Message-ID: <40277asstr$1041729005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Message-ID: <20030104162415.50171.qmail@www.boxfrog.com>
From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 04 Jan 2003 10:24:10 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} (RP)  My Story (Part 6) by Sharmila Sanyal
Date: Sat,  4 Jan 2003 20:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/40277>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw


Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com 

<1st attachment, "MS06.TXT" begin>

A Note from Me:

I have been told that, for the reader to be able to comprehend 
and enjoy the eroticism in My Story, I need to include a few 
explanations about certain socio- cultural aspects.  So, the 
introduction   to this part will be about those that have 
already figured in the story.  

I was addressing Debi as "Moni-di": Indians, in general, do not 
address somebody older by her/his first name.  That is 
considered rude and uncivilized.  Instead, an order of kinship 
and familial addressing system has been developed that is 
followed even between strangers.  While in some parts of India 
people are slowly moving away from such traditions, Bengal 
still follows it.  Older sister and brother are addressed as 
Didi and Dada, respectively, in Bengali.  Those are rather 
generic and usually within a family setting, extended or 
nuclear, the short suffix of -Di or -Da are used (e.g.  
Sharmila-di).  In some families, like mine, it is insisted that 
the real given name not be used as it would be tantamount to 
calling her/him by name.  So, endearingly, Debi was called 
"Moni-di" by her juniors in her family; and, since we had none 
addressed in our family by that name, we had adopted it too.  
To my juniors in our immediate extended family, I am known as 
"Shona-di".  To my more distant cousins,   I am "Sharmi-di".  
Sometimes, by the permission of the addressee, one is allowed 
to use the real name.  This also is a sign of closeness between 
the two.  Hence the change from "Moni-di" to "Debi".  

Kissing in Public: It is not so much a taboo as it is a 
question of sensitivity.  Kissing is part of the foreplay that 
leads to sex.  Lovers' kiss in India is part of an intimacy 
that is only to be enjoyed in private.  It is not as trivial as 
it is in the West.  If kissing were a taboo, it would have 
remained from the mainstream literature.  Far from it, joining 
of lips between lovers has been described by Indian poets and 
bards in exhalting details through millenia.  Thus, the mores 
against public displays of intimacy are rather esoteric, in my 
opinion.  

The Usual Disclaimer: Please do not proceed any further than 
this line if you are not an adult.  The following contains 
description of sexual intimacy between two human beings that 
care about each other.  If anything but the most missionary 
offends you, you are advised to move on.  

Feel free to write to me with your comments and any meaningful 
insights.  (anu_g42@hotmail.com)



My Story (Part 6)

	In the next few months that followed, Debi, Ajit and I 
had gotten closer -- psychologically speaking.  We would meet 
almost every other day at a coffee shop in   South Calcutta.  
Our conversations ranged from politics to sex.  Debi and I 
would strike up conversations about her sex life with Ajit and 
he would join in, describing, albeit allegorically, what they 
had done the last time.  They still had not, however,   
progressed to the essential union.  Both of them, for some 
esoteric reason, had wanted to wait more.  Nonetheless, they 
were (and I was) having fun exactly the way it was.  I took 
satisfaction in the knowledge that the only sex that Debi's 
touched was mine.  Sometimes when Ajit came in her hand too 
quickly, especially when he would have a prior exposure to some 
juicy erotica -- and Debi would not want to be just frigged -- 
she would come over to our place unannounced and surprise me.  
The surprise would spill over well into the night after the 
rest of the house fell asleep.  

	My big days came and went.  I did rather well in   the 
Joint Entrance and in my Higher Secondary.  All through that 
time I never stopped being with Debi.  Indeed, I realised later 
that, I could not have done well in my exams if I had.  I would 
have constantly thought about sex and my studies would have 
suffered.  Of course, Debi was instrumental in not allowing me 
to remain consumed with thoughts of sex.  She took charge 
during that month and never let me stay awake past midnight.  

	I got into Calcutta Medical College.  I was also accepted 
at a very reputable college down South, but, of course, decided 
to remain in Calcutta.  Debi and Ajit were by then in their 
final year of college.  Both were going to graduate with   
Bachelors in Physics.  Since my college is in the central part 
of the city, and almost next door to theirs, the Presidency, 
the three of us met everyday.  Sometimes, after college, Debi 
would come home with me and spend the night.  

	For two weeks,   right before and during the Christmas-
New Year holidays, I went away with my family to visit one of 
my aunts who lived in another city, in another state.  Needless 
to say,   during that time, I missed Debi -- my own fingers 
failing to fill the void.  I could not wait to get back to 
Calcutta.  

	 I went straight to Debi's place the same evening we were 
back.  It was a Saturday.  She quickly took me to her room, 
asked Sutapa to get lost, and closed the door.  I hugged her 
tight and kissed her on the lips.  She reciprocated by putting 
her arms around me and squeezing my buns.  I had gotten wet 
between my legs in anticipation even as I was riding the bus to 
her home.  And, now her smell made my cunt throb inside.  

	Debi broke our embrace and said, "I have something to 
show you . . ." and with that, she opened the lock to her 
personal cupboard and brought out a slender white thing that 
resembled a tooth-brush holder -- only much thicker.  It was 
about eight inches in length and an inch in diameter, with   
one end smoothly tapered; and I had a vague sense of 
familiarity with its shape that I couldn't quite put my finger 
on right away.  Debi held it up in her hand, her fist around 
the base, and it took me a few seconds to figure out what it 
was.  And then, the next moment, the apparent familiarity with 
its shape became clear.  We have had seen pictures of it -- and 
of its uses -- in certain magazines that Debi (and Ajit) so 
brazenly procured for our mutual perusal.  

"Wow, Debi . . ." I exclaimed, "where did you get THAT?!"

"Ajit's cousin brought it" Debi explained, "You know, the one 
he always talks about . . ."

"You mean . . .that Dipankar?" Ajit had talked about his cousin 
who lives in the USA.  Dipankar's parents, both architectural 
engineers, had emigrated   when Dipankar was about five.  In 
due course, they became US citizens.  He and Ajit are almost 
the same age, Dipankar being older by about six months.  

"Ajit apparently asked him to bring this for me and you" Debi 
explained, handing me the thing.  

"You mean Dipankar knows about me and you?" I asked with a 
little embarrassment.  I guess I had grown up too much and did 
not like anybody else in on our intimacy.  

"No, no . . ." Debi calmed me down, "Ajit did not tell him 
anything about you, so don't worry."

"So . . . Have you used it?" I asked, trying to figure out how 
it works.  

"No . . ." Debi took a step closer and, putting a hand over one 
of my breasts, whispered in my ears "I was waiting for you to 
get back . . . no fun alone."

"Does it need batteries?" I asked.  

"Yeah, and I have put them in." Taking the object of our 
discussion from my hand she turned it on by twisting the base.  
The thing made a low pitch noise.  

"Want to try it out now?" I was brazen.  

"You must be crazy . . . Sharmi . . ." Debi tried to pour some 
cold water on me, "You know Sutapa will be back any time.  We 
have to wait till later . . . may be tomorrow at your place?"

"And what do you think I do in the mean time?" I complained 
with genuine hurt in my voice.  

"Oh . . . Sharmi . . . you are very very naughty and 
incorrigible" Debi said, "OK let me do you . . ." with that, 
she had one of her hands inside my sari.  I reciprocated and we 
were on her bed the very next moment, rubbing each other with 
our hands.  

"Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh . . ." Debi was no less horny; her 
passage was definitely slippery.  

"So . . . you didn't want it . . . eh?" I looked into her eyes 
as I inserted one finger into her cunt.  

"God . . . I missed you . . ." Debi tweaked my clit between her 
two fingers . . .

"Oh yeah? Not as much as I did . . ." We were lying on our 
sides, facing each other, with our arms straight inside each 
other's sari, through the waist.  It was not a very comfortable 
position.  I was horny enough not to mind the slight discomfort 
I felt in my left arm, with the palm facing out at Debi's cunt.  
Debi didn't seem to mind either . . .

"You and Ajit did not frig each other all this time?" I am 
blunt when horny.  

"Did . . . oh . . . oh . . . oh . . . yes . . . faster . . . 
but . . . he . . . has been . . . rather busy . . . with his . 
. . cousin . . ." Debi was already bucking her hips at me with 
her eyes closed.  From her breathing I could tell that she was 
not going to last too long . . .

"Yesss . . . want to finish it . . . Debi . . . my Debi . . ." 
I asked while keeping a steady pressure on her clit.  

"Yess . . . Yesss . . . oh . . . yesss . . ." She whispered 
loudly, "haven't done it for a week . . . nnnngggghhhh . . . 
faster . . . rub it . . .rub it . . . my God . . . yeah . . . 
come . . . come with me . . .sweet Sharmi . . . are you ready . 
. .?"

I had been ready for the last week, too.  

"Yesss . . . I'll do it . . . I'll come . . . fuck me . . . 
with your . . . finger . . . yeah . . . like that . . . 
yyyyeaaah . . . come . . .come . . . come . . ."

	We were frantic.  In a tight embrace, our mouths locked 
as if in a vacuum and our bellies grinding against each other -
- oblivious of the cramp developing in our arms -- we spent 
with a series of shudders.  It was over as fast as it had 
started.  For the next few minutes we lay in each others arms, 
one hand still between the other's legs . . . 

There was no need for the new toy that evening! 


	Debi came to our place the next morning.  I happened to 
be downstairs and answered the door-bell.  There she was, on 
our door-step and right behind her was Apollo.  

"Hi there, Sharmi . . ." Debi was probably addressing me, "Look 
who's here with us"

Yeah . . . Debi, Ajit and Apollo.  

"Hello . . .Ajit . . ." 

"Not there, here . . ." Ajit passed a hand in front of my eyes 
. . .

"Yeah . . . Yeah . . . OK . . ." I could not take my eyes off 
Apollo.  

"This is Dipankar, my cousin" Ajit introduced Apollo.  

"Namashkaar . . .!   How are you? I mean . . .blah blah blah . 
. ." 

"Sharmi . . . Do you want us to stand here for the rest of the 
morning?" Debi interjected rather sharply.  She had to; 
otherwise I would have kept on making a fool of myself.  

	Yes!  Dipankar has the most beautiful body and the most 
handsome face to go with it.  He looked like Ajit a lot, but 
was a little taller with a head-full of wavy hair.  Ajit is a 
shade darker than Dipankar.  Ajit did not look athletic; 
Dipankar, you could tell, worked out regularly.  

	Well, you guessed it: It was 'LOOOVE' at first sight.  By 
the time we were up in my room, I was daydreaming.  Strangely 
enough, I was not wondering about Dipankar's manhood like I 
used to about Ajit's.  However, I was getting wet just the same 
-- merely thinking about him.  

	So, we got introduced to each other better once we were 
in my room.  Apparently Ajit has talked about me a lot, sans 
the intimate details (I hoped).  And Dipankar said that I 
looked even more beautiful than he had imagined.  I was 
expecting some sort of a foreign accent in his Bengali and was 
impressed to find none.  Later I learned that he visited 
Calcutta almost every year when he was in school.  We kept on 
making small talk the rest of the morning; and I kept on 
looking at him and being horny.  Debi guessed my state.  She 
took me outside and asked, "You are horny, aren't you?" What 
could I say? I nodded helplessly.  

"You want me to stay tonight?" She asked.  

"Yes, did you bring that thing with you?" I asked.  

"You know what? I did . . ." Debi smiled, "I had put it in my 
purse before I left . . . just in case . . ."  So, Debi stayed 
back for lunch and beyond.  

	It being Sunday, others in the house were settling down 
in their rooms with books and siesta while Debi and I went up 
to mine and closed the door securely.  

	The winter afternoon was pleasant; even cool for a 
typical Bengali, and my room -- being in the North of the house 
-- was chilly.  After a heavy traditional Sunday lunch, we were 
both feeling the chill even more.  I rubbed my hands together 
and looked at Debi.  She was looking just fantastic in her 
heavy saalwaar-kaameez.  Her shapely figure was accentuated by 
the loose-fitting dress that hung provocatively from her 
shoulders and over the mounds of her beautiful breasts, a 
mysterious appeal carelessly shrouded from view.  I looked at 
her eyes and she smiled back, sitting down on the bed.  I 
picked up her purse and opened the clasp.  

"Can't wait, can you?" leaning back on my bed with her hands 
supporting her torso, Debi commented at my eagerness.  

"I am 'hot' . . ." I said, "I've been looking forward to seeing 
you since yesterday, you know!"

"Just seeing me?" Debi teased me.  

"Yeah . . ." I had the 'THING' out in my hands, "and to watch 
you fuck yourself with this."    

"Let's do it tonight, Sharmi," Debi said, "I just want to 
cuddle up with you now."

"You're going to stay tonight?" I asked with excitement in my 
voice.  

"Yeah . . . my Ma knows that I am spending the night here." 

"All right . . ." I dropped the thing back inside her purse and 
got out of my skirt.  The panties followed the skirt on the 
floor and I climbed into my bed.  

"So, you want to sit there fully clothed?" I asked Debi.  

	She stood up and unbuttoned the kaameez, and I could see 
the smooth skin of the valley between her breasts.  Sensuously, 
she slipped out of it and stood there in front of me in her 
loose-fitting pants, the saalwaar, and a skimpy bra.  

"Wow!" I said with a low whistle, "when . . . where did you buy 
it?"

"At the New Market" she replied and pulled the cord of her 
saalwaar.  Stepping out of the pants -- that lay in a heap 
around her ankles -- she added, "Ajit insisted that I bought 
these; you like them?"

	Her panties, an equally skimpy piece of clothing -- if it 
could be termed as such -- matched her bra.  They barely 
covered her essentials.  The bra was designed to accentuate the 
fullness of her breasts by separating them just enough while 
supporting the globes firmly (not that they needed any extra 
support).  The upper border of the bra barely covered her large 
aureoles and the nipples started to show through the satiny 
fabric.  I guess my admiring (and eager) stare had started to 
arouse her.  The panties did nothing more than define the 
gorgeous area under her belly-button and between those slender 
shapely legs.  Not only the was the triangle of her pubic curls 
showing from either side, the awfully narrow piece, 
representing the crotch, did little to cover her labia.  She 
looked edible enough.  

"You look . . . mmmm . . . you are making me hot, Debi!" I 
said, "Did Ajit see you in this . . . of course not.  All you 
two do is . . ." 

"Soon . . . pretty soon." She said and crawled into the bed 
beside me.  

I grabbed the comforter and covered ourselves with it.  Debi's 
skin felt nice and warm against mine and we lay there for a 
while on our back, our bodies barely touching along the lengths 
of our arms.  Debi wore a light perfume -- a mildly seductive 
fragrance of Gardenia.  Well, some would argue against that and 
would insist that Gardenia does not smell seductive, but -- 
mixed with her natural scent -- on Debi it did.  

"Dipankar is beautiful, isn't he?" Debi spoke her mind finally.  

"Oh . . .hmmm." I sighed my response.  "But Ajit is handsome 
too, Debi." I made sure she was reminded.  

"Sure . . . I know that, but Dipankar is . . . I don't know . . 
. like . . . like . . ."

"Apollo?" I finished her sentence.  

"Apollo! You are right!" She said.  Then she propped herself up 
beside me and, looking into my eyes, asked, "you are totally 
gone, aren't you?"

I put my arm around her neck and said, "But why would he be 
interested in a poor Bengali lass when he can date those blue-
eyed blondes in America?" 

"Don't be coy . . . you . . . you," Debi said, "you know any 
man would give his right arm to be able to be with you.  God, I 
haven't seen a more beautiful girl!" She planted a kiss on my 
lips.  

"Don't exaggerate Debi! Look at yourself in the mirror?" I 
always got embarrassed at such things from Debi.  

"OK may be I have," she said with a chuckle and, pushing her 
thigh between my legs, added, "but that does not disprove what 
I just said." 

"How would you know? You're not a man."

"No.  I'm not.  But when did that start bothering you?" Debi 
sounded hurt.  

"Oh, Debi . . . I love you so much.  You know what I meant." I 
said, pulling her thigh in towards me.  

"Yeah . . . I know, I know . . . you need a big hard dick! I 
was just teasing.  No, seriously, Ajit is always talking about 
you." Debi said, her soft hand gently passing over my breasts 
under my blouse, "If it were about someone else, I would have 
been mad."

"So you don't mind him admiring me?" I nuzzled my face up under 
her chin and whispered.  

"Not at all . . . indeed it would be fun . . . me and you . . . 
and Ajit . . ." 

	We were well into our lurid mood.  I freed myself from 
her and propped myself up on my side, facing Debi, just as she 
was.  Our nipples touched, sending a mild shock through my 
body.  I closed my eyes and stuck my tongue out; and I felt the 
tip of hers touching mine.  We lay on our sides, our bodies 
touching only at our nipples through the fabrics.  We played 
with our tongues.  

"Aaaah . . . " Debi exhaled, "I wish Ajit was here with us." I 
always let her begin the fantasizing.  Even at the height of my 
arousal, I managed to keep my senses about.  I didn't want to 
risk anything that we had.  One never knows how and when 
resentments on such things creep in.  Once she started, I went 
along with it, never showing too much ardor.  I fantasized 
about Ajit a lot.  He had been a predominant subject -- albeit 
never without Debi -- during my solo sessions.  That afternoon 
another face kept appearing alongside; and I could not let it 
go.  

"And, Dipankar . . ." I let my fantasy be known.  

"Yes . . ." Debi looked into my eyes and betrayed herself, 
"they both would be doing us . . . ooohhh . . . it's . . . it's 
. . ."

"So hot!" I finished her sentence and drew myself closer to her 
body.  I pushed one of my thighs between her legs.  My wet lips 
touched her skin -- sending a shiver across my belly and up to 
my breasts.  

"We would take turn sucking their cocks and they would suck our 
pussies . . ." Debi continued and reached between our bellies 
to pull the crotch of her panties to one side.  Her bare cunt 
made contact with my thigh.  Lying on our sides in a tight 
embrace, we started pushing our hips, gentle delight from the 
soft wet friction pervading our senses in the slow rhythm.  We 
moaned and whispered our fantasies into each other's ears as we 
received pleasure from just being there in each other's arms -- 
breasts to breasts, belly to belly -- cunts pressed against 
thighs.  After a while we stopped saying anything.  We just 
breathed and purred into each other's mouths as we rocked and 
we squirmed for the whole afternoon without climaxing.  

	That was indeed a first for us and it felt good; so good 
that, without having to say a word to that effect thus far, 
both of us knew that we didn't want to reach orgasm.  When we 
finally broke embrace, we were virtually breathless.  Our 
breathing during the past couple of hours had accelerated to 
such a pace that we felt light-headed.  

"Ohhh!" Debi spoke after a while, "I feel like doing it into 
the night like this!" We were lying on our backs looking at the 
white ceiling.  It was already getting dark.  I looked at the 
table-clock beside my bed.  It was half-past-four! 

"I know . . . I don't want to open the door tonight." I said; 
and as I caressed the inside of her thigh with my fingers, I 
could feel the linen under my buttocks getting wet from my 
juices running down along the crease.  It was a giddiness that 
I was almost afraid to let go -- a feeling that I wished would 
last for an eternity.  Debi felt the same way.  She expressed 
it just the way I would have:

"I don't want to finish it," she said.  There was -- is -- no 
better way to express it.  

	We didn't want to leave the room and for the first time 
ever I realized the functionality of an attached bathroom.  
When I opened the door, my brother was standing there . . . 
about to knock.  He is just about a year older than me and we 
have always been quite close.  He looked at me quizzically and 
announced that Ma was worried that we were sleeping so late on 
a winter afternoon.  I did not say anything meaningful and 
simply brushed past him towards the bathroom.  

	That night, with the unfulfilled tension held over since 
the afternoon, we fucked each other with the vibrator till the 
battery gave up.  It was definitely a new sensation, but I 
cannot say I liked the thing immensely.  Nothing matches a warm 
mouth and a tongue or a real finger. However, the very idea of 
using a vibrator -- of which so much have been made in photo 
shoots and other erotica -- made us horny.  I must admit that 
it felt good on the clit when I touched it very lightly.  

	As we put the humming vibrator inside our cunts, we 
whispered our fantasies into to each other about Ajit and 
Dipankar fucking us both, taking turns; and that Ajit and 
Dipankar were watching us masturbating.  We imagined them 
jerking off together as spectators -- and every other 
conceivable lurid scenarios.  

	Picturing them naked together and masturbating was what 
drove us over the peak and we climaxed blissfully, panting and 
huffing our wild fantasies into each others cunts.  And, 
somewhat ungratefully, we hardly gave the vibrator a second 
glance before we fell asleep for that night.  

***

	Our colleges reopened in the first week of January and 
Debi, Ajit and I started meeting up everyday as usual.  
Dipankar had left just before that.  It was actually an 
official visit for him.  He is an engineer by profession and 
was sent to Calcutta on business by his firm.  I met him about 
twice since that morning, and he promised to return that summer 
for a longer visit.  Debi and I now started including him 
regularly -- along with Ajit -- in our fantasies during love 
making.  We discovered that the images of two boys in their 
twenties pleasuring us simultaneously drove us crazy with lust.  
Then we also discovered that we liked to fantasize about Ajit 
and Dipankar engaged in masturbation with each other.  It drove 
Debi especially wild.  I knew already that Debi was also quite 
impressed with Dipankar's good looks; and after a while I was 
convinced of the physical effect he had on her.  

	It was during one such wild fantasizing session in the 
intimate privacy of our room that Debi decided to let me in on 
a secret.  A secret that she had apparently kept from me till 
then, apprehensive of my reaction.  

"You want to know about Dipankar?" She said.  I was lying flat 
on my back and she was on her side with one thigh over my legs, 
caressing my breasts with a gentle massage.  We had just 
finished each other off with our fingers.  

+++++++++ end of part 6 (to be continued)

   
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+