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From: "Mary Jorsay Gandmar" <maryjg@finebody.com>
Subject: PENTAPRISM : 2 : Line Of Sight
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PENTAPRISM : Chapter 2 : Line Of Sight

by Mary Jorsay Gandmar <maryjg@finebody.com>

For a glossary of Indian words, see
http://home.onestop.net/cyrene/prose/glossary/glossary.htm OR
http://thunder.prohosting.com/~cyrene/prose/glossary/glossary.htm

Free on-line edition of story at

http://thunder.prohosting.com/~cyrene/prose/hough/anuja.htm and
http://home.onestop.net/cyrene/prose/hough/anuja.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The handsome young servant pressed his eye cautiously to the keyhole of the
locked door. His vision was framed by the aperture. He held his breath and
watched the seventeen-year old girl within the room.

Humming to herself, Anuja selected a cassette and popped it into the stereo
deck. She adjusted the controls and a popular number began playing, with a
steady, insistent beat. Snapping her fingers, mouthing the words, jigging in
tune to the music, she crossed to the bank of closets. The servant's view
was obscured by the open leaf. She closed it, her arms full of clothes and
dumped them on the bed at the far end of the room, directly opposite the
door. She flipped open a box of assorted chocolates from the bedside table
and, selecting one, popped it into her mouth.

There was a dressing table with a full-length mirror at the foot of the bed.
She stood in front of it and quickly unbuttoned her long white *kurta*,
pulled it off her head. The servant gasped behind the door. He could see
hear naked back, the bra straps. She tugged at the drawcord of her
*churidar* and it rustled to her feet. Her panties were very small, white.
Humming, she turned and now he had a glimpse of her full frontal. His penis
bounced erect.

She was very lovely. Dusky, sensual, fleshy, with large, dark eyes, lined
with *kajal*, thick black hair that fell to her waist in a braid. Her skin
was smooth and clear, with several attractive and sexy birth-marks on her
face and neck. He saw one on the inside of her left breast. Her breasts were
large and full and heavy, with a devastating cleavage. She wore a gold chain
around her neck. It glistened against her tawny skin. Her belly was firm and
flat and her hips flared perfectly, to sweetly curved buttocks and long,
firm legs. Her limbs were smoothly turned and her feet and hands were
elegant and shapely, beneath slender wrists and ankles. She wore a silver
toe-ring, two diamond rings on one finger, a small diamond nose-stud,
matching ear-rings. A *bindi* dotted the middle of her forehead. Her nose
was slightly heavy, but perfect on her. Her lips were full and luscious and
her teeth were perfect, white and strong and even.

Her brassiere was very pretty, with thin straps and tiny cups that only just
covered her nipples, leaving most of the luscious brown globes bare. He
could see the stubs of her nipples and the dark shadows of her aureoles
through the fine material. Her panties were so small that they barely
covered her slit, and tiny dark hair crept from either side of the V. The
darkness of her delta was clearly visible. The servant groaned softly as he
watched her.

She paused and reached behind her with both hands to unhook her bra. Her
chest thrust outward and her breasts strained at the confines for a second,
and then she slipped the straps off her rounded shoulders and her breasts
bounced free. She tossed the bra into the pile of clothes at the foot of the
bed and then, hooking her hands in her panties, rolled them down and kicked
them aside. The servant stared at her naked body in mounting desire. The
dark triangle of her cunt mesmerised him. As he watched, she bent to pick up
the discarded clothes and carried them to the laundry basket in the corner.
She dumped them in it and strolled back. The servant watched her breasts
bouncing.

She stopped before the mirror, right in front of him. He could see her front
in the reflection quite clearly. Reaching up, she coiled her long braid into
a knot high on the back of her head, accentuating the sweep of her neck. The
gold chain glistened on her flesh. Then she paused and smiled at her
reflection. She looked at her teeth, grimacing, turning her head this way
and that. Then she stopped, and he saw her eyes sparkling with mischief. She
held her palms between her breasts, the outside edges touching, palm to the
tip of her little finger and slowly weighed and lifted her breasts. Gently,
she began to thumb her nipples. Moistening her finger with her tongue, she
rubbed her nipples and aureoles. Her nipples stiffened and she pinched them
gently, tweaking and twirling the hard stubs. The servant saw her breathing
get shallower and more rapid, the tensing of her body, the parting of her
lips, the flaring of her nostrils, all the unmistakable signs of sexual
arousal. She squeezed her breasts in her hands, the flesh squeezing between
her fingertips and arched her head, her tongue arching lasciviously over her
upper lip.

Outside, watching her, the servant groaned and pulled his erect cock out of
his shorts and began to masturbate slowly. He pressed his eye to the keyhole
again. She was still fondling her beautiful breasts.

Anuja knew she was being watched. He had been doing this for some weeks now
and, long ago, she had seen the dark eye glittering beyond the keyhole and
knew it was him. She felt no revulsion or shame, rather enjoyed the
attention. She was horny and sexy, and the man was sexy. So what if he was
only a servant? He was a human being, after all, and a very desirable one.
He was quite tall and dark and muscular, with a finely chiseled face and the
strong features of the warrior Maratha caste. His eyes were deep-set and
dark, his nose fine and straight, his mouth lean and wide. His shoulders
were broad, his chest cleaved and muscular and hard and his belly was a slab
of rock. His waist was narrow, his hips were high and buttocks taut. His
arms and legs bore thick bunches of musculature. She knew his body was lean
and tough, his torso smoothly hairless. She had often watched him as he came
out of his bath in his shorts and nothing else, toweling his thick, tousled
hair. His nipples were small and dark and pulled low and wide on either side
of his heavy pectorals. All said and done, Baban was one sexy hunk of a man
and she liked the fact that he desired her. One day, she promised herself,
she would entice him to fuck her.

Baban knew nothing of this. His lust for her body was overpowering, and he
could not take his eyes off her. He watched as she continued to fondle
herself, squeezing and massaging her generous, gorgeous breasts. How he
wanted to feel them, take them in his hands, sense their weight and
fullness, feel the stiffness of her nipples in his fingers, watch her
pleasure as his hands, not hers, moved over her irresistible flesh.

He gasped softly. In the room, Anuja smiled wantonly at her reflection and
slid a hand down to her crotch. Baban watched her face crease in pleasure as
she teased her cunt-lips open and rubbed her finger along the slit. She
gasped and her hips lurched, her buttocks writhing and twitching. Her mouth
fluttered open and, slowly, she slid a finger into her cunt. Gently, she
masturbated before the mirror, moving her finger in and out of her slit,
twisting it round and round, while her other hand fondled her visibly
swollen breasts. She gasped softly and her hand moved faster in her crotch,
her wrist pumping back and forth. Her hips twitched and lurched, rocking and
jerking back and forth, and her fingers were frenzied on her breasts. Baban
groaned in despair. She deserved better than her fingers; she deserved a
cock, a big, thick cock in her cunt.

Obviously, Anuja felt no differently. She kept masturbating and, as he
watched, leaned forward on an outstretched arm, her hand on the dresser
counter and spread her feet wide. Her buttocks splayed open and Baban had an
unobstructed view of her puckered anus and her unfurled cunt-lips with her
slender, shapely, elegant finger arched into it, rocking in and out, in and
out. In the mirror, her upturned face was a vision of lust, her mouth a wide
'O'.

Baban pumped his cock eagerly, moaning and gasping. In the room, Anuja's
body rocked back and forth and he saw her pendulous breasts jiggling and
bouncing, saw, too, the expression of delight on her face and her finger,
wet and sticky, wriggling and darting into her tender cunt-flesh.

Abruptly, she stopped and rummaged in a drawer in her cupboard and pulled
out something. Baban gasped when he saw that it was a *dandiya*, one of the
pair of sticks used in the annual, traditional *raas-garba* dances. He
expected her to use it as a dildo, but she surprised him yet again. Her
chest heaving with excitement, her eyes dilated and glassy, her nostrils
flared, Anuja moved away from the mirror.

The bed had a carved wooden head-board and a matching, slightly lower
foot-board. There was a decorative mirror above the bed, too. The ends of
the foot-board bore carved wooden knobs, raised high, just below
groin-level. Baban watched pop-eyed as she mounted the knob, spreading her
legs on either side of it, one foot on the bed with her knee deeply bent,
the other on the floor, her back to him. Slowly, she eased her cunt down
onto it, and in the mirror, her face spasmed with lust and her head arched
back and her mouth jerked wide open as she sank her cunt onto the knob. He
watched her moan, heard her voice, soft and husky and sexily sibilant and
she gripped the woodwork and forced her cunt deeper onto the pillar. It
disappeared into her flesh, the entire knob and part of the supporting
cylindrical shaft. Whimpering, she rocked slowly back and forth, her cunt
impaled on the wood. Moaning, she leaned forward and gripped the carved
fretwork. Baban saw her buttocks flex tight, open, flex again and then she
was fucking herself slowly and heavily on the bedstead, her buttocks
writhing, swaying, rocking back and forth, up and down. Her face turned, her
eyes half-closed, her mouth open sensuously and her tongue swirled in an
erotic arc over her upper lip. How he longed to fuck her mouth, feel her
suck and lick his raging erection. His fingers were sticky with gunk.

On the bed's foot-board, Anuja gasped and moaned, rocking her body back and
forth. The knob and shaft glistened with cunt-juice. Her cunt ran up and
down the shaft, and her hips swirled, her cunt churning itself with the
knob. She caressed her swinging, pendulous breasts sexily. The gold chain
around her neck rocked back and forth. Groaning, she fumbled for the
*dandiya*. Slowing her motions, she paused to uncap a jar of cream and
dipped the narrower end of the *dandiya* into it. Pulling it out, she
smeared it slowly and then her hand went between her buttocks and Baban saw
her anoint her anus and understood what she was going to do and his jaw
dropped in shock and astonishment.

Moaning, Anuja leaned forward again and shuffled her feet further apart.
Holding the bed-stand with one hand, the *dandiya* in the other, she
stretched a hand behind her buttocks and pressed the lubricated tip of the
rod to her anus. He saw her pause and then her arm flexed and she pushed the
*dandiya* into her asshole. Her head snapped up and he heard her cry.

"OHHHHHHHHHH ma unhhhhh OHHHHHHH!"

Her fingers tensed on the fretwork. Her face convulsed and spasmed in a
trismus of excitement. Her buttocks lurched and writhed and sank deeper onto
the upright pole and knob. The hand behind her began to move slowly, rocking
back and forth, pushing the tip of the *dandiya* in and out of her anus. At
the same time, her cunt slid up and down the bedpost. Faster and faster she
went, moaning, gasping, rocking and lurching. Her breasts jiggled and
bounced and he saw that her nipples were nut-hard. Her hand rocked behind
her back, moving the *dandiya* in and out of her anus faster and faster,
deeper and deeper. With a shuddering gasp, she orgasmed, her back bowing
inward, her face jerking up and contorting with lust, the hand behind her
back tensing, pressing the *dandiya* deep into her anus while her cunt sank
deeply onto the bedpost. On and on it went, and she moaned, gasped, her
chest heaving till it gradually ebbed.

Slowly, she slid the *dandiya* out of her anus and gingerly lifted her cunt
off the bedpost with a shaking moan. She flopped on the bed and lay across
it, her hips at the edge, her feet on the floor, her chest heaving. He could
see her cunt-flesh clearly, for her thighs were spread wide. Moaning, she
caressed her breasts again, and her hand slid down her body to her cunt and
she slid her finger sensuously up and down the wet slit. Baban thought the
sight of her dark, wet cunt against her slender, bejeweled finger was
incredibly erotic.

At last she rose and smiled to herself. It was a satisfied, sensual, wanton
look, her eyes glittering with pleasure. Baban saw that she was sweating,
beads of perspiration dotting her upper lip and coursing between her
breasts. She went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Her breasts
bounced as she walked.

The bathroom was positioned so that her every move was reflected in the
mirror above the bed outside, or the one above the dressing table and so
fully visible to Baban at the keyhole. He watched her on the toilet,
douching herself carefully and then she went into the shower, humming to
herself. Baban watched as she bathed and shampooed. When she soaped herself,
her hands roaming her breasts and buttocks and thighs, lathering her crotch,
Baban saw her smile again in pleasure. She plucked the handshower from its
bracket in the wall and adjusted the spray to a hard, drumming, spurt. She
ran it over her breasts and he saw her nipples harden. Then she spread her
legs and, arching her head, directed the jet into her slit. Baban watched
her move it closer to her cunt-lips. Finally, she had it jammed to her
cunt-lips and with her other hand she turned the tap up full. The water
pressure must have been terrific gauging from her reaction for she gasped
and her hips lurched and her head snapped back and she moaned wantonly.
Again she squeezed her breasts in excitement as the water drummed and
hammered into her cunt. Her hips twitched and jerked back and forth. She
clenched the shower-rod and gasped and her face contorted in a rictus of
pleasure, her head arching back, falling forward, rolling from side to side
as she moved the water-jet around in her groin.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the bath with a towel wrapped around
her waist, her torso bare. Her body glistened with water. Absurdly, there
was a big, long carrot on her desk. Taking it, she turned and advanced to
the door. Baban froze, terrified that she might fling it open and catch him.
Instead, she stopped and slowly dropped her towel. Her cunt was inches from
his eye, just on the other side of the door. His vision filled with it. He
stared at it greedily, longing to plunge his now throbbing penis into it
again and again, to feel its heat and wetness and tightness. She parted her
cunt-lips and he saw clearly the tender bright cunt-flesh, the hard stub of
her clitoris and he longed to suck it, nibble it, taste the juice that
seemed to flow still for the flesh was wet.

Anuja lay on the floor on her back and spread her legs wide, lifting her
feet to the wall on either side of the door beyond which Baban knelt,
gasping and gaping. Now she was right in front of him and he was looking
between her split legs, straight down at her unfurled cunt. Anuja smiled
wantonly at the door, and, holding the carrot, inserted it slowly into her
cunt. Her arms were stretched and her breasts bunched between them. Baban
gasped. Slowly, she began to masturbate, moving the carrot in and out of her
cunt. He watched it grow wet and shiny with her cunt-juices. She murmured in
pleasure and her hips lurched and rocked and her body rocked gently back and
forth. She moved the carrot in and out of her cunt, round and round. Licking
a fingertip, she moistened her aureoles and caressed her breasts sensuously
while her other hand kept working between her legs. On and on she went and
finally exploded, gasping and mewing, her hips arching and lurching upward.
Slowly, she slid the carrot out of her slit and, with a lascivious grin,
began to nibble on it.

All this time, her eyes were on the door and it seemed as if she knew he was
there and wanted him to be. *Fuck me*, she seemed to say. *I want you*. It
was what he desired more than anything else in the world and, on the other
side of the door, so did she. Groaning, Baban exploded, flooding his hand
with jizz.

And then she got up and hung her towel over the doorknob, covering the
keyhole and eclipsing his pleasure.

-- END OF CHAPTER 2 --

NOTE : THIS STORY MAY NOT BE SOLD OR DISTRIBUTED FOR COMMERICAL GAIN/PROFIT.
Contact Mary Jorsay Gandmar <maryjg@finebody.com>



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