In my gap year, between college and University, I stayed in India with my sister and her new husband. They'd married in the summer and I joined them, traveling alone, in the September. They lived alone in Agra, in a sixth floor flat with a view of the Yamuna River.
On my third night I was sitting up in bed, struggling to sleep - jet-lagged, the dogs barking, the air con rattling, the autos, motorbikes and mayhem. Yet, indistinct at first, I heard, becoming clearer, louder, more desperate, my sister - was she calling me? Was she crying? She sounded desperate. I climbed out of bed and turned off my fan. I stood there, in my black nightie, listening, straining my ears...a nasty dog screeched. My sister seemed to say; 'Uh huh huh...'
My sister was groaning - had she got tummy trouble?
I opened my door and entered the corridor.
'Oh. Oh. Ha. Hun Ji!'
I felt funny. I felt excited, like a schoolgirl creeping to steal a midnight snack. But I wasn't a girl. I was a young woman now - I looked down at myself - my nightie was too little; not the sort of thing to wear in front of one's brother-in-law; too short - my long brown legs were too exposed - my body was toned and shapely and this frilly, clingy nightie accentuated my features. Also, my bare arms, shoulders, feet... I crept along the corridor.
My sister Honey is four years my senior; my only sister. I love her, and was saddened when she decided to live in India rather than England. I resented her for it. But the man our family chose for her, a rather macho, bullish boy from the same caste, but not the same class, had insisted she live in northern India. He did not like England, or the English people. He was a U.P man.
Their door is ajar and I peek inside. Honey is breathing heavily. Of course I know they are making love. I am sleep-walking, curiously, wickedly invading their privacy. I am voyeuristically spying. Shit - this country is all about spying on other people's private moments. Just that morning the maid was washing our clothes - her blouse was drenched. It was an Indian wet-top contest and the skivvy won that one. So the door is ajar. I peek. I cannot help myself. Just one incy wincy peek.
Honey is on top, her bended legs either side of his body. Her back is to me. She is riding him. I see the bottom of her feet. They are white. I see his feet also, but the rest of him is blocked and concealed. The main thing I note about Honey is her hair. Like me she grew it long, half-way down her back. It is thick and black as coal. I see, in the half-light of the glass window, the moon, the stars, her bottom, her ass cheeks, tensing and relaxing as she moves forwards and backwards. Her hands are resting on his hands, which are on her hips. She is cuming. I see her brown skin is glistening with sweat, her spine, her shoulder blades, the sinews of her behind gently exercising. A woman looks awesome from behind. I see Raj's cock is in her. It slips and slides in and out in such a pleasing fashion.
I hear him - Raj - grunting. He must be loving it. He has the perfect view of my sister. She is a little plumper than me - slightly shorter - but I've always envied her face, her dark eyebrows, her chest - 36DD - and her sensual, chubby voluptuousness.
I hear the jingle of her bracelets. 'Oh ha. Oh. Ah.' She slows down, she's tiring. 'Oh baby.' Suddenly she falls back. Raj is on top now and their heads are just a few feet from me and the open door. He's fucking her, missionary style, quickly, and she's cuming loudly, and passionately. It's enough to wake the whole block. Raj cums. 'Grrrr,' he seems to say. 'Oh baby,' Honey says. I am still looking. Did Raj see me? I remember myself and quickly dodge back into the corridor.
I am trembling. My breasts are engorged. I am hot between my legs. I scurry back to my bed, breathing fast, sort of drunk on what I've seen. I curl up on the bed, turn on the a/c and try to sleep. It's hard for me to drift off. I check my panties - they are damp; so wet in fact I take them off. I feel flush, as if ill. Maybe I should masturbate. Or take a cold shower. I think I might doze off finally, at last - then my bedroom door opens.
