Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Arvind regards the magnificent walled compound and the guarded gate from his mirrored safe place in the drivers seat. 

The uniformed sentry gives him the dead eye despite the fact he has driven up in a swanky car. The Mercedes usually shines enough in anyone’s eyes that they never question his credentials, but this guard seems to be made of sterner stuff. Perhaps he needs a chauffeur to impress this guy.


Slowly, he gets out and lights a cigarette, blowing the smoke out in soft puffs, signaling calm. 

The guard seems to soften as well. It is a few days after the new year, and even though he had vowed to stop smoking, that resolution only lasted a couple of days. He has since crept back to his previous pack-a-day habit.

His father is still in the ICU, and now his mother too is starting to show signs of the same disease. She is still at home, but Arvind thinks from the way she coughs, she too is probably headed to the ICU. It seems to him it is only a matter of days. 

The doctors believe it is some kind of virus out of China, although there is no confirmation, nor any definite treatment beyond the basic supportive treatment. 

Ashok has been spending a lot of time at the hospital, having taken a long period of time off from his work. 

Swati too, shows up from time to time, and everyone is worried.

Arvind walks up to the gate and says, “Nikolai Saab?”

The guard stares at him for a minute before he pulls out a ledger. 

“You have appointment?”

“Yes, I called him a few days ago.” 

Arvind had called a friend in Delhi, a Punjabi guy he knew that was openly fucking his sister-in-law, and sometimes pimping her ass out as well for the connect, and had been richly rewarded. 

The man, Baldev, had not given him the phone number for Nikolai, but instead had called and made the appointment for him. Arvind knew that people in this line of business didn’t openly give out visiting cards and usually kept their phone numbers secret.

The driveway is L-shaped and the main door out of sight of the main gate. 

When he rings the doorbell, he has a longish wait. He stands on the highest step and drums his fingers on the stair rail.

 A fully naked, magnificent specimen of womanhood opens the door. 

His breath catches as he takes her in. 

She is tall, about five feet ten, maybe more, in her red heels, which is the only thing she has on. She has a fantastic figure. Her breasts are high and large, standing proud of her chest like a teenagers’, marred only by the plastic surgeon’s scar at the bottom of each boob. 

“Mr Arvind?” 

He nods, not trusting his voice. It isn’t everyday that he is greeted by a gorgeous naked woman at the door. 

Her face cannot be called beautiful, plain in fact, bordering on mannish, but she is definitely striking. Her  features are broad and prominent, and even though she is made up, he can see she has had fillers in her lips and cheeks. 

He isn’t sure where to look, alternately looking at her face and then away, but her body pulls his eyes back, and he notes in quick fleeting glimpses that she has no scars other than those under her breasts, her cunt is clean shaven, and that she has very little fat on her body, there being the hint of a six pack on her flat belly. 

Her whole body has a sheen as though she has been oiled. He attempts a nonchalance as though being greeted by naked women is all in a days work for him. 

“Follow me please,” she says and turns. 

Her manner is neutral, neither arrogant, nor deferential. 

She is completely unselfconscious that she is stark naked and he is fully clothed. It is a good thing the house is heated he thinks, as he follows.

Her ass cheeks dimple with each step, and her hips swing from side to side in the most enticing manner as he follows her into the large house. 

The house is somewhat darker than the outside, and he can catch quick glimpses of her pussy lips winking in and out from between her ass cheeks, as she takes each step. 

She finally stops at a larger wooden door that stands partially open but Arvind has been so busy focusing on her ass that he almost bumps into her. He has to hang on to the door jamb to keep his balance and when she turns, he can see the ghost of a smile on her face. 

She steps aside and Arvind can see a white man sitting on an overstuffed wing-back chair, his face in shadow. 

The man is large, and the wings of the chair that would have dwarfed a lesser man seem to sprout from his shoulders, giving him a vaguely Darth Vader like look. 

The man has a beard that is between blonde and brown and so is the hair on his head which are heavily gelled and combed to stand up in front. 

His features are neutral, almost Indian, Arvind thinks, except that the man is clearly white. Perhaps some mixed blood in his genealogy?

He looks powerful, something in the breadth of his shoulders, the depth of his chest. Even though the man is sitting down, Arvind thinks he is probably close to six feet tall, perhaps more. Muscular, but going to fat. Probably eighty, ninety kilos in weight.

The most striking thing about the man though, is that his trousers are around his ankles together with his underwear, a checked pair of boxers, and Arvind can see his erect cock bobbing slightly with each heartbeat. 

It is a fantastic specimen, this cock, simultaneously the most fascinating and ugly member he has ever seen. The color of it is pale, paler than the rest of him, like a mushroom, and the cock is very large, but the interesting thing is that it is knobby, like a sitaphal, except that it is longer like a mooli, rather than spherical. Also, he is completely clean shaven there. 

Arvind tears his eyes away lest the other man catch him looking. He is no homo, and he wouldn’t be caught dead examining another man’s penis. 

He looks around at the stark white walls, the large dark stain on the wall as though someone had spilt tea or something. 

There is almost no furniture in the large room. Nikolai is probably a minimalist, but not when it comes to women. 

The woman goes to Nikolai, kneels between his legs and starts sucking his dick as though she had just been interrupted in a chore and now has to get bak to it. 

The man pays her no mind other than to grunt his pleasure.

“Arvind?” There is no hint of any foreign accent, and Arvind thinks this man must have spent a lot of time in India to lose his accent.

Arvind nods. He steps into the room and closer to the man. He thinks twice aabout extending his hand, but seeing that Nikolai has seemingly no inteest, thinks better of it.

There is an empty chair, similar to the one the man is sitting in, and Arvind sinks into it. 

“Nikolai?”

“Yes, yes, I am Nikolai,” he says. 

Then, in Hindi, he says, “What can I do for you.” 

Now there is an accent, but Arvind, for all his sophistication cannot think where the accent is from. Certainly not Russian because he knows how Alexei speaks. This man’s accent feels like it is put on. A make believe accent that might pass for any generic white man mangling Hindi.

“I have a proposition for you,” Arvind says. He pulls his phone out and brings up the picture and holds it out to him. The girl continues to suck away at the monstrous cock and he tries to ignore it. 

Nikolai seems not at all put off by the situation. He appears to consider it normal and acceptable. 

It could be that Nikolai believes this is some kind of power play, and Arvind feels the faint twinge of resentment. He cannot imagine the arrogance it would take to do this kind of thing.

The man has money, power, and naked women to service him even when there are visitors. 

The woman makes loud slurping sounds and when Arvind glances at her, he can see a long string of saliva trickle from her mouth to the mosaic floor.

Nikolai takes the phone and for a second Arvind thinks there is a reaction. Surprise, he thinks, but the man’s features quickly go back to a careful neutrality.

Nikolai clears his throat. “What about her?” He puts a hand on the girl’s head, forcing himself deeper into her throat. 

“Gluk, gluk, gluk…ggggkkkkk.”

He lets up the pressure and the girl pulls her mouth off him and takes a couple of greedy breaths. Her lipstick is gone now and her mascara is running. 

Then she goes back to sucking, now using both hands to masturbate him as well. Her hands are small, and she needs both hands to engulf the girth in addition to the portion in her mouth.

Arvind pulls his eyes away with some effort and concentrates on Nikolai’s face. 

“I believe you have a deal with Alexei about this one.”

“Maybe,” Nikolai allows. “But what is that to you? You don’t know her, do you?”

For a moment, Arvind is nonplussed. Does this man know the truth? That the woman is his sister-in-law? That he has a personal and nefarious motive for this little piece of business? 

If Nikolai knows, and he lies, he could be in trouble. But then, the chances he knows would be slim. Or would it? He decides to roll the dice.

Arvind takes a big breath, thinking, here we go. The moment of truth. “No, nothing like that. I want to have a day or two with her before…before, you know, she goes away.”

Nikolai doesn’t even blink. “I see. And what are you willing to pay for the privilege?”

Arvind names a number, and Nikolai doesn’t say anything. He closes his eyes and moans, enjoying his blowjob. He caresses the woman’s head with one hand, affectionally like one might pet a dog. 

The woman redoubles her effort.

Arvind names a second number, then a third.

Finally Nikolai opens his eyes and says, “That sounds fine, but why don’t you take her from Alexei directly? You are his friend, business partner, no?”

Arvind knows, and Nikolai knows and they both know that the other know the reason, and Arvind just shrugs and says nothing.

“You’re getting her, right?”

“Maybe,” Nikolai concedes. “I will let you know. It maybe a month or two.”

Arvind nods and starts to rise.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Nikolai says, “How rude of me.” He points at the girl between his legs, and looks up at Arvind. “You can fuck her if you want. She is very talented with her vaginal muscles.”

Arvind feels torn. It would be great to fuck this woman, she is so perfect. But then, this is business, not pleasure. 

“Thanks, but I have to go.” And before he can change his mind, he turns and walks back to the main door. 

As reaches the door, he hears Nikolai say, “Alright, now get up and sit on it.”

There is a sensuous moan, presumably the woman as she settles herself on his cock, but by the time he has reached the door and let himself out.

Arvind reaches his car and lights another cigarette as he unlocks the door. 

He wonders at the man he just met and ponders the strange accented Hindi he spoke. 

It sounded almost like a parody of a foreigner in the movies. Weird. 

He takes a puff, opens the door to his car and is suddenly doubled over with a coughing fit. 

He desperately blows out the smoke he has inhaled, looks at the cigarette he is holding as though for clues. He throws the cigarette away and coughs over and over, his hands on his knees. When the coughing subsides, he tries to catch his breath. He feels breathless, a little dizzy. 

He spits the saliva that has collected in his mouth all of a sudden and finds it frothy and pink. 

Must be the pan masala he had earlier, he thinks.

He should go home, pour himself a stiff one and relax. 

Watch a movie maybe. Even though it is only mid afternoon.