The Law of Jungle Ch. 14

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College Student

Nala Sopara, a place far away from the center and main place of Mumbai, located on Mumbai’s Western line, sandwiched between Vasai and Virar in a corner near the sea was once a neglected and deserted place and which was the abode of fishermen only. In course of time, people of low income and the middle-class group started building their houses at Nala Sopara. But it was a suitable place for people coming from other states and had a huge migrant population. The typical chawl and slum population had taken over the place by migration as a lot of slums had emerged near the sea. Muthu Swami was 23 years old young man and he was living in this slum area of Nala Sopara. He was born in a rural place of Tamil Nadu state of India and at the age of 8 years, he became an orphan and started begging for his food. He had no idea how he had come to Mumbai 15 years before as he was a small boy of 8 years, he only remembered he was begging inside a train and reached Mumbai.

Now, at the age of 23 years, he was selling green coconuts for his livelihood. Thank God! He was a bachelor and his income was sufficient for his survival in a big metro city like Mumbai. He had a typical south Indian feature, the color of his skin was black like nigger, he was tall with sharp features in his face, a typical thick south Indian mustache in his upper lip but he was beardless, he had long hairs on his head, he was not much thinner rather he had a strong muscular feature on his chest, hands, and legs as he would walk on foot for miles and miles distance. He was a narialwala (Green coconut vendor), fondly he was called by everybody as Muthu Narialwala.

He would wear his typical south Indian outfit, a lungi (Lungi is a men’s skirt usually tied around the lower waist below the navel. It is popular in south India). But his Lungi would be tucked-up in his waist in typical south Indian style( Folded above knees and tucked up in waist). The everyday morning he would start from the slum by carrying a heavy basket of a green coconut on his head along with a billhook (A tool having a sickle-shaped blade with a sharp inner edge, used for slicing off green coconut). He would travel in local trains and would reach Juhu beach. His main target of customers would be the visitors of sea beach, particularly the foreigners staying in nearby big hotels near Juhu beach.

Today, Muthu was wandering in the Juhu beach area with the heavy basket of green coconuts on his head. In the clammy weather of Mumbai, customers for the cool, refreshing milk of his coconuts were usually plentiful as he sold to some visitors of the beach. He kept moving north, from one area to the next and each was more deserted than the last. He plodded down the road that ran by the shore and reached near the shore adjunct to the big hotel ‘Sun N Sand’ and stood near the watchman of the hotel as he could not proceed ahead because it was the private area. Unlike other days, today there were few foreigners, Muthu was angry because it was a bad day for him. Luckily, one American couple came and asked for green coconuts. He picked out and carefully inspected two green coconuts which contained much water and then sliced off those with his billhook. But Muthu was not satisfied with his sales. The sun was fierce, and soon he was dripping with perspiration. He turned his way towards the other part of the hotel, hoping to get some more visitors or foreigners in that part. The tar sizzled and shimmered and squelched under his thick leather sandals. The road was deserted with large bungalows set well back, fronting the sea.

He noticed a narrow lane that led off the main road towards the sea. An unlocked gate swung open across the driveway that swept around a beautiful cabin house on the beach, surrounded by a wide fence and greenery with trees and a small garden inside. He stepped through the gate and walked down the drive. Evidently, the cabin house belonged to a millionaire. It was a big, rambling structure, with white adobe walls. It sprawled across in the middle with a broad sundeck. A lush garden swept from the house down to the beach which was enclosed on one side by a natural outcrop of rock and the other by a barbed-wire fence. The garden was deserted and the house was quiet.

The small door to the back of the house was open and Muthu could see through the backdoor the beating of waves of the sea approximately 100 meters away from him where he was standing. The back door was around 40 meters away from where he was standing. There was a large, brightly colored beach umbrella which was placed just near the small back door of the house, i.e.out of the back door, on the sand of the beach. There was also a table and a long deck chair with an adjustable back. Then he realized that he was a trespasser inside the area of the house. Then he thought it would be better for him to exist through the backdoor towards the beach before any occupant of the house sees him. Muthu was about to walk across the lawn to the beach when he saw a figure emerging from the waves.

He squinted Burdur Escort through the shimmering haze. Ashmita waded out of the seawater and crossed the beach towards the back entrance of the house. It was a young woman. Muthu sucked in his breath sharply when he saw her. He slid back behind some fronds and tucked his basket load behind the luxuriant bushes. He snuggled into the shrubbery and peered onto the beach.

When Ashmita came towards back entry from the sea, Muthu could see her clearly, she must be in her forties but looked like a young woman of 25 years. She was sensational. She was dressed in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit. The brassiere was minuscule, thin threads over her shoulders and across her back. In front, they swept over the swell of her superb breasts and flared into Band-Aid-sized strips over her nipples. Her bikini panties were outrageous, little more than a G-string. Twin strings circled her hips and supported a narrow strip that dipped between her thighs. She wore it very low, well below her navel, just above her pubis. It barely covered her crotch.

The sun glittered on her wet body. She came near to the back door and without entering the house, she moved towards the large umbrella and table and deck chair under it. She picked up a towel from the table and mopped her face and body. She turned around and Muthu saw that her bikini panties had no back; the strip of cloth became a thin strand that ran between her naked buttocks. As he watched, the woman shook her head, her hands lifting to uncoil her dark hair from the nape of her neck. It tumbled to her waist.

Ashmita dropped the towel on the circular table by the umbrella and turned around again. The coconut vendor gaped. She was absolutely stunning. She was of medium height, with a fair, completely flawless complexion, she had a high-cheekbone, oval face with an exquisite jaw, and a fine, straight nose. Her eyes were lovely, shaped like almonds, and rimmed with kohl. Her mouth was sexy and she had perfect, even teeth. Her neck was long and elegant and led smoothly to full, firm, high breasts that were like succulent fruit and formed a deep and inviting cleavage. She wore a thin gold chain and a mangal sutra around her neck.

Ohh! Then this woman was married. Her belly was flat and firm, the legs lovely and shapely with no saddlebags or love handles. Her hips flared, and her waist was narrow, the arms and legs smoothly turned, the ankles and wrists slim, the feet and hands long and elegant.

The coconut vendor gaped. She was the loveliest creature he had ever seen, just like a film star. His penis swelled in his lungi, his wraparound loincloth, and he felt a stiff clamp in his belly and balls. He ached to fuck her. A large tote bag lay by the chair under the umbrella. Ashmita bent to unzip it and her breasts swung forward. She pulled out a hairbrush and ran it through her hair, then coiled it high on her head. As she lifted her arms, her breasts rose in her brassiere. She shrugged it off. Her breasts were large and heavy, with long nipples. She massaged them absently, and then pulled down her panties. The man gaped at the neatly trimmed dark delta framing her cunt.

Ashmita bent and rummaged in the bag again and her lovely breasts swung free. She straightened with a bottle of lotion in her hand. She flipped up the spout of the bottle and poured out lotion into her hand and began to smear her body with it. Muthu watched her rub cream into her breasts, squeezing and fondling them sensuously. She took more cream and massaged it into her belly and buttocks and legs, even the insides of her thighs. Her body glistened, she lay down on the chair and put on a pair of dark shades. From where he stood, the coconut vendor had an unobstructed view of her.

“Ashmita!” A man’s voice called from the house behind him.

The coconut vendor turned his head and saw a muscular grey-haired old man trotting down the path to the beach. He was clad only in a pair of swimming trunks. The coconut vendor noticed his superb physique, the sculpted musculature. He jogged down to the beach.

“Well, hello, lover boy,” Ashmita smiled, turning her face and holding out her hand.

“Hey. Did you have a good swim?” asked the old man.

“Lovely, “replied Ashmita.

“Want to fuck, a threesome, your daughter wants you to join with us?” asked Bhashkar.

“Horny again? My God! You two are fucking day and night like crazy lovers? You are really a stud at this age!” exclaimed Ashmita.

“For you, stud, always,” Bhashkar laughed.

Muthu, the poor coconut vendor was listening to their conversation with his bewildered eyes. How could these rich people use such raw and obscene words openly without any shame and hesitation? He wondered.

Then he heard the old man laugh, “Your daughter feels too much horny and waiting for me to fuck her. Then, let me fuck her, I will tell Arpita that you are not joining with us.”

“Ohhh, come on dear, you both enjoy, now let me enjoy the sight of Burdur Escort Bayan sea waves,” she smiled.

Muthu apprehended that a fucking session would start now somewhere in the house with another woman. He had seen porn videos but watching a live fucking comes once in a while. He had also a curiosity to see the other woman.

Then Muthu heard the old man saying,” Not dressed like that Ashmita, you shouldn’t. You have exposed your body completely. Don’t you know it is a public beach behind this cabin?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’ll put something on,” she replied.

“You’d better. And I want you to cover up your body with a towel. Don’t want any of those drunken young men wandering on the beach raping you for that gorgeous body of yours,” the old man said.

The woman chuckled, “Don’t worry my dear husband! Nobody is going to rape me. You people are nearby and if I scream, definitely you will hear,” she smiled.

“I’m all yours, babe, all yours. Then enjoy yourself alone but don’t be too long. In the meantime, let me satisfy your daughter,” said the old man and left from there.

Muthu was very much confused; he concluded that this woman was the wife of this old man. Then who were mother and daughter? He decided to follow the old man and leave this woman for a while. There were dense shrubs of flower plants near the sundeck where Muthu hid for a while. Then Muthu climbed and crawled and peeped above. There was a veranda ahead which was closed from two sides with 4 feet walls but opened in the front from where Muthu was peeping. Then he saw them. Muthu set himself in such a position that he could see them clearly but they could not see him from the top. Arpita lay on her back on the cool stone floor of the veranda, her white body heaving, and writhing, glistening with sweat. Muthu’s heart started beating as he had never seen a white naked body of such a young girl who must not be more than 20 years he assumed.

“What’s about mom?”Muthu heard the sweet voice of the girl asking the old man.

“She is enjoying the sea,” the old man replied coolly to the girl.

“What I feel, nowadays, Mom is not interested in fucking. She has reached a saturated point after getting fucked by you initially in the jungle and then continuously for another three years,” said Arpita.

“No, dear, that is not the case. We should thank her that she has given us scope to enjoy with each other privately because it is our honeymoon,” replied Bhashkar.

Muthu was very much confused and thought if this young girl was the daughter of that woman and that woman was the wife of this old man then how could this old man and this young girl lie down naked and embraced each other? Then he answered himself that these rich and aristocratic people were highly corrupted in sex and moral value and definitely, this girl was this old man’s stepdaughter. The old man must be fucking both mother and daughter in this luxurious cabin on the sea beach.

But at the next moment, Muthu was surprised to find the grey-haired old man bending over her, between her splayed knees, on his outstretched arms and knees, his head bent, his hips swinging powerfully. Muthu was surprised at the measured cadence of his strokes. He was in full control of himself, and evidently not without some previous sexual experience. Muthu watched with rising excitement as the old man fucked the young girl unhurriedly. His buttocks bobbed, flexing and unflexing rhythmically, his hips moving steadily. The girl moaned and gasped, and Muthu bit his lower lip, frowning with tension, breathing heavily through flared nostrils as the poor Narialwala was feeling sexual tension inside him. Arpita’s head whipped from side to side and she clenched his buttocks and lifted her legs even higher.

Now Muthu could see the old man’s long and thick penis as it appeared and disappeared into the young girl’s cunt, and she was thrilled at its size. She moaned and whimpered, squeezing her big, swollen breasts erotically, calling obscenely to the old man to fuck her harder, to shove it all in, to give her his cock. After several minutes, Bhashkar slid out of her and flipped her over onto her front, on all fours before him. Arpita stared at his cock with mounting lust. She bit her lip as Muthu watched him squeeze it into the young girl’s cunt again and begin to fuck her rapidly, holding her hips and jerking her body swiftly back and forth in time to his own thrusts.

Arpita’s cries rent the air, loud and lewd and now Bhashkar was gasping, his grey-haired head flung back, his hips swinging violently back and forth, his balls slapping against her buttocks. His penis glistened and gleamed as it was pistoned in and out of her cunt, going faster and faster till he was ramming her masterfully. Beneath him, Arpita gasped and cried out, her face contorting and twisting with joy. Her heavy breasts swung and jiggled and she crushed them feverishly as he pounded untiringly in and out of her cunt. Faster and faster he went, ramming and reaming Escort Burdur into her and she came violently, gasping and crying out.

He kept moving strongly and then Muthu heard his panting, “Arpitttaaaa, I can’t control myself, ohhhhhhhhh, I am going to come.”

Then Muthu heard the voice of the girl, “Yesss, come inside me.”

What’s a foolish girl she was Muthu thought, how could she allow this old man to come inside her without a rubber? And this old man was really a bastard; he would impregnate his stepdaughter. Muthu was brooding over all these things when he saw the old man raise his hips high then lowered with a jerk and shake his cock rapidly before lying still above the girl. Muthu knew that the old man had orgasmed, must be spraying her body with a heavy shower of jizz. Muthu closely observed between the legs of the girl where the cock of the old man was still inside her and Muthu could see the ticker tape on her thighs which were streaming down towards the joint of her thighs. Muthu’s hard cock was on verge of cumming but he controlled himself. Muthu watched the young girl moan happily and begin to scoop his gunk between her thighs on her finger and swallow it.

Muthu then heard the old man saying, “Arpita, let us go to the bedroom and have an afternoon nap.”

Muthu watched them going inside the house and knew that now both would be sleeping for a while.

On the other hand, Ashmita was sitting on the deck chair; she adjusted the back and stretched her two legs on the table. Not a single person was on that part of the beach as it was not like a public beach, rather it was like a secluded and private beach. A lot of thoughts were coming to her mind and she closed her eyes. Only having the big cock of Bhashkar inside her pussy was enough! No doubt, Bhashkar was a stud, and physically she was satisfied with him but mentally? Was this all a woman wanted? Jabbing a cock between her legs! This was a routine fucking but where was the sensation? Where was the newness? For this only, she switched over from her own husband late Debasish to his best friend late Dipankar in the jungle. Then she switched over from Dipankar to his father Bhashkar, who was then his uncle-in-law or like her father-in-law who at present was her husband.

But she still wanted some newness. In absence of which, of late she was lacking sexual sensation. Ashmita wanted some kinds of new thrill, some kind of adventure, and some kind of new sensation in her sex life. Ashmita envied her husband Bhashkar who even at this old age was enjoying newness and new thrills by fucking her own young daughter Arpita. He was a lucky bastard but what’s about her? Then her memory traveled to the past, how she had enjoyed her sex with a man belonging to the low class, the gardener Ramu near the swimming pool. She remembered how her feet slipped accidentally while she was peeing and she fell into shrubs where Ramu was working and the situation arose in such a way that she ended up fucking Ramu.

In the same afternoon, again she took Ramu to her bedroom and fucked with him. Did she enjoy her fucking with a low-class man? Yes, she enjoyed it and now, Ramu was a servant in her household and it was a risky affair to be fucked by him again. But she could go for an unknown low-class man for newness, for a thrill, and for a new sensation. Yes, she would like to be fucked by all low-class people because these poor men were always deprived of fucking a fair colored rich, educated, fashionable, and aristocratic lady like her.

The memory of that long hot afternoon of glorious sex with Ramu stirred her libido. Beneath the umbrella, Ashmita closed her eyes and slipped into an erotic daydream. Her nipples stiffened as a breeze from the sea plucked at them. A thick river of sweat trickled sexily through the valley between her breasts. Ashmita’s lips parted. Slowly, she drew her hands up over her thighs and a firm belly to her breasts. She fondled them, and they swelled and grew turgid. Her pulse began to quicken.

When Bhashkar and Arpita entered the house, Muthu, the coconut vendor’s attention was turned back to the woman near the back gate. His excitement was mounting. The woman was unattended, easy prey. He would hide amongst the garden bushes, amongst the flower plants near her so that he could watch her naked body from close. Muthu grinned wolfishly. He waited for a minute to make sure the old man wasn’t coming out of the house. Then he rushed towards the woman outside of the back entry.

Ashmita squeezed the fleshy mounds together, rubbing and rolling the hard nipples under her palms. Her elegant fingers pincered her nipples, kneading and tweaking and plucking at them, and she bit her lower lip as a sudden jolt of electric lust flickered through her loins and breasts. Her legs split apart and she felt the first, delicious dewdrop of cunt-juice ooze between her thighs. The coconut vendor gasped softly as he realized what she was doing. Ashmita slid a finger down her crack, parting her cunt-lips gently with one hand, the other still on her nipples. Her finger curved into her cunt. She arched her back slowly, in exquisite delight, and slid her finger in deeper, to the knuckle, feeling the moist heat of her cunt and the hard tongue of her clitoris. She began to masturbate slowly.

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