by Rea Thomas
He stopped suddenly, reclining back just a few inches to look down at me. In the dim light of his home, Navin’s eyes were impenetrable and yet impossibly emotive. I sensed he might want to say something—something profound and filled with wisdom—but he seemed to think better of it, shaking his head before lowering it to kiss me hard and thoroughly.
I let my hand wander across the planes of his back, stroking the tight muscles that rippled beneath my fingertips. When I reached the firm curve of his backside, Navin’s teeth nibbled at my lips, eliciting a groan from my throat.
His slipped out of my touch, moving downward, peppering kisses across my skin as he did. An intake of breath caught with a hitch, my mind anticipating what this mysterious man intended to do. I felt simultaneously sexy and shy. Navin knelt between my knees, his touch easily fighting against my defiance. His eyes lowered to my pussy, a small smile of appreciation toying with his full, Cupid’s bow lips.
My eyes fell shut, snapping open in a moment when Navin’s fingers stroked my swollen clit in a slow circle. Our gazes fused, watching each other while he masturbated me. My lips parted, my breath releasing in a trembling shudder; his ability to pleasure me was extraordinary. Even his preliminary touches were exquisite, leaving my hormone-addled brain to wonder just how good the main event would be.
“Rosie.” His voice was gentle, reassuring almost, as he lowered himself between my thighs. Speaking my name, Navin reminded me of a pilgrim at a temple, kneeling in worship of a deity—and the caress of his lips against my inner thigh echoed the sentiment. He was careful and thorough, each kiss bringing him closer to my throbbing, wet pussy.
I was almost lightheaded by the time fingers parted my lips, his tongue pressing against my clit. My groan of pleasure and his murmur of approval merged, sounding loud in the small space. My hips jerked upward, my hand sinking back into his hair. Navin was a blissful assault on all my senses for I was tormented by the perfection of his touch, the perfume of flowers, coconut oil and some lingering but likely permanent scent of sandalwood. I could still taste the Indian tea on my tongue, could hear the sound of my own uninhibited pleasure and, when I lifted my head and looked down, I could see what I thought was the most beautiful man I’d ever glimpsed.
His tongue stroked the length of my pussy, dipping into the slick well, tasting my arousal and how he had affected me.
“Oh my…” I breathed, my voice high and piercing in surroundings where only exotic birds punctuated the silence. Navin peered up at me and I imagined he was pleased at my response.
My limbs felt like jelly as I lay there. He sucked the slick bud of my clit between his lips, pressing one large hand against my hip, holding me against his bed. I felt his fingers slide into me, thrusting in long, gentle strokes. His fingertips seemed to brush teasingly, elusively against a sensitive spot inside me.
“Navin…” I breathed his name, bewildered by the sparks firing inside me with each torturous stoke of his fingers and every suckle of his lips against my clit.
My pussy gave a squeeze, the familiar tightening in my belly beginning with a vague, twisting knot. Navin seemed to understand, the thrusting of his fingers gaining momentum until he was almost rough. I whimpered, trying to grind against his mouth despite the persistent weight of his hand on my hip, spreading across my belly. He sucked harder, thrust deeper, and just when I knew my orgasm would peak to that moment when it could not be halted or reversed, Navin ceased to touch me.
His fingers slid out of me and he pulled back. “Illa,” he said gruffly, admonishing me.
I felt robbed, laying naked and panting against his bed. The orgasm that had been so close diminished by the second, ebbing away to leave only a dull ache as my clit continued to pulse.
“Not yet,” said Navin, slipping off the bed and getting to his feet. His cock remained hard, the smooth bulbous tip glistening wetly. I held my breath, watching him grip the thick shaft in his hand.
Sitting up, I found my limbs were wobbly still. Shuffling to the edge of the bed, I was level with his narrow hips, the indent of his bellybutton and the crisp black curls that trailed downward to his shaven groin. Navin gazed down at me, his eyes hooded, shadowed by his thick lashes. I sensed his anticipation then, his hopefulness that I would be bold enough to take control.
I had never been confident sexually. While I had often longed to take control, something always stopped me. What if I made a fool of myself? What if my technique was lacking? I sensed no judgment from Navin as I placed my hands upon his thick thighs and shimmied a little closer. Catching the musky scent of his pre-cum, I inhaled deeply. My hand shifted, pressing hard against the back of his leg. He was immoveable, rooted to the wooden floor boards. Beneath my hands, Navin was solid muscle.
I thought of a horse with liquid muscles and unimaginable power. There was something incredibly sexy about a strong man, and Navin’s unassuming and humble persona made him even sexier.
My lips parted, sliding over the wet, mushroomed tip of his cock. For a moment I thought his unflappable calm might waver as he gave a sharp exhale. Navin’s hand cupped the back of my head, lightly prompting me as I took his length into my mouth, my tongue stroking his shaft. He jerked forward, filling my mouth, almost choking me.
My fingers flexed over his buttocks, squeezing the taut flesh. My lips caressed him, tongue sweeping across the tender ridges of his cock. I groaned, and the gentle vibration of my voice only seemed to encourage him. His fingers tightened in my hair, knotting the strands roughly. Navin thrust his hips again, backward and forward, his head falling back in pleasure. The warm wetness of my mouth cocooned him, spurring him to repeat his approval in Malayalam. I understood his words based solely on the guttural tone.
Reaching between his thighs, I pressed my palm against the weight of his sac, my fingertips touching his perineum. Navin gasped, tugging my hair. I sucked harder in defiance, pressing with more insistence upon the spot beneath his balls. His cock gave a pulse and I pulled back, releasing him with a final, devilish lick upon the shiny, wet tip. I watched as clear, slick juice leaked from the little slit, forming into a teardrop.
He swore. Navin’s fingers relaxed, untangling from my unruly hair.
“Do you carry protection?” he asked, his sudden directness surprising me. He sounded impatient, his cock wetly glistening an inch from my parted lips.
“I take the Pill,” I explained. I wasn’t in the habit of finding myself in the beds of random men. There had been no plans to sleep around on my trip to India. “I…” I cleared my throat, finding the topic to be mortifying and personal. Odd, considering his tongue had been inside my cunt only a few minutes earlier. “I’m clean. I don’t have anything.”
Navin reached for me, urging me to rise. When I got to my feet, he turned me around. I stood facing the wall, and caught sight of a beautiful bronze medallion, twice the size of my palm, depicting the Hindu symbol “Om”. Inscribed around the edges in a script I believed to be Hindi, was a mantra. I wondered what it meant to him, but had no time to contemplate as he pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel on the bed.
I found myself on my hands and knees with Navin poised behind me.
“I am too,” he said, his palms settling over the globes of my ass. I held my breath. This was not a position I had been in before. “Doggy” was a concept that played into my worst fears about myself. I was vulnerable, left with absolutely no way to cover myself. When he lifted his hand from my ass, I prepared to breathe a sigh of relief that turned to a yelp as he slapped me. The resounding noise and momentary sting startled me.
“Beautiful,” Navin said, rubbing his palm across what I was certain was a growing red mark. It surprised me just how much I enjoyed the branding. “You are so beautiful.”
I had heard these words before, yet something about how he said them made me believe it was true.
He shifted forward, grasping my hips, his cock easing into my pussy. I was more than ready for him, my body still reeling from t
he almost-orgasm earlier. He filled me, stretching my wet flesh. I realized we were both holding our breath when we exhaled at the same time, groans of two different pitches merging in a symphony of satisfaction. Navin remained still for a moment. I wondered if he was relishing the feel of me around him while I adjusted to him being inside me. Then, with unrestrained vigor, he thrust hard and deep.
“Yes,” I sighed, my fingers clutching the bedding. “Like that.” His cock bumped the same cushion of nerves his fingers had caressed. With each thrust, I felt the telltale beginnings of my climax. I wondered at the power he wielded over me, at whatever innate ability he had to arouse me.
Navin reached around, cupping my little breasts in his hands. His chest was against my back, his skin hot. When he pulled on my nipples, I jerked back against him, my backside slapping against his groin.
“Rosie…” he murmured. I could feel his breath against my neck, coming in hot bursts over my skin.
My forehead lowered to the thin mattress and my ass rose higher against him and Navin was somehow deeper then, filling me. His thrusts were rough, reflecting his loss of control. I felt his hands come down over mine, linking our fingers and forcing me to relinquish my hold upon the blankets. Odd though it was, I felt more connected with this man I had known only a few hours than I ever had with anyone before. He had somehow tapped into the deepest recesses of my insecurities and had blasted them into oblivion. I felt no embarrassment in being fucked rigid in this position. In fact, I didn’t want it to end.
I was bereft at the loss of contact when Navin straightened, reaching under me and between my thighs to rub my clit in tight, firm circles. The combination of his cock inside me and the strumming of his fingers was divine. The orgasm that had eluded me earlier was building in my belly, gaining momentum with every hard, unforgiving thrust of his hips.
Navin’s cock bumped the spongy cushion of nerves inside me at just the right angle and then, without any warning, I was coming in a blinding rush of pleasure. My cry was muffled by the blankets beneath my face, and I wasn’t sure what words I was speaking. He didn’t stop, thrusting again and again, each time hitting the secret spot. My words turned to pleading whimpers, every nerve coming alive as I came in a torrent of flooding wetness.
Navin released my clit, holding me in place, forbidding me from moving despite the fact I had no energy to stay upright. I wanted to slump to the mattress in complete exhaustion. His hands on my hips were firm, his thrusting almost painful. I was trembling, overcome with emotions I could not explain.
He gave a deep, animalistic groan, pulling out of my pussy as he came in great, hot bursts across my ass. His fingers dug into my skin.
“My God…” he said after a moment, breaking the lengthy silence that followed our lovemaking. I felt him shift, moving away from me to snatch his mundu from the floor. He wiped away his cum with the soft cotton, surprising me with an affectionate kiss to the spot between my shoulder blades. “Lie down, Rosie.” His voice was as commanding as ever, yet remarkably tender.
I obeyed, turning to lie against the single pillow on his bed. I was sated, exhausted from more than the vigorous activity. I felt as though every ounce of emotional tension I had been carrying around was gone, leaving me with a weariness I had not earlier been aware of. I looked up at Navin as he brought a light blanket from a pile I had not noticed before.
He turned to me, covering my still-naked body. He stood, studying me in silence for what might have been ten seconds or five minutes. Time was remarkably hard to grasp in the haze of emotions I was feeling. I’d had no awareness of the changing light, or how the bright early morning had shifted to dark cloudiness.
“You’re so sad…” Navin said in that uncertain way he articulated himself in English. He seemed unsure of whether or not his words were correct. Yet they were. His words were more accurate than he could ever have imagined.
At the exact moment I opened my mouth to convey this thought, a rumble of thunder that seemed to rip apart the very earth beneath us tore across the sky.
Chapter Three
There was something about a Kerala thunderstorm that couldn’t quite be explained. I had not noticed the clouds rolling in, or the skies darkening to the color of pewter. When the rains came, the drops pummeled the dried earth, and the smell that followed was delicious. I lay on Navin’s bed, listening to the angry patter of the rain against the roof of his shack. I was amazed at the hut’s construction, surprised by the lack of leaking.
Through the open doorway, I watched the water dripping in a silvery curtain off the edge of the leafy verandah. The air smelled of wet earth and the unique perfume that came with the disturbance of sticky pollen on a thousand flowers.
Navin stood against the doorframe, dressed in a fresh mundu once more. His arms were folded across his bare chest, his eyes staring to some point in the far distance. We made no attempt to talk, for the thunder was deafening, encompassing what I imagined was the whole country in frightful trembles. I recalled the first time I had experienced a tropical thunderstorm and how I had been certain the world was coming to an end around me. The darkening of the skies, the flashes of electric white lightning, the thunder, all together were truly apocalyptic.
As the rain began to lighten, Navin’s reverie was seemingly broken.
“Would you like me to go now?” I asked, sitting upright, pulling the light sheet against my bare breasts. He turned, regarding me with an easiness I was not expecting. There was a total absence of awkwardness.
“You can stay,” he said with a single-shouldered shrug. “Would you like some tea?”
I smiled at him. “Yes, please.”
With the same efficiency as before, Navin prepared the infusion while I sat on his bed, watching. After a moment, when the little kettle was beginning to boil, he turned to me again.
“I have not…” He paused, looking beyond me as he sought the words. “Done sex with a stranger before.” His eyes met mine, holding my gaze. “Only my wife. She died five years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, finding my voice was quiet. He nodded once. “I have not had sex with a stranger before, either.” I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I wanted him to know I was not promiscuous.
Navin smiled and nodded. “Athe, I know.” His lips were beautiful and I felt a tremble of pleasure in knowing they had intimately explored my body.
The kettle boiled and he poured the water, filling the room with the now familiar scent. I breathed it in, gratefully accepting the cup he offered me.
“Are you lonely, living here by yourself?” I turned my head to the doorway, gesturing to the expanse of rice fields outside. The rain was a drizzle, but continued nonetheless. “You live far away from anyone else.”
Navin contemplated this, tapping his fingers along the rim of his own teacup. “Not usually,” he said at last. I froze beneath the weight of his gaze. “Today I was.”
I understood, then, why he had invited me into the privacy of his life. He had felt, for a moment, the same desperation I had as I watched him on the beach. I thought of him stretching, twisting his body by the ocean as the sun broke over the horizon.
“What were you doing? On the beach.” He had moved with unimaginable grace, as flexible as a gymnast and as strong as a sensei.
“That is kulari,” Navin said, his eyes igniting with enthusiasm. “Kerala martial arts,” he added in explanation.
“You seem to be very good at it,” I told him, wondering if the suppleness the art afforded him had impacted how he had made love to me. I believed it did.
Sipping our tea, we lapsed into silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. As I drank the unusual concoction, I thought of how I had ended up here. It was still difficult to fathom that in just two months I had traversed the length and breadth of this vast country and had, somehow, found myself in the company of Navin. It was truly remarkable how things turned out, sometimes.
“You said you came to Kerala to find yourself.” Navin’s voice broug
ht me back from my musings. “What does this mean? I do not understand.” For all his strength, his size and his considerable abilities not only in kulari but in lovemaking, there was something so endearing about how he failed to grasp the intricacies of the English language.
“I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life,” I explained. In the far distance, another rumble of thunder rolled through the skies. “I was trapped in London. I was tired of everyone talking about my life, about Jerald.” I met Navin’s curious gaze. “I almost married Jerald. He…was not faithful to me.” The man before me nodded, assuring me he understood what I was trying to explain. “I suppose I came to India because I was running away.”
Navin sat next to me, perching at the edge of the narrow bed. I should have found his proximity suffocating but instead, I was comforted by the warmth radiating from his body.
“Is that a…” Navin sighed, clearly irritated by his inability to find the word. He tapped long, elegant fingers on the fabric of his mundu. “Solution. Is this correct?”
“Yes, it’s correct,” I told him. “No. It’s not a solution.” I shook my head, sending a cascade of wild curls tumbling over my shoulders. For a moment, Navin seemed distracted by the vivid russet strands against my pale skin. He reached out, twisting a spiral around his finger.
“When will you go back?” he asked.
I didn’t know how to answer. Taking a sip of tea, I shrugged. “I like Kerala.” I really liked him. I was under no illusion that our union was more than a fleeting moment. One I would never forget, but fleeting nonetheless. But for now, I didn’t want to think about it ending. In a short time I would get dressed and depart Navin’s ramshackle home in the middle of Kannur. For now, I was happy to forget.
“We can travel the whole world,” Navin said, “and never run away from problems.”
I smiled at his wisdom. “Have you ever left India?” I asked, noticing my cup was empty.
