was, 
by then, straddling the bridge of my nose.  

	I sucked hard to draw out as much juice from her cunt as 
I could.  She kept flowing, in keeping with my thirst; and I 
kept forcing my tongue, my mouth and my nose inside her, 
stretching the tight -- yet soft -- tunnel as much as it would 
take.  Debi was too far gone to sense pain, even if she felt 
any.  I was determined to give her an ultimate mouth.  (There 
isn't a word like that? Well, there ought to be.) 

	Perhaps a tiny remnant of the same jealousy was still 
driving my arousal too as I matched Debi's rocking motion and 
started rocking myself -- only back and forth -- driving my 
mouth again and again into her cunt, transforming the length of 
my naked perspiring  body into a gauntlet, as if to get lost 
within my lovely cousin.  The curls around her opening were now 
a matted mass, wetted thoroughly with my saliva and her own 
juices.  The silence of the room was only broken by the sound 
of me lapping Debi up frantically. . . 

"Eeeeeeeeeessssssssshhhhhhhhhhh . . . ahh . . . ahhh . . . 
aaaaahhhhhhhnnnng . . ." another suppressed squeal from her 
announced her impending climax.  

"Come . . . please . . . come . . . yess . . ." I spoke into 
her cunt, trying not to interrupt either my feast or the 
rhythmic flexing of my thigh muscles.  I was almost ready 
myself for the third time that night.  

"Yessss . . . Yessss . . . eat . . . eat . . . eat . . . do it 
. . . do it . . ." she whispered loudly, this time announcing 
her orgasm, "Oh . . . Sharmi . . . Sharmi. . . 
Sharmeeeeeeeennnng . . . commmmming . . . aaaaaahhhhhh. . ."

And I joined in with a "Mmmmm . . . mmmmnnnnnnggggggghhhhhh . . 
." Pinching down hard on my nipples and massaging my clit 
between my thighs, I let out a long and satisfied moan -- 
muffled by my cousin's sex -- even as she let go of her legs to 
bear down on my head with her thighs.  I virtually collapsed, 
breathless, between them, my face still buried in her wet and 
slippery cave. . . 


	I woke up in the middle of the night -- or whatever was 
left of it -- and found myself in almost the same position.  
Lying flat on her back, Debi was sound asleep; and, with legs 
bent at the knees and my feet resting against the wall, my head 
was resting on one of her thighs.  I was stiff from passing out 
in a position that would be immensely uncomfortable except 
while having sex.  

	I opened my eyes, got my bearing and sat up with some 
effort.  The alarm clock on my study table showed four.  It was 
early April and the first daylight was going to break in 
another hour-and-a-half.  Usually I would not go back to sleep 
if I woke up around that time.  But, that morning, I was in no 
shape to get up for the day.  

	The exquisite nude form of my beautiful cousin -- her 
legs wide apart -- the perfect mounds of her breasts resting 
symmetrically on her chest, was occupying the center of my bed; 
a restful and satisfied look on her handsome face.  I didn't 
feel like disturbing her sleep.  I grabbed the 'maadur'* from 
under the bed, the spare pillow from the bed, and spent the 
rest of the morning on the floor.  

+++++++++ end of part 7 (to be continued)

                    * 

*a mat woven from the coconut fronds

  
<1st attachment end>


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