A Fucing Investment

Chapter 9

Vidya Ketteridge—Fucking the Belly Dancer

Vidya Ketteridge was from the sub-continent of India by way of Britain where she had married the weasel, St. John Ketteridge. He married her for her money. She married him to spite her father or mother or both, so any cock would have sufficed equally well. In retrospect, she likely thought many cocks would have been much better than what she ended up with.

Her parents were furious with her engagement and marriage to a 'nothing'. They were not able to keep her grandfather from bequeathing a small fortune to her and in like manner she was not able to keep the narcissistic Ketteridge from frittering it away. It was a common theme among the women of Holdingsfield, bad marriages and lost fortunes. Good for me, bad for them but then again, maybe not.

I was going to go see Vidya the afternoon after I mounted Jennifer Simpson on the kitchen table. But as I walked down the street towards her house, her husband stormed out cursing, yelling something about 'fuck you' over his shoulder, jumped into his little truck and sped away, squealing tires and such. It was about 5 so I walked on by. I did not want to inject myself onto a good cry. Short term benefits, maybe but long term, it was a loser.

I went to the little park and pond the neighborhood supported and walked. The afternoon light was dimming, turning orange and chasing darkness. I had worked most of the afternoon after Ms. Simpson fluttered out my front door with her funny little 'I just got fucked' walk. I was at a loss as to how to approach Vidya and the clock was ticking so I was about to settle on the 'go knock on the door and make the offer' approach I defaulted to when something clever did not present itself. I perfected this 'just do it' approach in business and it had worked on several occasions. With Vidya, however, I wanted something different, more elegant, more surprising and delightful. I considered waiting for inspiration, delaying my approach. Then I glimpsed her in the distance through an upstairs window.

I was standing on the berm of dirt that formed a dam for the pond and allowed me to see over the low band of lilac bushes bounding that side of the park. I was gazing at Vidya's house across the access road in the back and the side yard of the neighbors which was sufficiently clear to allow me to see into the upstairs windows of her house. I stared at her house, pondering my next move, waiting for inspiration and it came.

Vidya appeared in an upstairs window. As I watched, she began to disrobe. I fumbled for the pen telescope I carried which gave good magnification. When I put I to my eye, I gazed on her behind, her glorious ass. For a moment the woman stood with her back to me, holding up an outfit before turning and showing me her body. Then she turned, I guess letting the light from the dying day illuminate the outfit she held and I could see her bare body clearly; her breasts stood out from her body and swayed like she was underwater. She was not tall but the lines of her body were sensuous and smooth. She donned a classic Middle Eastern belly dancing costume, slipping on a piece at a time till she covered her body with sparkling bangles and wispy scarves. Vidya put her hands above her head, weaving them together and her ass swiveled around in a huge circle as though her legs were not touching the floor. The sari-like skirt shifted and then she disappeared. She was far away but my plan to go knock on the door and offer to discuss her situation changed at least for the moment. I wanted a closer look. I wanted see who she was dressing for and get a better look at what she was wearing.

I walked hurriedly up to the access road, the gate prevented vehicle access and was easy to climb around. I found the gate to her yard and, hoping it was unlocked, tried the latch. It opened. I am not sure what I hoped to find but my expectations were exceeded by what greeted me when I peered in the gate. A large patio stretched nearly the length of her curving house, hooded on each end by trees and second story porches. A sweep of grass populated with a mixture of modern art sculptures and ancient Hindu images with huge bare breasts or six arms provided the view to the large bank of windows looking in on the main living space at the middle of the house.

When I stepped inside the gate, the first thing I noticed was the exotic (to me) music, Middle Eastern music that throbbed out of the house. Through the sliding glass doors, I saw her for the first time. She was dancing. Her arms twining together above her like two charmed cobras, as though there were no bones in them at all. Her head turned from left to right and back again, showing one eye and then the other to me, one side then the other of her one eyebrow and each time, the glittering 'third eye' ruby embedded in her forehead just above the bridge of her thin, Indian nose. Her lips were smiling. Her eyes seemed focused on a distant nirvana which both beckoned and eluded her. Those eyes were both sad and suffused with longing. And she appeared alone. I peered into the spattered shadows of the house and saw no sign of anyone else. She was indeed, alone.

I strode closer. Her ass began to shake impossibly fast as if the music demanded a response. Her arms flowed out to her sides, extended horizontally while her hands waved and fluttered. As I approached, my eyes were pulled to her shaking hips and the jangle of the metal fringes of her scarlet and gold outfit reached me. Her legs went heel to toe and back again, shifting her hips to one side then the other while they continued to shake, a complex of two motions. She changed from a side to side swaying of her hips into a rippling front to back motion could suggest only the copulation motion of a woman in the throes of erotic passion. Her liquid motion mesmerized and fire imagination and passion in me.

I moved up to within a few feet of the glass, washed in the light from the room, clearly visible to anyone looking. Vidya had a long veil woven into her cascade of black hair. She may have been five four or five five maybe. She was barefoot. Her back was to me and all I could see was her sari encased hips. They were not visible really, but their motion demanded imagination. I was so struck by her body and the dance it was doing, I was so out of breath, so entranced, all I could manage was a breathless stare. I was too helpless even to respond to her, held in perfect sway by her gesticulating body, all motion and sexy curves surrounded by a penumbra of floating wispy scarves.

Her ass cheeks were shaped and bunched to form globes. When she arched to one side or the other, her hip would form a small shelf accenting the shape and size of her ass. The flesh was firm and tight, flowing from action to action without hesitation or wasted motion. The ass was so dominant that I expected her legs to be fat to support it but when they appears in the momentary gaps in her costume, they appeared slim, muscular to be sure but shapely and tight, perfect extensions of the undulating ass, swathed in the diaphanous gold and scarlet of her costume. She turned in a clicking circle, arms out and then she raised one leg and turned like the sweep hand on a clock face, the leg straight out from her body. She began to turn, bobbing up and down on her toes. At first, her body ticked around the circle, moving from position to position, keeping time with the world and the music. Then having circled completely several times, she dissolved into a whirling dervish, twirling and spinning, her head clicking with each revolution from side to side. The music pulsed around her, reaching out to me and pulling at me. She slowed and stopped, facing me. My eyes remained on her vigorous hips, twitching left and right, then slowing and flowing into a circular motion that thrust each hip impossibly high to each side, bulging without folding the flesh of her sides, her body perfectly suited to the arousing motions of her hips.

My lust-numbed brain finally constructed the fact that she must be able to see me through the screen door through which I was watching her. I looked up from her quaking ass. Vidya was staring at me, an intense stare, eyes fixed on me with a half-smile. But when my eye met hers, she smiled and tossed her head first to one side then the other, her hair flying behind her and the scarf floating till the switching motion jerked it in a new direction. Her smile was blinding and her white teeth shattered the dark, brooding image of exotic erotica that her dance defined. Though she smiled, her eyes retained a shattered look in them, reflecting what I knew to be true about her situation. To find her dancing in this strikingly sensual manner, alone and with such intensity pulled at me and made what I was seeing seem like some ritual before a bloodthirsty god, as though she were a virgin, dancing for her life before they broke her childhood and took her life with the two swords of some brutal religion.

Her hips swung as though on an impossible pivot. The scarves and drapes of her costume whipped about, never settling but always in the air, drifting like cigar smoke in a closed room. Yet for all the motion the costume presented, it covered the lines of her body, suggesting a boundary or muscle at the limit of each impossible movement but showing nothing. My ears finally came back on, and the tinkle of the bells and metal trim jangled with the music, creating a metallic rustle underneath the instrumentation of the song.

Her eyes bored into me and her hands gestured at me, fingers wide and twitching while her hips shook from side to side. Then abruptly, she turned away from me, showing me her shaking ass. I opened the screen door, sliding it open, stepped inside and closed it. Vidya's head turned and she caught me with one eye. She turned her back to me. Then the rush of the music changed, the crashing percussion, frantic electronica and nasal Eastern flute faded; replaced by the swelling of a string melody which seized hold of her hips and began to push them forward and back. The motion began just below her breasts, high up her back; her ass thrust forward in a fluid motion and then it would snap forward the last inch or two, like the crack of a whip. Then it flowed back towards me, sensuously arching backwards till the scarves about her waist parted and I could see the bare flesh of her hips. Vidya would freeze for just a single beat, showing me her body. Then her ass would pop backwards; the scarves would fly high like flamingos flushed from the rushes of a shallow primal river. Every piece of metal decorating her body would plink and tink together and then the motion reverted to the other direction. She must have been moving the center of her pelvis two feet back and forth. Her back rippled with the effort.

All the while her head was turned, straining towards me, her one visible eye cocked completely into the corner but her head was still, while her lower body writhed beneath her. I crossed the intervening space, stopping only when I was close enough to touch her. My cock was engorged and poling my trousers. I wanted to speak, to curse her or demand or command but the music beguiled and her weaving body silenced me. She stared at me with that intense one-eyed stare she could manage over her shoulders, bringing her ass back to within inches of my erect cock and then retreating. I stripped off my shirt and tossed it to the floor. Vidya pulled a yellow scarf from the side of her costume and tossed it onto my shirt. I kicked off shoes and dropped my pants, stripping off underwear and socks and deposited them on the other side of her revealing my long, hard erection. She covered my clothing with another, scarlet scarf. I stood before her, naked while her body thrashed before me, possessed by the music and possessing me to the core.

Finally, I heard the music begin to modulate, shifting keys in anticipation of some change. I put both hands out and when her ass approached me again, I lay them on her hips. She became completely still. The music changed. The flow of the sitar dropped to nearly nothing and the percussion returned, throbbing drums and tambourines bound together with a wriggling Eastern flute. Yet she did not move. I pulled a bit but she did not budge, instead my body shuffled forward and the end of my cock crept into the cleft of her mighty ass. Her ass began to shake, but without moving, without unsettling my hands clasped gently on the upper slope of each hip. Vidya's hands extended to each side, even with her shoulders, fluttering like pennants in a victorious wind and then she began to bend from the waist. From her narrow, impossibly small waist, at the horizon-line of her ass which divided upper torso from lower body. Her ass cracked and her pussy appeared as she bent lower. The ass shook under my hands with impossible motion originating in the muscles. Her skin was slick and I could smell her musk, the dank aroma of arousal that hung in the air. I pulled on her hips, pressing my cock against her body.

The shaking lessened and she began to move her body up and down till the head of my cock encountered her pussy. I felt it and her eye closed while her lips pulled back into a demanding rictus, then her head whipped around and down, out of sight as her shoulders fell. Her back arched and her cunt parted for the head of my cock. There, perched on me like a falcon waiting to be released to the kill, she hesitated, waiting as the music surged around us. The music changed course and began to ripple with staccato crash after crash, with all the instruments descending down to smash against the bottom registers. Vidya matched that with her ass, pounding it down, over and over onto my extended cock. Neither of us touched my cock with our hands. She adjusted her hips, moving them up, down and side to side, gripping, adjusting and nudging till the penis behind her was perfectly positioned and was slicing into her quivering body over and over again. She was completely bent. She was a headless thing for her head was bowed out of my sight below her heaving shoulders.

Till that moment, my hands had been riding the motion of her ass but I sensed both a need in her and the consummation in the music. My fingers tightened on her ass and when the music crashed one last time, I pulled her ass back and finally penetrated her body to its simmering core. I buried myself all the way inside her heaving, gasping body in the resulting silence.

"Aaaiiiiiyaaaahhhh!" She shrieked. But she did not move. My cock soaked in her roiling depths. I finally began to withdraw from her body. She was posed in an impossible position, hands extended, fingers still but tensed, head out of sight below her arched body. I began to stroke my cock in and out of her stock-still body. Nothing of hers moved except for the bit of sway my hands forced on her. Into her seething depths I pumped my cock, over and over, deep into her, pressing my body against her wondrously firm ass, pulling back on her hips so that our bodies slapped together in the silence.

"Aaaaiiiiyyyaaaahhhhh, yes!" Vidya screamed. "Oh shag me! Fuck me with your cock!" She panted in a distinct British accent as I continued to pound into her. Her hands dropped and she was bent over, her hands on ground. Then her knees buckled and she threatened to fall away from me. I followed her to the floor, holding her up and slowing the descent which allowed me to control it and keep my cock hooked inside her taut pussy. Then she was on her knees and I knelt behind her and resumed fucking her. Her face descended onto her forearms and she arched her body against me.

I continued the motion, the stroke, the pistoning of male cock into female pussy. I became more and more profound, striking her hard with my body till finally she began to grunt with the conclusion of each down stroke as it pounded my cock into the depths of her body. She swayed on her knees, parting from me as I withdrew and then meeting my penetration with a force of her own, accentuated by my hands pulling her home onto my throbbing cock. I could feel the steaming flesh of her cunt as I penetrated it, hard. I would hesitate and move my body around, stirring her inner flesh with my rigid prick. Her hips countered the motion with a waving, weaving motion of their own and then we would pull apart, only to slam back together again in a concussion of pleasure. Then I pulled free of her sluicing body. For a moment she leaned back, seeking the penetrating cock. Not finding it, she rose up on her hands and looked over her shoulder at me. Her eye was questioning.

I put a hand on one hip and pushed at her. "On your back." I said softly.

She rolled, dropping to her back and pulling her knees towards each shoulder. Her ass coated the floor, forming a cushion that framed her cluttered pussy. Her brown skin was black in the growing night. I sorted through the jumbled costume, pulling scarves away from between her legs and lifting the drapes till her flowing center was visible. I shuffled forward, directed my cock to the entrance of her pussy and shoved into her, emphatically. She grunted as I penetrated her and her body curled up to meet me. Our first kiss was fire and lava, her lips flowed against me sealing my breath in me while her tongue lashed my lips till they parted and we danced privately, out of sight. I grunted from the sexiness of her kiss and jerked my hips at her just once.

That single motion set something off in her. Till that moment, her hands had been holding my chin and face while she kissed me. When I struck her with my cock that one thrust, she broke the kiss and her head snapped back. "Aaaaiiiieeeeyyyaaaahhhh!" She shrieked, dropping flat on her back. Her hands pressed against the floor. Her hips shifted against me and then abruptly began to surge at me with short, hard, swift strokes. Her ass flexed and lifted me bodily off the floor, till she was arched on shoulders and feet. While flexed, her ass shimmied and convulsed on my stiff dick, still snuggly fitted into her body. Then I clasped her ass hard with both hands and pulled at that mighty ass, forcing my cock against the back of her vagina. She shuddered, made a 'glugging' sound, half choke, half swallow and then her body dropped as if all her muscles had failed at once. I landed on top of her with a surprising force and her body jerked and jerked and jerked, without order or pattern. Her feet were planted flat on the carpet and from there, she directed her body's motion as she fucked me from below. Vidya was keening now. Her arms stole inwards to loop about my neck.

I had firm hold of her incredible ass which was flexing and convulsing beneath my grip, the motions were communicated directly to my cock rooted inside her seething body. I clasped my hands to her huge cheeks and banged us together. My fingers sunk into her cheeks, squeezing her against me. Her ass tightened with the motion. I lifted up and she sighed, exhaling and then I pounded my cock home again, deep into her pliant body, feeling the stringent binding of her pussy along the length of my iron cock. Over and over I pounded her body with mine, pubic bone to pubic bone, cock in pussy. My hands grasped her by the shoulders, leaving me only my elbows to stand on over top of her. Vidya's head was shaking back and forth, jerking far to one side while her mouth stretched wide in a silent scream. She would hold that pose for several strokes before jerking far to the other side and clamping her jaws together and blowing through her nose like a winded thoroughbred.

We did this for several minutes, till my climax began to build. I increased speed, cranking my cock into her over and over again with no hesitation or abatement. As I plunged my rigid cock into Vidya, we rocked on her ass rolling up and back with the motion the music inspired no longer. My hands on her shoulders shifted her body down against my thrusts, crushing us together. Her body would move but her ass remained in the same place on the floor. Her voice was a constant wail of vowels, which would occasionally part for an emphatic 'oh fuck!' or 'shag me!' in her pretty British accent, with which she would extend her pussy as high as possible and hold for a stroke or two before dropping her ass back to the carpet where I continued to hammer her. My orgasm arrived with a mind-numbing intensity and I planted my cock and held it deep inside her pussy as it erupted, spewing into the body below me. Viday was completely penetrated, pinned beneath my quaking body. She shivered and then her legs lifted, abandoning her pussy to my orgasm. Her legs wrapped about me and squeezed, forcing me harder against her and then she was shrieking loudly, screaming vowels and pleading with me to fuck her till she announced she was coming, 'Aggggaaaaiiinnnnnnnnnn!" Then she rose, pasting her mouth to mine, curling to meet me in the air. She shuddered again, her body heaving, she grunted and shivered. We shook together on her ass. Then we both collapsed.