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03-07-2025, 09:48 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2025, 02:51 PM by Haran000. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Tuition
Oh, I just have to write stories like this, I don't even need to use my brain. I'll just keep writing whatever comes to mind. My lust for Asha and Nisha is filthy, and you might think, "Is this Haran fellow really so terrible?" But I don't care, if I feel like writing, I'll just keep writing.
It's an imaginary world, our house on one street, and their house next to ours.
Asha and Nisha are sisters. They don't have anyone else. They grew up somewhere or other since childhood, but why should we care? Asha got married sixteen months ago. She's a celestial beauty. Wait, celestial beauty? No, in this universe, there's no one more beautiful than her. Hold on, universe? Ah! In the multiverse, no one can even come close to her toenail. Does that sound like an exaggeration? It's my story, my imaginary world, my Asha, my wish. If you want to read, read it. If not, there are plenty of other stories, go read those.
Asha's younger sister's name is Nisha. Nisha... Nisha... Oh, looking at her gives me a 'nisha' (intoxication). She's fair, like a freshly made 'kalakanda' sweet. After Asha got married, Nisha also lives in Asha's house.
Asha's husband made her a mother in the first year of their marriage. All he did was make her a mother, there was no proper affection or romance. He doesn't spend enough time with her. Asha takes care of the baby. Asha's husband goes to the office at nine in the morning and returns at seven in the evening. In stories like this, that's enough for us. If needed, we can always make him go out of town occasionally. Both sisters spend his earnings lavishly.
You've understood, right? I'm the hero of this story. After my intermediate studies, I'm preparing for an entrance exam, an entrance exam for a degree. What's the point of education, comparing one person to another, hurting feelings, turning education into a business just for these buffaloes to fill their pockets in the name of coaching? Is anyone, after studying so much, creating anything here? They're all going abroad. Oh, I apologize, I'm in a different world, and you're in a different world, right? Putting that aside, where were we? We're right here, and you're reading this story.
So, for my exam, I asked Nisha, who works as a Math lecturer in my college and lives next door, to tutor me. She agreed. I have to go there starting tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I'll go to their house, act innocent, study, but also lust on them.
Asha - 33 age
Nisha - 25 age
Me - 18
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04-07-2025, 12:09 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2025, 12:11 AM by magneticpersonality. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Stories with this theme interest me a lot.
Will wait for the update.
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04-07-2025, 03:15 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-07-2025, 10:26 AM by Haran000. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
The morning light crept in, gently rousing me from sleep. My brother was already awake, a familiar presence beside me. I reached under the blanket, my fingers tracing the contours of his head, a gesture that always brought a quiet comfort. With a sigh, I finally rose, straightened my bed, and then, with practiced stealth, I crept upstairs, making sure to stay out of my mother's line of sight. My secret mission: a glimpse of Asha, our neighbor. Every morning, she hung her family's laundry in the backyard, and I knew that with just one innocent bend, I might catch a glimpse of her cleavage – an event that, without fail, would spark a fight with my younger brother.
I brushed my teeth, gazing at the sky like some profound nature enthusiast, though my true focus lay elsewhere. Soon, Asha emerged, a bucket laden with wet clothes swinging at her side. She began hanging them, her movements deliberate, her gaze occasionally drifting in my direction. I watched from the corner of my eye, a silent sentinel, awaiting that tell-tale bend. First, a saree, then a langa, unfurled and clipped to the line. Then, with a practiced grace, she unhooked her white 34DD bra, placing it on the line with a gentle snap of the clip. How did I know the size? A small, almost embarrassing detail: they often discarded the bra boxes after purchase, and I, in my strange obsession, had once retrieved one, the label a revelation.
The bucket was nearing empty. She bent to retrieve the last few items at the bottom.
And there it was. The sight I’d anticipated: her breasts, folding inward, creating a four-inch valley between them. Four inches on the outside—what, then, was the full measure? My little brother, on his own, paid silent homage to Asha's allure, standing at attention like a dutiful soldier. That was the trigger. I bolted downstairs, making a beeline for the common bathroom outside our house. Slipping inside, I quickly shed my shorts, and engaged in my early morning "pumping workout."
If this was the effect of a casual glimpse, what awaited me at Nisha teacher’s tuition?
The wall clock chimed ten. Tuition, I knew, was where I should be, but here I sat, mesmerized by the flickering images on the television screen. It was well past ten-thirty when Nisha's voice cut through the air, her call from outside the gate, "Sister-in-law, isn't Shiva there?"
A wave of exhilarating anticipation washed over me at the sound of her voice.
"Yes, he's here," my mother responded. "Where did he go? I told him to study, but he's just sitting and watching TV."
"Tell him I asked him to come, sister-in-law," Nisha urged.
"Okay, Nisha," my mother replied.
Five minutes later, my mother appeared, relaying Nisha's summons. I grabbed my math notes and headed out. The gate was empty. As I approached the door, Nisha's voice drifted from inside, "Come, Shiva."
"Good morning, Teacher," I greeted her, stepping into the cool interior.
She was engrossed with her phone, adjusting something on the screen. As she turned, she presented a striking figure: a white T-shirt clinging to her form, accentuating her breasts, making them bulge like taut cheeks, paired with a vibrant green midi skirt. Nisha, who usually favored sarees for college, dressed differently here. I settled into a chair, my gaze drawn to her chest. She came and sat beside me, her hand reaching for my right. It was the first time she’d touched me, and her skin felt incredibly soft. She shifted closer, our elbows brushing, and a pleasant warmth radiated from her body.
"Don't call me Teacher here," she murmured.
"Okay, Nisha Sister," I replied, a subtle manipulation, hoping to project an air of innocence.
"Don't call me Sis, just Nisha is fine."
"How can I?" I feigned surprise. "You're older than me."
"Shiva, didn't I say not to call me Sis? Just call me Nisha."
"Okay, Nisha," I conceded.
A faint smile touched her lips, and I mirrored it with a small, innocent grin of my own.
"You have to come at ten o'clock, go home for lunch, and then come back. I'll send you home in the evening. You have to study here all day."
"Okay, Teacher..."
"There you go, calling me Teacher again."
"Okay, Nisha."
As we spoke, Asha arrived, her child nestled in her arms. My eyes, like sunflowers tracking the sun, instinctively turned towards her. The beautiful woman was resplendent in a yellow cotton saree, its fabric dbanging gracefully, revealing the subtle curve of her left waist.
I offered a brief, silent smile. Until then, Asha had never spoken directly to me.
"Oh Shiva, what's this?" Asha exclaimed, a hint of surprise in her voice. "You've never come to our house before."
As she spoke, my gaze fixated on her strawberry-like lips, and my own lips trembled almost imperceptibly.
"For tuition, Asha Aunty," I explained.
Immediately, Asha's eyes reddened slightly. A silent smile played on my lips.
"Hey, why are you calling me Aunty?" she challenged.
"You're married, aren't you, Aunty?"
"Hey, do you call someone Aunty just because they're married?"
"Okay, I won't call you Aunty."
"Didn't I say not to call me Aunty?"
"What should I call you? You tell me."
"What do you call Nisha?"
"Nisha."
"Then call me Asha too."
With that, Asha went back inside.
"My sister is very proud of her beauty, Shiva," Nisha explained, a slight smile playing on her lips. "You called her Aunty, that's why she's speaking angrily. Don't mind her."
"Yes, Teacher, your sister is good-looking," I observed, "but your brother-in-law is not at all good-looking. Why did she marry him?"
"Well, we don't have parents," Nisha explained, a hint of sadness in her voice. "But we have an aunt. She forced my sister to marry him, blabbing 'marriage, marriage.'"
"Oh..."
"By the way, Teacher," I continued, a mischievous thought forming, "maybe your brother-in-law doesn't have a younger brother. If he did, maybe you would have married him..."
Nisha’s patience seemed to fray slightly. "You came here to study, so study. Why do you care?"
"Sorry, Teacher," I mumbled.
"Call me Nisha."
After that, I focused on my studies. Nisha taught me various concepts, though my gaze often drifted towards her, taking in her presence. The details of our academic session aren't crucial here. Later, I returned home for lunch, then made my way back to Nisha's place.
As I entered, Asha was in the midst of feeding her child. Seeing me step into the house, she quickly pulled the end of her saree over herself, a hasty attempt at concealment. A fleeting wish to see her breast crossed my mind, but I silently went and settled into the chair.
Then, a thought struck me: if I acted shy now, she might perceive it as an acknowledgment, that I understood such things and was deliberately averting my gaze.
So, I looked directly at Asha’s saree pallu, a calculated move. My intention was for her to see my direct gaze and wonder, "Why is he looking like this? Doesn't he know he shouldn't look like that?" At most, I hoped she’d conclude, "Oh, he's innocent."
I continued to look at her. She gave me a peculiar glance, then a small smile. She truly was beautiful. I returned an equally innocent smile.
"Where is Nisha Teacher, Asha?" I asked.
"Oh, she might be in the kitchen. She'll be here."
My eyes remained fixed on the slight movements of the saree's edge where the child nursed beneath the fabric.
"Why are you looking like that?" Asha asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
"Why are you hiding Nikhil's face, Asha?" I felt a faint tremor of doubt, wondering if my act of innocence was becoming too transparent.
"He's drinking milk."
"Oh... are you not showing his face so he doesn't get the evil eye?" I truly didn't know what else to say; the words simply tumbled out.
Asha looked at me in silent surprise.
"I mean," I quickly clarified, "my grandma says small children get the evil eye, right?"
"Yes... that's right."
Not wanting to overplay my hand, I glanced towards the kitchen, feigning a search for Nisha. Just then, Nisha appeared.
"Good afternoon, Nisha," I greeted her.
"Yeah, afternoon," she replied.
"Hey Shiva," Asha interjected, "it's been ten minutes since you came. Why didn't you say good afternoon to me?"
"Hehe," I chuckled, "because you're not my teacher."
"My sister is your teacher, isn't she?" Asha challenged playfully.
"Yes... she is."
"Your teacher's sister is also your teacher."
Nisha laughed. "What kind of logic is that, Akka?"
"What?" Asha retorted. "I'm older here, did he wish me?"
"Good afternoon, Asha," I conceded.
"Okay," she replied, satisfied.
It must have been two-thirty. I listened to Nisha, my gaze fixed on her face. Gradually, my eyes drifted to her lips. They were like rose petals, stirring a flurry of evocative thoughts within me. My eyelids drooped lazily, and my pupils descended, drawn to the swell of her breasts beneath the T-shirt. Uff...
"Are you listening, Shiva?" Nisha's voice cut through my thoughts.
A jolt of fear shot through me. Had she suspected something?
"Yes, I'm listening," I quickly responded.
"Okay, now we need to take the differentiation here..." she began to explain, her voice resuming its instructional tone.
Just then, Asha's phone rang. She answered it.
"Yes?"
"Yes, I ate."
Nisha glanced at me, then put a finger to her lips. "Shhh... you be quiet."
I nodded in acknowledgment.
"Yes, Nisha also ate. The baby just fell asleep," Asha continued her conversation.
As she talked on the phone, I kept writing, Nisha observing me from her side.
The phone call ended.
"Shiva, look here," Asha called out.
I looked up. "What, Asha?"
"You have to leave after six-thirty, okay?"
"Why?"
"My brother-in-law doesn't like other men coming when he's not home," Nisha interjected, her voice matter-of-fact.
"Why?"
"He gets angry."
"Why?"
"He just gets angry, don't ask why." Asha picked up Nikhil again and went into the bedroom.
"Why, Nisha?" I pressed.
"We are two women in the house, and I'm not even married yet, that's why."
"I don't understand."
"I'll tell you later, you study."
For some reason, my mom called Nisha.
"Oh, sister-in-law, I'm coming..." Nisha said, and went outside.
Nisha didn't return for almost fifteen minutes. I solved two problems in her absence. Then, I saw Asha go into the kitchen. A sudden thirst came over me. Nisha was outside, Asha was in the kitchen.
I considered going to my own house for water and then returning. As I stood up and stepped outside, Asha called out, "Where are you going, Shiva?"
"I'm going to drink some water."
"Don't we have water here? Come and drink."
I agreed and walked into the kitchen.
Asha had her back to me, pouring hot water into Nikhil’s baby food bowl. As I reached for a glass from the water filter beside her, I don't know if she momentarily forgot my presence, but she suddenly turned around. Her butt brushed against my leg, and I looked. In a startling flash, Asha’s face was directly in front of mine, and her strawberry upper lip touched my lower lip.
As my mouth opened in surprise, her lower, thick lip found its way between mine.
A tremor of panic ran through my body, and I pursed my lips instinctively. She quickly pulled her neck back.
For a moment, we both stared into each other's eyes, stunned, our breaths mingling between our lips. My vision blurred, and only Asha's lips remained in sharp focus.
Fear gripped me. As I opened my mouth to apologize, Asha lifted her face, capturing my upper lip. Her hand moved behind my head, pulling me closer, and then, with an astonishing intimacy, she began to suck and savor my upper lip. I remained innocent, frozen like a statue, my self-control unwavering.
Asha kept smooching my lips…
.
.
To be continued………….
Check out my other story here:
https://xossipy.com/thread-69378.html
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A shiver, both of pleasure and surprise, coursed through me as Asha's lips met mine. Every instinct screamed to deepen the kiss, to pull her closer and lose myself in her, but with an immense effort, I held back. My hands trembled, and the steel glass I held clattered to the floor, the sudden noise breaking our embrace.
My initial shock quickly gave way to an idea to act innocent. Feigning tears, I began to back away. "Ooho… you kissed me! I'm going to tell my mom!"
Asha's hand shot out, grabbing mine. "Why would you tell your mom?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
"You kissed me," I wailed, "Will I have children now? Ah... ah... Grown-ups are supposed to kiss after they get married!"
She burst into laughter, pulling me closer. "Haha... Hey, silly, it's not like that."
"No, I saw it in movies!" I insisted, my voice rising. "The hero and heroine kiss, and they have children. Now we'll have children too. You should kiss Uncle, not me. I'm going to tell my mom Asha kissed me!" I deliberately escalated my feigned sobs.
A flicker of worry crossed her face, clearly afraid I might expose our secret. She clapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh, Shiva, listen, it's nothing. I kissed you, but you didn't kiss me back, right? So we won't have children."
"Really?" I asked, a glimmer of hope in my theatrical distress.
"Yes, really, but don't tell anyone."
"Why?"
"I didn't mean to kiss you, right? If you tell anyone, they'll think I did it on purpose, and they'll think I'm bad."
"Okay, Asha, I won't tell anyone."
Just then, Nisha's voice cut through the air. "What happened, Sis? What was that sound?"
"Nothing," Asha called back, composed, "the glass fell." She then turned to me, her voice firm. "Go, sit down."
I returned to my spot, settling back into my studies. Asha, I mused, probably thought I was truly a naive child, believing everything I saw in movies. But why had she kissed me? Could she harbor feelings for me? The mere thought sent an inexplicable thrill through my heart.
Nisha approached, and I quickly snatched up a book, pretending to be engrossed in reading. She settled beside me.
"Shiva," Nisha began, "your mom said you know how to dance."
I chuckled, feigning modesty. "Haha... not really, I just did it in college."
"So you don't dance now?"
"I do, but why are we talking about dancing now?"
"If you know, you could teach me a little," she said, her voice soft. "You know I like it."
"Me teaching you?" I repeated, surprised.
"I don't know how to dance, Shiva. I didn't even dance at my sister's wedding. How about we practice dancing in my room this evening?"
The idea was certainly appealing, but my studies weighed on my mind. "No, Nisha, I need to study. My dad will scold me if I dance or play games instead of studying."
She placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer. Her left boob brushed against my right bicep, sending a jolt of nervousness through me. She took my chin in her hand, turning my face to meet her gaze. Our eyes locked.
"It's nothing, Shiva," she murmured, her voice a plea. "Just for a little while, okay? Please."
I was at a loss for words. Looking at her lips, and the memory of Asha's earlier kiss still fresh, I managed a soft "Mm," nodding my assent.
Nisha beamed. "Oh, thanks, Shiva!" she exclaimed, and then, to my surprise, kissed my right cheek.
Uff, I thought, I was just looking, but they're even kissing me! "Thanks, Haran, I thought you planned this so quickly," I mused inwardly.
I feigned shyness, wiping my cheek with my fingers.
I continued with my studies, tackling my math problems as the afternoon wore on. Soon, evening arrived.
Asha entered, carrying Nikhil. I took the baby from her, enjoying a playful moment. Nisha got up, bending forward to retrieve something. Her t-shirt wrinkled and shifted, revealing a sliver of her white waist. My gaze dropped, drawn to her bottom. Her buttocks were high, and her bending posture made them seem even more pronounced. Her middy clung tightly, outlining her panty beneath. The sight ignited a sudden erection in my pants. Immediately, I brought my book up to cover myself.
I'd forgotten Asha was right beside me. I couldn't tell if she'd noticed my reaction. To be safe, I pretended complete obliviousness, burying my face in the book and feigning deep concentration.
Before going to sleep, it was my habit to review the day's studies. Tonight, however, my attention was drawn to the house next door. I opened my window, standing on my bed to peer towards Nisha's room. Her window wasn't open, but perhaps the curtains weren't drawn, as her room appeared brightly lit. I watched for twenty minutes before I saw her shadow appear.
She raised her hands, moving them back and forth, as if tying her braid. Then, her hands went to her waist and moved upwards. Aha... just as I thought, she was taking off her t-shirt. As she lifted it, her hands moved above her waist. Oh, if the window had been open, I would have seen them, I thought. Then she lifted it higher, and perhaps her 32D breasts were exposed; crescent appeared in front of her hands. It swayed once.
Ah... watching this, my pants tightened further. I pulled them down and rubbed myself with my fingers. Nisha took off her t-shirt, tossed it aside, and moved to the right, likely to retrieve another dress.
I yearned to climb over the wall right then. For three minutes, I simply watched. She returned and sat down. It must have been her phone; she held it with both hands in front of her. Then the light went off. I slipped into bed and closed my eyes, a silent tremor still coursing through me.
The next day, I arrived at tuition at ten o'clock. As soon as I entered, Nisha greeted me.
"Good morning, Nisha," I said.
"Oh, good morning," she replied. "You wait, I'll take a bath and come."
"Okay."
With nothing else to do, I picked up a book and sat down. Just then, Asha entered, mixing baby food in a bowl. How exquisitely beautiful women appeared in a sari, especially when the pallu was tucked below the waist, revealing that slender expanse, the delicate fold below the curve of the waist, swaying gracefully with each step. And when the pallu dbangd over the left shoulder, a gentle breeze could lift it, momentarily revealing the enticing curves between the shoulder and waist.
As Asha placed the bowl on the table and bent forward, her sari molded to her jackfruit-like buttocks, accentuating their form. I gazed at her with desire, saliva gathering in my mouth. Just as it threatened to escape, I quickly licked it up and swallowed.
Asha placed the baby food bowl on the table and came to sit on my right, directly beside me.
"How many marks did you get in Intermediate, Shiva?" she asked.
"Nine hundred eighty-seven," I replied.
"Oh my, so you're a topper then."
"Yes, I'm the second topper in my class. Someone else got two marks more than me."
Asha placed her hand on me, moving closer, her shoulder leaning against mine. The room suddenly felt warmer, almost stifling.
"It's fine, you got good marks," she murmured. "Study well for these exams too."
Looking down, I mumbled, "Mm, I will."
She turned her shoulder further towards me, her left boob pressing softly against the right side of my chest. I craved more, yet a nervous tremor ran through me, anticipating my body's reaction.
"Shiva," Asha said, her voice gentle, "I have to go to the hospital this afternoon. My husband said he can't come. Will you come?"
"Nisha is there, right?" I countered, surprised.
"It's not that," she explained, "if you come, you'll be a help to me, won't you? You can buy what's needed at the medical shop. Nisha will look after the baby."
"Hmm... but my tuition..."
"It's just for half a day, Shiva. I'll tell Nisha."
"Okay, I'll come."
"Thank you so much..." she said, her voice laced with gratitude, and then she kissed my cheek.
Again, I was caught off guard, frozen in place.
"Look at me," she instructed softly.
I turned my head, meeting her intense gaze. I held her stare, captivated.
"Did you tell your mom yesterday?" she asked, her voice a low murmur. She was referring to the kiss.
"What?" I feigned ignorance.
"The kiss."
"No," I replied, "you said babies don't happen, and it was a mistake, so I didn't tell her."
She rested her right hand on my face, her soft fingers tracing my chin. It felt incredibly pleasant.
"I kissed you yesterday, how did it feel?" she asked, her gaze unwavering.
I didn't know why she asked, but my curiosity was piqued. "I was scared," I admitted.
"Why, dear?"
"I told you yesterday, didn't I?"
"Never mind that, did you like it?"
"Like what?" I stalled.
"The kiss."
"I'm telling you I was scared, not that I liked it. You shouldn't give it to me, you should give it to your husband."
In an instant, she turned her neck and pressed her lips to mine once more. I froze, just like yesterday, a wave of surprise washing over me.
Could Asha truly enjoy this with me?
For a few moments, I remained in awe, my eyes wide, gazing into hers. She closed her eyes, pressing her lips harder against mine. I moaned, "Mmm," parting my lips slightly, and she pushed her lower lip into my mouth. I tentatively placed my hand on her shoulder; it was so soft that I couldn't resist lightly squeezing the flesh with my fingers. Asha shifted subtly, her fingers caressing the back of my head as she gently bit my upper lip.
Was this real? Or was it all a dream?
I took a heavy breath and opened my mouth. She swallowed my entire lip, sucking on it and touching her tongue to the edges of my upper lip.
If I continued like this, she might grow suspicious. With a surge of resolve, I gently pushed her back by her shoulder.
We both took deep, ragged breaths, our eyes locking once more. I pretended to be scared, looking down. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me towards her.
"What happened?" she whispered.
"Uh-huh..." I mumbled, my voice barely audible.
"Tell me, did you like it?"
"I won't tell you. Why are you kissing me?"
"Haha," she laughed softly, "because you liked it."
I remained silent.
"Didn't you like it?" she prompted.
I made no sound. She turned my face towards her. "Tell me."
Looking innocent, I nodded vertically, a subtle affirmation.
"Do you want another one?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
I turned my face away again. She laughed, pulled my face back, and leaned over me.
"Don't be scared, tell me, do you want it?"
"Uh..."
Once again, she joined lips. This time, I took her upper lip into my mouth and kissed her back.
She took my left hand and placed it behind her head. She pushed her tongue into my mouth, and I met it with my lips, sucking gently.
"Mmmmmm..." Asha moaned.
I couldn't stop myself. I was holding her lower lip and sucking on it. She was cooperating, giving me her saliva, which began to trickle down the corner of my lips. She wiped it away with her thumb. Breaking the kiss, she looked into my eyes, breathing heavily. As her chest heaved, I felt a familiar heat between my legs.
She showed me her thumb, which had my saliva on it, and then, to my surprise, sucked it.
"It's wrong to eat saliva like that..." I said, a faint blush creeping up my neck.
She smiled mischievously. "It's nothing, dear. If you want, you can take mine."
"Really, it's nothing?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and intrigue.
"Yes..." she said, opening her mouth. She rubbed her right index finger under her tongue, took it out, and put it in my mouth. I instinctively licked it.
"Now tell me," she prompted.
"Uh..."
"Say 'ah'."
"Ah."
She leaned over my face, put her tongue in my mouth, and kissed me again. I closed my mouth, and we both began sucking on each other's lips.
As I bit and sucked on her thick, strawberry-like lips, an intense heat built up inside me, a consuming fire.
Suddenly, she released me, moving away. Her pallu had shifted over her left breast during our passionate kiss, and I noticed a wet stain near her nipple.
I felt as if she was just as aroused as I was, her nipples hardened, perhaps even a drop of milk escaping.
"Don't tell Nisha," she whispered, and with that, she ran into her room, clutching the baby food bowl. I immediately wiped my mouth.
A confusion of emotions swirled within me. Had I come here to see her, or was she simply using me because I had come?
If Nisha ever found out about this, she might not even let me into the house. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to give up hope on Asha.
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The lingering scent of Asha's kiss had barely faded when a different kind of warmth ignited between my legs. I pulled a book from my bag, propped it open on a pad, and tried to lose myself in the words. Just then, Nisha emerged from her bath, a vision in a pink T-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs and a pair of denim shorts.
A primal urge seized me, a desire to pounce, to sink my teeth into those exposed thighs. My mind, already softened by her perceived sweetness, reeled from this fresh, intoxicating display. My whole body began to tremble.
"Come on," Nisha's voice cut through my thoughts, "let's go study in my room."
"Why her room now? I'm already burning up," I thought, the heat in my body intensifying.
"Why, Nisha?" I asked aloud, feigning nonchalance.
"Come on, I'll tell you," she replied, a hint of playful mystery in her tone.
I followed, still clutching the book in front of me, a flimsy shield against my burgeoning desire.
Nisha's room was a sanctuary of order. Everything had its place: a spacious area to one side, a neatly made bed on another, and her MacBook nestled in the right corner. An inexplicable sense of peace settled over me, amplified by the pervasive fragrance of women's perfume – unmistakably Nisha's own.
She gestured for me to sit on the bed, and I complied. She joined me, phone in hand. "Will you take some photos of me?" she asked.
I decided to play the innocent. "Nisha, you shouldn't take photos in this nightdress."
A faint smile touched her lips. "This isn't a nightdress. I'm wearing shorts, that's why you thought that."
I wanted to tell her that girls shouldn't dress like this, with their thighs so brazenly displayed, but the risk of her suspecting my true thoughts was too great. "Okay," I managed.
She shifted, leaning back against the wall with a pillow, facing me with one leg crossed over the other. My gaze fixed on her legs, and the book slipped forgotten to the side. In the intoxicating vision of those milky, sculpted thighs, I forgot my own hardening state.
I glanced at Nisha's face. Her eyes were locked on my crotch, her lips slightly parted, a mix of surprise and a touch of embarrassment flickering in their depths. Yet, I continued my charade of blissful ignorance.
"Ready, teacher?" I asked, a playful glint in my eye.
"Yes, ready. Nisha, not 'teacher.' Where did that come from again?" she chuckled.
"Oh, okay, Nisha," I corrected myself.
She adjusted her T-shirt slightly, then looked at her phone with a smile. My eyes, however, were riveted on her legs, now fully visible on the phone screen as I framed the shots. The sight of her legs, save for the curve of her lower buttocks, sent a tingling sensation through my pants.
I met Nisha's gaze, my expression carefully neutral. Her eyes, however, seemed lost in thought, fixed on me. When I glanced back at the phone screen, I saw that her gaze had strayed, fixated on my erect penis.
I needed to clear her suspicion. "Nisha, look at the camera. What are you looking at down there?"
She looked at me, startled, while I maintained my innocent facade. "Should I take more?" I asked.
"Show me first," she requested.
"Ugh, when she says 'show me,' I feel like taking it out and showing it to her." I shuffled closer, seating myself beside her to show her the photos. My penis pressed against my pants, forming a prominent tent between my thighs. Nisha must have been shocked, but I maintained my mask of indifference.
"How are they?" I asked.
"It looks very long," she murmured.
"What?" I feigned confusion.
She flinched, looking down at her phone.
"Here, this picture is good..." I said, pointing to a photo where one of her legs was folded.
"Yes, it's good," she agreed.
"Well, I'm going to study now," I announced, picking up my book.
"Okay," she replied.
I resumed reading, the book once again resting on my legs. Nisha, I imagined, must be thinking that while my body reacted to a woman's touch, I was simply naive and lacked understanding in that area, hence my normal behavior. This perception, I knew, stemmed from her knowledge of my studious nature, my quiet presence in class, and my habit of sitting in the front row. In such a scenario, it wouldn't be surprising if she considered me innocent. Perhaps Nisha was thinking I lacked worldly knowledge now, and that's exactly what I wanted.
Now, I employed my breathing trick. I took a deep breath, consciously diverting my thoughts, focusing solely on my breath. For a few moments, I pretended to stem the flow of blood, keeping my legs perfectly still. I willed the blood to recede from my penis, to make it lose its hardness. I continued this internal exercise while looking at the book.
"Go get some water," Nisha suddenly said.
"Yeah, I'll bring it," I replied, standing up. Nisha's eyes darted to my thighs, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Haha... I knew it, I thought, she wanted to catch me, that's why she made me stand up.
I walked to the fridge without looking at her, grabbed a bottle, and handed it to her. I avoided her gaze, fearing that a direct look might make it hard again. She continued to talk, and the evening passed in a blur. Eventually, I went home to eat.
It was two o'clock by the time I finished eating and returned to Nisha's place. As I stepped inside, Asha came to meet me.
"Shiva, did you tell your family you're coming to the hospital with me?" Asha asked, pulling me from my daze.
I had completely forgotten. "Oh, I didn't."
"Go tell them and let's go now. I have an appointment at three o'clock," she urged.
"Okay, okay, I'll be right back," I promised, and hurried home.
I told my mom Asha had asked me to come, and she assented. I quickly changed into my pants and returned to Asha's house. She emerged wearing a blue saree, looking beautiful as always. I took her in, from bottom to top, a thought crossing my mind: how wonderful it would be if I could hold her waist and ask for another kiss.
"Did you tell them at home?" Asha asked.
"Yes," I confirmed.
"Come on, let's go," she said.
"Baby?" I inquired, confused about Nikhil.
"Nisha will take care of the baby," Asha replied.
We both stepped out, Asha started the car, and we drove off. I sat silently in the car, glancing here and there. Upon reaching the hospital, Asha went into the doctor's room, and I settled into the waiting area.
About half an hour later, Asha reappeared. I approached her and asked what had happened. She simply said there was no medical bill and that we should go home.
As we drove back, I decided to ask about the real issue. "Nikhil didn't bring you. What happened to you?"
"Nothing happened to me," Asha explained. "I feed Nikhil milk, don't I?"
"Oh..." I mumbled, still not understanding.
"I have too much milk," she clarified.
"Oh, if you have too much, Nikhil can drink a lot, right?" I asked innocently.
Asha laughed. "No, he's a small baby, he can't drink all of it. All my milk is left over, and it spoils my dress."
"Oh, does that happen too?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yes, it happens to some people," she confirmed.
"So, what did the doctor say?" I pressed.
"The doctor said if Nikhil doesn't drink the milk, my husband should drink it."
"Oh, is that how it is?" I thought, a flicker of doubt crossing my mind.
Did the doctor really say that, or was Asha telling me this on purpose?
"How does your husband drink it?" I asked, unable to resist.
"The way Nikhil drinks it," she replied.
I laughed, a little too loudly.
"What are you laughing at?" Asha asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Does such a big uncle drink like a small baby?" I questioned, trying to sound amused.
Asha's face clouded with sadness. "Yes, he doesn't drink at all, that's what I'm thinking about..
"So, didn't you ask the doctor for any tablets?" I inquired.
"No, there are no tablets for this, they said there are pumps to extract the milk," she explained.
"Oh, do they have those too? Then take them," I suggested.
"I don't like them. They say they're not good for health," Asha said, dismissing the idea.
"Oh, I see," I replied, a new thought brewing.
She remained silent for a while. As the car went over a speed bump and swayed, Asha's breasts also swayed, and I looked at them, a silent yearning to hold them. Then, I noticed a little wetness accumulating under her breast.
Asha adjusted her pallu, a blush spreading across her cheeks. I didn't know what to say, so I simply thought, "Whatever."
"Your blouse is getting wet," I finally pointed out, my mouth watering at the sight of the dampness.
"Hmm... what can I do? This is my problem," Asha sighed.
"Tell uncle to drink it every night," I suggested, testing the waters.
"He doesn't like milk, that's why I told you earlier he wouldn't drink it," she reiterated.
This was my chance. I had to say something. "What? He doesn't like milk? I'd drink as much milk as you poured, you know how much I like it. My mom buys a small extra packet just for me." As I said that, she looked at me with a little surprise. "Yes, anyway, Uncle is older, so he doesn't drink milk, he drinks tea or coffee. I'm younger, so I drink milk, right?"
"Hmm..." Asha murmured, her gaze lingering on me.
After that, she didn't say a word for fifteen minutes. We reached home. As soon as Asha entered the house, Nikhil was crying for his mother. Asha took him, pacified him, and sat there feeding him milk.
I asked Nisha about tuition, and she told me to come after a while. I left my books on the table, went home, and sat watching Instagram reels. I don't know how much time passed, but Nisha called. I put my phone aside and went.
Nisha asked me to come into her room. Once inside, she looked at me with a mischievous smile.
"Why are you laughing?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"Let's dance together," she announced.
"What? Don't we have some more problems to solve?" I retorted, still reeling from the earlier events.
Nisha came closer, placed her hand on my shoulder, her breasts now only an inch away from my chest. As she looked at me and smiled, Nisha was getting me excited. "No, I have to study," I insisted, my voice a little shaky.
"Study tomorrow," she whispered, and then took my right hand, placing it gently on her waist. Oh, how warm and soft it felt. If it was like this over the T-shirt, how would it be inside?
"But..." I began.
She placed a finger on my lips, silencing me. She moved closer, her breasts lightly brushing against my T-shirt, and my breathing quickened. My penis was filling with blood, a familiar urgency returning.
"Which song do you like?" she purred.
"Naatu Naatu," I blurted out, the first thing that came to mind.
"Tell me a slow song," she countered.
"I don't know... you tell me," I conceded.
"Now let's do a couple dance. Let's play 'Butta Bomma'," she decided.
"I don't know how to do that," I protested.
"You'll learn it by doing it," she assured me.
"But teacher, please no," I pleaded, still clinging to my feigned innocence.
Her eyes widened, a flash of annoyance in their depths. "Hey, I told you not to call me teacher, why do you keep saying it?"
"Sorry, Nisha," I apologized quickly.
She took my left hand and placed both my hands around her waist, then closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of my touch.
"Nisha..." I whispered.
"Mmmm..." she hummed in response.
"You said we'd dance?" I reminded her.
She opened her eyes again and played "Butta Bomma" on her phone, which was already connected to the nearby home theater. My hands were around her waist, but I wasn't gripping her.
Nisha put her hands on my shoulders and pressed them firmly. "You hold my waist too," she instructed.
I innocently did as told, slowly gripping her waist.
"Mmmm..." she groaned, a soft sound of pleasure.
"Now, you take a step forward, and I'll take a step back, like that, a forward and backward step."
I nodded vertically, our bodies swaying to the music. As we danced, my gaze fixated on her lips. I couldn't control my desire. I squeezed her waist a little with my fingers.
"Aahh..." she stopped, a sharp intake of breath.
"Sorry Nisha, did I hold you too tight?" I asked, immediately loosening my grip.
She took my hands and put them back on her waist. "No, hold me like that," she murmured.
I squeezed her waist on both sides with my hands.
"Aah..." she sighed.
"Okay?" I asked, my voice a little husky.
She didn't say anything, and we continued to dance. As we listened to the music, our feet seemed to move on their own.
"What do you like in women?" Nisha asked, breaking the silence.
"What do you mean?" I feigned ignorance.
"What do you mean by 'what'? What do you like?" she pressed.
"I don't know..." I stammered.
"Do you like lips, eyes, what do you like like that?" she continued, her voice laced with curiosity.
"I don't think like that," I replied, sticking to my innocent persona.
"Don't you look at women?" she challenged.
"Uh-uh, that's a bad habit," I said, shaking my head.
"Haha, who told you?" she laughed.
"No one told me. You have to respect women, right?" I countered.
She moved closer to my face, her breath brushing against my chin, sending a jolt through me. My penis heated up like a thermometer and poked out. She looked down and laughed, a knowing glint in her eyes. I didn't know what to do, so I simply asked, "Nisha, if you come close like this, it happens. Can you move away?"
She laughed, whether she expected it or not. I certainly hadn't expected her reaction. "It's nothing, you're a boy and I'm a girl, so it happens to you," she said, her voice soft.
"But it hurts," I insisted, my voice tight.
"What? Why would it hurt?" she asked, a hint of concern in her tone.
"Oh, yeah. That's why I said no," I mumbled, playing along.
"If the pain decreases, you should go to the bathroom and do it, it will decrease," she offered.
"I don't need to go to the toilet," I corrected her.
"Not the toilet," she clarified.
"Then what else should I do?" I asked, feigning utter ignorance.
"Don't you know?" she teased.
"No," I replied, curious to see what she would say.
"Oh, don't lie. Haven't you ever held it and played with it?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"No," I lied.
"Really?" she pressed.
"Yes," I affirmed.
"What do you do if it hurts?" she asked.
"I don't do anything. If I take off my pants and sit down, it just goes away," I explained, maintaining my innocent act.
She came close and put her hand on my pants. As she put her hand there, my penis tingled.
"Ah... no, it hurts," I moaned, as if in pain.
She wrapped her left arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "Does it really hurt, Shiva?”
"Please, Nisha, let go, it hurts," I pleaded, my voice strained.
"Should I tell you what to do to reduce the pain?" she asked, her gaze fixed on mine.
"Yes, please tell me," I begged, an internal battle waging within me.
What was really happening here? I had imagined how difficult this would be, but it was turning out in my favor, I couldn't believe it.
"I'll tell you, but you shouldn't tell anyone that I told you," she whispered conspiratorially.
"No, I won't," I promised.
"Good boy," she smiled. "Tell me, have you ever released anything other than urine?"
"Yes, once something white came out," I confessed, remembering the wet dream.
"How did you feel then?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"I was asleep then, and my underwear was ruined. I threw it out, thinking mom might scold me," I recounted, feigning embarrassment.
"Haha, you did a good job," she laughed.
"Hmm," I grunted.
"Now you have to release that white stuff, otherwise it will hurt like this," she instructed.
"No, I went back to sleep, but it didn't happen again," I countered.
"Not in sleep, you have to do it now, only then the pain will go away," she insisted.
I didn't expect Nisha to trust me so blindly. "Tell me what to do?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Now tell me, what do you like about me?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know," I replied, sticking to my script.
"Oh, not like that. Okay, I'll tell you what to do," she said, a hint of playful impatience in her voice.
"Hmm..." I urged, looking at her intently. She lifted her T-shirt near her waist, revealing her stomach. How beautiful it was, like two crescent moons sitting on either side, and in the middle, a milky white field, and in its center, a small, deep navel. Seeing that, my little guy was jumping with anticipation.
"Take off your pants," she commanded.
"Why?..." I said, feigning nervousness.
"Take it out," she urged.
"Oh no, I'm shy," I protested.
"Okay, your pain, your choice. Let's dance," she said, turning away.
"Oh no," I quickly responded, not wanting to miss this opportunity.
"Then pull your pants down," she instructed.
I pretended to be shy and pulled down my pants and innerwear at the same time, and my penis sprung out.
"Wow... what is this, dear?" Nisha exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment as she stared at my penis.
I pulled back the foreskin of my penis. "Aah... it hurts, tell me what to do, Nisha, please," I pleaded, feigning agony.
Nisha grabbed her T-shirt with her right hand, showing me her waist, and looked at my penis greedily, then quickly grabbed it with her left hand. How soft her fingers were! Oh, it felt so good, I closed my eyes happily and took a deep breath. No, I shouldn't react like this, I need to react differently.
"Aaah... Nisha, no, it hurts," I groaned, trying to sound distressed.
"Hey, don't yell," she whispered, but my shout wouldn't go out, the song was playing, right?
"Please, Nisha, let go," I begged.
She stroked my penis with her fingers and pulled it close. I took a step forward. "Wow, what a thing you have, that's why it hurts you," she marveled.
I laughed inwardly, pretending to be in pain externally.
"Hey, now poke the head of your penis into my navel," she instructed.
I poked my penis into her navel. I don't know how she felt, but my knees were floating in the air.
"Aahh... Mmm..." Nisha moaned.
"Mmm Nisha," I echoed, my voice thick with desire.
"You need to rub your penis up and down on my waist," she instructed.
"Okay, yeah," I gasped, my hands instinctively grabbing her waist on both sides, like two crescent moons. Oh, it felt like holding a soft piece of paneer. I pressed my penis against her waist and rubbed it up and down.
"Mmmm... like that," Nisha groaned, her breath coming in short gasps.
Oh, how soft it was, my little guy was enjoying it so much. As I rubbed my balls, touching them below Nisha's navel, oh, a new pleasure was making my nerves tingle. I couldn't hold back.
"Aah Nisha, something's happening to me, I feel like I need to pee," I moaned, the truth barely disguised.
"That's not pee, don't stop it," she whispered, her voice husky.
My penis was trembling and throbbing from inside. "Mom... aah... it hurts..."
And then I ejaculated my semen onto her navel. It shot out like a fountain, a little on the edges of her T-shirt, and half of it dripped down onto her shorts. I stepped back, panting, completely dazed.
"Did the pain go away?" Nisha asked, her eyes still wide.
"Yes, it did, Nisha, it felt very good," I replied, a wave of satisfaction washing over me.
"Okay, you go outside, I need to change my dress," she instructed, her voice calm again.
I pulled up my pants and went out, my mind reeling.
I had thought one thing, and another had happened. I had to see what else they would do next.
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Please keep updating this story as well
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The following day found Nisha and me immersed in our studies in her room. Again, she was dressed in a white shirt and green shorts. After a long stretch of studying, Nisha closed the door and moved closer to me.
"Hey, did your pain subside yesterday?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Yes, it feels much better," I replied, genuinely relieved.
"Hmm... Have you really never, you know, done it yourself?"
I shrugged. "I don't know about all that."
"Do you know you have sperm?"
"Yeah, I read about it in tenth grade."
"You ejaculated those sperms yesterday, right?"
"Yes, but I didn't know it beforehand."
"Hmm."
"But isn't it wrong to waste sperm like that?" I ventured.
She chuckled. "It's nothing like that. You're feeling pain because you're not ejaculating them."
"Hmm..."
"How did it feel yesterday?" she pressed, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Super. Holding your waist felt so pleasurable."
She paused, a flicker of anger crossing her face. "Is holding your waist wrong?" I quickly asked.
A laugh escaped her lips. "No, it's not."
"You asked yesterday what I liked. I liked your waist, Nisha," I confessed, watching a blush creep onto her cheeks. She placed her hand on me and pulled me closer.
"Will you hold it again?" she whispered in my ear.
"Hmm..." I nodded, smiling.
"I'll tell you one thing, you have to do it then."
"I will," I promised.
"You have to kiss my navel."
"No, Nisha. Only husbands should kiss that, right? You're asking me to kiss?"
"I don't have a husband, do I?" she retorted.
"No."
"Now, you are my husband. Will you do it then?"
"Let's study for a bit longer," I tried to deflect.
She gently turned my face towards hers. "You study well, I know. I'll teach you, okay? Don't be afraid."
"Hmm..."
Nisha stood up and lifted her shirt, exposing her waist. She took a step closer, her face near mine. "Kiss my navel."
"No, Nisha, it'll be like yesterday again, I'll feel pain."
"If you feel pain, I'll tell you what to do. First, do what I tell you."
Hesitantly, I wrapped my hands around her waist. It was incredibly soft. I pressed with my four fingers behind and my thumb in front. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan, "Ummmmm."
I just kept looking at her. She opened her eyes, met my gaze, and urged, "Kiss it."
I leaned forward, my warm lips finding her small navel. "Ah..." she gasped, her waist trembling beneath my touch.
I looked up. "I did it."
"Keep kissing it," she instructed.
I continued to kiss, murmuring, "Umm."
"Oh, how good it feels, mmm..." she sighed, her hands tangling in my hair as she squirmed while I kissed her navel.
Suddenly, she lifted my head. Our eyes locked. "Kiss my entire waist."
Without a moment's hesitation, I eagerly showered her entire waist with kisses. "S...ha," she breathed. The smooth skin of her waist, the soft flesh beneath my lips, filled me with a primal lust, a desire to bite. Without thinking, I stuck my tongue out and plunged it into her navel. Perhaps her nerves tingled, for she groaned loudly, pressing her waist against my face, "Aahh."
I recoiled as if startled. "What happened, Nisha?"
"Nothing. It felt good. Do it again."
Again, I plunged my tongue into her navel and began to swirl it, a strange sensation, as if I were tasting sweet, milky khoa. "Ah, mm," she moaned. My lips were now gently biting her waist.
She pulled my hair back. "What are you doing?"
"Your waist is very smooth, it's sweet, I want to eat it," I confessed.
"Gently, okay?"
"Okay, Nisha." That was exactly what I wanted: to slowly kiss her entire waist and tempt her.
As I measured her waist with my lips and plunged my tongue into her navel, Nisha couldn't bear it, perhaps, and moved back. "Umm Nisha, it feels good, your waist, umm..."
She took my legs between hers and sat on my thighs. My face nestled into her neck. I stopped and looked at her face. She looked at me and moved even closer. Gradually, as my penis brushed against her thighs, she flinched. "Ah..."
"What happened?"
"Yours is poking between my thighs."
"Sorry, you sat down yourself, I didn't know what to say."
"Shiva, did you really like my waist?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur.
"Yes, very much."
"I liked your dick."
"What does that mean?"
"The one that's down there."
"Hmm..."
"Nisha, isn't it wrong for you to look at mine like this?" I questioned, feeling a blush creep up my neck.
Immediately, she moved aside, reached into my pants, and grasped me. "Ash, no, Nisha, it hurts!" I protested. Looking at me, she pulled down my pants, took out my penis, and began to shake it with her hand. Oh, my body was floating away. "Ah, Nisha," I moaned.
"Does it feel good?"
"Yes."
She held my neck with her right hand and pulled my face into her neck. "Give me a kiss." I kissed the curve of her neck. She increased the pace of her hand. I was rubbing my lips on her neck with unrestrained desire.
"Mmm... Are you feeling good?"
"Yes, I am."
"Did you like it?"
"Yes."
"You have to pay me tuition fees."
"Yes."
"I don't want money.”
"What?"
"You have to show me your dick every day."
"I will show you," I promised, my voice barely a whisper.
She rubbed her thumb on the head of my penis. It swelled further, and a pleasant sensation coursed through me.
"Mmmm."
"Oh, is it getting bigger?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
"I don't know."
"Stand up and take off your pants."
Without a word, I took off my pants and underwear, tossing them aside. She leaned down towards me and grabbed me, pulling gently. I pressed hard against her waist. "Ah, do it like yesterday," she instructed.
I held her waist and moved my hips, rubbing my penis on her navel. "Iss... Oh, how good it feels," she sighed.
"Ah, Nisha, it's super," I breathed.
Just then, Asha's voice cut through the air. "Asha: Nisha, open the door."
We froze, startled, and quickly moved away from each other. "Oh, coming, sister," Nisha called out. "You go into the bathroom, I'll say you went to the toilet."
"Yes, okay," I agreed, grabbing my pants and scrambling into the bathroom.
I heard Nisha opening the door and pressed my ear to the door, straining to hear Asha. "What are you doing? He came to study."
What? Did Asha see? How?
"Akka, I told you, why did you come in the middle? You ruined a good time," Nisha's voice was surprisingly calm.
What kind of twist was this?
"You said you'd dance in the evening, you can do whatever you want with him then, fondle him wherever you want, but let him study now. He looks so innocent, what if he tells the family we did this if he gets bad marks?" Asha lectured.
"Yes, that's true. Akka, when you and brother-in-law do it, and I see his dick, I can't control myself. You don't understand how much I hold back. His is like a cucumber. I was playing with it for a while, and you came and disturbed me," Nisha complained.
"Yes... Not everything at once, slowly. What did I tell you, and what are you doing?" Asha's tone was exasperated.
"If you tell me to kiss, I can't stop."
"Oh, you're going to cause trouble. I told you to romance, scratch your itching vagina, but it won't be good if you get pregnant, especially since you're supposed to get married. If his penis goes in, your virgin vagina will tear."
"Akka, what if he puts it in?" Nisha asked, a hint of mischievousness in her voice.
"No, he won't. He's freaking out just from a kiss. If he wants to put it in, I'll take it, okay?" Asha replied.
"Thief, your husband doesn't fuck, and you'll take on a kid?" Nisha retorted playfully.
"Yes, you just be a little in control, dear," Asha said, her voice softening.
"Okay, go."
"No, his dad is calling him. Tell him to go."
"Okay, you go."
All this made my head spin. What on earth was happening here? They intentionally let me into the house. One wanted to "fuck," the other called me a "cucumber." What exactly was their plan with me?
"Shiva, come out, your dad is calling you," Nisha's voice broke through my thoughts.
I pretended not to know anything, pulled on my pants, pressed my penis down, and walked out.
"Bye, come back after eating, we'll study then, okay?" Nisha said, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"But until now?" I asked, confused.
"Leave that now."
"Okay." I then went home, my mind reeling from the encounter.
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My dad told me to go to the shop and get eggs, and when I came back, Mom had cooked spinach dal with mango. Eating that spinach dal with rice, some mango pickle, a spoonful of ghee, and an omelet on the side was heavenly, and I even licked the dal off my fingers. After it was all done, chewing on a piece of mango in my cheek gave me a kick. Chewing it, I went to tuition.
Nisha taught me. She was a bit strict with me. She made me repeat what she asked and rewrite what I had already written. In the middle, Asha gave us some lemonade once.
It was 5 PM. Nisha told me to go home. Asha was in the kitchen talking to her husband. Nisha didn't come out of her room. I felt a desire when I saw Asha. I looked at Asha to tell her I was leaving, and she signaled me to come.
As I took a step towards her, she hung up the phone. As soon as I entered the kitchen, she grabbed my shirt collar, pulled me, and pushed me against the wall.
I was surprised, "What is she doing?" I thought Nisha saw what happened and would scold me. I looked into her eyes with fear. She came closer to me and pressed her full breasts against my chest. The pressure of her breasts felt very soft to me. She was warm, and her breasts were like cotton balls.
But I saw some sadness in her face.
Asha: Do you remember what the doctor said after we went to the hospital yesterday?
She was talking so close to me, it made me dizzy.
Me: Yeah.
Asha: Last night, I asked my husband, and he said he wouldn't drink.
Me: Oh no.
Asha: Do you know any small children in our colony?
Me: Why?
Asha: I want to give them my milk.
Me: There's no one younger than me in our street except your Nikhil.
She moved back. I remained silent.
She took my right hand and placed it on her left breast.
"Is this really happening?" I thought. "Ah, her breast felt like a cotton ball to my fingerprints." From inside her jacket, warm currents of air from her skin touched my hands. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, wondering how my touch felt to her.
I softly called out, "Asha."
She opened her eyes. Asha: You like milk, right?
Me: Hmm... yes.
Asha: It hurts here.
I gently pressed my fingers and carefully touched her breast. Maybe it hurt her, she quietly cried, "Ahh."
I immediately let go of her breast. Asha looked at me deeply.
Asha: Hold it.
Me: It hurts.
Asha: It's okay, hold it.
I brought my right hand back up and cupped her breast in my palm.
Asha: Mmmmmm.... she moaned with a lustful expression, biting her lip.
I didn't know what to say. She had to ask me, then I would have the upper hand.
Me: Asha, I have to go home.
Asha: I need a favor.
Me: What?
Asha: It hurts here because I have too much milk. You have to relieve it.
Me: What? How can I do that?
Asha: You like milk, right? You have to drink my milk.
Am I dreaming? No, no, I understood this morning that this was happening. I just didn't expect it so soon.
Now I have to answer her carefully.
Me: But Asha... that...
Asha: But nothing. Do you like milk or not?
Me: I do.
Asha: Drink my milk every evening. You don't need to drink it at home. Tell your mom you drank it at tuition.
That's enough, what more do I need? Just a small doubt, and I need clarity on that too.
Me: Okay, I'll go home and get my Naruto milk cup.
Asha: No need.
Me: But I drink milk in that every day.
Asha held my hand and led me to her bedroom. Nikhil was sleeping in the cradle there. She made me sit on the bed, sat next to me, and held my face.
Asha: Look, Shiva, you shouldn't tell anyone about this, okay?
Me: Why?
Asha: You're not a small child. It wouldn't look good if I gave milk to a college-going boy instead of a small child. Everyone will call me bad.
Me: Why would they say that?
She must be thinking, "Poor boy, he doesn't even know this," and feels sorry for me.
Asha: You don't know, just listen to what I'm saying.
Me: Hmm, okay.
She leaned towards me and kissed my lips with hers. Dizzily, I put my hand behind her head and kissed her. I sucked both of her lips alternately and then released them.
She put her hands on my shoulders, pulled me into her lap, and made my head rest on her thighs. Now, like a baby, I leaned my head and neck on her legs.
I knew what was going to happen now. She would open her blouse, reveal her breasts, and tell me to suck. As I thought this, hormones surged in my brain, sending signals through my nerves, and my penis suddenly hardened. I think she couldn't see it because my legs were folded.
Asha: Now I'll put my breast in your mouth, and milk will come out. You have to drink it.
I silently nodded yes. She unhooked the bottom two hooks of her blouse, lifted her bra from the lower edge of her left breast, and exposed half of her breast. "Oh, it's like a mango, white and swollen, with a red cherry-like nipple." My eagerness couldn't be contained, and I opened my mouth. She leaned down and touched her nipple to my lips.
Uff... my penis twitched. But I had to act as if I knew nothing. So, even though she was offering, I pretended not to notice.
She pushed her nipple into my mouth. I kept my mouth open.
Asha: Now close your mouth.
This was my chance, so I softly bit Asha's soft mango-like breast with my lips, as if biting into mango pulp. Her breast was sweet, with the smell of milk and sweat, which intoxicated me.
Asha released her breast and held my face, crying out, "Aaaah!"
I reduced the pressure and looked at her. She was caressing my face. I pulled my face away and to the side.
Me: No milk is coming.
Asha: Don't bite, suck.
I again moved my tongue over her nipple and licked it.
Asha: Mmmmmm....
I took it into my mouth and sucked it like a rupee Pepsi.
Her warm, delicious milk spurted into my mouth. My excitement grew. I held Asha's hand, lifted my neck to her nipple, and took more than she offered into my mouth, sucking vigorously.
She closed her eyes and remained like a doll. I didn't want to do anything now. I'll see about it when I suck again another time.
I spent about six minutes silently doing nothing but sucking her breast and drinking milk. She suddenly held my head and pushed it aside.
Asha: That's enough for today.
Me: The milk is sweet, I want some more.
Asha: No, Nikhil needs it. You drank a lot. I'll give it to you tomorrow, okay?
"Tomorrow?" I thought, "I might have to wait until next week."
Me: Did your pain decrease?
Asha: Ha, thanks.
Me: Asha, will you give me a kiss? .... and sat up.
Asha kissed my lips again. I sucked her upper lip, and we both leaned sideways on the bed, I put my left leg over her, and sweetly bit her upper lip with both of my lips. She was also licking my lips.
Me: Your lips are sweet too.
Asha: Will you suck my lips and milk every day?
Me: Yes.
She held my cheeks, lifted my neck, and put her mouth into mine. I made my tongue rub against hers.
Asha: Ummm.
Me: Mmmm.
As our saliva flowed onto her cheekbones, I licked her cheeks. Her cheeks turned red like hibiscus flowers. She looked at me with surprise.
Me: What happened?
Asha: Nothing, thanks.
Me: I don't want thanks.... and took her lower lip again.
She quickly released the kiss.
Asha: Enough, go, he'll be home soon.
Me: Okay, bye.
At night, I watched Nisha's room as usual. Today, the window was open. Nisha had just entered her room, went towards the wardrobe, took off her pants, put on shorts, and came to the window. She saw me.
Nisha: Hey, what are you looking at?
Me: Nothing.
Nisha: Go to sleep, it's eleven.
Me: Yeah, I'll go. Good night.
She smiled, said, "Good night," and closed the curtain.
I then went to sleep. I was only thinking about Nisha, her thighs, her waist, the thought of holding her waist made me feel hot, and also what I had spent with Asha. I was asleep, but my little brother was awake.
In the morning, the sunlight fell on my face, and I opened my eyes. I felt a slight weight on my forehead, and when I looked up, it was a white left hand. I touched that hand with my left hand and caressed it. How soft it was.
"Whose hand is this?" I wondered, looking to the side. Those same rose lips, a small pointed nose, milky white complexion. What was Nisha doing next to me? I was stunned and sat up.
My penis was hard between my eyes, Nisha's right hand was inside my pants, wrapped around my erect penis and holding it.
How did Nisha get inside? Oh, right, yesterday I forgot to lock the door from the inside. But still, didn't my mom see?
Whatever, I leaned back. Seeing Nisha's face made me smile. She was eight years older than me, but she seemed very cute. As I touched her right cheek and looked at her lips, my thumb automatically brushed her lower lip.
I wanted to look at her more, so I moved closer and continued to brush her lips. Was she in a deep sleep, or was she pretending, or was I dreaming? I couldn't understand anything.
I kept looking at her lips. I couldn't hear anything except the ceiling fan above, Nisha's breathing below, and my own breathing.
In the blink of an eye, Nisha moved her face forward and touched her lips to mine. My cold body was suddenly filled with warmth.
I was shocked. I moved back.
She was smiling with her eyes closed.
Me: Nisha, what is this? Why are you here?
She opened her eyes.
Nisha: You were looking through the window yesterday, why?
Me: Just because.
She looked at my room door, then at me, and smiled.
Nisha: Haha... I locked it, don't worry.
Me: Hmm.
Nisha: Be quiet.
Me: Nisha, if my mom sees...
Nisha: I told your mom and came here.
Me: What? How?
Nisha: I told her I had a problem in my room last night and couldn't sleep in my sister's room, so I came to stay in your room.
How did my mom agree so easily? Well, it's for my good, I thought.
Then she squeezed my penis.
Me: Ahh....
Nisha: What's wrong with yours, it's like this even in sleep?
Me: I don't know.
Nisha: Take it out, show me.
I slowly pulled down my pants. With her delicate fingers, she pulled back the foreskin from the head of my penis and started playing with it. So much pleasure in the morning!
Me: Ahh Nisha, stop.
Nisha: Hey, do you want my lips?
Me: No, that was just a slip.
Nisha: I want them, will you give them to me?
Me: Yes....
Her hand speeded up.
She put her face on mine. Nisha: Hold my head and kiss my lips.
I held her head with my left hand, lifted my neck, and took her lips. How delicate her rose petals were. I started sucking them warmly with my mouth, and she also kissed me in response.
For five minutes, I sucked her lips without thinking. We couldn't breathe, so I let go.
Both of us were breathing heavily. As she scratched my penis with her index finger, it swelled.
When she rubbed the glands of my penis with her thumb, my body tingled, and I lifted my hips.
Uff, if I came, it would be a big problem. My room doesn't have a bathroom. If I came in the bed, the blanket would get dirty.
Me: No Nisha, please, the blanket will get ruined.
Nisha: Hey, I really like your dick.
Me: Geez, Nisha, why would you talk like that?
Nisha: It's okay.
She kissed me again. I kissed her back and started biting her lower lip passionately. She was passionately playing with my penis. Fear was rising in me.
Me: Hah Nisha, no.
Nisha: Hmm, I want it.
Me: Please, Teacher, let go.
That's it, she let go. She looked at me angrily.
Me: Sorry.
Nisha: Okay, bye. You don't want me, right? You don't like me, right? Don't even come to tuition. Bye.
Me: I didn't say that.
She sulked, made a face, opened the door, and left. I closed the door before my family could see.
That night, I watched Nisha's room as usual. Today, the window was open. Nisha had just entered her room, went towards the wardrobe, took off her pants, put on shorts, and came to the window. She saw me.
Nisha: Hey, what are you looking at?
Me: Nothing.
Nisha: Go to sleep, it's eleven.
Me: Yeah, I'll go. Good night.
She smiled, said, "Good night," and closed the curtain.
I then went to sleep. I was only thinking about Nisha, her thighs, her waist, the thought of holding her waist made me feel hot, and also what I had spent with Asha. I was asleep, but my little brother was awake.
In the morning, the sunlight fell on my face, and I opened my eyes. I felt a slight weight on my forehead, and when I looked up, it was a white left hand. I touched that hand with my left hand and caressed it. How soft it was.
"Whose hand is this?" I wondered, looking to the side. Those same rose lips, a small pointed nose, milky white complexion. What was Nisha doing next to me? I was stunned and sat up.
My penis was hard between my eyes, Nisha's right hand was inside my pants, wrapped around my erect penis and holding it.
How did Nisha get inside? Oh, right, yesterday I forgot to lock the door from the inside. But still, didn't my mom see?
Whatever, I leaned back. Seeing Nisha's face made me smile. She was eight years older than me, but she seemed very cute. As I touched her right cheek and looked at her lips, my thumb automatically brushed her lower lip.
I wanted to look at her more, so I moved closer and continued to brush her lips. Was she in a deep sleep, or was she pretending, or was I dreaming? I couldn't understand anything.
I kept looking at her lips. I couldn't hear anything except the ceiling fan above, Nisha's breathing below, and my own breathing.
In the blink of an eye, Nisha moved her face forward and touched her lips to mine. My cold body was suddenly filled with warmth.
I was shocked. I moved back.
She was smiling with her eyes closed.
Me: Nisha, what is this? Why are you here?
She opened her eyes.
Nisha: You were looking through the window yesterday, why?
Me: Just because.
She looked at my room door, then at me, and smiled.
Nisha: Haha... I locked it, don't worry.
Me: Hmm.
Nisha: Be quiet.
Me: Nisha, if my mom sees...
Nisha: I told your mom and came here.
Me: What? How?
Nisha: I told her I had a problem in my room last night and couldn't sleep in my sister's room, so I came to stay in your room.
How did my mom agree so easily? Well, it's for my good, I thought.
Then she squeezed my penis.
Me: Ahh....
Nisha: What's wrong with yours, it's like this even in sleep?
Me: I don't know.
Nisha: Take it out, show me.
I slowly pulled down my pants. With her delicate fingers, she pulled back the foreskin from the head of my penis and started playing with it. So much pleasure in the morning!
Me: Ahh Nisha, stop.
Nisha: Hey, do you want my lips?
Me: No, that was just a slip.
Nisha: I want them, will you give them to me?
Me: Yes....
Her hand speeded up.
She put her face on mine. Nisha: Hold my head and kiss my lips.
I held her head with my left hand, lifted my neck, and took her lips. How delicate her rose petals were. I started sucking them warmly with my mouth, and she also kissed me in response.
For five minutes, I sucked her lips without thinking. We couldn't breathe, so I let go.
Both of us were breathing heavily. My penis was throbbing as she scratched it with her index finger.
When she rubbed the glands of my penis with her thumb, my body tingled, and I lifted my hips.
Uff, if I came, it would be a big problem. My room doesn't have a bathroom. If I came in the bed, the blanket would get dirty.
Me: No Nisha, please, the blanket will get ruined.
Nisha: Hey, I really like your dick.
Me: Geez, Nisha, why would you talk like that?
Nisha: It's okay.
She kissed me again. I kissed her back and started biting her lower lip passionately. She was passionately playing with my penis. Fear was rising in me.
Me: Hah Nisha, no.
Nisha: Hmm, I want it.
Me: Please, Teacher, let go.
That's it, she let go. She looked at me angrily.
Me: Sorry.
Nisha: Okay, bye. You don't want me, right? You don't like me, right? Don't even come to tuition. Bye.
Me: I didn't say that.
She sulked, made a face, opened the door, and left. I closed the door before my family could see.
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The following ten hours melted away as I made my way to Nisha's, books tucked under my arm. No matter how persistent my knocking, her door remained a stubborn barrier. Then Asha arrived, her voice cutting through the silence.
"Hey Nisha, open the door! He's here to study."
"I won't open it," Nisha retorted, her voice muffled.
Asha turned to me, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "You go home. She'll call you if she wants you."
So, I retreated to the hall, surrendered to the inevitable, and with a sigh, opened my book. Moments later, Nisha emerged, her presence a whirlwind as she swept past me into the kitchen, pointedly avoiding my gaze. As she turned to re-enter her room, I stepped into her path. She bristled, her face contorted in anger, and brushed past me.
"Don't talk to me," she spat.
Silenced, I resolved to leave once she was safely back in her room, the door firmly shut. Just then, Asha's voice called out, beckoning me.
I followed her into her room. The moment I crossed the threshold, she pushed me onto the bed, then climbed atop me, her lips pressing against my face in a flurry of kisses. Confusion reigned. A pang of sadness for Nisha's distant demeanor shot through me. I gently took Asha's head in my hands, bringing her movements to a halt.
"No, I'll go," I said.
"Why? What happened?" Asha asked, her breath still warm on my face.
"There's no tuition today, right?"
"Drink some milk and then go," she cajoled.
"No, Asha, I'll come in the evening."
"Why is Nisha angry with you?"
"She came to me last night, and in the morning, when I told her to leave, she told me not to come for tuition," I explained, the words tumbling out.
"Is that all? Is there anything else?" Asha probed, a clear invitation for more. But I remained silent.
"Yes, that's all," I affirmed.
"It's nothing, she'll call you later." As she spoke, she gently took my left hand and guided it to her right breast. My fingers instinctively curled, gripping and squeezing.
"Aahh..." Asha moaned softly.
"It's so bubbly..." I squeezed again, a wave of desire washing over me.
"Mmm..." she purred, letting her pallu drift over my face. I brushed it aside, my eyes opening to a breathtaking sight. Before me, like Rati Devi herself, she unveiled her beauty. Her golden-white cleavage, a sight I yearned for daily, was now openly presented. A suppressed rage, a powerful yearning, surged within me.
"You said you like my milk, aren't you going to drink it today?" Asha whispered, her voice laced with invitation.
"Hmm, I'll drink it," I replied, my voice a husky murmur.
"Unhook it and drink it yourself."
My right index finger traced the delicate curve of her cleavage. Asha shivered, biting her lip.
One by one, I unhooked each clasp. The jacket, unable to contain the overflowing bounty, fell away. There, two breasts, soft as marigolds, nestled against my face. She wore no bra beneath, and I suspected her sudden fall upon me was no accident. My face was buried between their yielding softness.
Oh, that tenderness, that exquisite heat against my cheeks, it drove me to distraction.
"Come once..." she said with a laugh, rising slightly.
I lifted my head, and as she ascended, I caught her right breast with my lips, drawing it into my mouth, sucking. Milk flowed, and I swallowed greedily. Her hands tightened in her lap, a silent testament to her anticipation as I drank.
My tongue circled the nipple, teasing.
"Aahh..." Asha gasped.
I continued to suck, to drink, as Asha's soft moans filled the room.
She placed my right hand on her left breast, joining her hand with mine, encouraging me to squeeze. I feigned ignorance, surrendering my hand to her touch. With one breast yielding to my squeeze and the other to my mouth, her pleasure mounted, her body trembling, her moans growing more fervent.
With a soft "puch puch" sound, I passionately drained all the milk from her breast. I turned my head to the side, releasing her left breast, contemplating drawing it into my mouth, but she stopped me, sitting upright.
"That's for tomorrow," she said with a knowing smile.
"Okay," I agreed, a promise hanging in the air.
This became our daily ritual: I would arrive at ten, Nisha would be distant, and Asha would grant me access to her milk as she pleased. Five days passed, then a Sunday, a day I couldn't go because her husband was present.
Then, on a Wednesday, I knocked directly on Nisha's door.
"Nisha, please talk to me. I have many doubts, I need to study," I pleaded.
The door opened, and she seized my hand, pulling me inside before shutting it firmly behind us.
"Tell me, what are your doubts?" she demanded.
"Sorry, Nisha, I made you angry, I was scared," I confessed, my voice soft.
She held my chin, her gaze locking with mine. "Sorry, I troubled you."
"How can I pass the exam if you don't teach me?" I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice.
"Sorry, come, sit, ask me any doubt, I'll tell you," she relented.
Nisha, the diligent teacher, then, without warning, transformed, pouncing with an unexpected fervor. I never understood why. Today was no different. I had studied, gone home for lunch, returned, studied Chemistry, and as evening approached, as soon as I rose to leave, she caught my hand and placed it on her waist.
"Hey, are you leaving without paying tuition fees?" she teased.
"Uh-huh, I won't," I mumbled.
"Okay, let's dance."
"Uh-huh, it's too late, your brother-in-law will come," I protested, though my resolve was weakening.
"It's nothing, just for a while," she insisted, putting on music. As she demonstrated, I moved, following her steps. She guided my hands to her waist. As I caressed that soft curve, something between my legs rose, hissing like a coiled snake.
She turned her back to me, then sank into my lap, making me embrace her from behind. She wrapped my hands around herself, a silent invitation.
"Take off my t-shirt," she whispered.
"Why?"
"I'll tell you, take it off."
I pulled her t-shirt up from behind. Beneath, she wore a gym bra. She turned to face me.
I was spellbound by her beauty. Like a marble sculpture, white, with graceful curves.
She looked at me, raising her hands, pushing her chest forward. Oh, the plumpness! I longed to grab and squeeze it as I had Asha's. Her armpits were hairless, a faint sweat stain and subtle wrinkles visible. Her navel, there were no words.
I stood transfixed, gazing at her with utter contentment.
"Come closer, hold my waist," she commanded softly.
I encircled her waist, my fingers gently squeezing.
"Mmmmmm...." she purred.
"Like this?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Do you feel like squeezing it?"
My eyes fixed on her navel, I replied, "Yes."
"Then squeeze and hold it more."
I couldn't resist, reaching out and grasping her two plump, moon crescents, squeezing them gently.
"Aahh... come closer like that," she urged.
I took another step forward. Her right hand caressed my neck, then gripped the hair at the back of my head, pulling me closer until my face was buried in her left armpit. Her sweat, a unique scent, filled my nostrils. Initially a little uncomfortable, I found myself drawn to it.
"For me..." she began.
"What's for you?"
"For me, there."
Without a word, I extended my tongue and licked her armpit. My cold tongue against her warm skin sent a shiver through her.
"Mmmmm...." she hummed.
I continued to lick, hoping to please her. She released my head, standing with both hands raised, an invitation.
The act of licking her stirred a primal arousal within me, and I licked her with the fervor of a devoted dog, alternating between both armpits.
"Aahh, just like that, mmmmm...." she moaned.
"Nisha, I'm feeling pain," I confessed, my body on fire.
"Take off your pants," she instructed.
I complied, then, exposing myself, I wrapped my arms around her waist again. She intertwined her fingers with mine, holding me close.
"Mmm Nisha," I breathed.
"Did you masturbate?" she asked, her voice low.
"No," I replied truthfully.
"Why not?"
"It feels good when you do it."
Without waiting for her reply, I knelt, my fingers pulling her pants down, revealing her navel. Seeing that deep, alluring hollow, I looked up at her face.
She smiled, stroking my hair. I smiled back, then kissed her navel. She pressed my head against her belly button, and I continued to kiss around her navel, my lips finding and biting the soft, butter-like fat below.
"Isss..." she hissed softly.
"Nisha, I like your navel very much."
"Ha... I also like it when you kiss me like that," she responded.
I continued to kiss her, relentlessly. She lay back on the bed, sweet moans escaping her lips.
She cupped my face in her palms, beckoning me closer. I rose, moved over her, and met her lips.
She bit my lower lip, and I kissed her fiercely. Her left hand cradled the back of my head, while her right stroked my penis from top to bottom.
Unable to contain myself, I thrust my penis against her waist.
"Mmm... Not there today..." she said, placing her hand on my stomach and pushing me back.
I took a step back, my gaze questioning. She slid off the bed and knelt before me. Oh, was she going to put my penis in her mouth? Could I even endure it? I felt on the verge of climax simply from the anticipation. As she knelt before me, her cleavage was fully exposed, causing my penis to swell even more.
She leaned forward, gripped my penis, and began to shake it. I trembled, a pleasurable moan escaping my lips.
"Nisha, uff."
Nisha lifted her left armpit, aimed my penis at it, and looked at me.
Was she telling me to put it in her armpit? Do people even do that?
"Come here, poke it here," she urged.
Without a moment's thought, I pressed my penis into her armpit. She lowered her hand, trapping it there.
"Now, move back and forth."
"Okay," I managed, and began to move my hips, thrusting into her armpit. Oh, I thought, can you really do this?
The wrinkles of her armpit caressed my penis, and the pressure of her folded hand created a rhythmic movement.
"Nisha, what is this?" I asked, my voice breathless.
"I don't know, is it not good?"
"Ha, it's good."
"Ha, keep doing it like that."
"Yes."
I held her shoulder and continued thrusting. My penis rubbed back and forth in her armpit, and I felt myself nearing climax.
"Aahh Nisha, this is very good."
"Is it coming?" she whispered.
"Ha, it's coming, it's coming."
"Mmm... tell me before it comes."
I rubbed even faster, on the brink of spilling.
"Hah hah.... Nisha...mmmmmm," I cried out.
Understanding from my cry that climax was imminent, she lifted her hand, grasped my penis with her right hand, and shook it. I passionately squirted my semen. It splattered in drops, wetting her armpit.
Nisha pushed me onto the bed. I fell back, closed my eyes, and took deep, ragged breaths.
"Stay here, I'll wipe myself and come back," she said.
I opened my eyes to see Nisha leaving the room. I wondered, wasn't she going to the bathroom?
She left, and I got up, opened the door slightly, and peered out. She went directly to Asha's room.
Was my suspicion true or false? What was this? Did Nisha go to Asha's room for that reason just now? Do you share my suspicion? Tell me, Haran.
I waited ten minutes. When Nisha returned, I lay back on the bed. I saw that her armpit was wet with water. She must have cleaned herself.
Nisha came, took my hand, and helped me to my feet.
"Hey, listen, tomorrow it won't be like this. Doing it every day is not good, okay?" she said, her voice firm.
"Ha... whatever you say," I replied, still reeling.
"Okay, go."
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