Gay sex story â PUSHâŠâŠâŠ.KAR, Pushkar
Gay sex story
Prologue:
I am nine years old, my Brother and Pushkar are going out in the evening. I want to go with them and have been pleading with Alok my elder brother, but to no avail. I am tearful, I turn to Pushkar holding him, âplease take meâ âChhotu, donât cry, next timeâ and he gently strokes my head and with a rueful smile takes my hand away. He looks back to wave good bye and smile as Alok shouts impatiently âWhat are you doing with chhotu, we are getting lateâ.
The match had just lit the fuse of the cracker, when I was startled by a shout of âchhotuâ, I fumbled and my fingers burned as I forgot to let go of the match. Muttering obscenities under my breath I turned around, âBhaiyya, I am Anshuâ. âI know chhotuâ Pushkar stood there, grinning mischievously, slightly drunk, sweat dropping off his hair which was all over his face. He sort of growled at me with mock anger âwhat the hell are you doing here, childishly playing with crackers when we are dancing there? You are his younger brother or what, why arenât you dancing?â
Without waiting for my answer he half dragged me in the thick of Bhaiyyaâs and my friendsâ dance. I started dancing to the music under the garish lights of the video recorder. We were in the middle of the street, and the band was playing âYe desh hai veer jawanon kaâ to which every baraat dances in north India, due to its excellent rhythm if you donât mind the lyrics. I hate the bright lights so I turned my back to them and was now facing Pushkar who was dancing vigourously, his eyes closed, lips pressed together, jaws set firmly together, breathing fast, chest heaving under a tight shiny black shirt which was open at the neck contrasting his fair skin. I was dancing slowly, enjoying the pulsating music around me when Pushkar opened his eyes, looked at me, grinned and leaning back started to thrust his pelvis up with the beat, swaying at the same time. He would lean backwards and then come up, a strong virile very very male dance.
He came towards me and putting his mouth close to my face shouted over the din âwhy are you dancing like a depressed cow? Huh, beta bhabhi to jaise dance karayegi you are gonna do, but not for your bro? Take a look how one dances for a brother!â and he started a bhangra , throwing up his arms and legs and dancing around me egging me on to emulate him, he was close enough for me to feel his beer laced breath on my face, when he leaned towards me; he is about two inches taller than me. I just laughed âI am not drunk like you, so naturally I havenât got your power and staminaâ âDrunk! Who is drunk here, just a pissing bottle of beer, that too just to prevent dehydration Chhotu, when I am dancing. Even a kid like you aint gonna get drunk on a bottle of beer!â winking at me as he slapped me on the back, really hard. âIt hurtsâ, I cried out. âWhat hurtsâ feigning indignance he aimed another blow at me âChhotu, if I wanted to hurt youâ. I averted it swiftly from past experience and said âI am not Chhotu, I am Anshuâ. He just laughed. I left the dance, went ahead of the retinue lighting more crackers ahead of them, I love crackers though otherwise I am very correct ecologically.
Alok bhaiyya is getting married, he has passed from IIT and has got a good job, and soon he is going to Germany, and Bhabhi Bhamini his junior, now is pursuing her M. tech. and will be joining him after her studies. It has been a busy and tiring time but fun too, for all my college friends are here, and I am really enjoying myself. I am doing my graduation, am a commerce student, aiming for the CA. We drink beer on the sly, pass comments on all my diverse and weird relatives so things are great, and then there is Pushkar.
He is oldest and the best school friend of my bro Alok, the same age, so some five years older to me, thus 26, and always picking up on me ever since I can remember. I have always liked him though; it has been more than once when he has saved me from the wrath of my brother, most memorably from a deserved thrashing when he and my brother caught me trying to smoke, in the railway yard behind our house, I was in 7th then. Before my bother could beat me to pulp, he caught hold of him and restrained him âchhotu bachha hai! Let him be, yaar, we all try these things, and you righteous bugger, you yourself had your first puff in 7th class itselfâ âyes, but I donât smoke now!â âAnd he wont be smoking too, ok, so let him goâ And he shooed me away ârun you idiot, and donât smoke again, or I will thrash you myself the next time!â I ran away thanking him, and he must have said something to my brother, for I was spared what I was dreading the most, a hiding from my dad, Alok didnât rat on me, and I am pretty sure Pushkar was the reason. Just for records, I donât smoke now. But he would always tease me mercilessly about everything, right from my first pimple to my thin frame; I think myself as slim, and yes chhotu, a moniker which I really hate, and he seems to love in equal measure. But it is with him that I have first felt grown up, for he would share ribald jokes with me, when Alok wasnât around, and he just winked and passed on when he saw me having a beer at the Dhaba. And he always has taken a lively interest in me, how I am doing in my studies, sports, which I donât like and to his credit laughed only a little bit when I told him I was learning dance, for he never saw the idea. Dancing for him is for baraats, and he goes to the pubs to drink, and he has made it loudly clear that he would much rather dance in skin with his girlfriend in the bed, than on the floor.
And girls, that always has been a sore point for me, for by the time he was in 8th he always had a girl around him, I believe this was the only thing for which my bro might have been jealous of him, for girls just seem to like him. Though my brother Alok is good looking, fairly tall, and always the topper of his class; anywhere, and plays cricket well, Pushkar can simply charm a girl, and he has been bit of a Casanova too, half of my mohalla girls thought Pushkar loved them, but he has never stuck long with any girl.
The whole marriage thing was a blur of excitement, lights, music, jokes, good food, and me and my friends lapped it up all, I was also looking at the girls, though I wasnât really looking at their boobs and my friends seemed to be doing little else; I like girls but somehow I have never felt really excited by them, have got a few as friends too, have kissed and petted, but it never gets to me if you know what I mean.
Though both our and Bhaminiâs families are in the same city, they had put us in a hotel for the night. I being the bridegroomsâ brother was accorded special status and after being treated royally for the whole evening was given a nice single room, while most people were sharing rooms.
I was changing when my brother knocked on the door. I opened to see Pushkar standing besides him, protesting âDonât bother chhotu, I can sleep anywhereâ Alok wouldnât listen to it âNo way, you have come all the way from Germany on my wedding and you are not going to be bundled along with my snoring relatives, you are sleeping in this room, and be fresh in the morningâ Pushkar couldnât stop himself from commenting âyeah I will be fresh in the morning I guess, but what about you? I guess I will have my breakfast alone now, kya be!â and leered at him.
My brother simply smiled at him, didnât say anything as I was there. Pushkar came in and I locked the door. I had already changed and had been thinking of sleeping in my shorts, but took out a thin t-shirt as I had company now. âAnshu, you lie down, I think I will have a bath or you wonât be able to lie besides with me with my stenchâ. I havenât told you, since I donât understand why, he never calls me chhotu when we are alone, and he has insisted on me calling him Pushkar ever since that cigarette episode, but this has always been a very private camaraderie. I protested, it is almost 2:30, have your bath tomorrow, get some rest now.
Pushkar started to change âI donât think I will be able to sleep, I am all sweaty and sticky and I am stinkingâ and with that he entered the bathroom. I must have dozed off, for I woke with a start when a few drops off water fell on my face. Pushkar was immediately contrite, noticing my half dazed look. Dressed only in a towel he had been shaking his long wet hair, and droplets had been flying all over the place. âitâs ok Pushkarâ I said and noticing his body said âyou look so fit, I think you are handsomer than beforeâ âshut up, you pervert, just go to sleepâ âno seriously, you always were a hit with the girls, now they would have jumped right off the roof if they saw you like this, and I wont blame themâ He was pleased with the compliment but said nothing, placing one foot on the chair, he rubbed his dick and balls vigorously with the towel, just turning so that those werenât visible to me. He peeled back his dick and patted it gingerly drying himself thoroughly before donning his shorts.
He lay down besides me, looking and smelling fresh, I could not help saying âlook at you, I regret not taking a bath, you look so fresh and yummyâ He looked at me with a strange expression â saale, itâs your brotherâs suhaagraat not yours, so you stuff your freshnessâ then in a very soft voice âitâs time you got some pussy, hope you are getting it Anshuâ he just shook his head and turned to close his eyes when I replied in the negative. He was soon breathing regularly in the cadence of a man in deep sleep.
My head was buzzing, I couldnât sleep. May be it was the excitement of the whole day, or being bone tired and then woken up when I was half asleep, but now I felt too keyed up to sleep. Also it was the touch of Pushkarâs body which was exciting me in a strange fashion, and I couldnât help brushing against him every time he moved. The bed wasnât really meant for two. Then he turned and lay on his back, snoring softly. His arm and thigh were pressed against my body. Even in sleep, I could feel the firm tone of his body, in shape but not too defined. He lay flat on his back, arms and legs spread, face up, a confident man, even in his sleep. I have been told that I always sleep on my side, a bit curled up.
No wonder, he is such a hit with the girls, I thought. Just imagine how good a girl lying against this chest will feel. I realized with a start that I had put my hand on his chest while thinking about it. I felt his chest rising and falling gently under my hand, I didnât remove my hand even though I didnât want him to wake up with me feeling him up, it felt so nice to touch him, his skin was cool under my feverish hand, I was suddenly feeling hot and had to get up for some water.
Even after the glass of water, I felt restless. I sat down on the bed and then got up, but finally got back on the bed after pacing around the room. âLook at him, bloody guy is sleeping with no care in the world and I am feeling so frustrated, cant even get some sleepâ. As I lay back, my hands brushed against his. Long but thick fingers with hairs on the back, exuding strength, I canât recall being fascinated by anybodyâs hand like that. Donât know for how long I kept looking and admiring that hand but then a motion caught my attention at the periphery of my vision.
His shorts were moving at the crotch. âDreams of past conquests?â Fascinated I watched his shorts bulge and become taut till an unmistakable silhouette was there. The thin material of the short defined it so well that that it might not have been there. Every curve every ridge every bulge perfectly visible. I found it beautiful. Almost like a tulip with a monstrous stem, gift wrapped in a checquered tissue. Only the head appeared a bit squashed where it was straining against the waist band of his shorts. I shook my head and looked away; I felt my face flush. My breath was a bit ragged.
I tried to distract myself about thinking about all the girls I had seen in the day, and had flirted with. I started fantasizing about a lovely slim girl with small breasts when somehow I morphed into Pushkar and the girl was clinging to him/me, I was amazed by my/Pushkarâs size as I/Pushkar grew hard, and before I fully realized what was I doing I was checking it out. I lay petrified in the room, my hand on the throbbing warmth of Pushkar. I was amazed that the hammering of my heart was not waking him up if my groping hadnât woken him up already.
My fantasy was banished to some dark corner of my mind, never to emerge again; I was in base reality. Me and Pushkar in a small hotel room in the dead of night, and I had my hands on his tool, I was so dead man! I lay there breathing very quietly, my body growing colder by the second and seemingly sinking into the mattress. I waited for Pushkar to wake up and deliver all the promised accumulated thrashings over the years at one go. If I was not dead in the morning it would be a very near miss.
Everything is magnified in the dark of night; the silence was like a crushing weight on my chest, broken only by the steady breathing of Pushkar. But the oh-so-deserved thrashing never came. When I felt I could move, I removed my hand and placed it on my chest, it was warm; may be the only warm thing in my body. After seemingly a long time, night makes the time stretch out, I was again composed, my heart had recovered its normal rhythm and was not trying to jump out of my rib cage; I again looked at my bedmate. He was sleeping as quietly as ever, and yes, as hard as earlier if not ever; I had no way of knowing that. If my terror was magnified earlier, it was the turn of my curiosity and courage now. With no excuse apart from my own curiosity and desire, to feel deliberately what was accidental earlier, or was it? I wasnât so sure now, I put my hand over Pushkarâs belly, it was warm and I felt it stir a bit under my hand. I slowly inched my hand down till it was at the waist band arched by the fleshy tulip of Pushkarâs nether garden.
I brushed it with the tip of my fingers and when nothing happened put my hand over it. Letting it hover for some time before I put the full weight of my hand to rest there. I was needlessly worried; from what I felt there, I might have pressed it quite hard and it would have been hardly affected, it was that hard and solid under my palm, only the spongy head which was under my wrist was squashed when I pressed, and that too, to regain its sponginess with a small twitch, the instant I removed the pressure. It was such a nice feeling, and I was getting hard. I had to move my hand further down to gauge the full length. It was longer than my hand, when my fingers reached the base where the skin was loose, the head seemed to be about two inches beyond my wrist and my hand is six and half inches. So how much is it then, eight and half inches! I felt like I was touching a precious sculpture, and that being a part of Pushkar, made me its trustee, it sounds all jumbled up but then, so was I. Like I shouldnât or couldnât be denied Pushkar.
And I had to yet get the full measure of that mesmerizing blind Cyclops, whose unseen eye held me fast already. I glanced at Pushkar, who seemed to be sleeping as peacefully as ever, totally unaware that after all these years of promising to beat me for my various misdemeanors he has finally smote me but without lifting a finger. But it was no less severe, for I would have recovered from a mere physical beating no matter how severe, but, even at that moment I knew that, there was no recovering from being smote by his mighty rod. I should have been more concerned by his absolute stillness, and the changed pattern of his breath but it appeared to me a good omen to explore further. I lifted his waistband carefully so as to not snap it, and the half covered head with its eye was staring at me. I just stared at it for some moment finding it irresistibly beautiful; it was standing on its own accord at an angle of fifteen degrees from the belly. I touched it and it seemed to acknowledge it jerking its head and seemed impossibly to swell even further. I held it now gently slowly peeling it back, before I caught it in my fist and stroked it once throughout its length. I swear, it almost purred, throbbing in my hand for some time before it settled down. In my hurry to go further down I forgot about the waist band snapping it on his belly. In the quiet of the night and in my nerved up condition it sounded like a whip crack, Pushkar stirred a bit, but didnât seem to wake up. I pushed my luck and hand deep inside his shorts and felt his plums, which were so firm, and filled my palm, but my heart was already impaled not on the fruits but the trunk from which they were hung.
I started stroking him, slowly, full length, reveling in its hardness and solidity. It was almost like playing with my self after a while for now I knew its response. It suddenly seemed to swell some more and jerk when, a hand clamped over mine and Pushkar turned towards me, his lips were at my ear âEnough!â My hand was still but I hadnât let go, but if I tried to move it Pushkar would grip my hand tightly, I lay still and after some time when he removed my now unresisting hand, my heart was leaden.
The spell was broken now and all the previous doubts, fears, remorse and guilt had their deathly grip on me. That Pushkar hadnât spoken seemed to me ominous. If he had pushed me down and kicked me, I would have been happier than lying besides him in this portentous silence. I could bear it no longer, âpushâŠâŠâ âShh, just sleep its lateâ âPushâŠâ I persisted again âAnshu, this already is a bizarre night as it is, please donât make it worse by entreating me to pushâ
To my profound discredit, I didnât even smile, for I missed it completely, and it was only the next day at around ten, when the proverbial bulb lit up, then of course I made amends but more of that later. When I tried to feel him up again, he stopped my hand gently but firmly and after two or more tries I stopped. Now both excitement and anxiety were gone. I felt deflated with relief, and Pushkar was so quiet that I couldnât even hear him breath. I turned and snuggled up to Pushkar, my back to his chest, he didnât resist, even when I pulled his hand on top of me, but when I started to stroke it, he stopped me, again by gripping my hand, no words. Again growing a bit adventurous I tried to snuggle my butts to his crotch, but his knees were bent, there was a bit of wordless argument between my butts and his crotch, suffices to say my bums had the day, rather night, and as I fell asleep, they were being warmed by an out of season yuletide log, not aflame and crackling, yet spreading its heat.
The next morning I was rudely awakened by a tight slap on my butt, I yelled and jumped up. Alok my bro and Pushkar were laughing at me, for a moment I was bewildered and terrified, then I saw their indulgent faces, and relaxed, âwhat was that for, it so unfairâ Alok said âI donât know, ask Pushkar, he wanted to slap you, said it is difficult to sleep with youâ â By the way, what did you do to get his goat, for he has always saved you from meâ With a surly and defiant look, I challenged Pushkar âwhy donât you tell him and me too?â I kept staring at him. Pushkar laughed âLook at him, exactly like a petulant kid, and sleeps like one too, doesnât know where his hand or head or ass is, the whole night he kept on kicking meâ.
We were back home with Bhabhi. The whole house was busy, and every body seemed to be asking me for some thing or the other, since almost everybody had come down for this occasion, including the groom. No body seemed to know where anything was, or may be it was just convenient to ask me if they wanted something. So though I was rushing the whole time, I can hardly remember doing any thing.
People were sitting, and talking in small groups almost every where in the house, from news to catching up on relatives to gossip and jokes over endless cups of tea and snacks. And of course there were the ladies, from the old cronies, who were tirelessly talking snidely about everybody and everything, to the young ones who detested the old spoilsports equally vehemently. But thankfully in the majority were young women, dressed in all the colours of rainbow with jewelry and accessories to match, which really made our house festive, filled it with laughter colour and perfume! The real delight was their conversation, which I could hear only in snippets as I flitted between them. Most of it was the usual small talk about clothes or other women, but some of the young hornies were talking about guys, including Pushkar. It is hard to believe what girls will discuss when they think no body is around.
They were talking about, the good looking guys, their bodies, who was doing what, how much they might be earning and whom they were with; euphemism for fucking around. Pushkar therefore seemed to figure prominently, being the groomâs best friend, good looking, fit and muscled body which was more revealed than hidden in an open short shirt and old faded jeans, cut off just at the knee. And his recently confirmed status of NRI, was manna with honey. These topics were trite at best, what made the discussion delectably sublime was their candour over discussing the crotches of the studs they were ogling at. There was laughter, sniggering, contempt, even pity for some of the guys but awe was reserved for Pushkar. I made myself busy rummaging needlessly through a suitcase through which I had already gone thrice. The general opinion was that, he must be stuffing himself with hankies, like male models! I could only pity them at their ignorance of the full range of humanity and its appendages. I could have enlightened them, but some truths are best left under the veil or the Calvin Klein, in this case.
Coming out of the room, I headed straight into a group of Alokâs friends, loitering in the veranda. Anuj immediately raised his eyebrows âlook at chhotu, he is glowing like a 1000watt lampâ âwhatâs the matter, looks like you scored big time, and we are just outside sniffing the heat!â I had never thought my face to be so transparent and I wasnât on my guard, I felt my self flush and hated myself for it. For a moment I thought they all knew about yesterday night!
âReally look at him, he is flushing like a kid, most likely some girl called him a cute kid, thatâs enough to please himâ Pushkar said with a sneer, to all round approval and laughter. So, that was it, thatâs how he really saw me; just a kid. I felt angry, humiliated and worst, hated myself for expectingâŠâŠâŠ..what? I didnât know, but surely PushkarâŠâŠit was bloody unfair. Somebody called me asking for a fresh towel, I was never happier to be of assistance and walked away as fast as I could without actually running.
Rest of the day I avoided Pushkar and his cronies except once. In the evening one of my distant uncles got hold of me, and it was impossible to get rid of him without being actually rude. So I had no option but to be nice to him. He was grilling me, but when he saw Pushkar, Alok and the rest of his friends, he called the group, and I breathed easy; now it was their turn to be interrogated. Any way Alok was the star with his just married status, so it was only fair. But, soon like people of his age my uncle was waxing eloquent on the civic degradation of Indian cities. People were politely agreeing, when he pointedly asked Pushkar âYou are now in Germanyâ âDĂŒsseldorfâ Pushkar interjected. âYes, yes, I meant things are so efficient there, because they choose people for their qualities, nothing else matters to them, here we have caste, money, nepotism, corruption everything except what people should be voting for, no wonder we are going to the dogsâ. Pushkar smiled politely, and with a mischievous twinkle in his eye âyes, they donât care for any thing else, we even have gay mayors in Germany, but nobody would vote for one here even if he was the best guy?â Uncle appeared outraged and as he was struggling to control himself, Pushkar turned towards me and in his most insouciant tone âwhat, Chhotu, will you vote for a gay candidate?â
I was totally unprepared for this, âEh what, vote for whatâŠ.?â Pushkar said in a grave tone âOh, I am sorry voting isnât for kids like Chhotu, abhi to, even girls scare himâ Anuj picked up the strain âYeah, remember, how red was he when we caught him listening to the girls?â As if on cue, âBut surely this doesnât matter as long he is good? Surely uncle cannot mind a gay mayor?â this was Rudrangsh, the boor in the group. Poor uncle, I donât think he had been ragged in a while, Alok took the matter in his hands and skillfully steered the conversation to more conventional topics, but uncle hadnât recovered and was barely speaking, which I guess had been the whole purpose of this strange exchange. But I hated being the collateral damage, I got up âI donât think a kid suits this adult gatheringâ and walked away; I had plans.
I was away from the house for about an hour, and when I returned, I was feeling much better. It was some time before I could get Pushkar alone. He was on the roof top, it was dark and he was leaning against the balustrade. He noticed me coming to him âKya chhotu, hawa khane aaye ho?â âNo, want to tell you somethingâ âYes?â âHerr Klaus Wowereit, Berlin and Herr Guido Westerwelle, foreign ministerâ It was such a pleasure to see the smart omniscient hero look blank, but he recovered quickly âRight on both countsâ But I was not done yet âEight and a half inches is impressive, but it is hardly big enough to keep me calling a kidâ His brows furrowed and his face settled somewhere between fury and contempt for me; now I was afraid that after my bluster he might slap me for the first time. I involuntarily took a step backwards, as he straightened up, but he merely said in a strange and tired voice âwrong on this count, half an inch over the mark, go away chhotu I donât wanna talk nowâ. Now I was feeling like a complete idiot, didnât know what to say, so I silently walked away, when I turned to look at him, he seemed to be deep in thought not even looking at me. My heart was hammering as I went back to the house.
I was subdued the whole evening onwards, people commented on it but naturally I had no answer. Thankfully, we were sleeping a bit early for every body was tired, especially me. Alok, like yesterday wouldnât listen to Pushkarâs protests, his best friend had to have the best. And for the night it meant my room. Pushkar had already freshened up, and his luggage was already in my room. There was nothing to do but to lie down. As I turned off the light âgoodnightâ âGoodnightâ I said as I lay besides him. I was very quiet, carefully avoiding any contact his body, donât know how long I was like that, may be an hour. Sleep was eluding me, though I desperately wanted to sleep, and was almost half asleep, when Pushkar said âYou asleep?â I was immediately fully awake âyes?â âNothing you are very quiteâ. I put my hand over his hand, I felt him tense then he was again calm, I stroked his hand and put my hand on his abs, felt his skin shiver under my touch, still he remained quiet. Now my heart was hammering. I was so keyed up, that I could feel my blood rush, but there was no going back now, only forward. I lifted my hands and lay it on top of his shorts. A soft warm mass filled my hand, and I pressed it softly, Pushkar turned his head to the other side as it stirred within my hand. I was now massaging it rhythmically, my body seemed to be on fire, my throat was dry and my legs tingled. My body was pressed to his side, but we were both absolutely still, the only movement was of my right hand and of course within his shorts.
It was fascinating to feel it grow under my ministrations from a soft shapeless blob of muscle to a steel rod, which even lifted up my hand if I didnât press it down firmly enough. Pushkar still said nothing, but I could feel the effort he was making to keep his body still and relaxed. I put my hand inside his shorts, and held him for the second time in as many nights. Pushkar moved and held my hand, trying to remove it, but by now I had regained the confidence, with which I had approached him on the roof. I removed his hand with my free hand; it came off after a momentary struggle. âYou are Alokâs brother, he is my best friend, I canât allow thisâ âYes I am ALOKâs brotherâ, stressing on his name, ânot yoursâ and without giving him a chance to reply âI am sorry for the half inch and my comment, it is big enough for you to call me Chhotuâ I said in a very mockingly serious tone. In spite of himself he relaxed and turned his head towards me ânever seen you like this!â âNever had the rod of destiny under my control beforeâ
âChhotu you will turn out to be such a harami, I never would have guessedâ âat your serviceâ and I pulled his shorts down, tucking the waist band under his balls. âOuch, it is painful, you buggerâ âI am so sorryâ I sat up and before he could react, with one swift tug pulled his shorts down to his knees. He sat up and tried to pull them back but I was faster than him and pulled it right off him and threw it to the furthest corner of the room. He stared at me furiously. âwhat is this Pushkar, it is the middle of the night and I am trying to sleep, you should keep it quietâ and before he could recover from this broadside, I offered in my most sincere manner âOh, now I know what you are angry about, look Biblical justice at its bestâ and with that I removed my shorts and threw it to the roomâs corner on top of his shorts and lay down on my side my back towards him. I kept quiet and hoped he wouldnât rush out of the room.
âSome bloody cheek you have Anshu!â âYes Pushkar, you are so right, but how did you know?â and I took his hand and put it on my bum.
He was slowly shaking his head but didnât remove his hand. He was still sitting up, I put my hand on his shoulders and pulled him down; he was tense at first but then lied down, quietly. I felt him; he was going soft and didnât harden up as before. I was disappointed, may be it was too far for both of us. And I had to admit this was pretty crazy, I had never even thought about something like this, let alone doing what I was and I liked Pushkar too much, even before I knew about the eight inches, and was this worth losing him, even if he did tease me, for I had always looked up to him and he had always looked after me in his own way. But I never had felt anything like what I was feeling now and he would be gone tomorrow. It was now or never.
He was very quiet, no reaction, when I turned towards him. âPushkarâ âwhatâ he snapped. âNothing I just wanted to say I was at a cyber cafe in the evening, it was there that I found out about the mayorâ âoh, itâs okâ âBut that was not all that I found out there, you knowâ I waited for him to say something but he kept silent. âAnd you are going tomorrow, so what was I supposed to do, tell me?â The room was lit by a small dim decorative night lamp, but I could see clearly as we had been there quite some time.
I saw Pushkar relax, though he was very still and silent, even his breathing was inaudible to me, but he let out a long sigh and brushed his forehead with his hand.
I held his hand and stroked it; he didnât resist when I lay my hands on his abs and felt his fine body, and ventured further down. He responded this time, feeding my hand with his weight and warmth and when I tried further down he spread his thighs a bit allowing me to stroke the insides. I felt his finely muscled thighs goose bump, as I stroked them and then back up. He was so hard now. It felt wonderful to be holding him so freely for the first time; I knew I would have eternal regrets, if I just let it at that. I pulled him and he turned towards me, but he didnât look at me, he was staring at the ceiling. I turned too, my back towards him, snuggled to him, he didnât move, but my back was touching his broad chest, and I felt his warm breath on my nape. I could feel his hardness between my cheeks; I pushed at them and was shamelessly happy when it responded with a jerk.
His breath was faster on my neck after a while. He would rub his stubbly chin on my back once in a while sending shivers down my spine, I wished he would kiss me but he wouldnât, even when I turned my face towards him, and I was afraid to ask lest I should be denied. Instead, I pressed my body against Pushkar harder and harder, wanting to be enveloped by him, wanting him to cover me up, pervade and invade me so deeply that I should feel him to the very depth of my core. For the first time in my life I had the taste of what will always haunt me. I wanted Pushkar now with an intensity which frightened me by its force, it clutched at my throat, it crushed my chest, it made me break in sweat, my face was hot, my hands cold and clammy, and my voice was rough and cracking; sandpapered clean of its dayâs timbre, rough and edgy. A foreign voice came from my throat âPushkarâ again pushing back, for he was just holding me lightly and simply refused to do anything. âItâs enough, let it be, lets go to sleepâ he said in an almost tired voice.
âSleepâ, the word exploded in my head, it was the most obscene word I had ever heard in my life. This raging bull of masculinity was lying besides me playing oh-so-coy, and here was I ready to low like a heifer in heat, I wanted to sit bolt upright, straddle the chest of Pushkar and punch him senseless, I had never felt so frustrated and helpless in my life.
But all I said in the calmest voice I could manage, taming the lava flowing in my veins âDammit you know itâs not enough, what would you have me do for what I want, and I know you know what it is. Do you want me to go down on my knees and beg? Let me tell you Pushkar that I will begâ âsssshhhhâ he held my face in his hands âno begging for you Anshu, now or ever, its just that there are things you donât under stand, its not so simple as you think. Even if I wanted what you want, we havenât got the things for itâ. Silently I turned and withdrew from under the mattress, my Nivea crĂšme and a pack of Durex extra large and handed it to him âlike these things?â
He was absolutely still for a moment, âand logistics is my strong pointâ then with a shrug âso be itâ. I looked him in the eye, ânow you know this is Anshu who wants you, not chhotuâ and tore open the packet. He watched fascinated as I unrolled it and covered him, then smeared it liberally with the crĂšme and wipe the rest around and inside myself, âlove and lube, the site suggestedâ turning to Pushkar as I lay on my side my back to him. I am proud to say, I could discern a note of awe in his voice âI doubt if I will ever get a more thorough bastard than you, Anshu you are one crazy buggerâ No I didnât smile or answer âits all your faultâ though it was so tempting.
But he was right about one thing, it wasnât simple, ardour can carry it in only so far. It slipped up, then down and twice side ways, I was saying shit all the time, and he was laughing at me âhasnât hit the shit yet!â God it was time I took matters into my hand, this bugger was toying with me. I held it in my hand, placing the tip in position, and pushed sharply and oh my god, I almost blacked out, I was like, with a hot potato in my mouth, I couldnât believe the pain would be so sharp, the bastard knew what was I feeling, he was smiling at me. I couldnât let him best me, I clenched myself down there a few times, took a few deep breaths âPUSHâŠâŠ. KARâ and pushed back myself as far as I could go. The pain wasnât worsening, it was steady for a few more moments after which, I could feel its throb but it wasnât distracting me. I judged the remaining length holding it in my fist, almost half, four more inches, pushed back mercilessly not listening to the sharp protests from my behind till I couldnât feel the base with my fingers, it was only then that I rested for a moment.
It was a night of many discoveries and confirmations, about me and my body. I learnt pain proceeded pleasure and it was worth it. My body was my ally, and I looked at it now with greater respect, it seemed both my own and something new and it was a pleasure to renew our acquaintance. I learned to trust my instincts, what I had attempted today was not what I had ever thought about or have been told to do but I was driven instinctively towards it, and I was reaping rich dividends for my foray. Must be special for everybody the first time, but I was totally bowled over by the sensations arising deep within me.
Pushkar had lain still within me for as long as I was quiet, but once the pain was gone, it was replaced by an urgency to move. I was moving slowly at first then with increasing vigour and I felt Pushkar join in after sometime and then take over. As the force of his thrusts increased I was turned from side to prone, my leg folded under me, and I had to adjust and angle my butts to take his full thrusts comfortably. The feeling was amazing and it was not merely confined below. The taste in my mouth changed to something sweetish when he started thrusting deep! I was stuffed behind and was engorged in front. I have woken up a few times on the verge of a wet dream, fully hard and throbbing, a few more seconds; I would have been cumming, it was the same here only more prolonged, acuter with every thrust of Pushkar. We had settled into a steady rhythm, I could now in a manner modify his thrusts, by moving with him to diminish it or against his motion to get him in even deeper.
But that lasted only for a short while, for when Pushkar really came to himself and started pounding me uninhibitedly, I had to cede all vestiges of control. I felt like the tarmac in the opening seen of âtotal recallâ which Arnold was breaking open. For a moment it felt I would be in similar tatters, but then, I let myself go with the flow, didnât try to stop, control, resist, or modify. Just felt the movements in and out of me, I was almost once in a zen like state; experiencing not reacting. Donât know how long I would have remained like that but for Pushkarâs âare you all rightâ, âuuunghhhhâ I said and pushed back, but Pushkar had stopped. He had half turned me and was holding my face âAnshu, you all right? I am sorryâ
âAre you Pete Sampras playing the America open, that I should be applauding your every shotâ I smiled at him ânever knew you to be such an egoistâ, âof course I am all rightâ. Pushkar face showed a range of expressions and, became fixed at determination and he pushed me back and this time started driving in earnest. I was glad for it, for I couldnât have handled sympathy, and I didnât want to show any weakness. I have had enough of being Chhotu. This time I was having it, for Pushkarâs hard determination was literally hard on my butts too. As I lay beneath him, I tried to angle myself upwards, for he seemed to touch something inside me which lit my body up like a sparkler every time, but for that my weight was on my knees and they were sore under the work I didnât feel anything when he came, except for a deeper and faster pounding, when he drove in further than earlier and almost knocked the breath out of me. I only sensed the reaction of his body, as he held his weight off me while coming, and then withdrew. I felt relieved and cheated at the same time. I felt pride, humiliation, guilt, and fear; now that the act was over and I understood the enormity of it. Life would never be the same again, but as the minutes passed, a sense of calm stole over me; I didnât exactly know what I had wanted when I started, but it was ok, the way things had turned. I turned to lie on my back and then realized; I would be sleeping on my side; at least for the next few nights.
Pushkar had torn off half a page of a news paper and wrapped the condom with its packet, and balled it up. I heard him flush it down the toilet as he washed himself. He picked up his shorts and wore them, threw mine at me and came to the bed, lay down on his side facing away from me. After a few minutes I got up and walked to the bathroom. It wasnât painful at least until I clenched myself down there, but just sore. I looked at my self in the mirror, and I was smiling first then grinning, I felt stupidly happy, as if I had wanted this all my life. I soaped and cleaned my self, amazed when three fingers slipped inside effortlessly. Now the high was gone and I felt tired to my bones, and I was glad to back on my bed. I didnât remember when I fell into a dreamless sleep.
I was almost ebullient the next morning and Pushkar subdued. He was nice to every body, but ignored me the whole morning. His flight was in the same evening, and it transpired that I was driving him to the airport, for Anshu and Bhamini were going to the railway station at the same time as one of her uncle was leaving by the train and she wanted to be there. Pushkar was silent, till about halfway to the airport. I was startled when he said suddenly âI am sorry, Anshuâ âWhat for?â âIn the end, you now, I was almost punishing you, but that was wrong, itâs not like I am blamelessâ âI should have stopped you yesterday at the beginning, I was awake from the very startâ âI am glad you didnâtâ, and put a hand on his thigh. He looked at my hand in a very sad way but didnât say anything or remove it. I put my hand back on the steering wheel after a while. âYou are Alokâs brother, I feel like shitâ âyou keep on saying that, as if I am nothing apart from Alokâs younger brother. What if I wasnât his brother, then it would have been okay with you?â âItâs not like that, it wouldnât have happened with anybody else, I would have kicked the guy, who tried anything like thatâ âSo, now we both agree that it is a good thing that I am Alokâs brotherâ âI am sorryâ and with that he was silent kept looking out of the window till we were at the airport.
The flight was delayed, so we waited, had coffee and made small talk. After a while he wanted to check in, and we got up and he hugged me, tight, I felt him hold me warmly for a moment before his body went quite rigid and he released me abruptly. âPocket maar raha tha kya beâ this was Alok, who had caught up with us along with Bhamini, âyou never said goodbye to me like thatâ âAbe, I am not leaving you alone now, now it is chhotu who is solo like meâ âtake him with you, may be he will grow up with youâ âyou never can know how grown up he might be all of a sudden, he is all grown up as far as I am concernedâ.
Epilogue:
Four years later I am waiting for Pushkar at the international airport in New Delhi, the first time playing in my mind. He is going to stay with me for two days at my flat in NOIDA; I am working in Delhi now. Apart from us nobody knows he will be here today, for every body else he will be arriving after two days, and it has been like this ever since he came back to India some six months after Alokâs marriage and today will be the 5th such trip. By then I had shifted to Delhi, studying and working.
I am at edge of the bed in my flat, legs high up in air (my favourite position for this trip), Pushkar is standing before me, looking a bit apprehensive, embarrassed and also guilty, and I am laughing. âlet me turn off the lightsâ âwhy, I am not looking good or whatâ âno Anshu you know this makes me uneasyâ I reach up and hold him, he is hard and throbbing, sheathed and lubed âit looks most at ease, shut up and PUSHâŠâŠâŠ.KAR, Pushkarâ He kneels down a bit, sighs and obligesâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ.
Guilt has its edge.