Eve Of An Indian Wedding

[desiaks]

She was kissing me intensely, my hands firmly clasping her breasts, whilst she had stretched open her legs as humanely possible, making her heels dig deep into my buttocks. Both her hands were pressing my arse harder into her. She was no longer allowing her hips to be pushed into the bed with each thrust, she was now equally with rhythm thrusting her hips hard up into mine as I thrust down. The khat (bed) was shaking vigorously the four posts looking like they were going to snap under the strain . I'm surprised no one next door heard the khat scraping against the concrete floor. My thrusts varied sometimes-deep thrusts, pushing in my cock into her wet and willing quim as far as I could go. Other thrusts where quick in out jobs the full length of m y rod out before delving back in again. We were both sweating buckets. Oh the bloody heat. It was amazing! We eventually interlocked our fingers tight and I looked deep into her eyes snatching hungry kisses with each thrust. She moaned a lot making me even hotter and hornier. 
Raj ,oh Raj! she moaned. 
I couldn't hold back any longer with a huge deep thrust I spurted into her violently. Some of it dripping onto the outside\inside of her wedding saree. The lovemaking was intense and passionate. We made love more than nine times in the space of two hours I don't exactly remember how many times. I had stopped counting. I know it was a lot of times. Towards the end of it I was panting into her ear oh Geeta, Oh Geeta Mausi, meaning Oh Geeta aunt oh Geeta aunt. A bit kinky eh! I think it just turned us both on more. The last time we did it we where both aching all over her arms were wrapped around my back. The kisses more romantic and gentle. Reluctantly, I came, I wanted to make love to her forever. My hands finally resting under her arse. My head slumped to rest by hers, breathing on her neck whilst her heaving bosoms rubbed against my chest. I didn't slip out of her, instead we lay in each other like that for about fifteen minutes, her holding me tight. My eyes closed with a kind of relaxation you only get when you've had incredible sex. 
I'm not exactly sure the exact time she had left. The room no longer smelt of heavy sex, she'd opened the window to clear the smell out. I was a bit groggy. I found my shorts wet and hung on the side to dry. Seems, she had washed the mixture of cum and blood off my shorts. She had also changed back into her salwar kharta. She had tried to wash out the blood and cum stains on her saree and later I found out some of the stains hadn't come out. I looked at my flaccid dick it was covered in her pussy cum and blood. I didn't want to wash it, but I had no choice. If someone came strolling in, it would be a bit hard to explain. So I went into the kitchen/bathroom and washed with the buckets of cold water she had left me. She had also cleaned away the broken flowers from her hair that had scattered on the floor and bed. I was well knackered but satisfied. I pulled my dried shorts back on and changed the sheets on the bed scrubbing them in a bucket to take off some of the blood and cum stained on it. I later laid back on the bed and went back to sleep. 
I assume that all the oldies had been fast asleep and that she simply slipped back into bed by her old aunt. They all thought she had been sleeping quietly with them. Funnily enough I didn't see her again for the next 6 weeks. Not because we'd been found out but because it was the final phase of her wedding arrangements. The whole family started moving to the bigger bungalow round the corner where here husband to be, on the next night would come on a horse to meet her, marry her and then take her away. 
She was surrounded by hundreds of female relatives dancing laughing and joking with her. Her mother was so protective you couldn't come within a hundred feet of her. The truth was I was a bit mixed up I don't know whether I wanted to talk to her about what happened or what? Anyway, it was irrelevant. I fell severely ill later finding out I had severe dehydration, Hmmm wonder what brought that on! Basically, I missed her wedding, having a fever I couldn't get out of bed. Just as well, since I didn't fancy seeing that lucky bastard marry her. Finally, she'd got married and was crying buckets, when she was leaving she insisted on seeing me even though I was ill, but her mother had refrained her from doing so because she feared I had something catching. 
I had become more withdrawn and quiet during the rest of our trip. Everyone had assumed it was because of me recovering from illness but it had been because I was in deep thought about Geeta. It was odd to see her at Delhi airport, 6 weeks later, still looking as beautiful as ever. She had come all the way from Calcutta to see us off with her husband. I hated seeing that ring on her finger, his hand round her shoulder. Eventually she hugged my mum, began to cry tears of happiness, before finally hugging me tight, quietly whispering, 
"Don't forget me, I will never forget you," she said lovingly. 
As she stepped back she gave me one of those deep looks, looking deep into my eyes. As I turned round they both began to wave at us I didn't look back again, as inside I was welling up with tears, I knew that I was falling for her big time and it hurt to never see her again. As I passed the ticket barriers to board the plane that was the last time I ever saw her again. Funnily enough six months after we had returned to the US we received Geeta's wedding photos. In one of the photo's you can clearly work out a stain on the outside hemline of her wedding saree. I laughed out loud inside when I saw that picture. I also found a pic which had a similar pose to the first time she had dressed up for me in her saree gear. These two pictures I keep close to my heart. I think out of the hundreds of pictures that were taken she deliberately sent us those particular photographs and the two I picked, I think she knew I'd notice they were for me. I still dream about what could have been but it does hurt. 
Unfortunately I'm no literary expert. Parts of the account are vague perhaps even a bit disjointed this is because
a) this happened almost 10 years ago and 
b) I do not remember every single word of conversation I had with Geeta. 
My recount of events do not do the beautiful events I experienced any justice whatsoever. My account probably comes over as sleazy and disgusting deranged fantasy but on the contrary, it was a beautiful passionate and lovely REAL experience, one that I will cherish for the rest of my life without any feelings of regrets or guilt. If I could relive those precious moments again I would without hesitation. Geeta I will always love you and Thank You. I could not have asked for any girl better to have lost my virginity too.