It’s a story about me and her. Back in 2004.
It’s the time when I was in college, young, athletic, mean and strong. When I knew it all, I used do all things that I want to do in this world. And then there was her, awfully cute like a baby doll, like a little angle in the face of the earth. She was the daughter of my mom’s friend, Anita aunty, actually a junior of my mom in her college days.
They were good friends, my mom and Anita aunty; there was always a talk of marriage between me and her daughter, really lame, as I always thought. I always hated her, puffy cheeks, baby face; plump her, spoilt brat, always used to find a way to irritate me. I was 22 then, she was hardly 17.
Anita aunty and her husband Nilesh uncle use to visit us quite often, with her of course, their beloved daughter, their only child. Almost everyone was so fond of her, mom, dad, all. Mostly all, except me. I always looked at her as an extremely spoilt brat of rich parents. Airhead, always jumps around, stupid and dreamy and most of all irritating. Just like typical teenage girls.
As her school was on the way to my college, often I had to bear the request of picking her up from her place and drop her at the school. Sometimes I had picked her up from the school to home as well. I always hated that and she always enjoyed it.
It was the month of December. As my mom and Anita aunt, both were big time fans of temple and puja, always use to go around the state and sometimes even the whole nation to attend all the religious functions; they were to leave for a place around 300 km away. They did not want to take her as she was too much trouble. They punished me, for nothing. They left her in my house with me as a nanny. Whole day, she made my life hell. In every two minutes she wanted chocolate or ice cream, every 2nd hour demanding to take her for a movie, jumping around in the whole house, speaking loud in her mobile with her useless friends.
Somehow the whole day past. It was evening then. It started raining, heavily. Well I don’t know what the connection between girls, rains and thunders are. Every time it rains they run to dance in it and every time it thunders they run back. That was pretty much happening, on the first floor, in the balcony of my room. I was working on my laptop and watching her and cursing myself, her and the rain.
And then I looked at her, for a long time. She never used to dress properly. That day also, she was a wearing a white pajama and a thin light yellow top and I kind of knew that she didn’t wear anything under them. Then it happened. Guess a thunder bolt hit some tree nearby, and I heard the loudest cracking sound of my life. I ran towards the balcony and she ran straight at me. We almost collided to each other and her soft body sank into mine. She started crying instantly. I was scared if she was hit by the thunder or something, so I hold her and took a long look at her. Her clothes were not able to hide even one part of her body. Her breasts were firm and nipples were stiff, her naval so deep and as it went down further, her womanhood wasn’t really covered in those white, wet and soaked pajamas. I carried her in my arms to the bathroom, she was crying and shivering, after all it was a rainy December evening. I removed all her clothes and dried her up with a towel. I was seeing her since her childhood but never noticed how much she had changed, or should I say how much her body was changed. I carried her back to the room and gave her a shorts and t-shirt of mine. She was still crying, I tossed her on my bed.
And then the power was gone. The room was dark except the little light of the laptop screen. I shouted at her not go again and play in the rain and sat in front of my laptop. In reality, I wasn’t able to forget the way she looked in the bathroom without anything on her.
After a while, she got up from the bed, walked to me and jumped onto my lap. Wrapping her arms around my neck and hiding her face in my chest, she declared in a crying voice that the bed is too dark and the thunderstorms were really making her scared. I didn’t answer her, pretended to be busy in my work, or was I?
It was hardly 5 minutes and our lips were locked to each other. That was probably the longest kiss of my life, it was like forever. My hands were all over her, rubbing, pressing and caressing each and every part of her. Every bulge of her body was going through the intensive inspections of my fingers, again and again. I pulled off the t-shirt and the shorts, and she was sitting on my lap, just the same way I saw her in the hospital, the day she born. I slowly pushed my hands between her thighs and twitched, squeezed and explored her womanhood. I could see the shameful and painful expressions in her face and somehow I was enjoying a cruel, sadistic happiness. I did that till she begged me to stop. Then I lifted her and threw her in the bed and started kissing and biting every inch of her body. She felt like a soft stuffed toy with whom I wanted to play for ages. Her sweet moans and pleads were driving me mad. I was on top of her and it seemed both of our bodies were burning. Burning in passion and ecstasy.
I was around her, surround her and inside her. She bit my shoulder so hard, so hard that I felt that my shoulder was bleeding. Probably that was her last resort to suppress her scream. I was riding in her, slowly at first and then faster and harder. She was almost senseless; her teeth were clinching onto my shoulder. It was painful, but I knew it was nothing compared to what she was going through. Her cute face was full of sweats and tears, eyes were closed so firmly.
The time lost its counts. After a long while, I slid down from top of her, it was a sense of emptiness, pureness. She rolled on top of me. She was crying and asking me if I love her the way she does.
I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know…… what to do!!