The One About Vani - Part 1
The One About Vani - Part 1
A Story about a Nubile Girl, too thicc to Ignore
When I started writing After a Good Date, I didn’t think I’ll keep it going for more than a month. At that time, I started with a story that affected me the most, about my Workplace friend, Nisha. It was supposed to be a one off story, to die down as the countless blogs that I had started in the past. However, it blossomed. From writing about Nisha, to my sex-cation with Arunika and the one night stand with Prerna, my experience of sharing my stories with the people of the Internet has been fun and hot. For the last couple of weeks, I had been busy. Monsoons have always been good to me, and I have had some really fun encounters (more on them in later posts)
This story is about Vani. I have not been in touch with Vani for more than 7 years, and I’d forgotten about her, if not for the Dropbox pictures of her that I found a week back when setting up my new computer. Those pictures brought back some happy memories and a hard on, which I could only let go after I finished inside my new girl. I was in college, barely 18 when I first started talking to Vani. We hooked up almost 5 years later. My story with Vani coincides with the timeline of “A School Lust Done Right”.
I hope you enjoy reading about Vani as much as you have liked my other posts. Happy Reading!
In all these years, I have been with women of different types, of different ages, of different colors and height. When I was growing up into a man, learning the ropes of how to be with a woman (they were girls at that time), one girl shaped about what I enjoy doing with women. It took a lot of retrospection to understand how Vani shaped my desires. My story with Vani has two distinct parts — the innocent SMS ‘hot’ messages and the real hot and sweaty meet-ups.
I first came in touch with Vani when she sent me a friend request on Facebook. I was just settling down in college, for the first time enjoying free and fast Internet. Being online on Facebook was something that everybody did back then (it was 2010). Those days, I would stay online on Facebook, doing nothing other than browsing through profiles or picking up innocuous arguments on comments.
I remember Vani sending me a Friend Request, late at night. I’d accepted her friend request almost instantly, even before browsing through her profile. There was this term that we used for people like me. I don’t know if it’s core these days. But I was a ‘despo’ back then, and a girl sending me a friend request late at night, was among the best things that could have happened to me.
I was browsing through her profile, getting to know her, when she sent a ‘Hi’. I replied back, still trying to glean as much information as I could about her. I hadn’t gotten that many fake girl friend requests, but being pranked by your friends with a fake girl’s account wasn’t far fetched.
Vani was from my school. She was yet to finish high school. Her profile had low quality pictures (most pictures back then were low-quality), mostly group photos, of her in school uniform. I had to look at multiple photos to ascertain which was Vani, since her profile picture was a generic landscape.
I saw a few known faces in Vani’s albums, including, Ananya, who was 2 years junior to me, and eventually my ‘first’. When I saw her in the picture, I was a little unnerved, considering that me and Ananya didn’t have an amicable end to a teenage relationship. She and Ananya seemed close, with multiple photos of the duo.
All the while I was browsing through her pictures, Vani had managed to send me a couple of messages. She asked me if I knew her, she asked me where I was studying and “how is college life” (one of the most vague questions out there). It was past 1am, but I don’t remember being tired.
I asked her my questions, about how she knew of me (she had heard about me from a friend), in which class she was in, and how old she was. She told me she’d just started class 11, and that she was 18 years old. She was older than her classmates, because she started late in school. Later, I learned that she was older than her classmates because she had failed twice. It didn’t matter, especially, when she was lying naked next me.
The Courtship
Before we ended the chat on Facebook, we exchanged numbers. It was her idea, because she was chatting from her desktop computer and she wanted to lie down and message me. We exchanged ‘Hi’s on SMS, and as the days went by, we started texting constantly, almost every 10 minutes, talking about one thing or the other.
It’s been more than 10 years and I have no memory of what we talked about. We were very different people. I had a different lifestyle and different goals in life. We were 800 km away. She was still in school, talking about ‘homeworks’, and I was in college, talking about lectures and assignments. She had no idea of what was going on around the world, never read a line of newspaper, and I was browsing through every free article of NYT that I could get my hands on. And yet, we texted.
I remember one particular exchange of texts though. It was late at night, and we were talking about what we wear to bed at night. I told her that I usually sleep in a tee and pant, pretty much what I wear around the hostel. She told me that she cannot sleep in the clothes that she wears at home. Every night before going to bed, she would change into just a camisole (I didn’t know what a camisole was then, I had to look it up. The Google Images, were very suggestive, which dialed my already horny-self a little higher).
She told me that she lived with her father. Her mother had passed away a couple of years back, and she had an entire room to herself. So, she would lock her room, and would sleep with just the camisole. I asked her about her pants. She texted, “I am not wearing any, right now.”
I wish it were not 2010, and I wish I could’ve asked her to send a picture of her. But I had to wait 6 years for such pictures to come me. When she told me that she wasn’t wearing any pants, I felt the blood rush to my dick. I was in bed, but I was not alone in the room. I wished I could touch myself, but all I could do was rub my dick through my pants.
I texted her back, “I wish I were there, and you would be lying beside me.”
She didn’t reply for a while. I remember being anxious, of losing touch with her, of overstepping my boundaries. There would have been consequences if she had shown those texts to her friends, who still had social circles overlapping with my social circle. All my fears were in vain, because Vani texted back, “Tell me more…”
I don’t remember our exact conversation, but I remember cumming. I took my phone to the dingy hostel washroom, locked myself in and jerked off while typing with one hand the things I would want to do. I imagined her face from her group Facebook photos, of her in the school uniform. A sexual memory of Vani that stands out for me is her telling that she will sit on my lap facing me. She didn’t say the word ride, and I wasn’t experienced enough to tell her I would love her riding me like that.
Once that sexting barrier was broken, we continued doing that almost every night. I cajoled her to send me pictures on Facebook messenger. She didn’t. She said that her friends have her password (which I didn’t find weird at the time). Without pictures, I soon ran out of ways to imagine Vani. I lost interest in our hot messages. And, soon after, I lost interest in texting her at all.
Our communication was down to just Good Morning and Good Nights. We barely talked on the phone, because in the time that she was away from home, I wasn’t free. And she was too scared to talk at night, for the fear of being heard by her father. She told me that her father would drink every night, and would go to bed angry. Even as an 18 year old girl, she was scared of being slapped around by her father (because it happened for innocuous reasons). She told me that she wanted to study hard, so that she gets out of her home into a decent college. In fact, that was the reason why she had initially connected with me on Facebook. She wanted me to guide her.
I remember laughing it off. From what I knew of Vani, there was nothing I could have done to help her. She was too slow technically to be helped, and moreover, there was nothing much to guide in entrance examination. She should have left sexting guys far away, and focused on solving MCQs. I told her that much. She didn’t take it well. She was … annoyed, to say the least. She stopped texting me, and whenever I asked her what she was doing, her reply was one word - ‘Studying’.
Around that time, I had started talking with Manisha. We met in the library from time to time, and even though we were far from anything sexual or romantic, it was just more fulfilling to talk with a smart girl in person, than with someone who was avoiding me because I told her the truth. And that’s how me and Vani fell out of touch.
The New Facebook Account and Vani
When I came to Bombay in 2015, with me I brought the baggage of a doomed love story. Our love fizzled out very quickly, as I got used to my new life, a new friend circle, and an entirely different way of looking at women. When I broke up, I was terribly hurt, and I wanted to delete the person I had been till that point in life. So… I deleted my Facebook account and changed my number.
I vowed to stay off Social Media, to get my focus back, till I was ready to chase love again. One night, I couldn’t sleep. It was 5 am, and in that moment of weakness I signed up for Facebook again. It was fun and sad and nerve-wracking to see what my friends of past had been up to. I visited my exes’ profiles, went through their public pictures, to make a story about what they had been up to in all this time (8 months) that I had been away. I finally slept after jerking off to the profile picture of one of the girls from my college upon whom I had (have) a crush. When I woke up next morning, I had 7 friend requests. One of them, was from Vani.
I accepted her friend request and sent her a ‘hi’. She replied a couple of hours later, elated to hear from me. She told me that she’d missed me. She tried to find me, and at first she thought that I had blocked her. She tried calling my number, but it was switched off. She asked me where I was and what I was up to. I asked her the same.
After almost 5 years since we had connected, Vani hadn’t changed much. I learned that she dropped a year after class 12. But she only could get into a half-decent engineering college. So, she was 23 and still in 2nd year of a college, which would probably not place her anywhere. She asked me if she can call me.
We talked over the phone. I had forgotten her voice, since we had talked so little back in 2010. We talked for a while on the phone. She told me about her hostel, and her overall schedule. Then, she asked me if I was single. I said yes. I asked about her, and she said that she had recently broken up. I decided to keep my break-up away from the conversation.
For the next couple of weeks, we texted constantly on WhatsApp. After I came back from work in the evening, and finished my running, it was a routine to talk with Vani and smoke cigarettes. We would talk about her dreams and aspirations, her difficulties in college and about boys and girls. Vani told me that her last relationship had left her scarred, emotionally and physically.
Her ex-boyfriend was 2 years older than her, and worked in the same city that she went to college in. They were dating for about 2 months, when he asked her to check-in to a hotel. She told me that she was uncomfortable with it. It was an amusing conversation. I love hearing the things the girls think about when the are deciding to have sex for the first time, or having sex for the first time with a new guy.
I asked Vani why did she check-in if she was uncomfortable.
“Because he would have left me otherwise” she said. Well, he did leave her afterwards, but with a bit of drama here and there.
I asked her how was the stay. We were on a call when I asked her that, and I could feel the discomfort in her voice. It was the first time I had taken off my pants while talking with Vani on the phone. I was smoking a cigarette, and touching myself as I imagined Vani gingerly walking alongside this guy, walking up to the reception and filling in her details.
“Do you really want to know?” She asked me.
“Of course, I do. And I think you should talk about it, even if you feel uncomfortable. It will make dealing with it easier” I said. It’s bad advice, but I was caressing my dick, of course I wanted to here about her first time.
“It was… good.” She said.
“Ummm? How good?” I asked her.
“It was not his first time, but, it was awkward to start with” She said.
“First times with anyone are awkward” I said.
“You seem to know a lot about it?” She asked.
I laughed. I didn’t know much about it, but a bit of lying doesn’t hurt. “You can say that” I said.
There was a pleasant silence for a bit. I broke the silence, “So, it was the one and only time?”
“No, we checked in 3 times afterwards” She said.
“And they were all good?” I asked, “You know you can be open with me. It won’t be the first time we’d be talking about sex” I added.
“They were” she said after a pause. “But the stays were always too short”
Vani liked getting fucked, but she also wanted lie down naked with him. She told me she loved running her fingers over his body. She loved how hard his chest was, and how his dick would twitch every time she would brush past it. The guy on the other hand, was mostly business. He would fuck her twice or thrice in the 6-7 hours they were together, would ask her to blow him, and would make it point to cum on her face.
“Did you like having cum on your face?” I asked her. I opened her WhatsApp pfp as I asked her that. I imagined her face glazed with cum.
“I didn’t dislike it. It was warm, and sticky, and I loved the kind of face he made when he came on my face.”
I was silent, lost in my imagination, jerking myself, looking at her rather simple and innocent face, wanting to cum on it.
"So, anyway… it was all good, the check-ins. A little scary, since we had to lie every time we checked in. Pretended to be cousins, coming to the city to give exams.”
I slowed down. I couldn’t have cum, because if I did, I would have had to finish the call abruptly, which I didn’t want to do. “What happened? Why did you two break up?”
She sighed, “Many things. But, it was more to do with the last time we checked in.”
She took a pause and told me what had happened.
They’d checked in, and after fucking her and cumming on her face, he lit a cigarette. It was the first time he’d smoked in front of Vani. Vani hated cigarettes and alcohol. Cigarettes reminded her of father’s drunk evenings, and all the shouting and embarrassment associated with it. She had told that to him too. He had vowed to not smoke.
She told him to not smoke in the room, and asked if he had been lying about it all along. He didn’t care. He just moved around the room, naked and smoking the cigarette, not answering any of the questions that Vani was asking. She got more and more angry, and walked up to him. She held his wrist and tried to take cigarette away from him. It was then, that he pushed her. He pushed her hard on the floor. She lost her balance, and fell on the floor.
She was naked, and the cold floor made her feel alone. When she tried to get up, he pushed her down on the floor with his foot. He put the foot on her thick belly, and told her to stay like that. She was in shock and couldn’t move. She wanted to slap his foot away, but instead, she just stayed there, naked and immobile on the floor. She saw him smoke a cigarette, with her below his foot.
He asked her what was her problem with cigarette. He bent down on the floor and brought cigarette close to her. He told her to smoke it. She refused. He held her by the throat, and squeezed it as he asked her to open her mouth. There were abuses, which she censored out.
She kept struggling, refusing to open her mouth, and that’s when it happened. He took one last drag of the cigarette, and snuffed it on her breast. She screamed in pain, but he covered her mouth, and held her down in her place with his weight. With his hand still on her mouth, he pried open her legs, and rubbed her slit. She had started crying by then, the cold hotel floor had started hurting. But he didn’t care.
She was far from wet. But he didn’t care. He pushed inside her. It hurt her more than it hurt her the first time she was entered. She screamed, but his grip on her mouth was too strong. At some point, she gave up struggling. She let him fuck her, as she lied there, with breast still stinging from the cigarette burn.
When he got up, she realized that he had cum inside her. She felt his wet cum dripping between her legs, warm and sticky, just the way it felt on her face. But she felt it inside her too. She was too shaken to think. He held out his hand, gestured her to get up. She did as he said. She searched for her clothes and started putting them on. It hurt when she put her bra on. It hurt when she walked and when the tee shirt grazed her cigarette burn on her breast. She was too scared to look him in the eyes.
She was silent while they checked out. She was silent when they took the auto to her hostel. He kept talking, trying to hold her hand. She didn’t resist, but didn’t reciprocate either. When she got off the auto, she didn’t even say goodbye to him. Instead of going inside the hostel, she walked. She walked more than a kilometer to go to a medical store that she doesn’t visit. She waited till it was nearly empty and asked for the pill. The guy on the counter was kind enough not to judge her, but she felt the stare of the girl in the counter there. She smirked as she accepted Vani’s cash. Vani didn’t wait for the change.
It was a difficult week for her, the pill wrecked her body. She didn’t get her period that month. Even after the pill, she was scared that she might be pregnant. She couldn’t tell her roommate what was wrong. She missed her classes, she failed her tests. It was only after she started getting her period, that she got the courage to narrate what had happened to her roommate. The guy kept calling her, sometimes 20 times a day, but she didn’t pick up. He tried to meet her in front of her hostel, but she didn’t respond to him when he approached her. She just kept walking, with her eyes on the road. The guy stopped trying after a month.
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She stopped talking abruptly. I let her take the pause. I reached out for a cigarette. My dick wasn’t hard anymore. It was the first time that someone had narrated abuse to me. I didn’t know how to react to it. Looking back, that narration taught me things. Whenever I am rough with my women, in the back of mind, is the picture of Vani, lying on the floor helpless and being fucked dry. There’s a very thin line between abusing a woman and dominating her for pleasure. That line sometimes takes a lifetime to learn.
“I am so sorry to hear this” I said. “I am glad that you chose to get out of that kind of relationship”
She cleared throat, “Yeah. I am blessed to have good friends, especially my roommate.” I would hear a lot about the roommate in future, and even though I have never spoke with her, she had been a good influence on Vani, especially in regards to her sleeping with me (Her roommate had insisted on taking the picture that you see in the beginning, and many such pictures for me).
“Do you smoke?” She asked.
“No, I do not” I said, and lit my cigarette.
We moved on to talking about other things till it was time for me to get dinner. That night, while texting, I asked her if she still wore a camisole to bed. She said she does. But she had to wear a pant, because she shared her room.
“I wish I could see you now” It was around midnight, and I intended to end the conversation at that message. Instead, sent me that photo.
“Your wish is my command” she captioned it.
The picture made me sit up. I had forgotten how luscious Vani’s lips were. I had forgotten how thicc she was. The camisole threatened to slip off, and the fact that she didn’t adjust it before taking the picture and made my dick twitch. Her short pant had ridden up, and showed most of her thighs. I imagined grabbing them, hard, to leave marks on her. I looked up, and saw how the camisole ended just above the place where she described getting cigarette burnt. I couldn’t see where it was, but I imaged licking my tongue around it. I wanted to mark her too, but in the ways that she’d fondly remember later.
I had forgotten to reply to her while staring at the picture.
“Hi?” She texted back
“Sorry, I was distracted looking at the picture”
She called me.
“Was the picture too much?” She asked.
“I think it was too little” I said. She laughed.
“What are you doing now?” She asked me. I was touching myself.
“You don’t want to know” I said.
She laughed again, “Okay. More tomorrow.”
After I got off the phone with her, I looked at some porn, especially of thick Indian women, and jerked off. I imagined Vani’s voice, telling me to cum inside her. I imagined sucking her nipples, biting her, and making her wince in pain as I came inside her.
It would be a month of jerking off to her pictures and her voice till we met in person.
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