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"Extraordinary throb: In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job, hold my hand as we move further. Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love. Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls. On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty. My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours. With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record. That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety. Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart. Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain. At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance. Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella. Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before."

Extraordinary throb:
In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job, 
hold my hand as we move further.
Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love.
Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls. 
On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty.
My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours.
With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record. 
That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety. 
Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart.

Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain.
At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance. 
Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella.

Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before.

Extraordinary throb:
In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job,
hold my hand as we move further.
Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love.
Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls.
On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty.
My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours.
With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record.
That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety.
Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart.

Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain.
At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance.
Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella.

Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before.

#nojotoenglish,#Throb

4 Love

Soulmate
by
Bijaya Ghosh

Radha was delirious. Leaving her in the bedroom, Mad came to the drawing room. The journey was short. But it had exhausted him. Reclining on the couch, he tried to shut his eyes though he knew sleeping was impossible. Alcohol had gone to Radha’s head. She was babbling. Mad couldn’t make out most of it. But hazily he could understand that Satya – her husband was not a regular guy. He maintained number of houses at different locations. He treated Radha as a costly artifact. She spent her days alone, tending flower pots. Like the dried petals of a protected rose, her youth had dried off in eternal wait… etc etc.
A string of contradictory thoughts had entered Mad’s mind. Part of him wanted to leave the house immediately, while Radha was still unconscious. But other half was curious. It was wandering. It was curious about man of the house. To own a spacious flat in the posh area of salt lake, would take many years of hard labor. What if he played the role of a visitor bee in the unconscious lady’s life? Wasn’t it a godsend opportunity; to have a paramour like Radha and enjoy the amenities free of cost.”

It was Mad’s first time at O2. Sanyukta – his glamorous classmate San--had dared him to meet her there. Madhusudan Dakua or Mad, though qualified for Electronics Engineering, did not have the intelligence to call that bluff. Armed with the stipend for entire month, he had waited the gate of O2 for one full hour. San was not there. It took one full
It took him one full hour to realize that it was one more practical joke played by his class-mates to test his IQ level. Though Mad had a JEE ranking of 40, there is a rumor the class. “Evaluators knew the paper belonged to a scheduled caste student.”
Mad was not aware that his peculiar IQ has ditched him once again. Radha wasn’t fully unconscious. She was at a crossroad---crisscrossing the border of consciousness and oblivion. At the border of a faithful traditional wife and a morally loose devil -may- care woman. How many pegs she had ordered? Two, three, ten? She was trying to recollect. Without recollecting, she couldn’t build a strategy. But hard as she tried, only patches of the evening came to her mind.
The mad urge of taking on Satya had brought her out of the house. Satya had termed her a dead beauty! He said, he needed the assistance of smart women—not a museum piece from the Eighteenth century. Yes, he called her an ancient museum piece—beautiful but dead!
That was the breaking point. Radha wanted to be anything but dead! The comment had unleashed an insane energy in her. In the evening she had taken a taxi and started for the pilgrimage of smartness— to one of the latest addition in the of map Bengali promiscuity – the O2 Disco -at the outskirts of Kolkata.
But at the gate of O2, her enthusiasm had evaporated. In the world of jeans clad westernized Bengali women, she felt like a total stranger.

“Who is with you with Ma’am”—the doorman asked.
“I am alone.”
“Ma’am you need a partner to enter this bar. It’s a rule.” There was a bit of uneasiness in the gateman’s voice.
The red streak at the parting of Radha’s hair, the full –backed old- fashioned blouse and the traditional handloom sari, all made her conspicuous amidst of scantily dressed high –voltage females who cat-walked in and out of the club in their sharp stilettos . She had started retracing her steps.
“Ma’am”
Radha looked back. It was gateman.
“Ma’am the man over there has also come alone. You two can enter together.”
As if on cue, the Youngman on the opposite side had crossed over.
Sharing a table with a complete stranger was not exactly something Radha was looking forward to. So she made an attempt in conversation.

“I am Radha – Mrs. Sreeradha Mukherjee. You?”
“I am Mad- Madhusudan- -second year Engineering .” His voice was not steady when he uttered his name
“You, a student?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Shouldn’t you be with friends?”
“I don’t have friends.” Mad answered with a sense of finality.

The disco light of O2 had created a dazzling darkness. People were dancing. Satya--her hubby, had a knack for dancing. Out of shape though, he was the first one to hit the floor at every conceivable opportunity.
The room was reeking of liquor. The waiter had left drinks on their table too. The conversation could not proceed much further. Suddenly, leaving Mad at the table, Radha entered the dancing crowd.
Things had became hazier after that. What had happened then? “Did somebody pour Beer on her blouse? Yes. Someone tried to hug her too. Instinctively Radha had slapped them. Suddenly she was the centre of attention. Suddenly there was a big chaos. Radha was trapped in that crowd.
Like the eternal rescuer Madusudan-Mad had freed her from the crowd. But she had already lost control. She was vigorously shaking.
As if to cool her excited nerves, waiter had filled her glass again. Radha had drank it at one go.

“Maam, you must stop now.”
“You go! I am not going --.”

“Maam –they may call the police. Your husband will come to know—there will be a big scandal! He pleaded helplessly.”
“Wh-o car—e—s?”
“I do. I am still a student. I entered with you. I may be rusticated, just for coming here.”

Reluctantly Radha kept a 1000 rupee note on the table and got up. But as she tried walking, lost her balance and fell on Mad.
Then there is a faint memory of entering a taxi and landing at her husband’s house. Taking keys from her purse Mad had opened the door. Nobody was at home. On the way, Radha had vomited. The cab driver asked for the damages too. Mad’s expensive shirt was spoiled. But he didn’t mind. In the bathroom, he washed it and kept for drying. The whole night was a nightmare. The sequence of events flashed before him eye like a movie script.

Putting Radha to sleep, Mad was sitting in drawing room and there he fell asleep. The sound of the clock got him out of his dream world. The clock struck five. Soon there would be light. With uncertain steps, he got up. He had to go—but he couldn’t leave keeping the front door open.


The bedroom door was wide open. Radha was sitting on the bed.
“Ma’am—I am going.”
“Why?”

“Why? “Why?” The question knocked Mad off. “At O2, we just met few hours back—you don’t even know me.” He babbled awkwardly.

“But you brought me home. Babysat me for the whole night. “
“You were not well. I couldn’t leave a sick person alone.”
“Then don’t go,” – losing all sense Radha cried out like a pampered kid.
“Ma’am- I can’t.”
“If you leave I will be dead. I want to live.”
“Ma’am – you are still not well. May be you should call a relative.”
“No. Please don’t walk out of my life. Last night, I have done lots of stupid things. But after a long time, I felt alive. Otherwise I was just a dead body- may be not ugly but dead. You are the only one who has treated me as a living human.”
“Ma’am please, please understand- I am a stranger.”.
“You are the only one who gave me a sense of belonging. Can’t you be my friend? I don’t have anybody to talk to.”
Something broke within Madhusudan. Suddenly the veil of anonymity was lifted. Radha was no longer an elderly housewife- but a lonely soul looking for recognition—pleading for acceptance just the way he did with his smart intellectual friends.
Age, status and social barriers were forgotten. Protective instinct rose within him. Lowering his head, he kissed Radha on her forehead and said next Sunday I will wait for you at the gate.

O2 is not the type of meeting places, that college students can afford. One has to buy at least a couple pegs to get entry over there. But it is one of the places where people don’t judge each other. Two lonely souls can meet here quite often, to breathe in fresh oxygen from one another. Here, Mad and Radha drank to each other’s pain and recharged their moribund spirit with the oxygen of life.


0 Love

"As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones. A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me. A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea. Enjoy. Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud *~*~* Part I *~*~* Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother. "Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips. Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?" Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you." "And what kinds of things might they be?" "You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?" "Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A." Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo." Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that? Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo. The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen. "You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child." "I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..." "I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen." "Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone." Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment. "It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special." "How so?" "You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo." Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis." "Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled. It was her very first bawoo. Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms. As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie. People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty. Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!" Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs. Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely. She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving. From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy. At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly. Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off. Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her. Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders. For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done. But they weren't done. Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly. "C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed." Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that. Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes. It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot. Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run. Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did. Bawoo. She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer. *~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~* Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin. They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense. Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes." "Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm." Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it. "Cat?" Richard finally guessed. Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say." Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'." Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again. Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast. The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy. "Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress. "Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head. "I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means." "Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed. Stupid "imu" puzzle. Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh." Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder. Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin. Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?" She had a point. Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point. Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach. By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee. Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats. Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip. Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half. Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit. He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee. "How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort. "Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them. This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly. "S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach." "That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now." They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company. Lizzie... and her fiancée. Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out. "I'm getting married." "Wah - huh?" His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married." "Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?" "Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip." "Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..." "You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach." "Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality." "C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge." It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?" "I haven't told her yet." "You called me before Mom?" "Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first." Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it. Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend. "C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?" He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice. Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first." But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast. Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better. They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late."

As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones.

A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me.

A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea.

Enjoy.

Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud

*~*~* Part I *~*~*

Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother.

"Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips.

Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?"

Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you."

"And what kinds of things might they be?"

"You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?"

"Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A."

Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo."

Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that?

Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo.

The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen.

"You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child."

"I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..."

"I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen."

"Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone."

Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment.

"It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special."

"How so?"

"You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo."

Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis."

"Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled.

It was her very first bawoo.

Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms.

As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie.

People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty.

Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!"

Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs.

Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely.

She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving.

From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy.

At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly.

Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off.

Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her.

Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders.

For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done.

But they weren't done.

Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly.

"C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed."

Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that.

Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes.

It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot.

Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run.

Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did.

Bawoo.

She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer.

*~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~*

Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin.

They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense.

Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes."

"Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm."

Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it.

"Cat?" Richard finally guessed.

Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say."

Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'."

Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again.

Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast.

The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy.

"Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress.

"Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head.

"I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means."

"Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed.

Stupid "imu" puzzle.

Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh."

Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder.

Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin.

Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?"

She had a point.

Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point.

Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach.

By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee.

Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats.

Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip.

Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half.

Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit.

He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort.

"Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them.

This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly.

"S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach."

"That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now."

They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company.

Lizzie... and her fiancée.

Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out.

"I'm getting married."

"Wah - huh?"

His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married."

"Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?"

"Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip."

"Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..."

"You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach."

"Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality."

"C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge."

It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"You called me before Mom?"

"Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first."

Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it.

Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend.

"C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?"

He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice.

Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first."

But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast.

Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better.

They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late.

 

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"Somebody asked me……. What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this? My answer to this question. Please read caption. - Raman Khosla"

Somebody asked me…….

What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this?

My answer to this question.

Please read caption.

- Raman Khosla

Somebody asked me…….

What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this?

My answer to this question.

First, we need to understand what is the meaning of the word personality, from where does this word come from; and what is the origin of this world.

Personality comes from Latin vocabulary, The word "personality" derives from the Latin word "persona" which means "mask".

A persona (plural personae or personas), in the word's everyday usage, is a social role or a character played by an actor. The word is derived from Latin, where it originally referred to a theatrical mask.

Meaning of word PERSONA

The particular type of character that a person seems to have, which is often different from the real or private character that person has.

Meaning of word PERSONALITY 

The special combination of qualities in a person that makes that person different from others, as shown by the way the person behaves, feels and thinks.

The whole thing is all about how people portray themselves in front of others.

In the olden times, when an actor played a role in a drama on stage, they wore different masks on their face as per the requirement of the plays/drama/role, for every different character they were playing they used a different mask.

What If you restrain and limit yourself behind hiding this word one personality...

Hiding yourself behind this one word PERSONALITY, you restrict and limit yourself; you are more than what you think but only if you don't limit yourself; if you try to know and understand a person or get attracted by someone on the basis of their personality then you are far away to know the reality and the depth of a person. Personality is a synonym of MASK. Ask yourself are you happy and satisfied to know a little bit of information or get attracted by someone's "persona" which is a Latin word meaning MASK. How many of you have seen the Hollywood movie "The Mask" which is a very good example of what I am saying. Now after reading this, I want to ask you to give yourself the answer to this question that are you still interested in someone's personality? When you want to connect or associate yourself with a person in any aspect, especially when it comes to relationship, I personally don't limit and restrict myself in one personality because I want to grow endlessly and for that I need different personalities which gives me the ability to explore the unexplored; from my childhood and up until now I have grown a lot and a lot of changes have taken place in me which is very beneficial for the betterment of my growth in order to go beyond in different aspects of life.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

Realization/truth is beyond your thinking and understanding because you give too much importance to your intelligence and smartness; always remember your intelligence and smartness is nothing but only a perception of your mind based on the knowledge and experiences you acquired from here and there.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

So Guys, I want to ask you something, what do you think? Are you still interested in someone's personality? Oh I am sorry I mean someone's MASK; Is someone's personality is enough for you, when you choose a life partner for yourself or you want to know more than someone's personality? Choose Wisely, otherwise you'll suffer enormously in a relationship; because what you find attractive today, maybe you'll get frustrated with it tomorrow or in the future because of the same personality. Look around yourself,relationships break easily nowadays, one of the biggest reasons people portray themselves as a very strong personality which is equivalent to EGO. Sometimes people are the slave of their personality and for them, it is very difficult for them to come out of that PERSONALITY/MASK, because they're stuck in I/ME/MYSELF disorder which is highly destructive for SELF, HUMANITY and RELATIONSHIP.

I was never only drawn or attracted to this one-word personality, it is important but way more to go, I try to understand the overall nature of a person in depth which includes everything.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

I hope this is useful to you.


@ramankhosla

#Quote #Quotes #Life #Love #Relationship #girls #Women

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"Lavish gift: Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift. I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam. You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college. You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester. In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me. With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me. 'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled. Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'."

Lavish gift:
Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift.
I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam.
You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college.
You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester. 
In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me. 
With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me.

'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled. 

Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you
Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'.

Lavish gift:
Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift.
I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam.
You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college.
You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester.
In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me.
With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me.

'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled.

Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you.
Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'.

#Lavish gift

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"Extraordinary throb: In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job, hold my hand as we move further. Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love. Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls. On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty. My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours. With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record. That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety. Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart. Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain. At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance. Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella. Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before."

Extraordinary throb:
In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job, 
hold my hand as we move further.
Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love.
Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls. 
On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty.
My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours.
With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record. 
That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety. 
Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart.

Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain.
At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance. 
Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella.

Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before.

Extraordinary throb:
In the rain, saunter with me sacking the umbrella from its job,
hold my hand as we move further.
Piercing the time of past, lets recall that rainy day and our lab that had built the initial bridge of our love.
Being a bully, I never used to do sincerely the experiments of lab that too in the company of girls.
On that day, when we had to measure the flow rate of venturi meter, I hadn't done anything except witnessing your aeonian beauty.
My eyes had witnessed those gorgeous and inquisitive eyes of yours.
With the end of the experiment, you had looked into my eyes writing the readings in my lab record.
That was the first time when a girl of my engineering college had dared to do so being aware of my notoriety.
Like the outside rain that had touched the glasses of windows, you had touched the beats of my heart.

Submitting the record, as all we had left the lab, holding the umbrella, you moved towards hostel with your friends and like a nomad who had got his address, I had walked parallel to you in bare rain.
At the entrance of your hostel, when all your friends had left winking at you, you had wanted me to take the umbrella for my return to my own hostel, the daring hero in me had proposed you for acceptance.
Coming closer and whispering the magical words, you had wetted yourself in rain covering me under the roof of your umbrella.

Getting my answer, I had felt an extraordinary throb in my heart that I had never experienced before.

#nojotoenglish,#Throb

4 Love

Soulmate
by
Bijaya Ghosh

Radha was delirious. Leaving her in the bedroom, Mad came to the drawing room. The journey was short. But it had exhausted him. Reclining on the couch, he tried to shut his eyes though he knew sleeping was impossible. Alcohol had gone to Radha’s head. She was babbling. Mad couldn’t make out most of it. But hazily he could understand that Satya – her husband was not a regular guy. He maintained number of houses at different locations. He treated Radha as a costly artifact. She spent her days alone, tending flower pots. Like the dried petals of a protected rose, her youth had dried off in eternal wait… etc etc.
A string of contradictory thoughts had entered Mad’s mind. Part of him wanted to leave the house immediately, while Radha was still unconscious. But other half was curious. It was wandering. It was curious about man of the house. To own a spacious flat in the posh area of salt lake, would take many years of hard labor. What if he played the role of a visitor bee in the unconscious lady’s life? Wasn’t it a godsend opportunity; to have a paramour like Radha and enjoy the amenities free of cost.”

It was Mad’s first time at O2. Sanyukta – his glamorous classmate San--had dared him to meet her there. Madhusudan Dakua or Mad, though qualified for Electronics Engineering, did not have the intelligence to call that bluff. Armed with the stipend for entire month, he had waited the gate of O2 for one full hour. San was not there. It took one full
It took him one full hour to realize that it was one more practical joke played by his class-mates to test his IQ level. Though Mad had a JEE ranking of 40, there is a rumor the class. “Evaluators knew the paper belonged to a scheduled caste student.”
Mad was not aware that his peculiar IQ has ditched him once again. Radha wasn’t fully unconscious. She was at a crossroad---crisscrossing the border of consciousness and oblivion. At the border of a faithful traditional wife and a morally loose devil -may- care woman. How many pegs she had ordered? Two, three, ten? She was trying to recollect. Without recollecting, she couldn’t build a strategy. But hard as she tried, only patches of the evening came to her mind.
The mad urge of taking on Satya had brought her out of the house. Satya had termed her a dead beauty! He said, he needed the assistance of smart women—not a museum piece from the Eighteenth century. Yes, he called her an ancient museum piece—beautiful but dead!
That was the breaking point. Radha wanted to be anything but dead! The comment had unleashed an insane energy in her. In the evening she had taken a taxi and started for the pilgrimage of smartness— to one of the latest addition in the of map Bengali promiscuity – the O2 Disco -at the outskirts of Kolkata.
But at the gate of O2, her enthusiasm had evaporated. In the world of jeans clad westernized Bengali women, she felt like a total stranger.

“Who is with you with Ma’am”—the doorman asked.
“I am alone.”
“Ma’am you need a partner to enter this bar. It’s a rule.” There was a bit of uneasiness in the gateman’s voice.
The red streak at the parting of Radha’s hair, the full –backed old- fashioned blouse and the traditional handloom sari, all made her conspicuous amidst of scantily dressed high –voltage females who cat-walked in and out of the club in their sharp stilettos . She had started retracing her steps.
“Ma’am”
Radha looked back. It was gateman.
“Ma’am the man over there has also come alone. You two can enter together.”
As if on cue, the Youngman on the opposite side had crossed over.
Sharing a table with a complete stranger was not exactly something Radha was looking forward to. So she made an attempt in conversation.

“I am Radha – Mrs. Sreeradha Mukherjee. You?”
“I am Mad- Madhusudan- -second year Engineering .” His voice was not steady when he uttered his name
“You, a student?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Shouldn’t you be with friends?”
“I don’t have friends.” Mad answered with a sense of finality.

The disco light of O2 had created a dazzling darkness. People were dancing. Satya--her hubby, had a knack for dancing. Out of shape though, he was the first one to hit the floor at every conceivable opportunity.
The room was reeking of liquor. The waiter had left drinks on their table too. The conversation could not proceed much further. Suddenly, leaving Mad at the table, Radha entered the dancing crowd.
Things had became hazier after that. What had happened then? “Did somebody pour Beer on her blouse? Yes. Someone tried to hug her too. Instinctively Radha had slapped them. Suddenly she was the centre of attention. Suddenly there was a big chaos. Radha was trapped in that crowd.
Like the eternal rescuer Madusudan-Mad had freed her from the crowd. But she had already lost control. She was vigorously shaking.
As if to cool her excited nerves, waiter had filled her glass again. Radha had drank it at one go.

“Maam, you must stop now.”
“You go! I am not going --.”

“Maam –they may call the police. Your husband will come to know—there will be a big scandal! He pleaded helplessly.”
“Wh-o car—e—s?”
“I do. I am still a student. I entered with you. I may be rusticated, just for coming here.”

Reluctantly Radha kept a 1000 rupee note on the table and got up. But as she tried walking, lost her balance and fell on Mad.
Then there is a faint memory of entering a taxi and landing at her husband’s house. Taking keys from her purse Mad had opened the door. Nobody was at home. On the way, Radha had vomited. The cab driver asked for the damages too. Mad’s expensive shirt was spoiled. But he didn’t mind. In the bathroom, he washed it and kept for drying. The whole night was a nightmare. The sequence of events flashed before him eye like a movie script.

Putting Radha to sleep, Mad was sitting in drawing room and there he fell asleep. The sound of the clock got him out of his dream world. The clock struck five. Soon there would be light. With uncertain steps, he got up. He had to go—but he couldn’t leave keeping the front door open.


The bedroom door was wide open. Radha was sitting on the bed.
“Ma’am—I am going.”
“Why?”

“Why? “Why?” The question knocked Mad off. “At O2, we just met few hours back—you don’t even know me.” He babbled awkwardly.

“But you brought me home. Babysat me for the whole night. “
“You were not well. I couldn’t leave a sick person alone.”
“Then don’t go,” – losing all sense Radha cried out like a pampered kid.
“Ma’am- I can’t.”
“If you leave I will be dead. I want to live.”
“Ma’am – you are still not well. May be you should call a relative.”
“No. Please don’t walk out of my life. Last night, I have done lots of stupid things. But after a long time, I felt alive. Otherwise I was just a dead body- may be not ugly but dead. You are the only one who has treated me as a living human.”
“Ma’am please, please understand- I am a stranger.”.
“You are the only one who gave me a sense of belonging. Can’t you be my friend? I don’t have anybody to talk to.”
Something broke within Madhusudan. Suddenly the veil of anonymity was lifted. Radha was no longer an elderly housewife- but a lonely soul looking for recognition—pleading for acceptance just the way he did with his smart intellectual friends.
Age, status and social barriers were forgotten. Protective instinct rose within him. Lowering his head, he kissed Radha on her forehead and said next Sunday I will wait for you at the gate.

O2 is not the type of meeting places, that college students can afford. One has to buy at least a couple pegs to get entry over there. But it is one of the places where people don’t judge each other. Two lonely souls can meet here quite often, to breathe in fresh oxygen from one another. Here, Mad and Radha drank to each other’s pain and recharged their moribund spirit with the oxygen of life.


0 Love

"As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones. A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me. A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea. Enjoy. Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud *~*~* Part I *~*~* Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother. "Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips. Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?" Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you." "And what kinds of things might they be?" "You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?" "Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A." Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo." Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that? Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo. The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen. "You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child." "I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..." "I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen." "Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone." Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment. "It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special." "How so?" "You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo." Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis." "Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled. It was her very first bawoo. Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms. As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie. People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty. Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!" Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs. Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely. She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving. From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy. At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly. Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off. Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her. Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders. For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done. But they weren't done. Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly. "C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed." Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that. Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes. It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot. Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run. Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did. Bawoo. She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer. *~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~* Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin. They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense. Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes." "Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm." Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it. "Cat?" Richard finally guessed. Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say." Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'." Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again. Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast. The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy. "Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress. "Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head. "I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means." "Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed. Stupid "imu" puzzle. Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh." Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder. Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin. Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?" She had a point. Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point. Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach. By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee. Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats. Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip. Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half. Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit. He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee. "How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort. "Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them. This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly. "S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach." "That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now." They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company. Lizzie... and her fiancée. Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out. "I'm getting married." "Wah - huh?" His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married." "Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?" "Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip." "Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..." "You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach." "Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality." "C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge." It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?" "I haven't told her yet." "You called me before Mom?" "Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first." Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it. Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend. "C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?" He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice. Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first." But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast. Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better. They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late."

As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones.

A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me.

A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea.

Enjoy.

Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud

*~*~* Part I *~*~*

Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother.

"Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips.

Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?"

Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you."

"And what kinds of things might they be?"

"You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?"

"Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A."

Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo."

Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that?

Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo.

The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen.

"You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child."

"I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..."

"I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen."

"Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone."

Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment.

"It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special."

"How so?"

"You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo."

Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis."

"Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled.

It was her very first bawoo.

Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms.

As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie.

People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty.

Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!"

Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs.

Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely.

She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving.

From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy.

At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly.

Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off.

Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her.

Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders.

For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done.

But they weren't done.

Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly.

"C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed."

Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that.

Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes.

It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot.

Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run.

Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did.

Bawoo.

She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer.

*~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~*

Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin.

They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense.

Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes."

"Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm."

Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it.

"Cat?" Richard finally guessed.

Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say."

Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'."

Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again.

Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast.

The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy.

"Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress.

"Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head.

"I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means."

"Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed.

Stupid "imu" puzzle.

Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh."

Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder.

Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin.

Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?"

She had a point.

Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point.

Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach.

By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee.

Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats.

Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip.

Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half.

Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit.

He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort.

"Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them.

This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly.

"S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach."

"That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now."

They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company.

Lizzie... and her fiancée.

Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out.

"I'm getting married."

"Wah - huh?"

His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married."

"Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?"

"Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip."

"Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..."

"You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach."

"Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality."

"C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge."

It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"You called me before Mom?"

"Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first."

Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it.

Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend.

"C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?"

He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice.

Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first."

But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast.

Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better.

They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late.

 

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"Somebody asked me……. What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this? My answer to this question. Please read caption. - Raman Khosla"

Somebody asked me…….

What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this?

My answer to this question.

Please read caption.

- Raman Khosla

Somebody asked me…….

What do you think about the word "PERSONALITY"? Why does one look for a personality which is more desirable and attractive in comparison to physical appearance? Is a person's personality really important for you? What's your take on this?

My answer to this question.

First, we need to understand what is the meaning of the word personality, from where does this word come from; and what is the origin of this world.

Personality comes from Latin vocabulary, The word "personality" derives from the Latin word "persona" which means "mask".

A persona (plural personae or personas), in the word's everyday usage, is a social role or a character played by an actor. The word is derived from Latin, where it originally referred to a theatrical mask.

Meaning of word PERSONA

The particular type of character that a person seems to have, which is often different from the real or private character that person has.

Meaning of word PERSONALITY 

The special combination of qualities in a person that makes that person different from others, as shown by the way the person behaves, feels and thinks.

The whole thing is all about how people portray themselves in front of others.

In the olden times, when an actor played a role in a drama on stage, they wore different masks on their face as per the requirement of the plays/drama/role, for every different character they were playing they used a different mask.

What If you restrain and limit yourself behind hiding this word one personality...

Hiding yourself behind this one word PERSONALITY, you restrict and limit yourself; you are more than what you think but only if you don't limit yourself; if you try to know and understand a person or get attracted by someone on the basis of their personality then you are far away to know the reality and the depth of a person. Personality is a synonym of MASK. Ask yourself are you happy and satisfied to know a little bit of information or get attracted by someone's "persona" which is a Latin word meaning MASK. How many of you have seen the Hollywood movie "The Mask" which is a very good example of what I am saying. Now after reading this, I want to ask you to give yourself the answer to this question that are you still interested in someone's personality? When you want to connect or associate yourself with a person in any aspect, especially when it comes to relationship, I personally don't limit and restrict myself in one personality because I want to grow endlessly and for that I need different personalities which gives me the ability to explore the unexplored; from my childhood and up until now I have grown a lot and a lot of changes have taken place in me which is very beneficial for the betterment of my growth in order to go beyond in different aspects of life.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

Realization/truth is beyond your thinking and understanding because you give too much importance to your intelligence and smartness; always remember your intelligence and smartness is nothing but only a perception of your mind based on the knowledge and experiences you acquired from here and there.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

So Guys, I want to ask you something, what do you think? Are you still interested in someone's personality? Oh I am sorry I mean someone's MASK; Is someone's personality is enough for you, when you choose a life partner for yourself or you want to know more than someone's personality? Choose Wisely, otherwise you'll suffer enormously in a relationship; because what you find attractive today, maybe you'll get frustrated with it tomorrow or in the future because of the same personality. Look around yourself,relationships break easily nowadays, one of the biggest reasons people portray themselves as a very strong personality which is equivalent to EGO. Sometimes people are the slave of their personality and for them, it is very difficult for them to come out of that PERSONALITY/MASK, because they're stuck in I/ME/MYSELF disorder which is highly destructive for SELF, HUMANITY and RELATIONSHIP.

I was never only drawn or attracted to this one-word personality, it is important but way more to go, I try to understand the overall nature of a person in depth which includes everything.

- Raman Khosla
©ramankhosla

I hope this is useful to you.


@ramankhosla

#Quote #Quotes #Life #Love #Relationship #girls #Women

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"Lavish gift: Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift. I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam. You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college. You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester. In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me. With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me. 'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled. Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'."

Lavish gift:
Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift.
I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam.
You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college.
You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester. 
In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me. 
With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me.

'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled. 

Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you
Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'.

Lavish gift:
Now I can call the watch that you had given me on that day is a lavish gift.
I have no opportunity in my hand to stop you, even if I tear some pages of answer sheet, you can't top in the exam.
You will be no more here to compete with me in exams of my engineering college.
You have qualified yourself for the medical entrance and the eminent word doctor will be your embellishment. The classes of first semester and the lectures, the labs are still fresh in mind. On the result day, I had been declared as the winner of the branch for the first semester.
In the tune of happiness, when my eyes had discovered you crying over the obtainment of second position of the branch. I had tried to calm you down. You were outstanding throughout your career and this mere defeat had troubled you. Time had fleeted, we all had sprinted through the activities of classes and lab. The second semester was ready to take our test of patience, hard work and dream. All branch mates appeared for all the papers and for the last paper before submitting my answer sheet, I had torn three pages before you could have stopped me.
With a thought that it was enough and you will come first, I smiled, but a slap on my face flabbergasted me.

'How can you do that, how can you spoil your career for me, leave your madness, I can't be your lover, I can't be your lover, I am about to leave this college to fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor?'you yelled.

Dropping tears, I unfolded that I was in love with you.
Making me wear your father's watch, you whispered,'keep it my friend, this is for your sincerity and innocence and this may be the token of our love, if we graduate from the respective field and still can discover the same innocence of love in us in future'.

#Lavish gift

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