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Me and my friend

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Subhu

The apartment was small, just one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a bathroom that barely fit two people standing side by side. It had been their parents’ idea at first—two childhood neighbors heading to the same college, low rent, safety in numbers. Now, six months into their +2 year, it felt less like a practical arrangement and more like home.

Subhu and Rajesh had known each other since they were six. Back then she was the tiny girl next door who climbed walls to steal mangoes from his backyard, and he was the bulky kid who always got blamed when things broke. Years of scraped knees, shared tuitions, secret cigarettes behind the temple, and late-night talks on rooftops had woven them together tighter than most siblings.

Now at 18, that bond had settled into a comfortable, messy domesticity.

---

The morning light filtered weakly through the thin curtains. Subhu woke first, as usual, her small frame curled against Rajesh’s broad back. One of her legs was thrown over his thick thigh, her cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. She was wearing an old oversized t-shirt of his that reached mid-thigh; no bra, as was common once the front door locked. His arm had somehow wrapped around her waist during the night, heavy and warm.

She tried to untangle herself gently, but Rajesh grumbled in his sleep and pulled her closer, his muscular arm flexing instinctively.

“Raj… move, you ox,” she muttered, half-annoyed, half-amused. Her voice was still husky from sleep.

He cracked one eye open. “Five more minutes. You’re warm.”

“You say that every day and then we’re late.” But she didn’t actually pull away. Instead she shifted, letting her smaller body mold against his bulk. They had long stopped questioning how often they woke up like this. Bad sleepers, both of them—restless legs, nightmares, the occasional kick or elbow. It was easier to just let it happen.

Eventually she wriggled free and padded to the kitchen. By the time Rajesh lumbered in, shirtless in only loose shorts, she had tea ready and bread in the toaster. He came up behind her, reaching over her head for the sugar without asking. His chest brushed her back.

“Morning, shorty.”

“Morning, giant. Your turn to clean the bathroom today. I did it yesterday.”

He groaned dramatically. “I hate you.”

“You love me. Pass the butter.”

They ate breakfast at the tiny table, knees bumping. She sat cross-legged in his t-shirt while he scrolled through cricket scores on his phone, occasionally reading funny comments aloud in his deep voice. She laughed, kicking his shin lightly under the table.

Later, while getting ready for college, the familiar dance played out. Subhu stood in front of the mirror in just her panties and a fresh top, rummaging for clothes. Rajesh was on the bed playing a mobile game.

“Raj, turn around. I need to wear this outfit properly.”

He didn’t even look up. “The fuck, I’m busy. Ranked match.”

She smirked, hands on her hips. “Until you want to see, right? Then suddenly you’re free.”

He paused the game, glanced over with a half-grin, then exaggeratedly turned his face to the wall. “Hmph. Happy? Don’t take forever.”

She laughed softly as she hooked her bra and adjusted her clothes. “Idiot. You can look now.”

He turned back, eyes flicking over her for a second longer than necessary before returning to his game. “You look fine. Let’s go.”

---

Evenings were when the closeness felt heaviest.

After classes they cooked together—usually simple dal-rice or whatever they could manage. She chopped vegetables on the counter while he stirred the pots, his big frame taking up most of the space. They argued about salt levels, music choices, and whose turn it was to take out the trash. Then they ate on the couch, plates in laps, watching shows or studying.

Nights were quieter. They shared the single big bed without discussion anymore. Sometimes they stayed up talking about everything and nothing—fears about exams, annoying professors, future dreams. She would lie on her stomach, chin on his chest, while he played with strands of her hair absentmindedly. Other times they just scrolled phones side by side until one of them fell asleep first, bodies inevitably drifting together in sleep.

There was comfort in it. Safety. A kind of intimacy neither had with anyone else.

But lately, something had started shifting.

Rajesh found himself more aware of how small she felt against him at night. The way her nipples occasionally showed through the thin t-shirt when she moved. The soft curve of her hip under his palm when he unconsciously pulled her closer.

Subhu noticed how his muscles tensed under her touch when they hugged. How warm his skin was. How safe and yet thrilling it felt when his large hand rested on her lower back. She told herself it was just because they were so close. Best friends. Nothing more.

One Thursday night, after a long day and a power cut, they lay in the dark, fan whirring lazily above them. The heat made sheets unbearable, so they had kicked most of them off. Subhu wore only his t-shirt again, no bra. Rajesh was in shorts.

She shifted restlessly and ended up half-draped over him, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Raj?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“…Nothing. Just checking if you’re awake.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling under her ear. His big hand came up to rest on her back, rubbing slow circles. “Go to sleep, shorty.”

But neither did right away. The air felt thicker than usual. His fingers traced lightly along her spine through the thin fabric. She didn’t move away.

The weeks blurred together in their little apartment, a rhythm so familiar it felt like breathing.

Mornings usually started the same: tangled limbs, sleepy complaints, shared tea. But lately Subhu noticed small things. How Rajesh’s hand would linger on her waist a second longer when he reached past her in the kitchen. How her own eyes kept drifting to the way his back muscles moved when he did push-ups on the floor while she revised notes on the bed.

One Tuesday evening they cleaned together after dinner. She swept while he mopped, both barefoot. She bumped into him deliberately, giggling when he pretended to lose balance and grabbed her shoulders to steady himself.

“Careful, shorty. You’ll break me,” he teased, voice low.

“Me break you? Please. You’re built like a wall.” She poked his chest with the broom handle. He caught it easily, his large hand wrapping around hers on the stick. For a moment they just looked at each other. Then he let go with a soft “Hmph” and went back to mopping.

Later that night, while studying on the bed, she lay on her stomach in one of his old t-shirts, no bra, legs kicking idly. Rajesh sat against the headboard, textbook in lap. When she stretched, the shirt rode up her thighs. He glanced, then quickly looked away, jaw tightening.

“You okay?” she asked without looking up.

“Yeah. Just… tired.”

She turned her head toward him, chin on arms. “Liar. You’ve been weird lately.”

He shrugged, reaching down to ruffle her hair roughly like he used to when they were kids. “Mind your own business, pest.”

But his touch stayed gentle, fingers brushing her neck longer than necessary. She felt a strange flutter in her stomach and didn’t pull away.

---

Wednesday brought rain. They skipped evening classes and cooked indoors, windows open to the petrichor smell. Subhu chopped onions, eyes watering. Rajesh came behind her, tall frame enveloping hers as he reached for a plate. His chest pressed lightly against her back. She froze for a second, hyper-aware of his warmth and the solid weight of him.

“Salt?” he asked, voice near her ear.

“Already added,” she managed, a little breathless.

They ate in comfortable silence on the couch, her feet in his lap. He absentmindedly massaged her ankle while watching a match. Neither mentioned how natural it felt. How right.

That night they fell asleep facing each other. Her small hand rested on his chest; his arm curled protectively around her. In the dark she whispered, “Raj… do you ever think about how lucky we are? Having this. Us.”

He was quiet for a long time. “Every day.”

---

By Friday the tension was like static in the air—small sparks they both ignored. She changed in front of him more casually. He stopped turning around entirely sometimes, just averting his eyes with a muttered “Tell me when you’re decent.” She teased him about it. He teased back. But underneath, something deeper was stirring: a mix of lifelong trust, new curiosity, and a fear of ruining what they had.

---

**Sunday**

No classes. Rajesh had gone out early for a walk in the nearby park to clear his head. The heat was brutal. Halfway through, his old slippers snapped. Tired and irritated, he dumped them in a dustbin and walked back barefoot, feet sore.

He let himself in quietly, dropped his keys, and headed straight for the shower. The apartment was empty—or so he thought. He stripped fully, muscles aching from the walk, and stepped under the cold water. The shock made him gasp. Blood rushed, and despite himself, he grew hard—his thick, veined 10-inch erection standing heavy and full against his abs in the cool stream. He closed his eyes, letting the water run over his bulky frame, trying to relax.

---

Subhu’s girls’ party had ended abruptly. The friend’s parents returned early, killing the vibe. She came back sooner than expected, humming softly as she unlocked the door. No slippers outside. *He must still be out,* she thought.

The AC was a blessing after the heat. She kicked off her shoes, peeled off her clothes one by one right in the living room—top, bra, skirt, panties—until she stood naked. Her slim, petite body felt cool in the air-conditioned room. She grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it loosely around herself, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up properly.

She pushed the door open without knocking—their usual casual routine.

Cold air and the sound of running water hit her. Then her eyes landed on Rajesh.

He stood there fully naked under the shower, water cascading down his powerful, muscular body. And between his legs—thick, veined, rock-hard, easily twice what she might have imagined—his erection pointed upward, heavy and unmistakable.

Time froze.

Subhu’s eyes widened in pure shock. A small gasp escaped her lips.

Rajesh’s head snapped toward the door. His eyes met hers. For a split second, surprise, then something raw and vulnerable flashed across his face.

She slammed the door shut instantly, heart pounding.

“Shit—Raj! I’m sorry!” she called through the wood, voice high and embarrassed. Her back pressed against the door, towel clutched tight to her chest. Her face burned. She could still see it in her mind—the sheer size, the way it throbbed under the water, his broad shoulders and the stunned look in his eyes.

Inside, Rajesh turned off the shower, breathing hard. “Subhu? Fuck… I thought you were gone.”

“I came back early,” she replied weakly. “I didn’t see your slippers… I thought the house was empty.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with awkwardness and something electric.

“You… saw everything?” His voice was low, almost hesitant. The big, confident Rajesh sounded almost shy for once.

She bit her lip, still flushed. “Yeah. I… yeah.”

Another pause.

“You can come out whenever,” she added softly. “I’ll… go to the room.”

But she didn’t move right away. Her mind raced—with shock, with curiosity, with a warmth spreading low in her belly that she didn’t want to name yet.

---

Rajesh emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, towel wrapped low around his hips, water still dripping from his hair. He looked a little flushed but tried to play it cool, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh… sorry about that,” he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes at first.

Subhu was sitting on the edge of the bed in a fresh t-shirt and shorts, knees drawn up. Her cheeks were still pink. “It’s fine. My fault. I should’ve knocked or… something.”

He shrugged, the big shoulders rolling, and dropped the towel to pull on loose shorts and a tank top. “We’ve seen each other half-naked a hundred times. No big deal, right?”

“Right,” she said, forcing a small smile. Her voice was a touch higher than usual.

They slipped back into their usual rhythm surprisingly fast. He ordered food from their favorite place. She set up the laptop for a movie they’d been meaning to watch. They ate on the couch, shoulders brushing, trading sarcastic comments about the plot like always.

But Subhu couldn’t help it. Her eyes kept drifting—down to the front of his shorts when he shifted or reached for another piece of chicken. The image from the bathroom kept flashing: that thick, veined length, so much bigger than she’d ever pictured. She looked away quickly each time, cheeks warming again.

Rajesh noticed her occasional glances but didn’t comment. He just turned up the volume and bumped her knee with his. “Focus, shorty. You’re missing the good part.”

She rolled her eyes and teased back, “You’re the one who always talks during movies.” The banter helped. The awkwardness faded into the background, but the new awareness lingered like a low hum between them.

---

That night the AC hummed softly. They had fallen asleep in their usual tangle—her small body curled into his side, his heavy arm across her waist. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the nightlight.

Subhu’s eyes fluttered open in the dream.

She was on her back, legs spread. Rajesh hovered over her, his massive frame blocking out everything else. His thick cock—exactly as she’d seen it, heavy, veined, and flushed—pressed against her entrance. She felt the blunt head nudge inside her virgin pussy, stretching her slowly. He pushed in deeper, inch by inch, filling her completely. There was no pain in the dream, only an overwhelming sense of fullness and heat. He started thrusting—slow at first, then deeper, hips rolling with controlled power. His hands gripped her small waist, holding her in place as he fucked her.

“Raj…” she breathed in the dream.

He groaned low, buried to the hilt, and came hard inside her. She felt the hot pulses, the warmth flooding her.

---

Subhu woke with a gasp.

Her body was drenched in sweat. The thin t-shirt clung to her skin, nipples stiff and aching against the fabric. Between her legs, her shorts and panties were soaked—wetness had seeped through. Rajesh was still asleep beside her, one of his thick legs thrown over both of hers, his hand resting heavily near her belly, fingers just below her navel. His breathing was deep and even.

Embarrassment crashed over her like cold water. *Oh god. What the hell is wrong with me?*

Heart hammering, she carefully lifted his arm and slid his leg off her. He grumbled in his sleep but didn’t wake. She slipped out of bed on shaky legs and padded quickly to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She sat on the closed toilet lid in the dark, breathing fast. The wetness between her thighs felt obscene. Shame burned in her chest… but so did the throbbing need. Almost without thinking, her hand slid under the waistband of her soaked shorts and panties.

Her fingers found her slick folds—swollen, slippery, aching. She bit her lip to stay quiet and started touching herself. Small circles at first on her clit, then dipping inside. The memory of the dream played on loop: his size stretching her, the way he moved, the feeling of him cumming deep. Her breathing grew ragged. She rubbed faster, two fingers plunging in and out while her thumb worked her clit.

It didn’t take long. Her thighs trembled, toes curling against the cool floor. A sharp, muffled whimper escaped as the orgasm hit—waves of pleasure rolling through her petite frame. Her pussy clenched around her fingers, more wetness flooding out.

For a moment she just sat there, panting, head against the wall.

Then the regret rushed in, heavy and cold. *He’s my best friend. What am I doing? This is going to ruin everything.*

She washed her hands thoroughly, splashed cold water on her flushed face, and stared at her reflection in the dim light. Messy hair, wide eyes, guilty expression. She dried off, changed into fresh panties and shorts from the laundry basket, and quietly returned to bed.

Rajesh was still sleeping peacefully. She slipped in beside him, careful not to wake him, and curled up on her side facing away this time.

Sleep took a long time to come back.

---

The night had been restless for Subhu after the bathroom incident. She finally drifted off again sometime after 4 AM, curled on her side facing away from Rajesh, trying to ignore the lingering warmth between her legs and the confusing swirl of guilt and curiosity in her chest.

---

Morning light was still faint when she stirred. The table fan hummed on low, blowing a steady breeze across the bed. She woke slowly, body heavy with sleep, and became aware of several things at once.

Rajesh’s large frame was spooned behind her. One of his heavy arms had slipped under the oversized t-shirt she wore—his t-shirt. His warm palm rested on her bare belly, fingers splayed just below her ribs. His morning wood pressed firmly against her ass through his shorts—thick, hot, and unmistakably hard. The same size she had seen yesterday.

Her breathing quickened. She lay there frozen for a few seconds, heart thudding. The contact felt too intimate, too much, yet her body responded with a fresh wave of heat.

Carefully, she tried to ease his hand out from under her shirt. She pulled his wrist upward gently, hoping to guide it back to safer territory.

Because his hand was already inside the loose shirt, the movement only dragged his palm higher—straight onto her bare left breast. His big hand cupped the soft B-cup mound completely, fingers instinctively closing in a light squeeze as he shifted in his sleep.

Subhu’s breath hitched sharply. Her nipple hardened instantly against his palm.

Rajesh stirred with a low, sleepy grunt, still mostly snoring. His hips pushed forward once, pressing his thick erection more firmly between her thighs from behind. His hand squeezed her breast again—gentle but possessive in sleep—before relaxing.

She startled, eyes wide. A rush of shock, embarrassment, and unwanted arousal flooded her. *Oh fuck, oh fuck—*

The moment his grip loosened she quickly pushed his hand out from under the shirt entirely, heart racing like it would explode. She lay very still, pretending to be asleep, breathing shallow.

Rajesh mumbled something incoherent and rolled slightly onto his back. His erection was still prominent, tenting his shorts.

Subhu’s mind was spinning. After a moment of hesitation, she “absentmindedly” stretched in her sleep, raising one arm above her head. The oversized t-shirt rode up high—exposing her bare breasts and stomach completely to the cool fan breeze.

She kept her eyes closed, listening.

A few minutes later Rajesh woke properly. She heard him sit up slowly, the bed creaking under his weight. There was the sound of him reaching for the water bottle on the side table, drinking deeply.

Then a quiet, groggy mutter: “What time is it…? Today is holiday i guess”

He checked his phone. “5 ok… wtf this girl.”

Subhu felt the mattress shift as he leaned over her. With surprising gentleness for someone half-asleep, he tugged the hem of the t-shirt down, carefully covering her exposed breasts and belly without lingering or touching skin directly. He even tucked the bottom edge lightly into the waistband of her shorts, making sure she was decent again.

Then he lay back down with a heavy sigh and was soon snoring softly once more.

Subhu stayed perfectly still for the next thirty minutes, eyes shut, heart still pounding wildly in her chest. Every nerve felt alive. The memory of his hand on her breast, his hardness pressing against her, and the casual care with which he had covered her afterward mixed into something she couldn’t name.

Eventually she couldn’t lie there anymore. She slipped out of bed quietly, padded to the bathroom, and shut the door. She pressed both palms to her flushed face, hiding from her own reflection.

*This is getting dangerous…* she thought, a mix of regret, thrill, and deep affection twisting inside her.

Rajesh was still snoring peacefully when she returned and curled up on her side of the bed, facing away from him again, mind racing long after the sun had fully risen.

---

Author note: so how should I start next part ? Comment

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Comments (4)

  • Jazz Man: About as BOREING as a story can get!

    Reply↴ • uid:8bvxjnsqrd
    • Kitty: You just cant handle a slow build up i bet all the girls love you!

      • uid:1ebz1semnl5m
  • Holly: Holy shit I need the next part that was so fucking good

    Reply↴ • uid:2wz95vkgzm
  • Sam: You really shouldn't sorry utter trash . To much repeating .

    Reply↴ • uid:4qr1xuv9j