Chapter 6

Home. Drunk. Felt like shit. All my fault. Too slow, too stupid, and too selfish. Nothing more to say.

No. Nothing more to say and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it. At the turn of the year Bob and I had talked daily and dreamed nightly about the girls, hoping they thought of us in the same way.

Not so. They wanted us absent from their sides when in public and they had seen to it that all of their Indian lovers were kept in the backroom if not held within the confines of a silicone tube. Smart girls. Loved and adored by their close family while their secret dalliances led to an orgasm for every dose of semen pumped into their eager loins.

Sadly, all through the winter months the bed in my dungeon of an apartment grew as cold as the outside air. The girls were spending more of their time with Bob, something he admitted to, adding that whenever Suman found one of his friends worth sharing herself with she would call Reeta to join in on the fun. Reeta hadn’t completely deserted me but her rare visits didn’t make up for all of those other empty nights.

They finally confessed their secret other life to Bob and me, admitting to their very close association with a range of other men. Bob didn’t mind, mostly, but I needed time to think and assuage my bruised ego, fantasy finally being crushed under a reality I wasn’t ready for.

But life went on, and rather than retreating into work or drink my actions took a more sordid and selfish turn.

My parents lived next to where Suman and Reeta called home, the parents obviously blind to all the illicit carnal activities the teen girls were enjoying. I often visited my parents, usually for Sunday dinner, and often saw Suman’s parents and other family members.

Usually just with passing chitchat or light talk, always pretending that I rarely saw or cared about the girls. Not so oddly every once in a while over the passing year I helped them in taking care of odd jobs. Once helping the father change a tire and another time helping him install a new dishwasher. Other things as well, small and inconsequential, but it led me to know all in the family on a first name basis.

This happened to include Prisha, Suman’s younger sister. Younger, but only by two years. As Suman neared her eighteenth birthday Prisha had turned sixteen, something I knew well since I was invited, with my mother, to her birthday party. A small thing, not even an all-American cake being baked, but special nonetheless.

I really had no designs on the younger girl, Suman filling all of my dreams while Reeta enjoyed my filling of her loins. Then, purely by coincidence, Prisha and I were pulled together. Prisha had wanted to take an after-school seminar every Tuesday and Thursday after regular school hours. The father refused because he didn’t want his daughter coming home after the sun had set in the midst of winter. Prisha contacted me, I agreed that I could pick her up after work, and the future of my damnation was set.

I had been seeing little of Reeta and even less of Suman those winter months, but even then only on certain days and eventually only over the occasional weekend. Turned out Reeta and Raj were really heating up their secret relationship just about then. Being ignored by the girls was a blow to me, particularly when I knew Bob was getting more than his fair share of pussy on a number of fronts, but I thought the dry spell as only a temporary phase the girls were going through.

My isolation was why it was no problem for me to pick up Prisha at the high school, about four-thirty or so, and drive her home. We quickly became closer and I looked for new and different ways to prolong our time together. Sometimes picking up a needed grocery item and more than once we’d stop for a snack, once even getting a hamburger, something she was never allowed to eat at home.

Did Suman know of this, me talking with Prisha and hanging out and becoming close? Of course, but she never treated my connection with Prisha seriously. Suman would sometimes talk of her sister and it wasn’t unusual for Suman to open the door when I dropped Prisha off, but never did she come out and question my intentions. Not until too late anyway.

There came the day when Prisha laughed at one of my jokes and I leaned in and brushed her head covering to the side and kissed her, very lightly and on the cheek while saying, “Prisha. You are so beautiful to me.”

And she was. Very much her sister’s sister, and though she was two years younger than Suman she was already an inch taller. Her face a little lighter, her eyes even more like almonds than Suman’s, and her chest just as developed. A bit heavy like her sister, not as slim as cousin Reeta, and yet on her taller frame the extra layer of flesh made the girl seem more seductive and alluring.

Unlike Suman and perhaps following Reeta’s style Prisha also enjoyed the use of tattoos on her hands and sometimes even her neck and cheek. Not permanent, something the girls claimed could be applied quickly and worn for only a day or week or so. Very different from the browns and dark reds of Reeta, however, Prisha varied her colors and patterns, perhaps trying to show independence while also acting her younger age.

Prisha was beautiful, funny and interesting and lacking in the cynicism or devious ways of her sister. I liked her and my attraction had grown to such a degree that it seemed only right to tell her. I kissed her, lightly and on the cheek, and it was Prisha who turned her head and allowed my second kiss to touch her lips.

That had happened in February, during a late afternoon rain while we were waiting at her school for the nasty weather to lessen. After that we said nothing more but all the way home we held hands. She of course asked about Suman, knowing that Suman and I had a history, but I shrugged it off. I emphasized that my past relations with sister and cousin had ended. Largely true, though just the prior week Reeta had spent well over an hour under the covers with me. I chose to hide that, to lie, not realizing that Prisha and the two older girls probably talked in depth about every little thing they, and I, did during the day.

I kidded myself in thinking that Prisha could only guess at just how much Suman and Reeta continued to see Bob or how I would sometimes join in on their illicit group games in Bob’s bedroom. So I lied to Prisha about having no kind of social life just as Reeta pretended to live a chaste life. I lied and she knew it, acting the perfect young naïve girl. She lied, but what did I know? I could do nothing but believe her.

In my mind we went slow, it taking more than a month for my kissing Prisha to us wrestling in the car to trying to hump her at the back of her school. In a darkened hallway, pulling her into a long kiss, my hand pushing down and under the waistband of her long loose pants. She didn’t mind, her knee raising as my fingers slipped into the hot wet jungle between her thighs.

I couldn’t say how long we were at it, kissing and moaning, my fingers running back and forth within her thick pussy lips, but long enough for the girl to fill my palm with her grool. We wound up kneeling on the hard floor, my fingers dipping into Prisha’s hole, and then the ludicrous nature of the situation broke us. We began laughing, our lips pulling away from the other, my hand pulling out of her pants, my arm around her waist as we walked to my car, smiling and laughing all the way.