Sweet surender

I can see the will to fight drain from the lovely young woman with the click of the door. It's just as well, some of the role-play scenarios Alison and I played out were pretty close to straight out ****-play, but that's not what I want for my first time with Riya, especially because it's her first time with anyone. “Well, ain't this a fine sight for an old man's tired eyes.” I do my best to keep the British accent, but even to my untrained ears it sounds pretty bad.

“I'm warning you, Sir.” Riya's accent is much better than mine, her words sound exotic and defiant at the same time. “You may tarnish my virtue, but you will never break my spirit.”

“Perhaps, you Paki slut,” I have not forgotten her confession about what turned her on I drop the nasty slur deliberately, “but think of the fun I'll have stretching open that tight brown cunt of yours again and again.” In as clear a sign of surrender as I'm ever likely to het, Riya allows the pink silk veil to fall from her breast allowing me a glimpse of just how young and firm golden-skinned body really was.

“Please, Sir.” Riya looks up at me shyly through her thick lashes, “I've never had a man use me like that.”

I am reminded that Riya is not just pretending to be an innocent virgin, this lovely Indian girl is almost as sheltered and naïve as that timid Maharaja's daughter. The stiffness in my khakis is starting to get a little painful, and I decide to move this along.

“Yours is not the first brown cherry I've popped in this fucking jungle.” I grin as I reach for my belt, “You little jungle bunnies squeal and cry at first, but after a while even the youngest and tightest brown slut learns to take my white snake.”

“I'm not a slut.” Riya's voice quivers softly, “I am the kamari of this ancient kingdom, and you Sir are a disgusting pig from a tiny Island nation that will never conquer this land.” Considering what I know about the history of the subcontinent, this brash declaration is sadly wrong, but I certainly appreciate the spirit.

“On your knees you brown monkey,” I growl “let's see what a proud Hindi kamari can do to serve her white master.”