I tease her until she's ready

“I have no desire to wrestle like savage.” I reassure the frightened woman, “by the time I'm done pleasing you, you'll be begging me to claim you as my little brown sex ****.”

“Never!” Riya's determined refusal to submit makes me smile in anticipation. The poor thing has no idea how easy it is for a man to use a woman's own body against her. I pick up one of the silk scarves that I had pulled from her earlier as she danced for me. It is almost five feet long, easily long enough for what I need.

Riya watches me in silence as I tie one end of the scarf firmly around her slender wrist and the other end to the corner bedpost. A second matching scarf secures her left wrist. When I step back to admire my work Riya pulls experimentally at the scarves, there is enough slack that her hands can move freely but only a foot or two in either direction.

“I can no longer fight you, Sir. I am at your mercy.” Riya does not look all that distraught by this situation, in fact I can see her legs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the growing itch between her thighs. This is going to be easy.

“I know.” I brush the back of my fingers from her neck over the curve of her small breast and she lifts her torso as my fingers drag over her puckered nipple. “I'm going to play your body like a musician strums a musical instrument.” When she realizes how eager that makes her look, she tries to bat my hand away but cannot quite reach me and moans in frustration. I couldn't have picked better length scarves for tying her down like this.

“Have mercy, Sir.” Riya's dark eyes find mine and the look of helplessness in them makes me lick my lips in anticipation. Over the past year-and-a-half of practicing with Alison, I've gotten adept at bringing a woman, even a **** one to climax after climax. No one, certainly now an inexperienced virgin like Riya, will be able to resist me once I've reduced her to a quivering mass of orgasmic jelly.

My hands move lower, exploring the soft curve of her belly and then even further until I am stroking the neatly shaved mons just above her sex.

“I see your servants have shaved you as I instructed.” Riya's moan tells me I've hit the mark. “You hairy Hindis need civilized men like me to set you straight.” A telling shudder rocks her body and I decide it's time to move on to the next phase.

“Stop that!” Her attempt to avoid my touch by rolling away is more amusing than effective, but I've waited long enough and with without further ado I reposition myself at the end of the bed between her legs and lower my mouth to her fragrant sex. In response to this sudden oral ****, Riya's hips buck and twist, but all that really does is smash her pussy even harder against my face. I hear her protest in Marathi, but when my tongue starts working into her folds those protests take on a decidedly different tone.