Avasa (Part I)

I have to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out.

Our bodies surge and ebb together like the tide at sea. She is above me and in between me and beside me, all at the same time. All I can hear is our quickened breathing. The fear of getting caught increases my excitement, and as I look up at her, I can tell she feels the same way.

She rolls over, and pulls me on top. I kiss her greedily. But I find quickly that she is more interested in giving me pleasure. She is getting a high just knowing that *I* am getting a high. I can feel her getting wet...she is engrossed in the taste and sight and smell of me. She runs her hands down the silkiness of my back and over my hips and down my sides, kissing my neck and hair incessantly. Her knee is between my legs, touching my sex, making me get more and more wet.

With her arm around my back, she pushes me back down. She kisses my collarbone. Her tongue draws a wet trail down my chest, between my breasts and over my soft stomach. She delights in my curves and softness and smoothness, letting her hands and tongue explore my body. Her hands start kneading my hips, as she places tender kisses over my belly. I moan as quietly as I can. "Ohhhh, Avi. Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh."

The mention of her name makes her look up at me briefly. The radiance in her eyes has become a fire. She looks at my body so long and so hard that I can feel my skin burning, feel the heat of her eyes on me. She moves upwards. She cups a breast in her hand, gently massaging it. I can't stand her gaze anymore. I have to close my eyes. She touches my nipple with her fingertip, running over it, rubbing it, teasing it. I quiver with delight beneath her. She brings her lips down to my breasts, kissing each in turn, sucking at each nipple, using her tongue to outline slow, sensuous circles around them.

The pain is exquisite.

My body rises, my fingers raking down her back, feeling the intensity and the passion and the anticipation of the explosion that is bound to happen for the both of us. She rises higher above me, offering me her breasts. I stroke them and hold them in my hands, before finally taking them in my mouth one by one, letting my hands roam down between her legs until I can feel her wonderful wetness, and the smoothness of her sex, my hand covered with her juices. She moans in pleasure. I bring it up to my mouth and lick off each drop.

Our bodies are writhing together in ecstasy, sweaty, salty. I want to feel her inside me. She knows it. "I want to take you," she whispers in a raspy voice. "I want to *know* you're mine."

She bites my left nipple, feeling its hardness, and quickly kisses me violently to keep me from crying out in pain. Her hand wanders down my body, over my belly and between my legs. The heat is incredible. She is sucking my lower lip, and her hand is exploring my pussy. She moves her finger through the creases of my soft labia. My clitoris is completely erect, but she is deliberately making me wait to tantalise me. Her fingers brush against it, once, twice, thrice. I push up my body against her so that our vulvas are pressed up against each other. I grab her arms to tell her I want her this instant.

She circles my clitoris with her fingers, rubbing it harder and harder. She squeezes it, and it is all I can do to keep myself from screaming. She pulls my clitoris gently, and releases it, and repeats this until she is sure I can take no more, and our bodies shake and throb and pound against each other as our orgasms hit us, perfectly synchronized. "Ohhhhhh, God...ohhhhh..." I just can't help groaning in pleasure.

She decides that she wants to give me more. "Oh, no, Avi, seriously, leave me alone," I whisper. "Don't touch me. Leave me alone."

But she is not listening. Spreading my legs apart, she rests her lips on the top of my mound, and moves her tongue down to my labia, manoeuvring through the folds until she finds my clitoris again. Her arms are wrapped around my thighs, restraining me from moving. She licks the lips surrounding it, and then lets her tongue roam over my clitoris, nipping it slightly.

"Uhhhhmmm, uhmmmm, ohhhhh God, have mercy..." I wail, as wave after wave of pleasure-pain overwhelms my body.

She penetrates me with her tongue, pumping hard, diving in and taking it out rapidly, taking in the scent and taste of a girl she knows and wants. Once again, we are both on the verge of climaxing. It hits us like an avalanche, our bodies wracked with desire and pleasure, and we both moan silently. I arch my back upwards, and she finally lets go of my legs, giving me room to thrust myself against her as she moves her body upwards and lays down on top of me, overcome by her own orgasm.

When the pleasure has abated, she cuddles against me, front to front, and wraps her arms around me. We kiss briefly. There is nothing to say. The moment is perfect. The wind has died down. For a while, there is only silence as we look affectionately at each other.

Then I can resist no longer. "Never did this before? Are you sure?"

She strokes my hair and laughs. "Well...I guess I've done my homework."

******

We meet every day now. Sometimes I take her to eat good ol' desi food and tell her what she's been missing. Or we go to her house and jam in her basement. We sound great together. She's given me more confidence about my voice. My voice is soft when I sing, but it can switch to this piercing, angry yowl whenever I want. Avi jokingly calls me a "Jekyll and Hyde" vocalist.

She made me quit smoking.

And my God, when do we not do it! I spent an entire weekend at her house when Arjun was gone on a conference, and I honestly think we had more sex than food. The sex is not exactly what I'd expected, but interesting nonetheless. She claims she gets off just knowing that she's getting me off. I can just lay back with my arms behind my head, and she still orgasms. I tell her I think she's turning me into a regular pillow princess. She tells me she wouldn't want anything less.

I've also realized that self-defence lessons with Avi are pretty pointless. Even though I keep protesting, "Avi, now let's be serious about this", she can't help it. When she knocks me down while demonstrating, five seconds later I find I'm naked and realize that she's taken off my clothes. And before I know it, we're making wild love again. And again.

She's insatiable...fortunately, so am I.

Arjun and I have become good friends...he's like the goofy older brother I never had, always teasing the two of us. "Avi, what, *more* flannel? And Nadya, what, *another* women's studies book?" Then, squinting, deadpan, "Are the two of you dykes?"

brother and sister have an equally un-p.c. sense of humour, I've found.

I've introduced Avi to my friends – but only as a "jamming buddy," of course. Mostly everyone's been acting like she's some kind of mutant because she dresses in a somewhat masculine way. I despise everyone for being so narrow-minded. Sometimes, I can feel Avi bristle next to me when Alka or someone is giving her stares. I get angrier than she does.

That was expected, though. What really disappointed me was that Avi and Saima were quite cool and distant with each other. Avi tried in the beginning, but Saima made her feel unwanted. To Saima, Avi's the reason why my life is upside down. I just wish they could try to get along.

Fortunately for me, though, Mohan is always there to save the day. He and Avi have practically become best buddies. We even let him join us in Avi's basement so that he can mix music for us when we practice.

"You guys sound quite good," he says. We can do covers of plenty of bands, including most of the riot grrrl bands, plus others like Black Flag, Sonic Youth, Agnostic Front, Bad Religion, and Motley Crue.

"I think we should start a girl band," laughs Avi.

"Hey, let's," I say, suddenly serious. "A band with a political agenda."

"Why not?" says Mohan. "But you'll need a drummer and a bass player."

"We can scour colleges in the city," I say, thinking about this. "We can look for a girl drummer and bass player. There's gotta be someone...it's a big city."

Avi's the only one who looks a little less than excited. "I'm not so sure that the *agenda* will sit down too well with your intended audience," she says.

"Who's being a slave to society now, Avi?" I scoff. "Come on...our intended audience will just be the college crowd...that sounds doable...I don't see us doing more than small, college concerts...what do you say?"

"Well," she says, considering. "All right. Let's do it."

I'm all excited. I jump up and plant a big kiss on her mouth.

"Oh, now, I don't want to see that!" says Mohan, jokingly, although he's watching with eyes peeled.

"Watch it, we're getting a man aroused here," says Avi, pulling away from my hold.

"Don't cut out the live action!" complains Mohan, and I promptly whack him on the head. "Ouch! Okay, okay, I'll be good."

The next day, we're out combing all the colleges in Mumbai, passing the word around that we need a girl drummer and bass player. One week later, we get two phone calls, one from Nandini, a drummer, and one from Deborah, a bass player. When we meet them and hear them play, we know we want them.

Nandini's funny and energetic, perfect for a drummer. And she has her own drum set, which she brought with her to the audition. Debbie's quiet and charming, and her melodies are enthralling. But we still had to explain a few things to them.

"You see," says Avi. "We want a political agenda. We're humanist, feminist, we want rights for minorities, and we want rights for gay people." She emphasizes the last bit.

"We're lesbians," I blurt out, indicating Avi and myself.

"Do you have a problem with that?" asks Avi, probably ready to sock them if they said 'yes'. She gets her guard up instantly in situations like this, and she would shoot every homophobe if she got the chance.

Both Nandini and Debbie start smiling.

"I'm Christian," says Debbie. "I know how minorities are treated in India."

"Yeah, you don't have to be so defensive," laughs Nandini. "I'm down with it...but it's a little risky."

"Well, we can't exactly shout it out," I admit. "But we want the gay rights stuff to be in the music. We don't intend to flaunt around our own sexualities or personal lives, though."

"Are you guys together?" asks Nandini. She's obviously outspoken.

"That's none of your--" begins Avi, still aggressive.

"Yeah, we are," I cut her. What's the point in keeping secrets? They're going to figure it out eventually.

"Cool, maybe you can give my boyfriend Samir a few tips," jokes Nandini. "I mean, he knows where to go, he knows how to make it nice...but the instant I tell him to go south side, he's like a deer frozen in headlights."

Avi relaxes and starts smiling. It's obvious Nandini and Debbie are cool and have a rebellious streak.

"One last thing," I say. "We need a name for the band."

"Two Dykes and a Couple of Liberal Straight Girls," gibes Nandini.

"A little more agenda-specific, please?" I point out.

"Fuck the Status Quo," says Avi.

"*Too* agenda-specific," I say.

"How about Desi Insurrection?" offers Debbie. "You know, it has an Indian touch, but it's also saying 'Revolution!'"

"That's great!" I say. Nandini and Avi nod their heads in approval.

I'm totally psyched. How can it be? But it is...we've found the perfect bandmates.