part I

I live in a townhouse community - every other house is separated by a brick firewall - the other wall is merely wallboard for each unit. Over the years I have had a number of hot neighbors (our bedrooms adjoin upstairs) - some young marrieds, some young studs bringing home their pussies to fuck - some pairs of gays into heavy sex with their partners or studs they bring home for sex. I live alone and occasionally have had neighbors who rapped on the wall when my own sex sessions got too hot for them.

The townhouse next door (on the wallboard side) sold recently and I watched anxiously for the new neighbor to arrive. Hotdamn! It was a young guy in his late 20s - an Indian (an India Indian). I thought I'd died and gone to heaven! He was a computer type, very Americanized, handsome as hell, black haired, dark bedroom eyes, slight mustache, stocky but not chubby, "good enuf to eat" body, beautiful bronze skin. Did I say he had a friendly killer smile? He seemed to be straight - the girl who moved in with him left a month later to return to Spain. I HAD to have him and began plotting some way to get acquainted.

One afternoon - a hot sunny day in Summer - he was out working in his patio. He had on just an undershirt and longish baggy shorts. This was the most naked I had seen him and his body was everything I had been jacking over for weeks. Very hairy arms, legs, pits, and what chest I could see. Fantastic! His back patio gate was open so I ambled over to introduce myself and offered him help if he needed it. He smiled his "this smile will get me anything I want" smile and gladly accepted my offer of help. He was uprooting bushes and vines and weeds and trimming a tree - despite the heat and dirty work, I was ready to do ANYTHING for him to get on his good side. I was almost dizzy and weak with lust for his body - his sweaty aroma, damp pits (no cologne), manly aroma had my head spinning. His shorts bulged not (yet) tenting from an erection but from his generous natural package. We worked together for an hour, my doing my best to get as near and bump into him as I dared do. I was determined somehow to get a look up his shorts - it was clear from his swinging package that he had no underwear on. Finally I got my chance. He had climbed up into the tree to cut some limbs and I stood underneath to catch the limbs as they fell. What an erotic sight! I had to be as discreet as my lust would let me but I managed periodically to get good views of his cock and balls buried in a black mass of curly thick hair. The cock was 4 or so inches long being soft then, and his hairy balls were contained in a similar hairy sac - generous, meaty, lowhanging, matted in sweat from the heat - dripping it occasionally - I managed to catch bits of his ballsweat on me without him noticing. How I was able to function helping him I don't know. My wildest fantasies about him were being satisfied right there and then - I tented my shorts but not too obviously since I am not generously endowed, and spotted my shorts with precum which was esy to pass off as sweat from our work in the sun. Finally we finished our work and he invited me in for some air conditioning and a cool drink.

part II

My Indian had one of those impossible names with lots of vowels and unpronouncable by Westerners so he used "Deejay" for short. He poured me a drink - a stiff one I learned later - and excused himself to take a quick shower. The bathroom was next to the kitchen where I awaited him. After some time enjoying my drink and hearing no shower running I began to wonder. Lo and behold, he appeared in all his glory, naked but for a leather harness and studded jockstrap with a trapdoor. "All right, you fucking caucasian fag, crawl over here and get what you've been wanting since I moved in here!" It seems Deejay had been on to me all along. I could only stare at him in shock. "I said "crawl" bitch!" I knew he was an aggressive top from listening to him fuck his women on the other side of our bedroom wall but I had no idea he sexed with male subs.

I dropped to my hands and knees as ordered and began a slow crawl towards my now Master Deejay. I was still in shock but driven beyond my cntrol towards him. "Don't look up, bitch, I'll tell you when you can feast your eyes on this Indian body you fucking want so bad." "Now, tell me what you were wanting me to do to you while you were jacking off over me." (I jack aggressively and he had been hearing me thru the wall). "Fucking tell me what you were doing to my body while you were working yourself into orgasms of cumlust for me." "Please, Sir, let me see your naked body, stand over me and lord it over me, please let me look and touch and lick and suck and eat and worship your fantastic body!" I was completely submissive and under Master's control due to the powerful lust he enraged in every part of my being. I had no thought but to be enslaved by his man-ness and forced to worship and service every part of him. He knew it, of course - Asians, especially Indians are Masters of sexual mastery and control and experts in all the dark and mysterious sexual arts and depravities - it is a religion to them. "Lick my feet, slut, and tell me what sex gods we Indian men are - what inferior slaves you white bitches are meant to serve your Masters."

"Strip naked, bitch!" he ordered. I did, and raced to Master Deejay's feet and bathed his toes and heels and soles with my saliva. His aroma was exhilerating - he was unwashed and aromatic from our work outside - I tongue bathed and massaged first one foot, then the other till they glistened in cleanness. "Fucking good, slut - now work your mouth up to my jewels." Master slipped a leather collar around my neck and lifted me by its chain to his crotch. It was encased in a trapdoored studded jock, by this time bulging and throbbing. "You want that fucking piece of meat, don't you slut!" (God - HOW I wanted it!). I begged, I pleaded, I drooled for it - I bit at the leather bulge - Master smashed it into my face, rubbed its wetness all over my head and nipples - jammed it into my body - but kept his cock encased to tease me into a frenzy. Tears filled my eyes in frustration as I tried desperately to rape his jockstrap. Master reached over and slapped my bare ass - one, two - five times - hard. This dropped me to the floor and brought me back to reality. Lifting me up roughly by my nipples - I screamed in pleasure - he mashed my mouth into his bulge. "Open that trapdoor with your teeth, Aryan bitch and let that godmonster out!"

part III

I should tell you, my Indian Master was a Hindu with all the arrogance and air of superiority of that group. He looked down on other Indians as lower caste, and on other groups as well - espec. Aryans or Westerners like me. He could be harsh and rude and demeaning - all of which fit our relationship perfectly as I was into humiliation and abuse from tops and their behavior heightened my sexual arousal. I was meant to serve my "superiors" and thrilled to know they chose to use me for their pleasures. Yet our relationship was somewhat schizo too - On the surface and for all the neighbors knew, we were friendly neighbors and he appeared friendly with them too. In the outside world, I genuinely liked him and he was fond of me. He was always polite and charming. It was only behind our doors that he became the Master demon he was, and I became the slutty slave.

I was last on my knees before Master Deejay and dragged up to his jockstrap by my nipples. How I attacked that leathered bulge while he mauled my nipples. His cock strained at the jockstrap and ached to get free - he would not release it to me yet. The tip of its head poked out from its prison so that I was able to lick at it in frustration. Even constrained Master's cock appeared enormous - fat, long, steely hard. Finally I popped the 2 snaps and the trapdoor opened. There lay before me a dark black mass of hair surrounding about 6 inches of the darkest cock I had ever seen (even on a Black). The head was still buried out of sight at one end and the root buried at the other. Part of his ball sac was also exposed. I wrapped my lips around the exposed portion of his cock and played it like a harmonica, lipping, tonguing, lapping. I gave it love bites - most doms love having their hard cocks bitten - in desperation I took his cock in my teeth and tugged at it - shaking my head like a dog shaking a rabbit it caught - the fucker plopped out! In a second that godcock was down my throat as my tongue washed his root. Master made me pay for my brashness roughfucking my face, jamming my head down on his man-ness, kicking my ass with his heels, mashing my nipples. He cursed and snarled like a wild animan, calling me every filthy thing in Hindi in his sexual rage - I didn't understand the words but I knew from his wild lust I was his slut, his whore, his bitch, his cocksucker, his slave. Slapping my ass frantically Master Deejay jammed his meat into me and shot for me my first load of Indian cum, shot after shot, jerk and throb over and over - my head was clasped between his muscled thighs, his hands jammed my mouth onto his root, I could barely breathe, both totally spent he held me that way for 30 minutes. With his cum in my belly I was unquestionably his to use and abuse. And he did.

We had many sessions over the months, too numerous to recount. As our bedrooms adjoined thru a thin wall, whenever he felt the need to indulge his sexual depravities he'd rap on the wall in the evenings as a signal for me to report for duty. Master practiced every art and kink on me drawn from a thousand years of Indian erotic lore in the sexual arts. He gradually introduced me to Indian friends of his and made me service them as his personal whore. Five or 6 would gather at his place, smoke aromatic tobaccos, snd sip exotic drinks - I was kept squatting in a corner. Throughout the evening one or another would come over to me, drop the folds of his Indian robe over me completely, and have me service his cock and balls in front of the others who jeered at me and cheered him on. They all got high mouthfucking me in front of each other. I understood most were married but discreet. They never fucked me but each demanded 2 or 3 blowjobs and ball work over the course of the evening. And all were rough at it and dirty talking - they obviously looked down on me and disliked "fags". These Indian men used me like a whore, like the whore I was, and I could never get enough of Indian cock, Indian cum, and their unusual and exotic Eastern techniques and practices.

Master Deejay had a glory hole made in our adjoining bedroom wall, concealed by a panel on both sides and a bureau - one of his friends was a carpenter. Why? Well, some of his Indian friends preferred to be anonymous for their blowjobs. When he had them over, I was told to wait in my bedroom all evening - periodically one would signal and our doors opened - there I'd find anther dark, hard Indian cock anxious to disgorge its cum on an Aryan cocksucker. I eagerly obliged! All were uncut - a delicious treat and which allowed a talented cocksucker to display all of his skills. I could always distinguish Master's cock when it appeared at the glory hole. Master continued to roughfuck pussy on occasion - he never thought of himself as gay - and sometimes he would treat me with the scene by leaving the door open for me to hear the fucking, the dirty pussy talk, the moans and cries, the dual orgasms - I would be jacking to his thrusts and cums.

Unfortunately it all ended after a year or so when Master returned to India. The glory hole was sealed without a trace. I managed to continue sucking some of the men for a few months but things were never the same again without Master's leadership and participation.

continue reading...  My India Master - Parts IV, V, VI & VII