THE HANDSOME YOUNG servant gasped softly in deep pleasure. He stood naked on the cool stone floor, his feet spread apart, his hands gripping the head of the nineteen-year old girl who knelt before him. Her pretty face was distended with the size of his swollen penis. He grunted and pulled her face deeper into his crotch, pushing his hips forward at the same time. She took his cock deep in her mouth, her hands clenching his buttocks, sucking hungrily. He groaned again, arching his head, his eyes fluttering. Her mouth was wonderful, warm and moist and her tongue was like an electric eel, a thing alive, magical and irresistible.
"Yes!" he groaned. "C'mon ... do it! Suck my cock, bitch! Suck it! *Choos*, *rundi*! *Jorse* *choos*! *Choos* *mere* *lavde* *ko* ... *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* uhhh *aise* ... *chul*, *rundi*... *jorse* ... harder, slut ... suck harder!"
She whimpered in excitement at his coarse, sexy words and took his cock deeper still in her mouth, sucking feverishly. The servant grinned to himself. He could hardly believe his luck. Here he was, a mere servant, fucking the daughter of the household -- and she was his whore, *his* whore, his to fuck and fuck and fuck as and when he fancied her. He was the first man to fuck her, a few months ago and, so far as he knew, still the only one. He never ceased to marvel at how much she had learned and how quickly.
Her name was Vijayalashmi also known as Vijay and she was bewitching. She was so lovely, so pretty, so sexy, slender and curved. He couldn't stop ogling her. She had a lovely oval face with a pointed chin, a slim, straight nose and slightly flared nostrils, small, cutely stuck-out ears. Her face was narrow so that, from some angles, it looked like her cheeks were plump, but even that was really cute. Her cheekbones were high. Her eyes were lovely, large, brown, full of magic. Her lips were light and full and her teeth were white and strong and even, the left incisor slightly chipped, an attractive irregularity.
Her skin was like gold, smooth and clear, firm as a grape, without a trace of the body hair he so disliked in the women he fucked. Her hair was dark and tumbled about her shoulders or flounced in a sexy pony tail or was coiled up neatly high on the back of her head. Her neck was superb, an exceptionally long, slender, graceful column under her firm, pointed chin. Her arms and legs were nicely turned and slim, with attractive ankles and wrists and slim fingers and toes, beautifully shaped and arched. Her breasts jutted out, full and ripe and high, like succulent fruit. Her belly was firm and flat.
He had been with the family for some time now. It was a large, airy three bedroom flat in one of four buildings around a large courtyard in a crowded locality in Central Chennai. The family was essentially Hindu, but they had converted to Christianity some generations ago. It remained a peculiar mix of the two religions -- very Hindu in dress and speech and even in some food habits, but they all went to church and spoke English and ate beef. It was a bit of a crowd, with ten people under one roof. He learned that Vijaya's parents died when she was little and the house was shared by Vijaya, her sister Sheila and their brother Harish, who had one bedroom, and her father's two brothers, their wives and her four male cousins. Kartik and Laxman were the sons of her elder uncle, Sravan, and his wife, Radha. Coomar, the younger uncle, and his wife Mariamma, had Jose and Pran. Her uncles were in their forties. The elder boys were about Vijaya's age, their brothers a year or two younger. Vijaya's sister and brother were much older than she, and Vijaya was brought up by her siblings.
With so many people sharing a limited space, there was constant tension and, frequently, there would be flare-ups and fights. The uncles tried to keep peace but there were times when they were forced to side with their wives, which only exacerbated matters. Being the youngest, and essentially dependent on the uncles, Vijaya and her siblings were often isolated and picked on. As he grew older, Vijaya's brother afforded some protection but, without complete financial independence, he wasn't always free to act and speak as he felt.
Vijaya grew up in this atmosphere, surrounded by elders, mostly men, with very little female influence or companionship of her own age. By the time she attained puberty, she was used to seeing the men move around the house bare-chested in their trousers or shorts or with towels or *lungi*s wrapped around their waists. She had a lively mind and a vivid imagination and these, combined with the increasingly explicit quality of public media, soon turned the menfolk in the family from playmates and relatives to objects of fantasized desire.
At eighteen, Vijaya discovered the pleasures of masturbation. Her body matured early and she found she could elicit piquant sensations by playing with her breasts and slit. She spent hours playing with herself, pinching her nipples and rubbing her slit till, finally, there came the exquisite rush of heat that left her flushed and breathless.
Vijaya was frequently alone at home. Her cousins were at work, her uncles and aunts and her brother and sister held day-long jobs. Vijaya pretty much had the run of the house for several hours each day. As her fascination with sex and lust grew, she used this time alone to indulge her fantasies. She moved around the house naked, enjoying the thrill of it, studying her body in every reflective surface. She caressed herself on the rough curtain materials or ribbed corduroy upholstery. She flipped through film magazines ogling the pictures of handsome film stars, studying the contours of their bodies or closed her eyes and imagined her cousins or uncles or the house servant, seeing the hardness of their torsos, the deep clefts in their chests, the strength in their arms and legs.
While her hankering for physical satisfaction grew sharper, Vijaya still didn't have an accurate idea of what sex involved. She stumbled on it one day when she was rummaging through Kartik's bureau. He was her eldest cousin and easily the sexiest with a hard, tall body and handsome features. Of late, she had begun to go through their clothes, especially their underwear. Kartik's jock-straps fascinated her and she tried to imagine what he looked like wearing them. She pressed them to her face, trying to get his smell from his clothes, rubbed the cloth in her naked crotch, moaning softly as she brought herself off. One day, poking around in his room, she found he had left his cupboard unlocked. She opened it and went through his things. Stuffed under a pile of clothes, she found a large brown paper packet. Curious, she pulled it out. It was unsealed, and thick and heavy. She put her hand in and what she found made her gasp.
It was a pornographic magazine and, beneath it, was a video cassette. Vijaya stared at the cover of the magazine. It showed a photograph of a beautiful white woman wearing black lacy lingerie, her crotch and breasts bare, and she had one finger between her lips and another in her slit and she was smiling wantonly at the camera. Vijaya moaned in excitement and turned the page.
It was her first exposure to the intricacies of actual copulation, and Vijaya was riveted. She knew from her biology lessons in school that men had penises and that procreation involved the insertion of a penis into the vagina -- but what it meant and looked like and what was possible beyond this clinical description she had no idea. The magazine showed her. It was a wonderfully glossy journal, published, she noticed, by a Chennai company called Oranadu, a division of something called Tallamani & Jaya Ltd. There were shots of women sucking cock, of men licking slit, of a man fucking a woman from behind, a close-up of his cock going into her cunt, another of him fucking her from top with yet another close-up, shots of one woman being fucked by two men, two women fucking one man, lesbian sex, women masturbating, an exquisitely realized photo spread across four pages of a gorgeous woman being fucked in the ass by a black stud with a stunning body and a penis of awesome dimensions.
Vijaya's imagination ran wild. She masturbated frantically looking at the pictures and, oddly, found herself wanting more even after her orgasm. She read the magazine again, this time going through the text and finding words like fuck and cunt and slit and dick and pussy and clit and prick and whore and slut and bitch. She flipped over on her back on Kartik's bed and his jock-strap flung across her breasts and, holding the magazine in one hand, fondled her slit with the other. She came again. And still she wanted more. She tried the video-cassette, using the TV and video player in Kartik's family's room.
If the magazine was an introduction, the pornographic movie was a full-fledged intensive course. The titles showed that it was made by a company called Vivid Productions, also owned by the same Chennai company whose name she had seen on the magazine.
It was a stunning movie, more mind-blowing than anything she had seen or dreamed of --and, as she was to find in later years, when she herself acted in several such movies for them, typical of the company's quality.
The sets were lush and rich, the photography imaginative and detailed, the plot fully realized and engrossing, and the sex was unbelievable.
Incessant, prolonged, innovative, never boring or repetitious, it was the most erotic thing Vijaya had ever seen. The story told of the sexual awakening of a young woman called Anjali. She was gorgeous, earthy and sensual and utterly erotic. Her first sexual encounter was with a servant and she progressed rapidly from there, taking more and more lovers.
Vijaya watched the film through, seeing Anjali masturbating, at first using everyday household objects – hard cucumbers, *bottle gourd* gourds, under-ripe bananas, hairbrushes and the handle of a clothes-paddle -- graduating to more exotic aids like dildos and ejaculator vibrators, then moving on to sex with the servants and later to boys in college.
She saw Anjali sucking cock, having her cunt licked, locked in a sixty-nine; Anjali taking a cock in her cunt, between her breasts, in her anus; Anjali fucking two and three men simultaneously and, in a glorious orgy, whoring with a whole crowd of servants. Anjali had an affair with her cousin, seducing one hot summer afternoon, and Anjali did a live sex dance on a beach. The film ended, promising a sequel, with Anjali on the brink of matrimony.
Vijaya was overwhelmed. She watched the whole film through, all two hours and more of it, masturbating repeatedly, orgasm again and again and then she rewound it and began to watch it over. The film inspired her and she ran to the kitchen for a large cucumber and masturbated with it while she watched the movie, rocking the large green rough-skinned vegetable in and out of her spasm cunt, moaning and gasping and calling obscenely as Anjali did, writhing eagerly under the hot, hard, sweating body of a servant-lover.
The experience changed Vijaya's entire attitude. She felt emboldened and saw the men in the house in quite another light. She felt herself lusting for her cousins and even her uncles, not to mention the part-time servant, Shankar, who came in to sweep and clean, and the other boys in the neighbourhood.
Vijaya's waking hours were filled with fantasies of sex. When Kartik was out, she had a duplicate key made to his cupboard and then, whenever she was alone, she raced to his cupboard and rummaged in it.
He kept getting new magazines and videos, exchanging them from some library for the old ones. Vijaya never knew when he found time to watch them, but she didn't care. She soon began to recognize the women in the movies. She saw the entire set of six or more videos of Anjali's life, and others with equally gorgeous women - Sayali, Shanti, Anuja, Vaishali, Shampa, Falguni, Seema, Maya, Radha, Neha, Sneha.
Many of the men and women featured in the magazines, too. Vijaya especially liked three or four, Jayant, Kishore, Hari and a village stud called Mani. She tried to imagine what it might be like to have them fuck her. Vijaya noticed that the women seemed to like fucking men from socially inferior classes, servants and drivers and cooks.
A few weeks later, several incidents occurred almost simultaneously that marked a turning point and determined the course of her life. Thefirst involved her cousin Kartik and the others all had to do with her sister, Sheila.
Kartik came home one afternoon when she was alone. By the sheerest luck, Vijaya had just replaced the video and magazine in his cupboard and was masturbating in the bathroom when he came in. She heard him and went still. Perhaps this would be her chance. After all, if Anjali and the other women could fuck their cousins, so could she.
Vijaya heard him whistling and humming to himself in his family's room. She stole out of the bathroom, flung on a robe and peeped through the keyhole. She saw him open his cupboard and take out the video and magazine. He dumped them on the bed, shut the cupboard, slotted the tape into the video player and set it to rewind. Then he turned to face the full length mirror. Through the keyhole, Vijaya had an unobstructed view of him and his reflection in the glass. She watched as he unbuttoned his denim shirt and drew it off, pulling it out of his jeans. Vijaya bit her lower lip. His body was gorgeous -- broad shoulders, high hips, a narrow waist, a deep chest, a flat belly, thick biceps and arms and legs. His nipples were small and taut and pulled wide and low on either side of the might W that swept his chest. His torso was hairless and she noticed that even his armpits were depilated.
Obviously, he was working out and sculpting his body.
The muscle cuts and ridges were superbly defined. He flexed his arms and shoulders, expanded his chest cracked his muscles. Vijaya's breathing grew heavier and she felt a warm gush between her thighs. In the mirror, Kartik grinned to himself and slowly, sensuously, opened the clasp of his jeans and drew down the zipper. His jeans puddled to his bare feet. Vijaya stifled a groan. His buttocks were taut and firmly rounded, naked under the jock-strap, which bulged at his crotch. Kartik hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of his jock-strap and slowly rolled it down and kicked it off.
Vijaya stuffed her fist in her mouth. It was the first penis she had seen and it was gorgeous. Still limp, it was at least seven inches long and over an inch thick, circumcised. The pornographic magazines she had read told her that circumcised men made better lovers – they lasted longer ... and here was her own cousin, duly circumcised ... if only ... she longed to touch it, feel it, take it in her fingers, lick it, suck it ... she wondered how big it would get.
She found out in minutes. Grinning in the mirror, Kartik began to masturbate, pumping his cock-shaft in his fist, slowly rocking his hips to and fro. As Vijaya watched, gaping, her heart hammering in her chest, her breasts swollen and hard, her nipples rigid, her cunt seeping love-juice, Kartik's cock swelled and lengthened and hardened and rose, grew longer and thicker. His hips jerked back and forth and he groaned thickly, his chest heaving. Vijaya watched with her hands under her robe, one hand on her breasts, the other in her crotch, her finger buried deep in her convulsing cunt.
She saw gunk ooze from the tip in his cock-head and his fingers grew slippery with his seed.
The bell rang. Vijaya jumped, startled, her pulse pounding and, frantically, whipped around and dashed back into her bedroom. She shut the door softly and bent her eye to the keyhole. Through it, across the hall, she saw Kartik step out of his room, still naked, his cock still up hard. He walked quickly across the hall to the front door and looked through the spyglass. A grin spread across his face and he opened the door, shielding his nudity behind it. Someone stepped through and he shut the door quickly and turned with his back to it.
Vijaya gasped. She knew the girl who had just entered. Her name was Shanti and she lived in an apartment across the compound. The families knew each other. She was older than Vijaya, about Kartik's age, and she was, to Vijaya's mind, absolutely gorgeous. She was dusky and slender and tall with a stunningly curved body and finely chiseled features. Her eyes were elongated and almond shaped, lined with *kohl*, her cheekbones were high, her nose was slim and straight and delicate and her lips were full and wide. She had strong, white, even teeth. Her neck was long and graceful and her hair was dark and silky, caught in a flouncing pony tail with a crinkled bright cotton band.
Her limbs were smooth and curved and her breasts were high and ripe, her waist narrow, her hips bell-shaped, her stomach flat and firm. Her hands and feet were elegantly formed. She wore a light cotton button-down blouse tucked into a knee-length pleated skirt. Her feet were in open sandals. She wore a gold necklace, matching ear-studs and a small ring on one finger.
As Vijaya watched, her eyes popping, Shanti smiled and, tilting her face to Kartik, moved closer to him, her hand sliding between his legs, her fingers curling around his throbbing erection.
"And good evening to you, my randy prince," Vijaya heard her say. And then, as she masturbated Kartik, "Oh god, Kartik ... I'm so hot ... I want your cock, baby ... c'mon ... fuck me!"
They kissed, their lust apparent and crackling through the quiet air, and Kartik pulled off her clothes feverishly. She groaned as he fondled her breasts and caressed her buttocks and crotch, squirming against him. They stood in the hall, naked, kissing and fondling each other.
"C'mon ... I've got a new tape. And another pondie. Let's go inside."
"Yes," Shanti groaned. "God yes!"
They hurried to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them, and Vijaya sped out of her hiding place and scurried across the hall and bent her head to the keyhole.
In the room, the tape was playing, one Vijaya had watched and masturbated to not long ago, the story of a lovely young girl called Madhavi. In the scene, she was having sex with a young man, handsome and heavily hung, a youth who cleaned trucks, one she had called up only to fuck her. She was on her knees before him, sucking his cock eagerly and hungrily, pumping his shaft in her fist, rocking her head to and fro before him.
And Shanti was doing the same thing to Kartik.
Vijaya watched, masturbating frantically, as her cousin fucked Shanti's mouth. He rocked her head back and forth with his hands, pumping his hips to and fro, his head flung back, his face creased with pleasure, moaning and grunting loudly.
"Yeh ... c'mon ... suck it, Shanti, bitch ... suck my dick!" Kartik grunted. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck yeh ... c'mon ... suck harder, whore ... suck it! Suck my cock! OHHHH uhhh yes! Oh fuck yes!"
Shanti evidently enjoyed sucking cock. She moaned thickly, squeezing her breasts together, then gripped his buttocks and pulled his cock deeper in her mouth. Opening her mouth, her head and eyes tilted up, watching him as he looked down at her, she ran her tongue lasciviously around his bulging cock-head, pumping his shaft in her fist. Kartik pulled her head back to his crotch and she sucked his cock deeper and harder.
He pushed her head away at last, and Shanti got to her feet and they kissed hungrily, fondling each other and then she turned around on her forearms and knees on the bed. On the flickering TV screen, Madhavi was in exactly the same position and her lover was fucking her heavily and deeply from behind. Vijaya watched as her cousin copied the man. He and Shanti were both facing the TV screen now and, kneeling behind her, he shoved his cock slowly into her cunt. Shanti moaned, her head lifting, her eyes closed, biting her lower lip. Her breasts were hot and swollen, her nipples long and stiff. Kartik began to fuck her with deep, skewering thrusts, holding her hips and rocking his own steeply up and down, to and fro, driving his inflamed erection in and out of her flesh. Shanti moaned and gasped, rocking back and forth on all fours, her breasts swollen and pendulous with her gold chain rocking. Her face was suffused with lust, her head turned up, watching the images on the screen, where Madhavi was gasping and moaning thickly as the young man ram-fucked her from behind.
"Fuck me! Fuck me, Kartik! Ohhh uhhhh Ohh uhhh oh baby yes! Fuck me!" Shanti cried. "Oh uhh ohma uhhh OHHHH uhhh OHHHH uhh oh yes oh yes oh god yes!"
"Take it ... c'mon, you fucking whore! Take it! Take my cock, you bitch! Take it! Ahhh uhhh ahhh uhhh hnggh uhh ohhhuhh oh fuck yes!"
Vijaya watched them, her hands mauling her breasts, her finger jabbing in and out of her cunt. She bit her lower lip to stifle her moan as her orgasmic spirits went sky rocketing. On the bed, Shanti shuddered and gasped sharply, stiffening, groaning, whimpering and, behind her, Kartik cried out, his head snapping back, his hands digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks and breasts. He rammed his cock into her again and again and then, with a shuddering groan, pulled out of her and, shaking his cock in his fist.
Vijaya watched, groaning softly, as the white, sticky stuff spewed from her cousin's cock-head and spattered his girlfriend's buttocks and back and dribbled in the cleft between her buttocks.
They broke apart and fell on the bed, kissing and fondling each other, and Vijaya rose and sped to her room. She flung herself on the bed and, grabbing a cucumber, turned on her back and, spreading her leg, pushed the rough-skinned vegetable into her slit and masturbated feverishly. She gasped and groaned thickly, her hips bucking and writhing, both hands gripping the cucumber, rocking it steeply in and out of her cunt, her breasts swollen between her arms. Her mind filled with images of Kartik and Shanti and her face was radiant with lust and excitement.
"Yes!" she gasped. "Oh god yes! Fuck me ... fuck me with your cock, Kartik! Fuck my cunt! Fuck me! Fuck me hard, baby! Fuck me like a whore!"
May 11, 2018 in anal