1 comments/ 4082 views/ 0 favorites Superstition By: Taharial Today is born the seventh one Born of woman the seventh son And he in turn of a seventh son He has the power to heal He has the gift of the second sight He is the chosen one So it shall be written ~"Seventh Son of a Seventh Son", Iron Maiden Darra slung her purse over her shoulder and stalked out of her lawyers office. "What a bunch of bullshit!" she thought. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was trying to bully her again, through the courts this time, but almost as awful just the same. This time, the hold-up on her divorce was his petty squabbling over the furniture, of all things. She'd finally told her lawyer to let him have it, all of it, if it would bring this miserable sham of a marriage to an end. She'd tried for two years to get away from Paul, but he'd always tracked her down. Darra wasn't going back to him this time, never. Five and a half years of hell were enough for anyone. Crossing the busy intersection to get to her car, she thought of all the times she'd given in to Paul and his demands. All the name-calling, the put-downs. "Not this time," she promised herself. It had taken her months to get up the courage to actually leave, and then more time with a therapist to even begin to undo the damage Paul had done to her self-esteem. It was a daily struggle, still, to not see herself as ugly, or fat, but she fought on. In reality, Darra was anything but ugly or fat. Paul told her she was, but he used words as weapons in his fight to keep her. Her maternal grandmother had been full-blooded Cherokee, and Darra owed her high cheekbones and dark hair to her. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman with olive skin and strange hazel eyes flecked with gold. The stares and wolf whistles she earned on the street should have told her how attractive she was, but she'd lost whatever confidence she'd once had. Driving home, she turned on the radio and fiddled with the controls, trying to find something to listen to other than the depressing news reports, and finally settling on a classic rock station. She turned it up loud, trying to drown out the thoughts of Paul and his stalling tactics. Foghat serenaded her with "Slow Ride" until she swung her car into the driveway of her mother's house, where she'd been living since she'd walked out on her marriage. Grabbing the latest set of court papers and her purse, Darra dragged herself out of her car, up the walk, and through the front door. The emotional roller-coaster of dealing with her divorce had left her drained and tired, and all she wanted at the moment was a cup of coffee and a place to sit down. When she reached the kitchen, she saw her mother standing at the stove, already working on dinner. "Hey, Mom," Darra called out while she dropped her purse and the papers on the china cabinet. Her mother turned from the stove, "Hi, honey. Don't put your things there, they'll just get lost." "Its just some papers from the lawyer...I'll put them up later. Is there coffee made?" "Sure is....just made it a few minutes ago." Darra made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "How'd the appointment at the lawyer's go?" her mother asked. "Paul's being a jerk, but that's no suprise. Now he wants all the furniture, too. I finally just said to let him have it. I'm tired of the whole thing and just want it to be over." "I know you do, sweetheart," her mother said. "Maybe this will be his last gasp." "I hope so. Can we talk about something else? I really don't feel like rehashing it all right now." Darra's mother turned back to the stove, "Sure. Oh! I forgot to tell you, we have a new neighbor. I saw him moving his stuff in next door this afternoon." "In the Taylor's house? It'll be nice to have someone living there again...it's been empty awhile now." Darra wasn't really that interested in their new neighbor, but any topic besides her divorce would work. "He's very nice looking - and I didn't see a woman with him, or children, for that matter," her mother softly added. "Mom, right now I wouldn't care if he was Brad Pitt's identical twin. The last thing I want to think about is another man!" "I know, honey, but the time will come when you will." Her mother turned and looked at Darra. "Hopefully not for awhile. I'm going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then maybe a nap." Darra took her coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it out before placing it on the counter. She headed up the stairs and towards the promise of a hot shower and some peace. ================================= Ashon finished putting the linens on his bed in his new home. "At least I'll have that much done," he thought as he surveyed the organized chaos around him that had resulted from moving, yet again. He'd gotten a few boxes unpacked, but the house was still in a mess, and he had several days of sorting things out to look forward to. He strolled to the window with the intention of opening it for the breeze, but was brought up short by what he saw across the short distance between his house and the next. Framed in the window of the house next door was a woman. A beautiful woman with long, dark hair and golden skin. She had obviously forgotten to pull the shades and was undressing without realizing she was being watched. Ashon almost forgot to breathe as he watched her unbutton her blouse, button by button. He longed to put his fingers where hers were now, longed to feel her skin. She tossed her blouse to the side, and reached around behind her to unzip her skirt. He felt a brief sense of shame for standing there, watching, but it passed quickly as he saw her push the skirt down, and step out of it. She again reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it drop into her hands, before tossing it out of sight. Ashon got a small, sweet glimpse of the swell of her breast behind her arm, and then she bent to slip off her panties. When she turned to the mirror, her back to him, he felt his cock rising, hard and hot. The curve of her hips, flowing down to legs that seemed impossibly long, took his breathe away, and he held on to the window frame, as his legs unexpectedly went weak. She turned again, and her profile was striking. He watched as she cupped her breasts and tilted her head. Her hands snaked slowly, almost timidly, down her concave belly and down to dwell between her thighs. Hesitantly, she began to stroke herself, her lovely arched back covered by her lush hair. Her body tensed, the muscles in her legs and hips going hard as she slipped into her climax. Her beautiful face the picture of perfect passion. Spent, she dropped her head forward, seemingly to catch her breath. Her hair fell forwards to cover her features. After several moments, Ashon saw her pull a robe off the back of the door to her right, and then disappear through it. His heart slowed, and he made his way to his bed and sat down. After catching his breath, Ashon went about straightening the mess, and putting his things away, but his mind kept returning to the dark-haired beauty next door. Her image went with him as he went downstairs and began to put dishes and glasses up in the kitchen. It followed him relentlessly when he headed to the living room to hang a few pictures and hook the cable to his television, and again, it joined him hours later as he took a shower. When he felt the water cascade down his back, the image of her legs, and her breast took hold of him, and his cock began to pulse in time with his heartbeat. He grasped himself tightly with his hand, and began to stroke, slowly at first, until the memory of her golden skin, and lucious ass overtook him, and he came, shooting against the wall of the shower, steadying himself with one hand against the same wall. Ashon dried off, and headed for bed, still unable to shake the image of the woman next door. Why did she stay with him? What was it about her? He'd had his share of women, but this one.....there was something, but he just couldn't put a finger on it. Her memory was merciless. He drifted off to sleep, still affected by the sight of the beauty in the window. ================================= Darra surprised herself by sleeping the night through after her shower. She'd been more tired than she'd thought, mentally and emotionally tired after her appointment with her lawyer. After having breakfast with her mother, she had picked up the paperback she'd been reading and went out to the front porch on the swing with a glass of iced-tea for some welcome hours of peaceful escape into her novel. An hour or so later, her attention was distracted by the mailman coming by and beeping his horn as he passed. He'd been a childhood favorite of Darra's, and never failed to beep or wave when he saw her. She set her book down on the swing next to her and walked out to the street, and the mailbox. She never even noticed the man behind her until he spoke. "Hi, I'm your new neighbor, Ashon" he said, as he held out his hand to Darra. Darra turned, startled, but reflexively put out her hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you. I'm Darra." When Ashon's hand touched hers, he felt something akin to shock run up his arm. He knew something about her almost instinctively. She'd had a rough time recently, and was very unsure of herself. He shook his head, trying to focus on the woman standing in front of him, regarding him as if he was a puzzle she'd yet to solve. "It's good to meet you, too. I saw your mother, was it? yesterday, and waved, but haven't gotten the chance to actually meet her." "Yes, she mentioned she'd seen you moving in," Darra answered, while pulling the mail out of the mailbox. Her mother had been right, their new neighbor was certainly attractive. Very tall, slimly built, but powerful looking, nonetheless. His hair was a rich gold, with lighter streaks, and he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She turned to head back up the walk towards her porch. His voice stopped her again. "Maybe we can have lunch one day, or maybe dinner? Either one's fine. I'm not from here, so I'd love to hear about the town." Dara turned, and Ashon couldn't help noticing her eyes....a strange green-gold color. "Um....I guess. Sure." Ashon could hear the uncertainty in her voice, and it struck a chord in his heart. He could see pain behind those striking eyes.Someone had hurt her, badly. "What about tonight? I could cook us something here....my house." "I don't know...," Darra hesitated. He was attractive to her, but Paul had been, too, and she couldn't forget how that had turned out. "No pressure," Ashon promised. "Just a nice casual meal....please." Darra couldn't resist the pleading in his eyes. "Okay, sure. What time?" "Around seven okay?" Ashon still held her eyes with his. "Fine, can I bring anything?" "No, not a thing. You can point me in the direction of the nearest grocery store, though." Darra gave him directions, and then went back to her novel and her seat on the swing. When she noticed she'd read the same paragraph three times, she finally put it down, and let her mind wind itself around the man that had moved into the house next door. She didn't really understand why she had given in so easily to his invitation to dinner, but she found herself actually looking forward to it, which surprised her. When she told her mother later about the invitation, she didn't seem surprised, but wisely, made little fuss about it. Darra had had that deer in the headlights look just speaking about it, and her mother didn't want to make her any more self-concious than she already was. At about 6:00 Darra took a shower and got ready to walk next door. She looked one last time in the mirror and tried gamely to like what she saw. She had chosed a simple denim skirt, white blouse, and sandals. She admitted the skirt showed her legs to an advantage, but couldn't find anything else complimentary about the way she looked. Promptly at 7:00 she knocked on Ashon's front door, trembling lightly inside at her boldness, but enjoying the slight excitement of dinner with a man she found very attractive. Ashon answered the door quickly, as if he'd been right there waiting for her, and she noticed his hair was still damp, and curling slightly around his ears and at the nape of his neck. For some reason, the sight of those almost-curls set her at ease. It made him human in her eyes. "Hi. C'mon in," Ashon invited her, and stepped back out of the way, closing the door softly behind her. The house still looked bare, but Darra noticed that he'd taken the time to hang a few pictures, and put a few personal items here and there. He placed his hand in the small of her back, and again he felt that shock go up his arm, and it was all he could do to leave his hand there. As they reached the kitchen, Darra realized he'd gone to quite a bit of trouble for their "date." The table was set nicely with linen placemats and napkins, and there was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. She was pleasantly surprised, and wished she'd dressed up a little more. "Do you like italian food?" Ashon asked her as he pulled out her chair. "Yes, I do. Something smells heavenly," Darra replied. "I made linguine with clam sauce...is that okay?" he asked, while he busied himself opening the wine. "Lovely! It's one of my favorites." Ashon poured her a glass of wine, and put the finishing touches on dinner, and then slid a plate of pasta in front of her, before joining her at the table with his own dinner and wine. They talked of inconsequential things, the town and it's inhabitants, his work - he was a freelance writer, and before Darra knew it, several hours had passed. She realized she hadn't been near as self-concious as she would normally have been, and wondered why. She asked him about his unusual name, and what it meant. "It means 'healer' in Hebrew, I believe," Ashon answered. "Have you ever heard the legend about the 'seventh son of a seventh son'?" he asked. "I've heard something about it, I think. The phrase is familiar, but I'm not sure what it means," she told him. "Well, according to folklore, the seventh son of a seventh son is born with what they call second-sight, and is able to heal people just by the laying on of hands. I'm a seventh son of a seventh son, and I think my parents thought it was sort of a nice tradition. That's where they came up with the name Ashon." "You mean you have ESP, or something? You're a psychic?" Darra was incredulous. Did he expect her to believe that? "No, nothing like that," Ashon was quick to correct her impression. "It's just that's where my parents got my name, that's all." "Oh...." Darra's voice trailed off. She was relieved that she didn't have to try and suspend her disbelief for the sake of a decent conversation with a guy that seemed to be nice, as well as very attractive. They chatted for a few more minutes, and Darra noticed it was getting late, and she needed to go. Ashon walked her to the door, trying unsuccessfully to get her to stay just a little longer. When they reached the door, Darra turned to tell him thank you, and goodnight. "How about lunch tomorrow?" Ashon asked. "I'm not sure...," Darra started to answer. He interrupted her before she could finish, "C'mon, it's supposed to be a beautiful day. Maybe I can pack a picnic and we can go somewhere and enjoy it. You pick the spot." "Sure, okay." She found herself agreeing rather easily. He was like a magnet, she couldn't resist the pull of those blue eyes. Before she knew what was happening, Ashon put his arms around her, and pressed the lightest of kisses on her lips. She found herself responding to the closeness, and pressed herself against him, deepened the kiss almost without realizing what she was doing. Ashon responded, not by kissing her harder, but to her surpised, pulling away. There was an amused glint in his eye as he said, "I'll see you tomorrow then...around eleven, okay?" Darra fought not to raise her hand to her mouth, but agreed to the time, and walked the short distance home, remembering his kiss and wondering why she'd reacted the way she had, and why he'd stopped. ================================= Darra dressed the next morning for her picnic with Ashon, taking care with her choices. She pulled out a pair of white shorts she hadn't worn in years, and put them on. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit they were flattering, if a little shorter than anything she had worn lately. Pairing them with a red tank top, she studied her reflection again. The result surprised her, she liked what she saw. She stepped into the bathroom to run a brush through her hair and put on some lipstick and caught herself playfully throwing a kiss to the person in the mirror. Her step was light as she went downstairs, called out "Bye, Mom!", and went out the door. Ashon was waiting for her on his porch, with a colorful quilt under his arm, a large basket and a cooler on the floor next to him. She smiled up at him. "Need help carrying any of that stuff?" "Um, sure," he answered, handing her the quilt while he picked up the rest. "So, where are we going?" Ashon asked as he stowed the things in the trunk of his car. "There's a really nice place up by the river....a waterfall and everything. How's that sound?" "Good. Here..." Ashon tossed her his car keys. Darra caught them in her right hand and looked at him, surprised. "You want me to drive?" "Sure, why not?" Now Ashon was puzzled. "Well, its just that...well, most guys...oh, never mind." She grinned at him, and then hopped in his car, her mood getting better and better by the minute. The short drive out of town was enjoyable for both of them. Darra rolled the window down and felt lighter than she had in years. Ashon was free to look at her all he liked as she drove. He thought she was a beautiful woman, and she was revealing herself as someone he'd like to know much better, slowly but surely. Underneath all that insecurity was a gorgeous, strong butterfly. They reached the dirt road leading to the waterfall, unpacked the trunk of the car and lugged their things up the path, Darra with her lighter burden of only the quilt literally running ahead of Ashon. When he caught up with her at the top of the path, the scene almost took his breath away. Laid out in front of him was a small river cascading over large, flat, water-worn rocks before flowing over a small, but very lovely, waterfall. He took the quilt from her after setting the other things down, and shook it out before letting it fall to the ground. Darra sat, and started unpacking the basket after retrieving a soda for herself from the cooler. Ashon wandered close to the edge of the water, listening to the muted roar. He felt, rather than heard, Darra come up behind him. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked him. "Yeah, it is. I would never have found a place like this, thanks." "Well, it used to be known as sort of a local hangout when I was in high school. Me and, well.....I used to come here a lot." "I'm glad you showed it to me." Ashon took her hand and led her back to the quilt, took a soda for himself, and sat down, leaning back on his elbows, looking at her. Darra knew he was watching her and felt a thrill of excitement course through her body that she hadn't felt in longer than she could remember. When she raised her eyes to his, he reached out, took her drink from her and pulled her to him in a kiss. She welcomed it, and began kissing him back. His tongue licked at her lips and she opened her mouth, accepting it inside. His arms came around her, pulling her on top of him, and she could feel his cock rising up, hard against her belly. Rather than pulling away, as she would have normally done, Darra pressed herself to him even harder, enjoying the realization that he found her beautiful, and desirable. It felt good to have a man against her again, pulling her against him. She felt the wall she'd painstakenly built around herself begin to crumble. In Ashon's eyes she could see her reflection, and it was that of a lovely woman. Her self-confidence began to soar, and she took the lead, tugging on his shirt, impatient to have it gone. When he obliged her by stripping it off, she joined him, pulling her own tank top up and over her head. Darra pressed herself against him again, relishing the feeling of his bare chest hard against her breasts, the tickle of his hair making her nipples hard and start to ache for attention. Superstition Led to Seduction Special Thanks to Roman for editing and proof reading. ***** It's almost been 10 months since I left Airline industry. I wasn't all that keen for a new job, but wasting days and months killing time wasn't a good idea. There were plenty of openings in the BPO sector with good pay. I'm grateful to dad; he was the one who, about four years ago, persuaded me to complete my post graduation and get an MBA in Human Resources. I was reluctant in the beginning, but dad had this uncanny ability to convince me, being a professional tutor and a university lecturer he knew that someday MBA degree would rescue me. I immediately received a call from few outsourcing companies. My resume was uncomplicated with 10 straight years of experience in airline industry as an air hostess. The minimum requirement was an MBA in HR. Everything looked perfect except, that I completed my post graduation through distance mode. This could pose a legitimate problem. However, it would be worth giving a try. This was my second interview in the last decade. The interview went smooth. I was presentable and the least nervous when compared to the other candidates. My confidence was sky-high and of course all the other miscellaneous traits like beauty and a sexy figure which were required for air hostess jobs did wonders here. I may be less knowledgeable in some subjects when compared to other candidates who just received their degrees through regular college. I had some traits which the HR manager found interesting. In other words the glamour factor and prior experience in airlines worked in my favor. I was delighted to see the offer letter and the package looked good. It was a kind of a non-voice BPO company, mostly dealing with back end support for US clients. I had no responsibility and had enough bank balance which I accumulated for 10 years. Money was never a problem as I was an only child. For 30 year old women the offer was great. Most importantly I didn't have to travel much. The company was a 10 minute ride from my apartment. The shift timings were ideal, the standard 9 to 5. I purchased a two-wheeler moped to commute and the regular routine job started.Coincidentally, my job timings were similar to Government offices. I still missed the glamour and excitement of being an air hostess, but this job had stability. There were more chances of going astray working as an air hostess and innumerable opportunities to get laid with handsome, high profile men. Here, in this sober environment of my colony I had to create opportunities but vigilance was required as people are hypocrites. It was a mix-match of tradition and superstition. I still had an opportunity a couple of months ago to unleash my exhibitionist side. The target was Jamal my neighbor's son. (That incident had been described in my previous story.) One evening while returning from work, I decided to buy some groceries. The shop was right opposite to my apartment. I parked my vehicle and when I entered the shop, I saw my neighbor Krishna shouting at Vikram. Vikram was a shop owner and there seemed to be an argument. Vikram had always been a shrewd business man. He was notorious for not returning any small change after the purchase; instead of money he would give a small chocolate in exchange. I ignored their argument and started picking up my stuff, but soon realized that Krishna wasn't targeting Vikram. His real target was Bhushan. Vikram recently hired nineteen year old Bhushan to run a few errands like unloading the goods from truck or to deliver groceries to nearby houses. It was a minor issue. Bhushan packed less sugar which made Krishna irate, and that's how the verbal spate began. In the entire episode Bhushan was on the receiving end. He had to bear with the insults and abuses. Meanwhile, Vikram's intention was to mitigate the problem. He was constantly looking for an amicable solution. After all Krishna was his old time customer and he didn't want to lose him for a silly reason. In the end compromise was made. Poor Bhushan had to apologize for an innocent mistake. Krishna wasn't pleased with the apology. He was still furious and left in hurry. When I reached home I kept wondering why Krishna was angry on this minor issue. Bhushan didn't deserve all these insults. Krishna was a bank manager already in mid 50s; he was an uptight, and always led an austere quality of life. Once dad arrived I narrated the entire incident. Dad was flabbergasted. He kept on mumbling things like caste superiority, discrimination, racism etc. I could figure out his disgust; in past on several occasion he had shown his indignation towards discrimination. Once he finished his anti-caste ranting he explained everything to me. Krishna being from the upper-caste never misses an opportunity to target anyone from lower caste. He despised people like Bhushan who are taking advantage of the reservation system in government jobs and universities. I never knew that Bhushan was a lower caste Dalit pursuing his education and working part time in a grocery shop. Dad started his unending speech on Indian social institutions and social stratification, marginalization and caste system etc - and how the upper caste people still discriminate the lower caste Dalits. Once he finished the unusually long lecture. I innocently told him that Bhushan doesn't look like a Dalit. Bushan was fair, tall and an athletic built. Dad then explained that Bhushan's father was a Dalit married to a lambada woman. He had a mixed gene pool of Dalit and Lambada. No wonder he had a fair complexion which he received from his mother side. Lambdas are the gypsies of India; they belong to the other backward caste. They usually dwell on the outskirts or forest, often involved in small trade. Five thousand years ago they migrated to India from Afghanistan by crossing the Indus River. Their women are fair and beautiful. They wear colored dress, folk ornaments and bangles. They are spread across India and speak a different dialect; many of them over the centuries have mastered the regional languages spoken across India. They are intelligent and very good with numbers. Unfortunately, caste system remained a barrier; the community remained backward and illiterate. I was fascinated to hear about Bhushan, he had an interesting gene pool and a fine combination of a dark Dalit father and fair lambada mother. I thought why not help this underprivileged youth in my own way. Dad had a similar idea. In fact Dad also offered him free tuition's which he politely refused. I suggested that why not opt for a home delivery from Vikram's shop; as Bhushan is responsible for the delivery part. On every home delivery we can pay him a small tip. In that way we would be doing our little bit for this poor chap; who often faces discrimination from society's patriarchal mentality. Dad gleefully accepted. After fifteen days; one evening I called Vikram, and ordered some stuff. Since Bhushan wasn't available, he said it would take a couple of hours for home delivery. Dad went to a wedding party with his friends. Since it was a Hyderabadi Muslim marriage, they won't return home until midnight. I logged into my facebook account, my pervert of a friend Jeremy was online. We started chatting. He was inquiring about Jamal. I diverted the topic, I had no intention to share my previous exhibitionist experience with him. He wouldn't mind pestering me to sleep with Jamal which I would never dare to do. Jeremy was a psychologist living in United States. Our conversations often start with something intellectually stimulating, but my perverted friend sedulously brings in sexual perversion. He is fun to talk to, and always shares some unique information. I would go so far as to call him an intellectual pervert. For one hour we chatted on myriad stuff. Then he told me to login to yahoo-messenger, well this was an indication for strip tease. I wonder why he doesn't get bored watching me naked all the time. Before he could say something I switched on the cam and adjusted in the right direction. I was dressed in a short black pencil skirt above my knees, and a low cut white top, exposing good amount cleavage. The cam was directed towards my knees and skirt. I was sitting on a bamboo sofa. There was enough space to move back. I parted my legs, hoisting my short skirt further up. This gave him a perfect view of my bottom half -my fleshy hips and inner thighs. And most important my black cotton panties were in full view. I always wondered why he wanted me to do this. He always loved the slow strip tease, with plenty of teasing involved. He then instructed me to remove my top. I quickly removed my white top and adjusted the cam, my round boobs and taut nipples were on full display. I started squeezing them-pressing them from both ends. I was brazenly exposing myself in front of the cam, giving him a nice panty and tit show. I honestly loved it. This unleashed my inner slut. I then stood up moved back and removed my skirt. I was virtually naked with only my black cotton panties covering me. I kept adjusting the cam and made sure he saw plenty of me. I was confident that he must be going crazy on the other side of the world watching this whitish oriental beauty from east. This white man with blond hair was crazy about Indian women. Suddenly bell rang. That brought me out of the reveries I quickly typed "someone at the door" and got dressed. I completely lost track of time between chatting and the striptease. Meanwhile, the bell rang another couple of times. I immediately opened the door and it was Bhushan. By any standards for a small town boy like Bhushan I was sexily dressed. The door was fully open, he quickly moved all the stuff inside and handed me the bill. I quickly went to my room for some cash and additional tip. I checked the laptop and my pervert friend was still online, there were innumerable messages and kinky words describing my body, he never fails to express his deep desire to fuck me in those Kamasutra positions. I typed 'hi'. He immediately replied, I told him that there was a chap from the nearby grocery store. Jeremy started teasing me; he started insinuating naughty ideas to flash Bhushan. I was confused for a moment, and then I thought it won't be a bad idea. All I needed was to buy some time and make him stay. I thought why not give him some additional work. As I came out of the room, I saw Bhushan distressed; he seemed jittery. I ignored these signs and requested him to shift all that stuff to the kitchen. He reluctantly agreed and cautiously started to shift things to the kitchen. I sat on the chair, ensuring that my skirt was hitched up; also instructing where to place things. He was frightened to make any eye contact, his behavior was strange. My bare legs and the shortness of my miniskirt would any time draw attention of any young men. But this chap seemed weird. I bend forward to show my cleavage, which made him nervous. He started sweating. Then I moved back and opened my legs, my panties were blatantly exposed. He gave a quick glance and started shivering. This seemed bizarre; he increased his pace and quickly shifted everything to the kitchen. I got up by spreading my legs wide enough with my panties fully on display, instead of generating some excitement the teasing backfired. When I handed him the money with extra tip, he was so horrified, that he dropped the change and left the apartment at a brisk pace. I had no clue for this sort of reaction, and kept thinking about it all night. Next morning while going to work, I saw Bhushan at a temple. His eyes were closed and hands were joined, in a Namaste position. I wondered why this lower caste boy still holds temple and deities in such high esteem. The same Gods have deserted him, but his reverence for such Gods remains intact. It was a combination of guilt and fear-well orchestrated by high priests Brahmin. They had justification for ill-treating this lower caste boy, first through guilt, that due to his bad Karma in past life he was cursed and born in a lower caste. The next was the universal method to instill fear. That if he continues, he would be born into a much degraded form of sub-human or animal in the next life. The only way to move upward is to acquiesce to the demands of the high priests and unquestioningly accept his destiny having to silently bear the discrimination. This industry of fear has been around for thousands of years, but social reformers and enlightened people in every era have questioned this barbaric practice and discrimination. My dad has also played his small part in emancipation of lower caste. I initially thought about attempting a small talk with Bhushan, but decided against it and left for work. The next morning, I took bath and came out of the bathroom in a small black bathrobe way above my knees. When I entered the room, there were seven missed calls from Dad. I quickly gave a call back; he said Bhushan might come in any moment. Dad ordered five kilos of basmati rice. He also informed me the place where he kept the money and additional tip. As soon as he hung up, door bell rang. I rushed towards the door and knew that it was Bhushan. And it was him, I felt excited, great opportunity to tease I thought. Bhushan was scared to death; he entered the hall as if he was entering some haunted place. Looking at his face I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to flash. The parting of the robe gave a full view of my thighs and the cleavage was well on display. I bet forward towards the dining table to grab the five hundred rupees note and accidentally the knot on my robe got disentangled, the rope fell and the two sides of the robe were parted. I stood there naked in full glory. My hairy pussy and round boobs were fully displayed. My semi-wet naked body was fully exposed. This was an outright accidental exposure, before I could apologize Bhushan; he shouted Bhoot! Bhoot! Meaning Ghost Ghost and ran away. I felt confounded; people around the colony would do the impossible to watch me naked and here is an open offer which he had rejected. He became more inaccessible in the coming days. I tried to approach him to find out the reason for this strange behavior. But he resisted every attempt. One night I was returning home from an office party, it was 9:00 PM. I had a couple of drinks, but I was not completely drunk. I was wearing a white blouse tucked into a black circular skirt which covered my knees. Few girls including me were provided a cab and home drop. The driver dropped me at the entrance and the guard escorted me to the elevator. I entered the elevator and as the first floor came the elevator opened I could see the back of Bhushan, he was dragging a huge sack of rice. He didn't notice me. He entered, and kept the heavy sack on the other side- and pressed the seventh floor. I was thrilled. This was a great opportunity to do something naughty. Once he turned back tears started flowing of his eyes. He was scared to find himself alone with me in the elevator. Although I wasn't that drunk, but couple of drinks did remove my inhibition. I smiled and watching him scared doubled my excitement. In that very moment I hiked my skirt high above the navel region. My high-cut Blue panties were completely exposed. I turned back to show my behind. I thought at least he would be turned on by looking at my big ass. But he closed his eyes and started chanting some mantras. I was petrified. He started pleading me not to harm him. He even got on his knees and begged. This strange reaction made me nervous. I dropped my skirt and requested him to calm down. The seventh floor came and the doors opened he quickly tried to drag the heavy sack and fell on the ground, that was hilarious I started laughing. Once I reached home. I wondered why he behaved in this strange manner, something was seriously wrong. I desperately wanted to know the truth. He might be gay. But why does he fear me? I wondered. One week after the incident. I was returning home on my two-wheeler Moped. I saw Bhushan in the small lane-and immediately stopped. Then quickly drove towards him and stopped my vehicle in front of him. That evening I was determined to find the truth. He ignored and dodged me and quickly moved forward at a brisk pace. I didn't back off and started following him. When he was about to run, I shouted and threatened to complain his boss Vikram of eve teasing. I know I was being mean, but there was no alternative. The only option was blackmail. My compliant can jeopardize his job and any complaint from a woman would permanently ruin his career. He walked towards me and fell on my feet to forgive and leave him alone, and incessantly started taking the names of various Gods and Goddesses that he remembered. That didn't please me a bit, I was a born Atheist. I instructed him to sit behind me, which he meekly obeyed and we zoomed towards the main road. We went to 'Coffee Day' and quickly occupied a sofa, and sat facing each other. I ordered two cappuccinos and started probing about his strange behavior. I shamelessly asked him about his sexual orientation. He quickly cleared that doubt, and confirmed that he was straight. He initially resisted revealing the real reason for his awkward behavior but my incessant probing worked. He at last opened up and what he said shook my very existence. He said that I'm possessed by a spirit. The coffee was ready, I felt like throwing the hot coffee on his face but somehow managed to control my anger. I felt it is better to opt for a reasonable approach and hear him out. I asked him the reason why he thinks that I'm possessed by a spirit; I don't behave in a strange manner. My face color or voice never changes. He explained that every spirit is different; this spirit is of a young women and she never gives any indication. She works silently so that no one is suspicious. Any person that she enters would not show any indication of being possessed. Even the person wouldn't know that he or she is possessed. I wonder why invisible spirits had to use stealth to enter a body. According to Bhushan ; this spirit is different if she enters a women body she starts behaving like a slut. I couldn't blame him here, because of all the naughty stuff I did. Suddenly I remembered the story of one such spirit, which I heard long time ago. This story is about a young woman, her name was Bikuma. The incident happened 70 years ago in the same place where our apartment is built. The land belonged to a rich aristocrat, Nawab. There was a Haveli (private mansion) on the same land. Bikuma was a maid servant and extremely beautiful. The rich aristocrat Nawab was madly in love with her. They had a torrid love affair and he impregnated her. The family got to know about his misdeeds so they poisoned Bikuma and sent the Nawab to Aligarh Muslim University in Lukhnow for higher education. Nawab died one year after from falling from a horse. Since then the spirit of Bikuma has been loitering around the apartment. There are plenty of rumors about sightings of her. The story came to light from some mysterious and unreliable sources. The surrounding area and locality was excellent, only the resale value dipped because of Bikumas haunted story. The dealer's, brokers and builders did their best to first get rid of the archaic structure, which was left deserted for nearly five decades. They then dealt with plenty of legal hassles as the structure could become a heritage site. Once the apartments were sold; people came to know about the haunted story. People with myriad stand point right from religious bigots, superstitious, Castist found ways to mitigate the dangers. They couldn't do much on the financial side as the purchases were done, but plenty of options were available on the superstition front. Our neighbor Krishna would perform yagnas and pujas every six months and doesn't mind paying a hefty amount to those Brahmins, who perform some strange rituals and recite Sanskrit Slokas. He even saved money to build a small temple inside the apartment premises. Sadiq often calls a Sufi saint from a Dargah to ensure that the evil spirit doesn't harm his family. The saint would only brush the walls with the sweep made out of peacock feathers while reciting some Arabic verses. He keeps revising his fee every six months and makes additional demands. Dad kept his cool thanks to his rational and Atheistic world-view that we were saved from this unending gibberish superstition, and also saved some money. Superstition Led to Seduction Though Bhushan seemed convinced that I've been possessed by Bikuma. I gave him all scientific and rational arguments, but reason and rationality had no place in his myopic worldview. I realized that literacy never translates into rationality and scientific temperament. Bhushan was still reasonably educated; even though he studies in a regional medium school, he must have still come across translated works of Einstein or Newton in science lessons. I wonder how he could believe in this primitive nonsense and cavemen wisdom. I scolded and shouted, but nothing worked. I threatened to make a complaint to his boss, but that would be fatal mistake. Vikram also believed in ghost stories. Many people are suspicious that it could be Vikram who spread the rumors. In the end I gave up and we parted. While leaving he offered me help. He was convinced that I'm in danger and need immediate help. He was desperate to be my savior. He recommended me a Guru who already had a notorious reputation. That was a saturation point and I blasted at him and threatened to destroy his life. Poor fellow immediately vanished from the scene. I left for home. I was frustrated and felt like a looser. But I didn't want to give up easily. I was angry at Bhushan, how dare he thinks that I need help. I wanted to talk to someone and turned to my reliable advisor. My online pervert friend Jeremy. It was late evening here, but early morning in USA. I send a message on Facebook and the reply was prompt. Before I could start narrating the incident I immediately warned him that I was in no mood for any strip tease and wanted to discuss something important. I narrated the entire incident. After hearing me out, he advised me to meet the Guru suggested by Bhushan. That was it, I got furious and logged out of my facebook. It was another rough day. I was in real bad mood. I kept wondering how reasonably, educated people could behave like jerks. I felt both sympathy and anger for Bhushan. He doesn't realize that certain section of society is taking advantage of his gullibility and enslaving him. After dinner I thought why not meet the Guru once and find about his activities. Maybe Jeremy has a point. I pondered over the prospect of meeting this sham Guru. Then suddenly in a flash I got a novel idea. I would agree to meet the Guru on my conditions. I quickly wrote a note explaining my conditions, and also left my mobile number. The next morning I went to Vikram's shop to buy a Silk Chocolate and secretly handed over the note to Bhushan. I received a call in two hours. Bhushan was delighted to know that I believed in some amount of divinity and was ready to accept that evil spirits exist. I remained calm; let him bask in glory. Let this poor chap take the credit. Something to make him feel good, after all he faces enough indignation from orthodox people. We decided to meet on Saturday morning. He also agreed to my condition, that he should stay outside when we meet the Guru. The next day was a Saturday and a weekend. Unfortunately Bhushan had no weekends; sometimes the shop would remain open on Sundays. We decided to meet in the evening at coffee day and then leave to the Guru's place on my moped. Bhushan reached out before 6:00 and gave a ring. I reached there in next 15 minutes and we left to the Gurus place. It took almost 45 minutes to get there due to the chaotic traffic and narrow lanes. The building had a shabby appearance; there was no elevator. The place was old. We took the staircase and reached the third floor. It was a three bedroom apartment. The entrance had a typical traditional appearance. There was a Ganesh idol tucked to the door. The floor was decorated by various designs called 'Kolam'. The designs are made by using rice flour, chalk powder and white rock. Kolam designs are found on the entrance floor of every traditional Hindi house. It was a three bedroom apartment, which belonged to one of the guru's disciple. It had a rustic appearance; there were plenty of pictures of various Gods and Goddesses tucked on the walls. In one isolated corner there was a small temple of some deity with some incense burning slowly. The fragrance of the sweet smelling incense was spread around the hall. This was a place where religion and superstitions met. Most of the plastic chairs were occupied; there were people around from all strata of the society. Any foreigner would make out that modern India is a land of rich Gurus feigning to be poor; in the name of tradition- fleecing the rich and poor by selling false hope. After waiting for one hour the Gurus assistant in saffron robe allowed me in. I entered the room; the Guru gave a meditative look. He had long hair and beard, with a U-shaped tilak on his forehead. He was sitting on the floor in a squatted position, surrounded by the pictures of various Devils and Devtas. In a serene tone he asked my problem. I was prepared for this questioned. I gave him list of all mundane problem like Marriage, Health, Job, family disputes etc. And as usual the Guru did some cold reading. He knew the trick and trade. He used a mixture of astrology and numerology combined with Vastu shastra and a little bit of palmistry. It was a complete hodgepodge cold reading, which made him sound authentic. He gave me some mantras and a talisman, and told me to perform some strange rituals and pooja to impress the Devis and Devtas. He promised me that good times will come, and I should have faith in divine. The session was over in 20 minutes. Once I came out Bhushan was filling some form. It was a donation form. The amount was thousand rupees. This was annoying, why didn't they straight away ask me consulting fee. Why obfuscate things and unnecessarily call it donation when in reality it is all business. I kept my cool and gave the assistant the required amount, and left the place. Now was the time to execute Plan B. I told Bhushan that tonight Guruji want us to perform a special ritual in my bedroom and if we fail to do it, then there would be an eternal damnation. In the next seven births he would born a dog and meet violent death every time. Bhushan got scared; every word of the Guru was a word of God. Most importantly he believed in the crazy idea of reincarnation. He started showering praises on Guruji, thanking various Gods for saving his present life and next life. In reality he was in my control. I informed him that Guruji will not see his face until Bikumas aatma is satisfied. We decided to meet that night in my apartment around 11:00. I dropped him at coffee day. In the next couple of hours I took shower had dinner. I was alone as dad was out of town for an Atheist meet-up. He would return by Monday. I told Bhushan to give me a call once he was near the apartment, so that I could keep the door unlocked and he can quickly get in. I instructed him to directly get into my bedroom. The security was always vigilant during the night times, but Bhushan knew the place well. He used the backside wall to sneak into the building. He gave a call and within a couple of minutes I heard a creaking sound of the entrance door and felt excited. He entered and knocked the bed room door. I told him to come in. As he entered I was lying on my bed naked. My legs spread- my hairy pussy and round boobs displayed. He was horrified to see me sky clad, and tried to flee, thinking that Bikuma spirit has entered my body. I caught hold of him and warned him about his next birth, and reminded him about gurujis words. I told him to calm down and gave some water, and explained him that the ritual has to be performed naked. I then concocted a story, that he was the aristocrat landlord in previous birth - Bikumas lover - and her desperate spirit is capable of destroying many lives if it is not satisfied. 'Obey your Guru' I warned him and the only way to satisfy this spirit is to make love with her, through my body. I reached down and slipped his pants down; removed his boxers. His thick roughly eight inch dick was rock hard, it uncoiled out of his boxers like a hypnotized cobra coming out of the basket of a snake charmer. I started jacking him off. I started licking and sucking his dick, and then took his thick shaft in my mouth. My complete focus was on sucking his cock. I sucked it hard. I got up and we both started feeling each other bodies. His dick was hard enough and hitting my belly. He started feeling my waist and fingering me; playing with my clit. He inserted his fingers into my pussy. I was turned on; wet, excited and ready for a good fuck. He removed his t-shirt and gave a lip to lip kiss with full force. My 30 plus body needed this 19 something, youthful exuberance and energy. I was thrilled to get fucked by a teenager almost a decade younger to me. We quickly hit the bed. I guided his hard dick into my pussy. My wet pussy instantly swallowed the entire length. He got on top of me and I spread my legs wide. I started riding his dick vigorously. Even though it was a regular missionary fuck I still loved it. He played with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. He then held onto my big ass with both hands; which was shaking vigorously and then slowly moved up towards my belly started squeezing my boobs. He then started fucking me as hard as he could, simultaneously sucking my nipples; rolling his tongue over my taut nipples. This lad had great stamina; his gypsy lambada gene pool could be the reason. After receiving a good amount of battering I had a wonderful orgasm after a long time, meanwhile his dick was still inside but the initial vigor has slowed down. He was about to cum. He held me tight and his cock sprayed loads of white creamy cum inside my pussy. He rolled over. We were tired, had a long day, and quickly fell asleep. I woke at five in the morning, and immediately woke him up. I thought he should leave and catch some sleep in his room. Bhushan lived nearby and shared room with some colleagues. The security guard must be in deep sleep. He can easily escape from the back gate. Before he left I told him to meet for lunch. It was a Sunday and Vikrams shop would be closed before lunch. I slept till 10AM; woke up happy and exhausted. Last night was thrilling. Bhusan was in my control. I could make him do anything. He was my sex slave. I took a long bath. Since I was alone, I decided to wear a t-shirt which only just covered my ass; without any undergarments. I had my breakfast, read magazines, and did little bit of browsing. At 1 PM I received a call from Bhushan. He asked me if the ritual can be performed now. "More the merrier" I replied, "anytime, whenever I feel horny". The spirit will calm down and become docile if the frequency of fuck is increased. Bhushan had no other choice and he was probably enjoying it. He rushed to my place. The door was unlocked, he barged into the apartment. We looked into each other's eyes. I badly needed a fuck. He pounced on me straight away. We started kissing each other. He pulled my T-shirt up and his fingers wandering down to my pussy and stroking it; then moving his hands over my big ass. I removed my t-shirt and stood naked in front of him. He was excited by looking at the fullness of my boobs. He squeezed them with both hands; and started sucking them one by one like a baby. His tongue flutter over my taut nipples. Without wasting any time we moved towards the dining room. He quickly undressed and stood naked. His rock hard dick pointed at me. He stared at my crotch. He seemed hungry to get his dick inside my wet hole. I gave a naughty smile, and turned my back towards the dining table. Spread my legs wide; placed my right leg on the chair while spreading it even more. I fingered my wet cunt, while taking support of the table with my left hand. He latched on me and started planting kisses on my neck shoulder; while his cock fluttered over my ass. I rubbed my cunt and in a sexy voice asked- if he would love to fuck me from behind, Bikuma spirit might love it as well. That really turned him on, he became over enthusiastic. His throbbing cock started hitting my big ass. He rubbed tip along my ass up and down my ass crack; some transparent fluid coming out of it. I had to help this novice find the right place. He was dealing with aveteran. I'd been fucked several times from the rear. But for Bhushan this was the first time. His dick meandered around my fleshy behind. My bare ass got squeezed and lifted. He pulled my ass cheeks apart to get better access of my pussy. My pussy was getting wet. He got his cock right up against my pussy. In one strike he got his cock buried in my twat. I whimpered when he started fucking me vigorously. My pussy gripped his cock completely. As he fucked me harder and harder I gasped. He slapped my ass as he continued fucking me. He increased his pace. The pace was variable, but made me convulse with pleasure. He grabbed my tits from behind and started squeezing them crudely. We were breathing heavily; I could hear the slapping sound of Bhushan's pelvis against my back. He started fucking deeply into my pussy and stroked his hands on my meaty thighs and knees. The fuck became intense I stiffened and shuddered through an orgasm. He got his dick out of my wet hole. We then made a small change in the position. I leaned forward; with both elbows resting on the table, my head down. Then spread my legs; moved my hands towards my ass and spreading my ass cheeks apart. After a few adjustments he inserted his cock again, I brought my hands towards the table. He started banging me from behind. His thighs slapping my back. I moaned as my hair kept falling and covering my face. I loved this doggie style fuck. He was about to cum and pulled out and started quickly stroking his dick. I turned back and kneeled before him took his entire cock in my mouth and started sucking it with vigor. I opened my mouth wide as he came, his warm fluid coating my face. His cum dribbled down my face to my shoulders and breasts. After that Bhushan became my fuck buddy. We fucked whenever there was an opportunity. I kept wondering how easy it was to take advantage of people who believed in absurdities. I would have never convinced Bhushan to sleep with me by providing logical and rational explanations. Dad kept giving me lectures on anti-superstition, scientific temperament and rationality. I kept using superstitions and got my share of fucking. Superstition Rising once more to pull off and discard her shorts and panties, she straddled his lap, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against her, and she leaned forward, feeding one of her breasts to his mouth, and grinding herself against him. The fact that she was out in the open, completely nude, didn't matter in the least. All that mattered was the man under her, and the pleasure he promised. Ashon lifted her to the side, slipped off his own shorts, and pressed her to the ground, suckling at her breast while one of his hands began to slowly stroke her inner thigh. With a sigh, she parted her legs for him, and he worked his way up to her pussy, already beginning to glisten in anticipation. Ashon's fingers began a slow dance, coming close, but never touching her clit. Teasing, slow circles with his fingertips, and he moved his lips from one breast to the other, now coming up to kiss her, and taste her mouth. The sun blinded her, but she felt him leave her mouth with regret, only to feel his lips trail their way down her body, stopping at her ribs, nibbling on her hip. His hands pushed her thighs apart and she felt a soft tickle as his hair brushed her legs, and then his tongue, lapping at her. He teased her with his tongue, much as he'd teased her with his fingers. Darra placed her hands on his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. Ashon finally starting circling her clit slowly, then faster, varying his rythym, listening to her breathing become ragged. He pointed his tongue and dipped it inside her, and her hands tightened on him, pulling at his hair with her hands. Ashon replaced his tongue with one of his fingers, sliding it in her slick pussy, and began to suck on her clit in earnest. Darra cried out in her first orgasm with a partner in years, bucking her hips and pulling his face into her. He moved back up her body, and kissed her, allowing Darra to taste herself on his tongue. She placed her palms on his chest, and he thought, at first, that she was pushing him away, but she pressed him down, with his back against the quilt, and threw her leg over him, sitting on his chest. He reached up with his hands and began stroking her sides, and then pinching her nipples between his fingers. Darra leaned over, again feeding him her breasts, then sliding her body down his. She reached between her legs and held his cock, stroking it slightly, and then sliding it into her. She rocked her hips, arching her back and Ashon felt the tips of her hair brush the tops of his thighs. He grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave bruises she would notice later, and began thrusting up into her, wanting to give her all he had. Darra reached behind her, pushing against his thighs for leverage, and met him, thrust for thrust. The sound of their bodies meeting, their ragged breathing, seemed to drown out the waterfall. Darra came again, harder this time, her muscles tensing, and her pussy pulsing around Ashon's cock. He felt her grip him even tighter, and his cock got almost impossibly hard. Slamming her down onto him, he arched his back and exploded inside her. Darra collapsed forward onto his chest, breathing hard, her breath just brushing his ear. Their hearts slamming in their chests, gradually growing slower, and the sweat from their bodies gluing them together, they were still for a moment. Ashon had almost fallen asleep when he heard faint voices. He roused Darra, hating to break the mood of intimacy they both obviously felt, but figured she wouldn't appreciate being seen by others the way he'd seen her. "Sweetheart, I think someone's coming. We need to put our stuff back on," he whispered. "Nah, let 'em look, who cares," she mumbled, almost asleep herself. Ashon pulled the edge of the quilt over them both, unwilling to believe she would really not care about being seen, but he chuckled at the thought. He had almost drifted off to sleep, when he heard her whisper, "I learned something today." "What's that?" Now he was curious. "I could see myself in your eyes, and...I'm beautiful." "Yes, you are, babe. Not a doubt in the world." Ashon gathered her close into his arms, smiling at her new confidence, and they slept, unaware of anything beyond the cocoon of the quilt they had made. His last coherent thought was that maybe there was something to that old folklore about the septimus child.