Marium Aasan Telecom Bitch

I needed the job really bad, so bad that if I could not have it I would have contemplated suicide, rather than returning to my parents' home in horrid Abbotabad. Islamabad may not have been the most cosmopolitan and happening of cities, but it was Paris compared to the awful village like town my folks called home. And the position, though not all that well paying, was with the leading telecom company, in a rapidly growing market, following the Pakistan government's decision to privatize the national telecom authority and liberalize the phone market.

I had received my Master's degree just a few months back (in Pakistan a Master's can be obtained in 4 years as only 2 years are spent to get a Bachelor's degree; this is a key reason why degrees from Pakistan are often discounted elsewhere) and wanted to go out into the wide world and find myself. But my family had put hindrance after hindrance in my path. As I was well over 20 years of age, my aunts and other female relatives were frenetic in their search for a suitable husband. I was paraded in front of potential suitor after other, always finding a way to either weasel out from the situation or to insult them into withdrawing.

After about 3 months, my father had asked what I wanted. "I want to get a job and to make my own decisions in life," I responded. After thinking for a while, he agreed to let me go to Islamabad, not as far as Lahore or Karachi, and get a good job and a decent place to live. If this did not happen within 6 months, I would come back without complaint and marry the person of my parents' choice. This was magic to my ears. With my outgoing personality, reasonably good looks despite a chubby figure, educational background, and willingness to discover new avenues, I figured it would be a cinch to land a really good position, move up in the ranks of the world, set out on my own, and be in command of my own destiny. In six months' time I would be so far from the reaches of my family, they would think I was just a figment of their imagination.

My father then dropped an unexpected bombshell on my plans. "Our catering business here is quite seasonal and one cannot depend on it to ensure our well being," he said, adding, "I have bought a restaurant in Rawalpindi, about 15 km from Islamabad. This will work year round and I'll be able to keep an eye on you from fairly close."

II

I had not always been a very rebellious person. Rather I was the good child within the three offspring of my parents. Growing up in the UAE, where my father had received a government appointment, I liked the relative freedom compared to our traditional home in Pakistan. I had excelled in class and also enjoyed swimming, dancing, gymnastics and drama, all areas where the dress senses were much different from those in the Taliban type north.

When his contract ended, after having stayed in the region for over 10 years, there was no way I could, as a precocious teenager, go back to the ways and mores of a society that in my views was half a millennium behind the times. I cried so hard the first time I wanted to go out in my skirt and was instead forced to wear an all-encompassing Pathan female outfit and chador. I so missed my leotards and swimsuits.

I may not have had the best figure around, but my breasts had come early and substantially. I had allowed many a boy to fondle these bounties in my school, in return for candies or other material favours. On more than one occasion, while supposedly at a friend's house for a sleep over, I had instead snuggled up with various classmates. My "boyfriend" Najeeb, who was a few years older and soon going to college in the US, particularly liked to have me spend the night with him with only a pair of shorts on. I am certain my breast size moved to the D's because of the heavy sucking and petting he would indulge in with my assets. For nearly 15 months that I had been hot and heavy with him, our relationship did not go further than some kissing or fondling. In fact, I had rarely seen his manhood or held it, though I had certainly felt the heat on my body when he would press up against me and caress my boobs. Najeeb was somewhat aware that I did not have an exclusive relationship with him and I would time to time have a date with someone else, with some kissing or petting to follow, but the majority of my make out sessions would be with him. Many had tried to fuck me, vaginally or anally, or finger my womanhood, but I had so far resisted this temptation, partly due to fear of consequence and partly as I was not sure who I would like to do it with first. I had on occasion massaged Najeeb's cock through his underwear or pants, and had otherwise fondled those of a few others who accepted a hand job from me as a consolation against getting into my pussy, ass or mouth. In school my reputation as a man eater was already quite established.

III

As the end of my junior high school year approached, Najeeb arranged for one of our night time trysts. I had told my parents about plans to be at my friend Salma's house for a sleep over. As Salma was in the know, she waited for me to come, as if for a short visit, and then slipped me outdoors where Najeeb waited in his car. Najeeb drove me over to the beach, where we found a secluded spot. He took my face in his hands, kissed me deeply and began to rub my breasts through my shirt.

Najeeb pulled back and while still holding my face in his hands, said, "I am booked to leave tomorrow night for Michigan, and I want tonight to be a very special night for both of us. I will think of you often and cannot wait to return to you during the winter holidays." While I was well aware of his plans to depart, the news of his imminent move brought me to tears. I was speechless. Najeeb took out a hanky and wiped my tears. The flow would not stop, so he started to lick them off my face with his tongue. Very soon his tongue was deep down my throat and mine was intertwined with it. We kissed for a near eternity.

Slowly he unbuttoned my shirt and removed it. The bra did not offer much resistance either, given that he was already adept in separating it and my breasts from past experience. He raised my torso a bit and pulling on my shorts, brought them down to my knees. Then pressing me backwards, he took them off completely. I now lay there in just my panties, having never ever been so exposed to him before. As my brain tackled the new situation, he brought his hands to the sides of my panty, rolled the elastic up and down, and finding no resistance from me, yanked it off my body with ease. I lay in his car totally naked and unwilling to do anything about it.

Najeed pulled a blanket out of the car and placed it on the sand, with some pillows. He laid me down gently on the blanket. In a flash his clothes had vanished and I saw his prick in its full glory. It wasn't the longest or thickest I had seen, but it certainly seemed the hardest as I held it. A bolt of electricity seemed to pass through his body as I ran my fingers over his manhood.

He pushed me down, pulled my legs apart and placed his prick just over my pussy. "No Najeeb," I whispered, while willing him to ram it all the way in. He hands traced inside my pussy lips till he located the opening, put his penis right at the entrance, and returned to caressing my boobs. Without warning he plunged forward. A dazzling pain seared my inside but his forward progress was halted by my hymen. He took a deep breath, appeared to go very still, and then probed forward into my love canal. The pain returned as I felt myself being rent apart from inside. He kept making progress and soon his shaft was fully inside my recently virginal pussy. Najeeb began to pump in and out and as he moved I felt a wave of pleasure arise in my nether regions and flow all over me. While he fucked me for the first time ever, I wondered why I had waited so long for the experience. Najeeb tensed, then jerked forward and let go a torrent of semen inside of me. As the warmth hit me, I first felt elated and then was rudely brought into reality.

"Najeeb, did you just come inside?" I asked. He looked dreamily at me and nodded assent. I shoved him off viciously and was shocked to see his penis was totally unprotected. He tried to cajole and caress me, but I was totally upset at the thought of pregnancy with my very first vaginal experience.

IV

We drove back to Salma's house in silence. I did not even shake hands with him, but rushed to her room and into the shower. Salma wondered about me and after I had been under the shower for some 30 minutes, she came inside the bathroom. "What is it?" she asked, and I was just unable to tell her.

She pulled aside the shower curtain and found me trying to scrub out my pussy. A quick glance down at my bloody underwear told her everything. "You've had sex with Najeeb?" she inquired.

I nodded and continued to cry with the shame of expectation. "Now, now," said Salma, pulling me to her and holding me in her arms, "you will get over it and nothing will happen." I was so relieved at what she said that I hugged her close.

Before you knew it, Salma had pulled my face back by entangling her hands in my hair. She then put her lips on mine and kissed me deeply. I was thoroughly confused by what was going on. Salma shut off the shower and holding my hand led me naked to her bed. She pried my legs open and began to lick my just used pussy. I was in shock initially, but soon began to enjoy it and lay back. Salma removed her clothing, bit by bit, while licking my pussy, kissing my lips, fingering my behind or rubbing my breasts. She climbed on top of me and we began to kiss passionately. She took my right hand and guided my fingers into her vagina. As my fingers entered her honey pot, Salma started to moan and move my hand in and out with a decided pulse. Soon after she let out a squeal and lay back still, my fingers still inside of her.

"I have been so jealous of you letting Najeeb have all the fun, when I have been here all alone covering for you," she complained. Seating herself on her desk chair, she had me sit on my knees and suck her pussy. I found the taste to be fairly pleasant, even if the aroma was a bit fishy. As I sucked her, she brought her toes to my vagina and began to rub up and down. This was incredibly arousing and we continued in this way till both of us were spent. For the rest of the night we remained naked, in each others' arms and took turns at sexually exploring our bodies. My worries about potential pregnancy went to the back of my mind. Luckily the stars were on my side too, for the month passed and my periods continued as normal. Najeeb had made me a woman, but thankfully not a mother. Salma had made me appreciate lesbianism, but didn't turn me off men. I would now know how to find joy both with willing male and female partners.

V

Najeeb left for the US and appeared to go off the radar. I later heard that he had found a girlfriend in Michigan within days of landing there. I really thanked my stars he had not left me pregnant. Through my senior year, I continued to see other guys, usually just fondling or kissing. On rare occasions, I even sucked off a couple of my dates, mainly to check what it felt like. I did enjoy the feel of man meat in my mouth, but was wary of getting a reputation of being a cocksucker. Unfortunately for me, the tag was soon conferred on me courtesy of one of my so-called conquerors who talked too much, and stuck till I got back to Pakistan, probably the only good bit about the return to Abbottabad.

For me, meanwhile, release and passion took the form of Salma. We found more and more occasions to sleep over at each others' homes, right under the unsuspecting noses of our parents. Salma was very adept at licking my cunt and could bring me off many times during our encounters. For her part, she loved to be fingered, and even fisted once in a while. I warned her that she would loosen her vagina too far if I continued to fist her, but she told me of a local doctor who had promised to do her up, as good as new, when the need arose. I learned some years later, when Salma got married, that her husband was admitted to hospital with stress fractures of some sort on his penis, and on his wedding night. Apparently Salma's doctor had sewn her back up too tight and the poor guy was trying to break down cement with skin! On the positive side, Salma's family, also Pathans, would forever be able to sing praises about how virginal their daughter was at her marriage!

Senior year ended so quick, I could not believe we were all set to return to Pakistan. I was to attend the district college in Abbotabad. I enrolled in commerce and math curricula and focused, for once, on my studies. Abbotabad was not a place where I could indulge in any hanky panky, as every one knew everyone else and any hint of impropriety could lead to the Pathan tendency of killing females over honor related issues. It was no surprise when I easily topped my class during the Bachelor of Commerce exams. I figured that I could go away with a scholarship to a bigger city, like Lahore. Instead, my parents insisted I take the free ride for my Master's at IT at Peshawar University. It was a bit of freedom but just then the religious party took power in the provincial elections. Overnight, the campus and other areas turned into virtual seminaries and any possibility of sexual discovery or indulgence became potentially hazardous, given the Taliban like edict of stoning adulterers to death that the mullahs in power were trying to enforce. Would you believe I took the Gold Medal, amongst the IT candidates, in the Master's examination, and without having to resort to sucking a single cock?!

VI

I arrived at Islamabad and went straight to a girls' boarding house that a cousin of mine had stayed in some years back. It was located fairly close to the main business district and had the shopping sector within walking distance. The main bus depot for the city was right across the street, so I could get to Abbotabad and return very quick and safely. The boarding house was in a fairly shabby state, having not received any major maintenance for many years, if ever. An overweight, 50-something, matron was in charge of the place. On arrival, I was given a lecture on rules, regulations, propriety and tenets of religion relating to piety. I heard it all, wondering all the time if the garishly dressed, oddly painted, madam actually believed in what she was saying to me.

My room was as beat up as the rest of the place. I was sharing with another girl and her stuff was already on the bed and dresser on one side. I took the other bed and put my clothes in the cabinet next to it. Around 9 pm, my roommate arrived. Her name was Naila and she had moved in about four months back. Her old roommate had left, following her engagement, and so the vacancy for me had occurred. She had just found a position with a Real Estate developer that had set up shop in Pakistan, a foray out from its home base in the Arabian Gulf. Naila was lucky to have secured a position as the secretary for the Head of HR at the company. I imagined this was karmic since she was tuned in to HR activity in the company, if not the city at large.

Over the next few weeks, Naila guided me on preparing my CV, looking for opportunities and networking. I did not have any relevant work experience so I would have to rely on my strong academics and personality. On the network front, Naila was able to do a lot better for me. As time passed, I became more adept at making my case, but did not succeed in landing a real position. Unlike Naila, I was not keen on a dead end job. My father, whose business in Rawalpindi started doing better than expected, kept his tabs on me, but as the days passed, his level of watchfulness wavered. Still he kept reminding me that he was keeping his side of the bargain and I had to keep mine.

Nearly four months down, I had interviewed with over two dozen companies. Somehow, either I was deemed too aggressive or too inexperienced. The few offers that did result were far below what I would have expected and were in dead end roles. To keep myself occupied I did start work as the personal secretary of the GM in a start up software company. But I soon tired of the odd hours, the unsatisfactory pay scale and the hidden agenda of the boss, who only wanted my legs in the air. Had I been paid better and the prospects been more encouraging, I could have seen my way to sleeping with him. But for a no real return benefit, I was not keen to have his paws on my body.

My luck turned for the better one evening when Naila asked me to join her at a party. About 3 dozen persons were gathered at the home of one her friends. It was a nice enough affair with good music, decent snacks and quite a bit of alcohol about. I had indulged before, but really took to the free vodka at the party. Soon I was feeling giddy, chirpy and short on inhibitions. I danced with a number of people and made small talk with many of them.

I was talking about looking for an opportunity when one of the guys approached me. Mahfooz was a junior manager in the telecom company and told me a new Sales department was being set up for the Wireless business. He gave me his business card and suggested I send my CV to his attention. I told him I had hard copies at my boarding house and if he did not mind, we could get one from there. Naila appeared to be having a good time, so I left and had Mahfooz drive me over to my residence. He waited outside, while I fetched the document. Getting back inside the vehicle and giving him the document, I asked him what my chances were to get the job and he responded that he would put in a good word.

Feeling appreciative I put my hand forward to shake with him. I figured I was at home, just before the boarding house curfew, so might as well go inside and sleep. Mahfooz took my hand and kissed the top side, then pulled it so my body leaned in to his. He kissed me lightly on the lips, testing my response. The car was parked in the side street where, relatively undisturbed, we were still in danger of being seen. I could not bring him inside and he could not take me home either. Since I did not want to look ungrateful and being an expert at fellatio, I unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. Bending over, I put it in my mouth and moved it up and down and around it. He moaned deeply and leaned back, so I could work easier. I moved fast and very soon his cum was spewing into my mouth. I pulled away, wiped my mouth on his shirt, thanked him for the evening, opened the door and ran into the boarding house. Mahfooz was left there greatly touched and hooked to work on my behalf. I hadn't sucked cock in a while so enjoyed the opportunity after such a long time.

VII

Two days later I received a call from a secretary at the telecom company's HR office. I was to appear for an interview with the Senior HR Manager and with the Commercial VP of the Wireless division in a week's time. Figuring I needed to do some homework, I sought Mahfooz out and was invited to the office, which was located in a towering building in the Blue Area. He introduced me to the VP, Mr. Jameel and the project consultants Mr. Iftikhar and Mr. Naseem. The VP did not appear unduly interested in me, but both the consultants warmed up quickly. Turns out Mahfooz had mentioned some, but not all, of my activities with him the other day to them. Naseem in particular was keen on finding out more about me.

Noting that the offices were quite messy with all sorts of files and telephone equipment lying around, I asked what was going on. They were doing some sort of pre-qualification exercise and the items were from bidders interested in getting on to the bandwagon. Naseem complained that they did not have staff to sort out the material and organize it for study and consideration. Thinking quickly, I asked if I could help as I was not working otherwise. Naseem figured if I did a worthwhile job for 3-4 days, it would hold in good stead at my interview.