Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Nikolai, aka Nakul Bhai, aka Ramsaran is having a difficult time processing what he is seeing. 

This woman is all that he has always looked for in a woman. She is curvaceous, with big tits and a large bottom, but not the fat belly that usually accompanies such assets. For assets is the right word for what they are, without any question. 


His phone pinged only moments after he woke up, and since then he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off the videos that are bombarding his inbox ever since. 
Nakul Bhai scrolls through the videos slowly, stopping occasionally to pause, zoom and look at this thing or the other. 

The video quality is abysmal, poor lighting and pixelated images. But no matter. This woman is an enthusiastic slut, and she’s doing it all for the love of sex, not even getting paid for any of this. 

And it looks like she doesn’t even care that she’s being filmed as she looks brazenly into the camera and licks her lips and says, “I need one more cock…in my mouth!” 

Her voice is soft and low and sensuous, and Nakul Bhai thinks she could be a great porn actress. Possibly even better and more famous than the Middle Eastern bitch, Mia Khalifa, or the other Indian girl from Canada whose name escapes him for the moment. 

He zooms in on her pussy and sees to his delight that her outer lips are nice and plump and pink while the inner lips just barely peek out, a darker shade of red. Exactly as he’d thought based on the original low res pics, but he is sure now. He has a thing about the inner lips. They shouldn’t hang out too much, or it looks obscene. 

If there is irony in that thought, he being in the business and all, it doesn’t bother him.

Swati is bent oven and getting her ass reamed out by the big lout, Prakash. He is holding her by the hips and giving it to her good. 

“I need a cock in my mouth too, Malik!” Swati screams into his earbuds and instantly Nakul Bhai’s cock goes from semi soft to full attention. 

Nakul Bhai’s cock is steel hard, something that doesn’t happen regularly despite the ministrations of his flock of whores, but today he delights in it. 

He doesn’t bother to call out to one of the prostitutes that usually staff his house on a regular basis. He knows that any other bitch will only be a downer. 

He grabs the bottle of lotion on the side table, and a wad of tissues. 

Nakul Bhai lowers his pajama and beats off to the images on the phone. 

He feels the ridges and bumps on his cock as he teases himself to full hardness. Or rather, as Swati teases him to his full girth. Which is considerable. Some of his bitches have compared him to a soda can or a beer bottle. 

He hasn’t measured, but then he’d had his dick enhanced with as many as twenty silicone beads. Granted it makes his dick look grotesque, but there are benefits too. 

The guy that did it was professional and very good. Even though he hadn’t been able to have sex for a few weeks after, the procedure had been worth it. His bitches tell him that he is even larger than before, and with the pearling, way more effective at giving them orgasms. 

Apparently, some of the beads stimulate their G-spots, not that he knows what that is or cares. 

And, even though he didn’t believe it at first, the pleasure the beads give him are also better than before. So, it’s been a win-win for him and the bitches.

He looks at the video on his phone and slowly beats off into the wad of tissues. 

Woo-hoo, he thinks, beating off like a teenager first thing in the morning! And that too when he had free pussy available on tap. A variety of pussy if he wanted, and maybe even more than one if he so desired. 

But now, he was jerking off instead of calling for one of his whores. This woman had just that kind of effect on him.

When he is done, he rings for his morning chai. A man servant arrives with a tray on which there is a pot of tea, a small carafe of milk, container of sugar and a plate of Marie biscuits. 

The man pours a cup, adds the requisite amount of sugar, stirs, and with a small bow, leaves his master.

Nakul Bhai sips his tea and thinks hard. He thinks he should reconsider his offer to Alexei.

What if he kept the woman for himself. Suddenly he wishes he hadn’t sent her pictures to Alexei. 

There is no way he can undo that. Aleksei has seen the images for sure, and if he knows anything about the crazy Russian bastard, he is already licking his chops and making plans for her. 

Damn! Damn! Damn! 

A sudden fury takes hold of him, and he flings the bone china cup at the wall with force, where it shatters into a million pieces. There is a large splatter of brown tea on the white wall. No matter. The manservant will clean it later.

His phone dings again. More video.

He looks up with interest. 

There is something different about these clips. They seem better even though the cameras, presumably phone cameras, are the same. The lighting, the angles, seem better. He can see it is unedited footage, but even then, there is a definite quality improvement. 

He opens the text app and informs Prakash that the videos are good. Furthermore, he needs to see the whore herself as soon as they can arrange it. 

The one thing he doesn’t do is send any of the videos to Alexei. 

Nakul Bhai is starting to make a plan for Alexei, a plan that will not only net him this new whore, but perhaps much more. 

After all, he knows quite a bit about Alexei’s operation, and they share a number of middlemen. 

He calls a friend, a good friend who he only calls occasionally, but this is a friend who knows certain people who are good at making other people disappear.