Romantic Night with My Friend’s Sister – Part 2

I’m Sohail—a techie who earns well, living life my way in the beautiful city of Bangalore. Storywriting is my hobby, and connecting with my readers is my passion. This is my tale with Nida, my friend’s sister.

My heart is racing. I grabbed the water jug from the table, splashing it on her face, hoping she’d wake up. The water dripped down her face, rolling to her neck, then to her chest. Soaking her blouse, making the fabric cling to her milky skin. I kept splashing water and didn’t know what to do.

“Please, Nida, open your eyes!” The water spilt everywhere, soaking my pants and reaching my underwear, the cold wetness making me shiver. Finally, her eyes fluttered open, weak but awake, her breathing shaky.

I felt a rush of relief, “Thank God!” I shouted, and out of excitement, I hugged her tight, pulling her close. She hugged me back, her hands wrapping around me, her fever-warm body against mine. My chest pressed against her boobs. I could feel them through the wet blouse.

The warmth and softness made my heart race even more. My hands touched her bare back where the blouse had slipped into the water, making it slick. We stayed like that, hugging her head on my shoulder, my arms around her. Slowly, we shifted, lying down on the bed.

We were still hugging, our bodies close, almost like a couple. Her smell—the soft aroma of her skin, a mix of sweat and something sweet—was driving me crazy. But it wasn’t sexual, just… close, warm like we needed each other at that moment.

Somewhere in the hug, my shirt pulled up a bit. I felt her bare tummy against mine, her wet saree slipping. We weren’t in that mode. It was more like a deep, caring hug, one that went on, both of us lost in the moment.

Then we realised—we pulled back quickly, her face red, shy, her hands covering her chest where the wet blouse stuck to her. I looked away, my heart pounding, “I’m… I’m sorry, Nida.” She nodded, her voice small, “It’s okay…”

We sat up, both awkward, the bedsheet near her as she tried to cover herself more. I took a deep breath, “Nida, let me call a doctor. If this keeps happening, we might need to admit you to a hospital.” Her eyes went wide, “No, no, please! I don’t want that.”

“Okay, but let me understand what’s happening. Tell me how you’re feeling.” She looked down, shy, “Just… weak… and hot… I don’t know why I fainted.”

I grabbed my phone and called the doctor, putting it on speaker so Nida could hear.

I lied, “Doctor, I dropped her off at her relatives, but she fainted.” The doctor’s voice was serious, “Okay, first, her fever is too high. Get one more medicine—(she said the name) and give it now. Her relatives need to remove her clothes and let her sleep nude. Our first focus is to reduce the fever. The clothes are keeping her hot. If possible, admit her to a hospital—she needs to be in hospital.”

I glanced at Nida, her face red with shyness, and said, “No,” I lied again, “I’ll call her relatives and tell them the same. Thanks, doctor.” I hung up, looking at Nida. She said, “Let’s try for a few more hours.” I went out in the rain to the pharmacy and brought the prescribed medicine, but I got a little drenched.

I gave her a tablet. “Nida,” I said softly, my voice low, “you heard the doctor… we need to reduce your fever. Your clothes… they’re wet, and it’s making you hotter.” She shook her head quickly, “No… I can’t… It’s too much.” Her voice was small, her innocence clear, her eyes looking down.

I felt bad, but her health mattered more. “I know you’re shy,” I said, “but the doctor said it’s best. I’ll turn away, and you can use the blanket to cover yourself. I won’t look, I promise.” Her hands were trembling, and she clutched the blanket tightly.

After a lot of convincing, telling her it’s just for her health, that I’d respect her. I saw her nod slowly, “Okay… but turn back, please.” I turned away, facing the wall, and heard the soft sounds of her undressing. The rustle of the wet saree falling, the quiet tick sound of her blouse, the untying sound of her petticoat.

My heart beat fast, but I kept my promise, not looking. After a minute, she whispered, “Done…” I turned back, and she was wrapped in the blanket. Her face was a shade of red, her shyness evident as she pulled the blanket up to her neck. I said, “Let me dry the clothes for you.”

She shook her head quickly, “No, no, don’t do it… I’ll do it later.” I smiled, “It’s okay, I’ll do it.” I picked them up, realising she’d removed everything—the water must have reached her panty. I sat on the chair, hanging her clothes to dry, and we started talking again.

“So, Nida,” I said, “what’s your favourite thing to cook besides fish curry?” She smiled a little, still shy, “Maybe biryani.” I laughed, “You’re good at it, I bet! I just love eating.” She giggled, “You’re funny, Sohail. What about your dreams?” I leaned in, “Maybe an IT startup someday.”

Her eyes softened, “That’s nice….” The talk felt easy, but I felt a sense of excitement. Her shyness under the blanket, knowing she was nude, made the air a little tense.

Then she noticed me, “Sohail, you’re wet too. Why don’t you change?” I laughed, “No clothes and no blanket either!” She pointed to the bathroom, “There’s a towel… go change.” I teased, “No, no, I can’t be topless in front of you!” She said, “Your wish… but you get sick.”

I smiled, “Okay, okay, you win.” She pulled the blanket over her eyes. I teased, “Don’t look, huh? She replied, “I won’t!” I went to the bathroom, removed my wet pants and underwear, and wrapped a towel around my bottom. I kept my clothes dry.

She peeked out, laughing shyly, “Do you go gymming?” I flexed a little, “Yes, sometimes!” She giggled, her face red, and I sat on the chair again. The conversation started— “Which is your favourite country?” I asked. She said, “Someday, I want to go to Bosnia.”

The air felt tense. Then she said, “I think… I’m getting a fever again.” I rushed to the bed, grabbed a cloth, dipped it in water, and sat beside her. I placed it on her forehead, her skin still warm, her collarbone peeking out from the blanket.

As we talked, I noticed her eyes glancing at my body. My chest, my arms—then quickly closing off, her face turning pink, her hands pulling the blanket tighter. I started massaging her head without asking. My fingers rubbed her scalp hard, trying to ease her fever pain.

Then I shivered a little, the cold hitting me. She felt it, “Sohail, are you cold? Is there any other blanket here?” I shook my head, “No, why do you need another blanket?” She replied softly and shyly, “Just see if you could find it.” I looked around, “They don’t give extra ones.” She nodded, “Okay…”

After a while, she said reluctantly, “It’s fine if you put your legs inside the blanket… you’re shivering. You’ll get sick.” I smiled, “No, it’s okay.” She insisted, “No, you will get sick.” I thought for a moment, then said, “Okay…” I slid my legs under the blanket.

My half-body was now covered with it, sharing the warmth with her. My legs brushed her waist and the side of her ass, the warmth of her skin surprising me. I pulled back quickly, “Sorry!” I said, my face hot. In the process, the blanket dragged a little, revealing her full shoulders.

She didn’t notice yet, lost in her shy thoughts. Seeing her like that, my dick started growing, pressing against the towel. But I turned away fast, trying to hide it, focusing on her fever. We started talking again, laughing about her honeymoon, the mood getting lighter.

“So, Nida,” I teased, “how was your honeymoon? You and your husband must’ve had fun!” She blushed, giggling, “It was… nice. We went to Goa and stayed in a beach hotel.” I grinned, “Beach hotel, huh? Did you make him kneel for you?” She laughed, “No, no! But we enjoyed it a lot.”

I teased more, “Oh, so he’s the naughty one! Did you wear a fancy western outfit for him?” Her face turned red. “Sohail, stop! Yes… he likes it.” I laughed, “I bet he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re blushing so much!” She giggled, hiding her face in the blanket, “You’re too much!”

While laughing, I felt something—my towel had untied, slipping down a bit, my bottom now bare under the blanket. I realised it, but I stayed quiet, not wanting to embarrass her or myself. We kept laughing, her shy smile lighting up the room, the blanket loose on her shoulders, my towel untied under it.

“So, did he carry you in arms on the beach?” I teased. She laughed, “No.” Her warmth under the blanket mixed with mine. My legs were close to hers. We both fell asleep at the same time, our bodies relaxing into each other. In our sleep, we hugged.

My arms wrapped around her, her body turning toward me. My hand rested on her boobs while my chest pressed against her back. Even in sleep, her boobs felt like pillows, so smooth, her bare skin against mine. The heat of her fever made it intense, yet she was so innocent in sleep.

My dick, free from the towel, touched her thighs, the closeness driving a quiet thrill through me though I was deep in sleep. The blanket slipped off completely, falling to the floor, leaving us both nude. Our bodies tangled, her ass brushing my hips, her legs against mine.

Then her phone rang—Irfan’s call. Nida stirred, half-asleep, answering without thinking, “Hello, bhai…” Her voice was sleepy, soft. Irfan asked, “Nida, are you okay? She mumbled, not fully awake, still feeling the warmth of my hug.  My hand was on her boobs, my dick against her thighs.

She paused, her eyes fluttering open, realising I was sleeping beside her, hugging her nude. Her face turned red, her breath catching. But she stayed still, my arm heavy around her. “He… he called me once to check my fever,” she lied, her voice shaky.

Then she quickly disconnected the call, the phone slipping from her hand. She lay there, thinking a lot, her mind racing—shyness, confusion, trust. She didn’t separate from me, my hand still wrapping her boobs. My body pressed close, my dick touching her thighs.

I was in a deep sleep, unaware, my breathing steady against her neck. After a while, Nida’s thoughts softened. She looked at me, her face red and shy. She whispered, “Sohail… wake up.” Her voice was gentle. Her hand brushed my chest as she reached for the blanket on the floor.

I stirred, my eyes opening, feeling her warmth under my fingers, her body still close. “Oh… Nida, sorry!” I said, pulling back, my face hot, realising we were both nude, the blanket gone, my body bare against hers. Her hands trembled as she grabbed the blanket, trying to cover herself.

As she moved, I saw her for the first time. Her nude body glowed in the dim light, a vision I couldn’t look away from. I still remember the scene. Her boobs are so perfect and so beautiful, not a single mark and perfectly placed. Her flat stomach and skin, wow.

I was mad about her. But I kept my mood in control, as she is my friend’s sister. She pulled the blanket over herself quickly. Her face redder, her eyes looking down, “Sohail… I…” she stammered, her innocence shining through. I said, “I’m sorry, Nida, I should have been awake.”

I helped her adjust the blanket. My hands brushed her arm. The touch was accidental, but warm. The air was thick with unspoken tension as we settled back, her fever still my focus. Then, suddenly, she started shivering. Her body trembled under the blanket.

Her laughter faded into soft, gasping breaths. I panicked, rubbing her hands over the blanket, feeling her cold fingers despite the warmth of her fever-warm skin. “Nida, you’re shivering!” I said, my voice worried. I moved my hands to her back, rubbing gently through the blanket, trying to warm her.

But it got worse—her teeth chattered, her breath quick and shaky. I thought for a while, my heart racing, then said, “Nida, listen… You trusted me and asked me to lie beside you. I’ve already hugged you, even if it was unintentional. But if we have to get rid of your shivering, I need to hug you.

Allow me, please.” She shook her head, her voice weak between shivers, “No… no, I’m okay.” Her hands clutched the blanket tighter, her face red with shyness. I kept insisting, “Nida, it’s for your health. Please, let me help.” After a long pause, her shivering grew, and she whispered, “Yes.”

I moved closer, gently lifting her head with my hand, my fingers brushing her soft hair. I pulled her slowly toward me, my hand holding her back, her boobs pressing against my chest, her one leg between mine, the closeness of our nude bodies under the blanket making my heart pound.

I hugged her tightly, my face so close to hers, her soft breathing warm against my skin, my chest pressed firmly against her boobs, their tender warmth moulding to me. My dick rose, poking her stomach softly, and I whispered, “Sorry, Nida…”

Thank you for reading this so far! Wait for the next part. If anyone wants to have fun, chat, or meet up to discuss anything in and around Dubai or elsewhere, I’m available anytime at [email protected].