Tama Vigit

by God of Porn

Rachael Ross 1982 - 2012

Fiction Story: Stacy thought she had enough problems being the teenage daughter of the hottest teacher in school, but when she discovers that an Indian exchange student will be sharing her bed...Could life possibly get any worse?

Tags: School  

Her name was Tama Vigit and that was the short version, because I guess people from India have really long names or something. But Tama Vigit is what we called her and Just Tama for short. She was an exchange student at my high school, just 16 like me, and I didn't really want her there. Or at least I didn't want her in my house, put it that way. But I didn't have much choice in it.

My dad's a teacher, and worse than that, he's one of my teachers at Jefferson High School. My high school. It sucked having my dad as a teacher, but not for the reasons you're thinking of probably. Yeah, I couldn't skip out on school. And yeah, he came to every single parent-teacher conference. And of course he knew exactly what I was doing every minute of every day. Those are just the obvious things. What might not be so obvious is the fact that I took a hard time from all of my friends, and even kids, girls, who weren't my friends.

"God, your dad is so hot!" my sort of friend Julie was saying during lunch. Sometimes I liked her, sometimes I didn't.

"I bet he's got a big dick." Petra, who was supposed to be my best friend, giggled.

"He was looking at me today." Veronica, or just Ronnie was what she liked, was nodding. "He was checking me out!"

"Oh shut up!" I frowned, wrinkling my nose. "He wasn't even looking at you."

"Does he have a girlfriend yet?" Julie asked, because I had to keep them up to date on my dad's eligibility for some reason.

"No." I rolled my eyes. "And he isn't looking either."

"Every guy's looking!" Ronnie laughed.

"Well, he isn't," I decided, putting down my sandwich. It was peanut butter and jelly, I hated that stuff.

"I'll bet I fuck him first!" Petra giggled some more and I stared at her hard. "Sorry, I just mean..." She looked down, blushing a little because she knew I didn't like it.

They had a bet, my three friends, about which one of them could seduce my dad first. It didn't matter that they were all 16 year old virgins and didn't have a clue about sex, except for what their stupid boyfriends whispered in their ears on Friday nights. They were all determined that my dad would be their first, and which one of them he fucked first, she'd be extra special, or something. It all sounded dumb to me, but he was my dad too, so I didn't exactly see him the same way they did.

I just wished they'd shut up, you know?

But it wasn't entirely their fault, because my dad was and still is a good looking man. At that time he was just 34 years old, but he didn't look it. I mean 34 sounds ancient when you're just 16, but my dad was anything but that. He was tall, with thick black hair, and eyes like so blue, yeah I was his daughter, but wow! His eyes, they could make me forget if I wasn't careful. A strong, clean face, a hard body, really tight abs and a great butt. My dad had an ass that was ... perfect. There just isn't another word for it. Every girl in school checked out my dad's butt ... Now you know why I hated having him for a teacher.

I was cute myself, I mean we all were, you know. I had my dad's blue eyes, thank God! And his black hair, long and wavy. A nice body I was proud of mostly, except my hips were sorta fat, I thought. But nobody else did. I looked good and once my boobs got fully grown, I'd be really hot, or so I hoped.

My friends too.

Petra was a knockout, really, and probably my dad had noticed her. I mean men walked into plate glass windows at the mall when she was around, with her honey blonde hair and perfect face. She modeled for local companies, that's how pretty she was, and someday hoped to go to New York and be a real one. She just needed to get taller, since Petra was only like 5'5 then, but maybe she was still growing. Her boobs were, they were C cups already and she was proud of them.

Julie had nice sized boobs, but they were so firm she didn't wear a bra. Like never, not even during gym class when we'd run laps or whatever. They were just there, like the rest of her. She was pretty much in your face cute, with dark straight hair to her shoulders, parted down the middle around a heart shaped face. Julie was the most outgoing of us, sort of wild, which was maybe why I didn't always like her.

But yeah, Julie was seriously cute, much like Ronnie, who had auburn hair, almost but not quite red, you know? Kind of long and usually in a ponytail. She had an open face, like an innocent girl next door look, with freckles across her nose and dimples. A small body too, very small, but tight. She'd been a gymnast for a long time, but now she was into dance, like ballet and stuff. Ronnie was hoping she'd grow too, because she was only 5'2" then and like 80 pounds soaking wet.

And all three of those girls, who were as pretty and fun and attractive as any three girls you can think of, all of them wanted to have sex with my dad. It was a nightmare sometimes, but manageable, because one thing about my dad ... He was a serious guy. I mean he wasn't one of those teachers you hear about who like rubbing a girl's shoulders, or maybe keeping one for detention, you know? Just so he could talk to her about how her grades might improve with a little friendly persuasion. Nope, my dad was a real teacher, that's what he liked, and students were students to him, that's all.

Even the ones who flashed him hot pink thongs, like I know Petra did sometimes. I'd seen her do it. Or Julie, who would wear thin sweaters and tweak her nipples before class so my dad would see how long and hard they were. And especially Ronnie, who practically melted into his lap every time she had a question. She'd make stuff up too, like "Gee Mr. Robbins, I forgot how to spell my name! tee-hee." and go to his desk and lean way over, smiling and rubbing and ... What a slut.

That's my dad's name, by the way, Mr. Robbins, Michael Robbins. I'm his only daughter, Stacy Robbins.

And then, just as I was thinking I had it covered, that maybe my three friends were harmless because my dad was too cool for that stuff ... Along comes Tama Vigit.

"What?" I was staring at my dad like he'd just told me an alien was coming to dinner. And there was, just a different sort of alien.

"That exchange student, from India. I told the school board she could stay with us." My dad shrugged, like it was no big deal.

"Why?" I blinked, realizing I'd heard him right the first time.

"Well," Daddy shrugged. "She has to stay with someone. She's 16 and you're 16 so ... I thought maybe it would be nice having someone around here you can talk to."

"I can talk to you, Dad." I shook my head. "She ... She probably speaks Indian or something."

"I'm sure she does, but she also speaks English very well from what I understand." My dad smiled, missing the point entirely.

"Where's she gonna sleep?" I challenged him. "The other bedroom's full of junk."

We had three bedrooms in our house, mine, Dad's, and the junk room, so called because it was where we put our junk.

"Uh, well..." My dad took a bite of the casserole I'd made for dinner. " ... This is really good, Stace."

"No, uh-uh..." I shook my head some more. "Not with me, dad, come on!"

"Why not?" He narrowed his eyes. "You have a big bed, a huge bed. Three girls could sleep in it easy."

That was sorta true, I had a king size bed which was monstrously huge, and so did my dad, they'd been on sale for ridiculously cheap when they closed the Hesse's department store downtown. But I loved my big huge bed; I didn't want to share it with some goat girl from India! I didn't want to share my bathroom. I didn't want to share my house. And most of all I didn't want to share my dad. I liked being the woman of the house. My house. And me and my dad talked just fine by ourselves, thank you very much!

"It's my bed, Dad!" I got up, knowing I was acting like a little girl, but I couldn't help it. "You coulda asked, you know!" And then I was running upstairs, leaving my dad to sit by himself.

"I'm sorry," I said.

It was late, my dad was in his bed, grading some papers the way he did mostly. He said it was better than a sleeping pill, grading papers I mean. He was an English teacher, so he had to do a lot of reading of really bad English. Like mine. He was wearing some boxers and a t-shirt, I just had my long sleepy-t and some panties, but we were pretty used to each other anyway. I mean it had just been the two of us since his wife had died like eight minutes after I was born.

I never thought of her as my mom. I'd never had one. She was just my dad's dead wife.

"It's okay, Stace." He nodded, looking at me over the papers he was holding. "You were right; I should have asked you first. This is your house too, and your bed."

"But she's still coming, right?" I sighed, curling up next to him and my dad nodded.


"I guess it's okay." I put my hand on his chest, facing him on my right side. "How long is she gonna be here?"

"About 2 months," Dad told me, checking something on the paper with his red felt tip pen. "Nine weeks. What does this mean, ' ... she wasn't quite nothing like I expected... '?"

"Hey!" I sat up a little. "Is that mine?"

"Uh-huh." Daddy clucked his tongue. "I think I should have a talk with your dad about this story of yours. The grammar is terrible!"

"Oh God!" I just rolled my eyes. "They have a pill for that, you know."

"What? Poor grammar?" He looked at me, smiling.

"Your multiple personality problem." I giggled. "You're so weird sometimes!"

"Yeah," he nodded. "But you love me."

"Yeah," I sighed, closing my eyes and snuggling close. "I do, daddy."

"You're getting an exchange student?" Petra gave me a funny look.

We were all eating lunch again, like we did everyday. Everybody knew a couple exchange students were coming, a boy from Germany and a girl from India, but that was about all we knew.

"Yeah." I picked up a potato chip that had a little green around the edge and looked at it.

"That German guy?" Julie asked me. "I bet he's hot!"

"Are you retarded?" Ronnie stared at Julie. "I bet he's hot ... Ohhh, he's hot ... Wow! He's hot..." She was bobbling her head and imitating Julie. "Grow up!"

"Oh yeah, like you're not checking guys out?" Julie rolled her eyes. "Fuck you."

"Fuck you!" Ronnie shot back. They were always fighting like that though, it wasn't anything to get alarmed about. They'd known each other since they were 3 years old in preschool together, so they were more like sisters than friends sometimes.

"It's not the guy," I said, deciding green potato chips were probably poisonous and throwing it back down.

"You're getting that Indian girl?" Petra asked. "The one from India?"

"No." I smiled. "The Indian girl from France."

"Duh!" Julie giggled.

"Her names like Tajmahalnajaba Vigitasawyararwa wa ya wa..." I just laughed adding syllables.

"God." Ronnie shook her head. "She probably smells bad."

"She's gonna cook a goat, probably," Julie said.

"Probably brought one with her," Ronnie laughed.

"Her boyfriend!" Julie laughed too. It was nice they'd made up already, but God those two could be annoying.

"When is she getting here?" Petra asked, deciding to ignore our two brain damaged friends.

"Umm..." I shrugged. "Like this weekend, Sunday I think. Or else she leaves on Sunday and gets here on like Saturday. It's like the other side of the world so she gets here before she leaves, or something."

"Weird." Petra sipped her coke.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Hey, how come they don't teach sex ed and drivers ed on the same days in India?" Julie grinned at us. "Cause the camel gets tired!"

"That's so stupid." Petra stuck out her tongue.

"Get it? They like fuck the camel!" Julie was laughing and Ronnie too.

"I don't think they got camels in India," I said, but it was sorta funny.

"So?" Julie grinned at me. "You can ask that girl when she gets here."

"Yeah." Ronnie licked her lips. "Ask her if she ever fucked a camel."

"You got a dirty mouth." I started getting up. "Both of you. It's embarrassing."

"Jealous?" Julie made a face at me.

"Teacher's pet!" Ronnie laughed and I hated that. It was the oldest joke in the world, because my dad was the teacher, you know. I'd heard it a gazillion times. Easy.

"I wish I was an exchange student," Petra said behind me as the others got up to follow.

"You wanna go to India?" Julie giggled.

"Vomit!" Ronnie added. "What do ya want to do that for?"

"No, I mean like come here," Petra said. "Stay at Stacy's house for a couple months? With her dad?" I didn't have to see her to know she was wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, no shit!" Ronnie said.

"God, what if she's like totally hot?" Julie asked no one in particular. "Hey, Stace, what's this girl look like?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Indian I guess." I turned my head to look at her. "Brown maybe?"

That got us all thinking though, even me. I didn't want some good looking Miss Teenage India living in my house with me and my dad. Not like I was sick or anything. I didn't want to have sex with my own dad, but still. I didn't really want him to have sex with anyone, you know?

My friends kind of argued it back and forth and then we all wondered just how pretty a girl from India could be anyway. We came to a consensus that she was probably like 4'5" tall, 160 pounds, with a Zapata mustache and hairy pits and some obscene body odor. That didn't sound all that good to me either though, since she'd be sleeping in my bed, but it suited my three friends just fine.

Unfortunately we were all in for a serious disappointment. Like how could it be otherwise?

"Is that her?" I asked for like the fifth time, wondering just how many people they could get on one of those 747 jets anyway.

There was like a million people coming through the gate. She'd have gone through customs in New York already, and then taken a flight from there to here, so at least it wasn't like a direct flight from Calcutta or wherever she was from; picking one girl out of a few hundred Indians all getting off the same airplane would have been really tough. It was bad enough with all the regular people.

"Nope," Dad said. "I don't think so." He was making me hold up the sign that said 'Tama Vigit' on it, cause he said that was what her email said we could call her.

"Shoulda asked for her picture, Dad," I said.

"Yeah ... maybe ... Oh, there I think..." He focused on one girl and I followed his gaze, and I had a sinking feeling that it was probably her, and when she saw me holding the sign she smiled and waved, just a little one.

I figured she'd be like wearing a robe or something. Or silk pajamas maybe, with a veil, you know? But she was wearing a 'I love New York' t-shirt, one of those ones with the heart on it, and a pair of acid washed jeans and some sneakers. She had a backpack over one shoulder, and was pulling a suitcase on wheels behind her. Except for her skin and thick black hair, I didn't think she looked very Indian, I mean she wasn't even that dark really, just sorta creamy coffee colored. Well, the red dot in the middle of her forehead was kinda weird though, I guess.

And she was hot, just walking towards us, and I wished I'd really made myself up nice. But all I'd done was been resentful, so I'd just thrown on some old clothes and barely brushed my hair. This girl had just gotten off an airplane traveling halfway around the planet for like 20 hours straight and she looked great.

I hated her.

"Tama?" My dad was all smiles and Mr. Friendly suddenly.

"Yes." The girl smiled and nodded, looking at my dad. And her eyes were green, like a cat. Not brown. Didn't all those people have brown eyes? Jesus ... Even her eyes couldn't be boring.

And she was tall. Like 5'10 I bet. I thought Indian people were short or something. I'm about 5'6" and I thought I was tall for being 16, but this girl was like a giant. Except she wasn't even fat! She probably weighed as much as me, or just a pound more, maybe. And all her weight was like in her boobs and ass. She had tits like ... Well, not like mine! More like Petra's except ... more. And her butt, I hadn't even seen her from behind and I didn't want to! I could already tell her butt was perfect, it had to be the way those jeans just hugged her hips and butt, and even her thighs too.

My friends were gonna be pissed!

"You are Mr. Robbins, sir? Michael?" she called my dad by his first name and I bit my lip.

"Yeah." Dad nodded happily, like what man wouldn't? "Oh, this is my daughter, Stacy." Dad suddenly remembered me, it was a miracle.

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