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 My Story (Part 9)

"I had been thinking about you a lot!" He said as we walked side by side along the concrete paths that crisscross the 'Lily Pool' park by the 'Lake'.

      When I was a kid, it used to be a nice park, complete with small animals and birds. Bureaucracy and corruption in the municipality did it in. Now all that remained were a few run-down gazeboes and the man-made stream that wound its way around and through the park. I had not been there in several years and the obvious signs of neglect all around me were making me sad...

"Oh!..." that's all I said in return — I think. I was preoccupied, trying to reconcile my childhood memories with the dilapidation around me. Debi and Ajit were several steps in front of us... hand in hand walking towards the exit. We had to leave before six.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Dipankar stopped and said — in English. The keenness in his voice drew my attention. I suddenly became aware of myself.

"Yeah; and pray why?" I inquired softly, in English — and felt blood rushing to my cheeks as my own affected inflections echoed in my head. I have never been bashful; but as a Bengali girl of eighteen I had to be a little demure — in spite of myself. Truth be told, I had dreams — some of them rather fervent — that involved him. I guess it was to be expected, what with all the raunchy fantasies that Debi and I shared.

And, did I mention that Dipankar was terribly handsome?

"Why? Don't you look at yourself in the mirror?" He craned his head down a little and almost whispered back.

"I do; but what's that got to do with anything?" I wasn't giving up being coy.

"Sharmi, I know we have not talked a whole lot, but I haven't had a good night's sleep since I met you..." He said.

"Well, Valium or good solid exercise..." I liked what I was doing, "You need to make sure that your parasympathetic system does not overwhelm you." I wanted to be flippant too.

"Huh?!" The Engineer looked at me with bewilderment.

"Never mind," I said.

"So... ? Whad'ya have to say?" Dipankar insisted — in American.

"O... I don't know..." I still wouldn't give in. For the first time I caught a fish and I wanted to play with it — even at the risk of being thrown overboard. I started walking again. We caught up with Ajit and Debi and the conversation did not proceed any further that evening.

      Dipankar's parents had, by then, bought a flat near the Lake and he stayed there whenever he visited Calcutta. Ajit's elder brother had gotten married and there weren't enough room at the old house. The four of us walked and talked heading towards Gariahat. The leisurely stroll with Dipankar made me feel happy. The crowd of shoppers, teeming through the congested hub of South Calcutta, provided perfect excuse for Dipankar's seemingly inadvertent brushes against my body. A few times, as he took up position behind me in the sluggish sea of people, I was delightedly made aware of his obvious affection for me.

      The short but slow stretch between Gol Park and Gariahat 'mercado' — a claustrophobe's nightmare — seemed too short as we reached the crazy intersection of Rashbehari Avenue. I never imagined myself wanting to go back into that stifling crowd in a muggy evening, but that was exactly what I wanted to do that evening... just to be in a physical proximity with my Apollo! But as luck would have it, my ride home — the infernal 'Number 2' — pulled up almost empty.  Well, as empty as would preempt any suggestion of waiting for the next one. The woman in me, not willing to betray my feelings, 'eagerly' boarded the bus.  I even found a seat by the window.  As I looked out, all three raised their hands and waved. They were going back to Dipankar's place.

      I could not fall asleep easily that night. I was thinking of Dipankar.  Was I in love? I had never thought about it this seriously before. He had been a part of my fantasies all along... but that evening changed something. With the first meaningful conversation, he had let me know about his feelings for me; and I — although elated and flattered — did not know how to react. I knew I was attracted to him; and that it was different from the attraction I felt for Ajit. I wanted Dipankar to be part of our sexual escapades but at the same time I wanted to be absolutely alone with him. As my thought turned towards sex, I felt the familiar stir in my stomach that gradually spread through my body. I took my hand to my legs and stroked — gently. I wondered how Ajit's American cousin would feel if he knew about Debi and me. I wondered if the two cousins still exchanged pleasures. I decided it was time I listened to my body; and I found myself imagining Dipankar's naked form.

      I got up from the bed and retrieved the thick candle that I used to keep hidden away in my desk drawer. It wasn't easy saving one, for the frequent 'load-shedding' by the Calcutta Electric Supply generally made it impossible to have enough candles around. The one that I had was of the thick kind — and Debi thought that it was about the same girth as the one between Ajit's legs. That night, though, it stood in for Dipankar's...

      The cold wax was just there to fill up my wet cave. I felt the soft muscles inside me gripping it in spasms as I massaged my breasts under my night-shirt, my hands transforming themselves into Dipankar's. With every spark shooting out from my hard nipples, the candle was being pushed out by the contractions of my slippery cunt. I held my thighs together — and the 'cock' — in place. I enjoyed my fantasy of being pleasured by Dipankar's manhood (which, I was confident, would be warmer and match his comeliness).

"Aaaahhh... Dipankar... do me... put your thick hard cock inside me... yessss... Dipankar... do me... fuck... fuck.... fuck me... hard... screw me.... " I whispered his name and moaned my raunchy profanities over and over again till I felt my stomach muscles tighten in preparation for the final delight. I squeezed both my taut nipples hard between my fingers and — even as my cunt started its convulsions — I pressed my thighs tight together to hold the candle in place, half buried in the deep recess of my womanhood.

"Aaaaannnngh... " I climaxed... blissfully...

      I was blushing by myself in the shower the morning after. A strange feeling had engulfed me since the solo of the night before... albeit complete with Dipankar's shadowy presence. I wanted to see him badly... his handsome face and his beautiful body a constant source of arousal for me.

      We sat in the movie theater, his hand in mine. My heart pounded as I tried to concentrate on the film playing on the screen. I don't even remember its name! All four of us had decided — on the spur of the moment — to catch a movie and Debi suggested the film. All I recollect is that it was one of those run-of-the-mill movies from Bombay. It had titillating scenes aplenty — enough to earn it a solid 'A' rating.

      After a while, I adjusted myself leaning ever so slightly towards him... the side of my supple breast denting against his arm. I could almost feel him tense up at the feel; and then he relaxed. I looked in his direction and found him looking at me. A thrill overcame my senses and I took his hand, brought it up to my lips and gently planted a kiss on his palm. I could feel him shudder...

      The two weeks leading up to that evening had brought us to a point where each of us knew where we stood with each other. Nothing singular was ever verbalized in any form... yet I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew! (Well... I always wanted to write that down and see how that sounded; and now that I've done it, I must say that I couldn't have expressed it better. But I'll try and refrain from repeating this.)

      Debi was truly happy about it. Since we four were almost always together, it was quite obvious — the mutual pull between Dipu and me, I mean — to the other two. One night, as Debi and I lay in each other's arms in my room, she mused about him and me and got all worked up just talking about a still hypothetical night of amorous lovemaking between us.

"You sure you are not... ?" I had had to interject.

"Don't be stupid Sharmi..." She had pinched my butt and added, "Ajit is far better looking..."

"No way... Dipu is like a Greek God" I had laughed.

"Seriously... I get wet just imagining you two together" Debi had said, "Do you think I can join in...?"

"Oh yeah? And what about Ajit?"

"Sure... he can join too..." with that we had laughed... nervously.

      Strange, how a fantasy that Debi and I shared as a part of our lovemaking could sound so scandalous now. Scandalous — but no less stimulating. Talking about the ignominiously delicious prospects, we had made the most of our excitement that night.

      Following the lead from my unexpected kiss on his palm, Dipankar put his arm over and around my shoulder and let the hand rest on the slope of my breast — the 'aanchal' of my saari the only barrier between his beautiful fingers and my skin. I froze, every muscle in my body flexing at once; and, at that instant, I wished I had worn my saari in reverse and not in the usual Bengali way. I still melted — my earlobes felt like they were on fire. I did not move for several minutes — uncertain about any signal I might give out that would cause him to withdraw his arm.

      I looked at Debi from the corner of my eyes, and I found her head slightly turned toward me; and, in the light reflecting off the silver screen, I detected a familiar twinkle in her eyes. I turned my head in her direction slightly and smiled; and she smiled back her approval at me. I am not sure if I was waiting for a direction from my cousin, but my body relaxed instantly.

      From the way his hand rested on me, I gathered he was tense too. Having overcome my initial awkwardness, I let my hand slip from the armrest and onto his lap, bringing it to rest on his thigh. Dipankar let out a gentle sigh and, without moving his gaze, let his hand loose on my breast.

      I slowly moved my hand further to where his fly was and rested it on the obvious bulge. This time his breathing became audible. He traced circles with his fingers on the slope of my breast. I looked at him and marveled at his sharp handsome profile. He detected my stare and a sanguine smile broke out on his face. Letting its weight go on his lap, I moved my hand very gently up and down along the length of bulge. It throbbed.

      So did my heart and my womanhood. I squeezed my thighs and a shiver ran up my stomach, and to my already taut nipples. I thought Dipankar felt it too, for he momentarily became bold and placed his hand directly over my breast — cupping the soft mound with his palm. Through the saari... through the thin fabric of my blouse... through my bra, I could feel the warmth of his hand. My nipples ached to be freed; and to be touched. Dastardly, I wished Debi could put her hand between my legs and relieve me of my arousal. I could not bring myself to induce the person beside me — who had engendered the state — to do anything about it; nor did I do anything to relieve the pressure I had helped build up between his legs, to be honest! For the rest of the time in the darkened cinema, Dipankar's hand played on the slope of one of my breasts with ever so light a touch, while I let his member throb under my fingers — the thick fabric of his pants seemingly straining at the seams.

      When it was time to leave the theater, I was shivering from the unresolved excitement. My body ached from the strain of having to be at the dizzying height for so long. I looked at Debi and she immediately recognized the look on my face.

"What?" She inquired under her breath, "Did you guys...?"

"No!" I whispered back, out of the Ajit's and Dipankar's earshot; they were walking out through the gate ahead of us. "I'll tell you later." What I felt comfortable talking about in Ajit's presence, somehow was out of the question in his cousin's company — despite the emotional nearness that had developed between us.

Or, was it due to it?

      I myself couldn't fathom my shyness. The mere thought of Dipankar made me horny; yet I could not take the initiative! I knew that if I had given the slightest "go ahead", his hand would have been inside my blouse the next instant — but my Bengali prudence made me bashful. 'Maybe I'm just too grown up!' I thought to myself.

      The four of us sat down at a nearby tea shop and had tea and egg-toast. Amidst the constant noise of automobiles and the acrid exhausts that seemed to blanket the sidewalk, I suddenly realized I was hungry! As I savored the spicy egg- toast and sipped at the hot brown concoction, I reflected on that evening's advances. While a part in me wanted to pull the rein back, the libidinous me was feeling disappointed for not having gone at least as far as Debi and Ajit went routinely in darkened theaters. I was feeling the emptiness at the possibility that such an opportunity might not present itself anytime soon.

       Dipankar was to leave in a couple of days and the three of them talked about his next visit. I demurely concentrated on my tea. I heard him say something like, "I would if I'm wanted here..." or something equally cliché like that. Debi was more forthright and said, "We will be looking forward to your next visit, and that includes Sharmila, I'm sure."

"Sure. So when is your next visit?" I heard myself saying almost matter-of-factly; and the next instant I could have killed myself for not even have tried to be a bit more romantic.

"When?" Dipankar tried to fathom me, I am sure, "Oh... I don't know, maybe next summer again." He must have been perplexed beyond his wits; especially after the light intimacy at the movie.

"Why are you acting as if you didn't care?" Debi said with a slight hint of irritation in her voice.

"But I do... I do... and Dipu knows it too; don't you?" I smiled at him. We looked into each other's eyes and a lot was said at that instant. I knew that he would be back sooner than the next summer; and my body had already started to react in anticipation.

+++++++++ (End Part 9)

(To be Continued).

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