Chapter 1

I was born an only child. My mother is from a part of India-Pakistan called Sindh, and my father is from Punjab. In terms of gene pool, I was quite blessed. My father works for a pharmaceutical company, and as such was out of town 25 days a month (minimum), and my mother well she was all too happy playing cards with the neighborhood ladies. So my childhood was just that - mine, growing up alone.

My real sexual awakening took place when I was 15 though I was aware of sex a lot before that. We lived in New Delhi, the capital of India in a bunch of apartments grouped together, much like the condos in the U.S., and we had a 2-bedroom apartment, which we called "flats". There were 16 such "flats" in the immediate vicinity that we lived in, and there was a set of 4 such blocks that made up a small unit. To each of these units, there was a family that used to come in every day and iron there clothes, and wash their clothes. This was very common. The concept in India is quite different than in the U.S., and pretty much every family has a servant - male or female, that they employ, and that servant cooks for you, cleans for you, and pretty much, makes life very easy for you. Since my father was out of town as much as he was, and even when he was in town, he was quite busy making reports to pay any sort of attention to mom. Needless to say, she was quite sexually frustrated, and often in the afternoons when she thought I was sleeping, the father from that family would be at home, filling that desperate need that mom felt between her legs so much. It was shortly after that, that I started spying on my mom, and watching sex first hand. I saw it all, how to give a blowjob, how to get pounded in the pussy, in the ass, missionary style, doggy style, on top. And everytime I watched, I was more and more intrigued.

One day when I was 15, mom was away playing her cards game, and I knew she wouldn't be back till much MUCH later in the day so I started snooping around her bedroom. To my surprise, I saw a complete lack of underwear on my mom's part. Since mom was in many ways, my role model, that one single incident led to me never again wearing underwear till today. But back to that day, I saw she wore mostly sarees (a traditional Indian dress, with a blouse that is an extended tube top, with sleeves, a petticout, which is like a long skirt that comes to your ankles, and a long piece of cloth that wraps around the entire body) and skirts. This revelation led to me never wearing anything but skirts, to this day. As for myself, I was wearing a white shirt and a black skirt at home that day, but also wearing a bra and panties, which I promptly removed and put away in my hamper. Just then, the door bell rang and I went to the door to answer it. Looking through the keyhole, I saw it was the same man that my mother had sex with every day, and for some strange reason, I felt a tingle between my legs. Still not knowing why to this day, I pulled out my shirt and let it hang, then rolled up the end of my skirt so that it came to my mid-thigh and opened the door.

I must have looked very sexy in that outfit, because I could see the reaction on him instantly. I knew I was pretty, I was 5'4" already a 34B 20 32, and had thick black hair down to my back and had big pouty lips. Add to that I was standing in a white shirt that was semi transparent to begin with and had no bra underneath, I might as well have been topless. He came in and told me how much money I owed him. I went to the TV station as there was where we kept most of the change, and got down on my hands and knees to get the change. I took a lot more time than was required, giving Ramu a full view of my naked butt, before I got up and went towards him to give him the change. He merely gulped, and went away hiding quite unsuccessfully a hardon. I found that I was so very excited by this incident, my pussy was practically on fire. I ran to my bedroom and started fingering myself to orgasm after orgasm until I passed out.