The Women of Rishi Ch. 04

This is my story of gaining informed and insightful maturity. The changes to where I am now were as a result of a great deal of chance combined with the mentoring of a few. My contribution to my own education was only to be receptive to an intelligent instruction. There was minimal cleverness or inspired moves on my part except of those that were made unconsciously through sheer masculine instinct.

I figured my learning would be instructive to others like me. It might be entertaining to a few as well.

My super short sojourn on an unusual 'business trip' had big yields. I had the hitherto unknown or even unthought of pleasure of taking on two beautiful women. Even though in a seriously inebriated state during one event, I remembered one that occurred on the morning after.

The above experience gave me an unwanted cockiness that I was imbued with the seduction skills to conquer any woman. That confidence was perhaps rooted in the fact that I had gone from a shy and hesitant youngster to a rather crafty Casanova in about two years. I had also roped in women who were older and perhaps needed more convincing reasons to have sex with me.

Those were my rather arrogant thoughts about my exploits. Then this happened.

Snaring a Star; Driving a Bitch

My good friend Craig, who had unwittingly opened the doors to my previous adventures, did it again. This time he introduced me to Alberto De Zilva, who ran a limo service and wanted a chauffeur; again, he reiterated that he would be happy with someone like me. I had a driving license, of course, but Alberto would like to try me out and if selected the money was good. The icing on the cake was that I could choose my engagements while I continued my present full-time job.

The driving test was done in one of the four limos he owned and parked in his large driveway. A few chauffer language skills were smoothened out and some rules and guidelines were shared. I met one of my future colleagues doing the same job. Alberto was even thrilled I could speak two Indian languages.

Obviously, I could only take on this job in the evenings or weekends. It was now late fall and rapidly running towards a crisp Canadian winter. The first six weeks or so, I had a sprinkling of business folks and politicians, all from out of town of course, that were quite stiff as expected. They were uniformly standoffish, often absorbed in their phones or other devices or papers and some quite rude and arrogant. I was tipped with a condescending twenty-dollar bill most often and rarely a bit more. The trips were mainly to and from hotels to conferences, offices, railway stations and airports. The human side was rather pathetic but the money was good. Christmas, with its magnificent festivities and colorful spectacles came and went. As did the snow storms and icy conditions.

I was not exactly looking forward to a pickup from the airport for a certain Indian lady CEO named Ms. Kavita Sihota in the new year. Another pompous, self-aggrandizing piece of shit is what I was thinking when I held a placard with her name at the arrival hall. Among the passengers of many shapes and colors as you would expect in Toronto, I saw a tall woman in an expensive looking olive-green winter jacket and black pants and boots crane her neck to browse the many placard holders. She settled on mine and lifted her hand with an index pointing upwards to indicate that she was who I was looking for.

I walked up to her as she wheeled her trolley of luggage and she may have had a negligible smile in her eyes, just above her black mask.

"Hello Ms. Sihota! Welcome to Toronto." I greeted her cheerfully. "I am Rishi from Zilvaline."

She simply nodded as I offered to push her trolley for her out of the terminal. I thought it was only polite to inquire about her flight and she muttered: "It was OK," in the most uninterested way.

She was as stiff and unfriendly as expected and I shrugged myself mentally to accept it. I also noted the many eyes of appreciation of her poise, even behind her mask, follow us as we walked. I would have been very proud to be her escort except for the Zilvaline name and logo embroidered on my chauffer wear shirt pocket giving me away. We crossed over to the huge multi floor parking garage with her walking stylishly behind me and stood out of my sight even in the elevator. When I reached the limo, a Cadillac Escalade and loaded her luggage I looked back by chance and she had her mask off. It struck me at once that she was extraordinarily attractive but my own pride prevented me from looking at her for more than a second as I opened the door for her.

On our drive back, I took the risk of glancing back through the driving mirror as she was conveniently seated on the right side; a few seconds each time to avoid being seen looking. She was about thirty and had impeccable features with perfect symmetry and a very light brown skin that was possibly cared for by a cosmetologist. She had dark brown streaks in her short hair with a healthy glow that cascaded around her oval face. If this was indeed a business tycoon, I concluded that a big fraction of her business came through people liking to deal with her. That was one nasty sexist thought, I chided myself.

I also decided, in all humility that she was way above my league and in any case, she was largely uncommunicative during the forty-five-minute drive. She only condescended to ask me to confirm that I was taking her to the Fairmont Royal York hotel on Front Street and with my affirmation, she clamped shut for the rest of the journey.

On arrival at the magnificent hotel porch, I stopped away from the traffic, got out and opened the door for her. I noted that she waited for me to do my duty and I briskly got a luggage cart from the foyer and loaded her stuff. In the absence of any of concierge or porters I thought I might have an outside chance of accompanying her to her suite; my admiration for her beauty and the resultant desire to see more of her was not eroded by her smugness or aloofness. That was me, I guess with my hot hormones! Of course, that was not to be as when she was checking in somehow a porter came up to me to take over the cart. I went over to Ms. Sihota to take her leave when she stepped up to me to stuff me a tip in my palm. I thanked her sheepishly, realizing that I was indirectly requesting a gratuity when I went up to her.

Meanwhile, I had a few chats with Suja, who was getting quite friendly and nice and whenever she and I had the time and her snoopy uncle was not around. I told her about my new glamorous client and I could sense that she was not very impressed! We never spoke about our drunken little intimate episode.

Within the next week or so there were four more round trips for Ms. Kavita Sihota, all in the evening, to a club, a restaurant, a hotel conference hall and a residence in the posh Bridle Path area. The commonality in all these trips was Ms. Sihota's stoic unfriendliness, though she slipped a couple of twenty-dollar bills with a terse 'Thanks' every time. Also observed on each occasion were the envious and appreciative eyes that glanced in her direction. She certainly turned the proverbial heads!

It was Alberto's assistant when she called for her next trip for shopping on Saturday that I heard something even remotely positive from Kavita Sihota. I heard that she had asked for 'that Rishi guy' to be her chauffer but admittedly there was no sign of any familiarity or warmth when I picked her up.

We drove up to the plush Bayview Village mall and dropped her at the entrance while I went to park. There was a slot just nearby and I slipped in. Then, theatrically, I saw Ms. Sihota slipping at the entrance and landing rather hard on her posterior. It was a day after a heavy snowfall and there was possibly some black ice on the walkway. I ran to help her as she stayed down apparently in shock. She held on to my hand as she got her up and turned to look at the mess her coat was in.

"Are you OK? I mean no pain anywhere?"

"No, I am OK." She replied looking around. "It's awfully embarrassing."

I helped her into the mall entrance and walked towards the closest washroom. I picked up copious amount of paper tissue to clean off the wetness and road dirt that was caked with ice and salt on her long winter coat. A woman pushing a cleaning cart offered to help while a security guy appeared to make apologetic noises. He did not miss checking her out in every lewd way possible. Thinking that we were a couple, the woman suggested that we go into the family washroom to cleanup. We glanced at each other and Kavita was the first to move in and I followed with some pads and paper offered by the good cleaning woman. It was Kavita also that shut and locked the door.

"It's best to keep people out." She explained as my poor heart was racing with imaginary possibilities.

With the help of the pads and paper and the toilet paper she wiped her coat clean. Then she took the garment off to dry it in the electric hand dryer. She had on a pair of tight black trousers and it was the first time I saw her shapely hips and butt. She was not in any way over endowed; she was just right. The breasts too were classically proportionate under a pale-yellow long-sleeved top. I also realized that she was a few shades fairer than the average Indian woman.

She was incredibly beautiful!

There was still some wetness on her right hip area and I pointed it out to her. She started and then said: "Do you mind..."

Why would I in my craziest dreams ever mind that! I took the pad and started dabbing her hip and part of her butt and upper thigh with nervous excitement. Especially when I was walking her curves with a thin tissue I felt how soft and feminine she was.

She then looked down and with a brilliantly beautiful smile for the first time, thanked me. I was on cloud nine and the few moments that I felt her hip area got carved in my brain forever. When she smiled, I also saw very familiar features. I delved into the deepest recesses of my memory to recollect but was unsuccessful. Who the hell did she resemble?

She did a quick bit of shopping and I dropped her back with she, very obviously slipping back to her bitchy beautiful self.

Fuck her, I thought. She was arrogant, snooty and vain. More importantly, I was as far below her radar as anything imaginable. So, I will be the glorious preferred chauffer that I was, and that was, emphatically that!

I went home showered to wash myself off the remining crumbs of the unpleasant memories of a rich bitch and... the phone rang. It was Suja and she always called me as agreed upon. I was not to call her.

"Hi!" That was an excited me.

"Hi! How are you?" She sounded as sweet as she usually is.

"I am fine. Haven't seen you for a while. You're OK?"

"Yes I am. Thanks. Uncle and Aunty have gone out visiting. I have an hour at least. How's it going for you?"

"I am fine. Hey, why don't we Facetime?"

After a bit of a hesitant silence, she replied: "OK. Give me a minute."

I waited for more than a minute and connected with her. She had obviously combed her hair and wore a cheerful bright blue top. "You look great!"

"Thanks."

"Look, why don't we go out somewhere?" My eagerness to see her was blatant.

"You know my situation. Except work and the occasional shopping with them, I am under continuous surveillance." She produced a mirthless chuckle. "Aunty is cool, actually. She asked me if I had friends that I want to meet and even hinted about a boyfriend."

"And you said..."

"Of course, I said nothing. I was being truthful."

"You didn't say about a boy you made out with in Bruce Peninsula?" We hadn't talked about that event in our chats ever before.

"Don't embarrass me, OK?" We were quiet for a while. "What do you know? You couldn't even remember anything."

"Yeah, sorry." I was genuine. "It felt good somehow; like something incredible happened to me."

"You liar!" She looked angry. "You did not know who you were doing it to. That's outrageous. The only thing you said was that I had small boobs."

"Did I? But you have a lovely butt."

"Yeah I know." She made a face. "Even my mum used to say that when she was mad at me in the kitchen. She used to ask me to get out as there was no space because my ass was too big!" She laughed. "I think it's a little too big."

"False. Just right." I thought a while when she looked like she enjoyed the compliment. "Tell me, Suja, what happened that night? How was I so drunk but seemed to have done all that stuff. And how did you get in there with me?"

"Oh my god! It's so embarrassing." She looked up with a shy smile. "Yeah, how did you do that unconsciously? Surreal! Sonia was... was like giving you oral. Yeah? Look, I was a bit drunk too. She was making those slurpy wet sounds and that was sexy alright. Then you started moaning and I got kind of turned on. Gosh, I am so ashamed." She covered her face. "I guess it showed on my face and Sonia started taking off my clothes and I sort of felt it was OK. She also turned off the lights and pushed you onto me. You then took your wallet and pulled out the condom and put it on yourself. I sort of turned towards you and you... you parted my thighs and slipped in!" She suddenly looked surprised. "Oh my god! What are you doing?"

It was impossible for me not to get excited myself and started feeling myself to hardness. "Nothing." I lied even though my movements and facies revealed my covert actions.

"Let me see." She asked.

"Sure." I said while moving the phone down.

"No, no!" She covered her eyes again. "It's OK. You can do it, or whatever. I don't have to see."

"Do you want to do it too? It will be fun."

"No thanks."

"OK, go on. What happened afterwards?"

"Oh lord! I am dying. I was such a slut! You know... No, I won't tell you."

"Come on, Suja. Be a sport. It's not as if we are strangers. And... and I actually like you a lot." I was honest.

I saw her expression soften up and she wore a very sexy half shy smile of resignation. I didn't miss the dimple. "I was really turned on. I do it to myself in that same position; I lie on my side and let demon inside and I enjoy. So, it was like me on my own but hugely better. I heard you moan and groan and then you came. I came with you!"

"Demon?"

"No, it's D, hyphen M, A, N. D-Man. It's a girl toy."

"Oh, I see." She meant a dildo. "Can I see it?"

"No!" She almost yelled back. "Please do it. I want to see your facial expression and sexy moans. Please?" She obviously wanted to shift the focus away from herself. There was a pleading look in her eyes that was too exciting.

I pulled my shorts down, took out my hard cock and stroked myself slow and purposeful. My eyes were on her and she kept looking at me with a sort of a serious face. I went faster and the pants and moans followed.

"Oh, my! You are really enjoying yourself! Come on!"

I didn't need more stimulation. I squirted my load into a ball of tissue and as I climaxed with my eyes half shut, I thought I heard a single groan from Suja as well. "Did you do it too?"

"No. Of course not! Just seeing you was enough for me." Though the one I had with Kristine a century ago was sexier, this was more engaging as I liked this girl more. I told her and thanked her for being nice to me.

"Look, sweetie," I switched to my best voice tone, "let's meet somewhere when you are able; like when your folks are out. Please? I want to see you."

"I would like that too, but it is unlikely as my uncle and aunt are never away for that long and if they plan to, they always take me with them."

"I understand. It may happen like you had the weekend off when we went for the shoot. Just try, and text me when you have a chance, OK?"

"OK." She sounded enthusiastic much to my satisfaction.

We said our goodbyes. It would be nice to really fuck her when absolutely sober; draw her to me grasping her awesome butt globes and kissing her pointed little boobs. I knew we were getting close and that she was getting to like me too. I was excited about that.

Meanwhile, in spite of my busy schedule I kept my gym workout going. I did more than justify the heavy membership subscription if not becoming a total iron pumping fitness freak. Rather, I was pleased with the way I looked and felt about myself.

Winter was relentless in its dumping of sheets of snow fairly regularly. The winter wonderland part of the visual spectacle had a price tag of slippery road conditions and icy sidewalks. Though, living in an apartment complex excluded me from shoveling snow, I still had to deal with grueling commutes every day, often after dark.

It was both a good and a bad thing when I was called to pick up my patronizing client, Kavita Sihota from Muskoka, a resort area about two hours away from the city. She had apparently gone there with friends and for whatever reason required a ride back early on Sunday. Zilvaline, quite thoughtfully, arranged for a night stay for me at a local place to avoid the treacherous road conditions after a copious dump the previous day. It was good, as the compensation would be fat and bad as the company I had, was expected to be as cold and chilly as the damn weather.

I drove after work and pleasantly found the roads all ploughed and salted dry and quite safe. I checked into the modest and quiet little guest house, had a bite and prepared to go to bed when my phone rang.

It was Kavita Sihota. What the heck?

She sounded extra ordinarily friendly, and asked me how the drive was. Then she went on in a hushed voice. Obviously, others were around. "Listen, can you come over to the cottage, please? I need some company to get out of an awkward situation." Hmm... what was that all about? "It's nothing to worry. Just for about half an hour or so. And, please don't wear your chauffeur shirt." Giggle. "I told them you were my friend!"

I agreed. I did have some questions and wondered if I was getting into something I might regret. Anyway, I told myself I will handle it and went over to the cottage that was only ten minutes away but down a dark unlit narrow road. I even had to use my phone flashlight to confirm the number above the door of a largish cottage.

I rang the bell and got the whiff of pot! These guys were up to no good, I thought. It was Kavita that opened the door and she gave me that brilliant smile she produced at the mall when I was cleaning her muddied coat.

She looked smashing in tight blue jeans and a loose top. She led me in gripping my elbow down a hallway to the right. Just past a kitchen, there were four others I was introduced to. Mona, Kavita's school classmate in India her friend Ron and another couple form Barbados, Caspian and Julie. They were really a kinky foursome in colorful attire with jewelry and beads, braids and tattoos and all save Kavita appeared drunk or high on something.

They were friendly, though and offered me some bites and beer and asked if I wanted to smoke in the verandah and I politely declined. I had a beer and some dry sandwiches and was still trying to read the scene when a single happening drove in the reality.

Toronto rapper, Drake was singing on the stereo, Hotline Bling and the couple from Barbados got up and started swaying. Julie had on a pair of denim shorts that was riding below her butt crack. Her sleeveless shirt with huge armholes was also unfriendly in winter. The cottage was warm, though. Caspian grasped her smallish behind and began massaging and squeezing her butt. He even sent a hand down inside her shorts but drew it out quickly. They clung to each other whispering, giggling and kissing. The other couple were smooching in a corner. Their hands seemed to be roaming all over.

To break the awkwardness, I walked up to one of the huge glass windows and looked out at the pines decorated with blobs of snow. Spread on the huge expanse of brilliantly white landscape there were leafless shrubs and trees also dressed in a snowy lining. I took out my phone to take a picture which I did. Then my finger accidentally hit the camera flip button for selfies, and I saw Kavita and Mona having a word. I didn't know why but I took a few shots of the duo. Those shots became useful later on.