[sonalsinghsl*t]

Clint's detection of my presence was made known to me by him. As a couple weeks of our acquaintance continued, and as we got more acquainted through his escorts of me and others for shopping trips and the like, he would converse with me about the girls dorm in which I lived, and American girls with whom I studied. ONe evening he asked "do you listen in them when they are having sex too?" "Too?" I replied. "As in, as you have done with me over the last two weeks." Sensing I could not be hiding it any longer, he rattled off all the ways that he knew. As a combat veteran and member of the Seal forces his observational powers were astounding. I have learned that men of that experience have a way of sensing things as if to be having the eyes toward the back of their head. I was busted and flush red with embarrassment. I had done some kissing and petting and hand and mouth play with boys, but never spoke of things sexual with any man. May seem strange to readers here, but it is sometimes harder to speak the words of doing sex out loud than it is to just do it sometimes. Perhaps it is a cultural thing, but my heart was racing and in my throat and my mouth went dry. That was the only dry part of me otherwise. I perspired and, for the first time in my life was likewise flush with anticipatory wetness down there that I could feel. He convinced me to go to his small yard area for a drink. Everyone else was asleep so I agreed.

Upon sitting I crossed the legs and squirmed ever so slightly to give relief or adjustment to my uncomfortable panties. His questions over our rum drink continued on the sexual, and he again made me confess to listening. I added that I watched the younger girl for signs (that I had heard of) of post-sex soreness in the thigh and groin area and believed myself to have seen them in her. He spoke of his dominance over her and his transformation of her from shy virgin to near sex slave. At this point, though squirming wet of panty for half an hour prior, I had my first visions of being with him sexually. These are very forbidden visions - the have your older brothers drown you in the bathtub type of forbidden (not literally, like some middle eastern girls endure, but close).

After the relaxation that had once started to set in, the tension and high heard rate returned in me. The tension rose further when he asked what my mother would think if she knew that I knew that he was giving love to two of the staff and failed to report it. "I . . . I. . . I don't know" I reply. "What would she think if she found out you were listening to me many times." "I. . . I . . . Umm. . . I . . . I think she would have you fired" I shot back. "I have been fired before. What would happen to you?" "I . . . I . . . life would be over. School in the U.S. would be out. She would try to marry me off or just cut me off from the family." He stood over me, extended a hand, into which I instinctively put my trembling hand, pulled me up into his strong arms, and half joking (but also half coldly serious) said "then you better keep your fucking mouth shut about this." My entire body trembled such that he could feel it. He wound his strong hand through the back of my jet black hair to steady my shaking head, gently fought through my last second urge to turn my face away, and pulled me into his passionate kiss. At that point I was the puddy in the hands of the artist, and I hungrily slurped at him. I felt his biceps, his back, ran the fingers through his hair, and felt his full body against mine. His next statement, which I recall so clearly was "don't worry Soni, I know you are a virgin. No matter how much you beg, I am not going to fuck you." And it continued from there.

Caio for now,

Soni.

p.s. more lips soon.