Tradition and Triumph

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Winning an Indian Beauty.
7.2k words
4.39
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/28/2008
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Timthe
Timthe
44 Followers

If I went by accepted popular belief, she was impossible to conquer. She was a South Indian Brahmin. Unsurprisingly she was conservative but she was also intelligent, proud, sharp witted and very beautiful.

Srila was attractive in a very Indian way, I guess. She was small at five and a half feet but had magnificent boobs and wide, curvy hips with a lovely unblemished complexion. Her pretty face, jet black hair and glorious smile could summon a second look. She did not look like in the late thirties that I thought her to be. Even though she had kids in her teens she looked more like she was around 28. To those men who interacted with her a little more she could unwittingly kindle fires of desire. I was no exception.

Knowing her as a family friend in the small town of Ankara near Fairbrook in Pennsylvania I had ample opportunity to admire her and secretly lust for her even when her hubby was around. With these adulterous thoughts I remember even masturbating a few times imagining her nude body. It was, of course in the realms of my dream world. She was happily married and the thick insulating social veil that she wore precluded any proximity that could even remotely provide for clandestine intimacy.

Now she was single and I somehow gained access to her inner circle of friends. That wasn't hard in a small town but she was the difficult kind to get close to. I knew Indian women can be cold but this one was well below freezing point! Any hint of what she thought was a 'hit' received a prompt rebuttal often with a harsh word. But knowing her better and with many occasions to be with her over a period of time I submerged that deterrent in a sea of desire that was damning up inside me.

I read so much about Indian women to take a look into their thoughts. Fascinating writings on how the social practices had pushed their sexuality into the background educated me to be watchful. The novels and short stories by the famous Indian author, Kushwant Singh, however narrated a different tale. His women were always looking for sex! Having till recently a now estranged wife who was similar in her priorities in a relationship to those of Singh's sluts I found myself in unfamiliar territory.

The more I read and the more I interacted with my Indian friends the more I realized that Srila needed a big reason to be intimate; a reason such as love.

And love was furthest in my mind.

I was starved of good sex and love had made me quite cynical with my recent experiences. Srila was on the other hand, I argued was not looking for it either. She was hurt by her single status and was gathering the pieces to move on.

This was lust and I was not fooling myself.

Srila was extremely beautiful to look at. She had classic oriental features. I loved her smooth neck and small hands. Unknown to her I ogled her fine breasts. To date I think they are the best in shape and size. I had a glimpse or two at her awesome cleavage when she bent over. That was a rare occurrence since she dressed so modestly. My eyes feasted on her butt when she walked ahead. She had a shapely behind and I dreamt of passing my fingers in that heavenly cleft and beyond.

Only, those dreams seemed so remote unless I did something quick. I reasoned to myself. I had to seduce her!

So my next step was to learn seduction. Getting an Indian woman into bed was something else but I was going to try like hell because the prize was priceless. The woman's natural remoteness made the challenge even more interesting and the victory even sweeter.

Now my energy spent gobbling her up visually had to be put to good use making a plan. After reading quite extensively I started.

First, I started by complimenting her not only on her good looks but also her intelligence, knowledge and character. An Indian women needs all of that! I saw her warming up and patted myself on my back for an excellent start.

The second stage was to pay her more attention than was necessary and tread carefully into the stage of romance. When on this day I complimented her on a lovely bright yellow top and told her how much I had started liking her in recent days, I saw her face flush with warmth with an almost embarrassed smile as she looked deep into my eyes as she whispered a husky 'Thank you, Chuck'.

I was winning.

That night in my bedroom I took off all my clothes and imagined Srila with me as she slowly peeled off her yellow top. My raging hard on had to be stroked as I closed my eyes, lay on my bed and let my thoughts flow. Her perfect breasts, her belly, thighs, butt and cunt, all imagined in some detail came flowing into my head as I shot my load like I never did. I soiled my sheets big time.

I crashed down back to earth after I milked my member to the last sticky drop . Yes, I was only day dreaming but this was a good one. This was as close to reality as I could get. Or was it?

I didn't even give myself time to fantasize the details of her awesome body. I had never seen an Indian woman and I didn't know what to expect.

I wanted to see and explore and enjoy and conquer!

I had to make that happen if I wanted it and that depended on how badly I needed to take her to bed. I had made an excellent start and now had to go on and keep to my plan. Be patient, positive and focused, I told myself.

The stage of romance was slow and sensitive but I was up to it.

We would go on those long drives into nowhere and after several false starts and unwanted interruptions I poured out the important words as I pulled over to drop her at home one night. I told her that she was an incredible woman; intelligent, smart and beautiful and that I had fallen head over heels for her. Then I waited with bated breath!

She took a long while looking at me as if she was searching for something deep in my soul. Then she looked down at her hands as I noticed those lovely boobs move gently up and down with each breath.

Then she patted my cheek and said: "I'll go now. We'll talk later"

"Can I kiss you?" I was desperate.

She turned and held out her cheek.

"I want to kiss you on your lips" I begged,

"No, no" she protested, "Not here"

I pecked her on her smooth cheek and let her go.

I smelt victory.

The next day I had an email from her with a million questions. Was I sincere? Did I know where this could lead? Did I know her culture and its implications? Did I just want sex? Blah! Blah! Blah!

Well the short answer to the last question would have been a resounding 'yes'! But that would have spelt disaster for our relationship. With an Indian woman I had to actually say 'no' to an exclusively physical affair. I had coached myself and I was sure that that was the way to go.

So on our first date I put my arms around her waist as we roamed the sidewalks of Ankara deliberately done late one summer night as Srila was terrified of being seen by her Indian friends. I enjoyed the soft smoothness of her skin under her bright blue cotton T shirt. As a reminder she expertly grabbed my hand and took it away from her waist as my fingers just hinted at going under.

She was difficult.

I kept to my plan and put patience on top of the list. Over the summer months we went out a lot and though she allowed no sexual touching we had graduated to tight hugs until on that very special night when something happened!

I went to meet her at her place as usual in the soft dim lights of her living room as she opened the door she looked so smashingly beautiful that I grabbed her and went for her lips. It was a first and the shadows enhanced the thrill. We had to turn out the lights as her teenage son was sleeping inside. It is the sweetest kiss that I have experienced. For the first time she responded! And how! Her exploring tongue darted in and out and touched every inch of my lips and mouth. She crushed her body against mine sending shivers across my body as my hardness drilled her. Her arms went round my neck and snaked down my shoulders gently letting her charged fingertips send a million volts on my skin. Was I in heaven! I was about to explode when we separated.

She must have seen the desire in my eyes even though it was dark and perhaps felt my manhood on her soft stomach. She led me by the hand and gestured towards the sofa. She wanted me to cool down and we went no further.

Damn!

After that each time I met her I kept admiring those lovely lips and the passion that they had potential for. How did she keep those emotions buried? Or did she just conceal them? These Indian women!

My close buddy Brad had a way with women. Over a couple of beers, a few days later we shared our experiences as we always did.

Brad had no doubts that I was winning.

"Chuck, you lucky prick, you've got her big time, man. She is asking for a fuck"

"You won't imagine", I explained. "She is not like that at all. It took all of summer to get her to smooch."

"But now you're there. She wants it. I can see it. I have been with Indian women before. Once you cross that critical barrier you're through. You can screw them good and believe me they are fabulous in bed!"

I made a mental note of Brad's observations. But I had no illusions that I had to wear my veil of love to conceal my carnal desires. Srila would have just dropped me like a red hot brick (or prick!) if I had started behaving otherwise.

As the awesome colours of fall blazed in the neighborhood, I made some remarkable progress.

We were in my car at night and before I dropped her off I kissed her long and hard. She was wearing a kind of a loose top and I couldn't resist pulling her neck line onto one side to see her silky shoulders. She moaned as I touched her there. I kissed her bare skin and she loved it. I touched her neck and her ear lobules. I tasted her. Lessons had been learnt in the art of seduction! Her response was a mixture of gasps and sighs which were deep and husky. Very sexual indeed! I had graduated from the days of 'no touch'!

Those magnificent breasts stood proudly below untouched. This was too tempting but there was also the fear of rejection. She was after all the cold, straight-talking tough woman that she was! Still embracing and eying the sexy curves outlined under the thin fabric I inched my fingers down. First I negotiated the swell of the top of her breasts over her clothes feeling the incredible softness while I kissed her deep and hard. I dwelt there for a few seconds and receiving no refusal from her I moved down to cup her right orb with my palm feeling her nipple stiffen underneath. She moaned loud and long with pleasure! I absorbed the softness that was her moving my palm expertly to arouse her. Her bra was an unwelcome barrier. Was this the woman whom I knew? The lady so aloof, correct and conventional? Did I really make her into this quivering, excited creature apparently asking for more?

I pulled away. We were, after all in a parking lot!

Back at home I imagined that moment; that golden second when I shattered her defenses and felt her breasts long and easy. It felt good! I masturbated that night in a hearty release of pent up passion imagining more of her. Once again her naked breasts, her thighs, her stomach, her buttocks and her pussy floated over my face! How would her Indian cunt be? Very hairy or sparsely furred? Protuberant? Hypertrophied inner lips or virgin like and hidden? Dark or natural? The images were whirling in my brain in a dizzy mix!

There was another obstacle. During our romance and togetherness she made me promise that I wouldn't do anything to her that she didn't want.

In my chivalry I agreed. Then making pretence of being in pure love I declared:

"You know what Srila, darling, I won't make love to you until both of us are ready, OK. Never before that and never, never if you don't want it"

I had this earlier promise nagging me for some time later.

Each of my subsequent meetings with her, of which I had many because we were madly in love, was filled with me staring at her body. I loved the shape of her proud breasts more and more, I imagined that her butt was bigger than it actually was and dwelt covertly on her crotch admiring the tantalizing curve down and backwards and wondered for the millionth time when I will conquer her completely.

I was so in awe of her sexy body that I once was shameful enough to ask her to kill my curiosity. It was my place one afternoon. We had our usual embraces and kisses. And I was lying on her as she liked to feel my 'delicious weight' on her. I started kissing her neck and her upper back and moved slowly down across her top to her waist. She had an unbelievably smooth skin and she was just simply fabulous to kiss and taste. I lifted her top more and more and pulled her waistline lower. Then I launched the question. I said something like "I haven't seen you fully" to which she gave me a quizzical look. I told her to let me pull her pants down. Burying her heads in the pillow she mumbled in the affirmative. I tugged at her waist band as she undid the hook in front and helped by lifting her hips. I rolled down her pants and then her panties and held my breath! Her buttocks took my head in a spin. It was looking larger than I thought for sure. Well rounded and smooth with evenly pigmented with the inevitable darker portion closer to the crevice below that is typically Indian, I thought. The folds below at the junction of the thighs were pronounced and a few irresistible tendrils of bush peeked out between. The tops of her thighs promised an incredibly sexy contour. Another South Asian trait, I thought. I always loved a good ass and a healthy bush. The throbbing erection I was having had become almost painful.

"Can you turn over" I almost begged.

"No no!!" she protested and started pulling her pants up.

I longed to see her pussy!

Then there was the day of Diwali, the Indian festival of lamps. Late that night I had got myself away from a party just to be with her. We were in a deep soul kiss and when lying on her couch I rolled over onto her delicate frame. Fearing that I might hurt her I gently lowered myself onto her. I found that rhythmic pelvic movements came to me so naturally that I found my hard manhood rubbing her in the crotch area.

"Let's pretend to make love" I croaked almost superfluously. She slowly nodded as she shut her beautiful eyes.

My movements sent her into an incredible wave of passion and desire.

"I want you inside me" she beckoned urgently.

"Are you wet?" I asked the most intimate question.

She nodded. There wasn't even an iota of shyness now!

This was also the first day I saw her boobs. I lifted her top and almost on cue she undid her bra and I gleefully slipped it away from her magnificent breasts. She had a bit of sag but the volume and shape were irresistible. Her nipples were light brown and ideally shaped to take my lips. I didn't wait any longer to taste them one by one. She loved that the best of my lovemaking.

I wasn't going to enter her yet. I knew she wasn't ready and this was not the place or time. I undid my belt and unzipped my pants. I loosened her jeans and brought it down while she helped raising her hips. Though there was a strong push to pull her panties own and get my rock hard penis into her warm and wet vagina, I resisted it. I had promised her. And I needed all my moral energy to break that!

But when we were only separated by the thinnest of materials of our underwear the feeling was heavenly. This was classic outercourse!

She responded matching my moans and groans with her sweet feminine sounds of enjoyment to our new found rhythm. Our bodies united in the middle by a thousand volts generated carnal heat and pagan pleasure. I could imagine with some concentration my shaft sliding in her heavenly crevice and I very nearly exploded.

But I kept my word. It took a Herculean effort to pull away. And she felt the strain of separation as well.

I must have her soon! She wanted it as well. The supposedly cold and aloof woman who most thought was even a snob was mine! How different she is when excited close to climax.

A few days later one afternoon she was at my place again and I suddenly had this desire to see her naked body. I had dreamt and dreamt and dreamt again of her nudity. I almost felt I had the details of her curves and crevices even without seeing them. I don't know what happened but it was a boyish kind of longing.

I asked her.

She smiled and for a moment I thought she was even mocking my blatant vulgarity.

Then she said almost unexpectedly: "OK. But we leave soon after that, OK?"

She seemed to want to ensure that one thing didn't lead to another.

I nodded feeling sheepish and odd.

I remember what she wore that day. A pink round necked T-shirt and a pair of faded Denims. Her cheeks were flushed and matched well with her top. Still smiling she stood up in front of me. My poor heart was galloping. I was going to have a direct view inches away from my face!

Time stopped as she unhooked the front of her jeans. The zip flew down expertly in a flash and while panties with little flowers showed up in the 'V'. Then in a magic moment as my whole body shivered and my spine chilled, she hooked her thumbs into the waist bands of both garments and pulled them down to mid thigh.

I stared at the most beautiful sight in nature. She was perfect. The mound of Venus was just right with the right amount of flesh. Her colour was natural without that dark pigmentation that is common among darker women. The bush was a delicious jet black inverted triangle. It was thick without obscuring. The midline accentuation was there lining her heavenly slit. The crack was virginal. The inner lips hardly showed. The clit was hidden.

Almost in a trance like state I grabbed her buttocks and drew her to me for a gentle kiss among the sexy tendrils. She gently backed away as she pulled on her clothes.

I looked up. She still smiled like she was entertaining a two-year old with a new toy.

"Let's go!" It was almost an order.

I quietly stood up and followed her. It was such a thrilling experience that I don't even remember if I had an erection!

A golden opportunity presented itself soon. It was my manipulation of circumstances as well. I faked ill health and took a day off from work. This was good as she had pretty little to do during the day and I picked her up and brought her home.

Soon we were in each other's arms and kissing and hugging passionately. Our bodies clinging and our fingers exploring our necks and backs, our breathing got heavier in a mood of unabashed desire.

"Let's go inside" I whispered.

"Where?" she queried.

"The bedroom" I urged

She nodded and my heart skipped a couple of beats. Was this the day and moment?

I walked her with my arms round her waist. I looked at her pretty face that was flushed with excitement and I could read a message in her jet black eyes. It felt like she was saying I am letting myself go because I love you and I don't want to be hurt ever!

We stood at the foot of the bed and then planting my lips on hers again I gently guided her onto the softness of my king sized bed.

We rolled around kissing and hugging and letting our fingers explore each other. My hands and fingers wore new and hitherto unknown sensors that felt a hundred times more acutely. I enjoyed her neck and her shoulders. Her sides were smooth as she arched her back to thrust herself onto me. I was quick to expose her torso and free her breasts again from the confines of her bra. I admired those inviting chocolate coloured nipples. My lips covered them as I sucked like a baby. She gasped.

She slipped her fingers between the buttons of my shirt and expertly undid them. I slipped myself free of my top garment and pressed myself against her soft twin orbs feeling their fluid consistency for the first time.

Timthe
Timthe
44 Followers
12