22-12-2018, 08:55 PM
"Oh, just look at those mangoes!" She exclaimed, looking up. A profusion of plump raw green mangoes could indeed be seen growing in the upper branches of the trees.
"I would love to taste them. Can I have some?" She begged.
"Of course." I said gallantly. A few well aimed stones brought down half a dozen fruit. The sharp smell of resinous sap oozing from the stems of the mangoes tickled our noses. Swati squealed in delight and gathered the fruit in her pallu.
"Wow! What perfect aim!" She gushed admiringly. I blushed & squirmed in pleasure.
"Well… oh thanks! Let me get us some salt." I stuttered.
"OK, come back soon. In the meantime, let me sit down for a while. The sun is getting to me." She said, indicating a little shelter at the edge of the field. I almost ran to my house and then hurried back, clutching some salt & chilly powder in my fist. In my hurry, I forgot to bring a knife.
There was a little rough shack off to one side, on the border of our field. It was used mainly by cattle herders to store odds and ends and as a rain shelter. It was small - around 8ft long and 6ft wide. There was a rough brick wall at the rear while the remaining three walls were made of woven bamboo mats tied to wooden posts. The corrugated tin roof was supported on posts and joists made of jungle wood. It was about 7 ft high at the rear and sloped down to 6 ft on the front. There was a long waist high wooden worktable placed against the rear wall. A little above the top of the table, the wall had a small rectangular window that had wooden bars running vertically. There was a small door, made of bamboo frame and woven bamboo mats in the front wall. The door could be held shut by a hasp made from a length of coir rope that could be secured to a stout nail driven into a wooden post. The floor was nothing more than compacted earth, about six inches higher than the surrounding ground, just enough to keep rain water from trickling in. Running along the rear wall on the outside was a trough of water for the cattle to drink from.
I had to stoop to go in through the low door. Swati was sitting on the wooden table & fanning herself. The mangoes were lying on the table. The shack was redolent with the mixed scents of stale smoke, dried cow dung patties (these are used as a fuel) and the tangy fresh smell of raw mangoes. Above all of these, my sensitive nose picked up the heady feminine scent emanating from Swati's young body.
"Let's eat mangoes!" Swati trilled. Since I had forgotten to bring a knife, I peeled the thick green skin off of a mango with my teeth, wiped it on my kurta and offered it to her. We were soon enjoying the sharp, sour, tangy raw mangoes, dipping them into the salt and red chilly powder, accompanied by loud appreciative smacks and sharp intakes of breath to cool our tongues. Swati wiped my palm with a piece of raw mango and savored the last morsel. She then leaned forward and licked up the remaining bit of salt & chilly powder off of my palm. That was an incredibly sensuous thing to do. A bolt of electricity shot through my body and I started trembling.
"Oh look, there is some mango sap on your cheek!" She said, looking up. I touched my cheek and felt something sticky on my beard. Well, although I was nineteen, my beard was actually little more than a soft fuzzy down that needed to be clipped once a month or so.
"Wait, let me clean it up. You will get a nasty rash if it rubs on your skin." She stopped me just as I was about to wipe it off myself. She then proceeded to carefully mop it with her pallu, her face just inches from mine. There was a magical moment of silence as I stood still and listened to her soft breathing.
"I would love to taste them. Can I have some?" She begged.
"Of course." I said gallantly. A few well aimed stones brought down half a dozen fruit. The sharp smell of resinous sap oozing from the stems of the mangoes tickled our noses. Swati squealed in delight and gathered the fruit in her pallu.
"Wow! What perfect aim!" She gushed admiringly. I blushed & squirmed in pleasure.
"Well… oh thanks! Let me get us some salt." I stuttered.
"OK, come back soon. In the meantime, let me sit down for a while. The sun is getting to me." She said, indicating a little shelter at the edge of the field. I almost ran to my house and then hurried back, clutching some salt & chilly powder in my fist. In my hurry, I forgot to bring a knife.
There was a little rough shack off to one side, on the border of our field. It was used mainly by cattle herders to store odds and ends and as a rain shelter. It was small - around 8ft long and 6ft wide. There was a rough brick wall at the rear while the remaining three walls were made of woven bamboo mats tied to wooden posts. The corrugated tin roof was supported on posts and joists made of jungle wood. It was about 7 ft high at the rear and sloped down to 6 ft on the front. There was a long waist high wooden worktable placed against the rear wall. A little above the top of the table, the wall had a small rectangular window that had wooden bars running vertically. There was a small door, made of bamboo frame and woven bamboo mats in the front wall. The door could be held shut by a hasp made from a length of coir rope that could be secured to a stout nail driven into a wooden post. The floor was nothing more than compacted earth, about six inches higher than the surrounding ground, just enough to keep rain water from trickling in. Running along the rear wall on the outside was a trough of water for the cattle to drink from.
I had to stoop to go in through the low door. Swati was sitting on the wooden table & fanning herself. The mangoes were lying on the table. The shack was redolent with the mixed scents of stale smoke, dried cow dung patties (these are used as a fuel) and the tangy fresh smell of raw mangoes. Above all of these, my sensitive nose picked up the heady feminine scent emanating from Swati's young body.
"Let's eat mangoes!" Swati trilled. Since I had forgotten to bring a knife, I peeled the thick green skin off of a mango with my teeth, wiped it on my kurta and offered it to her. We were soon enjoying the sharp, sour, tangy raw mangoes, dipping them into the salt and red chilly powder, accompanied by loud appreciative smacks and sharp intakes of breath to cool our tongues. Swati wiped my palm with a piece of raw mango and savored the last morsel. She then leaned forward and licked up the remaining bit of salt & chilly powder off of my palm. That was an incredibly sensuous thing to do. A bolt of electricity shot through my body and I started trembling.
"Oh look, there is some mango sap on your cheek!" She said, looking up. I touched my cheek and felt something sticky on my beard. Well, although I was nineteen, my beard was actually little more than a soft fuzzy down that needed to be clipped once a month or so.
"Wait, let me clean it up. You will get a nasty rash if it rubs on your skin." She stopped me just as I was about to wipe it off myself. She then proceeded to carefully mop it with her pallu, her face just inches from mine. There was a magical moment of silence as I stood still and listened to her soft breathing.
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