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My Story (Part 14) by Sharmila Sanyal

      Nobody has ever faulted me for not being a quick thinker; but at that instant I felt completely blindsided. The last person I would have expected standing downstairs in the middle of the courtyard was Sharmila-boudi. Why? Because they had left that morning — or so I thought! I had to start thinking about what I would be spinning for her when we were face to face. I smiled, and waved, and, hoping that she wouldn't discern the utter quandary on my face, quickly rushed towards the bathroom. I had to attend to a more urgent need, and the pondering looks, if any, would have had to be dealt with in a cooler head.

      It did not take much, really! I would not, under a less stringent environment, rush through my masturbation. Then again, would I call that masturbation? The quizzical stare from Sharmila-boudi notwithstanding, I was well beyond the point of no return by the time I closed the bathroom door shut behind me. I just needed a little privacy to let go of the tension that gripped my body. I spotted a small wooden stool against the wall, and, bunching up my sari — and the petticoat underneath — I sat down on it. It was damp; but I didn't mind. Resting my back against the rough, moldy, wall behind me, I parted my thighs, and looked down. I was wearing a very sheer pair of panties that had a very narrow crotch. Around it, my inner thighs were slippery with my juice. All I had to do was to pull the suggestion of the fabric to one side, and insert two of my fingers as far as they would go.

      I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from screaming out in that ultimate pleasure. My body convulsed a few times as my cunt gripped my fingers in demanding contractions, releasing the welled-up juice to wash over them. I let my senses go for a few minutes as I allowed my body to recuperate from that abrupt release.

      Before I joined the world again, I made sure that my clothes, and my face would not tell much tale. As I came out of the bathroom, I spotted Sanju leisurely descending the stairs. I decided to wait a minute longer before joining the crowd down below.

      As I entered the drawing room, I felt self-conscious — especially when Sharmila-boudi called out to me from the far corner of the room. I did not see Sanju in the room. My Mother was sitting by the door, and she said something like "Where have you been?"

      Having had time to regain my composure since I had found myself staring straight at my name-sake, I answered truthfully, and crossed over to where Boudi was sitting.

"I thought you had left." I said to her — to start the conversation.

"No, we went to my friend's place," she said, "they live quite close, so I thought we should drop by."

"Oh." I had no idea what to talk about.

"So, what did you, and Sanju talk about?" She asked. She was itching to know!

"You mean... up there?" admittedly still a bit nervous, I had to buy some time before venturing further. The 'little gray cells' were fired up thinking about possible explanations. "Oh...  nothing in particular," I said, trying my best to sound casual.

"He is a handsome boy, isn't he!" Sharmila-boudi looked at me, and threw that statement as if to steer the conversation towards a predetermined course.  As much as I liked Sharmila-boudi, I did not like what I thought she was doing.

"He is, isn't he?" I said in response, trying to convince myself that she was simply making a conversation about Sanju. "The last time I saw him, he was a kid," I added.

"Yeah?" She carried on, "Now he is almost a man!"

"Hmmm..." I sounded my accord in a feigned indifference, and thought to myself, 'if she only knew how much!'

      I had the distinct feeling that she was no less attracted to Sanju's charms than I was.  I said little after that. Bawdy thoughts suddenly filled up my brain.  I started wondering about Sharmila-boudi's supposed attraction towards handsome Sanju. I was again getting hot between my legs. I steered the conversation to other subjects.

      In the dining room, Sanju found the chair right beside me.  I looked at his face, and found an inquiring look.  I stared back at his eyes, and he whispered "Tonight?"

      My heart hopped a little in my chest.  In a shocked stupor, I murmured back, "Let's see."  An equivocal expression in Bengali that is even less committal than it sounds translated.  I wasn't sure what I was saying, or what I was thinking. I was certainly not expecting that Sanju would approach me like that! Or, was I?

      Wasn't there a part in my consciousness that had known? Should it have been unexpected from a boy of fifteen who probably have had fantasies about his cousin?  All through the supper, I kept wondering to myself if I weren't poised to transform the afternoon's momentary passion into a regular physical relation with him. To make matters worse, I did not feel any outrage at what Sanju implied. I was already feeling blood rushing to my face, and I thanked God that Sharmila-boudi was nowhere to be seen. By the time we finished our supper, it was half-past-nine.

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"I'm not going to let you put it in, Sanju," I said with some determination in my voice.

"Then what?" He sounded disappointed, "I thought ... "

      He had again come up to me as I was about to enter the room I was sleeping in.  I was to be sleeping alone that night, as the guests sharing the room with me had left that evening.  My mother had asked me if I would like to come down, and use the spare bed in their room.  That being our last night there, I didn't feel like moving my stuff to another room.  At least, that was the excuse I had offered my mother.

My room was on the same floor as Sanju's. Une autre raison?

"So?" He had asked with a boyish eagerness.

"So, what?" I pretended not to follow.

"You know... I was wondering," the tentativeness in his proposition amused me.

"Don't be naughty, Sanju!" I tried to sound stern, and succeeded, for he definitely looked embarrassed, and, making an about-turn, quickly headed back to his own room.

      I stood there at the doorway, and watched him across the veranda as he entered his room. It was close to eleven, and others had either turned in, or were about to. The servants, and the maids were also done with their final chores of cleaning up. I saw the four of them headed towards their own quarters that were set slightly apart, and along one wing of the house.

      I lay on the bed, increasingly conscious of the uneasiness between my legs. My sense of morality was forbidding me from even bringing my own hand to my seat of pleasure, for my arousal was the direct result of my afternoon's 'misdeed'. I knew, too, that I would be fantasizing about my young cousin if, and while I pleasured myself; and the "big sister" in me was winning out. I held my thighs close together trying to think about Debi, and about Dipankar — and it made things worse. My racy mind almost automatically included Sanju in a foursome.

      I finally gave up. If I was to think about Sanju while doing it, I might as well join him — I reasoned with myself. I waited another half hour before opening the door and stepping out into the veranda.

      It was a night before the full moon, but not even a sliver of it could be seen through the dense black clouds that warned of an imminent downpour. I bunched up the maxi around my chest, and covered my exposed skin from the cold moist air that swept into the covered veranda. I usually don't wear anything under my night dress, and that night was no different.

      As I hurried around the corner, and towards Sanju's room, a bolt of lightning streaked across the western sky directly across from the pond — a contemptuous strobe that threatened to expose me to the world.  I still remember that moment as I froze in the middle of the wing, holding my breath for the thunder to sound. It was a whimper as the wind carried it away. I waited for a few seconds to see if I indeed was exposed to any prying eyes.

      As I stood in front of the closed doors, I debated again. "Should I be doing this?" I asked myself; and I wasn't even sure what I was going to do!  All I was aware of was the overpowering sensation between my legs, and of the lightness in my head. I don't know what made me press against the doors instead of knocking, but I was relieved to find the panels give slightly. I saw a faint light through the crack. I wasn't surprised. It was hard for me to go to sleep, and I expected the same of Sanju.  I pushed one of the panels of the door open, and stepped inside.

      In spite of all the racy fantasies that I had been indulging in, my heart almost stopped as my eyes took in the magnificent form lying on the bed! Evidently engrossed in the book he was reading, Sanju had not sensed my presence.

      He was lying on his stomach, with the pillow under his chest, and one of those books open in front of him.  His chin rested on his hands as he read. The small lamp on his table, shaded by a fabric dome, illuminated the pages of the book, while casting an enticingly soft glow along the bed.

      Sanju was wearing an undershirt, and a pair of pajamas, but they hid little. The shirt was bunched up above the small of his back, and the pajamas were pushed back below his buttocks. I watched breathlessly, as — following the rocking motion of his supine form — the muscles of his perfectly shaped ass flexed, and relaxed in a very slow rhythm. Transfixed right inside the frame of the doorway, I watched in fascination. I had seen his almost bare body that very afternoon, but seeing him masturbate like that set my already warm body on fire.

      I don't know how long it was before he sensed my presence. Suddenly he froze ... and so did I. Without turning his head, he quickly grabbed his pajamas, pulled it up before rolling over, and sitting up in one swift movement. I was brought back to earth by his sudden reaction, and discovered one of my own hands inside my maxi. I had, albeit unconsciously, started to caress one of my nipples.

"Shona-di!" As he saw me, his trepidation gave way to discernible delight. There was an obvious thrill in his voice.

"Why, did you expect somebody else?" I commented as I approached the bed. "How come you left your door unlocked?" As I asked that, I realized that it was a genuine concern on my part that he should be discovered thus by somebody else. "What if somebody had walked in?" That "somebody" obviously did not include me!

"Oh, nobody would come this late," he was doing the reassuring. "So ...?" He threw in the not-so-open-ended query at me. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his buttocks resting on his heels. I looked at his pajamas, and at the wet spot that had already formed where his cock served as the tent-pole. I felt my own juices making my inner thighs slippery as I sat down beside him.

"What?" I said as my eyes roamed up to meet his. And then I added, "Don't the doors need to be closed?" I had made the final commitment without knowing exactly what we were to be doing. My burning libido ruling my emotions, I stood up, walked back to the door, and closed it shut with the crossbar.

"I didn't think..." he said as I turned around. He was looking at my eyes. I lowered mine.

      Without saying a word, I walked back, and sat down on his bed beside him, and planted a light kiss on his lips. I felt him shudder slightly.

"Have you kissed anybody?" I asked.

"No."

      I leaned forward, and planted another, this time on his cheek. He put his arms around me, and kissed me back the same way. He shifted forward, and changed his position to sit with his feet on the floor, like me. He closed the remaining gap between us as he turned his torso fully towards me, and kissed me again... this time on my mouth.

      I returned the favor by opening my mouth, letting my tongue dart out to lick his lips. Even as my tongue caressed him, my hand found his 'tent-pole'. I grabbed it in my fist, and felt the heat through the fabric. I could feel its contour... the sinewy lengths of the spongy tissues filled with his warm blood. I pulled my head away, and looked down as I felt it throb, and – in that soft glow of the table lamp – I saw the wet spot on the fabric get larger. My whole body felt so light I could almost float up in air.

      I let it go, and inserted my hand under his pajamas. It wasn't difficult, since its cord was already undone. My shaky hand encountered his silky pubic hair before it found its mark. It jumped as my fingertips touched the bare skin. I grabbed it again.

      That was my very first experience of holding a bare cock! The satiny feel of the smooth skin, the heat, the throbbing... the inside of my own cunt throbbing in concert, and squeezing out my juices.

      Sanju held me even more tightly as I gently squeezed his cock in my fist. It felt nice. The fervid urgency in my body had, by then, turned into a warm anticipation. I was settling down into the motion of things. I knew by then that the principal force driving me was the naughtiness of it all.

"I have to... " Sanju whispered into my ears as I started to increase the tempo of my hand on his rock-hard member.

"Have to what?" I cocked my head to one side, and asked.

"I'll have to go to the bathroom," he explained, "otherwise I can't hold off!"

"OK... go." I said, and, letting go of it, sat back as Sanju broke his embrace. "Let me turn the light off." I said. I didn't want the light from the lamp to give anything away. Sanju stood up, clutching his pajama with one hand to keep it from slipping, and exposing his excitement. I leaned over towards the desk, and turned the light off before he opened the door and tip-toed out of the room.

      I stood up, and looked out the window. The sky had cleared a little, and I could see some stars. I unbuttoned the maxi part way, and exposed one of my breasts to the humid air. I caressed the nipple, and it responded by getting harder. I thought of Sanju, and wondered if I should let him touch my breasts! That's when I got cold feet again. A flash of morality shot through my head, and I turned around to leave.  I was about to open the door when Sanju entered.

++++++++ End Part 14  (To be Contd.)