by Tara Pammi
In case you're not seeing the distinction, let me point it out to you. She only asked if we minded that she was living here. She did not ask permission to have a relationship with you. Does that make sense, Tara?"
I nodded.
"She’s a sensible girl and I’m glad that you two have hit it off. But she is going to leave in just a few weeks. You will remember that, won't you, kanna?"
Amma was rarely demonstrative, whether in words or actions. My throat filled up. Imagining my dreary existence after Farah left made my stomach drop like a broken elevator. Except there was no bottom and it kept falling and falling. "I know," I said defensively. "We're just going to have a little fl…" I blushed so hard that I was sure my face looked like a purple potato, "a little fun," I clarified.
"If you decide to have sex with her, make sure you practice it safely," Amma said, destroying any nuance the situation demanded in her usual way. "Remember the talk we had. Participating in sex is not mandatory to get someone to like you. You do not have to do anything you don't want to, okay? And you can come to me or your Dad if you need any kind of–"
I slapped my palms over my ears and started singing an old Telugu song loudly. I messed up most of the words as I usually did but at least it drowned out my mother's voice. I snuck a peek at her only to realize that she didn't get why this conversation made me feel a little… icky.
I stopped singing and looked at her. “I’ll be careful, I promise. But this convo’s got to stop.”
“Now you sound like your dad.” She grinned. “He told me to expect this reaction from you.”
“You’ve got a wise man,” I said, grinning back.
“Don’t I know it?” she threw back, remembering the old joke.
Legend was – which meant Dad telling this story as colorfully as possible to any and all audience– that he’d fallen for Amma at first sight at some relative’s wedding. Then he’d spent the entire next year wooing her – moving to the city where she studied, scaling a girls’ hostel wall, braving a scary house matron, and then bringing her Irani chai while she studied through long, lonely nights. And then when he’d asked her to marry him, she’d said yes but with the condition that Ammamma and Thaatha - her parents, would always live with her. And that she wouldn’t cook or do any housekeeping.
To this day, Dad called her his conditional love.
It was a perfect moment as we grinned at each other. And there hadn’t been many of those in a while. Since I’d decided to come out to my parents and family, to be precise. Or had that simply catalyzed a fear I’d always internalized?
Months of the resentment I’d subdued and swallowed came bursting out. "You know my algebra final’s today. Why aren’t you asking me about that?" There was a strange rushing sound in my ears and the shock on her face only made me angrier. "You’ve just given up on me, haven't you? You really don't care how I do on this test because you think, because you’ve decided that I’m just a–"
Her hand reached for me across the table and clasped my fingers. Whatever she’d been about to say never materialized because Farah walked into the dining area at that exact moment. She wore a navy-blue rain jacket that nicely delineated the dip of her waist and a gray beanie with a yellow pom-pom at the tip. Somehow, she managed to look super cute and insanely sexy at the same time.
The tip of her sharp nose was red like Rudolph’s. As were her cheeks. She had a box in her hand, a box of donuts from my favorite bakery. My stomach growled with hunger, my heart somersaulted and my entire body was caught between throwing myself at her and stuffing my face with the carbs I absolutely needed.
"Where did you…? You don't drive. How did you get those donuts?"
Her perceptive gaze shifted between me and Amma and then back to me again. "I am sorry for interrupting." She slid the box onto the table slowly. "I will come back later, Aunty."
I shot up from my chair as if there was a fire under my ass. I snuck a look at Amma and caught the flash of disappointment in her face.
“Tara is more excited about those donuts than our conversation. I see that, as always,” Amma frowned, "I have caused a lot of confusion. But we can postpone our talk for now." Her gaze held mine – promise and something else in it that I didn't understand. I nodded and gave her a quick hug.
She held me a little awkwardly as she always did, and then turned her attention to Farah. "Where did you get those donuts, Farah?"
Pinned beneath her professor’s gaze, Farah couldn’t fudge. "I walked to the shop."
Both our gazes immediately flicked to the outside where a persistent drizzle still continued. “That’s almost a mile and a half one way,” Amma added.
"I could not sleep, and I knew," Farah’s gaze met mine, and she cleared her throat, "that Tara would be anxious this morning. I wanted to re…" she caught herself, “that is, I thought it would be nice if one of us fed her, instead of the other way around.”
My heart felt as if it would expand and expand until it burst out of my chest.
Amma grinned. “Huh! What a thoughtful girlfriend you have, Tara.” She grabbed a donut on a napkin, thanked Farah, and smiled at the both of us a little naughtily. “I’ll be working from home most of the day,” she said and then left.
I felt like a jackass for how I’d acted earlier. I’d never doubted Amma’s love for me. But for once in my life, I wanted her to be proud of me. I wanted to be good at something she understood. Something she counted as important. I wanted her to crow about me to her family and friends, instead of having to explain why I needed to repeat kindergarten. Or why college might not be for me. Or why I wasn’t like any other girl my age.
I wanted to see pride in Amma’s eyes when she looked at me.
“Is everything okay, Star Bells?” Farah asked, taking off her rain jacket and cap with that slow, methodical efficiency that drove me mad.
“Yes. Fine. Why?”
She shrugged. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“I know,” I said, watching her hungrily.
She finger-combed through her hair and shook it. The sweater she wore under the jacket was pale pink and hugged her slender figure.
She looked up and we just stared at each other. Something built in the air around us, so full of longing and anticipation and lust. And more. More that I was afraid to define. If I thought too much about the future, I couldn’t live in the now. That’s how I’d gotten through this lonely, miserable summer and having to sign up for a course that I’d already failed.
I tried to bring the same attitude into this. Farah was here, and I was here, and we liked each other. This was a glorious thing I had in my life right now and I was just going to milk it for all it was worth. And hopefully get a lot of orgasms out of it, too.
“You’re not going to eat one?” Her voice was husky, her cheeks pink again. I loved how Farah blushed when I stared at her even though she was the one with more experience in everything.
My gaze flicked between the donuts and her. She won. I rounded the table so fast that the edge grazed my hip and then I threw myself at her. As substantial as I was, Farah caught me easily. She did this swaying thing on the balls of her feet as if she was preparing to catch me.
I loved that we already had our own language when we touched each other. Her hands immediately drifted to my hips, her long fingers spanning over the swells of my butt as if they meant to cover as much ground as possible. Of course, there was a lot to cover.
She was a creature of routines and patterns and I’d noticed that this was her default when she held me. As if she meant to catch me always and hold onto me forever. I didn't mind the possessive dig of her fingers or the smug affection in her eyes that said she knew how big it was that she’d defeated donuts in my affections.
“There’s one missing.”
“I ate one on the way,” she answered, understanding me perfectly.
I tangled my fingers at the nape of her neck and went on to my toes. “And?”
She scrunched h
er perfect nose in distaste. “Too sweet.”
“Says the girl who inhales those extra sweet Parle-G biscuits. Fine, gimme some of that sugar, babe” I said cornily, and she threw her head back and laughed.
“You and your cheesy movie lines.”
“But you like me like that,” I pouted, “all extra.”
Her hand clasped my cheek and then tucked a lock of unruly hair behind my ear. The simple touch sent a tingle through me. “I adore you like that, all glittery and extra, Star Bells.”
I kissed her, full of a giddy joy I’d never known before. The tight fist in my heart unclenched with a sigh as her familiar taste filled my senses. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her deep into me.
She tasted like rain and cold and all the cozy things in the world. Like the sweetness of the donuts and bitterness of the dark coffee she preferred. I kissed her softly, slowly, savoring the languorous buzzing building in my blood. Our breasts rubbed and jiggled, and her hips did a shimmy back and forth, to the left and right, until finally settling into a groove. My thick thighs straddled by her long, muscled ones. And just like that, we slotted into place against each other. Comfort and excitement bound me to her like an invisible rope.
Her hands lowered and cupped my ass, pressing me tighter against her with an unusually demanding groan.
I pushed my tongue into her mouth, needing and seeking the taste of her. My fingers tugged at the roots of her hair and, hearing my demand, she took the kiss deeper. Our heartbeats tangled with each other and then settled into a rhythm. Her hands drifted up from my ass, sliding over my back until she cupped my neck. Her thumbs traced my jawline, her touch soft and reverent.
With a gasp, she pulled away from the kiss.
I clung to her and followed her until I could bury my face in the hollow of her throat. I had only been here a few times and already it felt like the safest place on earth. The stress of the test slowly left me, as if Farah’s touch and kiss could siphon the tension out of my body and mind.
"Everything will be fine, Star Bells," she whispered, planting another soft kiss against my tingling lips.
I didn’t have her confidence in me, but I borrowed hers in that moment.
“Do you want to go over any–”
“Nope. Can’t. I’ll panic and forget whatever I did manage to absorb. Is that strange? Do people who pass study till the last minute? Is it good to just look over–”
Her fingers gripped my shoulders. “Breathe, Star Bells. Whether you study before the examination or not means fuck all.”
I laughed, just as she knew I would.
She raised a shaped brow. “Still not smooth enough?”
“Not smooth but hot, babe,” I said, holding her. “You nail the perfect combo of polite and dirty. You’re hot.”
Another kiss at the tip of my nose. "How much longer do you have before the test?"
"About two hours." I wiggled my eyebrows naughtily. “Lots of activities that could occupy my mind.”
"Now?" Her eyes swept around the empty dining room and living room and then trailed up the stairs where Amma had disappeared. "Do you think of anything else?" She asked, with a laugh.
“Hey, I finally have a girl who likes me and is hot and I just want to get some. Plus, did you know that it’s the best kind of stress reliever?" I patted my palms over her body, barely touching the sides of her breasts and her shoulders. Then I did a quick sweep down until they skimmed over her belly and back to her hips.
She jerked into me with a throaty little sound. “Mmm…keep touching me.”
More than happy to comply, I licked the pulse at her neck, nipped at her skin gently with my teeth and then released it. Her limbs became extra taut from the rising tension in her, and that fed my own arousal. I was getting desperate to see how Farah would topple from the cliff she was forever climbing. I wanted to see her face when she lost that last thread of control. I wanted to give her all the pleasure and happiness she was giving me a thousand-fold. I wanted to see her give in to this completely. Even if it was only temporarily.
"I don't know why you won't let me…" I lost my train of thought when her hands cupped my breasts. Her fingers moved in relentless circles around my nipples.
"Will you promise to stay quiet?"
My eyes widened, and my pulse raced. “You better not be fucking with me, babe!”
“Not fucking with you, Star Bells.” Her two fingers finally reached the needy knot and squeezed. I moaned and pushed into her touch. She scissored her fingers, pinching the sensitive tips. Whatever little inhibition I’d felt that this was our living room fled when she bent her head.
I walked us back until I was against the wall, giving us some notion of privacy. If Amma came down the steps, she wouldn’t see us immediately. Although, I knew she wouldn’t come down again.
Farah licked my nipple and I groaned again. I’d never been more thankful for the thin cotton of most of my tops.
“I promised myself that I would be the best kind of girlfriend, and if having an orgasm is what my girlfriend needs to be stress-free before her big mathematics exam, then this is what I shall have to do as the phenomenal girlfriend that I intend to be.”
Joy and pleasure flew through me in rivulets. “You called me your girlfriend.”
Her hand cupped my cheek with a tenderness that made my heart ache. “Because that’s what you are, Star Bells.” She kissed me, her tongue sweeping into my mouth with an urgency I’d never seen in her before. Her teeth nipped at my lower lip and then licked the bruise she gave me. And then she went down on her knees.
My heart thudded like a freight train and my sex ached. I rubbed my thighs, needing more there. Farah watched all of this, the brown of her eyes deepening. “May I go down on you, Star Bells?”
Those words went straight to my sex. “I think I might had have a mini one just then.” And then I nodded hurriedly, excitement dampening my panties. “Yes, please.”
“You will be quiet?”
Another nod.
A naughty twist to her mouth, she hitched her fingers under the bands of my shorts. Slowly, ever so slowly that I was already going half mad, she rolled them down my thighs. They hung at my calves, locking me in place.
Her fingers trailed my legs, savoring my bare skin, while her gaze fell to my pink cotton panties. She played with the seams. “That pink is gorgeous against your skin.” Then she pushed up straight on her knees and her face went closer and closer to my crotch. “There is a damp patch here, Star Bells. You are very excited?”
“Fuck, yes, Farah.”
Her hands grabbed my ass and I understood her intent a second before her face pressed up snug against my crotch. She breathed in deeply and I fought and lost the battle before I jerked my hips and pressed into her face for more contact. Her laughter rippled against my sex and the tip of her nose notched against my clit and I groaned.
She slapped my ass playfully before looking up at me. “Shh.”
“Right,” I said, loving the teasing slide of her fingers under the seams of my panties. I was a treasure trove of sensations right then, all coalescing into a needy ache at my sex. I looked down to see her grinning. Her mouth was curved wide, her dimple winking at me, and I knew that I was falling for her.
No, I had already fallen. I was in love with Farah and my heart was pumping hard and my body was hung on the cliff of pleasure.
And I couldn’t turn back from any of it even if I wished to. Which I didn’t.
“Please, Farah,” I said, not at all ashamed about how I needy I felt, about asking her for it. There was something magical about being with Farah. I didn’t feel as if I was being vulnerable when I showed her how much I liked her. How much I wanted her to touch me. Somehow, she created a safe space for me to be exactly myself, even with her guarded looks and grumpy grunts. “I want to come. So bad, babe.”
She nodded, a resolve to her chin, as if she’d been given an important chore.
I chuckled and slapped my pa
lm over my mouth. My panties went the way of my shorts. And I waited for her reaction.
One long finger rose and traced the strip I’d asked the beautician to leave. “You waxed?”
“I wanted to look nice for you. But it hurt like a motherfucker.” I wasn’t sure if I’d ever do it again. Maybe if Farah liked it or promised me something.
She’s going to leave before it grows back, a tiny voice whispered, and I smothered it. Time was not a construct I believed in anymore. There was no past. There was no future. There was only now with Farah.
“I told you. You are pretty to me however you are,” she said in an admonishing tone. But her gaze was riveted to the neat strip of my hair. Her fingers softly played with the strip of hair and between my labia before trailing up again. I saw her swallow, felt her fingers dig into my ass cheeks.
I grinned. “But you like it, don’t you?” I demanded.
She looked up. Her blush was full-on now even though I was the one on display. Her voice went all deep and husky when she said, “I do, Star Bells. I like it very much.” She placed soft, whispering kisses against the silky skin of my inner thighs. Desire shook me. “Now enough talking, no? More doing. I hope you hold on to something, Tara.”
I slapped my head against the wall none too gently when she mimicked her earlier actions. Her face was pressed into my crotch, her fingers softly separating my outer lips. Up and down, her fingers went, from my clit to my opening. Gathering up the wetness and then painting my clit with it. Small gentle touches alternated with fast, hard caresses. She touched every inch of me, pushing me on and on and on, until I was shaking under an agony of mounting pleasure. She stroked me with her fingers, with her words, with her very breath. “What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Noting your response.”
