Night Of Passion

Night Of Passion

As I lay in the dark room, horny and craving, I did not know what to do. I had not expected this, though I must confess that a feeling for her had grown, though it wasnft entirely sexual, which now after so many years, I can understand as normal for an 18 year old boy-man. My face and chest were still wet from her kisses and my dick was still very hard and throbbing. I could make out a faint trace of her fragrance hanging in the air, mixed with the musky smell emanating from my dick. I was contemplating on following her out of the room when the door opened a crack and I could see her beckoning me. I made it out of the door to the courtyard as noiselessly as possible and tried to locate where she was in the darkness. It was a moonless night and I could barely make out her outline at the far end of the courtyard, near another two storied house which was never used. I went there as she opened the door and we took a flight of stairs to go to the old library room. I was a regular visitor as I used to use the room to come and have a smoke once in a while. It had a large table and shelves laden with books from floor to the ceiling. In the darkness we could not see the stairs. She held my hand and we were climbing up together. It was silent except for the noise of our heavy breathing and rustle of her saree. I could only make out then that she was wearing one. As we reached the head of the staircase, I stumbled and fell against her. She was slightly in front, and as I stumbled I reached for support and found my hands against the firm softness of her buttocks. Her laughter was laced with naughtiness and made want to grab her from behind. We came up to the open door, she had kept it open, and she led me into the room. As she closed the door and bolted it, I was trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness that engulfed us. Is the darkness going to be a witness to our deed? She pushed me against the door and held my neck and kissed me, whispering; eNow you donft have to be scared. Wefre left to ourselves here.f I held her waist and pulled her close to me, her soft breasts crushed against my chest and my hard and dripping cock touching her just below her navel. She swayed her ass and moving my dick with her stomach she reached up to kiss me deep. Ah, the scent of a woman in heat! We were necking and by reflex my hands landed on her butt, squeezing them over her saree as I tried to part the cheeks. She said eOuchf and laughed at my eagerness. eHave you touched a woman before?f I never had, nor had I seen a woman naked, save for the blue films and the yellow covered mags or a few Debonair or Illustrated Weekly centre spreads. Hearing this she asked, eDo you want to see or just feel?f. Man is a visual animal, which I realized then. I wanted to see and feel, to which she laughed and said egreedy guyf. I was holding her tight and feeling her up from the back. She said, eIf you want to see then you have to stop feeling for a moment.f She fished out a candle and a matchbox.