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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
WANTON WINTER
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Chapter Thirteen
�Look, auntie. That woman has a dot on her head,� I said. I tugged on
my aunt�s sleeve. She turned and looked at the young woman standing at
the jewelry counter.
�She�s an Indian,� my aunt told me.
�Like Tonto?� I asked.
�No, silly,� my aunt laughed. �She�s from India.�
�Why does she have a dot on her head?�
�It�s a religious symbol of some kind,� my aunt said. �Perhaps she�d
explain it to you if you asked.�
At that moment, perhaps sensing that she was being discussed, the
woman turned. She was about the same age as my aunt. She had long dark
hair, pinned up very neatly atop her head. She wore a crisp dark business
suit. She gave us a soft smile. I blushed. My aunt smiled back.
�Come. Let�s look at the jewelry,� my aunt said. She clasped my
hand and drew me forward.
Within a few minutes we had made the woman�s acquaintance. My
aunt bought a piece of jewelry and we drifted with the woman to the
department store�s coffee shop. We sat dipping our drinks. We gazed at
the customers passing by outside the glass divider that separated the shop
from the store�s main floor.
�You are 13?� the Indian woman said, discovering my age as we
talked. I nodded. �I was married at 13,� the Indian woman said.
�Really?� I asked.
�Yes. In India it is not uncommon for children to marry,� she said.
She explain how parents often picked mates for their children while they
were still in grade school.�
�Perhaps she would be more responsible if she were married,� my
aunt said, offhandedly, and smiled at me.
�It is one reason my parents chose to have me marry. To make me a
responsible young lady,� the Indian woman, whose name was Sarife, said.
�Oh, but Brad is not here anymore,� I said. �He�s gone back to
college.�
�Who�s Brad?� Sarife asked. My aunt rolled her eyes.
�Some guy she�s in love with.�
�I�m not in love with him!� I protested. �I just like him.�
�Liking is enough, sometimes,� Sarife said. �I did not meet my
husband until our wedding day.�
�Did you like him?� I asked.
�Very much,� Sarife said.
I looked out the window and caught sight of a guy who was looking at
CD�s.
�I would like him,� I offered. My aunt and Sarife followed my gaze.
�Would you really?� Sarife asked.
�Yes,� I said.
�She falls in and out of love,� my aunt said. �But he is quite a pick.
I shouldn�t mind marrying him myself.�
�Such broad shoulders,� Sarife said.
�He has dark eyes,� my aunt said.
�Auntie, he�s not for you and Helene. Or you and Sarife, either,� I
scolded. �I saw him first.�
�Oh? Well, why don�t you go say hello? He looks like he�s about to
go,� my aunt told me. She lifted her coffee cup and sipped, still gazing at
him. I sank lower in my chair. I felt myself blushing.
�He�s too cute,� I confessed.
�Look! He�s putting the CD back! He�s checking his watch!� Sarife
said.
�He looks like such a slacker. I�m surprised he has a watch,� my
aunt said.
�Chloe,� Sarife said. She looked at me. �Would you really marry him
if you could?�
�Yes!� I said. But I slipped lower in my chair, and I was blushing
quite strongly now.
�He is turning to go,� my aunt said.
Sarife rose. She looked at my aunt and then at me and said, �I should
love to marry you to him, Chloe. If I get him for you, will you let me do
that?� My aunt turned. Her eyes widened.
�She�s too young to get married,� my aunt said.
�If you wish to make her responsible, then she must be married,�
Sarife said. She set down her coffee cup. She walked out of the shop. We
watched her. The boy turned to go but she intercepted him. She was quite
beautiful. She had no problem striking up a conversation with him.
We sat in my aunt�s living room. I sat between Sarife and my aunt.
Across from us, on a chair by himself, was Jacob. He was nicely dressed,
in an open suit coat and slacks, with a t-shirt under his coat. He was
hunched forward looking at a book lying open on the coffee table that
separated us. It was an edition of the Kama Sutra. It was lavishly
illustrated with photos of Indian sculpture, and paintings, taken from holy
shrines in India.
�Cool,� Jacob said.
�I�m glad you like it,� Sarife told him. �But its purpose is not to
amuse, or to pass the time. It�s a very important text. It was designed to
allow lovers to fulfill themselves and each other completely.�
�So you are agreed, then, that you wish to marry Chloe?� my aunt
asked Jacob. He looked up. His eyes fell upon me and he smiled.
�She�s young. But she�s cute,� he said. �But we haven�t even gone on
a date!�
�This would be a traditional Indian marriage,� Sarife said. �The
bride and groom are not given the freedom to commingle with each other
prior to the wedding day.�
Jacob�s smile broadened as his eyes lingered on me. I could feel his
desire to undress me, to see me naked, and my own urges were not
dissimilar. I blushed. I looked shyly down at myself. To my surprise I
saw that my loose blouse, worn without a bra, had sprouted nipples.
Sarife rose. She walked over to Jacob. She sat down beside him and
put a hand on his leg. She stroked his thigh. It was hard and muscled, I
saw, beneath his tight-fitting slacks. She allowed her fingers to travel up
to his crotch and she took hold of his zipper.
�Lift your skirt, Chloe,� Rebecca said.
�Auntie!� I cried. She reached over and took hold of my skirt with
both my hands. She slid it up my slim thighs. My legs were white, skinny.
She exposed my panties, whiter still than my legs. With a single finger
she touched me deftly between my thighs, where my panties cupped my
sex. At once I felt myself grow moist. The blush on my cheeks grew
redder.
�In India we are more free regarding sexuality, and yet more
disciplined too,� Sarife told Jacob. �Take your zipper, for instance.�
Jacob looked down at himself, at the bulge he was making in his pants, and
at Sarife, holding him by his fly. �Would you think me a slut if I did this?�
Sarife asked. Slowly her polished nails drew down the metal tab of his
zipper. His crotch opened upon the white bulge of his underpants, like an
abdomen spilling guts. Thickly his penis surged through his pants� open
fly. The tight white cloth of his Jockeys strained to keep him in check.
�I- I,� Jacob stammered.
�Or this?� Sarife said. Lightly she stroked his bulge. Her fingertip
was like a butterfly upon the back of a bunched-up snake. �You feel
healthy,� Sarife said. �And that is important. It is the most important
thing, after all, to a traditional marriage. For the purpose of marrying is
fertility, reproduction. I am going to draw your cock out of your
underpants now and inspect it. You will need to help, a little. I can see
that you�re awfully big. Help me get your cock free. Then do nothing-- I
shall see if you�re truly fit for Chloe. Do you have a handkerchief? I will
need to make you spurt. Again, to make sure every aspect of your sex is in
order. You may look at Chloe while I make you cum. Her aunt will make
her cum for you. Perhaps you will cum together,� Sarife smiled. She
tossed back her dark hair, which was loose now, and looked over at
Rebecca.
�Chloe, part your legs,� my aunt told me. �Wait. Let me pull down
your panties first,� she said.
It was a day later. We sat eating in the breakfast nook, at my aunt�s,
though it was afternoon. Jacob sat across from me at the table. Sarife
sat beside him. My aunt sat between myself and Jacob. He was dressed as
before. I wore a skirt.
�How are you feeling today, Jacob?� Sarife asked him. Jacob bit into
a sandwich my aunt had made for him. It was an egg salad sandwich.
�Fine,� Jacob said. His zipper was zipped up. My underpants hugged
my warm fruit-like sex beneath my skirt. I felt need; I wondered if he did
too. More than my tummy wished to be fed. I bit into the sandwich my
aunt had fixed for me. It was peanut butter and jelly.
�Are you filling up after your nice spurt yesterday?� Sarife asked.
�I wish you wouldn�t put it that way,� Jacob said. Guiltily he looked
at his sandwich.
�Why?� Sarife asked. �You have the look of a boy who has jerked
himself off. But you did not. I did it for you. And you came quite nicely.
Such a load! How are you feeling today?�
�Full,� Jacob said.
�Ah,� Sarife said. �So you are full again. Good. Eat your egg salad
sandwich. It will make you fuller still.�
�I-- don�t really want to be,� Jacob said. �I mean, not in my balls.�
�You will need it for where we are going,� Sarife told him. She
tossed back her dark hair and smirked at my aunt. My aunt smiled. I
blushed.
�I know-- but I�m full enough already,� Jacob said. �When will we
get there? We haven�t gone anywhere yet!� He looked at Sarife. Then his
eyes fell hopefully upon her small hand, poised by her plate on the table.
Her other hand was under the table, but in her own lap, not his.
�It is a remote location,� Sarife said. �I chose it so that you and
Chloe would be free to love each other completely. Without distractions,�
Sarife said. �Of course Rebecca and I will be there, to assist, and to
supervise, but that will be all.�
�Why do you need--?� Jacob began, but then his eyes, falling upon
Sarife�s breasts, stilled his mouth. Sarife had fine, large bosoms, young
and uptilted, and he realized three women, instead of one, were hardly a
cause for complaint.
�Because the purpose of an Indian marriage is not pleasure, but
procreation,� Sarife said. �Perhaps in America children are simply
allowed to date, and take their pleasure at their leisure, and marry and
honeymoon however they wish. But not in India. Or in an Indian-style
wedding and honeymoon. Hence Rebecca and I will be there, as well as
yourself and Chloe. And I will bring a friend along too,� Sarife said.
Jacob�s eyes widened. �A friend?� he asked. �You just said--�
Sarife stood up. She walked over to a briefcase she�d brought with
her. She bent and opened it. Her rump pressed boldly against the back of
her dress, showing its trim outlines through the thin fabric. From her
briefcase she took a long, whippy stick. It was sheathed in leather.
Sarife turned and showed it to Jacob. I heard a gasp escape my throat.
�An odd implement to bring along on a honeymoon, don�t you think?�
Sarife smiled at Jacob.
�Yes,� Jacob said.
�However, consider this,� Sarife said. �You are blissfully ensconced
in Chloe. Your desire, of course, is to spurt, and as quickly as possible.
All your concentration is focussed on her, and how wonderful she feels,
and how deeply your cock is embedded in her. Your mind is your cock, in
fact. It is difficult to maintain oneself in such a situation, don�t you
agree?�
�Huh?� Jacob asked. I felt my legs draw apart. I put down my
peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my plate and let my hands drop to my
lap.
�You must have something to take your mind off your dick, in such a
situation, if you are to truly pillage Chloe, as she must be pillaged, in
order to conceive the healthiest of babies,� Sarife said. She gave her slim
wrist a flick and the crop, which she was holding, swished smartly
through the air. �Fortunately, your bare behind is sticking up, as you fuck
her,� Sarife told Jacob. �And if I crack this upon it, skillfully and
deliberately, causing pain in your buttocks, that will help take your mind
off your cock. Hence you may fuck her longer, and when you spurt, she will
receive you with complete abandon, and you will hold nothing back.�
�God,� Jacob said. I felt my fingers delve under my skirt.
�Chloe, do not play with yourself,� my aunt cautioned me. �Eat your
sandwich.
Sarife continued to stare at Jacob with her sultry, half-smirking
smile and her beautiful large Indian eyes. She gave another light swish
with her crop. There was a fringed tassel at the end of it and Jacob stared
at the tassel. It swung and bobbed with every slight quiver of Sarife�s
delicate hand.
�Yes,� Sarife said. �You will give completely of yourselves to each
other, Jacob. And as I said, the location will be quite remote. There is
freedom in that, but danger too, for there will be no medical services
available there. If you are injured--� Sarife let the word hang in the air.
�Chloe, take your hands off your lap,� Rebecca told me again. �Pick
up your sandwich.�
�You will have to rely on your instincts to get you through,� Sarife
said to Jacob. �I expect you to be obedient at all times. Obedient and
available. Perhaps you think you shall be cock of the walk there, with
three females? Oh Jacob, that is not the case, in a traditional, supervised
Indian wedding. The male is there to serve the bride. His cock and balls
are not his own. They belong to her. And yet she will be submissive to
you, Jacob. You do not have to worry about that. You will both be
submissive to each other, in your own way, for in that way may you both
enjoy the fulfillment of complete surrender.� Again Sarife whisked the
crop she held through the air. Jacob�s eyes followed it, and his mouth hung
open.
�Do you think you can accept your marriage to Chloe?� Sarife asked
Jacob. �As the mission traditional Indian standards will make it? Do you,
Jacob? Refuse now if you must, for otherwise we will leave in the
morning.�
�I--� Jacob said. He looked at me. I still had my hands on my lap,
under my drawn-up skirt, and my aunt now reached down and took hold of
my wrists. When she brought my hands up to the table my fingers were
moist. �Yeah, I--�
�Jacob, the experience will be an intensely physical one,� Sarife
said. �Especially for you, since the male, in the end, is the one who must
truly perform. It is the female�s role to receive. But you will have to be
constantly available, and ready. It is a job for a young man. I would not
have chosen you if I didn�t think you could do it but one never knows,
despite your fine emission yesterday. Speak now if you wish not to cum.�
�I�ll.... cum...� Jacob stammered. He looked at me and his eyes were
hungry. I hunched my slim shoulders. I stared back at him like a trapped
lamb.
�Chloe, eat your sandwich,� my aunt said.
�Very well,� Sarife said. �We shall leave in the morning and you
shall stay the night in this house, Jacob. You will sleep alone tonight, of
course. And suitably bound so that you cannot, even in your dreams, find a
way of relieving the tension I know you are already feeling in your loins.�
�But--� Jacob said. He tore his eyes from me and looked at Sarife.
�You do not need to pack anything, Jacob,� Sarife smiled. �A
condom? You do not need one. Chloe is free from disease. What else
would you need? I�ll bring along a razor for you, so you may shave. What
else does a male need, hmmm? Except for his sperm, of course. Eat your
sandwich, Jacob. It�s egg salad. It will give you lots of sperm.�
�But I�m in college!� Jacob said.
�A slacker like you can miss a week�s worth of classes,� Sarife told
him. �Anyway mid-terms are not until Easter. You must think only of
Chloe now, Jacob, of her petal-like mouth, between her legs, that waits to
receive you. Think entirely of her now, and for the next week.�
�I�m already thinking about her,� Jacob said, looking at me again.
�Why do you think I�m here?�
�You do not find me attractive?� Sarife asked him.
�Hell yes!� Jacob said. He looked at her and then at my aunt. �Damn!
I want to--� his voice broke off.
�I know what you want, Jacob,� Sarife said. �You wish to fuck all
three of us. Alas, the discipline I must impose prevents that, at least for
the time being. But rest assured that, though I cannot permit you to fuck
me, for your sperm must go to Chloe, nonetheless I might have you.�
�Huh?� Jacob asked.
Sarife looked at Rebecca and then back at Jacob. �Imagine that you
are inside of Chloe,� Sarife told Jacob. �How might you be made to bury
yourself even more deeply in her?�
�I don�t know,� Jacob said.
�Have you considered how deeply you would thrust in her, if at the
same time you were being thrust into from behind? With a dildo?� Sarife
said to Jacob.
�Fuck you! I�m not gay!� Jacob blurted.
�Of course you aren�t,� Sarife said. �I wouldn�t have chosen you if
you were. But if the effect of being sodomized is to make you take your
bride more completely, this is a technique that must not be abjured.�
�Damn,� Jacob said.
�With the crop and a well-lubricated dildo, much can be attained,�
Sarife told Jacob. �You will fuck as you have never fucked before, so do
not complain about the techniques I employ to derive the maximum
performance from you.�
30
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