"Please come in," Dr. Singh said to Camilla. She walked into his apartment, and he looked around the hallway, hoping no gossipy neighbours saw this beautiful naked exhibitionist come into his home. She took off her high heels and left them by the door.
"What a nice home you have, doctor," she said, still in that breathy imitation of Marilyn Monroe that she knew he liked. In his living room, he had an extensive library of books on a huge bookshelf covering an entire wall, with only a TV in the centre and DVDs on the shelves above it, all these together making an isthmus between the two oceans of books. To the left of the TV and DVDs were all medical books in Hindi and English; to the right were books, in Hindi, Sanskrit, and English, of a variety of scholarly subjects. These included such Hindu sacred texts as the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Mahabharata, and other literature like the Kama Sutra. Also there were books on philosophy (including Schopenhauer), literature (including Shakespeare's complete works), and history (including Tacitus'
Annals of Imperial Rome
). Most of the books were old and had clearly been read by him already, so there was no reason to believe that the books sat there merely to look impressive. Camilla was in awe of the doctor's obvious intelligence, and since for her 'smart is the new sexy', she now wanted to have sex with him all the more.
"Are you a reader, too, Camilla?" he asked, trying to look in her eyes and not at her statuesque nude body.
"Not like you," she answered with her eyes and mouth agape.
"Dinner is just about ready," he said. "Your timing is perfect." As is your body, he thought. "I'll go into the kitchen and get the dish. Please come sit at the dining table." He went into the kitchen.
She walked over to the dimly-lit dining area and saw the table settings on opposite sides of the table, in the middle of which were lit candles. She moved her setting--a glass of red wine, a plate and a knife and fork--to the middle of the table and sat down on the chair there. This way when he sat with her, she would be at two o'clock from his vantage point. She saw on the wall, by the chair where he would sit, was a small altar to the gods Shiva and Parvati.
When he came in the dining area holding a small pot of food, he asked, "Why did you move to the middle of the table?"
"So you could see my body better as we eat."
"Well, that was very considerate of you," he said as he put portions of the food on her plate and his. He then put the empty pot back in the kitchen and returned to sit with Camilla.
"What is this?" she asked. "It looks delicious."
"It's a lamb curry dish called 'Rogan Josh', he explained. "'Rogan' means 'oil', and 'Josh' means 'heat, hot, boiling, or passionate'."
"Sounds like my kind of food." She grinned slyly as she put some in her mouth. "Mmm...spicy!" She licked her lips like a cat.
"I'm glad you like it," he said as he started to eat. He took furtive glances at her lovely nakedness as she ate. Always wanting to be a gentleman in spite of his lust, he hoped she wouldn't see his ogling eyes, even though she'd done nothing other than encourage ogling. Of course, she saw his leering out of the corners of her eyes, and she deliberately pushed out her behind and curved her spine inward so he could see clearly what undulating curves she had. Oh, how he wanted to taste that soft, sweet, peach-coloured skin! Still, he had to remember to be gentlemanly, even though she wasn't exactly being a lady in the classic sense.
"I've always wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your defence of me against those kids who make fun of my accent," he said.
"I feel obligated," she said. "They don't make
you
lose face: they make us
Canadians
lose face."
"Still, I thank you for caring. I've been a lonely man these five years in Canada, so far away from my family in India. It touches my heart to see such a beautiful girl show me consideration." He fought back some sobs.
She grinned, shook her head and threw her hair back to make her breasts wiggle while saying, "Thank you."
"Thank
you
," he said, holding up his wine glass. They clicked their glasses together and drank.
"There's no reason to make fun of Indians," she said. "You have a fascinating culture: your art, music, spirituality. And people everywhere love Bollywood movies."
"Well, Bollywood isn't the best India has to offer in cinema, but our Sanskrit literature is something I'm proud of. There have even been Western scholars who have said Hindu poetry and philosophy are far superior to that of ancient Greece."
"Wow, you're smart," she said, beaming at him.
When they finished their dinner, he took the dishes back into the kitchen, insisting that she, as his guest, not help him. He came back and asked her how she liked the lamb curry.
"It was delicious," she said. Getting up from her chair so he could see all of her, she then asked: "Can you examine me now, doctor?"
"Certainly," he said, breathing heavily. They went over to the living room sofa, where he sat. She sat on the coffee table and spread her legs. He turned on some nearby lamps to get a better look. He also took out his penlight to see inside her vagina. He knew, as did she, that there were no warts in there at all; but he'd enjoy looking anyway, and she'd enjoy showing him.
"The
yoni
is an important Hindu symbol, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, voice cracking as he put his finger inside. "It's the divine passage, the sacred temple."
"The Holy of Holies," she sighed as his finger touched her G-spot.
"Yes, you
could
call it that." His penis was as hard as Shiva's
linga
stone, and ready to be used in the same way. "But one shouldn't talk about such religious symbols in an erotic context."
"I wasn't," she said; though the wicked girl was certainly thinking that way. His finger made it impossible not to.
"The union of...
lingam
and
