Nandita To Nandini
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That Monday night in December of 1970 started well, got better, and ended in disaster. My girlfriend, Carmella, and I were resident students at the same university, but in different colleges. After a lovely dinner with her parents, we'd gone back to her room on campus, and for the first time, we were both completely nude in her bed.
It had been coming for a while. When we'd started dating about three months earlier, she'd told me that she was determined to stay a virgin until her wedding night. I wasn't long out of the monastery, so that sounded perfectly normal.
Over the next few months, though, she'd gradually relaxed her no-go zones. It started when she let me fondle her breasts. A week or so later, I was unbuttoning her blouse. In phase three she let me unhook her bra and bury my face between her voluptuous breasts. Now she'd not only taken off her own jeans and panties, she'd also insisted on undressing me as well. Apart from my own, hers was the first welcome hand to touch my penis.
She lay on her back and had me position myself between her open thighs and told me I could rub my penis up and down on the outside of her vulva. It was the closest I've ever been to actual sex, and it was ten thousand times better than dry humping through winter-weight denims. Then she said something about her clit, put her hands on my ass, and guided me into a slightly different angle. I had no idea what a clit was, but it didn't take her long to have a roaring orgasm.
I was thrilled with myself and figured that she'd given me a green light for the real thing, so I took hold of King Tut and went looking for the golden gate to Queen Nefertiti's paradise.
'No! Colman! Stop that right now.'
It was a bitter pill, but I swallowed it like a man and made my way back to my own college feeling like a despicable little shit. Back in my own room, I was so mad at myself that I couldn't even masturbate.
She called me early the next day and told me that she really valued my friendship, that I shouldn't get upset, but our romance was over.
'What? Listen, I'm sorry. I know I went too far last night. It won't happen again. I promise.'
'It's not that.'
'Why? What did I do wrong?'
'Nothing.'
'But why?'
'I need a stronger man. You're too timid.'
'I don't get it. Was I supposed to rape you?'
'It wouldn't have been rape.'
*
Later my friend, Kevin, walked in and slapped me on the back of my head. 'Hey, Colman! Did you break up with Carmella?' He was one of those big, burly guys with a full beard and a heart as hard as butter on a barbecue.
'She did the breaking. I'm just broken.'
'She's an angel, asshole. How did you fuck up?'
'I dunno.'
Kev snorted. 'I've got a lecture to get to, but this isn't over. Are you gonna be around later?' I nodded.
I was sitting at my desk trying to stay focused on some damn fool thing when Kev and a strange girl walked in. 'Donna,' he said, 'this is Colman, the guy I was telling you about. Colman, say hello to Donna. She's in my Poli Sci course.'
In her high-heeled winter boots, Donna was almost my height, but slimmer and better dressed. Her unsmiling face said she was in the same kind of mood as me, but I was wrong about that—she was just "playing it cool". She wore a three-quarter length, fleece-lined lambskin coat over a light fawn-coloured cashmere sweater and a darker, short suede skirt. Everything about her, from her suede boots to her long, light brown hair, screamed "upper-middle class". I was polite, but it was not love at first sight.
'You both play chess,' Kevin said, 'so I thought you should meet.'
I was taller, but Donna still managed to look down her sharp little nose at me by tilting her head back. This hoity-toity could smell hoi polloi at fifty paces. Wrong again. It had something to do with her glasses.
'Are you any good?' she demanded. 'How long have you been playing?'
'About six years.'
'My daddy taught me. I bet I can beat you.'
Kevin grinned. 'I'll leave you kids to it. Have fun.' He closed the door as he left, and Donna promptly re-opened it.
My room, with a bed, a desk chair, and built-in furniture, was okay for a single occupant, but the only place left for a chessboard was on the bed. Donna claimed my chair, and I knelt on the floor to set up the board. She crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up, and there was plenty of leg on display. I glanced once and then ignored it, angry that she didn't respect me enough to care what I saw. I was wrong—she'd meant to flash me.
'I'll play white,' she said. 'And to the victor go the spoils.'
'Okay. What's the bet?'
She played pawn to K4, then shifted her position. Her thighs parted a bit more. 'The loser buys dinner.'
Her daddy had not taught her well. Her play was aggressive but reckless. She had no strategy—all her moves were either improvised on the spot or reactive when she noticed a threat. She resigned in less than ten minutes, gritted her teeth, picked up her things, and left without a word.
It was nearly seven, so I tidied up and met Kevin for dinner in the refectory. 'How did it go?'
'So-so.'
'Come on, man. Details. Inquiring minds need to know.'
'Her chess sucks, and she's a poor loser.'
'Pretty girl, though, and smart as a whip.'
'High maintenance, I'd say.
Kevin scratched his head. 'Just so you know, she wanted your number, so I gave it to her.'
Oh goody.
*
Donna called on Friday morning. 'I owe you dinner.'
'No worry. I won't hold you to it.'
'We're going to Luigi's, and then we're having a rematch.'
High-end Italian? I was living on a shoestring and didn't own a tie, a dress shirt or proper shoes. 'How about our refectory? You can have your rematch right after.'
'Okay. Meet me in the Common Room at six.' She sounded relieved, and I wondered why.
I arrived early. Donna was waiting for me and seemed more relaxed, at least until she found out that my residence fee covered room and board, so she couldn't pay for my meal. It pissed her off. She interrupted me a lot and found all sorts of things to argue about, but for all I knew, that was her being her.
Don't get me wrong. I can give at least as good as I get, and, for some odd reason, the harder I pushed back, the faster the glacier melted. The cosier things got, the more often Donna checked the time.
'It's almost seven-thirty—time to go.'
'Already? Well ... um ... thanks for your company. Can I see you again?'
'Oh, we're not done. The film club is showing a movie I want to see, and you're coming with me.'
'But ...'
'But nothing! I was supposed to buy you dinner, but you tricked me. So I'm taking you to the movie, and that's all there is to it.'
The film was Myra Breckenridge, and it was showing in a lecture hall in the Humanities building. At the time, it was lambasted as the worst film in the history of cinema, but I enjoyed most of it. We had mid-row seats about halfway back. No sooner had the lights dimmed than we were holding hands, and it wasn't my idea. Her head was leaning on my shoulder, my arm was across her back, and my fingers were tamely stroking the outer curve of her breast. She took my hand, planted it on the front of her chest and squeezed. I took the hint and spent most of the next hour massaging her breast and fingering her nipple. Every few minutes, she either kissed my neck or bit it. Both were welcome. My plumbing rose to the challenge.
Donna straightened up just before the hour mark, so I took back my arm and parked my hand on my lap. She reached over and took hold of it with her hand under mine. I was still erect, and the light pressure of her knuckles stiffened the rod a bit more. It was as if she knew that the "girl fucks guy" scene was close.
As Myra lured Rusty into her special trap for crushing the male ego, Donna pressed the back of her hand harder against my groin. About halfway through the scene, as Myra mercilessly fucked Rusty's ass, she let go of my hand and turned hers over to grasp my penis. She backed off when she couldn't find it.
Myra was brutal, but that hadn't shrivelled my dick. I'd had an obsession with being anally penetrated by a woman for a few years. It'd started when someone told me that lesbians could only have sex by fucking each other with double-ended dildos. Yes, I was that naive, but from then on, my favourite fantasy was of a beautiful woman impaling and reaming my back door with one end of her dildo as she pleasured herself on the other. I was jealous of Rusty, and his tears disappointed me. He should have manned up, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride as much as I would have.
The film ended soon afterwards. 'Goodnight, RBB,' Donna said as we left the building.
'Who's RBB?'
'It's the building's nickname.'
'No, that would be "The Ministry of Love". It ties in with the concept of Humanity.'
'RBB is better.'
'Why? What does it mean?'
'Really Bad Bauhaus.'
'Is there any good Bauhaus?'
The debate of form versus purpose giggled on until we were passing the undergrad parking lot. I was ready to walk her to her car, but she was having none of it. 'Come along,' she said, tugging me towards the college.
'Your car's not in the lot?'
'Yeah, but I'm buying you a nightcap.' Hmm ... a few hours with the dusty thinking of some long-dead philosopher, or a drink with the brilliant Donna?
'You're on.' The pub was crowded, but we found a table, and she ordered whiskeys. Mine was straight and as smooth and dangerous as black ice, so I relished it a sip at a time. Donna took hers with water and ice, so she found the bottom of her glass first. 'What the hell,' she said. 'I'll take a taxi home,' and she ordered another round.
'What did you think of the lesbian scene?' she asked.
I shrugged. It had deeply disappointed my inner voyeur, but I wasn't ready to share my pervy side. 'You can't call it that. Nothing happened.'
'That's exactly the point ...' Our endless debate was on again. I did my best, but Donna KO'd me in the first round. As soon as I'd thrown in the towel, her mood changed.
'If we were the women in that scene,' she asked, 'would you be Myra or Mary Ann?'
'You'd be a great Myra, so I'd be Mary Ann.'
'Would you let me fuck you?'
'I'd pretend to fight you off and make you wrestle me to submission.' Is there truth in whiskey as well as wine?
'Good answer.' She drained the last of hers and ordered our third round. Or was it our fourth?
I was starting to feel a bit fuzzy, but the drinks didn't seem to affect Donna at all. But then she leaned over the table and whispered. 'Girlfriend, if we were in bed right now, do you know what I'd be doing? I'd be spooning you, fingering your pussy, squeezing milk from your tits and leaving hickeys all over your dainty little neck.' That set my face on fire, and suddenly my jeans were too tight for my penis.
Just then, the bartender announced the last call. 'Guess who has a guest tonight.'
'Sorry. What?'
'Do you have any idea how long I'd have to wait for a taxi at last call? I'm staying over, but you have to promise there'll be no funny stuff.'
'Okay.'
'It has to be serious—seriously sexy.' She giggled at her own joke and took me by the hand.
I hung up our coats while Donna sat on the bed with her feet stretched out. 'My boots, please.' I knelt to obey and then ran my fingers up her tights and the shapely calves they covered.
She turned my face towards hers with cupped hands and leaned down to touch her lips to mine with a quick kiss. 'Be more ambitious,' she said. 'Aim higher.'
I put my hands on her hips and stretched up for another kiss, but she giggled, leaned back on her elbows, and planted a foot on my chest. Her skirt had ridden up, and my eyes lasered in on her crotch. Her tights were opaque, but Donna had put herself on display, and I didn't want to be rude. Her foot nudged me, and I shifted my gaze back to her face. Her smile was feral, her eyes piercing, her nostrils flaring, and she was slightly flushed. Another, firmer nudge. 'Should I, or shouldn't I?'
My heart raced, and my member throbbed. 'You know you want to.'
'You have a profound grasp of the obvious, darling, but what do YOU want?'
'Do it.'
Slow seconds ticked by as Donna's smile slowly widened and her eyes narrowed. She ran her teeth over her lower lip and pushed me hard enough to send me sprawling across the floor.
She was on her feet and standing over me in a trice, her stockinged foot rolling over my erection as she pulled off her sweater. Her silk bra was a gleaming off-white, and its décolleté design showed impressively deep cleavage and shaped her breasts beautifully. She plumped them, and, through the silk, she stroked her nipples to erection. Her chest blushed.
'Do you like what you see?' I nodded. 'There's more of me to love. Take off my skirt.' I was slow—my eyes were still worshipping her breasts. 'I'm not a stripper, you know.'
I clambered to my knees and knelt at her feet. 'Sorry.'
'We have all night, but that's no excuse for dawdling.'
I caressed the back of her thighs through the suede. 'That's nice—go lower—good—now back up—no, fool—under my skirt—slowly.' I obeyed, and my fingers slid up to her butt. 'No! My inner thighs! Try again.' I did, and she purred and gripped my hair. 'Take them both off. Skirt and hose.'
Donna was right, there was more of her worthy of worship. Her panties and bra were not an ordinary matching set. The French bikini had a deep V from hip to crotch that mirrored the décolletage of the bra. She sat on the bed with her thighs spread wide and ran a finger over the damp spot on her panties, and then licked it. Her fingers slid slowly under her waistband. I could not take my eyes off the slow, sinuous caresses of her fingers under the silk and spreading damp she was milking from herself.
She'd lit my fire and was putting it out with petrol.
'Dear heart, what about your feet?'
'Why not?'
I kowtowed and caressed her calves and inner thighs as I kissed her insteps and sucked her toes. She sighed and moaned. 'You do that so well. Who taught you?' I pretended not to hear. 'Come closer.' She gripped a handful of hair and pulled my face into her thighs.
I looked up at her. She wasn't smiling, but her breasts were heaving. She lay back on the bed and draped her legs across my shoulders and around my neck. 'Breathe on me,' she said and pulled my face onto her crotch. 'Don't blow, just open wide, put your mouth on my pussy and breath out, slowly.' I did, and Donna gasped and tightened her legs' grip on my head and pulled my mouth tighter onto her damp panties. She squirmed and gasped and again tightened her grip on my neck. 'Oh fuck! That's it! Again!' I obeyed and didn't need to be told to repeat it again, and again and again until she moaned and bucked her hips, and her whole body spasmed. She tasted of the sweetest nectar I could ever hope for.
She took a few deep breaths with her eyes closed and then looked down at me. 'Why are you still dressed?'
'I ...'
'Never mind. Just strip and get your skinny ass up here. I need a fuck.' I choked back a laugh. I couldn't see me fucking her, but I could sure as hell see her fucking me. 'What's so funny?'
'Nothing.'
She got off the bed and took off her bra and panties. She was almost as beautiful nude as in her lingerie. 'Where do you keep your condoms? Lube?'
'Sorry. I wasn't expecting this.' I kicked off the last of my clothes.
'No surprise there! Hand me my bag.' Donna rummaged through it, then flung it across the room. 'Fuck! We'll just have to improvise. Lie down—that's right—on your back.' She sat beside me, hip to hip, and began to tease my abdomen with soft strokes of her fingertips, and then to take a gentle hold of my penis and start stroking.
It was nothing like the fast and furious way I masturbated back then. Her touch was light and smooth, and her fingers covered only the top half of my shaft. As they slid over the crown, slight twists of her wrist lit up nerves I didn't know I had and thrilled me to the core. King Tut oozed pre-cum, got longer and fatter, and I was starting to pant like a bulldog.
She paused, leaned down, and I gasped. She'd kissed my nipple, and her firm breasts had brushed against my skin. She kissed the centre of my chest, and then she kissed me lower down, and then again, and I couldn't help panting and squirming. As her lips got closer, she took hold of my penis and went back to stroking me as her lips and tongue got closer.
Her strokes became even lighter and slower and then stopped altogether. Donna shifted her grip to the lower half of my shaft and held it tight as she swivelled to lie beside me and face my feet. Her thigh was touching my face, and I kissed it. With one final, lick her lips reached my crown, surrounded it and took half my penis into her warm, wet mouth.
I moaned. I had never dreamed of pleasure half as delightful as this. I'd heard of oral sex but had dismissed it as an urban myth, nothing that ever happened in real life. Yet there she was, her pursed lips sliding up and down as her tongue caressed my shaft. I was in heaven, and she was so calm and gentle that I knew I would not cum too soon.
I slid a hand between her thighs and started fingering her vulva. 'Not yet!' she said. 'Just spank my bottom for me.' I was happy to, and she passed my cock back to the iron grip of her strong right hand. She stretched lower to lick my testes for a few moments and then began to lick, kiss, and nibble every hypersensitive millimetre of my cock from base to crown. Before King Tut was back in her mouth, I was ready for the ecstatic feel of her moist warmth caressing me. Instead, she took the length of me deep into her and sucked powerfully. I bucked and gasped and found myself trying to push in deeper. She'd brought me to the point of no return, and I had to cum, and it had to be then and there. I was bucking and thrusting, and I could not resist the power of my urgent need to cum. It happened. I ejaculated into her throat, and it seemed to go on forever. Donna kept right on sucking to squeeze out every last drop. Finally, she let go, curled up beside me on the bed with my balls cradled gently in her hand and her lips and tongue playing with my nipple. I barely noticed. I was in shock.
'Did you like that?'
'Amazing.' I paused. 'Did you spit it out?'
She snorted. 'I'm a woman. We swallow. Spitting's for girls.'
'Can I kiss you?'
'Of course you can.' Lips and tongue met lips and tongue, but there was no funny taste in her mouth. Hands wandered everywhere but my lips won the battle of her breasts. Donna was breathing heavily again and I tried to kiss my way down to her pussy, but she was having none of it. 'Lie down,' she said, and pushed me off her. She was on her knees, straddling my hips with her hands holding my shoulders down on the mattress before I could say "boo!". 'You've got the right idea,' she said, 'but leave it to me. Okay?'
That confused the hell out of me. It was my turn to give, and hers to receive. What was there to leave up to her? But I was her student, and she was my mistress. 'Okay.'
I got my answer within seconds. She slid up my torso to kneel over my head with my face between her thighs and her fine-haired crotch just above my mouth. The thrill of being that close to her sex was already stiffening my cock. Her swollen, glistening beauty, more lovely than any flower, stunned me. She leaned forward and supported herself with a hand on the wall while staring down. 'Do you like what you see?' she asked. 'Can you feel my heat? Do you like my scent? Would you like to taste me?'
My hands were free, and I reached up to caress her breasts. They were smaller than Carmella's but firmer and higher with erect and slightly upturned nipples. I loved the view. I loved looking up to her as I would to a goddess. I loved her wet heat and my worm's eye view of her gorgeous vulva. Her scent was yeasty but dry, like sourdough bread. I could smell a trace of urine as well, but I didn't care. I inhaled deeply and stretched my neck up to taste her. She was sweat and salt, but it was better than nectar. I gripped her hips and tried to pull her down to me—or my face tighter to her sex. I didn't care which I just wanted to kiss her and burrow my way into her with my lips and tongue.
'Down, Fido!' she said, with a laugh, and with a hand on my forehead, she pushed me back onto the bed. 'Let your pussycat play,' and with that. She lowered herself onto my mouth and introduced me to the fine art of face-fucking.
She slid her vulva over my lips and tongue with a delicate rocking motion. I loved the soft texture of her pubes on my skin, the slippery feel of her moist, warm labia, her scent, and her taste. Most of all, I loved that she was riding me, controlling me, using me, owning me.
I'd been right about Rusty. He was a big baby. Real men are secure enough to never feel threatened by a woman's awesome sexual power. I was relishing the exquisite and immensely satisfying pleasure of submitting to Donna's dominance.
Her ride got a lot rougher as her arousal peaked, especially when she exploded into orgasm, but that only aroused me further. Donna collapsed on the bed. We kissed, and cuddled and she held onto my erection. I buried my face between her breasts.
'Would you mind, sweetie? I'm really tired.'
'Okay. Sorry.' I tried to turn my back on her, but she wouldn't let me.
'No. No, listen. I would never let a lover's erection go to waste. Why don't you be Myra and I'll be Mary Ann. You can spoon me and jerk-off on my butt. How does that sound?'
It sounded fine, but as her cheeks pleasured my cock, I got greedy and tried to play with her breasts just as Myra had tried with Mary Ann. Donna stopped me, just as Mary Ann had stopped Myra, but hers wasn't a full stop. 'No. Let me sleep, and next time I'll pin you down, smother you with my tits and then and fuck you with them. How does that sound?'
I liked the idea of Donna smothering me with her breasts but I didn't know how she was going to fuck me with her tits.
My cock crowed in record time, and I'm pretty sure I was asleep before she was.
*
My face was on Donna's butt, and I was kissing and slapping her ass while she sucked my cock. I woke up when something wet and cold hit on my face. My dream evaporated. 'What the fuck?'
'Wake up, sleepy-head.' I blinked. Donna was standing over me. She put down the glass and threw me a hand towel. I squinted at her and thanked God. She was nude except for her panties.
'What? Huh? What time is it?' I'm no early bird, and I'm useless until my second cup of joe has kicked in.
'Six AM.' She yanked my sheet off me and grinned like the Joker when she saw my erection. She reached down and grabbed me hard enough to choke a chicken and dished out half-a-dozen lightning-fast strokes. It was much too brief. 'I've got plans for this baby, but first I'm going to kick your ass. It's time for that rematch you promised me.'
'It's too damn early for chess.'
She ignored me and sat on the bed. 'Make room.' She'd set up the board on my chair, and there was already a white pawn on K4. 'Your move.'
Still half asleep at that early hour, with a full bladder and a penis aching for more tender loving care, I didn't stand a chance. My play was worse than hers had been the other day, and in the first dozen or so moves, she nabbed three pawns, a bishop and a rook. I tried to focus, but I just couldn't get my shit together. When I noticed that she'd lined up a bishop to capture my other knight, I moved him out of danger and that blunder put my queen into the line of fire. Donna nabbed her with unholy glee. 'I've got you now!'
It was mate in four, and I should have resigned, but my ego told me I might get a draw with a bit of luck. It took Donna more than four moves, but mate me she did.
'To the victor go the spoils!' She clapped her hands and sat on the edge of the bed. 'Get up.'
I stood in front of her with my flag already at half-mast. She took my penis in her hand. 'Feel my breasts.' Their weight thrilled me. I kneaded them, and pinched her nipples as she stroked me. When the flag was flying, she took me into her mouth. When the flag was ready to fly off the pole, she straightened up, parted her thighs and, still holding my cock, she grinned up at me. 'Lie down.' I must have looked stunned. 'Across my lap, Colman. I want your lovely boy-toy right here, between my thighs.'
I felt nauseous. I'd been over a woman's knees once or twice before and hated every second of it. But this was Donna and I could see no venom in her eyes, no anger, or guilt. What I saw was anticipation, lust, and caring all mixed up. I nodded, but my heart was pounding as I lowered myself onto her lap, angled so the bed could take most of my weight.
Her thighs clamped shut on my penis and her nails teased my bare skin. 'Are you comfy?'
'Yes.' Her stroking was tender as well as teasing. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.
'I'll fix that.' She slapped me twice, one on each cheek. 'How did that feel?'
'Nice.' I lied. It hadn't hurt, but there were traumatic memories, and I was having a hard time not bursting into tears. I'd finally found some sympathy for Rusty.
She hit me a little harder, several slow whacks, and there was still no pain. She paused and again ran her fingertips over my bare bottom. It felt nice, but not as nice as the grip her thighs had on my tool. 'Let me know if it's too much.'
'Keep going.'
'Don't be cheeky!' She pinched my inner thigh and that did hurt, but in a nice way. She upped her game. Her slaps got harder and came faster. She paused again. 'Are you sure you're all right? Your butt's getting red.'
'You wouldn't believe how much I'm loving this.' Donna had opened up a whole new universe of pleasure for me. I wanted the spanking to go on and on. I especially loved the rhythmic squeezes of her thighs on my cock.
She noticed. 'Your cock says the same thing.' She got a yelp out of me by crossing her legs, clamping as tightly as possible and rolling her thighs. My cock felt like a garden weed being rooted out of its soil for the few seconds she kept the pressure up. 'How do you like them apples?'
'There's an eighteen-inch ruler in my desk drawer. It'll hurt more.' I meant it. The initial shock of having my penis rooted out of me had passed and I found myself craving more and more pain at her beautiful hands.
'Next time,' and she went back to slapping my ass, even harder and faster now, and she'd also doubled-down on the pressure her ballerina strong thighs were putting on my penis.
She paused again. 'That's enough. Your ass looks like it's is on fire.' She didn't let me up.
'I'll probably feel it later.'
'There's something else I want to try.' Her thighs started pumping me more gently and to a faster rhythm, and a finger-tip started to massage a magic bundle of nerves hiding just behind my scrotum.
How could Donna possibly know more about pleasuring my body than I did?
I gasped but then there was a thumb pressing on my anus. It felt like nothing I'd ever felt before. It wasn't an itch, just a small, pleasurable twinge that thought it was an itch and shamelessly demanded attention. She pushed her thumb in a bit deeper but the 'itch' intensified and retreated, inviting her to chase it even deeper into me. She didn't, but that didn't matter—I surrendered to her triple-pronged attack and ejaculated. Donna whooped in triumph and dumped me off her lap and onto my back. She grinned in triumph as she stood over me and held me down for a few seconds with her foot on my chest as she flexed her biceps.
She let me up, and I joined her on the bed. We kissed. 'What are you getting me for Christmas?' she asked.
'What would you like?'
There was a long pause. 'I'll give you a hint. Lie down on your belly.' I stretched out on the bed, and she straddled my hips, then lay on top of me and humped my buttock. I broke into a sweat.
'Don't tell me—if I get you the right present, you might hit the target.'
'Shut up. It's supposed to be a surprise!'
It wasn't of course, but that's another story for another time.
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