Body of Words - 1
Inspired from vanilla4banana
Content Warning: This post is meant for adult readers only. It contains sexual themes and explicit descriptions of sex. The following content is intended for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered educational.
This fiction story series is different from other stories in After a Good Date. It is the closest to reality that I have written in a while.
This story is heavily inspired from vanilla4banana. This story needs quite a bit of context, my Wild Indica piece on her will be a great starting point (my initial interview covered her Reddit profile, which at the time has been suspended). While in my fiction stories I give a disclaimer that any resemblance to real-life persons or places is merely a coincidence, the parallels in this story are not coincidences, but are by design. I have her consent. This will be much shorter than my usual works, and will have only one image generated with Stable Diffusion, except for a cover image. I wish I could keep all the images that Yashna had sent me. They are too sexual for this platform. You can simply browse her profile and find plenty of visual content on her. However, I will leave you with a Reddit post of mine for some further context.
Disclaimer: This should not be considered as an endorsement. You should exercise caution and discretion while interacting with personalities online.
1
Life is unfair. Life is hard. And the world is a terrible place. Everyone has a personal struggle to grapple with, personal demons to tame, and personal fears to face. I’ll risk a cliché — you cannot let life happen to you. More often than not, we let go of our life’s steering wheel and hope that the road ahead doesn’t lead to the edge of a cliff.
There’s a twisted catharsis in seeing the road end, in worrying about the impending fall to death, and not doing anything to touch the steering wheel. It’s incredibly difficult to try to steer your own fate, to be the master of your own destiny. Mistakes sting. It is easier to blame luck, the circumstances around you, the system, to blame everything and everyone except yourself. Words are easy, but to actually steer your life, you need to do outrageous things.
And, sometimes, you don’t realize the absurdity of the things you have to do take back the control of your life.
It was an unforgiving midnight in December in Delhi. Yashna was shivering in the cold, but there was so much to do. Arun was taking his time. Yashna kept glancing at her phone, which was fixed on a tripod beside the bed. That evening, when she came to Arun’s place, she’d forgotten her charger. Arun didn’t use the same type of charger as hers, and for the last five hours, her phone had been used to click countless photos and take short clips.
For the entire five hours, Yashna had been naked. She was clicked from all possible angles, with Arun diligently moving around, capturing photos of each of her curves, crevices, and holes. There were photos of her spreading her legs and touching her pussy, and short clips of her fingering herself.
She was photographed on all fours, her ass pushed upward. Arun had used his saliva to showcase her 18-year-old pussy, a trick they had discovered, to make Yashna look damp in the photos and clips.
“What are you going to write today?” Arun said, taking off his underwear, finally becoming as naked as Yashna.
Yashna was scrolling through her pictures for the evening, critiquing each of them. In some, she looked too skinny; in another angle, there was an unflattering bulge in her belly, and in yet another, her nipples didn’t look erect. She was fidgeting with a black marker, opening and closing its cap.
Waiting for her reply, Arun squeezed his dick, eyeing the girl he had seen starkly naked countless times by then. He put his underwear away and walked up to the electric heater, soaking in some heat. The temperature outside had dipped to 10 by then. He knew that soon he would be on top of her, fucking her, working up a sweat. Yashna liked it when sweat dripped from his forehead onto her face. But then again, he didn’t know if she actually liked it. With Yashna, it was hard to tell what was real, and what was just for the show.
“I was thinking, ‘Single-Use Only,’” Yashna declared.
Arun observed her intently. She absentmindedly chewed on the back of the marker, her thumb continuously scrolling through her gallery, pausing only briefly now and then. Before they had even started with the first photo, she had made Arun write her digital pseudonym, “vanilla4banana”, across her chest. She was standing naked in front of him, with her arms akimbo, as she watched the name marked on her chest, Arun’s forearm brushing against her bare breasts, exciting her nipples.
“Where do you think I should write it?” Yashna asked, turning her body toward him. Her young breasts, perky and excited, faced him. Even after six months of doing all this, six months of fucking her almost every other day, her breasts still took his breath away.
“Ummm… Your stomach?” Arun suggested, caressing his dick.
Yashna looked down at her stomach and ran her hand across it. She sucked in her belly and stared at it, imagining how it would look to have ‘Single-Use Only’ written on her belly, a place where her womb was. Was her womb single-use only? Or was she someone who was meant to be fucked only once? She thought for a moment, convinced about the vulgarity of those words, the kind of vulgarity her followers liked, and nodded, “Yes.”
Setting the marker aside, Yashna reclined on the bed, her bare legs hanging off the edge. Her pussy, partially veiled by her light bush, was blatantly on display in her uninhibited pose.
Arun sighed. There was a part of him that wondered what life would be like if Yashna and he were a normal couple. Yes, he was 28 and a full decade older than her. But that would still have been normal, if not for what Yashna did. He wished he could tell her to stop writing demeaning things on her body. He wished that she stopped fucking eight other men for the sake of variety.
Arun was a doctoral student at DU. He had first seen Yashna during the fresher's party organized by her college. Arun was friends with one of the organizers and was hanging around the party, despite not being officially welcome. It wasn’t his first fresher party at that college, and it wasn’t the first time Arun was sheepishly ogling the young girls, freshly turned 18, walking around the campus with nervous energy. While every girl was in a group of girls or in a mixed group of guys and girls, Arun noticed a petite girl sitting alone at a table, scrolling through her phone.
She hadn’t dressed up for the event. She wore a pair of jeans and a plain dark blue T-shirt. The T-shirt was loose, making her look even thinner than she was. Her arms were long and delicate, her neck slender. She had tied her hair in a loose bun, exposing her beautiful, shapely ears. Arun couldn’t see her face from where he was standing.
Arun had never walked up to a girl and introduced himself. But it was different that evening. In that party, where the girls were 10 years younger than him, where each one of them would call him “sir”, he should have been able to muster the confidence to speak to one of them. It was his third fresher party, having spent a frustrating three years at the university, working on the same problem, which didn’t seem to budge. The girls, whom he had seen as innocent faces, had by then turned into fully grown women, prancing around the party in suave dresses. But Arun was stuck in the same place, his feet firmly sinking in the mud of time. In the days leading up to that party, he had gone through a phase which could be termed a crisis of faith — faith in himself.
So, when he saw that petite girl, sitting by herself in a pair of denims and a T-shirt at a freshers' party, with not a care in the world, he decided to walk up to her. What more could he lose?
It was on their sixth night together that Yashna told him about her project and plan for her adult life. They had just finished fucking. Arun had finished on her stomach, with most of his cum landing on her navel. He was caressing her navel when Yashna said, “I want to tell you something.”
“Uh-huh?” Arun said, caressing her cum-sticky stomach, grazing his softened dick against her ass.
When Yashna didn’t speak, Arun asked her, “What?” He raised his head, resting it on his palms, looking at her face.
“No, let it be. Some other day,” Yashna said, turning away from him, reaching for her phone. As she stretched to reach her phone, her bare breasts moved, her nipples grazed against the sheets. Arun cupped one of her breasts and asked again, “No, tell me. I want to hear.”
Yashna shook her head. She brushed aside the loose strand of hair from her face and unlocked her phone. They never turned off the lights while having sex. It was true the first time they had sex, and it was true that day.
Arun kneaded her breast, admiring how comfortable they had gotten being naked around each other, about touching each other in any way they wanted to.
“Come on,” Arun said, squeezing her breast, and shaking her.
“Ouch!” Yashna slapped his hand away playfully.
“Tell me, no,” as he said it, he placed his hand on her pussy.
Yashna kept her pussy with just the right amount of hair — sparse enough to see her bare pussy and thick enough to be felt in every touch, in every thrust. He loved feeling the soft hair around her clit. He immediately touched her at the place she liked the most — the top right corner of her labia, and started circling it.
“Are you hard again?” Yashna asked, not looking away from her phone.
Arun would often get startled at the straightforwardness of her questions when it came to fucking. One moment she would be this petite submissive 18-year-old girl in the bed, purring as she took his dick, and the next, she would tell him things like, “I think I should get my asshole ready to be fucked.”
“Tell me what you were going to say,” Arun asked her again, rubbing her clit vigorously.
“Umm…”
“Come on,” he said, his voice breathy.
He could see that she was losing interest in her phone. She had paused scrolling, and was instead looking at his hand touching her. Her stomach had collapsed, and with so little fat on her, he could see the outline of her ribs, each ragged breath easy to see.
Arun brought his head down, kissing her cheek. Then he moved to catch the skin on her cheekbone between his teeth, and gave her a gentle bite. Yashna dropped her phone and turned her head toward him.
He brought his lips to hers, licking them first, before finally kissing her. As he kissed Yashna, he rubbed her harder, her entire body shaking as a result.
“Oh…” Yashna moaned. She brought her hands to her breasts, rubbing her nipples, as Arun continued to work her pussy.
Arun wrapped his arm around her neck, and brought her closer, planting his lips on her neck. He started nibbling at her neck, then moved to kiss her bare shoulders, and started biting her. He then moved to her ears, licked her earlobe, and started swirling the top of his tongue around her ear canal.
Yashna moaned loudly, her body stimulated in three places — her pussy with Arun’s finger, her nipples by her own fingers, and her ear by his tongue.
“What were you going to tell me?” Arun whispered in her ear.
Yashna’s face had gone slack by then, her mouth gaped open, her eyes half-closed. Suddenly, Arun pulled away.
She winced at the sudden loss of pleasure. Unable to control herself, she placed one of her hands on her pussy and started rubbing herself. But Arun held her wrist and pulled her hand away.
Shocked at his actions and the torture of interruption in her pleasure, Yashna opened her eyes and said, “What are you doing!”
She moved to touch her pussy with her other hand, but right then, Arun held it too, and moved on top of her. He pinned her hands down, squeezing her wrists. He moved to be on top of her, his dick grazing against her sticky stomach, the stomach on which he had finished not so long ago.
He moved his hips, rubbing his dick against her stomach, as Yashna writhed, wanting to be pleasured, her pussy aching for a touch.
“I will not let you do anything until you tell me,” Arun said, between his breaths. It wasn’t easy for him to not start fucking her right then. He was hard again, which surprised him as much as it surprised Yashna. He wanted to enter Yashna right then, to feel her tight warm pussy, to fuck her, and to pump her hard. But he also wanted to tease it out of Yashna, tease out what she had stopped herself from saying.
“Please…” Yashna said, trying to get out of his grip. She moved her legs, trying to close them, wishing there was a way to rub herself just by closing her legs.
Arun kept quiet and moved his dick in the general area of her pussy. He could have entered her right then. He knew she was soaking wet, that her pussy would not offer any resistance to him. And he knew, once he started fucking her, he would keep going for a long time, much longer than usual, before he finally finished himself. At that moment, he wanted nothing more in the world than to fuck that inviting 18-year-old pussy.
But he waited.
“Okay, I will tell you. But please—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Arun released one of her hands and held his dick, entering her, burying his entire length in one hard thrust.
“Oh!” Yashna winced in pain and pleasure.
Arun moved his hips, pulling back and entering again with a hard thrust. He held both her arms and pinned them against the headboard. He thrust inside her again, shaking her entire body, making her moan loudly.
“I…” Yashna started speaking.
Arun began fucking her, restraining her arms, ensuring he maintained a rhythm. He would rub his pubis against hers, feeling up her pubic hair, feeling the warmth and sliminess of her pussy.
Yashna pursed her lips, her eyes closed. She tried to move her arms, but Arun was too strong for her. She let herself be fucked but also tried to form the words, to express herself, to finally tell Arun what she wanted to say.
Liked what you’ve read so far? Why not tell a friend about it? The Referral Program at After a Good Date is a great way to help this publication grow, and with rewards along the way. The first reward starts as early as 3 referrals.
That evening Yashna had told Arun that she wanted to sell her pictures and videos online. She showed him her research. She showed him the platforms where she would create her presence.
“Are you sure about this?” Arun finally managed to ask. He was still processing the fact that the 18-year-old college student wanted to pose naked and sell her images. Yashna nodded, putting her phone away. She had shown him the short note she had typed on her phone.
She was to take the online moniker of vanilla4banana. She had checked on Reddit, Redgif, X (it was called Twitter then), and Discord. That name was not taken.
In her notes, there were content ideas — photos with vanilla4banana written on her body, clips of her having sex, and a short paragraph for her biography.
“This will be dangerous,” Arun said. Yashna was sitting naked on the bed, her thighs glazed with fresh cum, her stomach caked with the cum from the previous time he had fucked her.
She was just 18, he thought, and she wanted to pose naked for everyone. Arun wasn’t a stranger to such accounts. Before he met Yashna, he frequented Instagram and X, stroking to thirst photos of women dressed in tees meant to accentuate their cleavage, posing suggestively, or clips of them pouring water on their tee shirts to tease their nipples. Then there were accounts that looked outrageously fake and offered video calls for INR 1000.
But to imagine Yashna doing it, and on a much more raw scale. Unlike those women, who were still just influencers, his girlfriend wanted to be a peddler of online porn, an adult entertainer. He knew that men paid for such things, that money will be decent when compared to the investment required. But whenever he scrolled past accounts claiming to offer such services, he always assumed they were just scammers. But Yashna, the girl he had been fucking for the past week, who had made him cum in ways he didn’t know he could, would be real.
He was still processing things when Yashna got off the bed and walked to her college bag. She took out a black marker and handed it to Arun.
“Write it here,” she said, running her hand across the top of her breasts. As she finished saying that, she got down on her knees, offering her body, offering to be marked with that name for the first time.
Arun took the marker from her hand and looked at the 18-year-old naked girl, on her knees, asking him to write a name on her chest, a name that would become her online identity, an identity she would use to sell her nudes, to talk with strangers who would jerk off to her.
He took a deep breath and looked at her bare breasts. Her nipples were still rock hard, her breasts so perky that he wished he could suck them again, instead of writing on that area. As he started writing on her skin, Yashna giggled, alien to the feeling of the marker nib rubbing against her skin. She pushed her chest out and held her breasts down as she was marked with a name she carries even today.
vanilla4bananaIf you have reached this far, I am going to make a presumption that you liked the work here. I have plenty of content available here for free, and that has been possible only with the generosity of my readers (like you). Please take a moment to consider supporting After a Good Date. As you can see, there are no ads here. I do no generate from the sheer number of views on my posts. I do not have a paid subscription tier here on Substack. More than 80% of my work here is free, for everybody (18+, of course) to enjoy. However, the images that you see here, have been generated through a laborious and computationally intensive method. And the writing here takes time and energy. To keep this publication running at this standard, I need your help.
Please consider supporting this publication by either joining my Patreon page, or buying one of my ebooks from Gumroad or Amazon. Every ₹1 that you send toward this publication, helps me make the reading experience here better and sexier. Please and thank you!
On that cold December night, as Arun entered her, he touched her stomach, running his hand across her smooth skin. The temporary marker left no indentation, of course, but those words felt alive.
“What are you doing? My phone doesn’t have much battery left. Just start,” Yashna said, placing her hands on both sides of his waist, urging him to start fucking her.
Single-use onlyHe looked at those words as he fucked Yashna. Yashna moaned loudly, disproportionate to the pleasure she was feeling. Arun knew that because, in the six months he had fucked her countless times, Yashna would not start moaning until he hit certain spots inside her. But that evening, she was in a hurry to record the money-shot.
She had arrived an hour late at Arun’s place because she was busy earlier. She had been busy sucking the dick of a man more than twice her age, with a gut twice her size. Dilip was 41 years old, married with two kids, had a receding hairline, a hairy body, and an incredibly hairy pubis. He was fat, with the bulk of it concentrated around his gut. His biggest distinction was owning an empty flat in the same building where Yashna lived, a flat where Yashna could record herself sucking his dick, or getting fucked by him.
“But these pictures and clips do so well,” Yashna had remarked when Arun asked why she had to fuck a man who was conventionally unattractive, especially to an 18-year-old petite girl like her.
The videos she made with that man had an appeal Arun couldn't deny. Yashna had recorded many pictures where she would be on her knees between Dilip’s hairy thighs, playing with his dick. His dick wasn’t particularly small, but his huge gut, hairy thighs, and an untrimmed bush made it look small. And yet, Yashna sucked him vigorously, making sure she was seen enjoying it. Those pictures and videos gave an appearance that Yashna was hungry for cocks — as long as you could get hard, she will let you put it inside her.
As he fucked her that evening, his raw hard dick inside her pussy, he wondered how she was fucked by Dilip earlier. Arun would surely see at least some of the content posted later. He looked down at her pussy and observed his dick going inside her. For a moment, he was in the room when Dilip was inside her.
Yashna had told Arun that Dilip liked to fuck her from behind. He had seen some clips of it — his huge gut hovering over Yashna’s petite body. Dilip’s thrusts didn’t seem hard, but his sheer size gave the content a sexual appeal that was hard to put into words. It looked wrong, and maybe that was the appeal.
“Can you turn off the recording?” Yashna suddenly spoke, her tone almost conversational. It was a hard switch from the sexual moans, the seductive winces, and embraces she was engaged in just moments ago.
Arun stopped fucking her. He squeezed one of her breasts before pulling out. He walked up to the tripod and stopped the recording.
Yashna sat up on the bed, tying her hair. Her breasts jiggled as she did so. It wouldn't be the first time in six months that Yashna stopped having sex after she got the recording she wanted. Maybe someone somewhere had asked for a certain video, and that was all.
Yes, Arun could ask her to lie down, and she would oblige. She would even moan but would also try to squeeze his balls somehow. She would use one of her sexiest tricks in her bag — “You can cum inside me this time,” she would say. That always made Arun cum within seconds.
That evening, though, Arun didn’t want all that. He could go online, look at her content, and jerk off. After all, in many of those pictures, it was him inside her, him fucking her from behind, him filming her as she touched herself with “fuck toy” written on her torso.
Yashna got off the bed and went to the pile of her clothes. She started dressing herself. Arun hadn’t lost his hard-on, but he knew it wouldn’t completely go away until he jerked himself off.
“I won’t be coming here tomorrow. I’ll spend some time with Yash and then go to Gautam’s place,” Yashna said, clasping her bra.
“Okay,” Arun said, sitting back on the bed.
When she had worn her T-shirt and jeans, she asked him, “Do you want me to blow you?”
Yashna was amazing with her tongue. She had this way of swirling her tongue on his dick head while massaging his balls. And right before he came, she would open her mouth wide, smiling, waiting to take his load in her mouth. And when he finally came, Yashna wouldn't waste a single drop of his cum. She would swallow and smack her lips as if she had something delicious. He didn’t know if she made other guys cum the same way or if she swallowed all eight other guys. He had never seen any picture or clip of her doing it.
He could never ask Yashna that. It would complicate their relationship. But wasn’t it already complicated? There were eight other men who spurted their cum inside her regularly.
“What happened?” Yashna had to ask again, because Arun was quiet for far too long.
He shook his head, “Nothing. And no, I’m okay. Text me whenever you're coming back.”
She collected her phone and started putting her things back in her bag.
“I’ll send you some photos and videos to edit,” she said.
“Yeah, sure,” Arun replied. Editing them involved blurring her face and maybe applying some standard filters to make the images more flattering. Arun had been doing that for her since the beginning of all this. In return, Yashna gave him 5% of whatever she made in a month, and of course, he got to fuck her often.
Yashna was completely dressed soon, her oversized T-shirt and loose jeans would never let anyone know that she proudly posed with the words “Single-use only” written on her, that she fucked nine men, that hundreds of men paid real money to get their dick pictures rated by her, that she posed in certain ways for a price.
She was about to leave when Arun said, “Listen, the day after tomorrow, can we watch a movie, like in a theatre?”
Yashna paused for a moment before saying, “Sure.”
After a Good Date is a reader-supported publication. There is no paid-subscription here, and more than 70% of all my stories are entirely free to read. Each of the posts comes with images generated through a tedious process of experimentation and of course, with considerable computational resources.
The only way I can keep doing what I do here at or beyond the present scale, is if you support my work. Every rupee of support from you goes back into making the reading experience here better and more sexual. If you like the kind of desi sex stories that I do here, please consider supporting my work.
You can support my work either by joining my Patreon or by one of my digital products from my Gumroad store. Many of my published books are available at Amazon too! And if not anything, please consider subscribing to After a Good Date. It is free to do so, and also supports the publication in its own way
How do I know all these details? How do I know about Yashna and her men? How do I know what Arun feels when he fucks her? The things I know about Arun, he shared with me himself.
He told me over a couple of drinks, many months after the evening I have been talking about all along in the story. At that moment, Yashna was asleep in a hotel bed, tucked into a thick white blanket, with only her bare feet and shoulders visible. Beneath that blanket, she was completely naked.
We had ordered our third large bottle of whisky and some appetizers to nibble on after Yashna had fallen asleep. It was close to midnight, and we had skipped dinner. Time had flown by surprisingly quickly.
Arun and I were in our pants for the first time in many hours. As we waited for the drinks to arrive, we attempted to make conversation. It was their first time in Bombay, so finding safe topics wasn’t too hard. But it's difficult to find neutral ground when you've seen a man's dick, his asshole as he fucked a woman who had your dick inside her just moments ago, and the face he made as he came.
I answered the door when the bell rang. In retrospect, maybe I should have just taken the bottle from the attendant at the door. But I let him in. Arun seemed a bit flustered, noticing the attendant's lingering gaze at the woman sleeping on the bed and the two men in the room. The scenario was easy to decipher — two guys and a seemingly naked girl asleep on the bed, as easy as 2+1 = 3. The attendant quietly set down the food, bottle, and a bucket of ice. I smiled at him as he left.
Arun began pouring the drinks. Of the three of us, he had remained the most sober. As I sat down, I offered him my pack of cigarettes. I had insisted that one of our rooms be a smoking room. All evening, it had only been me smoking. I wasn’t even sure if Arun smoked, but I had to at least offer him a cigarette to find out. After sharing the intimacy of a woman, it was the least I could do for him.
He smiled and took a cigarette from the pack.
“Do you think she’ll wake up from the smoke?” I asked, offering him a light and then lighting my own cigarette.
He shook his head, still smiling. “I think she’ll be asleep for a while after what we've put her through.”
He was probably right. She must have been exhausted. After all, Yashna had spent the entire evening being passed between two men — one who loved her, and the other, me, merely curious to find out the point beyond which she breaks, to witness her la petite Mort.
Continue Reading
Make sure you are subscribed to "After a Good Date" to have the second part delivered to your inboxes right when it is published. You can join my Patreon to unlock the interview with u/vanilla4banana along with many other kinky benefits.