by Lane, Nina
“Have you had many encounters like that?”
“Some.”
“Rohan, don’t you ever just want to leave here?” Devora asked. “I mean, move to another country or something? It must get unbearable at times.”
“I have a much better life than most. I am not complaining.”
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked near a grove of trees by the river. For moment, they watched the flow of the water as it drifted south, then got out and spread a blanket underneath a tree. The sun had become increasingly warm over the course of the morning, but the leafy tree branches provided a lovely coolness.
“There, now, isn’t this better than a teahouse?” Devora asked. She handed him a mutton pie and uncapped a bottle of soda water. “I imagine those places are a great deal like the British clubs.”
She unstrapped her shoes and took them off, wriggling her toes with pleasure as a rush of air swept over them. They ate lunch in companionable silence while listening to the rhythm of the river and the twittering of birds.
Devora popped a slice of orange in her mouth and glanced at Rohan.
“Why don’t you relax?” she asked.
“I am very relaxed.”
“No, I mean, unbutton your jacket.” Devora leaned over and unfastened the buttons of his suit. “And loosen your tie, for heaven’s sake. Don’t worry about looking rumpled because there’s no one to see you.”
“Now, why do I think you find that fact particularly inviting?” Rohan asked, a teasing look in his eyes.
“You can’t possibly think I’m going to seduce you right here and now.”
“I think you are capable of almost anything, memsahib.”
Devora gave him a mock frown. “You think I’m a complete tart, don’t you?”
“Complete,” Rohan agreed. His dark eyes grew warm as he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her gently towards him. “A tart of the most delicious flavor.”
His lips brushed lightly over hers in a kiss that caused a little quiver to run down her spine. Thoughts of their unorthodox situation slipped into oblivion as she parted her lips under Rohan’s and allowed him to explore her mouth with his tongue.
He kissed with a rich sensuality that belied his reserved persona. Slowly, his hands slipped around to cup Devora’s face as he deepened their kiss. The gesture made her feel almost cherished, as if he were holding something precious within his grasp. She moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her body sink against his.
“This is perhaps not wise,” Rohan murmured, his lips moving over hers.
“Nothing about our situation is wise,” Devora reminded him breathlessly as she drove her hands into the thick coarseness of his hair. “We’re a couple of fools, you and I.”
She slipped his jacket off his shoulders and began to unbutton his shirt, exposing the hair-roughened skin of his chest inch by tantalizing inch. Lowering her head, Devora followed the pathway with her lips.
Her hands stroked down over his chest to his groin. Rohan’s breathing increased as Devora slipped her hand into his trousers and closed her fingers around the length of his penis. She pulled it out and murmured a husky sound of admiration, rubbing her thumb lightly over the tip before taking him in her mouth.
Rohan’s hips jerked upward with a suggestive movement when Devora’s tongue swirled over him. Her own sex grew heavy with the thick blood of lust. She slid Rohan’s sleek phallus in and out of the cavern of her mouth, murmuring lewd little noises in the back of her throat designed to incite him further.
“Wait.” The word emerged from Rohan’s throat on a choked gasp. His hand twined into her hair to still her movements. “Stop.”
Devora pulled away, flashing him a wicked smile as she reached underneath her dress to unclasp her garters and remove her stockings. Then she eased closer to Rohan and straddled him, brushing the head of his shaft against the moist folds of her sex. His body tensed with pleasure as Devora enclosed the tip of his penis in her body. She clutched her dress and pulled the material over her hips as she lowered herself onto him.
Clenching her inner muscles around Rohan’s shaft, she leaned forward and began to ride him, watching with satisfaction the painful contortion of his expression as he fought to retain control over himself. His hands lifted towards her swaying breasts, their hard nipples pressing enticingly against the fabric of her dress. He undid the buttons quickly to expose her breasts and palm them in his hands.
Devora splayed her body over his, crushing her breasts against his chest and delighting in the sensation of his crisp chest hairs scraping the bare v-neckline of her cleavage. The heat of his body burned into her, his skin damp with sweat.
Twisting her hips, she found a particular angle that created the most pressure in her sex. Tightness gathered in her loins, coiling around her body until her breath came in rapid pants and her skin prickled with heat. The tense control of Rohan’s body under her, his muscles straining, his hot breath against her forehead, swayed Devora’s senses like a potent aphrodisiac.
“Say something,” she whispered, her tongue flickering out to capture a bead of sweat trickling into the scorched hollow of his throat.
Stilling her writhing movements, she tightened her satin depths around his shaft and reached up to grip his hair. Rohan opened his eyes, which were filled with heat and desperation over being poised on the brink of rapture.
“Something wicked,” Devora urged.
Rohan grabbed the back of her head, forcing her mouth down on his again.
“Fuck me,” he hissed against her lips. The words sounds deliciously salacious and musical in his accented English. “Fuck me good and hard.”
Devora’s blood seethed as his words spilled into her. She curled her hands around the hard biceps of his arms, digging her fingernails into his flesh as urgency stretched to breaking point.
This was the moment she craved the most, the precipice so fraught with tension and pain. She let it build before forcing herself to quell the threatening waves, heightening her anticipation until she could stand it no longer and plunged her body down on Rohan’s cock with a moan of ecstasy. His hips bucked upward as he groaned and thrust into her with an almost violent release.
Devora stretched over her lover, relishing the endless shudders that rippled outward from her sex as her inner walls convulsed around him. She lifted her head and smiled at him, reaching to run her hand through his dark, damp hair.
“Let’s try and do this more often,” she suggested languidly.
“Make love, you mean?”
Devora rested her head on his chest as she gazed out at the gently undulating waves of the river. As she listened to the beating of her lover’s heart, a strange melancholy stole over her. “And simply be together.”
***
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gerald stomped the dust off his boots before entering the bungalow. The damn hot season seemed to be arriving early, and everyone, both British and Indian, was getting irritable and belligerent.
Gerald hoped Devora wouldn’t argue too much about going up to Simla in a month or so when the temperature would be truly unbearable. She’d find it to be much cooler in the hill station. Gerald was also convinced that a long separation would be good for both of them. He was beginning to find her constant nonconformity rather tiresome. A couple of months spent in the company of the memsahibs would surely straighten her out.
“Devora?” Gerald called out her name as he shed his jacket. He did like it when he arrived home after a long day and she greeted him with a drink. She always looked cool and lovely, and she’d learned how to make his gin and tonics just right. “Devora, are you home?”
Kalindi poked her head out of the kitchen. “Sahib, you are home early.”
“Yes, I know. Where’s my wife?”
“She has gone for tea at the club,” Kalindi informed him. “She will be back before supper.”
“Right, well, bring me a dr
ink, would you?”
“Yes, sahib. You wish tea?”
“No. A gin and tonic.”
“Gin and tonic?”
Gerald sighed. “Oh, never mind.” He waved his hand dismissingly. “Go draw me a bath.”
“Yes, sahib.” Kalindi hurried out of the kitchen and went down the hallway towards the bathroom.
Gerald strode to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He took a long draught and closed his eyes with relief. The dust from this bloody country seemed to have permanently settled in his throat.
He went into the bathroom, his gaze going to the rounded curves of Kalindi’s buttocks as she leaned over the bathtub. His penis twitched in his trousers as he remembered what it felt like to grasp those buttocks in his hands while plunging deep inside her.
Kalindi straightened and turned, starting as she saw him standing behind her. “Oh, sahib, I did not know you were there.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to wash my back, won’t you?” Gerald set his glass down and stripped off his tie and shirt.
Kalindi let out a small giggle and perched on the edge of the tub. “If I must, sahib.”
“Where is Rohan?”
“He has gone into town.”
“Good.” Gerald shed his trousers and climbed into the warm water, letting it soothe away the aches and tensions of the day.
With a contented sigh, he leaned his head against the side of the tub. Kalindi picked up the sponge and lathered it with soap, then began to rub it over his chest. She had a nice, soothing touch. She stroked the sponge downward towards his belly in slow circles before reaching his groin. Gerald’s prick was half-hard already, and it thickened within Kalindi’s grasp as she reached below the water’s surface to touch him.
Gerald let out a groan and closed his eyes. “Oh, yes. That feels good.”
Kalindi giggled again and began to stroke him, her warm fist enclosing him like a glove. The sensation of her touch and the water combined to create a wealth of sensations over his sensitive flesh. Kalindi’s fingers drifted down to stroke the tender skin underneath his prick, causing Gerald to buck his hips upward.
“That hurts you?” Kalindi asked.
“No, darling, that feels wonderful.”
Kalindi continued the delicious caress, causing Gerald’s arousal to intensify. He opened his eyes to look at her, feeling desire heat his blood at the sight of her flushed face and full breasts. He reached out and rubbed his fingers over her nipple through the cotton of her sari. The bud hardened underneath his touch and tented the thin fabric. An unbidden thought occurred to Gerald, causing a rush of excitement unlike any he had known before.
“Who is that girl who works in the kitchen with you?”
“You speak of Lota?”
“Yes. Where is she now?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Go fetch her and bring her into the bedroom. I think I’m in the mood for two women right now.”
Kalindi stared at him. “Oh, sahib, I—”
“Do it!” Gerald snapped.
“You are certain this is a good idea?” A spark flashed in Kalindi’s eyes.
“Oh, I’m certain.”
Kalindi giggled, dropped the sponge, and rushed out of the bathroom. Gerald climbed out of the tub and let the water drip in rivulets off his body. He grabbed a towel and dried himself, rubbing his hard cock. The rough towel felt exquisite against his erection. After wrapping the towel around his waist, he went into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed.
The two women entered the bedroom together. Kalindi’s eyes were bright with excitement as she stopped by the bed. Gerald let his gaze roam over Lota, thinking she wasn’t as pretty as Kalindi, but she had a nice, voluptuous body. She looked at him with a hint of trepidation.
Gerald reached out and cupped one of Kalindi’s breasts in his hand, flicking his thumb over her nipple.
“Take off your clothes,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
Kalindi moved away and stripped off her sari to reveal the curves of her body. Her black hair fell in sweeping waves over her shoulders and breasts, providing tantalizing glimpses of her nudity.
Gerald pressed his hand between her legs to feel the heat of her cunt. She could never hide her own arousal. Gerald toyed with the thick curls, then pressed a finger into her wet channel. Kalindi gasped with pleasure and steadied herself on the bedpost.
“Like that, do you?” Gerald murmured, thrusting his finger back and forth.
“Oh, yes, sahib, that is good.”
Gerald glanced at Lota, who was watching them with increasing hunger. He grasped his penis in his hand and stroked the shaft suggestively.
“Come here,” he invited. “I think you can do something with this.”
Fascination appeared in the Indian woman’s eyes as she approached him. She stripped off her sari to reveal her curvaceous body, then climbed on the bed next to him and reached out to touch him. She and Kalindi exchanged glances as the air around them thickened with lust.
Gerald drew in a breath, unable to believe that he actually had two women devoted to his pleasure. Lota began to stroke his cock, squeezing the shaft with just the right amount of pressure. Gerald leaned back and let himself enjoy the carnal pleasure.
He urged Kalindi onto the bed so that she straddled his shoulders, then he lifted her enough so that he could plunge his tongue into her cunt. Kalindi cried out with pleasure, her body swaying over his as Gerald licked up the salty droplets of her arousal and encouraged her pleasure.
The scent of her filled his nostrils with a potent stimulation that went straight to his groin, engorging his flesh even more. He swirled his tongue around Kalindi’s flesh until she bucked her hips and shrieked, her body vibrating so violently that Gerald had to clutch her waist to hold her still.
“Oh, sahib, how wonderful,” Kalindi gasped as she rolled off him. She looked at Lota, reaching out to kiss the woman with hot affection. The sight of them, their breasts pressing together, nipples touching, almost made Gerald spend right then and there. Only the thought of even more acute pleasures reined in his control.
He grasped his cock and gave Lota a meaningful look. “Well?”
She straddled his waist, her chest heaving with the force of her breath. Gerald clutched her hips and guided her over him. Slowly, he eased her down until her sex pressed against him. The mere sensation of her hot dampness sent a jolt of pure need through his body.
With a groan, he pushed her down harder, sliding into her cunt as her inner walls clenched around him. Lota gasped as he filled her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Sweat broke out on Gerald’s chest as he tried to prevent himself from losing control too quickly.
“Now,” Gerald gritted. “Move.”
Lota moaned and started to move her body so that he slid in and out of her with increasing frenzy. Her breasts swayed in front of him so enticingly that Gerald pulled her forward and captured one nipple between his teeth. Pressure built in his loins as Lota continued her writhing movements.
Wet, slapping noises filled the air in tandem with their panting breaths. Kalindi insinuated herself between Gerald’s legs, bending to lick his testicles with her tongue as his cock slipped in and out of Lota’s cunt.
Unbelievable sensations built in Gerald’s lower body with the combined tight warmth of Lota and the moist licks of Kalindi’s tongue. Lota let out a cry suddenly, her body convulsing around him. The feeling of her vibrations and Kalindi’s ministrations sent Gerald over the edge. His body exploded with a rush of pleasure as he spilled himself into her.
Lota sank down onto the bed with harsh breaths. Kalindi draped herself over her friend, her hands moving with familiar ease over Lota’s body. Gerald closed his eyes as the last of the sensations ebbed away, thinking that this was an experience he would have to try again. Just imagine the possibilities of two women.
Turning his head, he looked at them and rubbed his hand over Kalindi’s back.
“Thank y
ou both,” he said. “But my wife is due home, and I don’t think she would appreciate finding you both here.”
Giggling, Kalindi and Lota dressed quickly in their saris and hurried back to the kitchen. Gerald went back to finish his bath in the tepid water. He dressed in a clean pair of trousers and shirt, then returned to the sitting room and refilled his glass with gin and tonic. He felt good now, incredibly sated thanks to the two women, and loose from the effects of the alcohol.
He added more gin to the glass and caught sight of the dining table. One end of it was covered with Devora’s drawings and sketchpads, not to mention a number of paints and pencils. Gerald went to the table and opened one of the sketchpads. Devora certainly had been busy with her hobby, he thought, as he examined the numerous drawings. She did have an eye for detail, though. Perhaps too much detail. Some of the drawings were very explicitly erotic.
Gerald frowned. Where on earth had she seen sculptures like these? As far as he knew, the only temples with that kind of pornography were the Khajuraho temples. And he had expressly forbade her from going there.
Setting his glass down, Gerald began to look at the drawings and paintings more closely. Devora never shared her work with him, and he’d never asked to see it. He had always considered her art to be her own little, distracting hobby. As a result, he hadn’t paid much attention to it.
He realized now that she was quite talented, although he couldn’t believe some of the subject she had chosen. Sculptures of men and women fucking in all manner of positions, even upside down.
Where in the love of God had Devora been exposed to this? It was one thing for him to engage in rather outrageous carnal activities, but it certainly wasn’t appropriate for a British woman to even be aware of them.
Gerald flipped over the thick page of a sketchpad, only to be met with an image of Rohan’s face. Gerald frowned. Now Devora was sketching the servants? He lifted the drawing to the light and examined it closely.
She was undoubtedly talented. She had captured Rohan’s likeness perfectly, right down to the man’s enigmatic expression. He put the pad down and went to the dozen canvases that sat stacked against the wall. The first was a finished painting of a local, Hindu temple, and the second was a half-finished painting of one of those voluptuous female statues.