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From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 10:55:51 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} {RP} My Story (part 8) by Sharmila Sanyal
Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 21:10:05 -0500
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Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com
<1st attachment, "MS08.TXT" begin>
I appreciate your feedback. The revised post of this part is a
direct result of such feedbacks.
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 8)
My jealousy notwithstanding, the three of us drew closer
as days went by and became more and more daring. I was living
a heady life that, by no means, could be classified as staid.
I took sex as an essential part of my existence that I enjoyed
extraordinarily. More I loved more I wanted to be one with the
object of my love; and Debi was that person in my life.
I had a purely sexual interest in Ajit, but that part of
me was carefully guarded from Debi, lest I should offend her.
I was mature enough to conceive that fantasies whispered during
sex often are just that.
Ajit's presence made my juices flow; yet I did not feel
that I had to have him. So far as friendship went, I regarded
him as close as any; and I think he felt the same way. That is
not to say that he ever failed to steal a glance in my
direction -- especially when I wore slightly revealing clothes.
I have caught him off guard staring at the cleavage of my
breasts. I have wondered about it. At the risk of sounding
conceited, I must admit that people find me worth a second
look; but, Debi has had a far better figure, with ample yet
firm breasts. Her shapely waist curved down to the most
perfect derriere I have ever seen. At five-five she had the
right fullness that would rival that of any centerfold. So,
Ajit's stares obviously flattered me. My breasts have a wider
valley between them, and that -- I guess -- makes them sort of
mysterious to some men; or so I have learnt. I had a much more
flat stomach in my teenage years that accentuated the firmness
of my shapely breasts. Saree really looked good on me and I
knew it. So, I would occasionally remember to dress rather
provocatively with sleeve-less blouses that showed the gradual
slope of my full breasts and the valley between them -- if I
chose to. Apparently, that had a dual outcome: It turned Debi
on too. She has rarely -- even in public -- been able to hide
her desire to be close to me when I dress that way.
It was a breezy evening in late April that I found myself
strolling down the Hooghly river with the two of them. We were
talking about a lot of things, ranging from academics to
politics and politics to entertainment. In a natural
progression the subject turned to sex while dwelling on films.
Ajit started describing this South Indian film that he had been
to with a few of his classmates. The film was about a village
boy falling madly in love with an older woman in her thirties.
From what he was describing, a lot of steamy scenes had escaped
the scissors. Listening to Ajit describe the scene where the
boy (presumably) masturbates while spying on the object of his
infatuation while she is (presumably) indulging herself in the
shower and then getting caught by her, only to be drawn inside
the bathroom for her own pleasure (presumably), I became a
little aroused. I could feel the lips between my legs swelling
and parting. As we walked side by side I imagined the entire
scene where the boy has his wish come true in the woman's
bathroom. I pictured the woman kneeling in front of the boy,
his adolescent cock standing up in front of him . . . inches
from her eager mouth. Snippets of such shots fleeted past in
my imaginative brain; I wished Debi and I had accompanied him
to that movie -- I wanted to do it with them while watching the
movie in the darkened theater.
By the time we reached a nice spot by the river, where we
could sit down on a clean bench, we had walked about three
miles along the bank; and with the slow pace of our stroll, I
had been rubbing my clitoris between my thighs with every step.
I felt the juice trickling down my inner thighs. If I wished I
could have probably come that way -- while walking beside them
and listening to Ajit's watered-down account of the movie --
but I did not. (I really do not remember if I was unaware of
the potential or simply did not want to do it that way; but,
assuredly, I since discovered that it is easily achieved!)
We sat down on a bench under the huge tree. The bench
was surprisingly clean, despite being under the tree. It was
already quite dark and Debi sat close to Ajit . . . 'almost on
his lap,' I thought to myself. She, I'm sure, was also no less
aroused by the story she was listening to. I could not see her
face clearly but could make out her glistening eyes. I wasn't
sure what would happen next, but my heart was pounding and my
cunt was throbbing.
"So, why didn't you take me to see the movie?" Debi demanded,
with one of her hands resting palm down on the bulge on his
lap.
"Debi, I went with the guys without any plan." Ajit said. He
and one of his buddies from the Zoology went out to this
theatre to watch something else. The film was no longer
playing and they ended up seeing this one -- he explained.
"Aw'right; but what did you guys do in the theatre, as you
watched?" Debi's risque query told me that she was aroused.
"NOTHING!!" Ajit said quite emphatically and, looking at her
with a smile, added "God! Debi . . . what will Sharmi think?"
That was a redundant comment, for 'Sharmi' and the two have had
raunchier exchanges between them. It was, of course, part of
that intimacy.
"It's pretty late, maybe we should head back" Debi said quite
abruptly.
"Umm. . . sure . . ." Ajit nodded in agreement, "But let's
enjoy the breeze for a while."
"OK . . ." Debi looked in my direction and added, "We'd have to
walk back to the bus-stop"
Talk about a let down! Here I was, horny and dripping,
and the two of them were trying to behave cool as cucumbers. I
could sit there and finger myself to a good orgasm within a few
minutes! My brain was about to explode inside my skull.
"Dipankar is going to be here sometime next month" Ajit said
looking straight ahead at the flowing water. Did I detect a
hint of excitement in his voice?
"Really!" Debi sounded interested.
God! What was I thinking? Did I expect Ajit and Debi to
engage in wild sex right there on the bench and invite me in
their frolic? After the breeze had cooled me down a bit, I
almost laughed out loud in embarrassment at my unexpressed
thoughts.
"Yeah. . . let's start back" I forced myself to agree . . . and
squeezed my thighs together, as if to stifle a bawl from my
unruly and disappointed cunt.
For the next five or ten minutes, we talked about other
things and about Dipankar and then headed back to where the
buses would stop. We boarded the first bus that came along.
From there, all went to the Esplanade. It was quite empty and
Debi and I sat down on the small seat by the gate. Ajit stood
in front of us. That stretch of the ride being a short one, I
guess he wanted to be closer to us. I glanced at his fly and
noticed the distinct bulge. I looked at Debi and found her
looking in that general direction. She looked at me, winked
with a naughty smile, and gave my hand a squeeze. My love
canal started throbbing again.
"Are you two hot?" Ajit threw the double-edged query at us. It
was almost May, after all, and it was humid and hot. Looking
up at him, I saw the glitter in his eyes and the all too
familiar impish grin exposing the crowns of his perfect teeth.
He had realised the dubious nature of his question.
"What do you think?" I smiled back at him.
"Well . . . you are sweating . . ." Ajit winked at me.
"So I am, Ajit," I said. Then looking at Debi I asked, "So . .
. Debi. . . What is he going to do about it . . ..?"
"I don't know . . . why don't you ask him!" Debi said.
There wasn't anybody near us and the bus made enough sound to
muffle our low-pitched conversations. Yet, a middle-aged lady
sitting across from us gave me a dirty look. I guess, she had
a better hearing than most.
"Well, do you carry a fan or something with you?" I looked at
his fly and asked. Something in me that evening made me more
risque than usual -- and I couldn't care less what the fellow
passengers thought.
"I do . . . but . . . Debi needs the fan . . ." Ajit stooped
down and whispered between our ears.
Well, our boldness had advanced to a point where almost
anything went in our conversations. Sometimes Ajit would steer
our conversation in that general direction from where he could
be more explicit with us. I had the distinct feeling that the
openness was more for my benefit. I did not mind; nor did
Debi. We gathered our fodder for wild fantasies from what Ajit
would say. It was a strange thing . . . now that I look back!
I said 'bye' to them and boarded the 2B that was about to
depart from the Dharmatala stop. It was nine already and it
was another thirty-minute ride home. The bus was almost empty
the rest of the way. A petit girl, of about my age, sat across
from me and we exchanged smiles. She was beautiful with her
big eyes and a perfect pair of lips that reminded me of the
medieval sculptures. Her hair, made up in a single braid, was
lying across her front, along the contour of her rather full
breasts. I couldn't help but stare at her mesmerizing beauty.
She obviously felt embarrassed, for she smiled an awkward smile
again and crossed over to where I was sitting. She tried to
make light of the situation by sitting down beside me and
striking a conversation.
"Are you going all the way?" She asked with a shy smile. 'Was
everybody talking in riddles tonight!' I remember wondering. I
had to engage a mental brake to keep me from scandalizing my
companion.
"Er . . . no . . . and you?" I replied. "I am sorry if I made
you uncomfortable, but you are beautiful." I added. Now, it is
not at all unusual for one woman to compliment another this way
and, let me assure you in no uncertain terms, that it does not
carry any other connotation. She blushed.
"So are you," she said, "my name is Jayati." (Well, of course I
don't remember her name. I am having to make one up.)
"I am Sharmila" I said. "Where do you live?"
"I live in Ballygunj . . . but I am now going to my aunt's
place in Manicktala; I'll spend the night there with my
cousin. We will be going on a trip to Digha early morning
tomorrow."
"You'll have to take the bus from the Esplanade, I suppose?" I
carried on.
"Right. I wish there was a train," she said, "I hate long bus
rides."
"So do I." I empathized and looked at her eyes.
She helped me divert my attention away from the urgency
between my legs. I enjoyed a pleasant ride with her for the
next fifteen minutes before she got down at her stop. I looked
at her as she waved a short good-bye standing at the stop. She
reminded me of myself and I could not get her face out of my
mind. The more I thought about her, more her Eloraic beauty
captured my imagination; and soon I found myself fantasizing.
When I reached home, I could feel the crotch of my
panties soaked through again. I rushed upstairs and into the
bathroom with my head filled with the memory of the mild yet
intoxicating scent that had drifted from her and into my
nostrils. I could hear Ma calling after me for supper even as
I was closing the door shut behind me; but I had to relieve the
pressure that had been building up in my bladder for the last
hour.
I lay in my bed naked. The elaborate shower before the
supper had done little except heighten my arousal. Throughout,
I kept thinking about my fellow passenger and her exquisite
beauty. I had touched myself under the shower teasingly,
knowing that I was going to reward myself later in my bed. And
now I was doing just that. The silence of the warm and humid
night around me was only broken by the monotonous hum of the
ceiling fan cooling my naked body.
As I caressed my hard nipples between my fingers, I
imagined that 'Jayati', my beautiful fleeting acquaintance, was
lying on top of me, kissing me with her full shapely lips. My
nipples were brushing against hers and sending sparks through
my body while she rubbed my clitoris with the palm of her soft
hand.
I felt her tongue inside my juice-filled cunt as my own
two fingers traveled in and out in a deliberate phallic motion.
She was lapping me up hungrily ---- and I was obliging her,
quenching her thirst for me. Her long jade-black hair flowed
freely on the flat of my stomach, shielding my sex while she
feasted. I felt her soft cheek brush against my inner thighs
as she moved her head up and down . . . side to side. I felt
the wet spot -- where the roundness of my buttocks met the
sheet -- expanding. Her mouth made slurping sounds at my
dripping cunt, as she spread my lips down there with her own
soft, shapely lips, while driving her tongue deep -- twisting
it to lick my inside . . .
"Nnnnnnggggggh. . .." I moaned in delight. "Lick me . . .
yesssss . . . yessss . . . eat my cunt . . . eat it . . .
goooood . . . uh . . . uh . . . uhhhhhhhhhhnggggggg . . ." My
supine naked form writhing in ecstasy, I came in her beautiful
mouth . . . my own tongue darting out and finding her clit . .
..
I drifted off after the short but intense sex . . . I
dreamt of Debi and Ajit, lying naked by the river; and while I
ate them in turns . . . a beautiful girl, with dark flowing
hair, Eloraic lips and a smile that would melt any rock,
straddled their faces . . ..
I could not remember her name in my dream.
++++++++++++++ (End Part 8)
(To be Continued)
<1st attachment end>
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