I was in my last year of college when I met Camile. She was a couple of years older than me, and was Nigerian, in Mumbai, India, doing an internship with a software company. We had met at a party and instantly clicked, and discussed subjects like politics, philosophy, literature etc.But that was all eye wash. Both of us were together primarily because both of us stuck out. Camile is about 5'10, black (African, whatever you want to call her), with long, never-ending legs, a nice butt and slightly small breasts. Coupled with her athletic frame, curly hair and her deep dark skin that looked like dark chocolate made her sizzling. Unfortunately, most Indians are a lot shorter (the average male height around here is about 5'8) and most people don't really like darker women, least of all Black women.
As for me, I'm part Iranian, so I'm about 6'2, weighing around 100kg, and thanks to years of martial arts training, quite muscular. I had other relationships in the past, but never with anyone from a different race. Even when I had first met her, I couldn't help but wonder what she was like in bed, and I was hoping for the opportunity to sleep with her. But Camile, being a Catholic, had strict views about sex. In three dates, we had made out only twice, and then too, she had pushed my hand away, shyly. Either way, she was very hot.Not all the people around her were thrilled either, most guys got jealous, and most of my friends thought there was something wrong with me, or treated me as if I were doing her a favour- and proving to the whole world that I'm not racist. Somehow, the simple reason that a guy can date a girl for being hot escaped them.Either way, that is irrelevant to this story.
In India, we have a wet season known as the monsoons, lasting from June to September, when it pours pretty much all the time, especially in South India. However , it stays dry rest of the year, and so if it rains any other time, the city is unprepared and pretty much shuts down.
That November, there was an unseasonal cloudburst that made my dreams come true.On a Saturday afternoon, Camile and I went out to lunch, trying to have an intelligent conversation. Suddenly, it began to rain, and it became clear that this was no small unseasonal shower, but an oncoming flood. Already, the suburban railway had shut down, and the city was slowing down. We both got wet, and soon realized, there was no I way I could get home, at least for the next 12 hours or so. Thankfully, her place was nearby."You better come up, or you'll catch a cold.""Camile, are you sure you want me to come up?""Yes. Better this than leaving you out in the rain. Come on up."We went back to her place, which was about five minutes away. Outside, a storm was coming in from the sea, with lightning, thunder and torrential rain lashing the city. We made our way up to her flat, which she shared with her colleagues, who were at work that day. It was comfortably furnished, and she left me in the living room, and went looking for a towel.
I couldn't help but think of this as my opportunity. She went in to get me a towel and I stood up and took off my wet shirt, to reveal my muscular and hairy body. She came in, and looked startled at first, and tossed me a towel, and used another to start towelling her own hair. There was a deep sexual tension in the air, and she turned away from me, slowly, whilst talking."I thought it didn't rain here in November. Isn't this unseasonal?""Yes" I said."I hope it doesn't rain next week, it's my birthday."
"Yeah, let's hope so." I said, and started walking towards her."Back home in Nigeria, it rains a little bit, you know, in this season. I was hoping it'll be a bit dry, and we can like, go out…""Camile, shut up.""What?"I didn't said anything. Instead I took her in my arms and kissed her. At first, she seemed surprised, and then her resolve softened, as she put her hand behind my head. Here, I continued to kiss her as my hands moved lower over her wet body, and I reached and grabbed her arse.