Indian Babe
                          by James Campbell


A geography teacher befriends a new student and is rewarded beyond
his wildest imaginations.  

                                -=*=-

Copyright 2002 by James Campbell - All rights reserved.
This story may not be reproduced in any form without explicit
permission from the author.  The author reserves exclusive rights to
post this story on usenet.  Permission is granted for you to make and
keep one (1) electronic copy for your personal use as long as this
notice is retained, unchanged, as a part of this document.  No other
archiving, commercial or otherwise, is permitted.

Published with permission from the author by TYGER. 

                                -=*=-

She entered into my life on 15 November and changed it forever.

It was a Thursday afternoon, soon after the end of lessons at the
school where I taught Geography.  The weather had been terrible --
cold, wet and dreary -- and I could not wait to get home to my
bed-sit to relax.  However, I had already committed myself to
assisting some of my colleagues with preparations for the school's
Christmas show and so reluctantly, I trudged down to the school hall
to await my fate.

The hall was a mass of activity, with children playing around,
teachers trying to control them and the director looking harassed.  I
knew all but a few of the pupils present, for they attended my
classes on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings.  Of those I did not know,
one in particular caught my attention -- a small Asian girl, perhaps
12 years of age, sitting on a bench to the side of the room looking
bored and a bit lost.  No one having noticed my arrival, I walked
over to the girl and sat down next to her.

Close-up, I realised what had drawn me to her.  Her face was small
and oval, with deep mahogany eyes, full lips and smooth mid-brown
skin.  Through her standard school uniform of white blouse, striped
tie and pleated navy blue skirt, I could see that she was short and
slight -- perhaps four feet ten inches tall and weighing six stones.
Beneath the blouse, slight mounds were evident on her chest,
indicating the onset of the first signs of puberty.  Her crowning
glory however was her hair -- dark auburn in colour, it stretched
down to the base of her back, tied back by a single red ribbon.
All-in-all, this young girl presented the most perfect image of
female beauty and sexuality that I had ever encountered.

It took me a few seconds to regain my composure before starting a
tentative conversation.  At first, the girl was reluctant to speak,
but I did manage to get her to open up after a while.  It transpired
that her name was Seema and she was in fact 13 years old.  Her family
had arrived in this country from India during the summer, so she had
only been at the school for a few months.  Her initial limited grasp
of English and the sudden change of culture meant that she had not
managed to mix well with the other children and it was for this
reason that it had been suggested by her form teacher to get involved
in the show.  However, the director had yet to make use of her and so
she still felt out of place and unwanted.

I was pleasantly surprised about the way in which Seema had opened up
to me, perhaps feeling empathy with me for some reason.  We chatted a
little more about her life -the subjects she was studying, where she
lived, more about her family background -- before the director
finally recognised our presence and asked whether we could assist on
the back-stage preparations.  Not being a thespian at heart, I was
grateful for the chance to do something useful without the trials of
dealing with temperamental actors and actresses, especially teenage
ones!

After an hour of moving boxes, painting scenery and other such tasks,
I along with everyone else was dismissed for the day.  I said
farewell to Seema and the others present and set off to my home.
That night, there was only one thought on my mind.  I lay in my bed
for what seemed like hours visualising her and imagining that I was
still listening to her soft, beautifully accented voice.  Eventually
I drifted off and it was only the following morning that I found the
sticky wet patch on the sheet, indicating that my sub-conscious
perhaps wanted something more physical than mere images and words.  I
was shocked by the discovery, not because I didn't find her sexually
attractive (I knew I did!) but because I was finding erotic
stimulation in one so young -- an experience new for me.  I resolved
to put these thoughts out of my mind.

The next few days passed like a blur, as I concentrated on teaching
during the day and relaxing during the evenings.  However, as hard as
I tried, Seema was never far from my thoughts and at night they were
fully focused on her with the same results as before.  It was not
until the following Monday that I saw her again, albeit briefly in
the corridor, and as she smiled sweetly at me, my heart missed a beat
in excitement.  I prayed that she would attend the show preparations
the next day.

As I walked into the hall on the following Thursday, Seema was
nowhere to be found and I felt real disappointment.  Nevertheless, I
set to work back-stage with some gusto in a vain attempt to put her
out of my mind.  Suddenly, in she walked, breathless as if she had
been running.

She explained that she had had to do some library research after
lessons and had lost track of time.

Soon she was working hard alongside me, as we cut, glued and painted.
On one occasion, when I was helping with the construction of a
particularly tricky prop, I was so close to her, I could smell her
sweet perfume and was able to graze my arm against her luxuriant
hair.  While leaning over, I was also able to glimpse through a crack
in her blouse at the training bra covering her chest.  My elation at
her appearance was evident by the way that I found myself staring at
her when I should have been dealing with the props, and on a couple
of occasions, our eyes met for a few seconds.  Surely my feelings
were not being reciprocated?  After all, this was a mere 13 year old
girl.

Once again, the hour went so quickly -- I could have stayed in her
company for hours.  Reluctantly, I said my farewells and turned to
leave.  As I travelled down the corridor, I realised that it had
started raining heavily again and decided to pick up my overcoat from
the staff room.  On my return, I found Seema on her own, about to
brave the elements without coat nor umbrella.

Should I give her a lift home, I wondered?  I considered my options
-- on the one hand, was it really appropriate for a teacher to escort
a child in this way?  on the other hand, what was the harm?  I was
only saving her from getting drenched after all.  I braved it and my
offer was accepted with no evident reluctance.  I covered our heads
with my coat and we ran to my car -- a battered Ford Escort that had
seen rather better days.  As my vehicle pulled out of the car park, I
prayed that no one had seen us leave.

Seema's house was in a quiet, tree-lined street just five minutes
drive from the school.  During the journey, hardly a word was
uttered, although I admit to having stolen several amorous glances at
the gorgeous creature seated next to me.  Once again, she was in
school uniform but seated, her skirt had hitched up, exposing six
inches or so of smooth brown thigh.  Oh, to be able to stroke and
caress that skin, I thought!

I parked the car in a dark spot around the corner from her home and
turned off the engine.  The silence was deafening, but was suddenly
broken by Seema leaning across and kissing me softly on my right
cheek.  Before I had a chance to react, she said thank you for the
ride and ran towards her home.  I sat for some time in a state of
contemplation before setting off home.

That night, my thoughts as ever were on Seema, and for the first
time, my nocturnal emissions were given manual stimulation as I
imagined her there on my bed with me.

The next few weeks followed the same routine.  During the day, I
would see her around the school from time to time.  In fact, I was so
desperate to do so, I would even find out which classrooms she was in
and wait outside on the off-chance we would meet.  On those
occasions, we exchanged knowing smiles.  (I don't think anyone
suspected anything.) Then on Thursdays, we would meet up for show
preparations and afterwards, I would give her a lift back home.
Although all our actions (if not thoughts!) were completely innocent,
I felt slightly apprehensive about our 'relationship' -- the fear of
what others may think.  Little did I know that all pretences of
innocence were soon to be lost for ever.

It was the day of the show (13 December -- a date I'll never forget)
when it all happened.  I arrived at the hall at just past six o'clock
to make final preparations back-stage.  The show was due to commence
at seven, concluding with a concert performance by the school's brass
band.

Seema arrived 20 minutes later and my heart missed several beats when
I saw her appearance.  Instead of the uniform, she had come attired
in a traditional Indian sari -- a swathe of pink silk which wrapped
around her lithe body.  On her feet were matching fabric sandals and
she wore small rings in her ears.  Unlike times I had seen her
previously, her luscious hair was not tied back but instead left to
cover her shoulders and back like a glistening robe.  Overall, she
looked magnificent.

Once preparations had been completed, there was little else that we
could do, especially once the play had started.  Consequently, Seema
and I sat together -- alone -- in the wings watching proceedings.  As
ever, I took frequent peeks of her and to my surprise, I found that
these were being reciprocated.

Suddenly, she took my hand, stood up and indicated that we go
back-stage.  Although slightly confused, I was intrigued to discover
what she had planned.  She led me down a staircase which led to a
store room at basement level, containing a miscellany of furniture,
stationery and other material.  My heart thumped almost audibly as
she sat me down on an old arm-chair, perched on my knee and kissed me
on the lips.  My shock at this turn of events was swiftly overcome by
my desire for the little vixen in front of me.  We kissed again, at
first gently -- a mere touching of the lips -- for this was a new
experience for both of us (albeit in different ways), but soon
passionately.  I had never kissed a mouth so small, but it was
perfectly formed and before long I was exploring every corner with my
tongue, as was hers mine.

While still sitting on my knee, I held her body with my arms, putting
my fingers through her shiny, smooth hair.  I pulled her closer to me
so that her bottom rested on my lap, the weight causing my penis to
have a massive erection.  I was desperate to explore further the
exquisite creature before me and soon my hands were seeking a way
through the folds of silk to the treasures below.

Finally I found a way through and opened up the sari to reveal her
magnificent torso.  As with all other aspects, her skin was flawless
and I found myself drawn down to her belly button which I kissed and
licked to her obvious pleasure.  I then proceeded upwards to her tiny
training bra, which I removed in seconds to reveal tiny breasts --
gentle mounds swelling from her chest with enlarged nipples in the
center of each.  There was no way that I could prevent myself from
taking each one in turn into my mouth -- each sucked and caressed
with the tip of my tongue causing the nipples to harden and her sighs
of contentment to become more enduring.

I progressed around her body -- stroking her slim, well toned legs
which I had admired in the car and caressing her dainty feet (each
with toe nails painted to match her sari) before edging slowly up to
her crotch.

And what a sight it was!  Utterly devoid of pubic hair, her labia and
cunt hole were totally exposed and waiting to be tended.  I had never
previously been tempted to perform cunnilingus, but this presented a
perfect opportunity too good to miss.  Seema sensed my intent and
without reluctance lay down on the chair and spread her legs wide,
spreading her sari over the top of both of us like a tent.  In the
resultant pink-tinged atmosphere, I moved myself tentatively until I
was millimeters away, absorbing the sweet aroma that emanated from
her genitalia.  Finally, I took the plunge and licked the outer folds
of her labia, eliciting gentle moans of pleasure which intensified as
I probed faster and deeper into her cunt.  Before long, my tongue
extended deep inside her hole, lubricated by the succulent juices
being produced, flicking ever faster until her whole body shuddered
as she experienced her orgasm.

I looked up at her face which was flushed with excitement at this new
experience, but when I stopped, she opened her eyes and urged me to
continue, which I did with pleasure.  I moved my attention to seeking
her clitoris which after some searching, I found deep in her folds.
A little stimulation with my tongue caused it to enlarge and become
more accessible, sufficient for my lips to latch on.  By now, Seema
was once again in a state of extreme agitation and seemed desperate
for further satisfaction.  My lips gripped onto her now hard little
clit and gently squeezed and caressed, while I used the tip of my
tongue to heighten the feeling.  This proved too much for her to
contain and once again her body shivered as she came.

A loud round of applause from the stage above our heads roused us
from our passion and we quickly dressed and returned to the wings
just in time for no one to notice our absence.  Throughout the thirty
minute interval, I tried to concentrate on the work I needed to do to
get the stage organised correctly for the latter part of the night's
entertainment, but my thoughts were on one thing only -- what would
the second half have in store for me?

Finally, all the changes were completed and once again we settled
down for the performance.  However, before long history was repeating
itself and the mischievous look in Seema's eyes made it clear what
she wanted.  I had never felt so desired in my life.  Within five
minutes, we were back down in the store room, locked in a passionate
embrace.  Without any encouragement, her hands undid my shirt buttons
and stroked the hair on my chest before moving down first to my belly
and then my waist.  I then sensed the buckle of my belt being undone,
heard the zipper being slid down and finally felt my trousers
dropping to the floor.  The anticipation was almost too much for my
dick which almost burst from my underpants.  Already a wet stain of
precum had spread across their front, caused by the excitement my
organ had received thus far.  Finally, the pressure was relieved as
the pants themselves were lowered.

It was evident from the expression on her face that Seema had never
seen a man's private parts, certainly close up, but she soon
indicated her eagerness to learn!  The first gentle touches of her
dainty fingers caused a still greater hard-on, exaggerated when her
lips licked its smooth circumcised head and took the oily precum into
her mouth.  I thought it only a matter of time before I was given
fellatio, but Seema had other ideas, more exciting still!

Suddenly, she pushed me gently back onto the arm-chair and beckoned
me to watch as she slowly and deliberately unwrapped her sari.  As
the final stretch of silk touched the ground, there she stood,
absolutely naked in front of me -- a vision of sheer feminine beauty,
a young girl, yet an object of extreme sexual desire.

Before I could elaborate further upon such thoughts, she had climbed
upon my lap once more, but this time with her back to me.  Her legs
spread apart as she straddled my hips, causing her cunt hole to open.
I placed my hands on her demure buttocks in order to support some of
her weight as she took my prick into her hands and carefully lowered
herself onto its tip.  Despite its rigidity and the presence of
copious amounts of precum, at first there was minimal give and I
wondered whether her hole was in fact large enough to take an adult
cock.

However, my fears proved to be groundless as her cunt juices flowed
to provide the necessary lubrication, and slowly but surely my member
slipped deeper and deeper before almost all was obscured from view.
Luckily, my dick was not too large and its end was able to touch the
back wall of Seema's vagina while her backside rested on my thighs.
For perhaps 30 seconds, we remained in that position, panting with
the excitement, but wary of moving too quickly in order to savor
these precious moments.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her body swayed to either side and back
and forth, eliciting groans of pleasure from us both.  By now, I was
able to sit up in the chair and wrap my arms about her tiny body,
using one hand to caress her nipples and the other to stimulate her
clit.  On occasions, she tipped her head back, causing her dark hair
to spread down her smooth back like a mane, tickling my chest and
almost making me swoon with ecstasy.  It was a struggle to control my
urge to cum at any moment, but Seema appeared to sense my intent and
slowed her movements to compensate.  After all, she too wanted this
experience to last as long as possible.

In my sitting posture, I found myself kissing the nape of her neck by
moving her hair over my head, kissing her so passionately that I was
sure that I would leave marks on that tender skin.  I paid close
attention to the dark fuzzy hair behind her ears, a feature of Asian
females I found particularly stimulating -- at last, I was able to
act on my desires.

>From the stage above, the orchestra started to play the fourth
movement of Beethoven's Choral Symphony and this encouraged Seema and
I to indulge in our own Ode to Joy!  At this point, she turned her
head to face me, the coquettish look on her delicate features
indicating that she wanted the action to raise onto a still higher
plane.  Slowly, she rotated her whole body by 180 degrees, my prick
still lodged in her hole but lubricated by our mutual fluids, so that
she faced me full on.  I leaned back onto the arm chair while she
tilted backwards, supporting herself on her arms behind her.  In this
position, I was now able to see the full extent of her beauty -- her
pert breasts thrusting upwards, her slender body showing the first
signs of maturity, her firm thighs astride my legs.  I even had a
clear view of my penis extending deep into her cunt hole, with her
tiny clit visible above.

With her eyes closed and hair draped down onto my shins, Seema
started to grind her hips ever so slightly, the motion sending
incredible sensations around my body.  Faster and faster, she moved
her lower torso and before long, I could not resist further and
joined the movements, coordinating mine with hers.  Within seconds,
we were writhing around, swaying rhythmically, caressing each others
genitalia.  As the music from above reached its crescendo, I realised
that I was unable to contain myself any longer and we too attained
our climax.  As I thrusted my hips upwards and my penis still deeper,
the reflex to cum overcame me and from deep inside my groin, I sensed
my spunk shoot up my cock and into her cunt, filling every tiny area
and spilling out over my legs.  The pure ecstasy was shared by Seema
as our mutual orgasm caused us to cry out in unison.  Applause from
the audience in the hall rang out and though it must have masked our
sounds, at that moment I could not have cared who had heard us, such
was the emotion of the occasion and my lust for the demure creature
with whom I had just made passionate love.

Seema collapsed on top of me, totally spent, her mass of dark hair
spread across my chest and face.  For maybe thirty seconds, we lay
there, recovering our breath and contemplating what we had done.
Suddenly, rational thought prevailed and we realised that our absence
would be missed.  Seema raised up her body and as my still erect dick
slid out, so did the remainder of my creamy spunk, pooling on my
belly.  Quickly, we cleaned up, dressed as best we could and returned
the room to its original condition.  Returning to stage level, we
once again got back just in time to be beckoned onto the stage for
acknowledgement of our efforts.  As Seema and I edged embarrassed in
front of the crowd, I prayed that no one would notice our sweaty and
slightly dishevelled appearance -- if only they had known what had
caused it!  They might even had asked for an encore!

The next day, I travelled into work with some trepidation -- would
anyone say anything about the night before?  how would I react when I
saw Seema back in her school garb?  Thankfully, my concerns about the
former proved unwarranted but I had no chance to test the latter as
Seema was not present.  Worried, I casually enquired about her
whereabouts, her form teacher informing me that she had called in
sick.  It was the following day that I discovered why.  An envelope
bearing her handwriting was waiting for me when I came downstairs in
the morning.  With some trepidation, I read the contents.  In a shaky
script, they revealed that her family had decided to return to India,
concerned about the influences of Western culture, and therefore she
would not be going to school any longer.  She thanked me for our
relationship, stating that I was the only person who had expressed
true friendship towards her in this country.  Of our evening of
passion, she expressed no regrets and indeed stressed the emotional
and sexual emancipation it had brought.  The note ended with a
statement of love and the fact that she would never forget our
experiences together.

I sat down in my hallway in a state of shock -- an emotion that
stayed with me for several weeks.  How could I be losing Seema only
just after having experienced the emotional highlight of my life with
her?  Time, as they say, heals wounds and I eventually came to
realise that her departure was probably for the best.  At some point,
our liaison would have been discovered and I exposed as a pervert.
Now, five years on, I have married, to an Indian woman of course
(having got the taste, I could not let go) and have a happy life.
Even so, there are still occasions when I'm making love to my wife
that my mind wanders and in the dark, my thoughts turn back to that
cold December evening and I find that it's Seema once again who's the
subject of my true desires...