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Obsession 04 Future Tense

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Erotica by Mary Jorsay Gandmar

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NOTE: This story may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT

be sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.

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Copyright 1998,

Mary Jorsay Gandmar

<maryjg@finebody.com>

OBSESSION

4

FUTURE TENSE

Over the next three years, Deepika became one of Hedon & Venery's

most accomplished whores. By the time she was twenty, she had

fucked more men than most women did in a lifetime. She loved the

sex, and the money was astonishingly good. Her parents, never

suspecting the truth, were fed stories of her rapid promotion

through the ranks of the hotel's administration. They never tired

of telling others about the money she made, the authority she

wielded, or the long hours she put in at work. Spending money on

fine clothes and expensive jewelry, she was better groomed than

anyone else in the middle-class neighbourhood. Her parents were

proud of the fancy car, provided by the hotel, with a chauffeur in

a smart uniform who collected her each morning. They did not know

that he was one of her lovers; that Hedon & Venery had given her a

superbly furnished, attractive one-bedroom apartment where she

could entertain her lovers; that there she had a retinue of

servant lovers, men and women; that Deepika had moved up two

grades in the sex rankings and now had a choice of clientele and

venue. Favoured customers were entertained at her apartment.

Deepika also did a number of films and still-shoots for

pornographic magazines. Her features did extremely well in the

foreign countries where they were circulated, and there was a

demand for more. When she was nineteen, Hedon & Venery sent her

abroad - ostensibly on a management training programme - but in

reality to spend time and gain international experience at the

company's branches in Stockholm, Dubai, Cannes and Rio de Janeiro.

Deepika had a wonderful time; she took in all the tourist spots,

shopped like it was going out of style and, best of all, had

endless hours of the most glorious sex. She did several live-shows

in Stockholm and Cannes with a number of men and women, shot

several film sequences, whored for rich Arabs in Dubai and made

passionate love to a succession of men in Rio. On the way back,

she did a number of hard-core magazine centrespread shoots in Los

Angeles. Hedon & Venery's international divisions were unanimous

and effusive in their praise.

Back in Bombay, Deepika returned to her sex-work at Hedon &

Venery. There was an endless list of customers to satisfy. Deepika

had developed a liking for lesbian sex and enjoyed performing it

live. She had a live-show scheduled at least once a week, and made

a new film every two months. In addition, there were the magazine

spreads and the orgies that Hedon & Venery catered to, and the

wild in-house bashes. At Gautam's office, selected clients, peons

and staff members had to be satisfied. She never forgot her

beginnings, either. She got Mohan and Dinesh jobs at Hedon &

Venery and sometimes, with luck, they partnered her in a film, or

on stage or for a magazine shoot. The sex with them was always

good and occasionally she took time off with them, spending long

hot afternoons fucking furiously in her pretty little flat.

And there was always Gautam himself. Frequently, he asked her over

to spend the night - she told her parents she would be out of the

city - and they spent hours fucking. She never tired of being

fucked by him. After all these years and all these men, he was

still the finest fuck she knew.

Marriage was the furthest thing from her mind. Deepika saw no

reason to get trapped into a humdrum, boring existence, cooking

and sweeping and swabbing. Her parents' middle-class background

undid her.

Slowly at first and then, faced with her obduracy, with increasing

stridency, they began pestering and nagging her to get married.

She wasn't getting any younger, they said, to raise a family she

would have to do it soon. The longer she waited, the more

difficult it would be to find a suitable match. boys don't exactly

grow on trees, her mother sulked. She was qualified now, and well

off in her own right, there would be no trouble finding a good,

respectable young man. She was beautiful and talented and what

more could anyone ask for? Deepika protested; she had a career,

she said, she just wasn't interested.

"What career-*shareer* you are all the time talking about?" her

mother shouted. "What you think, married women don't have jobs?

Look at me! For twenty years I have worked, day and night, rain

and shine!"

*Yes*, Deepika thought bitterly, and look at you. Exhausted by the

commute, with no money to show for it, seldom travelled in India,

never abroad and, once quite pretty, now bloated and dull,

indifferent to clothes and food and music and books, glued to the

blasted television set. She kept her silence. She felt she owed

everything to her parents and did not have the courage to confront

them.

"Yes, all right," she mumbled and stumbled out of the house in

tears.

Downstairs, her car was waiting. The driver, a handsome, muscular

Goan stud called Savio, held the door for her. He flicked a glance

at her as she got in and then, without a word, got into the car,

started it and pulled smoothly and silently out of the compound

and into the traffic. Only when they were well away from the house

did he address her, speaking over his shoulder without turning his

head.

"Trouble, ma'am?"

Although Savio was a regular lover and, when in bed, treated her

like the whore she was, at work he maintained the formality Hedon

& Venery required of its staff in public places beyond its veiled

boundaries. Deepika stared moodily out of the window and didn't

reply. Savio flicked a glance at her in the rear-view mirror and

saw the slow tears coursing down her cheeks. He dropped the

facade.

"Deepika?" he murmured. "You okay, babe?"

She sobbed softly. Savio drew up at a red light and looked down at

the clip-board on the seat beside him. It had a typed list of her

day's schedule. Her first assignation was not till mid-afternoon;

she had the morning free.

"I'm going to the flat," he announced softly.

Deepika couldn't have cared less. She felt terrified, hounded and

at bay. She couldn't imagine a life without Hedon & Venery,

without the money and friends and, most of all, without the

exhilarating sex.

They arrived at the towering apartment block where she had a flat

and Savio slotted the car neatly into her reserved parking space.

They rode up the elevator together in silence. The house was

quiet, serene, beautifully furnished, with a stunning view over

the sea and the bay. French windows at the far end of the hall

opened onto a long and broad covered balcony with a wrought-iron

table and matching chairs. Her servants, Kisan and Radhika, stared

at her in dismay as she went past them without a word and

disappeared into her bedroom. This was not the Deepika they knew.

She was invariably cheerful and friendly and always chatted with

them. Both servants frequently shared her bed and she enjoyed

having sex with them. They looked questioningly at Savio who put a

finger to his lips, motioning them to silence. He went to her door

and knocked gently. There was no reply. He tried the knob; the

door was open. He went in, leaving it ajar. Kisan and Radhika

stole after him, peering in, their expressions worried and

concerned.

Deepika stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom that

opened on the balcony, staring out at the glittering sea. Savio

approached her quietly.

"Deepika?"

She didn't turn around. He went up to her and gently put his hands

on her shoulders. Deepika bit her lower lip, stifling her slow

sobs and, closing her eyes, leaned her head on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he murmured. "Tell me. Let me help."

Deepika shook her head. Savio pressed his lips to her head and

cheeks and drew her closer, caressing her shoulders and arms

gently. Deepika took a deep breath, calming herself. Slowly, she

turned around in her chauffeur's arms. For a minute she paused

with her head bowed against his chest. Then, slowly, she lifted

her face to his and slipped her arms around his neck.

"Fuck me," she said huskily. "Fuck me hard Savio. hurt me."

Savio looked down at her in concern and saw the deep wells of pain

in her eyes. He shook his head sadly.

"C'mon," she grated, between clenched teeth. "Do it!"

She writhed against him with an angry hunger, kissing him

fiercely. Savio was an accomplished stud and he swiftly modulated

his mood to hers. Within minutes, he was fucking her demonically

on the bed, ramming his cock violently and savagely in and out of

her flesh. For the next hour, Deepika made him fuck her

repeatedly, in every orifice, demanding more, wanting to be fucked

harder and deeper. A series of shattering orgasms crashed over

her, leaving her moaning breathlessly. At last, as he came in her

anus, burying his cock deep in her rear-channel, then sliding out

and squeezing it into her cunt, she sank down on the bed, her body

glistening with sweat, her chest heaving. He fucked her cunt for a

few minutes and then slid out of her and lay on his back beside

her. She snuggled against him, caressing his powerful body and

thick penis.

"Thank you, Sav," she murmured. "I needed that."

"Babe, you'd better talk to the boss about this. Whatever it is.

Looks bad."

She didn't reply. Her lips fluttered over his.

"You want more?" he smiled.

"Always."

"Whore.'

"Always." She giggled. "What's my schedule for the day, d'you

know?"

"Of course. You're free till three, when you've got a one-hour

booking. Five-thirty to seven you're on show."

"Oh good. What's it this time? Do I have a lesbo turn?"

"Yeah. With Tanu. Followed by a three-stud wildcard draw each."

That meant six men from the audience would be invited on stage to

fuck the two girls, three men taking each one simultaneously.

"What time is it now?"

He glanced at his expensive Rolex, a gift from a satisfied female

client. "About eleven."

"Plenty of them then."

"Yeah. What would you like to do?"

"Fuck."

He laughed, squeezed her breast. "That I know. *How* is the only

question."

"Outside. I want to watch the servants. And then I want to fuck

them."

"*Both* of them?"

"Both of them."

He laughed and helped her out of bed. Outside, he called to the

servants and told them to start fucking. They understood and moved

to the centre of the hall. Deepika liked watching the servants

fuck. Savio smiled tenderly and pulled her back against him as

they stood and watched. Bending, he pressed his lips to the nape

of her long neck, cupping and lifting her lovely, luscious

breasts. They swelled and grew turgid in his hands, her nipples

stiffening immediately.

Both Kisan and Radhika were full-time employees of Hedon & Venery.

Kisan was a rugged, handsome, muscular man in his mid-twenties.

Broad in the shoulder, with powerful, bulging arms and legs, a

flat, hard belly, a deep chest, high, narrow hips and a big,

eight-inch long and correspondingly thick penis, he was

clean-shaven, with the hard, masculine features of a Maratha

warrior. thick brows swept over his dark, deep eyes. His nose was

strong and straight, his lips full and sensual. His hair was thick
and cut short. His torso was sexily hairless with small hard

nipples pulled wide and low under his armpits. Over the past three

years, Deepika had spent many hours thrashing under him - he was a

powerful, demanding lover. At Hedon & Venery, he was highly rated.

Radhika, too, was one of Hedon & Venery's finest. At seventeen,

she was svelte and dusky and lovely, with a ripe, superbly curved

body - full, high, sloping breasts, luscious and succulent and

tipped with long, stiff nipples set in dark, puckered aureoles, a

flat belly, flared hips, smooth and slender limbs and wrists and

ankles with shapely hands and feet. She had a long neck and her

face was pretty - oval, with a fine, slim nose, gleaming white

teeth, lovely doe-like dark eyes rimmed with *kajal* and long,

silky black hair she wore in a braid. She wore a small nose-stud,

earrings, finger-rings and a long gold necklace.

Kisan was fucking her on her back, bent over on his knees and

outstretched arms. He thrust into her with a slow, skewering,

scrunching action and, beneath him, the teenager gasped and cried

out, her back bowing and arching, her hips bucking up at his. Her

neck craned and her arched back, her mouth wide open, her eyes

fluttering, her nostrils flared. She gripped Kisan's bulging

biceps and wrapped her legs around his lean hips.

"OHHHHHHHh uhhh Oh ma uhh *hanh* uhhh Oh Kisan!" she cried.

Savio grinned and slid his hands down to Deepika's crotch. Her

cunt-juices were flowing freely. She murmured softly as he began

masturbating her. On the floor before them, the two servants

gasped and grunted. Kisan continued fucking the teenage

maidservant with deep, punishing thrusts, thrusting his cock

unhurriedly in and out of her slit. They hit a steady rhythm.

"Mm ... oh ma uhh *hanh* ... uhh *hanh* Kisan ... *chodh* *mujhe*

... *hanh* ... *aise* ... *chodh* ... *jorse* *chodh*,

*madarchuth*! That's it ... fuck me like that ... fuck me harder,

motherfucker!" the girl gasped.

"*Chul* ... *chul* *rundi* *chul* ... *le* ... *le* *mere* *lavde*

*ko* ... *hanh* ... uhhhh *hanh* uhh *hanh* uhh *hanh* *aise* ...

*chul* *saali* *kutti* *rahnd* ... *pura* *le* ... take it ...

take it you fucking bitch ... take my cock! C'mon whore ... take

it all!" he panted.

Deepika's loins crackled with excitement. Pulling away from Savio,

she moved to the copulating servants. They slowed as she came to

them. Smiling wantonly down at them, she spread her feet on either

side of Radhika's head and lowered herself in a deep squat on her

face. Radhika loved licking cunt and immediately thrust her tongue

up into Deepika's slit.

"Mm ... ohhh yes!" Deepika gasped, squeezing her breasts in her

hands and lifting her face. "Ohhhhhh uhhh yes ... *hanh* ...

uhhhhhh *hanh* ... *chaat* ... *chaat* *mujhe*, Radhika ...

*chaat* *mere* *chuth* *ko*! Lick my slit!"

Kisan grinned and leaned forward, thrusting into the maid under

him. Deepika took his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily,

writhing her crotch on Radhika's face. Kisan bent his head to her

breasts and began sucking them sharply. Deepika gasped, writhing,

and called to Savio over her shoulder.

"C'mere, you," she gasped. "C'mere and fuck my mouth!"

For the rest of that day, Deepika relegated her troubles into the

background and revelled in sex. Her client that afternoon was a

muscular, powerfully built man in his early forties. He was

extremely rich and paid well; but he demanded complete

satisfaction. He had booked her for an hour, and in that time he

fucked her incessantly, taking her at will in every orifice. That

afternoon, Deepika outdid herself, fucking him like one possessed.

When at last he finished with her, fucking her on her back in the

ass, thrusting his eight inch cock deep into her rear channel and

groaning as he exploded, spewing burning jizz into her anus,

pulling out and forcing his cock into her cunt again briefly and

making her groan thickly, he complimented her on her services. She

smiled happily and told him to fuck her again. On the house, she

said, because it was so good. The man laughed softly and fucked

her smoothly, taking her powerfully till she was writhing and

thrashing frantically under him. They came together, finally

sated. He left her an enormous tip.

Later, the live-show was a thundering success. On stage, Deepika

and Tanu fucked each other with wild abandon, using a

double-headed dildo. Tanu leaned over her, thrusting greedily in

and out of her cunt and then two studs came in from the wings and

sodomized them. The audience went wild. When the impresario

announced the lucky draw for the wildcard three-stud, there was a

near riot. The six lucky men jostled each other scrambling to the

stage. The two girls were pinned between three men each and,

within minutes, their bodies were thrashing and writhing

frantically as inflamed penises sawed in and out of their cunts

and mouths and anuses.

The next day, back at Hedon & Venery, Deepika sent word to Gautam.

He called back and immediately asked if she had a problem. It was

unusual for a girl to call him at work.

"No," she said softly. "Not really. At least I don't think so. I

don't know."

He was silent for a minute. Then he said, "Come home tonight. This

sounds serious."

"Not tonight. I have to be home."

"It's Friday tomorrow. Take the weekend off."

"Can't, Gautam. I've got a film and two live-shows. Plus a long

list of guys."

"Cancel them. They'll find substitutes."

"Not on the films."

"Cancel them. I'll talk to Hemant. Bring your bikini. We'll go to

the beach place."

Deepika took the weekend off, telling her parents she'd be in

Calcutta. Gautam took her to his fabulous beach house. They

arrived and went to bed straight away, fucking hungrily for over

an hour till they were sated, at least for the nonce. They lazed

in the pool, had lunch, watched one of Hedon & Venery's latest

pornographic films on the state-of-the-art laser-disk player, a

film featuring some of Hedon & Venery's finest whores and studs.

While she watched, masturbating with a large dildo, Gautam fucked

one of the maids. Then she had one of the men-servants fuck her

and the four of them formed an intertwining quartet so that it no

longer mattered who was fucking whom in what orifice. They slept

for three hours. They woke slowly, and Gautam fucked her gently

again, taking his time, moving gently at first and then faster and

faster till the teenager was screaming for release, mouthing a

litany of obscene love-calls. Getting out of bed, they strolled

naked on the beach, wading and swimming, chatting. As the sun

began to set, Gautam finally turned to her.

"So. What's the trouble?"

Deepika smiled gently. She knew that he had deliberately kept from

asking her throughout the day and, instead, had made her relax,

putting the pressures behind her. She arched on her toes and

kissed him gently, her naked breasts brushing against his chest.

He held her waist and slipped his tongue in and out of her mouth.

"You're a darling," she murmured. "Thank you."

He smiled, cupping her breasts, toying with her erect nipples.

"Fuck me," she said huskily.

His smile faded. "No, not yet. Soon. Later. First I want to hear

about this."

"Tell me something."

"What?"

"Do you always take so much care about the girls who work for

you?"

"Always. Each one is special." And, with a grin, "Some more than

others."

She laughed softly. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Hopefully. Now talk."

Deepika took a deep breath and began to speak. He bent his head

and listened without interruption, absorbing every word. Arm in

arm, they strolled up and down the beach, wading in the water,

kicking at the rippling surf. There was a silence when she

finished. She let it run for a bit as they walked.

"So. There you have it. And I don't know what to do. I really

don't."

"It may not be as bad as you imagine," he said at last, slowly.

"I've known others who've got married and kept on working. Others

who've come in *after* marriage. They tell their husbands they've

a job and they come in and whore."

"My parents aren't going to find me a guy who'll think like that.

They'll find someone thoroughly middle-class who'll want me at

home cooking and cleaning and keeping house for him."

"You can't be sure of that."

"Believe me, I'm sure. I know my parents."

"And you can't hold out on them, either, can you?"

"Not indefinitely. It'll hurt them too much. It'll kill them. I

don't want that."

"Nobody does."

"And there's no question of a divorce."

"You can't go into a marriage on the footing that it'll end in a

divorce. It has to be the other way around."

"So where does that leave me?"

He stopped and turned, taking her by the shoulders and brushing

her lips with his. "That, my heart, is easily answered. It leaves

you here, with me, now."

"That's all? That's it?"

"Yes. That's all. That's it. You're here, with me, now, and we're

going to fuck through the rest of this weekend. Then one day soon

your parents will fix up your marriage. Then you leave us. Before

you do, complete your commitments. And I want one full week with

you, up in the house in the hills. Alone. Just you and I."

"And then that's it? We never see each other again? My life with

Hedon & Venery is over, just like that?"

"I didn't say that, did I? After that, you'll have to decide for

yourself. See how things are. Perhaps your husband will be an

excellent lover."

"I doubt that. I doubt he'd satisfy me."

"But he might."

"And if not?"

"Well then, that's when you'll have to make the hardest decision

in your life. You'll have plenty of choices - stay with him and

fuck around on the sly; stay with him and *don't* fuck around;

leave him and go on your own; but remember, our doors will always,

*always* be open to you. Anytime you want to come back, feel free.

You're one of us, and you'll always have a home."

Tears glistened in her eyes. He smiled and brushed them with his

fingertips.

"Besides, the flat and the car are already yours. You get to keep

them. We'll pay all outgoings."

She began to cry softly, burying her face against the sprawling

expanse of his chest.

"Don't worry, Deepika. Look, it's a lovely evening. We've had good

sex today, we'll have more. That's what I've always wanted to

teach you people. To enjoy each moment, to the fullest. To sate

yourself with beauty and pleasure and joy. To savour life without

reserve, to cherish the wonders of being *alive* - you *have* to

live for now, don't you see?"

His words were like magic, comforting her, enveloping her in a

warm glow of contentment and peace and security. She felt a

sudden, irrational joy surge through her body.

"You can't make your present miserable worrying about an uncertain

future," he continued. "There's no point in it. One never knows -

anything's possible, who knows what may happen?"

It made sense. The enormous burden that had weighed her down

lifted. She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with a deep,

sensual fire and gently pressed her naked crotch to his thick,

long, still limp penis.

"God, I love you," she murmured. "Fuck me, Gautam ... please ...

fuck me hard ... like a whore!"

In the low, rippling surf, Gautam drew her down on the sand and,

under a canopy of stars, with a pale moon cresting the far spur

and the sea stroking their bodies with tentative, gentle caresses,

made passionate love to her. He didn't just fuck her that evening;

he actually made love to her, taking her as much with his mind and

heart as with his body, drowning her in the power of his love.

Again and again he entered her, his cock running into her mouth,

squeezing between her breasts, crushing into her hot, wet cunt or

grinding into her tight little anus. Deepika thrashed and writhed

rapturously on the sand, gasping and moaning her joy, orgasming

repeatedly and still begging for more.

He never stopped. He stood and holding her in his arms, her cunt
impaled on his cock, her legs wound about his hips, her arms

around his shoulders, carried her back to the house. The servants,

waiting dinner, began to retreat when they saw them. Gautam

motioned them to stay.

He laid her down on the coffee-table in the hall and fucked her

furiously while the four servants looked on. She came again. He

smiled and slid out of her and beckoning to the two maids,

motioned to the two men to fuck Deepika. Settling on a deep sofa,

one maid sucking his cock, masturbating the other, he watched the

two servants fucking Deepika together in her cunt and mouth. He

pushed away the maid sucking his cock and pulled the other's head

into his crotch. The first one stood up and, spreading her legs,

clawing her cunt-lips open, moaning thickly, thrust her groin at

his face. He grinned and began licking her juicy cunt.

On the cool tiled floor, Deepika cried out thinly as the two men
began fucking her in her cunt and ass simultaneously, rocking

their swollen penises in and out of her adjacent orifices as she

lay on her side between them. Her face was contorted and twisted

in agony of lust as she thrashed between them. Gautam felt a

twinge of sadness. He knew that he did not have her for long.

There were others, to be sure, but, as he had told Deepika, each

of his whores was special. The maid in front of him groaned and

clenched his hair. He sighed softly and, turning his face, drove

his tongue into the maid-servant's wet slit.

= o =