And How We Met Again

“Hi. Are you Vicky from Vikramshila Colony? If not, then please sorry. Ignore this message please. – Ruth”
I started at this scrap message in my Orkut profile for quite long; relieving and relishing memories that rolled forward from the archives of my memory department.

Vicky- this is my pet name; only my family, my childhood friends, and neighbors at places where I grew up use this to address me. Vikramshila Colony is one of those places, where I spent 3 of my earlier teen years,. And Ruth. Yes. Who can forget her. Pity, she did not upload any of her photograph on her profile.
And yet I could see her relief standing sharply against all the haze that 10 intervening years had condensed upon. Curvaceous; buxom; young; beautiful; unblemished and utterly desirable- she defined the classic oriental beauty so often eulogized in ancient Indian texts.

Incidents had now started to flash on my vision plate, in any order. Our endless conversations on the roof tops; Our afternoon chats in her drawing room- both of us on the di`wan, She propped against the pillows, and me reclined, my head in her lap, my cheeks pressed in her warm, soft and intensely feminine thighs, while we talked away hours; The day of drenching-when I had stood for an hour in the fiercest of the downpours after she had accused me for selfishness, and her hugs – after she dragged me inside- wet and warm, both; Her first try on micro- mini skirt and the rush of excitement as she danced ‘Hit me baby one for time for me; me sneaking the ‘Kamasutra’ book to her, and our joint, secret and thrilled perusal of its content. Our nightly sojourns on our roof tops. Our joint exploration of porn pictures that I gleaned from my friends. Our intimate contacts when my hand glided up her thighs under her skirt and my fingers brushed against her vagina- her pretence of ignorance, but her silent approval with lift of her hips at my attempt of removing her panties, the expression in her wide eyes when I first inserted my fingers in her vagina, our secret hours of mutual masturbation,…

Ruth was our neighbor in Vikramshila Colony when we had moved in there. Our houses were adjacent; as a matter of fact they rather abutted, so that our roof span, for all practical purposes, was one single continuum. She was in class X and I was in class VII (at different schools) when we had met first.
As I have already mentioned, she was buxom, very pretty, delightfully voluptuous, and perhaps an inch taller than me, while I was a skinny and diminutive kid. Yet there was a strong charge of excitement and intense lust between us from the day one. Our age difference looked much greater due to our different levels of outward physical maturity and therefore no one in my or her family really bothered at our hanging out together.
With both my parents working, everyday almost all of my post school hours were spent in her house. Soon her mother too grew extremely fond of me and she so whole heartedly approved my visits that she called me up if my arrival was delayed beyond the usual time of 2 pm. Thereafter we retreated in her room, at the back of the home, and no one disturbed us there till late evenings.


Free and unobtrusive from any prying eye, our relationship matured rapidly. There was only an outward pretence of innocence between us, while both of us knowing our wants very well. Therefore whenever I rested my head on her lap, she always pulled up the hem of her skirt as far as possible. On one pretext or another I frequently touched, caressed, and smoothed the fabric of her dresses above her breasts, feeling their full roundness, softness, and many a times her nipples too, in the process. When I happened to be on a chair or in any sitting position, she would often sack over me with her heavy breasts resting on my shoulders, the side of my face pressed against them. If she had been sitting on the chair, I used to lean over her shoulders and girdled her neck, my fingers playing on the white smooth skin of her neck and chest as close to her cleavage as they could dare. And of course, her round fleshy thighs were my routine pillows when we talked
Our relationship also progressed rapidly due to encouraging role played by Ruth’s mother.