Falling for Amisha

My life took a peculiar twist eight months ago. It started one early morning, on the first icy day of November. I was standing with cold man Crandall in the lobby of our apartment building. I was preparing to step out into the cold when the double glass entrance doors parted and a young woman swept in from the busy street, like a tropical typhoon from the Indian continent. I knew I was staring, but I couldn't help it, I had never seen a woman quite like her. She was beautiful to be sure but her look and her walk were so foreign, so exotic. This tall, dark woman strode elegantly past us, her dark eyes flashing, her full lips framing a mischievous smile. A wondrous mane of raven black hair flowed freely down over an equally black full-length fur coat. She turned and the quick movement separated the front of the coat for just an instant, revealing dark, supple legs as far as the eye could see. She extended a long, carefully manicured hand to the call button and an elevator arrived almost immediately. She turned back, arching her jet-black eyebrows to acknowledge us before the doors closed. The elevator carried her away and I watched until it stopped on the fifteenth floor, two levels below my bachelor apartment.

Old man Crandall appeared to be having a stroke after witnessing her entrance.

"What the fuck was that?" he said, which shocked me because I had never heard Mr. Crandall even come close to swearing, not even after his elderly wife ran off with most of his money and a young Cuban dance instructor.

"I dunno Arne" I said "but I sure would like a piece of her!" and he nodded sadly.

Over the next few months I caught brief glimpses of her in the building. Each time I paused to summon enough courage to introduce myself, she disappeared. But one early morning on my way out, the elevator stopped on the fifteenth floor and my prayers were answered. The elevator doors parted and she glided in wearing a classic grey, V-neck cardigan clinging tenaciously to her busty torso. She turned to face the doors and my eyes drank in the black stirrup pants topped by the red, slingback, high pumps which accentuated her slender legs and tight ass. Clearing my throat, I addressed her as bravely as I could.

"Hi, my name is Les." She answered back with an amused smile so I shouldered on, "how are you enjoying our building?"

"Yes it is fine," She said with the slightest East Indian accent. 'You can call me Amisha" she said with a smile.

"My name is Les." I blurted out.

"I believe we already established that" She said with a quick smirk, as my cheeks reddened.

"Do you workout?" she asked boldly.

I nodded, grinning like an idiot, thinking maybe I was more buff than I given myself credit for.

"I need to find a good local gym" she said running her hands over her hips. "Do you think I have to get back in shape?"

I shook my head in disbelief and fumbled in my wallet for my "Diamond Gym" membership card. I handed it to her and she responded with bright, white smile. The elevator doors opened on the ground floor.

"Thank you" she said pivoting on one heel and stepping out, with my card. At the time I felt really proud of myself for being so bold. In the following months I learned more about Amisha from the manager and other tenants. I hadn't appreciated before how our apartment building is like a small town. The rumours and innuendoes fly through it with incredible speed. Amisha was married and her husband, whom I had never seen, was somehow connected to an Indian crime organization. They said she was an film actress forced to leave India when she found herself the center of a raucous scandal. One rainy Wednesday evening I was running late, as usual, and raced out of the building on my way to the gym. As I stood in the downpour trying to hail a cab I spotted her in the doorway, looking out forlornly. She was horribly underdressed for the weather in just a short ruffled skirt and white tailored dress shirt. Even without makeup or jewellery, she was a knockout. A cab stopped and I held the door open for her, trying to be as gallant as possible as I offered her the ride. She ran out giggling, obviously pleased with the attention. She slid onto the seat, revealing more leg than a Ziegfeld Follies girl. Instead of covering herself up and pulling the door closed, she reached out for my hand.

"Hi" she shouted out against the noise of the traffic, "I'm going to the gym too, would you like to share the cab?"

I nodded, my heart pounding in my throat. She giggled and slid over to make room. I tried not staring down at those magnificent legs.

After a few months, we had formed a routine where we would go over to the gym together and afterwards I would escort her back to our building. I had finished earlier than usual this one night and waited patiently for her. I watched her from across the gym as she pushed herself hard on the running machine. She was wearing tight white shorts and matching tank top. Her long black hair was tied in a pony tail and reached down to her perfect little ass. Sweat glistened on her brow and cheeks. She slowed finally and allowed the machine to push her off the end and she retreated into the change room.

I sat thinking about the shocking rumour I had just heard about Amisha from the apartment manager. According to the manager, I was probably the only single guy in the building who hadn't banged her. But the story didn't align with what I knew about Amisha. So to be honest, I had chosen not to believe them.

She came back out a few minutes later, to soon to have showered.

"Ready to go?" she asked before looping her arm through the crook of my elbow.

"Hell ya" I responded and opened the door for her. She had changed into a baggy track suit but I felt the warmth of her body as she pressed close to me. We stepped outside into a muggy June night. I think Amisha always felt safe walking home with me. She nuzzled in a little closer than usual, letting her breast rub up against my arm, giving me a mischievous smile.

We were walking along as we had so many times before when unexpectedly she dropped a bombshell on me.

"So how come you don't ever try to seduce me?" she asked playfully.

Stupidly I responded by tripping over my own feet, pitching over in the darkness and taking her down with me. She landed on top, unhurt and giggling wildly. I gazed into her sultry eyes, still speechless.

"Come on" she said, suddenly jumping up and pulling me down a nearby alley.

I went where she wanted; without argument. She towed me into a dark, recessed doorway. Across the alley was the back of a restaurant. A row of garbage cans stood close by and the area was lit by one bare bulb over the restaurants back door. We moved deeper into the shadows. Amisha backed up into the doorway and held me close to kiss her. I did, greedily, but she pulled my head down between her breasts. I pushed the sweatshirt over her braless chest and over her head, tossing it into the darkness. I nuzzled her puffy nipples, savouring the spicy taste of her skin enhanced by the salty sweat of her workout. Still lower she pushed and I knew what she wanted. I knelt down in front of her, pulling her track pants down over her long smooth legs to her ankles. Above me was the smooth dark body of a Goddess. I pressed my mouth onto her hairless sex. The smell was like heaven and I breathed in her intoxicating scent. She lifted her foot and I prepared to help her step out of the pants. But she stopped me.

"I can't be completely naked" she protested playfully, placing her foot on a low ledge stretching the track pants.

She spread her legs as far apart as the material would allow and I buried my face in her crotch. I lapped and sucked, reaching up and massaging her firm ass and smooth hard thighs with both hands.

A door opened noisily behind us just as my lips had trapped her clit. The grating sound of a metal trash can being dragged on pavement echoed through the alley. Her clit suddenly engorged in my mouth and I was amazed at how much the thrill of getting caught turned her on. But she started to push me away, gently at first but suddenly with more urgency. I panicked, thinking we were going to get caught and quick to try and save the ladies honour I tried to pull her pants back up. When I realized I wasn't getting any cooperation from Amisha I turned around to assess the problem. It was a big, dark, Mediterranean kid who had been dragging the garbage can from the kitchen. He was watching us.

We must have been quite a sight; me on my knees, paying homage to my Goddess. Amisha, topless, full breasts standing stiffly, her body glistening with sweat in the streetlight. Amisha was focussed only on the kid. She practically drooled over his broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest, obviously pleased with the view.

I took hold of the waistband of Amisha's pants and began pulling them back down over her hips, down her thighs, past her calves to her ankles where I let them lay. The kid set the garbage can down and pulled his shirt off over his head, the sweat on his hairy chest glistening in the streetlight. He smiled broadly and started walking towards us wiping his hands on his filthy apron.

"Oh my!" Amisha exclaimed "would you mind?" She asked me with those big brown eyes and all I could do was nod. She sounded apologetic but I had the feeling she had almost forgotten me. I stood up, and backed out of the way.

The kid walked up beside Amisha smelling like he bathed in Old Spice. His rough hands fondled Amisha's tits and ass. She winced as his rough hands pressed down on her sensitive skin but she made no effort to stop him. The whole time he was handling her she was like jelly, all she could do was stand helplessly as he did whatever he wanted to her body. He held her close, and began speaking Greek, at least I couldn't understand a word of it. Fingers spread wide she pressed her hands on his chest and she gazed at him as though he was the first real man she had ever met. He took her gently by the hand and led her towards the brightly-lit doorway of the kitchen. She started walking away, her track pants dragging on the ground between her feet. She looked like a perverse bride, walking down the aisle with one arm linked in his, the other trying to cover up her breasts. I stayed back, thinking she wanted some privacy.

As soon as they were inside the kitchen a chorus of hoots and wolf whistles went up. After a few minutes, curiosity overtook me. I headed for the kitchen door.

The inside of the kitchen was bright and loud, cooks and servers scurried hurriedly around. The Greek was standing in a side doorway with his back to me. On the other side was a small room. I went over and peered around him; a plywood table covered with overflowing ashtrays was pushed up against the wall and a rough wooden bench sat in front of it. This was probably where the kitchen staff took their breaks. Amisha was on her hands and knees balanced on the bench skewered between two large look-alike Italians. I knew who they were from their newspaper ads - the Santini Brothers, the owners of the restaurant. She was naked except for her runners and the stretchy pants down around her ankles which were keeping her feet together. Amisha was totally exposed in the bright lights of the room, her dark skin glistening with sweat. One of the brothers, Luigi I think, had his pants down around his knees and was behind her, driving as hard as he could. His hands were firmly gripping the top of her hips to balance himself and push into her deeper. The brother in front of her was Dominic and he had the front of his suit pants open and was feeding her his massive Italian sausage with both hands. Dominic started growling. Amisha's cheek was bulging against the head of his dick. Amisha's solid globes swayed back and forth with rhythm of their pounding. Dominic's thighs tensed suddenly as he began pumping madly. A torrent of white chunks soon appeared from the corners of Amisha's mouth and ran in globs down her chin. Amisha squinted back at Luigi and at the Greek kid still blocking the doorway. Luigi grunted real loud, grabbed onto Amisha's hips and drove into her maniacally. He was still pumping when his man-mayonnaise started running onto the bench. He groaned a huge sigh of relief. Dominic pulled out and did up his pants and Luigi hesitantly did the same. As they stepped out of the room they patted the Greek kid on the shoulder and thanked him profusely. He didn't understood Italian any better than they did Greek but whatever they said made the kid beam proudly.

The kid turned his head towards the kitchen and called out loudly. Nothing happened. He waited a moment and called out again. This time two old guys came hustling up, they passed me and rushed into the room. The first guy in the room was as round as he was tall and the second guy was skinny enough to use as a pipe cleaner. The fat one dropped his pants, sat down on the bench, picked Amisha up and placed her onto his lap. These two were all business, I figured they were only allowed a five minute break and they weren't going to waste any time. The bright light glinted off the juices on the fat ones dick as he started plunging into Amisha's sopping pussy. The skinny one-stepped up behind Amisha and hurriedly undid and dropped his pants. The skinny one unceremoniously jammed his dick into Amisha's pussy on top of the fat ones. Amisha had her arms around the shoulders of the fat one and had her head resting on his shoulder. Now this was a manwich. As the two men drove into Amisha as deeply as they could she moaned softly and bit her lip. I couldn't imagine either of these guys had been laid for years and I was positive their dicks had never gotten close to anyone as gorgeous as Amisha. Sweat dripped from the coarse grey hair covering their upper bodies. They both started coming at once. The skinny one reached around, pulling hard on Amisha's nipples. A torrent of cum ran down onto the fat ones balls but he didn't even notice. When they were finished they pulled up their pants, went over and talked to the Greek kid for a moment. Amisha sat up on the bench with her legs still apart. Her bruised pussy oozed like a cream filled dessert with a bite out of it. She was starting to tire.

The kid moved over to her and pulled a rag from his apron and proceeded to gently clean her thighs, pussy and chin. When he had her cleaned up as best he could he helped her stand; she reached down and carefully pulled up her pants. She put both arms around his neck and passionately began kissing his body; she had already forgiven him for allowing his bosses and buddies to have their way with her. He reached down, picked her up in his arms and easily carried her back outside.

Once outside Amisha cuddled up to her big Greek, she just couldn't keep her hands off his wide forested chest. He spoke softly into her ear and she just smiled up at him with starry eyes. He set her down on her feet, squatted down and pulled her pants back down around her ankles. He repeated what he had said but more forcefully this time and motioned her towards the row of filled garbage cans. She glanced over, gave me a little girl smile and shrugged. She shuffled towards the cans, her ankles still wrapped in her soaked pants. When she reached the cans the kid came up behind her and pulled her into his arms. Amisha was going to melt. Her hands reached back to caress the guys cheek. She turned her head and started kissing him hard on the lips. The kid kissed her back forcefully, with one hand massaging her breasts and the other in her crotch, pulling and twisting. Finally, he nudged her shoulders gently forward and made her reach out to grab hold of the nearest can. Her eyes widened at the sound of his zipper opening and she smiled in anticipation. He entered her and her eyelids fluttered and she turned her face away and started grunting. I couldn't stop from staring at her breasts moving back and forth in tempo with the big kid as he fucked her hard from behind. She reached back to grasp his flexing thigh. Her hand lingered for a moment before she moved it up until her palm pressed flat on his chest, running her fingers through the coarse, curly hairs. He reached forward with both hands and grabbed hold of her breasts, gripping them firmly in his big paws and used them repeatedly to pull himself into her deeper. The kid did well; he kept it up for about ten minutes before he let out a series of loud grunts and dumped his wad deeply inside her. When he pulled out Amisha turned and sat down on the pavement with her back against the can, her knees spread wide apart, her pants still wrapped around her ankles. More creamy liquid came oozing from her battered pussy. The Greek stood over Amisha holding his shrinking cock. He squatted down to Amisha, pressed his dick into her face and said something unintelligible to her. It must have been in the international language of slut as Amisha softly took his tool into her mouth and cleaned him. He did up his pants and went back to his garbage can dragging it beside the one Amisha was resting against. When he went back inside, Amisha and I were alone once more.

Turning around to begin the hunt for her garments Amisha said something I wasn't ready for.

"Oh look, Les... a little cowboy." she said softly.

Approaching Amisha was what could have been a dwarf but was actually some shrunken old man in a cowboy outfit complete with alligator skin riding boots and silver spurs. The old guy stopped in front of her, squatted down and began licking the man-cum from Amisha's reddened breasts with his big, chalky tongue. She was too tired to raise her hands as he started suckling hard, moving back and forth from one breast to the other like he was a puppy. Amazingly, Amisha's breasts started swelling from the old man's attentions.

"Uh, Amisha" I said cautiously "I don't think this is a good idea, just move away from the little guy and come over here."

Amisha looked at me like I was an idiot. I suddenly realized if a Boy Scout troop were to come around the corner we would be in the alley all night. I moved towards her, and the old guy let out a vicious stream of obscenities. The smell of cheap red wine poured out of him and I stepped back. The guy went back to licking Amisha's body, much to her enjoyment.

"Nice cowboy," she said as she pushed his Stetson back on his almost hairless head. A moment later the old guy was on all fours in front of her, putting his cold, runny nose on her pussy, sending a shock coursing through Amisha's body by giving her a big raspy lick all the way from her asshole to her now throbbing clit. She held onto his ears.

"Now, now..." she chided, but his search was over and he continued with a long tongue, lapping at the juices exiting Amisha's body.

"Oh my goodness," she said suddenly as she slid her ass down across the rough pavement to give him better access to her swollen twat.

As fascinating as all of this was, I decided it was time to leave. When I turned my back on them to find the tracksuit top, Amisha, glistening with sweat, was on her back holding the old guys head between her hands as he lapped away. I rummaged around in the dark until I found her top. Amisha let out a load grunt and I turned back I was faced with an astonishing sight.

Amisha was on all fours. on the bare pavement, her ass pointing up in the air, and the old guy was on her back, pants around his ankles. Even from this distance I could tell from the angle his dick was going in he was fucking her ass. Her face, throat and even the top of her shoulders were glowing with a bright shade of red. A big welt was glowing on her left ass cheek and the side of her face was scraping on the blacktop. Both of her arms stretched out behind her, her hands covering the old guy's spurs, trying to prevent them from scratching her.