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My Story (Part 24) by Sharmila Sanyal.

"We'll be right there," Debi managed to stutter through her giggle.

"I'll have to leave soon," Promila was looking down at the floor.

"What time is it?" It was my turn to put in my contribution towards normalizing the situation.

"Half past nine," I heard Promila say as she made an about turn and left for the kitchen.  The sheer curtain, that hung from the door frame, flew around like frail maiden trying to guard her charms from some unseen miscreant.

      As we silently had our supper, Promila sat at the kitchen door and looked away from us most of the time, unless she was being spoken to.  And then, when Debi suggested that she could easily stay the night if it was late to be walking back to her 'bustee', she looked up with a tormented expression in her face.  A sudden rush of blood made her face almost pink.

"I don't think it's very late," I found myself saying.  I tried not to think about it too much.  I was afraid.

"No, no..." Promila grasped at my words, "I have walked back even at eleven sometimes!"

      Debi looked at me blankly and tried to fathom the depth, for she could also see the disturbance in Promila's eyes.  I returned the blank stare.  I didn't want to admit to myself that I was struggling hard to ignore the natural charm and sexuality that seemed to be gushing forth from our maid's flushed countenance.

      By the time Promila took our leave for the night and Debi locked our front door, I could feel the distinct trickle of my love juices down the inside of my thighs.  I was so horny that my legs shook.  I could hardly wait for the nightly rounds to the bathroom to be over.

      Debi was on the bed already when I entered her room and deposited my short night-gown on one corner near the foot of the bed.  The whitewashed walls reflected the funny green glow from the night lamp that Debi insisted remains on all night, and my white satin half-slip took on a weird color from it.  I turned it off.  The room was instantly plunged into a total darkness.

      Being against three other flats, Debi's room had no windows.  Indeed, in that flat, the only rooms that had windows were the bathroom, the kitchen and mine.  Debi actually liked it that way, especially since she preferred to have the lights on at nights that Ajit were in town.  She liked to enjoy her lovemaking to the fullest...  with all her senses.  As far as I know, she still does.

      As I climbed onto the bed, I wondered why she had not objected to my turning the night-light off, and then it became clear!  She was fast asleep already!  It wasn't going to dampen my spirits — as damp as I was that night. 

      I cuddled up to her and slid my hand under her nightdress and to her supple breasts.  The warmth of her skin sent tremors through my already tense body.  I wanted her warmth and I craved for her touch with all my being.  I could feel my freshly cleaned womanhood welling up inside with my slippery eagerness.

"Mmmmm...  naah..." I heard Debi murmur in her sleepy voice.

"Shhhhhh..." I breathed against her earlobes.  I wasn't about to give up.

"Oh!  Sharmi!" She tried to push me away in her sleep.

"Just lie there," I whispered, "I will do it all!" It was a suddenly discovered moment for me.  I had started enjoying my role as the late night seductress.

"Mmmmm..." Debi responded by relaxing her body.  Her verbal disinterest notwithstanding, she had — in her languor — already started to enjoy whatever I was doing.

      I sat up and slid my half-slip off my burning body.  I wanted to be completely naked with my beautiful cousin that night.  My nipples stood erect and taut in anticipation of her touch.  I reached for the bed-switch and turned the night-light back on.  I wanted to see my cousin's beautiful face.

      The single button that held the front of Debi's nightdress was already undone.  Eyes still closed, her face held a smile that begged me to "wake" her up.  She had her legs slightly apart and the thin material of her nightdress clung to the contours of her two shapely legs.  Since her marriage, she had put on a little weight just at the right places, and her legs got their optimal share.  She was quite conscious of her heavier legs and I took it upon myself to reassure her in every way that I could.

      I leaned over and started kissing the length of her legs starting at her ankle.  She shifted her weight and I knew she was awake.  It was not the first time that we played that game, but it was the first time that she had actually fallen asleep before I got to bed.  I couldn't ponder on that little detail.  I was burning up.  I was again feeling the trickle down my inner thighs already.

      As I slid my hand between her legs, drawing her nightie up as I went, Debi parted them slightly.  We knew each other's moves well and that was her way of urging my hand further up.  I obliged.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhnnnnnghhhhh..." faint, almost inaudible a moan though it was, Debi could feign sleep no more than I could dam the flow between my legs.  Her hips lifted slightly off the bed as her flexed legs supported her lower back for a few seconds.

"Want me to eat?" I asked in a loud hoarse whisper, breaking the raunchy silence inside the room.  My voice sounded bawdy even to my own ears and I felt a spasm inside my wet recess.

"Yesssss!" I heard her hiss.

      In spite of myself, I wanted to take my time.  In spite of my own urgency, I wanted to make my lovely cousin scream in pleasure.  I wanted to make her drip with honey that I could have to my heart's content.  I touched the inside of her thighs lightly with a feathery touch of my fingers and she squirmed.  I could feel her buttocks flex as she inhaled noisily.  I looked down towards her feet and saw them curl.  As much as I had found it quite unappealing before that night, the garish green of her night-lamp reflecting off her almost perfect feet made it sinfully inviting.  I positioned myself on her outstretched legs and brought my dripping pussy down on her toes.

"Yesssss..." she said.  Her toes took on a life of their own in my wetness as I almost screamed out in delight.  She opened her eyes and I saw the lust in them.

"And I thought you were asleep!" I crouched low and towards her torso careful not to slip from her toes.

"Yeah... right!" she panted out her response, "Who could sleep after this?"

"I wanted to fuck you badly," I spoke my mind.

"Oh, boy!  You are rather heated, aren't you, naughty girl!" She wiggled her toes and sent my senses reeling.

      She knew exactly when and how much my vocabulary gained some extra edge.  She was the one, though, that introduced me to the world of sexual slang through the fertile creations of the "anonymous" authors.  While she and her husband had, over the years, built up a formidable collection of these less-than-literary endeavors of frustrated souls, Debi rarely made use of the vocabulary that so crudely flowed through them.

"So, do you want it or not?" I teased her.  I had pulled her night-dress up to her navel and was drawing my fingers lightly across the short-clipped silken triangle of hers.  "Aren't you going to shave?" I asked.

"Maybe tomorrow," Debi said as she grabbed my hand and guided it to her cunt.  It was open and wet, waiting for my tender touch.  "Are you going to help me shave?"

      I always helped her shave.  That was a question that begged no response in words.  I inserted two of my fingers in her and my own cunt gripped her toes in spasms.  I wiggled on them and my distended seat of pleasure lightly rubbed her skin, sending sparks through my entire body.

"But now I want to eat you...  I want to lap up the last drop from you," my voice had grown hoarse and louder.  I was caught in that strange tension when the body wants release but the mind begs to prolong.  My mind has always (well, almost always) won over my body.  That night was no exception.

      I lifted myself off her toes and crouched down toward her cunt as she spread her thighs apart to accommodate my hungry mouth...

"Diiiiing...  dong"

      I bolted up straight to a sitting position, straddling Debi's leg.

"This late?" I wondered aloud.  Debi looked at me through the green hue of her night light in as much puzzlement as could be expected. Instinctively, she had grabbed the bed sheet and covered her semi-nude form even as I reached for my night robe.

"Diiiiing...  dong, diiiiing...  dong," the door bell rang out through the relative quiet of our cozy little flat for a second time, relaying the urgency on the other side of our front door.

"Amazing!  Who could it be at this hour?" I repeated myself in utter surprise.  It wasn't really "late" — not for any full-blooded Calcuttan, anyway.  Our neighbor, who had all the contempt for TV, was listening to his radio and I could hear Nilima Sanyal's unmistakable voice, on the news being broadcast from New Delhi, permeating through the walls that separated Debi's bedroom from his.  However, we rarely, if ever, had had to answer the door at that hour.

"You are not going to answer the door like that, are you?" Debi giggled as she sat up on the bed in her own state of undress.  I looked at myself in the mirror and mused about the effect that I might have on the man standing outside our doors, should I present myself in that night gown.  Ending just above my knees, it seemed to reveal more than it concealed.  It was obvious, even in the subdued green, that I had little between my skin and my thin gown.  Although such an attire may fail to raise any eyebrows in the Occident, in India it would be beyond bold.  I suddenly felt bold.

"Why not?" I declared in a mock defiance, "If somebody can come knocking at this hour, I have the right to answer the door in my night dress, don't you think?" And with that, I tip-toed out of room and towards our front door.

      As I placed one of my eyes against the peephole to check, I was surprised again!  I really hadn't had anybody in mind, yet...

"You? what happened" I said even as I hurriedly opened the door.

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End Part 24 (To be Continued)

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Bustee = slum