My Indian Summer

Summer. Hot sultry summer. Every time I think of summer, my memory takes me back to India. In India, summer begins in the month of April, and ends in June, followed by monsoon (rainy season) from June to August. This year, entire North India was under the spell of a scorching Heat Wave. I am Payal. I am 19 years old and an Undergrad student at NYU. And this is the story of my summer holidays this year.

The heat wave in India started within a week after the vacations at NYU began. My parents, who live in NYC, decided to visit some long lost relatives in Delhi, India's capital city. They wanted me to tag along, but I refused. "Waste my vacation with people I hardly know? No way!" I wanted to taste freedom, experience something new, away from the big city and relatives and parents.

My free spirit, like my bouncy, perky 34DD boobs, was undaunted and untamed. So, it was decided that I be allowed to spend 5 days at our ancestral house in rural India, before my parents joined me there from Delhi.

5 days. Alone. At our ancestral property. In an Indian village. "Ahh! Freedom!" I was super excited.

Now, this ancestral house is big, but not glamorous by any standard. And it is located right in the heart of rural North India. No shopping malls, no pubs, no cool hangout spots. So, why was I excited?

Well, 5 days of freedom and "Me Time" did not seem like a bad deal after 18 years of living under the control of Dad-Mom-school-homework—tuition- academic goals-social expectations-peer pressure-lazy boyfriend......and so on. Wish it was longer, but 5 days is better than nothing.

Dad said, "Payal, remember Ramu? He is the caretaker of the property. I have asked him to make all arrangements for your stay."

I remembered Ramu. He had been the caretaker of that house for as long as I could remember. How old is he? I asked Dad.

"Ramu must be in his mid-forties by now," Dad replied. "Has spent half his life taking care of that house. He is a Jack-of-all. Can manage everything, including cooking."

"Pack everything you need, don't miss anything.," said Mom. "You won't get any stuff over there, it's a village after all."

So, off I went, with my passport, visa, packed suitcases, sunglasses, my phone and tablet, all alone to the place of birth of my grandparents. I have been to India before, but never alone. Little did I know what was going to happen once I reached there.

Below is a chronicle of my days after I landed.

Day 1

The first thing I noticed after arriving at the village was how hot the weather was. It was scorching. Ramu said the heat wave was exceptionally brutal this year. The temperature was above 104 F already.

And there was no air-conditioning at the old house!

"Why?" I asked.

"Nobody stays here except me," replied Ramu. "Nobody visits anymore. What's the point of having an AC unit?"

Bummer. It's so hot and sweaty. I took a quick shower, had lunch that Ramu had prepared, and crashed down on bed. Ramu had arranged a room for me on the 2nd floor. I was so tired after the long flight and car ride from the airport that I quickly fell asleep.

I woke up suddenly feeling suffocated and uncomfortable. The ceiling fan was not moving. It was so hot and humid. I was sweating profusely.

"Ramu, the fan is not moving," I yelled from my bed.

"There is a power cut, Payal Rani. It is quite common in rural India." Rani means queen in India. Ramu always addressed me as Payal Rani, not sure why.

"Damn!" I cursed. This heat, no AC, and now a power cut. Terrible!

I checked the time. It was 6 pm. I was sweaty all-over. Sweat was running down my forehead, my neck, my cleavage, inside my bra. My t-shirt was soaked in sweat. My skirt was soaked in sweat.

My bra was killing me. So tight-fitted, it made me feel suffocated. I got up, took off my t-shirt, unhooked my bra, threw both in a corner of the room, and changed into another t-shirt.

A thin light flimsy t-shirt. With no bra underneath.

I was wearing a short skirt -- a mini skirt -- so kept it on. Nothing shorter was available in my suitcase.

I was not wearing my regular hipster panties underneath the mini skirt. Due to the heat and humidity, I had decided to wear a tiny white thong after lunch, before I went to sleep. The thong barely covered my crotch and slit. My butt was completely uncovered. I thought the thong would be more comfortable than regular panties, but the power cut made it soaked in sweat too.

Worse, my groin started to itch.

I put my hand under the skirt. And started scratching my crotch over my thong. The itch kept increasing. It spread to the inner folds of my thighs, the joint of my crotch and thigh. Even the inside of my crack started itching.

Shit. My pussy hair has started growing! I should have brought my wax strips from home. I forgot to carry them.

I put my fingers inside the thong and kept scratching my crotch and pussy. Tiny bits of hair had grown and covered my crotch, the entire length of my slit, and even inside the crack of my ass. The tiny hairs made the itching worse.

As I was lying on bed and scratching under my skirt, I suddenly noticed a slight movement and a flicker of light near the door. The door was open. Ramu was standing there with a lantern in one hand, and a plastic handfan in the other.

He was wearing a white tank top and traditional Indian loincloth (worn mostly by male village folk). And there was a massive bulge inside his loincloth near the crotch area.

I was shocked to see the bulge, but did not react. Did not get up either.

"I brought light and a handfan for you Payal Rani," said Ramu. He kept the lantern and the plastic fan on the table, and turned to leave the room.

My eyes fell on his crotch and the massive hard-on hidden under his loincloth. An idea struck me.

"Don't leave Ramu. Bring the fan here," I said while lying on bed.

I had removed my fingers from under my skirt. Ramu walked over to my bed with the handfan. His erection remained as is, and he did not even try to hide it.

He was not wearing underwear, I said to myself. And he was not feeling embarrassed at all by his erection.

"Sit down on the floor. Fan me," I ordered.

Ramu dutifully sat down on the floor, and started fanning me. I rolled over to the edge of the bed, pointed at my cleavage, and asked him to fan there.

He stared at my juicy cleavage and the sweat trickling down the middle, and started fanning.

The flimsy t-shirt I was wearing had clung to my boobs due to the sweat. I noticed that my nipples were visible through the fabric of the t-shirt. I thrust out my chest towards the fan that Ramu was waving.

He was staring at my boobs and nipples with lustful eyes. But felt helpless to do anything.

"Ramu, fan under my skirt. It feels very hot down there." Saying this, I opened my legs slightly, positioned them to face him, and lifted them up.

For a few seconds, there was no response from him. I saw him staring under my skirt, at my thong. His erection remained as is. In fact, there was some movement under his loincloth, as if his dick was moving and enlarging and enjoying the view.

He started fanning under my skirt. I was enjoying it. But I wanted to take it further ahead. Ramu was a servant, and in India, servants are supposed to be obedient. So that gave me an upper hand, I thought.

"Ramu, there is a lot of sweat down there. Wipe it off," I ordered.

Again, there was no response from him for a few minutes. The fanning stopped abruptly. And then I felt his breath on my thong.

I looked down. He was sniffing my thong! What a pervert! Let's see where this goes.

He started moving his fingers on my inner thighs to wipe the sweat. Then he slid his fingers inside my thong. He ran his fingers through my tiny pubic hair, the hair outside my pussy lips, and touched my clit.

I shivered at his touch, it felt good.

"Payal Rani, it's not just sweat here," he said.

"What else then?" I replied instantly. "Check quickly."

His fingers touched my pussy, clit, and the opening of my vulva. Just the opening.

"It's slippery, wet, does not appear to be sweat." He put the finger in his mouth. "It is salty. It looks like you are wet, Payal Rani."

I knew I was. And I knew what I wanted him to do next.

"Clean it. Wipe it off. Take off my panty," I told him.

He waited for a few seconds, then inserted both his hands inside my skirt, grabbed my thong from both sides at the waist, and rolled it down my legs.

As he removed it completely, he took it in his palm and exclaimed, "It's so tiny! Smaller than a handkerchief!" And started sniffing it.

He is a perv, I thought. But enjoyed the sight of him sniffing my wet panty.

He then started rubbing 2 of his fingers on the lips of my wet pussy. The more he rubbed, the wetter my pussy got.

He did not stop. Kept rubbing my pussy and clit. I was now leaking badly. He touched my asshole and tried to wipe it.

"This is not working," I told him, as I got hornier and wetter with every passing second. "Clean it with your tongue."

There were a few seconds of pause as usual. Then I could feel his breath on my naked pussy. He was sniffing again!

"What are you doing?" I got irritated.

"It smells so good," he replied. And then he put his tongue on my wet cunt and started licking.

Rivers of pleasure swept through my body as his tongue went in and out of my pussy hole, around the edges, on the lips, on my clit, and even on the opening of my butthole.

"It tastes good too," he smacked his lips while lapping up my juices.

I closed my eyes and started moaning. Softly at first, then louder and louder. I kept leaking and leaking and shivering and moaning.....

And then, my juices came out. I climaxed. Loudly. It was such an intense orgasm, the most intense of my life so far. Rivers of juices came running out of my cunt and flooded his face.

He licked and licked, and lapped up the last drop of fluid oozing out of my pussy. Then he licked my butthole, which was also covered in the fluid.

He looked up. I smiled at him in satisfaction. His face was glowing in the dim light of the lantern. It was covered in my white juice -- white juice on his nose, lips, his chin, and even his moustache.

"Why me?" he asked.

"What?" I could not understand.

"Why do this with me? You must be having a boyfriend. An American boyfriend. Why me?" he inquired.

I sighed. "My boyfriend is lazy and a moron. He spends more time with his PlayStation than with me."

"What's that?" he had never heard of PlayStation.

"Video games," I replied.

He did not understand. But he stood up and said, "You should not wear any undergarment here, Payal Rani. It's very hot, power cuts occur throughout the day. You should let your private parts breathe."

"What?" I laughed at his bold suggestion.

"Yes. Underwear will make you sweat and itch. Do not wear any as long as you are here in this house. There is nobody here to notice, except me." He went on to add, "You should air your privates more."

I could not believe that our property caretaker of 20 years was giving me such a dirty advice. He must have been encouraged by the incidents of the last 30 minutes.

"Is that why you don't wear underwear?" I tried to match his boldness with mine.

"No. I have never worn underwear in my life. Nobody in my village did while I was growing up," he replied. "Now, it has become a habit."

It was time to turn my attention from my crotch to his. He was standing next to my bed. The bulge in his loincloth was as big as ever. And I noticed a big round patch of wetness at the tip.

Must be his pre-cum!

"Ok, let me see what you have got," I said. "Take off your tank top."

He took off his tank top immediately and threw it on the floor.

I have never seen Ramu's naked torso before. Since childhood, I have seen him in shirts, Indian kurtas and tank tops. He had hair all over his body -- shoulders, arms, chest, belly, back.

Thick, dense, curly, black hair.

His belly was huge. Bigger than your typical beer belly. But I was more interested in what he had 6 inches below his belly, hidden behind his loincloth.

"Let me take this off," I said, and removed the knot of the loincloth at his waist while sitting at the edge of the bed. The loincloth dropped silently to the floor.

Wow! I was right! What were hidden under it were much bigger than his belly.

A thick hairy bush. A giant black cock pointed right at me. And 2 enormous balls -- the size of potatoes -- covered in dense curly hair.

In the half dark, half light, semi lit-up room, Ramu stood like a naked hairy beast. The veins on his massive black cock were bulging out like the branches of a tree.

The tip of his cock was shining in the light of the lantern. I touched the tip with my finger. A sticky, gel-like liquid stuck to my finger, and stayed stuck even when I pulled it away.

It was an extremely thick pre-cum, and it had a very strong smell. I wanted to taste it, but the smell put me off.

I brought my face closer to his dick, and the smell became stronger. Like some strong bleach. His balls had the same smell too.

"You stink!" I said, and removed my face from his dick. "It's like an Amazon rainforest down here. Why don't you shave?"

"Shave what?" he seemed surprised.

"Shave this jungle," I tugged at his hairy bush. "And your balls. They look like potatoes covered in wool!"

He looked genuinely confused. "I am a man. All men have hair down there. Why should I shave? How can I shave? Nobody shaves his balls in my village."

What a primitive uncultured beast, I thought. He is still stuck in the Stone Age. Men shave their balls and groin regularly these days, maybe not in rural India. But there's no point in arguing with him.

"I will not suck your dick unless you remove all that hair," I told him in frustration. "And you have to wash your dick, it stinks."

He walked to the other side of the room, opened a cupboard, and took out something. Then, he walked over to me and put that thing in my hand.

It was a tiny bottle of coconut oil. Widely used in rural Indian households.

"Use this, and your hands. I don't need your mouth." Saying this, he tore off my mini skirt and removed my t-shirt in 2 swift motions, and threw them on the floor below.

"Lie down, face up," he commanded in an angry voice.

I lay down on the bed, fully naked, slightly nervous at the change in tone of his voice. He stood right above my face, his dick pointed straight and upright.

"Massage my balls with oil," he ordered again.

I poured oil on my palms, and started applying on his balls. They were huge. I could not fit them inside my palms. And they were heavy, very heavy.

"Now, massage my cock," came his next order.

I applied oil on his cock. With both hands. It felt as if I was holding a thick iron pipe. Covered in oil, it was shining in the dim light of the lantern.

"Now, keep sliding one hand back and forth on my cock," he ordered. "And rub my balls with the other hand."

I did as I was told. I could hardly grasp his balls with one hand, they were so big. And my tiny little hand looked like a stick on his tree-trunk sized dick.

"Keep squeezing, keep pumping. Faster, faster," his voice became louder, as his cock got harder and bigger.

Pre-cum liquid started dripping off the tip of his cock onto my throat and neck. The smell was overbearing, but I kept going.

Seconds went by. Minutes went by. I kept pumping his rod and squeezing his nuts. My hands started aching. I felt tired.

Just as I was about to give up, he started to fuck my hand. He pushed and shoved his dick on my palm with force. He grabbed his balls over my fingers which were already cupping them, and squeezed hard.

And then he cummed with a loud grunt. Like an animal.

Spurt after spurt of warm, thick cream started falling on my body from above. Like a waterfall. Chunks of white cream fell on my throat, boobs, nipples, belly button, hair and face.

And he squeezed the last 2 drops on my lips. I opened my mouth inadvertently. And the fluid trickled inside.

It was thick, sticky, very sticky. And had that strong bleach-like smell.

Ramu picked up his loincloth and tank top from the floor and walked out of the room. He did not say a word. I laid on the bed for sometime, and then went to the bathroom with the lantern that he had left behind.

I stood in front of the mirror and held up the lantern. I could not recognise myself. Every inch of my upper body was covered in thick, white cum. I had cum on my hair, nose, lips, boobs, belly. Dollops of semen were stuck to my body like glue! They were not trickling down, just stuck in place.

I was bathed in semen. Ramu had given me a semen bath!

I picked up some of the cum from my face and placed on my tongue. Salty, sticky, creamy -- is this what freedom tastes like?

Day 2

I woke up early the next day and took a shower. Last night, I had to take a shower for 30 minutes to wash off all the sticky cum from my body. I took another long shower this morning, and decided to go downstairs for breakfast.

Electricity had returned early in the morning. But it was still very hot. So, I decided to heed Ramu's advice. Before going downstairs, I changed into a nightgown, and did not wear any bra or panties.

Breakfast was ready and I greeted Ramu with a "Good morning!". He greeted likewise. He was wearing another loincloth and tank top today.

While having breakfast, I noticed that he was staring at my boobs, and the impression of my nipples visible from under the nightgown.

To distract him, I asked, "Where is your room, Ramu?" He replied, "On the roof, right above your bedroom."

As I finished breakfast and began to go to my room upstairs, Ramu said, "I am going to take a bath now. Lunch will be at 1.00 pm."

I went to my room, called my parents and talked to them, chatted with a couple of friends for sometime, and texted my boyfriend.

I kept thinking about last night's incident, and started feeling restless. My restlessness increased my curiosity, and I decided to go to the roof to check on Ramu. Let's see if he has finished his bath.

Wearing the same nightgown (and nothing else underneath), I climbed the stairs going up to the roof. And stood frozen at the door at what I saw.

There was a tiny room in the middle of the roof, with a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. Standing in front of the bathroom -- on the roof -- was Ramu.

He was buck naked! There was a big bottle of coconut oil lying at his feet. He was oiling his body, standing under the sun.

For the first time in my life, I saw Ramu fully nude in broad daylight. Last night, it was under the dim light of the lantern. This time, the hot sun was shining right above his head.

His oil-covered black cock was also shining under sunlight. It was half erect. His large hairy testicles were hanging low between his legs, and moving left and right as he massaged himself.

Now, this man was not very tall -- about 5 feet 8, but he was built like an ox. Tree-thick arms and legs, big round belly, large hips. And he was really hairy. His chest, belly, shoulders, arms and legs were covered in dense black curly hair. His back, and even his hips had excess hair. But the thickest growth of hair was between his legs -- his pubis and testicles.

Suddenly, Ramu's gaze fell on me. For a moment, he stood speechless. I stood frozen too. Then he turned towards me.

"Payal Rani, do you need anything?" he asked, without trying to hide his nudity.

"No, I just wanted to check on you," I replied, and began to turn away towards my room.

"Come here for a moment," he said.

I walked towards him, not sure what he had in mind. I was not sure what I had in mind, either. But I felt wet between my legs.

"Would you mind rubbing oil on me?" he asked politely.