Chapter 4

When I finally returned to Delhi, it had been over six years since my first visit and my intense erotic relations with Indrani, her daughter Nila, and her two friends Ajanta and Rashmi detailed in my earlier story, “American Guy’s Journey to India.” While the sex with Ajanta, Rashmi, and Nila was pleasurable, it was my time with Indrani that opened up new experiences for me, allowing me to explore my dominant side. I also discovered the enticement of fucking a woman while her husband watched and then licked up the mess I made in her pussy. When I returned to the U.S., it wasn’t too difficult to find other similar couples, particularly older couples who liked the idea of a young man taking the wife and pleasing her in ways the husband couldn’t. I wasn’t as lucky to find an Indian couple who was willing to let me fuck the wife, but I did find myself on several occasions hooking up with different South Asian women. But that is another story.

Besides exploring my sexuality through all kinds of encounters, I also pursued my graduate studies, combining my interest in economics with architecture through urban planning and design. It was an intense program of study, combined with very competitive internships with some of the best architectural and planning firms in the country. I excelled in my work and when I graduated was offered a position at a top-end New York City firm, a dream job. I plunged myself into the work and my social and sexual life suffered.

When I was offered an opportunity to travel to India, I jumped at the chance to return. Memories of my first visit swirled around in my imagination the weeks before my trip, inspiring me to seek out a couple of lovers before I left. I was lucky enough to hook up with a hot young American-born Indian girl who happened to live in the same building as me with her parents. I had seen her a few times in the elevators, coming or going, but given my work, never really put much thought into it. Until one cold, early winter afternoon I found her sitting in the café next to our building.

We made eye contact as I passed by through the window and I decided to turn around and enter. After introductions, I learned her name was Meera and she was a senior in high school, still in her uniform of the private school she attended. It appeared she had left her key at home and her parents were going to be a while. I nonchalantly invited her up to my flat to wait and she jumped at the opportunity to get out of the café, where she had already been the past hour. Her name was Meera.

She started asking me some personal questions about girlfriends, etc., and soon it came up that I had been to India.

“So, you like Indian women? Did you date any while you were there? Do you find us exotic? A lot of white goes do, but they are pretty stupid too. You ever sleep with any?”

“That’s a lot of questions! And personal too.”

“Sorry, I can go on and on. But, so, do you like Indian women? Do you find us attractive?”

Laughing, I replied, “yes, you are gorgeous.” I said “you” intentionally, seeing how she would react, thinking it was about her personally or Indian women in general.

“Direct, aren’t you? But thanks for the compliment. Guys are always checking me out. How old are you? I’m eighteen you know, just had my birthday last week. You should have been there, there were five of us, two of Indian descent, one Pakistani, one Chinese, and one white girl. We had a blast. Had I known you, we would have stopped by!”

She did like to talk. I finally managed to break her stream, “So, do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

She chuckled. “Just broke up.”

“With the boy or the girl?” I asked, laughing.

“Boy! I’m strictly into dick, well, not strictly, but you know, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“Too bad you are heading to India, maybe you could be my boyfriend. But if you won’t be around, not much purpose now is there. Though, you are pretty hot.”

“Besides, I doubt your parents would approve of me.”

“I don’t know, they just might, single guy, living alone on the upper East Side, you got money. They’d be impressed. But would I?”

“What would it take to impress you?”

“I like being spoiled,” she said with a big grin.

“In what way, sexually, romantically, materially, or financially?”

“All the above! But don’t get me wrong, it isn’t about money or anything. I just like a guy who appreciates his woman.”

“And sexually, how does one spoil you sexually? And shouldn’t you be spoiling your man sexually? I thought Indian women liked pleasing their men.”

“Oh, aren’t we essentializing a bit now? But yes, if a man spoils me, I’ll spoil him right back. How do you like your women to spoil you?”

“Oh, in many ways. First, her breasts. She knows how to tease and entice me with her cleavage and going around braless.”

“So you are a breast man?”

“Indeed!” As I was saying that sitting right in front of me, she went through the maneuvers of reaching up under her blouse, undoing her bra, pulling the straps over her arms through her sleeves, and removing it. I sat there in silent awe, as her young breasts came into clear view under her white school blouse.

“Well, that is bold. And stunningly beautiful. Thank you.”

“So, breasts were first, what’s second?”

“Stand up,” I ordered her.

She did, without a word.

“That is number two, listening and obeying my requests. Are you sure you want number three? Are you prepared for where this is going?”

“Ever been with a high school girl?”

“Not since I was in high school.”

“So, what’s number three? Let me guess, shaving pussy?”

Again, I laughed. “Let’s see. Do a little striptease for me.”

And she did.

She certainly wasn’t shy! She gyrated her hips. Shook her tits, flashed me, then covered them back up and eventually, very slowly, pulled down her panties, first showing me her amazing round, tight ass, then her shaven pussy, glistening with the passion she was no doubt feeling.