Chapter 2

“mmMMMM…” I whimpered. Both of us were unsure if it was a response to ask her to stop.

I didn’t pull her hand away. Not someone to give up, Jafit continued even more avidly.

After a few minutes, I moaned in exasperation and tried to turn.

Jafit held my tit and held me down. Neither of us were forcing. I wanted to turn but only half heartedly. Jafit pulled me down but not sufficiently pushing that I couldn’t squirm away from her grip.

After a very brief lull, Jafit carried on with playing with my tit and had me squirming.

A wave of overwhelming feeling gushed into my groin and I felt I might climax. Conscious of where we were I shuffled hastily and turned around. As a result of my movement, Jafit’s hand came out of my shirt from the front. I nestled my head on her thigh, having turned face down. My tits now squished into the sheet. My one hand stretched on the side and the other rolled around Jafit’s hip.

I could not see, but I felt as if Jafit was smiling into her book. Her hand calmly rolled into my hair and caressed me on the back of my head. My hat lay rolled off to the other side.

After that day, her Jafit played with my tit whenever I was lying next to her or in front of her. It was as if she loved to hold onto the warm, smooth flesh.

I loved it. I loved the attention.

Later that summer, one afternoon, we found ourselves on Mount Carmel for a picnic. I was lost in my novel, lying face down with my stomach against the blanket. My elbows dug into the blanket, holding my book in front – if only I would look up, I would gaze out over the sprawling town below and the sea stretching beyond, but I was engrossed.

Jafit lay beside me, positioned on her side, perched on her elbow. Facing towards me, her head looked towards my calves, and beyond towards the garden. Her feet pointed toward the town I was watching in between my pages. When her elbow finally gave out, she shifted closer, resting her head on my legs. Her smooth cheek nestled against the soft flesh of my calf. A moment later, she tossed aside the phone she had been fiddling with and casually placed her palm on my butt, just above my skirt.

If I had twitched, I did not notice. Surely Jafit must not have noticed it either. But my butt did squeeze for just a fleeting moment before relaxing again. Jafit’s hand just stayed there until eternity and I went back into the depth of my book.

About twenty pages later, Jafit’s hand was on the inside of my skirt. I had not noticed her hand move, maybe because it had landed at the same spot where it was when on top of my skirt. Under my skirt, my thin panties only partially covered my cheeks so her hand was half on the fabric and half on my warm skin, probably the fleshiest part of my body.

Even when I realised Jafit’s hand was inside my skirt and on my butt, I hardly responded one way or the other. My mind wandered briefly away from the book but the story drew me back and I disregarded Jafit’s antics.

Jafit only paused momentarily before playing with my butt cheek just as she was used to with my tits. She grazed her fingers around, spread her palm around the entire cheek, then squeezed, rolled her hand around brushing my skin with her knuckles and then squeezed again. Jafit was loving the feel of my butt cheek and she played with it like she owned it. Indeed she did. She owned me. I loved her.

Somewhere along the line, she had managed to push my panties into my crack so the butt cheek was available to her unencumbered. The only friction provided was by my cotton skirt which lightly scraped the back of her hand.

The contact may or may not have been sexual on her part, but it had me excited sufficiently. Even though I was aware Jafit’s antics were just that, antics. She was horsing around trying to get me away from my book that I was engrossed in earlier. She had succeeded in doing that long ago. Now all she was doing was playing with my butt.

I kept the book down and tried to pull up on my elbows to show her that she had succeeded in getting my attention out of the book. Jafit pressed her hand on my butt cheek to express her desire. The pressure of her hand wasn’t strong but just a signal for me to stay put. I acquiesced and leaned forward again. This time I folded my arms under my head and laid my cheek on my knuckles looking sideways towards the other side.

Jafit moved to my other butt cheek and politely moved the remainder of the panty into my crack before taking control of the warm mound. Without haste she played with my butt cheek for what seemed like an hour, lazily moving from one cheek to the other only to return to the first. It wasn’t like she was massaging or squeezing hard, she was playing with it, just as she was used to with my tit.

I must have been doozy because I went in and out of a nap trying to ignore her hand under my skirt. If I squirmed and climaxed I couldn’t say. But that I loved it, was as clear as daylight. To the both of us.

From then on, the playground for her hand had expanded. Before that day, her hand would find itself inside my shirt only when we were sitting close enough for her hand to go inside. After that day, it was indeed easier to find one playfield or the other. The nonchalance of it was so bizarre that if it were to be explained to someone, it would be impossible to rationalize. It’s just that it felt natural, we felt close, we were best friends and had grown up together. Between us, I was hers. Hers- to pet, to play, to fondle, and to love.

Jafit was five foot seven, dark black hair, deep eyes, and lightly caramelised skin. She always smelled the most loveliest of perfumes. Her ittars were magnificent and moody. I usually stuck to her like a magnet lost in her perfume often.

Jafit, her mother had once told me, meant, “the most beautiful of all.”I had wondered then, ‘how perfect! Jafit was indeed the most beautiful person I had ever known.’

On one sleepover night, on her bed, she sat with her back slouching against the wall, and a pillow behind her lower back. I was between her legs facing forward, hugging her with my arms behind her loosely. My head rested sideways on her pillowy boobs- a couple of cup sizes bigger than mine. Her hands moved lower on my back, through the elastic until both her hands were inside my pj and holding my butt cheeks, one in each hand. Her hands just cupped my butt and didn’t move for a long while.

Our mutual warmth was comforting. Her perfume delicately enticed me to nuzzle in deeper and after every few moments I’d move ever so lightly.

Both of us lost in our own thoughts, held on to each other. It must have been an hour, or maybe a bit less, Jafit cupped my butt cheeks as far lower as her hands could reach and pulled me upwards from my butt. More of a nudge than a pull. I tried to process the signal and turned my head towards her face.

Her deep eyes invited me to move up. A second nudge on the bottom of my butt cheeks complimented her invite.

I shuffled up. Her hands never left my butt. Our eyes remained locked for the next couple of seconds. And then I was eye level with her. Our breaths merged ever so lightly.

I leaned in and planted my lips on hers. She kissed me for the first time. My arms flung back around her head and hers remained where they were but squeezed thankfully. We kissed leisurely as if we had been doing this for years. As a matter of fact we were, our souls had been attached to each other for years.