Sex Education

by Hardy Boys

Copyright© 2013 by Hardy Boys

Erotica Sex Story: Taking Sex-Ed to a whole new level.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   .

"Slowly, Manish," Shirlyn murmured. "Don't be in such a rush!"

"I can't help it!"

"You must try! How else will you learn? I can't teach you if you don't try! Okay, are you ready now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now ... easy does it ... put it in slowly ... mm, yes ... ohhh yes ... that's it ... oh that feels so good, Manish! Yes!

That's wonderful! Now ... push it in deeper ... yes! Oh ma yes!

That's it! C'mon ... deeper ... shove it in, Manish ... as deep as you can ... Ohhhhhh uhhh yes! That's it! Put it all in, lover! Oh god yes! Oh Manish ... uhhhh yes!"

Above her, the strapping seventeen-year old schoolboy groaned thickly and flexed his buttocks taut. His lean hips dipped and his enormous nine-inch erection squelched into Shirlyn's convulsing slit. She gasped and arched steeply under him, clenching his powerful biceps, lifting her hips to meet his in descent. Her cunt spasmed and contracted on his throbbing penis and the boy gasped.

His face was flushed and he was panting heavily, his nostrils flared, his mouth open. The pressure in his groin was unbearable, and her cunt was unrelenting on his distended penis. His body was tense and taut, veins popping in his neck and forehead, his muscles cording powerfully. His hard, tall body glistened with a light sweat. A thin rivulet of perspiration coursed down his face, over his neck and deep chest and splashed on her breast. Shirlyn murmured in pleasure and, gripping his buttocks, keeping him pinned inside her, began moving her hips deftly in gentle undulating circular motions. The boy groaned. Her cunt churned around his cock, alternately squeezing and releasing his penis.

Shirlyn smiled gently.

"There," she said softly. "Doesn't that feel good, Manish? Do you like that?"

"Yes!" he gasped. "Oh god yes!"

"This is how you must fuck a woman, Manish ... slowly and deeply and thoroughly. Do you understand?"

"Yes ... no ... I don't know! Oh god ... c'mon!"

"No! Not yet! Not so fast!"

"Oh god oh god oh god," the boy moaned.

"Slowly now," she murmured, guiding him. "Gently ... now ... start moving ... move your cock out ... ahhhhhh ... yes ... that's it

... good ... now ... hold it ... yes ... now shove it in again ... now! Yes! OHHHHHHH that's it! Shove it all in Manish! Shove it right in! OHHHHH baby yes! Now again ... out ... mm ... ohh uhhh yes ... now ... in ... oh ma uhhhhhhh yes! Oh fuck yes! Again!

C'mon Manish ... do it ... in a rhythm ... move with me ... Out

... yes! And in ... ohhh uhhh yes ... out ... uhhh ... in ... ohh

... out ... That's it ... that's it ... yes ... keep moving ... just like that ... oh god Manish ... that feels so good!"

Shirlyn hissed in pleasure and dragged her slender fingers up his hard, V-shaped torso to his deeply cleaved chest and steepled them over his nipples, her fingernails digging into his smooth skin.

Her pointed tongue arched sexily over her deliciously curved upper lip. She moved her hips easily and rhythmically in a steady up and down motion. Her cunt was a hot vortex that engulfed the throbbing mass of his cock-flesh, squeezing and contracting greedily on its mass. Her succulent breasts jiggled with their motions, her nipples rigid and stiff. The long gold necklace danced on her smooth, creamy flesh. Manish gasped in pleasure as he fucked her, thrusting his cock in and out of her moist, tight, convulsing cunt.

"Manish," she gasped. "Slow down ... breathe out ... again ... yes

... several breaths ... in and out ... that's it ... get a grip on yourself ... focus, Manish ... c'mon ... concentrate ... yes ... now calm down ... empty your mind ... don't try and think ... don't think of me ... close your eyes ... it's you ... just you

... and your cock ... in my slit ... my slit's nice and hot and tight, isn't it? Yes ... it feels good on your cock, doesn't it?

See? See how it squeezes your prick? It's just you and your prick and my cunt now ... and all you want to do ... all you have to do is pull it out ... slowly ... yes ... that's good ... more ... take it all the way out ... that's it ... bas, that's it! Stop ... not all the way out ... just till there ... yes ... leave your cock-head in my cunt ... now stop ... don't move ... don't move at all ... mm ... wait for me to beg for it ... now ... please ... shove it in ... shove it right in Manish ... slowly ... ahhhhhhhhhh uhhh yes! Oh god that's so good ... now again ... out

... wait ... now in uhhhhhhhh Oh ma uhhhh yes! Again! Oh god yes

... now! Quickly! Ram it in hard! All the way! Just ram it in,

Manish! OHHHHHHHHHHHH uhhh yes! Oh god yes! That's it! Do it again! Ahhhhhh uhhh oh ma uhhh yes! Oh uhh oh uhh oh uhh god yes

... now slow again ... yes ... mm ... that's lovely ... slow again

... and again ... once more ... again ... now hard ... yes oh yes oh god yes that's it oh fuck yes do it uhh yes again! Oh lord yes,

Manish, yes!"

The teenager followed her guidance, feeling giddy and oddly light-headed. He could hardly believe this was happening at last, at long last, after so long, so much waiting, so much dreaming, so much longing, those lonely nights of endless masturbation, fantasizing about her, of Shirlyn, his teacher, his tuition teacher who taught him math and chemistry and physics and, and biology, most of all biology, mostly anatomy, hers and his, and theirs.

Manish spinning in a whirlpool of lust. The girl is bewitching. He cannot stop looking at her. She is so lovely, so pretty, so sexy, slender and curved. She has a lovely oval face with a pointed chin, a slim, straight nose and slightly flared nostrils, small, cutely stuck-out ears. Her face is narrow so that, from some angles, it looks like her cheeks are plump, but even that is cute, really cute. Her cheekbones are high. Her eyes are lovely, large, dark brown, full of magic. Her lips are light and full and her teeth are white and strong and even. Her skin is like gold, smooth and clear, firm as a grape, without a trace of body hair. Her hair is dark and tumbles about her shoulders or flounces in a sexy pony tail or is coiled up neatly on the back of her head. Her neck is superb, a long, slender, graceful column that holds her head. Her arms and legs are nicely turned and slim, with attractive ankles and wrists and slim fingers and toes, beautifully shaped and arched. He can't stop looking at her breasts, the way they jut out, full and ripe and high, like succulent fruit. Her belly is firm and flat. He has seen it when she wears a sari. Oh god, her breasts. Her lovely breasts. Whatever she wears, the neck is always cut low, so close, so near, he can see the beginning of her cleavage, drawing his eyes down, down where the sexy gold chain around her neck disappears, oh lucky necklace, oh precious gold.

And those glasses she wears, with the black thread, the rims a delicate burgundy gold that makes her eyes look richer and livelier and sexier. What he wants, what he wants is to pull the clothes off her, to squeeze her breasts, get her to open her legs, to shove his dick into her cunt, to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her.

"Manish! Pay attention!"

He snaps back. She is glaring at him. He frowns and shakes his head, trying to clear the muddle and confusion. She sighs in exasperation.

"Oh Manish, why do you do this? You must concentrate. You're not even trying! How can I teach you anything if you won't listen?"

He knows she is a secretary in a lawyer's office. She takes tuitions part time to supplement her income. He doesn't know that she no longer does it for the money, that she's dropped all but a handful of her tuitions and those she keeps for reasons quite unrelated to education. Manish is one of her most attractive and sexy students. She wants to fuck him, and she's enjoying the sport of seducing him, hunting him, taking her time and drawing it out, savouring the exquisite torture of denial. She knows she will have him before long, but she hasn't yet quite decided how she wants to do it.

Oh, of course if she just took off her clothes and spread her legs he'd be on her in a flash. She knows that he is obsessed with her body, but she torments him, giving him these flashing glimpses of her breasts when she bends forward, brushes her breasts against his arm, lets him look at her legs when she wears a dress, letting it ride up her knees and thighs more than she should.

He is very cute, very sexy and not terribly bright. But it's not his mind she's interested in. He has the face of a film-star and the body of a demi-god. He knows this and he takes good care of himself. He is clean-shaven with the square-jawed, rugged features of a Maratha. His nose is strong and straight, his cheeks sexily hollowed, his lips full and wide and sensual and his teeth are white and strong. His eyes are dark and deep-set under thick eyebrows. His hair is thick and dark. His body is stunning; she knows he lifts weights and works out for hours on end to keep in shape. A bullish neck spans out to broad, powerful shoulders. His torso is a breathtakingly slashed V that tapers to a narrow waist and high hips. His chest is broad and deeply cleaved and his belly is hard and flat. His arms and legs are thick and long and bunched with muscle. His torso is hairless; even his armpits are depilated

-- she has seen it under his open shirt. She finds this very sexy; she doesn't like hairy men. She has noticed the prominent bulge in his crotch and frequently fantasizes about his cock. She imagines it must be enormously long and thick.

Shirlyn and Manish at the dining table. A spread of notebooks and files and textbooks and papers, a clutter of pencils, pens, erasers. Manish's brow is furrowed and he looks grey and tired, his eyes glassy. Shirlyn has her spectacles perched on her nose, a book open upside down before her, right way up before him, a pencil in her slim fingers. She is wearing a brightly coloured synthetic skirt and blouse. It clings to her body like film. The neck of her blouse is cut in a dangerously deep U that shows a good deal of her chest, the swell of her breasts squeezed together under it. The blouse has no buttons, just knotted ends beneath her breasts. The blouse is short and tight and her breasts jut out provocatively over her bare midriff. The skirt is slung precariously far below her navel. He knows that from behind, the blouse is cut way, way down with low, scooped shoulders and shows most of her back, the honey gold skin glistening soft and smooth as a grape, and he longs to touch it, run his fingers over it. Her mouth is moving, and all he can see is the bright flash of her teeth and the darting of her tongue. His eyes keep slipping down.

The blouse is translucent and he can see her breasts, most of them, full and heavy, the gold necklace twinkling on her creamy skin, disappearing in a taper between her breasts. Beneath, her naked midriff keeps flashing at him beneath her blouse.

"Manish! Manish!" She snaps her fingers in his face. He has drifted off again.

Exasperated, she tosses down the pencil. It skitters off the page and the table, clatters to the floor. She pushes her chair back and bends to pick it up.

Manish stifles a groan. As she bends, the lapels of her blouse fall low so that he has an unimpeded view of her breasts, can see the deep cleavage and the gold necklace nestling in the vale, can gauge the size and form of her breasts. She pauses a little longer than necessary, but he doesn't notice, keeps staring. She straightens and adjusts her blouse casually. He blanks out again, the magic moment is lost.

She shuts the math textbook. "Okay, Manish. You're not taking in any of this. Let's try something else. Get the Bio book."

Dumbly, he pulls out a thick volume from the stack at his elbow.

She notices how smoothly and easily his muscles move, rippling under his skin. He is wearing jeans and an unbuttoned, open shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps. His forearms are thick and criss-crossed with sinewy and bulging veins. Under the shirt, she can see his hard, muscular torso and she licks her lips as her eyes slide surreptitiously over his frame, lingering on the small, hard, stiff nipples that are pulled wide and low on either side of his cleaved chest.

"Open it. Chapter twenty-two. Reproduction."

He flips open the book and stares at the diagrams. A cock. A cunt.

Sperm swimming towards eggs. Fuck. He looks at her.

"This ... this isn't in the prelims portion, is it?" he asks nervously.

She conceals a smile. "No. Not yet. But it's interesting. It's different from what you've been doing, it'll be a change and you'll learn something."

Manish watching in a daze as she edges closer, her knee touching his and begins to explain the different parts. The scrotum. The testes. The penis. A mass of cartilage. Erections. Thickened with blood surging through veins. Sperm comes from the testes, also known as the gonads, through the vas deferens. During reproduction, also known as copulation or intercourse, the erect penis is inserted into the vaginal aperture. Ejaculation causes a release of sperm. Millions of little squids swim through the vaginal fluid to a rendezvous with ova. One or two will make it.

The others perish. Never mind. More where that came from. Her fingers touch the back of his hand. Her blouse lapels droop. He sees her breasts again. Oh god. She isn't wearing a bra. He can see her nipples through the blouse. They're hard. Stiff little stubs. He wants to pinch them. She shuts the book, pushes her chair back and gets up.

"Okay, that's enough for today. We'll meet again tomorrow."

He gets up and sees her out. When she's gone, he goes mad. Rushes around crazily, doesn't know what to do. Masturbates and comes, masturbates again, comes again. And again.

When his elder brother returns from work, Manish is asleep. The elder boy looks in on his kid brother. Poor kid. Ever since their parents died in that car crash, he's done everything he could to get him through school. Nothing seems to work. He doesn't read, can't handle schoolwork, just works out, works out, works out.

Great body as a result. But real dumb. He picks up the phone.

"Hello, Shirlyn? It's me, Anand."

"Hi Anand. How's it going?"

"Fine. And you?"

"Very well."

"Sorry, you busy?"

"Mm. No, not really. Go on."

Shirlyn sees no reason to mention that she is busy. Busy as a beaver. Busy with a tongue in her beaver. She's in bed with,

Barku, an office-boy from the firm she works for. In India, they call them peons. They do the dirty work, sweeping, delivering stuff, carrying messages, standing in lines to pay phone bills.

The work is tough and their lives are hard -- and their bodies show it. Most of them are lean, muscular, sun-hardened men.

Shirlyn loves fucking them.

Barku is exceptionally good. He's a sexy, handsome stud with a great cock and terrific stamina. He licks slit like a god, and she loves having a tongue in her cunt. She is naked on her back in bed, her legs spread wide, fondling her swollen breasts with one hand. Barku is sprawled with his face in her crotch, prising her cunt-lips open in his strong, thick fingers, moving his head round and round, pushing and stabbing his tongue in and out of her streaming wet cunt. Her hips grind and buck gently and her body jerks as he thrusts his tongue in and out of her cunt as though she is being fucked. She grips the phone to her ear and, with her free hand, clenches the peon's hair, moving his head between her thighs to suit her pleasure.

"Tell me Anand," she murmurs, struggling to keep her voice even.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to meet you. This evening? About, um, Manish, and his school work. How it's going. That sort of thing."

Shirlyn sticks her tongue out at the phone. She knows Anand is bullshitting as usual. He wants to fuck her. But he never says so.

Always dreams up some stupid excuse. Still, he's good to fuck and she has no other plans. Barku can't stay the night anyway.

"Yes, all right," she says. "That sounds fine. What time?"

"Would you like to do dinner?" She can hear the grin and relief in his voice.

"Mm. Let's see." She nudges Barku away and rolls over onto her front, lifting her buttocks and spreading her legs. Barku chuckles softly and, kneeling behind her, presses his face to her buttocks.

Her body lurches forward as his tongue swirls over her puckered anus. Shirlyn loves being rimmed, loves being fucked in the ass.

Barku will sodomize her before they're done. With her free hand, she motions to him to finger-fuck her, jerking her wrist to and fro, her palm raised, middle finger curled forward. Barku chuckles softly and jabs a thick finger into her cunt. She stifles a moan.

Her buttocks writhe and sway erotically.

"Well?" Anand asks. "Shall we do dinner?"

"Oh, all right."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Actually, I'm not particularly hungry. Wherever you like."

"You choose. Your choice. Chinese?"

"I don't mind."

"Fine. I can get you at eight."

"That's good."

Shirlyn's hips are swaying and writhing as Barku tongue- and finger-fucks her simultaneously, alternating his tongue between her cunt and dainty anus. He loves the taste and smell of it, it turns him on. He begins masturbating. His cock is already hard from her earlier sucking of it, something she does incredibly well and loves dearly.

Frantically, she motions for him to stop and to start fucking her, making a fist and pumping it back and forth in the universal gesture. Barku laughs silently and, rising, straddles her hips in a low squat, bending his knees deeply. He pushes his cock between her buttocks to her anus. She shakes her head. Later she mouths silently, her face turned over one slender shoulder. Not now. He nods and pushes his cock-head to her cunt-lips. Shirlyn bites her lower lip and her face twists in a grimace of pleasure as the peon's huge cock-head pops into her cunt and his enormous, throbbing shaft pursues the bridgehead, surging slowly inward, making a huge wave of pleasure rock her body. On the phone, Anand is saying something.

"What? Sorry, I didn't get that."

"I asked what you think about Manish. Is he making progress?"

"Well," Shirlyn begins and then has to pause as Barku slides out and thrusts into her again.

"Shirlyn?"

"Yes?"

"You were saying?"

"Well, Manish's um progress. Not great, to be honest. It'll take time."

"He doesn't have time. His exams are almost on his head. Will he get through?"

"I don't know. Something's bothering him."

"What?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's just that, well, he doesn't seem to be able to focus or concentrate. He keeps drifting off. It's very difficult working with someone like that."

"I appreciate all you're doing for me. Truly. I mean it. I really do."

"Just doing my job, Anand."

"You're good for him."

"Thank you."

"And for me, too," he says more softly. "For me, too. I'd be lost without you. Honestly."

This irritates her. She doesn't like being crowded emotionally.

Anand wants to bind her down and she hates that. She scowls.

"Anand, I have to go."

"Why, what's up?"

"Someone's here."

"Who is it?"

"Later, Anand. See you at eight."

"No wait!"

Shirlyn is really pissed off now. She decides to give him something to think about. She drops the phone but leaves it off the hook. He hasn't disconnected. She can hear him calling to her.

She turns her face over her shoulder to the peon who is fucking her cunt slowly and deeply and unhurriedly.

"Mm ... ohhh that's good, Barku," she moans loudly, loud enough that Anand can hear through the dangling receiver. "C'mon baby ... shove it in ... right in ... ahhhhhh yes ... oh fuck yes ... that's so good ... c'mon ... do it again ... hard! OHHHHHH uh OH ma uhhh yes! Oh god Barku you're so big! That's so good ... c'mon

... fuck me, baby ... fuck me! Oh yes ... fuck me! Shove your cock right up into my cunt, lover ... ram it in! Yeh! That's it uhhhh

Ohhhh yes oh fuck yes uhhhh OHHHHH uhh yes Oh that's so good, baby yes! Do it!"

Anand has the phone clipped to his ear. His knuckles whiten. His ears burn. She's fucking someone! The bitch! All this time she's talking to him and arranging to have dinner with him and she's fucking someone! The fucking whore! He knows, of course, that she fucks around, she's never hidden the fact that she has lovers, never given him reason to believe he's the first or the only one but she's never done anything like this. Not openly, no. And then, to his surprise, his cock pops up and strains at his trousers. She sounds so damned sexy and he can just see her, whimpering and gasping and writhing with the guy, the guy he doesn't know and can't see, just like she does with him. Oh fuck, he can see her now, what she must be doing, her hot cunt on the big, long cock, her body jerking and writhing.

"C'mon ... take it! Take it, whore!" he hears the man gasp and is stunned. The voice is rough, the words vernacular, the accent low-bred. Who the shit is she fucking?

"C'mon you fucking whore! Take my cock ... yeh ... that's it ... oh uhhh yeh ... oh fuck yes! Take it! Yeh ... that's it!" the man goes.

"Oh yes ... yes, Barku, yes ... fuck me!" she gasps. "Fuck me harder uhhhhhh yes oh god yes that's it ... c'mon lover ... shove it in ahhhhhhh uhhh yes ... oh god that's it yes ... oh fuck your cock's so big ... stick it in, baby ... shove it right up ohh yeh!

God you peons are so good for me! You fuck me so well!"

A peon! She's fucking a bloody peon! Anand screams into the phone hello hello hello and all he hears is her, her, Shirlyn, and her lover, the peon, the peon laughing in delight. And then there's a soft click and the line goes dead.

That night, after a strained dinner, they go back to her little flat and Anand fucks her like a demon. She says nothing about the afternoon and he doesn't ask, just bends her body under his, forcing himself into her again and again with a savage madness.

She takes it all, everything he gives her, without protest, just gasping and moaning desperately as he pillages her flesh.

When he's done at last, the insane jealousy and crazed lust have ebbed. She snuggles up against him, fondling his cock. Her breasts are hot and fleshy against his hard chest. His cock stirs. She traces the contours of his body with her fingertip. Like his brother, Anand is muscular and handsome and his cock is big and thick, about seven inches long limp, over eight inches in full tumescence and correspondingly thick. He's good in bed, has power and stamina. Her body still tingles from his rough handling of her, which she actually rather enjoyed.

"Feeling better?" she murmurs, her tongue in his ear.

"You're a whore."

"Mm. I like being fucked."

"Even by a peon."

"It turned you on, didn't it?"

He's silent, because it's the truth. She smiles.

"You should have seen us," she said. "He fucked me so well and for so long. I really loved it."

"Shut up! Shut up!"

She slides over him, kisses him, his cock is hardening quickly and she lifts her hips and slips her cunt down on it. He gasps. She kisses him again, pushes her tongue into his mouth.

"How he fucked me," she goes on. "He's got this big cock, really big and thick, and he shoved it right into my slit ... just the way I like being fucked ... nice and hard ... ramming it in ... and then he fucked my ass, too..."

Anand's face twists in rage. He jerks her cunt down on his cock, rolls her over on her back and begins ram-fucking her furiously, pounding in and out of her flesh. She gasps and cries out, her body whipping and jerking under his, her hips crashing against his, her cunt convulsing frantically on his throbbing, pistoning penis. He fucks her and fucks her and fucks her till he's drained.

At last he lets her go and sinks down on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, his face stricken. "I shouldn't have done that, said all those things."

She kisses him tenderly. He's not a bad sort, really, and it's a difficult situation for any guy. He's taken it better than most.

Manish afloat again. It's even worse today. He just can't keep his eyes off her. She's wearing a sari this time, six yards of the traditional Indian garment that can be worn so it looks dowdy or so it looks outrageously sexy. She only knows the second, of course. She couldn't look dowdy if she tried. It clings to her curves and shows the full, heavy weight of her breasts under her tight blouse, her flat belly, her slender hips and legs. The neck of the blouse is low, low, low and he can see her cleavage winking temptingly at him, the gold chain nestling in the valley, vanishing into the squeezed fold between those luscious, ripe mounds. In profile, he can see her breasts straining at the tight blouse and wants so much, so much to run his hands along it and then to cup her breasts. There's this sexy little bindi, a vermilion dot, in the middle of her forehead, and her hair is coiled up high on top of her head and accents the lovely line of her neck and throat. He looks at her and drowns in her brown eyes, rimmed with kohl, their colour and warmth accentuated by the burgundy gold of her spectacles. She looks at him and sighs.

"Oh well, Manish. This really isn't working for you, is it?" she murmurs.

He looks down glumly. He can't seem to understand a word of what she's saying or wanting him to read, not a word, it's all just a crazed jumble of letters and drawings and it's only geography. All he wants is her, her body, her lovely, lovely body. He sees how her breast rests on the edge of the table and can't take his eyes off it. She smiles gently at him over the rim of her spectacles and points to his biology book.

"Let's try that, shall we? The chapter we were doing yesterday?"

Manish's eyes brighten. This he can look at. He gets the book and flips open to the page. She starts talking again, and now it's more of the same and also a diagram of breasts, mammaries, and nipples, and aureoles. The chapter ends. He wants to do it all over again. She looks at him, taking off her spectacles.

"You know Manish, there's such a lot about this they don't tell you in the books. Stuff you should know."

He stares at her. What's she talking about?

"I mean, there's more to reproduction than that. And there's more to that than reproduction. Much more."

What? What?

Her smile broadens. She has such a cute mouth.

"You have a paper in practicals, too, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah, yes. Chem. And Physics."

"Not bio?"

"Yeah, a bit. Cutting up frogs and such."

"Nothing else?"

"Um, no, no I don't think so."

"Not in this chapter?" She points to the book.

He looks down, looks at her, looks down, at her again, shakes his head.

"Well," she says, getting up. "They should. At least I think so."

What? He looks at her. Where's she going? It isn't time yet.

"Where's your video?" She's rummaging in her purse on a sofa.

"What?"

"Your video. Where is it?" She straightens, holding a cassette.

"I've got something you should see. It might help you understand better."

"Um, in my room. I ... I was watching a film before. Took the trolley in."

"Very well. I'm leaving now. I know it's a bit early, but I want you to spend the rest of the time watching this. It will teach you several things, which I want you to remember. We'll go over them tomorrow when I return. Okay?"

What can he say? He doesn't want her to go, but he can't tell her that. She gives him the cassette, smiles, and he sees her out.

When she's gone, he feels lonely and empty. He shuffles back to his bedroom. It has typical teenage clutter, weights, music, magazines, Samantha Fox and Madonna battling boobs and thighs on the wall, another of a couple of luscious Indian film stars in erotic poses, showing quite a lot. He doesn't know it then, of course, but these film-stars, they're graduates of the same whore-school Shirlyn's at and often come back to do time. He pushes the tape into the video machine and rewinds. His back is to her. He presses the play button.

It's a porn-film, of course, one of the Hedon & Venery's typically steamy numbers. This one's a real teaser, styled as a sex-ed cassette, with a fairly innocuous title. It begins without pretension, the credits rolling with soft, unremarkable music.

Then the screen fades out.

The fade in shows Shirlyn in a white coat at a desk in a clinic, lots of charts and medical equipment around. She smiles at the camera. She's very lovely, wearing a sari, her eyes lined with

kajal, a bindi on her forehead, a stethoscope around her neck.

She has her spectacles on and the gold chain around her neck that he finds so sexy against her flawless golden skin. Her hair is up in a bun.

 
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