I started this on another thread but then had to delete my profile. So here it is again with the next chapter!
Indian weddings are both exciting and physically draining. They are a five day affair filled with small ceremonies intended to bring two families together. They are a dirty playground where you see the worst example of misogynistic human behaviour disguised under layers of diplomacy. The brides side are hosts, entertainers, and slaves to the groom, his family and guests. We are expected to be subservient and to meet their requests (read dominant demands).
I remember it very clearly. It was my older sister’s wedding. It was a destination wedding in Goa. She was the first girl in our family to marry in our generation so the pressure to set a standard was quite high from our family itself. In between all the religious ceremonies and cultural rituals, we were meant to entertain with songs, dances and great food. There was also a lot of dressing up - changing to a new outfit for every event. One tiny mistake, and it could all come crashing down leading to a huge embarrassment, or worse, the groom’s family walking away before the wedding was complete and bride was given away.
As it was Goa’s summer, I made sure all my outfits were light, made of the thinnest and sheerest of chiffon’s. I was wearing a tiny baby pink backless sari blouse with a long princess pink skirt, figure hugging at my hips before a high slit and lashes of flared panels at the bottom. My midriff was bare as my see-through sash was well see though.
As the younger sister, I had to kickstart with a welcome dance when the groom’s family and friends arrived. I could feel the voyeuristic eyes of every male piercing at my smooth curves. The intention behind the dance was to let everyone know that I was of age. I might as well have been a burlesque dancer at a strip joint the way I was being gazed at. It was like every curvature in my body, every nuanced flickering of my eye lashes, swirling of my bare delicate arms and fingers were a signal for all the men (of both sides) to mentally imagine fucking me.
During the dance, I was assigned to welcome the groom’s brother, his best man and their friends with garlands made of fresh mogra flowers. These jasmine like scented flowers have an intoxicating aroma and are said to be an aphrodisiac. The very act of placing a garland on these young men’s necks was a licence that they could flirt, tease and touch me. I could tell from the nudge nudge wink wink attitude of these men that the next five days were going to change my life.
When I finished the dance, there was fantastic applause from the groom’s side and wild whistles from the boys. There was a sigh of relief from our side that wedding ceremonies had begun. Now it was about keeping everyone happy.
After finishing the dance, I had to offer everyone from thandai. This a cool sherbert like welcome drink. The ones I was serving were laced with rum - and served discretely as drinking alcohol openly isn’t done during the day out of respect to the elders - even though they all know about it.
Serving everyone in my outfit was proving to be a nightmare. As I bent to offer a drink, the men would ogle at my cleavage. My backless blouse meant I had no bra on - so they were looking right into my small pert breasts. Added to that, the slit in my skirt kept opening from the sea breeze to reveal more and more of my legs as I was mincing my sexy butt carrying this tray of cool refreshments. It was unnerving and I kept spilling the overflowing drinks onto my outfit made of thin chiffon so becoming instantly transparent.
So, I rushed back to my hotel room for a quick shower and change of outfit. As I came out of the shower, I find the groom’s brother Jas and his friend Robby in my room. Wrapped in just a towel, I am confused why they are here. Their air con wasn’t working so my uncle had switched my room for theirs. Great! So I have to now walk down the corridor in just a tiny towel as the concierge had already taken my bags. I was completely petrified by this. They boys offer an apology and offer to move back to their room - but I can’t let them as we are the hosts. I can feel both men looking at my towel clad body and feel so naked.
Sensing this, Jas the groom’s brother asks Robby to get me some clothes from my room. They both look at each other with a knowing smile as Robby leaves. I am left alone in the room with Jas in just a tiny towel. He comes up to me and compliments me by saying I dance well. “I wonder if you will move that well on my cock” he adds. I realise I have been setup.
He takes the garland off his neck, plucking each mogra flower and pressing it against my body. This infuses mogra oil scent into my body. I am nervous yet excited. Should I walk away and risk offending Jas (who could then create a scene) or allow him to show me the pleasures of the flesh and take my virginity?
Jas corners me against the wall and blocks me with his arm on the left as he rubs the mogra flower into my body.
He ask’s me if I am a virgin. I can feel my body flush up and get hot as I was feeling a little embarrassed to be caught wearing a small towel and by body dripping wet from the shower. I take a moment to breathe in the intense power of the flower’s oil and consider my answer. If I reply yes, I know he will want me that very minute. And if I say no on the other hand, I could have some control and play with him a little. It would give me a chance to see if I want more or not. I could feel him breathing out on my near naked body. Oh.. I wanted him. So I looked straight into his eyes with a cheeky smile and my hand goes right down to grab his crotch. He’s taken by surprise. ‘Oh big boy… how typical for you to make a move on the bride’s hot sister? Too bad for you, this bride’s little sister knows a thing or two about how to take care of you. I think we need to loosen you up’.
As I was caressing his crotch, I could tell that he was a blessed man. His cock was incredibly hard and thick. He had a nervous smile. With a glint in my eye, I moved my other hand and started to unbutton his shirt. He had this amazing covering of soft jet black hair covering his athletic chest. Then I leaned in to kiss him, or so he thought. Except, I moved my lips to his ear and whisper “I bet you think that just because I am from the bride’s side, I am supposed to make you happy. With a strict tone in my voice, I command to him, be a good boy and obey what I say. Otherwise I will scream and everyone will want to know why you didn’t leave the room with Robby’.
‘I am going to strip you naked. I want to see everything’. A cold swear ran by his neck. Perplexed he stops blocking me and moves away. I push him onto the bed. As he falls on the bed, I walk in between his legs and unbuckle his belt. I lean in to kiss his lips as my fingers undo his trousers. I get up to see what his baby maker looks likes. ‘Take your cock out?’ I ask him. And as he pulls out his 7in thick cut cock, I give him a glimpse of my naked body, by opening my towel. My small but pert breasts down to my belly chain, and below my innie jewelled belly button, my hairless pussy. He runs his hands over my exposed body sending shivers down my spine. I exhale and tense up as he tickles. ‘I don’t like being tickled. If you are going to touch me, hold me like a man.’ I quip.
‘Wow’ he exhales out. ‘If the bride’s little sister is hotter than a scotch bonnet, my brother Dan (the groom) is in for a very happy marriage’.
‘Yes, Dan is a lucky man. But I hope he’s more comfortable with nudity than you are. be comfortable in your nakedness. We have 5 days when you will have be naked several times for me’.
Jas’s thick cut cock twitched and throbbed. I could see his cock needed attention. It wanted a release as I noticed the first release of precum. It wanted some lip love. Being a virgin and totally curious about what a cock felt like, I bring my lips close to his cock head. I rub my lips over his precum as if I was applying lipstick. I lick my lips as I am looking into his eyes. He closes his eyes. And with my cheeky smile, I pick up his shirt and my towel, and start to walk out of the room (putting his shirt on). As I open the door, I see Robby standing outside and usher him in to see his best friend Jas naked and hard on the bed. I walk away smiling. It’s going to be a fun wedding.
Like the grinning Cheshire Cat, I walk along the corridor to find my new room wearing Jas’s shirt and the towel draped around my waist. That grin was soon going to be wiped away as you won’t believe who I bump into. It’s Jas’s stiff upper lip mum and merry dad! His mum just looks at his shirt on me, her stare burning it away. Jas’s dad is a little more bemused and cheekily asks why I am wearing Jas’s shirt! Obviously I can’t tell the truth and I suspect they both know that whatever I tell them will be a lie. His mum is going to paint me out to be a besharam (shameless) slut to all the ladies. “Auntie, Uncle - Jas was shifted into my room because the aircon in the room wasn’t working. They shifted my luggage over but didn’t know I was having a long soak in the bath. So Jas being such a chivalrous young man, offered to give me his shirt so I could get to my room. You have brought him up so well - he just closed his eyes an didnt look at me. I am so proud that didi (my sister) is getting married in such a caring and respectful family”.
With that I squeeze between both of them, making sure my body rubs against Jas’s father’s body and walk towards my room. His dad chuckles while his mum just scowls.
I have to rush to get dressed for the henna party tonight. I put on my burgundy and gold lace outfit - a small barely see-through bustier that is only lined to cover my nipples. I lightly dust rose gold shimmer powder over my naked shoulders and around small cleavage and put on my favourite Rose Oud perfume. My skirt is shorter, at just below my knees. I need it short because when the henna artist applies the wedding Mehndi on my hands and feet, I don’t want to ruin my outfit. Plus the henna party is a girls only night of merriment - singing songs and dancing, to entertain the bride whose henna will take 5-6hrs. Everyone sits on special giant mattresses that have long cushions in the open air garden. You could fall asleep while your hands and feet were being gently drawn on with the cold henna.The guys aren’t allowed here and they have their own plans of a drinking and poker card games night. It was planned to avoid the guys gatecrashing.
Everyone loves my lace outfit - it reveals and yet hides - the colour on my skin tone makes it look pure class with that hint of innocent slut to be and totally appropriate for this evening. I have to dance a series of naughty songs, some sexual like the famous Choli Ke Peeche (what’s under the sari blouse). I am absolutely exhausted at the end of the 10 dance numbers I have prepared. Some women are filming my dance numbers, circulating on what’s app
and one puts it on Facebook live unbeknownst to me.
When all the ladies and girls have all had their henna done and are ready to leave is when I finally get a chance to sit down and have my henna done. Intricate temporary tattoos of flowers and diamonds, paisleys and Mughal symbols are drawn on my both my palms and backs of my hands - going right up to my elbows. From soles of my feet to my below my knees are also to be covered. It’s going to take at least two hours, so everyone kisses me good night and head to their rooms for tomorrow’s festivities. You see, until the henna doesn’t dry up, I can’t walk or use my hands, as the design will be ruined. I am left alone when the henna artist leaves. Tired, I fall asleep on the mattress.
I have very sensual dreams in my exhausted deep sleep state. I must have nodded off barely an hour when I woken up my something wet rubbing over my lips. I open my eyes and it’s Jas and Robby. Jas’s hard cock is rubbing my lips covering it with precum and Robby is taking pics of it. “We have some unfinished business”, Jas says. “We saw your dances on Facebook, quite the mover aren’t you”
I don’t have the energy to be outraged and my dreams have left me feeling horny. I can’t move or touch anything with the henna - so I am pretty much tied up. My lips part open to allow his hard cock into warm wet mouth. Good girl he says, as Robby exclaims. My hand motions Robby to stop filming and I part my legs. Robby can’t believe that he’s invited to join in. He lifts my short flared skirt up to reveal my tiny satin panties. “You are right, she’s a Desi slut” says Robby, “her panties are soaking wet” I lick Jas’s shaft and balls as Robby pulls my panties down to reveal my hairless pussy as he gets down to eat it. Jas thrusts his cock back down my throat making my eyes water before letting me suck his balls. Robby seems to be a master licker as his experienced tongue makes me shudder. “What do you think, we fuck here in the open or take her to the room” asks Jas. Do it here in the open, says Robby. Her henna is still a bit wet and it won’t look right carrying her - especially if anyone is in the hotel foyer.”
“Is she ready? My cock is wet enough” Says Jas.
Robby swaps places with Jas - and I am now sucking Robby’s cock as Jas starts to open my pussy with his big babymaker.
I can’t believe that my virginity is going to be taken my two guys out in the open air. I am excited by the prospect and eager too. This is what Indian weddings are all about. As Jas pushes in, I let out a small yelp and then whimper. As he pulls out, it dawns onto him that I was a virgin. He looks at me in the eye and I wink at him. He slides it back in more sensuously knowing what’s just happened.
With a Desi cock in my pussy and a Desi cock in my mouth, I am a Desi slut and I love it!
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