Sin City
Copyright© 2009 by Audrey Haber
Chapter 75
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 75 - A tale about Page 3 lifestyles and relationships set in Bombay, India, in the late Nineties.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic NonConsensual Rape Blackmail Cheating Cuckold Rough Torture Interracial White Male Slow
Arif was taken by the two security guards into a room he hadn't seen earlier. It was a day room, designed with large bay windows facing the East, and light, pastel-toned furniture. A dining table stood before the bay windows, and the very sight of it made Arif's mouth remember his hunger.
Myanmar was standing by the windows, dressed in a different, richer robe. It was Chinese, Arif realized, a beautiful deep purple with a magnificent dragon embroidered in gold thread on the back. The colours and motif of the Chinese Emperor.
He looked freshly bathed, although it was difficult to tell since he was bald and there was no damp hair to offer concrete evidence. He was silhouetted by the faintly roseate light emanating from the distant Eastern sky. First light. He looked magnificent, serene, calm, a pillar of masculine perfection and radiance. Arif could understand why this man had such a following. There was something very unusual about him, very charismatic.
The night before, Arif had seen virtually every woman -- and several men -- beg and fawn for the honour of pleasuring Myanmar.
They had all been refused, and Myanmar had only made love to Sarla. But for a moment, even Arif himself had found the man tremendously attractive.
Now, in his exclusive presence for the first time, Arif felt privileged, honoured. Why, he asked himself. He had no answer, except that every fibre of his being was drawn towards this man, despite all that Lena had told him.
He couldn't believe that Myanmar was just an ordinary con man, a spiritual trickster. There had to be more to it. There must be something genuinely spiritual about him. A tantric empowerment that emanated from his very being, that made you want to supplicate yourself in awe and admiration.
Myanmar turned and looked at Arif. His face was impassive, expressionless, yet Arif had the curious impression that Myanmar was smiling at him.
"Hello, Arif," he said in that strange accent that Arif couldn't quite place. Arif nodded, finding his throat too constricted to form a reply. Myanmar looked at him for a moment, so still and sharply observant that Arif felt as if every pore in his body was being penetrated, every corpuscle examined. Then he stepped forward and placed his hands on Arif's shoulders.
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