This is my story. Who am I? I am Shaheen Firdaus. If you are reading this, then it means I have got what I wanted to do. No don't try to find me out or draw any conclusion yet. I am where I intent to be, safe and happy - not to mention satisfied with the turn of the events.
I would start from the most beautiful and adventurous years of my life, my college days.
I got into college and thankfully scholarship was enough to take me to the Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond. In college I met Mark Allen, typical guy next door but to me, he looked like some Greek demi-god. His blue eyes, just a shade of ocean in summer and his unruly dirty brown hair falling across his forehead, made him irresistible - at least for me. He was just too good to let go!
Let us go to body chemistry first. He was what 6ft 2" weight about 80 kgs, athletic built who loves to swim and run. No hair on chest, slight stubble on Monday morning indicating week end with his football friends. No, he is not a football star but a football fan. Yes, like most of us in our class, he wears a rimless glasses. He was American English with traces of Irish blood in him.
Me, I am a curvy, lean, black hair, dark eyes Indian girl with a full mango lips. I am of an average height, 5ft 3" and 65 kgs in weight. My family tree could only be traced back to Iran and India
Both Allen and I were instantly drawn to each other, the day we met. It was raw desire of body. Our classes gave us ample of time to check each other out. We just could not keep our eyes off each other. Was it biochemistry at work or the difference in our DNA attracting each other, I still have no idea. So, different in looks, in culture but similar in passion.
No this is not a mushy romantic regular college story, where we become lab partners and love grow. Can life ever be such a dream! Well, my lab partner was irritating Mirzul Islam who was a burden on earth. How could he carry such an attitude and not be buried, remains a mystery to me. Allen's partner was a girl from Japan, a serious competition. I had to put in something extra. Something that would get his eyes fixed on me.
For those who know - saree helped me, but those who don't know, let me explain saree to you. It is one of the sexiest outfit ever designed. It can reveal the most of the curvy body by concealing a lot of it. It is 5.5 m of rectangular cloth draping the body waist, oh! naval down. One end of the saree travels from waist upwards to slightly conceal the "all revealing choli", which is little more than a brassie. Who ever invented saree, must have been a man, a sensual one who knew how to turn a woman's figure to an enigma. The saree worked its magic and that day, Allen introduced himself in the next break. He invited me to his weekend party. I was waiting for it!
Unfortunately, we did not make out then! Not even to a kiss. He was too courteous and friendly. My girlie-spidy sense said he was interested, still what stopped him? Was it the usual conception (misconception in my case) that Indian girls like to remain virgin till they wed. Or a Muslim girl would rather die than to have sex out of wedlock. Or was he simply afraid to date someone from the land of Kama-Sutra.
For me, I have only one life. Though I respect people who believed or had faith, my life is my faith and my religion, my culture. I know what I want and I work to get it. Breaking occasional taboo was not off limits for me. With Allen, I had to take the first step to steer him in the direction of any physical comfort if I wanted. In matter of few days, we were cheating our partner. Caught you!, I am referring to cheating lab partner. We both are single. As a result, we both were better than our partners. it was fun, both the company and bio-chemistry (no fun intended). We stated staying back in lab and our grades and so did our friendship. Unfortunately, I was not satisfied with just friendship.
Two days before my birthday, I invited Allen over. We borrowed one of our friends' car and we went for a road trip to nowhere. The plan was simple, just drive for two days, sleep under the stars or in any cheap motel or in car and drive back after two days. Spending 4 days together on road was the idea. My bag had only sarees and "choli's". For the first time, saree worked its magic and Allen had invited me over to his place. This time, I was sure that it would work wonders too.
We started with breaking dawn. We drove whole day, talking, laughing and eating all possible junk food. It was fun. By evening, we both were little tired. There were no hotels or motels nearby. There were miles and miles of some orchard. It was difficult to get the details in dark. The grass was dewy and stars bright. We lied down side by side, holding hands, watching the stars. Minutes passed to hours and chatter reduced to whispers. Soon we were just watching the stars, and each other while listening to each other breath.
The blue saree almost looked like black. I was not too fair, but under the moonlight, the contrast was pretty good. I could almost feel his eyes, traveling from my lips to my neck and then sliding down to the beginning of my cleavage that was so nicely covered by the saree. Every now and then, I could feel his eyes wishing to slide down the folds of cloth. I let his lust linger and lust a little more.
We both were on rolled slightly to our sides looking at each other. I rolled back to my back. One end of saree crawls from waist upwards, covering the bosom goes over the left shoulder. With my right hand, I pulled it over and threw it to the other side. Tight from the waist, the saree had covered my legs, but navel up till the blouse line, the skin was bare. Under the white light, it seems to be perfect. His eyes, were confused, would they linger on my cleavage or on my navel. Sides of my waist were inviting him, and then the almost bare arms were distracting him. My breath were heavy, fire in both of my lips. One set of lips I could bite, the other I could only endure with pleasure.
Allen rolled to his side, watching me. He was taking his time. Enjoying every minutes of it. I could feel his fingers sliding down from my chin to neck, tracing the edges of my choli on my skin. I shuddered, it was so long awaited...
His fingers moved from the upper edge to the lower one, sliding slowly towards my navel. Gosh, I could hardly keep my eyes open. His finger, slightly cold, on my ticklish skin went as they pleased. I stopped him as he was bending down to kiss my lips. Not so fast! Once lips began their work, eyes would be mostly closed or unfocused. I wanted eyes to feast little longer. With one hand, I started unhooking my choli. His eyes were fixed on the movement. Finally, the hooks were off, and I opened the flaps, exposing the dark brassie covering my heaving bosom.
Smile was on Allen's lips, his fingers on my waist and stomach. I pulled myself a little higher to kiss him on lips. The odour of greenery, coupled with a passionate kiss seems to have knocked our senses. I reclined back and this time I pulled him to my cleavage. I could feel his lips, breath on my neck, nape and breast. Over the laces of my brassie, I could feel his nibbles. I took his hand and slid it under the saree, traveling upwards. Genius as he was, he took no time to understand the tricks of saree. You need not remove it completely, you can just slide it any way you want.
Allen's shirt was soon gone and so was the last piece of cloth on my upper body. There, I was bare from waist on wet grass. The saree had gone completely astray, it laid crumpled around my knees. My hands were on his back travelling from his unruly hair to his tight buttocks. The cool air was soothing my burning nipples arrogant. My eyes were closed, but I could feel his index finger circling the areola on right and tip of his tongue tracing the same on left. I could feel the wet mud and crumpled grass on my heels. My back was in arch of pleasure, my lips relentlessly bitten by me. His fingers and tongue were all around my nipples, without touching the nips. My light brown areola would have turned pink with lusty pleasure.
My hands were on his back. I could feel think film of sweat on his back. I invited him on me. The rugged jeans rubbed against me flawless, smooth legs, knees down. I could feel his partial weight on me. He was partially supporting himself on his right elbow, but the weight that was on me was pinning me down. I was so exhilarated by being trapped under him. My heart was throbbing and so was my primal instinct. My lust for him was all over me. Each pore of my body wanted him, and wanted him badly. While one set of lips was parched with anticipation, another was burning moist, throbbing with excitement.
His legs were rubbing against mine. His level of readiness was pushing hard against my thighs. My breast were wet with his saliva. I was soaring high into the world of sexual fulfilment, and we had just started! Was it the ecstatic mourn of the gentle breeze rubbing herself against the tall willow, or it was my blood racing against my ears. I was floating, with my eyes closed, being led by him. Slowly, he crawled to my face. Here we were, nude waist up, legs entangled in happy confusion and eyes drunk with thirst.