The Mystery of the Wrong Door

It was nice, very nice, but how far should she let this sudden intimacy progress? Kirti broke the kiss but not the embrace, and held her head against Jibon's chest as she felt the tentative movement of his hand upon her bottom cheek as it felt the skin beneath her salwaar-kameez. She closed her eyes.

The faintest of sounds came to her ears but she did not open her eyes wide, rather she looked through her lashes and was just in time to see the door she had come through with Jibon, closing and two young men slipping, as surreptitiously as they could, behind some old cabinets. It was just the two. Should she alert Jibon, should she call out to them, tell them to 'go away,' or even herself rush from the room?

The trouble, for Kirti, and she already knew it - it featured in her thoughts in bed - was she liked the idea of being watched. It was terrible really, quite wrong, but often she thought of being caught half naked or even naked. Perhaps a man coming into her bathroom by mistake and seeing her there with soap in hand, or more exotically her bathing down by a river and being watched by a hidden group of young men. She knew, if she thought of being with a young man, engaged in sexual intercourse, then often she would imagine on the periphery a watcher, perhaps through an open window or doorway.

Had she not imagined only two nights before, finding herself in the wrong changing room, yet going through with it, actually going through all the actions of changing for swimming watched not just by one boy but a whole team? She had been so wet in bed at the thought. Imagining taking off her salwaar-kameez as they had watched in virtual silence. Tall, dark, silent young men. A 'strip tease' indeed, but not done to music or with any expansive gestures or choreographed movements (though as a dancer herself she was sure she could develop a routine, had even thought of doing so once, practising in front of the mirror), rather simply done so, slowly and carefully. She had felt the erotic thrill in her mind of standing there in bare feet on the tiled floor with so many young male eyes taking in her naked skin, clad in just brassiere and panties. The embarrassment, and yet thrill, of reaching and unclasping her brassiere and letting it fall right to the floor, even stretching down to retrieve it, letting the material of her panties go taut over her buttocks. A tease to the men - so enjoyable despite the embarrassment of her increasing nakedness

Of course there was risk, but not in her fantasy. The men restraining themselves and not falling upon her in lust. Kirti had no desire for that! Her fingers might have been deep inside her as she imagined the scene, but there was no touching of her body in her fantasy; not even when she rolled her panties slowly down her thighs; nor when her thoughts developed into her imagining joining the young men in a communal shower. The water cascading down off naked male bodies and her own. Their rapt attention as she (slowly) soaped herself all over. And, of course, there was her delight in seeing just how very visually the young men indicated their appreciation of her and her actions. A very visible 'thumbs up' from them all. Not one staying 'soft.'

Kirti closed her eyes and brought her face up to Jibon's to be kissed again. She was happy for the other young men over by the door to watch if they wished. It gave her a thrill.

Anish's hunch had proved more than well founded. For a moment he stared, his eyes glued to where Jibon's hand was actually upon Kirti's buttock, and then he gestured back to Shakti to 'be quiet.' Almost on tiptoe they came through the door, closed it and slid behind some old cabinets. The contents of the room were of no interest to him. It seemed to be a storeroom for junk. What interested him was Kirti.

Shakti looked at Anish, his eyes wide. Again, Anish motioned for silence and tentatively they peered through a gap between two cabinets. The gap could not have been more than 100 millimetres wide. Shakti's head above Anish as they peered. It was unlikely they could be seen. Kirti's eyes had been closed when they came through the door and the two young men were now in shadow behind the cabinets. Anish bit his lip. He had always thought Jibon was lucky with girls. He could see now just how lucky. He watched as the girl lifted her head up and he saw them kiss. How Anish would have loved to be Jibon; he could just about imagine what it was like to kiss a girl, had he not tried with the back of his hand, pretending the gap between his fingers were a girl's lips? Had he not pushed his tongue through his fingers? He swallowed. He was sure he had seen a movement to Jibon's cheek, was that Kirti's tongue pushing inside? His eyes dropped to Jibon's hand on the girl's bottom. Jibon was squeezing, feeling the soft flesh of her bottom within her clothing. He could see that and was so jealous.

Within Anish's trousers he felt himself swelling in his excitement. Anish's gaze flicked to Jibon's other hand; it must be right over the strap of Kirti's brassiere. He must be feeling the clasp. What a thing to be doing.

Anish, and no doubt Shakti too, loved the pretty way the girls dressed. So much better, so much more attractive than his own long sleeved white shirt, grey trousers and black shoes. Kirti had been looking particularly good that day, her long hair in its ponytail hanging over her orange salwaar-kameez. Clearly a single outfit, and a pretty one at that. He could see Jibon's hand feeling the long zip that ran from the neck right down to the hem, the hand pushing the ponytail to one side. He wondered how Kirti did the zip up with it behind her when dressing in the morning. He would love to watch that - the dressing - he would love to help!

He watched as Jibon's left hand ascended, pushing the lovely bunched hair aside and over her shoulder, his fingers touching the toggle to the zip at Kirti's neck. Surely he was not going to try and pull the zip down? Surely not! But he was. Yet seemed to be having difficulty with just the one hand. The movement upwards of Jibon's other hand confirmed both difficulty and intention. His own hand went up to Shakti's shoulder, a fellow feeling and a non-verbal communication of his own excitement and anticipation. It was trembling.

But a disappointment. Kirti's hand came over Jibon's, a very clear indication that he was to STOP. Yet, only a little while later his hands returned and this time the zip began to move, slowly Anish saw the bare flesh beneath appear and, for the first time, Anish saw a girl's bra strap, not in a shop and not hinted at through clothing but there 'in the flesh,' or, rather, right on the skin. Jibon's fingers were upon it, even curling under it, slipping between brassiere strap and skin. Anish could only think how soft and warm that must be.

And then, Anish simply could not believe it, he saw that Jibon was seeking to undo the clasp. Anish had no idea how that was done and nor, it seemed, did Jibon. That seemed perhaps strange, as Anish watched the fumbling, surely Jibon must have undone bra straps before.

Terribly Jibon seemed to give up on the attempt to undo the strap, for his hands then returned to the zip and were lowering it further, right to Kirti's waist. Apart from the horizontal strap of the bra, Anish could see the whole of Kirti's back from neck to kameez, could see the delightful corrugations of her backbone, could see Jibon's fingers moving to run up and down them. Such soft skin, such a pretty shade of brown, Anish could only imagine what it felt like feeling those lovely bumps, hard bone under soft skin. He had to imagine that: it was Jibon feeling her backbone. All the while Kirti and Jibon were kissing.

Anish had a tremendous urge to touch himself, not just through his trousers but delve within. Had he been alone he might well have unzipped himself, a much shorter zip than on Kirti's kameez, and brought his erection out into the open behind the cabinets. Perhaps Shakti felt the same way - very likely he did - but there was no situation where he could imagine exposing himself like that with Shakti, short perhaps of Kirti or some other girl doing the extraction. The idea of Shakti and him being out there in the room with Kirti, not Jibon, and she tugging at their zips... The idea so pleasing. It was a thought for later, when alone in bed. Even a slight movement gave him pleasure, just a slight movement of his hips, rubbing his pants against his hard penis. But he did not wish to do that too much. Shakti was close against him. He did not want to betray what he was doing.

Above him a slight gasp from Shakti and a renewed trembling. But Anish was barely conscious of that. In front of him, mere metres away, Jibon was pulling down on the kameez, exposing Kirti's shoulders, slipping fingers through the revealed thin straps across her shoulders and tugging. As one, the kameez and brassiere came down Kirti's body. All at once before Anish was a half-naked girl. Clasped to Jibon, Anish could only see the side of one breast but that was so much more than he had ever seen. So much more.

In Anish's mind, he was almost screaming for Jibon to get out of the way; to let him see Kirti in all her beauty. And, as if Jibon heard him, the young man began to move, his head slowly descending down Kirti's body. Anish watched as he nuzzled her neck and then brought his head a little away from her body so he could see her breasts. He could see, but with Kirti's back to him, Anish could not. The frustration of it! Seeing Jibon's delighted face but not having the delight himself.

But then it was Kirti who turned, a half turn almost as if she was deliberately exposing herself to Shakti and himself; as if she wanted them to see her breasts. Yet Behru knew they had neither been seen nor could be seen, hidden in the darkness behind the cabinets. A ridiculous idea, in any case. Kirti would hardly wish to expose herself to him, would she? Behru did not move to hide himself behind the cabinets but kept looking through the gap. It was a sight he had only imagined before, not seen.

Kirti's kameez and brassiere were around her waist, her whole upper body exposed but just so different from what Behru saw of himself in the mirror. He had nipples, he had arms, indeed he had a navel but... Certainly Kirti did not have hair to her chest, but that was not the only difference! Just so wonderful to see, such soft looking mounds, so delightfully curved, so rounded, so... And nipples, such dark roundels with raised centres atop Kirti's breasts.

It was no surprise to see Jibon's head move towards Kirti, no surprise to find it obscuring much of Behru's sight of Kirti's breasts, no surprise to realise Jibon's mouth had gone to Kirti's nipple. Behru would have done just the same. Annoying of course for it not to be him, but it did not lessen his excitement. An excitement which, after a time, was rewarded when Jibon's head dropped further.

What was Jibon doing now? Behru stared. He watched Jibon's right hand come up and hold - or rather grope and fondle Kirti's left breast as his left hand went to manipulate her right buttock. It seemed Jibon was kissing her naked stomach, perhaps even tonguing her navel. What a thing to be doing!

This was all so much further than anything he had seen before. Surely they wouldn't go further? Surely Shakti and he were not about to witness sexual intercourse, surely Jibon was not about to tug Kirti's salwaar down - and her panties. What colour would they be? Could he contain himself if such a thing happened? Within his constricted trousers his swollen, straining erection really felt fit to not so much burst as 'explode,' certainly at its end! The sight before him of Jibon seemingly tonguing Kirti's navel, pawing at one breast and him being able to see the other, so lovely and so very much there before him, was almost too much. Behru stared and stared.

Above him a strange, almost strangled sound, and he felt Shakti really shake. Surely he was not... surely his friend had not really just cum at the sight? Indeed, was cumming at the sight. It could be, it well could be; such a spontaneous happening had only happened to Behru, not infrequently actually, when in bed and asleep. He had never simply cum without manual help, but he felt himself not far off. Such was the excitement of his voyeuring and what he was seeing.

In front of him, Behru saw Kirti's eyes open wide, such a lovely shade of brown, but he was confident she could not see them in their hiding place, even if she appeared to be staring right at him. Her hand came up, her small delicate right hand, forming a fist and she stuffed that into her mouth. A surprising gesture. Behru did not know why she had done that.

Sudden further delight as Behru saw Jibon's hands move, his fingers curling and taking hold at the sides of the top of Kirti's salwaar. It was going to happen! It was going to happen! He could imagine it, the slow coming down of the salwaar, the gradual reveal of more and more of Kirti. The thought of it, of seeing not just Kirti's naked bottom but her private hair, her dark lush triangle: but it was not to be.

Kirti's hands came over Jibon's and Behru heard her say "not yet."

'Not yet,' but when? Such a disappointment to Behru - and no doubt Jibon. What could have been. What could have been! How strange it would have been seeing Jibon too undress, unless he simply unzipped. Might Kirti have done that? The thought of Kirti undressing him certainly pleased Behru: even more if it had been him rather than Jibon! The thought of her undoing his, Behru's belt, then his button and fly and him springing out to surprise her. Behru was not ungenerously provided for in that department: perhaps he might outrank Jibon in that respect. He liked that idea! He had no idea about Shakti, though he rather suspected at that moment his friend was no longer in the contest.

It seemed, though, things were over. Kirti was rearranging her clothing and, whilst Jibon was still seeking to kiss her, it was obvious things would not progress further.

Jibon was engaged at kissing and Kirti was looking the other way. "Let's go," whispered Behru and tugged at Shakti. The two friends turned and hurriedly made for the door, opening and closing it without looking back. They looked at each other, now safe in the study room. Shakti shook his head, "I never thought..."

Behru sat down, "That was... quite something. The wrong door... or the right door? I think I need to sit here to recover." What he did not say, and he did not know if Shakti had noticed, was he could not possibly walk back into the common room with his trousers outlining his erection like that. He had looked, and Shakti was not bulging in the same full way as he was. He could not imagine Shakti had not been excited in the same way. It rather confirmed his suspicion. Shakti must be feeling very sticky and wet.

Kirti stood there in the room behind the common room amidst the broken furniture, so very conscious of Jibon's hand on her bottom and the other to her back; conscious too of the other young men watching. Nice to be kissed and nice to kiss back in return. Amusing to feel Jibon's left hand ascend right to the top of her kameez and feel him playing with the zip's toggle at her neck; even more so when she realised he could not pull it down single handed. Should she perhaps help him? The thought of undressing before him, seeing his eyes staring, perhaps even see Jibon shake with excitement, excited her the more. And to know those two boys were watching as well. She could still just about discern them through the gap in the cabinets, their dark eyes watching. Undressing in front of three young men! Such a thought.

Jibon's other hand rising put paid to that idea. Instead Kirti thought she should show some reluctance, whilst knowing all the time she would let Jibon pull the zip down. She raised her own hand whilst at the same time rotating her body a little. It meant she could no longer see where the other two men were hiding but it meant they would see her back when Jibon pulled down the zip, and, as soon as she moved her hand away, of course, Jibon was tugging two handed at the zip, bringing it downwards and opening the kameez. Amusing then to feel him fumbling with her bra strap - ineptly. Perhaps it was his urgency that caused him to fail, an amusing desperation to get at her breasts, certainly the urgency communicated itself into the rather rapid movements of his tongue in her mouth.

She was not surprised to feel the attack on her clasp abandoned and then feeling the zip being further lowered. It was a delight to feel Jibon's fingers on her back, stroking and then playing with the bumps of her backbone. She wondered for a moment whether his fingers touching her lower backbone might delve downwards under salwaar and panties but that seemed not his intention. Perhaps in his evident inexperience the feel of a girl's naked backbone was more than enough. For Kirti it was an almost surprisingly good feeling.

But then came the real attack - if she could call it that. All at once male hands to her shoulders seeking to tug the kameez downwards. And she let him. She felt her shoulders exposed, fingers slipping under the shoulder straps of her bra and then Jibon tugging them down in one. He clasped her to him, despite her clothing now around her waist, not looking but rather, it seemed, feeling her chest naked against his shirt. Kirti knew he would be feeling her nipples, she certainly could feel them hard and swollen against his shirt - a delicious feeling, sending shivers through her. He nuzzled her neck.

As she knew Jibon would, he stepped back from her to look at her half nakedness and particularly to see her breasts. She smiled up at him, seeing his eyes wide at what he was examining, feeling herself so aroused by it. But then turning herself, not so much to give Jibon a side view or to give him the pleasure of seeing her breasts move and wobble, but to expose herself to the watching boys and show them her breasts unobscured by clothing or man. Through her eye lashes she could see them. She took pleasure in imagining how excited they must be. An excitement so caused by her.

Unsurprisingly Jibon moved in upon her breasts, pushing his face into her and then seeking a nipple with his mouth. Such a tingling wonderful feeling to feel his lips close, his tongue licking at the caught nipple. A degree of suction and then, was that teeth half biting? Kirti hoped he would swirl his tongue around. She liked that, liked to do it to herself what was more. She was no stranger to sucking nipples - her own, of course.

But no, Jibon's face was slipping down her body, his tongue dragging down and under her breast. Where was he going? She felt his hand reach and hold, and fondle, her left breast and his left hand reach around, following the side of her hip, and clasp and fondle, rather firmly, her right buttock.

Kirti who had been watching the boys behind the cabinet through her eyelashes now fully closed her eyes and gave herself up to what she was feeling. She could feel, and was sure Jibon could too, her body shivering with pleasure. It came to Kirti she was on the edge of an orgasm. There had not been so much as a touch to between her legs, Jibon had not tried to feel her soft inner thigh through her salwar. Her breasts were certainly sensitive but that was not enough, surely, to bring her so close. It was the thought of the other boys watching. That was what was really doing it. The thought of them seeing her half naked and being sexually played with by Jibon.

Kirti raised her right hand, she was almost tempted to bunch them, form them into a penile shape, not for Jibon to see, he was too busy licking her stomach, but for the watchers to see, for them to see her pushing her fingers into her open mouth as if it was a boy's knob and erection. What an incredibly naughty thing to do! And she almost did it, and perhaps would have done, had Jibon not stuck his tongue rather forcibly into her navel. Of course it was a sexual act, of course Jibon was imagining it not as his tongue but his penis stabbing into her vagina. The symbolism and association so clear. Almost Kirti cried out. Not at all a good thing with just a wall separating her from the common room. One thing to have two young men watching her being sexually played with and observing her breasts: quite another to have half the common room rushing in to see what the noise was about.