09-01-2023, 12:29 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-01-2023, 03:29 AM by KissMyFeet. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Part 2: Brian and Swastika Meet
I arrived in Atlanta on senior ditch day, an unofficial high school tradition which always took place the Friday before finals week. Swastika's parents were completely unaware that such as tradition existed, as far as they knew, their precious little daughter was at school prepping for her exams. Pretty much all the public servants in Atlanta knew about this tradition, and as long as you weren't doing anything illegal, the local authorities and business owners would look the other way. Prom was out of the question, as Swastika's strict parents would never let her go even if someone asked her, and the senior trips always had too many chaperones. This was the only window Swastika and I had to meet. The plan was for one of Swastika's close friends to take her from school after her mother dropped her off, then bring her back before her father picks her up. Her parents would never know she left school, but we would only have about a 5 hour window together, so we had to make it count. Needless to say, my nerves were running high.
We decided to meet each other at the city's largest ***** temple. It was a place Swastika knew very well, and it was just a short distance from the airport. Plus, it was only fitting that I would meet an Indian girl at an Indian temple. As if by some bizarre act of telepathy, we arrived at exactly the same time.
She was the cutest, most delicate little thing I'd ever seen. 5'4" with light caramel skin, thick eyebrows, large almond shaped eyes, pink lips, a pierced nostril and straight long hair that covered half her butt cheeks. As was common practice in Desi girls, the nails on her left hand were long and well- manicured, while the ones on her right hand were cut short. She was dressed in a traditional red and green saree that covered her more important features, and on her feet was a gold anklet, and a pair of silver flats. She looked even more stunning in real life, and for a moment I had completely forgotten that beneath all that was also a girl who struggled with mental health issues.
As we spoke and caressed each other for the first time, I suddenly felt an exciting sensation, both in my stomach and the area below it. It was a combination of excitement and arousal, and I'm pretty sure she was experiencing the same. I couldn't help but plant a kiss on her soft gentle hand. The sensation that soared through our bodies at that moment was unlike anything we'd ever experienced. This is what we'd both been waiting for, for so long. And within a matter of seconds, we finally discovered what it feels like to hold someone's hand for the first time. We wanted to to hold each other forever, but were quickly reminded that the grounds of a ***** temple, were no place to express such emotions. They would have to wait.
Our date began with a visit to the temple. I must say, that bringing a man with a foot fetish to a holy place that requires one to enter barefoot, probably wasn't the best idea. I barely remember the ornate columns or statues of ***** deities, as most of my attention was focused on Swastika's cute little Desi feet. In her defense, she had no way of knowing. Although I had tried to hint at it before, it was never able to fully get through to her. But if she didn't know about it before, she sure as hell knew about it now. I felt somewhat blasphemous as I found my arousal becoming increasingly difficult to control. I felt even more embarrassed when Swastika, in a rather creeped out tone, called me out for looking at her feet. I tried my best to enjoy my first ***** temple, and be less obvious, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Our visit to the temple concluded with a ritual water cleansing, something that we both probably needed, especially me.
![[Image: 3e24f68088847a0f6ec306aee191c9c3.jpg]](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3e/24/f6/3e24f68088847a0f6ec306aee191c9c3.jpg)
After our visit to the temple, it was only fitting that our next stop was a traditional Indian restaurant. Despite the tolerant multicultural vibe of Atlanta, it was pretty clear by the glances we were receiving from the other patrons, that a White man and a traditional Indian girl having breakfast together, was not the norm around these parts. And needless to say, our 12 year age gap wasn't helping the situation. Thankfully, by the time our meal arrived, the restaurant had largely cleared out.
As we talked and enjoyed each other's company over a traditional serving of kochuris, luchis and curry, I suddenly felt Swastika's foot slip out of her flat and the tips of her slightly long unpainted toenails digging into my hairy leg. The sensual massage casually continued throughout the course of our meal, and the sudden rush of "excitement" and adrenaline, wasn't doing my stomach or appetite any good. Eventually, my date put her excited little feet back on the floor, and I was able to finish the rest of my meal. My "excitement" quickly returned however, when my exotic young date asked me to lick her fingers clean and do the same to me. My heart skipped a beat, and at this point, my semi hard cock was dripping wet and starting to stick to my boxers. I knew the moment she crossed her legs and curled her cute little toes, that Swastika's young virgin pussy was doing the same. We knew we couldn't wait any longer. We washed up, paid the bill and caught the bus to the airport hotel, where the real fun was about to begin.
End of Part 2
Stay tuned, 'cuz things are about to get steamy
I arrived in Atlanta on senior ditch day, an unofficial high school tradition which always took place the Friday before finals week. Swastika's parents were completely unaware that such as tradition existed, as far as they knew, their precious little daughter was at school prepping for her exams. Pretty much all the public servants in Atlanta knew about this tradition, and as long as you weren't doing anything illegal, the local authorities and business owners would look the other way. Prom was out of the question, as Swastika's strict parents would never let her go even if someone asked her, and the senior trips always had too many chaperones. This was the only window Swastika and I had to meet. The plan was for one of Swastika's close friends to take her from school after her mother dropped her off, then bring her back before her father picks her up. Her parents would never know she left school, but we would only have about a 5 hour window together, so we had to make it count. Needless to say, my nerves were running high.
We decided to meet each other at the city's largest ***** temple. It was a place Swastika knew very well, and it was just a short distance from the airport. Plus, it was only fitting that I would meet an Indian girl at an Indian temple. As if by some bizarre act of telepathy, we arrived at exactly the same time.
She was the cutest, most delicate little thing I'd ever seen. 5'4" with light caramel skin, thick eyebrows, large almond shaped eyes, pink lips, a pierced nostril and straight long hair that covered half her butt cheeks. As was common practice in Desi girls, the nails on her left hand were long and well- manicured, while the ones on her right hand were cut short. She was dressed in a traditional red and green saree that covered her more important features, and on her feet was a gold anklet, and a pair of silver flats. She looked even more stunning in real life, and for a moment I had completely forgotten that beneath all that was also a girl who struggled with mental health issues.
As we spoke and caressed each other for the first time, I suddenly felt an exciting sensation, both in my stomach and the area below it. It was a combination of excitement and arousal, and I'm pretty sure she was experiencing the same. I couldn't help but plant a kiss on her soft gentle hand. The sensation that soared through our bodies at that moment was unlike anything we'd ever experienced. This is what we'd both been waiting for, for so long. And within a matter of seconds, we finally discovered what it feels like to hold someone's hand for the first time. We wanted to to hold each other forever, but were quickly reminded that the grounds of a ***** temple, were no place to express such emotions. They would have to wait.
Our date began with a visit to the temple. I must say, that bringing a man with a foot fetish to a holy place that requires one to enter barefoot, probably wasn't the best idea. I barely remember the ornate columns or statues of ***** deities, as most of my attention was focused on Swastika's cute little Desi feet. In her defense, she had no way of knowing. Although I had tried to hint at it before, it was never able to fully get through to her. But if she didn't know about it before, she sure as hell knew about it now. I felt somewhat blasphemous as I found my arousal becoming increasingly difficult to control. I felt even more embarrassed when Swastika, in a rather creeped out tone, called me out for looking at her feet. I tried my best to enjoy my first ***** temple, and be less obvious, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Our visit to the temple concluded with a ritual water cleansing, something that we both probably needed, especially me.
After our visit to the temple, it was only fitting that our next stop was a traditional Indian restaurant. Despite the tolerant multicultural vibe of Atlanta, it was pretty clear by the glances we were receiving from the other patrons, that a White man and a traditional Indian girl having breakfast together, was not the norm around these parts. And needless to say, our 12 year age gap wasn't helping the situation. Thankfully, by the time our meal arrived, the restaurant had largely cleared out.
As we talked and enjoyed each other's company over a traditional serving of kochuris, luchis and curry, I suddenly felt Swastika's foot slip out of her flat and the tips of her slightly long unpainted toenails digging into my hairy leg. The sensual massage casually continued throughout the course of our meal, and the sudden rush of "excitement" and adrenaline, wasn't doing my stomach or appetite any good. Eventually, my date put her excited little feet back on the floor, and I was able to finish the rest of my meal. My "excitement" quickly returned however, when my exotic young date asked me to lick her fingers clean and do the same to me. My heart skipped a beat, and at this point, my semi hard cock was dripping wet and starting to stick to my boxers. I knew the moment she crossed her legs and curled her cute little toes, that Swastika's young virgin pussy was doing the same. We knew we couldn't wait any longer. We washed up, paid the bill and caught the bus to the airport hotel, where the real fun was about to begin.
End of Part 2
Stay tuned, 'cuz things are about to get steamy
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