Savita

A while back, in a clothes shop, I ran into a girl I knew from way back. Savita is a beautiful Indian girl – still very slim and slightly taller than me. She is completely and utterly gay but her family and the world she lives in are totally unaccepting of her sexuality and so she has lived a double life, frequenting gay clubs and living at home as a loyal conservative virgin daughter focussed on caring and obeying her parents. When I knew her before she told me at that time that she thought that her mum had guessed her sexuality but they could not talk about it. The extent of her mother’s acknowledgement had been that she has stopped trying to match her off with boys.

When you get past her reserve, Savita has the dirtiest mind you could imagine – that’s why I like her so much. I remember many years ago, sitting in a couch with her at a party, involved in heavy petting with her as she whispered in my ear about what the other girls at the party would be doing with each other – in very graphic terms. When she found out that I was a hooker, she was shocked but then she told me she had a fantasy about being a lesbian hooker fucking lots of women. She also knew more dirty jokes than any other woman I have ever met.

I had met her at a party I went to with Sue before John and I were married – I think it was the same one that I met Sandra. Savita had taken my phone number and called me up to catch up. When we met, she was so very polite and quiet that I wondered why she had wanted to meet me. Not being the most tactful of people I actually asked her did she really want to meet me – or was it a mistake – she seemed so uncomfortable.

Savita said it was no mistake – she thought I was so cute when she met me and she hadn’t changed her mind. She said she was shy to say what she thought – she apologised if she seemed cool but she wasn’t used to inviting a girl out.

I laughed and told her that she didn’t need to be shy of me – maybe she should be disgusted by me instead – and I told her quite bluntly that I worked as a hooker. I still remember how her eyes opened wide and she said “Wow! What a sexy girl you are! But I guess you are more into men – or is it only work?” I explained that I was bi and very into women.

She said the idea of touching a man was a real turn-off to her but she was most often attracted to straight girls. Once she heard that I was a hooker, she opened up to me. Happily she didn’t seem either censorious or repelled – she said she was excited by having such a sexy friend and she told me about her lesbian whore fantasy.
Then she moved her head close to mine and whispered “tell me, Grace, have you ever tasted Indian pussy ?” I admitted that I had not and she said “It can be very sweet you know – you should try some!” “Any suggestions of where I can get some?” “There’s some very wet pussy right next to you and ready for a cute Chinese girl to taste it.”

“And am I cute enough?”

“Absolutely.”

We caught a cab back to my flat and had the hottest sex - we were all over each other as soon as we walked in the door, and were immediately busy kissing, cuddling and exploring each other’s bodies– I looked back at my diary and I commented that I was amazed just how wet she was even before I started licking her. Very sexy obscenities rolled out of her mouth non-stop as I played with her. She fingered my pussy so expertly – she was one of the best I have ever had at using her fingers.

Savita is slim but she has beautiful boobs – much bigger than mine and the loveliest nipples that were so hard when I sucked on them. I loved touching and caressing her breasts and she was so gentle but skilful when she played with my breasts that she could almost bring me to a climax just through breast play.

That first time we spent about five hours exploring each others bodies, kissing cuddling and bringing each other to climax.

What I remember most of all was at one point when we were both sated, she and I sat facing each other – me in the sofa and her in my armchair, both completely naked. She sat legs spread wide open so that I could see her pussy still glistening with her love juices and my saliva. It was late afternoon - almost evening- and reasonably warm. I had not turned on the lights so it was getting a bit dim. She was talking to me about how seldom she got to be with a girl and talked about sex and love. She was so beautiful and desirable and so seductively posed as she spoke so sexily about pussy licking that even after all the fucking, I was still getting hot.

Finally I couldn’t help myself I got off the couch and knelt before her and put my head between her legs and let my tongue explore her pussy once again, licking and slurping her wet pussy. It wasn’t long until she was at my pussy again, her fingers probing me until she was finger-fucking me even as I still licked her clit. It was a slow-developing but truly sexual fuck that finished with us both cumming as we finger-fucked each other and after that we lay in each others arms kissing and holding each other for a long time.

After that time I saw Savita quite regularly and always our lovemaking was torrid. She introduced me to another gay Indian girl called Meera with whom we had a threesome as well as my meeting her a few times on her own. Meera was almost as hot a fuck as Savita although always a bit restrained with Savita. I asked why Savita and Meera were not closer but apparently they were from different parts of India and there were family obstacles against their friendship. Also it seems they were not very attracted to each other, although both of them are sexy and beautiful.

After John and I were living together and I was pregnant, Savita and I drifted apart. But seeing her again, we immediately clicked again - it was as if the separation of five years since we last met did not exist. She came home with me and we made passionate love.

She is still living with her parents but said it is getting more and more oppressive. Her mother is obstinately refusing to discuss her daughter’s sexuality and treats her as if she is unlucky not to find the right man. Strangely, her father has come to terms with having a gay daughter and privately told her that he wasn’t delighted to have “lez daughter” but after talking with his friends, he figured there wasn’t anything to do about it unless he disowned her – and he wasn’t going to do that.

Savita asked me to come to her place – she said she wanted to introduce me to her mother as her lover – forcing her mother to face the fact that her daughter was a lesbian. The thought of this was pretty scary to me and I tried to back out reminding her I was not really her girlfriend, just a casual fuck. Savita then got very upset and said “Is that all I am to you? A casual fuck? I thought you liked me! Sorry, you’re so special to me and I’m just another piece of pussy to you. Fuck you – I need friends and lovers not casual fucks.”

She was very upset and I genuinely like her even if she is not my closest lover. I said to her honestly what I thought emphasising she was not a casual fuck but I had an important man in my life already and another woman who was the third part of my life. I said I thought I had told her this and she conceded I had but said that I was the closest person in her life and she was hoping I would help her at this stage on her life to break past this point with her mother – she couldn’t do it alone and also she had a fantasy of fucking a girl in her own room and I was her fantasy girl.

There was a pleading look as she asked me “Do you like me at all? Please do this for me?” I am too weak and finally I gave in.

Her home is a small suburban 3 or 4 bedroom house. Her brother has moved out and she lives there with her mother and father. Savita had told her parents she was bringing a friend for dinner. When we walked in, she took me in her arms and held me close, introducing me to her mother as my girlfriend and lover, Grace. Her mother pretended that I was just a friend and said “always nice to meet a friend of Savita’s.”

Savita said “Mum, she’s not just a friend, get it – Grace is my lover. She’s my lesbian girlfriend– I fuck with her. You can’t avoid it – I am gay, mum -I like Grace not just as friend but I love to hold her, kiss her and explore her body and she explores mine”

There was complete silence and I could think of a 100 places I would rather be – in fact I couldn’t think of anywhere I wanted to be less at that moment. Her father was watching – very nervously – from the corner of the room.

Savita’s mother broke the silence by clearing away the two places that she had laid for me and Savita, saying “well I won’t need these and putting two plates back into the cupboard and saying very loudly to Savita’s father “Well, husband, it is time for you and I to eat.”

Savita seemed glued to the spot but I took her hand and moved her towards to the door. At this point, she sprang back to life and said “Now, Grace, I want to show you my room. I have a fantasy to fill. I need to fuck you.” I hadn’t thought anything could make me more uncomfortable but this statement did – the idea of fucking in the house of a very angry mother was a little beyond my own comfort zone but Savita was also clearly deeply angry and I followed the line of least resistance – all the years of repression were exploding out in an act of total defiance.

I let myself be lead and as we moved into her bedroom, Savita grabbed me and pulled my clothes off, stripping her self down too– before pushing me on to the bed, she started on my pussy like a woman possessed. It was sheer lust coupled with anger and I was both excited and a bit frightened.

She said to me, “Lick me, bitch – and make it noisy so that my mum can hear our fucking. Lick my pussy hard and shove your whore fingers into me – use me like I’m going to use your whore body.”

But we got no further. Savita’s mother broke into the room and pulled us apart – turning to me, she slapped me across the face quite hard and said “Get out of my house, slut – maybe you are used to corrupting women but not in my house.”

Then, she slapped Savita on the face and started saying a torrent of words but they were all in her language and I couldn’t understand. Savita didn’t take long to respond and the volume was getting louder as the two shouted at each other.

At this point, cowardice won out and I put back on my clothes and slipped out of the room and was about to sneak out the door when Savita’s father said “Just a minute, please”, He was visibly upset and I thought that he was probably going to shout at me or something. I was looking for an escape route if he got too angry.

However he had spoken very politely and I felt I should be polite back. So I replied “Yes, sir” and tried to look deferential in the way I spoke to him. I think he was surprised that I was not rude or swearing but he started to speak:

“I do not understand this world – it wasn’t like this where my wife and I come from – I am confused – a woman marrying a woman – what is this? But I have spoken to my daughter – she has told me she loves you. She has told me she wants you as her partner. So I guess I must respect you as her husband. I do not want to lose my daughter. I have seen her grow from a baby and always I have loved her. I know she is sad and I saw she did not want a man and so I told my wife to stop finding a husband. But still she was sad and she said she was bringing home a girl – I knew this was not just a friend but my wife said ‘no, it can only be a friend’. Then my daughter tells us she wants to lie with you as if you are a man. I am shocked but know she will do it. And I do not want to lose my daughter. I want her happy. But it is not easy.”

He stopped and I looked at him. I could not help again reflecting on the cultures shock he was facing and realising that he really did love his daughter so much to be saying these things and so I said “Thank you, sir. It is hard, sir. You are so good to care for your daughter. Many just say I will not accept and hurt their daughter. I respect you deeply.”

He replied “maybe, but I must apologise – the husband of my daughter should be treated with respect. I must apologise to you and promise that next time you visit my daughter, you will be received as her husband should be.” I did a double-take with the word “husband” but bit my tongue and said “Thank you, sir.”

The screams from the other room were getting louder and he said “Could you please excuse me. I think I may need to settle things a bit.” I gladly agreed and let him go to calm things while I escaped.

I told John about the events and expected him to laugh when I mentioned how I was Savita’s husband but although he teased a bit, he also said to me:

“Grace, you really do get messed up in things, don’t you. This man is trying to settle a difficult clash between his culture and his family – be careful – he sounds as if he has his own agenda. Do you want to be Savita’s husband? Be very careful or someone is going to get hurt.”

I thought of these words when Savita rang me the next day and apologised. She said that things had calmed down afterwards and her mother had finally given way under the pressure of her father and her and Savita said that next time I came, I would be welcomed to the house.

I was very dubious about this “next time” but Savita pleaded with me. I reminded Savita that I was already in a relationship and she said “I know” but, after John’s words, I was more alert and I felt she had skimmed over what I was saying, focussing on her own concerns. When I remarked about being called her “husband”, she laughed and said “Dad is so sweet – he wants me happy. And, gee it would be good being your wife! Would it be too awful being my husband, eh?” I tried to explain my feelings without offending but turned out so wishy-washy that I think Savita could ignore my concerns. I must be more firm but Savita is very attractive and I do feel a bit like butter in her hands.

The failed dinner was before I went away and so I have avoided things up to now but now Savita has set a date (next Tuesday) for my visit and I am actually pretty nervous about the whole thing. She says I will be welcomed as I should be this time. Now, what the fuck does that mean?