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From: "Sharmila Sanyal" <anu_g42@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} My Story (Part 4) by Sharmila Sanyal
Date: Sat, 2 Sep 2000 23:10:11 -0400
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This is the fourth part in the ongoing "My Story". I thank my readers for
writing to me. I am indeed overwhelmed by some letters ... and enjoy them
immensely. While I do not mind receiving emails from fans, I do urge all
my readers to be grounded in their realities while making this a part of
their fantasies. This is My Story and I am recounting MY erotic past and
present. However, I am limiting myself to episodes, days and events that I
consider seminal. So, if any of you want to know something in a greater
detail, you'll have to let me know and I will try to include them in the
future (Only if I find them not too intrusive). If some things can not be
accommodated in the present narration, I will try and recount them in
another series.
I try to answer the mails if and when I find them stimulating (in more
ways than one, of course). I am an extremely busy person and find it
rather difficult to answer every mail -- what with having to also write
this account at the same time. So, to all the readers that like the
narration, thank you all once again.
SS.
(The usual disclaimer remains: The material presented below is meant for
mature readers only. If you are under-age (usually 18-year-old or younger)
or are offended by descriptions of making love in ways other than the
missionary, you will be well advised to leave this site -- or skip the
message -- altogether.)
My Story (Part 4)
The afternoon was spent reading some stories that we had not finished
reading in prior occasions. And we let Nature take its own course.
Comfortable in the knowledge that there would not be any interruptions on a
summer afternoon, we did not rush ourselves this time. It is hard to
describe the sultry laziness that drapes the City of Joy during the hot
summer afternoons. It is easy to abandon oneself completely to worldly
pleasures ... from siesta to sex; and I always found sex to be more
rewarding.
We were both famished and had not realized it till we finished our lunch
-- a heavy one too -- and, after washing the dishes and the utensils, we
retired to Debi's room. They had a small twostoried house, with Debi and
her sister sharing a room on the upper floor adjoining the bathroom-lav
combination. The only other room on that floor was a small one and was
used for occasional guests -- and also housed the "shrine" for her Mother's
daily worships. Her room overlooked a wide strip of playground that the
local kids used for Soccer and Cricket. I drew the heavy curtain on the
window and turned the fan on at full speed.
Fully dressed, we sat down on Debi's bed, our backs resting against the
wall and a pile of paperbacks in front of us. Debi had the most exquisite
collection of smut, I think. We read the episodes that were new to us.
Midway through the second one -- where three teenage boys were satisfying
one of the boy's older sister in her mid twenties -- we were tweaking each
other's nipples under our blouses. By the time we finished reading that
one, our blouses were off and, mouths locked together, our bare breasts
were almost flattened against each other. We deliberately let the area
between our legs alone.
By the end of the next episode, we were caressing our naked thighs,
keeping safe distances from the nether regions. We had, by then, divested
ourselves of our outer garments. Not having bothered to put on any
undergarments after leaving the shower, that meant we were as Nature
intended us to be. Yet we took it easy ... almost as if to test our own
limits of endurance. We, of course, had moved to the cool cemented floor
to avoid soaking her bed through. The floor beneath our buttocks was
getting slippery with the proof of our arousal.
We could read no longer after having read partly through the third book
(and the sixth episode) -- where, sitting in an empty class-room, two
teenage high school buddies were pumping each other off. We had been
reading those stories for almost an hour and a half by then and had still
refrained from touching where it counted!
Wow!
Weak at the zenith of our excitement, we faced each other and opened our
legs wide. Supporting ourselves with our hands planted flat on the ground
behind us, we had our legs folded at the knees. The ceiling fan was going
at full speed, moaning a constant pitch; as if trying to cool our libidos
down just enough. Both of us were breathing heavily with our lips parted.
From under our heavy eyelids, we looked down at each other. Debi's cunt
lips were swollen and parted wide. The pink inside was filled with her
copious secretion. The nub of her clitoris was exposed at the entrance. I
looked down at myself. There was a pool right under my cunt. Although the
dense curly bush was hiding my own opening, I could still see the dark
moist crests of my own labia.
And I looked at Debi again. Our eyes met. I could see the urgency in
her huge beautiful eyes, beneath those eyelids -- droopy from her state.
"Are ... we ... ?" She panted the redundant query ...
"My god ... I am ... dying ..." I lifted my wet buttocks up slightly
and moved my cunt forward.
"Ooooooooh ... shhhhhhh .... yesssssssssssss" Debi reciprocated and
moved hers towards mine. She lifted her right leg and placed it across and
over my left thigh.
My vaginal muscles quivering in anticipation, I pushed my pelvis forward
and closer, my arched back supported with my hands planted firmly on the
ground behind.
And I immediately let out a scream -- "Aaaaaahhhngh ... oh ...
ooooooooh ..." Our cunts had made contact. My swollen clitoris was smack
against Debi's wet entrance.
We moved urgently, but very cautiously. Debi and I were already
familiar with each other to the point where we played one another like two
finely tuned instruments -- making the sweetest music. I am sure Debi had
felt the same electricity spread from her clit as I had. Both of us,
despite our extraordinarily long endurance through the self-tease, wanted
the silent crescendo to last forever ...
But, we couldn't help grinding our sexes together without any break.
When one of us would back off, the other would urge on and press forward.
When I clenched my teeth and tightened my stomach muscles and stopped
moving, Debi moved her hips in all four directions at double the rhythm,
compensating for my inaction.
"Noooooo ... Noooooo ... Ohhhh ... Damn .... I ... I ... Oh Damn
... Oh Damn ..." and I came, "Yessss, yesss ... Debi ... Debi ... do it
... do it ... do it ..."
"Me too ... I can't ... Oh ... I can't ... my god ... yeah ...
yeah ... Sharmi ... you ... oh ... you are ... sweet ... fuck ...
harder ... fuck me ... yesss ... fuck ... do it ... fuck ... do it
... fuck ... do it ...." And we continued to wring out the last bit of our
orgiastic delight from each other's dripping cunt for the next several
minutes ....
I woke up at the sound of the door-bell downstairs. I sat up straight
on the floor. We fell asleep just the way we finished. Our bodies were
still probably connected at our sexes the remainder of the afternoon.
Debi's right leg was still resting on my left; and my leg felt numb.
I quickly woke her up, "Debi ... somebody is at the door downstairs."
"Oh?!" She looked at her sprawled out naked self and muttered groggily.
"Debi! Get up ... " I almost had to pull her up, "Put something on and
go downstairs"
- 'RRRRRRRRRRNNNNG' -
That one made her stand up. She looked at me and said, "You put
something on too ... that may be Ajit!"
She quickly donned the kaameez over her naked torso and hurried out. I
kept staring at her magnificent figure that the knee-length frock betrayed.
I heard her running steps going down the two flights of stairs and thought
to myself, 'I'm totally in love ...' Then I heard Ajit's voice; and Debi's
yell -- "Sharmi, you want to come down ...?" Her voice broke my trance and
I replied back, "Won't be a minute, Debi." I liked saying her name.
When I descended upon them, they were sitting in the so-called
'drawing-room' (a room where guests and drop-by's are received), close
together on the only couch that was set against the far wall.
Ajit looked at me and grinned, "So, how are your studies coming along?"
"Oh, well ..." I did not like such questions; especially from Ajit, and
he knew it. Although he and Debi were already in the second year of
college, I did not consider them much older. So, Ajit liked to tease me
with such somber addresses. Ajit knew that I liked him. Debi knew that
too, and assumed it to be quite brotherly. Or, did she?
I could not say for sure if my attraction towards Ajit was sexual. I
later had figured it out to be due to the fact that Debi loved him and I
loved anything that she did.
We had tea and biscuits (the Indian kind) that evening and talked about
things irrelevant. I let them have some privacy by stepping out for a
stroll through the neighborhood. The evening was a little cooler with a
southwesterly wind picking up, signalling a heavy downpour. I always
enjoyed this part of the metropolis for its suburban ambiance. Few houses
were more than a couple of stories tall, with some space between them. Up
north, the houses stood in rows of three to four stories, sharing the walls
between them. Our house is one of very few that had narrow alleyways on
either side. The sky here always seemed much wider, not framed by the
outlines of old brick buildings; and, here you could track the Moon longer
on clear nights. I roamed aimlessly for about an hour and realized that it
was getting late when the old dim streetlights gained prominence. Large
droplets started striking the ground intermittently.
I drew in a chest-full of air laden with the smell of wet earth and
headed back. I had to run the last few yards. Debi and Ajit were kissing
standing under the small porch, safe from the lack of any lamp-post nearby.
Kissing within other peoples sight is never done in India. There is a more
esoteric reason for such prudence, but I'm sure this is not the place to
elaborate on it.
I startled them, for I didn't see them until I was upon them. They
almost jumped back from one another. I giggled and put them at ease. Ajit
said, "Can't you clear your throat or something?"
"What, and miss the fun?" I grinned back.
"She likes to watch, you know ..." Debi injected a little naughtiness
into it.
"Oh yeah?" Ajit grabbed the chance, "We could arrange a better show
then, couldn't we?"
"Sure ..." Debi nodded.
That's as far as our indiscretion had gone. Debi had loosely kept our
relationship from Ajit. I am not sure if he suspected anything, but he had
accepted me in Debi's life as something more than just a distant cousin --
hence the impishness between us.
"I better go" Ajit said and unfurled his umbrella. In Calcutta, come
May, everybody carries one.
We stood there and watched him disappear around the corner. The
bus-stop was on the next street. It had, by then started to pour, with a
slight wind, and we were catching the mist. It felt nice.
"Hey ... that's my boyfriend!"
I turned to Debi quizzically. "I know, I know" I mused back at her,
"But no harm in fantasizing, is there?"
"I guess not" Debi said while dragging me inside, "As long as I am part
of it."
Yes, we were more bold with each other when Ajit wasn't around. Such
fantasies had been part of our love-making for quite sometime now.
Ordinarily we would be grabbing at each other with the start of such
exchanges. That evening was a little different. I was cooled down by the
May rain. I have always felt poetic at the start of the monsoon, which is
heralded by the hurricane season in the Bay of Bengal -- and that
afternoon's sex left me satiated a little more than usual. In other words:
I felt mellow.
Debi too, I could tell, had just finished a round with Ajit. So, we
spent the rest of the evening talking and planning as an old Bengali movie
played on the TV. (That was fast becoming the weekend ritual in most
households. Calcutta was losing its wonderful evening life because of the
box.) Ajit had managed to get hold of three matinee tickets to one of the
Films that would be playing at a nearby artsy theater the next day. It was
a Hungarian movie. Debi had already forgotten the name of it.
"You know, I was indeed wondering if we could catch a movie or something
tomorrow" I said, "that would be perfect then"
"Yeah ... you can wear one my Sari's" Debi said.
"I'd rather wear the white Salwaar-kaameez that you have ... I like the
design" I told her. "So, what did you guys do?"
"Oh ... you know, the usual ..." Debi replied.
"C'mon, tell me ..." I wanted some details from her. I always got the
details from her.
"Well, he was already hard when you left, so it did not last very long
for him the first time ..." Debi was saying ...
"First time?" I interjected, "How many times did you two ....?"
"Twice ... for him ..." she explained ... "I was doing him under his
pants ... you know ... putting my hand through here ... " she gestured
at my waist ... "and he was so hard already ... so I asked what made him
so ..."
"What made him so?" I repeated.
"He was reading an English thriller ... and it had a lot of quite
explicit sex in it ... "
"So he did not jerk off?"
"No ... " Debi said, looking at me with a triumphant expression, "he
wanted to save it for us ..."
"Wow ... he loves you so ..." I was jealous and had to hide it with a
quirky comment like that.
"Well ... I stroked it lightly and he put his hands on my breasts and
came inside his pants"
"That was quick ..."
"Tell me about it ..." Debi continued, "I was already hot and I told him
so. He understood and took his hands under my skirt and did me ... and
within another five minutes he was hard again. He said rubbing me down
there made him horny. So, I took his cock out of his pants and we frigged
each other nicely. It was good ... oh ... I am exhausted today."
I bet she was. Otherwise she would be dying to recount every little
detail; and I would insist that she did, too. For that would invariably
lead to a hot session between us. That evening was different in two ways.
We have had our fill for the day, and Debi was just satiated by Ajit's
fingers.
"Me too ... " I agreed, "We should get a good sleep tonight"
"Yeah ... and I am hungry too."
We had our supper, and went to bed. Usually whenever we slept together
we had little clothing between us. That night, we didn't bother
undressing, for we knew we needed the sleep that night if we really wanted
to make something out of that weekend. I had no idea that the following
day would mark the beginning of another chapter in my already libidinous
existence.
+++++++++ (End Part 4)
(To be Continued)
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