Falling in Love with Nitasha - Sex Stories

Falling in Love with Nitasha

... poked my tongue out of my mouth and ran it slowly along the top of my lips making them wet. Nitasha smiled at first, but then her face sobered. She lifted her eyebrows and said, “That’s quite sexy, actually. Do it again.” I gulped, wet my tongue and licked my lips again, more slowly, but more theatrically. Suzanne may have still been in the room, though I have no recollection of her. I seemed to have been licking my lips for far longer than the regulation 15 seconds. Nitasha wasn’t smiling though. She was just looking. “You win,” I said, “You didn’t laugh.” Nitasha ignored me. “My go.” She edged closer again – less than six feet away now – and this time her eyes bored into mine. She repeated what I’d done, licking her lips slowly. Her lips glistened. Then purposefully and without breaking her gaze, she unbuttoned the three buttons on the front of her pyjamas. I felt like I’d stopped breathing. I swallowed the saliva that suddenly filled my mouth. What was happening here? I felt weak in my chair as her top moved open – not enough to reveal her breasts, but enough to show a strip of bare, coffee-brown skin from her neck to to her belly button. I flushed as Nitasha, still licking her lips, moved a hand inside her top. I could clearly see her make circular motions around where her left boob was, as if she was rubbing her nipple. I counted – slower than normally – to 15, but giggled dutifully at the end. The bell went for lights out, and as suddenly as the game had escalated, it ...

... ended. “Night, stupid,” Natasha chirped. Buttoning back up, she flounced out of the room to take charge of the kids. The game wasn’t a one-off. We reprised it every few weeks, with one consistent feature: it always took place in company. Nitasha was at her most over-the-top then. Once, when a couple of final-year students were in our room listening to music on Nitasha’s speakers, she perched on the chair opposite. Cross-legged in her pyjamas, looking directly at me, while the others chatted, she put her hand inside between her legs and ostentatiously mimed a lazy, loving masturbation. As she did, the waistline of her pyjamas dropped a little exposing the dark patch between her legs. I could see the back of her hand moving up and down, as if in slow motion. Another time, inches from me, she ran her tongue over her lips then pushed a white blob of saliva out of her mouth to form a bubble. It popped, and I felt the tiny atoms of saliva hit my cheek. It was the most intimate thing that had ever happened to me. *** The end-of-term party at our boarding house at the end of Lent term was, I’d been told, the highlight of our social calendar. Being English, we’d secured lots of alcohol, and more easily than we’d thought, thanks to the dad of one girl – Becky – being a wine merchant. Mostly cheap cider and vodka, it was stored in trunks in Becky’s room on the floor above us, and we drank some of it there before the party. I wore a sleeveless, short black dress that I’d brought back with ...