My Aerobics Instructor - Pt. 3

It’s January again; and today marks eight months to the day since I arrived in Seattle , Washington .   After living in and around Detroit , Michigan all my life; the Emerald City , as Seattle is known, and the surrounding mountainous terrain, is a welcomed and wonderful change.   Even now, eight months later, the majesty of the Cascade and Olympic Mountains still takes my breath away.   Today also marks the one year anniversary of my first lesbian sex experience; an anniversary I’d just as soon forget.   Not necessarily for the act itself; but rather the individual woman, or more specifically, women, that I got involved with.   Not to mention the nightmarish situation that I ultimately found myself thrust into.  

I was supposed to have met Sherry at a motel down by the Detroit Airport at around nine-thirty that evening last March, for what was supposed to be another night of raw and wild sexual frenzy.   My plan, on the other hand, was to put an end to our purely physical relationship before one of us got hurt.   However, I never made it to the motel that night, because I found myself caught up in what seemed at the time, to be the most erotic and intense sexual encounter of my life.   Sherry’s eighteen year old daughter Michelle, and her eighteen year old friend Reagan, seduced me in Sherry’s office at her health club, and the two of them almost literally tore me apart; sexually ravaging me practically to the point of rape.   And I loved every minute of it!!   It was unlike any physical pleasure I had ever known and when it was all over, I felt as though I had been loved as never before.   And I wanted more!!   That’s when I heard the most shocking and horrifying confession of my life; and my world turned upside down yet again.   Only this time there was no pleasure, only pain.  

I don’t remember much of what happened after I fled the health club that night.   I only remember darkness and silence all around me as I drove aimlessly through the night.   Being so distraught and frightened, I didn’t even bother to get dressed; I just ran!   It wasn’t until I reached the home of my ex-husband Gerald, of all people, and his lover Frank, that I realized that I had nothing on but the soft white towel that I had wrapped around me after I showered.   Gerald and Frank now lived in Port Huron , which is about an hour’s drive north of Detroit .   As I said, I really don’t remember much other than the fact that I was terrified, sick to my stomach and that I needed to get as far away from the situation as I could.   To my surprise, Gerald and Frank were absolutely wonderful and welcomed me in with open arms.   Gerald led me upstairs and I took another long hot shower.   As I stood under the hot water, I realized that my asshole and pussy were throbbing with pain and that my body was covered with bites, hickeys and deep fingernail scratches.   I was in the shower for nearly half an hour.   When I got out, I found a sweat suit, bra, underpants and socks lying on the guest room bed that Frank had laid out for me to wear.   They belonged to his sister.   I dressed quickly and went downstairs.   Gerald poured us all some brandy and I proceeded to tell them the whole story from the beginning.   It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do.   I was especially dreading Gerald’s reaction to my wild encounter this evening with Michelle and Reagan. Gerald of course knew them both well, for they were two of Whitney’s; our youngest daughters’, best friends.

Much to my surprise yet again, they were both very understanding.   Gerald even seemed happy for me that I had managed to step over the homosexual threshold, just as he had.   I think he felt that it brought us closer together.   And while he was not exactly thrilled about my having sex with Michelle and Reagan, he pointed out that they were both over eighteen and that it was entirely consensual.    When I finally finished the story, concluding with the phone call with Sherry, Frank immediately frowned.   Being a psychologist, he went on to explain that this might be a very dangerous situation and that I did the right thing by running.   Sherry and Michelle are obviously very sick and demented individuals and there is no telling what they might do.   Now I was really frightened!!    So much so that I could hardly hold my brandy and I had to swallow it all in one gulp before it sloshed all over me.   Gerald and Frank sat up with me all night and before we knew it, the sun was coming up and it was almost six-thirty in the morning.   Gerald and Frank showed me upstairs to the guest room; both gave me a big hug and then went on to bed.   I slid under the covers and despite the fact that my mind was still racing, I immediately went to sleep.

When I woke up, the digital clock beside the bed said six-forty-five.   I tossed and turned until about seven, unable to fall back asleep and then finally concluded that fifteen minutes was the best I could do.   I tiptoed downstairs as to not disturb Gerald and Frank, and when I reached the kitchen I was shocked to find both of them standing there.

“What are you two still doing up?”   I asked.   “I thought you’d gone to bed too.”

Gerald and Frank exchanged a confused look and then looked back at me.   I was still so much in my head that I hadn’t realized coming downstairs that it was dark outside.   I also didn’t notice initially that they were both dressed differently than they had been.   I had assumed that it was six-forty-five in the morning, but as it turned out, it was six-forty-five in the evening.   I had been asleep all day.    The three of us had a good laugh; one I desperately needed and then I asked if I could use their phone.   Gerald showed me to his home office and I phoned my assistant Stephanie on her cell.   Stephanie seemed very elusive and disturbed, almost anxious to get off the phone with me.   All she would say is that I needed to call Mr. Morgan, the President of the company immediately.   My stomach filled with butterflies.   I called Mr. Morgan, who was still in his office and he told me that he had received a very disturbing video via courier that day, along with some even more disturbing photos.   I suddenly couldn’t breathe.   Ten minutes later, I wandered back into Gerald and Frank’s kitchen, pale as a ghost, shaking like I’d just seen one and sobbing uncontrollably.   Gerald held me for a few minutes until I regained some of my composure, then I informed him that I had just been fired.   I went on to explain that evidently Sherry’s office is monitored by video cameras and that the entire encounter last night between Michelle, Reagan and I was caught on tape, and that somebody had sent it via courier to my boss that morning.   They also sent some very explicit still photos of Sherry and I having sex in my office in the middle of a business day.   My career was ruined.   And if that wasn’t bad enough, Gerald brought another horrifying possibility to my attention:   If Sherry and Michelle had sent a copy of the video and pictures to my employer they could very easily send copies to Gerald, Jr., Monica and Whitney, our three kids.   Now I really wanted to die, because I knew that Sherry had contact information for all of them.   And sure enough, my worst fears were realized a few days later when I received phone calls from all three of my children.   They all were distraught, disgusted and never wanted to see me again; especially Whitney, who flat out told me that she hated me with a mortal passion and would never ever forgive me.   Ever!   As far as she was concerned, her mother was dead.   Then she hung up.

For the next two weeks, I sat on Gerald and Frank’s sofa wanting nothing more than to die.    Gerald and Frank contemplated checking me into a mental hospital and having me put on suicide watch.   They took turns keeping watch over me and trying to comfort me.   In the meantime, they had gone down to Detroit and packed up all my clothes and personal belongings, and to inspect the completed renovation work.   I never would have imagined in a million years that Gerald and I could still be so close, such good friends and that he would stand by me and support me like this considering what happened in our marriage.   Frank had also warned me from the very first night that for me to go home could be very hazardous because there was no way of knowing just what Sherry and Michelle were truly capable of.   And sure enough, Frank’s intuition proved correct, for he and Gerald found a copy of the video playing on my bedroom television set and the pictures of Sherry and I were pinned up on the walls all over my room.   I had forgotten that Sherry had a key to the house.   Gerald called a locksmith, pulled down and burned all the pictures and destroyed the tape.   He made sure he armed the security system, which Sherry did not have the code to before they left.   But as they were getting in their car, they were stopped in the driveway by a group of my neighbors, who all handed them copies of the video and pictures, telling them that they would call the police and have me arrested if they ever saw me again.     

Despite all of this, I somehow managed to hold on.   I realized that life goes on, and that somehow, this would all eventually pass.   I began communicating with my therapist by phone, and she too had received a copy of the tape and pictures.   But she, like Gerald and Frank, was sympathetic and understanding.   She concurred with Frank that Sherry and Michelle were both mentally disturbed and dangerously unpredictable, and that I should stay as far away from them as possible.   She also believed, just as Gerald and Frank did,   that my children would one day come around and see their way to forgiving me.   But for now, they just needed time.   Gerald told me that he and junior had actually been communicating again via email.   That gave me real hope for the future; something I desperately needed right now.   Another thing that Gerald, Frank and my therapist all agreed on is that it might be in my best interest to pull up stakes and move away to start a new life.   Gerald offered to buy the house from me because Frank had absolutely fallen in love with it.   I informed him that it would probably be best to sell it outright, for my neighbors would probably never accept him and Frank.   After brief reconsideration, he concurred, but said he would handle the sale of the house, plus all the particulars of selling the furniture and any other loose ends.   He feared for my safety and felt that the sooner I could get out of town, the better.  

 

I decided to trade in my car and get something far less expensive, seeing as how I was now unemployed.   It took me another week or so to tie up any remaining loose ends, including getting a new cell phone and most important of all, deciding where I wanted to go.   I finally decided on Seattle , Washington ; for the primary reason that it was so far away.   Seattle also was where my older sister Pamela, her husband James and their twenty-one year old daughter Tiffany lived.   After living all my life in Detroit , Seattle would be a refreshing and dramatic change.   I packed my clothes into my new, old car; kissed Frank and Gerald goodbye, thanking them profusely for all of their help, support and unconditional love, and then hit the road early one beautiful May morning.

I took my time driving out, stopping in countless places along the way.   The American West is breathtakingly beautiful, not to mention incredibly serene.   I took Interstate 94 out of Detroit to Chicago , then caught Interstate 90 out of Chicago and followed it all the way to Seattle , detouring off on to side roads on several occasions to take in the scenery.   I arrived in the Emerald City about two and a half weeks after leaving Detroit .   I stayed with Pamela and James for a couple of months in Tiffany’s room as she was away at college.   In that time, I found a job at the Seattle Public Library during the day and worked as a cocktail waitress at night.   I tried to avoid the subject of what happened back home that had inspired me to move out here, but Pamela finally cornered me one day and begged me to tell her the truth no matter how much it hurt.   I didn’t want to get nearly as specific as I did with Gerald and Frank; but being my older sister, Pamela knew me far too well.   Although she is only two years older, she has the wisdom of someone ten years older; so I ended up telling her the complete and painful truth.   It was tough!   But just like Gerald, Pamela surprised me with how understanding she was.   She even confessed that up until Sherry’s twisted confession, she found my experiences very exciting and arousing.  

Of course, she wasn’t too comfortable about me having sex with two of Whitney’s friends and completely understood why Whitney was so angry.   But then again, she also understood how powerful lustful desires can be; and though I can never be certain, I think it actually got her wet.   And she, just like Gerald, Frank and my therapist, believed that one day the kids would see their way to forgiving me.   At least Monica and Junior; Whitney might be another story.   Pamela went on to ask me what I planned to do about future relationships; would I go back to men or would I continue to explore women.   I told her that despite everything that had happened I truly loved having sex with women and that when the time came most likely I would probably want another woman.

By early September, I had found a small one bedroom apartment with a tiny balcony and it had a spectacular view of the Seattle skyline.   Once I got settled in, I called Gerald to let him know and he filled me in on some good news:   The house had sold and he would be sending me a very large check.   He also added that nothing else involving Sherry or Michelle had occurred.   At least nothing he or anyone I knew or knew me had heard.   It had all seemed to have blown over and been forgotten.   He then went on to tell the best news of all:   Gerald, Jr. and Monica had been asking about me and wanted to know if I was okay.   They had been very worried and they both agreed that regardless of anything, I was still their mother and they still loved me.   I told Gerald that he was welcome to give them my new address and phone number if they would so like to have it.   He was quite sure they would.   When I asked about Whitney, the news wasn’t so good; she didn’t even want to hear my name mentioned.   But other than that, she was doing fine.

I kept pretty much to myself for the next couple of months, and I even got phone calls from Gerald, Jr. and Monica on Thanksgiving.   They were both still incredulous and uncomfortable, but they both ended their calls by telling me that they loved me.   I got no call from Whitney.   As Christmas approached, I was feeling really good for the first time since March; I loved my job at the library, had been promoted and was making more money.   Nothing in the neighborhood of my previous job in Detroit , but I was supporting myself and standing back on my own two feet.   Then the day before Christmas Eve, Pamela called and invited me to come with her, James and Tiffany up to their lodge in the mountains to spend Christmas and New Year’s with them.   James is a lawyer, Pamela is a doctor and putting two and two together, you get a couple that makes a tremendous living.   Needless to say they have many fancy and expensive toys, as well as a couple of beautiful homes.   I told her that sounded wonderful, but that I would have to drive up myself on Christmas Day because I had to work at the bar on Christmas Eve.   After that, I was free until after the holidays.

I woke up early on Christmas Morning and headed for the lodge.   I called Pamela to let her know that I was on my way.   Pamela proceeded to tell me that Tiffany had brought a friend home from college; a twenty year old foreign exchange student from India named Nanja.   She went on to explain that Nanja was her nickname, and that her real name was almost beyond pronunciation in English.   When I arrived at the lodge, Pamela, James and Tiffany greeted me at the door with hugs and kisses and a barrage of “Merry Christmases”; then I turned and laid my eyes on Nanja for the first time.   Nanja was very quiet, seemed extremely withdrawn and shy, not to mention very plain; she wore big, thick rimmed glasses, her hair had a somewhat dusty and grimy look to it and was pulled up into a tight knot.   Nanja didn’t wear any make-up nor lavish clothing or expensive jewelry.   In fact, her clothing was very stale, having the appearance of a feed sack and it showed nothing of her figure and very little of her skin.   How she and Tiffany were friends I had no idea, for the differences between them were like those between the Earth and the Moon.

 

And my suspicions over their so-called friendship continued to be further and further vindicated as it became increasingly clear over the next few days that they were not friends at all.    Nanja was extremely reclusive and introverted, seldom coming out of her room.   All the while, Tiffany would go off with her friends’ everyday, leaving Nanja behind.   I finally corned Pamela a couple of days after Christmas and asked what the deal was.   Pamela told me that Tiffany had told her Nanja was her friend, but Pamela now got the notion that this was all some sort of elaborate prank being played by Tiffany and her sorority sisters on this poor girl.   Being former sorority girls ourselves, Pamela and I remembered clearly the terrible things sorority sisters did to girls that wanted to be accepted, but never would be.   My heart filled with pity and I began to make an effort to reach out to Nanja, for I definitely sensed a deep and secret pain inside her and I knew all about that kind of thing.   It took a little coaxing, but I finally got her to open up a little.   I even managed to get her outside and we took a walk through the snowy woods.   Though her voice was soft, it was also extremely sensual; her command of English was absolutely perfect and accentuated divinely by her native accent. I suddenly found that her voice was stirring something in me that I hadn’t felt in months: Desire!

We walked together for more than two hours, and I did most of the talking.   I asked questions and got short, straight forward answers.   Then just before sunset, Nanja stopped suddenly, stepped directly in front of me and placed her hand through my jacket and on to my chest just above my breasts.   I felt a suddenly flash of surprise and then she gently rubbed her hand slowly back and forth across my chest.   Her touch was soft, but firm and I suddenly felt very aroused.   But then something strange came over me; my chest was burning all over from the inside out.   Nanja’s hand wasn’t even directly on my skin, but rubbing on my blouse.    Then I was suddenly filled with dread.   Though I liked having her hand on me, and the warmth emanating all over the muscles in my chest felt almost divine, images of Sherry, Michelle and Reagan flashed through my mind.   Then Nanja said something that I will never forget.

“So much pain.   So much fear.”   Our eyes locked.   “Don’t be afraid to let yourself love and be loved again, Diane.   You’re not like them.   And they can no longer hurt you.”

Nanja slowly removed her hand from my chest, smiled and wrapped her arms around me in one of the most comforting hugs I’ve ever had.   My eyes flooded with tears.   Nanja placed her hand gently on the back of my head and lowered it to her shoulder and I broke down into sobs.   She let me cry on her shoulder for what seem liked hours, gently caressing my back and occasionally running her hands through my hair.   When I finally got it all out, Nanja took me by the hand and we walked hand in hand back to the house.   That night, I experienced the most peaceful nights’ sleep I’ve had since I was a child.   My mind and soul were at perfect peace for the first time in months.

When New Years Eve rolled around, everybody had plans to hit the town and celebrate.   Pamela invited me to join her and James at a party hosted by James’s law firm at the Space Needle.   Though it sounded like fun, I just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate.   Based on the year I’d just had, I opted to stay home.   Pamela tried and tried to persuade me otherwise, but in the end, she finally gave up.   And, at the insistence of, and finally the direct order of Pamela and James, Tiffany begrudgingly invited Nanja to join her and her friends that evening.   So, as everyone was getting ready for their evening out, I laid down on the sofa in the living room and fell into an unusually deep sleep.   By the time I woke up, the sun had set and everyone was gone; at least I thought.   Suddenly, I heard sobbing coming from the front porch; it sounded like Nanja.   I hurried to the front door and stepped out into the cold night air.   Nanja was sitting on the swing bench wearing a ragtag dress, a very lightweight, brown cardigan sweater and was crying her eyes out.   I immediately reached inside the door and grabbed my winter jacket and wrapped it around her as I sat down next to her.

“Honey, what are you doing out here all by yourself?   I asked.   “I thought you were going with Tiffany and spend New Year’s Eve with her and your friends.”

Nanja told me through her tears that no sooner had James and Pamela left, Tiffany came into her room, told her she couldn’t come with her and then took off.    My heart sank and I wrapped my arms around her; Nanja rested her head on my shoulder and continued to cry.   I was so angry at Tiffany I could scream.   This was my niece; the daughter of my only sister and my own blood.   How could she treat this poor girl this way?   Once she cried herself out, I convinced Nanja to come inside and get warm because she felt very cold.   I brewed some tea and we sat on the sofa in front of the fire and began to talk.   Unlike our walk in the woods, Nanja really opened up this time and did most of the talking.   As our conversation progressed, I learned that she had neither friends, nor relatives at all in the United States and that her family very much disapproved of her coming here.   She also explained that her father and uncle were graduates of Oxford University and that her family was one of the wealthiest in India , distant descendants of British Royalty.   I couldn’t believe it!   This girl dressed and carried herself like a peasant, yet had the blood and wealth of a princess.   Nanja suddenly took off her glasses and for the first time, I was able to see her face and eyes clearly.   Her eyes were a stunning shade of sky blue and crystal clear with thick, long eye lashes.    Her face itself was very pretty and had just a soft, natural beauty to it.   Her lips were full, although somewhat dry, but they weren’t cracked; all she needed to do was wet them and they would be perfect.    It wasn’t long before I caught myself staring at her.   Nanja was still talking when she noticed me staring at her and asked if I was okay.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”   I said.   “I’ve just never seen you without your glasses.   You should take them off more often.   You’re very pretty.”

 

Nanja lowered her head, but I could clearly see that she was smiling; and blushing.

“Would you do me a favor?”   I asked.   “Let your hair down.”

Nanja sighed deeply and slowly let her hair out of its tight knot.    It fell slowly down over her shoulders and Nanja shook it out.   It was jet black, long and flowing, and it really set off her face and eyes.   Just by taking her glasses off and letting her hair down, Nanja transformed into an entirely different person right before my eyes.   She was beautiful.   As I looked at her, I thought of the scene in the first Rocky film when Rocky removed Adrian’s glasses and hat so her hair would flow freely; hence discovering how pretty she was.   Then my mind flashed forward to Rocky 4 and how Adrian looked when she was all decked out for the Las Vegas fight Apollo Creed had against Ivan Drago; and I suddenly had an idea. It took some doing, but I finally convinced Nanja to let me give her a New Year’s Eve makeover and we’d have our own New Year’s Eve celebration right here.   So, I sent her upstairs to take a shower and to wash and condition her hair and told her to come to my room when she was done.   As Nanja went into the bathroom, I went into my room and prepared to work some beauty magic.

Nanja was in the shower for quite awhile.   While I waited, I did a preliminary base paint job on myself and began to do up my hair.   When I finally heard the shower shut off, I was in Tiffany’s closet searching for the perfect evening gown for Nanja to wear.   I found a stunning royal blue Armani gown, snapped it up and returned to my room.   Just at a glance, Tiffany and Nanja appeared to be about the same size, and I could make a few adjustments if necessary.   As I was taking an evening gown out of my closet for myself, I heard gentle knocking on my bedroom door.

“Come on in, hon.” I said as I laid my gown down on the bed next to the one I selected for Nanja.

Nanja stepped into my room wrapped in a maroon bath towel and I just about fainted when I saw her.   Her dark skin was smooth and without the slightest hint of any blemishes or imperfections, and was glistening from still being wet.    Her figure was curved so perfectly that it would make a supermodel jealous; her chest was big and she had beautiful cleavage, and her jet black wet hair was also glistening in the soft light of my room as it clung to her wet body.   For the first time since March, I felt my pussy flash with heat and then flush slightly with wetness.   My heart began to pound and my breathing accelerated.  

“Something wrong?”   Nanja asked, snapping me out of my trance.

“No.”   I whipped.   “You ready to get started?”

 

Nanja nodded and then sat down in a folding chair in front of the mirror on my dresser.   I blew dry her hair and it slowly began to feel like a combination of velvet and silk as I ran my fingers through it.   When I finished, I laid my hands on her bare shoulders and gently ran my hands down her bare arms; her skin was silky soft and even smoother than I imagined.   I felt a powerful chill pass through my body and I felt my nipples harden.   I immediately shook it off and proceeded to do her hair, followed by a make-up job fit for a movie star.   When I was finished, I handed her a white lace bra and a white lace thong that I had also borrowed from Tiffany; then stepped back to the bed to prepare the evening gown.   I expected Nanja to step into the closet while she put on the under garments; but instead, she stood up, dropped her towel right there in front of the mirror and put on the bra and panties.   Suddenly I was filled with tremendous guilt and shame; because for as long as I’d known this girl, I’d felt an almost maternal connection to her and now she was getting me wet!   I could feel my pussy drenching and my nipples were so hard now that I thought they might pop out.    Once she was in the bra and panties, Nanja turned to me, gave me the most beautiful smile I yet to see her give; her teeth were perfectly straight and sparkling white, and then she almost posed for me.   The white lace against her dark skin was absolutely captivating and greatly accentuated her gorgeous figure.   I smiled quickly back at her, handed her the evening gown and turned quickly away because I could feel my face flushing and I knew my cheeks were bright red by now.   By eleven-thirty, Nanja and I were both fully made up and wearing stunning evening gowns.   I had to change my panties before I put on my gown.   They were soaked.

We went downstairs, turned on New Years Rockin’ Eve from Times Square and I popped a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne.   I explained that it was the traditional toasting drink at midnight on New Year’s Eve to ring in the New Year, along with a New Year’s kiss.   Nanja looked at me with a sweet smile and just kind of rolled her eyes.

“What?”   I asked.

“Remember I told you that my father went to Oxford University ?   She said.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Well, so did I for a time.”   She said.   “I do know how to celebrate New Year’s.”

“Oh.”   I said as I blushed.   “Sorry.”   I chuckled.

Nanja laughed and planted a quick peck kiss on my lips.   I didn’t know if she felt it, but I felt a spark and I also felt my pussy flush again.   Nanja guzzled down some champagne as I suddenly realized that this was the first time I’d felt another human being’s lips on mine in nearly nine months.   I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed, and for a split second, thought I might burst into tears.   I missed that touch so much.

 

At the stroke of midnight, we toasted champagne and guzzled our flutes dry.   Then Nanja looked around.

“Okay, now who do I kiss?”   She asked.  

“Well, usually your husband or boyfriend.”   I replied.

“No, really?”   She said sarcastically.   I think she was a little tipsy.

“Well, you kissed me a little while ago.”   I said.

“Would you like me to again?” She asked.   “We seem to be fresh out of husbands and boyfriends.   Not that I’ve ever had either before anyway.”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?   I asked.

“Nor a husband either.”   She replied and giggled.   Yeah, she was definitely tipsy.

“Well, I think that goes without saying.”   I said.

“Never kissed a boy either.”   She suddenly offered.

“As beautiful as you are?”   I said incredulously.   “I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“True though.”   She said.

There was a long moment of silence as we watched the tremendous celebration in Times Square on the television set.

“So?”   Nanja suddenly spoke up. “Are you gonna let me kiss you again or what?”

I suddenly felt my heart skip a couple of beats.   My cheeks were flushing again, as was my pussy.   I felt my nipples pop out and press hard up against the fabric of my evening gown.

“Would you like to kiss me again?”   I asked.

“Well, it’s New Year’s, isn’t it?”   She replied.   “I’m supposed to kiss somebody, right?   And you’re the only one here.”

Nodding my head in agreement, we stepped toward each other and were quickly face to face.   I put my hands on her hips and gently pressed my lips on hers for a few seconds.   I then stepped back and she smiled at me.

“Happy New Year.” I said.

“Happy New Year.”   She said back.

“Was that okay?”   I asked.

“Wasn’t bad.”   She said.   “But I was actually hoping for something a little more like this.”

Nanja slowly pressed her body firmly up against me, slid her arms all the way around me and kissed me harder.   My eyes closed as my heart pounded wildly and raced at the speed of sound.   I could feel the warmth of her body and the consuming gentleness of her embrace.   I felt my legs trembling and my whole body began to quiver; not necessarily from being aroused, but from just being so intimate with another human being again.   I felt tears welling up behind my eyes.   Suddenly, Nanja’s hands slid down my back and gently squeezed my ass.   I thought I was going to have an orgasm right then, but it was enough to cause my mouth to open and Nanja’s tongue slid in deeply.    She removed one of her hands from my ass and gently wrapped it around the back of my neck.   My hands slid down her back and grabbed the firmest and most beautifully rounded ass I had ever felt.    When we finally came up for air, we gently caressed each other’s cheeks and stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I thought you said you’d never kissed anyone before.”   I said.

“I said I’d never kissed a boy before.”   Nanja replied.   “You didn’t ask if I’d ever kissed a woman before.”  

Nanja pulled me slowly back into another incredibly deep and passionate kiss.   We wrapped our arms around each other tightly.   For a second, I thought of Sherry.   Despite everything that had happened, she was still the best kisser I’d ever had; until now.   Sure, Michelle and Reagan were deep and passionate kissers, too; but Nanja was different.   I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, but Nanja’s kiss was almost divinely inspired.   I felt like I was kissing pure spirit.   Once again, we finally came up for air and again gazed into each other’s eyes.   Nanja’s eyes were so beautiful I could have stared into them for the rest of my life.

“Nanja, have you ever made love to a woman before?”   I asked.

“I am from India .”   She said.

“Yes, I know that.”   I replied.   “What’s that got to do with it?”

“It also means I’m Hindu.   And if there is one thing Hindu’s know how to do, its make love.”   She said very seductively.

      HAPPY NEW YEAR!!   And we fell into another deep and passionate kiss.

The next thing I knew, I was completely naked, sitting in the center of Nanja’s bed, watching her beautiful naked body move around the room lighting candles and incense.   Her mattress was incredibly soft, the sheets were pure silk and the bed frame itself had four beautifully carved bedposts, a canopy over the top and was draped all around with a very thin, almost transparent silk curtain.   When she finished lighting the incense, she approached me so seductively that I nearly squirted right then.   Nanja came right up to the silk curtain, allowing the silk to gently drape over the front of her body.   Her nipples were twice as dark as her skin and were already extremely hard, protruding out like fresh pencil erasers.   I got on my knees on the mattress, came over to her and pressed my body against her now silk covered body.   We began to rub each other all over with the silk between our hands and the others skin.   Finally, Nanja passed through the silk; we entwined in a tight, passionate embrace and fell into yet another incredibly deep kiss; a kiss that in truth, lasted all night.   The way Nanja made love to me is almost impossible to try and put into words; it was so totally different than anything prior. For where as all my sexual encounters with Sherry; while incredibly passionate, had been so wild and so unbridled. And then of course there was the raw and animalistic sexual frenzy I experienced with Michelle and Reagan; wildly fucking each other to the brink of physical collapse.   But what was happening here with Nanja was unlike anything I’d ever known in any sexual encounter in my life.   Her passion was deeply rooted in her spirit, and she was so gentle and meticulous.   Nanja was truly making love to me and not just fucking me.

 

Nanja stretched me out on my back on her bed and then rubbed me down from head to toe with some kind of rare Indian herb oil.   Once she finished, she pressed and rubbed her body against me; and as she did, the herbs began to seep deep in to every pore, nook, cranny and muscle; and my muscles began to burn.   But the burn was not painfully hot; yes it hot, but it was also overwhelmingly erotic.   It felt as though thousands of pairs of hot and moist lips were sucking every square inch of my body.   It drove me to multiple orgasms and my body writhed in unbridled ecstasy as my pussy squirted without yet having been touched.    Nanja held me close to her as I had this experience and she whispered gently into my ear that it was intended to cleanse my body off all physical and spiritual impurities.   Nanja then licked and sucked on my earlobe as the intensity passed then gently slid her tongue deeply into my mouth.   She then turned me over on my stomach, rubbed my entire back side down with herb oil, rubbed it all in by rubbing her body against mine and it again drove me to a level of ecstasy unlike any I’d ever known.

With the smell of burning incense heavy in the room, I gently laid Nanja on her back and slid my tongue deep into her mouth.   Then I slowly pulled it out, slid it down her chin, her neck and down to her beautiful tits.   I kneaded them gently as I wrapped my lips around one of her dark protruding nipples.   Sucking it with my lips, I began flicking it with my tongue simultaneously.   I was almost tempted to start twisting her other nipple, but it just didn’t seem like the thing to do.   It would have been too rough and aggressive; and this encounter was not about ferocity in the least.   I just continued to gently massage that tit and then I wrapped my lips around that other nipple and massaged the tit I’d just left.   Then I continued sliding my tongue down her body, across her abdomen, over the thick bush of black pubic hair and then up her silky thigh.   I then spread her legs wide open, slid my body between them and gently spread her pussy lips.   She was bright pink inside and she was so wet that the pink glistened in the soft candle light of the room.   I wrapped my mouth around her pussy and gently ran my tongue up and down the outside of her lips and then inside.   Nanja caressed her tits with one hand as she gently held the back of my head with the other and moaned ever so softly.  

As I continued delving deeper into her pussy, I pressed the palm of my hand on her abdomen and then ran my hand up the front of her body to her lips and stuck my middle finger in her mouth.   After she had sucked it for a moment, I pulled it back down her body and slid it slowly into her pussy.   Nanja’s back arched as it went in; her moaning got loader as her breathing got faster and harder.   I wrapped my lips around her clit and ran my finger in and out of her pussy.   I sucked her clit harder and faster, then flicked it wildly with my tongue and inserted another finger.   Nanja’s eyes spun wildly around in their sockets while her head rolled from side to side.   Moaning almost continuously now, Nanja grasped handfuls of the silks sheets as her back arched and she came like a freight train in my mouth.   I slid my body up and pressed in firmly on top of hers; our tits mashed together and slid my tongue back deeply into her mouth.   As our lips locked tightly around each other; our tongues mauling each other deep inside our mouths, Nanja’s arms went around me and her fingernails where suddenly softly scratching up and down across the skin of my back. The sensation was so intensely erotic that I broke out of the kiss, moaned as my body seized and an arched backward and I came all over Nanja’s leg.  

After a moment, I slid off Nanja and she then got on top of me and before I knew it, we were entwined in a 69 that was so intense that I nearly hyperventilated.   She ate my pussy unlike anyone ever has, or ever will again; that I can guarantee.   I came all over her face three times for every one time she came all over mine.   Her pussy was so tight and so incredibly sweet that I almost felt like I was breaking my diet.   Suddenly, Nanja slid two fingers deep inside me, and she found a spot inside me that had never been touched before.   Some may call it my g-spot, but this war more than that.   I’ve had my g-spot touched before, but this was something far more sacred.   My body began convulsing wildly over and over; I couldn’t stop it or control it.   My moaning and screaming reached octaves that could shatter diamond.   It felt as though my soul was literally trying to rip itself out of my body and tear me in half in the process.   It became so intense that I felt tears coming.   By now I was sweating so profusely and I suddenly began experiencing incredibly sharp pains in my chest, and I thought I was going into cardiac arrest.    I begged Nanja to stop because I was actually becoming quite terrified, but she didn’t.   Then in an instant, I fell backwards on the mattress with my feet planted and my back arched; my head and shoulders were lying on the soft silk sheets.   I seized big handfuls of the silk sheets, screamed at the top of my lungs and squirted geyser after geyser of cum high in the air.   It looked like the dancing fountains in front of the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas .   And it just kept coming out of me.   My mouth was wide open, my eyes were spinning, every muscle in my body was seized and constricted; I wasn’t breathing and was now desperately trying to remember how to.     

Nanja slowly placed her mouth over mine and exhaled one single breath deep down my throat.   My body shuddered wildly and I at last took a breath.   I then exhaled and my entire body then crumpled under its own weight onto the mattress.   I cannot to this day begin to tell what she did or how she was doing it, but when it was all over, I felt reborn.   My body felt new; completely pure and clean, and there was a peace that flowed through me unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.   I truly felt as though I’d been touched, or rather, sexually liberated by a divinity of some kind.    Nanja reached down on the floor and stuck two of her fingers in the cup of Indian herb oil that she had used on me earlier.   Nanja then repositioned her body, sliding legs first between my legs; lifted my ass and then slid her legs underneath me.   She then firmly slid those two fingers deep into my pussy.   My back instantly arched in an intense rush of unfathomable ecstasy and I suddenly sprang up into a seated position and was now face to face with Nanja.   She wrapped her free arm around me and held me firmly against her.   My body writhed ever so slightly in her embrace as she gently massaged the inside of my pussy with those fingers.   The inside of my pussy began to burn and I felt my juices flowing like a tidal wave down around Nanja’s fingers and out on to her hand.   Almost completely in a daze, I managed to wrap my arms around Nanja and since I was sitting on her legs, I was slightly looking down at her.   I slid my tongue deep into her mouth as I slid my hands up and down her back.   Nanja pulled out of our kiss and gazed deeply into my eyes.

“You are free, my beloved.   You’re free.   Be happy.”   She whispered.

My eyes suddenly fell shut and the world went dark.

“Love again.”   I heard Nanja say and then complete silence and peace.

When I woke up, the sun was coming through the windows and hitting me right in the eyes.   I was back in my own room and Nanja was nowhere to be found.   How the hell did I get back here?   Did she carry me?   I pulled back the covers and half expected to collapse as I got out of bed.   After the intensity of my encounter with Nanja, and considering the fact that I hadn’t had sex in nearly nine months, I could expect to be sore today.   But amazingly, I sprang up and out of bed like an excited child on Christmas Morning and practically floated across the floor.   I slipped on my robe and pulled back the curtains at the windows.   It was a bright and sunny morning with deep blue skies and not a cloud to be found; extremely unusual for the Pacific Northwest in January.   As I stood looking out the window, I began to wonder if maybe all of what had happened had been a dream.   I then heard voices downstairs, so I turned and followed them.

Pamela, James and Tiffany were all sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast.   I exchanged greetings with everyone and then sat down beside Tiffany.   Glancing across the table at the front page of the newspaper James was reading, I saw that the date was now January 2.   I immediately asked if that could be right, and that’s when Pamela told me that I had been asleep for nearly a day and a half.   Nanja had come down early on New Year’s Day and told them that I had had some kind of major emotional break through with her on New Year’s Eve and that I needed to rest for a couple of days with absolutely no disturbances.   Pamela poured me a cup of coffee, then tried to probe me on what the break through was.   I told her that it had something to do with what had happened back in Detroit and that we would talk about it later.   Pamela kissed me on the cheek then excused herself from the table and left the room.   James followed a moment later and I was left alone with Tiffany, who was feverously text messaging someone on her i-phone.   I sipped my coffee.

“Tiffany, can I ask you something?”   I asked.

“Sure.”   She said without even looking up.

“Why did you blow Nanja off like that the other night?”   I asked.

Tiffany instantly stopped text messaging and stared at me.   From the look on her face, you’d think I’d just shot her dog.

“What?”   She snapped.

“You heard me!”   I snapped right back at her.

“Blow her off?   I didn’t blow her off at all.   She blew me off!”   Tiffany said.

“What?”   I said very incredulously.

“Yeah, she blew me off.   “She said she wanted to stay here with you.”   Tiffany said.   “Actually she said she needed to stay here with you.”

As Tiffany’s words registered in my mind, I suddenly felt my chest filling with the same warm sensation that had filled it when Nanja put her hand on it as she and I had walked together in the woods.   Then I remembered what Nanja had said to me that day and my eyes welled with tears; I had loved again.   After the horrific experience I went through with Sherry and Michelle, I didn’t think I ever could.     I was afraid to.   But now I had allowed myself to love again and allowed Nanja to love me.   And by doing that, it broke the chain connecting me to the past; and the last few words Nanja spoke to me that night came back, and I now understood:   I was free!   I sat at the kitchen table with tears streaming down my cheeks and laughing at the same time.   When Tiffany finally looked up and saw me, I thought for a second that she was going to start crying to.

“Aunt Dee?”   She asked.   “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”   I said as I sniffed.   “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”   She asked as she laid her hand on my arm.

“Yeah.”   I said as I sniffed again.   “Do you know where Nanja is?”  

“Yeah, she left for home yesterday.”   Tiffany said.

“What?”   I asked.

“Nanja left to go back to India yesterday.   Mom and Dad took her to the airport.”   Tiffany said.

“Oh.”

For a moment, I felt completely lost.   Nanja had made absolutely no mention of going back to India .   Why hadn’t she told me?   Now she was gone and I didn’t even get to say good-bye.   Or more importantly, thank you.   I suddenly felt a big lump lodging in my throat.   I wandered upstairs and took a shower.   Afterward, I got dressed and got packed up as I would be heading back to my apartment and back to work in the morning.   As I emptied out the dresser drawer, I spotted Nanja’s big, thick rimmed glasses laying on the dresser top.   I picked them up, looked at them for a long moment and then held them tightly up against my chest.   I threw on my jacket, slipped her glasses in my pocket, slung the bag’s strap over my shoulder and headed downstairs.   Pamela, James and Tiffany walked me out to my car and we said our good-byes and I added my thanks.   I started the engine and then realized that I still have Nanja’s glasses, so I rolled down the window.

“Hey, I found Nanja’s glasses upstairs.   I guess she forgot to take them with her.   Maybe you could send them to her or something.”   I said as I held her glasses out the window.

“No, Nanja said that she wants you to keep them.”   Tiffany said.   “She said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Doesn’t need them anymore?”   I asked.

“That’s what she said.”   Tiffany replied.   “And based upon how she looked when she left, I can certainly understand why.”

“Really?”   I said, trying to maintain my composure.

“Oh God Diane, she was a knockout!   When she first came downstairs, I didn’t recognize her at all.   Almost an entirely different person; I mean, who would have ever known that she was so beautiful.”   Pamela said.

I felt a rush of exhilarating joy race through every fiber of my being.   Not only had Nanja redeemed me, but I had redeemed her.   We had redeemed each other - mind, body and soul.   Now I was truly free; a completely reborn and beautiful creation.   As I drove away down the driveway toward the main road, I realized that Nanja was a divinity.   Or at least, she had been sent by the divinity to restore me.   And by restoring me, she ascended to a higher plain of existence herself.   Though I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would never see her again, I also knew that I would never forget my beautiful young Nanja.   She had saved my life in a way no one else ever could have.

I drove back to Seattle and walked into my apartment just as the sun was dropping below the Olympic Mountains across Puget Sound .   As I unpacked my bag, I suddenly heard a very peculiar sound:   I was singing.    I finished unpacking, then picked up the phone and ordered a pizza for dinner.   No sooner had I hung from ordering my dinner, the phone rang.   I figured that the pizza place had forgotten something about the order, but the caller ID flashed Gerald’s name and number.   I smiled and snapped up the cordless phone.

“Well, Happy New Year, my dear!”   I chirped exuberantly.

“Diane, its Gerald.”   He said very sullenly.

“Yes, I know that.”   I replied.   “How are you?”

“Are you sitting down?”   He asked.   Something was wrong.

The smile fled from my face and my exuberance quickly faded into something else.   I’m not sure what, but it wasn’t good.

“No.”   I said cautiously. “Why?”

“You better sit.”   He said.

My heart began to pound and I slowly sank on to my couch.   Somehow I got the feeling that whatever he was about to tell me, it was definitely not Happy New Year.

 

 

TO BE CONCLUDED – Look for “My Aerobics Instructor – Pt. 4”     Coming Soon!

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