Chapter 4

By the time they returned to Bombay, Suresh was as completely addicted to sex as she. He allowed her to continue working at

Hedon & Venery. She wanted to transfer her money to a joint account and he agreed, startled by the amount she had. She was considerably wealthier than he. He started using the Club Gere, often watching her at work with another member while he enjoyed some of the most mind-blowing fucks imaginable.

At work, Suresh felt calmer and more confident. He drew up ambitious plans for expansion and growth and initiated negotiations with several new companies. The money poured in.

Suresh found that he was suddenly required to do a lot of business entertaining at home and that much of the success of his negotiations depended on these parties. Sayali kept house impeccably; she refurbished it in the finest taste and she was a superlative cook. Suresh still sensed something amiss. Finally, he confronted a recent guest. They were in his newly acquired, opulently furnished town office.

"Did you enjoy yourself last evening?" Suresh asked politely as they settled down.

"Yes, thank you. It was very pleasant."

The reply was surprisingly casual, almost indifferent. Suresh looked at his visitor sharply.

"Was something wrong?"

"No. Not wrong. Everything was perfect."

"Something missing then? Something lacking?"

The man looked at him steadily. "Perhaps. It doesn't matter. Shall we get on with this?"

Suresh put his hand on the folder before the visitor. "No. Please, wait. It does matter. If something was wrong, please tell me. I'd like to put it right."

"Please. Forget it. It's nothing."

"It matter to me. I must insist."

"Very well, since you insist." The man took off his glasses. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was a pleasant evening, but that's all it was. Nothing more. The decor is very good, the food was superb, the company was interesting."

"And yet?"

"And yet there was no -- how shall I say it -- excitement."

"Excitement? What do you mean? What happened?"

The man took a deep breath. "That's just the point. Nothing happened."

"What should have happened?"

The man shrugged. "I don't know. Something. Anything. Anything that would make the evening memorable. Something different, even bizarre."

"I don't follow."

"Look, Suresh. I go to parties like this every night. One is much like the other. You meet people, you chat, you drink, you eat, you go home. That's it. There's little to tell one from the next. The decor varies, the food's sometimes different, sometimes the company is interesting. If you really want to make an impact, you've got to throw parties that people remember and talk about.

Do something that'll make them want to come back. Then they think of you when it comes to business. Because you were able to give them pleasure."

Suresh looked at him quietly. "I see," he said softly. "I see."

"Anyway, forget it. Shall we proceed?"

"No," Suresh said, standing up. "I don't think we should."

"I'm sorry, I've offended you."

Suresh laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not at all, my friend, believe me, not in the least. It is I who have been remiss as a host. You're right, of course, and I must make amends. I'm not suggesting we abandon these talks. Let's just say they're deferred. Till the day after tomorrow. And tomorrow night, you dine with us again. I promise to have an exciting party. Then, the day after, if you tell me it was an interesting party, an exciting one, the deal is concluded. On my terms. If not, on yours. No negotiation. Is that fair?"

"It's a deal."

"Good. Thank you. And I'll see you at home tomorrow night."

"I'll be there. Thank you."

That night, after Sayali and he had finished with their hired partners, an exceptionally talented pair, Suresh told Sayali about his conversation that morning and asked for her advice. She considered it and he went down to lick her slit. She murmured in pleasure. Later, as she swung a leg across his hips and impaled her ever-hungry cunt on his ever-ready cock, she suggested that they put on a show. A sex show. Hire a couple, or a trio or quartet, and have them fuck for the guests. And then let the guests help themselves.

Suresh was startled by the idea and expressed reservations. It might upset some, he said. Not everyone thought like this. Her answer was elegant in its simplicity. If they don't, she said, you don't want to do business with them. They're not your kind. You only do business with those who think like you, right, otherwise how do minds meet? If minds meet on questions of the flesh, is there any other area where they won't? Suresh conceded the point, but wondered whether a mere show would suffice in such a case. It had a contrived, deliberate quality to it, it was too conspicuous and obvious. Something, something not quite so blatant, something even more unexpected.

Sayali smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, I could be the girl being fucked, if that's what you're suggesting."

"You!"

"Why not? I do it all the time. I'll just be doing it here, that's all. We'll hire a stud, or get one of the servants, and have them fuck me out in the hall with everyone watching. It's bound to be a turn-on. I mean, how many men throw parties where they display their wives being fucked in public? And you'd be surprised by the number of men who like to see married women being fucked or like fucking them."

"Yes, I see that. And then what, the guests would fuck you, too?"

"Not necessarily. We could decided that from party to party.

Depends on the guests."

"And you don't mind doing this?"

"Mind? I'd love to do it!"

Two days later, Suresh concluded the deal, on his terms. The man had to confess that he was not only surprised and excited, but completely overwhelmed by the party. Sayali, demure and sedate, dressed like the quintessential housewife in a sari with a long, prominently displayed mangalsutra, had been fucked before dinner on the low coffee-table in the center of the living area by a handsome gigolo. The five men were speechless. When Sayali offered herself to them, none of them refused and each fucked her greedily. Suresh landed five contracts the next day. This was the fattest.

It became a routine, with minor variations. Sometimes Sayali would have a hired gigolo, sometimes two, once or twice three. When there were women, she did a lesbian show, en passant, before the men came in and took her. For select guests, she then offered her body to the men. None refused. Suresh's business grew beyond his wildest dreams.

Soon, their parties were renowned in the more discrete sections of

Bombay's business community. The food was always good and the sex was outstanding. The bashes got wilder. There were frequent orgies with several of Hedon & Venery's finest girls and studs being hired to service their guests. Sayali continued to be the star of the evening. Few could resist the unrivalled public sexual performances and the frequent opportunity to enjoy their hostess' body. The evening always commenced with a performance by Sayali.

This evening was no different. The guests were first-timers, who had only heard incredibly wild rumours. Not one invitation was declined. There were five men, and Suresh wanted much from each.

He would have it the next morning, and not one would refuse. He introduced Sayali with a startling announcement.

"Gentlemen, meet my wife, Sayali." He smiled at the guests.

They all rose and nodded politely, their eyes glittering with naked, open lust. She looked lovely. She was dressed in a fine, traditional sari, her hair in an elegant bun high on the back of her head, accentuating the elegant line of her long neck. A long

mangalsutra hung around her neck. She wore a small gold nose-stud, gold ear-rings, silver anklets and toe-rings, gold bangles. Her blouse had a deep, plunging neck with a wide scoop that revealed a tantalising cleavage. Her blouse was cut short and high so that its lower hem ran hard under her breasts, which jutted out over it like ripe, succulent fruit, and exposed a large expanse of her midriff. Her sari was worn especially erotically, high on the hips and very low in front and behind so that it was just above her pubis and the cleft between her buttocks. Around her middle, she wore a thick gold girdle. This was unlike most girdles: in front, a thick strand descended from the girdle down her belly and disappeared under sari directly into her crotch.

From behind, it rose between her buttocks and rejoined the girdle in the middle of her back. It was an extraordinarily erotic piece of jewelry. She was irresistible.

She smiled at her guests, her dark, elongated kajal-rimmed eyes flashing with excitement. Sayali loved being fucked in public. It had a special thrill all its own. They stood on the slightly raised dining room area, above the sunken living area. She left

Suresh standing there and walked slowly and elegantly down the two shallow steps into the living pit, swinging her hips provocatively.

"I must tell you, friends, she is a remarkable lady. This house has been designed by her. She is an excellent cook. She is the perfect hostess and mistress. And yes, in bed, she's a complete whore."

There was little gasp and a sudden intake of breath. Suresh smiled.

"I know you have heard a lot about her." He paused for dramatic effect. "And all that you have heard is true. As you'll see in a moment. Friends, enjoy. This is your evening. This house is yours.

My wife is yours to enjoy."

The men were silent, expectant, tense, excited. Sayali smiled slyly, enticingly, and went to the first. As the others watched, she tilted her head and kissed him slowly, deeply, her hand sliding into his crotch, squeezing his cock, unzipping his fly, drawing out his penis. One by one, she went to the others. When they were all unzipped and free, she stepped back and smiled.

"I love cocks," she murmured. "I love being fucked. I love being watched when I'm being fucked. Tonight, we have a special treat for you."

She moved into the centre of the living area. "There will be a show," she said. "After the show, you can each have me as you like. In the meantime, please make yourselves comfortable. And please -- I would like you to masturbate. I like to be surrounded by hot, hard, throbbing cocks." She turned to Suresh. "Shall we start?"

He grinned, nodded and walked down into the living area and adjusted the lights for better effect. He pressed a button and soft music with an insistent, throbbing beat filtered through very powerful, extremely high-fidelity hidden speakers. He thumbed a call button. A bell chimed distantly. From the dimly lit interior of the house, a shadowy figure emerged, slowly coming into view as he approached.

The guests gasped. He was a tall, hugely built, handsome black man. And he was naked. He was like a Nubian slave or an Assyrian bas-relief. His face was lean and taut with sharp, aquiline features -- a strong, straight nose, a wide, surprisingly slim-lipped mouth, large dark eyes, thick, short curly hair. His shoulders were broad and strong, padded with muscle. His neck was thick and bullish. His chest was heavily cleaved and swept in a wide W from armpit to armpit. His dark nipples were small and taut and pulled wide and low. The belly was rock-hard, padded with hard rectangles of muscle. His biceps and thighs bulged with strength and his forearms were thick and heavy, corded with muscle. His torso was a savagely slashed V from shoulder to narrow waist and high hips. His buttocks were taut and small. His back curved inward to the spine because of the muscle on either side and then swept in and down to the swell of his buttocks. His torso was entirely hairless; even the armpits were shorn. His dark, ebony skin glistened and gleamed, freshly oiled. He strolled up with the slow, feline walk that muscular people have and paused at the head of the steps, looking impassively at the guests.

He wore a black leather codpiece. A black leather strap girdled his hips and, attached to it, was a long, thick black leather sheath that covered the immensity of his penis and balls. His cock was huge. Limp, it hung at least eight inches long and was correspondingly thick. Sayali smiled at him.

"Gentlemen, meet my lover for the evening. Joe is Nigerian. He is a student at our university and works as a gigolo to pay his tuition. As he is paid to fuck me, he will take requests. If you would like him to do something in particular to me, please ask. He will try and oblige. Now, Jim, I think we're set. Could you arrange things for me please?"

Silently, the man nodded and retreated into the shadows. He emerged a minute later, hoisting a huge wooden device under his arm. He carried it lightly, effortlessly and his muscles rippled smoothly as he bore it down to the well. Making place in the center of the room, he set it up quickly and silently. It was a folding divan, a long, wide, low wooden bench. He brought a thick mattress and unfolded it on the bench and then covered it with a colourful spread in a traditional tribal print. Two fat bolsters at either end completed it. He stepped back. Sayali nodded in satisfaction. He went back up the stairs and moved to a corner. He stood in silence, his arms crossed, his legs spread. His cock dangled hugely, and his massive pectorals bunched between his equally awesome biceps.

Sayali smiled and turned to her audience. Slowly, she dropped the

pallu of her sari and began to unravel her garment. There was complete, awed silence. She unwrapped it till it was held only by the last pleat. They did not know that she was naked beneath; one final tug and her body would be revealed.

Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. Her breasts were large and full and the men stared, transfixed at her deep cleavage. They could see the hard points of her long nipples. With tantalizingly slow movements, she caressed her breasts through the blouse, lifting them in her hands, squeezing them, crushing them together. Then her blouse was undone and she opened it fully and tugged at the final pleat of her sari. Her clothes rustled to the floor and she was naked. There was a sharp intake of her breath. She smiled, lovely in her nakedness. The gold girdle was eroticism itself; it dipped into the crack of her cunt-lips and vanished between her thighs and ran between her buttocks. Naked, she caressed herself, sensuously, stroking her belly, her thighs, her breasts, cupping her crotch.

"I love being fucked," she murmured, her voice husky and soft.

"There's nothing better than having a big cock in my cunt ... the ultimate pleasure..."

Kneeling on the divan, she lifted her breasts, her legs spread and, looking at her guests, ran her tongue-tip slowly over her upper lip in an utterly lascivious gesture. Her nipples stiffened and her nostrils flared with excitement.

"And then, when I don't have a lover, I have to satisfy myself

..." she murmured. Slowly, she eased herself onto her back and began to lift her knees, spreading her legs. "So I masturbate ... as a young girl, I used anything I could ... a banana ... a cucumber ... anything ... now my toys are more satisfying."

As if on cue, the black man moved, like a statue coming to life.

He walked down to the divan and handed her something. Then he stepped back and stood in the living area, taking up his position as before, an erotic bas-relief. Sayali brandished two dildoes.

Each was eight inches long, nearly two inches thick and shaped very like a real penis. One had a surface that was ribbed and ridged. Her knees rose and her legs spread and now her cunt was open to her guests' view. They could see the soft flesh of her cunt, the gold strand glittering in her crack. Some of them began masturbating in excitement. On the divan, Sayali groaned and licked and kissed one dildo, then the other. She took one, abandoned the other and slowly moved it between her legs, holding it with both hands. The men watched, transfixed, as she squeezed it slowly into her cunt, past the gold strand. She gasped and her back arched. Deeper and deeper she pushed it, her arms stretched, her breasts squeezed between them. Nothing was put on, there was no pretense. Her nipples were rigid and her was suffused with excitement.

"Ohhh yes!" she moaned. "Ohhh yes!"

She began masturbating slowly, rocking the dildo in and out of her cunt with one hand, her hips bucking and writhing and gyrating erotically, while she played with her breasts with the other. Her face turned from side to side, radiant with excitement, and she kept up a constant litany of sexual prattle. The men watched her masturbate. Faster and faster she went, gasping and groaning, her hips heaving and writhing. Suddenly, she turned over onto her front and continued, rocking back and forth on all fours, one hand pumping between her thighs. The gold strand was clearly visible in her crack and between her buttocks. Now she grabbed the other dildo and, as her guests gaped and gasped, slowly pushed it into her anus. Her body fell forward, writhing and jerking and both hands were stretched, one under her, one behind her as she moved the two dildoes simultaneously back and forth. With a shuddering gasp, she collapsed on her front, and slid the dildoes out of her flesh.

"It ... it is never the same... ," she moaned. "It is never as good as the real thing ... as a real, hard, hot cock, hungry for my cunt."

She rose to her knees, beautiful, slender, sensuous, undeniable and faced the black man. She lifted her breasts in her hands in wanton offering.

"Joe," she murmured. "Fuck me."

Smiling slightly, the gigolo stepped forward to the divan. She rose on her knees and tilted her face to his. They kissed, slowly, deeply, sexily, in full view of the guests. His big hands slid up her curved body and cupped her breasts. She caressed his magnificent torso and back, tracing the cuts and contours of his musculature with elegant fingertips. Her fingers trickled down his belly. Her fingers twined in his leather belt and quickly darted round to his back, flicked open the clasp. The girdle came loose.

Gently, she pulled off the codpiece. The audience gasped. His penis was enormous, dark, circumcised, the shaft smoothly shorn to the base, the balls depilated. Sayali caressed the enormous penis and balls gently, deftly. He caressed and squeezed her breasts.

Groaning, she bent her head and sucked his nipples gently, teething and tonguing them. The gigolo smiled slightly. Sayali slipped off the divan and her tongue trailed a line down his belly, swirling through his navel and she nuzzled his crotch.

"God, I want this cock," she murmured. "I want it!"

Jerking it in her fist, she slipped her lips around the cock-head.

Her long tongue swirled over the bulbous head. The man grunted and his penis stirred and began to swell. Sayali groaned and took more of it in her mouth, which distended with its size. The man fucked her face slowly, his hips rocking gently, one hand on her head, moving it slowly back and forth between his thighs. His penis grew harder and thicker and longer till, finally, it was over nine inches long and two inches thick. It was a monstrous appendage, more apposite to a stallion than a man. Sayali loved it. She moaned and whimpered, caressing her breasts and cunt as she sucked it eagerly. Rising slightly, she squeezed her breasts in a sheath around it and masturbated him, her head bent to lick and suck the cock-head as it popped out of the valley between her breasts. Her long mangalsutra rippled over his cock-shaft.

"Come on, slut! Suck it!" he commanded in a low, rich baritone.

Groaning, she resumed sucking the cock. Now the man fucked her face for his own pleasure, rocking her head back and forth with both hands. She groaned and gasped deep in her cock-filled throat, one hand still jerking the shaft. Her face bloated with its size.

Pre-cum gunk spurted from the slit in its head and, instantly, she opened her mouth wide and dropped her face low, jerking his cock so that everyone could see it shoot into her mouth.

"Come in my mouth," she moaned. "I want to drink your jizz."

The gigolo nodded and pulled her face back to his crotch. She sucked his penis hungrily and eagerly now caressing his balls and anus with her mangalsutra. The man gasped as she pressed the necklace to his asshole and stroked his shaft with it. His cock glistened and gleamed between her lips.

"Yeh! Take it! Take it whore! Take it!" he gasped.

For several minutes, the Nigerian gigolo fucked Sayali's face. His buttocks writhed and pumped rapidly back and forth and his cock glistened as it slid in and out of her mouth. She licked and sucked it cunningly. Suddenly, he groaned. Sayali opened her mouth wide and jerked his cock rapidly. Thick streams of creamy jizz shot from his cock-head. The guests could see it spurting into her mouth, could see her swallowing it. It spattered her face and neck. She shook it over her breasts and cleavage, squeezed her breasts over it. It sputtered and more and more jizz splashed on her body.

Grunting, he pulled her head back to his crotch. Slowly, moaning in pleasure, caressing her gunk-covered breasts, she sucked his cock again for a few minutes. The Nigerian pushed her head away.

His cock was still rock-hard, his erection still immense. Sayali stroked his cock and smiled as she rose. Sitting on the edge of the divan, she looked at her guests, one hand on the gigolo's cock, masturbating him.

"This why Joe is one of the city's most sought-after gigolos," she murmured. "He can come repeatedly without tiring." She smiled.

"Now ... heaven..."

Gently, the gigolo pushed her onto her back on the divan. He pulled her legs open and slid her body down so that her hips were at the edge. Sayali wound her legs about his hips. He bent over her and kissed her heavily and deeply. She pressed against him, caressing his broad, smooth back and buttocks. When he rose, there was jizz on his chest and belly. She licked it lasciviously, swallowing the seed. He bent his head to her breasts and began to suck them slowly, drawing the luscious mounds into his mouth, flipping at her stiff nipples with his tongue, nibbling on them.

Squeezing her breasts together, he sucked on them simultaneously.

Sayali gasped and writhed under him. His fingers moved into her crotch and pushed her cunt-lips open. Her hips arched and he slid a finger into her slit. She groaned and her hips pumped as he masturbated her, sucking her breasts sharply.

"Oh fuck yes! Ohhhh yes Joe yes!" she gasped.

The black man smiled and moved his head lower, licking and kissing her cum-flecked body. His tongue rippled through her navel and she whimpered and her legs jerked wide. He went lower still till his face was between her thighs. Sayali groaned eagerly and lifted her hips high, her finger clawing her cunt-lips open.

"C'mon Joe, come on! Lick my slit!" she gasped.

The gigolo flicked her fingers away and prised her cunt-lips wide with strong, thick fingers. He slid his tongue out; it was exceptionally long and supple, a bright pink. It jabbed into her slit, past the gold strand. Sayali gasped and arched hard, her mouth jerking open, her head arching back. Her hands flew to her breasts and she crushed them eagerly. The man's tongue rippled up and down her wet crack. His tongue swirled and rolled, twisted this way and that, flicked at her gorged clitoris. She gasped and cried out, writhing and thrashing erotically on the divan, her hips bucking and jerking. His tongue narrowed to a sharp spade point and he pressed it deep into her slit. Sayali's hips bucked savagely.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck yes!" she cried.

Her head jerked to one side, her mouth wide open, her eyes closed, her nostrils flared. Her breathing was ragged and heavy. She clenched his head, pinning it in her crotch. The man slid two fingers into her slit and started tongue- and finger-fucking her simultaneously.

Sayali went wild. Her body thrashed and heaved on the bed, her head jerking from side to side, her back arching and falling, her breasts bouncing as she rocked and jerked up and down as though she was being fucked.

"Oh god yes do it do it ... ohhh god yes ... lick my cunt, baby!

Ohhh yes!"

The man's tongue was exceptionally adroit. He maneuvered it in her cunt-flesh deftly, flicking at her clitoris, rippling up and down her slit, licking her cunt-lips, jabbing in and out. His tongue took different shapes, worked at different lengths. His head rolled and moved up and down between her thighs as his fingers pumped and wriggled in her cunt. Sayali clenched his head and moved it round and round in her crotch, hissing in pleasure as the waves of pleasure steadied to a rhythm. She caressed her swollen breasts excitedly. The watching men had an unobstructed view of her distended cunt, the glittering gold chain in her sodden crack, his tongue pressing it against her clitoris.

"Mmm ... yeh ... oh that's wonderful, Joe ... yes ... oh fuck yes

... god ... you lick slit better than anyone ... ohhh yes ... do it, lover ... lick my slit! Ahhh yes!"

He got on the divan and straddled her body. She groaned as he moved up, squeezing her breasts over his penis. Her head craned and she tried to catch his cock in her mouth as it moved in and out of her cleavage. He fucked her breasts briefly and then, turning around, kneeling over her face, pushed his cock into her mouth and bent forward over her in a sixty-nine. Sayali moaned deep in her throat and sucked his cock and balls hungrily. His hips pumped over her face and her cunt bucked and heaved at his.

After several minutes, they rolled apart. Sayali lay on her back on the divan, panting and gasping as he got to his feet and stood between her spread legs.

"Fuck me," she moaned, spreading her cunt-lips with the fingers of one hand, holding his cock with the other. "Fuck me hard, Joe!"

The gigolo paused with his cock-head at her cunt-lips. Then his buttocks flexed slowly and his hips swung forward. His cock-head squeezed between her cunt-lips, past the gold thread, and burst into her body. Sayali cried out sharply, her back cambering, the breath whooshing from her throat. Her mouth jerked open and her long neck arched. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He paused.

"Yes!" she gasped. "Oh god yes! Fuck me! Fuck me, Joe! Shove it all in!"

The man chuckled softly and eased his hips forward and down. His cock disappeared into her flesh. Sayali moaned thickly, her head rolling languorously from shoulder to shoulder. Deeper and deeper it went, till it was embedded to the hilt. Then he began to fuck her, slowly and heavily, standing upright between her thighs. His buttocks flexed and unflexed and his hips swung back and forth in a steady, unhurried rhythm. His cock glistened as it went in and out of her cunt. One hand on her belly, the other on his hip, the gigolo fucked her masterfully, in total, awesome control. Under him, Sayali groaned and gasped, writhing and panting, her chest heaving, her body jerking and rocking under his fluid thrusts.

"More!" she gasped. "Give me more! Fuck me harder! Come on, Joe!

Do it! Fuck me! Fuck me like a whore!"

The man built up speed slowly. She cried out and her body jerked and lurched on the divan. His hips rocked and swung back and forth and his buttocks flexed and unflexed powerfully as he drove his massive penis in and out of her cunt. He never took his eyes off her face. His hands slid up and down her slender body, caressing her heavy, bouncing breasts, crushing them and making her whimper and writhe ecstatically. Her hips juddered and heaved up and down to his groin. Her hands roamed his chest and shoulders and hips, gripped his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her flesh. Her motions smoothened and matched his in perfect syncopation.

"This is terrific," she smiled, her eyes glittering with lust.

"You're fabulous."

"Thank you," he murmured. "You are very good, too. Now. Faster."

He bent forward, his arms outstretched, his hands on the sides of the divan, her legs locked under his armpits, her body bent over, and began to move even faster. His hips rocked rapidly up and down, his cock grinding deep into her cunt. As he moved in, he swung his hips in tight circles, entering her from all angles. She gasped and cried out. His balls pressed to her cunt-lips with each thrust. He went faster and faster and his handsome head arched back and he groaned in pleasure. Faster still, and now he was ramming and reaming greedily into her. She clenched his biceps and gasped and cried out loudly.

"Ohhhhh yes yes yes Ohhh god yes fuck me fuck me fuck me

Joe-uhhhhOHHHHh!"

Sayali orgasmed violently, her body arching and stiffening, the breath hissing from her throat. The man slammed his cock into her repeatedly with each rising wave of her orgasm, making her lurch and arch and jerk and cry out. The orgasm intensified, lengthened, waned.