Far in the East Ch. 02

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I sit atop Ranima. Her pallu is spread out on the floor. She is smelling of sandalwood. And jasmine. I am still sobbing. And confused. I lower my head on to her right nipple. It is like a fig now. Swollen and comforting. I put it to my mouth and suck. She slowly removes my hand which is encircling her. She brings it to the front and places it below her left breast. She holds my hand and guides me. “Rub it son, from bottom to top.”

I follow her command. Ranima slowly but with a lot of gentleness lays me down, with my head on her lap. She then lowers her face and asks

-“do you want to kiss me?”

I nod my head. Ranima smiles and shakes her head. “That will not do. You have to say loudly whether you want to kiss me or not.”

I attempt feebly “I want to kiss you Ranima.”

She laughs out “you are so shy. Of course my son, I shall kiss you”. She puts her lips on mine and then starts a process. She sucks, she bites, she licks with her tongue and opens my mouth. She inserts her tongue in my mouth and plays with my tongue. She tastes of lassi. Sweet and sour. Occasionally, she takes her lips off, puts her finger in her mouth, takes saliva and rubs it on my lips. She moisturises. She tastes like a cow – I think. It continues for five minutes till she raises her head. Simultaneously, she opens the buttons of my shirt, skillfully removes it and throws it off. She tweaks my nipples and after she is finished with kissing me, looking at my face with a charming smile, enjoying my befuddlement. She once again lowers her mouth and sucks my nipples, one after another. I had never known that my nipples, a man’s nipples, are so sensitive. I feel that I will burst out in pleasure. I arch my back, like a bow. Ranima ignites me. I want to forget everything and submit to her.

Ranima then quickly inserts her hand into my waistband and pulls out the string that holds my pajama. She is quick and deft in drawing the string and untying the knot. In one swift movement, she takes it off and throws it away also. I am once again nude in front of Ranima. And this time I have an aching erection. Ranima stands up and holding my hand she takes me to the bedstead. She makes me sit there. “See – look at yourself – why are you jealous? People should be jealous of you, instead. You have such a nice stuff, my son. You should be proud.” She inspects kurtuluş escort me. Hands on her waist. Bare chest. I wish I could draw a picture of her. The saree tied at her navel, pallu on the floor, a sweaty body. Slightly panting. Heavy but firm.

-“do you want to watch me?” she asks.

-“I am watching you, Ranima,” I say.

-“Idiot. Not like that. Do you want to watch me nude? Without any clothes?” Once again I nod my head.

-“Please say loudly. What do you want?” she asks.

This time I manage to say loudly “you are beautiful Ranima, please take off your clothes. I want, I really want to watch you nude?”

“Do it. Take off my clothes. But do not hurry.” She draws my hand to her waist where the saree is knotted. She watches as I untie the knot and then lift off the edges from her waist, there are several rounds and it has to be done slowly, till it comes off. Below the saree she is wearing a saya – a white cotton toe-length skirt tied to her waist. But just below the knot there is a triangular empty patch from where her skin is visible. I insert my fingers there and untie the knot. The saya opens but does not fall off. It sticks to her pelvis. She, like a mischievous young girl, sways her hips and the saya slowly falls to her feet.

She is standing in the nude before me. Hands on hips. Broad hips. I cannot see her slit. She does not shave but her hair is trimmed. No – she does not have an hourglass figure. But she is a true mother. Like the earth. Tapering thighs, strong calf muscles. And there is a gap where both the thighs meet.

And through that gap I see that the door opens and Tisha and Amit enter – both giving a gasp seeing us like that.

Tisha’s story

I have told Sanjay that I love Amit too. I have confessed. I cannot hold back the truth any more. Sanjay has left. Now I cannot wait any more. I must finish what I had set out to do. I run out of the room and knock on Amit’s door.

Amit opens the door. Still wearing the shorts. A tall strapping young boy. He has beard. They are soft and pliable. He smells of deodorant all the time. Old Spice – I think. A bare chest – not broad but strong. A flat stomach. Strong, lean legs. I forget to close the door behind me. I run and hug Amit. Like in movies. Amit takes me inside. He too, does not have levent escort time. He pushes me against the study table. Our lips lock. Our bodies press against each other. After a long time I touch and feel a firm male body. I rub against it. I just want to take whatever I can – all the pleasure that it offers. Amit presses my boobs. There is just no time for foreplay. We are too pent up with longing. Our combined desires explode and the heat pervades the room. It explodes in sweat. Amit wants to rip off my sleeveless white cotton blouse. Before he can do that, I unbutton myself. And before he can reach, I pull down the skirt. I want Amit to see me. But he does not have time. He sucks me everwhere. He scratches me everywhere. Red marks develop on my arm, on my cheek and on my breast. I shall boast of these marks. I shall tell everyone with pride that these are the fruits of my passion, yes they are by Amit. I shall take his nude photo and show all my girlfriends.

I pull down Amit’s boxer shorts. He is travelling with a huge erection from the morning. The poor boy must be really suffering. I hold his balls. They are small and tight. And he does not shave. The hair, like his beard, is fresh, sprightly and young. I lick the skin of the balls along with the hairs. Put them in my mouth suck them and plop them out. The boy, my lover, is not circumcised. And it is with difficulty that I push back the foreskin from the pinky rose knob. Does he wince with pain? Yes, he does. I like that. He must learn to suffer at my hands. He must bear the pain of love. As I run my tongue around the red knob he pulls me up and pushes me against the table. The table is about a foot away from the wall. It screeches and hits the wall. I fall back. I could have hurt myself!

The young guy does not care. He lifts me and throws me on the table, rips apart my legs and pushes in his hard staff into me. It is slender – have not I told, before? I want him to thrust into me more than he did when he was masturbating in Delhi, he betters that. He pushes in and pulls out in frenzied movement … thadak, thadak … I know that we are making a lot of animal noise. I know that the door is open and we have forgotten to close it. But I do not care. My entire body, which clings to my friend’s chest, I am practically hanging like a large huge papaya maçka escort from an overburdened tall and slender tree, is trembling with pleasure. No, I do not think I have ever had this feeling. Not with anyone else before. I have closed my eyes. I have submitted to a rod pushing into my belly over and over again with no respite.

And then I come. It is like a thunderclap which never ends. It comes and comes. It is like an unending strom down my stomach, my pelvis, my slit. The muscles contract and expand in regular rhythm. The rivulet of liquid that gushes out – they are more like my urine than my juice … they drench Amit’s penis. Amit also cannot withstand such massage. He shouts and he spews out gallons of sperm into my basin.

We are over. I have done it. I put my head on Amit’s shoulder. I know that I cannot live without him. I do not know where and how this will end. But at this time, at this hour, I just want to sniff his sweat mingled with the odour of his cum. At this time, I want our sweats to mingle as I clutch him. I love the trickle of juice mixed with Amit’s cum that is flowing down my thigh. I want to taste it but I cannot take myself off from Amit’s body to do that.

We are over in fifteen minutes. Then Amit carries me to the bed. We lie there still in the nude. We kiss each other. After sex kisses are the best in the world. It seems that all veils have been lifted and there is no barrier.

“How is this going to end, Tisha?” Amit asks. It does not have to, I say. Let us talk to our mother in law and Sanjay. We have to discuss this. We cannot keep it a secret. In any case, both of them already know. Thus decided, we dress up. Meaning, I fondly pick up Amit’s shorts and pull it up his legs, fondling his limp but still long penis before putting it back into civilisation. Amit first helps me with the blouse and then with the skirt.

-“Why don’t you wear a panty?” Amit asks.

-“Would you like me to?” I ask him.

-“Not really,” he says.

-“That’s why.” I reply.

We hold hands and go to Rani’s room. Sanjay is nowhere in sight.

Rani’s doors are open. As we enter – we let out a gasp. We are not prepared for this. Sanjay is sitting on the bedstead … with amazement in his eyes, completely nude. And Rani is standing with her back to us … not a piece of cloth on her, in front of Sanjay, gently swaying her hips. She is swaying her hips. I have never seen such shapely hips in my life. They rise line narrow hills in perfect symmetry from her waist … what are they doing? We look at each other and do not know what to say or do.

Will be concluded.

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