1997 - A Long Time Ago Pt. 01: Foreplay

For the last ten minutes, a thought that kept intruding into my mind was what Meena had told me about her one sexual experience to date. I was ever conscious of that and didn't want to do anything to frighten her away from our developing physical adventure. We were both relative novices at this but I think neither of us wanted to repeat the negatives of earlier, wanting instead to explore the boundaries that our instincts would drive. We sipped our libations and sat in a comfortable silence till I picked up the Walkman, turned over the cassette and played Side 1 again. I noticed Meena had drained her glass once more before reaching across me to place it on the bedside table.

Her breasts hung over my thighs, lightly brushing them as she bent over to reach for the table. The back of her blouse exposed a substantial portion of uncovered skin from the waist up to her neck; I placed one hand there, feeling the ridges of her spine. The maid didn't straighten up; instead she placed her tumbler on the table and continued to stay prone across my limbs, her breasts now flattened against my thighs. I took another sip of my drink and lightly skimmed my fingers over her bare flesh, tracing along her backbone up to her neck. I let my fingers play behind her ears, pushing her open hair to one side and bunching it over a shoulder.

After a final gulp of the rum, I placed the glass on the table and brought my other hand to her head, fingers running through the long tresses of hair. I heard the patter of rain start up again, drumming lightly against the window pane and the terrace outside. In a few minutes, it came down in a heavy downpour and the incessant sound filled the room almost drowning the strains of Ravi Shankar and Friends. The maid rose from her semi-prostrate position across my lap, her hair brushing past my face, and pushed herself backwards in the bed. Lifting her feet off the ground, she moved to her earlier corner and lay down with her head on the pillow.

After a minute of silence and no movement, she pulled on the light blanket that lay crumpled beneath her and unfurled it so as to cover herself. Then I felt her hand on my upper arm, fingers encircling my biceps, and pulling me down on to the bed. Without a word, I raised my feet off the ground and shifted on the bed till I was next to her before sliding down the length to lie beside her, my shoulders next to her head. She lifted the cover over me and let the blanket settle across our bodies. She turned on her side and looked at my face briefly before stretching her neck so that her sweet lips could reach the underside of my chin.

She nuzzled for a while, her warm breath against my cheek, before I lowered my head to look at her. In the dim wash of lamplight, her skin had a rich golden hue to the chocolate tan as I ran the fingers of one hand over her face and shoulders. I looked down and saw that the drape of her saree was askew, revealing the fairer complexion at the top of her breasts and the blouse stretched taut across the breadth of her bosom. My palm scraped across the cotton blouse and I was immediately aware of the protruding nipples as they hardened to my touch. Not wanting to scare her with any sudden moves, I kept my hand lightly on her chest but dragged it across the bulging expanse. My hand followed the rounded firm contours from side to side, then from the bottom to the top, teasing her nipples as it roamed over them.

I heard a deep exhalation from the maid as she pushed her chest against my palm, her limbs squirming against my thighs. Twisting my body slightly towards her, I let my fingers roam over her chest for a minute or two more before letting them probe the beginning of her cleavage. Since she was lying on her side, her boobs were pressed against each other, creating a very deep crevice between them even though they were not supported by a brassiere. I slowly pushed two fingers into the gap and felt the pressure of the firmness on both sides, the warmth of its cushioned embrace, as also the slight moisture of perspiration in the depths.

As her body pressed against mine, I felt her throw an arm over my waist and her fingers burrow under the t-shirt on my back. Unlike the last time she did this when she was half asleep, I felt more encouraged with her conscious physical move this time. My hand was still ensconced in the deep gap between her almost conjoined breasts as we lay on our sides, facing towards each other. Her face was aligned with my neck and chest as I tried to manoeuvre my hand inside her blouse. But the garment was very close fitting and had no elasticity so I extracted my hand and rubbed over the fabric instead. The light throw-over covering had slipped down to our waist and hips so I could see the shaded protrusions of what looked like large nipples pushing out against the blouse. I flicked them lightly over the blouse, forcing them erect and upright as they jutted out against the black clothing.

In the feeble glow of the desk lamp, I spied the buttons running down the front of her bodice. They were actually tiny hooks on one side that went into loops on the other; four of them from the base of the v-shaped neckline to the waistband below. Unsure of what to do next, I reached tentatively for the top one and pushed it out of the loop, then the second and third without any resistance from the girl. As the flaps opened up in the front of her top, I pushed the sides over the smooth upsurge of her tits and felt one of her nipples before actually seeing it. When my eyesight probed through the shadowy dimness, I saw it large and dark, almost black, sitting upright in the centre of a deep brown areola. I took it between my thumb and forefinger, gently feeling its rough texture and rigidity as Meena let out a groan loud enough to penetrate through the ambient noise of the rain outside.

I felt her palm hard in the small of my back as she pulled me towards her, pushed her groin forward and bent her knee to push it between my thighs. I fumbled with the last clasp on her blouse and finally managed to disengage it, pushed the front flap away and took one massive breast in my grip. Her fingernails raked along the surface of my back as I felt the talon-like pressure move up the taut muscles, digging in as she clawed at them. Pushing the sleeve off her shoulder, I reached for the other side of the bodice; the maid raised herself on one elbow as I undressed her torso and pushed the garment away from her. I looked at her face as she allowed me to disrobe her; her eyes were shut and a sheen of perspiration ran across her upper lip.

In a similar urge of desperate passion, she began to push my t-shirt up from the waist towards my neck so I sat up for a few seconds, removed the vest and let it drop to the floor on my side of the bed. Then turning back to her, I slithered down the bed a few inches and took her in my arms. Her massive tits mashed against my chest as we held each other tight, my hands roving all over her back. For a long while we lay like that in each other's arms, naked above our waists, fingers roaming over the surface of youthful skin. We kissed, faltering and hesitant; she with her mouth shut while my tongue slobbered across her lips. I kissed her cheeks and her neck, nibbled at one of her ear lobes, tongue probing the opening till she quivered and pressed her body harder against mine.

Lying on my left side facing her, my right hand traversed all over her front and back and her left side. I palmed over her bare shoulder and upper arm while she continued to stroke my back; I felt the deep curvature of her waist and the rise of her hip; I stroked along her spinal cord down from her neck and centre of her back to the top of her petticoat. Sections of her saree that should have been tucked in to the underskirt had dislodged from their insertion and I could see the dark shade of the undergarment tied with a drawstring. I ran a finger along the line of the petticoat which was tied low over her hips, my hand over her waist and stomach; I paused as I reached the hollow of her navel, circled it and felt the flatness of her stomach below.

The in-skirt was tied so low below her belly button, I thought I would touch the upper fringes of her pubic hair if I could get past the drawstring. If she had pubic hair, that is; otherwise the smooth mound of her vulva. As I continued to finger along the waistband, more parts of the tucked in saree got untrussed and freed from the confines of her undergarment. The cord, which was looped through a channel that went around the waist of the underskirt, was tied off-centre somewhere between the middle and her hip-bone. There was a three or four inch cut in the garment at the point where the drawstring was tied in a bow knot, revealing just a shadow of skin underneath.

I had to hold back my basic and more prurient instincts from undressing her completely without either her explicit, or implied, consent for fear of alarming or unnerving her. So I kept my hand on her belly as she turned and lay supine on her back, one of her hands lightly stroking her breasts. She caressed herself, taking the large mounds into her hand and fondling them one by one; then she raised her other forearm and with both hands stroked her bosom. She pushed her full mammaries from the outside in, from the bottom up, from the valley to the tips, all in a continuous motion of sensuality and suggestiveness.

Without the support of her blouse, her large breasts leaned to either side of her torso as she lay on her back, but they were still firm and succulent. She took both her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and twisted the abutments, pulling gently along their length. The dark brown areolas were almost two inches in diameter and centred in them were grape-sized nipples that looked black in the shadows. I looked at her face and saw such blissful contentment across her visage, I almost felt like a voyeur spying on her private passion.

But then she placed one of her hands on mine and drew it up from her belly to her right breast, holding it over the fleshy mound and manoeuvring it over the surface. I felt the solidity of the nipple graze against my palm as she moved my hand from side to side and from the base to the top of her breast. Her other hand continued to fondle her left breast, plucking at the dark nipple, twisting it, rubbing against it. She continued for a couple of minutes till I couldn't resist the urge to lower my head and find her lips with my mouth, fervently beginning to kiss all over and around them.

She removed a hand from her chest and I felt her fingers plough through my hair as she pulled my head down. This time she parted her lips; they were soft and pliant so I thought there was no tension in her as she allowed me to probe. I kept it gentle, our lips touched lightly and I took her lower lip between mine, feeling the smooth wetness as I tried to breathe slowly. I could feel her breath, gentle and calm as we absorbed the sensations of our first real kiss. I took my hand away from her breast and rested it against the side of her face, gently holding her cheek as our lips continued to osculate. My chest was pinioned against her full breasts, the heat from our bodies blending together as the erection in my jeans pushed against her thigh.

As the tip of my tongue skirted her lips, I felt her mouth open slightly and her jaws unclench; I pushed between her upper and lower teeth, probing till our tongues finally touched each other. The wonder of the moment was so intense, my eyes opened and I saw her staring at me for a second before she shut her own eyes. I probed further and our tongues played together in a slow dance, feeling the newness of the experience. Then I felt her push her tongue past my lips and into my mouth; I sucked it in, not wanting her to take it away. The kissing became more fervent and passionate as the minutes went by, and then suddenly we both drew away simultaneously to inhale a deep breath before locking lips again.

Her fingers raked my hair, alternating between clutching them in lumps and combing through them. I removed my hand from her face and ran my fingers over her neck and shoulders before bringing them down to her breast. Lifting my chest off her, I let my hand move over her bosom from one side to the other; I felt the nipples hard and jutting against my palm as they traversed all over the massive orbs. I raised my right leg, bent my knee slightly and draped it over her thighs as I pushed my groin against her. My hand moved feverishly over her body, my mind soaking in the physical and emotional passion that was electrifying my whole being. Her breasts, her stomach, her arms, her hips, her waist, all seemed to be burning against my hand as I drowned my senses in the overpowering physicality of this moment.

Resting on one elbow by her side, I raised myself to look at her face and body; with my sight adjusted to the faintly illuminated room, I saw her heaving breasts as she breathed. My hand continued to trace imaginary lines all over her torso, cupping her breasts, feeling their heaviness and solidity, the unyielding stiffness of dark nipples, the sharp indent of her waist, the deep-seated belly button in shadow, the flatboard stomach, and the slight swell of her abdomen before it curved in to the petticoat's low waistline. The tips of my fingers coursed over the undulations of her body like feathers brushing air as she squirmed under my touch and moaned softly. I moved my leg, bent at the knee and hooked over her hip, pressing against her as it rubbed over her saree-draped thigh.

The maid took her left hand and placed it on her lower abdomen, inches away from my scraping knee. Her fingers bent as she clawed over her dress, pressing just above her crotch. Her hand went lower till her fingers were clearly embedded in the folds of the saree, digging into her pudenda. I placed my hand over hers as her fingers tore into her crotch, feeling the pressure with which she rubbed over the clothes. Very gradually, I mingled my fingertips with hers and we applied pressure together over her cunt, my groin pressing hard against the side of her thigh. My face was over hers again, our tongues savagely lashing inside each other's mouths, lips rubbing over one another's.

She was gradually introducing me to her pleasure points, erogenous zones of her body that she was familiar with when "she did sex with herself." I was longing to add more to her experience even though my own sexual awareness was not much more than hers. With my fingers still entwined in hers as we pressed against her vulva beneath the saree and petticoat, I lowered my head from her face to her chest. My lips whispered across the expanse of her bosom, flitting lightly in the valley between her breasts, gliding over the rise of her boobs on either side till I reached the top of her left one and sucked the nipple into my mouth.

Disentangling my fingers from hers, I brought my hand up to her breast and sucked the solid nipple, drawing it in between my teeth. I lashed the stiff protuberance with my tongue, flicking it from side to side, then nibbling ever so gently. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I heard the maid moan as she raised her torso off the bed, pressed herself against my face and simultaneously dug her fingers over her genitalia. I rolled myself on top of her, freed my left arm from under me, and brought both hands to her bust and pushed her mammaries inwards. I buried my face in the crevice between them and pushed my tongue out, savouring the salty tang of light perspiration.

My mouth ravished both nipples one after the other, my tongue running circles around the large areola and the base of her teats, letting my teeth graze against them. Meena parted her thighs as I wedged myself between them, the bulge in my trousers bearing down over the folds of her petticoat and saree. With her knees bent and pointing away from her body, we both ground our pelvic region on one another's while my mouth devoured her luscious breasts. I took my right hand away from her chest and brought it down to her left limb, caressing from the ankle up to her knee and then down along her thigh. This was an audacious move on my part, perhaps even reckless, but I was finding it increasingly difficult to restrain myself.

With the erection in my jeans crushing into her privates, our hips gyrating together, the fever was beginning to burn. Her saree and underskirt had risen past her folded and upright knees, and the hem had dropped down around her waist. The woman found my hand and drew it downwards, forcing our fingers together towards her pelvic region. I had to lift my body off her belly and abdomen by a few inches to allow our hands to sneak in between her thighs; she unbent her right knee and straightened her leg so I could roll off her to the side.

The maid held my fingers in her grip and pushed it on top of her panties, rubbing along the gash of her vaginal opening. I felt the wetness of her sodden undergarment as my fingertips were guided along the crack by her handgrip. Above the cleft, I felt the plush mound of her pubic bush and wanted desperately to push aside the cotton panties but resisted the urge, waiting instead for her to guide my hand. I leaned into her and took one of her nipples into my mouth, laving the stiff nub with my tongue as my lips encircled the dark orb of her areola. I heard her groan as she pushed her bosom against my face and pressed my fingertip hard on her pudenda.

She rubbed her thighs together, clamping our hands between them, writhing and flailing her legs as her moans grew louder and the movement of our fingers more feverish. I bit her nipple lightly before lashing my tongue over it and sucking as much of her teat into my mouth as possible. My hard-on was achingly uncomfortable inside my jeans but I thrust my middle against the side of her body, her bare hip, letting her feel the heat and the hardness through the denim. With my head over her chest, I heard her moaning turn into a deep groan emanating from her throat only an inch from my ear as she gripped my fingers tightly in her hand and pushed it into the crevice through her panties.

I finally disengaged my fingers from hers and brought my hand up to her belly, feeling the smooth flatness for a while, the pit of her navel, and then pushed my palm lower. When my fingertips encountered the elastic band of her panties, I slipped them under it and almost immediately felt the outer fringe of her pubic hair. Not stopping, I pushed further till my palm covered the thick mat of scrub, letting my fingers rake through the dense forest till they reached the top of her labia. I knew where her clitoris was, and how sensitive to my sudden touch it would likely to be, so I didn't touch it for the moment. Instead, I used my fingers to work along the rim of her labial lips and feel the drooling wetness all around.

"Ahhhhh! Ngggggggg! Aiiieee!" her voice was loud and again penetrated through the ambient sounds of rain and thunder in the not too distant sky. The music had long stopped playing and neither of us had noticed that. As I traced around the lips, running my fingertip along the 10 or 12 centimetres length of the bulbous fleshy outer lips, covered with the inner periphery of pussy hair, her thighs clamped tightly over my hand. Her left hand rose to my head and clutched painfully at my hair, pulling me down to her bosom. She lifted her arse off the bed and pushed her pelvis against my hand, uttering sounds and words in Hindi that I did not understand.

I felt the silken wetness and the heat emanating from inside her as my fingers went around the surface of her inner lips. The mass of pubic hair was sodden against my palm, the texture thick and mossy like a forest undergrowth. My lips continued to flit from one nipple to the other, the fleshy pillows of her breasts cushioning my face. As my fingers played at the entrance to her vagina, they skirted over and across her clitoral hood and the minuscule but hard protrusion of the clitoris itself. Her body jerked, hips writhed, every time I touched it. And then suddenly, she took her fingers out of my hair and I felt her hand grip my wrist as her thighs clamped inwards. For a moment I thought that perhaps she wanted me to remove my hand but soon realised that she was in fact pressing it hard against herself, spreading her thighs apart again.