&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

                Erotica from the INDIAN HEAT archives

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

NOTE: This story may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT 
be sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Copyright 1996-97, 
Mary Jorsay Gandmar
<maryjg@finebody.com>

                          >> DIRTY AMBER <<

                                ( 1 )

    The woman's face was a perfect oval, tapering to  a fine chin. Her
    eyes were elongated, almond-shaped, lined with *kajal* She had
    high  cheekbones and a fine, straight nose. Her mouth was small,
    but her lips were full and  luscious. She had white, even teeth.
    Her hair was thick and lustrous, now tied in a plait  that reached
    her buttocks. Her dusky skin was smooth and clear and soft, the
    colour and  texture of honey. A long, elegant neck led smoothly to
    full, high, ripe breasts, superbly  formed and heavy, like
    succulent mangoes. Her belly was firm and flat, her waist narrow
    and her hips flared just so, to neatly curved buttocks and
    slender, long, elegant legs.  Her arms were smoothly turned, and
    her hands and feet were shapely. She wore a long *mangalsutra*
    around her neck, a *bindi*, gold hoops in her earlobes, gold
    finger-rings, anklets  and toe-rings. She lay naked on a low divan
    in the middle of  the room, crouched on all her forearms and knees
    like the sphinx, her legs folded under  her belly in an obtuse V,
    her head bowed. Silk scarves bound her wrists and ankles to the
    divan. Her dusky skin shimmered with sweat and her chest heaved.
    Her head rose slowly and  she moaned, her fingers scrunching the
    rich tapestry counterpane on which she lay. Her  eyes were hooded
    and her lips fluttered open. She tensed, whimpering softly, and
    her eyes  were wide and glassy. 

    "Please ... hurry ... please ... fuck me! Fuck me  hard!" 

    And then her body jerked forward and her head snapped back  and
    her mouth tore open as if pulled by an invisible string. A long,
    thin shriek erupted  from her throat. Her face twisted and
    contorted and spasmed in agony. Tendons stood out  and strained in
    her long neck and her lips snapped back in a savage rictus. 

    "More!" An exultant male voice cried over hers.  "Shove it in all
    the way, motherfucker! Ram it in!" 

    "Ohhhhhhhh uhhh yes! Ohhh god, yes, uhhhhh Ohhh  yes!" The woman
    cried, her body writhing and shaking, twisting, her chest heaving
    frantically. 

    "Yes! Yes! Do it, bastard! Do it!" 

    The woman shrieked again, louder and longer this time, her  head
    arching violently backward, her back bending steeply down. Behind
    and above her, a  tall, handsome, massively built black man
    gasped, arching his head. He was naked and his  body glistened
    with sweat. He groaned and his taut buttocks flexed and his hips
    slid  forward. His penis was gargantuan, about nine inches long
    and correspondingly thick. It  moved forward, disappearing
    inexorably between the woman's buttocks. She cried out again,  and
    the second male voice chortled gleefully. The penis went in deeper
    and deeper,  seemingly endless. The woman's voice was ragged,
    hoarse, cracked, and her cries came in  choking, broken gasps and
    whimpering, sobbing moans. Her body heaved and writhed. Deeper
    and deeper the penis went till it was inside her fully, buried to
    the hilt. The black man  paused, and the woman whimpered. He
    waited patiently. Her moans gradually dwindled and she  began
    whimpering softly. His big hands slid up her slender, curved body
    to cup her  swollen, pendulous breasts. Her nipples were long and
    stiff in small, dark aureoles. 

    The woman was being sodomised. The man fucking her ass was a
    hired stud, a gigolo. He had been fucking her steadily and
    relentlessly for the past  ninety minutes, almost without respite.
    They were in the sunken living area of her house,  in her home.
    All around them, on all four sides of the divan, there were men
    watching. The  woman was on display, being fucked openly and
    publicly, for the pleasure of the dozen or  so voyeurs. 

    The woman's name was Sayali and she was twenty-four years  old.
    Her husband of six months, Suresh, prowled around the divan,
    goading the gigolo,  urging him to greater heights sexual action.
    The watching men were his friends and  business associates. Now,
    as they chortled and whistled and clapped their approval of the
    performance, he smiled to himself in satisfaction. 

    Sayali was the best thing that had happened to his business.  He
    was a small-time trader in an infernal hurry. Sayali lived
    opposite. He had known her  all his life, but never noticed her.
    Now, needing someone to keep house for him and to  entertain his
    associates he proposed to her. Never in his wildest dreams had he
    imagined  that she would do it so well, or with such astonishing
    results. 

    Suresh realised that his bride was anything but a virgin on  their
    wedding night itself. There was nothing shy or timid in her
    manner, no sign of  hesitation. On the contrary, it was he who
    suddenly felt nervous and unsure. He had only  had one previous
    affair, a short-lived and sexually unsatisfactory relationship
    with one  of the girls in the office several years earlier. She
    was delighted that he was a virgin,  and said she had never fucked
    one before. Suresh thought they were making love, and said  so.
    Bina laughed and told him to stop being idiotic. He could call it
    what he liked, but  they were still only fucking, doing what every
    one of God's creatures did. Intimidated,  Suresh let her take him
    to bed. She was apparently insatiable and over the next few weeks,
    they fucked daily. He enjoyed the sex and her body. The affair
    ended as abruptly as it had  begun. Bina walked out after a few
    weeks, saying that he was a bore in bed, that she  needed a man
    who knew how to fuck. 

    Shaken and frightened, Suresh deliberately kept away from  women,
    and concentrated on his work. He left the company -- the constant
    proximity with  Bina and seeing her contemptuous, pitying glances
    -- was too much to bear. He set up a  small industry in the
    suburbs making aluminum utensils. He began to do well and, under
    pressure from his family -- he was getting older, after all --
    married Sayali. 

    On their wedding night, all his anxieties returned. He  worried
    that he might not satisfy her, that she, too, might reject him. He
    made a first,  fumbling, clumsy attempt, trying to kiss her
    ineptly as she sat on the bed dressed in all  her bridal finery.
    She must have understood the problem for she took over, and he
    felt  incompetent and inexperienced as she worked his body with a
    cunning that took his breath  away. Gently, tenderly, unhurriedly,
    expertly, she aroused him till he was almost  screaming with
    excitement. Her lips and fingers and tongue were everywhere, and
    then she  had his cock in her cunt and it was a hot, tight vortex
    that drew him down, down, down and  drowned him in a sea of
    endless joy. She moaned and panted eagerly as he plunged greedily
    into her flesh and then, to his utter shock, started egging him on
    with a litany of gutter  obscenities. Strangely aroused, he rocked
    deep into her flesh and she cried out in joy and  begged for more.
    Their cataclysmic orgasms were almost simultaneous. 

    Later, snuggling naked on the sweat and lovejuice stained  sheets,
    Suresh kissed her gently, caressing her breast. 

    "Sayali ..." 

    "Mm?" She swirled her tongue over his nipple and  her fingers were
    already crawling down his belly. Her nipple hardened between his
    fingers  and he felt her breast swell and grow turgid with
    excitement. 

    "You're not a virgin. Are you?" 

    Suddenly her lips were hot on his and her body was across  his.
    "Suresh," she whispered. "Don't ask me that. Not tonight.
    Tomorrow,  maybe, and I'll tell you. Not tonight. Tonight, just
    let's enjoy each other." 

    "Tomorrow, then." Suresh was secretly relieved. He  did not really
    want to know. Not that night, not when the magic was all around
    him. 

    "Yes. I promise." 

    Then he moaned softly as her lips engulfed his penis and she
    started again. She was inexhaustible, insatiable and she aroused
    him repeatedly with such  gentle dexterity and skill that he never
    felt otherwise than in full cont It was only  later that he
    realised that it was she, and not he, who had guided their
    lovemaking till  the end, that he had only done what she always
    intended him to do, said what she wanted to  hear, moved to her
    rhythm. 

    The next day, they left for their honeymoon and Suresh was
    hopelessly and passionately in love. At the luxury hotel in
    Kodaikanal -- he could afford  it this once, he had reasoned -- he
    fell on her the minute they arrived and, laughing, she  tormented
    him, teasing and flirting with him till he was mad with lust.
    Then, laughing,  she gave in and he fucked her like one possessed.
    She arched in evidently unfaked pleasure  under him and made him
    go faster, harder, deeper. 

    They fucked all afternoon, slept all evening, skipped  dinner, and
    fucked all night. By three in the morning, they were ravenous and
    he ordered  too much food and drink from room-service. It took
    forty-five minutes to arrive and they  used the time to fuck
    again, and he took her from behind, squatting over her hips and
    pounding his inflamed penis in and out of her cunt, crushing her
    swinging breasts in his  hands. She orgasmed violently and he
    jerked out of her came between her buttocks, on her  anus, then
    slid his cock into her cunt again just as the room-service steward
    rapped on  the door. 

    Cursing softly, Suresh went to the door while she flung on a  gown
    and stepped out onto the moonlit deck. The waiter wheeled the
    laden trolley into the  room, and she came in through the window,
    shivering slightly, remarking on the chill in  the air. She looked
    at the waiter and Suresh felt a sudden, fleeting tension, a
    peculiar  glint in her eyes. The waiter was a tall, handsome, lean
    man. Then it was gone and the  waiter turned to him with the
    leather folder and ball-point pen to sign the voucher.  Suresh
    signed it and handed it back and the waiter said thank you in a
    voice that somehow  seemed to convey bafflement. He looked at
    Suresh a shade longer than was polite in such a  plush hostelry
    and only turned away when Suresh doubled the tip. 

    Suresh looked at his retreating back for a minute, wondering  what
    it was that he had missed, when the steward said, in a very odd
    voice, "Have a *very*  good night, sir." 

    Before Suresh could respond, the door clicked shut. Suresh  turned
    to find Sayali already at the trolley, heaping a plate. He looked
    at her and felt  his pulse quicken. Her gown had fallen open and
    her naked body was revealed to his view.  Her long *mangalsutra*
    swung against her breasts and belly. 

    "Here you are, love." She handed him the plate,  heaped with food. 

    "I don't want to eat. I want to fuck you." 

    "After you've eaten." 

    "No. Now. I want to come in your mouth and on your face  and your
    tits and in your cunt and ..." 

    Sayali laughed prettily. "That's a lot of coming,  Suresh. You
    won't be able to do any of it unless you eat. Eat." 

    "Only if you will." 

    "Of course." 

    "Take off your clothes. I like seeing you naked." 

    "All right. Take off yours." 

    "No. You take off mine. Later. When we fuck. I like  having you do
    that." 

    Sayali smiled and slithered out of her gown. They ate in bed  and
    Suresh realised how hungry he was when the first morsel went into
    his mouth. He took a  second helping and was about to go for a
    third when she stopped him. 

    "Enough. You must eat little, fuck, eat again. If you  eat too
    much, you won't be able to do anything." 

    Then his cock was in her mouth and they tumbled around on  the
    floor, and he struggled around and pulled her legs apart and
    pushed his head into her  crotch, questing for her cunt with his
    tongue, aching to thrust it deep into that warm,  succulent,
    perennially moist cavern. Her tongue and lips and teeth wrought
    their magic on  his penis and her slender finger slipped between
    his buttocks and pressed to his anus. He  felt his jizz roil up,
    eager for another release. 

    While they were fucking, she reminded him of her promise  made the
    previous evening. Astride his lap, impaled on his cock, her dark
    hair tumbling  down her front, she smiled gently down at him. He
    rocked gently under her, not hurrying,  toying with her splendid
    breasts, unable to get enough of her wonderful body. Her cunt
    squeezed his penis gently, insistently. She bent over and kissed
    him, her hot, heavy  breasts swinging against his chest, her
    *mangalsutra* cold between their bodies. 

    "Remember your question last night?" she asked,  tonguing his ear. 

    "Yes." 

    "You still want an answer?" 

    "Yes. More than ever." 

    "Do you trust me?" 

    "With all my heart." 

    "Will you believe what I say is the truth and that  there is
    nothing else?" 

    "Will you tell me everything?" 

    "Yes." 

    "Then of course I'll believe you." 

    "Even if it's something you don't like?" 

    "There's nothing about you I don't like." 

    "You might still." 

    "What do you want me to say?" 

    "Nothing. Only promise to keep faith in me, and to do  as I say." 

    He looked at her quietly. "What are you trying to tell  me,
    Sayali? I don't understand." 

    She sighed softly. "Sometimes, you know, Suresh, when I  can't
    sleep and the night won't end, I ask myself the same thing and I
    say the same thing.  I don't understand myself either." 

    "What? What are you talking about?" 

    "Love, listen to me." Suddenly her voice was  serious and urgent.
    "Believe me when I say that these past two nights have been the
    most wonderful in a long time. Not the best ever, because there
    were others. Yes, I've had  lovers. But it's not enough for you to
    know just that. Oh, I could tell you: how many,  where and when
    and how. But that still won't tell you the most important thing --
    *why*.  So I'm going to do this. I can just talk and tell you and
    then you'll have to do with it  what you like; accept it and
    accept me, or reject both. Because you can't have me without  my
    past." 

    "Fair enough," he said after a little, thoughtful  pause. 

    "There's another way." 

    "What's that?" 

    "For that you'll have to wait. It's more difficult, to  accept, to
    understand, to acknowledge. The harder road. But if you take that,
    then  everything else falls into place." 

    "You're not making sense." 

    "Few things do. Trust me. Just choose. Shall I talk now  or will
    you wait till tomorrow, say, afternoon?" 

    "And if there's anything to be explained tomorrow,  you'll do
    that?" 

    "I promise." 

    "Then I'll wait." 

    "Good." 

    She smiled, it seemed in relief, and lifted her breast to  his
    lips. He nibbled on her stiff nipple and she moaned softly. 

    "Come on, now," she said. "Fuck me, Suresh!  Fuck my slit! Come
    on! Shove your cock into my cunt!"

                                = o =