Rashi Taes the Bus Home

"It's just for the weekend, dear," Ma gushed, tucking the bed sheet in. "I'd have given him the futon, but he won't fit in it. Such a big, strapping lad."

I stuffed the pillow in its case, punching the bag of cotton in annoyance. "It's fine, Ma. I'm okay to sleep here."

The here being the room on the terrace. Because my old bed had been given to the asshole I came home with. Because he was too large to sleep on this little pull-out. So, I was delegated to the vacant servant's quarter on the roof. It was a tiny room, with just enough space for the single futon and a small table. I didn't mind actually. The terrace was away from all the people and commotion downstairs, it was private, and the left side had a great view of the train tracks. And the bonus? It had a minuscule attached bathroom, which is where I had showered, so I didn't need to use the common one on the 1st floor.

"You won't be scared?" Ma asked me with a little frown.

"I won't be," I assured her.

I would be. I was scared of the dark. Well not the dark technically, but of the unearthly things that go bump in the dark. I always needed a nightlight. In fact, I slept with my Ma well into my late teens because I was scared to sleep alone. I had gotten over that as I grew older. Somewhat. Kinda.

"Take the nightlight from your old room. And call me if you get scared. I'll come sleep with you." Ma pinched my chin gently, tilting it up to kiss my forehead.

"Thanks, Ma." I grabbed her and gave her a tight hug.

Though, I decided, I'll sleep without the nightlight, because I was not going into my room while Jivan was occupying it.

"Okay, come down quickly. Dad will be upset if you are late." Ma patted my head before leaving.

I didn't want to go down. I wanted to nap. For at least a few days. Desperately. My body ached in places like it never had. The hectic workweek, a severely uncomfortable bus ride, and an intense night of vigorous fucking had me completely run down. Yawning, I changed into a calf-length, wrap-around skirt, a short kurti, and trudged downstairs. I was supposed to look up my period calendar app but couldn't in front of Ma. I made a mental note to check it later, crossing my fingers, and praying I was in my safe days.

The verandah was crowded with people. A small section in the middle had been cordoned off for the pundits and the consecrated fire. I wanted to hide all the way in the back, but Dad frowned at me, and I huffed, making my way to where Pavit sat on the left side of the trellis. The minute I'd reached home, Dad had given me dressing down--for not booking the tickets on time, for troubling Jivan to book it, for not coming home for weeks, for not settling down with their choice of a man, for living loose and fancy-free in the city--so, I did not want another lecture on being anti-social.

Sitting down cross-legged on the mat, I was relieved his mammoth friend was not with him. I hadn't seen Jivan since Ma took him to my old room. Which was just fine with me. I wanted to see nothing of him for the rest of this weekend, if I could help it.

"Not here," Pavit hissed. "Jivan will sit there. You get here." He nodded to his other side, next to the lattice wall.

I muttered under my breath. Typical and not surprising. Pavit probably wiped Jivan's nose when it ran. I flounced down next to the wall, looking around the spot, relieved that the huge potted Ficus behind me ensured it wouldn't be crowded. As the priests lit the fire, people took their places.

I hadn't been able to decide how to be around Jivan after what he did to me. My thoughts and emotions were still untangling that mess. It seemed a little unbelievable. I wasn't someone men pursued so wildly for sex. My cheeks heat up, remembering how forceful he had been, overwhelming me to the point of tears. Demanding, taking, plundering. I hurt all over. The scrapes from his stubble and the bite he gave my neck had stung like hell when I bathed today. Every movement reminded me of some intense detail--my hands trapped and held down, his thick cock repeatedly ramming into me, working my clit till I was mindlessly begging, forcing me to suck his cock. Not to mention his taunts and threats.

~ Asshole... sex might have been great, but he was brute... a hooligan... keeping me, it seems... I'm not some fucking object that he can keep...

A dark shadow angled over me, and I looked up. Jivan, wearing a dark green kurta and black jeans, folded himself just behind me, his knees bracketing my hips. I scooted forward, shooting him an angry-questioning look. It wasn't fair how hot he looked, all freshly showered and hair slicked back, the morning light catching his milk chocolate brown eyes.

"Oye, sit here." Pavit craned his head, patting the spot next to him.

"I'll block everyone's view in the back," Jivan said, leaning forward, his voice low and rumbly.

"Oh, right," Pavit nodded, then turning to me, he looked me up and down and at the distance between me and Jivan. "Move forward, Rashi, give him space."

~ Space! This jerk always needed so much space.

"Should I hang myself on the wall? Would that be enough space for your King Kong friend?" I asked, smiling sweetly.

Pavit's face scrunched up; he jabbed me with his elbow. "Watch your mouth, Rashi! He's a guest, accommodate him. Now, move forward."

"It's okay, I'll adjust." Jivan rubbed Pavit's shoulder, soothing him.

~ Wow... are these two dating?

I brought my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, hunching to make whatever space I could for the ogre behind me. Even sitting down, he towered over me, and I felt inconsequential and small.

The prayers commenced, and as the pundits droned on and on with their chanting, my eyes drooped. I pinched my arm, forcing myself to stay awake. Last thing I wanted was for Dad or Pavit to catch me nodding away. I struggled, but my eyes kept sliding shut.

A large, warm hand slipped over my waist, into the little nook between my belly and bent leg. I jerked at the contact and immediately hunkered down. I side-eyed-glared at Jivan, my brows pinched in a 'what the fuck do you think you are doing, you asshole?'.

Jivan stared straight ahead, ignoring me. I fidgeted, trying to dislodge his hand. He leaned in slightly, amber and musk wafting over me. His hand settled over my rounded belly, long tapered fingers moving over the fabric. Heat engulfed me, catapulting me back in time to last night, slamming me on the berth in the bus, on my tummy, being smothered by a very large, very heavy Jivan, whose hand cupped my pussy, fingers holding my little clit their prisoner, as he fucked me with his relentless cock. My pussy warmed at the memory. I shivered. I tried to look over my shoulder to glare at him again.

"Stop fidgeting, Rashi. Can you sit still? God!" Pavit whispered, his eyes shooting daggers at me before looking forward again.

I froze.

Jivan's hand slid up and cupped the underside of my left boob. I sucked in a quick breath. With my arms up, no one should be able to see, but I was deathly scared. We were flanked by the wall, and the plant covered our backs. Still, it was stupid of him to risk it. I tried to be as motionless as possible, forcing myself to take only shallow breaths. It wasn't lost on me that instead of raising hell, I was worried about being caught being groped.

Jivan squeezed my breast, very gently, his fingertips barely brushing. My heartbeat sped up. Even through the layers of cotton and padded bra, my nipple perked up at the slight pressure. Did nothing on my body care that he was an asshole?

The pundits ladled things into the fire, ghee and herbs, smoke puffed up and coughs scattered around the room. I coughed as well, or pretended to, using the movement to grab at Jivan's hand and push it away. He dug his fingers into my softness, abruptly pulling me back into him. I quickly I let go of his hand. My heart skipped a beat as memories of being powerless under him returned.

Jivan's hand relaxed, just holding my tit, his fingers lightly brushed the apex of my curve from time to time. I couldn't relax; my muscles grew taut. I darted a glance at my brother's profile. I did not want another scolding. Pavit would probably blame me, for having boobs or making it so easy for Jivan to get to them and scream at me for bringing shame to the family.

I sat through the function, heart thudding, scared of how Pavit would react if he found out. Jivan had no such fear. He had no fear last night either. Not of being caught, or humiliated. If he wanted to fuck me in a public bus, he did. If he wanted to grab my boob in a crowded room, he did. And I just let him. I bit my lip, my self-loathing trudging in.

The heat from Jivan's very warm palm seeped through the layers of material and sank into my flesh. I forced myself to stay rigid and not slump into him. The need to lean back and have him hold me grew dangerously. It was nonsensical, I knew that. He didn't want to hold me. He wanted to make me feel miserable. I forcefully reminded myself that he had not bothered to use a condom with me, hadn't cared that he could have gotten me pregnant. I wadded through my thoughts, trying to figure him out. He ignored me all those years ago, made fun of me at every chance, made me feel stupid and unworthy. And now he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

~ Stop flattering yourself... he just touched you last night and your legs sprang open... he knows you are easy...

The cadence of the chanting escalated, the crowd joining in. I mumbled under my breath; I could never remember the words of the prayer. The ritual ended, and the minute Jivan's hand dropped I jumped up, escaping into the throng of guests. Ma found me in the kitchen and put me to work. Food was catered, but still there was a ton to do.

A bark of laughter brought my head up. Pavit and Jivan surrounded by their group of friends. And a gaggle of girls. All vying for the guy's attention. Lashes fluttering, glossy lips giggling. I snorted, annoyed at their antics but unable to look away. Jivan, head tilted to the side, a lopsided smile that brought out the dimple in his cheek, looked down at two very pretty girls. The rapt attention on Janvi and Shweta's faces as he spoke to them shot a pang of uncomfortable longing through me. I had been one of them years ago, hanging on to his every word, dying for one of his soft, sexy smiles. Of course, back then, he barely glanced in my direction, and his smiles were loaded with mockery.

I violently stacked the paper napkins into small towers, telling myself that with so many chicks to snag his attention Jivan would thankfully leave me alone.

"Go on, join them." Ma nudged me, nodding encouragingly.

"Uh... no Ma. I'm helping you." I made another tower of napkins.

"Caterers will manage. Go on, they are going for a bike ride to the lake. I told Pavit to take you." Ma informed me.

"What... noo, Ma. Why did you do that?" I groaned.

She knew Pavit never included me with his friends. He used when we were kids. But then as teenagers, he grew embarrassed when his friends complained him dragging his pudgy little sister with him everywhere. Sometimes, he would dump me with his buddy, Subro, the nicest of his friends. Subro didn't mind indulging me because he had three younger sisters of his own.

"You love bike rides, dear," Ma said matter-of-factly.

~ Yes, but I don't like hearing how I'm so fat that it throws off the bike's balance when they take turns.

I couldn't tell her that. "I... outgrew it," I tell her instead, yawning widely.

The lunch wound down, and Pavit came over, helmet in hand. My stupid heart did an expectant little skip.

"Uhh Rashi... the group is all even... you know, couples only. I could ask Subro, but he's... " Pavit trailed off, looking at where Subro stood, chatting up Rini. "You can ride the scooty, if you want." Pavit at least had the grace to look uncomfortable. The jerk.

"You mean I can ride by myself on that old TVS scooter, trailing behind your Honda?" I smiled excitedly.

"Uhh... yeah. If you want to, sure." Pavit shrugged.

I kept the smile on. "That sounds like too much fun for me, I'll pass."

"What's the hold up?" Jivan sauntered over, his fan club trailing behind him.

"Ma said to take Rashi, but now she doesn't want to go." Pavit shook his head, putting his helmet on.

My fake smiled slipped, stung at how he worded it. "Not on that scooty, I don't," I declared, hotly.

"She can ride with me." Jivan's offer was met with a range of responses.

Dumbfounded, that was me.

Confused, that was Pavit. "Bro, you don't have a pillion seat," he pointed out.

Alarmed, were Janvi and Shweta. "But you said you couldn't take us," they whined in unison.

For a split second a weak ray of hope flickered in me. Jivan looked at me, grinning widely. That should have clued me in. "She can ride up front."

The groupies burst into peals of laughter.

Pavit guffawed, slapping Jivan's shoulder. "What, bro."

I glared at Jivan. "I hope a big swarm of bugs fly into your mouth on the ride!" I strode away, trying hard to ignore his deep chuckle.

"They won't if you come sit up front of me."

~ Grrr

I told Ma I was too tired to go. I really was. I felt like I would collapse any moment. I skirted the gang gearing up for the ride, the sounds of engines revving churned my agitated thoughts into a frenzy. I stomped up the stairs but halted at the first floor landing, eyeing the door to my old bedroom. This was the perfect time to get the nightlight while Jivan was out.

Closing the door behind me, I surveyed my old room. It was now dad's home office. Except for my bed and the cupboard, nothing of mine existed. I sighed, running my fingers over the carvings in the wooden bedpost, nostalgia hitting me hard. I spotted Jivan's duffle bag sitting to the side of the cupboard and kicked it a couple of times. My mood improved marginally.

I sat on the bed, bouncing a bit, the mattress felt so much better than the lumpy futon. I flopped down on my back, wondering if Jivan had taken a nap here. I crawled up to the pillows, inhaling them hesitantly. I caught a nose-full of warm amber and buried my face in the pillow. I told myself I was being a lunatic, snorting Jivan's scent like a cokehead. I couldn't deny he smelled sexy, addictive.

I don't recall falling asleep. Just that the bed felt familiar and so comfortable, the pillow smelled so good. I closed my eyes, for only a few seconds.

I dreamt of sex. Of passionate kisses and deep groans. Of a warm, wet tongue, teeth nipping my skin. The sharp bite felt almost real. I slowly blinked awake, wading through the molasses of reluctant consciousness. Sleep clutched at my eyelids, dragging them down. A soft kiss soothed the sting of the bite. Through the curtain of my lashes, I made out the hulking frame of Jivan. Between my legs, his lips trailing over my thigh.

"Grgh... what... what are you doing?" I mumbled groggily.

"Your skin is the softest... right here," Jivan answered, kissing the inside of my thigh. He rubbed his mouth over the spot, his stubble scratching. "Like velvet, but softer."

My wrap-around skirt must have parted open as I slept, baring my shapely legs. Jivan lay propped up on his elbow, his torso across my right thigh, effectively holding me down. My kurti was bunched under my tits. His left hand splayed across my bare tummy, so large it spanned the entire width of my midriff. His right hand rubbed my round hip. The contrast between our skin tones was stark--Jivan's, fair and pale, against my dark, dusky tan. He traced the scalloped edge of my panties with his finger, bending down to kiss the little bow stitched to the front of the purple lace.

I told myself to move, to get up. My body, weighed down not just by Jivan's bulk, but the intoxicating embrace of slumber, stirred sluggishly. My bones ached to their marrow. I don't know for how long I napped, but it felt too short. My self-preservation though, had roused valiantly, urgently whispering that I lay half bare to Jivan's wicked gaze in all my plump glory. It took the entirety of my strength to push myself up on my elbows.

Jivan flattened me back down with the hand on my sternum. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm done," he murmured against my mound; his breath warmed the little vee between my thighs.

"D-Done with what?" I asked like a simpleton. I really was woozy.

"Tasting you." With that, he licked me right over my panties, his tongue pushing the lace into my slit.

I moaned. My hips flexing weakly. I couldn't help it. Having a man's head between my legs, receiving pleasure from his mouth was a rare novelty for me. Boyfriends insisted, demanded blow jobs, but refused to return the favor. Their excuses wounding and plentiful.

Jivan wiggled his tongue in the crevice of my sex, causing the most delicious friction of fabric against my rapidly dampening pussy. I squirmed, succumbing to the titillation, to the inconceivable chance of Jivan--who had never been nice to me, but could rail me into multiple orgasms--wanting to taste me. The part of me currently under him, grew greedy and willing, nerve endings sparking up in anticipation. The part on the pillow, though addled with exhaustion and sleep, rejected it outright.

~ For a few minutes of pleasure... how can you forget... this giant prick force fucked you... are you that easy...

Was I? I couldn't unjumble my thoughts. My pussy delighted in his tongue as he laved it, juices flooding and soaking my undies. Jivan pressed his open mouth against my crotch, wetting the gusset from the outside. His finger had breached the lace edge, gently rubbing the outer fold of my pussy. I gasped, grabbing his hand.

"Shh, little squirt... let me." He ran the tip of his tongue in the crease that joined my pelvis to my thigh. "Fuck... I was wrong," he kissed the groove, "you are the softest here. So damn soft."

I writhed, torn between trying to get closer to his tongue and to get away from his mouth. I loved his compliment; I craved the pleasure he offered. I recklessly ignored my head reminding me of his meanness, his unkind taunts. Fat and desperate, the words echoed futilely.

"J-Jivan... wait..." my voice rasped thickly. "I-I.. I'm--"

"You are tired... just nap," he growled, the hand on my tummy, rubbed in circles, as if soothing me back to sleep. "I'll keep your little pussy company."

~ Does he really think... I'll be able to sleep with his head--

He pulled the gusset to the side, baring me to his gaze. I froze. Breath trapped in my throat; my hands gripped the forearm draped across me.

"Hey, pretty baby," Jivan cooed. "Look at you, so damn eager and wet for me." He swiped his thumb over my labia, splitting the lips open. I moaned, breaking in a gasp as his thumb circled my entrance a few times before slipping in. He licked the hood of my clit.

"Ohhrrgghh..." I groaned, my hips jerking off the bed, slamming my pelvis into his face.

Jivan grunted, then chuckled, pressing me back down. "So fucking needy."

He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking it in as his thumb delved deeper inside, rubbing circles on my inner walls.

I melted. Shamefully and wantonly. Head flung back; my legs dropped open. I moaned repeatedly, my pussy squeezed his thumb, trapping him, pulling him in. After being treated so harshly the night before, my lady bits loved his generous mouth.

Jivan shifted, forcing my leg over his shoulder as he settled more fully on top of me. He alternated flicking my clit and sucking on it, his thumb buried to the knuckle. "Fucking gods... I can't believe this tight little thing took all of me." He sounded as if in awe. His deep voice vibrated against my core. My pussy gushed, oozing like an overripe fruit.

I lifted my ass off the bed, silently begging him to take me with his lips again. Insecurities, reason and anger, all forgotten under his beautiful mouth.