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From: "Sharmila Sanyal"@www.boxfrog.com
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 04 Jan 2003 10:21:45 -0600
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Subject: {ASSM} My Story (Part 5)
Date: Sat,  4 Jan 2003 21:10:19 -0500
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Sharmila Sanyal
please reply to anu_g42@hotmail.com 

<1st attachment, "MS05.TXT" begin>

I have received some letters wondering about my reluctance in 
elaborating upon certain social paradigms. I deliberately 
refrained from such explanations hoping that the unspoken would 
add to the exotic. I am not sure if even now I want to explain 
such things as "kinships" and "customs of intimacy". May be those 
that are left wondering would find it worth their while to 
discover more about my beloved country (which has a lot to offer 
besides "smuts") by themselves. However, I am not totally opposed 
to the idea. Given enough interest among the readers, I may 
venture into the task of familiarizing my readers with the 
relevant Indian (specifically Bengali) socio-cultural aspects. 
Till then, enjoy My Story as it is narrated. Please feel free to 
write back with any corrections in my language and/or comments 
that you may find appropriate. 


USUAL DISCLAIMER: Those that are offended by sex, are disturbed by 
images of humans enjoying sex and those that fear blindness (or 
excessive acne) are advised not to read past this disclaimer. 
People not belonging to the "Mature" category of beings (18 years 
or younger, where applicable) are PROHIBITED beyond this point. 



 My Story (part 5) by Sharmila Sanyal

 	Debi was awake before I was. She had already had a sumptuous 
breakfast ready when she woke me up with a sensuous kiss. She is 
usually slightly horny when she wakes up in the morning. I haven't 
ever felt particularly amorous before I have had a chance to 
brush, shower and answer Nature's call (not essentially in that 
order). Even in the coldest of mornings, I have to have a shower 
before I am fully myself. Debi was caressing my breasts and 
kissing me on my lips. I pushed her away . . . 

"Debi . . . don't . . . let me . . ." I said with some urgency. 

 	Debi put her arms around me and, bringing her mouth to my 
earlobes, whispered sensually, "You look and smell sexy when you 
wake up." Of course, till this day I do not believe that. 

"Whatever . . . I have to freshen up . . ." I said, planting a 
light kiss on her cheek. 

	Debi had prepared two huge omlettes and we had them with 
toasts. We were re-energized for another amorous day. My cousin 
was excited that we were going out for a movie that afternoon with 
Ajit. Indian parents rarely allowed too much public display of 
relationships with boyfriends. So, going out with Ajit used to be 
rather restricted for Debi too. Going to movies happened once a 
month. I suppose, Debi was also pleased that I was going with them 
(no matter how strange that might seem to some). 

	We took the morning very easy. We went out for a little 
while and were back by about ten, before it got too hot outside. 
Once back home, Debi and I shut all the windows to keep the heat 
out. This is almost a ritual in Calcutta during the summer days. 
The shade inside made it cool; and I started feeling the usual 
stir between my legs. We stayed downstairs and in the living room. 
We took off all our clothes and lay on the floor slowly caressing 
one another. I got on top of Debi and, with my legs, I parted her 
thighs. Our tongues playing with each other, the doors to the 
caves between our legs were slowly opening wider. The passages 
were coming alive and, with each gentle thrust of our pelvis, 
getting more lubricated. 

	Debi shifted under me and pulled one knee up so that our 
cunts were now making full contact with each other's upper thighs. 
I could feel her wet lips there and my own inside throbbed. She 
grabbed my buttocks and pulled me tighter against her. We rocked 
together, our breasts almost flat against the other's, our nipples 
getting harder. We rocked, and rocked, and rocked . . . taking it 
easy and enjoying each other through every pore of our bodies. The 
ceiling fan kept moaning above us, as if egging us on to reach our 
climax . . . 

	We finished it off by going into a sixty-nine. And we lay 
there, with our heads resting comfortably on each other's inner 
thighs. Although I came blissfully, Debi's odor made me stay at 
the height of my excitement even longer. I tried to lick her 
again, but she was too sensitive there and begged me to stop. My 
god, it was hard for me to give up that urge to lap up her tasty 
juice. I remained in that suspended state of excitement and 
decided to make the night wild. 

	We reached the cinema about fifteen minutes before the show 
was scheduled to start and I was a little surprised to find a lot 
more than the usual number of people waiting to get in. Usually 
the artsy foreign films do not attract too many patrons. 

	Ajit was waiting for us at the entrance to the lobby. He was 
wearing pajamas and a dark-colored panjabi (Kurta, in Hindi). He 
was his usual handsome self. I felt a tightening in the area just 
above my pubis. A radiant smile broke out on Debi's face and she 
looked even more beautiful. 'They are perfect for each other,' I 
thought to myself. We were both wearing saris. Sari made me look 
rather mature. As Debi walked quickly up to him, I remained a few 
paces behind. As I was passing a group of young boys, I could hear 
them inhale. One let out a muted whistle. 

	We bought some fresh roasted peanuts and three bottles of 
ThumsUp before entering the lobby. I had been there before with 
Debi. The inside of the old theater was fairly big, with about 
seven hundred seats arranged in three columns. 

	A group of four guys in their early twenties and a lightly 
made-up beautiful woman in a rather strikingly plain Salwaar 
Kammez brushed past us at the entrance to the auditorium. She 
looked at me and smiled, somewhat stunning me with her perfect set 
of teeth. I wondered for a while and then remembered having seen 
her in a few movies. Debi confirmed and added that she lived in 
the neighborhood. The 'Star' will remain unnamed, since she is now 
quite famous on the silver screen. 

	 We had our seats in the last row of the balcony. I 
commented on the price of the tickets, and Ajit said reassuringly, 
"Don't worry about it; a friend of mine managed to get these for 
half the price."

	I looked around and found very few sitting in the balcony. 
The balcony tickets are expensive and not many want to pay the 
premium. There were two guys in their late teens sitting in front 
of us, one seat over to my left. A daintily dressed couple sat a 
few seats down to my left in our row, which was right beside the 
short wall that defined the entrance. Ajit took the aisle seat 
with Debi on his left; and I sat beside Debi. 

	I still remember the name of the film. It was by Zoltan 
Fabri, titled "The Peddler". Pretty soon it was apparent why the 
crowd was thicker than usual at the cinema. Indian film-goers 
rarely saw such open sex in films! And this one had more than a 
few of those with frontal shots. So, when the first 'hot' scene 
came up, the shuffling noises inside the hall were hardly 
unexpected. Shocking? Maybe, but unexpected it was not. 

	The lead guy, a burly cop (?) in his forties, was being 
given a fantastic blow job by the hooker whom he was supposed to 
be booking. As her head bobbed up and down on his lap, she had her 
shapely breasts out for him to fondle (and for the entranced 
spectators to see). Perfectly round and taut -- and capable of 
making any woman envious -- they were by no means ordinary. I am 
not sure if implants were as commonplace then, but people wonder 
these days about similar perfections. Such skepticism aside, I 
have the privilege of knowing women with attributes that rival any 
augmentation. As I recollect, this person of presumable ill-repute 
did not lack the necessary appeal otherwise. As just her face 
filled the screen, sounds of collective inhalation and low 
whistling inside the cinema testified to that. 

	Indian boys are known to jack off watching scantily clad 
heroines and vamps doing suggestive dance numbers in those wildly 
popular Bollywood films. So, in anticipation, I looked at the two 
boys sitting in front of us, my own juices having started to flow. 
The boy on the right looked around furtively. He adjusted on his 
seat and leaned slightly left. His left shoulder moved and, after 
some more movement from the other boy, settled into a slow and 
regular undulating motion. I had never been witness to 
masturbation by the other sex, but I did not find it hard to 
imagine what they might be doing or trying to do. My musings made 
the situation - between my legs - worse. 

	Without being too obvious I looked to my right; I saw both 
Debi and Ajit staring straight ahead. Debi had that familiar look 
in her face. I wondered what they would have been up to had I not 
been sitting next to them. Suddenly I felt like the proverbial 
'fifth wheel'. My own arousal notwithstanding, I started feeling 
rather lousy . . . and a bit resentful of those two beside me! 

	I looked in the other direction. The couple sitting to my 
left were hunched towards each other. They were kissing! I could 
not help but stare. I saw the woman's hand moving in his lap in a 
deliberate up and down motion. 

	I looked away and at the screen. The screen was filled with 
the man's face, contorted in pleasure. His fast, heavy breathing 
and the "Ah's", mixed with the slurping sound of his cock being 
sucked on were heard through the speakers around us; and pretty 
soon he came. So did a few others in that hall, I am sure. The two 
boys in my front had been going at it quite gently; and they 
stopped, each leaving his hand on the other's lap. I squeezed my 
thighs tightly as little doubt remained about what they were 
doing! 

	Debi's breathing was audible and I wished I could pleasure 
her sitting right there. I took my left hand to my waist and 
inserted it from there and under my sari. I found the elastic of 
my panties and my hand found its way under it. I was soaked there. 
Lightly I touched myself, hoping that Debi would not notice me 
engaged in masturbation. I was not a little emboldened by the 
general ambience inside the theater. 

'If only he was not with us!' I remember thinking. 

 	It was not long before another explicit scene erupted across 
the screen. The wife had invited the 'peddler' in and, one thing 
leading to another, they found themselves in the bedroom. Some 
very passionate kissing and necking melted into the shot of them 
having wild sex. My first exposure to explicit coitus on film! 

	The man was leaning his back against the head-board and the 
woman was riding him completely naked with her back towards him. 
She was kneeling astride his waist. In the subdued light of her 
bedroom, a close-up shot showed her looking down and presumably 
reaching with her hand to guide the man into her. The action, 
though hidden from the audience's view, could not have been more 
erotically conceived. I heard a few loud gasps even at this. I 
guess everybody else heard them too, for Debi placed her left hand 
over my right and gave a knowing squeeze. I looked in her 
direction and my eyes almost automatically followed past her face 
and to where her other hand was. It was on Ajit's lap! 

	It was actually out of sight! It was inside Ajit's pajamas! 
Ajit was staring straight ahead at the screen. I clenched my teeth 
and dug the two fingers of my left hand deeper into my dripping 
cunt. The muscles inside pulsated around my digits. 

Debi was doing it to him . . . right there . . . in the hall . . . 
while I was sitting right beside her! 

 	The woman on the screen had started to grind her hips in an 
up-down and sideways motion, otherwise described as gyration. The 
man reached around her front and started rubbing her clit, his 
legs spread slightly apart and out towards us. We could not see 
his cock, but could almost see her vaginal lips under the thick 
triangle of her pubic hair. She was doing him rather gently at 
first . . .. 

	I looked back at Debi. She was enjoying the scene. Sensing 
my stare, she turned her head and looked into my eyes. Then, 
without letting Ajit go, she leaned towards me and whispered "How 
do you like it?"

"My god" I replied, "I never imagined . . . and you are enjoying a 
whole lot I see."

"Yeah . . . " she whispered again, "Do you see the two in front of 
you? They are really doing it hard"

	I had not looked at them since this scene had started. Debi 
was right, the two were jerking each other off in full swing. I 
guess they were too excited to even remember that there were 
people around. Then again, from the various sounds that we could 
hear from around the cinema, they were not the only ones that 
could not help themselves. This film, to us, was the next best 
thing to a porn. 

	The seats being staggered, one of them was sitting slightly 
to my left. Slightly craning my neck, I could see his trousers 
were open in the front and his friend had the hard manhood out and 
in his fist. He was massaging it vigorously while himself being 
rewarded for it by his friend. My first glimpse at an adult male 
principle -- albeit poorly lit -- live; and that too in its full 
glory! I felt my vaginal muscles squeezing my fingers a few times 
in response. 

I turned to Debi and whispered, "The couple on the other side were 
kissing a while back"

"Kissing!" Debi said under her breath, "My god! She is sucking 
him!" 

 	Obviously she could see past me. I turned my head around 
rather slowly. I need not have been worried about being discovered 
looking at them, for the guy's head was thrown back and he was 
breathing through his mouth, his eyes closed. His partner was bent 
over towards him, her back to us, and her face was buried in his 
lap. I remember being amused at the thought of their rather 
perfect clothes suffering greatly from the consequence of such a 
public naughtyness. 

	I had to jerk my fingers out of my cunt. It was getting hard 
to resist. Debi had not noticed earlier, but the sudden movement 
of my hand under my sari drew her attention. Figuring out what I 
was up to and she offered her hand, "Let me do it.."

"Are you crazy . . .?" I said in a whisper, "Ajit . . ."

"Never mind him . . . look" and she gestured towards herself. 

	Ajit's left hand was inside her sari too. I had missed it 
before since Debi had carefully concealed his hand with the 
'aanchal' of her sari. 

	I smiled, grabbed her left hand and guided it to my stomach 
in silent approval. She deftly wiggle her hand inside and it 
touched my wet fingers. Guiding it to my moist opening, I left the 
rest to her, my hand just resting on hers while she pleasured me. 
I looked in her direction again. Our eyes met. I saw the familiar 
naughty glitter in her glazed-over eyes. 

 	Ajit was leaning slightly towards Debi to allow himself 
better control over what he was doing under her sari. He appeared 
rather calm for somebody getting jerked off by his girlfriend . . 
. his lips were slightly parted and I noticed him periodically 
closing his eyes; nothing more than that to give him away. Not 
that it mattered, for he was well-shielded from the aisle by the 
short wall. The usher, who normally hovers around with his 
penlight turned on, were nowhere to be seen. There was one short 
row of seats behind us, and that was empty. The row of seats one 
over and across the aisle was occupied by the actress and her 
companions. They were all sitting very low in their seats and I 
could only see the crowns of their heads. Despite my preoccupation 
with what was going on between the three of us, I couldn't help 
but wonder what THEY were up to. 

	The auditorium was alive with the sounds of the love making 
on the screen, mingled with those being generated by some of the 
members of the audience in various states of excitement. I myself 
was breathing rather heavily, and audibly. Despite the usual 
Bengali pedanticism about sex, a sense of helpless abandon 
pervaded the theater. 

	I wanted to lean over and kiss my cousin. It was a strange 
feeling . . . as if we were engaged in a threesome. I could almost 
feel Ajit through Debi. I wanted to do what he was doing to her. 
Regardless of the state I was in, I could not penetrate the thin 
veil that separated me from him. I reminded myself that I loved 
Debi too much to risk it. 

	So, I satisfied myself by caressing her hand that was 
engaged between my thighs. Our fingers played a delicate 
instrument there; and I could sense the rhythm from Ajit's hand 
transmitting through her and to our intertwined fingers. My other 
hand wanted to reach out and touch her breasts. And again I 
refrained from intruding. 

	The woman on the screen was riding the man in a frenzy. The 
full frontal shot in the semi-dark bedroom showed her small firm 
breasts quivering as she gyrated her hips, the man rubbing her at 
the apex of the dark triangle. Her head thrown back, she was 
screaming out her approach. The man was bucking his hips up and 
down, his face hidden from the camera. 

	The boys sitting in front row were visibly nearing their 
climax. I could see their hands moving faster and faster. As I 
momentarily looked back at Debi and whispered to look at them, 
Debi glanced in their direction and, clutching my pubis with a 
little extra vigor, announced, "Oh . . . my . . . he is . . .. 
comming . . ." (literally translated: "Oh . . . my . . . the boy . 
. . its happening !")

 	I immediately jerked my head back in that direction, a sense 
of momentary disappointment taking over at the prospect of missing 
the show. 

I did not. 

	The boy, whose erect member I was able to see, was still 
shooting his white semen out under the expert pumping action of 
his friend's left hand. 

That was another first for me . . . 

	The force of his ejaculation sent the first few spurts above 
and over the empty seat in front. The boy was visibly exhausted; 
and as his friend continued to pump him, his flow reduced to globs 
trickling down the head and onto his friend's fist, he let is head 
slump back on the back of the seat. 

It could not have been sooner. 

	Immediately after that, the fucking on the screen was rudely 
interrupted by the woman's toddler daughter, hugging her doll, 
barging in on them. 

Yeah! They had not locked the door! 'Serves them right. . .', I 
remember regarding in utter disappointment transmuting to a sense 
of ire towards them. It was hard to tell who was more disappointed 
. . . the woman -- so close to her climax -- or the people, that 
were so in tune with the scene this side of the screen. The let 
down at that stage was too much for some to bear . . . and it was 
almost palpable. 

	In truth, we really did not need any stimulation from the 
movie anymore. We were in our own world of sexual bliss. The three 
of us carried gently on and on, with Ajit coming first. As Debi 
announced in my ear about his reaching the finish line, I couldn't 
hold back any longer. More than the sex on the screen, the thought 
of Debi's fist around Ajit's throbbing manhood pushed me over the 
crest. I closed my eyes and came, holding our two hands between my 
thighs in a vise-grip. Debi needed a little more fingering from 
him and she climaxed with carefully controlled convulsions. A few 
more scenes showing explicit and simulated sex had come and gone, 
undoubtedly bringing the rest of the audience some satisfaction; 
but I didn't even bother to follow the rest of the movie. I was in 
heaven. The invisible barrier that Ajit had unknowingly erected 
between me and Debi, had finally started to crumble. 

	There wasn't much of the movie left when we finished. Like I 
said: the 'goings on' on the screen were meaningless to me once 
our 'threesome' got going in full swing. I think the same was true 
for Debi and Ajit. We caught our breath and spent the rest of the 
time in the soft darkness rearranging our clothes. The odor of 
male and female exudates, mixed with a sweaty smell, filled the 
air inside. When the credits started rolling and the lights came 
on slowly -- matching the mood of the audience -- we looked around 
us and discovered that the couple on my left had already left. As 
we were making our exit, I noticed some guys trying to hide the 
wet spots in their clothes with their hands strategically placed 
in front of them. Some had their shirts out of their pants. Not a 
few of the women had their saris rather badly crumpled. The 
ushers, standing at the gate, gave them the knowing smirk and made 
some remarks to each other under their breaths. The women tried to 
ignore them but the color on their cheeks gave away their 
embarrassment. The very public nature of what we had been a part 
of made me horny again. 

	Ajit and Debi looked at each other with naughty satisfied 
smiles at the bus-stop. He also looked at me and said, "So . . . 
how was it?" It was a question equivocal in obvious naughtiness; 
and, looking straight at his eyes, I knew that that's exactly what 
he intended it to be. 

I replied, albeit with another, "How did YOU like it?" 

He looked at Debi and said, "Oh . . . it was marvelous . . . the 
movie, I mean". 

Debi hugged me from the side and said, "Sharmi loved it -- I know 
. . . the movie, too?" Then she broke out in laughter. 

"I did, too . . . you'll have to fill me in about the story later" 
I said, and then added, "Are you leaving now?"

"He has to" Debi answered for him, "He needs to freshen up". I 
thought I was a little disappointed at that. God! What was I 
thinking! What did I expect from Ajit's coming back to the house 
with us?! I reproved myself for letting my lurid imagination run 
amok. 

 	The bus came soon and Ajit clamored in along with a bunch of 
other movie goers. It was already crowded and I thought to myself 
that they wouldn't need explain their disheveled clothes at their 
destinations. I thought about my experience the day before and 
felt my stomach muscles tighten as the bus pulled away. 

"I am ready again, if you are" I told her as we left the bus-stop. 

"I know . . ." Debi squeezed my hand and said, "me too . . . "

" I want to know everything" I urged her by squeezing her hand 
back. 

"Oh boy, he was holding my hand and when that scene started he 
pulled it to his lap," Debi described, "I felt it had swelled, so 
I started squeezing it through his panjabi and the pajamas . . ."

"And it got more hard . . .?" I was already breathing heavily. 

"Oh yeah . . . right under my hand; and I got sooo wet! Ajit then 
pulled up his panjabi and loosened the cord of his pajamas. I 
figured what he wants. Put my hand inside and then under the 
'jaangia' (Bengali for 'briefs'). It was sooo hard . . . like 
steel. I started to pull it out; but he stopped me. I guess he did 
not want to mess up his clothes on the outside. So I held it 
inside his jaangia and massaged . . ."

"Was its head pointing up?" The details . . . I wanted the 
details. I needed to know the details to fully become a part of 
the threesome. 

"No, silly . . . then it would spurt out and on his panjabi, 
wouldn't it!" Debi explained -- a slight hint of condescension in 
her voice, "the head was down between his legs . . . Ooooh . . . 
it was really hot . . ."

"Then . . . ?" My clit was getting a gentle massage with every 
step that I took. I couldn't care less about sounding naive. So I 
was -- for all practical purposes -- and Debi knew it. 

"He put his hand inside my sari, of course, and started doing me." 
Debi said almost in a whisper, lest the passers by should be 
scandalized; not that anybody could hear anything over the din of 
the usual evening crowd and the honkings. 

"Oooh . . . Debi . . .. I am hot . . .. again!" I let her know. 

"I know. I figured by just looking at you," Debi assured me. "So? 
You want to do it here?" She added with a naughty chide in her 
voice. 

 	I must admit -- I never knew that I had a little 
exhibitionist in me -- the idea did not seem too bizarre to me 
then. Indeed, like I said before, I had discovered just a short 
while back the eroticism inherent in doing it in public. While the 
idea was extremely appealing, we certainly could not venture into 
making it real. So, we waited till we were alone at Debi's. Once 
inside, she quickly closed the front door even as I was taking my 
sari off. 

	We went into the living room and Debi closed the windows. 
Through the wooden shutters, twilight filtered into the otherwise 
darkened room. I was standing in the middle of the room in my 
petticoat and blouse. Debi turned around and looked at me with 
tender lust. My heart fluttered in anticipation. I wanted her 
right then. I wanted to smell her and I wanted to smell Ajit on 
her. As she approached me I grabbed her hands in mine and lifted 
them up to my face . . . I covered my nose in her palm. 

Aaaah . . . Ajit's and my own odor mingled from her two palms and 
into my nostrils. I felt my cunt throb, soaking my panties some 
more. 

	Cupping my face in her palms, Debi kissed me on the lips. As 
I parted them, her tongue darted in, caressing my teeth and then 
playing with mine. I reached around her back with both arms and 
drew her to me. My fingers found the hooks that held her 
sleeveless blouse and I undid them one by one. She reciprocated by 
undoing mine from the front. We were still standing in each 
other's arms; and Debi was still fully clothed. I presumed she 
didn't want to dash at it. It was just fine with me, for I could 
feel my juices running down the inside of my thighs. The thin 
fabric of the panties could hold only so much! As much as my 
orgasm was just a finger's touch away, I did not want it to be 
over just yet. I have forever been a sucker for gentle and 
prolonged sex. Not that there haven't been occasions and needs for 
quickies -- solo or otherwise -- but, following one, I am almost 
always left with a sense of non-fulfillment (is there such a word? 
If not, consider it coined; for there isn't a better word in my 
vocabulary). 

	Debi pushed my blouse aside and unclasped my bra with one 
hand, passing it with a feather-touch from my nipple to nipple. 
Already engorged, they now firmed up and became erect. The third 
throbbed between my legs, begging to be touched. I stiffened every 
muscle in my body and ignored it. Oh . . . was it ever tough! 
Indeed, I had to keep my thighs adequately apart to keep my love-
button from receiving any involuntary attention. 

	It seemed like an eternity before Debi broke her embrace and 
withdrew her tongue from my mouth. Both of us gasped for air, 
surfacing from the depth of our mutual desire. She tugged at the 
cords of my petticoat and it fell to the floor in a neat heap 
around my ankles. I took my blouse and the bra off. Then I simply 
tugged at her sari that was neatly tucked into her petticoat, and 
it came undone almost all at once. She hurriedly undid the chords 
and slipped out of the rest of the garments. The next moment, we 
were again standing in a tight embrace; this time ,though, only a 
thin film of sweat -- beside my panties, drenched at the crotch -- 
was all that separated our bodies. 

	My nipples rubbed against her's and they seemed to swell 
further and become more stiff, if that were possible. They were 
sending off sparks in every direction, as we moaned into each 
other's ears. 

"That movie was . . . terrific . . . wasn't it?" Debi moaned, 
trying to part my legs with her thighs. She wanted to do it 
standing. 

"Oh . . . yesss . . . Debi . . . and . . . you frigged . . . Ajit 
. . . seeing that! Didn't you . . . ?" I said, holding my ground 
with my feet firmly planted on the cold cement floor. I did not 
want any part of her to touch me there! Not even the fabric of my 
panties would then prevent the inevitable. 

"Yessss . . . yesss . . . oh . . . it was hard and warm . . . and 
he came inside his jaangia . . .. " Debi kept saying, still trying 
to get to my cunt with her thighs, "and I did you . . . in there . 
. . it was so hot . . . that way . . ."

"It was hot . . . Debi . . . let me do you now . . . " I begged, 
"I want to . . . so much . . . sweet Debi . . ."

"I want to do you too, Sharmi . . ." Debi insisted. 

"I am too hot right now" I whispered, "I will come right now if 
you touch me."

	Debi understood and, breaking our embrace, stood back a 
little. Holding my breasts in her hands, she stooped and took one 
of the erect nipples between her teeth. I clutched her hair and 
cried out in pleasure - "Oh my . . . Debi . . . nnnnngh . . .. 
aaaaahhhhh . . .. God . . . ohhhh!" With that I pulled her down on 
the floor. 

	She lay on her back, her firm well-rounded breasts quivering 
in anticipation. The two dark aureoles, capped by swollen hard 
nipples, beckoned me urgently. I crawled on top of her -- 
supporting my torso on my elbows -- my two legs resting slightly 
apart between hers. 

	I looked into her eyes as our nipples met, once again 
sending ripples of electricity through my naked form. She closed 
her eyes and parted her lips. I dove into it with my tongue and 
sealed it with my lips, making an 'O' around hers. I flicked my 
tongue around inside her mouth. She played with it with her own. 
Mixed together, the saliva was an aphrodisiac! 

	She brought her hands up and, supporting her breasts from 
the sides, gently rubbed her nipples against mine. They were 
aching . . . as if ready to burst . . .. 

	I slid down along her perspiring body and buried my face 
into the soft valley. She smelled wonderful, with her perfume . . 
. her sweat . . . her arousal mingling into the familiar aroma of 
excitement. I inhaled and bathed my senses in it. Then, propping 
myself up again, I took her nipples in my mouth, taking turn and 
lingering on each. I would circle the aureoles with my lips, and 
then gradually let it slide back till the nipple positioned itself 
between my lips. I would suck hard and then lightly bite on it . . 
. 

	We had learned to pleasure each other over the past several 
months. Some of it were gathered through erotica, both English and 
Bengali; but, mostly, we discovered our bodies mutually. 
Wonderfully, though, despite our knowledge of each other's body 
and its pleasures, we rediscover each other every time. We have 
never failed to surprise each other. 

"Ohhhhhnnnnng . . . Aaaaaaah . . .. Sharmi . . .. Ooooh . . .." 
Debi started to moan. She clasped the small of my back with her 
legs and started to rock . . . thrusting her pelvis towards me . . 
. almost pathetically making futile attempts at trying to make her 
cunt make contact with my belly. Even in that state of my own 
arousal I felt in control. I was in charge of the schedule. I 
would decide when she spent . . . when we spent . . . 

	Even as I was raising the heat in Debi, I was wetting the 
floor directly beneath my cunt with my more-than-copious juice 
seeping through the thin fabric that clung to my crotch. I took a 
hand between our bellies and moved it down between her legs. Her 
cropped silky thatch, slippery wet from my secretion, was 
plastered against her pubis. I slid the hand slightly further down 
and, parting the swollen lips, inserted two fingers inside. Her 
juice, having welled up in the tunnel, immediately flooded my hand 
up to the wrist. I started a slow ,and deliberate motion . . . 
wiggling my fingers with every stroke. . . 

"My . . . Ahhhhh . . .. God . . .. Sharmi . . . yesss . . .. yes" 
Debi arched her back and shouted her approval. 

"Mmmmmmm . . .. " is all I responded with, my mouth busy at her 
breasts. 

"Oh . . . oh . . . Sharmi . . . Sharmi . . . Sharmi . . . my God . 
. . I . . . I . . . ooooof . . . oooof . . . nnnnng . . . I can't 
. . . stand . . . it . . . anymore . . ." Debi moaned and crooned 
and undulated. 

	It was getting harder and harder for me to keep my cool. I 
had to struggle to keep my thighs from coming together upon my 
low-set clit. But, even as Debi gyrated her hips in rhythm, 
matching that of my digits, I grew more and more determined to 
take her to the nadir and show her that what Ajit could do, I 
could do better. My love for her and my envy towards her beating 
me to a cock complemented each other, I think. 

"Sharmi! My Sharmi . . . do it . . . do me. Fuck me . . .. fuck me 
. . . ooooooof . . . . . nnnnnng . . .. fuck me . . .. frig . . . 
frig . . . frig me . . . yesssssss . . .. yes . . . yes . . . " 
Debi's whole body was flailing under me . . . her back arching . . 
. her hips moving up and down, and sideways . . . forming a wave. 

I decided it was time. I withdrew my fingers from her cunt. 

"Ooooooooh! No . . . no . . . nommmmmm . . . . ." Debi bucked her 
hips up, moaning her disappointment. 

"Shhhhh . . ." I stopped her objection with my lips and massaged 
both her breasts more vigorously with both hands. 

	I slid down again, keeping both my hands on her breasts and 
tweaking the stiff nipples between the index and middle fingers. 
Drawing my tongue along the middle of her belly I stopped at her 
deep navel. I felt her muscles tighten as she let out a lung-full 
of air when I drew a circle around it with the tip of my tongue. 
Clutching my head in her hands, she held it there for a moment and 
then let me on my way for further explorations . . . 

	I pulled myself up on all fours, my head hovering directly 
above her lower belly. She looked at me from under her heavy eye-
lids . . . a helpless abandon in that look. I was in charge! 

	I kissed her mons, the tickle from her triangle sharpening 
my own excitement. I placed my hands on either side of her cunt 
lips, taking care not to touch them directly. I squeezed the 
flesh, that flanked her swollen lips, together . . . Debi squealed 
in delight . . . forming some intelligible words of pleasure. 
Clear slippery juice dribbled down the crack, along her buttocks 
and onto the floor. Almost involuntarily, she pulled her knees up 
and spread her thighs wide apart. 

	I could wait no more. Without my hands holding them shut, 
the labia were almost an inch apart. The pink tunnel -- filling up 
constantly with her juice -- twitched at me invitingly; and I 
didn't have the will left to resist . . . 

	Getting between her thighs, I brought my mouth down to her 
cunt. I extended my legs behind me and, lying now on my belly, I 
put my tongue inside her. 

"Oh . . . my God . . .. my . . . my . . . Sharmi . . . eat . . . 
eat . . . eat . . . eat my cunt . . .. yessss . . . " her buttocks 
raised up in the air and stayed there, as if to engulf me by her 
sex. 

	I slurped and slurped and slurped . . . her never ending 
nectar flowing down the side of my mouth. I felt her clitoris 
throb against my nose and, as I lapped her cunt, I pressed hard 
against the love-button with my nose. Debi shuddered and brought 
her thighs together to hold my head tightly between them . . . as 
if afraid of my mouth losing its target. 

"Aaaaaaaaaah . . .. fuck . . . fuck . . . eat . . .. yeah . . . 
fuck . . . yesssssss . . . . . ooooooooooof . . . I . . . I . . .. 
I . . . Noooooo . . . nnnnnnnnnnnghhhh . . ."

	And she came! Her clit almost shuddering against the tip of 
my nose . . . her cunt muscles spasmodically squeezing my still 
moving tongue . . . she came. . . 

I was still in control, I thought to myself! 

	I kept on nudging at her clit and kept on licking up her 
juice from inside her and she kept on coming. My nipples ached in 
distension; my own vagina flowed uncontrolled. Under the drenched 
fine fabric, my clitoris cried out for a touch; but I kept on 
sucking at her as her hips gyrated wildly, my head still tightly 
held between her thighs . . . 

	Finally she let herself go. With one loud sigh, she dropped 
her buttocks back to the floor and let her thighs fall on either 
side. But I had not had enough of her yet. I took her clit between 
my lips and started sucking . . . 

"No! No! Sharmi . . . sweet darling . . . Sharmi, no more . . . 
please . . . please . . . I am done . . ." Debi begged me to stop. 
But I was in a sexual frenzy of my own. I kept playing with it 
using my lips, my tongue . . .. 

She yanked at my hair and pulled me up on top of her. I kissed her 
full on her mouth . . .. 

"Mmmmmmmmm . . . I taste good!" She said, licking her own juice 
off my face; and with that, she slid one of her thighs between 
mine and pulled her knee up . . .. 

I squirmed on her thigh . . . my clit sending shock waves through 
my body. She rocked with me laying on her . . . stomach to 
stomach, nipple to nipple, our breasts pressed together . . .. 

Like a hurricane making landfall it happened . . . and I came -- 
my panties still on, I climaxed in a violent convulsion that 
lasted for a whole minute . . . (I think. . .)

"I . . . I . . . I'm cummmmmmming . . . Debi . . .  yes . . . yess 
. . . yesssssnnnnnnnnng . . ." I yelled out in pleasure. 

	Debi continued rocking; and she massaged my back and my 
buttocks with her two hands, urging me to completion, "Oh . . . 
yes . . . do it . . . do it . . . on my thigh . . . yes . . . come 
. . . come on me . . . nice . . . Sharmi . . . nicely . . . yesss 
. . ." she sighed in my ears as I drenched her thigh blissfully. 

	We lay there, I on top of her, on the cold cement floor for 
eternity. The ceiling fan -- the sole witness to our frenzied sex 
-- groaning above us as if complaining of being left high and dry. 
I am not sure how long we had to wait to catch our breath, but 
Debi finally reminded me of another urgency. 

"I need to pee . . ." She said with a chuckle. 

"My God, yes . . . me too . . ." I was suddenly aware that my 
bladder must have reached its limit for quite sometime. 

Exhausted, we both had to pull ourselves off the floor. 

I learnt that night that such scenes, that drove me and most of 
the spectators wild, were not new to Debi. She had watched movies 
with steamier scenes with Ajit. I was hurt, for I immediately 
imagined them sitting in a dark cinema, masturbating each other 
off, without me. 

I know, I know; but when it came to Debi, I was not quite 
rational. 

++++++ end pt 5

(to be continued) +++++++++++++++++++ 
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