Part 4 - My Sex Tutor
This short but memorable experience in 1984 is about my aunt’s sister. I owe it to Sumashree for initiating me into my first real sexual encounter. Until then I was only into masturbation, fantasizing film actresses, neighbors and class mates, and had indulged in the most extreme case (until then) of sucking Rupa’s breasts. I was touching 17 then and was in the XII standard and had appeared for my Board exams. She might have been 26 then and stayed in Bangalore. She was buxom. She was dark but had a fantastic complexion and a charming smile. My family had been to Bangalore after my examinations and holidays. I was awaiting my results and we were scheduled to return on the day the results would have been announced. Sumashree had an interview after 4 days at Mumbai with an accounting firm in Mumbai. She returned to us from Bangalore. My first “contact” with her was in the suburban local train. (People who have traveled in these local trains in Mumbai will know what I am about to narrate). It was peak rush hour and the trains were crowded. We had to get into one of them, we had no option. My parents had positioned themselves along the wall near the door with the luggage between the wall and the legs. Sumashree and I occupied the opposite side. We had to; otherwise, it would have been difficult to alight at our station. Crowds in Mumbai railway stations swarm into the compartments even before the train comes to a stop at the platform. And they rush in like bulls. Sumashree was not used to such a rush and I had to protect her from the mad rush. I stood in front of her and held against the wall with my arms. At the next station, the crowds rushed in and I was crushed against her. I struggled to protect her from the mad rush. And it was a General compartment, meaning majority were gents. I was pushed into her. My chest was pressing her against her soft breasts. It was the first time I had felt a mature woman’s body against mine and it was the first time I felt a woman’s heaving breasts against my chest. All this resulted in my penis rising from its slumber. In the rush, I saw that the pallu of her sari had slipped aside and was slowly on its way down. There was no way I could use my hands to put it in its place. Neither could she have. There was practically no room for any movement. Her arms were around my waist. And I was breathing down her bare chest above her blouse. Her deep cleavage was not making my life easy. My erection had hardened and was thrusting against her abdomen. I knew she felt it and she knew that I knew. She gave me a naughty smile. The crowd was growing and pushing. My arms couldn’t hold on for long resisting the pushing crowd. I collapsed and now was completely pressed against her. My face was close to hers. She turned her face aside. I could smell the musky fragrance of her perfume near her neck. I found myself rubbing my face in her neck. I could feel her twitch. My right hand was on her sweating waist in the gap between her blouse and sari. I tried to mutter a sorry, though I was not. She whispered, “Don’t worry. You cannot help it, can you?” “I tried, but you see the rush?” I was apologetic. “You are lucky aren’t you?” she winked and smiled naughtily. “I didn’t mean to. Please?” I lamented. “Hey, don’t, don’t be sorry. You can have a nice peek in as long as it lasts. And boy, you are hard, aren’t you? Don’t push too much into me, you are already making it difficult for me” she said. I smiled back and was probably blushing because I felt her pulling me towards her, and then lightly moved her face on my shoulder and neck. I felt she kissed me, but was not sure. We stayed in this way for another 20 minutes when we found our way out to our platform. I thought that was the end of it. At night, I masturbated in the bed, under the blankets thinking about her and her soft breasts. The next day our results were to be out and I had gone to the college early to get the results. I had not fared well and I was expecting a verbal thrashing at home on arrival. I was already in tears at the door. As expected, my father gave me a dressing down. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I was at fault. He had great expectations from me and I had let him down. He left home after some time. Sumashree was around when my father was giving me a thrashing. But she did not interfere. My mother left for the market after trying to console and quieten me. But I knew that I had let him down and the career and life ahead were bleak. I was still sobbing. Sumashree had gone to the bath and she came out wrapped in a towel covering her breasts. She had put on her petticoat below. She was still drying her hair. Even among my crying, I couldn’t help noticing her. The towel was wrapped and tucked in just at the cleavage. A large portion of her breasts was visible and I even noticed a white patch and tan line of her bra straps on her otherwise dark skin. She looked voluptuous. It was the first time I was seeing a woman in flesh and blood in that attire if you could call that. And I remember being surprised that she could walk in like that with me around. She stood in front of me and continued to wipe her hair. She held my shoulders and tried talking me into stop crying. I had by then, I remember, increased my vocals. All of a sudden, she hugged me and pushed my face into her bosom, smothering me in her valley. My sobs were muffled and I stayed in her cleavage. It was a strange feeling. I had never been so close to a woman’s breasts before and the scent of her skin aroused me. (Yes, Rupa’s breasts were as close, but more of it was momentary with me trying to hold my breath under water and suck her at the same time) She was ruffling my hair and rubbing the back of my neck. It was a new feeling for me. I could hear her heart beats. They were fast. My face rose and fell with the rise and fall of her breasts. I had stopped weeping by then.