&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Erotica by Mary Jorsay Gandmar
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
NOTE: This story may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT
be sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Copyright 1998,
Mary Jorsay Gandmar
<maryjg@finebody.com>
OBSESSION
4
FUTURE TENSE
Over the next three years, Deepika became one of Hedon & Venery's
most accomplished whores. By the time she was twenty, she had
fucked more men than most women did in a lifetime. She loved the
sex, and the money was astonishingly good. Her parents, never
suspecting the truth, were fed stories of her rapid promotion
through the ranks of the hotel's administration. They never tired
of telling others about the money she made, the authority she
wielded, or the long hours she put in at work. Spending money on
fine clothes and expensive jewelry, she was better groomed than
anyone else in the middle-class neighbourhood. Her parents were
proud of the fancy car, provided by the hotel, with a chauffeur in
a smart uniform who collected her each morning. They did not know
that he was one of her lovers; that Hedon & Venery had given her a
superbly furnished, attractive one-bedroom apartment where she
could entertain her lovers; that there she had a retinue of
servant lovers, men and women; that Deepika had moved up two
grades in the sex rankings and now had a choice of clientele and
venue. Favoured customers were entertained at her apartment.
Deepika also did a number of films and still-shoots for
pornographic magazines. Her features did extremely well in the
foreign countries where they were circulated, and there was a
demand for more. When she was nineteen, Hedon & Venery sent her
abroad - ostensibly on a management training programme - but in
reality to spend time and gain international experience at the
company's branches in Stockholm, Dubai, Cannes and Rio de Janeiro.
Deepika had a wonderful time; she took in all the tourist spots,
shopped like it was going out of style and, best of all, had
endless hours of the most glorious sex. She did several live-shows
in Stockholm and Cannes with a number of men and women, shot
several film sequences, whored for rich Arabs in Dubai and made
passionate love to a succession of men in Rio. On the way back,
she did a number of hard-core magazine centrespread shoots in Los
Angeles. Hedon & Venery's international divisions were unanimous
and effusive in their praise.
Back in Bombay, Deepika returned to her sex-work at Hedon &
Venery. There was an endless list of customers to satisfy. Deepika
had developed a liking for lesbian sex and enjoyed performing it
live. She had a live-show scheduled at least once a week, and made
a new film every two months. In addition, there were the magazine
spreads and the orgies that Hedon & Venery catered to, and the
wild in-house bashes. At Gautam's office, selected clients, peons
and staff members had to be satisfied. She never forgot her
beginnings, either. She got Mohan and Dinesh jobs at Hedon &
Venery and sometimes, with luck, they partnered her in a film, or
on stage or for a magazine shoot. The sex with them was always
good and occasionally she took time off with them, spending long
hot afternoons fucking furiously in her pretty little flat.
And there was always Gautam himself. Frequently, he asked her over
to spend the night - she told her parents she would be out of the
city - and they spent hours fucking. She never tired of being
fucked by him. After all these years and all these men, he was
still the finest fuck she knew.
Marriage was the furthest thing from her mind. Deepika saw no
reason to get trapped into a humdrum, boring existence, cooking
and sweeping and swabbing. Her parents' middle-class background
undid her.
Slowly at first and then, faced with her obduracy, with increasing
stridency, they began pestering and nagging her to get married.
She wasn't getting any younger, they said, to raise a family she
would have to do it soon. The longer she waited, the more
difficult it would be to find a suitable match. Boys don't exactly
grow on trees, her mother sulked. She was qualified now, and well
off in her own right, there would be no trouble finding a good,
respectable young man. She was beautiful and talented and what
more could anyone ask for? Deepika protested; she had a career,
she said, she just wasn't interested.
"What career-*shareer* you are all the time talking about?" her
mother shouted. "What you think, married women don't have jobs?
Look at me! For twenty years I have worked, day and night, rain
and shine!"
*Yes*, Deepika thought bitterly, and look at you. Exhausted by the
commute, with no money to show for it, seldom travelled in India,
never abroad and, once quite pretty, now bloated and dull,
indifferent to clothes and food and music and books, glued to the
blasted television set. She kept her silence. She felt she owed
everything to her parents and did not have the courage to confront
them.
"Yes, all right," she mumbled and stumbled out of the house in
tears.
Downstairs, her car was waiting. The driver, a handsome, muscular
Goan stud called Savio, held the door for her. He flicked a glance
at her as she got in and then, without a word, got into the car,
started it and pulled smoothly and silently out of the compound
and into the traffic. Only when they were well away from the house
did he address her, speaking over his shoulder without turning his
head.
"Trouble, ma'am?"
Although Savio was a regular lover and, when in bed, treated her
like the whore she was, at work he maintained the formality Hedon
& Venery required of its staff in public places beyond its veiled
boundaries. Deepika stared moodily out of the window and didn't
reply. Savio flicked a glance at her in the rear-view mirror and
saw the slow tears coursing down her cheeks. He dropped the
facade.
"Deepika?" he murmured. "You okay, babe?"
She sobbed softly. Savio drew up at a red light and looked down at
the clip-board on the seat beside him. It had a typed list of her
day's schedule. Her first assignation was not till mid-afternoon;
she had the morning free.
"I'm going to the flat," he announced softly.
Deepika couldn't have cared less. She felt terrified, hounded and
at bay. She couldn't imagine a life without Hedon & Venery,
without the money and friends and, most of all, without the
exhilarating sex.
They arrived at the towering apartment block where she had a flat
and Savio slotted the car neatly into her reserved parking space.
They rode up the elevator together in silence. The house was
quiet, serene, beautifully furnished, with a stunning view over
the sea and the bay. French windows at the far end of the hall
opened onto a long and broad covered balcony with a wrought-iron
table and matching chairs. Her servants, Kisan and Radhika, stared
at her in dismay as she went past them without a word and
disappeared into her bedroom. This was not the Deepika they knew.
She was invariably cheerful and friendly and always chatted with
them. Both servants frequently shared her bed and she enjoyed
having sex with them. They looked questioningly at Savio who put a
finger to his lips, motioning them to silence. He went to her door
and knocked gently. There was no reply. He tried the knob; the
door was open. He went in, leaving it ajar. Kisan and Radhika
stole after him, peering in, their expressions worried and
concerned.
Deepika stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom that
opened on the balcony, staring out at the glittering sea. Savio
approached her quietly.
"Deepika?"
She didn't turn around. He went up to her and gently put his hands
on her shoulders. Deepika bit her lower lip, stifling her slow
sobs and, closing her eyes, leaned her head on his shoulder.
"What is it?" he murmured. "Tell me. Let me help."
Deepika shook her head. Savio pressed his lips to her head and
cheeks and drew her closer, caressing her shoulders and arms
gently. Deepika took a deep breath, calming herself. Slowly, she
turned around in her chauffeur's arms. For a minute she paused
with her head bowed against his chest. Then, slowly, she lifted
her face to his and slipped her arms around his neck.
"Fuck me," she said huskily. "Fuck me hard Savio. Hurt me."
Savio looked down at her in concern and saw the deep wells of pain
in her eyes. He shook his head sadly.
"C'mon," she grated, between clenched teeth. "Do it!"
She writhed against him with an angry hunger, kissing him
fiercely. Savio was an accomplished stud and he swiftly modulated
his mood to hers. Within minutes, he was fucking her demonically
on the bed, ramming his cock violently and savagely in and out of
her flesh. For the next hour, Deepika made him fuck her
repeatedly, in every orifice, demanding more, wanting to be fucked
harder and deeper. A series of shattering orgasms crashed over
her, leaving her moaning breathlessly. At last, as he came in her
anus, burying his cock deep in her rear-channel, then sliding out
and squeezing it into her cunt, she sank down on the bed, her body
glistening with sweat, her chest heaving. He fucked her cunt for a
few minutes and then slid out of her and lay on his back beside
her. She snuggled against him, caressing his powerful body and
thick penis.
"Thank you, Sav," she murmured. "I needed that."
"Babe, you'd better talk to the boss about this. Whatever it is.
Looks bad."
She didn't reply. Her lips fluttered over his.
"You want more?" he smiled.
"Always."
"Whore.'
"Always." She giggled. "What's my schedule for the day, d'you
know?"
"Of course. You're free till three, when you've got a one-hour
booking. Five-thirty to seven you're on show."
"Oh good. What's it this time? Do I have a lesbo turn?"
"Yeah. With Tanu. Followed by a three-stud wildcard draw each."
That meant six men from the audience would be invited on stage to
fuck the two girls, three men taking each one simultaneously.
"What time is it now?"
He glanced at his expensive Rolex, a gift from a satisfied female
client. "About eleven."
"Plenty of them then."
"Yeah. What would you like to do?"
"Fuck."
He laughed, squeezed her breast. "That I know. *How* is the only
question."
"Outside. I want to watch the servants. And then I want to fuck
them."
"*Both* of them?"
"Both of them."
He laughed and helped her out of bed. Outside, he called to the
servants and told them to start fucking. They understood and moved
to the centre of the hall. Deepika liked watching the servants
fuck. Savio smiled tenderly and pulled her back against him as
they stood and watched. Bending, he pressed his lips to the nape
of her long neck, cupping and lifting her lovely, luscious
breasts. They swelled and grew turgid in his hands, her nipples
stiffening immediately.
Both Kisan and Radhika were full-time employees of Hedon & Venery.
Kisan was a rugged, handsome, muscular man in his mid-twenties.
Broad in the shoulder, with powerful, bulging arms and legs, a
flat, hard belly, a deep chest, high, narrow hips and a big,
eight-inch long and correspondingly thick penis, he was
clean-shaven, with the hard, masculine features of a Maratha
warrior. Thick brows swept over his dark, deep eyes. His nose was
strong and straight, his lips full and sensual. His hair was thick
and cut short. His torso was sexily hairless with small hard
nipples pulled wide and low under his armpits. Over the past three
years, Deepika had spent many hours thrashing under him - he was a
powerful, demanding lover. At Hedon & Venery, he was highly rated.
Radhika, too, was one of Hedon & Venery's finest. At seventeen,
she was svelte and dusky and lovely, with a ripe, superbly curved
body - full, high, sloping breasts, luscious and succulent and
tipped with long, stiff nipples set in dark, puckered aureoles, a
flat belly, flared hips, smooth and slender limbs and wrists and
ankles with shapely hands and feet. She had a long neck and her
face was pretty - oval, with a fine, slim nose, gleaming white
teeth, lovely doe-like dark eyes rimmed with *kajal* and long,
silky black hair she wore in a braid. She wore a small nose-stud,
earrings, finger-rings and a long gold necklace.
Kisan was fucking her on her back, bent over on his knees and
outstretched arms. He thrust into her with a slow, skewering,
scrunching action and, beneath him, the teenager gasped and cried
out, her back bowing and arching, her hips bucking up at his. Her
neck craned and her arched back, her mouth wide open, her eyes
fluttering, her nostrils flared. She gripped Kisan's bulging
biceps and wrapped her legs around his lean hips.
"OHHHHHHHh uhhh Oh ma uhh *hanh* uhhh Oh Kisan!" she cried.
Savio grinned and slid his hands down to Deepika's crotch. Her
cunt-juices were flowing freely. She murmured softly as he began
masturbating her. On the floor before them, the two servants
gasped and grunted. Kisan continued fucking the teenage
maidservant with deep, punishing thrusts, thrusting his cock
unhurriedly in and out of her slit. They hit a steady rhythm.
"Mm ... oh ma uhh *hanh* ... uhh *hanh* Kisan ... *chodh* *mujhe*
... *hanh* ... *aise* ... *chodh* ... *jorse* *chodh*,
*madarchuth*! That's it ... fuck me like that ... fuck me harder,
motherfucker!" the girl gasped.
"*Chul* ... *chul* *rundi* *chul* ... *le* ... *le* *mere* *lavde*
*ko* ... *hanh* ... uhhhh *hanh* uhh *hanh* uhh *hanh* *aise* ...
*chul* *saali* *kutti* *rahnd* ... *pura* *le* ... take it ...
take it you fucking bitch ... take my cock! C'mon whore ... take
it all!" he panted.
Deepika's loins crackled with excitement. Pulling away from Savio,
she moved to the copulating servants. They slowed as she came to
them. Smiling wantonly down at them, she spread her feet on either
side of Radhika's head and lowered herself in a deep squat on her
face. Radhika loved licking cunt and immediately thrust her tongue
up into Deepika's slit.
"Mm ... ohhh yes!" Deepika gasped, squeezing her breasts in her
hands and lifting her face. "Ohhhhhh uhhh yes ... *hanh* ...
uhhhhhh *hanh* ... *chaat* ... *chaat* *mujhe*, Radhika ...
*chaat* *mere* *chuth* *ko*! Lick my slit!"
Kisan grinned and leaned forward, thrusting into the maid under
him. Deepika took his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily,
writhing her crotch on Radhika's face. Kisan bent his head to her
breasts and began sucking them sharply. Deepika gasped, writhing,
and called to Savio over her shoulder.
"C'mere, you," she gasped. "C'mere and fuck my mouth!"
For the rest of that day, Deepika relegated her troubles into the
background and revelled in sex. Her client that afternoon was a
muscular, powerfully built man in his early forties. He was
extremely rich and paid well; but he demanded complete
satisfaction. He had booked her for an hour, and in that time he
fucked her incessantly, taking her at will in every orifice. That
afternoon, Deepika outdid herself, fucking him like one possessed.
When at last he finished with her, fucking her on her back in the
ass, thrusting his eight inch cock deep into her rear channel and
groaning as he exploded, spewing burning jizz into her anus,
pulling out and forcing his cock into her cunt again briefly and
making her groan thickly, he complimented her on her services. She
smiled happily and told him to fuck her again. On the house, she
said, because it was so good. The man laughed softly and fucked
her smoothly, taking her powerfully till she was writhing and
thrashing frantically under him. They came together, finally
sated. He left her an enormous tip.
Later, the live-show was a thundering success. On stage, Deepika
and Tanu fucked each other with wild abandon, using a
double-headed dildo. Tanu leaned over her, thrusting greedily in
and out of her cunt and then two studs came in from the wings and
sodomized them. The audience went wild. When the impresario
announced the lucky draw for the wildcard three-stud, there was a
near riot. The six lucky men jostled each other scrambling to the
stage. The two girls were pinned between three men each and,
within minutes, their bodies were thrashing and writhing
frantically as inflamed penises sawed in and out of their cunts
and mouths and anuses.
The next day, back at Hedon & Venery, Deepika sent word to Gautam.
He called back and immediately asked if she had a problem. It was
unusual for a girl to call him at work.
"No," she said softly. "Not really. At least I don't think so. I
don't know."
He was silent for a minute. Then he said, "Come home tonight. This
sounds serious."
"Not tonight. I have to be home."
"It's Friday tomorrow. Take the weekend off."
"Can't, Gautam. I've got a film and two live-shows. Plus a long
list of guys."
"Cancel them. They'll find substitutes."
"Not on the films."
"Cancel them. I'll talk to Hemant. Bring your bikini. We'll go to
the beach place."
Deepika took the weekend off, telling her parents she'd be in
Calcutta. Gautam took her to his fabulous beach house. They
arrived and went to bed straight away, fucking hungrily for over
an hour till they were sated, at least for the nonce. They lazed
in the pool, had lunch, watched one of Hedon & Venery's latest
pornographic films on the state-of-the-art laser-disk player, a
film featuring some of Hedon & Venery's finest whores and studs.
While she watched, masturbating with a large dildo, Gautam fucked
one of the maids. Then she had one of the men-servants fuck her
and the four of them formed an intertwining quartet so that it no
longer mattered who was fucking whom in what orifice. They slept
for three hours. They woke slowly, and Gautam fucked her gently
again, taking his time, moving gently at first and then faster and
faster till the teenager was screaming for release, mouthing a
litany of obscene love-calls. Getting out of bed, they strolled
naked on the beach, wading and swimming, chatting. As the sun
began to set, Gautam finally turned to her.
"So. What's the trouble?"
Deepika smiled gently. She knew that he had deliberately kept from
asking her throughout the day and, instead, had made her relax,
putting the pressures behind her. She arched on her toes and
kissed him gently, her naked breasts brushing against his chest.
He held her waist and slipped his tongue in and out of her mouth.
"You're a darling," she murmured. "Thank you."
He smiled, cupping her breasts, toying with her erect nipples.
"Fuck me," she said huskily.
His smile faded. "No, not yet. Soon. Later. First I want to hear
about this."
"Tell me something."
"What?"
"Do you always take so much care about the girls who work for
you?"
"Always. Each one is special." And, with a grin, "Some more than
others."
She laughed softly. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"Hopefully. Now talk."
Deepika took a deep breath and began to speak. He bent his head
and listened without interruption, absorbing every word. Arm in
arm, they strolled up and down the beach, wading in the water,
kicking at the rippling surf. There was a silence when she
finished. She let it run for a bit as they walked.
"So. There you have it. And I don't know what to do. I really
don't."
"It may not be as bad as you imagine," he said at last, slowly.
"I've known others who've got married and kept on working. Others
who've come in *after* marriage. They tell their husbands they've
a job and they come in and whore."
"My parents aren't going to find me a guy who'll think like that.
They'll find someone thoroughly middle-class who'll want me at
home cooking and cleaning and keeping house for him."
"You can't be sure of that."
"Believe me, I'm sure. I know my parents."
"And you can't hold out on them, either, can you?"
"Not indefinitely. It'll hurt them too much. It'll kill them. I
don't want that."
"Nobody does."
"And there's no question of a divorce."
"You can't go into a marriage on the footing that it'll end in a
divorce. It has to be the other way around."
"So where does that leave me?"
He stopped and turned, taking her by the shoulders and brushing
her lips with his. "That, my heart, is easily answered. It leaves
you here, with me, now."
"That's all? That's it?"
"Yes. That's all. That's it. You're here, with me, now, and we're
going to fuck through the rest of this weekend. Then one day soon
your parents will fix up your marriage. Then you leave us. Before
you do, complete your commitments. And I want one full week with
you, up in the house in the hills. Alone. Just you and I."
"And then that's it? We never see each other again? My life with
Hedon & Venery is over, just like that?"
"I didn't say that, did I? After that, you'll have to decide for
yourself. See how things are. Perhaps your husband will be an
excellent lover."
"I doubt that. I doubt he'd satisfy me."
"But he might."
"And if not?"
"Well then, that's when you'll have to make the hardest decision
in your life. You'll have plenty of choices - stay with him and
fuck around on the sly; stay with him and *don't* fuck around;
leave him and go on your own; but remember, our doors will always,
*always* be open to you. Anytime you want to come back, feel free.
You're one of us, and you'll always have a home."
Tears glistened in her eyes. He smiled and brushed them with his
fingertips.
"Besides, the flat and the car are already yours. You get to keep
them. We'll pay all outgoings."
She began to cry softly, burying her face against the sprawling
expanse of his chest.
"Don't worry, Deepika. Look, it's a lovely evening. We've had good
sex today, we'll have more. That's what I've always wanted to
teach you people. To enjoy each moment, to the fullest. To sate
yourself with beauty and pleasure and joy. To savour life without
reserve, to cherish the wonders of being *alive* - you *have* to
live for now, don't you see?"
His words were like magic, comforting her, enveloping her in a
warm glow of contentment and peace and security. She felt a
sudden, irrational joy surge through her body.
"You can't make your present miserable worrying about an uncertain
future," he continued. "There's no point in it. One never knows -
anything's possible, who knows what may happen?"
It made sense. The enormous burden that had weighed her down
lifted. She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with a deep,
sensual fire and gently pressed her naked crotch to his thick,
long, still limp penis.
"God, I love you," she murmured. "Fuck me, Gautam ... please ...
fuck me hard ... like a whore!"
In the low, rippling surf, Gautam drew her down on the sand and,
under a canopy of stars, with a pale moon cresting the far spur
and the sea stroking their bodies with tentative, gentle caresses,
made passionate love to her. He didn't just fuck her that evening;
he actually made love to her, taking her as much with his mind and
heart as with his body, drowning her in the power of his love.
Again and again he entered her, his cock running into her mouth,
squeezing between her breasts, crushing into her hot, wet cunt or
grinding into her tight little anus. Deepika thrashed and writhed
rapturously on the sand, gasping and moaning her joy, orgasming
repeatedly and still begging for more.
He never stopped. He stood and holding her in his arms, her cunt
impaled on his cock, her legs wound about his hips, her arms
around his shoulders, carried her back to the house. The servants,
waiting dinner, began to retreat when they saw them. Gautam
motioned them to stay.
He laid her down on the coffee-table in the hall and fucked her
furiously while the four servants looked on. She came again. He
smiled and slid out of her and beckoning to the two maids,
motioned to the two men to fuck Deepika. Settling on a deep sofa,
one maid sucking his cock, masturbating the other, he watched the
two servants fucking Deepika together in her cunt and mouth. He
pushed away the maid sucking his cock and pulled the other's head
into his crotch. The first one stood up and, spreading her legs,
clawing her cunt-lips open, moaning thickly, thrust her groin at
his face. He grinned and began licking her juicy cunt.
On the cool tiled floor, Deepika cried out thinly as the two men
began fucking her in her cunt and ass simultaneously, rocking
their swollen penises in and out of her adjacent orifices as she
lay on her side between them. Her face was contorted and twisted
in agony of lust as she thrashed between them. Gautam felt a
twinge of sadness. He knew that he did not have her for long.
There were others, to be sure, but, as he had told Deepika, each
of his whores was special. The maid in front of him groaned and
clenched his hair. He sighed softly and, turning his face, drove
his tongue into the maid-servant's wet slit.
= o =