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They sat in a comfortable silence after Xavier's spontaneous and impassioned outburst, sipping their drinks and listening to the music. He identified the Japanese jazz playing as one of Eri Yamamoto's new CDs and mentioned that to the lady who was very impressed with his knowledge. They talked about music in general, and then more specifically about the blues and jazz genres, getting progressively engrossed in a subject that both seemed to be passionate about. Their drinks finished and Xavier dutifully complied with his hostess' suggestion for another round of Highland Park with a dash of water.
He was getting a slight buzz as the choral strains of the Goshu Ondo Suite wafted through hidden speakers. As Lady Gayatri talked in her mellifluous undertones, Xavier listened. He watched the red soft bow-shaped lips move as she spoke, allowing the honeyed tones to pour over him; he looked at her neck and the slight graceful movement of her shoulders every time she gestured with her hands.
The room was cozy and warm, blanketing Xavier in a comfortable shroud that had a tapestry with intertwining threads of night music, dim golden light, and the heavenly bouquet of an intoxicating single malt. The royal princess lady sat curled up in her large padded recliner, wearing a white satin collared shirt and a pair of tight skinny jeans that were faded to the colour of washed denim. Her feet were bare and the toenails painted wine red. Xavier's eyes however were locked on to her bosom, eyeing the gap between buttons that seemed to strain at the swell of her breasts. The shadowy darkness behind the slit of her shirt's buttoned placket was broken by a contrasting fragment of white, a small segment of her brassiere.
Ogling her while she spoke, Xavier felt a stirring in his groin as he adjusted his position on the sofa; he was also feeling a little grimy with dried perspiration on his body after the physical activities of the day. Uncomfortable with the improperly lustful thoughts that were beginning to invade his mind, he swallowed the last of his drink and stood up.
"Ma'am, I realise I was rather late coming home and I'm sorry for having disturbed your evening. I'll say goodbye and let you relax."
"No, Xavier," Lady Gayatri said, "we're celebrating. Let's have another drink." They talked some more and after a while she suddenly asked "So, do you have a steady girlfriend in college? They must be all fawning over you, especially now that you're on the way to becoming a star athlete."
"No, I don't have a girlfriend," Xavier replied when he realised she wasn't just being rhetorical.
"Well, then, have you had sex? Have you made love to a woman?" Lady Gayatri asked quite brazenly.
The question caught him off guard, making him intensely uncomfortable as memories of Bai-Ma flashed through his mind. "Ummm! Yeah, sort of."
"What does that mean? Sort of? Either you have or you haven't." Even though the lady had a disarmingly innocent smile on her face, Xavier was getting extremely awkward at this barrage of personal questions.
He gave her a shy smile in return and wondered if she was getting as high as him, but somehow managed to bring the conversation back to his request for leaving her and returning to his room. "Ma'am, I'm feeling a little tired and grubby myself; I'll go back to my rooms and I must have a shower."
The lady uncurled her legs and slid off the recliner, standing to her full height before walking a little unsteadily, only a little, towards him and the bar. "I insist on your staying, Xavier. You can go in there and have a shower while I pour us a drink," she said, waving towards the door that Xavier had presumed led to her bath and dressing area. Even though the words may have sounded a little imperious, she softened the look on her face and pleaded with her eyes.
He was as startled with her suggestion as he had been when she kissed him on the mouth earlier in the evening; never sure of how exactly to react. He thought of the fact that he had no fresh clothes and wondered if he should use that as an excuse to leave; or should he just wear the same garb and not put up an argument? Thinking to himself, he was sort of enjoying the evening with Madame, but he hesitated and stood unmoving with an empty glass in his hands. He was looking at her as she poured the drinks, the tantalising surge of her bosom and the taut stretch of the silk shirt as it tapered down to a flat stomach, tucked into her jeans. He saw, in profile, the firm roundness of her buttocks encased within the denim and told himself he really must leave and go back to his digs.
"Shoo!", she waved with a free hand, "hurry along and have that shower so we can have another drink once you're done." The lady did not sound like she would brook any argument so Xavier turned around, pushed open the door and stepped into her private chambers. The lights came on automatically as his physical movement activated the sensors. On his right was a wardrobe that stretched almost two metres but the wooden sliding doors were in place so he couldn't see inside. He continued to walk till he reached another door, this one made of frosted glass; he could see that a light behind it was already lit.
Pushing the door open, Xavier stepped into the most luxurious bathroom he had ever seen in his life, beyond anything he had even imagined. More lights came on around the mirrors and ceiling as he moved about, fascinated at the decor which was more like a living room than a bathroom. There were planters with green fronds and ferns, there was a reclining chaise longue, there were six feet tall mirrors all around, shelves and glass-fronted cabinets with a plethora of toiletries and unguents, and an overall aroma of the most pleasing fragrance. At the far end was a jacuzzi bathtub and a glass shower cabinet with more soaps, shampoos and hair conditioners.
After absorbing the plush luxury of the bathroom, Xavier began to disrobe by first removing his shoes and socks which he placed in one corner. Immediately, he felt the warm marble tiled flooring and was astounded at the extravagance of something so pamperingly luxuriant; there was almost something sensuous about the feeling of warmth on the soles of his feet. The mirrors in every direction reflected his tall body as he began to strip his clothes off; when he was in his underwear, he stopped to look at himself. He knew he was fit; flexing his pectoral muscles and tightening his abs, he saw his lean musculature and felt the power in his body flow through his veins and arterial pathways. He dropped his briefs and his hands went to his penis as he lifted the thick meaty length of the flaccid organ, feeling the blood begin to course into it.
Still wonderstruck at the heated flooring, Xavier shuffled across the smooth tiles towards the jacuzzi and the shower cabinet, feeling the warmth radiate from his soles up his limbs towards the rest of his body. On a sudden whim, he squatted on the floor and then placed his buttocks on the heated marble, stretching his legs out before him. His testicles touched the ground and the sensual delight of the warmness excited him further; he stroked his phallus and felt the tumescence grow in his palm, getting heavier and fuller as he lay back supine on the floor. The warmth was directly on his back, his bum, the rear of his thighs and on his heels as he lowered his head to the ground and wallowed in the sensation.
Lady Gayatri had poured the drinks, preferring to have hers straight up with no ice or water. She dropped a couple of cubes into Xavier's glass and then sniffed the aroma from her own tumbler. Taking a delicate sip of the whisky, she placed both the glasses on a round table and turned to go the lavatory because she needed to pee. When she reached the door to her dressing room, she realised that Xavier was inside her loo so she headed to the other corner of her palatial bedroom where a smaller toilet housed another WC and bidet.
With a glass of red wine and two single malt whiskies already imbibed, the Lady was happily inebriated and her thoughts were constantly being invaded by mischievous ideas of what she wanted to do with Xavier. With the hint of a devilish smile at the corners of her lips, she turned back towards her private sanctum, stopping en route to pick up the whisky glasses. She carried the tumblers, one in each hand, and pushed open the swing doors with her shoulder. As she was walking across the carpeted length to the bathroom door, she hesitated; for a moment she stopped to think of what she was doing, and how atrociously she was behaving. But the daring, and slightly wicked, streak won even though she had no idea what exactly she was going to do.
Lady G placed the glasses on a stool and slid open the doors to her massive wardrobe. She removed her shirt and her jeans, put them on a cabinet behind her, and extracted a long rust coloured kimono-like dressing gown from the closet. She stared at her reflection in the full-sized mirrors attached to the wardrobe doors and felt proud and comfortable with what she saw; firm round breasts encased in a white demi cup luxe brassiere and a pair of matching panties over her recently shaved pubis. Her stomach was flat and there was no sag to her derriere. Slipping her hands through the silk sleeves of the robe, she tied the belt around her waist and picked up the whiskies before moving to the frosted glass swing door that led to the bathroom.
Lady Gayatri pushed open the door with her left hip and entered, expecting to find Xavier naked in the shower cabinet amidst a steamy shroud of vapour. But whatever she was expecting, it was nothing compared to what she actually saw; the door had opened silently and she stood transfixed as she looked at the boy lying on the floor with his massive phallus standing erect as his fist stroked its length. He was lying perpendicular to the side of her jacuzzi, his head against the acrylic external face of the bathtub and his feet pointed towards her. His eyes were shut and an euphoric glaze seemed to have washed over his face.
The Lady stood unmoving for more than a minute, captivated by the sight of what she thought was the perfect male body in all its redolent glory. She took in his muscles and the ripples that were etched across his bronzed physique, his long untidy curls of hair that framed the sharp features of his face, the raw jungle of his pubic hair and the masculinity of his huge rod. To her eyes, in those seconds when her brain was still coming to terms with the vision in front, the length of Xavier's manhood and its steely thickness were almost frightening. Although she was not fully coherent about the feelings going through her body and mind, the pressure in her bladder and the tingling in her groin were co-mingling into a heady cocktail of libidinous desire and lust.
Like the Lady, Xavier too was basking in the heady mix of alcohol, the novelty of the sensual warmth from the floor, and the exultation at the end of months of ambitious preparation for his sporting achievement that day. But when he heard the faint sound of whisky glasses being kept on the vanity counter-top, his eyes shot open and his hands instinctively tried to modestly cover his pubic region. Unable to fully conceal his massive erection, he began to raise his torso off the ground and bend his knees with the idea of hunching over his genitals in another attempt to hide his privates from the Lady's view. At that moment, he couldn't remember ever having been so embarrassed.
But he saw Lady G begin to walk towards him with one hand raised; she was pushing her palm downwards, and accompanying her gesture with whispered words that he only caught when she was standing next to his feet. "Stay down where you are, Xavier. Don't get up. Please." Her voice had a throaty rasp to it as she stood above him and stared down at his face, his chest, the hands trying to cover his huge cock and the hair at the base of the shaft.
Like he often did in the presence of women that were beyond his social and financial class, Xavier was beginning to feel a little intimidated as he looked at the lady towering over his prostrate naked body. But when she began to loosen the belt around her waist, albeit holding the two sides of her bathrobe together, he stared up at her with bated breath. The top half of the housecoat had parted sufficiently to reveal her large breasts and the deep cleavage between the cups of her brassiere. And when she took a small step forward, her left leg became visible all the way from her thigh to her ankles. He even spied the edging of her panties as she took another step forward.
Before his mind could penetrate the hedonistic fog that had enshrouded him, Xavier was looking up directly at the crotch of her panties; she had placed her feet on either side of his waist and dragged her feet in tiny mincing steps till they bracketed his chest, her toes almost embedded in his hairy armpits. When she removed her hands from her waist, he realised that the Lady had completely unknotted the belt of her robe as the two sides of the front parted.
Lady Gayatri moved her limbs a few inches backwards before lifting her right foot and placing it on the outside of his thick biceps. Xavier, still a little traumatised, tucked in his arms, bringing them between her legs, and kept them straight along his flanks as she lifted her other foot and stood astride him. From his position on the floor, he looked up along the sleek inside of her thighs as they rose in a long V till they met at the gusset of her panties. The prominent bulge of her outer labia pushed against the fabric of her underwear, and the cameltoe wedge of her vaginal slit was like a crevice in deep shadow.
Xavier's instinct was to raise his hands behind her and reach for the lady's buttocks, feel the perfect contours that he had spied earlier when she was wearing her skinny tight jeans, maybe slip his palms under the rim of her panties and grope her bare flesh, but he was still afraid and too mesmerised by what was happening to him. He looked above the white panties and saw the flat stomach that was almost translucent in the bright illumination of the bathroom, her belly button in deep shadow. He saw the underside of her breasts, filling the cups of her bra as they projected in flawless symmetry above him. And beyond that, her beautiful face, framed by the short shiny black hair that hung around it, was bent forward as she looked down at him.
The lady was unable to control herself any more as she held apart the folds of her dressing gown and began to bend her knees. Her thighs separated as she descended towards Xavier's face; she placed her left knee on the floor next to his right arm while her other knee was raised as she kept her foot on the ground.
Xavier wondered if the alcohol was finally playing games with his mind as he saw the crotch of his landlady's white panties approach his face; when it was barely two inches above his mouth, he inhaled the new odour that suffused his olfactory senses. The provocative aromatic miasma of perfume and sex washed over him like a drizzle of some decadent concoction and he felt his penis begin to harden again as she pressed her covered groin against his mouth. Before he could react, she was pushing herself against him, gyrating the silky underwear over his lips and his chin as she moved her hips in a lazy circular motion. He saw and felt the wetness in her panties as it moved across his face, the musky fragrance intensifying the carnal hunger that was ripping through him.
On instinct, he opened his mouth and pushed the tip of his tongue into the gash in her underwear as she lowered herself on to his mouth. He heard her moan, a deep guttural sound emanating from her abdomen and rising out of her throat as he felt the lady's fingers entangle into the locks of his hair. The silken flaps of her bathrobe tickled his unshaven skin on the sides of his face as he continued to further dampen her panties with his tongue, raking through the fissure between the bulbous outer labia of her vulva. He tasted the tangy acidic flavour through the fabric, adding his saliva to the wetness as she continued to grind herself against him, moaning almost soundlessly as her arousal level rose.
After a little over a minute, Lady Gayatri hooked a finger into a leg opening of her underwear and pulled it to the side, exposing the smooth mounds of her pussy lips and the clean fissure of her vaginal opening. Xavier was thirsting for more of her and his mind was no longer traumatised at the turn of events the evening was taking; in fact his brain seemed to have stopped all logical thought and gone into autopilot. He pushed his tongue into the Lady's cunt and sucked in the juices that swilled around her vagina. He tried to move his mouth along the length of her pussy but she was pushing hard against him, constricting the movement of his head as she sat on his chin and jaws. A finger from the same hand that was pulling aside her panties was vigorous rubbing over her clitoral hood while her hips pirouetted over his mouth.
Xavier brought his hands up behind the lady's back and when Lady Gayatri felt him touch her skin, her thighs involuntarily closed in against his cheeks and her muscles tensed as she felt an intense lust-filled wave ripple through her body. Xavier tried to look up at her but the curtain of hair had put her face in shadow and her bra-encased breasts filled much of his field of vision. So he shut his eyes and gave himself completely to tonguing the lady's vagina, letting her soft groans and sighs wash over him with its erotic melodiousness. The sweet metallic taste on his tongue was now like heavenly nectar, a palatableness so intoxicating that it drowned his senses completely.
It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes but when Xavier suddenly felt an absence of all movement on his face, he thought he had been feasting on the delights of the Lady's cunt for the entire evening. He opened his eyes and saw that she had raised her knee off the floor next to his arms and was now on her haunches, resting on both feet, her smooth alabaster vulva a few inches but directly over his face. Her head was thrown back and he could see her neck stretched backwards and the underside of her face; both her hands were at her crotch, one stretching aside the panties and the other directly on her clitoral hood.
Before he realised why Lady G had moved from a half kneeling to a crouching position, he heard a loud groan from her and saw a sudden jet of liquid squirt out of her cunt. She stretched back her inner lips and Xavier saw the clear fluid stream out of her urethra in an arc that caught him on his forehead before he could shut his eyes. He moved his head slightly and let the warm urine splash over his cheeks and his lips, feeling strangely comfortable as the flow bathed him in its shower. This was the first time anyone had pissed on him, but he felt an acute sense of intimacy from something so personal, so private; he felt as though the last vestiges of any barriers between the Lady and himself had evaporated into nothingness. Not for a moment did it occur to him that there may have been something kinky, something perverted, in her royal highness' behaviour.
Xavier wanted to feel the warmth of her golden shower all over his body but he could only move his head and allow the liquid to wash his face; he tasted the faint saltiness of the Lady's urine as he manipulated his mouth into a position to receive the splash on his lips. He felt the fingers of one of her hands claw at his hair and he opened his eyes again to look up at her. This time, her head was bent forward and she was looking down at her piss bathing Xavier's face as she hunched lower and brought her cunt against his lips. The last dribble of her discharge eased into his mouth as he sucked on her bare pussy, his tongue cleansing her hole as she groaned in a loud languorous sigh of ecstasy.
