The Beginning

As I walk out of my office, a normal 25 year old Indian girl, dressed in a somewhat trendy Patiala salwar and fitting kurti, my ID card resting just below my bust (36 c-cup if you are wondering) and enter the bus that takes me home everyday, well almost everyday.

I am not overtly gorgeous, but blessed enough to make heads turn. As I walk past the small tea shack outside the office, I see a few heads turn. After having lived in Delhi, this is something I have grown up with, and well learnt to enjoy. If you are wondering where this story is going, then let me give you a brief. This is my auto-biography. No, no don't go away just yet, I am sure you will enjoy it. Sit back and read on.

It all started when I was in school, I was an early bloomer. In those days wearing a bra was not educated till very late, and I was feeling the need of it really fast. But anyway, it was the summers and I had just returned from my tuition class. I changed into my ususal casual worn out skirt that was almost too short for me now and a tee. Living in a nice progressive family I was seldom stopped from wearing things I liked. I was sitting alone in my room, mom was busy with TV, dad was at work, my younger brother out playing with his friends. The last class was of human reproduction, and although I already knew the theory of it, still it was interesting to read about it. While reading I don't know exactly when my hand came up to feel my inner thighs and then my panty, I was lost as we most often are while reading course books.. I was thinking about the Maths teacher in school and his deep eyes as he used to look at me, from time to time. My fingers were moving up and down the front of my panty, and soon got into a rhythm as I kept thinking about the security guard and the plumber that came yesterday, and the guys of my class, the weird look on their faces and that intense gaze that made me feel soo exposed infront of all of them. Thinking about all these men, the rhythm of my fingers soon became faster and before I knew it, my body shuddered and froze and I climaxed. That was my first real orgasm. And I never looked back.

Soon, this became my daily routine, and before I knew it, I was doing it 3-4 times a day, at times even more. I started looking for incidents and situations to observe the men around me, and see their reactions to my presence. And within a few months, I had understood what even my slightest bending down, can do to a man. How the older men, uncles, so called bhaiya's and even my male teachers would not leave a chance to steal a glimpse of my cleavage or stare at my legs. I was taller then most of the students of my class and had filled out really well even before I entered college.

Before I move to my college life, there were a few incidents that I clearly remember and might interest you as well. My college education happened in another city and I lived in a hostel. But before I went there, I used to live with my family. I was not your sweet little virgin anyway, nor was I the hottest babe in the school. I had been kissed and fondled enough even before I left home. Now, this might be a bit surprising to a few Indian men, but that is the truth, almost all the girls I know had either done it in school or at max in the early days of college. I was no exception.

It was the famous festival of holi, and all the people from around the neighbourhood gathered to play with colours and water. My boyfriend from school wanted to colour me first, so he had told me not to come out before 10am. He had also ordered me to wear a skirt above my knees and a sleeveless top, so that he has all the access to colour my body. I knew that all the guys and even the older ones were waiting for me to come out, so that they can get the chance to touch and put colour on me. He came at around 10:30 and I was waiting for him on my window, just as he came towards my house with his friends I came out. What happened in the next 45 mins, changed a lot in me. He took my hand and took me behind the building infront of most of the local guys, he then took out colour from his pocket asked a friend to put some water in his hand to wet the colour and then he went down and rubbed the colour on my bare smooth legs, infront of his friends. I froze as I saw the lust in their eyes, and felt the fingers of my boyfriend rubbing my inner thighs under my skirt. He then moved back and again took water from a friend and colour from another and this time coloured my arms and my shoulders and my collar bone and till the slight bit of cleavage showing through the deep neck top. All the while those guys who hang out with me everyday were leering at me like hungry beasts. He then held one breast of mine and squeezed it as if marking me as his property....