Laila, sweet, beautiful, sexy Laila, How I want you to take me, hold me, undress for me, open yourself to me, touch my mouth with your soft full lips, kiss my naked body, touch your mouth to my smooth skin, I want to lie with you and love you, let me love you, I want to sit and watch TV with you, and let my hand slide along your bare thigh, and feel your fingers on my skin, I want us to feel the heat of each other, as we touch, as our hands glide closer to our pussies, then to go to bed together, showering, undressing, watching, leading you by your soft hand to my bed, laying you down, staring, oh Laila, your beautiful body, so smooth, so silky and dark, kiss me Laila, let us kiss again, and lick my two tight nipples, and let me slide my tongue over you, please let me, let me kiss my way along your naked body, kiss all over your brown skin, to your belly, your dark bush, let me open your legs and kiss your sweet wet cunt, let me turn your body over and hold my mouth onto your dark hairy asshole, let me come with you, let me drive your hands between my legs, brush our bodies together.
I try to bump into her, she leaves too early, locks herself into her room. When I finally see her she pretends nothing has happened. Can she do this? Convince herself of this?
Some weeks pass, we sit end of year exams, I stay to study, to lose myself in books, to lose myself. I hear her shower and imagine her wet and naked, I hear her use the toilet, and imagine watching, seeing the hot stream of urine coming from her, pulling her, lifting her, crouching beneath and letting her cover me, piss on me, drench my head, my face, my hair, opening my mouth and drinking her.
And, the memory shames me, or would, if it didn't also turn me on, I let myself get asked out, by some other girls on my course, who meet up with some boys on our course. I sat next to Nasir, for most of the night, I knew him a little, he was popular, with his friends, with his male friends, as well as the other girls. He walked me home, or to the train station anyway. We walked together, I guess I thought he might try something, I was waiting, if not ready, I didn't have any feelings for him really, he was good looking, handsome, tall and dark, nice even, open, and honest, but he did nothing for me, yet, when he stopped, and pulled me into a dark corner at the back of the station, I let him. When he stepped closer, I didn't move away, when he touched me I let him, when he kissed me, I opened my lips, and touched his tongue with my own.
He felt so clumsy, so hard and awkward after Laila, so lumpen, so dumb.
Then, yet, when I felt his penis pressing into me, I felt myself moisten. His penis had stiffened as we kissed. It felt natural to reach down and touch it. I heard him gasp. He might have stopped, I don't know, he didn't seem so experienced, I felt his hands move to my breasts, slide under my jacket, into my shirt and onto my bra, then under, finding my bare skin, my tits, my nipples. I felt them stiffen, I felt myself, my vagina, getting more and more damp. I was in control. I didn't know what I wanted, to distract myself? To demean myself? I had his swelling penis beneath my fingers, gliding over the length of it, touching his soft, swelling tip, squeezing his hard stem. Did I have anything to lose? I'd lost the ability to judge, to care. So I undid his trousers and reached in, I unbuttoned, unzipped, and slid my hand into his underwear, and found it, I found his hot, hardening penis.
I didn't stop, I pushed his clothes open, pushed them down, not caring where we were, whether anyone might see me, see us, two Asians, the girl loosening the boy's clothes and letting his growing penis spring out into the cool night air. I looked at it, at Nasir's cock. It looked different to the one I was used to, not only darker, more so as we were outside at night, darker than I was used to, but, I felt another flutter of reluctant arousal. The tip of it was already showing. Nasir was circumcised. I stared at it, at his shining bulb, savouring this secret sight, so smooth, so thick, so perfectly oval. His cock seemed quite long, and so warm. I let my fingers slider softly along the length of it, barely touching. Was it bigger than Paul's, a little? Was it about the same size? Perhaps, by the slightest amount, thicker? My fingers were opened wider as I explored his pulsing hardness, thicker, god, about the same length, were all boys about the same? I held it, I let my fingers explore this new penis, I gripped his hot stem with more firmness, and stroked him, held Nasir's cock tight, felt it getting harder still, thicker, straightening, pulling my hand up, rising. I felt him lengthen, thicken, perhaps now the smallest amount longer than Paul as well, a centimeter, perhaps, perhaps about the same?
My body, god, my pussy was tingling again, sweet and slippery with arousal. I kissed Nasir, I let my lips open so gently, slid my tongue against his, and pushed my breasts into his hands, and held his cock tight, rubbing the soft skin covering his turgid stem. I had decided to give him a handjob, to kiss, to let him touch my breasts, maybe my ass, if he went there, nothing else, no more than that, I didn't want his fingers in me, I didn't want to fuck him, but, without deciding, without thinking, just, suddenly, wanting to, wanting to be dirty, to be daring, wanting to. I broke the kiss and looked down again, at Nasir's bare penis, sticking up from his thighs, surrounded by tight black curls, I held it, pulled my fingers up, so slow, so gentle, I wasn't used to, well, I wasn't used to penises, at all, but the one I was used to, Paul's, had foreskin, this didn't, did I need to be more careful? Without that soft layer of skin to slide over his smooth bulb?
This is my excuse, not that I believe in excuses, I didn't trust my hand skills, not in this situation, with a new penis. I wanted to. I looked at him, at it, and dropped to my knees. I held it, felt the tight crinkle of his scrotum against my fingers, pulled Nasir's penis down to my lips and took it in my mouth. From some way above me I heard him gasp as he felt my lips close over his taut bulb. He tasted different. Sweeter. Somehow. He smelled different, his skin, his thick nest of hair. I thought of him talking to his friends, to my friends. To people he knew, who knew me. Did I care what he might say? "She sucked me off. Yeah. Just, one minute we were kissing, then she, you know, took it out, the next second, before I knew what was happening, she'd dropped onto her knees and was giving me a blow job."
I was sucking his cock. Oh god. I was a dirty little cocksucker. On my knees in a public place, my pussy damp, my breasts tingling, one hand holding his tight balls, rolling them, rubbing them, the other gripping his hot stem, stroking as I bobbed my mouth over his firm, fat tip, as I slid my wet lips over the tender surface of his dark glans. I felt the paving stone digging into my knees, my eyes were open, I saw the orange sodium glare of the street lights bouncing off the concrete, and wind, a cold breeze, striking my cheek. I felt like a whore, I let myself feel like I was performing a service for him, the fantasy betrayed by the paradox of my pleasure, driving me to dream this, denying the reality. I wanted to push my hand into my jeans and touch myself as I felt Nasir's penis in my mouth.
Then there was groaning, louder gasps of sensation, I felt his fingers in my hair.
"Oh... oh Sali... oh... please..."
I pushed my mouth further down his cock, gripping his taut scrotum harder. I felt his penis lift and jump against my lips, stiffening, then my mouth filled with warm, salty liquid. He was coming, I had made him come. I sucked, pulled and squeezed with my lips, with my fingers, I savoured each tangy spurt of his unfamiliar cum, was he, hotter? More tingly? More salty? Thick though, fuck, there seemed so much of it, warm, pulsing into my mouth, his hands on my head, his fingers in my hair, this boy's semen hitting my tongue, darting onto my palate, quick moist arrows of spunk.
I went out again the next night, the night after that. Was I looking for him? For other boys? Other penises to stroke, to make hard, to take into my mouth? What was I turning into? I sat next to them in lectures, boys I'd known to speak to, never given a first thought to, let alone a second, and suddenly I imagined spreading my legs for them and insisting we fuck before I changed my mind, before my mind changed. Or, was this what I wanted? To find Nasir, someone like him, another him, any him, someone to strip, to undress for, they invaded my head at night as I fought to deny Laila any presence, watching their stiff penises rise, turning naked and offering my naked ass to them, to him, feeling Nasir's hands, his fingers, his tongue, stroking my tight little asshole, moistening me, do it, put it in, oh god, fuck me, please, fuck my arse, push your hard cock inside my bum.
I am finally rescued, sort of, by my old school friend Yasmin.
We spoke on the phone every couple of weeks or so, even wrote to each other once a term or so, she called and said there was a spring ball on her campus, did I want to come down and go with her. I didn't want to, not really, she was better in those sorts of social situations than I was, I needed to get away though, out of the house, away from Laila's presence.
I packed the one dress I owned that might have passed as an evening gown, and took the train down to her college.
Yasmin was reading English Lit. and was living student life to the full. She met me from the train, we walked back to her halls, she insisted we start with a glass of wine whilst we changed to get ready. We drank. This is a rarity for me at any point. I had about two sips, which made me giddy, before showering in her shared bathroom. There were cubicles, it wasn't open plan, but the feeling of being nude in semi-public, particularly when I heard another girl coming in whilst I was undressed, was, not that I needed it, something of a turn-on.
Yasmin had a shower whilst I changed into my dress. She came back wrapped in a towel. I stared. I mean, I looked as she let it drop, facing away from me, but standing, naked, as she finished drying, as she reached into a drawer for a pair of knickers and a bra. Oh god. I saw my old school friend nude. Her ass. God. How had I never noticed, she had such a good body, such a smooth, full, round ass. Her waist was slim, her hips womanly wide, her legs. God. She bent slightly. Could I? Was I trying to see? The shadowy mound between her legs? The dark folds of her sex?
She straightened as she covered herself, still facing away as she clipped a bra around herself and twisted it back to cup and cover her full breasts. I almost managed to look away when she spun around and faced me, reaching into her wardrobe for her gown.
"Sali, were you checking out my arse?"
"What? Silly girl. Course not."
"Hmm, lesbian."
Ha, if only she knew.
She poured more wine and out music on, I asked what it was.
"Um, white."
"What?"
"White wine, uh, Chardonnay, by the looks of it, though for £2.99 I'm not sure the grape varietal means much."
"Not the wine, foolish girl, who are we listening to?"
"Oh, Nick Cave, and the Bad Seeds. I can't stop playing them. You like?"
"Mmm, sounds more like some end of the night music, rather than the beginning."
"Oh, you want something upbeat, why didn't you say?"
