My Indian Daddie

I should talk about the time I went to India that one summer. It was both terrible & a very unique experience. Much stuffs happened, but I'll tell those other stories in due time. So I was staying with a close friend who paid for my air ticket & provided me with a place to stay, we stayed in this cement home. You could tell his dad was well paid, his home didn't have tarps & junk s**ttered about. I met his dad at the front gate, very dark skinned, greying hair, wrinkled face. Afterwards I met his servant who was this 19 year old petite lady with a ponytail, always wearing a blue sari, I'll talk about her sometime is you want to hear that story. So we do what we do, hang out, talk, his son acting as interpreter in between. I notice his wife was nowhere to be seen, I didn't question it with either the dad or his son. The father, this late 50 year old was looking at me, constantly. I can't tell you if I'm an expert at reading messages, but I kinda had an image in my mind that he did want me. Can't really tell his son to tell him if he wanted sex or not, would of been a very awkward conversation. I winked at him, he got that message. Later that night, I was sleeping in a room that was the servant's room. I did feel bad, the father kicked out of her room for some foreigner to sleep in. I paid her secretly, to let her know this was not my idea to sleep there. So it was dark, barely lit enough to know where to exit late at night. I had my shorts & underwear off. All I had on was my white shirt I wore for PE back in high school. So imagine it, me laying stomach flat in a soft cot with nothing but my shirt on & a blanket covering my hairy butt. The door begins to creak open, I turn my head to see a black silhouette standing there in the doorway. It was daddy & he totally got the message. Indian men aren't quick to get in on it so he spent his time climbing up on the bed, lying on top of me & kissing my neck & blowing into my ear. He liked my earlobe, continuously suckling on it & whispering Indian words into me. I didn't know what he was saying, but I kinda hated it. He could be saying love poetry, I hated it. I gripped the bed frame once I felt the tip touching my anus, my dick started to feel a little tingly, this was it. He stuck it in, I could feel my anus rupture a little, but the pain stopped after eight or ten thrusts. I could feel it all, felt too good to be true. Me, having sex with my friend's dad. If only he could of seen what was happening, tie up his son, duct tape his mouth & let him watch his dad fuck my ass but that is just a fantasy. I could feel the blood pulsing through his brown penis, his grey curly pubes tickling my cheeks & his sagging testies hitting mine with every thrust. I wasn't moaning much, using the bed frame as handles wasn't a good idea as it constantly hit the wall. Daddy then roughly grabs my waist & turns my fat ass over & does me missionary. I could see his face, he had a very sinister look to him. I admit, my emotions then started to appear more & more as he continued thrusting. The greying hairy chest, pointy nose, broken smile, reminded me of my father. I began to cry, daddy didn't stop. You know how it is with Indians, gotta finish when they started. Thankfully he came chunky cum on my chubby belly. I could feel the sperm cells wiggling about on my belly & belly button. We both laid down, breathing heavily, his breath smelling of cigarettes & beer. He just laid there, staring off into the cieling. I turn on the lights to see that he had a thin, brown, wrinkly penis. To think such a tiny pencil of a cock made my anus pucker. I saw he still had some leftover come dripping from his tip, so I thought: Hey, leftovers. I leaned in & just slurped all that salty sour cum off him, that woke him up from whatever daydream he was having. He then started to suck his own cum off my belly, kissed me with a mouth full of his own cum, smaked my ass & left the room with a broken smile. That following morning, we ate breakfast & acted like nothing happened.

That was the first time I let a man have his way with me, a man several decades older than me, Indian & who was also the dad of a friend.

Word travels fast in India.

Stick around, I got more stories to tell.