While all comments are welcome as usual, I have never visited India so please don't write to correct and geographical data.
The usual copyright rules apply
It was very exiting, my company had a major development in India and they wanted me to go there to oversee an overhaul of procedures. I would spend the time stripping the company to basics then rebuilding it, a great opportunity at any time, but the chance to visit India at the same time was the icing on the cake. I had one month to prepare, buying lightweight suits, cotton shirts and underwear and getting the necessary medical attention before I flew out on what I considered the greatest opportunity and most wonderful adventure of my thirty four years.
On arrival I was met by a chauffeur, a very handsome Indian called Kristan; he was from Southern India and had skin of that beautiful burnished copper colour, large black eyes and a beautiful friendly smile.
He drove me to company headquarters where I met the managing director who showed me around and made introductions before we made arrangements for me to start work the next day. The M. D. explained that Kristan would drive me to a house that was owned by the company where I would stay during my time in India and that he would be at my disposal during my stay as driver and manservant. I had never had a manservant before, or any other kind of servant for that matter, but Christan seemed a good choice.
On the way to my house, on the outskirts of the city, we chatted as Kristan pointed out various landmarks. Firstly he told me that he was known as Chris, which I found much simpler, but I was getting a little embarrassed by him constantly calling me 'Sir'. I was called sir at work by my staff but somehow being called it by a servant smacked too much of servitude to me, and finally I said "Chris, My name is Bill Meadows, if we are to be in each other's company for the next few months I would prefer you to call me Bill, and if you can't do that, please call me Mister Meadows". "Yes, Sir", he replied. Oh well, we could work on it. When we got to the house he showed me around a beautiful building with a courtyard. It consisted of a two storey house with a large garage on one side and storage rooms, formerly stables on the other: the fourth side of the courtyard was closed off by a high wall and two gates.
My accommodation was in the upper storey and consisted of a beautiful sitting room, a dining room and three bedrooms, a large bathroom with an extra toilet/shower room ensuite to the master bedroom. Chris explained that the kitchen and his quarters were in the ground floor. I poured a drink from a well stocked cabinet and offered Chris one but he looked quite embarrassed so I quickly apologised, assuming I had offended his religious beliefs. "Oh, no, Sir, Mr Meadows, Sir, I am a Hindu and allowed to drink, but it is not proper for me to drink with you". "I see", I said, "But I wish to talk to you, to discuss your duties, and I would like to sit and have a drink while I do so and I would feel more comfortable if you would sit and have a drink with me while we talk".
He agreed to have a beer and told me a little of his history, including that he had worked in Britain for 2 years in his uncle's restaurant before returning to India to get married. I asked if his wife was with him, would she be staying downstairs, but he explained that his wife was at their home in the country looking after the small piece of land he had bought, and he was working in the city where he had family earning extra money and sending most of it home. I asked him how much he earned for doing this and when he proudly told me I was astonished and ashamed. It was less than a pittance. I was living in his country, my salary was going into my bank account at home and I was living rent free with an eating allowance, a laundry allowance, a travel allowance, an entertainment allowance, each of which was larger than his total salary, plus I was promised a hefty bonus when the job was completed. Sitting back and allowing him to take care of me was going to be even harder to do without a guilty conscience. His duties were agreed, as well as keeping the house and the garden in order he would provide tea in the morning then drive me to the office, collect me in the evening then chauffeur me to any restaurant or function I would be attending in the evening.
Due to jet-lag I was feeling tired so I went to bed early and, thanks to first class air conditioning, slept like a baby. I awoke early with the usual raging hard-on, something I was going to have to live with for the next few months. I wasn't too sure of where a gay man would satisfy his needs in this country, only that it is still illegal, and I couldn't risk any hint of scandal. I wandered to the window and was pleasantly shocked to see Chris standing in the courtyard in a pair of cotton shorts washing himself from a basin. God, he was magnificent. His wet skin gleamed in the morning sun showing a body covered in silky black hair. Automatically I grabbed my erection and squeezed, it was enough to make me shoot a load across the floor. Quickly I grabbed some tissues and wiped the tiles and went to the shower room for my wash, but as I lathered myself I thought of Chris standing below washing himself and I got so hard I had to take the time to finish myself off a second time. By the time Chris brought my morning tea I was dressed and ready.
Work went as expected that first day, exhausting and hot. So much so that when Chris picked me up after 7 o'clock I was worn out. The managing director had invited me to his home for dinner that evening but I had managed to refuse without offending, accepting instead an invitation for the next week. On the way home I had Chris keep the windows closed and the air conditioning on at maximum. I had already decided not to go for dinner, feeling it was too hot to eat, but when I got inside the courtyard I smelled the most delicious Indian food and my mouth watered.
As I climbed to the veranda to enter my apartment Chris asked me what time I wanted to go out, but I told him I would be in all evening. I showered and changed into loose cotton trousers and a tee shirt and settled to watch TV; full satellite facilities were provided so I had plenty to choose from. About 15 minutes later Chris knocked on my living room door and came in with a small bowl of meat and rice. "I had some left after I made my dinner and I wondered if you would care to eat" he said. It was delicious and afterwards I asked Chris about his cooking skills. Apparently he had learned from his Uncle when he worked in the restaurant. I had a quick idea; I offered him extra money if he would prepare an evening meal for me most nights to prevent me having to sit in a restaurant on my own. I offered him what was, in fact my eating allowance but it more than doubled his salary. He got quite emotional and put his arms around me and hugged me in gratitude and I felt the heat of his body through our thin clothing. I quickly pulled back and he was quite embarrassed, apologising profusely. I assured him that it was OK and invited him to have a beer with me.
The next morning I looked out of my window and there he was again, standing on the flagstones washing his semi naked body. I held my dick as he lathered himself all over, putting his soapy hands inside his shorts and rubbing his genitals with one hand while sliding the other up and down the crack of his arse. Without any great effort I fired off a load into my hand just watching him. Fuck, he was so sexy.
That evening I was picked up as usual and taken home and by the time I had showered my meal was set on the dining room table. I opened a bottle of wine and when Chris came to collect the dishes I invited him to sit with me and watch TV. As we looked for something worth watching I flicked through various channels, including the many satellite channels available to me. A sudden thought came to me and I switched on a European sex channel showing straight soft porn. I left it for a minute or so and made a joke about it but Chris was riveted. He was wearing a long white cotton robe and I could see it tent as he watched. While the film did nothing for me, the sight of his hard-on was definitely getting me exited. Eventually Chris noticed me watching and reddened in embarrassment, but I just smiled over at him as I groped myself. "If you are too shy to watch with me I will leave you to watch alone", I offered.
"No, no, Mr Meadows, it is all right, I just got carried away", he said. "In that case, if you feel you need to give yourself relief, go ahead, I won't mind". He looked at the screen then back at me, continuing to fondle himself through the fine cotton material. I had to encourage him so I opened my zip and pulled my dick out and started to stroke, looking at the screen but watching his movements out of the corner of my eye.
Finally he hitched up his robe and I saw his naked thighs for the first time. They were muscular, taut and covered in that beautiful black hair. Rising from them was a 5" dick, uncut and extremely thick. His dick and balls were even darker than the rest of his body and looked delicious. He concentrated on watching the film as he slowly pulled on his meat until I saw his back arch and I gripped my own to slow myself down. I watched as he spurted glob after glob of thick white cum onto his chest, you know, the sort that looks like whipped cream and lies where it lands, never runny or milky. I let go and blew my own load in rhythm with him.
His shy grin was almost childlike as he said "I haven't seen my wife for several weeks". I just grinned.
Any fears that I had that things might be awkward were quickly dispelled next morning. After my now habitual morning jerk off watching him wash himself, he served me tea then drove me to the office and was as chatty as usual, even commenting that he had slept better last night. I wondered why he washed in the courtyard every morning, even considering the possibility that he knew I was watching and it was all a show for my benefit. I soon learned different.
That night Chris ran me home and served dinner. I was considering whether to try the same thing again tonight or give it a few days, better to play it by ear, I decided. When I finished eating I wandered onto the veranda and saw that Chris was busy tidying the flower beds. Rather than disturb him I collected up the dirty dishes and took them downstairs, but when I got there he had disappeared inside. I put the dishes in the kitchen then went round the back to knock on his door and tell him what I had done. He opened the door and invited me in and I couldn't believe what I saw. He was living in a room 8 feet square with whitewashed walls, an old single bed, a stand of drawers and a wardrobe: no TV, no radio and no air conditioning. When he wasn't looking after me he was expected to just sit there. He had a few books, but that was all. I told him about the dishes and walked away feeling numb, and not a little like a total shit, it hadn't occurred to me to enquire what his conditions were like. Half way up the stairs I stopped and turned back. I knocked on his door again and said "Chris, I would like you to come with me". He followed me upstairs and I took him straight to the small bedroom. "I want you to collect you things from downstairs and move them in here. As long as I am here this will be your bedroom". He looked almost frightened. "Mr Meadows, sir, if they find out that I am using a bedroom in the apartment I will be sacked". I explained carefully that no one in the company, even the managing director had any control over my decisions, because I was senior to them all, but I told him if anyone said anything to tell them that I insisted that he be nearer in case I needed him. He hugged me again and again I felt the heat of his muscular body through his robe. Only later did I realise that by giving him a room with use of a bathroom I had denied myself the pleasure of his morning washes.
Two days later (and still trying to work out some way to see Chris' dick again) I was aware of a muscular pain in the base of my spine, an old injury from a skiing accident that hadn't bothered me for ages. I called my doctor in Britain and he made some enquiries, called a specialist in Bangalore and arranged an appointment for me. Based on his diagnosis and the information given to him by my own doctor, the specialist gave me pain killers and a cream to rub on the sore area. When Chris ran me home again I was taking my time climbing the stairs and he asked if there was anything he could do to help. I said no, thanks, but after I showered and tried to rub my back I realised it was more difficult than I had imagined so I called Chris in and asked if he would massage my lower back with the cream and he agreed. Being honest I was in too much pain to have any ulterior motive, I just wanted help.
We went into the second bedroom which had twin single beds and I lay down. Chris removed my towel then arranged it over my buttocks. He spread a little cream on my spine then worked it into my skin like a professional, although he assured me he had never done this before. When I looked back to say something complimentary I noticed he was smiling. "What's funny?" I asked. "Nothing Mr Meadows, Really", he said rather shamefaced. "It's OK, you can tell me, why were you smiling to yourself?" You have no body hair Mr Meadows; it is unusual here to see this. You have skin like a lady".
By now my back was feeling well enough for me to consider what he had said. "Well", I said "this skin like a lady is getting very dry and sore with your Indian weather. Would you mind getting that other bottle of lotion called moisturiser from my bathroom and rubbing the rest of my body with it?" "Certainly, sir", he replied.
He returned from the bathroom and dribbled the lotion down my back and slowly massaged it into my skin, sliding his beautiful meaty hands up over my shoulders then down the spine before separating and running them up my sides. He continued for some time doing this, even moving the towel down about 1 inch in the process, then he moved to the bottom of the bed and massaged my feet before working his way up both legs until he again reached the towel. "Ok Sir?" he asked. "Yes, great, but you missed the bit in the middle", I replied. When I looked in the mirror between the beds I could see his beautiful dark face attain a reddish tinge, but he removed the towel and began to massage my buttocks. I, of course, couldn't move, lying there with a bursting hard-on wondering how I was going to explain the large damp path when I finally got up. It was taking me all my time not to raise my arse in rhythm to his strokes. Having gone this far, I decided on one more step towards the cliff edge.
"Tell me, Chris, have you ever touched another man, one with skin like a lady?" "Oh no, sir" he said blushing even more. "It is OK if you had", I said, "I have". "Really sir?" he asked. "Yes, many times" I said. Chris continued to massage my cheeks then after a minute or so said, "Actually, when I was working in England, we worked very long hours. We slept three to a room and one of the men in my room allowed us to relieve ourselves". "I see", I said "And how did you relieve yourself? Did you let him play with you or did he let you fuck him"? He stammered for a second then said, "Sometimes he would let us do that and other times we put our penis in his mouth". While he was saying this he was putting new feeling into rubbing my arse, bunching, grasping, kneading my flesh: I was bucking against him, grinding my dick into the mattress and pushing against his hands. Finally I asked "Would you like to relieve yourself now?" "Yes, please, Mr Meadows", he said, sliding his fingers up and down the crack of my arse. I opened my legs and raised my buttocks enough to push a pillow under myself and said "Go ahead". He quickly undressed and climbed onto the bed between my legs and lay on top of me. I could feel the smooth down of chest hair rubbing on my lubricated body and his hard nipples pressing into my back. At first he seemed happy to nuzzle against me feeling his cock sliding up and down my crevice, but soon he took his cock in his hand and pushed against my hole. I raised myself slightly to give him a better angle and he was in. As I said, his cock was only about 5" long but it was thick with a real mushroom head, so it was a tight fit, but it felt so good. He took no time for niceties but started forcing himself into me immediately, the way I like it. As he got nearer and nearer he was pulling himself right out and ramming it back in. Fuck, I can feel it now; I thought he would burst something, but I just moaned and took it all. Harder and harder he went until he got near to climax. He slid his hands around my body and grabbed at my tits. I am by no means fat, but my tits are a bit fleshy and he started kneading them, which was enough for me, I gripped his cock with my arse and fired off a load, making him do the same. I could actually feel his spunk hitting my insides. He rolled off me and lay on his back beside me and I ran my fingers over his chest. We lay together for about 10 minutes getting our breath then he got off the bed and said "That was very good, Mr Meadows, Thankyou", and left the room.
I lay on the bed and snoozed for a while and when I awoke Chris was in the courtyard cleaning the flagstones and singing; I sat back with a large brandy and enjoyed my after-glow. I didn't see him again that night but once again next morning he carried on as if nothing had happened, which suited me, the last thing I wanted was an embarrassed silence.
That night I was out with colleagues for dinner, so I hardly saw Chris after he brought me home, I was collected and delivered back to my door, then on the following few nights I brought work home so again I hardly saw him. On the Saturday I was sorting through some paperwork and preparing my diary for the next week when Chris brought my lunch in. "How are you today Mr Meadows?" he asked "Feeling well?" "Yes, Chris, I'm feeling well, and you?" "Oh yes, Mr Meadows, I am very well I have had a long letter from my wife today. I love to hear from her, even though I miss her very much. Would you need your back rubbed today Mr Meadows?" I looked up but he was busy setting out the dishes and arranging my cutlery, it could have sounded like idle curiosity.
"Yes, perhaps after lunch, if you would be so kind", I replied. "Certainly, Mr Meadows, that would be no problem". He said.
I ate my lunch with gusto, looking forward to 'dessert' and eventually Chris came back and cleared away. "I'll just go shower", I said casually, "then you can rub my back for me",
I went through to my bedroom and showered quickly but carefully, thoroughly cleaning my nooks and crevices then I went into the second bedroom and called to Chris that I was ready. I lay on the bed and arranged the towel over my thighs and waited. Almost immediately Chris appeared wearing a cotton robe, he had showered too. In an almost business-like manner he poured the lotion onto my back and began his massage. He rubbed my shoulders and upper arms then proceeded down my back, this time putting his hands around me far enough to brush against my nipples. When he completed work on my back he again moved to my feet then worked his way to my thighs. "Would you like me to do the bit in the middle, Mr Meadows?" he asked. "Yes, please Chris", I sighed. He removed the towel and began kneading my flesh. "Tell me, Chris, was your roommate the only male you played with?" I asked. "Well, sir, there was a young British man who made deliveries for the restaurant, and I saw him looking at me a few times so I asked him if he would like to go for a drink one night when I had free time. He agreed and took me back to his small apartment and he let me put my penis in his bum, he had a nice bum".
All the time he was telling me this I could feel his hands getting more personal with my rear-end, caressing rather than rubbing and letting his fingers trail down my cleft. I moaned slightly and wriggled against him so he got a bit bolder in his ministrations. By looking into the mirror I could see that his robe was raised to show his proud nakedness. "Why don't you remove that, I'm sure you would be more comfortable", I suggested. He stopped and pulled it over his head and I saw him in his masculine glory. I had to get a clearer look at him, and get my hands on that body, so I turned on my back, raising my legs and placing my feet on his shoulders. Chris took more lotion, smeared my arsehole then lubricated his cock. He gripped my thighs and pulled me to him and grabbed his unhooded meat and pressed it against me. Obviously no one had explained to him the niceties of taking things easy, and I certainly wasn't going to slow him down as he pushed that thick plug into my arse.
Once it was in that is what it felt like' a butt-plug, short and thick with the mushroom head gripping my insides. He paused and said, "Mr Meadows, that Englishman I told you about, he liked me to play with his penis while I did this, would you like me to do that"? "Oh yes, PLEASE", I said. He took some lotion and rubbed it on his hands then he wrapped his beautiful hand around my cock. At the same time he started to thrust forward and back in my arse. I removed my feet and put my legs over his shoulders, allowing him to lean forward; I ran my fingers over his hairy chest, up over his shoulders and neck, cupping his face in my hands then ran my fingers through his hair. Meanwhile he was pile-driving into me, once again withdrawing completely and jamming himself back before my ring could close, and at the same time squeezing my dick with one hand while feeling and pinching my nipples. I could stand the pain but I couldn't stand the pleasure and pretty soon I felt myself quivering in preparation to climax. I arched my back and thrust myself onto him as I fired a load into the air. At the same time Chris swelled inside me and I felt his thick cream fill me.
I collapsed back and Chris fell on top of me. I felt so fulfilled I took his face in my hands once again and kissed him on the lips. I wasn't sure how he would respond, but although he didn't open his mouth he didn't pull away. We lay together until we were relaxed and rested then Chris stood up and said "Thank you, Mr Meadows, that was very good, and may I say, sir, you have a very nice bum". He gently touched my thigh then left the room.
Over the next few weeks we developed a nice routine where, unless I was working or had to go out, we would have a "back-rubbing" session which always ended in me being royally fucked. After each session we would kiss, and eventually Chris parted his lips and fed his thick coarse tongue into my mouth. The next night, instead of lying back and raising my legs, I pulled Chris down on top of me then swung him onto his back. I think he was a little concerned at first, but I quickly straddled him and took his rigid plug into my mouth, no easy task, I can tell you. Fortunately, it was too short for that massive head to force itself into my throat but I sucked on him for ages before feeling my throat fill with his thick, gooey cum.
I began to feel guilty that I might be stopping him think about his wife, so one day I suggested that he bring his wife to the city for the weekend. She could see their relatives and they could spend time together. Chris was very excited at the prospect but afterwards I started to feel that I didn't want to be there, not out of any jealousy, but out of guilt, having to face his wife without blushing at the thought of what her husband and I had been doing. I decided to arrange a weekend trip and told Chris that they should use my bedroom for the visit.
I left on Friday morning on a sightseeing weekend and left Chris to prepare for his visitor and returned on Monday evening and was picked up at the station by Chris. On the way home he thanked me again for giving him the weekend off and allowing him to see his wife. He hinted strongly that they had done a lot more than just visit relatives, and that they had more than made up for lost time in the bedroom. I thought to myself that this would no doubt mean that it would be several weeks before Chris felt the need for relief, but when we reached home he carried my luggage upstairs, announced that dinner would be ready shortly, then suggested that after all my travels I might feel like a back-rub. I don't know what he got up to while I was away, but he still managed to fuck me like he hadn't had any for a year.
One small thing was missing from this bliss, I am basically a bottom, but every now and then I feel like "turning the tables". I was sure I wouldn't get away with it with Chris, and to be honest I didn't want to, but one night I asked him where a person would go in the city to find a male companion. Chris looked very hurt and started apologising if I was bored with him, so I quickly reassured him and explained my predicament.
He told me of men meeting in parks but he thought it too dangerous for me: he asked me to leave it with him. Two days later Chris went off shopping and when he returned he took me to the window. In the courtyard were three youths "very good, very clean" according to Chris, but they were little older than boys, not my type at all. Chris was disappointed when I told him, he felt he had let me down, but I explained carefully that although I would be "taking the part of the man" as he put it, I liked the other person to be manly too. The next night he had two beautiful young men waiting for me. Each was very dark skinned and had a small moustache, and they each wore a very white shirt open just enough to show a hairy chest. I really was struggling to make a choice; they were both delicious, and finally settled on the slightly taller one.
I took him to my bedroom and closed the door and watched him undress. His body was beautiful, thin but muscular, young and firm but manly not boyish. He came to me and undressed me like a courtesan, making me feel that even this act was of sexual importance to him. I caressed his body while licking his ear and face and he lay back with passive lust offering his body to me. I raised his legs and looked at his sweet arse and sinking my face into his buttocks, licking and sucking on his proud little sphincter before moving to his tight hairy balls then his beautiful cock. It was over six inches long but much thinner than Chris's so I was pleased to let it slide down my throat.
As I arose from him he took my face in his hands and kissed me then manoeuvred me onto my back and started sucking on my dick with expertise that belied his age. At this point I heard a scream coming from Chris's room and guessed that he was entertaining the other man, but I was too engrossed in what was happening to my dick to care. The young man worked me to full pitch before stopping and straddling me, skewering himself on my cock with such speed that I came shortly afterwards. This did not stop my bed mate, he kept working his arse muscles to keep me semi-hard then just kept rising and dropping until I was again fully rigid and able to take over, thrusting myself into him while playing with his dick and caressing his body. I realised that he was holding himself back for me so I redoubled my efforts and shot another big load into him while he sprayed me with his own juices.
As we lay together in an afterglow of satisfaction I heard Chris in the bathroom so I slipped off the bed and went to speak with him. "What was the scream", I asked. "Well, I had paid for both", he replied, "so I was getting my money's worth; he was tighter than I thought"
"Was he good?" I asked. "Oh yes", Chris said, then hurriedly added "but not as good as you Mr Meadows". I laughed and said that if it was that good maybe we should swap, then suddenly added "Or we could just all get together in my big bed".
Chris's eyes opened wide, then he left the kitchen and returned with "his" young guy over his shoulder and followed me into my bedroom, throwing him down on the mattress then grabbing the other one, upturning him and ramming his rampant dick into the young man before he could prepare himself, causing him to scream also, and not at all surprisingly.
Meantime I treated his friend much more gently as I took him. As the night continued, I was fucked by one of the men while fucking his friend, and then by Chris, who frankly just kept fucking any hole in front of him. It was a night of mass orgy and lust, never to be forgotten.
The last few months of my time in India were spent in the same way. I worked hard, then came home to a hot meal unless duty took me elsewhere.
Most nights we had glorious sex with each other, by now Chris was even sucking on my cock, although he never sucked me to a climax. Occasionally we would hire a couple of young men to spice up the night, but usually we were just on our own, having good sex and sleeping together. It was never love, on either side, Chris was always happy to return to his wife for a few nights and I knew that this had to end. At Christmas Chris and his wife gave me a beautiful stone carving of the god Visnu, made by his father-in-law, and when I left I bought them a piece of land next to the piece they had already bought.
Eventually my work was finished and I had to return to Britain, with several souvenirs and some of the happiest memories of my life. I sometimes think about going back for a holiday, planning how I could spend some time with Chris, but I know it will never happen. He writes occasionally, mostly to tell me about his three beautiful children, or to tell me how well his farm is doing now that it is making enough money for him to work it full time. I reply about how work is going, or about my new house. I never mention any sexual activities, and we never mention what happened between us, which is as it should be. We were put together by chance and we made the most of it, now it is over.