The comment section has been restricted to members only due to the spammers and other idiots. Please feel free to PM your comments to me. Lucky Mann

Indian Delight

It had been a long, dark, and stormy day in central New Jersey. A large hurricane had broken up off the coast of the Carolinas, and its remnants were moving up the eastern seaboard. I had not been anxious to tackle the 14-hour drive home in such a storm.

So, I had slept a little later than usual. It was late morning when I finally checked out of my motel room near Patterson, NJ. The desk clerk warned me of the approaching storms. Road conditions were expected to deteriorate and become hazardous. I had a hard time believing that road conditions in New Jersey could get much worse than they were under the best of circumstances.

As I headed south, traffic on I-95 was practically bumper to bumper. In the constant rain, it was moving slowly, but moving. Occasionally, an intense thunderstorm cell would pass through the area and make driving even worse. I seemed to be making very little progress.

I should have expected nothing less than a hurricane as I headed home. A hurricane was a fitting way to end a stressful week in the New York City area. In spite of the weather and traffic, I was relieved to be heading south, toward my home in rural eastern Georgia.

I had not been in New York City on a pleasure trip. My job as a private investigator had taken me there. I had spent most of my time in New York City in the seedier areas of Brooklyn and The Bronx. A forty-four-year-old, balding, over weight, white man can easily get himself killed working in some of those areas. Though I had successfully completed my assignment, I was still feeling the stress of being an outsider in some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in America.

Travel was becoming exceedingly slow. By late afternoon, I had only gotten to the northeastern edge of Philadelphia. Traffic on the I-95 expressway had come to a complete stop.

A short time later, I heard the truckers on my CB radio reporting a major bridge ahead had been closed. The truckers were saying the bridge would probably remain closed for several days.

I tuned in a local FM radio station on my car’s stereo, and the announcer soon confirmed the truckers’ bridge reports. The closure had resulted from damage to the bridge’s approaches due to storm related high water and wind. In addition to the storm surge on the coast, many of the smaller streams in the region had swollen beyond their capacity and were flooding. Alternate routes were either closed or as badly backed up as I-95.

Seeing the futility of trying to continue driving south, I pulled off the interstate, and headed for a Holiday Inn I knew to be nearby. I had previously stayed at that particular motel while working a case in the Philadelphia area. I secured one of the last rooms they had available, dropped my luggage in the room, and went to their restaurant for dinner.

The dinning room, like the motel, was filled to near capacity. The dinning room staff was short handed due to storm related absences, and they were struggling to keep up with demand. Some of the customers were complaining. Too many people, who seem to think they were the only ones who mattered, were loudly complaining about the slow service.

I have found that if I treat the staff well, they will do their best for me. Even so, it took a little longer than normal to get my dinner. But then, I wasn’t going anywhere anyway. Neither were the complainers.

My dinner finally arrived, and it was delicious. I was enjoying my steak, onion rings, and a glass of wine when I noticed a young lady walk into the crowded restaurant. She was a very petite, dark skinned, beauty with long flowing black hair. Her facial features indicated to me she was of Asian Indian ancestry.

She appeared to be alone. There were no empty tables. I had a table for four to my self. So, with a broad smile, I got her attention and indicated the chair across the table from me. I offered the young lady a seat. “Would you like to join me and sit here?”

The young lady seemed shy and hesitant. She cast her eyes to the floor and did not respond.

At first, I thought I was getting a brush off. I then remembered some of my high school world geography lessons. India no longer had a caste society. However, many of the women from there were not nearly as assertive or self-confident as most of our American ladies are. They were seldom allowed to make decisions without a father or husband’s approval.

So, I stood, pulled out the chair for her, and spoke with a firmer voice. “It may be a while before another table opens up. Sit here!”

She hesitated a few seconds more, then responded. “Thank you! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all. I am traveling alone and will enjoy the company. Now sit down, please.” I told her.

“I am hungry, and I really don’t want to wait for another table.” A smile was beginning to brighten her face.

As she sat down, I handed her my business card, held out my hand to her, and said. “I’m James. Please call me Jim. What brought you here on this stormy night?”

Shaking my hand, she answered. “My name is Damini. In India that means lightning. I’m going to visit family in Atlanta. I have a cousin who is getting married down there in a few days. Why are you here?”

Thus, started a long evening of conversation between a beautifully petite, twenty-three-year-old girl and a man old enough to be her father.

Damini was soon feeling much more comfortable about spending time with a stranger. She began to open herself up to me. She had been born in New Jersey, but her family had clung to their Indian culture. They had kept tight control over her. Even when she had attended an out of town college as a resident student, she had been required to go home every weekend.

I found Damini fascinatingly different, and I enjoyed listening to her.

Her dinner arrived, and Damini agreed to share a bottle of wine with me. By the time we had finished eating, the wine was also nearly gone. At my invitation, Damini moved to sit closer to me.

As we finished the last of the wine, I said, “Please, join me in the lounge for another glass of wine. Maybe we could share a dance as well.”

Again she hesitated, before agreeing.

I picked up both dinner tabs and left a tip. We then headed to the lounge. As we left the restaurant, Dimini walked quietly behind me with her head slightly bowed.

I stopped in the hallway and turned to face Damini. I gently took her by the hand, pulled her up beside me, lifted her chin with my hand, and told her. “Damini, you are an American woman in America. Women here do not follow behind their men. Walk beside me.”

For the first time that evening, I saw a warm smile on Damini’s lips. She continued holding my hand as we walked into the lounge. She and I enjoyed another glass of wine while we chatted in the crowded and noisy lounge. When the live band played a slow tune, I took Dinimi’s hand and guided her to the dance floor.

As our first dance began, Damini seemed very tense and held me at a distance. Whether it was my charming and disarming manner, or, more likely, the wine she had drunk, she slowly began to relax and let me pull her closer.

As the music played and we moved to its rhythm, she told me that was the first time she had danced with a man without members of her family present.

When the music stopped, I lightly kissed her cheek. A broad smile slowly spread across her face. In return, she softly kissed me on my lips. When we broke the kiss, we remained in the middle of the dance floor holding each other until the next tune started. As we stared into each other eyes, a hard driving rock and roll number brought us back to reality. With a firm hug, we returned to our table.

When we had finished our wine, I offered to escort Damini to her room. She told me she hadn’t checked in yet. Knowing the crowded conditions at the motel, I feared she may have waited much too late to get a room.

I accompanied her to the lobby, where she was told there were no rooms available.

I asked about other motels in the area, and was told they too were full.

Damini looked a little panicked. She looked at me and asked. “It’s getting so late. What am I going to do?”

As is my natural instinct, I took control of the situation. Facing Damini, I took her by both hands and said. “I have a king-sized bed and a nice big sofa in my room. You will stay on the sofa tonight. (I’m generous, not stupid) Now, where is your car? I will bring your things in.”

Turning to the desk clerk, I said. “Please have some extra bedding sent to my room.”

With her hands slightly trembling in mine, Dimini gazed into my eyes for a few seconds before saying her car was parked behind the motel.

We walked hand in hand to her car. As luck would have it, her car was parked just a few spaces down from my ground floor room. In no time, I had her suitcase on the luggage rack provided by the motel.

As she opened her suitcase, and began setting her toiletries on the bathroom counter, there came a knock at the door. The bedding had arrived.

While I made up the sofa for her, Damini disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower running and Damini singing a song in a language I didn’t understand. When she reappeared, she was wearing an extra long T-shirt as a nightgown. She was indeed a rare little beauty. She stood less than 5′ tall and couldn’t have weighed much more that 95 pounds. She appeared to be nearly flat chested under the T-shirt. Her slender belly and nicely rounded butt were enticing as were her shapely legs. Her dark skin seemed to be glowing.

She came toward me, stopped, put her arms around my neck, gave me a firm hug, a soft kiss, and said. “Thank you.”

She smelled delicious. I had an urge to scoop her up, lay her on the bed, and have my way with her. However, common sense prevailed, and I merely returned the hug and kiss.

Since it was getting late, we released each other and, she headed for the sofa.

After turning off the lights, I undressed and turned in as well.

Neither of us seemed to be able to fall asleep. After an hour or so of tossing and turning on the bed, I very quietly ask. “Damini, are you awake?”

“Yes! I can’t sleep.” She replied.

“Neither can I. I can’t seem to get you off my mind.” I told her.

“I’ve been lying here thinking of you, too.” She said just above a whisper.

“Why don’t you join me here?” I asked, as I patted the side of the bed nearest her.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I should.” She hesitantly answered.

“Get your beautiful little butt over here, Damini.” I gently ordered.

Damini instantly complied. As I lifted the covers for her, she climbed in bed and scooted toward me.

I cradled her in my arm and pulled her firmly to my chest. Laying side by side, facing each other, I gave her a long passionate kiss.

Damini slowly responded. She returned my kiss and hugged me tightly.

I began nibbling her ear, kissing her neck, and rubbing her back through her shirt.

She cooed softly, scooted closer, and brought her soft flat belly up to mine.

With another passionate kiss, I gently pushed her onto her back and began rubbing her belly. Slowly, very slowly, I rubbed my way up to her breasts. When I squeezed one of her small breasts, she inhaled sharply but made no protest. Though her breasts were small, as befitted Damini’s petite build, large nipples topped them. Her nipples were soon standing very hard and erect.

As I continued massaging her breasts, Damini began cooing again. I had slowly worked her shirt up until her breasts were fully exposed. Sliding down a bit, I took a hard little nipple into my mouth and sucked.

“Oh!” Damini gasped.

I increased the pressure of my sucking on her nipple and flicked my tongue over it.

Damini began rubbing the back of my head while moaning louder and louder.

I continued massaging her other breast. Little pinches and nips to her nipples only increased the pleasured responses from Dimini.

When she began slowly, almost imperceptibly, rocking her hips, I let the hand massaging her breast trail softly down her belly, into her panties, and to her thick black pubic bush. Stroking her bush, almost as if I was grooming it, brought more pronounced hip thrusts from Dimini.

In the mean time, she had begun to slowly spread her legs.

Releasing the vacuum grip my mouth had on her nipple, I returned to her lips for another firm, tongue dueling, passionate kiss. As I pulled her face tightly to mine, she raised her hips to meet my hand. I moved the hand that had been stroking her bush a little further down and fully cupped her soaking wet crotch.

Damini gasped sharply and said. “I’ve never….”

“Shhhuuuuush, baby. It’ll be OK.” I told her. “Do you want me to stop?” I asked.

“No! I just don’t know what to do.” She whispered.

“That’s OK, honey. I can show you all you need to know. I’ll be gentle with you. OK?”

“OK!”

We resumed petting, and when her hips were again responding to my hand’s attentions, I spread her outer lips and toyed with her virgin inner lips and hole with my fingers. When I grazed her clitoris, Damini lifted her butt completely off the bed and held my hand tightly to her pussy with both of her hands.

I partially inserted a finger gently into her tight little hole and stroked slowly. Her pussy was soon producing even more of her lubricating juices.

I quickly removed her shirt and panties and tossed them to the floor.

Returning my hand to pet her pussy, I quietly asked, “Are you ready, Baby?”

“I think so.” She replied.

I rolled on top of Damini, and she spread her legs wide to accommodate me. I reached down and placed the head of my cock at the opening of her pussy. With a quick, short push, my dick’s head spread her outer lips and partially entered her.

She gasped.

Wrapping both my arms around her, and kissing her with all the passion I had, I stroked in and out of the first inch or so of Damini’s tight pussy.

She began responding with her own tentative hip thrusts.

I soon felt she was ready for the next step. Holding her firmly, I shoved my dick fully into her virgin pussy. I felt her hymen give way as my cock passed through.

A gasping cry escaped Dimini’s throat as her virginity was swept away, but she continued to hold me tightly. We lay locked together without moving for a minute or two. My body almost completely covered hers. Holding Damini tightly, I remained fully buried in her tight pussy. Continuing to kiss her neck and ears, and lips seemed to help Damini get past the pain that resulted from breaking her cherry.

In a short time, I could feel her body relaxing beneath me. Only then did I start slow and gentle strokes in and out of her tight pussy. All the while, I smothered her face and neck with kisses.

She was soon eagerly returning the kisses.

I had never felt anything quite like Damini’s pussy. Even though she had just lost her virginity, and was still extremely tight, she produced enough lubricating juices to make my stroking smooth and easy. My dick felt like it was snugly wrapped in wet warm velvet.

Gradually, Damini began timidly returning my thrust. I was soon taking full, deep, strokes into her depths. Her thrusts were becoming more and more forceful as well. Then, with little warning, she tensed and lifted her ass completely off the bed. “Oh my! Yes! Please, don’t stop!” Her voice was ragged as her orgasm overtook her.

In the mean time, I took several hard and deep thrusts into her freshly opened love hole, hugged her tightly, and slammed fully into her. Holding my cock deep in Damini’s freshly devirginated pussy, I pumped a load of hot cum deep into her core. Her cervix was bathed in its first taste of cum.

We stayed connected, and I nibbled her ears and neck until I softened. Only then did I slowly pull out and rolled off of Damini’s small body. She was glistening with perspiration. We cuddled and talked until falling asleep about 20 minutes later.

Some time during the night, I heard the shower running. The combination of Damini’s juices, my cum, and a little blood from earlier in the evening had made quite a mess of her legs and ass.

I was awoken in the morning by the sun shining brightly through the gaps in the curtains. I reached out to hug Damini. She was not there.

Sometime during the night, she must have packed and continued her trip to Atlanta. Or, was Damini just a dream? Was she just a figment of my imagination?

No! She was not a dream. Damini had been very real. The evidence of her presence was still in the air. Her perfume lingered mixed with the scent of sex. The reddish stains on the sheets bore positive proof I had not simply dreamed of her. Damini had been there, but all I had left was my memory of her.

The memory of Damini will stay with me a long time. Her petite, dark-skinned body, shy manner, delicious perfume, and the special gift of her cherry will linger in my memory forever.

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