The readers of Good Morning India Ch2 may remember that Kira had met the French Ambassador in New Delhi on her first official outing with Kyrhan to attend the opening of the Franco-Indian week. She was presented to him as Kira Chowdhury, Kyrhan's Indian personal assistant. Her perfect knowledge of the French language (obvious as she was really French) had made him propose Kira to attend some Indian-French meetings as an official translator after their marriage. This short episode from the first times of her relations with Kyrhan had never been related.
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A few months after her wedding with Kyrhan, Kira was invited at a reception at the French Embassy. The Ambassador was still the man she had been presented to a year before. Since then, Kira's mastering of Hindi had greatly improved and she was completely at ease to discuss with him the possibility of working to improve the relations between her native and adopted nations.
Kyrhan had insisted that she wore as often as possible a saree. It was just when there were gales that he allowed her to wear churidars, a sort of local slim pants tied to her ankles. For this official reception, she was wearing a deep red silk saree with an elaborate finely embroidered with pure gold threads pallu and a matching short sleeved choli, a fitting garment for the new Princess Kira Singh. The effect of the rich clothes on her very pretty body was simply striking and she became instantly the wet dream of most men, and a few women at the reception.
Kira was well aware that there are several ways to wear a saree, some quite demure with the body fully hidden and other quite sexy or even really wanton with the belly button exhibited by the saree worn very low and very form fitting. For such an official reception, she had wearing it somewhere between very sexy and slightly wanton and the reaction she had met showed that she had made a good choice.
Kyrhan always seemed to beam with pride whenever she was on his side. She looked maybe thirty years younger than him but his powerful frame made her look frail although her breasts were full and mouth watering, her wobbling hips made the onlooker dream of torrid hours in a secluded place, her bottom just invited a friendly pat. Even her tummy was just beginning to bulge with the first offspring of Prince Kyrhan. The muscles hidden under her soft skin showed that she exercised daily and very seriously. She had become in a few months a well known figure of people magazines in India for several quite obvious reasons, her smile and her innate elegance being just two of them.
She walked the reception hall on her five inches stilettos as if she was walking on a cloud drawing most people away from the bar where cocktails were served, a rather exceptional result. Many women attending the reception were wearing designer dresses by some of the best known people in the world of haute couture but, she, with a simple rectangular piece of Indian cloth wrapped elaborately around herself eclipsed them completely. Her outfit was simple but so sexy. It showed off her figure while remaining shy, completely covering her legs and her chest. Only a large part of her tummy and her arms was exposed and that was sufficient to make the blood pressure of the males around her soar to dangerous levels.
The Ambassador jumped on his feet when she came to salute him. He quite formally kissed her hand, just keeping it a bit longer that the protocol would have expected it.
- Kira! Oh, pardon me, Princess Singh, an immense pleasure to see you at last. I was despairing to meet you again!
They chatted a few minutes. Apart from the small talk, the Ambassador wanted to push his idea of having Kira take an important part in official discussions. The Indian government would have his own translators but the French group would rely on her. Encouraged by her husband, Kira finally agreed. It was thus she found herself less than a month later in the building of the French cultural mission. The subjects were arid and did not put a stress on her translating abilities. She could then watch the ten other people around the table. There were four women, all of them but herself on the Indian side. Kira was surprised to be the only one wearing a traditional Indian garment. All the other ones had switched to European style clothes. None of them attracted the least interest from her.
Kira could not say the same thing for the men. Either in the French group or in the Indian one, there were a few very handsome men, neither fresh from University nor old farts, she would have happily dated, had she been single and free to mingle with them. Kyrhan, to her surprise encouraged her to cultivate these acquaintances, even suggestng her to receive them alone in their personal apartment in New Delhi. She had followed his suggestion that evening. Kyrhan was to join them later for an after dinner talk. At that time, Kira was not living in Kyrhan's family palace which was in a pitiful state, somewhere short of a complete ruin.
The furniture was a masterpiece of Indian designers production with very comfortable deep armchairs, completely free from animal skins, for sure. Kira had taken a seat in front of her French guest and was half turned toward him. Her posture enhanced dramatically her figure for the benefit of her visitor and she had chosen it on purpose. As usual, she looked magnificent. Tonight her voluptuous body was fitted in a matt-black saree with silver embroidery. She had put on a sleeveless choli that emphasized the majesty of her shoulders and her neck. It was also very short, leaving as much skin visible on her belly as was possible. Her pregnant belly was prominently displayed but it did not seem to bother her at all. Her guest, Mr Francis Martin, was delighted to discuss with Kira. Most women he had met in India were very shy, afraid to expose their own views. This one was brilliant, clever and, above all, self asserting that is she defended her own positions and was sufficiently subtle to point out the internal flaws in his own position. Francis would have loved to watch her really battle in a heated discussion. She would have been a terrific opponent. Fortunately this time, she was on his side.
Francis' eyes were keeping to return to that unusual woman. She was wearing her saree very form fitting to her voluptuous body. He had glimpsed her breasts and her bottom wobbling pleasingly under the thin fabric as she moved about. Was she wearing a bra and some panties or was she nude underneath the precious fabric? He still wondered after the dinner when they chatted on her balcony. He could see her nipples pushing forward the silk but some bras are so sheer that he could just guess. Her long black hair was piled up in an elegant bun, not tightly braided as most Indian women. She was wearing a typically Indian intricate necklace with long matching ear rings. A jewel was hanging on her forehead and bangles adorned her forearms. She looked ready for Indian traditional belly dances she had hinted to practice regularly. Francis would have loved to see her performing in public.
He had discussed with his colleagues when he had been invited. They only knew that her husband was much older than her. Therefore, she may need a stud to hump her even if she seemed to be really in love with him and where to find a better stallion than in the French or Italian community?
When they had drunk their coffee, Francis offered Kira to leave but she proposed him to continue their discussion with some music in the background waiting for Kyrhan who seemed to be late...
- What kind of music do you love?
- Jazz. Do you have something from John Coltrane, maybe Music for lovers?
- I have. It was one of my favorites before I married my husband
The languorous notes of the music were really inspiring. Francis took Kira in his arms and began a long slow dance with her. Her head was pressing on his shoulder, her tits against his chest. When her hands moved from his back to his neck, Francis was sure he had seduced that lovely lady. He bent his head until his lips brushed her ears. He whispered :
- You are the most beautiful woman I have seen for years, if not in my life.
She blushed prettily but did not try to push him away. He bent again and this time kissed her ears. As she still did not move, he pushed his advantage, licking her ear lobe and the hole in the middle with the tip of his tongue. Kira bent backward, moaning softly.
It was his turn to move down his hands. One of them settled on her hips, caressing the lightly tanned soft skin there while the other went even lower, reaching her buttocks. She whimpered as if in despair and lifted her head with her eyes closed. He could not miss the opportunity and covered her mouth with his, pushing his tongue inside. He was now sure that she would not resist any more.
