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From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 10:59:00 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} {RP} My Story (part 11) by Sharmila Sanyal
Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 21:10:04 -0500
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Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com
<1st attachment, "MS11.TXT" begin>
I rely on my readers to find the mistakes and email me at their
convenience. I sincerely appreciate any feed-back. I reply to
almost every mail, but, often, personal schedule does keep me
from being prompt. Even if you do not receive an
acknowledgment from my end, please know that your comments,
critiques and corrections are immensely appreciated.
Please write at <anu_g42@hotmail.com>.
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 11)
by Sharmila Sanyal
I woke up feeling rather warm and sweaty and it was still
dark. It took me a few seconds to remember that I was in a
strange place. I was on my side, my knees folded up. I felt a
warm breath on my chest.
There were about fifty people among the bride's family
and friends that were invited to the reception at the groom's
house. After the reception, Chhordi wanted me, Sanjay and her
best friend, Sumitra-di, to stay and spend the night at her new
home. I guess she had started to feel homesick and knowing
that her brother, cousin and her friend would be close by --
even if it were for one night -- gave her a sense of security
among virtual strangers. It was not a big house. Indeed, it
was rather small considering that Subhash-da's parents, his
younger brother and a sister all lived there. They had three
rooms, of which one was being taken up by the newlywed couple.
The two neighbors had set up their houses for the overnight
guests. Subhash-da's mother wanted us to stay in their room,
but we all convinced her that we would be perfectly OK in the
drawing room. There were a few others there and the three of
us had staked our claim in one corner.
A big rug, covered with two layers of heavy linen, was
laid down on the floor; and pillows were graciously lent out by
all the neighboring families. It was past midnight before we
let the newlyweds go to their room for their "Honeymoon" night.
Some of the other girls were giggling as the two exited the
drawing room. I was wondering if the expectation that they
would consummate their relationship wasn't rather revolting.
The thought of the very ritualistic nature of two virtual
strangers engaging in intercourse turned me off. Whether it
was their unfamiliarity with each other, or the thought of them
knowing that they were supposed to be doing this regularly, but
only with each other, I couldn't feel very excited about them.
We talked and we laughed about things insignificant and, before
long, I had drifted off to sleep.
My sleep was interrupted by a warm breath on my chest. I
opened my eyes and tried to recognize the head that was almost
nudged up against my breasts. The aanchal of my saree having
shifted off, I could feel the breathing directly on my skin.
It was a humid night and I felt rather uncomfortable. After a
moment's hesitation, even as I was going to try and push the
head away, I felt something else. It was against my knees . .
. a hard and warm something! I froze and realized that it was
Sanjay -- my handsome adolescent cousin.
He was between me and the wall I was facing. That had
been the arrangement on our make-shift community bed, I
remembered. My back was turned towards Sumitra-di. Instantly,
I recognized the feel of the 'thing'. Regular commuting in
crowded buses had been quite educative in that respect. By the
time I was totally awake, I knew that he was awake too. He was
awkwardly lying on his side in a crouched form with his hard
adolescent manhood against my knees. I could feel the heat
from his excited state through his jaangia and his dhoti -- and
through my sari and petticoat!
My instinctive reaction was that of total shock. As I
became more aware of what was going on, the 'big sister' in me
wanted to put a stop to it. But the lascivious teen in me set
off a debate inside my head. I could pretend to wake up
suddenly, stretch and turn . . . away from him. On the other
hand, I could submit myself to the dictate of my libidinous
nature and keep feigning sleep. For several long minutes I
could not decide either way; and then the "naughty sister"
prevailed. I lay there feeling my cousin's hard cock being
rhythmically pressed against my knee, while my own body slowly
started responding with unmistakable signs of arousal.
Sanjay moved with amazing gentleness, the tempo
deliberately slow, his breathing -- on the valley between my
breasts -- heavy, yet controlled. In spite of myself, I was
marveling at his effort to keep his masturbation against me
almost imperceptible. Indeed, but for his temptation of
getting his face close to my chest, in all probability, I would
still have been asleep. It was dark inside the room, and I
could not see him move . . . not even a sound! I simply felt
his rubbing . . . no, pressing . . . of the length of his
hardness in a slow rhythm that matched his breathing.
While the sheer bawdiness of what was going on drove me
wild, I decided to lay still, just as I was, and let him have
his pleasure. The humid warmth of Sanjay's breaths on my flesh
sent flashes of heat down my body and to the pulsating tunnel
between my legs. I was well out of my frozen state, but I
couldn't even flex my thighs -- a maneuver that would have let
me take care of the fire between them. I was afraid to let my
adolescent cousin feel any movement. I wanted him to continue
with what he was doing. I wanted to feel him reach his goal.
I lay there motionless -- my teeth clenched -- while Sanjay
increased his pace ever so slightly. His motionless head
directly under my chin, and the smell of his hair, sent waves
of desire down between my thighs. I felt my cunt filling up
with juice. I silently prayed for strength to help me control
the impulse building up inside me: The immense urge to quit
being a silent, undiscovered, participant. Oh! How I wished
Sanjay would actually bury his face between my breasts. I
wished he would take my aching, taut, nipples between his
teeth. I wished I could reach out and grab his hard cock and
jerk him off. I wished a lot of things -- but I dared not act
upon it. The 'big sister' in me kept my libido from taking
over my senses.
He carried on and on and on, breaking off his contact
with me every now and then, presumably to prolong his pleasure.
Sometimes he just left his cock pressed against me, and I could
feel it pulsate. After what seemed to be an eternity to me, he
increased his pressure and the rhythm faltered . . . and I felt
the thing heave and throb! He turned his head away from my
breast and let out an audible gasp. He used a little more
pressure against my knees this time, perhaps momentarily forced
to lose his constraint at the peak of his urgency. He left it
pressed as it pulsated some more . . . and then I felt it
slowly lose its hardness.
Sanjay pulled himself back gently and turned away from me
on his side. I didn't move, waiting till I heard his breathing
become regular as a sign of him falling asleep again.
Somewhere far away, a clock struck three times . . . the faint
sound barely audible.
I had to go to the bathroom. I waited some more, making
absolutely sure that my cousin was peacefully asleep before I
got up. As I stood up, I could feel the crotch of my panties
sticking to my sex. I tip-toed carefully out of the room. I
also had to take care of the fire between my legs in the
bathroom. I have had strangers rub against me in buses. While
not everybody managed to climax, with those that did, I had
become quite adept at detecting male climax just by the nature
and the rhythm of the pulsations. Regardless, I must admit
that I would usually feel a little aroused myself from such
lewdness (and, I have serious doubts in the veracity of claims
to the contrary). But, this experience was so very different!
There was none of the namelessness; on the contrary, he was my
"brother" and it was only a couple of days back that I was
shamefully enjoying a bodily contact with him!
After emptying my bladder, I stood up and leaned against
the wall. It did not take too much to attain a blissfully
simple climax. A few strokes -- with my index -- across the
swollen labia brushing over my seat of excitement . . . and I
came with a short shudder. I rested a minute or two and headed
back to the drawing room. I was still in a state of confusion
about what had just transpired. It was different, too, in that
I hardly felt satisfied -- not even after having had an orgasm
in the bathroom!
I could not go back to sleep easily. With Sanjay
sleeping beside me, my lurid thoughts raced uncontrollably
through my mind. I had to sleep, I thought; and, with that, in
a very deliciously fragile state, I promised myself a reward
before I headed back to Calcutta. The resolution seemed to
work and I slept like a log till Sanjay woke me up around
eight.
Staring at him in the dull light of a monsoon morning, I
realised that I had stepped on a very slippery stone when I
wasn't looking.
+++++++++++++ (End Part 11).
(To be Continued)
<1st attachment end>
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