Chapter 3: Betrayal

I was around 25 years old when we were invited to Rajesh’s wedding on Mauritius, an ex French island nation in the middle of the Indian ocean. He asked me to be his best man, which surprised me as we had barely spoken in years. I’d assumed he’d found new friends by that time.

Mom was upset; “I know I should be happy for him, I thought I was over it by now.” She groaned.

We booked a flight; neither of us had left Saudi Arabia for over 10 years so it was kind of exciting. A car met us at the airport and took us to a distant hotel that was booked for the 3 day event.

Although it wasn’t even an elaborate wedding by Indian standards, it was quite the event for us. Guests flew in from India, the US, and Saudi.

Raj looked fit; he hadn’t gained the height I had though. He seemed to freeze when he saw us. Well, when he saw my mother. He looked sort of shocked.

“Oh wow.” Mom muttered.

“What?” I demanded.

“He’s still into me.” She said in a tone that let me know it was reciprocal.

We were a little early, most of the other guests would only get there the next day. We met the bride, a gorgeous and freakishly tall Indian woman who’d grown up in the US. Raj was still just around 167, 5’6” tall, the top of his head was as high as her nose. She had the same milk chocolate complexion as my friend, big almond eyes, and a prominent nose.

I talked to her while mom sat in a corner with Raj. I have to admit, I was more than a little bit jealous of my friend. She had the most lustrous hair I’d ever seen (ok, we don’t see much female hair in Saudi Arabia), high cheekbones, a generous mouth, a long neck, a hypnotically beautiful voice, and she was extraordinarily nice too.

And more than a little flirtatious.

Radha was there of course, with her own fiancé, and she seemed intent on avoiding me. She talked to mom for a long time though. I would have liked to spend some time with my old flame, but I respected her unspoken wish to keep a distance.

I talked to the bride again after dinner. Jyoti looked resplendent in a gold color sari; she laughed when I complimented her on it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever worn one of these things.” She told me, “I wouldn’t be able to put it on without help.”

We sat at a table on the edge of a large stone terrace over the beach as the sun set into the sea.

“How did you meet Raj?” I asked her.

“I didn’t.” she told me, “Until a few weeks ago. Our marriage was arranged when we were children; our families had neighboring coffee farms in the hills of Karnataka. There was a fat cash offer for both farms, only everyone had to agree. Raj and I were babies at the time; anyway, our marriage was part of the deal. I always knew about it, I just never thought I’d really do it. I’m American you know, I only speak English and I don’t know how to tie a sari. I broke up with my boyfriend last year and my mother and I traveled to India to visit the family, and I was introduced to Raj.” The story stopped then, as if the rest was obvious.

Mother heard the rest of the story from Raj; there was some family pressure on them both, not too intense. It was accepted that they were both “Foreign returned” and no longer subject to Indian customs. Both families had done well and moved on. Still, there was a lot of money for them both if they agreed to the match.

Jyoti was an American girl; she’d had boyfriends, lived in with one of them too. She had US citizenship.

Raj had a degree in computer technology from ITT, quite prestigious. They hadn’t had sex together.

“He told you that?” I asked.

“He did.” Mom replied, “I think he’s so horny that he agreed to this madness.”

“I don’t know; she seems really nice.” I argued.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that big eyes cute innocent girl routine! She’s a slut, I don’t think she’s good enough for Raj Travis. She even did it with the janitor from her school.”

“Why, you have something against janitors?” I demanded angrily. “Anyway, where did you get that from?”

“Raj told me.” She said.

“So she told him everything, and he knows. It’s not for us to say.” I said.

“Then who will? Radha is steeped in her family crap, Raj is being pushed into a disaster, and his dick is leading him right into it.”

“Mom.”

“What?”

“Don’t sleep with the groom.”

“Huh, you should talk. I thought you were going to unwrap that long chocolate girl right there on the balcony.”

We’d stopped having sex with each other (again) a few months before. Neither of us had been getting any.

We had a suite across the hall from Raj and Radha. A center sitting room, 2 bedrooms, and a shared bathroom that had 2 doors, one into each bedroom. A very weird setup.

The next morning I went for a walk on the beach at dawn. I saw Jyoti standing at the edge of the surf, the foamy surge sliding over her feet and then retreating, leaving a smooth area of undisturbed sand all around her. She looked up and saw me, her face opened into a big smile.

Mom was right; the bride was into me. And man, she was irresistible in a bikini. Her ass was half covered, round and tight as only a young ass can be. Her breasts were small compared to my mother’s whoppers, and seemed to hold up the bikini top instead if it holding her up. Her hair was in a single thick braid down her long beautiful back.

We walked along, there was no one around. Her voice was deep, musical.

“Rajesh told me he had a girl in Saudi.” She told me, “And I told him everything too. We like each other, still this seems crazy.”

“I work with a lot of Indian people.” I replied, “Most have arranged marriages. As far as I can tell, the odds of success are about the same as a love marriage.”

“Yes, for Indian people who haven’t been exposed to western culture.” She argued, “I’ve been brought up to expect more.”

“Raj is a good guy.” I said.

“I know that; but marriage? It’s crazy, I’m thinking to just call it off.”

“Is it true you haven’t even slept together?” I asked.

“We haven’t. Somehow it just hasn’t come up, this union isn’t about that. I mean, it sort of is, sexual pleasure is fleeting, a moment in the life. And it soon fades; so really, people make these big life decisions based on an hour of fun. What’s more important is whether a couple will stay together without sex.”

“Well, sure.” I agreed, “Still, shouldn’t you have sex also?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She teased, “As soon as we’re married. I don’t know, it’s all weird. What about you, Travis? Any romantic interests?”

“Not at the moment. It’s a minefield in Saudi Arabia, for us working class people anyway. And everyone self segregates too, that makes the dating pool pretty small. What was it like as an Indian growing up in the US?”

“Difficult; my parents didn’t want me to date, like at all. I ended up being abused by a man who worked at the school.”

She stopped talking suddenly. “I never told anyone that, except Rajesh. He told me he was abused by an older woman, we really have the same life experience.”

“He told you he was abused?” I asked in surprise.

“You didn’t know? He didn’t use that word, he only told me she was his mother’s boss.”

I kept quiet, although my mother was never Radha’s boss, they were colleagues.

That night there were 30 people at the dinner, as more guests arrived. The guests were about 60% Indian, with a smattering of Africans and the rest white. And everyone was talking to everyone, without a care.

I moved around, shaking hands with the men and flirting with the women. It was like breathing clean air for the first time, being able to talk and laugh with everyone without worrying about who was who. Everyone except Radha.

She was older, rounder, and her hair had a lot of grey in it. She was wearing a sari now, it was so elegant and sexy to me; I knew it was sort of ceremonial, I’d never seen her wear the traditional Indian outfit while she lived with us. I had the idea that if I just got her close, and gave her the eye, I could have her again.

“Travis!” Mom hissed, “She’s in a relationship, a suitable one! Leave her alone!”

“I wasn’t trying anything.” I muttered sullenly.

“I need to talk to Rajesh alone.” Mom told me after dinner, “Come with me up to his suite, I need cover.”

“You make it sound like a covert op.” I joked.

“Well, it is.” Mom said. “If Radha catches me interfering, she’ll freak.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t interfere then.” I suggested.

“Let’s go.” She answered. “I just need to make sure he’s not being pulled by the cock you know.”

That was how I came to be guarding the door as my mother took my friend to bed on the night before his wedding.

And then the bride arrived; in flowing colors, gorgeous, scented.

“Oh, Travis.” She said nervously, “I’m looking for Rajesh.”

“The night before the wedding? That’s cutting it close.” I said, trying to think of a way to stop her from discovering that her fiancé was fucking my mother in the next room.

“I decided that you’re right, this is ridiculous. Neither of us are virgins, we should both know what we’re getting into.”

I was desperate then; I had to get her away before she figured it out. I stood up, close to her, I stared into her face at close range. That had always worked with Radha and mother. I was tall now, a head taller than Raj and just slightly taller than his gorgeous fiancé.

“Oh god, your eyes.” She gasped, “You have his eyes.”

Just then, I thought I heard a bump from the other side of the door; damn my horny mother, why couldn’t she fuck someone else tonight? There were a lot of guys here. Anyway, I was afraid that Jyoti would hear something, and without thinking, I put my hands over her ears. That is, I took her face between my hands.

And once I’d done that, the rest was inevitable.

I kissed her, and her tall young body melted against me, strong and thin, her perfume filling my head with evil intent, I pulled her to the outer door, checked the hallway, and then pulled her across into my room.

I fixed her with my stare again, it seemed to have an effect on her. My cock was screaming for her, my balls ached, my mouth watered; my brain however, was telling me a different story. She was my best friend’s fiancé!

On the other hand, if she succumbed to me, then she shouldn’t marry Raj. It was a test, I told myself. If I got her, I was saving Raj from a big mistake.

Besides, otherwise she’d find out what he was doing with my mother, and the result would be the same.

Her dress had a zipper down the back, which somehow held my thumb and forefinger, pulling my hand down. Her hair was open, her mouth slack, her eyes hungry as they looked up into mine.

I’d never been with a suitable lover. Each one was more wrong than the last. And more beautiful.

Jyoti had a sort of desperate darkness to her. She was young, beautiful, educated, American, she had a job, a degree, and a trust fund. She should have been bright and happy on the eve of her wedding, not desperately opening the belt of the best man.

“Oh wow, what a nice cock!” she said happily as her brown hands wrapped around my stiff white erection.

I took all my clothes off and sat with her as we made out, she was still in a lacy bra, separate black stockings, and panties. My cock throbbed with desire in her hands as we kissed for a few long minutes.

I had her; she was willing, there was nothing to stop me from fucking my best friend’s girl. In fact, there seemed to be no way to NOT fuck her. I was trapped by her grip on my cock, the desire in her eyes, the moisture in her vagina as it clamped my fingers. I pulled off her panties, threading the thin garment down her long legs and over her small well formed feet.

I held the feet in my hands, pressing my thumbs into the arches, I tore my look away from her eyes to see her vagina, pink and open, glistening at me from her hairless groin, carefully prepared for my friend Raj.

Who was, at that moment, betraying her.

Why though? He’d agreed to marry this beautiful sweet young woman. I knew he was into my mother (in all ways), and I supposed he had changed his mind, cold feet, last minute doubts.

Or maybe he just thought he could have one last fuck before commitment; if that was so, then it was also ok for his bride to have it off with me, right?

I put Jyoti’s ankles on my shoulders, her eyes had me again, her legs slid up as my face went down, down between those wonderful amazing legs, until my mouth found her waiting vagina.

Her knees were hooked over my elbows, her tight round ass in my hands, our eyes remained locked as I tasted her, sucked her, licked her clitoris. I pushed my tongue in and felt her vagina squeeze it, and she laughed quietly at my surprise.

I put all my experience to use; the lessons in pussy licking I’d had from Radha and Mother. I never liked “69” much, I liked it like this, even though the geometry often made it difficult to get comfortable. Mouth in the cunt, looking into her eyes. Jyoti had lovely dark eyes like Radha, so unlike Mom and I.

She liked it, even though I could tell that she wouldn’t climax from this. It was time to put my rod in there.

I’d come to Mauritius prepared. I had condoms (I didn’t use them with Mom, they were in case I found someone at the wedding).

She waited while I pulled it on, waited with her eyes and her legs open. And then I was above her, my rod was in her hand for a moment, and then I was easing into her, sliding deep inside her, until we were pelvis to pelvis, eye to eye, mouth to mouth, hands, arms, legs tight, her firm little breasts squeezed between us as I did it to her.

It took less than a minute for her first orgasm, her second followed soon after.

I kissed her pretty mouth, and hesitated for a moment. We’d connected, and I had no doubt that a third orgasm was to be had, maybe even a fourth; perhaps it would be better to stop now though. What if she would still marry Raj, and I’d fucked her to four orgasms?

“Go on, don’t stop now!” she gasped urgently.

I thrusted hard, I bounced her around the cushions, I pumped her with everything I had, and she just grinned, her eyes bright and open, her thick black hair flying around us as she climaxed again, and again.

I pulled it out, I don’t like to come inside a condom. I stripped it off and put my rod between her breasts.

“Come in my mouth!” she requested, taking my hard rod in her hands.

She put me into her mouth, and sucked me as I came. And even then, her eyes never wavered.

“That was great.” She mumbled, head on my chest as her fingers idly weighed my empty balls. “I thought I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean, couldn’t what?” I asked.

“Come. I haven’t been able to come since that man abused me when I was 15.”

She sat up and turned her face to look at me. Damn, what a pretty face.

“It was a sort of exploitation circle, almost cult like.” She told me, “I was befriended by a group of girls, they pressured me into having dinner with him alone in his apartment. He had those eyes like you have, I was hypnotized or something. He told me to get undressed and into his bed and I just did it. The worst part was the orgasms; I came and came with him, and it made no sense because he was old and I didn’t even like him.

“When I finally got free of him, I went out with one boy after another, and none of them did it for me. I just assumed I was broken, the trauma had ruined me. That’s what I meant when I said sex was unimportant. I had no expectation of sexual gratification, Travis; with Rajesh or with you.”

“Why did you come to bed with me then?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know. I guess I had to try one last time; what do I do now?”

“Sleep with Raj?” I suggested, before realizing that might no longer be possible before the ceremony time.

She looked angry, and got out of the bed. I realized that I’d really put my foot in it. She pulled open the bathroom door and screamed; I looked through to see Raj was in there washing off his cock in the sink, and the other door was open into mom’s room and she was standing there naked.

They saw us; we saw them.

Mom and I packed our bags and attempted to slip away in the night, only we couldn’t get a car out there. Defeated, we went back up to our suite. The hotel was dark, the quiet so thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it.