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From: "Mary Jorsay Gandmar" <maryjg@finebody.com>
Subject: {MJG} Obsession : 4 : Future Tense
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		      Erotica by Mary Jorsay Gandmar

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NOTE: This story may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT be
sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.

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by 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 =

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