Angelique de Villiers glanced around at the state of the home she had just entered. In its heyday, “Colaba Mansion” must’ve been a beautiful home, with terraces situated off each bedroom, but today it was only fit for demolition, Angelique thought. As she looked around the home, she wondered how the family could live under such primitive conditions, and most of all, how she could spend any time at all in the musty dump they considered a home. She stared at the sofa which had seen better days, and the old faded curtains which still adorned the windows and fluttered in the morning breeze. The walls seemed to be crumbling from years of wear and tear, and it appeared not to have been painted in a very long time. She hated the blue color the people in India used on many of the buildings, especially on their homes. As she gazed around the home, she wondered how her Uncle Prabhat had allowed his home to fall into such a state of disrepair. However the worst part was the damp, musty odor which pervaded the house.
Angelique de Villiers was only twenty-two. Gorgeous, tall, with long, flowing auburn hair which reached down to her tiny waist. She was the dream of every man who laid eyes upon her, a mixture between her beautiful Indian mother and her very Francophone father. Wherever she went, men’s heads turned to gaze at her, hoping she would meet their gaze. She knew the effect her presence had on complete strangers, but never allowed it to stand in the way of good judgment. Her lips were the dream of every man’s carnal desires, her breasts, upright and amply endowed, and her body, a female form that was built only for sin. Who would have guessed that this twenty-two-year-old was still a virgin!
Lakshmi de Villiers, Angelique’s mother, had always spoken about the beautiful home her brother had bought in the state of Maharashtra, just north of the city of Mumbai. The home had been the envy of the family and friends alike, but as Angelique glanced around her uncle’s crumbling home, a feeling of melancholy seemed to overpower her. Although Lakshmi de Villiers loved her brother, she was not terribly fond of his wife. She found Anoush to be greedy and conniving and would stop at nothing to marry off her daughters to the highest bidder.
When Angelique told her parents she needed a break away from the cold weather of Southern France, her father Jean-Claude suggested that she take a trip to India to visit her relatives, some of whom she had never met. Having graduated after a gruelling six-year course in architecture, she decided to take a year off before she started her job search and so set out for the mystical country of India. She wanted to go to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. She wanted to see the Backwaters of Kerala, Varanasi, Darjeeling, Goa and the city of Pune. She wanted to experience all the things her mother had spoken about. So on a beautiful, warm day, after a long flight, she found herself in India, in her uncle’s shabby home..
* * * *
She was happy that her mother hadn’t accompanied her. She knew she would’ve been disappointed, if she saw the place that her brother now called home. It was obvious that her uncle had not revealed to his sister, the depths to which he had sunk.
“I’ll show you to your room,” said Anoush Prawar, her uncle’s wife, whom she referred to as “Auntie.”
She followed the woman, wondering what other surprises awaited her.
“Here we are,” Anoush said proudly.
“Merci,” Angelique said, staring at the bed, and wondering if she should sit on it.
“Now if you will follow me, I’ll show you the bathroom,” Anoush said. “You are probably in need of a nice, cool shower, after such a long flight.”
The bathroom looked worse than the rest of the house. Everything was either chipped or broken, and the bucket in the corner, what was it for, she wondered. She looked at the mirror but could hardly recognize her own face. The mirror was old and discolored, but at least it seemed clean. She returned to the bedroom and opened the closet door to hang her clothing only to find that the same damp, musty smell also lingered there. She wondered how long it would be before that odor would penetrate her clothing. She pushed open the window to let in some fresh air, and looked out at the view. Everything was lush and green. The flamboyant trees which Anoush referred to as Gulmohars were in bloom, and threw a blanket of red outside her window.
“How old are you now?” asked Anoush, observing everything Angelique was doing.
“I turned twenty-two last month,” Angelique replied.
“So when are you getting married?” the woman asked.
“Marriage?” Angelique asked, laughing.
“Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“The first thing I’ve got to do when I return home is to find a job. I’ve spent six long years in university, Auntie, and it was very costly. After finding a job, such things like a husband will follow.”
“You will be too old then,” said the woman, staring at her.
“Not at all,” Angelique said, laughing. “In France, young women never marry until they are in their early thirties. Are all your daughters married?”
“Four of them are. My youngest, Shakira, is still studying, but as soon as that is over, we’ll find her a suitable husband.”
“What is she studying?” Angelique asked.
“Languages. She says she wants to go abroad and work with the United Nations.”
“Suppose she doesn’t want to marry?” Angelique asked.
“Then what will she do? Who will look after her? What about our grandchildren?” she asked in a whining voice.
She was ripe with pleasure and realizing her arousal had been thrown into another dimension, Ravi continued to attack her senses. He raised his head to look at her and she saw her womanly juices smeared around his sexy sculpted lips. He lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder, and a finger worked its way inside her.
“You are so tight,” he said in husky voice. “I like that.”
She moaned and her hips rose up to meet him. He moved to his knees and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her cleft, watching as she writhed and begged. He positioned his cock at the opening of her channel and sought to penetrate her, but was met with stiff resistance.
“When was the last time you were fucked?” he asked, still trying force his cock inside her.
“I’ve never done it,” she replied.
“What do you mean by, I’ve never done it? Are you a virgin?” he asked, staring down at the curvaceous body under him that looked as if it was built only for sin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was important. I want you to be the first,” she replied.
“Oh God!” he exclaimed. “Do you really want me do this to you?”
“Yes,” she said emphatically.
He lifted her in his arms and squeezed her tightly. He didn’t speak.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“Not disappointed,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m really surprised. I have never been this close to a virgin.”
“I want you to make love to me,” she said in a pleading voice.
“Are you sure?” he asked, staring into her eyes.
“Yes. I’m quite sure,” she replied, as her eyes glazed over.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he replied.
He laid her on her back and pushed her thighs apart.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” he said. “But I’ll make you come first.”
He licked her from her knees all the way to her clit, the lips kept opened by his thumbs. Sounds of pleasure emanated from her lips as he sought to bring her to an orgasm. His slurping sounds excited her and she raised herself to her elbows and stared down at him. What she could feel but couldn’t see, was the way the tip of his tongue was flicking wildly across her clitoris. He ran it up and down the sides of her lips and then onto the mountain peak, causing her to lift and widen her legs in submission. At the most inopportune moment, her cell phone started to vibrate.
It can’t be, she thought as his tongue found its way into her entrance.
“My mother,” she whispered. “I forgot to call.”
“Go ahead and answer it,” he said, pausing to raise his head.
The conversation with her mother went on with Ravi’s head still stuck between her legs, pleasuring her.
“You don’t seem like yourself at all,” Lakshmi said to her daughter.
“I’m very tired, Mama. It was a long day and everything here is wonderful,” she said, squirming and her voice taking on a husky tone, as he impaled her deeper with his tongue.
“Why don’t we talk tomorrow? I know what the heat over there can do to you,” said her mother.
The thought of Angelique talking to her mother while he licked her sweet pussy threw the lovemaking to another dimension and Ravi sucked even harder. Her clit was swelling under the manipulations of his tongue, and he held it between his lips, sucking and licking, until she lost control and exploded in his mouth.
“Mon Dieu,” she called out as spasms attacked and overtook her body.
Ravi kept on gnawing on her clit until he thought she was truly fulfilled. He raised himself to his knees and she gazed at his angry-looking cock, with the vein running from his crown to his scrotum. She wondered how anything that looked so angry could make a woman feel so good. She was most anxious to find out.
“I want to taste you,” she said, making a fist around his cock.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, running his hand across the crown.
“Yes. I want to.”
He lay back on the bed, still gently stroking his throbbing cock. She knelt before him and rubbed her fingers across the slit in the crown. It felt wet and spongy. She closed her eyes and her lips replaced her fingers. His hips lifted and started to gyrate. She thought he was in pain, because of the noises coming from deep within his insides. He growled like a mating male lion. She ran her tongue from his tight sacs all the way up to the broad head and down again. Sloshing and slurping sounds filled the air, and there was the heavy scent of lust hanging in the air. Angelique had never tasted a man’s cock, but today she had succeeded in bringing Ravi to the brink, caught him from falling over the edge and took him to the brink again.
He stared at her lips, wrapped neatly around his cock and forming a perfect O. He knew he wouldn’t last too much longer. He held her head in his hands and jerked toward her as she ministered to him.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
She nodded. Her mouth was too full to reply.