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Growing up as a black woman, there has always been this cultural divide between black and white, white and black, black and asian, on and on. When it came to east indian men, I have always been curious about them- those dark eyes and jet black sensuous wavy hair, that were complimented nicely by that smooth olive skin, mysteriously shine as bright as the sun; I had always wanted to have a taste, but sadly there were hardly any of them around where I grew up- out of the few that I had seen- some were tall, some were shorter, but always with that handsome smile; but as you would expect, they were always with indian women; and from what I knew, their culture always limited any kind of deep relationship a woman of another race or culture could possibly form with them; and my own parents, at that time already uncomfortable with white men going after black women, could not possibly even fathom me being with an east indian man.

So that was that, and I grew up, had various relationships with black men had a couple of flings with white men as well that my parents never knew about, and then I met my high school sweetheart- a black man -Charlie, and we have been married ever since- although there had always been this belief that black men were large; of all the men I had been with, including my husband, and take it from a black woman's experience: none of them were larger than average, but we were satisfied with each other, at least at the time. Our love life was fine, but as a few years passed by, it began to lack that special explosion of passion that was evident at the beginning of our relationship, and my husband, though he never mentioned it, he could sense my dwindling passion. We began to lookup other sexual practices- and that heralded the birth of our swinging lifestyle- but I noticed my husband not only enjoyed intercourse with other women, but often he enjoyed watching other men taking me- and this really fed the flames of our own sex life. So this continued for while, and my sex life took on a new spark as I made wild love with a plethora of other men- black, white, european you name it; but not yet indian- and this only served to stir up my fascination with the mystery of the indian man- and I had often discussed this issue with my husband. Anyways, one autumn night , I was drinking a glass of wine while retiring onto the sofa after a hard day's work. As my hand would encircle the glass, I would find myself slowly caressing the edges of it, with soft gentle strokes, and my mind would wander to images of the indian men, thinking what it would be like to explore the darkness and depths of what lurked under those clothes, I wondered: what would it be like to be given a lesson by these masters and maharajas of kama sutra? As I lifted to the edge of the glass towards my lips, I found myself licking the smooth shiny edge, imagining how that bulging brown rod would feel against the edge of my lips; I then found my tongue running along the edge of the glass, my body shivering with shocks of excitement and delight, coursing through body and pelvis.. my hand slid down slowly underneath my robe and in between my thighs rubbing up and down, back and forth with a slow, wonderful, glorious, and fabulous friction as I fondled the lips of pussy, my fingertips lightly tickling, teasing, and fondling around the moist , wet opening- and I began to smell a slight aroma of fresh sweat... then suddenly two hands fell on my shoulders, and then lightly slid down, only to disappear into the cleavage formed by the angle of my magenta colored robe... cupped my breasts- and I could feel the heat of breath- "Charlie, when did you-" as I turned around I was startled as I found myself face to face with a tall, broad shouldered, heavily chiseled brown faced man and obviously he was in a mood for some passion. “My name’s Mohit, I work with your husband, but he wanted me to work with you..”. I found myself with a whirlwind of emotions flowing through my mind and body- I was startled, and yet aroused at the same time.. As I began to mumble “What did Charlie say…”, Mohit instantly ripped off his shirt to reveal a toned chest and abdomen glistening with beads of sweat as they reflected the dim, dancing light of the living room fireplace. And then, before I could say anything more, he pulled down his jeans to the floor with a deliciously devious glaze in his eyes, as my eyes were irresistibly drawn to the pulsating mass in his drawers: mmmmmm!- it was fabulously thick and long, and I could see the outline of the swollen head, it seemed as if it were ready to burst within his boxers!- He then proceeded to slowly, deliberately and teasingly slide his boxers down, watching my reaction; as he could see my breathing getting heavier, my body becoming drenched with sweat, my heart pounding faster and harder with anticipation- his way of teasing me was unbelievably erotic and drove me off the wall with passion as I could feel a rush of heat as my pussy swelled with fire and sweat; he finally slid the drawers off as softly as velvet against my skin to reveal… A long, juicy thick rich butterscotch caramel twitching mass, with an exquisitely round, long and inflamed aching mahogany-colored head, the largest I had seen on any guy! I couldn`t contain myself any longer; I dropped my gown, feeling the sudden coolness of the room air against my naked skin as it tickled my nipples, the cleft of my ass, and the lips of my labia. I rushed forward into his firm frame and my lips and tongue dug into his, playing wicked games with his tongue, with my eyes nearly rolling up into their sockets as I moaned imagining the wonderful primal pleasure of what was to come next… At this point I thought to myself that among all the black and white men I`ve been with over the years- some including athletes, policemen, firemen, and even marines, it was only an Indian cock that could completely fill and satisfy the gaping depth of my pussy, as none of these men before came even close to matching the elegantly monstrous size of this almond brown stud! Yum! Mohit clutched me firmly in his arms, as I could feel myself drifting off to heavenly realms as my face and lips were pressed against the warmth of his smooth-steel chest. I was ready to escort him upstairs, but my arousal, my passion was so intensely feverish at this point, that I simply grabbed his head as I fell back onto the couch, his lips landing in the cleavage of my full, bare breasts. The rest of his body slowly drifted and climbed onto mine, he then lifted the heaviness of his body off me as he arched his back and held his weight on his knees and palms, he slowly drew that volcanic, aching, throbbing sausage backwards, looked me in the eye with a handsomely devious grin, oh, how badly I wanted to visit the naughty kingdom of this dark, mysterious maharaja right now! He slowly brought forward his massive tool and then stopped an inch away from me, his wicked smile deepening- oh what delicious torment! Ooooohhhh I wanted him so bad right now…. Playing into his game, I wrapped my legs around his the solidness of his back, finally, with one last grin, he thrust forward his thick meat package like a rocket into the quivering walls of my pussy, as I let a long, loud, satisfying moan- this was what sex was truly about, what I had longed for years before- I could feel the entire depth of my tunnel being filled, of being stimulated; but just as quickly as my satisfaction appeared, so did the heat- it kept growing, I was hungry for him, I could fuck him all night long! Ohhhhhhhhh yesssssssssss…. as my eyes opened with Mohit heaving on top of me in a slow rhythmic movement, I could see the silhouette of a face appear through the narrow slit of window formed by the incompletely drawn curtains to the side of me- it was Charlie, the mist of his breath forming a patch of fog on the outside, while his lips curled into a dark, satisfied smile…