My childhood friend and I were venturing through the tropical border between India and Bangladesh, seeking the ever-flowing Ganges river amidst the sultry hot and humid climate. We happened upon a small town, where the locals wore minimal garments made of fine animal skin intertwined with green and yellow leaves. Each of them bore a specific responsibility and duty to their town, each equally vital in the thriving of their people.
We did not speak their language, other than a few words: water, food, and thank you. When I spoke to the village leader, I could see a beautiful young woman in the corner of my eye. She snickered at my accent, but in an adoring way; not judgmental. When the village leader was about to lead me to some food, his daughter intercepted me and led me another way. She quickly spoke something in Bangla, and with a disapproving eye, the leader reluctantly let her take me.
My friend was busy with the town’s kids, so I simply followed along the river with her to her humble abode. There, she pointed at her chest and spoke “Sumaia”. Reciprocatively, I answered “Bash” as I pointed to my chest. She smiled and went into her home and came out a minute later with a wonderful assortment of fruit, nuts, and chicken jerky. The fruits were foreign to me, and the juices flowed down my cheek each time I bit into them. She walked up to me, as I ravenously dug into the food, and wiped my cheek of the juice and licked her fingers.
I gazed into her deep eyes, tracing down her face and body with eyes – her voluptuous lips and breast, thin hourglass figure, and revealing loin skirt. I stepped forward, only an inch away at this point, when she grabbed my hand and placed it onto her heart. I could feel it beating slightly rapidly and I grinned with affection. I did not restrain my passion, and so instinctively my arms reached out and grabbed her and pressed her firmly against me – my manhood already engorged. Her eyes popped open with joyful amazement and then proceeded to lock lips with me, as the half eaten fruit tumbled down the hill and into the river.
We only stopped to walk further up the hill and away from the other villagers, laughing and tripping along the way. Once we reached a patch of soft greenery, I firmly laid her down as I removed my sweaty tanktop and shorts. As fast as the passion had come, so had I. With embarrassment, I flipped over, panting. She laughed, again in an adoring and not judgmental way, and I laughed, too. Once I caught my breath, I slid down lower and continued where I left off, using my tongue and finger in a harmonious and rhythmic pace that led her to climaxing almost as fast as I originally had.
Realizing we were gone too long, we hurried back so as to not arouse suspicion..
..to be continued.