Friends Indeed Ch. 04

Masooma was Sanjay sahib's guide and so far proving herself a nice company. Somehow, this young Pakistani girl along with his daughter, Rekha, convinced him that he needed to get out of the house for some fresh air and sightseeing. His wife stayed home, saying that she was too "old" for the aimless, endless walks. Surprisingly, Rekha encouraged her mama to stay at home. So here he was, accompanied by his daughter's "best friend," heading to her apartment in a taxi.

It was her idea. "Let's first go to my place and then will go out to see Singapore," she said.

He did not ask her the rationale of why go home first instead of some tourist attraction. She was too charming and he did not want to disagree with her.

"It is strange how we Pakistanis and Indians get along so well when we meet in a third country," she quipped, while handing him over a glass of whisky as she made him comfortable in her nice, airy apartment. He took a small sip. It was Black Dog. He liked its taste and aroma.

"I agree," he said. "We are the same people."

She laughed. "My husband will not agree with this. He says we are different, but still we can be friends and good neighbours. Waseem says that the division of India was good. It increased opportunities for Muslims."

Sanjay sahib was too experienced to engage in a passionate discussion about the traumatic events, which led to the division of British India in to two in 1947. What's done was done. He can't altar it. So, why he should waste time arguing this with this pretty and silly girl, the banker thought.

"Politics bores me, uncle," Masooma said as she settled herself on the sofa next to him. She was holding a glass of red wine.

"I hate discussing politics and history," he lied eyeing Masooma, who in line with the South Asian tradition was bent upon making himself her relative by calling him "uncle." He did not like being called uncle -- especially by pretty ones like Masooma who were not related to him. But he could not help. Both in India and Pakistan there remain this silly tradition of calling even strangers aunties and uncles in the very first meeting.

"You are sweet. You are the first South Asian man I met who does not like discussing politics," Masooma said smiling.

Sanjay sahib found her smile too inviting and suggestive. He thought his mind was playing tricks. Why a young girl like her would flirt an uncle. Nevertheless, he had liked Masooma in the very first meeting. Masooma, which literally means an innocent one in Urdu, appeared in no way innocent. She was the opposite of what he ever thought of most Pakistani women -- conservative, religious and boring. But Masooma was bold, dashing and beautiful. She wore the western attire and gulped glass after glass of wine -- in the presence of her husband. So unlike what he thought about Pakistan and Pakistani woman.

Masooma's low-cut black top was showing a lot of her smooth, milky skin and a glimpse of the cleavage. She wore a pair of tight black jeans, which exposed rather than concealed the shape of her round, firm buttocks and thighs. Masooma appeared barely 25-year-old -- almost the same age as that of his daughter Rekha. If he had met Masooma in some different circumstances, he would have tried to take his chance with her -- nail her down. But he could not attempt this now as she was her daughter's best friend.

Sanjay sahib had celebrated his 50th birthday only a month ago. He was fit as a fiddle and despite being a family man, loving husband and a caring father -- he did not mind having fun, particularly when traveling alone.

"I have heard liquor is banned in your Islamic republic," he asked.

"Yes it is -- at least on the paper. But those who want, they get it. People party, have fun ..."

"You also used to drink in Lahore," Sanjay sahib shot another question.

"Yes, but not in front of my parents ... only among friends."

"What about your parents? Do they also drink?"

"My father drinks a lot, but mum is only a social drinker."

Sanjay sahib was really curious about this attractive woman who was sitting right beside him with her small white feet now resting on the center table. They appeared so soft and smooth. Red nail polish enhanced their fairness.

Sanjay curbed his urge to touch them.

"And your husband does not mind this," he asked shifting his gaze from her feet to her cleavage, her breasts.

"No. he loves me more when I am drunk," she said finishing her glass.

Interesting!!! A bold statement, He thought.

"Hey uncle you are slow. Your glass is still full."

"I have my pace... I drink slowly."

"No not at least the first shot. Come on... I need to fill my glass again."

He smiled and took a mouthful this time, but the glass wasn't finished yet.

"You seem unable to digest that a Pakistani woman, sitting alone in her house with you, and drinking freely."

"Yes, you are right."

"Aah we are not angles though maluvis (cleric) want us to be like them. Even many of these maulvis, themselves are demons."

"I read how they sexually abuse youngsters."

"Not all, but some. What they do is ugly. They are so frustrated. But one should not mind if it is between consenting adults. Life is short. One should have fun. I know couples in Lahore and Karachi who even swap partners."

"Vow. We also have the same problem," he said handing her the empty glass. Their fingers touched. He wanted to grab her hand, but resisted himself.

"You see it as problem. But if partners do not object, why it should bother us?"

"You don't mind swinging."

You ask too many questions, Masooma said laughing. "Why you are interested in me so much -- want to check whether your daughter has a nice friend?

"No, I don't doubt my daughter. I have faith in her. Rekha's brought up has been good."

"Your faith will be rewarded," Masooma said refilling their glasses.

"You were telling me about Pakistan," he said.

"No, only about its party scene."

"Then, tell me."

"What you want to know?"

"Everything, anything you want to tell."

She stretched herself and said; "Uncle dear, ask the right questions to get right answers."

Their eyes met and they stared at each other silently. The silence was a long one or so it seemed. Sanjay sahib realized that the girl was a tease. He wanted to pounce on her, but could not dare. He never had tasted a Muslim girl even in India, let alone one from Pakistan. The girl appeared hot. How will she taste? he imagined.

Masooma seemed to dare him to make a first move. He sat silently, taking sip after sip from his glass. He was feeling nervous as he was around a woman for the first time in his life. He did not know how to carry on with the conversation.

"What are you thinking? Are you missing aunty?" the girl said in a naughty tone.

Sanjay sahib did not reply. He just kept staring at Masooma like a mesmerized man.

"Are you okay uncle? Why your face is so flushed?"

"Yes, I am fine," he seemed to whisper.

Masooma touched his forehead with a look of concern on her face. He held her pretty hand and placed it in his lap, gently stroking it. "I am fine. I was just thinking."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"How can you think nothing," she said in an innocent voice.

He lifted her hand and placed on his lips.

"Oh uncle," she said trying to withdraw her hand from his gentle grip.

You are sweet, he said.

"Leave my hand please."

"You are a beauty," he said as he kept stroking her hand.

Masooma seemed comfortable and relaxed. She did not try pulling her hand back from Sanjab sahib's grip.

"Are you trying to flirt with me uncle?" she boldly asked.

He smiled.

"I will tell aunty and Rekha," she said in a teasing tone.

Sanjay sahib felt a bit uneasy. He froze for a moment.

"You want another peg?"

"No I am fine," Sanjay said as he tried to pull Masooma toward her for a hug.

"What are you doing uncle," said Masoonma resisting his move.

He did not reply, but instead tried to lean his body against her.

"Uncle please! I am like your daughter," Masooma said trying to wriggle her waist out of Sanjay sahib's grip.

"What do you want?"

"You," said Sanjay as he tried to kiss her lips, but only ended up with a lick of her cheek.

The animal in him seemed to have awakened suddenly. He was no longer the calm, politically correct banker -- a family man. Lust seems to dominate his actions.

"Oh it will be so wrong. You are my best friend's father. What she will say, what would aunty and my husband say?"

"Stop playing innocent," he said.

"No I am telling you about the consequences."

"Who will know?" he said feeling her back, her soft breasts with both her hands.

"Such things can't remain hidden. Will you be okay if Waseem do the same with aunty or Rekha?"

He wanted to say that his wife and daughter were not sluts like her, but checked himself.

"My darling no one will know. Let me kiss you once -- just once. You are one sexy angle."

But if they do?

"Shut-up," he said sliding his hand under Masooma top. He could feel the nakedness of her body.

Masooma was stiff.

"Relax darling," Sanjay sahib said as he kissed her neck.

Masooma's body remained rigid. "Before you proceed any further, I will like to let you know that I will ask my husband to do what you are doing to me with the women in your house."

"Is it a threat bitch?" Sanjay sahib said as he managed to pull her against his body and in doing so he collapsed on the sofa with Masooma lying on top.

"No it is not a threat. Just a promise. You should know the rules of engagement," she replied. "I know you will enjoy seeing your wife and daughter being fucked by someone else."

They were both fully clothed, but Sanjay sahib was frantically feeling her body... rubbing her back, feeling the tightness of her buttocks through the jeans.

"You bitch," he said, pulling her hair firmly. "You talk too much," he bit her hard on the shoulder. She moaned with pain, but managed to slip out of his hands. Like a flash, she was standing a couple of yards away from the sofa on which he Sanjay sahib was lolling.

"Okay old tiger you will have your way, but promise you won't bite or get rough," she said in a serious, sensuous tone.

Sanjay sahib was taken aback with her composure.

"Yes I won't," he said. He suddenly felt that his mouth was dry. He got up and emptied his glass with a big gulp.

"Remove your clothes dear uncle," Masooma said taking charge of the situation.

Suddenly, Sanjay sahib started to feel nervous. His hands fumbled through the buttons of his shirt, which he removed with an undignified hurry.

Masooma laughed. "You are cute," she said lifting her top slowly, revealing first her belly button, flat tummy, her rib cage.... With a sudden jerk she threw her top on the floor. She wore a black brassiere, which seemed to enhance her milky white skin. The size of her breasts was 36. They were a perfect pair of peaches. She unhooked the bra from the back and slowly removed it -- revealing both her mounds of glory one by one.

"Do you like them uncle dear.... Same size as that of Rekha," she said. "Do you want to suck them, play with them, bite them..."

He was breathless.

"You can do the honour of removing my jeans by your own hands," she said smiling seductively.

He got up and drifted toward Masooma. She took him in her open arms. Their lips touched, he felt them with the tip of his tongue... she opened her sweet mouth ... their tongues met and feverishly started exploring each other. For Sanjay sahib, it was one honey soaked kiss, which he did not want to end. Masooma felt the passion of the old-man who sucked her tongue like a lollypop as he held her waist tightly against his body.

"You know how to kiss," the girl said. Her lips and chin was covered with his saliva. She stared lovingly in to his eye.

"Now suck my breasts," she whispered.

Sanjay sahib was on his knees. He held her waist a little more tightly as he brushed his lips with one of her erect tits. She sighed. He started stroking it with the quick motions tip of his tongue. She started breathing heavily as she held his head tightly.

"Oh yes... Sanjay"

Sanjay moved to her other tit... giving it the same treatment. His experience with women was evident as he played with tits of the young lass, who now moaned softly. Now Sanjay had his mouth full of her young soft breasts... he was sucking them, biting them, one by one and even trying to take both tits in his mouth at the same time by squeezing them together.

Remove my trousers please, she said.

He opened the button of Masooma's trousers with unsteady hands as his tongue explored her belly button. She pressed her head harder. He pulled down the trousers, feeling the silky smoothness of her thighs, her calves. He wanted to lick her -- from toe to head. He removed her white panties which were wet. Masooma slumped on a single seat sofa as Sanjay still on his knees licked and kissed her thighs. Masooma was squirming with pleasure.

"Uncle... Sanjay.... My lover, you are good."

Sanjay started giving long licks on her thighs which gradually started moving upwards. He could smell the juices of her love nest, which was smooth and hairless. His tongue darted at the mound of her cunt -- she moaned harder.

Sanjay was an expert in licking cunts -- which he thought was the ultimate tribute to a lovely woman. So far he had licked and tasted half-a dozen cunts -- starting from his wife Parvati to that of his secretary, wife of a friend, his maid, one of his distant cousins whom she met during his visit to Lucknow and one of the friends of his wife. But this young, Pakistani cunt, appeared the sweetest.

His tongue explored and tasted her hidden lips, the depths of her love box as she now shrieked with pleasure. He was still on his knees licking her inviting cunt like a dog as Masooma threw her legs wide open as she held the man by his hair.

"Yes uncle ... I love it. I love it," she kept repeating this in a husky voice.

"Yes, you are a darling, lick harder... make my juices flow. I am yours. I am yours."

Sanjay held her wide open thighs firms and licked feverishly. He wanted to pleasure this woman. He loved licking her. He loved hearing her moans, he loved when she said he was his man... he wanted to become her slave.

This tongue fuck was a pleasant surprise for Masooma. She was not expecting this serious-looking, elderly family man would prove such a passionate licker.

"Oh yes ... YES, YES... harder, kiss harder, lick harder UNCLE DEAR... "

Masooma felt orgasm building inside her. She was now moaning loudly, in fact screaming with pleasure...

Sanjay mouth and tongue was tiring a little... but he held on to his job... he was now holding her firm hips... one of his fingers was half inserted in her asshole... he liked the smell of this woman, who was humping her cunt at his face with full force. His mouth, nose, cheeks were splattered by her juices. He was swallowing it. He loved licking her... he knew that the climax was not far.... She moaned, she cried, she jiggled her legs in the air... yes she was on the brink! The old man has given her the first orgasm of the day.... Her juices exploded, she closed her thighs tightly -- suffocating Sanjay's face... but he kept licking... Ahhhh .... She shrieked with pleasure, grunting her teeth --- he sucked her harder swallowing her fluids.

"Oh my! Uncle jaani (dear) ... you are a hero," Masooma said controlling her breath. "I will reward you for this service," she said rolling her tongue into his mouth which was covered with her own fluids... she tasted them as she sucked his tongue, kissed his chin, lips.

"We are now lovers," she said beaming at him.

He silently gazed her lovely face... his hands fumbled with his belt.

"Relax ... my love. Let me do it for you... it is my turn to please you now," Masooma said going down on her knees as Sanjay stood erect -- just like his dick which was compressed in his underwear and pants.

She opened the buckle of his belt as she kept planting kisses on his erection still hidden in the layers of clothes. She opened the button, zip of his fly -- rolling down his trousers and underwear together. His hard seven inch uncircumcised dick stared at her face.

"The one eyed monster," she said squeezing its gently and giving a soft lick at the dangling flesh on its tip.

"Different from a Muslim cock," he asked.

"Cocks and cunts are the same and so are their functions," she said as she loving rubbed his cock on her cheek as one of her hand played with his balls.

Sanjay thought he was in bliss with a houri.

She touched his cock with her lips and he was in heaven.

Their trance was broken with the sudden click of the opening of the entrance door.

Sanjay froze.

Who could be at this hour? Masooma murmured.

There was sound of heavy foot-steps .... One, two, three, four..... A tall black man was staring at the naked man, woman at the drawing room door. One of Masooma's hand still cupped Sanjay's balls, while the other held his cock -- which was now semi-erect with this sudden shock.

To be continued...