Part 1 of a series about tales of a repressed teen and her slow discovery into the world of sex.

Being from South Asia means there will always be a restriction to sex, to accept it as something normal. It is not considered just a natural human instinct but something that is talked bout in whispers behind closed doors; away from the earshot of the civil society.Looking back, if I had been given proper lessons on human anatomy or what sex actually is, what makes a baby and what is good/bad, I might have taken a very different road in life. But alas, that part of my life is over. Today, this is the story of me as a flawed human, as a 20 year old, recollecting my past sins and pleasures. Both the good and bad. “A woman is defined by the swells of her breasts”.

Teenage years, an age where girls stopped thinking guys of their class were ‘icky’ and ‘disgusting’. That very notion changed to ‘rugged’ and ‘manly’. Forbidden stories of kissing and making out would cause huge scandals among the student body, who both felt disgusted and envious of such raunchy encounter details. Needless to say, ofcourse, these stories were overhyped by baseless and false details, often times a kiss in real turned into a messy hot grope on the most tender breasts in the story. Just like rumors seem to flow everywhere in the world,each encounter was lavishly polished with overbearing teenage hormones and fake fantasies injected into them.So each time a rumor was heard, the story progressed until “atleast” there was an older girl’s soft breast filling a boy’s hungry mouth or a thick finger of an older boy inside a moaning junior girl’s underwear. It could never be less than that. You did it between seniors and juniors, people who are a year or two older or younger than you, never your classmates. That was not ‘cool enough’. If given even half a minute alone, without any supervision, that’s what teens thought they would do to each other. And this started to be normalized, even though the rumors that fueled them were nothing ever so scandalous in real.By the age of 16, I had started hearing rumors of atleast 4 of my female friends losing their ‘precious’ virginity to senior hotties who were 17 and edgy. The ‘bad boys’ of their batch. 8-9 other girls swore this “senior you wouldn’t know even if I told you his name” had taken them into the bathroom after school ended and had sucked on their growing curves so deliciously that they had moaned and almost gotten caught by a teacher who just happened to be ‘passing by’. I did sometimes wonder where all these girls found so many senior boys I wouldn’t even know the name of, but being a repressed 16 year old to whom sex was a taboo topic at home and class, and who got to listen to wild stories for free from her classmates about their daring escapades, I tended to believe their tales of bravado.Whispered tales of how a breast looks while swollen and red and what a boy’s thick cock looks filled with blood were the only topics any 16 year old could talk about between themselves. It was the conversation of lunch times, free class periods and conversation before a teacher arrived in a coaching class. Any free moment was spent talking about the opposite gender’s nude body.Because as we all know, the more something is marked as forbidden, the more it is the human nature to crave it.One day, about a few days after my best friend turned 16, she came to me to confess something she had done about a week prior. It was important enough that she ‘had to’ interrupt my lunch. She was quick to assure me she hadn’t done anything with a boy because “you’d be the first one to know!” being her best friend and all. No. She had apparently gotten some practice in with some girls. At that point in life, heterosexuality was the only one that existed in our world. Homosexuality or asexuality were concepts that weren’t never even a thing. Straight people only existed, there were no other sexualities in our tight little repressed world. And noone even questioned it.So she started telling me her tale with a blush on her tanned face and a naughty sparkle in her eyes. For the purpose of anonymity we’ll rename my best friend to ‘Jane’. Right after a day or two after her 16th birthday celebration, 4 girls from our class went over to her house to hang out with her. Jane and the girls had been friends since childhood and I really did not get along with them, so I was not at the scene. The girls were very much at a phase in life where jewellery, latest fashion, dramatic soap operas and ‘forbidden’ scandalous affairs with boys were their only interests. So was a desperate need to grow their breasts faster and more plump so they would have more tales of their own. It was a hot Summer’s day and all 6 of the girls piled into Jane’s house after school ended at 12 noon. Jane’s mother was out till 5pm for her job at the office and the girls’ had the whole house to themselves. It began like any other normal hangout, with snacks, lunch and an ungodly ton of teen screaming and playing tag. By 3 pm, they were all a mess of sweaty kids who had played around for hours running in the heated house. So someone of the 6 got a brilliant idea of them taking a shower. Together. All of them.Jane was a bit hesitant because if her mom found out she had guests over while the house was empty, she would be in very deep shit. Brown mothers were not very picky about their choice of weapon to teach you a lesson. Girls are also taught not to bathe in the presence of another, especially at ‘this age’. But her friends wanted to shower over at her place and ofcourse saying no would make her uncool and stingy, so she agreed to the haggles of 16 year old ‘fashionistas’.Bathtime started with all of them slowly taking their clothes off, all except their underwear. Bras and panties stayed as they hid the secrets of a growing woman and their newly budding body. The shower was turned on and all of them took turns under the steady spray of cold water. As excepted, there were tons of splashing and hysterical laughter. Jokes shared about what happened in school and at home. The topic eventually turned to boys. Ofcourse it did. It was inevitable. They started to talk about how boys of their year seemed so rough and dirty while the senior boys (only a year older) seemed so cool and collected. As the girls washed their bodies with their own small hands, they talked about how amazing it must feel to have those seniors do this instead. To have big hands slide all over their unmarred skin, for the heat of another, bigger, stronger body to cover theirs. One of the other 5 lamented over the fact that those ‘cool’ seniors would never look their way coz their breasts were still “too small”. Not even a handful. To them, why would a boy want to grope their tiny breasts when he could have a mouth and handful of a big busted 18 year old girl? Their love lives were ruined even before it began.Someone suddenly piped up saying she had heard her much older sisters discussing among themselves about something similar. A solution to this problem. Apparently if you regularly had your breasts thoroughly massaged at their developing age by a man, your breasts will flourish and turn plumper with each massage. That was the secret to getting nice, thick breasts. To have a boy regularly work on them. The girls listened spell bounded. Finally a secret way verified by older women! It must be true! But to their dismay, there was no boy present there. So the girls decided to do the next best thing. To try and help each other grow during this shower. One girl sneaked up behind Jane and unhooked her bra. Jane gasped and held her bra against her naked frail breasts. She was too shy to let them see. But the girls insisted. They told Jane that she had to start, seeing as she was the hostess of this little party and really they were all girls and friends here…what was there to be shy about? She removed her bra slowly, revealing to them her ‘shameful’ and developing little moulds of softness. The girls stared transfixed for a second before an inexperienced hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of delicate breast. Jane gasped. She had not known such a strange feeling before. The feeling on another human hand touching her body with such meaning. She let out a small moan when the hand pressed harder, watched as small nimble fingers imprints sank into her untainted skin. The whole of her small breast fit into the dainty hand. Slowly more hands joined her body as more discarded bras joined the floor. At this point Jane had her head bowed low, a fierce blush staining her cheeks as she tucked her smooth black hair behind one ear , while she told me about more of her experience.Several hands grasped at several small breasts while the owners moaned and returned the favour. All 6 girls proceeded to slowly rub each other’s breasts, pinching the small nipples and twisting them, earning yelps of pain and g
roans of pleasure all around.They caressed one another, finding pleasure in the cold water and the wandering hands. They were all friends, this was safe. The shower gel joined in, making the young bodies even smoother, even easier to glide one’s hand against. This kept on for a long time.Jane said she remembers getting out that bath at 4-ish, a little scared but very happy. Her eyes shone as she told me how sore her breasts felt for an entire day afterwards, how even the touch of her bra on her delicate skin felt a bit painful. But she felt good about herself. She said, although the girls came to the conclusion that only a boy’s touch would grow their soft flesh into a lady’s bosom, they were determined to practice the secret massage on themselves everyday until they found a boy to do it for them. Jane giggled and made me promise I’d not tell anyone in our class what had transpired between her and the girls. I swore I wouldn’t and I kept my word. She beamed at me, thanked me for listening and ran off to talk to someone else. I looked back to see the once shy Jane running to a senior boy we had talked to a handful of times and latching onto his arm. I stared shocked, as she purposefully clung to his hand, shoving his arm tightly between the small swell of her breasts. The senior looked taken aback and turned bright red. But after a few more rubs of the soft moulds against his arm, he seem to ease into the contact, bumping his elbow purposefully deeper against her growing breasts, while Jane giggled and pressed closer into his touch.I turned away, shaking my head. My brain could not understand the sudden change in Jane or that her once shy attitude was now gone to replace a more bolder side. I, as an ignorant 16 year old simply went back to my lunch.