Hi, I'm Melisa. I'm 25 years old right now, and I was born in a place called Tulsa, Oklahoma. It's in the Southern US, and I guess that's why I still talk with a bit of a Southern accent. I'm 5 foot 4 inches tall, not super tall, not super short. My body measurements are 36-30-38. I've never really been into going to the gym or anything like that, but in high school, I did track, so I was somewhat active back then. My hair is naturally blonde, and my eyes are blue, which I guess are pretty common for someone from where I grew up.
When I was 16, everything changed big time. My parents decided we had to move to Boston, Massachusetts, because of my mom's job. It was a huge, huge difference from Oklahoma. Tulsa was all wide-open spaces and slower living, and Boston felt like a fast, crowded, old city with brick buildings everywhere. It was kind of jarring, you know? But it wasn't all bad. That's actually where I met Jeff, my high school sweetheart. He was just the sweetest guy, and we hit it off right away. Now, we've been married for two wonderful years. After high school, I went to college and studied Marketing, while Jeff followed his passion for animation. His big dream was always to start his own company right after graduating, but, well, student loans had other plans for us, so that dream had to wait a bit.
Then, last year, something totally unexpected happened. Jeff got this amazing job offer from a movie company, but it was all the way in Hyderabad, India. Honestly, we were both really hesitant about moving so far. I was especially scared. I mean, I'd never even traveled outside of the US before! And I'd read so many articles online, you know, the ones that make India sound like it's not very safe for women. It made me incredibly nervous and anxious about the whole idea. But Jeff, he's always been the hopeful one, and he managed to convince me. He promised we'd only be there for five years, and he kept saying how this experience would be super important for him to eventually start his own company. I was still really reluctant, deep down, but I loved him, and I decided to go for him. To try and make things a bit easier, I even started learning Hindi, hoping I could at least talk to some of the locals and understand things better. And luckily, I even managed to find a marketing job in the city, which was a big relief.
When we got to Hyderabad, it was a massive cultural shock for me, just like I thought it would be. Everything was different -- the sights, the sounds, the smells, the way people did things. It hit me hard. The food, though, was another story; it was incredibly tasty, so many new flavors! But it was weird for me that there was no beef, which I learned was for religious reasons. The people, though, were so surprisingly welcoming and friendly. It really made me rethink those scary articles I'd read. I did hear a few lewd comments sometimes, like people staring or saying things, but I learned pretty quickly to just ignore them and keep going. After talking to more locals, I realized that Hindi isn't actually spoken everywhere in India; in Hyderabad, they mostly spoke Telugu. But my Hindi did come in handy, especially when I talked to the food delivery boys, who often used it, and with other locals I met.
We moved into our apartment, which was a 1-bedroom. It was cozy. The air inside always seemed to hum with a strange warmth, a blend of different scents unique to the building and the lingering aroma of incense from downstairs. Our living room wasn't huge, but it felt just right for us, with our few pieces of furniture that looked a little too American against the painted walls. The bedroom was simple, a comfy mattress on the floor, which was common here, and a small closet. Our balcony quickly became our favorite spot -- perfect for evening conversations and just watching the city. That's where we started to find many friends in the city. Our neighbors, Raj and Ivy, were super friendly. They were also our landlords, actually. They lived downstairs in the same building that Raj's father had built. Raj is Indian, and Ivy is British. They've been married for ten years. The apartment across from ours was empty for a bit, but then Lucas, a young animator who worked with Jeff, moved in.
The first year we were there was really exciting, full of new discoveries, but our sex life took a hit. We were just so busy. Jeff worked the night shift, and I worked the morning shift, so we barely saw each other. I was constantly being hit on by coworkers and guys we met at night clubs. It was annoying, but I stayed faithful to Jeff. Still, I was getting really frustrated because we had so little time together. It felt like we were always missing each other, always craving more. On weekends, we tried to make up for it by going to different bars, pubs, and night clubs, or just cuddling together in our bedroom, trying to reconnect. Ivy and I became really good friends, too. We'd talk about everything during our 6 PM tea sessions.
Because we were always ordering food, I became pretty good at speaking Hindi. I usually chatted in Hindi with the delivery boys. I also loved the historical places in Hyderabad. Jeff hated history, so he wasn't interested, but Raj and Ivy were kind enough to take me around and show me some amazing places. One day, during our tea time, Ivy and I started talking about our sex lives. She told me that Raj was amazing in bed and still so romantic, even after eleven years of marriage. He often brought her flowers and took her on fancy vacations. Then she dropped a bombshell: she told me his dick was 8 inches and that he really knew how to use it well. She said most women she'd talked to said the same thing about their husbands. I was really surprised! I blurted out that Jeff's was only 4 inches. But I kept the fact about our lack of sex a secret.
That night, I couldn't sleep at all, even after a few rounds with Jeff. I had always been attracted to white men, but now, a strange curiosity started bubbling up. It wasn't just about what Ivy said, it was like a little seed of longing I didn't even know was there suddenly sprouted. I wondered how it would feel to be with a person from another race, specifically an Indian man, after what Ivy had said. Her comments were really causing a lot of doubts in my mind about Jeff and our relationship. I started searching online for "Indian man and white female" stories and was shocked by how much content there was. I found myself reading all sorts of stories on Literotica and felt incredibly curious for the next whole month. Like most intense new interests, this passion eventually died down a bit, but the curiosity still lingered, like a quiet hum in the background. Jeff wasn't a fan of trying different positions, and our sex was most often just him on top of me. We never tried any other ways, and I had never even given him a BJ. My requests to try new things were often just shot down, gently but firmly. But Jeff was a very loving and caring person, and I truly loved him for that. Before we got married, he told me he wanted kids later in our lives, and at that point, I felt the same way. But now, I really, really wanted to be a mother.
One day, Ivy and Raj told us the wonderful news: Ivy was pregnant! We were all really happy for them. But they also told us they had decided to move to Raj's paternal home, which was outside of town. That was a bummer for me, especially since Ivy had become such a good friend. But Ivy promised me that we would always stay in touch and meet often. They decided to renovate their apartment before renting it out, and that's when the construction started. The construction workers were from other states in India and seemed very dirty and unhygienic. They often drank and caused problems for us, and the loud sounds of the construction were driving us mad. They also looked at me with a lot of lust, which made me feel really cautious around them, almost like I was always on guard. But even with all that, I was still looking forward to meeting my new neighbors and hoping to bond with them like I did with Ivy.
Among the workers, there was this man named Jai who was in his mid-40s, with a pot belly, and was from Odisha another state in India. He was dark and overall, I just thought he was unattractive. His skin was a deep, uneven brown, rough-looking, like he spent too much time in the sun without care. His hair was greasy and always messy, like he barely combed it. And that pot belly really stuck out, making his dirty shirt stretch tight. He had these small, beady eyes that seemed to miss nothing, and a few stained, yellowed teeth that showed when he gave that creepy smirk. He was the person who crept me out the most. He constantly whistled and passed comments about me. We also had several verbal disputes because of all the noise they were making. He often slept in the apartment to make sure no one broke into it, which meant he was always around.
Raj and Ivy invited us to their new house for a big party to celebrate the birth of their child. The alcohol was free flowing, and the food was really good. We had an amazing time, dancing to all sorts of Bollywood and English songs, which were actually pretty awesome. We were both really drunk by the time the party was over. We ignored Raj and Ivy's invitation to stay at their place and decided to go back home.
In the cab, Jeff suddenly started rubbing my fingers. It felt nice. He moved closer, and I could smell the faint scent of alcohol and his familiar cologne. We started kissing, a deep, sloppy kiss because we were so drunk. My hands went to his hair, pulling him closer. His hands were all over my back, then moving lower. It felt good, for a second. He bit the soft part of my ear, and it made me shiver a little. Then he started to pull down the zipper on my dress. I felt his fingers on my skin. My heart was pounding. Part of me, the part that was just tired and wanted attention, wanted to let him. But another part, a small voice inside, remembered everything Ivy had said, and how I'd been feeling about Jeff.
"Wait," I whispered, pushing his hands away gently. The moment broke. He paused, his breath hot on my neck. The cab kept moving. By the time we pulled up to our building, the excitement was gone. Jeff slumped against the window. He was completely passed out.
He fell down as soon as we left the cab, just a heavy weight. I struggled to carry him home. It was impossible. Then Jai showed up. I was so surprised he came to help me. He just walked over, his dark, sweaty face blank, a bright red tilak, very similar to the ones i have seen in hindu idols, and without a word, he grabbed one of Jeff's arms and slung it over his shoulder. I got on the other side, and we started this really awkward walk. He was wearing a dhoti, a white cloth wrapped around his legs, which felt strange and billowy as we moved.
It was so weird. Being that close to Jai, the guy who always made me feel gross. His arm was against my arm, and I could feel how thick his arm was, bulky under his dirty shirt. A coarse stubble of dark hair seemed to prickle through the fabric of his sleeve, a feeling that made my skin crawl even more. The smell of him was strong, too -- sweat and something else, maybe like dust and stale cigarettes. It's not a good smell at all. Every step was hard. Jeff was heavy, and we were both swaying a little. His breathing was heavy, a guttural sound right next to my ear. It felt like his presence was just too much, too close. I kept my eyes fixed on the door, trying not to look at Jai, trying not to think about him being so close. It was just a strange, uncomfortable mix of relief that he was helping and this deep, skin-crawling feeling because it was him.
We finally got to our door. Jai hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he should come inside my apartment. I was so tired and desperate. "Please," I said, my voice shaky. "He's too heavy. Just help me get him inside." He gave a short nod, and then he was in my apartment. We basically dragged Jeff, who was totally out cold now, through the living room and into the guest room. That room was the only one with its own bathroom, which was a small mercy right then. I just needed to get Jeff settled, and then figure out what to do with Jai.
I gently laid Jeff down on the bed. He was completely out, snoring softly. I stood there, catching my breath, trying to process everything. Then I remembered Jai was still in my living room. I walked back out, feeling a bit awkward. He was just standing there, looking around the apartment. He kept his eyes mostly on the floor, but I could feel his gaze flick up to me sometimes. It felt weird having him inside, seeing our furniture, our stuff, with him standing there in his work clothes.
