My Story

That afternoon at Sanchari’s home brought in a sea change in me.

I never thought I will go through the experience of having a sexual relation with another person so soon.

I was, until then, more than anything else, a shy, obedient introvert girl in school whose entire world was her parents, school and friends. I had a male friend who lived next door, studied in boys section of our school, same grade and had taken his school leaving examinations with me but he was more a friend with whom I grew up and went to school every day, someone who wore shorts and then trousers in public while I wore skirts and then sari, whose hair was short while mine long and growing, who grew hair on his face while I didn’t, whose hands were becoming hard and harsh while my body went on becoming softer day by day than anything else.

I had no sexual dreams with him or rather, never thought of him as a sexual being at all nor thought he did – in short, though were we very close, I doubt if we ever treated each other as male female at all. That was just about all male connect outside home.

That experience of being nude while having a sexual relation with another girl, twice, in full view of three others made me more conscious and more open with myself than I was before.

I came back home in public transport with unknown folks, wearing a borrowed light green chiffon sari with matching blouse petticoat with open hair without underwear. My hair was still wet and had possibly made my blouse at the back wet. Though my breasts were small but growing, I could simultaneously feel the fear as well as the freedom of wearing no bra or panty in public for the first time. I was conscious and bit scared that everyone around might be knowing about my being without a bra in a semi wet blouse covered by my hair or that my panties were missing but somehow I also had a feeling of freedom, of a “I don’t give a damn, who cares, let them know and see” ringing through my mind continuously.

I learned to enjoy my nude body in private, staying fully nude even during my periods, just pushing a tampon inside, letting the string hang out of my puss and feel free (at least for some time before wearing an underwear) of any imposed barriers between the environment and me. Late nights, some days, I dared to step out on the verandah fully nude, staying in the dark or very dim light and shade portions. I started growing more and more careless and maybe wanted to actually have someone to see me nude, fully nude, in open air.

My home dress changed from loose jumpsuits with bra panty to off shoulders mid-thigh length to tie blouses with flowing pleated micro miniskirts without any underwear to stringed on shoulder full back open tops reaching knee length or higher just covering my vagina when I stood, esp. when ma(mother) was not home.

Meanwhile I grew.

My body started changing pretty late but was doing extra hours now to make up and I soon grew from 30A at 18 to 30B to 32C at the top and from 30 to 34 at the bottom. Thankfully my waist didn’t grow beyond 27 and I finally started getting my curves right as all my friends had already got long ago. I just had one problem, I had no one interested to see the changes at home and my going out was severely restricted by the examination preparations.

I ignored my hair removing cream completely and as a result, my vagina, legs and armpit started becoming hairy again. I had neither the time, nor the mood to bother – I was home anyway.

This carelessness grew in me day by day.

I just wore something in my room, didn’t matter what, at times stayed nude for 24 hours just moving into the washroom when someone knocked. As a rule set by my mother, room doors at home were never locked from inside and everyone knocked and asked for permission before entering.

Another change had come somewhere towards the middle of my exams.

Our 24 hour house help had gone to his village to attend to some emergency and had left his 24-25 year old nephew Ratan as a replacement. This boy was fair tall handsome looking but was also the definition of the word ‘bucolic’ and was totally out of sync with city life. As a result, Ma had to spend hours now keeping our home straight and this boy was at best good in cleaning / washing and doing all menial labour work while learning what to do at home. He was very slow in learning, slower in expressing and at that point of time more a burden than a help. As such, in a few days, I started to completely ignore his existence and be as I am, just caring to ensure he doesn’t see me fully nude and that’s about all that he existed for me. I was in a pair of camisole and panties once and not a thought crossed my mind while he dusted my room. I ignored his presence completely.

This was on the last day of my school leaving exams.

That afternoon, coming home, I asked him to make me a glass of fresh lime soda which I knew he can, went up to my room, set my bathtub to fill after adding salts, threw off my bag, threw out my clothes all over the floor and just dipped my body in the tub and fell asleep in a few minutes like there was no tomorrow.

I woke up I don’t know when, put on the shower to clean myself, noticed I had no towel inside the washroom and without giving it a thought, went out dripping nude as I have done so many times before, found the towel on the small stool besides my dressing table and started drying myself out, humming something with semi closed eyes. Drying over, I threw my hair on my back, threw the towel at a corner making a mental tick to send it back for washing and started looking for my hair dryer.

A glass rattling sound brought me back from my reverie to reality. I turned back without thinking and found myself in front of Ratan. He was standing there at the door, his hands holding a glass of liquid and a saucer and both his hands were shaking making that noise.

For a second, I got so mad that I lost my temper and without thinking A from B, I started screaming at him “Tui dorja khule dhukli ki bole? Awaj korte sekhano hoi ni? Darate paris ni ami khola obdhi? (How dare you open the door and enter my room? Weren’t you taught how to knock? Why couldn’t you wait outside till I opened the door?)”

I then suddenly realized two things simultaneously – I was dead nude with everything I was supposed to hide fully in his view and that he had also seen the rear view since who know when now but his eyes were no longer on me but at the floor towards my feet and he was shivering with fear trying to say something but couldn’t and all I could hear was a mumbling noise.

What I could decipher while throwing a wrap around my waist and a orna (unstitched cloth used by girls to cover their bosom, usually used over a kameez (Indian long shirt) so that the breasts do not become obvious) that were nearby on me was something like “Didi ami onekbar dorjay shobdo korechi kintu kono uttor paini tai ami bhablam tomar kono osubidhe hoyeche tai ami na bole dhuke porechi. Ami icche kore korini kichu. (Elder sister (**), I made noise on the door many times but got no reply. So I thought that you must be in some trouble and entered without asking. I have not done it on purpose).”

With these words, I was somewhat assured that being the rustic minded he is, in all probability he was telling the truth and I have possibly unnecessarily behaved badly with him. I knew I needed to soften up but didn’t know how to. I just walked up to him, took the glass and saucer from him, drank the lime juice drink and while returning the glass asked him to spread my lunch and told him that I will come down and eat.

I decided that I will talk with him during lunch and try to assuage the hurt I caused and hoped things will normalise.

After he left, something else suddenly struck me – Ratan is now the first man to see me fully nude.

And I didn’t mind that.

I got angry as he did not knock and enter. His viewing me nude was possibly more acceptable to me than that. While thinking, I realized how my mindset has changed, for better or worse, over the past few months.

I do not remember being so confused in my entire life. Wasn’t my modesty violated whether purposely or not? Wasn’t I supposed to be red mad?

Why am I, somewhere deep inside, feeling good about this accident?

Wait, does this make me stupid, enjoying my nudity in male view without a care?

Yes I know my future husband will make me nude but he is not my husband so how can I enjoy this accident?

Isn’t this something I am not supposed to do?

Was the right step forward now to be completely covered in general?

Or, since this has happened anyway, should I ignore it completely and be what I am?

In this utter confusion and standing right at the center of this dichotomy, I realised that I was hungry and was already on my way down the stairs to the dining table.

Hunger won the debate and I sat down. Feeling the cold seat on my bum, I felt that the wrap tied to my left waist had loosened and moved a lot while coming down / sitting and my left bum was now completely nude and the cloth was now hiding only my right bum. My pussy hair and left leg were again completely bare.

I felt extremely uneasy but knew that to rectify the situation, I would have to get up, open the knot and tie it up again and then sit carefully which would be very uncomfortable to do while Ratan was there standing to serve me. Then again, since my lower body were under the table, chances of his seeing my bare skin were remote and I decided to relax, sit comfortably and eat.

I started eating and tried to pick a fork from the center stand and missed – the fork flew out of my hand, barely missed Ratan and fell with a clang on the ground. Before I could say No, Ratan bent to the floor and picked it up, though by the time taken by him to raise himself back, I realised that I have shown my pussy and a leg, fully bare, again.

There is no way I could rectify that and somehow,though I knew it was wrong, I got carefree right then and decided I will NOT care anymore.

There was nothing more to care about or hide after what I did, twice. He was shifting uneasy and I decided to enjoy this and push it from then on. I sat exactly as I was sitting, half nude at the bottom and started to finish my food. My orna cover had in between moved a lot and although I knew, I didn’t care to set it straight and it precariously hung somewhere covering nothing much beyond my nipples and areolas and I could feel his eyes glaring at my open boobs in full view from the sides middle and bottom.

I knew he was waiting for a chance to see me nude again and I decided to fulfill his wish and see what happens. The shy girl in me had died somewhere in last 15 minutes and I was growing more brazen and more daring to venture into unknown charters. I also wanted to know what my boundaries were.

I finished my food and got up, both my wrap and orna hanging somehow on my body and walked to the basin to wash. The orna fell from my left boob and was supported only on my right shoulder and the wrap had somehow remained on the knot but could fall anytime. I pretended as if nothing had happened and went on being normal completing the post lunch mouthwash and then took the hand towel from him to wipe my face and hands. Handing the towel back, I noticed his eyes had grown and were fixed in the area between my boobs and open pussy and decided to begin what I had in mind.

I removed the orna completely, standing about 4 feet away right in front of him.

Remaining topless, I carefully adjusted the orna in folds taking as much time as was reasonably possible without appearing to be doing it purposely and then threw it over my shoulders and carelessly covered my boobs, again partially, sides and bottom fully open.

About 8 months back, that would have hidden everything but now, with C cups, well, nothing much was left hidden.

I carelessly then opened the knot of my wrap, took it off and ignoring his presence completely flipped it off my body, held it at two ends and flipped it a few times as if to straighten it up, my boobs now jiggling to give company to my actions and the orna shifting up completely off my boobs to hang at my neck. I turned my back towards him so that my full nude backside goes on display and pulled the wrap over my backside, brought the ends to the front and then tied the knot again, this time tightly at the exact center so that my mid-section, waist down with open puss becomes fully visible and turned around.

I knew from his eyes that he is ogling my boobs and puss and casually shifting my eyes to his pelvic region saw a big tent having formed in his shorts. I just smiled at him and started walking back to my room without bothering to cover.

Somewhere on the way to the staircase, I turned around and saw his eyes fixed on my bums. I called out and said “Tor nicher kaaj hoye gele ekbar opore asbi. Kaaj ache. Aar ebar dorjai shobdo kore dhukbi nahole kintu khub kharap hobe. (After you finish whatever you have to do, come upstairs. I have some work for you. This time, ensure that you knock before you enter else it will be very bad for you.)”

A devilish plan had started growing in my mind while I walked towards my room. I grinned and I told myself loudly, in English “You have become a full scale dirty teasing bitch overnight, Rani. Where was this side of you all these years?”

I first thought of again being fully nude when he came to my room and remain so in his presence and then decided not to.

I wanted to up the scale and thought of trying something more, be a real tease this time. I hunted my drawers for a red, transparent cup, hooks at back bra and wore that with a pair of the skimpiest low waist black panties I had, something a shade better than a g string just covering my slit at the front with hair growth fully visible. I put my orna on me at front covering my boobs fully and knotted it behind my back and similarly wore my wrap bundled at the waist, knotted at front center fully covering my panties keeping both legs fully open.

I left a pleated micro mini red black square design skirt and a pair of black panties on my dresser.

Having put my plan in action, I suddenly fell very tired again and lied on my bed to rest. In a few minutes, without any notice, my eyes closed and I fell asleep.

I woke up suddenly to a soft knock on the door growing louder with a voice calling “Didi, asbo? (Elder sister, may I come in?)” and keeping my eyes closed replied “Ai (Come in)”.

My back was towards him when he entered and he came and stood about two feet away from my bed. In the dressing table mirror, I could see him gulping down my body with his eyes particularly the red bra straps at my back which came out from under the orna and went over my shoulders. His pole was tenting his shorts and his hands were trying to cover it somehow.

I smiled to myself and said “Time” silently.

Without turning or opening my eyes fully, I told him “Shon, bhishon ga chorchor korche. Tui amar dressing table theke olive oil er shishita niye ai ar amake ektu tel malish kore de. (Listen, my skin is feeling very dry. Go and fetch the olive oil bottle from my dressing table and give me a oil rub)”.

He stood there, stupefied and didn’t move at all.

I raised my voice and said “Ki holo, katha kane gelo Na? Ja giye ja bollam tai kor. Ekkhuni. (Now what, you couldn’t hear what I said? Go and do what I have told you. NOW.)”

I saw him somehow slowly walking to the dressing table and pick the bottle of Oil of Olay lying there and asked “Ei ta?(This one?)”

My mind knotted one step further seeing the Oil of Olay pack and said “Na. Ekta teler shishi ache, seta. Kintu asar somoi otao anbi. (No, there is a bottle of oil, get that. And bring what you got also)”.

He finally found the Olive Oil bottle carried both walking very slowly towards me and I could see his eyes fixed on my boobs, as I expected and again stood about two feet away from the bed.

I asked him in a mock angry tone “Ki holo? Okhane dnariye thakle nije nijei tel makha hobe? Edike eshe shishitar theke tel niye amar haate malish korte shuru kor. (Now what? If you stand there, the oil will rub itself on me automatically? Come here, take the oil from the bottle and start rubbing it on my hands.)”and pushed my right hand out and signaled him to begin.

I don’t know how I stopped laughing out loud seeing what he did next.

He put one finger inside the oil bottle and rubbed that finger on my hand. Instead of laughing, I, again, in a mock angry tone, said out loud “Tui ki ebhabe nijer gaye tel makhis naki? Ekta kore angule niye? Uffffff. Ki gordhober pallia porechi ami. Tel dhal amar pithe ear sekhan theke niye du haate mekhe amar haat malish kor. (Do you oil your body like this? Taking oil on one finger? Ufffff what an idiot has come to do this job. Pour some oil on my back, take the oil from there and rub fully on your palms and then rub oil on my hand.)”

Very hesitatingly, he said “Tomar kapor nosto hoye jabe to tel lagle (Your clothes will get dirty if oil gets to them).”

Devil gripped my mind right then.

I stopped my reply for a second, as if thinking and then smiled at him and said “Bah thik bolechis to. Amar mathai asei ni eta. Ek Kaaj kor. Pechoner git ta khule de ar orna ta soriye de pith theke. Tarpor tel dhal pithe. Oh haan. Tor o to jama pant e tel lagbe. Tui amar ekta kichu niye pore ai. Tarpor shuru kor. (Excellent. You are right. I never thought about this. Do one thing. Open the knot and remove the orna from my back. Then pour oil on my back. Ohhh. Your t shirt and shorts will also get oily for nothing. Go and wear something of mine and then start.)”.

He got shocked as expected though I was not sure if it was due to the instruction from a girl to open her clothes or for the instruction to wear her clothes or both. He just put down his head and said, rather mumbled “Tumi git khule dao. (You open the knot please)”followed by, after a few seconds “Amar jama pant e tel lagle kichu hobe na. (It doesn’t matter if my shirt and pant catch oil.)”

I again showed mock anger and said “Tui erokom bhoot keno? Ami bolchi amar ornata khule nite, tate tor ki osubidhe?Ar tel lagle kichu hobe na? Na tumi meye tai tomar jama porbo na? Lojja korche? Akash bhenge porbe tui amar jama porle? Baje na boke ja bolchi tai kor. Oi to amar ekta skirt ar panty pore ache – ja giye ota pore eshe kaaj shuru kor. (Why are you such a dumbo? I asked you to remove my orna, so what is your issue in that? Doesn’t matter if your clothes get oily? Or is it that I am a girl so you are ashamed to wear my clothes? Will the sky fall on our head if you wear my clothes? Just shut up and do what I told you to do. Get those skirt and panty lying – go and wear them and start your work”).

His face in the mirror said that he simply could not decide what to do. I patiently waited to see what he does. Very reluctantly, grumbling, with extreme displeasure filling his face, he picked up my skirt and panty and left the room. Showing complete “I couldn’t care less” on my face, I started biting my nails, grinning subtly and waited patiently.

He came back, wearing my 12 inch micro mini skirt but like an idiot that he was, did not wear my panty and left it back from where he took it. He kept standing, bent a bit and opened my orna knot, and removed it softly from my back. I could see in the mirror that he was looking at my bra covered back and moving a bit here and there in utter disturbance, “Tumi na bhishon boko amake(You scold me a bit too much.)”

I didn’t need another glance at the skirt he was wearing to know why he was so disturbed. It was barely covering his penis in those 12 inches. The rod was now hard and making a huge tent, pushing the pleats up to reveal an extra inch or two at the bottom of the skirt and his balls were semi exposed. He was now trying to pull his skirt a few inches down and as a result his black pubic hair was in full view now. He didn’t know what was more important to hide from my view and my lying half nude in front of him was definitely not helping in any way. As I said earlier, the Devil got my mind at that point and I was really really enjoying putting him in this degree of discomfort.

I saw him take his hands towards the bottle of oil now, still standing and I got my chance to tease him further and said “Amar bra te tel lagle kono osubidhe nei, tai na?(It doesn’t make any difference if my bra gets oil stains, right?)” and looked at him questioningly. He got embarrassed like anything, his white face started growing a bit of a blush and said “Ami parbo na, tumi khule dao (I cannot open that, you do it.)”

To me now, this had already become an exciting mind game of getting him to do whatever I wanted and I had progressed too far in this to let him have his way now and agree to open my bra as he wanted. I got up from the bed, stood in front of him, held his hand, turned my back, put his hand on my bra strap and said “Khol. (Open)”. I felt his other hand slowly crawl up, hold two sides of my bra and try to pull it open. I felt a sharp pain on my boobs as the bra straps above and below my boobs started to dig deep in my skin and screamed “Ahhhhh lagche to.(Ah, it’s hurting me).”

He shifted out as if hit by a 1000Volt spark and said almost crying “Ki korbo? Ami jani naki khulte? Bollam to khule dao. (What do I do? How will I know how to open this? Requested you to open this thing.)”

I just said in a disinterested voice “Jani na to sekh. Abar chesta kor. Dekh hook ache ogulo ekta kore khol. (Don’t know fine, learn then. Try again. There are hooks. Open them one by one.)”

This time, he hunted for the hooks by pushing his fingers under the straps and roaming his fingers on my skin. I started getting goosebumps. This was the first male soft sexual touch in my life and I was getting excited and my boobs and nipples started getting tighter. I bit my lips, closed my eyes and enjoyed every second that passed. He finally located the hooks at the joint and opened the hooks one by one and stood aside. I turned towards him, allowing him full view of my boobs covered by two fully transparent red cups, then removed the bra with closed eyes and gave it to him and said “Ebar wrap ta khol.(Open the wrap now.)”

I could feel him hesitating again and pushed my hands out, found his shoulders and pushed him down a bit. He understood he will have to do this also, sat down and started fumbling with the knot, somehow opened it and removed the wrap and dropped it on the bed with my bra.

I think he expected me to be nude under the wrap and didn’t expect to see me wearing something that just covered my slit leaving everything else open. I allowed him full close view of my pussy and then said “Chol, tel makhiye de.(Start my oil massage now.)”

I turned my back to him, purposely jiggled my nude bums while walking slowly to my bed, turned face on pillow, closed my eyes and lied down. Felt some oil being poured on my back just above my waist after a few seconds and the devil played in my mind, again “Tui ek kaaj kor. Amar pa theke shuru kora r aste aste malish korte korte oprer dike oth. (Do one thing. Start with my legs and climb slowly upwards while massaging me.)”

Following instructions, I felt him take oil from my back on his hands and start with the fingers on my leg, massaging them softly. His touch was magic. Just magic. He travelled up slowly, using more and more oil and massaging every drop in my skin. My mother had hired a 40sh woman who came once a week to massage us since I started having periods but her massages, though good, were somewhat “have to so I am massaging” type. This boy was doing it with his heart working through his fingers and I never ever felt so relaxed in my life. He slowly picked up my leg, one by one, bent them at my knees and continued pushing the oil through every pore available and then softly pushing it further inside my skin, again and again.

He reached my thigh and though I expected him to hesitate, he didn’t. His hands rode up confidently up my thighs, stopping just below my bums and he did a thorough job of it.

Then, I found him hesitating as expected and keeping quiet. His fingers were touching my skin, just where the bum starts but not moving at all. I asked in a sleepy voice “Ki holo? Thamli keno? (What happened? Why did you stop?)”

He asked with hesitation “Haat debo, didi? (Should I touch your bum, elder sister?)”

I looked back into his eyes and asked “Dibi na keno bolchis? Amar haat amar pa amar pith, sob e to chere dilam tor haate, okhane haat dibi na keno tahole? Ami e to bolechi toke tel makhate? tai na.(Why do you think you should not? I left my hands, my legs my back in your hands, so what is the problem touching my bums? I only told you to oil massage me, right?)”

I turned my face, closed my eyes and lied again face down and felt his hands take oil from my back, pour some more and start massaging my bums, softly then slowly increasing pressure. With the way his fingers were trying to massage every muscle and go freely under my panty straps, the feeling of trust and subsequent enjoyment has finally become mutual and asked him, very softly “Panty ta khule ne.(Remove the panty.)”

He did not hesitate this time and pulled my panties down. I lifted my waist a bit and became fully nude, for the third time that day, in front of him. Only difference was that, first was an accident, second I did purposely in full control to tease him but this time I made him strip me, one garment after another and now left full control of my body in his hands. His touches somehow made me trust him, fully and told me that even if I stay fully nude, 24 hours with him, nothing will happen without my instructions and permission.

For the first time in my life, I learned to trust a man, completely, in those few seconds he removed my panties.

How weird is that for whatever I was taught from my childhood?

I felt him now cross over his legs across my body, sit on his knees and start massaging my back. To do this, a soft swish every time told me he was bending his full body on me without touching me anywhere at all. Just when he was finishing with my back, I felt a hard piece of flesh rub some liquid on my bum and he froze and got down from the bed immediately, squeaking “Aami icche kore korini. Tumi to jor kore amake ei chotto jinis ta porale. Ami sotti icche kore korini. (I didn’t do it on purpose. You forced me to wear this tiny skirt. I really didn’t do this on purpose.)”

I was not angry at all. I was rather excited that the first touch of a hard penis had happened, finally. I somehow forced a smile, trying to hide my excitement and said “Aami jani tui icche kore koris ni. Aami kichu mone korini. (I know you didn’t do that purposely. It’s ok, I did not mind.)”

I turned on bed and lied on my back and said “Ne, ebar bakita kor. (Now do the rest.)”

In an instant, I saw his eyes shine up looking at my pussy and boobs and my stomach. I didn’t mind, rather there was a feeling of All Good spreading in my mind. I just smiled at him when he moved his eyes and looked into mine and then closed my eyes and waited.

He started with my legs this time again, slowly massaging and removing every fatigue spreading a relaxed feeling in me again. This time, he confidently rode up my body kneeling on top of me and pushed the oil up my body into every pore, again. His hands came to my pussy, hesitated for a second then rubbed my pubic hair, carefully avoiding my pussy lips which by then had started secreting my juices little by little and then left the area going right up to my neck, avoiding my breasts completely.

Once he finished, I opened my eyes, looked directly into his eyes and asked “Bakita ke korbe? Kalo jaigata bad diye bakita malish kore de (Who will do the rest? Avoid the black region and massage the rest).

He softly asked “Tomar mai ar gude haat debo didi? (Should I touch your breasts and pussy, elder sister?)”

My ears burned.

I have never heard anyone use those two words, mai (boobs) and gud (pussy) so casually. In our society, not a single woman will use these so called dirty words but choose more socially acceptable synonyms and even men avoided using them if any woman was nearby, even while cursing.

I smiled at him when I felt that these words, from where he is coming, must be natural to him and not derogatory and said “Bollam je. (Told you to)”

He took some oil in his hands, kneeled across my thighs and started massaging my boobs together. His fingers this time were hard and harsh and told me he is enjoying pressing my breasts sexually more than massaging them just like any man enjoys mauling a woman’s boobs. It was hurting me but I loved it. Somewhere, I felt, I had now compensated him finally for screaming at him unnecessarily earlier. Thrice, I felt his penis touch my thighs and rub his sticky secretion on my skin but he either didn’t notice or didn’t bother in his excitement of mauling my breasts to his heart’s content.

Strangely, I didn’t feel his fingers even once on the region I prohibited and smiled.

Once he was fully content playing with/ massaging/ pressing/ mauling my boobs, I asked him to get the bottle of Oil of Olay, put it on my nipples and areolas and then to massage it on my pussy lips.

I knew I was asking for trouble but still went ahead.

A strange but known pinging started in my clit and spread across when he started rubbing my nipples and I realised, he is taking the liberty to press my breasts again. I didn’t care, I loved it and was on a ride to heaven after months and my pussy had already started getting wet and that was all I was bothered about. Leaving my boobs, he then turned around and kneeled across me over my boobs and started to softly rub Oil of Olay on my pussy lips.

My mind went topsy turvy. I couldn’t just control my pleasure and started moaning every time his fingers touched my clit and skin around and in my excitement, I opened my eyes and saw his hard penis and balls hanging out of my skirt that he was wearing. Something came on me, the Devil again perhaps, I couldn’t control myself after seeing the first male penis about 6 inches away, hard and dangling and put my hands out and held his penis in one and his balls in another and started massaging him back. He started screaming “Oh didi, korona korona, charo amake (Oh elder sister, don’t do this. Leave me alone)” but I was beyond reason at that point as I started gushing in his hands, his penis threw huge globs of white sticky liquid on my face, boobs and stomach, again and again. I didn’t leave him till he stopped secreting and felt his penis grow shorter in my hand.

I turned my face away from his hanging penis and closed my eyes again.

P.S. I still trust him fully after 20 years and he still grumbles about wearing my skirt.

(**) Calling an unmarried woman didi (Elder sister) or a married woman boudi (Elder brother’s wife) irrespective of her age by domestic helpers is common in Bengal.