Indian Fever

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A young man's first time.
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This is a true story shared with me by the young Indian man who had the pleasure of experiencing the joys of an older woman as his first lover.

During my spring break from college, my family had planned a trip to a neighboring county to spend time with our extended family, celebrating the marriage of one of my cousins. However, on the day we were to leave for the start of our journey, I became quite ill with a viral infection. The family doctor was consulted and it was decided that it would better for all concerned if I was to stay at home to recover. There was no point in my making such a trip as I would be very uncomfortable and of course had no desire to inflect my illness upon the rest of my family.

The family home was very quiet after the departure of my brother and parents. The servants going about their chores with calm efficiency and I dozed off rather peacefully in my cool room. I awoke to find myself damp, the bed clothes twisted around my body as if I had engaged in a fierce battle, my heart was racing and my chest heaving with my rapid breathing. One of the maids must have been outside my room and heard a strange noise because she knocked timidly on my door, asking if I was all right.

Apparently her concern over the youngest son of the family overcame her training because she entered my room without my permission, standing in the doorway with the light shining behind her. It created a halo around her dark hair, giving her the appearance of an angel sent to heal me.

"Is everything all right, young one?" she asked, her shaky voice betraying her concern.

My only answer was a groan. I tried to speak but my mouth was so dry as if I had eaten pounds of the sand outside my window.

Slowly, she entered my darkened room. It appeared as if she gracefully floated across the floor, her feet not making any sound as she moved closer to my bed. Her hand felt so very cool and soft as she stroked my sweaty brow, sweeping my hair back. I licked my lips in an effort to speak to her and she must have noticed my difficulty because she whispered, "Let me get you a drink." Her strong but soft hand slipped under my head to cup the back of my neck as she lifted me slightly from the pillows so that I might sip at the cup of water in her other hand. Nothing has ever tasted as sweet or wonderful as those precious drops of water that cooled my parched throat.

"Thank you," I managed to whisper as she laid me back against my pillows once more. My body was trembling from even the slight effort it had taken to help hold myself up long enough to sip at the water.

"Poor baby," she murmured as I lay on the sweat-dampened sheets. "Let me change your bedding, it might help you to rest better."

I was in no condition to argue with her. Silently she padded over to the chest to gather new bedding then she slipped over to my wardrobe where she pulled new pajamas out for me as well. I lay helplessly as she pulled the sheets out from under me, helping me to roll from side to side as she quickly stripped the bed. After she had pulled all of the sheets and blankets from my bed, she placed a towel under my body and helped me to ease my back onto it. Leaving me alone for a few seconds, the maid slipped into my adjoining bathroom where she filled a large bowl with warm water. She tossed in a washcloth on her way back into my bedroom.

Placing the bowl of water on the stand next to my bed, I watched as her long slender fingers quickly plucked at the buttons of my pajama top. I could scarcely feel the tugging of her hands at the cloth before it fell open and it was not long before my shirt was totally unbuttoned, revealing my upper body to her gaze. I could not help myself but arched up to meet her touch as she began washing my throat and shoulders with the washcloth. At times, her fingertips would slip off the washcloth and lightly caress my skin.

I watched her face as she washed me, this young woman who had been with my family for years and was more like a family member than a maid. I had come to look upon her as an older sister or even a young aunt perhaps but the feelings she was causing me as she tenderly washed the sweat from my body were more like that for a lover. Her eyes seemed to grow even darker as she swirled the washcloth over my chest until my nipples grew hard, standing up like small marbles. I bit my bottom lip in an effort not to moan as her fingers slid over them.

Her face had become flushed to the point I was afraid she was suffering from the same fever that gripped me and she was repeatedly licking her lips as if they were dry or chapped. She picked up the washcloth and dipped it back into the bowl, rinsing it. Then she grasped my arm and placed it on her shoulder. Leaning towards me she slowly ran the cool cloth over my arm down to my elbow then back up to gently cleanse me. As she leaned forward I could catch a glimpse of her round breasts straining against the fabric of her dress. Her skin so pale for our country, a golden tan much like that of honey. I was disappointed when she sat back to wash my arm from elbow to hand.

As she leaned over me to wash my other arm, her breasts would press firmly against my chest. The delicious weight of them crushed against me and the warm slightly spicy fragrance of her skin making my breath rasp in my throat once more but for a totally difference reason. She turned her head slightly to stare into my eyes as she dragged the washcloth from under my arm, the back of her hand grazing my nipple. She watched the expressions of delight and desire mixed with confusion flit across my face when she lightly pinched my nipple between her fingers.

Giving me a mischievous smile, she sat up and turning slightly began to untie my pajama bottoms. Embarrassment flooded my mind as I realized what she was about to do. No woman had seen my naked body since I was old enough to care for myself; no one had ever gazed at me in the aroused state in which I found myself now. My hands reached down to attempt to pull her hands away but in my weakened state, I was no match for her strength.

Trying to make myself sound stern, like the Master of his home, I commanded, "That is enough, maid. You may go now!"

Flashing me her grin again, she replied, "Your parents demanded that I care for you in their absence. They would never understand my leaving you in sweat soaked bed clothing for modesty's sake. You forget, young one, I was here when you were only a babe, running through these rooms with little or nothing on."

Was it in fact my illness that drained my strength or a desire to show her that some things have indeed changed since I was a babe? Regardless, my hands ceased their struggle with her and I allowed her to strip the last of my clothing from me. I lay flat on my back watching her as she peeled the pants down my hips to my thighs, being forced to pull the front of my pants out to release my cock from the confines of the clothing. Her face was in profile to me so I was not able to see her reaction but heard the low moan that escaped her throat at seeing my hardness.

Quickly she stood and pulled the pants down my legs and cast them to the floor. She was unable to tear her eyes away from me as she bent to rinse the washcloth once more. Gently she placed the cool cloth on my waist and began washing the hair on my stomach, her hand slowly moving closer and closer to my manhood. Burning desire rushed through my veins as the back of her hand touched the spongy head of my cock. I was unable to hold in the groan that was ripped from me as she grabbed me with her hand still encased in the washcloth. The edges of the washcloth tickled the hair around my cock as she began to slowly stroke me up and down.

"So much hair is ugly, young one. We will need to do something about that. But, oh, your Lund! (Hindu for penis)" Her voice was a low murmur as if she was afraid of being overheard, almost as if she was talking with herself.

I lay trembling under her touch, answering her with only low moans as her hand continued to glide up and down my ridge shaft. The roughness of the washcloth, the strength of her hand gripping around me was causing a heat to flood through my body hotter than my fever ever was. The sensations as the washcloth slipped, allowing the bare skin of her soft hand to caress me was heavenly. I arched my hips up to push myself deeper into her hand, which broke the spell she was under.

She appeared embarrassed as she realized what she was doing to a member of the family she was hired to serve. Quickly, she pulled her hand away from me and picked up the washcloth once more. Her hair swung forward to cover her flushed face as she bent to rinse the washcloth again.

"This water has, um, grown too cool. I will replace it," she stammered as she rose from my side.

I tried to protest as she left the room but she refused to look back at me. I watched helplessly as she fled my bedroom into the bathroom. No longer able to feast my eyes upon her, my mind turned inward and I was soon reliving the joy of having a woman touch me. I was almost unaware that my own hand had crept down my body, stroking myself in an effort to recapture the feeling of her soft warm hand on me.

I was startled back to the present when I heard "Ammaa (Hindu for mother)" whispered from the bathroom. The maid was standing in the doorway, clutching her fresh bowl of water, staring at my hand, which slipped up and down. Pearls of precum were leaking from the head slipping down my cock, which helped to grease my hand and allow me to stroke even faster.

She walked quickly across the floor, the water in the bowl sloshing from side to side rapidly and splashing against the front of her uniform. The material molded itself to her firm breasts and I could clearly see her hard nipples through the wet fabric. She knelt by the side of my bed as if to pray, placing the bowl on the floor by my bed and removed my hand from my throbbing dick. With trembling fingers she gently caressed the head, smearing the precum back onto me as I moaned thrusting my hips up to meet her touch.

Turning my hand, I was able to cup one of her breasts, feeling the delicious weight warming my palm, as her nipple seemed to burn against me. I needed to feel the heat of her breast with my hands and struggled to open her uniform. Her eyes stared into mine as my fingers slipped into the material and molded around her heavy breast. She closed her eyes and arched her back, pressing herself tighter against my hand as a low moan escaped from her parted lips. My fingertips gently plucked at her nipple, feeling it grow harder and tighter.

With my other hand, I pulled her uniform apart so I could gaze at her tits. Her breasts were a creamy tan but her nipples were almost black, like bite size pieces of licorice. With a small groan, I pull her down to me so I can fasten my lips around one as I tugged on the other with my fingertips. Her back arched, forcing her breasts tighter against me and her fist gripped my cock harder. I was in heaven as I lashed her nipple with my tongue and rolled the other between my fingers.

She shivered as I released her nipple from my hot mouth, kissing it as it slowly slide from between my lips. She tugged on my hair, urging me on, as I licked and sucked my way across the valley between her tits. I was desperate to taste her everywhere. The soft but heavy pillows of her breasts pressing against my face as I licked my way up to her collarbone then down the curve to seek out her other nipple. I was rewarded with an animal like growl when I closed my teeth around that hard nub before sucking it into my mouth.

Her hand began more rocking me than stroking, bending my erection down until it was close to touching the mattress underneath me before allowing it to pull up against my stomach once more. She twisted her head around to watch as my cock bounced up to slap my thighs, my stomach when she released me. The slight burn from the head of my cock smacking against my body was quickly replaced with the pleasure of her hand curling around me once again. Her tit slid from my mouth as she turned to watch her hand playing with my cock, continuing the painful teasing.

Moving down further, this beautiful maid flicks her tongue out over the head of my cock. My body jumped at that short contact. One hand rubbed her back and the other one twisted in my pillow as my back arched up trying to get inside her warm mouth. Slowly her lips wrapped around my lund and she lowered her head, sucking me deep inside her mouth. As her nose buried itself in my pubic hair she quickly pulled away.

"Yuck! We must get rid of that ugly hair, young one. Hair is so nasty and distracting. You will love the way this feels." Slipping from the bed, my maid walked into the bathroom and quickly returned carrying a razor and a can of shaving cream.

I could feel my erection deflating as she approached the bed. She looked like a beautiful witch, standing there with an instrument that could cause me to lose my manhood with her dress undone so that her breasts were still exposed. The idea of the razor touching me made me shudder. I was terrified that she would cut me! Her rich, warm laughter washed over me as she watched my body's reaction to seeing her with the razor.

"I promise it will be OK," she teased me. "You will like the way it feels and your lady friends will enjoy not having to deal with the hair."

She sat next to my knee and sprayed some of the shaving cream into her hand. I watched as she rubbed her hands together, spreading the foam around before lowering her hands to my cock. With her thumbs wrapped around the base of my cock, she massaged the foam into my pubic hair. Her hands slipped under my cock to make sure the shaving cream covered all my hair before moving down to cup my balls.

Leaning over, the maid rinsed her hands in the bowl of water she had brought earlier before placing the bowl between my knees. Then she picked up the razor but my hand shot down to grab her wrist, stopping her before she could touch me with the it.

"Are you sure it won't hurt," I asked, the fear clear in my voice.

"It will not hurt at all, young one," she promised me.

"The girls enjoy a man without hair," I continued with my questions.

"Do you remember how you felt when I sucked you into my mouth," she questioned me. I nodded and felt my cock stirring at that memory. "Now imagine how disappointed you would be if a girl had to stop doing that to remove a hair from her mouth. The hair around your lund will fall out just as the hair from your head does."

Finally I released her wrist and felt the razor settle in my pubic hair. For a time the only sounds were the rasping of the razor as she busily removed all my hair and the splashing sounds when she rinsed the razor's blades in the bowl of water.

The way she would handle my cock to move it around as she sought to remove every single strand of hair soon had me hard again. Her warm hand circled around my throbbing cock to hold it straight up so she could complete the shaving job and her hot breath fanned across me when she leaned down to make sure the hair was gone. As she released my cock, her fingertips spread out once more and massaged my pubic area to check that the area was totally smooth. Satisfied that I was smooth she turned her attention to my balls, running the razor over them until they were bald as well. She rinsed the last visible traces of the foam off me before taking the bowl of water and the shaving equipment back into the bathroom.

When she returned she washed me once more with the clean water, complimenting on how much better it looked. I was once again moaning as she stroked me with the washcloth. Leaning over to drop the washcloth in the bowl of water on the floor, she brought one leg up on the bed so that it straddled my chest. Raising her dress until it was around her hips and I was rewarded with the view of her 'choot' (Hindu for 'pussy') and I was amazed to see it was totally bald as well. The light tan of her thighs darkening as it melted into the skin around her pussy until it was as black as the coffee I drink in the mornings; the warm, inviting pink of her tunnel that seemed to be beckoning me closer. My hand trembled as I moved to touch the secret folds now open to me for the first time in my life.

At first I only traced the outer lips of her pussy with my fingers slippery from her own juices. Her moans encouraged me on as I explored. Running my fingers from the top of her pussy down to linger at the opening of that beautiful pink tunnel. Her skin was glistening as I smeared her own juices over her. Unable to take my inadvertent teasing any longer, she grabbed my wrist and brought my fingers to the top of her pussy to rub a hard little button hiding there.

"Right there," she moaned as her back arched up. "It feels so good when you rub my clit."

Filing the name away in my mind, I used my other hand to pull back the skin so I could better see what I was doing. Using two fingers I ran down the sides of her clit, gently pinching it between them. Her hips squirmed when I did that and her moans became louder. Twisting her body she moved to take my cock back into her warm, wet mouth and began sucking on me again. I would have loved to taste her, to use my tongue to please her but she was so far away from my mouth and resisted my efforts to bring her closer. So I settled for pleasing her with my hands. I began to flick my fingers over the hard button she called her clit, at times barely touching it and at others pressing hard. Her moans as I touched her causing her mouth to vibrate around me which in turn made me moan as well.

Still stroking me with her hand, she removed her mouth from my cock and begged for me to touch her inside. I slid my fingers down to the opening of her pussy and slowly slipped my finger in to the first knuckle. Her hips arched off the bed to try to push me in deeper but I backed my finger out.

She squirmed around until she was lying on her side, with both legs on the bed. Bending her knee, I was once again able to see her pussy and my fingers went to it as if pulled by a magnet. In this position she was better able to suck me, which she proved by pulling me deep into her mouth. I moaned when I felt the head of my lund against the back of her throat and to reward her, finally pushed my finger into her pussy. Her reaction was as if I had prodded her with an electrical current, her back arched pulling my cock from her mouth and pushing her pussy against my hand as she moaned loudly.

"Oh, that feels so good," she told me as her hips rocked against my hand. "More, please," she begged before turning her attention once more to my cock. Her lips wrapped around the head and she teased the slit with her tongue. Her fist stroked me and tightened when I slide another finger inside her. I tried to match the pace of my fingers sliding in and out of her to her hand stroking me. I brought the thumb of my other hand down to rub her clit as my fingers fucked her. Her pussy was sucking at my fingers as if to pull them deeper inside her. I could feel her growing even tighter and wetter when I began moving my fingers faster and harder.

Her body tightened then began to quiver as her lips popped off my cock. Her thighs closed around my hand and she called out for me to fuck her. Her pussy started throbbing around my fingers, closing tightly then opening as a new wave of her juices flooded out and I knew she was cumming. With her thighs tight on my hand I couldn't pull my fingers out so rubbed them back and forth inside her, this caused her to call out wordlessly. Her hips were rocking hard and fast against my hand.

Seeing, feeling and hearing her pleasure is what set off my own orgasm. My cock began twitching in her fist and my own hot cum shot out to splash against my stomach, chest and her legs as we came together.

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