Hey guys, I am Jaan from Bangalore, about 5 ft 11 in with a medium build – slim but sturdy – and I would say I am decent-looking.
This is a real slice of my life – no hookups or wild flings before what I’m about to share.
I started my post-grad at a top-notch college in Bangalore, and on day one, I spotted her: Nihal (not her real name). She was stunning – adorable yet sizzling hot, with an irresistible charm and height of around 5’8″. Her smile could melt anyone. I still get weak thinking about it.
It all kicked off like this: During breaks, I’d catch glimpses of her hanging with her friends. She was reserved, always surrounded by her group – never alone – so approaching her felt impossible.
For the first six months, she didn’t even notice me. Then, one day, by the elevator, she caught me staring. Her friends had already clued her in about me. After that, we’d exchange glances daily, but another six months dragged by.
Finally, I mustered the guts to propose. It was a Saturday; she was with her crew when I pulled her aside.
Me: “Hi.”
Nihal: “Yeah?”
Me: “I love you.”
Nihal: (shocked) “What?”
Me: “I’m crazy in love with you.”
Nihal: “Look, I don’t love you – or anyone right now.”
Me: “Okay. Think about it for a couple of days and let me know.”
She just walked off. Two days later, I approached her group, but her friend intercepted: “She’s not interested. Leave her alone.”
It stung badly, so I backed off. I don’t smoke, but that day I did. Then, I messaged her on Facebook, thanking her for the chance.
Lucky me – she was online around 11 pm when I sent it. She asked why I loved her, what I liked about her. We chatted till 12:30, me explaining and her saying she’d think about it. I wrapped it up, deciding not to bug her anymore.
Two months passed, then her birthday hit. I called at exactly midnight – the first to wish her. She was stunned, “How’d you get my number?”
I begged to meet her in the morning at college to wish her in person. She agreed.
I’d gotten her thoughtful gifts, waited around – but she ghosted. I was pissed.
I stormed out of college, got hammered, and texted her nonsense. She freaked, worried I’d hurt myself.
From there, we started texting regularly. Over 4 months, she warmed up, becoming my closest friend. She knew my feelings but needed time to sort hers.
One day, we hit Lalbagh, wandering the paths, talking endlessly. On the way back around 8:30 pm, rain poured down hard. We ducked into a nearby park by her place. She was shivering, so I slid my arm around her slim waist, gazing at her gorgeous face – those full lips calling to me.
I leaned in and kissed her softly, deeply. She wasn’t ready – she pulled back, saying she was leaving.
I apologized, explaining I couldn’t hold back my passion, how much I adored her. She softened, said it was okay, but I went quiet, down on myself. She reassured me as we walked to her home.
The weather was perfect – rain picking up again – so we sheltered under a tree again. I kissed her once more, and this time, she didn’t protest.
I pulled her close in a tight embrace, kissing her more deeply. Snapping back, I said sorry and stepped away. We were both silent after that. I dropped her near home.
That night, our chats circled around the kiss – why I did it. Then one day, she admitted she loved me too, but wasn’t fully sure. I was over the moon.
I invited her over when my aunt and uncle (I stay with relatives) were out of town. As planned, I wrapped her in my arms, hugging her fiercely, our bodies pressing together as I kissed her hungrily.
We were total newbies at this, fumbling through our first real smooches. I guided her to the bed, climbed on top, kissing like the world was ending. My hips rocked against hers gently, mimicking that intimate rhythm—all clothes still on, the friction building heat between us.
I got carried away, tugged her t-shirt up to reveal her bra, swiftly lifted a cup, and took her soft breast into my mouth, sucking tenderly. (Size didn’t matter to me; I just loved her.) She pushed back at first but surrendered to the sensation.
She had to leave early, so we parted – but not before one last tight hug.
Later, I apologized for going there without asking, feeling like I’d betrayed her trust. She played it cool, “It’s normal for lovers… but you need to rein it in – it’s not right.”
Me: “I can’t control myself around you. If it were anyone else, maybe – but you’re so damn cute and tempting.”
Nihal: “No, sweetie… You have to. Don’t worry – I’ll keep you in check next time. Muah.”
Me: “So, how was our first time? 😉”
Nihal: “Hmm, I loved it. Felt amazing.”
Me: “The smooches, hugs? What hit you?”
Nihal: “So good. I felt this rush.”
Me: “And when I sucked your breasts?”
Nihal: “Scared at first! But I trust you won’t hurt me. It was weird though – how could you?”
Me: “I crave it, okay?”
Nihal: “How’d it feel for you?”
Me: “Incredible.”
Nihal: “I was all sweaty… gross.”
Me: “That’s what made it salty and delicious – wow.”
Nihal: “Eww… okay.”
Me: “Gonna do it again next time.”
Nihal: “We’ll see.”
We got more chances, escalating slowly. One day, we ended up fully bare (she gave me a mind-blowing blowjob; I wanted to return it, but she wouldn’t let me near her down there).
I asked about marriage – she was unsure, needed more time, so I gave it. I told her we’d meet to talk future, and she should come with her answer on marrying me (she’s in her final year, I’m working now). I’d respect whatever she said. She agreed.
She showed up at my place, but instead of talking, passion took over. I kissed her wildly – our mouths devouring each other, tongues swirling, sucking in every drop of saliva like we were starved.
I led her to bed, stripped off my shirt, and dove back into her lips for a deep smooch. I trailed my tongue down to her neck, sucking and nibbling until she arched with arousal. I pulled off her top, revealing her black bra (I love black lingerie on her).
I kissed her breasts over the fabric, squeezing them firmly – her breath turning to soft gasps, fueling the fire. I slid my tongue down her body, licking her like sweet ice cream (she adores that), teasing her navel with flicks and swirls.
I unzipped her jeans, lapped at her silky thighs, making her moan “hmmm, ahhh, ahhh, muuu” – those sounds drive me insane. I sucked her milky skin till it flushed red.
She flipped on top, showering my face with kisses – teasing like in those steamy movies, lips hovering close without touching until I begged, then she’d claim mine.
She nibbled my earlobes, neck, and chest, pinching my nipples before sucking them hungrily. Damn, the way she toyed with them had me throbbing.
She moved lower, gripping my hardness, whispering it was too big for her tight spot. She kissed from tip to base, stroking playfully, then took me in her mouth for a slow, sensual blowjob.
It felt like heaven for about 10 minutes, but she whined about the size hurting her jaw. So, I pulled her up, hugging her close.
This time, I slid down to repay her (she’d always blocked me before). I licked her inner thighs as she squirmed, knowing my intent, but I nudged her panties aside and pressed my mouth to her warmth (first time for me too).
I sucked gently, but she was uneasy – hadn’t shaved, felt unclean. It lasted only a minute before she begged me to stop. I unhooked her bra, sucked her bare breasts for ages – the taste lingering, her moans echoing in my mind.
She got up to check her phone; I followed, pinned her against the wall, kissing ferociously. Somehow, her panties came off – we were both naked, my hardness grazing her slick heat.
In the heat, I nudged forward a tiny bit without thinking. She gasped.
Nihal: “Why’d you do that?”
Me: “Sorry – I didn’t realize.”
Nihal: “It almost went in.”
Me: “I swear – not on purpose.”
Nihal: “What gets into you?”
Me: “I lose it with you.”
Nihal: “Okay… I got carried away too.”
I hugged her tight, and we just stayed there, frozen for 15 minutes. But sparks flew again – smooches reigniting. I flipped her onto her stomach, placed myself between her cheeks (not inside), thrusting rhythmically till I released on her soft bum, coating it warmly. She was cool with it.
We cleaned up, dressed, and hugged endlessly (I am obsessed with her tiny waist). Finally, I left. I asked her decision; she said no – she had issues. I accepted. Since she wanted friendship, but I couldn’t, we ended it.
Now, I’m in my early 30s, struggling to forget her. We never went all the way in four years – it was pure lovemaking out of respect.
Now, I’m craving that connection. If anyone wants to connect for genuine friendship (no meet-up or with meet-up, just emotional support), please email me.
Thanks for reading my true story – no extras added. Sorry if it didn’t rev you up.
Feel free to drop your thoughts or feedback at [email protected]