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Pentaprism 15 Camera Candida 6 Swizzle Stick
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Erotica from the INDIAN HEAT archives
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NOTE: This may be archived and distributed free, but may NOT
be sold or otherwise distributed for commercial gain/profit.
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Copyright 1996-97,
Mary Jorsay Gandmar
<maryjg@finebody.com>
===================
P E N T A P R I S M
===================
15
Candida
6 : Swizzle Stick
Anuja lifted the glass to her lips, sipped the drink, took an
ice-cube in her mouth and then, setting the glass on the counter,
bent forward and slipped her lips around the man's penis.
"Oh fuck yes!" the gasped, his belly sharply inwards,
his head snapping up, his mouth jerking open. "Oh yes! C'mon ...
suck it, you whoring bitch! Take it!"
Anuja loved it when they talked dirty to her. It turned her and
made her feel like the whore she was, not the *memsahib* she was
forced to be. The man's uncircumcised cock was satisfyingly large,
at least nine inches long and correspondingly thick, with a
bulging cock-head and heavy, low balls. She cupped his balls now,
squeezing tenderly as she took his cock deeper in her mouth,
deftly swirling her tongue and the slowly melting ice-cube around
his cock-head. The sensation was exquisite, and overpowering. The
groaned desperately as the heat surged in his loins,
clamouring for release. Anuja moaned deep in her throat and
harder.
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck uh yeh oh yes baby yes! Suck it! Suck it good,
bitch! Suck it! Suck my cock, you frigging whore! Suck it harder!
Ahhhhhhh yes ... that's it ... ohh ck that's good ... yeh ...
c'mon ... do it again ... here's some more ice!"
The man's name was Tony and he was a barman at the hotel. Anuja
noticed him one afternoon as she swam lazily around the pool,
attending the sunken bar in the pool. She noticed his eyes
following her and played up to him, floating on her back so that
he had an unobstructed view of her swelling through the
microscopic strips of the bikini bra, and of her crotch, mostly
exposed under the tight, sharply cut bikini that barely
covered her mons. She waited till he was alone at the bar, without
any guests on the submerged barstools and his assistant taking a
break. Then she drifted over to the bar and pulled herself up onto
a stool.
"Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?" he smiled.
Quite a lot, I hope, she thought to herself. Fuck me. For
starters. He really was very dishy. He had a clean-shaven,
handsome face, dark and tanned and his body, under the casual
tunic of the beach resort, looked solid and muscular. His
shoulders were brought, his chest deep and wide, his belly hard
and flat. His torso was V-shaped and his waist was high and
narrow. He wore a patterned short-sleeved and long shorts.
She noticed how sturdy his legs were. There was a plastic name-tag
on his pocket and she read his name with a quick flick of
her eyes. She smiled prettily at him.
"Something to drink. Long, tall, lots of ice."
"A cocktail?"
"No, something soft."
"All right, give me a minute. I've got just the thing for you."
I bet you do, she thought. "I hope it's without alcohol."
"In its original form, no. But I've got a substitute. Tell you
what, I'll mix you both and you decide."
"Fine."
She watched as he busied himself with bottles and glasses and ice
and a shaker and a mixer. He poured out two gorgeous looking
drinks into tall glasses with plenty of crushed ice and superbly
garnished with a cherry each and a twist of orange rind. The
drinks were a delicate green, fresh and summery.
"Which is which?" she asked.
"You tell me," he said, his eyes twinkling, his bright, even teeth
flashing. "Let's see if you can guess right."
She sipped one drink. It was delicious, just the right blend of
sweetness and a tangy sour-lemon flavour, with a delicate aroma
and a gentle fruity aftertaste.
"Now the other." He pushed the second glass across the table.
She sipped it and frowned. She couldn't tell which had alcohol.
Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. She sipped each again. Tony laughed
softly.
"This one's better," she said, sipping from one of the drinks
through a bent straw, swirling the umbrella swizzle stick. "The
other one has alcohol."
Tony laughed. "Sorry, ma'am. It's the other way around. That one
has the alcohol, the other's got fruit juice."
Anuja lifted her eyes in surprise. She had no palate for alcohol.
"This is excellent," she said. "I've never tasted such a wonderful
drink."
"Thank you, ma'am," he murmured.
"You're a genius, Tony!"
"I like this work. Don't often get it."
She looked at him with the straw in her pursed lips, her head
bent, her eyes raised, flashing merrily.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"It's not a permanent job. Seasonal. I get called during summer.
The other times they have a professional barman."
"You're pretty professional."
"The hotel doesn't think so."
"Idiots."
"My thoughts precisely."
"So what do you when you're not doing this?"
She plucked a cherry from the drink and held it, impaled on its
little stem, between her lips, ran her tongue around its smooth,
silky contours. It was an unmistakably wanton, lascivious gesture
and he didn't miss it, though his expression didn't change. She
waited for his answer, watching him watch her, and whipped the
cherry rapidly with her pointed tongue, then slowly it into
her mouth and rolled it around over and under her tongue. His eyes
were rivetted on her. She was gorgeous, perfect, irresistible. Her
were full and generous and he longed to hold them, cup
them, fondle them. Her mouth! What he would give to fuck that
lovely, full-lipped mouth, to bury his nine-inch cock in its wet
warmth! And her body, with those flared hips and her flat belly
... and what a face she had, sensual, earthy, the kind that would
grow radiant with passion and pleasure when a fucked her. Her
skin was lovely, too, smooth and golden, flecked with sexy little
marks; he could even see one between her breasts.
"Hey, Tony!" she snapped her fingers and grinned. "What're you
dreaming of?"
You, babe, he wanted to say. It's you. Since the day you walked in
with that husband we all know won't fuck a dame except with his
eyes and his frigging cameras. It's you I've dreamed of, morning,
noon and night and when the other tell me what they've done
with you, fuck, I could scream! Why haven't you called for me yet?
I'm better than the lot of them! I have to be, damn it! I'm the
professional gigolo on these beaches! Not them! Me!
"Sorry, ma'am," he said. "Sort of got lost."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"I'm sorry?"
"I asked what you do when you're not mixing heavenly drinks."
"Oh, um, well, nothing fixed really. Odd jobs, mostly. Sometimes
someone wants a roof re-tiled, or a drain fixed, or something.
Things like that."
"A handyman, then."
"If you like." And very handy with hot broads like you, if only
you'd ask. "Though the best is this or working with tourists on
the beaches."
"What work is that?"
"I show them around, take them to the various spots." Where I fuck
them, because they're all randy women.
"Sounds like a relaxed life."
"It has its advantages." The fucking's great and the money's good,
too.
She sipped her drink, drained it.
"Another?"
"Mm. Yes, all right. Can you spike this one?"
"Certainly."
He added a soupcon of liquor to the second drink and returned it
to her. The glass rim was frosted with sugar. She dragged her
tongue slowly around it, repeated the action with the cherry.
"Tony, tell me another thing."
"Ma'am?"
"Are you good to fuck?"
"Excuse me?" He looked at her startled. Her tone had been utterly
casual and conversational, with no reflection of the shocking
content of her words.
She looked him straight in the eye, her eyes glinting with
anticipation, hunching her shoulders slightly so that her
squeezed together and bulged in her bikini top.
"Are you good to fuck?" she repeated. "You know. Do you have a
nice big cock, do you like fucking women, that sort of thing?"
He stared at her dumbfounded. "Ma'am ... I ... you ... I mean ..."
"Oh come off it, Tony," she said. "Look, everyone in this hotel
knows what's going on. I've been fucking the entire male staff,
pretty nearly, and it can't be that much of a secret any longer.
Word must have got around by now. Don't tell me it hasn't."
He grinned slowly. "Yeah," he said. "It has. And yeah, I'm good to
fuck. That's what they tell me. Yeah, I've got a big cock. And of
course I like fucking women. Who doesn't?"
"One guess."
He looked at her and wrinkled his face in disapproval. "Yes, I
know. It's always like this. He's weird. He gets these great
broads and doesn't do anything with them."
"That's not fully accurate."
"Yes, well, all right. He doesn't fuck them. That's what I meant.
They're broads to die for and all he does is watch and go
click-click with that fucking camera."
"Camera. Plural. He has several."
"Yeah."
"Have you fucked any of his whores before?"
"Once or twice."
"Any good?"
He waggled his palm, fingers open. "One was okay. Looked great,
but too cold in bed for my liking. The others were good. Very
good. Hot stuff. He's never stayed with one for as long as he has
with you, though."
"I him. The others didn't. That's the difference."
"You could leave him."
"No. I like it like this."
"Come on."
"No really. Think about it. This is fine. I like good fucking, and
I get it. He likes watching good fucking, and he gets that, too.
Everyone's happy."
"A marriage made in heaven," Tony said with heavy sarcasm.
Anuja laughed cheerfully. "Well, not quite that high. But it'll
do. For me, at any rate. So. Just how good are you with a woman?"
"One way to find out."
"True."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"I'll come to your room."
"No. I'm bored with that. No. Here."
"The pool closes at night."
"We'll open it."
"The security will be prowling around."
"I'll have them stay off. I'm fucking the head honcho earlier.
He'll do what I want."
Tony grinned. "You're incredible, ma'am."
"Stop calling me that."
"What shall I call you then?"
"Whore. Bitch. Slut. Something sexy like that. And, if you need to
use it, my name's ..."
"I know your name."
"Good."
"What time do we meet?"
"After midnight. When the moon's up."
"The moon won't be the only thing up."
"I should hope not."
"Anything special you like?"
"What?" Anuja looked at him puzzled.
"Is there any special kind of fucking you like?"
She stared at him for a minute and then burst out laughing. "Tony,
why didn't you say so?"
"What?"
"You're a gigolo! That's it! All that talk of tourists and spots
is all rubbish. You just fuck them! You are a gigolo, aren't you?"
Tony grinned cheerfully. "Yeah. I am. Makes decent money."
"I'm sure it must do," she laughed cheerfully. "Well, my darling
gigolo, you can do just about what you like with me. I have no
special likes or dislikes. So long as you fuck me, that's fine."
"You like butt-fucks, they say."
"They say rightly. I love butt-fucks."
"Good. I like shoving my rod into a nice, hot, tight ass."
"Do it tonight then."
"Be hot for me."
She paused as she turned on the barstool. "Tony, my friend. I'm
always hot. Always."
"Good. So am I."
She laughed and sank back into the water. "Looks like there's
going to an atomic explosion tonight, then!"
He laughed and lifted his hand, waving farewell. She swam away and
he watched her climb out of the pool and move to her deck chair,
her hips swaying, her bouncing cheerfully. Several
employees looked at her and grinned. She ignored them, grabbed her
towel and began to dry her long hair. She bent over, and the hotel
staff who were behind her had an unobstructed view of her buttocks
and cunt-lips, while the ones to the side and in front could see
her full swinging pendulous, almost falling out of the
tiny bikini bra cups. Anuja was the hottest thing the hotel had
seen, and a fair number of its employees were seeing her at
extremely close quarters indeed.
Tony watched her walk away to the hotel building and her suite and
grinned to himself. She would be a terrific fuck. The gigolo
business was slack at the moment, and he was in the mood for a
good, hard fuck with a luscious broad like her. He glanced at his
watch, an expensive gift from a particularly horny Gujarati
housewife he had fucked relentlessly for several nights while her
husband sat through endless boring seminars at a motor-parts
salesmen's convention in the hotel. That woman had also been
wonderful, and well pleased with his services. Not too long, he
reflected.
"Got a date, chum?"
"What?" Tony looked around.
His co-worker at the bar had hopped in and seen him watching
Anuja. The was a handsome youth and, Tony had heard, a recent
entrant in the gigolo trade, his competitor. He grinned at Tony
and clapped him on the back.
"She's hot, man. Real hot."
"You've fucked her?"
"Yes. Two nights ago."
Tony felt a twinge of jealousy. Then it passed. These things
happened. An occupational hazard, at best.
"Good?"
"Good? Fuck, she's incredible, boss! You wouldn't want to give up
your place would you?"
Tony laughed. "You crazy?"
"For that kind of fucking, yeah."
"That good, huh?"
"Unbelievable, boss. The best yet."
"We'll see."
He turned and began rinsing glasses in the sink, humming to
himself. The other man, Lewis checked the beer kegs.
"Lew?"
"Yeah."
"What's she really like?"
Lewis grinned and looked up. "Tony, I swear it, you can't imagine.
She's everything like us dream of. Soft, warm, wet, ready for
anything. She sucks cock like a demon and her is like fire.
You fucking think you're going to burn out. And then, when she
takes it in the ass, -- if there's a heaven, it's got to have
that dame in it!"
= o =