In the Mango Orchard

Author's note: This story is in English but there are very few Hindi words in it. If you feel that comes in the way of reading, please stop now and find another story.

I hope you will enjoy this story. Please don't forget to vote and leave feedback after you finish it. Happy reading. :)

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It was the summer of '99 that we noticed each other. Bhaiyya had built up his body by going to the gym with his college friends and he looked nice and muscular, not the skinny boy I knew from my childhood. His face had also hardened a bit due to the protein diet he was on and the little chubbiness that remains with all of us from childhood finally left his face. Now it was all sharp and handsome.

He also started noticing me I think. When I wore my tight yellow salwar kameez once, I could see his eyes on me, looking all over my body. He thought I couldn't see him but I saw from the corner of his eyes the way he looked at me and how his hand moved to his chest, to caress himself. I wondered if he was thinking he could touch my breasts.

Little incidents like that built up until I knew I had his attention on me. Lots of times I could feel him following me with his eyes when he thought no one was looking. He also started brushing against me when passing in the hallways or going up and down the steps in our large family house. As the summer passed, the heat in his eyes and behaviour also built up until I wondered if he would do anything about it.

Every night as I lay in my bed and touched myself naughtily, I pictured bhaiyya coming up to me and touching me. Really touching, not the little brushes he had given me till then, even though that one time he had actually taken hold of my ass cheek briefly before letting go.

Then the brushings kept getting more and more. He couldn't pass me without getting his body in contact with mine. Then slowly, his hands started wandering. Once when taking down the big pot in the kitchen, I had climbed up onto the little parapet and he held me around my waist to steady me. The pot was taking a long time coming loose from all the other things stored on the upper storage area, and I could feel his hands slowly moving on me. He first cupped my ass in both his hands and squeezed gently, then started moving towards the front. I took a longer time with my task as I wanted him to touch me more. He did, by reaching around to the front and putting his hand directly on my mound through my clothes. Behind me, he buried his face in my round ass.

If at that moment, auntie had not shouted for the pot, I don't know how else he would have touched me.

After that moment, we both knew what was going on. I knew bhaiyya was interested in me in that way and he knew that if he touched me, I wouldn't tell anyone. His touching kept getting bolder and bolder. He started grabbing my front while passing, or giving a light squeeze to my boob. Each time he gave me a small secret smile, like only we knew what was happening.

I liked what was happening, but I wanted more. I wanted to explore with bhaiyya. I was not so naïve about sex but there was so much I didn't know. I had seen naked cocks but I wanted to touch one, and really see it. I wanted to know how I would feel when he really touched me, not these little grabs and touches while passing. I wanted bhaiyya to do something and take us somewhere so that we could give in to our passion.

The day came when I was wandering around in the mango orchard behind our house. I was picking some ripe mangoes for the chutney that we would make the next day and so was in the trees, picking the ripe fruit and putting it in a basket. I was a very good climber, as I had climbed these very trees so many times from the time I was a little girl. I thought nothing of leaving my dupatta down on the ground and clambering through the branches in search of the fruit.

After a while, I became aware of bhaiyya watching me. I met his direct gaze through the cover of the mango leaves and knew he had been there for a while. I had been stretching and moving from branch to branch in my pursuit for the mangoes and knew I had given him good glimpses of every part of my body in my salwar kameez without the covering of my dupatta.

As he met my eyes, he raised one hand and motioned for me to come down from the tree.

I hurriedly slithered down and bent to pick up my dupatta. He was right behind me when I straightened up. He took my hand and started pulling me along behind him.

"Bhaiyya, where are you taking me?" I asked.

I was not alarmed, I only wanted to talk to him because he seemed a little tense.

"Shh. Just follow me," he said, not stopping or turning back.

I meekly followed him because I knew wherever he was taking me meant that we would be alone and he would finally touch me like I wanted.

He took me to the caretaker's little shack and we went inside. Bhaiyya turned and shut the door as soon as we were inside. He searched for a key to lock it but when he didn't find it, he just moved a chair under the door handle to keep someone from opening it. Then he turned to me and came towards me.

He took me in his arms and just hugged me for a minute. A strong hug, like when we were children, before my breasts had popped out and come between us. It felt good as my breasts pressed against his hard chest.

"Oof, bhaiyya, your chest is too hard," I muttered.

He laughed and asked, "Does it press you too much?"

I sighed against his chest, not letting go of him and replied, "No, it feels nice."

He responded by tightening his arms across my back, pressing my poor boobs even more into his rock hard chest and driving the air out of me.

I played with him, trying to snuggle up closer and pressing into him more.

Then his hands started moving on my back, wandering up and down, finding the clasp of my bra and snapping it against my back. He moved them lower, covering the top of my ass and then put both hands on my ass cheeks and pulled me against his loins.

"Babli, you have grown up to be so beautiful," he said against my hair.

I smiled. I loved the compliment and I knew I was exciting him by my beauty and also by my sexy ways. My full boobs had kept him interested for weeks now and I knew he had wanted to cup my round ass so many times since he had felt its softness by burying his face in it.

We finally moved away when he guided me away from him and made me move towards a table against a wall. There was no bed in this shack, just a table with a pot of water on it and a couple of chairs. It was clean enough, but the atmosphere was of a lazy summer afternoon under the shade, with only enough light coming in through the dusty window panes to make us see each other as lazy shadowy shapes. No one had thought to clean the windows as it was only a place the caretaker used occasionally at night if he felt like resting.

As bhaiyya led me to the table in the corner, he moved the pot from it and settled it on the ground. Then he took my hand and told me to sit on the table. I faced him and climbed back on the table, settled my ass on the edge and sliding back. Bhaiyya took my knees in his hands and spread them a little, coming to stand between my legs. Then he started kissing me.

His mouth was warm and soft, not slobbery or hard. His lips came apart and he started taking my lips into his mouth and sucking on them. Little by little, as I got bolder he stuck his tongue between my lips and opened them, making his tongue go into mine and touching my tongue with his. It was beyond anything I had ever imagined. His hands were on my thighs, and I was clutching his biceps, both of us just concentrating on our first time of kissing each other. It was so erotic that I could feel myself getting wet down there and suddenly felt shy. I tried to wriggle away from him.

Bhaiyya stopped what he was doing and asked me, "What happened?"

I looked down and just kept quiet.

"You are shy?" he guessed.

I nodded.

"But you like this?" he asked.

I nodded again, keeping my eyes down.

"Then don't worry, just do what I tell you to do, okay? You will be shy the first time or even the first few times, but after that it will be okay," he reassured me.

I nodded and he took my chin in his hands and raised it, his mouth coming back to kiss me like we were. When he was sure I was kissing him back, he removed his hand and placed it on my waist. He started squeezing my waist and with his other hand, my thigh. I also started clutching his biceps as the emotions overtook me. We were kissing so intimately now, and his hands started moving to different parts of my body, wandering to my stomach and finally to my boobs. He started squeezing and pinching them hard. I moaned against his open mouth, trying to move away from his greedy hands. He softened then, massaging my boobs slowly and not pinching them anymore. I relaxed.

He suddenly put his hand under my kameez and started moving it up towards my breasts. He got stuck because it was too tight.

He stopped kissing me and said, "Move a little, Babli, so I can get my hand around your boobs."

I squirmed a little and moved my kameez a little and his hand pushed through to my bra clad boobs. He started kissing me again and his hand moved up over the cup and started pulling my boob out above the bra. It was really tight in there and he was struggling to do it.

"Bhaiyya, you will tear my kameez or my bra," I said in desperation, breaking away from his hot mouth.

He stopped his hand from what it was doing and extracted it. "Ok, then," he said as he moved back, pulling me with him off the table. I stumbled a little as I was not expecting it. He caught me in his arms and then moved back again. Bending, he took hold of my kameez and started to move it over my head. I instinctively raised my hands, as children do when their clothes are being changed. In an instant, before I knew what was happening, my kameez was balled in his hands and he was looking for a place to put it. Finally he just tossed it over his shoulder.

I felt naked in front of him, standing in only my bra and salwar so I moved my hands up to shield my boobs.

He looked and my action and a little frown appeared on his face. "No need to get shy, Babli, I told you," he said.

I bowed my head and just stood there in the same position.

He came forward a step and took me by my upper arms. He guided me back to the table and pushed me back against it. I wriggled into to my previous sitting position and loosely opened my legs myself this time so he could step in between them. He started kissing me again, his hot wet mouth demanding and firm on mine.

Slowly his hands removed mine from across my chest and his big ones replaced them. He took one boob in each hand, massaging like he had been doing before. Then he started removing my boobs from the bra cups again. This time they came out as there was no tight kameez to stop them. He started pulling on my nipples and pressing my boobs while kissing me.

I liked the sensations too much and I kept squirming as his hands touched my breasts. They almost felt engorged and a lot more heavier than before, hanging out from my bra. My nipples were like little hot buttons and so hard. When he pulled on them or rolled them between his fingers, I felt a current from there to between my legs each time. I was pushing my breasts into his hands and moaning into his hot mouth as the minutes wore on and he unmercifully kept up the assault.

Finally, my boobs started feeling tender and started to hurt. I put my hands on his biceps and started pushing him back. Bhaiyya resisted for a minute, trying to keep up his squeezing and massaging on my breasts, while still taking over my mouth with hot wet kisses. But I pushed against him and started moving my head from side to side so that he had trouble kissing me. His open mouth landed on my lips and on my cheeks and my jaw as I struggled.

"Bhaiyya please, it hurts," I said.

He didn't stop kissing me or touching my breasts.

"What hurts?" he asked against my neck.

"Your hands," I replied in a breathless voice.

He stopped caressing my breasts then and moved back. He started to unbutton his shirt and when it fell open, I could see his magnificent chest. It was hard and solid with just a little hair on it. My hands itched to touch him but I was shy. He continued opening the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. I wondered if I would finally get to see and touch a cock, but he didn't take it out. I could see it bulge in his briefs as he separated the parts on his jeans and moved them partway down his thighs. Then he moved back and took hold of me around my waist.

"It will hurt a little bit, Baby," he said, calling me by my childhood name given to me as the youngest member of the large joint family. "But it feels so good also, doesn't it?"

"Yes it feels good, bhaiyya," I answered. It did.

"To me too, Baby. It feels so good. See how you have affected me," he said, and taking my hand in his, placed it on the lump in his briefs.

I didn't know what to do. I just held my hand in the same way he had put it there.

"Press a little," he instructed, "but not too much. Gently."

I cupped his bulge and pressed my hand against him tentatively. It felt hot and hard and soft. His hand covered mine then and he pressed my hand against himself more, his hips coming in towards me. My hand was trapped between his hand and his briefs, cupping his member. He kept pressing against my hand, moving it a little, just brushing against him, while still pressing towards me.

"See what you do to me?" he asked.

I nodded.

He let go of my hand. "Then don't ask me to stop when I want to do the same to you, Baby. Let me touch your ripe boobs and squeeze your stomach and thighs and touch you between your legs also. I have been dying to do this for so many days," he said.

I nodded again. After that impassioned plea, I would let him do anything he wanted however much it hurt me. What was a little bruising and tenderness on my boobs when there was so much pleasure to be had?

Bhaiyya this time did not get back to kissing me. He made me lean away from him with my hands supporting me on the table behind me and reached around to open my bra from behind. Freed from their last confines, my boobs were exposed, pointing straight up. He looked into my eyes and said, "Let me lick and kiss your tender boobs. My suckles will act like a balm on your soreness. My poor, Baby. Maybe I am being too hard and rough with you."

With that he bent his dark head to my boobs open to him like an offering and started licking and kissing them. My hand automatically went into his rich dark hair and started clenching and unclenching handfuls as he licked, nibbled and sucked on me. He sucked on my boobs and my nipples thoroughly, taking hungry mouthfuls into his mouth and letting it out, then taking my nipple between his teeth as the last of it slipped out. Pulling on the nipple with his teeth, he bit gently, then moved closer and suckled on my breast like a small baby drinking milk. All the while, his hands roamed my stomach and my other breast, squeezing and pinching me.

The tenderness in my breasts rose to a gentle pain at this assault, but I didn't say anything, just biting my lips between my teeth and letting out small moans when it hurt a little too much. It was not like I was not enjoying it. I loved him to suck on my nipples. When he did that, I felt so aroused between my legs. I was getting so wet down there that I thought I would embarrass myself in a few minutes if he kept going.

Bhaiyya kept this up until I felt I couldn't take it anymore. Finally he pulled me back to a sitting position and started kissing me again hungrily. His hand was scrabbling at the tie of my salwar and I felt him get impatient as he couldn't find the way to open it. He stopped and looked down, concentrating on opening the cord. It had become entangled and he bent down to see what the problem was.

After a while, in his impatience, he shoved his hand between my legs, touching me directly on my pussy through my salwar and panties. I gasped, taken aback at this boldness and tried to move back. His other hand came around my back, holding me in place as he proceeded to paw at my pussy with his fingers. It felt really good after the surprise, but I was thinking of my salwar too.

"Bhaiyya, stop," I pleaded with him. "My salwar will get wet."

"So what? It is already wet," he replied, his voice hot and heavy with desire. His changed voice sent a shiver through me; I had never heard him talk in that voice.

"Please, I can't go home like that," I pleaded once more.

He moved away a little, taking my mouth in a kiss and saying against my open mouth, "You untie the cord of the salwar then. I have to touch you in there."

My fingers fumbled with the cord and finally it fell open. His hands grasped mine and pushed them out of the way when he realized I had it open. He immediately plunged his hand inside and brushed my mound. My pussy was always shaven or trimmed. This time it was freshly shaven and he started caressing me.

"Baby, you have no hair down there?" he asked, still caressing.

"No, bhaiyya. I shave," I informed him.

He smiled against my mouth and said, "It feels good. So smooth."

He pushed his hand deeper but my panties came in his way as he tried to touch my naked pussy. He didn't stop at the problem, just lifted me up with one hand around my waist and started pulling the salwar and panties down over my bottom and over my thighs. When he put me down, my bald pussy was open to the air and with my legs spread out to accommodate bhaiyya between them, it was gaping open. Bhaiyya immediately put his fingers down there and slid them in between my pussy lips. I was so slick down there with my overflowing juices that I felt that there would be puddles by the time I got up from that table.

Bhaiyya groaned as he fit his fingers between my slippery lips and started moving them up and down, wetting them thoroughly and spreading my wetness around. His breathing was heavy and he had stopped kissing me, his attention solely on what he was doing with my pussy. I was also breathing heavily and gasping by the sensations of his hands down there.

"Baby, you are so wet," he said. "Sopping, dripping wet. You want this so much."

He moved his fingers to the top of my slit, trying to find my sensitive spot. He took hold of the flesh there between his thumb and fingers and rolled.

I almost screamed and bucked up into the air. I brought my hand to clutch at his wrist to stop him, but he persisted, rolling my fleshy hard clit with his thumb and fingers and just pressing on it. We struggled like that... me trying to push his hand away and he holding it there and doing what he was doing. His strength was no match for my feeble attempts anyway, and he got his way.

"Let me get you to a shattering orgasm, Baby," he said to me. "I want to see you bucking and trembling and shouting."

I was close to doing just that as the torture on my sensitive clit continued. Whenever I had touched myself down there, I had only fingered my clit, sometimes pressing a bit against my finger, but what bhaiyya was doing was so new. I had never taken it in my fingers like that and rolled it and squeezed it.

Bhaiyya use his other hand to cup my boob and pinch at my nipples. He gave the same treatment to my nipple that his other hand was giving to my clit.

"Move your hand, Baby. I want to suck your other breast," he commanded.

By this time I was as tense as a drawn bow and it was impossible for my pleasure fuddled brain to offer any more fight. I did as he said and his dark head descended on my other boob, biting and suckling on my other nipple. The simultaneous pleasure pain built up in all my three sensitive points as I finally came, twisting and groaning and pleading with him to stop. My hips lifted off the table like he wanted me to and I bucked against his hand, my lips between my teeth in an effort not to shout out as my shattering orgasm filled me from the inside out. I felt like every nerve in my body was alive, breaking me into a thousand pieces and my blood flowing hotly and sluggishly to pool in the bottom of my stomach in the aftermath to the most wonderful orgasm I had had in my life.