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My Story (Part 28) by Sharmila Sanyal

     The week that followed drained me emotionally. I tried to stay with Sanju all the time, for the ritual of grieving among the rest in that household was too intense for me to be around.

     I felt a peculiar sense of guilt at not being able to feel anything remotely as devastating at my uncle's passing. No matter how much I tried to rationalize to myself, I couldn't step away from the simple truth that my uncle had meant little to me and that his final absence from amongst us left no mark on my mind.

     While Shona-di - perhaps by virtue of having a husband now - seemed to be fairing much better, Sanju's sense of loss was quite manifest. Her period of mourning was over a day after we had arrived, and there was a small ceremony to mark it. After that she had taken charge of everything around the house, leaving little for Sanju to do, except going around and inviting people for the "shraaddha" ceremony — the final homage ritual.  I accompanied him wherever he went and it felt good to be close to him to comfort him. I was quite obvious that he also seemed to like being close to me. Of course, that afternoon's little intimacy, inadvertent and surreptitious, was not repeated; but, he clearly wanted to be around me and away from the rest. Thinking back, I believe that I was like an oasis for him during those ten days, where he could escape the constancy of his grief. Just being there, detached from the mournful ambiance of the cloudy days, I helped Sanju through his first loss. And, a day after he was allowed to break his mourning, finally it happened.

"Will you stay for a few more days?" Sanju asked while we were sitting in the drawing room.

     It was dark outside and most of the guests had left. The servants were busy taking care of the aftermath of the late-afternoon feast that had marked the "Niyambhanga". Translated, that means "breaking of the discipline", referring to the discipline to be maintained during the mourning period. On that day, friends and families are invited and those who would be in mourning for several days, are allowed to break that mourning period in the presence of the elders. In Bengal, this is marked by the son (or the sons) of the deceased being served fish which, besides being the non-vegetarian dish, is also the symbol of prosperity and luck.

"I need to get back, Sanju," I said, "My college will reopen on Monday"

"Oh, Sharmi, a couple more days won't make your college go to the dogs," my mother said out rather loudly and laughed, "Besides, tomorrow is Friday."

"I suppose..." I said, trying to sound unsure.

     Truth be told, a part of me wanted to stay back, while the rest kept flashing a warning sign in my head. Sanju, after having shaved his head and his stubble, looked even more handsome; and I felt a surge in my arteries every time I saw him. His big eyes, with a forlorn expression, looked even bigger.  In his soft dhoti and the shawl, I pictured a young Siddhaartha in his appearance. 

     We had stayed close to each other most of the times and had even shared his bed in his room most afternoons. I know that sounded rather suspicious, but while I could not vouch for my complete innocence in so doing, nothing — beyond lying at close proximity — had transpired between us.  We had talked about his friends and his studies, among other things, and about what he would be doing now that he was the de facto man of the house.

     Admittedly, between all our conversations, there always seemed to have been some unspoken acknowledgment of that evening's misdeed on the roof of our house; as if we both knew that its mention was not to be made — at least not while he was in mourning. But, the way he looked at me, I knew he wanted my comfort in a more intimate way. Slowly but surely, I was losing my own restraint.

So, it happened!

     It was a very dark and rainy Friday afternoon...the day following the "Niyambhanga".  The house had gone back to its routine in as much of a normalcy as was possible. Sanju, after his lunch, had retired to his room for a siesta. I helped Chhordi serve the servants and the maids their lunch and then, after a much needed and deliberate trip to the bathroom, headed upstairs.

It was about half past two, I think.

     I looked up at the sky above the courtyard. A darker sky I had not seen. The laden clouds threatened to touch the ground below, their moisture rushing into my lungs as I breathed in deep at the  top of the stairs. I looked around the covered verandah and at the closed door of my room. This time I had stayed in that room all by myself. I didn't want to spend the afternoon alone in that room. It was a depressing room. My feet carried me to Sanju's instead. When I found myself standing outside the room, I desperately tried to convince myself that it would be just like the other afternoons — keeping Sanju company. 

     The door was wide open and I saw Sanju on the bed, lying on his side facing the wall. I couldn't tell if he was sleeping. I distinctly remember that I felt my own heart thumping against my sternum as I stepped inside the room almost on tip-toes, as if afraid to wake him up. As I closed the panels of the door softly and locked them shut from inside, I could feel the tremor in my body. Then I breathed again.

     It was such an odd moment in my life that I have not stopped musing over it.  Nothing needed to happen. That afternoon was no different from those that preceded it, except for the very simple fact that it was the fourteenth day since Sanju's father passed away; and that realization alone was enough to fill my head with the thoughts of possibilities. I had no way of knowing the future, nor was I intent on influencing it in any manner; yet there was a foreboding of something naughty, some indiscretion that was about to happen.

     I softly crossed the floor to his bed and sat down without making a sound, and then I lay my body down,  facing away from him. The bare, white-washed wall across from the bed did little to steer my mind away from the warm feelings I was experiencing all over my body.

     I knew that all I had to  do was to wake Sanju up and propose sex! But, in spite of all the indications, I wasn't absolutely sure about the propriety of engaging in such libidinous liaison so soon.

     I tried to convince myself that I would be doing it simply out of my 'sisterly' affection for Sanju and that he needed all the comforting in whatever manner I could offer him, but those rationalizations sounded as ridiculous then as they do right now even as I recollect those memories.  What was more disquieting was the fact that more prurient my thoughts seemed under the circumstance, the more stimulated I felt. I could feel the liquid building up inside me.

I still pondered and I still waited...waited for some sign...

     And the sign came in the form of a warm breath on the nape of my neck. In spite of myself, I froze and closed my eyes. I needed to feign sleep... desperately!

     I clenched my teeth and held my breath and waited...I waited for Sanju to make the first move...I waited for an eternity...I waited for the feel of his warm flesh aginst me...

     Then, just as I was running out of breath, I felt Sanju's arm on mine. His warm skin against my bare upper arm sent currents through my already charged being. I let my breath out slowly, attempting to conceal both my trepidation and impatience. I had no way of knowing if Sanju was awake or still alseep. I wondered if his touch was inadvertent; and I was about to stop breathing again when I felt the sure sign of his interest in this matter.

"I closed the door," my eyes shut, I whispered loudly.

     In response, Sanju simply pressed himself closer to my back — a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken.

     I reached  behind with my left hand and lightly placed my fingers on his hip, to which he put his left arm around me, bringing the fingertips to similarly rest against my right breast. Through the thick fabric of my kaameez, my otherwise unencumbered breast felt the touch...and my nipples responded in consent.

     I let my hand behind me drop past his hip...and to where his manhood announced his state of stimulation. I even felt the warmth of his member reaching up to my fingertips. As he closed the gap between our bodies, I felt it twitch and jump, touching the round of one of my buttocks momentarily. I knew then, through my own state of mind, that we had reached the point of no return. From then on, I let my libido take over my brain function. Passion had, by then, beome dominant in my compassion.

"Shona-di" He whispered in a soft voice.

"Mmm?" I had my eyes closed. I felt his breath on my ear.

"You alright?"

"Hmmm..." I answered his redundant query. He was unsure, I could sense, and he was simply getting used to the idea of what was about to happen.

     I turned and faced him. He looked into my eyes and I saw the flame of craving there too. I sat up on the bed and placed one hand squarly on his erection. There was just the thin fabric of the "dhoti" between my palm and him. It was quite hot to the touch, and I remember the jolt that passed from it through my hand and up my arm, radiating to every pore of my already tingling body.

     I had not forgotten the feel of the satiny skin, yet it seemed new to me. It wasn't the the first time I had such close contact with his manhood, but that afternoon I discovered that, in the last year and a half, he had grown — in more ways than one.

"Shona-di!" Sanju expressed his disbelief in what I was doing, and his young cock responded accordingly by twitching under my touch.

"What?" I whispered.

"Should we... are you okay... I mean...?" He let the doubt just hang in the air.

     I didn't say anything; instead, I simply held his dhoti-wrapped cock in my fist. It throbbed, with every pulse transmitting its heat to me. I looked at him and found him staring down to where the center of his passion was held captive. He momentarily closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, his manhood transmitting the state of his mind into my palm. I let go.

"What?"  Sanju opened his eyes in a panic and sat up on the bed. That motion of his torso completely freed his cock from the inadequate confine of the dhoti. It stood up in all its youthful glory straight from between his legs as he sat himself up in a cross-legged position. 

"What "what"?" I smiled impishly and repeated.

      I stood up from the bed and  looked at his erection again and took in its beauty. It had definitely grown in size since our last encounter. It was a lot darker, as were the curls at its base. I could only see a few strands peeking out from under the fabric. The ruddy head, glistening from his passion, peeked out partially from under the stretched-out foreskin. My cunt muscles acknowledged the sight rather violently.

     Without any further ado, Sanju too got off the cot, and standing directly facing me craned his neck forward to land a kiss on my lips. I shuddered. I don't remember Bidyut ever being able to elicit a similar response. I closed my eyes and waited for more.

     Sanju obliged and, at the same time, started unbuttoning my kaameez. He was still standing a little away from me, as if wary of his cock touching my body. I let my hands drop and placed the palm of my left under it; and  I felt his kiss falter on my lips for a moment. He pulled his head away and looked into my eyes, his erect manhood twitching on my palm.

     The dampness of the afternoon, the smell of the wet grass drifting up from the field right outside Sanju's room, and the sound of the raindrops hitting against the outside walls... all seemed to conspire together to contribute to the dissolute mood that I found myself in.  Could I use the word "romantic" in describing such a forbidden afternoon? I wonder about it even today; but the moist warmth of that overcast afternoon did something that I had not felt before! It is best, therefore, to refrain from trying to confer any kind of legitimacy to it. I leave the readers to their own devices, and imaginations.

     I closed my fist lightly on him again, and slowly started to move it, sliding the satin skin  back and forth ever so gently. He opened his mouth to breathe and closed his eyes. His youthful face could not hide the delectation.

     I remember tugging slightly down, and I remember that we found ourselves on the hard cement floor. Sanju was almost naked anyway, his dhoti having come unraveled from his waist. I think I was the one that finally managed to unbutton my dress. As he slipped both his hands inside and placed them on my chest, the distending nipples sent jolts through my nerves... and my cunt throbbed...my thighs quivered...

"Oh... Shonadi..." Sanju mumbled against one of my breasts.

"Sanju..." I tried to respond, but no sound came out of my mouth. I parted my thighs in invitation, forgetting that I still had my saalwaar on.

     While my torso was essentially bare for all practical purposes, I was still rather modest from waist down.

     I felt his rod poking me where I wanted him to, but the entrance was blocked. He was pushing against me, nonetheless.

     In a panic, I shoved him off my body, and hurriedly sat  up. I panicked from the sudden apprehension that he might spend too soon even while he massaged himself against me as a matter of foreplay. I wanted his youthful enormity all inside me. My throbbing cunt was screaming out for something that I had never experienced. I had no idea how a warm hard cock would feel inside me, but I knew that I … my cunt … needed it, and urgently.

"What... why?" Sanju looked up at me with bewildered expression in his face, and then he looked at the door, "It is locked from inside, Shonadi!"

"Of course it is!" I panted out in a whisper, "I locked it myself."

"Then?" He wasn't sure why I wanted to stop at that point. The utter dejection in his eyes at the prospect of being left "high and dry" was obvious.

"What? Can I do anything with my saalwaar on?" I chuckled at him through my breathlessness.

     I wanted to convince myself that what was about to happen was just fine; and as I slipped out of my pajamas in a haste, I looked at his bold erection proudly standing up straight in the air. I could see the bead of gleaming pre-cum on it increase in size rapidly, and dribble down the side of the half-exposed glans already quite slippery from the height of his excitement.

     I reached out and squeezed the base of the head, and more of that clear fluid spilled out on my fingers. I couldn't remember if I felt this much pre-cum from his cock the last time. There wasn't sufficient illumination up on our roof that evening and we were feeling our way through most of our prurient affair.  I felt the inside of my cunt spasmodically beg for what I held between my fingers and, as if perfectly in phase, I felt Sanju's cock twitch in unison.

"Nnnnnnggghhh," escaped the unmistakable sound of pleasure from his mouth as he reached down to remove my hand from his organ. His eyes were shut tight and his teeth clenched, "Don't..." he pleaded, "I may..."

"So soon!" I didn't try to hide the panic in my voice; not that I was mindful of what or how I spoke. My body screamed out for sex and that's all I thought about.

"You are too much, Shona-di," Sanju opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as I let go of his engorged member. It stood straight, its purplish red bulbous head shining through the barely folded-back foreskin. The rest of his loin was still covered with his dhoti.

"You wanted it, didn't you?" Coquettishly, I looked into his eyes squarly as I pulled the crotch of my coton panties to one side and straddled him, "Now you will have to show me what all you have learned from your book."  At the back of my mind, I knew that he was not disposed to show me much of anything that afternoon.

"I need to go to the bathroom," he said.

"Not now!" I almost screamed, but it reminded me of the predilection of my own renal aparatus in working overtime during heightened activities of this kind.

"I do need to go," he pleaded, "Otherwise it will be over...fast"

"Oh, all right..." I liftted myself up reluctantly. He put on a pair of "jaangiaa" from his chest of drawers, fixed his dhoti, and exited.

     When Sanju was gone, I could have taken stock of what was about to happen, but I didn't...I couldn't find anything wrong with what my body was telling me to do.

     The more my sense of propriety tried to rein in my libido, the more my mind dwelt on the taboo, and more excited I got. My cunt throbbed uncontrolably and my nipples ached in their tautness. I closed my eyes and rubbed my palm across my clit ever so gently, sending shivers through my senses. Now that I think back, it was quite dangerous - what with the state I was in and the door being unlocked. Anybody could have just walked in on my almost bare form engaged in slow masturbation. But, nothing "untowardly" happened, before Sanju returned with a partially flaccid yet enlarged cock.

As he closed the door and locked it behind him, I sat up and asked, "You washed it well I hope?"

"Of course," he grinned impishly and stood in front of me. By the time I even thought of reaching  for his underwear, he already had simply pulled down the elastic of of his "jaangia"  to free his cock out. It got turgid fast right in front of my eyes, as if enjoying the freedom by inhaling the air outside of the confined sapce. The curly black pubic hair spilled over at its base. 

     I didn't wait for it to gain its full glory.  I sat up, hunched forward and took the head in between my lips. Both my hands were still busy betwen my legs.

"Ahhhhhhhnnnnng," I heard Sanju moan as I breathed in deep the aroma of his youthful sex.

     I didn't continue with that long. I don't remember exactly how that particular afternoon actually progressed and how it actually ended, but I remember the urgency that we both exhibited. I was aware of the acuteness of my own exitement and, in turn, of his.

     So, in no time, I was straddling Sanju — his dhoti and "jaangiaa" still in place — lowering myself on his majestically upright rod of warm flesh.

"Ohhhhh..." I sighed as I engulfed him to the hilt. I had not bothered to divest myself of my panties. I looked down and all I could see were our dark curls mingled together, nestled in the soft cotton fabrics of our clothes. I held my breath as I felt a surge of my own fluid bathe his massively erect manhood inside my "virgin" cave. I remember I was afraid to move, the sheer voluptuousness of the moment making me apprehensive of precipitating Sanju's climax too early.

"Shona-di," I heard him softly whisper, "Do you like it?"

     I nodded, for it would have been futile to express anything in spoken words. My body was a dollop of butter excruciatingly melting on my cousin three years my younger!  As I felt his member twitch inside me, I remembered the first time we touched each other in that very room. It was not as urgent an act as it was now.  I was in a more of a playful mood then and that exploration was almost solely a product of curiosity on my part. 

     This was different. This union might not have had an element of romance, but a feeling of togethernes, combined with the lusciousness that I was experiencing for the first time, made me rather tender towards him.  There was nothing tentative about it.  In my mind, this was the natural culmination of the passion that had had built up between me and Sanju over the couple of years. 

     As I said before, I don't remember the details of that afternoon, but I remember the feeling that even today lingers in my body … and in my mind. And I remember the look of embarrassment that had come over Sanju's face when he filled me up with copious amount of ejaculate - a full thirteen-day worth of it, I am sure.

     After a rather prolonged session of carressing each other with our teeth clenched and our hips cautioned at the slightest provocation towards undulation, I rolled over with him and invited him to take charge of the action according to his needs.

"Do it... slowly," I looked up at his eyes, folded my legs at my knees, spreading them far apart, and whispered. He was completely engulfed, our tummies tightly pressed with each other's. 

"Yesssss..." he hissed and he moaned. Then, he moved gently, rocking back and forth with his whole body, while his cock remained almost stationary, deeply impaled, inside my cunt, "Nnnnnnnnggggghhh, aaaaaah..."

"Yessssss, Sanju... my naughty Sanju, do it... yesss... slow... no... no... slow..." I had had to caution him with every wave that declared my own inevitable precipice. I remember how his cock barely moved inside me, yet my entire body received his heat through every pore, not the the least of which were at the tips of my aching nipples rubbing against his, as we looked into each other's lustful eyes.

"Yessss... Oh... Nnnnnnggggg... Shona-di," he would whisper back in complimentary tone,  "It's so hot inside... inside you... so good... I feel so good..."

"My sweet Sanju..."

"Shona-di... I am... oh... oh... Aaaaaaaaahhhhhngggg... nnnnnnnggghhh... ngh... ngh... nghhh... ahhh..." his eyes widened and his face went red, as I felt the warm fluid being poured inside of me, hitting the very core of my womanhood in repeated gushes...

"Yesss... yess... yesss... do it .. do it... do it... do it..." I had urged him on, trying to match the rythm of his climax.

     I tried to climax myself at the same time but I was - at that time - more mindful of Sanju's. So I waited, while my cunt took on a life of its own trying to pump his organ dry for the last bit of his hot semen.  

     To be honest, I don't remember ever practicing anything of the sort.  I used the muscles deep inside my cunt for the first time and came out a winner.  

"Ohhh... Sorry, Shona-di!" Sanju's whispered against my ear an ernest apology in English, and announced the end of his return back to the ground state! His steel-hard cock inside me was still convulsing and my cunt muscles still trying to squeeze out his last drop.

"Never mind that," I carressed his still "dhoti"-covered buttocks and started to move against him for my own release, "You stay as you are..."

"Ahhhh...nnnnnggg...yes" I heard him moan his assent.

     I moved against him and held his buttocks to keep his cock inside, as I felt it slowly starting to lose its resolve.  My swollen clit barely got any contact and I needed that extra stimulation. As I tried to get one hand in between our bodies, Sanju understood and whispered, "Let me..." and, in no time, one of his hands was gently massaging my mons with wonderful expertise.

"Ohhhhh... God! Sanju... my..." I mumbled under my breath, as the touch of his soft youthful fingers outside more than made up for his flaccidity inside me. It wasn't long before I was struggling to keep my senses together in an attempt not to bring down the whole household at the door in the middle of the afternoon.

"Like it... Shona-di?" he murmered against my ears and I let him know how much by simply increasing the tempo of my hips. I was in no condition to speak, and all I could vocalize was my imminent climax.

It was so near yet so far!

     I could only think of myself, and of my urgent need at the junction of our bodies, where the deft fingers of my cousin was delightfully engaged.

     He barely touched my clit, yet I could feel it receiving tiny packets of current everytime his fingers made a gentle pass on top. The stickyness of our mutual flow was making a slight smacking sound as I ground my cunt against him.

"Oh... Oh... Oh... Yesssssss!" I let him know and he started to move again inside me. A slow yet deliberate piston journeying back and forth inside my filled and slippery cunt...and...

"No... No... Wait... Aaaaaaaahhhh... No...  No... Don't..." By the time I realized that he was again hard inside me, and  before I could stop myself, his fingers had pushed me up, and over the very intense climax I was wanting to have. "Oh my... Sanju... You... Naughty..." I wanted to let him know that I would have very much liked to wait for his second one if only I had been conscious enough to detect his rejuvenation.

     But I was so totally exhausted from that prolonged, and mind-blowing orgasm that I could not speak coherently for several minutes.

"It's alright, Shonadi," Sanju moaned against my neck even as he moved his cock in and out and continued to massage the area around my clit. I couldn't help wonder about the source of his expertise. The way he did what he did around my cunt, it helped me prolong my climax and tapered its intensity gradually. I have had occassion to enjoy multiples, but they have been few and far between. While it wasn't a multiple that afternoon, it was close to being one.  My clit was terribly sensitive then, yet I didn't want to force his hand away from there.

"It's hard again, Sanju!" I mangaed to speak after a while, "I would have waited for you..." I heaved my buttocks up at him, as very slowly he glided his cock in and out. With my two free hands, I caressed his hips, and his buttocks as they barely moved. They were still covered with his dhoti.

"That's okay, Shonadi," he propped himself up on his elbow without breaking his rhythm, and looked into my eyes, "I like it this way." It impressed upon my mind so much that I remember it till this day the exact words he said as he rocked back and forth atop me: "I wanted to see your face when it happened to you."

     Well, that wasn't a very good translation of what he had said but there isn't any expression close enough in the English language. Despite my state of exhaustion, his words surprised me.  I would not have known that a "boy" of his age could even think along those lines. It was the "Kamasutra", he said, when later that evening I had asked him about his aptitude.

"I want to see the book!" I said, "I have never read it, and I am amazed at what it has taught you!"

"But I don't have it now, Shonadi," he had suddenly seemed a bit flustered at my request, "A friend had lent it to me and I returned it long ago."

"Oh... Darn!" I said in a mock frustration. I  didn't really care to see what "Kamasutra" had to do with Sanju's proficiency in handling a female body.  The fact that he had it in him was enough to make me want more of it in spite of myself.

      We were standing in front of the house in the dark and almost whispering to each other. There was absolutely no reason for us to be whispering, but we whispered, nonetheless. I was torn between the sense of taboo, and the wonderful feeling of having had sex with Sanju, and I was definitely feeling guilty for having "seduced" my youthful cousin. By the end of the evening, however, I had once agiain pushed all that aside and accepted it for what it was: pleasure, pure pleasure!

"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" Sanju had asked.

"I need to, Sanju, I have already missed a few classes" I had to convince him first before I found the strength in me to contemplate leaving for Calcutta.

"I know, it's just that..." he looked at me with a pair of animal eyes, and I almost decided to stay back for another month.

"Just what?" I asked.

"I thought we could...you know...do it again..."

"Imp!" That was all I could say. To be showing any kind of indignation at that would have been an utter falsehood. Besides, I noted the sexual tension in his voice and acknowledged in my mind that he had not spent the second time that afternoon.

"I like it this way," he had said again as I wanted him to continue and seek release, after I had had the most delightful orgasm with him inside of me. He simply moved slowly back and forth and I enjoyed my post-orgasmic languor till my vagina started to lose its lubrication.

     I had pushed him away and out of me and said, "Let me jack you off." I didn't mind using the very profane term, for I was by then completely liberated and I felt rather bawdy. I felt much at ease as I would if it were Debi lying on top of me. He, however, declined my generous offer and said that he prefered a climb together rather than alone.

"I like the feeling of being horny," Sanju said, "And, besides, I won't enjoy it as much if you don't come too...with me again."

"It's too soon for me yet," I kissed him on his forehead and said, "Especially after such a big one, anyway!" And I laughed in a low giggle.  Indeed, it had left me utterly satisfied as never before. 

     Were I then as knowledgable about the opposite sex and as worldly as I am today, Sanju's hebetude surely would have astonished me. That afternoon, however, it didn't seem any different than what I would have done in his place. I have often spent whole days moist in anticipatory moods. 

So, I didn't... I couldn't...stand in opposition when my shaved-headed cousin expressed his wish! I decided to offer myself up that night, as I surely had to leave for Calcutta the next day.

"We'll see," I said and looked at him, "but I do have to leave tomorrow."

"Oh... okay," he had muttered.

"Don't look so dejected, silly," I put some extra softness in my tone, "We still have a whole night!"

"Oh... Shona-di!" was all he could say. The anticipation in his voice was almost palpable.

     That night, after midnight — long after the exhausted household had gone to sleep — I heard the knock at my door. I let Sanju in quietly,  and we wasted little time in idle talk.

     His cock was already swollen and as he slipped out of his pajamas, slowly but steadily it rose up under his 'kurtaa'. The long traditional shirt he wore was pushed up in the front like a tent and I grabbed it as I sat down on the cot, facing him.  He reached out and put one of his hands inside the shirt-like nightdress I was wearing.

     Holding onto his steel-hard manhood with one hand, I unbuttoned my shirt, and he slid it off my body. I was naked except my panties.  The lights in my room were turned off and the windows were shut. It was a very moist and relatively cold night. We quickly got under the thin blanket and held each other tightly like long-starved lovers.

     I don't remember when or how, but sometime between him ridding me of my nightshirt, and us cuddling up together under the blanket, we had divested ourselves of the remaining civil hindrances.  The combined warmth of our bodies under the thin, traditional blanket felt wonderful. I felt the entire length of his youthful body against mine.  The hardness, from between his legs, pressed against my lower belly, transmitted his heat in continuous waves, like the uneven — yet rhythmic — ocean waves that hit the sandy shores.

     We caressed each other with slow deliberate strokes of our fingers and our palms. My nipples ached against his bare chest as his soft fingers found their mark between my legs.  I needed him to suck on them but I dared not break the continuity of what he was doing.  My mind fantasized of Debi attending to my breasts as Sanju lapped at my pussy with his eager tongue.  Soon there was Promila, her supple form entwined like a vine through our warm bodies. 

     I remember the subjects, and the outline of my fantasies (like some story that you had read a long time ago), but I don't remember the details of that night's lovemaking with Sanju.  I remember the intensity but not the motions.

     Even as I try to recollect the moment that we melted into each other, I become moist, and I feel dizzy with the memory of that carnal fever I had experienced that night. 

     I can remember that he had dipped his mouth in my nectar, and I had returned the favor by taking him in my mouth. 

     I remember the heady aroma of his manhood, and I can still taste his lightly astringent pre-cum in my mouth, but the actions seem a blur when I look back to that night of unbridled passion. 

     Even as I try to recount my feelings, I am overwhelmed by the entangled memories of that night.   It was a night of slow exploration of a kind I could only re-live in my head.  I want to describe every touch, every friction, every thrust; but I am afraid I will come up short.  That I cannot recall the details is even more frustrating, even though I remember the pleasure!

     Yes! Sanju was a man no doubt!  His youthful appearance notwithstanding, his virility that day is something I still reminisce about with utter fondness. 

     I later learned that while it was my first real encounter with someone of the oppsite sex, it wasn't so for Sanju!  He had described to me in every titillating detail how he enjoyed his first real intercourse with his "girlfriend" — now his wife — and I must admit that I had felt a slight pang of jealousy. It wasn't so much for him having sex with his girlfriend, but the revelation that I wasn't his first.  At the same time, my frail conscience was unburdened for being absolved of the slight guilt I had had felt as a "seducer" and "corruptor" of my cousin.  It turned out that, prior to that night, the young (or should I say, almost adolescent) couple had left no page of the famous "Kamasutra" unturned.  Well, as it turns out, Sukanya (his girlfriend, now wife) is also a couple of years older than him.

     Years later, when I met Sukanya, I had to admit to myself that it really would have been impossible for any boy to resist her.  After three children, she is still as irreristably sexy and attractive as she was when I first saw her.  She and I had grown to be quite good friends and from our conversations it was clear to me that Sanju had not kept much from her.  But that's another story.

     That night we enjoyed each other's body with such urgency that it had left me completely exhausted.  I slept till about nine the following morning. After the third (I think) and the final time, Sanju simply got up from the bed, got dressed and left the room.  The final orgasm was a much fainter one for me, and Sanju was basically dry.  I had no idea what the time was as I pulled the blanket over my head and fell asleep almost instantly. 

     When I woke up, I found Sanju sitting on the low stool aginst the far wall.

"What time is it?" I asked, without trying to get up.  I remembered that I was naked under the blanket.

"Nine," Sanju answerd and smiled, "I wanted to make sure that no one else comes knocking at the door for you." 

"Thanks," I said in English, "Very thoughtful, indeed!"

"Well, it would have been rather embarassing," he said, "I didn't want to take the chance."

     That was the quintessential Sanju!  Always the gentleman. He got up, went outside the room to stand guard at the door as I got dressed.  When I openend the door, he was leaning against the banister and looking out at the large pond in their backyard.

     That afternoon, I returned to Calcutta and Sanju made me promise that I would be back soon.  Except for a very faint sense of guilt that I was feeling, things were rather natural and easy between us from that morning.  It was Sanju who visited Calcutta before I had the chance to return to their house.

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End Part 28 (to be contd.)