Erotica from the INDIAN HEAT archives
NOTE: This may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT
be sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.
Mary Jorsay Gandmar
P E N T A P R I S M
Line of Sight
The handsome servant pressed his eye cautiously to the
keyhole of the locked door. His vision was framed by the aperture.
He held his breath and watched the seventeen-year within
Humming to herself, Anuja selected a cassette and popped it into
the stereo deck. She adjusted the controls and a popular number
began playing, with a steady, insistent beat. Snapping her
fingers, mouthing the words, jigging in tune to the music, she
crossed to the bank of closets. The servant's view was obscured by
the open leaf. She closed it, her arms full of clothes and dumped
them on the bed at the far end of the room, directly opposite the
door. She flipped open a box of assorted chocolates from the
bedside table and, selecting one, popped it into her mouth.
There was a dressing table with a full-length mirror at the foot
of the bed. She stood in front of it and quickly unbuttoned her
long white *kurta*, pulled it off her head. The servant gasped
behind the door. He could see hear naked back, the bra straps. She
tugged at the drawcord of her *churidar* and it rustled to her
feet. Her were very small, white. Humming, she turned and
now he had a glimpse of her full frontal. His penis bounced erect.
She was very lovely. Dusky, sensual, fleshy, with large, dark
eyes, lined with *kajal*, black hair that fell to her waist
in a braid. Her skin was smooth and clear, with several attractive
and sexy birth-marks on her face and neck. He saw one on the
inside of her left breast. Her were large and full and
heavy, with a devastating cleavage. She wore a gold chain around
her neck. It glistened against her tawny skin. Her belly was firm
and flat and her hips flared perfectly, to sweetly curved buttocks
and long, firm legs. Her limbs were smoothly turned and her feet
and hands were elegant and shapely, beneath slender wrists and
ankles. She wore a silver toe-ring, two diamond rings on one
finger, a small diamond nose-stud, matching ear-rings. A *bindi*
dotted the middle of her forehead. Her nose was slightly heavy,
but perfect on her. Her lips were full and luscious and her teeth
were perfect, white and strong and even.
Her brassiere was very pretty, with thin straps and tiny cups that
only just covered her nipples, leaving most of the luscious brown
globes bare. He could see the stubs of her nipples and the dark
shadows of her aureoles through the fine material. Her were so small that they barely covered her slit, and tiny dark
hair crept from either side of the V. The darkness of her delta
was clearly visible. The servant groaned softly as he watched her.
She paused and reached behind her with both hands to unhook her
bra. Her chest thrust outward and her strained at the
confines for a second, and then she slipped the straps off her
rounded shoulders and her bounced free. She tossed the bra
into the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed and then, hooking
her hands in her panties, rolled them down and kicked them aside.
The servant stared at her naked body in mounting desire. The dark
triangle of her mesmerised him. As he watched, she bent to
pick up the discarded clothes and carried them to the laundry
basket in the corner. She dumped them in it and strolled back. The
servant watched her bouncing.
She stopped before the mirror, right in front of him. He could see
her front in the reflection quite clearly. Reaching up, she coiled
her long braid into a knot high on the back of her head,
accentuating the sweep of her neck. The gold chain glistened on
her flesh. Then she paused and smiled at her reflection. She
looked at her teeth, grimacing, turning her head this way and
that. Then she stopped, and he saw her eyes sparkling with
mischief. She held her palms between her breasts, the outside
edges touching, palm to the tip of her little finger and slowly
weighed and lifted her breasts. Gently, she began to thumb her
nipples. Moistening her finger with her tongue, she rubbed her
nipples and aureoles. Her nipples stiffened and she pinched them
gently, tweaking and twirling the hard stubs. The servant saw her
breathing get shallower and more rapid, the tensing of her body,
the parting of her lips, the flaring of her nostrils, all the
unmistakable signs of sexual arousal. She squeezed her in
her hands, the flesh squeezing between her fingertips and arched
her head, her tongue arching lasciviously over her upper lip.
Outside, watching her, the servant groaned and pulled his erect
cock out of his shorts and began to slowly. He pressed
his eye to the keyhole again. She was still fondling her beautiful
Anuja knew she was being watched. He had been doing this for some
weeks now and, long ago, she had seen the dark eye glittering
beyond the keyhole and knew it was him. She felt no revulsion or
shame, rather enjoyed the attention. She was horny and sexy, and
the was sexy. So what if he was only a servant? He was a human
being, after all, and a very desirable one. He was quite tall and
dark and muscular, with a finely chiseled face and the strong
features of the warrior Maratha caste. His eyes were deep-set and
dark, his nose fine and straight, his mouth lean and wide. His
shoulders were broad, his chest cleaved and muscular and hard and
his belly was a slab of rock. His waist was narrow, his hips were
high and buttocks taut. His arms and legs bore bunches of
musculature. She knew his body was lean and tough, his torso
smoothly hairless. She had often watched him as he came out of his
bath in his shorts and nothing else, toweling his thick, tousled
hair. His nipples were small and dark and pulled low and wide on
either side of his heavy pectorals. All said and done, Baban was
one sexy hunk of a and she liked the fact that he desired her.
One day, she promised herself, she would entice him to fuck her.
Baban knew nothing of this. His lust for her body was
overpowering, and he could not take his eyes off her. He watched
as she continued to fondle herself, squeezing and massaging her
generous, gorgeous breasts. How he wanted to feel them, take them
in his hands, sense their weight and fullness, feel the stiffness
of her nipples in his fingers, watch her pleasure as his hands,
not hers, moved over her irresistible flesh.
He gasped softly. In the room, Anuja smiled wantonly at her
reflection and slid a hand down to her crotch. Baban watched her
face crease in pleasure as she teased her cunt-lips open and
rubbed her finger along the slit. She gasped and her hips lurched,
her buttocks writhing and twitching. Her mouth fluttered open and,
slowly, she slid a finger into her cunt. Gently, she masturbated
before the mirror, moving her finger in and out of her slit,
twisting it round and round, while her other hand fondled her
visibly swollen breasts. She gasped softly and her hand moved
faster in her crotch, her wrist pumping back and forth. Her hips
twitched and lurched, rocking and jerking back and forth, and her
fingers were frenzied on her breasts. Baban groaned in despair.
She deserved better than her fingers; she deserved a cock, a big,
cock in her cunt.
Obviously, Anuja felt no differently. She kept masturbating and,
as he watched, leaned forward on an outstretched arm, her hand on
the dresser counter and spread her feet wide. Her buttocks splayed
open and Baban had an unobstructed view of her puckered anus and
her unfurled cunt-lips with her slender, shapely, elegant finger
arched into it, rocking in and out, in and out. In the mirror, her
upturned face was a vision of lust, her mouth a wide 'O'.
Baban pumped his cock eagerly, moaning and gasping. In the room,
Anuja's body rocked back and forth and he saw her pendulous
jiggling and bouncing, saw, too, the expression of delight
on her face and her finger, wet and sticky, wriggling and darting
into her tender cunt-flesh.
Abruptly, she stopped and rummaged in a drawer in her cupboard and
pulled out something. Baban gasped when he saw that it was a
*dandiya*, one of the pair of sticks used in the annual,
traditional *raas-garba* dances. He expected her to use it as a
dildo, but she surprised him yet again. Her chest heaving with
excitement, her eyes dilated and glassy, her nostrils flared,
Anuja moved away from the mirror.
The bed had a carved wooden head-board and a matching, slightly
lower foot-board. There was a decorative mirror above the bed,
too. The ends of the foot-board bore carved wooden knobs, raised
high, just below groin-level. Baban watched pop-eyed as she
mounted the knob, spreading her legs on either side of it, one
foot on the bed with her knee deeply bent, the other on the floor,
her back to him. Slowly, she eased her down onto it, and in
the mirror, her face spasmed with lust and her head arched back
and her mouth jerked wide open as she sank her onto the knob.
He watched her moan, heard her voice, soft and husky and sexily
sibilant and she gripped the woodwork and forced her deeper
onto the pillar. It disappeared into her flesh, the entire knob
and part of the supporting cylindrical shaft. Whimpering, she
rocked slowly back and forth, her impaled on the wood.
Moaning, she leaned forward and gripped the carved fretwork. Baban
saw her buttocks flex tight, open, flex again and then she was
fucking herself slowly and heavily on the bedstead, her buttocks
writhing, swaying, rocking back and forth, up and down. Her face
turned, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open sensuously and her
tongue swirled in an erotic arc over her upper lip. How he longed
to fuck her mouth, feel her suck and lick his raging erection. His
fingers were sticky with gunk.
On the bed's foot-board, Anuja gasped and moaned, rocking her body
back and forth. The knob and shaft glistened with cunt-juice. Her
ran up and down the shaft, and her hips swirled, her churning itself with the knob. She caressed her swinging,
pendulous sexily. The gold chain around her neck rocked
back and forth. Groaning, she fumbled for the *dandiya*. Slowing
her motions, she paused to uncap a jar of cream and dipped the
narrower end of the *dandiya* into it. Pulling it out, she smeared
it slowly and then her hand went between her buttocks and Baban
saw her anoint her anus and understood what she was going to do
and his jaw dropped in shock and astonishment.
Moaning, Anuja leaned forward again and shuffled her feet further
apart. Holding the bed-stand with one hand, the *dandiya* in the
other, she stretched a hand behind her buttocks and pressed the
lubricated tip of the rod to her anus. He saw her pause and then
her arm flexed and she pushed the *dandiya* into her asshole. Her
head snapped up and he heard her cry.
"OHHHHHHHHHH ma unhhhhh OHHHHHHH!"
Her fingers tensed on the fretwork. Her face convulsed and spasmed
in a trismus of excitement. Her buttocks lurched and writhed and
sank deeper onto the upright pole and knob. The hand behind her
began to move slowly, rocking back and forth, pushing the tip of
the *dandiya* in and out of her anus. At the same time, her slid up and down the bedpost. Faster and faster she went, moaning,
gasping, rocking and lurching. Her jiggled and bounced and
he saw that her nipples were nut-hard. Her hand rocked behind her
back, moving the *dandiya* in and out of her anus faster and
faster, deeper and deeper. With a shuddering gasp, she orgasmed,
her back bowing inward, her face jerking up and contorting with
lust, the hand behind her back tensing, pressing the *dandiya*
deep into her anus while her sank deeply onto the bedpost. On
and on it went, and she moaned, gasped, her chest heaving till it
Slowly, she slid the *dandiya* out of her anus and gingerly lifted
her off the bedpost with a shaking moan. She flopped on the
bed and lay across it, her hips at the edge, her feet on the
floor, her chest heaving. He could see her cunt-flesh clearly, for
her thighs were spread wide. Moaning, she caressed her again, and her hand slid down her body to her and she slid
her finger sensuously up and down the wet slit. Baban thought the
sight of her dark, wet against her slender, bejeweled finger
was incredibly erotic.
At last she rose and smiled to herself. It was a satisfied,
sensual, wanton look, her eyes glittering with pleasure. Baban saw
that she was sweating, beads of perspiration dotting her upper lip
and coursing between her breasts. She went into the bathroom,
leaving the door open. Her bounced as she walked.
The bathroom was positioned so that her every move was reflected
in the mirror above the bed outside, or the one above the dressing
table and so fully visible to Baban at the keyhole. He watched her
on the toilet, douching herself carefully and then she went into
the shower, humming to herself. Baban watched as she bathed and
shampooed. When she soaped herself, her hands roaming her and buttocks and thighs, lathering her crotch, Baban saw her smile
again in pleasure. She plucked the handshower from its bracket in
the wall and adjusted the spray to a hard, drumming, spurt. She
ran it over her and he saw her nipples harden. Then she
spread her legs and, arching her head, directed the jet into her
slit. Baban watched her move it closer to her cunt-lips. Finally,
she had it jammed to her cunt-lips and with her other hand she
turned the tap up full. The water pressure must have been terrific
gauging from her reaction for she gasped and her hips lurched and
her head snapped back and she moaned wantonly. Again she squeezed
her in excitement as the water drummed and hammered into
her cunt. Her hips twitched and jerked back and forth. She
clenched the shower-rod and gasped and her face contorted in a
rictus of pleasure, her head arching back, falling forward,
rolling from side to side as she moved the water-jet around in her
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bath with a towel
wrapped around her waist, her torso bare. Her body glistened with
water. Absurdly, there was a big, long carrot on her desk. Taking
it, she turned and advanced to the door. Baban froze, terrified
that she might fling it open and catch him. Instead, she stopped
and slowly dropped her towel. Her was inches from his eye,
just on the other side of the door. His vision filled with it. He
stared at it greedily, longing to plunge his now throbbing penis
into it again and again, to feel its heat and wetness and
tightness. She parted her cunt-lips and he saw clearly the tender
bright cunt-flesh, the hard stub of her clitoris and he longed to
suck it, nibble it, taste the juice that seemed to flow still for
the flesh was wet.
Anuja lay on the floor on her back and spread her legs wide,
lifting her feet to the wall on either side of the door beyond
which Baban knelt, gasping and gaping. Now she was right in front
of him and he was looking between her legs, straight down at
her unfurled cunt. Anuja smiled wantonly at the door, and, holding
the carrot, inserted it slowly into her cunt. Her arms were
stretched and her bunched between them. Baban gasped.
Slowly, she began to masturbate, moving the carrot in and out of
her cunt. He watched it grow wet and shiny with her cunt-juices.
She murmured in pleasure and her hips lurched and rocked and her
body rocked gently back and forth. She moved the carrot in and out
of her cunt, round and round. Licking a fingertip, she moistened
her aureoles and caressed her sensuously while her other
hand kept working between her legs. On and on she went and finally
exploded, gasping and mewing, her hips arching and lurching
upward. Slowly, she slid the carrot out of her slit and, with a
lascivious grin, began to nibble on it.
All this time, her eyes were on the door and it seemed as if she
knew he was there and wanted him to be. *Fuck me*, she seemed to
say. *I want you*. It was what he desired more than anything else
in the world and, on the other side of the door, so did she.
Groaning, Baban exploded, flooding his hand with jizz.
And then she got up and hung her towel over the doorknob, covering
the keyhole and eclipsing his pleasure.
= o =