We make love

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This was when I was in eleventh standard. I was 16, and very high on hormones. There was a very, very hot girl in my class. Her name was Ishita. Her complexion was an exquisite blend of caramel and chocolate. Her body was consummately voluptuous and merely looking at her ever created a tumescence between my legs.

I had known her for quite long, but we were not really much in contact. I was ever occupied with my gang of male friends, and never had the time for romance. I never even thought of it.

But I turned sixteen, and my hormones got the better of me.

It was her birthday one day, but she was not dressed in a civil dress. Probably, the thrill accompanying the donning of a civil dress had withered away. She was in her uniform: a shirt, tie and skirt. Her shirt had a brazen bulge, owing to her well-developed breasts. She was seductively beauteous. I was already feeling a powerful struggle ensuing in my full pant. I somehow kept it repressed.

After the school was over, I went over to her home. I was delighted to see that her parents were out. The possibilities were maddeningly gladdening and I could not stop letting my imagination fly wild.

I rang her bell. She opened the door. She had not yet changed her uniform, just the way I had not. I asked her about the absence of her parents. She replied that her parents had to, on account of an unforeseen emergency, proceed to a city where her uncle resided.

I assured her that although the absence of her parents had proven unfortunate, my presence might be propitious. I presented to her the rose I had brought for her and wished her, in all her earnest, a happy birthday. She felt delighted.

I suddenly moved forward, caught her in a warm embrace and kissed her lips. I took care not to move my hands away from her waist towards her bottom. I did not want to come across as desperate.

I broke the kiss. She was stunned. I looked into her eyes and immediately began, “I am not here to take advantage of you. I can give you a much better gift, but it would only be when your own volition prepares you for it.”

I moved my left hand once over her forehead and hair lovingly, and said, “I am not scared of revealing my true feelings. I just waited for an opportune moment to confess it to you. I just happened to feel butterflies in my stomach once I saw you enter my class on our eleventh grade commencement day. Is it love? Probably. I always felt your presence to be a powerful, positive force. Never before have I felt it, although we have known each other for so long. Today happens to be that opportune day, Ishita. It is your birthday. Do you know why it is special? It is because this world was blessed with a wonderful soul like you. I am flattered to have known you. Do you think your personal acts of kindness towards the kids at the nearby orphanage are not known to me? I have seen you over there on so many occasions that I have lost count, even when you took special care to not let it be known to anyone. Do not worry. I respect your volition, and I will keep it a secret. I could express all this only through a kiss. I had no words, really. It is probably the charge running through me after kissing these tender lips of yours, that I could find the words to express this tumultuous storm of thoughts.” Saying so, I moved a step back, and looked down, slowly stealing glances at her.

She stepped forward and said, “Did you really think I never caught on to the fact that you were in clear affection with me? I did. I did indeed catch you stealing glances at me in college.”

I was surprised. She continued, “I am smitten by your confidence and candour. Truly, you are a person with a good heart. I have on numerous occasions heard praise from my mother about you. Have you not, on multiple occasions, saved your friends from the malice prepense of the bullying seniors?”

She stepped forward and kissed me on my lips. She stole a glance downward at the tumescence in my pant and said, with a naughty wink, “Let us quench the thirst of that caged devil.”

Excited with the circumstances, I dragged her to her bedroom. Immediately, I threw her on the bed and commenced kissing her lips. She reciprocated with equal vigour. I removed my shirt and vest and threw them away. Underneath her skirt, she wore black slacks resembling a man’s trunk in shape. It being her first time, I was aware of the possible pain she might go through. So, I took a pencil, inserted my hand up her skirt, using its non-writing end, I began stimulating her core through her slacks. I felt so much in love, I could not cease consuming her lips by my own. She was feeling the excitement as well; my kisses prevented her from moaning openly and her excitement reflected in her heavy breathing. I took a momentary break from kissing as I continued stimulating her core. She moaned, and my tumescence became more profound. In a short while, her waters flew. She exhaled deeply. I threw the pencil away.

Immediately, I unbuttoned her shirt and threw it away. She was wearing a sexy black bra. “Such appealing melons!”, I marvelled at her breasts with unadulterated admiration. She smiled. I pressed them and kissed her lips with equal passion. After sometime, I removed her skirt and continued kissing. Simultaneously, I ran my fingers over her stomach and neck.

She was, in the meantime, running her fingers over my pant. I felt more and more difficult to ignore my hardness, locked inside my lower garments.

Suddenly, she clutched at my stiffness. “Ah!” I involuntarily moaned. She asked naughtily, “Will you not undress, fiery?” I responded with equal naughtiness, “Of course, hot!” I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pant, removed it and threw it away. I was only in my green underwear. She smiled as she looked at the word printed on the band of my briefs, “JOCKEY”. She said, “So this is the broad, sexy cloth that cages your devil!” I grinned. I came on top of her, touched her nose with mine, and whispered with all naughtiness, “In the next ten years, I want you to introduce me to the orphans as their brother-in-law. Let us also bless them with an adorable baby nephew.” She giggled, and I continued stimulating her body by running my fingers all over and occasionally pressing her marvellous melons. She clutched, with one hand, my stiffness, and ran the other over my bare back. All the while, I kissed her lips, cheeks and forehead. I took a split-second break from the kissing to utter, “You’re so beautiful!” and continued kissing.

By now, I was so hard, I felt as if my stiffness would come bursting out of my underwear. It was struggling for freedom, but my underwear acted as a tight, secure cage for it.

I paused kissing, and looked into her eyes with overflowing tenderness. I whispered, “I love you, Ishita. I love you so, so much.” She responded, “I love you, too.” I proceeded to remove her undergarment, and then removed my underwear. Foreplay in my underwear until the stiffness became unbearable, was my fetish, but I had enough of the foreplay, and I would never allow clothes to obstruct our contact. I entered her warm and wet core, and through slow, deliberate and profound movements, made love to her very soul. The afternoon sunlight painted our complete déshabillé as I swept the walls of her wet core with my stiffness. Its sheer power evoked passionate moans from her, which I sought to conceal through my equally passionate kisses. No, we did not have sex. We made love.

My body went through some spasms as I was on the verge of ejaculation. We both attained climax together, and I fell on her beauteous body as I experienced a gushingly exhilarating release. I did not remove myself from her immediately and rested until sometime.

As the stiffness effaced and it returned to normal, I removed it from her core and wore my underwear. She, too, donned her undergarment. I then lay beside her. For a while, we stared at the ceiling.

“What was that?”, she asked.

“Love. We made love.” I responded with a loving smile.

She smiled, “My thoughts precisely.”

We dressed, and as I proceeded to leave, I said, “I came here to give you a momentous birthday gift; our very intimate moments. Instead, you were the one who gifted these moments to me. I had a splendid time.” She smiled, and I kissed. We remained in that kissing pose for sometime.

As I stepped out of the door, she said, “Don’t forget to attend the party tonight. And maybe, as everyone leaves, you can gift me what I gifted you?” She winked, and I could only smile. . .

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