Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2009 18:47:56 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Daedalus Chapter One

I.
1975
Awakening


	Ajit loved and respected his parents.
	The warmth, compassion and security that he had known came to an
abrupt end, a turning point two months after his fifteenth birthday.
William and Lalita had taken a weekend flight to Colombo to visit her
ailing mother. On the return trip, the plane went down, crashed in a remote
part of south central India. The authorities attributed the tragedy to bad
weather. All on board were lost.
	The loneliness that Ajit experienced was beyond description. The
despair, the anguish, the grief was almost more than he could bear. The
loss came at a time when a young man needs his parents the most.
	The summer holidays were just two weeks off. It was decided by
Uncle James (William's elder brother and Ajit's Uncle-guardian) and by the
Head Master of Ajit's school that he could leave early and take his
term-end examinations when he returned after the holidays.

	Zombie-like he plodded through the ten days from his parents death
to boarding the plane with his Uncle James for the fliught back to England.
Ajit's being was engulfed in a gray fog as the plane left New Delhi for
London's Heathrow. The normally joyful reunion with Uncle James and Aunt
Beth's children--Anna, Mary and Stan--was tempered by the loss. Both Anne
and Mary had been married two years ago and Anne was pregnant. Stan, six
years Ajit's senior, was in his second year at Cambridge. Their age
differences and their separate homes was a bit of a blessing to Ajit as
they generally left him alone. One needs the time to grieve and to began to
heal, although Ajit was not aware of that fact, or, frankly, much of
anything else.
	Within a few weeks the initial shock of his parent's death had worn
off and Ajit was able to begin to participate in the normal activities of a
young fifteen-year-old. There were, however, times when he would
inexplicably burst into tears. Aunt Beth would then enfold him in her arms
and quietly croon some lullaby. Uncle James was at a loss as to what to
do. James and Beth conscientiously tried to fill the days for him so that
his mind might be diverted from his sorrow. But, still, there were those
long minutes before sleep when his mind would gravitate to the memory of
his parents and he would fall asleep on a tear-soddened pillow.
	One Friday evening at the dinner table, several weeks after Ajit
had arrived in England, Uncle James asked him if he would like to visit
Aunt Jane and cousins Devin and Chad who were going to the beach for a
couple of weeks. Devin was a year older than Ajit and Chad a year
younger. They had gotten along famously when he had visited England
before. The prospects of the beach and his cousins seemed 'like a swell
idea.' Uncle George (Ajit's father's younger brother) and Aunt Jane's
husband, would be busy on some new deal or other, and would only be able to
come down to the beach on the weekends. The next morning Aunt Beth packed
his bag and slipped a £10 note into his pocket with a wink.
	Ajit was not poor. His parents had made a will, and their estate,
although not large, would be more than ample to support Ajit's upbringing
and education with a small nest-egg left over. But, of course, all this was
beyond his interest or understanding now. Ajit gave his aunt a warm hug and
a heartfelt, "Thanks," and climbed into the car with Uncle James for the
short trip to the beach. By early afternoon they pulled up to a flowered
cottage surrounded by a stone fence, high on a bluff overlooking the
water. The narrow, sandy beach spread out below. "It's something you'd see
in a travel brochure," Ajit thought.
	Devin and Chad burst from the front door and ran to the gate, the
younger Chad somewhat more effusive than his elder brother. Jane hurried up
to Ajit to enclose him in a warm hug. "How you have grown," she said, "Let
me see you." She held Ajit at arms length appraising him as one would some
show horse. "You're really quite a young man now and so handsome," she
gushed and enfolded Ajit again in her arms.
	Ajit blushed uncontrollably and took a couple of steps backward.
His uncle, noting the young man's discomfort blurted out, "Now Jane, don't
embarrass the boy. . ." then, he added good humoredly, "Do you have the tea
ready?"
	"Of course," she stated with mock hauteur, "do come in." She
started down the path to the front door and suddenly turned about,"Oh,
guess who's here. . . . ? Francine!"
	"Oh?" James queried, arching a single eyebrow--this action usually
meant that he was not particularly pleased, a habit Ajit was later to
understand. "When did she get back from the States?" he asked, then added,
"She didn't call. . . but then she wouldn't!" Again his eyebrow arched.
	"She dropped in last night, just out of the blue, but then isn't
that just like her?"
	"Yes, it is."
	The two walked into the cottage while the boys dashed off down to
the beach. Francine, the only Miller sister was born between William and
George. She had been spoiled and lived a lifestyle which was not altogether
acceptable to the brothers, particularly James who had assumed the role of
the pater familia since the death of his father two years ago. Francine,
now 34, "dabbled in the theatre (pronounced: thea-TAH)," were her words. He
preferred to spell it 'theater.' A moot point to be sure. She had appeared
in a number of plays, minor roles with decent reviews. She was a striking
woman. Reddish-blond hair which she stated was natural, lively blue eyes, a
full mouth--her face was perfectly proportioned--so too was her
body--perfectly proportioned, that is--which some saw as luxurious.
'Striking' is maybe not quite the right word, she was stunning. She
possessed that quality for which men lusted over and women outwardly found
somewhat repugnant but
 inwardly envied. She was sitting in a cushioned rattan chair, wearing a
light low cut summer dress, her legs were crossed and she was flipping
through a magazine. She glanced up as Jane and James entered, a beautiful
smile spread across her face as she stood up.
	"James, how nice to see you," she said in mock surprise. She
demurely placed a light kiss on his cheek--a sisterly kiss.
	"Nice to see you too, Francie," he lied, placing an equally
brotherly kiss on her forehead. All James' siblings were called by their
given names--James, William, Francine and George--no diminutives or
nicknames. The one exception was James who referred to Francine as
"Francie." Why? No one really knew, except that he had always done it.
	The next ten or fifteen minutes were taken up with social niceties,
carefully skirting those topics which each knew would bring forth the
other's wrath. It was a kind of a staid minuet. They were finishing their
first cup of tea when the boys burst in. "We're going swimming," they
announced and moved to the hall-way.
	"Come, come young man, where are your manners? Can't you greet your
aunt?" said James to Ajit with mock sternness.
	Turning around, he blurted out, "Oh! Hello, Aunt Francine, it's so
nice to see you again. Please, forgive my rudeness," he added as he
reddened.
	"Of course, of course," holding out her hand, palm down, "A
handsome young man has better things to do," she said, displaying, what
could only be considered, a seductive smile. Ajit lightly took her hand,
mad a curt bow over it, backed away and followed his cousins out of the
room. "Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous," she said under her breath. James'
eyebrow arched. The adults returned to their tea.
	Moments later the three young men burst from the hall-way which
lead to the four small but comfortable bedrooms. They were animated, towels
around their necks, sandals on their feet and all three wearing brief,
nylon swimming trunks. Devin and Ajit's lanky bodies already belied the
Adonis-like physiques into which they would develop. Ajit's body was
somewhat more developed than his cousin's, doubtlessly due to his genetic
make-up. Chad, on the other hand, still had a year or two to go before
matching his cousin and brother's post-adolescent build. Nonetheless, all
three possessed an unawareness of themselves which youth brings. It was a
natural heedlessness that the conscientious upbringing by their parents had
engendered. James and Jane lovingly glanced at the boys as they hurriedly
exited the parlor amused at their unabashed, carefree joy. The joy that a
holiday at the beach engenders. Francine's look, on the other hand, can
only be described as
 something akin to a predatory ogle, particularly where Ajit was
concerned. Her cup clattered as she returned it to its saucer. Again,
James' eyebrow arched. He had a somber presentiment, but quickly put it out
of his mind.
	The three raced down to the beach and plunged into the water,
yelling and splashing each other with unbridled delight. They dove under
the small waves and swam about, exalting in the physical exertion and each
other's company. Twenty or thirty minutes of unrestrained physical activity
and play had passed when the three cousins breathlessly hauled themselves
out of the surf onto the narrow, sandy beach. Ajit heard his name being
called. He looked to the top of the bluff, some thirty feet high, and saw
his Uncle James.
	"I'll see you next Saturday," James shouted, "Have a good time."
	"Okay, thanks. 'Til next Saturday," he shouted back and waved.
	Just then Aunt Jane and Aunt Francine came into view on either side
of his uncle. Ajit waved to the two ladies and beamed a broad smile.
	"Don't be too long," Jane shouted to the three.
	"Okay," they answered in consort.
	The three exhausted young men flopped down on the sand and
stretched. "She's got some knockers," Devin stated.
	"Who?" queried Ajit.
	"Aunt Francine. Who did you think?" Devin answered.
	"Oh. . . She sure does," Ajit shyly conceded.
	"All you think of is knockers," Chad admonished his older brother.
	Devin knowingly rolled his eyes to Ajit, "He's too young yet."
	"Bugger off," came Chad's retort.
	The three laughed. Francine's figure was opulent. Ajit had noticed
that, and the floral sun-dress that she wore revealed ample decolleté as
well as exhibited the rest of her figure to the maximum. In part it was
Francine's mode of dress that James found, if not offensive, then at least
somewhat too flashy for his taste. Ajit glanced back up the bluff. Uncle
James and Aunt Jane had apparently left. Francine stood alone, legs
slightly apart, enough so that the breeze off the sea caught the dresses
thin fabric, plastered it against her form and displayed her body in high
relief. Ajit couldn't help think that she resembled the Nike his parents
had introduced him to during their trip to Paris. Devin followed Ajit's
glance.
	"Jeeze, you can almost see her cuny," Devin observed lasciviously.
	"Your a sex maniac," Chad blurted out.
	The three laughed, Ajit a little too
self-consciously. Self-conscious because there was a stirring in his
loins. A stirring with which he was not altogether unfamiliar these past
two or three years. He turned over on his stomach and cradled his head in
his arms in an act of self protection. The sun warmed his back, not the
unremitting furnace-like glare of the Delhi sun, but warm, tempered by the
northern latitude. His mind flashed to a secluded beach on the southeastern
coast of Sri Lanka where he and his parents an frequently visited. The
tears welled up in his eyes, he closed them tightly, buried his face in his
cradled arms and tried to will the image away. He fell asleep.
	Somewhat later he was jolted to full consciousness by the light
touch of a hand on his lower back. His eyes snapped open. He raised his
head, turned and met the limpid eyes of his Aunt Francine. "It's time to
come up to the house now, darling," she purred.
	She was kneeling beside him, bent over, allowing him an almost
unencumbered view of her ample breasts. Ajit twisted away, sat up and
brushed the sand from his chest and stomach. "Thanks," he said
self-consciously, then added, "Where's Devin and Chad?"
	"They're swimming," she answered, standing up and allowing the
breeze to billow her skirt, revealing her well formed legs, almost to mid
thigh. She laughed as she pushed her surging skirt down, still gazing
intently at him, "Go and tell them to come up now."
	"Sure. Yes," he responded, jumping up and running to where Devin
and Chad were standing in the surf. She appraised his form with interest as
he trotted up to his cousins.
	Ajit liked his Aunt Francine. She had a way making him, indeed
everyone, think that they and what they had to say were the most important
things at that point. She brought into any room into which she entered a
special kind of light that seemed to effervesce, to illuminate all that
surrounded her. Some called it "charisma," others called it "star quality,"
those who were less positive called it "animal magnetism." Yet, Ajit felt
somewhat uncomfortable in her presence. Her beauty, her quality disquieted
the young man's being.
	Later, after dinner, a short walk into town, and watching the
television, Ajit announced, "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."
	"Of course, dear," answered Aunt Jane. "Sleep well," she added as
he left the parlor for his room. "Devin, Chad, I think it's time for you to
go to bed as well. You've had a busy day," she suggested to her sons in her
quiet motherly fashion.
	"Okay, Mum," they answered in unison, and they too went to their
room.
	"Poor boy," Jane mused, "What an absolutely wrong time to loose his
parents."
	"Ummm . . . " was Francine's acknowledgement of the statement made.
	"I hope that James knows what he's doing, sending him back to
school in New Delhi. The schools are far better here, and besides he has
his family here as well," Jane added. Her statement was prompted more from
a kind of motherly concern than from any overt sense of ethnic superiority.
	"Oh, I don't know. William and Lalita knew what they were
doing. His school seems to be doing a perfectly acceptable job and he does
have family in India too."
	"I know, but . . . . . " Jane went no further. Her concern for Ajit
could not be understood by a woman who had no children, she thought. After
a long pause, "I think I shall retire as well. Hope you'll be comfortable
Francine."
	"I'm sure I shall. I always am here," Francine stated with a warm
smile and a nod of the head, as she too got up from the chair and walked to
her bedroom.
	Jane and George's bedroom was one of the two corner bedrooms,
Francine was given the other corner. Devin and Chad shared a room and Ajit
slept in the fourth bedroom opposite his cousins. The bedrooms were not
large, but commodious. Ajit's was the smallest, barely room for a single
bed, a dresser, a side table and a small chair. All the rooms were
"decorated" in what the interior desecrator called 'English cottage,' which
meant a lot of floral chintz and bric-a-brac.

	At some period during the night Ajit began to experience a highly
erotic dream. He had had these dreams before, one or two times ending in an
nocturnal emission. Always he had mildly regretted waking as the dream and
their sensations irrevocably disappeared, not to be conjured up again. As
he ascended into consciousness the sensations did not abate. He fancied
that his cock was being manipulated in a strange way. Strange because it
felt nothing like when he had played with himself. He floated to the
surface of wakefulness, becoming increasingly aware of his
surroundings. The luxurious manipulations did not cease, rather he rocked
in that voluptuous sea of sensations. He opened his eyes as a score of
sensations and facts registered on his cortex simultaneously: the moon
dimly illuminating the room, the sheet down around his knees, his short
sleeping sarong around his waist, the feeling of his cock being slowly
deliciously fondled, and a form hovering
 over him.
	He started to raise up. "Wha. . . . . ," he began to say, but he
could not get the words out as a hand softly covered his mouth and gently
pushed his head back onto the pillow.
	"Shhhh, don't speak darling. Aunt Francine's going to make you feel
better," came the whispered voice.
	Ajit's sleep filled eyes widened in conscious disbelief. "This must
be a dream," he thought. "What . . . . ," he began again.
	Still again the soft hand gently covered his mouth, "Shhhh,
enjoy. . . . . enjoy," came the whispered response. Only this time the full
lips brushed his ear as she spoke. The touch and the passing of the spoken
breath sent a wonderfully spasmodic chill throughout his being. The
fondling changed its character as Francine lightly encircled the hard cock
with her fingers, began moving them up and down its whole length, and
spiraling her hand at the same time. The feeling, the sensation of this new
ministration brought a low gasp from Ajit's lips and his hips involuntarily
rose off the mattress in a rhythm to match the movement of her hand.
	"Yessss, you like that don't you?" came the whispered statement. It
was not a question. "You like the feel of my hand on your hard cock," she
murmured close to his ear. Her hot breath in his ear and her pistoning
hands convulsed his being. He could not answer. He was transfixed by
multiple sensations.
	Somehow the shock of finding Aunt Francine jacking him off became
neutralized, even disappeared, supplanted by the sensual feelings that he
was experiencing. The thought, "This is not right," became supplanted by,
"Oh, God it feels so good." He quickly began to rise to the pinnacle from
which there was no turning back. Suddenly, Francine stopped her hand motion
and removed it from around his turgid cock. He groaned slightly as his
rigid member tattooed the air with short jerking motions.
	"Not yet, my darling," came the whisper in his ear while at the
same time he could feel her warm hand gently massage his firm abdominal
muscles.
	His breathing began to slow down, and he wondered, "Why did she
stop?"
	Then Francine moved her lips from the vicinity of his ear, down to
his heaving chest. Her hot tongue darted out of her mouth and eagerly
licked one of his nipples. All the while her hand that had so titillated
his cock was now fondling his ball-sack. A hissing sound came as Ajit
involuntarily inhaled through clenched teeth. These unfamiliar sensations
were tumbling throughout his being creating a sensual kaleidoscope in his
minute repertoire of erotic experiences. He breathing again came in short
gasps. This voluptuous roller coaster was sending thousands of sensual,
brilliant lightening flashes throughout his mind and body. Then her tongue
traced a hot, moist line down over his chest and abdomen. Ajit opened his
eyes just in time to see his cockhead disappear into Francine's mouth.
	"Oh, God," he whispered and closed his eyes again. The sensation,
at the time, he would have described as 'other worldly.' He felt his cock
sinking into the depth of Francine's hot, moist, tongue-twisting mouth. Her
warm moist lips gripping the sides of his cock as they descended. He had
heard of the term 'cock-sucker.' It had been used at school as a term of
extreme derision. At no time had he contemplated the actual meaning of the
term. He could feel his cock began to slide out of Francine's throat and
mouth, and then just as suddenly plunge back down again. It was
indescribably luscious, uncontrollably erotic. What had been a tainted,
smutty word--'cock sucker'--now became ecstasy beyond compare.
	He forcibly opened his eyes again to see Francine's mouth draw his
long hard cock deep into her throat. Her lips disappearing into his black
cock hairs and her hair partially hiding her face. She deftly swept her
hair back, her glistening blue eyes meeting Ajit's in a knowing and
lascivious glance. Ajit's eyes snapped shut as the pinnacle again
appeared. Every muscle, every nerve fiber, every cell in his body prepared
for that primal surge, a feeling of delicious pain/pleasure transfused his
body, he involuntarily thrust his hips upwards, attempting to shove his
cock deeper into that delicious, moist, hot mouth and then in a blinding
flash of light--release, strong, total and absolute came in rapid
pulsations. With a low groan, he collapsed back onto the bed. Francine
softly laid the detumescent member back against its cushioning ball-sack,
drew down his sleeping sarong and pulled the sheet up over his chest. She
reached down and placed a soft kiss on
 his forehead.
	"Go to sleep, my darling," she whispered.
	Ajit felt that he should say something, but all that came to his
lips was, "Thanks."
	She smiled down at him, patted his cheek and quietly left the
room. Ajit's mind whirled. Thoughts of guilt, remorse and shame swam
through his mind tempered with feelings of wonder, joy, delight and
rapture. Confusion reigned.
	"I shall consider it tomorrow," he thought. He slowly descended
into a somewhat restless sleep, punctuated by a slight smile on his lips.

	Ajit walked into the small dining room at nine-thirty. Jane and his
two cousins were finishing their breakfast. "My, my, somebody was certainly
tired, "Aunt Jane said cheerily.
	"Sorry," Ajit answered flushing slightly. Francine was nowhere to
be seen. For that he was thankful. He did not know how he should
feel. Confusion filled his being at the thought of Francine.
	He went to the side-board, helped himself to a healthy portion of
scrambled eggs, two pieces of ham and two slices of toast on which he
spread a heap of orange marmalade and sat down.
	"The swimming yesterday has really helped your appetite," Jane
said, nodding at his full plate.
	"Yes, Mum," he answered flushing more, and then without any
conscious volition, he added, "Where's Aunt Francine?"
	"Oh, she went into the city. Shopping, I think. I don't know when
she'll be back," Jane added. Devin and Chad finished their breakfast
without speaking. They, like Ajit, were generally quiet in the morning, a
natural condition. Besides, their mother and father, both early riser, did
most of the talking at the breakfast table.
	As the two excused themselves, Devin asked Ajit, "Do you want to
walk up to the lighthouse?"
	"Sure," he said, between mouthfuls of his breakfast.
	"You two boys don't forget you have a dental appointment this
afternoon. Be back by twelve," she said with some authority.
	"Ah, mummy, why did you have to make an appointment during
holidays?" whined Chad.
	"You know it's difficult to get an appointment, and besides you
want a bright smile don't you?" she chided with a little laugh.

	The three returned from their little jaunt precisely at twelve,
noon. They had all been taught punctuality by the little dictum: "It's
better to be five minutes early than one minute late." Devin and Chad led
the way and Ajit brought up the rear.
	Francine was sitting in the rattan chair, "Hello boys," she greeted
them gaily.
	"Hello Aunt Francine," Devin and Chad answered in tandem. Ajit was
too flustered to answer.
	Francine looked square at Ajit, cocked her head to the side and
articulated, rather precisely, "Hello, . . . .young man."
	"Hello, Aunt Francine," he blurted out and flushed scarlet. He was
suddenly and horribly self conscious. He glanced at his aunt who was busy
setting up a light buffet lunch on the side-board wondering whether she
could tell. Apparently not. His cousins as well had disappeared down the
hall to their bedroom.
	"Go and freshen up for lunch Ajit," Jane said, and then as an after
thought, "You know the boys and I won't be back until well after
five-ish. It would probably be too boring for you to accompany us and
Francine has said that she'll take you up the coast for some
sightseeing. Is that all right with you?"
	"Of course it is Jane. Ajit doesn't want to sit in a reeking
dentist's office all afternoon, Do you darling?" Francine stated. He had
been trapped.
	"Well, it's done then, hurry up Ajit and wash up," Jane stated.
	After the light lunch and after Jane and the boys had left, Ajit
turned on the television and sat on the rattan chair. He really didn't
think that he wanted to be alone with Francine, but then there was nothing
that he could do. Francine came from her room and stood in front of Ajit,
"Well, young man, do you want to go sightseeing?" she asked. Ajit noticed
that she had changed her morning dress and now wore a blue tube-top and
beige slacks.
	"That would be nice, " he answered looking down at the floor and
blushing. He had not been able to look Francine in the eye all morning.
	She knelt down in front of him, cupped his chin in her hand and
raised his head so that he was forced to look at her. He noticed that she,
too seemed slightly flushed. "Are you . . . . angry with me?" she asked
softly.
	"N. . . o," he stammered.
	"Did you not enjoy last night?" she asked in her silky voice.
	"No . . . I mean . . . yes. . . " he stammered, again his eyes
looked again at the floor. He was so confused. He began to tremble.
	"Are you ashamed?"
	"I . . . I don't know."
	"There's nothing to be ashamed about, you know." Again she raised
his face again so that his gaze met hers and added, "It was beautiful."
	Her eyes were soft, almost hypnotic. "She is beautiful he thought,
but . . . " Her closeness, her smell and the images of the previous night
caused him to tremble even more.
	A warm, knowing smile suffused her face. "My darling, was that the
first time?" she asked.
	"Yessss . . ."he acknowledged, and again dropped his head.
	"Oh, my sweet darling," she cooed and wrapped her arms around him,
his head in the hollow of her neck. She rocked him gently. "It was so
beautiful. . . soooo beautiful," she whispered in his ear as her hands
began to gently knead his back.
	Her breath against his ear had the same effect as the night
before. His trembling became almost uncontrollable. He could feel the soft
swell of her breasts against his chest. His mind whirled in conflicting
thoughts and seething emotions. Her hands continued to explored his back
and neck. Francine lightly kissed that most sensitive spot just below his
ear. His eyes snapped shut. The touch of her hot lips sent a delicious
spasm throughout his body. She lowered her hands to the small of his back
and gently pulled him towards her, off the chair so that he too was
kneeling. Not only her breasts, but he could now feel the her belly against
his. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth and traced the outline of his ear.
	Ajit issued a low groan and his hands which until then had been
hanging limp encircled her waist. It was not a conscious action, but one
came from some deep primal urge. Francine's hot moist tongue then
insinuated itself into his ear. This time Ajit's groan was more
audible. Some how the heat of her tongue and transferred its fiery message
to his groin. He became aware that his cock was swelling. Francine, too,
became aware of the obvious physical transformation and began to gently
move her hips from side to side. At the same time she began to lavish his
neck with light kisses punctuated with trailing her hot tongue in small
circles. Ajit's back involuntarily arched and he clasped Francine even
closer to him. Any negative thoughts that he had had were quickly being
supplanted by her passionate ministrations.
	Francine's lips traveled from his neck to his eyes, then his nose,
back to his neck, and to his chin again. He was breathless. His breathing
came in short gasps through his slightly opened mouth. Then her lips
covered his and her hot tongue darted into his mouth. The action was
electric. Never had he, even in his wildest dreams, imagined that a kiss
could feel like this! He opened his mouth further allowing her tongue to
explore all the recesses of his mouth, groaning all the while. Francine
pulled away. He opened his eyes. A brilliant smile suffused her face and
her eyes were misty pools. She slowly brought her parted lips to his,
gazing intently, even pleadingly he thought, into his eyes. This time the
tip of her tongue only barely touched his inner lip. His tongue tentatively
touched hers and at the touch her tongue retreated. He followed and their
two tongues danced within her mouth. The sensation was delicious. Their
erotic tongue dance brought
 moans, this time also from Francine. This fueled Ajit's already burning
fire.
	Suddenly, Francine disengaged herself. Ajit's eyes widened in
surprise. "What did I do wrong?" he asked himself.
	She smiled, reached down, seized the bottom of his jersey and
pulled it off, over his head. She again sat back and gazed at his
broadening lightly muscled teak colored torso punctuated by his dusky-brown
aureoles with their erect nipples, and at the base his inset navel. Ajit's
torso was hairless and satiny smooth. Francine reached out and with the
light touch of her fingertips began to trace some unknown pattern over his
torso. His breathing again deepened, sometimes in gasps as he watched her
fingers roam over his chest and abdomen. Francine bent over and with the
tip of her tongue traced the darkened circle and over the hardening
nipple. Ajit gulped when her lips covered his tit and sucked it lightly
into her mouth, her tongue frantically licking the nipple even in her
mouth. A kind of warm electricity suffused his being. His eyes closed and
his head was thrown back when she moved to the other nipple.
	She withdrew and he slowly opened his eyes in time to see her draw
the blue tube over her head, freeing her breasts. She sat there, hands in
her lap, regarding Ajit as his eyes riveted on those glorious orbs, yet
firm, milky white with bright pink centers and nipples the size of
raspberries. He glanced up into her eyes and noticed her self-assured
smile. He reached out and tentatively touched one of her breasts with his
fingertips. Francine slowly, deliberately closed her eyes. With a bit more
assurance he cupped one in his hands, then both of them. lightly he rolled
the two nipples between his thumb and forefinger. His action, the sight of
her breasts in his trembling hands sent galvanic shocks to his groin.
	Francine uttered a primal moan and her head began to rock slowly
from side to side. The effect that his hands had upon her stoked even
higher the fires of his growing passion. He was fully erect. He cupped his
hands under her right breast and lifted it slightly. He felt fueled by a
primal urge. Bending forward his tongue lightly licked the erect nipple. It
was strangely hard and soft at the same time. He sucked it lightly between
his lips and continued to lick it with his tongue.
	"Ohhh, . . . yes, yessss," came the deep throated reply. She
grasped his head and pressed it against her breast. For some minutes Ajit
explored with both his hands and mouth Francine's luxurious breasts. Her
body swayed under his erotic exploration as a cobra sways to the music of
the charmer. Sometimes her vocalizations were recognizable, most times they
were deep guttural moans. Then, breathlessly, she said, no she commanded
him to, "Stand up."
	As an automaton, completely in her control, he did her bidding. She
deftly untied the cord of his light cotton trousers, inserted her fingers
beneath the waistband of both his trousers and under briefs, manipulated
them over his bulging cock and drew them down to his ankles. In an
involuntarily move of modesty, Ajit cupped his hands over his distended
dick. Gently Francine pulled his hands away.
	"No, my darling, it's too beautiful to hide."
	The thought that his cock could be beautiful had never occurred to
Ajit. He observed his tumid extension as her fore finger gently touched the
slit opening. His cock jumped. She smiled and gently encircled the
throbbing scepter with her fingers and slightly squeezed. Again it jumped
in its confines. Slowly she moved her encircling fingers to the base and
back up towards the crown. His ample foreskin slid over his cockhead
creating a puckered extension. Rhythmically, her hand ascended and
descended. all the while her eyes darted from that delicious tool to Ajit's
face assessing her actions. The feeling of her hand on his cock sent Ajit's
being spiraling upward. His knees began to quiver, his whole body began to
sway and quickly he widened his stance so as not to topple.
	Francine then licked the swollen, purplish cockhead, bring an
explosive exhaling of breath from Ajit. She moved her lips down the whole
length, burying her nose in his cock hairs and inhaling their perfume. Her
retreating lips drew the foreskin back over the turgid head. Her tongue
darted out and lightly forced its way into that puckered sheath. She
glanced up at Ajit's face. His eyes were closed.
	"Watch me, my darling, watch me," she commanded. Ajit opened his
eyes and watched as again her tongue insinuated itself into the wrinkled
opening, gently pushing it back beyond the flaring crown. He watched has
her tongue circled his cockhead sending one luscious sensation after
another throughout his whole being. Faster and faster she circled his
cockhead, which brought moan after moan from his lips. Then she plunged his
cock deep down her throat. The sensation was too much.
	"Arghhhh . . . "exploded from his lips, his eyes involuntarily
snapped shut. Then he felt a hand cup, and then manipulate his balls while
another slowly ran up and down the inside of his thigh. His knees began to
buckle and the trembling that had first come to him returned with shocking
vigor. Without removing his cock from her pistoning mouth, Francine
encircled Ajit's hips, cupped his firm ass cheeks in her hands and crawled
backwards, gently forcing Ajit to stumble with her.
	She removed her mouth from his cock and said gently, "Lay down." He
did, and she crawled between his splayed legs, lifting his knees and again
lowered her mouth on his aching, bobbing cock. Suddenly she lifted her
mouth from his cock and just as suddenly began to lick his lightly haired
balls. The sensation rocketed Ajit's hips off the floor as his heels dug in
to suspend him. She moved back to his cock and he relaxed. But she had
replaced her tongue with palpitating fingers on his ball sack. His head
rolled from side to side on that erotic roller coaster. Abruptly her
palpitating fingers moved downward to that sensitive area just behind the
hanging balls and lightly moved about. Her mouth pistoned and twisted up
and down the shaft of his cock. He groaned uncontrollably. Her fingers
began to move even farther downwards, stopping at the tightly puckered
private opening. She lightly drew her nails back and forth over that tense
sphincter.
	"What are you doing?" he gasped.
	She lifted her mouth from his cocking with a popping sound. "Relax
. . . . . doesn't it feel good?" she asked.
	"Yes, . . . . but . . ."
	"Between two people who are making love nothing is wrong unless it
causes pain," she interrupted. Her hand kept up the light scratching touch
while the other replaced her mouth on his cock. "Do you like how I make you
feel? she asked.
	"Oh, yes!"
	"Do you like the feel of my mouth and hands on your cock Ajit?"
	"Yes. . ."
	"Do you like the feel of my fingers on your ass-hole?"
	"I think so," came breathlessly.
	"You know the anus is the second most sensitive area on a man's
body."
	"Oh?"
	She smiled. "My darling, when you licked my nipples, it was
delicious, it sent shock waves through me. And the feel of your cock in my
mouth is indescribable."
	"Oh," was repeated weakly.
	"Now my sweet darling, we are going to fly together," she said,
standing up between his legs. She unzipped her slacks, pushed them down
over her flaring hips to her ankles. She was wearing the briefest pair of
lacy underwear which also followed her slacks. She stepped out of these
impediments and stood facing Ajit. He noticed that her reddish-blond hair
did not match the dark brown "V" at the the base of her belly. His eyes
roamed over her body. Francine's hands began to fondle her breasts as she
returned his gaze. One hand moved to her belly and her middle finger parted
her cunt hairs and disappeared into its upper slit and began to move. A
strange perfume filled the room.
	"Do you like to watch me," she asked huskily as she continued to
stimulate herself.
	"Yessss," came an almost inaudible reply.
	"Do you like to watch me play with my hot pussy?" Her moist lips
parted and her tongue laved their surface.
	"Oh, yes!"
	"I like to watch you too, my darling," she cooed. "I would like to
watch you play with your self. Would you do that for me?"
	"Yessss. . . ." came the answer and Ajit moved his hand to his
throbbing cock and began to slowly masturbate.
	"Oh, yessss . . . I like to watch your hand around that dark hard
cock of yours. That beautiful cock," then she added, "Can I play with your
cock again?"
	He nodded his assent, he could not speak. The whole carnal
situation and led him into areas he could have never imagined. His volition
was somehow completely wrapped up in his cock and its telegraphing
sensations. This time she stepped over his thigh and knelt beside him,
taking his cock in her hand and again began to deftly manipulate it. He
began to groan again.
	"Would you like to play with me too, darling," she asked
breathlessly.
	"Okay," placing his hand on her breast.
	"No, darling, here," she said, taking his hand and placing it over
her cunt. Tentatively, he felt its form. He was aware of the silky hairs
and the incredible heat. Then hesitantly he felt the slit and slipped a
finger between the torrid lips. He felt a moistness and moved his finger to
the lower region where he wormed his finger into its deep recesses, then
out again and upwards to where he felt a little button.
	"Oh, yessss. . . there. . . there," Francine declared
breathlessly. "It feels so good."
	He began to lightly massage that little button, sending spasms
through Francine. He moved down again to that deep, sensuous tunnel. Now,
instead of just being moist, it was flooded with a hot, silky
fluid. Somehow, the reaction that he was engendering in Francine fueled his
already uncontrollable passion even more.
	"Oh, God. . . " she said. Quickly stood and straddled his
hips. Lowering herself, she grasped his cock and guided it into her
luxurious opening. Then, in one quick movement she impaled herself
completely.
	"Arghhhh . . . . " exploded from both their lips.
	If the sensation that Ajit had experienced when she first took his
cock into her mouth was beyond description, the feeling of her hot, moist
cunt encircling his shaft, not only left him speechless but devoid of any
conscious thought. A primal urge, a savage joy, a fundamental longing that
sprung from the very core of his being now held sway.
	Slowly she began to flex her hips in concert with his involuntary
and natural thrusting.
	"Oh, your cock feels soooo good." she crooned. "Do you like how
your cock feels in my pussy?"
	He nodded his head.
	"Tell me my darling Ajit, tell me how it feels."
	"It feels good. . . . . I like the feel of my cock going in and out
of your . . . . pussy," he blurted out. The lascivious experience then over
took even his speech. Such words like 'cock,' 'pussy,' 'cunt' and,
certainly 'fuck' were words he knew, but had only used in the presence of
other boys his own age. Never, in front of a woman before.
	"Your cunt feel so hot, so juicy. I want to fuck your cunt hard,"
he blurted out.
	"Oh, yessss, fuck me, fuck me hard," she hissed.
	He began to thrust upward harder and harder, burying his cock deep
into her cunt. He was quickly approaching the pinnacle. "Oh, fuck you
. . . . fuck you . . . . . fuck your cunt," he uttered as his pistoning
hips lurched off the floor, bucking Francine.
	"Harder . . . harder . . . shove that cock all the way in me," she
demanded, sweat coursing down her face and body, eyes rolling upward.
	"Oh, yes . . . OH, YESSSS . . . . "
	"OHHH, YESSSS," the last a scream as he exploded, bathing her
insides with his lustral cream, and collapsed back on the floor bathed in
sweat. He could feel his still swollen cock being massaged by some unseen
muscle. He looked up into Francine's face. It was different, as if she had
been transported (for indeed she had been) and a most beautiful smile
covered her face.
	"My darling, that was glorious," she stated as she lifted herself
off Ajit's intruding member, lay beside him, placed her head upon his chest
and threw her arm over his torso. He ran his fingers through her hair and
reveled in what had happened. And, then without volition, he fell
asleep. His deep even breathing brought a satisfied smile to Francine. It
was so infrequent that a first time encounter brought her satisfaction.
	He woke an hour later, finding a throw covering his body, he sat up
and looked around just as Francine emerged from the hallway. She wore a
fresh, periwinkle blue dress which complimented her eyes.
	"You'd better take a shower and get dressed. Don't forget, we're
suppose to go sightseeing," she stated, not without humor.
	He stood up, letting the throw fall. To hold it would have been
falsely modest after their coupling. He smiled at Francine and said, tongue
in cheek, "I thought we had been sightseeing."
	"Yes," she said with a wink, "there are all kinds of natural
wonders, aren't there," as her eyes trailed up and down his body.
	He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. Their intimate coupling
had brought a kind of familiarity that he had not known before. But he was
proud of what had happened. He turned and languidly walked to the shower.
	Later they did drive up the coast for a short distance, and when
they returned they saw that Jane and the boys had arrived earlier. Jane
greeted them and informed Francine that there had been a long distance call
for her. The call had been from New York, Francine had been cast in a role
and had to leave immediately.
	Ajit was both relieved and a little distressed. Francine had
unlocked a door. What lay beyond had only been hinted. Ajit was yet a bit
too young to explore that area alone. He would have to wait.

	After the English holidays, Ajit flew back to New Delhi and to his
schooling. It had been decided by Uncle James, that it would probably be
the best for Ajit to return to New Delhi and to finish his secondary
education there in familiar surroundings. Lalita's eldest sister, Mani had
been contacted and she agreed to temporarily leave Colombo and oversee Ajit
in New Delhi. Mani, who had three children grown and married, was Ajit's
favorite aunt on his mother's side of the family. Uncle Raj's business
frequently took him to New Delhi, so the transfer of his beloved Mani
there, posed only a little inconvenience. Besides, he and William were not
only brothers-in-law, but had become good friend as well, so to help Ajit
presented no dilemma at all.
	Mani was one of those people who always looked on the bright side,
although to incur her anger, which could be considerable, was to be
avoided. Ajit remembered how she would prepare his favorite dishes when he
visited her home, and how she would sit and intently listen to any problems
that he, as a young boy, might have. She was like a second mother and a
perfect choice to care for and to oversee Ajit's last years of
schooling. Ajit would stay at his parent's home, now his, a condo rather
near the school which he attended.
	The death of his parents was still a very real and palpable
experience, but the holidays in England, visiting his cousins, and being
removed from New Delhi had dulled the raw pain. Tears would still
uncontrollably fill his eyes, but nowhere near as often as during that
first month. The first day back was the hardest, but with Aunt Mani there,
bustling about, bantering as only she could do, helped to make the
transition.
	Ajit returned to school, successfully wrote his postponed exams,
and plunged into his school work with more vigor and direction than he had
done before. Even his teachers and the head master had noted to Mani that
he seemed to be applying himself with more diligence, purpose than before.
	"Of course he is. He's been forced to grow up very rapidly," Mani
answered displaying that natural intelligence that often seems to vanish
with higher education.
	Ajit's academic concentration was not one-sided, merely more
focused. He still associated with his 'old friends,' tended to be a bit
messy where his room was concerned, and continued to revel in sports. In
other words, he seemed to be a natural fifteen year old. Saturdays would
find him playing impromptu football (soccer) in the park near his home.
	Upon his return home, Mani would scold mockingly, "Do you always
have to find the mud or the dirtiest part of the field?"
	"Now Auntie, what would you do if I got nothing dirty?" he would
reply, grinning and planting a kiss on her cheek.
	"Don't try to sugar me," came her laughing retort as she gave him a
swat. He dodged her swing, laughing.
	Ajit resolved to join the school's swim team. He had always liked
swimming, so he decided that this would be the sport in which he would
concentrate. He was good, and his lengthening limbs and lean muscles made
him a natural. Every afternoon, after his classes, the team practiced for
two hours: set after set of four laps of the different strokes, each
punctuated by ten laps of free-style. After the practices Ajit would be
physically exhausted, but a good shower, a half hour nap and one of Mani's
delicious meals revived his flagging energy. One afternoon, after a
particularly strenuous workout, Ajit drug himself out of the pool and
slowly walked back to the locker-room.
	"What's the matter, Ajit," the coach asked jokingly, noting his
slowness, "out of shape?"
	"No, sir. My legs are a little sore today."
	"I think you were pushing too hard. Take a good shower and I'll
have Bala give you a rub-down. That will relax your muscles and take the
pain away."
	"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Ajit walked to his locker, stripped off
his practice suit, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to the
showers. He loved to stand in the hot showers, they seemed to drain away
some of his fatigue. That day he stood under their reviving cascade longer
than usual. All of his team mates had finished and were dressing when he
walked to the training room, towel wrapped and still dripping.
	The 'Training Room' was off the hall that led from the lockers to
the pool area. In it was an old 'whirl-pool' bath, weights, a small desk
and a screened alcove with a massage table and a small cabinet for various
supplies needed to maintain the physical well being of the swimmers.
	Bala, the 'trainer,' was sitting at the desk going through a file
of forms. He was twenty-eight, six feet tall, black curly hair, light
mahogany skin and well muscled. He always wore white ducks and a white
singlet. His full-time position was in the physiotherapy department of a
local hospital. This was his second, part-time position. He glanced up as
Ajit came into the room.
	"Hello, Ajit. Coach said you'd be in. What's the problem?"
	"I guess I pushed too hard today, sir. My legs are a bit sore."
	"Let's see what we can do for that," Bala said as he stood and
folded back part of the screen leading to the alcove. "Jump up here,"
indicating the long and narrow cushioned table, "and lay on your stomach."
	Ajit followed his directions and adjusted his towel-wrap as it had
loosened when he twisted to lie down on the table. Almost immediately he
felt something liquid being dribbled on his back followed by Bala's hands
beginning to knead his shoulder muscles. The probing fingers brought light
twinges of pain and he tensed-up.
	"Relax or this won't do any good!"
	"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," replied Ajit and he willed himself to
relax.
	Soon the massaging hands began to accomplish their purpose and
little by little the muscles of his upper and lower back began suffuse a
warmth that was almost hypnotic. Ajit then felt the warming liquid being
trickled down his legs and Bala began to massage the sore calves and lower
legs. He was nearly asleep when Bala moved to his aching thighs. Ajit again
tensed.
	"Relax!"
	"Sorry," Ajit whispered. He felt Bala's long fingers expertly knead
and probe the aching muscles into warm relaxation. More liquid was poured
on his thighs and Ajit could feel the spread fingers and full palms of
Bala, first circling and then moving from his knees up the outside of his
thighs to his hips. Again the long sweeping motion, but this time a little
towards the inside of his thighs. He could feel Bala's extended thumbs
sweeping the center as well as his towel being inched upward. And, again
the long sweeping motion now had moved to the inside of his thighs and as
the approached his buttocks, the thumbs exerted a bit more pressure before
palms, fingers and thumbs swung to the outside. His towel was now merely
resting across the upper part of his buttocks. The last motion was somewhat
disconcerting as Ajit thought that the rotation of the hands were nearing
his asshole. Three or four more times this action was completed, each time
a little
 farther up, a little deeper in until Ajit was sure that the splayed thumbs
would surely touch his puckered anus.
	Then he could feel Bala shift his stance. Ajit breathed a sigh of
relief. He was imagining too much. Then the towel which covered most of his
buttocks was flipped away. Ajit gasped.
	"Relax!!"
	Ajit could feel the warming liquid crisscrossing his buttocks and a
little dribbling down the cleft. The latter sensation made him shiver. The
oil was spread over his buttocks and Bala's hands grasped the sides of
Ajit's narrow hips for support while the thumbs began to probe the deep
muscles. The initial shock wore off and Ajit began to revel in the
sensation. Bala placed one of his thumbs in the middle of Ajit's back,
exerted some pressure and drug it downward to the point where the buttocks
began to cleave. Bala performed this technique two more times and then
again shifted his stance to where he was facing Ajit's feet. Bala placed
his index and middle finger on either side of the spinal ridge and traced
the same path as his thumb had done. However, the touch was much lighter
and as it crossed that flat triangular area pointing to the cleft, the
index finger lifted off Ajit's skin and the middle finger insinuated itself
about an inch into the cleft.
 A second time, the same path but a little deeper into that dark warm
crease. Ajit felt a confused stimulation such as he had felt that night
when Francine sucked his cock. A third time down that path, the finger
stopping just short of his sensitive sphincter. Ajit's mind was swimming
and he became aware of a swelling at the base of his stomach. A fourth time
and the finger moved over, then slowly back and forth over his
asshole. Ajit's now hard cock jumped and he voluntarily clenched his
buttocks. The finger forced itself in slightly against the closed, puckered
opening before it was removed. A sound, something between a gasp and a
groan escaped from Ajit's mouth.
	"Turn on your back!" ordered Bala, matter-of-factly.
	"What?" came Ajit's reply. He couldn't. It would be too
embarrassing. He had a roaring hard-on!
	"I said, Turn on your back!'"
	Ajit dutifully and reluctantly complied, grasping the towel and
trying to hide the source of his embarrassment.
	"Put your hands behind your head." Bala ordered with
authority. And, Ajit again obeyed. For the second time Bala flicked the
towel off of Ajit's body, exposing that upstanding, self-proud cock. Ajit,
involuntarily brought his hands down to cover himself, but Bala intercepted
them and gently but firmly placed them behind his head. Then he wrapped one
of his oily hands around the rigid pole and began to move it up and down
the whole length. His other hands began to lightly fondle Ajit's balls.
	The sensations of having his cock manipulated in such an expert
manner took precedence over his confusion caused by, "Mr. Bala jacking me
off . . . he's a man!" Bala's hand lightly moved all the way down the
throbbing shaft, squeezed it slightly and then moved upwards dragging the
foreskin over the purplish pulsating cockhead. Slowly, lightly at first,
then faster and stronger the enfolding fingers performed their lascivious
dance. At the same time the hand that fondled his ball sack moved downward
between Ajit's thighs, one finger rubbed against his asshole. He groaned
and without conscious volition, involuntarily spread his legs. The
pistoning of his cock slowed its rhythm but the exciting sensation
remained. The finger at his asshole began to slowly and lightly circle that
puckered opening, then more rapidly and with more pressure. Ajit's senses
swam in that luxurious pool of super sensitization, every fiber
pulsing. Then slowly but surely the finger
 pushed passed the first ring just as the pistoning hand increased its
pressure and cadence. Ajit wanted to squeeze closed his sphincter but the
sensations would not allow it. Then the offending finger insinuated itself
more and the second ring gave way and the digit entered that hidden private
recess.
	"Arghhhh. . . " escaped from his mouth.
	"Relax, it's okay . . . .enjoy it . . . ," whispered Bala, as he
continued to expertly vary the pressure of his fingers 'round the hard
cock. His fucking finger began to slowly move in and out of Ajit's ass in
consort with the cock pounding hand, a duet. Ajit began to torque his body,
not from any discomfort, but from the incredible sensations that he was
experiencing. He began to mount the pinnacle. And, as he did, the knowing
hand on his cock increased its speed up and down. Simultaneously, the
fucking finger likewise increased it's speed as it plunged in and out of
the now relaxed, sensually charged hole. Ajit planted his heels and arched
off the table. From his purplish cockhead shot his lustral cum, high in the
air. His ass spasmed around the fucking finger. From deep in his throat
came a long primal groan as he raised his hips even higher. Then collapsed
. . . .
	Bala carefully withdrew his finger from Ajit's ass and slowly
release his fingers from 'round the still turgid cock. He reached for
Ajit's towel and carefully and gently wiped the pearly drops of Ajit's
chest and face. Then he took the towel and gently forcing apart his legs,
wiped the excess oil from around the now re-puckered hole. He took a clean
towel, unfolded it and carefully draped it over Ajit's middle, covering its
now drooping dick. All the time Ajit watched, and wondered why he could
receive almost the same sensations from a man as he had from Francine.
	"When you're completely relaxed, go take a shower again, wash the
oil off your body," Bala said, patting Ajit's shoulder as he left the
alcove.
	Later, after showering, dressing, collecting his books, Ajit exited
the school. A couple of his friends, Kumar and Steven, were standing around
waiting for their parents to collect them.
	"How come you're so late?" asked Kumar.
	"Muscle strain. . . coach wanted me to get a rub down." The less
said the better.
	"So you got one of Bala's specials?" Steven asked, winking.
	"What do you mean?" Ajit asked frowning in mock embarrassment, "I
just got a rub-down."
	"Sure . . . " said Kumar who then made a jacking motion at crotch
level. The two friends laughed uproariously.
	Ajit flushed turned onto the the sidewalk and quickly walked the
short distance home. He was confused and a little embarrassed.
	Later, he found that Bala had given that same 'special massage' to
nearly every member of the swim team. However, strangely enough only one to
a customer.