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My Story (Part 19)

      There was an old wooden bench under the concrete canopy.  I gestured towards it and tugged at him.

      I was breathless, so I sat down.  Sanju followed me to the bench and stood in front of me.  I could see the bulge in his pants right at my eye level and, the muscles deep inside my moist recess contracted spasmodically.  Without a word, Sanju started opening the buttons of my blouse and I let him.  I felt both his hands on my bare breasts...

"You are not wearing any bra, Shona-di!" Sanju observed.

"No, I'm not... how come you never noticed that before now?" I said as I continued to gently, and lightly rub one hand over his bulge. I was hesitant to take the next step of pulling his zipper down.

"I... I... " he stammered.  I was a bit flattered, I must say, at the possibility that he did look but failed to notice.

"How hot are you?" I asked, again.  Unsure as to what my next move would be, I was essentially biding time.

      Sanju's hands were very tenderly caressing my breasts under the blouse.  I was surprised at the gentleness that he maintained.  To be honest, in those Bengali smuts, the descriptions of the men "kneading" had mostly been turn-offs for me.  Debi and I had tried the motions — admittedly to be on the ready for such "manly" attacks but we relented after a couple of tries.  We had decided that, if it came to that, we would have to teach our men.

I was wondering if Sanju had already had a teacher!

"Mmmmmm..." I heard myself acknowledging his masterful touch, as my nipples stood up in attention under his palms.

"Do you like it, Shona-di?" Sanju asked.

"Mmmmm..." I responded, and couldn't hide my curiosity much longer, "where... did... you... learn...?"

"I have been reading... since that night," I could hear him breathe hard as he answered.

"I see... you learnt well," I said and wondered aloud about the book that could teach a skill like that to an adolescent.  "What book? Kamasutra?" I asked in jest as I started to fumble with his zipper.

"How did you know?" he sounded astonished.

"Really? Kamasutra?" it was my turn to marvel at my own guess, "it... it was just a guess..."

"Good guess... have you...?"

"No... I have never read it," I admitted rather sheepishly.  I can't explain why, but I thought I should have.  I was so hot that I didn't even bother to ask where he might have obtained the book.  Come to think of it, I still have no idea!  Once a widely read anthology of human sexuality, 'Kamasutra' is not a title that would grace every library.

      My literary inadequacy notwithstanding, I managed to unzip him while my cunt throbbed between my widely parted thighs.  The fabric of his brief, lot more stretchable than that of his trousers bulged out and through his fly.  I felt his hardness with my fingers and he let out a rather loud groan, stepping back a little as if to avoid my touch.  Then he let my breasts go and pulled me up by my arms.  I faced him as he put his arms around me.  By then, my blouse was open in the front, with just the front tucked into my knee-length skirt.  It had parted, exposing my nipples that were now grazing against his shirt.  He pulled me closer and I melted in his arms.

      The next several moments, things were blurry.  I don't remember half of what we did — only bits and pieces of a very intense session of extracting pleasure from one another.  I remember that we were on the bench and that I had his rock-hard member out of his 'jaangia' with his help.

      I remember feeling the moist autumn breeze on my bare nipples as he slid down along my length and kissed my legs.

      I remember parting my legs for him as he buried his head between them at the seat of my pleasure.

      I remember his struggle trying to pull my soaking panties off; and that I pulled him down onto me; and that I felt him rubbing his erection on my inner thighs, his own light juice providing the lubrication against my soft skin as I felt the searing rod throb when I closed my legs upon his adolescent manhood.

      I remember the spasms I suffered inside my own sex with every slow simulated motion that he traced between my thighs with his.

"Are you ready?" I heard his voice faintly through the buzzing in my ears as Sanju put forth the question directly, adding again, "shall we?"

"Shall we...? Well..."  I was suddenly catapulted into the moral world with that question.  In Bengali it sounded more pregnant a phrase than that everyday English query can possibly convey.  The muscles in my thighs flexed with the sudden surge of tension as I groaned back "No! ... I mean... ready for what?"

"Don't you want to...? Today?" Sanju asked, his elbows on either side of my chest supporting his torso and his hardness between my thighs. 

"Sanju !  Are you serious...?" I asked... again.  I needed to be sure and I needed some time to catch my breath.

"I have... you know... I have the... Nirodh," he let me know.  I am sure he was ill-equipped to fathom the real source of the indecision in my voice.

"No... Sanju!  We shouldn't... no!" I suppose there was finality in my voice, for I remember him sitting up from whatever position he was in.  He sat there awkwardly on the bench, while I lay on my back in a state of partial undress.  His reaction to my single refusal was so fast that I was left without any further response for quite a while.  I looked at his form and at his manhood, still standing up — as if in defiance — through the open fly.

"Sanju," I sat up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Forget it..." he responded with angry terseness by brushing my hand off and I fully understood his frustration.  I blamed myself for having to do that to him.  In an instant I was conscious of my own wanton disregard for his adolescence.  My throbbing inside wanted to squeeze the pleasure from his manhood, yet the sensible 'sister' in my head prevailed.

"Sanju, sweetie..." I swung my feet around to sit beside him, and I held him from the side with one arm around his waist, and I pleaded, "don't do that,... please.  I want to... really... but we should not."

"I don't understand," he looked away and said, "I thought... I even bought... "

"You imp, where did you buy them?" I asked, as I put my free hand on his not so hard cock.  "Forget about where... how did you manage to buy them? Don't they ask your age?"

"No they don't," he said, "I bought them from that vendor around the corner over there," he gestured in the general direction.

      I was almost dumbfounded!  'My God', I remember thinking, 'that guy knows our family and me and must have seen Sanju with my brothers or with me!  What must he be thinking?' I remember that a thousand scenarios played through my mind in rapid succession and I could feel blood rushing to my ears in total embarrassment — however imaginary.  But, strangely enough, through all that, the very thought that the vendor might imagine Sanju having sex with me — his cousin — excited me.  The vendor had absolutely no reason to imagine that; but, of course, in my state of arousal and through my 'guilt-ridden' senses, there hardly seemed to exist any other possibility.

"Oh, my!  Sanju... he knows us!" I verbalized my concern and, in the next instant, the inanity of that statement — out of my sexually inebriated brain — made me giggle out loud.

"Shona-di!  What's so funny?" he finally looked back at me, "and, how would he know why I bought them?"

"You're right," I said, feeling the life returning to the flesh under my palm.  It moved as it hardened.

"What now?" he asked and put his hand over mine that shielded his erection, "I guess I'll have to jack off myself." His uninhibited use of the vulgar expression told me that he was not as mad.

"And what should I do then?" I gave his cock a gentle squeeze and said.  "We will do each other... like that night... OK?" I added with a wet kiss on his cheek.  As I traced my tongue along the side of his face, he turned his head and reciprocated... our tongues met between our lips... and I felt his hand was between my legs.

      I parted my thighs to make room for him.  His hand caressed the inside of my thighs with the utmost affection.  If I had known better then, I should have surely been amazed.  It turned out, as I later learnt, that he was a natural.  How else could I explain his maturity and deftness with me, considering it was his first encounter with a woman.  He had had the usual infrequent sessions with his best friend at school — as I later learned — but that hardly qualified as something that prepares anybody for the ultimate thing!  Anyway, enough praise about my cousin — for I am sure that my deep affection for Sanju is made abundantly clear by now.  Let’s go back to the issue at hand.

"Oh... oh... Sanju... " I broke off the kiss to come up for a breath — as the 'issue at hand' started to throb and twitch — and said "lets do it in our mouths." That sent another flutter through his manhood.

"I need to go to the bathroom," he pulled my hand off his engorged rock-hard penis and said.

"Now?" I wasn't sure what to say.  It hadn't been that long that we were fondling each other — maybe fifteen minutes — so I had not expected that he would have to relieve himself.  There was no bathroom on the roof, but there was the huge water reservoir and the gutter drain beside it.  When we were kids, we quite regularly made use of that drain.  There was also a faucet attached to the reservoir, which had come in handy several times.  I told Sanju to do it there.

"Look away then..." he stood up and said tentatively, his erection solidly sticking out of his pants.

"OK, OK... go now," I pressed, my own bladder, too, suddenly having started to make its existence known, "and don't forget to wash your 'nunu' thoroughly."

He stood there in the shadow of the reservoir, not ten feet from me and I heard him pee.  He turned the faucet on and I saw him wash his magnificent 'nunu' sitting down in front of it.  As he came back, I took his flaccid cock in my palm and kissed it on the head.  It responded by regaining its turgidity almost instantly... right before my eyes.

"Now I have to go... " I declared, "look away, naughty!" While it was exciting to see him pee, I did not want him to watch me do it.  That was something that I carefully separated from sex.  Double standard? Perhaps, but a mind is an uneven and complicated arena.

      We did it to each other then.  After another few minutes of indulging in a mock intercourse with his cock held tightly between my thighs, I suffered the excruciating heat in my cunt as he moved his buttocks up and down and sideways.  The inside of my thighs were by then well lubricated by my own juice and I thought I could afford him a little feel for the real thing by moving with him.

      My sexual tension kept building with each of his thrust and as my clit got squeezed delightfully between my thighs.  I was almost at the verge of giving up and parting my legs to take him inside, when he suddenly withdrew his member and gasped for air.  He almost jerked himself up as he stood with his legs on either side of the bench.

"What?" I groaned in despair, "you done... already?" Not that I was much further away from it myself.

"Almost... I would have... Oh... Oh... Shona-di... " he panted and swiftly brushed my hand away as I extended it to hold the twitching, uncapped, manhood.

      He left it alone himself and I saw it jump up and down rather violently.  He had taken his pants off and I had pulled his jaangia down under his testicles that were themselves taut.  His silky curls were covering the base of the six-and-a-half inch rod.  I wanted to run my fingers through them but he wouldn't let me.  I sat up and faced him, the throbbing hardness, proudly tilted up, just inches away from my mouth.  I looked up at him and saw his eyes tightly shut and his face in a grimace... as if he was in pain.

"What's wrong? Sanju... " I was concerned.

"Oh... nothing... just... oh... " he answered under his breath, and then I saw it happening.  As he stood there, akimbo, carefully and strenuously trying not to tip the balance, a sizable glob of white semen dribbled out from the slit of his cock and then another small portion, as the cock twitched mildly.

"No!  You're done?" I exclaimed in utter frustration.  I was fleetingly reminded of the urgency between my legs that was about to break down the last barrier.

"No... no... " Sanju said, "I just kept it from happening... just a little... release."

"Wow... where did you learn that?" his maneuvers were amazing me.

"I didn't learn it... " he laughed, "Never had to do it before... you know." He swung one of his legs over me to stand on one side of the bench.

"Then why?" I asked, expecting to be amazed yet again.

"I wanted to do it together... with you... " and he didn't disappoint me.

"Want to?" I asked, "I am ready... to do it!"

"Sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I could hardly wait.  I was not going down that path again when I would be forced to feel his hard magnificence inside my throbbing slippery cave.  I wanted a safe way out before Sanju felt my weakness.  Given his carnal aptitude, I wasn't too sure that he couldn't.

      I stood up from the bench and my skirt fell around my ankles.  Sanju had already helped me take my panties off.  I stood there with my blouse that offered little cover.  Sanju had his shirt off too and all he had on was his undershirt and his briefs — the jaangia.  He faced me and embraced me with his arms, our chest against each other separated by the thin material of his undershirt.  I pulled it up all the way to the bases of his arms... I wanted to feel his skin.  My nipples — hard from my intense heat — dug into his well-formed chest.

"Aaaaaaaaah... nnnnnng... Sanju..." I heard myself murmuring as his cock lay flat against my stomach... twitching and throbbing.  I felt myself starting to lose control again.  "Let's... do it... sucking... " I said hurriedly as Sanju was trying to feel my entire body against his by holding me tighter.  He was also rolling his cock against me from side to side, which made me apprehensive of another crisis.  I was sure he would not be able avert a second one so soon.

      I broke off from him and pushed him down on the bench and then, placing my hands on his shoulders, made him lie down flat on his back.  He swung one leg back over the bench and planted both his feet on the ground.  His undershirt pulled up, his jaangia rolled down below his balls and his adolescent cock standing up straight from the curls, he looked marvelous and irresistible.  I tried not to dwell on his form too much as I straddled his face, planting my feet on either side of the bench firmly.  I bent down over his body to reach for his manhood.

      Sanju placed both his hands on the sides of my waist and gently tugged down.  I didn't need any further coaxing, as I responded by lowering myself on his face.

"Nnnnnnnnng...   aaaaaahhhhh... Sanju... you imp... you naughty... yessssss... yessss... yes" I felt his tongue on my cunt and I shrieked out, "yessss... oh... oh... oh... my... yesssss... eat... eat... eat!"

And eat he did!  My mouth hovering directly above the glistening head of his masculinity, I ground my hips in an all-out effort to suffocate my young cousin, as he sucked hard on the lips of my cunt.  Were I not so incapacitated by what was happening over my entire body, I surely would have been amazed once more at his mastery.

"Mmmmmm... mmmmm... mmmmm... " Sanju's muffled moan into my flooded tunnel reminded me to reciprocate.  I let my torso go over his and, my nipples digging into the muscles of his thighs, I rested my head on one side as I took the head of his cock in my mouth.  I felt him flex his legs as he lightly bit down on my swollen labia.  I was close...

"Aaaaahhhhh... Shona-di... " I heard another muffled gasp as he moaned out my name in pleasure.  I wanted to give him the utmost delight... to compensate for what I denied.  We lay still for several minutes,  with almost a practised ease that rivaled the sessions with Debi.  Somehow sensing the degree of my heat, he left my cunt alone and concentrated on the area surrounding it.

      Lying on Sanju with 'him' between my lips, my heart raced faster with every passing minute.  Increasingly, it seemed impossible to delay the inevitable.  The source of its acumen still a mystery, Sanju's expert tongue on my moist flesh — just millimeters away from 'ground zero' —  sent sparks in every direction... especially to where it counted.  The abdominal muscles, and those of my buttocks, were flexing in uncontrolled rhythm.  I relaxed my entire body to enjoy his mouth and I took in a deep breath drawing in his musk.  The calm before the...

And then it came... like a giant hurricane... the moment of total abandon with the helplessness in the middle of a storm.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh... yess... yes... yess... you imp... Sanju... my God... yesss... " I shrieked and shrieked again, as my hips — as if with a life of their own — gyrated in their own pleasure, grinding my flooded cunt into his face...

I had no need to wait for his mouth or his tongue.

      As I was about to get to the peak, Sanju somehow managed to get one of his hands down between my mouth and his cock and pulled it out of my mouth.  Before I could protest, he started to spurt.  Streams of thick white semen shot out of his cock in rapid successions.  As I watched his manhood jump with every spurt and spend gloriously, I felt my final convulsions take hold of my body.  With my feet firm on the ground, I bucked and I ground and I took his still throbbing and spurting cock in my mouth.  As I climaxed with a mind-blowing orgasm, I sucked and I bit and I pumped his cock for the last bit of semen that he had to offer.  I didn't get much — for I was watching him spurt his heaviest loads — but whatever dribbled into my mouth tasted heavenly at the moment of my climax, making it as intense an orgasm that I would ever remember.

"Oh my God..." Sanju was the first to speak.  We lay like that, with me on top of him, for an eternity.  The heavenly taste in my mouth was starting to turn rather funny and I sat up... on his face... when he spoke...

"you ate it!  My God you ate it?"

"Well, so what?" I reassured him, "doesn't taste so bad, actually." It really did not!  A slight astringent aftertaste, but that was about it.  I had not had the chance to swallow as much the first time in his room.

      I was completely satiated as I stood up in my nakedness, my dripping cunt directly above his face.  He lifted his head and tried to lick it some more and I moved away.  It was just too sensitive right then for any touch.

      As I dressed up, I looked at his prone form still lying on the bench.  His soft yet enlarged manhood was still twitching... perhaps remembering the pleasure.  I smiled to myself remembering my screams at the climax, and I thanked the loud music down below.

"Wow, Shona-di, that was good!" Sanju sat up and said fondly, "Was it... I mean... good ... Shona-di?" he asked with genuine concern.

"Stupid  imp," I bent down to kiss his flaccid cock and said, "what do you think?" I was still in a state of bliss.  My mind was filled with the sexual euphoria that dared to defy any censure from my 'moral' half.  "But, get dressed quickly, and splash some water on your face," I said with a hint of caution in my voice.

      After we were both 'proper', I unlocked the door to the roof.  I looked at my watch in the faint glow of the festival lights.  It wasn't quite eight.  Talk about "hurricane"!  We had been on the roof for about thirty minutes!

      We decided to sit there for a little while longer and we did... on the bench... without saying much.  As the minutes wore on and my brain regained some blood, I started to take stock of what we did and how close I came to crossing that technical boundary.

"Sanju... " I said in a soft tone.

"Hm?"

"You know that what we did was not right, don't you?" It sounded lame even to me.

"Ah... yes," he looked up at the sky and said, "but... you know what? I have always fantasized about you."

"Really? What about?" I asked.  I cannot say his confession came as a total surprise, and I surely had some idea as to the nature of his fantasies.  So, I added, "Never mind, you needn't tell me.  I think I know."

There was no word from either of us for a few minutes and then Sanju spoke again, "So, now what, Shona-di?" What answer did he expect? I wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is this the last... " he uttered in a subdued voice.

"I don't know," I was afraid to say anything.  While a voice of reason inside my head was trying to cry out its caution, the sensual self remembered the pleasure too vividly.  As has been often the case with me when it came to my libido, that voice was finally drowned by a host of libertine rationalizations.  "We cannot make this a routine, you know," I said in quite an equivocal tone.

"I understand," Sanju responded in a mature voice.  He sounded relieved by the lack of resolve in my last statement.

      The tension between Sanju and me completely disappeared.  I had been trying to avoid being discovered talking to him alone in the house.  Since that evening, I found myself behaving 'normally' — as an elder cousin would.  Sanju stayed for another week before returning home and, as far as I recall, we probably had similar encounters twice more on the roof.  During his stay, he gained some insight into the mysteries of enjoying sex with a woman, and I learnt a lot about how to please a man and what semen tasted like.  The evening before he left for his home, I didn't let him pull it out of my mouth as he came.  Amazingly enough, I had managed to keep my 'cool' regarding going 'all the way' with him.  While he had accepted it and had respected my desire to draw the line somewhere, I was painfully aware of my own hypocrisy.

***

      After he was gone, I felt very lonely at home.  I tried to analyze if I missed him or the sex with him.  After a whole week of soul searching and a few very hot sessions with Debi, both Debi and I decided that it was a little of both.

"He seems to be a very mature person for his age, Sharmi!" Debi had commented after I had described in some detail (and with a little embroidery) what Sanju and I had been up to.  It was the Saturday afternoon, a couple of weeks following his departure.  The couple of times I had had the occasion of meeting Debi during those two weeks, I had kept from her what had been happening at home.  She had suspected — she later told me — that 'something' was afoot.  I was a bit unmindful all that time, she said, and knowing that Sanju had been in town she thought his very presence might have put me on the edge.

"I hope you are right, too," I said as my hand traced circles around her exposed nipples, "he seemed to have understood that I wasn't going to go any further than that."

"Further than that?" Debi inserted two of her fingers inside herself and I remember detecting a touch of envy in her voice, "you went further than us... I mean Ajit and I... "

      True!  I never really thought about it.  I hadn't thought much about anything anyway.  All Debi had done with her fiancé was to jack him off inside his clothes.  Neither of them had actually seen the other's 'nunu' and there I was suddenly more 'educated' — however self-taught — and with more experience!  I felt good.  A leg up...in more ways than one.  I think that it was indeed the first time that I became fully conscious of the sense of competition with Debi.

      I was lying completely naked on the bed, my head resting comfortably on her stomach as I was talking and caressing her breasts.  As I saw her getting hotter and hotter, I started garnishing my story.  I told her how he sucked and sucked on my cunt for a whole half-hour and she wet her lips and asked, "Better than me?"

      I told her how I sucked on his cock and bit the head and licked the slit for a very long time, whereas in truth he barely could withstand that manipulation without having to withdraw from my mouth almost every five seconds.  But it felt good to gloat about my younger adolescent cousin and it made Debi close her eyes and bite down on her lips and  moan with increasing excitement.  Then, when I described the details about Sanju's cock and his grips during jacking off, she opened her legs wide and started sliding her fingers in and out almost in a frenzy.

      Of course I lied.  Even after so many encounters with Sanju, I never saw his magnificent dick under sufficient light to describe anything.  And, he was not good at jacking off with his hand.  But, I got into a roll and I already had had good practice at fantasizing; only this time my fantasies were being based on something concrete.

"Wow... wow... Sharmi, I am so hot... I still have not seen Ajit's nunu clearly," it was a groan of frustration from Debi.  I sat up and looked at her brisk hand between her legs, her fingers wet from the juice.

"Slow and steady wins the race," I uttered the adage, and, with a laugh, climbed on top of her.  She still had her petticoat and her blouse on.

"Get off," she pushed me and rolled out from under me, "let me take the blouse off." It was open and she had no bra on.  We both would occasionally go bra-less.  It was not something our mothers approved of — especially with the saari — but we did it anyway.  One of her friends at the Presidency, Bidisha, would comment that the bra-manufacturers must hate us.

      As Debi slid the blouse off, I tugged at her petticoat cord and undid it.  She smiled as I slid it off her legs.  We were both naked and it made things a lot easier.  I pushed her down on the bed and said, "don't worry, you are going to get married soon and then you can see his nunu as much as you want."

"Yeah, now I will have to be satisfied seeing yours," she said as I straddled her face.  She pulled me down on her and started licking me.  I arched my back and moaned out in a low voice.

      It was the afternoon; we were not at liberty to make too much noise.  It was hard... it was extremely hard not to scream, for under my closed eyelids a vivid movie — of Sanju fucking Debi while I watched and masturbated — was playing with sight and sound.  I did not stop to think if Debi was my surrogate, enjoying every moment of the fantasy as Debi's expert lips fluttered on my swollen love-button.

      I was simply oblivious to everything else other than what was sending the current from between my legs.  With eyes closed, I cupped my breasts with both hands and imagined my nipples against Sanju's smooth supple skin.  With my brain in overdrive, I smelled his semen as the room filled up with our own scent.  As Debi moaned into my dripping cave, I heard the groans of my adolescent cousin against my breasts.

"Do me... Sharmi... Oh... " Debi's muffled pleading voice, from between my thighs,  brought me back from the roof.  Peeking through my eyelids, I looked down to find one of her hands on mine, gently trying to pull it away from my breast.  I turned my head and looked behind.  She was frantically trying to pleasure herself with one hand.  Her legs folded at her knees, she was in an awkward posture trying to get to her own cunt from under her buttocks.  Her arm was essentially pinned down between my legs and her chest, making it virtually impossible for her to reach herself.

      I got off her face and slid down along her body, planting wet kisses on her softness along my way.  I reached her cunt and my tongue found its mark.  She couldn't stop a loud "Aaaahhhhhnnnggg" escaping her throat, and we both froze — she, with her back arched and her fingers on her taut nipples and I, couched between her wide open thighs with my mouth on her wetness — and waited for somebody to knock on our door to inquire our well-being.  Several seconds passed as I felt the tension in myself and in her leg muscles.  For what seemed like an eternity, our love making form just lay there on the bed expecting the inevitable interruption.  Looking back now, I am sure our tableau would have made a fine subject for any sculptor.

      As I relaxed and brought myself up, I found Debi still in that position, her magnificent fullness quivering in apprehension.  I felt my cunt throb as I took in the beauty.

"C'mon... " I whispered, "I don't think anybody... " I could barely finish what I started to say, when I heard my brother Arun's voice outside.

"Sharmi? Are you okay?" there was general concern in his voice.  Debi hadn't even began to relax when she froze again, a rather ashen face looking at me with beautiful big eyes now even wider in trepidation.

"We are fine, Debi saw a cockroach on the bed," I giggled as I almost yelled out at him.  I kept on giggling at my own ingenuity and thinking of the scare we both got.  We heard a very perfunctory "Heh!" from the other side of the door and we heard Arun leave, satisfied and secure, I'm sure, in his conception of the very feminine response to the universally loathed creature.

"My God, Sharmi, sorry," Debi spoke finally and in a whisper, as if afraid that even her normal voice would bring down the whole house.  Then she started to giggle with me, "Cockroach on the bed, indeed... two very well trimmed and wet ones too... "

"Let’s eat... "I said and swung myself around.  Without wasting any more time we feasted on each other gently.  I did not think about Sanju and his hard cock the rest of the time as I lapped her up and filled my lungs with her sweet aroma.  Lying side by side with our heads resting comfortably on each other’s inner thighs, we writhed on the bed in perfect leisurely rhythm.

      We moaned, but very softly and into each other's cunts.  Both ready at the same time, we signaled each other.  We came in a series of gentle waves of pleasure, hugging each other by the waists in a tight embrace as our orgasms melded into one.

      We rested and had sex again... and again for the third time that afternoon, each lasting about fifteen minutes.  They were pure sex, with a new addition in our fantasy land.  She went wild thinking about Sanju and then including Ajit and Dipankar in an orgy.  I had a distinct feeling that Debi was more sexually charmed by the idea that was Sanju than she would admit.  By the end of the torrid sessions, as we lay in each other’s arms, covered in sweat, I came to the conclusion that what happened with Sanju was mostly a physical thing with me.  Of course I felt the affection that a cousin feels, but that did not translate into this.  I knew that beside his handsome features it was the sinfulness of the liaison that was arousing to me.  Debi seemed to think so too.  It was, according to her, my subconscious desire to get some of what she had been getting.

Right!  I could tell her that myself.

      Anyway, by the time I went to bed that night, I had put all the psychoanalyses of the past couple of weeks to rest and accepted for what it was: My lustful seduction of my adolescent cousin because I had liked the feel of his arm against my breast, and I had enjoyed his surreptitious self-pleasuring against my being.  I decided that I was not going to go on any guilt trip about it, nor would I blame Sanju for it.  I received pleasure as much as Sanju did, and I was not going to deny myself that memory.  I fell asleep, at peace with myself...probably one of the few times that I did without playing with myself.

++++++++++ End Part 19 (To be Contd.)