Posted by Max on May 06, 2004 at 16:24:26:
I never expected it to happen there. I mean, being the age that I was
and all, I always expected that sort of thing to happen to me back
home, in the US. Not in India. But there I was, a young lass at the
age of 19, visiting relatives, and discovering that this wasn't the
India of my childhood. I was born in India, but my parents moved to
the US when I was 6 months old, and we've lived there ever since. But
we visited often, at first every summer, and then every other summer,
and then for almost 5 years, not at all. I was busy with high school,
my sister was busy with college, dad was working a lot, and mom had
gone back to work in the medical field now that we were all old enough
to take care of ourselves. So India had became a place we kept
meaning to visit but never did, until finally that summer after my
sophomore year, we all found ourselves free.
Even though I should have been doing an internship, I was confused
about my major and the direction my life was going, and decided India
would be a good break. College wasn't going the way I'd planned. I'd
gone expecting do premed, get excellent grades, graduate and go on to
a top ten school. But I didn't like medicine, and my grades were
starting to flounder. On top of that, my social life sucked. Class
and homework took up most of my time, and I hadn't gotten a chance to
party, or experience too many girls. That last thing hurt the most.
I was a sexually frustrated young teenager, on the verge of becoming
twenty, and I still hadn't lost my virginity. I hadn't even had my
dick touched by a girl. I was always shy, and coupled with bad luck,
my experiences with girls were horrible. India was a way for me to
get away from my life, to take my mind off of school and sex.
It took a while getting reacquainted with all my relatives. We'd all
grown, and everyone had changed so much. All the adults looked so
much smaller, and all the kids looked so much bigger. My cousins
Manish and Sudip had grown the most, and they turned out to be totally
different than when we were younger. I soon found out they liked to
party: go to clubs, meet girls, etc. Manish told me he'd take me out
to the best clubs in Bangalore, but before he had a chance, he got a
call from his father, requesting that he come to their coffee
plantation to help take care of business. Sudip was busy with work,
and so I found myself spending the days relaxing with family. I
didn't mind, but at the mention of girls, I had gotten excited for a
while.
India was so different from what I remembered. The city was much more
cosmopolitan than before, and the youth were certainly not the same.
You saw plenty of couples around, and the girls were noticeably more
attractive than in previous years. The influence of Western culture
had them looking and dressing better and sexier. They strutted around
in tight jeans and shirts, some of them in shorts, their brown, sexy
skin exposed. I soon realized that coming to India to get my mind off
of girls was not going to work.
Manish came back to the city for a couple of days, and he suggested I
go to stay with him at the plantation. Some of my other visiting
relatives had gone to other parts of India and things were starting to
get a bit boring, so it seemed like a good idea. I figured I'd be
bored as hell out in the middle of nowhere, but it would be something
different, so I went.
The coffee plantation was about 200 miles from the city. It took us
almost 8 hours to reach it, and halfway through the trip, I was
wishing I'd stayed put. The roads were awful, with ox-drawn carts and
pedestrians and animals slowing traffic. Not to mention the quality
and small size of the roads. I was grateful when we got to the
plantation, though looking around at the crops, the few homes which
dotted the land, and the huge mansion we had sitting on a hill, I
started to think I'd come all the way out here for nothing.
Manish spent the next few days showing me around the house and the
plantation. The house was incredible. It was huge, with big, airy
rooms, and lush decoration. Though not extremely modern, everything
was top quality and in great condition. It had a charm that only
older homes can have, and I warmed to the place. The plantation
itself was immense, acres of coffee plants covering the surrounding
land. Down one hill was a small village where most of the plantation
workers lived. We strolled through here, and I had to admit, I felt
strange. We were noticeably bigger and of different stock than the
people here. They were small, their bone structure being slim from
their meager diets. And they were dark. Very dark. I myself am on
the darker side, and I know many dark Indians myself, but most of the
Indians I was used to were wealthy in India, or raised in the US. Our
darkness is different, it's hereditary. These people had a different
darkness, one that not only came from genes, but from spending all
their hours toiling in the sun. Their skin had a different quality to
it, tougher, yet with a beauty no soft, rich person can have. Even
though I knew about all this intellectually, it was quite another
thing to see it in the flesh again after so long.
In the village, children ran around naked. The women and young girls
were dressed in saris, and even though of low quality, they all had a
vibrancy and color to their clothing that we in the West don't have.
Naturally I noticed some of the girls. Though of a different stock
than us, they were still attractive, many with sharp, clean features
and smiles that you saw in their eyes. They all stared when I came
through, though I figured it was out of novelty rather than
attraction. Manish seemed to know all the villagers well, as he was
their employer, and they all addressed him with deference. Manish
even introduced me to the more important men in the village, though we
could say little to each other. We simply said "Namaskar" but all the
men seemed to have a sort of deference to me as well. It actually
made me a little embarrassed, that men three times or more my age
would be acting as if I were someone special.
That night, we had a delicious dinner cooked by the servants. Since
there wasn't anybody else here except Manish and myself, the servants
did all the work. I noticed a couple of girls from the village among
the servants. They were cute, but young. A few were boys. Then I
noticed one woman who I wasn't sure was or wasn't a servant. She was
taller and thicker than the other females, and a bit older. And she
had a look about her that didn't fit. For one thing she wasn't as
dark as the others, even being a bit lighter than me, though she was
still very brown. But her skin had a different quality to it than
that of the other servants. It wasn't as "sunbaked". In fact, she
looked almost middle class, except for her sari, and the work she was
doing. She was extremely cute, with a small, Meg Ryan type nose, big,
Indian eyes, and a round face.
"Who's that," I asked Manish.
He looked over his shoulder at her, then smiled. "That's Radhika.
One of the servants."
"She doesn't look like a servant. At least, not as much as the
others."
"She is, though her story is different. She's the child of a
plantation owner and a servant girl. The next plantation over, in
fact. The plantation owner couldn't claim her as his own, of course,
but he felt he couldn't let a child of his be raised without money or
a father, so he moved the servant girl and the baby, Radhika, into his
home as full-time servants. She was raised well, and never had to do
any of the backbreaking work of the field workers. Plus she lived in
the plantation house, and ate well. That's why she looks so
different."
"So she wasn't really treated like a servant."
"Well, she was really. I mean, she wasn't sent to school, and she
helped with the cooking and cleaning. And she spent a lot of time
taking care of the owner's legitimate children."
"Her half-siblings."
"Yes. After the owner died his wife didn't want Radhika in the house,
so she cast her out. But we knew her - she had watched over us when
we were young, and had spent time at our house when we were short on
help - and Appa felt bad for her, so we took her in. She's lived with
us ever since."
"She took care of you? How old is she?"
"Not exactly sure, but probably around 27. Three years older than me.
Maybe four."
I nodded, then went back to eating.
"Why?" Manish asked suddenly.
"Oh, I was just wondering."
He smiled, with a little mischief in his eyes. "Have you taken a
liking to her," he asked.
"No, of course not. I mean, she is really cute..."
"I could arrange something..." Manish said, letting the sentence trail
with possibilities.
I was shocked at the thought. That seemed so wrong, taking advantage
of a woman like that. But in fact, I was more shocked that it was
even possible. I guess I should have expected things like that to go
on, but Indian kids raised in the US are taught that Indian people do
no wrong, and this activity came as a surprise to me. "No, that's
okay," I said.
"Suit yourself," Manish said. "But she's a great lay." My jaw dropped
open. "Well, you think I can have a girl like that in the house and
not want her? Especially being out here, kilometers from anybody.
Besides, it's not as if she isn't willing. Sudip had her first, in
fact, when he was helping my father out here. He's the one who
introduced me to her charms. And she has many, I'll tell you that
now, Vishal. Many charms. Apparently whatever it was her mother had
was passed down to her."
Just then Radhika entered the room, a young girl in tow. They were
heading for the kitchen. "Radhika," Manish called. "Come here." He
called her in Kannada of course, not English.
She came to the table, stopping a few feet from it, and stood smiling
at him. Then she turned to me, and her smile seemed to get even
brighter. "Radhika, this is Vishal, my cousin from the America."
"Namskara," she said, hands clasped in front of her.
"Namskara," I said. "It's nice to meet you," I added, in broken
Kannada.
Both she and Manish laughed at my statement. Radhika seemed friendly,
but shy. "You can go," Manish told her, and she turned towards the
kitchen. But before she did she shot me another smile, a very
friendly one.
Manish shot me another mischievous look, then turned the conversation
to other matters. I was glad to get the topic off of Radhika, but she
stayed in my mind the rest of the night. In bed, I got hard thinking
about her, and found myself reaching for my cock. I jerked off with
the beautiful servant in my mind, imagining fucking her. I came in no
time, and fell into a deep sleep.
I woke to the sound of dogs barking. In India, there is always noise
and movement, even out in the country. It's not bad though; it adds
to the charm of the country. You never feel alone, like in the US.
There are always friendly people around, and everyone seems to smile
at you.
I knew it was late when I awoke. The sun had climbed high, and I
could here the sounds of the servants cleaning around the house. I
got up and went to a small sink in the hallway, where we brushed our
teeth. Manish was awake, bathed and had already gone out to supervise
some of the workers. He had come back to make a call to his father in
Bangalore.
"So, you're finally up! Do all you Americans sleep so late? Haha,
just kidding. Have you had your bath yet?"
"No, just about to. Where is the bathing room."
"Just one second," Manish said. "I have to call Appa. I'll send a
servant to show you the room and how to operate the water heater."
I went back to my room and waited, but no servant came. I grew
restless of waiting, so I poked around the house until I found the
bathing room. I grabbed my clothes and went in. The house was old,
and the bathroom was pretty traditional, though it had some modernity
added to it. The room consisted of two sections: the first, a tiled
area with a small bench where you could put your clothes. Shelves
were on the wall above the bench, holding towels. The second, larger
part of the room was a semi rough floor with a drain in the middle.
Against one wall of it was a hot water heater, a big, steel
contraption that looked brand new. There was a small hand bucket next
to it. The way to bathe was to heat the water, then grab water out of
the heater with the hand bucket, and pour it over yourself. A wall
separated the two sections of the room, with a way to walk through at
one corner, and on the wall sat some soap and shampoo.
Even though it had been a while since I last bathed this way, I
remembered the general specifics of bathing. So I stripped and went
over to the heater. It felt weird, being naked in the room like that.
Back home, we get into a tub with a curtain right around us. Here we
are sort of out in the open, even though we are in a room by
ourselves. Plus there were windows in the room, near the ceiling. No
one could look in at that height, but with the air blowing in and the
sounds of people not too far way, it didn't feel totally private.
But at the same time, it felt liberating. I liked strutting around
the room stark naked, even if by myself. The heater was turned off, I
realized. I switched it to "on", and I knew I had some time to wait
before it heated up. I went over to the bench and sat down.
As I sat there I looked over at the door and realized it was unlocked.
I was just about to get up and lock it when the door opened and
someone came in: Radhika. She stepped in and didn't see me at first,
but when she saw me her eyes got wide, and she seemed surprised. But
she didn't look away, and quickly casting a glance over her shoulder,
she stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind her.
I sat there, totally naked, in shock. No female had ever seen me
naked since I was 11 or so. I froze, and Radhika just looked at me
with her arms crossed in front of her. She looked me up and down, and
straight at my cock. It had shrunk to an extremely small size, and
the head just peaked out from the bush of my pubic hair. Radhika
surveyed me with little emotion, then went over to the water heater,
took the top off, and dipped her hand into the water. "Come, it's
warm," she said to me in Kannada.
I didn't move at first, but she beckoned me with her hand. "Come."
Slowly I stood up and made my way to her, completely aware of my
nakedness.
to be continue...