My wife met a newly graduated malitary woman, Jaya Devakaran in Kochi in India and instantly fell in lovr with her. She invited her to visit on her days off. Shyamala had arranged for an African friend to come over and have sex with her. The neighbours had informed the Hindu Nationalists that my wife was often visited by blach men...so they were waiting. On the appointed date, Shyamala photographed Jaya and the African having sex. When they went for dinner at a local restaurant, the fundamelists broke into the flat and stole the camera. They put Jaya's pictures up on the internet...branding her a "Niggar lover" (sic). Shyamala bribed for Jaya to get a transfer to a remote part of India, where there was no internet to start a new life.
I met Jaya Devakarn in August 2003; she had just finished her army training in Chandigarh and had a bright future ahead of her. She was from a long line of military personnel stretching way back to her great grandfather. At secondary school, she was a cadet. Upon graduation from the military academy, she was posted to Fort Kochi in Kerala. I was on a tour of the historical fort with some visiting guests from the UK and Jaya’s comely persona caught my eyes. Neatly dressed in her military fatigues and boasting a fit body and a charming smile made me strike up a conversation with her. I soon invited her to visit me at my flat in Guruvayoor on her day off, and she readily accepted my invitation.
When Jaya arrived at my flat, she had just come off a long arduous 12-hour shift, but she looked radiant. This proved to me that she was a true military professional. I was pleased at how fresh she looked, because it was needed for my plans. I had an invited an African student, Mwanasokoloko to visit my flat that evening and meet her. Mwanasokoloko was studying mechanical engineering in Kozhikode. I was convinced that he would have been impressed with her.
I explained to Jaya that I had an African friend who was going to drop in later that evening, and that I wanted her to meet him, she did not resist. She looked a bit nervous, but I assured her that she was beautiful, with a smashing figure, everything a black man looks for in a woman! As she showered, I sent a text message to Mwanasokoloko to tell him that the Indian he was going to fuck was within my confines.
Jaya undressed, showered and freshened up. While all of this was going on, I told her that I was feeling lazy to cook and that we were going to go to the Parivaar restaurant later for dinner. She was pleasantly surprised at such gesture. A change from the monotonous military barracks diet I surmised.
As Jaya exited the shower, I explained how Africans in Kerala found female companionship hard to come by, and if they did, the racism made them scared to do anything more than talk with the girl. She admitted that she was aware of such fact. I explained to her that I was fucking blacks from the age of 12, and that I had never regretting doing so. I even went on to stress that sex with a black man could soon become an addiction. The energy and attention they gave to an Indian woman was second to none. Her giggles signalled to me that she was becoming receptive to sex.
I further went on to say that I like to photograph such acts so that I can write about them and publish the incidents later to help to bridge the racial divide. Surprisingly, she retorted that she was honoured to become such an integral part of that humanitarian gesture. I was overjoyed.
I had just fitted a new dimmer switch in the sitting room, so that I can dim the light and allow them to get intimate. I hastily tested it, and it worked!
Thank God, such fittings are renowned for not working first time. I read its success as a reflection of the evening to come.
At the appointed time, 7:30PM exactly, my doorbell rang. Mwanasokoloko was there holding a bunch of 15 pink roses in his hand. As he entered the house, he hid the roses behind his back. When I introduced him to Jaya, he went down n his knees and handed her the roses.
Jaya was visibly shocked. She spoke to me in our Indian language that no man had ever given her roses before. She went on to say that the African was civilised, and he knew how to spoil a woman. I left them sitting on the sofa talking, excused myself to go and shower. However, before leaving the room, I dimmed the light, whispering, and “more conducive for romantic chatter!” They giggled.
After showering, as I re-entered the sitting room, I noticed that the light was even dimmer.
I did not pay much attention, thinking it was the contrast between the bright bathroom light and the dim sitting room light that made it look that way. Despite the dimness, I noticed that Mwanasokoloko was rubbing Jaya’s back and that she was stroking his thighs, perilously close to his cock.
Such racial harmony made me feel proud to be an Indian in the 21st century, and more so to be orchestrating happiness in the lives of two people from entirely different cultures. Little did I know that while all this was taking place, the racist Hindu Nationalists were nearby hatching a sinister plot? They had seen Mwanasokoloko enter the building, and the neighbours had informed them that I had a penchant for African men, having seen my previous visitors and detest their presence in the neighbourhood. Jaya and Mwanasokoloko were not aware of this and the romantic heat was palpable. They started kissing. I could hear the saliva being exchanged in the now darkened room. The sound of a zipper opening punctuated the romantic hum, and then Jaya spoke. “My god, this think is a monster, are all Africans this big?” She giggled then continued, “Your women must be well stretched?” A flattered Mwanasokoloko replied, “My pretty Oriental Queen, would you like to kiss it?” From that I could surmise that he was asking Jaya to suck his cock. Jaya replied, “Yes please, I’ll try, although it might stretch my mouth painfully.” That was the cue for me to rush to the bedroom and grab my Sony camera. I heard Jaya making a gurgling sound, and I realised that she was sucking her lovers cock.
I immediately fired off a series of shots. They were so immersed into each other that they did not even notice the diffused flash going off.
Mwanasokoloko was basking in the attention he was receiving. He spoke in a dazed manner, “My god Jaya dear, you suck cock so well, it feels as if you have done this all of your life. How would you like to ride it? Would you like to feel it in your sweeeeeet Indian pussy?” Jaya replied, “Yes please, but wait, I want to do something I’ve seen in porn films.” A surprised Mwanasokoloko enquired, “And what might that be my pretty queen?” Without hesitation, Jaya confidently replied, “I want to feel it up my ass!” Mwanasokoloko replied, “Ok then, climb on top let me bugger your ass!” With that, she pulled her panties off and straddled the erect cock. I could hear her strain to take the cock in her ass, as she said, “Aaaaaaaah, it hurts, but my hormones are flowing....I need to be fucked badly, fuck my ass my sweet lover, fuck me deeeeeeeeep!!!!!” There was silence, and then Jaya continued, “Oh god, it feels so good. Fuck me babe, fuck me. I’m aroused now, fuck me!!!”
I fired off a few more images.
The scene was too much for me. I was wet with love juice flowing in my pussy. I needed a black man to fuck me also. To kill the feeling, I went to the balcony and smoked a cigarette.
I could not resist the urge to masturbate. I needed a fuck so badly...I needed a black man there and then. After I had lit my cigarette, I started fingering my pussy until I reached my orgasm.....My god, it was so refreshing!!!! When I looked up from the balcony, I could see a large moon looking down at me, it was so clear; I could count the individual craters on it.
Refreshed and satiated, I returned to the sitting room. Jaya and Mwanasokoloko were still at it. They had changed position. Mwanasokoloko had now lifted Jaya up and impaled her on his cock.
I fired off a few more images.
After what must have been 75 minutes, I heard them reaching their orgasms in unison. It was now 9:30PM, the restaurant closed at 11PM. I switched on the light and interrupted by saying, “Come on you love birds, we need to eat, I’m hungry!” Jaya hurriedly rushed to the bathroom for a shower while Mwanasokoloko sat on the sofa bed with a rock hard erection. I gave him a wet towel to wipe himself clean.
As Jaya came out of the shower, she asked me to do her manicure and pedicure. I readily complied. She was pleased and said that the manicure and pedicure were the work of a professional. As Jaya got dressed, she found time for a quick cigarette.
The three of us were the last customers in Parivaar restaurant. By the time dinner was over, it was 11:45PM. Mwanasokoloko escorted us to the gate of my apartment block then he left for his hotel. As we approached my flat, I noticed that the door was ajar and the light was on. I could have sworn that I had closed the door and switched the lights off.
As we entered the flat, I was shocked. It was turned upside down. The racist Hindu Nationalists had broken in and stolen my camera. Then they left a note on the sofa bed, it read, “YOU NIGGAR (sic) LOVERS, WE WILL TEACH YOU A LESSON. YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO INDIA!”
A week later, my images were on the internet. Life for Jaya was not the same. Her friends at the army barracks stopped talking to her, and avoided her.
Jaya was contemplating committing suicide. I reassured her that I’ll find her a plausible solution.
I immediately pleaded to commanding officer Commander Das Gupta for an audience. I explained the problem Jaya was facing. I requested that he gave her free transfer to a rural part of India where there was no internet connection. He said the only two places remaining were Ladakh on the Chinese border, and the Sundarbans on the Bangladeshi border. I asked for 12 hours to think about the two options, he agreed. I discussed it with Jaya and she chose the Sundarbans, as the climate was warmer, and it was within travelling distance of Kolkata. I phoned Com Das Gupta and accepted the Sundarbans. He hurriedly arranged transfer documents for Jaya. I had to bribe him $US 7,000 for such favour. Within four days, Jaya was off to start a new life in the remote Sundarbans mangrove forest of the Ganges Delta.
Jaya settled in well and got on with her new life. Family pressure was on her to get married. They had threatened to abandon her if she did not get married. She complied and married an illiterate fisherman called Gokulambabu. They had a contented life. He fished long hours with his brother Tawarajah.
At every month’s end, after receiving her salary, Jaya made the arduous journey into Kolkata to stock up on essential supplies. Kolkata, being a large city, had a cosmopolitan population. She was able to meet up with African students and have the sex she appreciated ever since her first meeting with Mwanasokoloko.
She is also able to answer her email, so once a month; I look forward to Jaya’s mail as much as she looked forward to sex with the African students.
The rest of the month, sex life is boring. Gokulambabu has a very low libido and an extremely small cock. So Jaya has resorted to masturbating using the plethora of fruits and vegetables available in the Sundarbans. She has admitted to choosing a fruit or vegetable which reminds her of a black man’s cock.
Living in the remote Sundarbans allows her to have a bath in the open air in the nude. This she does very often and has found it to be therapeutic.
After a year, I visited Jaya in her remote location. She seemed happy. I took her a present from the UK, a vibrator to help her with her masturbation, she was very grateful.
Jaya is contemplating starting a family, but is not too sure if Gokulambabu is the right genetic pool to be the father of her offspring. Ideally, she would like an African to be the father. She is asking my advice on this pivotal issue. I’m procrastinating....and not offering a ready answer. I would like a black man to become the father of my child also!!!!!