23-03-2019, 01:08 PM
I finished 12th grade in the same year my sister finished college. My parents decided to take us on a vacation to Goa. We rented a small beach cabin on South Goa and spent the days lounging on the beach, reading, trying different kinds of seafood, and playing some games.
One night, after my parents had fallen asleep, my sister and I went for a walk on the beach. We didn't want to stray too far that late at night, so we kept doing the rounds of the beach close to our cabin, as we engaged in the usual sisterly talk about boys, clothes, books, and life. My sister was planning on taking the GRE and applying to American grad schools, something my parents were extremely supportive of. She was telling me about her latest break-up, when we noticed a man walking a few feet behind us.
"Hi, sorry if I scared you." the man said in a British accent and approached us.
He was old, maybe in his late 50s. But looked very lean and fit. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and knee-length shorts and had what looked like an expensive SLR camera around his neck. he did not look scary or intimidating at all, so my sister and I stopped to talk to him.
"Hello. My name is Nigel." he said extending his hand towards us. My sister shook it.
"Hi." I said.
"I am sorry, but I couldn't help but notice you as you were walking on the beach." he said, looking at me. "And this may seem abrupt, but have you considered a career in modelling?"
"Excuse me?" my sister jumped in.
"I am a fashion photographer based in London here to scout talent for a modeling assignment. Would you be interested?"
"Shipra?" my sister smiled and looked at me questioningly.
"Ummm.. I don't think I am interested." I said. This wasn't the first time someone had suggested modeling as a career option. When you are a pretty young lady standing at 5 ft 10 in Bombay, you keep getting approached with such offers. But I had no interest in pursuing a career that consisted of starving yourself and strutting around on a ramp.
"Why not? There's good money in it." Nigel said, checking me out from head to toe. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
"We don't need money." my sister barged in. "Thanks but bye."
We walked away giggling. My sister teased me about it for a while and we turned around and continued walking towards the cabin. We were both feeling a little peckish so we decided to stop at a beach shack for some food. I noticed that Nigel was sitting a few tables away drinking beer. He smiled at us when we walked in and we smiled back. The food arrived, we ate and then my sister said she needed to use the bathroom.
As soon as she left, Nigel got up and approached me. I smiled, and he took it as an invitation to sit down, which he did, next to me.
"You really have a gorgeous face." he said leaning close to me.
"Thank you." I said and blushed.
"Amazing tits too."
"Excuse me?!"
I shot him a dirty look but he was unfazed by it. He was very obviously ogling my breasts which were pushing against the t-shirt. At that time, I measured 34D. I expected him to look away, but he didn't. He continued to eye me with a hungry expression on his face. A few seconds later, he said.
"And these legs." and he put his hand on my thigh.
I felt a bolt of electricity surge through my body at his touch. And I felt confused. No other man's touch had ever produced this kind of a reaction from me. I sat there dumbstruck as he gently rubbed my thigh.
"You're a gorgeous little thing that could set the ramp on fire. All these Indian super-models have nothing on you." Nigel said in a husky voice.
That's when we both noticed my sister walking out of the bathroom. He took his hand off my leg and said,
"If you want to discuss this further without big sister snooping around, I am staying at the Palm Resort. Come by tomorrow. Just ask for Nigel at the reception."
I sat there stunned at the pass that had been made at me. My sister sat down and asked what the old Brit wanted. Nothing, I said. He was just saying hi. We got back to the cabin. And I had trouble sleeping. I kept replaying in my mind the moments when he was staring at my breasts and when he had rubbed my thigh. I was taken in by his confidence, something that was lacking in boys my age.
One night, after my parents had fallen asleep, my sister and I went for a walk on the beach. We didn't want to stray too far that late at night, so we kept doing the rounds of the beach close to our cabin, as we engaged in the usual sisterly talk about boys, clothes, books, and life. My sister was planning on taking the GRE and applying to American grad schools, something my parents were extremely supportive of. She was telling me about her latest break-up, when we noticed a man walking a few feet behind us.
"Hi, sorry if I scared you." the man said in a British accent and approached us.
He was old, maybe in his late 50s. But looked very lean and fit. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and knee-length shorts and had what looked like an expensive SLR camera around his neck. he did not look scary or intimidating at all, so my sister and I stopped to talk to him.
"Hello. My name is Nigel." he said extending his hand towards us. My sister shook it.
"Hi." I said.
"I am sorry, but I couldn't help but notice you as you were walking on the beach." he said, looking at me. "And this may seem abrupt, but have you considered a career in modelling?"
"Excuse me?" my sister jumped in.
"I am a fashion photographer based in London here to scout talent for a modeling assignment. Would you be interested?"
"Shipra?" my sister smiled and looked at me questioningly.
"Ummm.. I don't think I am interested." I said. This wasn't the first time someone had suggested modeling as a career option. When you are a pretty young lady standing at 5 ft 10 in Bombay, you keep getting approached with such offers. But I had no interest in pursuing a career that consisted of starving yourself and strutting around on a ramp.
"Why not? There's good money in it." Nigel said, checking me out from head to toe. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
"We don't need money." my sister barged in. "Thanks but bye."
We walked away giggling. My sister teased me about it for a while and we turned around and continued walking towards the cabin. We were both feeling a little peckish so we decided to stop at a beach shack for some food. I noticed that Nigel was sitting a few tables away drinking beer. He smiled at us when we walked in and we smiled back. The food arrived, we ate and then my sister said she needed to use the bathroom.
As soon as she left, Nigel got up and approached me. I smiled, and he took it as an invitation to sit down, which he did, next to me.
"You really have a gorgeous face." he said leaning close to me.
"Thank you." I said and blushed.
"Amazing tits too."
"Excuse me?!"
I shot him a dirty look but he was unfazed by it. He was very obviously ogling my breasts which were pushing against the t-shirt. At that time, I measured 34D. I expected him to look away, but he didn't. He continued to eye me with a hungry expression on his face. A few seconds later, he said.
"And these legs." and he put his hand on my thigh.
I felt a bolt of electricity surge through my body at his touch. And I felt confused. No other man's touch had ever produced this kind of a reaction from me. I sat there dumbstruck as he gently rubbed my thigh.
"You're a gorgeous little thing that could set the ramp on fire. All these Indian super-models have nothing on you." Nigel said in a husky voice.
That's when we both noticed my sister walking out of the bathroom. He took his hand off my leg and said,
"If you want to discuss this further without big sister snooping around, I am staying at the Palm Resort. Come by tomorrow. Just ask for Nigel at the reception."
I sat there stunned at the pass that had been made at me. My sister sat down and asked what the old Brit wanted. Nothing, I said. He was just saying hi. We got back to the cabin. And I had trouble sleeping. I kept replaying in my mind the moments when he was staring at my breasts and when he had rubbed my thigh. I was taken in by his confidence, something that was lacking in boys my age.
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