Midnight Sun – Part 1

Valentine’s Day. The biggest celebration of love. The day you are supposed to love everything you cherish. And cherish everything you love. Family, relatives, pets, and even strangers.

There should be no degrees or categories to love. Love is love. It is meant to be pure and absolute. And yet, society categorises love as dictated by social norms and practices. As a result, we have parental love, sibling love, love for friends, pet love, and romantic love, to name a few.

Each category of love is supposed to be different from the others. For example, parental love is different from romantic love. And both are totally separate from love for pets. Which begs the question, which category is superior to the rest?

I have always grappled with the answer to this question. Am I supposed to choose my parents over my partner? Or my brother over my friends? What would be the correct answer? What would be the right choice?

I found the answer a few years ago on Valentine’s Day. But I didn’t realise it then. Over time,, and after a lot of introspection, I have come to realise the truth. That there is no correct answer, no right choice.

I have come to believe that it is entirely up to you to decide who you value the most in your life. There is no shame if that person happens to be a stranger. I know that to be the truth in my case. I choose my 1st love – my 1st romantic love – above everybody else.

Chapter 1 – The Casanova Traveller

They say First Love is always special. You can never really forget your 1st love. But I had little knowledge of it back then. It was February2019, and I was 19 years old.

We were out on a weeklong camping trip to the Sunderbans. By ‘we’, I refer to a big group of students from my college. By ‘camping’, I mean sightseeing, bird watching, and tiger spotting. An endless sojourns across the many rivers of Sunderbans in rickety old wooden boats.

We booked our accommodations at the government-run tourist lodge of Sajnekhali, located in the Sunderban National Park. On the very 1st day of our stay, we destroyed the peace and tranquillity of the serene forest.

It was our loud chatter, boisterous laughter, the constant ringing of smartphones, and a never-ending desire to take hundreds of selfies in large groups. But what caught my attention was the presence of an equally rowdy group of tourists in the adjacent lodge.

They were a truly riotous lot of 6 people who eclipsed us in loudness and disorderly conduct. That group had only 1 man, probably in his 30s. He was always surrounded by 5 young girls who accompanied him everywhere. The babes wore skimpy clothes.

It made them an eyesore in the pristine forest landscape. However, some of the boys in my group considered them as eye candy. Most of the female tourists at the lodge were middle-class Bengali housewives dressed in sarees and young Bengali girls in jeans and chinos.

None was as scantily clad as those 5 noisy babes. They were always seen in micro miniskirts and hot pants, with tank tops and off-shoulder tees.

“Those guys are wildlife photographers from the National Geographic channel,” one of my college mates, Pallavi, informed me. “I found out from the manager of the lodge this morning.”

“These glam dolls are photographers?” I found that hard to believe.

“Not those girls,” Pallavi corrected me. “The guy is the wildlife photographer. The girls are probably his colleagues or companions. Or whatever.”

“Hmm. So he is the photographer, and they are the wild ones,” I said sarcastically. “They are certainly wild enough to put the wildlife of Sunderbans to shame.”

Pallavi laughed at my dark humour and walked away. And I took a long,, hard look at the guy. Tall, dark, with a head full of curly hair and a face full of stubble. The scruffy look might be a big draw for babes. But I have always preferred the vintage, clean-shaven appearance of a man.

What impressed me more than his looks was his camera. A big, black, shiny Nikon with long telescopic lenses hanging from his neck. The strap had the words ‘National Geographic’ printed on it. And unlike us, he mostly took photos of nature and the jungle.

It was on the 2nd day that I got to speak to him for the first time. Both the groups – his as well as mine – were on the same ferry to visit the Tiger Watch Tower. It was located a few kilometres down the river. Our groups filled up all the space on the ferry.

And the boys from my college started ogling at the 5 sexy sirens who were as noisy as usual. I was sitting on the roof of the ferry and taking pics of the dense mangrove forests on either side of the river. That was when he walked up to me and initiated a conversation.

“You are holding the camera against the light,” were his 1st words.

I stared at him. He was in a t-shirt and shorts, with his camera hanging from his neck and a stubble on his face. He was away from his group, which seemed odd.

“Excuse me?” I could not figure out what he meant.

“You will not get a sharp picture if the sunlight falls on your camera,” he said. “Try to have your back towards the light.”

“You seem to know a lot about cameras,” I responded mockingly. “I am just trying to catch a glimpse of a tiger in those forests.”

“Not possible,” he replied with certainty. “This is my 4th trip here, and I have never been able to spot a tiger from the boat. The dense mangrove trees make it impossible.”

That’s how we got to chatting. It started with cameras and pics and tigers. And then, we moved on to introducing ourselves.

“Hi, I am Shilpi,” I told him a few minutes later.

“Hi, I am Vic,” he extended his hand for a handshake.

“Vic? Full name, please. Else, I am not shaking your hand,” I was pretty curt and straightforward.

“Alright then,” he smiled. “Vikrant, that’s my name. So Shilpi, what’s your story?”

“What’s yours?” I retorted.

“I am a nature photographer with the National Geographic. I am a traveller. I travel every month. My work takes me places. I am here on both business and pleasure.”

“Great! I am in college and am here with my college mates on a fun trip,” I said. “That’s my story.”

He smiled again. We chatted for a while. He tried to teach me how to use his camera like a pro. I began to like him more and more. Just before we reached our destination, I could not help but ask, “Who are those 5 girls you are travelling with?”

“They are my girls,” he replied matter-of-factly. “You know, friends. You could call them my girlfriends.”

“You have 5 girlfriends!” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “You are quite the Casanova, travelling with 5 girls in your arms.”

“I am a pilgrim on this earth. A wanderer. They give me company and love,” he smiled before walking away.

I told Pallavi about my conversation with Vikrant. She said he was a bad apple and asked me to stay away from him.

“He seems nice, you know?” I said. “I kind of like him.”

“So does a moth when it flies towards the fire,” she scoffed. “Till it is too late. A man who walks and sleeps with 5 women should not be trusted.”

Chapter 2 – The Lonely Wanderer

I should have listened to my friend’s advice. I didn’t. Call it youthful exuberance or stupid naiveté. I kept thinking about him and staring at him, having fun with his babes. Feeling jealous and longing for something without knowing what it is.

We did not spot a single tiger that day. We blamed it on bad luck, while the boatman blamed the noise we made. Tigers do not show up when they hear too much noise, he said.

We returned to our lodge in the evening and had an early dinner. Afterwards, I sat on the porch, gazing at the night sky. Suddenly, I noticed animal eyes glowing in the dark at a distance. I froze in fear.

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed loudly. “Tigers!”

“Those are deer,” a voice said behind my back, “not tigers. Tigers do not live in this area. Those are deer eyes staring at us.”

I looked behind and saw Vikrant standing with his camera and a flash. He quickly took a few shots. The blinding brightness of the flash startled the animals. The deer ran deep into the jungle.

“I did not hear you coming,” I told him. “What are you doing in our lodge? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed with your girlfriends?”

“They are like fireflies,” he pulled a chair and sat next to me. “Glowing today, gone tomorrow. As long as they glow, they keep the darkness away. They brighten up my life.”

I felt intrigued. He sounded more like a philosopher than a photographer. “What darkness are you referring to?” I asked inquisitively.

“I am a nomad. A vagabond,” he replied in a solemn tone. “I have no home, no family, no one to love. I have never stayed at a place for long. Never had a meaningful relationship with a woman. I am forever living in exile. Always a stranger in a strange land.”

I listened to him in silence. My heart went out to him. His words hit me deeply, igniting the pain of my loneliness. I was not alone. I was surrounded by family and friends all the time. Yet, I was lonely at heart. But I had never been as internally despondent as he seemed to be.

He sought meaning in life through fleeting relationships. Whereas I always wanted to get away. I wanted a mate, and I didn’t want to feel lonely anymore. I pulled my chair close to his and held his face in my palms. I don’t remember what came over me, but I planted a kiss on his lips.

He was neither surprised nor startled. And opened his lips to kiss me back. We kissed for long. We kissed deeply. We were lucky nobody saw us. My college mates were busy singing and dancing around a bonfire at a distance. And his girlfriends were nowhere to be seen.

“I have seen how you look at me,” he said afterwards. “You are as lonely as I am. I have spent 30 years not living life. Ruining it for myself and others. I keep thinking I can make a fresh start. And I would like to do that with you.”

“But you are 30, and I am still in college,” I said.

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“Not as much as your 5 girlfriends do,” I replied in mock sarcasm. “I don’t want to be your 6th.”

“You don’t have to be,” he assured me. “I have found my Sun. I don’t need fireflies anymore.”

Chapter 3 – The Thirsty Pilgrim

That night, Vikrant got his girlfriend stone drunk. The 5 girls finished off an entire bottle of vodka in less than an hour. They dozed off to sleep in the living room of their lodge. Making it easy for me to sneak in.

Vikrant and I slept in his bedroom, lying beside each other, fully clothed. It was my 1st time sleeping with a man on his bed. We were practically strangers in the morning. And slept in each other’s arms by midnight. Doing nothing but kissing, touching and petting each other.

An awkward feeling woke me up in the middle of the night. It was pitch dark inside the room and outside. My back was facing his front. And something hard was poking at my bottom. It took me a few minutes to figure out what it was. It did not make me angry or upset.

I had anticipated this to happen sooner or later. I moved my hips forward a few inches to avoid contact. To my surprise, there was an immediate movement from his side. He moved forward a few inches as well. And touched his hardness on my butt again. This time rubbing it a bit.

I realised his intentions. Both of us were fully clothed in night pyjamas. But desire does not respect barriers. Nor can it hide impulsions. I decided to play along and take it up a notch. The inexperience of youth led me to the desire to act on a whim.

I pushed back against his erection and pressed my ass hard on his stiffness. Making him realise that I was awake and in the mood to play. He was probably stunned initially by my unexpected reaction. But he quickly regained his composure and pressed forward with equal force.

His erection got stiffer and bigger, making it clear to me that he was not wearing underwear. This continued for a few minutes. Both of us were breathing heavily. The tension in the air was palpable. Till he decided to ratchet it up by pulling down his pyjamas and exposing his cock.

He rubbed his bare naked cock on my butt. Even though I was fully clothed, it sent shivers down my spine. My heart started pounding louder. His dick started getting firmer till it became so rigid that it pushed my hips back. He didn’t stop there.

Emboldened by my cooperation and lack of resistance, he silently moved his hand forward across my waist. And tugged at the drawstring of my pyjamas, loosening it to pave the way for his next course of action. He swiftly pulled down my pyjamas below my hips and rubbed his rigid cock on my panties.

I could feel his hardness closer to my skin, this time due to the flimsy fabric of the panty. My heartbeats shot through the roof. I held my breath in nervous anticipation.

Realising that there would be no resistance from me, he did the unthinkable. He grabbed the waistline of my panties at the back and pulled it below my hips slowly. My butt was now exposed to his naked cock. And he pressed it firmly on the crack of my ass.

It was rock hard and pushed its way between my soft ass cheeks to touch my asshole. I squeezed my bum and kept my legs tightly closed. There was no way I was going to grant him access to either of my secret spots, even though all this shoving and rubbing had made me wet.

He poked and pushed but could not insert his dick into my asshole. Unhappy and dissatisfied, he shifted his attention to my pussy. My legs were firmly closed, but he kept trying to shove his rod inside. The best he could achieve was to rub the tip of his cock on my pussy lips. But he could not gain entry.

Desperate and frustrated, his animal instincts went into overdrive. He kept pushing in and out and poked at my vulva repeatedly. I was scared he might manage to push through. Worse, I did not trust myself with keeping my legs closed much longer.

I had to respond now. Take matters into my own hands. I reached behind and grabbed his cock with my hand. And I grasped it tightly. He paused. Stopped his poking and pushing. I took some time to get accustomed to the extreme rigidity I was holding in my hand. And then I let it go and touched his balls.

I played with them, rubbed them and squeezed them. I touched his crotch and was happy to find it clean-shaven. I grabbed his cock again and touched its tip. It was wet with pre-cum. I stroked it, pulled it and jerked it a few times. It began to twitch and shake on its own.

I began to jerk him off. Got into a rhythm and tugged at it harder and faster. It was enough to send him over the edge. He started pumping my hand with his erect dick. Thrust it repeatedly and impatiently. And then he discharged right inside the crack of my ass.

His cum was sticky and gooey, dense and creamy. It coated my ass and asshole before trickling down onto the bed. I was relieved, and he was satisfied. And then I turned around to face him.

“Next time, ask for my permission,” I kissed him. “Don’t sneak up on me when I am asleep. I don’t like it.”

Chapter 4 – The Dream Lover

We hardly slept that night, which was necessary as I had to sneak out before the wild bunch woke up in the morning. Drunk and passed out. They didn’t notice me coming and going. That is exactly what me and Vikrant wanted.

I did inform Pallavi, though, of my encounter last night. She was more worried than happy. But she did something only a true friend would do. She handed me a couple of condoms and i-pills.

“I know I can’t change your mind,” she said. “You are too stubborn and will not listen to me. But there is no reason to be stupid. Use these.”

I thanked her and went to look for Vikrant. It was the 3rd day of our trip, and I wanted to make the most of my time. That is why I jumped at Vikrant’s radical proposal that morning. He suggested that the 2 of us should run away for a couple of days to spend time with each other.

“There are too many people here,” he said, “and we need to find some peace. Let’s live like nobody’s ever lived before. Wicked. Brave. Wild.”

His words resonated with me instantly. I could hope for nothing less than to spend the next 2 days in his embrace. Far away from the madding crowd. Lost in a world of dreams. I informed Pallavi of our plan and forbade her to disclose it to anyone else.

I just took my handbag and a change of clothes and tiptoed to Vikrant’s lodge. He was waiting with a canvas bag and his camera. And we left quietly and silently during lunch hour. We took a boat ride to the tiger camp, followed by another to the deep heart of the forest.

In a couple of hours, we had reached uninhabited land. Or uncharted waters, to be more precise, since we were still on the boat. Vikrant hired a rickety old wooden boat for 2 days. Just the boat, no boatman. The idea was to live on the boat on the river. The forest was too dense and too risky.

As it turned out, we not only lived on the boat, we also ate, slept, peed and fucked on it too. To maintain a safe distance from wild animals, the boat had to be anchored right in the middle of the river. And I found it impossible to find a suitable spot to pee.

“I need to pee,” I wailed, “right now.”

“Use this,” he handed me an aluminium mug that looked as ancient as the boat. “I found it inside the boat’s cabin.”

“I have to pee in this shitty mug?” I was appalled.

“Yes, honey. There’s no other option. Can’t get down into the waters and can’t pee inside the boat,” he smiled. “Empty it into the river once you are done.”

“You can’t stand here while I pee,” I told him. “Go inside the cabin and don’t peek.”

“I am not going anywhere,” he chuckled. “You have to get used to my presence. To compensate, I will allow you to stare at me when it’s my turn to pee.”

“Ha ha! Very funny,” I said in irritation. But I also realised that I didn’t have much of a choice.

He watched me shamelessly while I peed into the mug. I felt so embarrassed that it cannot be described in words. I emptied the mug into the river and then realised I wasn’t carrying toilet paper.

“I need toilet tissues,” I said without getting up.

“We don’t have any. Forgot to bring them,” he replied. “I am afraid you have to use your hand and water.”

He walked towards me with a plastic glass filled with water. And sat down right in front of me. “Use my hand instead of yours if you like,” he said. And poured water on his palm.

I sat in stunned silence and disbelief as he extended his hand to wash my privates. I tried to get up, but he held me down by my shoulder. My jeans and panties were down to my knees. And his hand splashed water all over my slit. Again and again.

He washed me. He touched me. He played with my clit and fingered me. He parted my pussy lips and inserted his finger slowly. It sent so many shockwaves through my body that my knees started trembling.

He opened the fly of his pants and squatted on the floor of the boat. Out popped his sturdy cock, stiff and erect like a pole. He pulled me by my arms and made me sit on his lap with my back towards him. And lifted my hips with his hands to place me on his dick.

All this happened so fast and so unexpectedly that I didn’t get any time to react. But suddenly, my precautionary instincts kicked in. I remembered Pallavi’s warning. And pulled out a condom from the pocket of my jeans.

I removed the wrapper and rolled the condom down his rigid cock. It wasn’t huge, but it was very hard. I couldn’t even take a proper look at it. Both of us were caught in a tidal wave of passion, and there was no time to waste.

I had never peed in public before that day and never had sex in public, either. I did both for the 1st time that day. Under the open sky, in the middle of nowhere, I positioned my pussy on his cock and lowered myself.

It had been a long time since I had sex before that day. Insertion after a long gap caused some pain and discomfort. But I was soaking wet, and he was rock hard. Nothing was going to stop us from fulfilling our desires.

I rocked gently on his lap, up and down, forwards and backwards. The boat rocked, too, slowly and quietly on the river. But something was amiss. Something didn’t feel right.

I got up from his lap and removed my jeans and panty completely. I pulled off the condom from his dick and threw it in the river. I then sat down again on his lap, facing him this time. And took his naked cock inside my bare pussy.

“I want to look into your eyes,” I whispered. “I want to feel you inside me without any barrier.”

We fucked like wild animals after that. Without shame or hesitation. All day and night. And he filled me with his cum each time. Nothing could compare with the feeling of having his warm thick cum dumped inside me. I felt happy, content and at peace.

“You are my midnight sun,” he exclaimed.

“And you are mine,” I replied.

To Be Continued.

Next Part: Midnight Sun – Part 2

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