My friend group -part 0

DISCLAIMER: This is a base story for the next part so all characters depicted here are 18+ and not less.

Charan looked around the bustling wedding venue, his eyes lighting up with mischief. The air was filled with the aroma of fresh flowers and the tantalizing scent of sizzling street food. The laughter and chatter of the villagers melded into a comforting background noise. He nudged his friend Virat, who was busy stuffing his face with a crispy samosa. Virat looked up, his cheeks bulging with the spicy snack, and grinned. They were all dressed in their best clothes, feeling a little out of place in the fancy setup. But tonight, they weren't just teenagers from the small village of Salar; they were guests at the wedding of the year.

Prakash, the meticulous one, adjusted his tie, his eyes darting around, taking in the grandeur of the decorations. The wedding of the village chief's daughter was an event that brought everyone together. Preeti, the bold and feisty one, elbowed Prakash playfully. "The fuck with your getup. Have you came to attend interview?," she joked in her thick Punjabi accent, making them all snicker.

Swaty, the most composed of the group, rolled her eyes at Preeti's brashness. "Chill yaar, it's not like we're marrying off," she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. They were all aware of the village's strict rules about marriage and pregnancy. The thought of their carefree days coming to an end was a sobering one.

The music grew louder as the baraat approached, the sound of dhol beats echoing through the night. The villagers rushed to the gates, eager to catch a glimpse of the groom. The five friends huddled closer, their whispers and giggles lost in the festive din.

Virat's father, a burly man with a warm smile, waved them over from a corner where he was seated with a group of villagers, a bottle of his finest homemade wine in hand. Preeti's father, a tall, lanky man with a thick mustache, sat beside him, his laughter booming. Both men had a slight glaze in their eyes, the telltale sign of an evening well-spent. They motioned for the group to join them, and without hesitation, they shuffled over, drawn by the allure of the adult world.

"Look who's here, the brainy bunch," Virat's father slurred, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he gestured for them to sit. He passed around bottles of beer, a rare treat for the teenagers. Preeti's father chuckled, "You kids should enjoy while you can. Life's not all books and games."

The group exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was the first time any of them had been offered alcohol by their elders, and they weren't quite sure how to react. But the atmosphere was festive, and the adults' encouragement was hard to resist. With shaky hands, they popped open the bottles and took tentative sips, the bitter taste of the beer washing over their palates. They coughed and sputtered, trying to hide their discomfort amidst the grown-ups' laughter.

Virat's father, noticing their plight, leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, it gets better with time." His words were a comfort and a warning all rolled into one. They watched as the men swigged from the wine bottles with practiced ease, their faces flushing a deeper shade of red with each gulp. Preeti's father, ever the storyteller, began to regale them with tales of their own youthful escapades, the lines of their faces softening as they remembered days gone by.

Feeling a little dizzy from the unfamiliar alcohol, Charan suggested they move to a quieter spot under the sprawling banyan tree. The cool night breeze was a welcome relief from the heat of the packed venue. The group stumbled over, the laughter and music becoming a distant throb. They sat in a circle, the shadows dancing around them as the fireflies flickered above. Swaty's face had turned a shade of green, and she looked like she might not make it to the tree in time.

"Guys i might vomit," Swaty said, holding her stomach, her face a shade paler than usual. Concerned, Prakash put his arm around her. "Ohh ok let me support," Preeti said with a smirk, "but remember, if you do, I'm not cleaning up." "I heard this is a sign of having a child, hay swaty did you let someone fuck you in unsafe days," Virat teased, his cheeks flushed from the wine. The tension in the group was palpable, the gravity of the village's rules sinking in amidst their laughter. "With you around who will dare to fuck me," Swaty retorted, trying to keep the mood light. "Yah yah don't worry no one fucks small boob girls," Charan said, poking her side, causing Swaty to yelp and smack him playfully.

"In your eyes only that Saubhagini bitch has big boobs others are small? No? You're just jealous," Preeti shot back at Virat, her voice rising above the music. The group's laughter grew louder, the alcohol loosening their inhibitions. Swaty tried to stand, but her legs felt wobbly.

"Yah yah yours are not that big either," Charan teased Preeti, his voice slightly slurred. Prakash chuckled nervously, trying to defuse the situation. "Let's not start comparing, okay?"

"Oh really? You think you can talk shit about me?" Preeti said, her eyes glinting with a mix of humor and challenge. She staggered over to Charan and playfully shoved him. "Care to see for yourself?" she asked, untying the knot of her kameez, revealing a tightly wound chunni underneath. The group watched with bated breath, the banter taking a bold turn.

"Although mine is not big as Soubhagini, but bigger then Swaty for sure," Preeti said, her voice filled with playful confidence. She began to unravel her chunni, and the group held their breaths, unsure if she was serious or just bluffing. Swaty blushed, feeling a little embarrassed at being the butt of the joke, but she couldn't help the smirk that played on her lips.

"Let me measure then. Swaty can i feel your boobs in my palm to measure with this annoying girl?" Charan said with a smirk, reaching out with his left hand towards Swaty. Swaty blushed furiously, but didn't pull away. Instead, she playfully slapped his hand away. "In your dreams, Charan," she said, trying to stand firm despite the sway of the alcohol.

Preeti took this as a challenge and leaned into Charan, her breasts brushing against his chest. She grabbed his right hand and placed it firmly on her own chest. "Here, feel these," she said with a boldness that made Swaty's heart race. Charan's hand hovered there for a moment, the warmth of Preeti's skin seeping through her clothes. He could feel the softness of her breasts, the slight weight of them in his hand. He swallowed hard, his own breathing growing ragged.

Swaty, feeling a bit left out, leaned closer to Charan and whispered, "Okay for now you can touch me too," and placed his left hand on her chest. The alcohol had made them all a bit daring, and the line between friendship and something more was getting blurrier by the second. The fabric of Swaty's salwar kameez was thin, and Charan could feel the slight curve of her breast. His heart pounded as he tried to keep his composure, his mind racing with thoughts he had never dared to entertain before.

With both his hands now occupied, Charan felt the distinct difference between the two girls. Preeti's breasts were fuller, firmer, and the heat from them seemed to radiate through his palm. Swaty's, on the other hand, were smaller, but the softness was undeniable. The sensation was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but let out a soft gasp. The group watched, their faces a mix of shock, excitement, and curiosity.

"How did it felt bro?" Virat whispered, his eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and envy.

"Preeti's are like panner," Charan murmured, his voice thick with desire, "tight and firm." He couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud, but the words slipped out as easily as the beer had gone down.

Preeti giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And what about Swaty's?" she prodded, leaning in closer so her breasts brushed against his hand again.

Swaty looked at Charan expectantly, her heart racing as she waited for his response. He took a deep breath, trying to form the words that would capture the sensation. "Swaty's are like... cottage cheese," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Soft, and... easy to squeeze."

The group erupted into laughter, breaking the tension. But as their laughter subsided, the intimate moment lingered in the air. Prakash, ever the peacemaker, decided to change the subject. "So, who's going to marry first?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Virat looked over at his friends, his cheeks still flushed from the wine. "Probably, Charan," he said with a grin, "with your charm, you'll have the village girls swooning." "Yah but i don't plan. But i think preeti would get pregnant and married like how she behaves," Charan retorted, trying to maintain his composure as he felt the heat from Preeti's hand still lingering on his.

Preeti glared at him, her eyes flashing with a hint of something more than just playful banter. "I dare you to say that again," she said, her voice low and challenging. Charan met her gaze, his own eyes darkening with a mix of lust and defiance. "No no Oh great princess i was talking about swaty," he said, trying to lighten the mood. The tension between them grew palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires.

Swaty's cheeks burned, and she took a step back, feeling a little overwhelmed. "Guys, let's not joke about such things," she said, her voice shaking slightly. Prakash nodded in agreement, his arm still around her waist. "Swaty's right. We should get back to the wedding before we get into trouble. And i think swaty will get a good husband before any of us, her face is cute"

The mention of marriage sobered them up a bit, and they reluctantly pulled away from each other, tying their chunnis and adjusting their clothes. They stumbled back towards the wedding hall, the music and laughter growing louder with each step. Inside, the dancing had begun, and the villagers were moving to the rhythm of the dholak, their bodies swaying in a hypnotic pattern.

Months later, the summer sun had ripened the sugarcane in the fields, and the group decided to take a break from their studies to roam the sweet-scented landscape. The tall, emerald stalks whispered secrets as they walked through the rows, the rustling of the leaves creating a symphony that drowned out their laughter. They had all turned sixteen, and the weight of their futures was a constant presence in their minds, but for now, they were just five friends enjoying a simple afternoon.

As they approached the far end of the field, Preeti's sharp ears picked up an unusual sound, something that didn't quite fit with the serenity of the scene. She froze, her eyes widening, and put her index finger to her lips. The others fell silent, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. She tilted her head, listening intently, and then, with the grace of a cat, she tiptoed towards the source of the noise. The four friends exchanged glances and followed her, their curiosity piqued.

The rustling grew louder as they approached, and suddenly, Preeti's eyes widened in shock. She motioned for them to stay low and peeked through the thick sugarcane. There, in the dappled sunlight, stood Mr. Kumar, the village's 52-year-old school teacher, and Aarti, an 18-year-old senior from their college. Aarti was bent over, her back arched, her college skirt hiked up around her waist, and her panties lying on the ground. Mr. Kumar was behind her, his pants around his ankles, his bare buttocks flexing with each thrust. His hand was squeezing Aarti's right breast, his thumb playing with her nipple as he pumped in and out of her. The sight was both jarring and fascinating, a stark contrast to the innocent banter they'd shared earlier.

"Wow this old man is enjoying," Virat whispered in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. Prakash's jaw dropped, and Swaty gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. They all watched, transfixed by the sight unfolding before them. Aarti's moans grew louder, echoing through the quiet field, and Mr. Kumar's grunts grew more intense.

Without a second thought, Charan's hand found its way to Preeti's chest, mimicking the action he'd just witnessed. He squeezed gently, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Preeti's eyes snapped to his, and she slapped his hand away with a laugh that was a little too high-pitched. "Charan, you pervert!" she whispered, but there was a spark in her eye that suggested she wasn't entirely displeased.

Emboldened by the alcohol and the secretive thrill of what they'd just seen, Preeti took a dramatic step out of the bushes. "Oye Old Master, what are you doing?" she called out, her voice carrying in the stillness of the sugarcane field. Mr. Kumar froze mid-thrust, his eyes darting around in panic. Aarti looked over her shoulder, her expression a mix of terror and embarrassment.

The group stifled their laughter as Mr. Kumar hastily pulled up his pants, his face a deep shade of crimson. Aarti scurried to grab her underwear, her eyes pleading with them not to say anything. Preeti stepped forward, her hands on her hips, mimicking the pose of a furious wife. "Is this how you spend your afternoon, Mr. Kumar?" she taunted, her voice carrying an aggressive tone that made Charan's heart race even more.

Mr. Kumar, flustered and sweaty, tried to compose himself. "What are you kids doing here?" he stuttered, trying to regain his authority. Preeti didn't miss a beat. "We were strolling what were you doing?" she quipped, her hand on her hip. Aarti's eyes darted around, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She pulled her skirt down and tugged at her blouse, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

"Old Master your age is gone, you should be playing with your grandkids," Prakash teased, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter as Mr. Kumar's discomfort grew palpable.

Swaty couldn't help but giggle at the sight, covering her mouth with her hand. "This is... unexpected," she whispered, her eyes glancing between her friends' amused faces and the mortified couple.

Mr. Kumar, visibly flustered, tried to gather his wits. "This isn't what it looks like," he sputtered, but his words were lost in the waves of laughter from the group. Aarti, realizing the futility of hiding, straightened up and glared at them.

"You'll keep this to yourselves, right?" she hissed, her voice a mix of anger and fear. The villagers were notorious for their gossip, and if word got out, her reputation would be in shambles. The boys nodded eagerly, the thrill of having something juicy to share with their schoolmates written all over their faces.

"But sinior if you were hot yoh could gce called us, we are batter then the old man," Virat quipped, his voice thick with sarcasm. Aarti shot him a dirty look, but the corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a reluctant amusement. Preeti stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry Aarti, we won't tell anyone," she said, her tone sweet as honey. "But remember, you owe us one."

The group exchanged knowing looks, the secret bonding them in a new, slightly twisted way. As they turned to leave, Swaty whispered, "wow what a wild day," her voice shaking with a mix of shock and excitement. They stumbled back to the village, their hearts racing with the adrenaline of their discovery. They couldn't wait to share the story with their classmates, the whispers and snickers sure to echo through the school halls.

"I am going to masterbate now after i reach home, after seeing that," Charan said with a grin, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon them as they walked back to the village. "Same me too," Prakash chimed in, his cheeks reddening at his own boldness. The group snickered, the image of Mr. Kumar and Aarti etched in their minds. "Yah, yah, keep your pants on," Preeti teased, swatting at Charan's arm. "Or go there and relief" she said with a smirk, pointing back towards the sugarcane field.

Swaty felt a strange warmth spreading through her body, "i think i might need to relief a little too," she admitted, her cheeks flushing pink. The conversation grew bolder, and the friends found themselves discussing their most intimate thoughts and desires, their words spurred on by the heady combination of the day's events and the wine.

"Then do it we will do there you stay with preeti and relief here," Charan suggested with a wink, his voice thick with innuendo. The group burst into laughter. "But i need to watch porn to relief," swaty said with a giggle, the alcohol making her bolder than usual. The idea was absurd, but the thought of it made them all laugh harder, the tension of what they'd just seen dissipating into the hot summer air.

"Then you can watch us masterbate and you will also get the feel may be when you will see our dicks," Virat said, his voice a mix of excitement and challenge. Preeti smacked him playfully. "Don't be a fool, Virat. We're not going to do that," she said, but her eyes gleamed with a hint of curiosity.

Swaty felt her cheeks burning, but she couldn't help the thrill that coursed through her. "Okay, fine. But if we're going to talk about it, let's at least find somewhere more private," she suggested, looking around at the open fields.

Preeti's gaze fell upon a solitary guard post in the distance, a reminder of the village's efforts to keep the wild boars from the crops. "There," she said, pointing, "no crops around it. It's perfect." They made their way towards it, their hearts pounding in anticipation of what was to come. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows and painting the sky with hues of pink and orange.

When they reached the guard post, the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant buzz of the village. "This will do," Preeti said, her voice firm and decisive. "We'll use the field as a shield, and no one will be the wiser." She looked at each of her friends, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable.

Without another word, the group slipped inside the small, musty space. The wooden floor creaked under their weight, and the smell of stale hay filled their nostrils. But the excitement of their earlier discovery overpowered any discomfort. Swaty's heart was racing as she watched the boys started thinking about the previous scene in the sugarcane field. Charan looked at her and winked, "You sure you don't want to join?"

"You guys are crazy," she said, her voice a mix of protest and excitement. "But I'll watch," she added with a naughty smile, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Prakash and Virat exchanged glances, their faces flushing as they nodded in agreement. The tension in the room was palpable as they all began to undo their clothes, the fabric whispering against their skin.

Prakash went first, his dick springing free, small and slightly pink. He looked at it with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "It's not that big," he mumbled, trying to hide it with his hand. Virat chuckled and pulled out his own, which was slightly larger but still modest in size. "At least I'm not the smallest," he said, giving Prakash a playful nudge.

Then it was Charan's turn. He had always been the confident one among them, and his smirk grew wider as he unzipped his pants. His cock was indeed thick and long, stretching out to a full seven inches. Swaty couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sight of their friend's proud member so starkly different from the others. "Oh my god, Charan," she giggled, trying to compose herself. "You weren't kidding!"

The boys looked at each other, a mix of envy and amazement in their eyes. "Looks like our 'prince charming' here has been blessed by the gods," Prakash teased, trying to hide his own embarrassment. Virat nodded, his own hand hovering over his crotch, looking a bit more unsure.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Charan said with a cocky grin, stroking himself slowly. The sight was mesmerizing to Swaty, who had never seen a boy's penis up close before. Her laughter subsided, replaced by a curious fascination. The soft light from the setting sun streamed through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting shadows that danced across their bodies as they grew more comfortable with their newfound freedom.

Feeling a bit left out, Swaty decided to join in on the fun. She lowered her salwar and panties, revealing her neatly trimmed bush. Her hand tentatively found her clit, but the unfamiliar sensation and the alcohol made it difficult to find the right rhythm. She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Guys, I don't know how to do it right," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

Preeti took charge, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Here, let me show you," she said, moving closer to Swaty. She took Swaty's hand in her own and guided it, showing her the right way to rub. Swaty's breath hitched as she felt the first sparks of pleasure, her eyes fluttering shut.

The boys soon finished and saw swaty. charan came closer and said, "you need a little help it will make it faster" and after she nodded, he lean down and remove some buttons From front. Prakash , Virat help me here. He took one boob in his hand and began to suckle on the other. Swaty's eyes widened in shock and pleasure, the sensation of three hands and two mouths on her most sensitive areas driving her to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel the heat building in her core, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Virat watched for a moment, his eyes glued to the sight of Charan and Prakash tending to Swaty's breasts. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, but also an overwhelming need to be part of this intimate moment. He knelt beside Charan and took Swaty's other hand, bringing it to his mouth. He sucked on her fingers, watching as she grew wetter and more desperate for release. The sight of her arousal was too much for him to bear, and he slid his hand down her body, slipping his fingers into her folds.

Swaty's eyes rolled back in pleasure as she felt and she came. The intensity of her orgasm washed over her like a wave, leaving her trembling and panting. "Wow this was amazing, Swaty if you had reached age we could have had sex," Charan said with a cheeky smile, his hand still cupping her bare breast.

Preeti, ever the leader, took charge again. "Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said, her voice still husky with excitement. "Charan, I I'm done till when you are planning to cup my breasts like this?" Swaty whispered, her cheeks still flushed with pleasure.

"Just a little longer," Charan murmured, not quite ready to let go. But he knew they had pushed the boundaries far enough for one day. With a sigh, he released Swaty's breast and sat back, watching her adjust her clothes with trembling hands.

They decided to keep strolling through the fields, the scent of sugarcane and earth mingling with the lingering aroma of their shared intimacy. The sun had dipped further, casting a warm glow over everything and casting long shadows that seemed to stretch on forever. The air was alive with the sounds of the village slowly waking up from its afternoon siesta – the distant clang of pots and pans, the low murmur of voices, the occasional bark of a stray dog.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Now cut to years after, now they are 18 and in college persuing degree. And story starts now.