Author; Ace, Storyace, [Aceinthe_hole]

Title; The rejection of Sangeeta [part 1]

Part 1 of 2

Summary; A young man is seduced by an exotic beauty, but she belongs to another.  As their affair grows in intensity, he knows he can't keep her. or can he?

Keywords;  M/F f/M,

storyace@hotmail.com

The rejection of Sangeeta part 1

She reached for the phone.

"Please don't."  I said.

"If I don't call him soon, I can pretty much forget about my life in London ."  She said.

"I thought you wanted to forget about your life in London ."  I said, taking her small perfect foot in my hand.

She looked at me gloomily. "Don't do that."  She said.

Ignoring her, I massaged the arch, sole, and toes.  Sangeeta stiffened slightly, and then settled back on the cushions.  Above us, I could hear my mother moving around in the kitchen, making breakfast for my little brother.

"I have a life there Joey.  An apartment, friends."

"You don't even know if he's kept paying the rent since you've been living with me."

"That's why I have to phone.  I can't just ignore everything in my life from before we met."

"You said you loved me." I said, running my thumb up her fine ankle.

"I was drunk."

"No you weren't."

"Love isn't all it's made out to be you know.  It's a pain in the ass actually."

"You told me you liked that."

"Liked what?"

"Pain in the ass."

"Can you ever think of anything else?"

"Well it's difficult, especially while we're in bed."

I moved my hand up her naked leg, and under the loose T-shirt she was wearing.  Her big breasts moved, a smile crossed her face.

Sangeeta had the sexiest body I'd ever seen, her hips wide and her waist narrow, long legs, small feet, and large breasts.  Her skin was perfect, as smooth and sweet as milk chocolate.  Her face was a sculpture, her lips made for kissing.  Her hair was thick, straight, and jet black

But it was her eyes that stole my heart.  Those big clear innocent brown eyes, eyes that glistened when they looked at me, yet sometimes filled with pain when her mind wandered to her past.

I pushed her over onto her front, and massaged her back.  I had to touch her, I had to feel her smooth warm flesh under my hands.  Her hand relaxed, and the phone fell onto the mattress unused.

The round globes of her naked ass called my mouth, and I bit her gently.

She rolled over, facing me again.

She took the phone back into her hand. "I have to make this call."  She said resolutely.

I pushed her knees apart, and lowered my face between her thighs.

I felt her slim body stiffen as my tongue began to lash the sweetest woman I'd ever tasted.

Her hands laced through my hair, both of her hands.  The phone was forgotten now, at least for the moment.

We always had great sex, from the first time to the last.  When I say sex, I don't mean just fucking; I mean, just looking at each other got us turned on.  Holding hands made us tingle.  Kissing drove us wild, when she touched me or I touched her, then we knew pleasure.  For Sangeeta and I, fucking was a byproduct of lovemaking instead of the other way around.

"Joey, stop it."  She said unconvincingly as I pushed my tongue deeper, clamping her ass in my hands as I strove to please her.

She groaned, unable to resist.  She pushed her pelvis against my face, her fingers clenching around my head.

I kissed her clitoris and massaged it with my lips, I passed my tongue up and down her tight little slot as her breath grew heavier, as her delicious body shivered; until she came.

With her breath still heaving, I pulled the T-shirt away from her extraordinary form.  I kissed my way up her flat brown belly, I nuzzled her firm breasts, and then I kissed her mouth.  Sangeeta enjoyed her own taste.

My cock was twitching, aching to enter her.

But as I slid into her, as our bodies clenched together like two opposite magnets, as her vagina clamped my cock and her big eyes bored into my brain, the intense physical delight was overshadowed by her plan to leave me.

To go back to him, the rich old man who kept her as a mistress.

I was young, I was strong, I was healthy and good-looking.  But Sangeeta didn't want to love me; I was poor.  And probably always would be.

When I first met her, she was with him.  I was moonlighting as a limo driver, I picked them up from Logan Airport on a Sunday morning.

Everyone could see exactly what they were.  He was a white businessman, 50 or 60 years old, with short gray hair and a prominent bald spot.  She was half his age, stunning, South Asian.  His mistress.

I put their luggage into the trunk, amused.

On the long drive up to Vermont , I listened to their banter, then their bickering, and finally their argument.  His accent was clipped and cultured public school English; hers was harder to define, but more a mixed colorful British.

"I take care of everything for you."  He claimed.

"You used to."  She retorted, "But now I'm lucky if you come by the flat once a month."

"I have responsibilities."  He said.

"I thought I was one of them."  She said.

"Yes of course you are."  He said unconvincingly.

"But after your job, your wife, and your kids.  Tell me Harry, do I get priority over your dog?"

"Don't be stupid Sangeeta."

When we got to the hotel, she didn't get out of the car.

"Give me my ticket, I'm going back."  She said.

"Sangeeta, don't be like that.  We have a week or two we can spend together."

"You're here to work.  We've been through all of this before Harry; I've had enough of broken promises.  You go to your meetings, do your research.  I'm going back to London ."

"Sangeeta, get out of the car!"

"You can't tell me what to do."  She said.

"I'm the one that pays the bills, so yes, I can."  He said venomously.

At this point, the luggage was piled onto the valet's cart, and I looked into the car.

The Asian woman's big eyes were spitting fire, her pretty face was set.

The businessman knew when he was defeated.  He opened his briefcase and took out her plane ticket and passport.  He threw them onto the seat next to her and walked into the hotel without another word.

"The pink bags are mine."  She said to me.

"Back to the airport?"  I asked her as we rolled out onto the road again.

"I'm not sure if there's a flight back tonight. Could I borrow your phone?"  She asked.

"Sure."  I handed it back to her.

"Oh, I don't know the number."  She said.

I pulled over into a lay by, and helped her call the airline.

We drove through the White Mountains back towards the highway.

"It's lovely here."  She said.

"My dad used to bring us up here when I was a kid."  I told her, "There are walking trails."

"Could we stop?  I need to stretch my legs."

Such lovely legs...

It was cold, clear, and sunny.  Sangeeta looked stunning in her knee-high leather boots, fitted brown leather jacket, and black stockings.

"Where does that trail go?"  She asked.

"There's a waterfall about 20 minutes walk, it's a popular picnic spot."  I told her.

"My flight isn't until 10 tonight."  She said.

"We can walk in if you want."

"Don't you have to get the car back?"

"No, there's hardly any work on Sundays.  I'm just supposed to drop it off back at the garage when I'm through."

We walked, we talked.

She'd had enough of her relationship, but she didn't know what to do now that it was over.  She'd done some modeling, she could probably take that up again but she didn't like it.

"Why not?"  I asked.

"It's degrading."  She said.

"I'd never thought of it like that."

"Well, I suppose it's all right if you get to keep your clothes on."  She said.

"Oh."  I said.

At one point, I took her hand to help her up some steps.  I didn't want to let go of it, and held on for a few extra seconds.  She smiled at me.

Such a small signal, but such a big one.

"The air here is so fresh.  It seems stupid to go all the way back to London when I've just got here."  She said as we walked back to the car.

"Then why don't you stay for a week or two?"

She stopped and looked at me mischievously; "Is that an offer?"  She asked.

For a moment, I uncharacteristically had no idea what to say. "Absolutely."  I finally came out with.

She got into the front seat of the Cadillac.

"Do you live alone?"  She asked.

"No, with my family."  I said.

"Oh."  She said

I could have snuck her in through the back door directly into my room, but that wasn't how we did things in my family.

"Everyone, this is Sangeeta.  She's going to be staying for a week or so."  I said as we came in.

"Sangeeta, this is my dad, Justin."

".Nice to meet you."  Dad said, getting out of his chair and offering his hand.

"This is my stepmother Jennifer."

"Hello, my gosh, you're beautiful!"  Jenny said, shaking Sangeeta's hand in turn.

"This is my stepsister Millie."

"Is it your baby?"  Sangeeta asked her.

"Yes, isn't she beautiful?  She's just four months old."  Millie said, beaming.

"And last but not least, the dog's name is Manny."

Many shuffled over and stuffed his nose straight into Sangeeta's crotch.  He was a good fellow, but we've never been able to break him of that embarrassing habit.

Everyone laughed, and things were okay.

Later, after dinner, Sangeeta and I went downstairs to my room.  I'd built it in the cellar, but since the house was on a slope I had a window into the garden.

There was plenty of space, a shower and toilet, and a double bed.

There was an awkward moment; we hadn't even kissed, we'd only known each other for a few hours.

"It's a little bit too soon." She said, looking at the bed. "I've had a really heavy day, I just split up with my boyfriend and I'm still on UK time."

"We don't have to do anything."  I said reassuringly.

She looked at me and smiled wearily; "Thanks."  She said.

We stripped down to our underwear and got into the bed from opposite sides.

Of course it was hard to sleep, every fiber of my being was aware of the gorgeous woman sharing my bed.  But eventually, I dozed off.

In the morning I woke up alone; I put on the bathrobe and went upstairs to find Sangeeta in the kitchen chatting with Jenny and Millie over breakfast.

"Good morning sleepy head."  Sangeeta said to me, as if we'd known each other for years.

"I have to get to work."  I groaned.

Our second night sleeping together, she cuddled up against me.

  "Is it all right?"  She asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.  I could feel her thighs against my ass and her breasts against my back.

"Absolutely."  I said.

"I mean just to cuddle a little bit, and not do anything else."  She said.

"Sure.  It's nice."  I said.

Her fingers played with my chest hairs, and then stroked my belly.  After a while, she started playing with my cock.

Of course I wanted to roll over and take her face in my hands, wrap my arms around her and kiss her.  Her fingers light touch on my hard penis was electrifying, but I lay there passively, letting her choose her own timing

"It's lovely."  She said. "Would you like a blow job?"

Well, what's a guy to say?

I rolled onto my back, and reached out to turn on the bedside light.  I wanted to watch.

The exotic stranger who had invaded my household looked up at me with dark mischievous eyes as her beautiful mouth closed over my stiff rod.  She sucked gently, exquisitely.

I'd never had a blow job like that one.  It was as if she was enjoying herself more than I was.  She sucked me slowly, making it last.  She toyed with my balls and looked into my eyes.

Everything seemed to be concentrated in my cock; the whole universe, my soul, my energy was in my penis in her lovely mouth, hard nearly to the point of pain.

It was a pleasure so intense, so overwhelming, that I was afraid of the inevitable conclusion; because then it would have to stop.

But after spending two days with Sangeeta, I was more horny than I'd ever been in my life.  Before long, I had to come.

She held me tight as my balls contracted in her hand, and all the strength in my body seemed to be concentrated in my cock as my ejaculate gushed into her willing mouth.

She held me for a minute or so after I was through, and then got out of bed and went to the sink to spit and rinse out her mouth.

She turned towards me and smiled. She was only wearing a bra and panties; I'd never seen such beauty before in my life.

"That was lovely." She said.

"It was pretty good for me too." I told her.

She snuggled up behind me again as I turned out the light.

A girl should have some self respect

That's what they say at least.

Of course, respecting yourself doesn't mean that you'll get respect from anyone else.  People judge, rightly or wrongly; the best way for a woman like me to avoid disrespect is to simply to make sure no one knows me too well.

Which means I haven't ever told anyone about the things I've done, even though I'm not ashamed about it.

I've never been a prostitute.  And I'm no slut either.

But I've agreed to have sex with men who had what I wanted; mostly money.  Not that I wanted their money for myself.  Well, of course I did, but like I said I'm not a prostitute.

I was content with what the money could buy for me; nice clothes, good food, travel.

When I first left home at 16, I had all kinds of ideals.  Let me tell you how I lost them.

I was out with my boyfriend, he was two years older than me.  I thought of him as an older guy back then.  I was so naïve.

We went for a trip from where we were living in Manchester , up to Scotland for the weekend.  He waited until we were checked into our room before he told me that he'd been fooling around with another woman. A bitch I hated actually.

I was outraged! How could he do that to me?

I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the room. 

It felt good, so I kept going.  I walked right down the street, stuck my thumb out, and climbed into a passing tradesmen's van.

"Where are you off too, love?"  The man asked.

" Manchester ."  I answered.

"That's a fair stretch.  I can drop you off at the motorway."

It was Saturday afternoon, there was hardly any traffic.  I walked down the motorway holding my thumb out whenever I heard a car coming behind me, but no one stopped.

I was going to go and get my things and move out of Jeremy's place I decided. I didn't know where I could go, but I was going. I'd been true to him since I moved in with him a year before, because I thought that was how people should be. But now I saw things differently; men made passes at me every day, I could do much better than Jeremy.

My feet were soon killing me.  I wasn't much of a walker, and I wasn't wearing sensible shoes.  I walked into a rest area and sat down.  The walk and my anger had left me exhausted; I dozed off for a little while.  When I woke up, it was starting to rain.  It was getting dark.  And it was cold.

I bundled myself up in my light jacket, but I was soon shivering.  The nights up there can be very unfriendly.  I walked across the grass back out to the edge of the highway, but there was nothing moving.  It was soon pitch black.  Finally, I saw a lorry coming; that's a truck to you Americans.  I don't think he even saw me, he pulled over into the rest area I had just left and shut down his engine.

I stood and waited, the rain finding its way down under my collar until I was soaked through.

I was beginning to feel faint, and suddenly I realized that this was serious.  People do die of exposure.

I walked through the bushes, cutting across to where the big lorry was parked.  I climbed on the step and knocked on the door.

After a moment, the window wound down, and a grizzled head poked through.

"What?"  He grunted.

"I'm freezing."  I told him simply. "Will you let me in?"

I don't think he could even see me, but he could hear from my voice that I was female.  The door opened and I climbed into the warm cab.    

He switched on a light, and we could see each other.

He looked pretty surprised, finding himself suddenly alone with a curvy brown teenager in his truck.  I had huge breasts then, even bigger than I have now.  They bulged out at him, and his eyes bulged back.

My host was barely taller than I was, bald, three days of gray stubble on his chin, and a thick middle.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"  He asked suspiciously.  I suppose he thought I was either an illegal immigrant or a whore.

I told him, more or less.

"You'd better get your wet clothes off, lass."  He said, leering at me.

Behind the driver's seat was a small cot that he'd just been lying in.  There was a thick quilt and a pillow.  There was no heat source, and I could feel the small space cooling down rapidly.  There was only one possible way to get warm, and that was to share that quilt.

So where was the self respect now?  I'd stormed out of a perfectly nice bed and breakfast, because I refused to admit the truth; that I was a kept woman. Because I'd put my ego ahead of everything else.

Now, I was giving myself away in return for a stranger's body heat.

The rain pounded on the tin roof, the wind laughed at my insignificance.  Outside was death, inside was a dirty old man.

Given a choice between self respect and staying alive, some people chose the former.  Not me; I'm not that stupid.

I peeled off my wet clothes, draping them over the passenger seat.  The old man took off his clothes too, and got into the small bed to wait for me.

I didn't even know his name, I didn't know where he was from, I didn't know anything and I didn't particularly want to.

Was it horrible?  Actually, no.

He was warm, he put his arms around me and held me tight against himself.  He stank slightly, he was hairy, he was fat.  I didn't care, because he was warm, and that's what I needed at that moment. It felt good to lie on top of him, to feel the heat from his body warming me. That heat was everything just then; I was expecting to feel revulsion, but actually I felt great. In the cold darkness of the Yorkshire night, I'd found a man to take care of me.

His rough hands stroked my body, he kissed my neck and then my mouth, I could feel his hard cock against my belly.

And I realized something; at this moment, I needed him.  And I was willing to let him have me in return.  Because that's what I had to offer, that's all I've ever had to offer.  I'd never given it away that cheap before, and I never have since; but that night, I shared a bed with a man just for the bed itself.

There was no point in trying to refuse him, not once it had gone that far.  I've never been raped, but trying to say no to him at that moment might have changed that.

So I put one hand on his cock, and the other one behind his neck.  I wondered if it would even be good?  If I could enjoy this somehow?

Because if I could, then I could pretend to myself that I wasn't doing it because I had to, but I was doing it because I wanted to. A thin veil of respect over my young nakedness.  

His cock was hot and big, but I was a little bit put off by the way his tongue was hunting for my tonsils.  I started hunting for his, so he would know what it was like.

That was about the time I thawed out, and my brain seemed to start working again.

I hardly even knew where I was, and I was lying naked on top of a naked stranger, tongue wrestling.  My hands were wrapped around his head and genitals, his were wrapped around my ass, his swollen cock was hot against my belly.  It didn't matter what stupid mistakes I'd made to land myself in this situation, the fact was that I was about to have sex with this fat old guy, and there wasn't much I could do to avoid it.

I've always been the kind of girl who takes things as they come.  I did my best to just relax and get into it.

There was no room in the little bed for much other than straight sex, not without losing the quilt anyway.

He clamped his rough hands around my tight teenaged ass, pulling me higher. I knew what he wanted; my tits.

Men [and even some women] were crazy about them. I'm not bragging, it's just true, I had a huge pair of tight knockers.

The grizzled truck driver pulled a nipple into his mouth and began to suck.

I held myself above him and let him do his thing. I'd had one other boyfriend before Jeremy, but this was the first time I'd been with a mature man. I wondered if they all had this suck fetish.

His fingers were poking around my bottom and his cock was hot between my thighs. I didn't really want this, I didn't want sex with this old stranger; but there was something oddly exciting about it.

He seemed to want to suck my tits all night, my nipples were getting sore and I was pretty tired. I decided to move things along.

I took his cock in my hand and started to rub it up and down against my clit, to lubricate myself. 

It's hard to admit this, but by then I was actually enjoying it a little bit.  It was something wild and erotic about it, it was about as spontaneous as sex could get.  He had a nice cock, and the way he sucked my tits made me oddly hot for him.

There's some weird idea people should have something in common, but I've had some of the most exciting sex in my life with people that were totally different to me.

Not that my night in the stuffy truck cab was that good, but it was all right.

He rolled us over so he was on top; he pushed against me, poking me, hunting for the spot.  I held it there and opened myself, I spread my legs for him.

He hadn't turned the light off, so I closed my eyes.  It was better that way. It was strange that he fit so easily between my thighs, me being so small and him so fat.

His penis was nice at least; I've never cared much about that, size and so on I mean. But the truck driver had a nice one, and I can still remember it pushing into me.

It was a turning point in my life I suppose, that moment. It was the beginning of my new existence, the new Sangeeta had arrived. From that point on, Self respect meant getting what I wanted, and if that meant letting a man have some fun, it wasn't going to be a problem.

After all, here I was letting myself be taken for next to nothing, and it didn't feel bad at all.

The stranger's big penis slid into my middle, it filled my little body; that part was definitely nice.  The weight of his big body on top of me pushed me into the mattress, and it was beautifully warm.

I suppose it's strange to say, but I felt safe at last.  I hadn't even realized how afraid I was when I found myself in the cold darkness outside, but now I knew I would be all right.

Because that was the deal, that's what happens when a girl lets a guy have her; he has his fun, but then he has to take care of her.  Not necessarily forever, but at least through the night.

I stroked his hairy back as he began to give it to me.  He had an easy energetic movement, the rough health of the working class.

  Pounding, poking, pumping.  Outside, the rain and wind lashed against the side of the truck, somehow contrasting with the hot anonymous sex going on inside.  I expected him to come, but he didn't.

I'd only had a couple of boyfriends, both teenagers like me.  Neither of them could fuck for more than a minute without coming.

That's when I found out about old guys; they might not look as nice, or have the energy of a young guy, but they do have this.

We sure were warm now, the old man was giving it to me as hard as he could.  And in that dark cold place, on that cold Highland night, I felt my body begin to tighten around him, I felt that pleasant heat in my belly.

His hot fat body was heaving above me, jamming that big cock into me again and again. He was old and almost ugly, but I didn't care. Why should I? He had what I needed, and he was giving it to me.  Shelter, protection, the heat of his body, the penetrating energy of his stiff penis.

I had no family you see, no security at all, no one had ever truly loved me.  But since my breasts grew out, men sure fancied me.

  I wasn't going to be poor any more I decided. I was through with guys like Jeremy who didn't have what I wanted. From that point onwards, I was going to find men who could provide for me, and I was going to enjoy it.  If I could enjoy myself with this gnarled old stranger, then I was somehow free.  

Free to live my life however I chose, free to choose my lovers by my own criteria, according to what they could do for me.

And I came.

I held the truck driver tight, I pushed my clit against the shaft of his cock, I wrapped my feet around his ass.

His sandpaper jaw scraped against my cheek as he grunted and wheezed with exertion, but he wasn't through yet.

I put my feet back on the lumpy mattress so I could push my hips upwards to meet each of his insistent strokes.  I wanted him to come now, I wanted to feel him ejaculate into my body.  I wanted to give him the same pleasure he was giving me, I wanted to share myself with him. I might not be getting very much from this particular man, but I'd have whatever he would give me.  And in return, he had to come.

He kissed me again, his tongue as eager to enter me as his cock; and I started to come again.

And as I did, as I was peaking on that primal organic high, I felt the old man started to jerk and shudder, and I felt his juices flooding into me.

I felt no regret or shame. He had taken advantage of me, but that could cut two ways.

Slowly, his big body relaxed.  He rolled over, and I climbed on top of him.  We slept like that, with my head on his breast and one of his legs between my thighs.

In the cold grey light of morning, he looked even less attractive; but that wasn't important to me just then.

"Drive me to London ." I said as he started the engine.

"That's not where I'm headed love." He said.

"I don't care. Take me to London , and I'm not spending another night in that little bunk either. You can get us a room tonight. I want a hot bath."

The grizzled old truck driver looked from my teenaged face down to my oversized chest.

"I suppose it's just a day of extra driving." He said.

"And you need a shave." I added.

I never went back to Manchester , I never saw Jeremy again. I got rid of my regional accent too.

I spent another 2 days and nights with Henry the truck driver. He was alright in his way; we both knew what the score was, it had a certain honesty.

Of course it was much more civilized in a hotel room, even a cheap one that he could afford. I like to have a bath first, and a shower after.

He was a decent bloke in his way, and pretty randy.

We had lots of sex; I actually quite enjoyed myself with him. He was different; old and ugly, but considerate and terribly eager to please.

There was something exciting and sexy about running off with a complete stranger; making him do what I wanted so that he could get what he wanted from me in return. It was empowering.

But we both knew it was only for a few days; that it would end before it got old, which it would have done pretty quickly.

I suppose it sounds odd, but I regretted the blow job.

It was too soon, we hadn't dated enough yet.

We were only sleeping together in the literal sense, we had a lot of chemistry but somehow seduction needs to take its own time.

I normally enjoyed my work, but I couldn't stand it knowing that Sangeeta was waiting for me at home.  Instead of my usual preference for overtime, I was washing up at five o'clock when my buddy Jason said "Holy fucking shit, look at that."  I turned around to see that it was Sangeeta walking into the garage with my dog.

She was wearing a stretch green minidress that clung to her body, and high heels.  The dress was so short, you thought you could see more than you really could; she looked like one of the poster girls stuck to the workbench wall.

"What would you give to fuck her?"  Jason continued ignorantly.

"Just about anything I suppose."  I answered, drying my hands and walking out to meet her.

I was still wearing my coveralls, so I couldn't hug her. She took my face in her hands and kissed me on the mouth.

"What are you doing here?"  I asked.

"Manny needed to go out for a walk, so I thought I'd come meet you."  She said.

"But how did you find the place?"

"A phonebook and a map, it wasn't hard." She said, "But it was a bit farther than I'd thought, my feet are killing me."

It was a proud moment for me, all the guys I worked with stared enviously as we left together.

I could write a hundred pages about her, about the all the tiny things she did that turned me on.  Her humor, her laughter, her bright clear eyes, her great smile.

But I suppose everyone just wants to know about her big breasts, tight ass, and the things she did to me in bed.

I drove her up to a little spot I knew, and reached for her across the front seat.  She slid over, and we kissed.

We hadn't kissed before that.  We slept together twice, she'd sucked me off, but we hadn't kissed.

It was beautiful; it was what I wanted to do, even more than fucking her, I wanted to hold her like this and just kiss her.  My hands gently stroking her naked shoulders, I wanted to taste her sweet lips forever.

Her mouth was like a flower, her light brown lips so succulent, I never wanted to release them.

From the back seat, Manny barked and whimpered.

"It's his dinner time."  Sangeeta laughed.

We drove back home.

The whole family loved her.

She helped Jennifer in the kitchen, and Millie with the baby.  She had a laugh with dad, and got him a beer from the fridge as if she was one of us already.

After dinner, Sangeeta was playing with the baby.

"She really takes to you." Millie said.

"They can tell who likes them." Sangeeta said, "I'm crazy about babies.  Maybe it's because I can't have one of my own."

"Why not?"  Jennifer asked.

"I did something really stupid when I was younger." Sangeeta said, "I did some work in a film, and got a nasty little infection."

"What kind of film work did that?"  Dad asked.

Sangeeta looked up and smiled sadly; "Think about it for a moment and you'll know."  She said. "Everyone had been tested they told me, completely safe they said.  Anyway, after that I decided that it was never going to be without protection, not until I'm married." She paused for a moment, no one seemed to know what to say. "Of course, I'm not the kind of girl that men marry."  She concluded with a self conscious laugh.

Later, in the privacy of my bedroom, the two of us undressed on opposite sides of the bed.

"Are you shocked?"  She asked me.

"A little bit."  I admitted.

"That I did it, or that I told everyone?"  She asked, slipping underneath the covers.

"Both."  I answered.

We still hadn't made love; we both slept naked in a common bed, and it wasn't that we didn't want to.  It just hadn't been time yet.

I was about to turn out the lights, when I saw that she was starting to cry.  That surprised me; Sangeeta was such a confident, brash, open person. It was hard to imagine she would ever cry.

"What's the matter?"  I asked her softly.

"I always fuck things up."  She said, "I don't know why I do it, it must be some kind of neurosis or something.  Your family has been really great, the way they accepted me.  And then somehow I compulsively tell them about that silly film, and now they'll probably hate me."

"I don't think so."

"Come on Joey, no one wants their son to have a relationship with a woman like me."

I slid over to her, and pulled her head onto my shoulder.  I brushed the hair away from her face, and looked into her sad eyes.  Her big gorgeous sexy sad eyes.

"Let me tell you about my family."  I said, "My stepmother Jennifer is a recovering alcoholic.  She lost everything she had, she was living in a homeless shelter for a while.

My dad has a gambling problem.  He gambled away his life insurance, pension, the house I grew up in, my college fund too.

"My sister Millie used to be so fat, that she was five months pregnant before she even noticed.  Now she's a teenaged single mother, she doesn't even know who the dad is.

And me?  I got thrown out of high school for dealing marijuana in my senior year.  I was denied my degree, and lost any chance of going to college.

"So you see Sangeeta, none of us is in any position to judge you.  It might even be the other way around, I think you might be too good for us."

Her face was so close to mine, her lips seemed to beg me for her kiss.

And then it was time; time for sex, Time for love.

Her hand went to my cock, mine went around her back, our mouths found each other.

Her voluptuous curvaceous form melted against my larger stronger body, and for that moment, she was mine.

The feeling of her skin against me seemed to set every nerve on delicious edge, she was soft and compliant in my hands, she smelled wonderful, my cock was like iron.

She was totally exotic to me, I'd never been with a colored girl before.

We kissed for a while, as she stroked my cock gently, teasing me, tickling me.

I reached into the bedside drawer and took out a condom.  She took the packet from me and ripped it open.  Her soft little hands rolled the rubber down my stiff cock, and then she settled back and opened her knees in the greatest invitation a man can receive.

.  I rolled over above her, and she pulled my cock against herself, she rubbed me up and down her damp middle. I gently and slowly pushed myself into her fine little body.

She arched her back and laced her fingers around my ass, digging her nails in sharply.

"You're so beautiful."  I told her.

"So are you."  She smiled back.

All I wanted to do was pleasure her; make her feel my desire, my admiration for her. 

I kissed her again as I started to slide my cock in and out of her with long, hard, steady strokes.

Her small body tightened around my cock, her breath shortened, her hands grasped at my back.  My exotic beauty came, and her orgasm was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced.

I had to stop for a moment to avoid ejaculating too soon, but then the moment passed and I was able to continue.

The bed was creaking below her, we were bouncing all over the place together.  She was pushing upwards each time I pushed downwards, her hands clamped my face and there was fire in her dark almond eyes.

She came a second time, and then rolled me over onto my back.

I put my hands on her hips as she straddled me, her hands pushing down against my shoulders and her breasts swinging just above my chest as she lifted her bottom up and down against my rod.

I crammed my neck and pulled one of her full dark breasts into my mouth.  I sucked her nipple as she moaned in soft passion.

She moved faster, her clitoris jamming hard against the base of my penis.  I knew she was going to come again, and just knowing that she was about to have her third orgasm turned me on so much, there was no stopping me this time.

I pulled her down against myself as we shared our climax.  I held her firm little body in my arms, I stroked her perfect round ass and she kissed my mouth as we both shuddered with the intensity of our feelings.

We stayed like that for a while, Sangeeta lying on top of me with my face in her hands, kissing each other gently as our bodies cooled.

It was the greatest sex I'd ever known, but nothing compared to what we got up to in the days and weeks that followed.

"I think I love you."  I said.

"Don't be silly."  She replied.

At five o'clock the next afternoon, the boys at the garage were breaking out the customary Friday case of beer as I was leaving.

"Hey Joey, what's your hurry?"  My boss asked with a laugh.

"If I had that sweet thing waiting for me at home, I'd be out of here too."  Healy said.

I didn't even bother to get mad.  He was always saying stupid shit like that, and I couldn't blame anyone for being jealous.

At home, I found Sangeeta in the kitchen cooking a curry.  My baby nephew was in his cot on the kitchen table, asleep.  No one else was home yet.

My lover put her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

"Careful, I haven't changed yet!"  I said.

I actually enjoy repairing cars; but the pay is shit, and you can't help getting very grimy during the day.

"I don't care, I want a kiss!" She declared, kissing me again.

It's hard to express the euphoria I felt as I held her in my arms; her curvy soft feminine body tightened against me, her lips eager for me, her fingers in my hair. I'd never had a girl like her before, not even close.

"You said something very sweet to me last night, and I called it silly."  She said.

"It doesn't matter."  I said.

"Of course it does." She said, "I'm really flattered Joey, but we've only just met.  And I guess it's not really a word that has great connotations for me."

The mysterious stranger who had invaded my life and my heart kissed me again, so I wouldn't be able to answer.  Then she broke away, pushing me off of herself with a laugh.

"I have to get back to my cooking, everyone will be home soon."  She said.

The family always ate together, but we rarely ate anything that took too long to prepare.  With everyone working, there just wasn't a lot of time to spend in the kitchen.

After dinner, I was just finishing washing the dishes, when Sangeeta sidled up behind me.

"Meet me downstairs in 15 minutes."  She breathed into my ear, grabbing my ass at the same time for emphasis.

It was only nine o'clock, but I said goodnight to everyone.

Down in my room, I found Sangeeta already in bed.  She was wearing a powder blue négligée and her hair was brushed out.  She smelled of a sweet subtle perfume, and her smile of anticipation was the sexiest sight I'd ever seen.

"Undress slowly."  She instructed me.

She sat up to watch, her brown breasts standing forward and clearly visible through the gauzy fabric.  She stroked her thigh with one hand idly as I looked into her eyes and slowly took my clothes off.

When I was naked, my cock stood hard, pointing at Sangeeta in anticipation.

She stared at it; "My God, just thinking about it gets you stiff!"  She laughed. "Dance for me."

"What?" I asked.

"Dance! I want to see your cock bounce."

She laughed in delight as I did her bidding, my stiff rod bobbing and swaying as I shock my hips.

I crawled into the bed with her, and she took my cock in her hand as we kissed.  She stroked me gently, she tickled my balls and pinched my nipple with her other hand.

I pushed her back onto the cushions, and moved my face down between her legs.

She'd shaved, her groin was perfectly smooth.  I brushed my lips slowly along her clit, I kissed her lower lips before beginning to gently lick her.

"That's nice."  She said approvingly.

Her taste was wonderful, the sensation of her smooth thighs against my cheeks, her fingers in my hair, her delicious vagina in my mouth seemed perfect.  I didn't want to stop, I didn't want to do anything else.  I was happy there, perfectly content.  I could have just taken up residence there and stayed for a year or two. I could feel her ass clenching in my hands, she moved her pelvis around and held my head tightly in her hands as my tongue invaded her.

I didn't know how long she would stay with me. I knew I could never meet her expectations, I knew she liked the good life.  She was an erotic model, the girlfriend of a millionaire, a goodtime girl.

I was just a poor schlock who lived with his parents in a grimy suburb, a car mechanic and part-time limo driver, nobody.

So I had to make the most of our time together, I had to make her come a hundred times before she left me, I had to show her that I might not have money, but I did have passion.

So that when she left me, when she went back to her fancy friends and her comfortable pampered life, at least she wouldn't forget me too soon.

Her small fingers squeezed harder, her sharp nails bit into my skull, she was pushing her brown crotch hard against my mouth as I pushed my tongue up and down her clitoris as hard as I could.

She might think love was silly, but that didn't mean it couldn't affect her. 

Sangeeta came.

She writhed sensuously below me as I continued to lick her, softly now.

It was still early, we had lots of time.

I started to lick her harder again, and again she began to crush my face against her groin, again her legs wrapped around my neck, and I clamped her ass hard in my hands as I felt her orgasm pulsing through her lovely little brown body.

I had to put my cock in her then; I knew I could make her come that way, and that way was simply the best.

I hate condoms.  In that perfect moment, all I needed to do was move a couple of feet, and push my hard cock into her wet open vagina.  But we don't do that; no, it has to be safe.

She rolled the rubber over my dick quickly, and not too much was lost.

I put my sheathed rod against her willing entrance, and pushed easily into her.

Silly, was it?  Then what was that look in her eyes, what was the expression on her face?  I might be a loser, but I know a silly emotion when I see it.

I was no virgin; I may not have had as much experience as Sangeeta had, but I'd had a few flings.

Some were good, a couple of them were disasters, but none of them were like this.

This feeling I had, this fluttering in my belly, a choking in my throat, my eyes burning just looking at her.

My cock was quivering inside her, my fingers and toes were tingling.

I was 25 years old, and in my short life I had never known a moment like this.  The pure primal intensity, every fiber of my being only existing to make her mine forever, even while I knew that in reality my chances were close to zero.

So I fucked her; with long hard strokes, I demonstrated my virility, I showed her my strength. I pounded her, I nearly lifted her tight rear off the mattress at the end of each stroke.

Her fingers dug into my shoulder blades, and her dark eyes shone.  Her tight little body bounced at my powerful impacts, and before long I was making her come again.

I had to stop, I couldn't take any more.  Sangeeta grinned at me, appreciating my efforts at restraint.  Then she pushed me away, my cock slipped out of her body.

She rolled me onto my back and climbed above me, she took my dick in her hands and slid herself down around it.

I fondled her breasts through the thin negligee, her stiff chocolate nipples called my lips.

She leaned forward as I peeled the garment off of her, and her full breast fell into my mouth.

I stroked her back and suckled her as she lifted her bottom up and down, my stiff rod sliding in and out of her.

She growled, she groaned, she sighed.  How could it be this good?  Was this normal for her?  Did she get off like this with other guys?  Was I just a momentary distraction for her, a week off, or was there more?

She grabbed my wrists in her hands, her pelvis moving back and forth hard against my cock, but not up-and-down anymore.  Her black hair tickled my face, she looked down at me, looked into my eyes, and then came again.

She lifted herself off my dick, and sat herself down next to me.

"Let's take a little break."  She suggested, settling her head on my shoulder and tracing her fingers are crossed my belly and chest.

My cock was twitching in protest, but it was a good idea.  Why should we have foreplay, then sex, then just stop?  Why not foreplay, then sex, then more foreplay?  Or would that be midplay?

It was fantastically sensual, to kiss her and stroke her, the anticipation so much better than the actual familiar ejaculation.

"What do you feel?"  She asked me in a whisper.

"Very silly."  I answered.

She laughed, making her breasts wobble. "Me too."  She said.

She rolled onto her belly and lifted her beautiful rear end up into the air in clear invitation.  I got behind her and slid my cock into her tight twat again.  I held her hip bones as we bounced off each other.  I didn't like not being able to see her face, but she had a beautiful back.  The indentations to either side of her spine, her slim neck, her thick black hair.

She didn't come easily in that position, but I gave it all I had, as fast and hard as I was able, and was able to squeeze one last little orgasm from her.

"Just what is it you're trying to do to me?"  She demanded playfully as she slipped out from under me and rolled over again.

She grabbed the base of my cock, and then peeled the condom off with her other hand. She lifted her thigh over my face, and settled herself down against me as she slid her lips around my naked penis.  I put my arms around her waist, pulling her down against my face as I felt my cock slide into her throat.

I tried to relax, I let every muscle in my body goes slack except for my forearms and tongue.

Her fingers toyed with my balls, then with my anus.  Her lips moved up and down over the crown now, and her finger penetrated my ass.

It was a very weird, very wild sensation; crazy and kinky.

There was absolutely no way I could stop myself now, my balls contracted and my stomach tensed.  I clamped her round ass in my fingers as I began to come in her mouth.

I'd never made love to a woman so intensely or for so long before, and I never had an orgasm as powerful before either.

It didn't seem to stop, even when I had no more fluid, the spasms kept fluttering through me. 

Sangeeta kept sucking, while stroking my nuts and jiggling her finger in my ass. I was like a whirlpool, all of me draining out the end of my dick, flowing into Sangeeta's pretty mouth, as she teased every last bit of climax from me.

Yes, she was an expert.  She knew how to get the most from a man, and how to give the most at the same time.

I looked at her with mixed emotions; she was a harlot, a porn queen, and a true beauty. She was the fuck of a lifetime, and I was crazy for her.

Yet at the same time, my feelings were tainted by her very expertise; she was so good at it, an expert of sex. A girl didn't get that good without a lot of practice.

Like she once said, she wasn't the kind of girl men married.  But she was the girl men wanted.

She rolled onto her side, and let my cock fall out of her mouth.  Her head rested on my leg, and mine rested on hers.

"You're the best."  She said.

I didn't know what to say; the best out of how many?  Still, I have to admit I was flattered. There was no denying that she'd had as intense as experience as I had.

We cuddled in bed, and she told me more about herself.

****************************************************************

"I didn't know a soul in London, I had 10 pounds in my pocket and a change of clothes.

I left my bags in a locker at the train station, and wandered into The City, where the stock exchange and the banks are.

Men scurried about, men in expensive suits wearing gold watches and carrying Gucci briefcases.  Most of them were even good-looking.

I sat on a park bench and watched them for a little while, getting in and out of cars and walking from one office to another.  I swear, if any of them had just raised an eyebrow at me I would have fallen onto my back with my legs up in the air.

It was like looking into the window of a fancy jewelry shop, being so close to what I wanted but knowing I couldn't have it.  Men like that didn't take chances with girls like me, 17-year-old trouble on the hoof.

I might not have had much education, but I had instinct.  Somehow, I found what I needed.

That night in a club in another part of town, I met Julian.

He wasn't exactly what I wanted, but he was what I could get.  He was good looking and well dressed, but slightly shaggy around the edges.  Mostly, he was available.

"Where are you from?"  He asked me, since my accent wasn't local.

" Manchester ."  I told him.

"Where are you staying?"  He asked.

"I don't know yet."  I said.

He laughed; it was about 10 p.m.

By midnight, we were back at his place.

I was really excited, I'd only been with two blokes before him remember.

It wasn't just about having sex with him, it was about being in his flat, using his shower, sleeping in his bed.  It was about the prospect of living with him, even if it was only going to be for a few days.  It was about my new life, freedom.

We were complete strangers, he was about 25, middle-class and white. It didn't matter though; he was willing to feed and house me.

But we didn't have sex.  We slept together, but he didn't touch me.  I was so wound up, I almost slid over to initiate things myself, but that's not the kind of thing a girl does.  Even a homeless little slut like I was.

I stayed with him.  He had plenty of dosh, money that is, and we got on quite well.  At first, I thought he was a poof, gay.  But it turned out he was a junkie.  Addicted to heroin.

You probably think you can spot a heroin junkie a mile away, but you can't.  Almost nobody knew about Julian.  He was very particular about his food and exercise, even though he was rarely hungry and always lethargic.  That's how he kept healthy.

He loved me, but he loved his drug more. 

We did make love, in a way.  He liked to hold me, we would kiss and cuddle.  He would even go down on me, so it's not like I didn't have any satisfaction while I was with him; but no matter what I did, his cock wouldn't get hard.

He told me that some guys get impotent from heroine, some don't.

He dealt drugs for living, but not heroin.  He wouldn't give me any either, even though I wanted to try it.  He sold almost anything else.

We went out every night, and I'd dance as he made his deals in the club.  He liked everyone to know I was his girlfriend, because I was pretty hot.  I was always dressed up with high-heeled shoes, stockings, and a short skirt.  A teenaged Indian girlfriend was a definite status symbol for a guy like him. Image was important in his business and his social scene as well.

I fell in love with him after a while.  I knew I shouldn't, it had to be a disaster; but he was good to me in just about every way a man could be [except one].

I begged him to get off heroin, but he didn't have the slightest interest in kicking his habit.

After I'd been living with him for a couple of years, we got robbed at gunpoint.  Julian was left owing 100,000 pounds to his cocaine connection.

It's not like in the movies you know; when they tell you to pay up by Friday or they kill you.  But Julian agreed to pay them 5000 pounds a week until his debt was covered.  The problem was, he didn't always earn that much.

That's when I started modeling.

At first, it was pretty innocent.  Just roll around naked on the bed while they took pictures of me, and I was paid 5000.

But after a couple of sessions, they weren't interested anymore.  Everyone had seen my ass already.

So then it was with another woman.  We didn't really do anything with each other, and the pay was the same.

A couple of months later, when money was short again, I went back to the agency to try to get more work.  They told me I could get 8000 pounds for full penetration with a man.  That was the only offer.

The fridge was empty, the rent wasn't paid, and we were about to have our electricity turned off. The drug debt was always paid first.

The guy was a musclebound idiot with a stupid grin and a huge cock.  I reminded myself of how two years before I had spent the night with a truck driver for a warm bed and a lift, and I tried to convince myself that this was no big deal.  I certainly didn't have to worry about what anybody thought.  I didn't even know who my father was, and if she ever found out and it upset my bitch mother, I couldn't care less.

Everything was kind of cold and clinical, until I had to take his cock in my hand.

God, it was big.  And stiff.  I only had to put it in my mouth and hold it there while they took the pictures, but I couldn't resist stroking him.  I'd forgotten how exciting a hard penis can be.

I wasn't bothered by the photographer or his assistants, and I started to enjoy myself.  Yes, I loved Julian; but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy myself with this hunk.  We started to get into it, doing things spontaneously without the photographer even telling us.  He fingered me and we kissed; he rolled me over and spread me open, he put his naked cock between my legs.

I wanted it, but I was afraid.  I hadn't done it for two years, and it was very big.

He pushed it in carefully, and I have to admit it was a bit painful at first.

I really wanted him to fuck me, but the photographer told him to stay still for the photographs.  It was pretty aggravating really.

But in the end, the photographer told him to go for it.  I can't even remember the guy's name, but I do remember that orgasm.  It was the first good hard shag I'd had since getting to London .

He was about twice my size, but I was his match.  I took all he could give me, that big white cock was feeling pretty good. 

There's something weird and exciting about doing it with a total stranger.  Girls aren't supposed to do that sort of thing, and most will tell you that they don't, they never would, etc.

But I've done it more than once, and I don't mind telling either.

It's not the warm gooey kind of feeling you get from having sex with someone you know well and really like.  It's more raw and primal, it feels great but at the same time you know it's dangerous.

The muscled hunk pounded me, the feeling of his cock entering and leaving me, again and again, was fantastic.  I'd never had a boyfriend with a big cock.  Well, of course I didn't know about Julian, since he never got an erection while I was with him.  You can't tell how big it gets when it's hard from its size when it's soft you know.  Take Joey for instance, sometimes it's as small as my thumb, but when he's erect he's got nothing to be ashamed of.

Anyway, back to the photo shoot; the guy rolled me over so I was on top, and I let him suck my tits as I enjoyed myself sitting on his rod.  I could hear the camera clicking away, but I didn't care.  I stuck my tongue down his throat and bucked my hips back and forth as I came.

I didn't realize how much I'd missed sex.

He rolled me over, pulled out, and came in my face, which was gross.

I didn't feel very good about the whole thing afterwards, but the money sure was welcome.

We could barely pay the rent, and I had to shop for bargains and cook at home.  But Julian wouldn't stop injecting heroin; exactly the same amount every day, at exactly the same times.

I was offered a lot of money to do a movie.  We could catch up on the payments for the rent and the drug debt.

Most girls, especially Asian girls, just don't do that kind of thing.  They're afraid of what will happen when their mother finds out.  I couldn't give a shit, so I agreed.

I thought it would be great fun, but actually it was about as exciting as a trip to the gynecologist.

I did it with three guys, all at once in the end.  Getting it in the ass was pretty painful at first, but after a while it was okay.  I don't mind giving head, in fact I usually like it.  But somehow it just wasn't sexy with the crew and the lighting and the cameras there.  Or maybe it was those guys I was working with, I think they were all gay or something.  They didn't seem interested in me at all, even while they were fucking me.

I did everything they wanted me to, I even had three cocks in me at the same time. It was weird, but it wasn't sexy to me. We weren't there to have fun, it wasn't about pleasure or satisfaction. It was a way to earn money, and that was ok.

I gave Julian most of the money from the first movie, and then I moved out.  I was tired of playing mistress while he was married to the needle.  And I didn't want to be around when he got ripped off the next time.

It hurt; I know it might sound odd, but I still loved him. He was a hopeless junkie, but he had always been good to me.

I made two more movies over the next year.  It was purely for the money, the sex was really nothing.  But I had a lot of boyfriends during that time, and a lot of fun.

And then I met Harry; the sugar daddy I'd been looking for when I first came to town.

He was a successful stockbroker, he dressed impeccably, he drove a new Mercedes, he wore a gold watch.

Of course he was an older man, it takes time to become so successful.  He was 55, and I was 19.

At first, I let him pick me up just for a bit of fun.  He was surprisingly good in bed, and he liked to buy me things.  Lovely expensive things.

So when he asked me to be his mistress, I agreed.  I knew he was married, I knew he had adult children.  It wasn't something that was supposed to last forever; we would use each other for a few years, he'd take care of the bills and I wouldn't have to do any more porno movies.  In return, I'd be his fancy woman; young, pretty, and available whenever he wanted me."

*******************************************************************

Sangeeta took care of the house as well as my baby niece during the day while the rest of us were at work, as if she had known us all for years instead of just a few days.

On Friday night, I took her out to a local club.

She looked like a million bucks; her makeup, her hair, her tight sexy dress and 4 inch black pumps.

She danced with me and flirted with everyone, and I thought at one point there might even be trouble with a couple of rude bastards; but as I was getting ready to have at them, Sangeeta somehow deftly defused the situation, and we found ourselves outside in the clear evening air.

"That was a blast." She said as we got into my pickup.

It was late by the time we got home, and everyone else was already asleep.  In the privacy of my room, Sangeeta slipped out of her dress.

"I think I should be punished."  She said, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes.

"For what?"  I asked, wondering what she had in mind as I sat down on the bed to unlace my shoes.

"I almost got you in trouble at the club.  You should spank me."  She sulked, and slowly laid herself across my knees.

Gently at first, I struck her fine round bottom.  Then harder, and harder still.

My hot little girlfriend writhed and whimpered, clearly turned on.  When I didn't think either of us could take any more, I stopped.

She slid to the floor, and sat on her knees as she unbuckled my trousers.  I stood up as she pulled them down; she reached into the bedside drawer and took out a condom.

After rolling the rubber sensuously over my willing cock, she got onto the bed on her hands and knees, her legs splayed apart, her shoulders against the mattress and her rear end raised in obvious invitation.

She reached behind with both hands, and pulled her ass cheeks apart; she tickled her anus with one finger.

"It needs a little lubrication."  She said, "There's a jar next to the condoms."

I looked in the drawer, and saw a little bottle of KY jelly had been put there.  I put a bit on my finger and smeared it around her asshole.

I'd never done this before, but she obviously had.

Sangeeta squirmed and whimpered as I pushed my cock carefully into her prepared hole.

It was tight and hot, weird and sexy.  I reached around her thigh to finger her clit, and soon she started to come. 

I fucked her tight round ass as she bucked back to meet each stroke, her grip on my cock was as tight as a fist.

We rolled onto our sides, so I was spooning her from behind. We rested for a few moments, my stiff rod deep inside her as I tickled her breasts and nuzzled her neck. She twisted her head towards me, and we kissed; our mouths so sweet an innocent compared to what we were doing down below.

I started to bang her again, fingering her clit; Sangeeta came. I followed soon afterwards.

It was our first kinky sex, and only the beginning.

"Harry liked it kinky.

I thought I knew everything; well, what 19 year old doesn't? I'd had a dozen boyfriends, and made 3 porno movies. I thought I was the sex queen.

But it was Harry who taught me about kinky sex.

At first it was pretty normal; We'd go out on the town, to better clubs than I used to go to when I was with Julian. Harry liked me to dress slutty so he could show me off. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the attention; the scandalous looks as people realized we were together, a young Asian girl and an older white man.

Then it was back to my place, straight sex, and go to sleep.

On weekends he'd go home to his country house and wife.

But after a couple of months he started bringing me some funny things to wear.

Sexy underwear, corsets, net stockings, suspender belts. High heels, very high heels.

Various uniforms; sometimes I even wore one when we went out. A bunny suit, a cat suit, leathers; doctor, nurse, dominatrix, schoolgirl, maid. You name it, I was it.

Harry liked variety all right.

At first, I hated it when he took me in the ass, but after a while I started to like it, I can't say why. It's different.

He liked me to fool around with other men. Not have sex with them, just wind them up. It made him feel powerful when he would cross the room and tell me it was time to go, and we'd leave together.

I guess I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't enjoying myself, but it was a bit nasty, leading guys on like that, only to leave them frustrated.

Once or twice, I almost refused; I was enjoying myself, kissing a guy and playing with his stiff rod under the table. But Harry paid the bills, he was my guy and I did what he said, even when it was nasty." 

"I called Harry today." Sangeeta told me one day when I got back from work.

I knew it had to happen; I knew she wasn't going to stay with me forever. I was just a distraction, a short episode for her. I could never give her the life she wanted, the life she was accustomed to.

"And?" I asked.

"I'm going back on Thursday." She said quietly, staring at the wall blankly.

I felt a kick in my guts; I might have known in my mind, but the rest of me had refused to believe that she would really leave me.

"Please stay." I told her hopelessly.

She just looked at me sadly. There wasn't much to say.

She had made her choice; to reject the message from her heart, and to accept the one from her head.

We held each other, we kissed and petted, but we didn't have sex again before she left. It was as if she was his again already, and there was suddenly a line that we wouldn't cross.

I drove her to the airport and kissed her goodbye.

"I love you Sangeeta." I whispered in her ear, and then I released her.

She turned away quickly, as if afraid her face would reveal more than she wanted it to.

Pain; that was all I knew after she left me.

She had warned me about love, but I hadn't listened. Now I was left, rejected, my soul in torment.

I dreamt of her at night, I couldn't get her out of my mind during the day. There was a continuous empty burning in my belly that was not hunger.

Her eyes, her voice, her hair, her sexy curvy body... I ached for her with every fiber.

I'd been in love before, but never half that badly. Sangeeta had gotten deep into my heart.

 Ace 2009

The rejection of Sangeeta part 2

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