Growing up

(This story contains sexually explicit contents and something that might be considered as social taboo. Please do not read if you don’t like such contents or if you’re underage)

thigh

 

Girls grow up pretty fast. They just do. It’s a matter of few days, a sweet plump teenage girl all of a sudden become a head turner, out of nowhere.

I was leaning on the wall of my terrace, I could see Mimi was there in her terrace to fetch the dry clothes. It was the month of May, a stormy month. I guess she saw the cloudy sky and windy afternoon as soon as she got up from her afternoon nap. Her eyes were still sleepy and her face was puffy, I guess she was alone at her place else her mom or maid would have been up on the terrace picking the dry clothes in hurry. My terrace is close to hers, just a distance of a short jump.

I went back in time while idly gazing at her. I still remember the day she was born, I was around 12 then. My mom told me our new neighbor who moved in last year got a kid, that the neighbor aunt delivered a baby girl today morning.

I went to see it, the baby, with my family. I saw a small piece of flesh with eyes, nose and ears. I wondered if it’s really even a human being, like one of us, I saw babies earlier but not this small.

Time passed by, that new born turned 2 in no time. It started to crawl around, treating my study table as her personal toilet, wetting my books, shitting on my table and tearing my notes. I wondered how to deal with it.

And the time went by, she turned 7, an irritating, nagging, running nose kid always clinging to me, demanding to take her to ice cream parlor and getting her chocolates. I cursed her, I cursed myself, I cursed the universe.

She stepped into her teens, she was 13 maybe. She was playing in a corner of my house when she came running to me, crying. There was a stream of blood flowing out, dripping off from her slender fair legs, her skirt was covering till her knee. I was the first man witnessing her in her first period. I called her mom and asked her to take care of her.

She was entering into her 16 when everything about her started to change. She was becoming moody, rebellious, unreasonable and beautiful. Once I saw her standing in the corner of the lane with her bicycle, she was in her school uniform, talking to a guy, perhaps from another school. They were talking, giggling and she was looking so happy. They saw me, I looked at her and then walked away.

That night I heard her fighting with her mom, screaming and shouting, I wondered what it might be. Next morning she was on my doorstep, with moist red eyes, accusing me of spying on her, telling on her. I tried to reason with her, that I never said a word. She didn’t listen to me and ran away cursing me that I shouldn’t find love, I don’t deserve that.

We started to grow apart, maybe she knew I never told on her, maybe she didn’t. She walked passed her 17th birthday. The little girl turned into a cute young lady in no time, I felt I witnessed a metamorphosis, from a caterpillar to a butterfly.

And then something brought me into the present. The sky was till cloudy, the wind was blowing hard now. I saw Mimi tripped, while trying to balance her as she had all dry clothes in her hands, on her shoulder. She fell down on the terrace, the hard uneven concrete surface peeled the skin of her knees and legs, the dry clothes were scattered, few were flown away, few were swarming on the terrace with the wind.

I couldn’t help but jumped to her terrace, held her and picked her up. She looked distraught, maybe because of the pain, maybe cause she couldn’t stop those clothes to fly away, maybe she just felt ashamed that she tripped right in front me in that fashion.

I pulled her up, maybe she was hurt but could walk, maybe she couldn’t. But I picked her like a cute doll in my arms, walked down from the terrace.

Her both knees were bleeding, so was her ankles. I took her to bathroom, cleaned her up and put her onto the sofa. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, not that I cared much. I was looking for Neosporin powder and some cottons, she showed me.

I held her legs and starched towards me, as she was sitting in the sofa she kept her legs on my thighs. I sprayed the powder and rolled the bandages around them and then I looked at her.

Her skirt was above the knee, her fair and smooth thighs were glowing with water drops on them, where the thighs met each other, I could see a blue triangle. She was wearing a blue undergarment, nothing fancy, actually a normal one that covered her womanhood.

I got up and told her to go lay down in bed. She looked at me and said she won’t be able to walk till the bedroom. And I picked her up again in my arms, for the second time.

As I placed her in her bed, her bosoms were occasionally brushing against my shoulder. I was holding her too close to me, I could see right into her eyes, It was questioning me, it was questioning herself. Our lips met for a fraction of second and parted.

I pushed myself back and walked out of her bedroom, walked passed the hall to the main door. And then like a possessed man walked straight back to her. She was lying down there already, she was surprised seeing me back. We broke into a long kiss and then it felt so normal as we got rid of our clothes.

Her breasts were small, tender and fair, nipples were yet to change to dark brown but they were pink, small and perky. As I looked down, I saw her navel, not so deep, not so shallow, I caressed it. As I ventured into her most forbidden part, she blushed, pushed me aside and closed her thighs. Guess that’s always instinctive for females.

As she parted her legs after few strokes of hand, I went down on her, to eat her, to bite her, to make her moan and scream. She pulled me up, held her in arms, her eyes pleaded me to pierce her, to stab her, to go deep inside her.

She was soft, she was tight, she was warm, and she was a virgin. She was in pain but she was willing, her clenched jaw, closed eyes and sweaty forehead were telling her painful yet pleasurable happenstance.

I felt like a ragging mad bull, I looked at her. The girl I saw her in the first day of her life, the girl who crawled around me, the girl who played on my lap and the girl I saw in her first day of mensuration, I closed my eyes and I can hear her giggling back in time. I was thrusting myself into her as hard as I could, and I could recall every day I saw her growing up in front of me. I should feel guilty, I should have felt shamed. All I felt was her, and only her.

I stayed lying there, I could see her sleeping. Her face is carrying the impression of pain and ache, the bandages have come off and there’s blood on the bedsheet, some from her old wound, some from her fresh one. I kissed her forehead when I heard Mimi’s mom calling her name from the main gate. I looked her, and asked myself “should I leave or should I stay?”

 

 

 

 

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