Part 11- View Of The Hills

Another recollection of my brief experiences during my PGDBA days. I was in the first year while Bharti was my senior, though younger in age. She was 27 then. And I must say that she had the biggest breasts of all the females I have seen so far. Definitely with an F cup. She was of a short stature, about 5’2” probably, wheatish complexion, cute face that, if you could ignore her voluptuousness, could make you feel very brotherly towards her. She had a firm body, not so well proportioned but adequately padded with the right amount of flesh at the other places. And it was her massive breasts that “stood out”.

She was one from the Marketing group and so was I. On many occasions we would sit back to back, or across the table face to face in the computer lab. She was the dream-cum true for us guys. She did not seem to have encouraged any boyfriends, though she was obviously well aware of the attention her assets received.

On many occasions, we would try to peek under her skirt, which she often wore to college. That was very juvenile on our part, but such was our desperation. We would take seats next to her, in the Comp Lab and keep glancing sideways to take in as much of her beautiful and bountiful breasts. Often, we would attempt to move behind her revolving seat trying to peek below her shirt from the top. We never succeeded in our attempts much, though.

We all began to doubt if she was fake or original. I, for one, firmly knew that these had to be real. The testing moment came during our annual get-together. Most of the things happen during the get-togethers, don’t they? We were on the terrace, dancing our hearts out to the loud and lewd music. It was late June and we had not expected any disturbances in the weather. But it had been really hot over the past few days. The weatherman, as usual, had not forecasted any rains for the evening.

But it did rain, albeit briefly, but heavily. We ran for cover at the sudden downpour. We rushed to the nearest approach towards the stairs. It was already packed with people who had taken shelter earlier than us. And I found myself thoroughly wet. And next to me, who was it? It was Bharti. She was wet from top to toe and she was busy trying to shake off the water from her hair. Her massive globes were shaking at her movements, and I had an instant hard-on that may have been visible, now that my trousers were wet and hugging. She was facing me now and stood just a foot away. I tried looking away. I am close to 5’8” and for her height, her breasts were near my stomach and from where my eyes were I could easily look down into her.

The top of her kameez was drenched and had stuck to her body like a second skin, revealing nothing to the imagination. Her white brassiere was clearly outlined and it was clear that she had one big original pair inside. She had covered her head with her dupatta, thereby revealing her elusive cleavage. A deep V-cut on her dress and I couldn’t stop my eyes from zooming into her cleavage. And what I saw nearly made my dick jump out but was thankfully restrained by my trousers. A real one there, huge and massive. She made no attempt to cover herself, while I feasted on the unexpected view of her massive mammaries.

I stood grounded and tried to take in more of her globes. As more and more people rushed into the small stairway, we were finding it difficult to accommodate ourselves and there was no option but to come closer to each other. That was my opportunity and I saw my friends winking at me and indicating to me to use the chance to get physical with Bharti.

It was definitely not easy and considering the fact that she was of the reserved type, I did not for a moment think this was possible at all. As the group on the stairway pushed its way down to accommodate more people from the terrace we found that the caterers were also trying to push in their wares into the stairway. I found Bharti and myself at the landing between to flights of stairs and soon we were pushed into the corner where there was a small table holding a flower vase that was now down on the ground. I sat down on the table expecting that somehow it could accommodate more people on the landing. No sooner had I done that, I found Bharti pushed onto my right thigh and she landed on it trying to prevent herself from falling. I held her left arm with my left and my right arm went around her waist just below her massive breasts.

She was profusely apologizing and at the same time trying to get up, but there was not enough space for her to stand anymore.

My only conversation went something like this.

Bharti: I am really so sorry about this.
I: You are not to blame. Just relax. At least you have something to rest on.

And I smiled, even as I casually guided her on my thigh closer to me, by gently pulling her by her waist.

That day I won my long-standing bet with my friends and they seemed to agree with me that her breasts were natural and not enhanced. I was jokingly rebuked by my friends that I missed a golden chance to feel them and that I was lucky to see her pair.

Bharti, I came to know, got married soon after graduation. Her husband may have had a “ball” of a time, I guess. She is now in US, West Coast. I had sent her a friend request on FB and was rejected. She probably did not know me well enough, though we had a lot of mutual friends.

I still masturbate in her name; imagining her offering her breasts to suckle and fucking her in her sweet pussy.