Waking alone on a Sunday morning with nothing on my schedule puts me in a nostalgic mood, and since I’m also rocking a massive hard-on it has me reminiscing on one of my favorite past relationships. I’ll save details here to get to the good stuff, but I in college I fell into an interesting study group consisting of three petite girls of Southwestern Asian ancestry who were raised sheltered and focused on school to the nth degree. I was the outlier, a tall white guy whose priorities were chasing tail, hitting the gym, and getting drunk in that order of importance. They helped me get my goals on track and I helped them loosen up and explore, especially Rithya.
Rithya had long black hair with a luminous shine and smooth skin I had been fortunate to brush across once or twice. Her eyes were dark and piercing, but warm. And though she was self-conscious about her sharp, large nose, I found it a gorgeous, unique feature that fit in well with her congruent cheekbones. Physically, her build was slight, the smallest of the bunch though I appreciated a pert chest and ass, courtesy of yoga. She was Tamil and carried a burden of supporting her aging parents more than any 19 year old should. Rithya had also taken an eye to me, her hugs lasting longer than the others’, offering to cook extra food near exams, and an emerging mixture of intrigue and jealousy when I mentioned dates with others.