He is a lot younger than me and he looks like a very fit 25 year old. Suseela was the one to tell me that he was really 19 and a student 6 years younger to me. That part didn't bother me and I found it only increased my attraction for the man. His ancestry and he has the classical looks, which I find most appealing. He has loads of dark, curly brown hair with a hint of gray at the temples. Probably his most attractive feature is his sexy, smoky eyes that melt my insides every time he looks at me.
He is Kamesh.
Kamesh is 5'9" and ~65 Kgs stone, and being an athletic person, he is very fit. I truly love his muscular, rugged look and will admit that sometimes I get extremely wet just dreaming of his lean, muscular body. This is odd for me as I really don't admire too many people but am finding out that I am more attracted to younger men. They seem to have far more charisma than other men and have grown out of the typical, youthful exuberance where they look at every woman as a notch on their belt.
Kamesh wasn't like the teenage men, and he treated a woman with respect and dignity.
Not long after meeting Kamesh and falling deeply for the man, I started masturbating. Not that I didn't do it before meeting him, I just began doing it on a regular. It made me feel perverted and dirty, but I grew to accept the sessions as a wonderful way to relieve pent up tensions.
And Suseela kept reassuring me that it was only natural for women to do it, and in fact, so did all men.
Maybe I should explain more about my anatomy. When I get thoroughly aroused, my pussy swells and my lips open up like a budding flower. This of course, exposes my most sensitive thingie that women can't stop thinking about, and I have great difficulty walking.
My knickers will slide inside my openness and it gives me the most uncomfortable feeling. Not that I am complaining about this occurrence because I'm not. It is just that whenever I move a muscle after that point, it's as if someone is touching me down there.
Well, I should get on with my story. Not long after joining the whore club in the Village and getting into 'commercial sex', I became infatuated with Kamesh.
He was the nephew of my best friend Suseela who was not in whoring but enjoyed most of my men and women fuck teams. Although he was the immature so one thought, he was the virile fucker, as well as guy who I loved the most in many years.
Recently was with him for four days and three nights on the road and it garnered me the perfect opportunity to get to know Kamesh better.
After the first or second trip, I think I fell in love with him, if not love then I was drawn by his powerful, male magnetism. It left me wondering how he had lured me that night in the bath tub fucking -- the inevitable voyeur game he made me get into while he fucked Suseela in broad daylight daring fully aware of my presence in the vicinity.
And now I know why I fancied Kamesh more than any of the young men or men in my life and on this trip, I even faked a leg injury.
Since Kamesh was the young 'athletic superman', I picked an injury that would require him to give me massages and rubdowns. I chose a hamstring injury knowing it was a lot like a back injury where you couldn't tell how serious it really was. As only a young woman can do, I convinced Kamesh that I was hurting too badly to attend any therapy session other than in my bedroom of our hotel.
We would set up the time for fake therapy and my heart would almost burst whilst waiting for him. Kamesh was always the perfect gentleman when he was in my bedroom and attended to my fake injury in a professional manner.
I found the times he was with me were the most exhilarating and exciting of my life and it deepened my affection for him.
I wanted desperately to wear clothes that were revealing and take a chance for once in my life, but I couldn't.
When Kamesh came calling, I wore my most unattractive college uniform, which concealed everything I wanted Kamesh to see.
When he touched my leg and massaged it like the true sex specialist he was, he understood how it affected me inside.
With just me and Kamesh inthe room, I wanted to fling my arms around his neck and kiss the man to death. I cursed myself for not having the courage to carry out my fantasies.
I did however remove my bra and knickers, which got my blood racing, but surely he didn't reaHymae what I was doing. What a cow I was for thinking I could entice such a lusty man into betraying his oath with the age and getting into sexual bouts so young. But surely he must have noticed my nipples, which were so fucking hard they were like beacons sticking out in the night.
The fact I was not reserved and not raised in a very conservative family merely had me sitting on my bed with my heart in my throat trying not to suffocate. It's funny how ones heart can block oxygen going to the brain and a person gets so silly and confused when the world closes in.
Lord knows I wanted to rip my shirt open and beg Kamesh to take me, take my titties. "Can't you see how hard my nipples are and how much they need your hot mouth to suck them?" I wanted to yell at him but could not find the nerve.
How many times did I fantasize about Kamesh ravishing my body, kissing my tits and feeling my burning flesh?
I wondered. My dreams and fantasies are the main reason I started to masturbate using my very own fingers to relieve my pent up passion. Every time things quieted for the day, my mind went to work and I would get soaking wet.
Then I would have to this happened until I was doing it almost every day.
Okay, if the tVatsala were known, every day and some days I did it twice. But I smile with the funny suggestion that it's never more than that.
I guess I am at a loss to figure out my true feelings and emotions.
The satisfaction I get from the self-gratification is earth-shattering and if Kamesh only knew how much he meant to me, I reasoned he would become my lover.
That's how my dreams transpired until one day my closest friend got me talking. Suseela knew me well enough to know that something was bothering me and pestered me until I told her all about Kamesh.
Time and time again she probed into my subconscious mind until she knew every incriminating detail of how I felt about Kamesh.