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The Indian girl arrives
Themes: ws, mast, lez, light scat, Asian/Indian

This in an offshoot project from the Margey Household chronicles. Some of the characters are the same, some new. Read the other stories in the series (Books 1-9) to find out the full background or some of it won't make any sense.

Warning: The events and characters in this story are imaginary. If you attempt to duplicate them in real life, you will end up sharing a jail cell with a big fat man called Bubba.

Chapter 10-3 Bindi comes to stay

by StackofBooks

(4074 words)

Life at "Pee Stains on the Lawn" farm was still going on much as usual.

Of course, Molly and Franny had already flown the nest and Margey and I missed them dearly. Molly, cos she was always so mature, quiet, level-headed, cool and collected. And the perfect wife for Ben, who had declared to me all those years ago: I'm a one-woman man, and she is "The One" - and only one - for me. And their continuing stable relationship with toddler Charlotte and another one on the way was proof of the pudding.

We missed Franny as well, not just for her sassiness (her put-downs and wisecracks were legendary), but because of her lust for life, her desire for new experiences (sexual and non-sexual), her ability to turn negative situations into positive. I confess it surprised me when I learned that she and Chris looked at each other in Andrea's garden, and after only a short time of meeting each other, knew - just KNEW - they'd found their soulmate. I had sort of imagined she would play the field for a long time, bouncing from one to another like a pinball, even fearing she might plump for an unsuitable oik or a wrong 'un who might mistreat her. Surprisingly, she never used her sassiness on Chris - like he'd been given immunity from the start, as some kind of a 'Get out of jail free' card like in Monopoly.

Suze, the 3rd daughter in Margey's brood was still at home, but now had a boyfriend called Martin. (His surname was Marten, and it always made me wonder what the HELL his parents were thinking when giving him a Christian name. Seriously, what is wrong with these people and others of their ilk??) 

He was a good kid and never asked me any awkward questions about circumcised/uncircumcised penises. (Maybe Suze had already told him!) So thankfully we never got to the stage where he lopped his dick out of his pants for me to look at. I had to close down my advice centre in the village, my life already.

However, I did once catch them fucking each other on the living room couch one day, but they were cool and not startled by it and said I could stay if I wanted. I did. He had a good weapon as far as I could see and was fairly adept at what he was doing. I was of course fairly familiar with her lower bits from previous encounters, but still enjoyed the view of her pink slit as it was being penetrated; and he'd pushed up her T-shirt so I could see she'd developed quite nicely up top too. She was enjoying his ministrations immensely, coming every now and again. Martin was a bit concerned when I pulled my dick out to wank it, thinking I might want to take over and usurp him. Nothing was further from my mind though. Suze knew the score however, and opened her mouth wide to receive my load. He pulled out after coming (Margey had put all her girls on contraception as soon as was possible), and he did have a nice smooth 4-incher. Part of me wanted to examine and/or lick off from him all Suze's delicious juices - past experience talking here - she had made.

But in my heart of hearts, I was sort of worried about Suze. Of the four girls she was the one who showed more of a magnetic attraction to lesbianism. (Not that I think that kind of sexuality is wrong - don't misunderstand me.)  Her mum had always stressed to me that she herself was 100% straight - until I found she enjoyed lezzie porn; then she had an affair with Ben's mum Andrea; that she wanted to 69 her girls before they stepped into the adult world. So I wondered why Suze was seeing this boy. Maybe she wanted to confirm to herself she was gay. Perhaps she was content with walking both sides of the street.

Lisbeth (or Beth as she preferred) was still hoping to become a basketball star, but all her growing seemed to have been done and she just wasn't quite tall enough. She was a happy-go-lucky kid, and accepted it all with stoic grace. Of all four girls, she was least blessed with good looks, and her mousy short straggly hair and buck teeth held her back somewhat. 

Her main redeeming feature (but she had many others such as cooking) was her art. The only left hander in the family, her medium was just about anything: 7B to 7H pencils, charcoal, pastels, then watercolours to acrylics. We encouraged her a lot in this pursuit.

She hated her glasses, but I reminded her that the wearing or not wearing of them does not make you any less or more desirable to a prospective partner. However, if you bump into furniture or get run over by a car because you cannot see properly, that may decrease your chances of being asked out on a date and finding a soulmate. I told her: Look, I wear specs and I found your mum (and you four lovely girls into the bargain). Why can't it happen to you?

She didn't care much about what kind of clothes she wore either, and Margey (or more usually Molly) had to take her in hand every now and again and get her sorted at the shops. Her sexuality was also borderline. She brought home a different boyfriend and girlfriend every now and again, but it seemed nothing was fixed in her mind. But she did occasionally like creeping into my bed (or inviting me to hers) for some mutual masturbation action (but no sex). That's all that seemed to satisfy her and keep her real. Lovely girl, but a bit strange.

Bindi was the Asian girl who'd won both our famous competitions, even beating the Sassmeister, and the famous pout had appeared that day as a result of the latter's disappointment. The victor had jet black hair, very straight, and so long it reached past her buttocks. I longed to bury my face in her tresses (and other parts of her).

She was not now in the same class at college as Suze or Beth, but was still a regular attendee at sleepovers, maybe once a month.

One day I got a phone call from the parents, Mr and Mrs Gandhi (no relation). Apparently there had been a family bereavement in their home village in the Punjab, and due to their religion and customs, they were obliged to attend. But they didn't want to disrupt her education, especially as she didn't really know the person who had died. Their daughter was an only child, and very mature and trustworthy, but it was deemed inadvisable to leave her on her own. Would it be possible for us to look after her for a few weeks? (They couldn't be specific on the length of time due to various factors.)

I said I would check with Margey and get back to them, but couldn't see a problem. She could take Little Miss Sassy's old room if she agreed. The latter did. That tells you a lot about her real character - despite all the bravado and bullshitting façade about getting beaten by another girl in a silly competition, she really was a 24 carat diamond (joke intended) in the middle.

They had to catch the plane the very next day, as there were many connections that had to fall in place to prevent then getting stranded in the middle of nowhere. So after school had finished for the day, Suze drove me (she had her provisional licence now) in my car to their house to pick her and her stuff up. It was a delightful and immaculate home, decorated in traditional Indian style, and she took great pleasure in showing me around everywhere. I felt it inappropriate for me to enter a young girl's bedroom and slightly stuck my head round the door. But she pulled me inside by the hand and sat me and Suze on the bed. She explained where she kept all her things: clothes, books, toys, makeup, toiletries, shoes, etc. (Suze had stayed there many times, and told me her mum and dad were very kind, generous and helpful to her.)

We got back to our place, and the lovely Franny had already been in and cleared out most of her personal possessions. They were now in cardboard boxes in the basement. I could have kissed her. (I did next time, but in a very rude place on her body, which she thoroughly enjoyed. It led to a very interesting session, which maybe I'll relate another time...)

As a parting gift, knowing only I would understand it, she left a message on the outside of the door. No words, just an A4 piece of paper. Top half was the emoji for two fingers. Not the V for victory sign. The other way round. The bottom half was a scanned photograph of her bending over forwards, pulling down her shorts. Mooning me. Her delectable arse still did things to me (I was the first one up it with my dick), and I could also see her shaven slit all too clearly, bringing back happy memories. Luckily Bindi didn't see it, as I quickly pulled it down and folded it into my pocket, to look at whenever I had a dull moment. With a magnifying glass. (A few weeks later, Franny sent the original hi-res version of the jpeg to my phone, and my happiness was unbounded.

We (well mostly I) carried and moved Bindi's things into her room, while she and Beth and Suze played some sort of a board game (I call them bored games) in the corner. I double checked with her that she knew where everything in the house was (she did) and if she had any dietary requirements (she didn't). I assured her that she could talk to me and Margey any time about anything. She took that almost literally.

Like I mentioned in another story, the bathroom was like a capital city's main railway station. Everyone went in and out and never batted an eyelid. The door was never locked, except if someone wanted to poop in peace, they could. It really only applied to me however, as even with the extractor fan full on, my rectal emissions were too smelly to be tolerated by anyone - including me! All of the women had by and large acceptable odours.

Peeing in front of each other on the pot was the norm. Bindi knew that, as she had often partaken of our pee games. Indeed, after the 3 girls had finished their 'boring' game with a dice and counters, she said:

Steve, my parents had to leave in a hurry, but I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me come here. (She hugged me and kissed me on the lips.) But I know how your family thanks each other, and I'd like to give you something of mine. When Margey gets home, she will get the same.

She laid me down on the ground and lifted her sari to show me a brown cleft with a little bit of hair, but no knickers. She knelt down over my head and smelt heavenly - and released 100ml into me. At first I thought she was playing a trick on me and using a plastic bottle of tap water. Because she had almost no taste. Suze and Beth were also happy their friend was here, and donated as well. (They needed no excuse anyway. In the middle of drawing something or playing with a dolly, they would just break away and adopt the squatting position.)

So I crossed paths often in the bathroom with the Punjabi girl, and she was always very polite and pleasant. If I was brushing my teeth in the morning, she would come in and pee silently (not a hisser! Damn!!) and allow me to watch as she wiped herself. If Beth and/or Suze were there, she got bolder and pooped out 2-3 logs with loud splashes. Again, she had no embarrassment about me seeing her wipe the puckered hole. 

My two girls still liked to hold my dick once in a while to void my bladder just before I or we got into the shower. Bindi watched with interest but made no move.

Her parents had been caught up in the Covid outbreak and Emailed me to say they couldn't yet give me a return date as travel was severely restricted.

After about a month, it appeared Bindi had been talking deeply and intently with her new 'siblings'. I was in my dressing gown with only my undies, just about to go to bed. She caught up with me in the corridor, took my hand and guided me into the bathroom. Without saying a word, she undid the belt on my gown, pulled down my briefs halfway, kissed the tip, and nodded to start my pee as she guided it. A shake and a squeeze to finish, her little tongue in my peehole, and a final kiss. And left.

The next night was even stranger. Beth decided she wanted some 'white cream' and told me to come and see her in an hour. Bindi was there with her and I almost bolted. 

Please Steve, stay, and let Beth look after you. Besides, I've seen it before when we had a pyjama party. (True, I'd forgotten that.)

So Beth started in her own professional and competent way. I closed my eyes and zoned out, only to realise the hand was now different and a little bit amateurish. But it was still bringing me up to the boil. She leaned in very close and I smelt her hair for the first time. Her kiss on my lips was nice as she used a bit of tongue. I tried to warn her of my impending explosion, but she just leaned down, took the glans in her mouth and received the whole load. The remaining unswallowed part was snowballed to Beth. I cautioned them both to go wash their hands carefully right now before touching their own or each other's pussy.

A week later, I was stepping into the shower (already had peed unfortunately). She walked in and asked if she could join me. Of course. She asked me to undress her: today Western clothes, T-shirt, blue bra, red shorts and flowery knickers, white ankle socks. She put her very long hair up and stuffed it into a shower cap. I don't want to get it wet, it'll take too long to dry, she explained.

She offered to wash me first, using shower gel and bar soap, with a sponge and then her hands. She spent a long time on my wedding tackle as the bedroom the other night had been too dark for her to see anything in detail. After rinsing, it was my turn to wash her.

Just a pleasure to touch and feel her whole body. Her tits were a marble sculptor's dream; her backside also; and God had a very good day when he created her pussy. She was first in the queue for that!!

Nude Margey walked in on us, not expecting anyone to be there. She also pinned her hair and shower-capped, and stepped in. She was a bit bolder than I, and started massaging her boobs and twiddling the nips. Spreading her flat hands over her brown-skinned buttocks. Asking permission to push a finger into her, and she squealed and squirmed with delight and sheer pleasure. The water was switched off temporarily as Margey knelt down and put her mouth against Bindi's vagina, as I squeezed her tits from behind. I could feel her orgasm building up and finally the huge wave crashed. 

She said: Steve, Margey, you remember how I enjoyed everyone peeing in my hair that day? I like it and there's something in that golden liquid that strengthens and makes my hair beautiful. One day soon, fill yourselves up to the brim, cover me all over with your champagne, and help me wash it out. Steve, I know you were watching the girls do the same that day, but you were too polite or too gentlemanly to ask to join in. This is your chance. And 3 days later we did exactly that to her.

To finish, it was Margey's turn to receive as we both cleaned her up. The girl was especially enchanted by her full and plump breasts. Bindi then applied her fingers to her clit, inserted some fingers, then balled her hand into a small fist and pushed that in too. As Margey peed a finale, the younger one cupped her hands and collected it, splashing it onto her own face and boobs

Bindi was a bit like Chris: even though she had her studies, she helped out a lot around the house. Doing the laundry  together with her two 'sibling' friends, thus taking Franny's place: stacking/unstacking the dishwasher; and occasionally cooking genuine Indian meals. Beth and Suze learned a lot from her, and it went on to reap dividends later. She did it not to curry favour with us (no pun intended), she was just a nice girl.

Unfortunately, doing the gardening and mowing the lawn reverted back to me. (Yah-boo-sucks!) And I had to pay someone to look after the pool every week.

The Indian girl started asking me into her room more and more often, without the other two being present or even aware of it, I think. I checked with Margey, but she said she thought her parents' religion forbade any kind of birth control. So if she just wanted to see me spurt and drink the jism, as long as she washed up straightaway, she saw no harm.

Speaking of the pool, she confided in me that she could not swim. Margey was not a strong swimmer and hardly ever went in, only to cool off really on a hot day.

As I was the only one to have time, I offered to teach her. Our first lesson, I got in and she gingerly followed. Like in the shower, she had to put up her hair very carefully and bind it tight into a swimming cap, or the weight of it when fully wet would drag her down and prevent her from floating.

I put my arms underneath her as she floated on her back, and then on her front, being chivalrous throughout.

Unfortunately, Little Miss Chinese Sassy (aka Sandy) came by at that moment and made some jibe about "responsible adults", despite giving me a warm hug, a big kiss on the lips, and a whole load of tongue, which (sort of) softened the barb. Luckily, it was all lost on Bindi who didn't know what sassiness was.

Sandy apologised for her intrusion. She was hoping to do a whole load of practice lengths with a view to making the swim team. (She seemed to have given up on football, which was a shame, as I only went to the matches to see her massive knockers bounce up and down when she ran. Another life pleasure gone.) I told her she was welcome to come back later, and a "responsible adult" would be on hand to watch her in case she had any issues with her period. Got a thump on the arm for that - charming! (All this banter seemed to go completely over the Indian girl's head.)

She kissed Bindi goodbye on the lips, slipped her the tongue too, and squeezed one of her tits. And left.

We continued our lesson. I showed her how to move her arms to do the crawl. She was doing well, but now and again lost her confidence and began to sink. She came up gasping for air, locked her arms around my shoulders, and clung on to me, as if Neptune himself was going to rise up from the deep and claim her. My dick was pointing straight up, and I'm sure she knew it cos she submerged slightly pushing my tip onto her cootie. No doubt, it was deliberate.

Her bikini costume was made of an extremely thin white synthetic material. Her nipples were very long, 11-12mm, and constantly erect, even when not swimming. She seemed not to wear a bra around the house or when going out. I wondered if it was some kind of anti-parent rebellion as they were not here. But we had no control of that kind over her, and we were powerless to intervene - even if we wanted to. We didn't.

Her mum and dad, still stuck over there, sometimes phoned to talk to us and her, but it was very expensive so only 2-3 mins long. And it was not the sort of thing you could bring up. "I say, old chap, your daughter's flashing her threepenny bits (rhyming slang for tits) everywhere. What should we do?" Margey and I let it slide.

In the pool, her bikini bottoms were almost see through too, revealing a nice set of pubes and a prominent cleft. At one point she needed a pee, and rather than get out, she slipped off the lower part of the costume and I lifted her up. She splayed her thighs over the side and a dark golden stream arced out for over a minute. She turned around, gave me the last 30ml, and I kissed her cootie to say thank you. She tore off the bikini top and asked me to kiss each boob. (Wow, she really was feeling rebellious!!) We resumed our lesson, and from then on, every tuition hour was with both of us naked. Even if I tried to wear my shorts, she pulled them off, giving my penis a quick 'hello' stroke.

At the end of that first lesson, we got out and had a warm shower in the house. Bindi wanked me off as Mr Woody was showing his appreciation for her presence. This time she let me come all over her face and titties, but we immediately deployed the showerhead to rinse her. She said she was at the safe part of her cycle anyway.

I dried her off, and she asked me to dress her in the clean clothes she had brought with her.

We had a cup of hot chocolate together, and chatted about her studies and her career. She was considering becoming an engineer, so I took her under my wing a bit. Anytime I was doing any mechanical or electrical work around the place, she was with me, helping, and picked things up easily.

The week after, I had to change the spark plugs on the car, and with a bit of guidance, she did it all herself. She knew most of the names of the tools we used, and had an intuitive understanding of how mechanical things worked.

After we finished, she peed and pooped for me to watch close up, outside on the grass (I picked it up with TP and flushed it away inside) and I covered her waters with my urine. 

She gave me the roll of TP, and I cleaned her orifices. Yes, I know to wipe a girl backwards and not forwards, to prevent bacteria in shit from entering the vagina. Anyhow, to clean her anus properly, it turned out easier for her to lie across my lap as if I was going to spank her (I was sorely tempted, even though she was a very good girl and had done nothing wrong).

I just hoped our emissions wouldn't cause another stain on the lawn!


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