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Endgame

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Three more bends up the hill, and I would be back in the safe havens of the hostel. I had been jogging at quite a brisk pace for over two miles now. But the early morning fog and the ensuing chill caught up every time you stopped for a breather. In this merciless December winter, the body sought warmth above everything else. A lot more was on my mind however, as I stopped by the fifteenth milestone, and surveyed the carefully constructed yet inspired hotness that was Navya. Let me tell you about her. She wasn’t the quintessential hot one who would turn eyes and freeze a room of fifty on sight. Rather, she would grow on you – killing them softly as someone said! Fairer than the average Indian, she had small, firm breasts, a flat tummy, waist perfect for my liking (and just too wide for her liking). And an ass to die for. To stare at her sashay down the road, right in front, with the greyish yoga pants holding onto every bit of that artist’s delight – simpletons as myself would go delirious over and over again. And winter wouldn’t be merciless anymore. Navya and I were good buddies during our MBA days at the picturesque little town of Goa in India. The college campus was atop a hill. One had to navigate past eighteen bends before reaching the top. The four miles stretch had become a hot spot for jogging enthusiasts. And my chubby little friend. My fascination with Navya began with these early morning jogging trips. “Akash” she came up to me one day as we were wrapping up our night time group study session. “I have to start jogging. And you have to get me out of bed every morning. There’s no other way I’m gonna lose weight.” I could have been honest with her, tell her that she didn’t need to. Unless she was planning to go appallingly skinny. Instead, I went for the staying silent version of a white lie. From that day forth, I started having a body-shattering orgasm somewhere around eight in the morning, in the confines of my hostel room, on an everyday basis. Jogging almanbahis şikayet wasn’t all though. Navya followed that up with thirty minutes of work out back in her room. What would I do to get hold of her pants immediately after this? I tried pushing my luck. Given I was the one who had found the work out videos on YouTube for her, I sometime playfully remarked “You have to let me watch you doing that! It already looks bad on the tube. You’d be a disaster!” Some other day, when she would pose the weight question at me, I would say “May be you’re not doing it right! We should do it together sometime.” Yes, I was ready to kill my body even more. But to no fruition. She would brush me off with a “Never gonna happen! I very well know what you are up to. You’re gonna click embarrassing pictures of mine and post those on the social media! Taking me for a fool, are you?” If only she knew what I was up to. If only she knew my craving for her ass. And the pants covering those. For all her brilliance in the subjects, Navya was right little immature when it came to the topic of sex. A big fan of Scarlett Johansson, she had once asked me “How does it feel to be around someone so hot? How do you guys deal with it?” “We jerk off Navya… masturbate,” I had told her, “Have you, ever?” “Eww, no!” Few more days following this routine, and I suddenly had choices to make. This couldn’t continue. I had to develop and execute a strategy to satiate my basic human desires. For a start, I needed to get hold of those yoga pants, the sweat stained ones in particular. Opportunities there were few. And even those got thwarted by the presence of one creature named Eliza. Eliza was another of my batch mates who lived in the room next to Navya. She was slightly healthier and taller than Navya. They were best of friends. The biggest catch here however, was that they had a shared balcony. And that drastically narrowed down my window of opportunity. Almost as if she were aware of my almanbahis canlı casino intentions, Eliza would arrive at Navya’s room the minute Navya got done with her work out session. That is when I would arrive too, on the pretext of going for breakfast. Damn right thwarted! Day after day! What had happened to plain luck? Then one day, right after her work out, as were getting ready to move for breakfast, Navya received a call from the security guard. Apparently, she had dropped her ID card on her way back. Asking me to wait at her room, she hastened out. Miraculously, Eliza didn’t seem to be around. Here was my plain luck! In seconds, Navya’s freshly used grey yoga pants were wrapped around my nose and mouth. That first breath in… I inhaled every bit of her sex that could possible lodge itself inside those wet cotton pants. And I inhaled some more – kissing and biting at it all this while. From the rear I turned to the front, from the ass drapers I moved to the pussy feelers. Somewhere else in my world, the thousand masturbations old dick had gone berserk. CHIP! That was the release cue! Out it came and jerked me off as I sat inhaling the intoxication. A minute later, I sat half dead, half naked in Navya’s room, having just experienced the masturbation of a lifetime. Over the next few days, the law of averages caught up with me. I stayed patient while actually itching to have a go at those pants again. And the opportunity presented itself soon. I must admit I was starting to go desperate. It was Christmas Day, with our winter holidays a week away. Navya had plans to visit her parents during the holidays, and so she had to get her clothes laundered. As we were set to move for breakfast, she thought it would be a good idea to put her clothes in the washing machine before leaving. Stepping back, she gathered a whole cache of used garments, and left for the washing machines which were a good three floors up. But not before hanging her pants on the clothesline almanbahis casino over at the balcony. FLASH! The whole world forgotten, I was sniffing at her pants for all it were worth. But something was wrong. It took me only seconds to realize this. Seconds too late. There was one more person in the balcony, sniffing at Navya’s pants from the other end of the clothesline. Eliza. Caught in the act! Both of us! It seemed all so obvious now. While I had been vying for my window of opportunity, she had been chancing her luck too. And we both kept thwarting each other. I had never quite paid much attention to Eliza. But after this most recent development, the whole idea of Eliza having the hots for my fantasy girl was seriously turning me on. “So”, she asked me “What do we do about this?” “About the pants? Or this whole situation?” “Both I guess” she smirked playfully. I turned to study her. A tomboyish face with short hair, tight, protruding boobs under the t-shirt, the average ass, and slender legs, which as an afterthought were worth paying a second glance at. I remembered that she was a member of the institute sports team. “What’s the endgame you have in mind?” I counter-questioned her. “Definitely not the sneaky masturbation sessions.” I agreed. Jerking off couldn’t be my endgame. And so we decided to somehow seduce Navya before she left for home. Easier said than done. But the winter had heated up to a point of no return. The plan was to invite her over for a late night movie session, and then take things forward. Between Eliza and me, there was much debate in preparation for that night. At Eliza’s insistence, we even went to the ridiculous extent of preparing a script, plan A, B, C and exigency plans – dialogues and actions, in case things didn’t pan out as expected. We argued a lot on who the first one would be to cross the line with Navya, before Eliza was handed that critical job. Five nights after we had prepared the most meticulous of seduction plans, Eliza and I sat in her room, facing each other with nothing to show for all the hard work. Luck and Navya hadn’t at all been on our sides. She had downright refused to waste time watching a movie when she could work on her pending case studies.

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