I was 22, going off to college for the first time to
an historically black university in a rather diverse
city when I met Rudmila, the young south Asian cashier
of my local mall’s candy store. We would casually chat
every now and then while I made a small purchase.
Rudmila, 17, had recently moved to the US with her
parents only a few years ago. Though naturally shy, my
new friend was open with her love of her new home and
had a sweet beauty about her. She wasn’t exactly
petite, but standing at 5′, her 32″ chest lightly
draped by medium length dark hair made for a full,
I soon found myself think about her at random parts of
the day, what it would be like to kiss her thin, soft
lips, to press her young body next to mine. The next
day, I visited her again. “What would you like today?”
she asked, clumsily tossing her hand through her black
hair, slight red highlights hinting at her youth. ‘No,
actually I just came by to say ‘hello”. She lit up
with reserved joy to hear that. I was surprised. You
don’t typically see many black guys asking south Asian
girls– let alone while they’re still in high school.
But she seemed to like me and much as I liked her. Her
excitement became my excitement. I was on auto-pilot.
‘So, I know you’re Bangladeshi, but do ever watch
“There’s a movie theater by my college, we should see
She laughed, nervously “I don’t know, it sounds like a
‘Only if you want it be.’ I replied, on queue.
She stared at me briefly, not as a customer, but as a
potential suitor. Her innocence seemed to melt away in
front of me as I could feel her gently eye-fuck me
with her big, brown eyes.
She managed to meet me the next night, telling her
parents she’d be studying at a friend’s house late.
Rudmila went to a private school with a generic
uniform of white blouse and gray skirt. The movie
house is never busy on weeknights, so we ended up
being the lone couple in this Indian romantic comedy
movie. We shared popcorn which allowed me to
“accidentally” graze her hand and forearm every few
minutes. Without hesitation (and even realizing it), I
began massaging her arm, working my up towards her
shoulder, neck, then in front to her—.
It didn’t occur to me what I had done until she tugged
away from me. A cold wave of fear washed over me,
because all she had to was tell ANYONE; After all, a
22 year-old feeling up a high school student wouldn’t
go over well with many. I could tell she was staring
at me, but I was too terrified to return the stare.
When I finally decided to turn to apologize, our face
collided and she pressed her lips hard into mine. I
could feel her heart pounding through my own heaving
chest as she tried to calm herself, slipping her
tongue into my mouth.
I resumed feeling on her breasts and she quietly began
to awkwardly thrust her b-cup into my palm. Rudmila
ran her fingers down my shirt, to my pants where she
started to rub my bulging package through my jeans.
Both inexperienced, we fondled each other in this way
for another minute before she pulled away, announcing
“This is all I want to do tonight, I come from a very
traditional family. Marriage first” she smiled,
attempting to break the tension. I laughed, telling
her. I understood and resorted to watching the rest of
This became our regular schedule until one evening
after I picked her up after school for dinner. We went
to one of her favorite fast food places, and we
halfway through eating before I realized that she was
wearing her school uniform without a bra or usual
stockings. The sight had me painfully hard, but I
decided not to press the issue. We returned to the car
as the restaurant was closing and began our usual
make-out session. As we kissed, Rudmila started to
unbutton her blouse.
I didn’t need encourage to slide my hand in to start
stroking her mocha brown breasts. She usually kept a
stoic look of concentration while we were ‘together’,
but this began to buckle when leaned over and started
to suck and bite on her dark nipples. With my hands
free, I pulled her small body onto my lap. I could
instantly the heat from her dripping crotch as her
teenage dew dampened my jeans. With panicked
difficulty, I tried to unbuckle my pants. With my dick
finally free, I rubbed my throbbing manhood across her
soaked patch of hair between her legs. Her gasps
became louder as I positioned the head of my black
penis to the month of her quivering Asian pussy.
“Do it, please…” she cried.
Rudmila grimaced as I began to enter her. My
Bangladeshi girlfriend was stretched to capacity. All
I could do was gently rock from side to side, cock
buried deep inside of her. Soon, she grit down,
digging her nails into my chest as my angel climaxed
for the first time. She shook uncontrollably as the
extra juices flowed down my shaft. Finally, I was able
to move inside of her– not that I needed to.
As her orgasm died down, I splashed a load of hot
cream into her fertile teenage womb. After three or
four bursts, she collapsed on top of me. Out of
breath, she finally mustered “I guess you have to
marry me, now” she said, grinning. I still don’t know
if she was joking at the time. It didn’t matter to me
though. I was hooked, and so was she.
That’s how it started. I would leave campus a little
before her classes ended, pick her up for a movie, or
dinner– but ALWAYS dessert. Rudmila and I fucked
every day without protection. We never discussed that
we wanted children, but she would never stop a fuck
session until she was sure she had all of my cum in
her vibrant body. She wanted my black baby as badly as
I wanted to give it to her. So it was natural, and
only a matter of time before Rudmila started
oversleeping, and even sooner before she started
throwing up each morning. Little by little, her belly
began to stretch the skirt of her school uniform, as
our brown baby grew inside of her.
The morning sickness and fatigue didn’t seem to affect
her sex drive, though she began to prefer laying on
her side, bracing herself, and resting her baby bump
on my dorm room bed. She’d cum several times, me,
playing with her swollen nipples as I plaster her
insides with more sperm– as if she needed anymore.
The next day came with the shock of my life. I drove
to Rudmila’s school as class ended as I did every day,
only to find that she never came out to meet me. I
tried not to panic, and simply called her phone–
Disconnected. My best and most justifiably paranoid
guess what that her parents had discovered her
pregnancy and decided to either send her away or “take
care of it” (though I had no evidence of anything
outside of her disappearance).
At any rate, she was gone. I now had a difficult
decision ahead of me: Ignore the situation and be
thankful I haven’t been thrown in prison (yet…), or
risk prosecution in a rescue mission to save my love
and my unborn baby.
To be continued?