Falling in Love with Nitasha - Sex Stories

Falling in Love with Nitasha

... me after Christmas, black tights and high heels. It drew compliments from girls in my year, but I felt subdued. Partly because I was on my period and in some discomfort, but also partly because Nitisha, who looked statuesque in a similar dress, hadn’t said anything. At least when we went up to Becky’s room and quickly downed some cider it gave me a pleasant, temporary buzz. Josh came to the party and lifted my spirits because he was attentive and looked great in a grey shirt and tie. We spent the early part of the night kissing and dancing. He sneaked me outside after a while and we continued kissing. I remember most not the kisses, but the smell of spring; the scent of freshly-cut grass drifting in from those hockey fields. I nuzzled his neck while his hands wandered under my skirt and played with the waistline of my tights before I warned him. He understood. He changed tack, working his way around behind me under my skirt and pushing his hand under my tights there. As his hand cupped my bare skin of my bottom, his tongue pressed inside my mouth and I stroked him through his trousers, his erection, as usual, rampant inside. I stroked it gently but only a few seconds later he shuddered, and his teeth clamped on my top, drawing blood. He moved away quickly, pulling his hand out of my tights and out of my grip. “Ow!” I squealed, my hand reaching for my bloodied lip. “I’m sorry!” he said. “Really, really sorry, Lisa. We should … we should maybe go back inside.” In a darker ...

... mood again, I followed him back. The wall of noise from the party hit us as soon as we entered the boarding house. But that wasn’t what struck me: my eye was drawn to the other side of the room across the dance floor where Nitasha was talking to a boy – Marcus – that she had told me weeks before she fancied. I didn’t see the appeal: I thought he was plain and geeky, and I’d told Nitasha as much in the past. He came from Germany and spoke English in a clipped accent that I impersonated in front of Nitasha to make her collapse into giggles. Josh turned round to excuse himself to the toilet – polite as ever – and I glanced back at Nitasha, now laughing with Marcus, clutching her plastic cup of orange juice. I watched as his hands went around her neck and his glasses closed in. Did their lips touch? I felt a ball knot inside me. At ten on the dot, the room lights glared on and the boys were escorted out of the house. We were allowed to stay up until eleven so half a dozen of us went back to Becky’s to attack more vodka and cider. I’d taken some paracetamol to ease my pain and was wondering whether it would have any effect. It was pleasant enough though, and after a few minutes I was lying on Becky’s floor, beside her bed, head swimming. I was singing songs, while the others joked. What happened next took a few seconds to appreciate. I felt a weight on the small of my back. I peeled my head off the floor and looked back. It was Nitasha, straddling me. She was drunk – more than me as ...