Little Indian Oyster

[In case there are readers who don't understand the reference to oysters, I suggest a websearch for "sex position viennese oyster."]

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For as long as he'd been visiting India, almost his entire adult life, Richard had admired Indian women and been fortunate to have had loving and intimate relationships with a number of them. He liked their secretive but highly developed sensuality and sexuality. He found they liked to be touched and held, caressed and cared for; and also to be penetrated, plunged, filled and satisfied. His special liking was for young adult women, not girls, who had maintained their figures and not "run to fat" which was a tendency among the class he'd often meet. Apart from their dark doe-eyed beauty, he admired the way many Indian women in the villages and jungle-communities moved, and the suppleness of their limbs and joints. You can see this whenever they squat to clean a floor, or grind corn, or separate grains, or do the laundry. It is as if their arms, shoulders, waists, hips and legs are trained to be supple and bendable from an early age, as part of their home domestic training. It seems not to be true of boys and men.

Richard would say that he was a journalist. In fact, no one ever saw any copy under his name, and he didn't mention any journals or magazines in his correspondence or in conversation. His source of income was a mystery, as was his daily, weekly or annual activity schedule. All his friends knew was that he spent three or four months every year in India. He was unmarried, had no children that anyone knew about, and had led a mainly solitary life in Europe with occasional female companions but never anyone with whom he became "an item." At the age of almost 50, Richard was an entertaining and amiable fellow, whom many liked but no one really understood. He said that he was English but most people could detect a slight and soft mainland European accent; Flemish perhaps or Swiss German.

In October 1994, Richard was in Kerala, South India. He'd told friends in UK that he was researching the backwaters of various rivers, where new holiday destinations and resorts were being planned by big tourist companies. He checked in at the newly-opened Residence Hotel in Cochin City, as it was then still called. In his mind, he knew the sexual adventures he was seeking at this visit; he'd two special experiences in mind. He'd developed them in his imagination over a period of weeks and months.

Earlier, in July 1993, Richard had visited the area and had noticed more than one pretty woman whom he hoped to meet again if possible. On his third day, Richard left Cochin for the Trivandrum district, not yet called by its unpronounceable politically-correct name of Thiruvananthapuram. He travelled in an 4WD with its attached hired driver. Whenever he'd driven in India he'd found it to be a stressful but exciting adventure at best and a maniacal nightmare at worst. Now he let others to do the driving.

In Trivandrum, he'd rented in advance a little bungalow for a month, in a secluded compound, near a big village or small town of perhaps 1000 dwellings [mostly shacks really] and their 8000 inhabitants. The township was newly-registered as a panchayat [self administering community] named Vengalapuram. After emptying his baggage, he paid off the driver and made sure there was a return booking for one month hence.

On the second day in his bungalow, having recovered from the travel, he spoke with the nearest village shopkeeper in his rudimentary Malayalam, the local language or dialect. It was arranged that a number of the young village women would appear at the bungalow that evening for selection as cook-cum-housekeeper for the duration of Richard's stay. At the appointed hour, four appeared; all very suitable as domestic staff but one caught his eye and his imagination immediately for her attractiveness and match to his plans. She was called Pinkie and was the eldest daughter of a farmer, left on the shelf after her three younger sisters had got married. In her community, this represented a serious disadvantage to her own eventual marriage and she'd had a love affair with some man or other, which further damaged her credit in the nuptials game.

He thought to himself, "Pinkie? What kind of name is that? Is it a nickname, a child-name that's stuck to her, or just an affectionate name that people give her for some reason I can't see?" Whatever the reason, Pinkie she was and Pinkie was his choice for housekeeper. A daily rate of pay was agreed, and the list of jobs to be completed each day. Arrive to make breakfast and enough food for the day, clean the floors and dust the surfaces, wash any clothing he left out and peg it on a line in the garden, and tidy his bedroom and bathroom. So she would arrive about 8.30am and leave well before it went dark, normally about 4.30pm.

For a week, Richard watched Pinkie and they became friendly in his simplified conversations, and they smiled at each other whenever their eyes met during each day. His scrutiny of Pinkie's figure and movements confirmed his initial observation and his plan. She was short, not above 5 feet in height, with straight limbs, beautiful unblemished olive coloured skin, her breasts were still girlish and her figure not really womanly but pleasing; he judged her to be about 28. She could squat and move around the floors easily as she cleaned them; sweeping ans swabbing as it was called. It was almost as if she was designed to ambulate in that way, just as easily as other people move around standing up or kneeling.

On the seventh day, she made his lunch and handed him a glass of water from the 20-litre "Bisleri" bottle he'd brought with him. It slipped between their hands, and his lap was drenched. She recoiled with frightened eyes, muttering her apologies. He stood, letting the water drain down his cream trousers and to his feet but, instead of showing anger, he reached out and placed his right arm around her shoulder. He squeezed gently and she knew there was no problem. She also liked to feel the strength of his arm, the firmness of his chest against her left breast, and the quiet confidential way he'd given her comfort. She smiled, at first to herself with eyes down, but then with upraised face and directly into his eyes

He let his arm unwind from her shoulders but did not take it away. Instead he placed both hands on her shoulders at arm's length and smiled at her; down at her because of her height. For a moment, she looked disconcerted and did not make any facial or body gesture, but then she smiled broadly back into his eyes. Continuing to look into hers, he slowly nodded with raised eyebrows as if to signify, "Yes? Maybe? Yes?" She slowly nodded back at him but with the sideways nod, popping her head to one side, used in India to indicate agreement or having been convinced or willing to try something or asking for more explanation. He knew the gesture very well and bent his elbows so that he took a step closer to her, and pressed her to him, her breasts now straight against his chest through the thin shirt. The ice was broken. He knew that he could start planning some pleasure for Pinkie and himself.

The next day, they touched each other a little each time they passed or came close in their movements about the bungalow. Richard was writing away on his electronic typewriter, and she was cleaning and cooking. Each time she passed him or he passed her they would reach out and touch fingertips. Or she'd place a little stroking movement on his shoulder. By the end of the day, he'd be free to lay his palm gently on her waist, or the back of his hand against the side of her face. And she, by then, would be pressing her fingers into his forearm whenever she brought his food or drink; feeling the hairs on his arms and the firmness of the muscles.

At the very end of the day, as she was preparing to leave for her father's house, they held each other close. Richard ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead, then her lips; gently with affection rather than passion at this stage but holding her head in his hands so that she couldn't pull away. And Pinkie, for her part, pulled him towards her, and wrapped her arms about his waist, tugging him against her breasts and her abdomen inside the wrappings of her South Indian style of sari. Then they both knew that sexuality had appeared in their friendship but only he knew what form it would be taking over the next few days and maybe weeks.

The next day, he told her to go home at midday and tell her father that she'd work a little late that evening, because there were to be visitors at the bungalow. Of course, she knew exactly what this meant and she complied without comment but with alacrity. In the afternoon, when she'd finished her housework in the rooms, he made his preparation for their first evening together. He placed cushions on the firm-mattressed big double bed, some lengths of soft rope under the pillows, a tube of surgical gel also under the pillow with the top pierced and ready to squeeze. Then he went to the bathroom and made sure the water supply was switched on, and that a bowl of soft soap was ready near the shower-bucket.

As the sun was setting, around 6.30 in the evening, Richard filled the bucket with warm water and called her. Pinkie went to him in the hallway between the living quarters and bedrooms. He reached out both hands and she took them. He led her into his bedroom; a room she had come to know very well from her daily cleaning and smoothing of the sheets, and fluffing the pillows. She noticed quickly as she entered that there were extra pillows on the bed and was happy that he had made provision for her greater comfort. She didn't realise that comfort may come at the start of the evening and at the end, but there could be a period of considerable discomfort for her at some point between. But ignorance is bliss in many aspects of human experience and that was the case here, for Pinkie. She felt happy at his preparations, as she saw them.

Richard quickly undressed himself, down to his dark blue briefs, and turned to undo her clothes. She helped him and within a minute she was naked but for her cream coloured shorts. Her smallbreasts stood firmly from her chest and he reached out to hold one and then the other with his right hand. She made a soft mewing sound as he held and pressed each breast upwards ever so slightly. They held each other and she could feel his erection pressing against her abdomen, even as he could feel her breast against his lower chest and her pubic bone against his thigh. They went together to the bathroom and stood in the shower area. He kneeled to remove her shorts and washed all of her body from shoulders to feet. As she stood to one side, draped in a big towel, he washed himself in the same way with the scoop and the soft soap. Then they were both spotless and both were excited as well.

He led her to the bedside and she lay down with her head on a pillow, near the headboard. He took hold of her under her thighs and shifted her down the bed so that she was lying flat without head support, and away from the headboard. This was unexpected for her, but not a worry, so she lay there awaiting his advances. She did not need to wait long and he kissed her all over her body from her forehead and face, to her legs, feet and toes; lingering over her breasts and over her pubic hair and pushing his lips between her legs to feel her labia. She was wet and ready for his erection. They both knew it would be soon.

From the bottom of the bed, having kissed her toes, he raised her knees and lay between her legs, supporting his own weight on his forearms either side of her waist. As he kissed her breast again and towards her face, he allowed his erection to slide gently up the insides of her legs until it was positioned against the waiting labia. She raised her arms and held his shoulders, and then wrapped them about his neck. As he slid himself into her, she pulled his head towards her face and they kissed at the exact moment that his glans parted her lips and entered her. Gently and smoothly. She was tight and they were one; and she felt part of a different world with this seemingly-wealthy, extremely fair-skinned European inside her and exciting her. He moved back and forth a few times to make sure her own lubrication was adequate for her tightness, and then shifted his position so that he was higher than before against her abdomen and his erection was pressing against the front edge of her lips and her clitoris. She felt the pressure and responded almost involuntarily, as her orgasm began to build up in her chest and then her groin. After a minute, it seemed like only seconds, she exploded into her first orgasm for many months. Her face tensed and her breath came raggedly for a few moments. Then she subsided and looked into his eyes, smiling the same smile as at their first embrace. Was it less than two days ago? She allowed her feelings to subside as her body collapsed onto the mattress, with no muscular tensions whatsoever.

Richard kept his upward movement so that her knees were then in the air, locked behind his advancing thighs, and her ankles followed. After only a few seconds, her feet were pointing to the ceiling, her knees were bent, and her thighs were flat against her torso. Balancing himself carefully so that his weight was shared between his knees and his lying against the back of her thighs, he reached down for her hands and pulled them gently through her knees and towards his face. He pressed her hands against his face and nodded as if to say, "Keep them here."

Now she was ready for his serious assault on her suppleness and on her free jointedness. He took one ankle in each hand, took his erection out of her and leaned forward so that her feet began to go past either shoulder. With his weight and strength, her feet touched the bed behind her ears, and her shoulders were in front of her knees. Her hands were still wrapped around his neck as he leaned on her contorted body with his full weight. All this had been accomplished without either of them making any sound. She did not whimper with discomfort, nor display any sensation other than interest and surprise. Richard was slightly out of breath. While holding her in this position, he reached under a pillow and gathered the three lengths of the soft rope. One he quickly and adeptly used to tie her ankles together behind her head. After a moment, he took her hands and spread out her arms either side of her body, inside her upturned and stretched thighs. With the other two lengths of rope, he tied each of her elbows to each of her thighs. Within a few seconds she was tied into this most extreme position and there was no way she could unwind herself. Her hands touched the bed on either side of her body; her feet touched the bed behind her head; her head was resting on her feet.

Richard looked into her eyes and chanced a smile. Amazingly, and to his extreme pleasure, she smiled back. Not the massive beam of earlier smiles but a definite toothy grin all the same.

He was amazed as well as excited to see Pinkie's lissom body bent and trussed in this highly-exposed position, and she unable to move hardly a muscle. His mind raced ahead with his pleasures to come, but he suppressed the urge to speed forward in his planned penetration and exploration of Pinkie's delightful insides. Richard had only two previous experiences of the oyster, in all his many years as a lover and aficionado of women. The first had been a real discovery with a professional contortionist, from a travelling troupe of acrobats. She was Juliette and had put herself into the oyster position. She'd invited him into her, and led him through the intricacies of sex with an immobilised and contorted female body. From that moment, he had sought the opportunity again.

The second experience was not a success although it should have been. Maria was a competition gymnast who had won medals for her contortions on the beam and in the hanging rings. But as he had pressed her limbs into the oyster position she had started to complain. Before he had made any progress with her feet near her head, she was crying with discomfort and becoming more tense with every second. Both soon lost their expectations or enthusiasm for any form of sexual encounter, and she left complaining about his brutish behaviour. She threatened to inform the police of his assault on her, although nothing came of that and he didn't see her again. Since then, he had planned another oyster-moment and worked out in his mind the problems and solutions to achieving it with a novice who was, nonetheless, very supple and willing to undergo his persuasion, as he called it to himself.

But now, everything was different. Quite different. Pinkie was pliant in body and compliant with his wishes. He looked at her again in erotic amazement and shifted his attention to her pubic region. Because of the positioning of her legs and lower abdomen, her labia were wide open and he could see the wet slickness of her earlier orgasm. In fact, so widely spread were her labia that he could look into her vagina; the vestibule was open and he could just see the ridges inside her passageway. This was the origin of the term "Viennese Oyster," he felt sure. Her whole vulva region was exposed to him, just like an oyster shell that had been opened to display the luscious meat within. Her body was inviting him in, and he accepted her invitation. He reached under the pillow and squeezed some lubricant onto his middle finger, before gently and slowly spread it into the crack of her vagina.

Raising himself to a good alignment, Richard positioned his erection close to her opening and slowly eased himself down until he was sliding into her. Then he reached out above her head and took her ankles in his hands again; this time they were tied together and he rested his palms on the rope as well as on soles of her feet. He pressed down on her feet and she contorted even further, now with her head in line with her calves rather than behind them. His full weight was on her and he lifted his feet off the bed, rocking forward onto and into her body. Pinkie was supporting him by her vagina and her feet above her head. She grunted and breathed out. He glanced at her face and saw that her eyes were staring wide open and her mouth was gasping for air. Now the gentle and comfortable lover had brought his woman to a level of discomfort and apprehension. He knew it and she realised it for the first time. He also knew that she couldn't be kept in that position for long so he determined to bring himself to climax as soon as he could. He removed some of the weight from her; plunged and plunged his erection, thrust and thrust his body, arched and arched his spine into an athletic spring, until he felt his orgasm growing through his torso and into his groin. Then his testicles and prostate emptied themselves into her and he cried out softly but clearly, "Aaarrrgh." Then he offered a little prayer in praise of this beautiful and pliant woman, "Delightful. Lovely. Wonderful Pinkie."

He lifted himself out of her and off her body. She relaxed a little and looked into his eyes for the first time since the nervous smile nearly one hour ago. Quickly, he reached to her thighs and untied her arms, and above her head and pulled the bow that held her ankles in position. He was careful not to allow her body to spring back into its normal position, but he eased her feet and legs down until she was lying flat again. She breathed easily again but also put her hands down to rub her hip joints that had been stretched even further than the most extreme or prolonged daily squat had ever required. He took over the massage of each of her joints, and kissed her everywhere that had been tied. The rope marks were clearly visible and he spent extra time kissing and gently rubbing them. She lay beside him, with her eyes closed, and making little sounds in her throat and her nose. He couldn't tell if they were the noises of complaint or the sounds of appreciation. He hoped it was the latter.