09-01-2019, 02:11 PM
VijayaLakshmi- A Legion of Sex Ch. 05
THE HANDSOME YOUNG servant gasped softly in deep pleasure. He stood naked on the cool stone floor, his feet spread apart, his hands gripping the head of the nineteen-year old girl who knelt before him. Her pretty face was distended with the size of his swollen penis. He grunted and pulled her face deeper into his crotch, pushing his hips forward at the same time. She took his cock deep in her mouth, her hands clenching his buttocks, sucking hungrily. He groaned again, arching his head, his eyes fluttering. Her mouth was wonderful, warm and moist and her tongue was like an electric eel, a thing alive, magical and irresistible.
"Yes!" he groaned. "C'mon ... do it! Suck my cock, bitch! Suck it! *Choos*, *rundi*! *Jorse* *choos*! *Choos* *mere* *lavde* *ko* ... *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* uhhh *aise* ... *chul*, *rundi*... *jorse* ... harder, slut ... suck harder!"
She whimpered in excitement at his coarse, sexy words and took his cock deeper still in her mouth, sucking feverishly. The servant grinned to himself. He could hardly believe his luck. Here he was, a mere servant, fucking the daughter of the household -- and she was his whore, *his* whore, his to fuck and fuck and fuck as and when he fancied her. He was the first man to fuck her, a few months ago and, so far as he knew, still the only one. He never ceased to marvel at how much she had learned and how quickly.
Her name was Vijayalashmi also known as Vijay and she was bewitching. She was so lovely, so pretty, so sexy, slender and curved. He couldn't stop ogling her. She had a lovely oval face with a pointed chin, a slim, straight nose and slightly flared nostrils, small, cutely stuck-out ears. Her face was narrow so that, from some angles, it looked like her cheeks were plump, but even that was really cute. Her cheekbones were high. Her eyes were lovely, large, brown, full of magic. Her lips were light and full and her teeth were white and strong and even, the left incisor slightly chipped, an attractive irregularity.
Her skin was like gold, smooth and clear, firm as a gbang, without a trace of the body hair he so disliked in the women he fucked. Her hair was dark and tumbled about her shoulders or flounced in a sexy pony tail or was coiled up neatly high on the back of her head. Her neck was superb, an exceptionally long, slender, graceful column under her firm, pointed chin. Her arms and legs were nicely turned and slim, with attractive ankles and wrists and slim fingers and toes, beautifully shaped and arched. Her breasts jutted out, full and ripe and high, like succulent fruit. Her belly was firm and flat.
He had been with the family for some time now. It was a large, airy three bedroom flat in one of four buildings around a large courtyard in a crowded locality in Central Chennai. The family was essentially *****, but they had converted to Christianity some generations ago. It remained a peculiar mix of the two religions -- very ***** in dress and speech and even in some food habits, but they all went to church and spoke English and ate beef. It was a bit of a crowd, with ten people under one roof. He learned that Vijaya's parents died when she was little and the house was shared by Vijaya, her sister Sheila and their brother Harish, who had one bedroom, and her father's two brothers, their wives and her four male cousins. Kartik and Laxman were the sons of her elder uncle, Sravan, and his wife, Radha. Coomar, the younger uncle, and his wife Mariamma, had Jose and Pran. Her uncles were in their forties. The elder boys were about Vijaya's age, their brothers a year or two younger. Vijaya's sister and brother were much older than she, and Vijaya was brought up by her siblings.
With so many people sharing a limited space, there was constant tension and, frequently, there would be flare-ups and fights. The uncles tried to keep peace but there were times when they were forced to side with their wives, which only exacerbated matters. Being the youngest, and essentially dependent on the uncles, Vijaya and her siblings were often isolated and picked on. As he grew older, Vijaya's brother afforded some protection but, without complete financial independence, he wasn't always free to act and speak as he felt.
Vijaya grew up in this atmosphere, surrounded by elders, mostly men, with very little female influence or companionship of her own age. By the time she attained puberty, she was used to seeing the men move around the house bare-chested in their trousers or shorts or with towels or *lungi*s wrapped around their waists. She had a lively mind and a vivid imagination and these, combined with the increasingly explicit quality of public media, soon turned the menfolk in the family from playmates and relatives to objects of fantasized desire.
At eighteen, Vijaya discovered the pleasures of masturbation. Her body matured early and she found she could elicit piquant sensations by playing with her breasts and slit. She spent hours playing with herself, pinching her nipples and rubbing her slit till, finally, there came the exquisite rush of heat that left her flushed and breathless.
Vijaya was frequently alone at home. Her cousins were at work, her uncles and aunts and her brother and sister held day-long jobs. Vijaya pretty much had the run of the house for several hours each day. As her fascination with sex and lust grew, she used this time alone to indulge her fantasies. She moved around the house naked, enjoying the thrill of it, studying her body in every reflective surface. She caressed herself on the rough curtain materials or ribbed corduroy upholstery. She flipped through film magazines ogling the pictures of handsome film stars, studying the contours of their bodies or closed her eyes and imagined her cousins or uncles or the house servant, seeing the hardness of their torsos, the deep clefts in their chests, the strength in their arms and legs.
While her hankering for physical satisfaction grew sharper, Vijaya still didn't have an accurate idea of what sex involved. She stumbled on it one day when she was rummaging through Kartik's bureau. He was her eldest cousin and easily the sexiest with a hard, tall body and handsome features. Of late, she had begun to go through their clothes, especially their underwear. Kartik's jock-straps fascinated her and she tried to imagine what he looked like wearing them. She pressed them to her face, trying to get his smell from his clothes, rubbed the cloth in her naked crotch, moaning softly as she brought herself off. One day, poking around in his room, she found he had left his cupboard unlocked. She opened it and went through his things. Stuffed under a pile of clothes, she found a large brown paper packet. Curious, she pulled it out. It was unsealed, and thick and heavy. She put her hand in and what she found made her gasp.
It was a pornographic magazine and, beneath it, was a video cassette. Vijaya stared at the cover of the magazine. It showed a photograph of a beautiful white woman wearing black lacy lingerie, her crotch and breasts bare, and she had one finger between her lips and another in her slit and she was smiling wantonly at the camera. Vijaya moaned in excitement and turned the page.
It was her first exposure to the intricacies of actual copulation, and Vijaya was riveted. She knew from her biology lessons in college that men had penises and that procreation involved the insertion of a penis into the vagina -- but what it meant and looked like and what was possible beyond this clinical description she had no idea. The magazine showed her. It was a wonderfully glossy journal, published, she noticed, by a Chennai company called Oranadu, a division of something called Tallamani & Jaya Ltd. There were shots of women sucking cock, of men licking slit, of a man fucking a woman from behind, a close-up of his cock going into her cunt, another of him fucking her from top with yet another close-up, shots of one woman being fucked by two men, two women fucking one man, lesbian sex, women masturbating, an exquisitely realized photo spread across four pages of a gorgeous woman being fucked in the ass by a black stud with a stunning body and a penis of awesome dimensions.
Vijaya's imagination ran wild. She masturbated frantically looking at the pictures and, oddly, found herself wanting more even after her orgasm. She read the magazine again, this time going through the text and finding words like fuck and cunt and slit and dick and pussy and clit and prick and whore and slut and bitch. She flipped over on her back on Kartik's bed and his jock-strap flung across her breasts and, holding the magazine in one hand, fondled her slit with the other. She came again. And still she wanted more. She tried the video-cassette, using the TV and video player in Kartik's family's room.
If the magazine was an introduction, the pornographic movie was a full-fledged intensive course. The titles showed that it was made by a company called Vivid Productions, also owned by the same Chennai company whose name she had seen on the magazine.
It was a stunning movie, more mind-blowing than anything she had seen or dreamed of --and, as she was to find in later years, when she herself acted in several such movies for them, typical of the company's quality.
The sets were lush and rich, the photography imaginative and detailed, the plot fully realized and engrossing, and the sex was unbelievable.
Incessant, prolonged, innovative, never boring or repetitious, it was the most erotic thing Vijaya had ever seen. The story told of the sexual awakening of a young woman called Anjali. She was gorgeous, earthy and sensual and utterly erotic. Her first sexual encounter was with a servant and she progressed rapidly from there, taking more and more lovers.
Vijaya watched the film through, seeing Anjali masturbating, at first using everyday household objects – hard cucumbers, *bottle gourd* gourds, under-ripe bananas, hairbrushes and the handle of a clothes-paddle -- graduating to more exotic aids like dildos and ejaculator vibrators, then moving on to sex with the servants and later to boys in college.
She saw Anjali sucking cock, having her cunt licked, locked in a sixty-nine; Anjali taking a cock in her cunt, between her breasts, in her anus; Anjali fucking two and three men simultaneously and, in a glorious orgy, whoring with a whole crowd of servants. Anjali had an affair with her cousin, seducing one hot summer afternoon, and Anjali did a live sex dance on a beach. The film ended, promising a sequel, with Anjali on the brink of matrimony.
THE HANDSOME YOUNG servant gasped softly in deep pleasure. He stood naked on the cool stone floor, his feet spread apart, his hands gripping the head of the nineteen-year old girl who knelt before him. Her pretty face was distended with the size of his swollen penis. He grunted and pulled her face deeper into his crotch, pushing his hips forward at the same time. She took his cock deep in her mouth, her hands clenching his buttocks, sucking hungrily. He groaned again, arching his head, his eyes fluttering. Her mouth was wonderful, warm and moist and her tongue was like an electric eel, a thing alive, magical and irresistible.
"Yes!" he groaned. "C'mon ... do it! Suck my cock, bitch! Suck it! *Choos*, *rundi*! *Jorse* *choos*! *Choos* *mere* *lavde* *ko* ... *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* ... uhhh *hanh* uhhh *aise* ... *chul*, *rundi*... *jorse* ... harder, slut ... suck harder!"
She whimpered in excitement at his coarse, sexy words and took his cock deeper still in her mouth, sucking feverishly. The servant grinned to himself. He could hardly believe his luck. Here he was, a mere servant, fucking the daughter of the household -- and she was his whore, *his* whore, his to fuck and fuck and fuck as and when he fancied her. He was the first man to fuck her, a few months ago and, so far as he knew, still the only one. He never ceased to marvel at how much she had learned and how quickly.
Her name was Vijayalashmi also known as Vijay and she was bewitching. She was so lovely, so pretty, so sexy, slender and curved. He couldn't stop ogling her. She had a lovely oval face with a pointed chin, a slim, straight nose and slightly flared nostrils, small, cutely stuck-out ears. Her face was narrow so that, from some angles, it looked like her cheeks were plump, but even that was really cute. Her cheekbones were high. Her eyes were lovely, large, brown, full of magic. Her lips were light and full and her teeth were white and strong and even, the left incisor slightly chipped, an attractive irregularity.
Her skin was like gold, smooth and clear, firm as a gbang, without a trace of the body hair he so disliked in the women he fucked. Her hair was dark and tumbled about her shoulders or flounced in a sexy pony tail or was coiled up neatly high on the back of her head. Her neck was superb, an exceptionally long, slender, graceful column under her firm, pointed chin. Her arms and legs were nicely turned and slim, with attractive ankles and wrists and slim fingers and toes, beautifully shaped and arched. Her breasts jutted out, full and ripe and high, like succulent fruit. Her belly was firm and flat.
He had been with the family for some time now. It was a large, airy three bedroom flat in one of four buildings around a large courtyard in a crowded locality in Central Chennai. The family was essentially *****, but they had converted to Christianity some generations ago. It remained a peculiar mix of the two religions -- very ***** in dress and speech and even in some food habits, but they all went to church and spoke English and ate beef. It was a bit of a crowd, with ten people under one roof. He learned that Vijaya's parents died when she was little and the house was shared by Vijaya, her sister Sheila and their brother Harish, who had one bedroom, and her father's two brothers, their wives and her four male cousins. Kartik and Laxman were the sons of her elder uncle, Sravan, and his wife, Radha. Coomar, the younger uncle, and his wife Mariamma, had Jose and Pran. Her uncles were in their forties. The elder boys were about Vijaya's age, their brothers a year or two younger. Vijaya's sister and brother were much older than she, and Vijaya was brought up by her siblings.
With so many people sharing a limited space, there was constant tension and, frequently, there would be flare-ups and fights. The uncles tried to keep peace but there were times when they were forced to side with their wives, which only exacerbated matters. Being the youngest, and essentially dependent on the uncles, Vijaya and her siblings were often isolated and picked on. As he grew older, Vijaya's brother afforded some protection but, without complete financial independence, he wasn't always free to act and speak as he felt.
Vijaya grew up in this atmosphere, surrounded by elders, mostly men, with very little female influence or companionship of her own age. By the time she attained puberty, she was used to seeing the men move around the house bare-chested in their trousers or shorts or with towels or *lungi*s wrapped around their waists. She had a lively mind and a vivid imagination and these, combined with the increasingly explicit quality of public media, soon turned the menfolk in the family from playmates and relatives to objects of fantasized desire.
At eighteen, Vijaya discovered the pleasures of masturbation. Her body matured early and she found she could elicit piquant sensations by playing with her breasts and slit. She spent hours playing with herself, pinching her nipples and rubbing her slit till, finally, there came the exquisite rush of heat that left her flushed and breathless.
Vijaya was frequently alone at home. Her cousins were at work, her uncles and aunts and her brother and sister held day-long jobs. Vijaya pretty much had the run of the house for several hours each day. As her fascination with sex and lust grew, she used this time alone to indulge her fantasies. She moved around the house naked, enjoying the thrill of it, studying her body in every reflective surface. She caressed herself on the rough curtain materials or ribbed corduroy upholstery. She flipped through film magazines ogling the pictures of handsome film stars, studying the contours of their bodies or closed her eyes and imagined her cousins or uncles or the house servant, seeing the hardness of their torsos, the deep clefts in their chests, the strength in their arms and legs.
While her hankering for physical satisfaction grew sharper, Vijaya still didn't have an accurate idea of what sex involved. She stumbled on it one day when she was rummaging through Kartik's bureau. He was her eldest cousin and easily the sexiest with a hard, tall body and handsome features. Of late, she had begun to go through their clothes, especially their underwear. Kartik's jock-straps fascinated her and she tried to imagine what he looked like wearing them. She pressed them to her face, trying to get his smell from his clothes, rubbed the cloth in her naked crotch, moaning softly as she brought herself off. One day, poking around in his room, she found he had left his cupboard unlocked. She opened it and went through his things. Stuffed under a pile of clothes, she found a large brown paper packet. Curious, she pulled it out. It was unsealed, and thick and heavy. She put her hand in and what she found made her gasp.
It was a pornographic magazine and, beneath it, was a video cassette. Vijaya stared at the cover of the magazine. It showed a photograph of a beautiful white woman wearing black lacy lingerie, her crotch and breasts bare, and she had one finger between her lips and another in her slit and she was smiling wantonly at the camera. Vijaya moaned in excitement and turned the page.
It was her first exposure to the intricacies of actual copulation, and Vijaya was riveted. She knew from her biology lessons in college that men had penises and that procreation involved the insertion of a penis into the vagina -- but what it meant and looked like and what was possible beyond this clinical description she had no idea. The magazine showed her. It was a wonderfully glossy journal, published, she noticed, by a Chennai company called Oranadu, a division of something called Tallamani & Jaya Ltd. There were shots of women sucking cock, of men licking slit, of a man fucking a woman from behind, a close-up of his cock going into her cunt, another of him fucking her from top with yet another close-up, shots of one woman being fucked by two men, two women fucking one man, lesbian sex, women masturbating, an exquisitely realized photo spread across four pages of a gorgeous woman being fucked in the ass by a black stud with a stunning body and a penis of awesome dimensions.
Vijaya's imagination ran wild. She masturbated frantically looking at the pictures and, oddly, found herself wanting more even after her orgasm. She read the magazine again, this time going through the text and finding words like fuck and cunt and slit and dick and pussy and clit and prick and whore and slut and bitch. She flipped over on her back on Kartik's bed and his jock-strap flung across her breasts and, holding the magazine in one hand, fondled her slit with the other. She came again. And still she wanted more. She tried the video-cassette, using the TV and video player in Kartik's family's room.
If the magazine was an introduction, the pornographic movie was a full-fledged intensive course. The titles showed that it was made by a company called Vivid Productions, also owned by the same Chennai company whose name she had seen on the magazine.
It was a stunning movie, more mind-blowing than anything she had seen or dreamed of --and, as she was to find in later years, when she herself acted in several such movies for them, typical of the company's quality.
The sets were lush and rich, the photography imaginative and detailed, the plot fully realized and engrossing, and the sex was unbelievable.
Incessant, prolonged, innovative, never boring or repetitious, it was the most erotic thing Vijaya had ever seen. The story told of the sexual awakening of a young woman called Anjali. She was gorgeous, earthy and sensual and utterly erotic. Her first sexual encounter was with a servant and she progressed rapidly from there, taking more and more lovers.
Vijaya watched the film through, seeing Anjali masturbating, at first using everyday household objects – hard cucumbers, *bottle gourd* gourds, under-ripe bananas, hairbrushes and the handle of a clothes-paddle -- graduating to more exotic aids like dildos and ejaculator vibrators, then moving on to sex with the servants and later to boys in college.
She saw Anjali sucking cock, having her cunt licked, locked in a sixty-nine; Anjali taking a cock in her cunt, between her breasts, in her anus; Anjali fucking two and three men simultaneously and, in a glorious orgy, whoring with a whole crowd of servants. Anjali had an affair with her cousin, seducing one hot summer afternoon, and Anjali did a live sex dance on a beach. The film ended, promising a sequel, with Anjali on the brink of matrimony.
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