Encountering Meera, Chapter 3 - The Pussy Party or Doing it at Diwalli

by Fantasy World

Being a multicultural society, festivals and parties were a big part of what we did. The idea was to celebrate the important holidays of the various cultural groups we assisted, and seeing that we had a very large East Indian population in our town, it was decided that we would have a party for Diwali, the Indian festival of lights, a distant relative of our Christmas, which was celebrated in the fall.

This was perfect, as far as I was concerned. I could engage Meera in the preparations, the food, the decorations, etc. and this way get to know her a bit better, and hopefully begin to get her to take some pride in her job at the society. The theory I had was quite simple, if she started to feel a sense of deeper involvement and saw that her opinion and skills were respected and needed, she might develop a more mature attitude in general and hopefully become a valuable member of the staff.

When I suggested to Meera that she head up the student committee for the Diwali festival, she seemed mildly positive, but then she did a great job. She organized all the food and decorations, and seemed to be developing a very positive relationship with one of our head volunteers, Mary Stevens. Mary, was a long time volunteer at the society, and now in her early 50's she was a fixture at many of our events. Mary was a superb cook and though she had never had any experience with Indian food, by the time the Diwali party rolled around she was making samosas, and aloo gobi, as if she was an east Indian.

Finally the big night arrived, we had a tremendous turnout, and I was very pleased. The food was fabulous, and both the staff and the locals could be found boogying to that strange amalgam of east Indian sitar and table based music combined with good old western rock and roll. Everyone was having a wonderful time.

It was especially interesting to see the different Indian costumes that the staff had chosen to wear. This was another of Meera's ideas. She convinced everyone to choose an Indian god or goddess that was relative to Diwali, and then create a costume and wear it to the party. The effect was quite spectacular. We had various staff members dressed up as Naraka, the demon, Lord Krishna, and his wife Satyabhama, and then there was Meera who had chosen to be Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, and as the story goes, in this festival she is in her most benevolent mood, fulfilling every wish of her devotees.

Meera, was a sight to behold. She was wrapped in some sort of diaphanous material that was a mixture of gold and silver, a sari that seemed to be glued to her lithe frame. It really left nothing to the imagination, every developing curve, was highlighted. And if that wasn't enough, as is the tradition in India, many of the saris are constructed with a bare midriff, something, that is considered a bit exhibitionist in the west, is actually a conservative form of dress in India. And Meera, certainly was being conservative. Her lovely, flat, belly was on display for all of us to see. She had even somehow gotten a small red ruby like jewel fixed to her long oval shaped slightly indented belly button. The jewel would catch the light and sparkle, and that just drew more erotic attention to her.

She seemed to be thriving on the energy and enjoying being the center of the party. When she danced she never missed an opportunity to move her hips and twist in such a way that her mid section was undulating like a professional belly dancer. The effect was quite almost trance like and had the effect on me of making want to go over and touch and stroke that little stomach of hers, and then of course slip my hands down into her sari and get my hands on her hot snatch. I had to force myself to look away, because every now and then she would catch me looking at her and give me one of her enigmatic smiles, which I returned in a very motherly benign way, but I was obviously not feeling motherly towards her at all!

Meeras truly was Lakshmi that night, dispensing her favours on her many suitors, but she seemed to be really connecting with Mary Stevens, the volunteer cook. Mary had chosen to dress in a pure white nun's habit; around her neck she wore a large crucifix. Her costume was not quite connected to Diwalli, but when asked about it, Mary would only say that she always had the greatest admiration for Mother Theresa, and this costume was her tip of the hat, to this great, saintly woman. Anyways, her and Meera made quite a site on the dance floor, the young nubile Indian goddess and the middle aged, local housewife, dressed as a nun. It was strange, but somehow the magic of the party atmosphere made it seem quite natural and appropriate. It certainly looked as if they were both having a great time. Yes, everyone was having fun, and after all, that is what a party was supposed to be about!

At one point in the evening, I began to be aware of feeling somewhat light headed, and then I realized I was high, stoned. Not having smoked any pot that evening, or for that matter in the last few weeks, I was puzzled. Then I realized that some of the food must have been spiked- with grass or hash- that was the only possible answer to explain the way I was feeling. I headed over to the sweets table, and picked up what looked like some sort of Indian version of a brownie. I had eaten one earlier that evening. I took a small bite, and tasted, ever so slightly the gritty, plant taste that immediately meant marijuana, to me.

It must have been Meera. The thought instantly came to me. Somehow she had doctored the sweets, or at least the Indian version of brownies. Come to think of it, she had been the one who had over seen the preparation of the sweets, along with Mary Stevens. And Mary Stevens, well, she was as pure as the driven snow. The idea of her putting grass or hash in the food was beyond laughable. Yes, it was definitely Meera, and considering her bad behavior since she had begun her employment, this was really a logical next step in her campaign of mischief.

I looked around the room, everyone was have a good time, there was a lot of laughing, some very dirty dancing, and a few people were sprawled out in dark corners of the multipurpose room, talking, or maybe even passed out. I could feel the dope coursing through my system, the colors were getting brighter, and distorted, my mouth was dry, and to no surprise--- I had the munchies. Yes, I was high, and so were quite a few other people at this shindig.

"That girl could use a good spanking" I thought to myself. And then the image flashed into my drugged mind of Meera, sprawled over my knees, her sari pulled down past her bum, and those two small brown cheeks staring up at me, quivering, covered in goose bumps, just below my hands. I could picture her firm young butt with an inviting deep bum crack that would lead down to a dark puckered asshole, perfect for fingering, or sticking my tongue into. I could feel her struggling futilely to get free, as I pressed her down against my thighs, mashing her teen titties into my legs, as I held her firmly with one arm and with the other hand I slapped her bum hard, very hard, for being such a bad girl. "I would love to spank her, she deserves it", I continued in my little daydream.

My reverie was interrupted by a cheery voice. "Come on everyone, let's go out to the courtyard, and set off the fireworks" It was Leslie Backstrom our events coordinator just doing her job. A part of the Diwalli celebrations was the ceremonial lighting of firecrackers to drive off evil spirits. Meera, has suggested that we do this, during the party as a form of entertainment. Speaking of Meera- where was she?

I looked around the room and though my vision was a little blurry, it was clear that our Indian goddess had vanished. Perhaps, off to another reality, and a new incarnation, I thought to myself, and I chuckled. Who knows what sort of Karma, Meera had going on. Then I mentally grabbed a hold of myself. This dope, is taking me down some strange alleys, I realized. Time to deal with reality. I had an overwhelming instinct that I should find Meera, right now, before something else happened at this party that I was not comfortable with.

I decided to check the second floor, where we had a few classrooms, and the kitchen, as well a gym type room that was used for teaching yoga. As I reached the second floor, it was quiet, and I thought that I might have to look elsewhere for Meera, but then I heard a sound, a voice, but it wasn't Meera's . I walked further down the hallway, listening. Then I heard it again, it sounded like Mary Steven's voice, and she way saying " Yes, yes, yes, that's it, do it, " . What the hell was going on?

A s I reached the Yoga room, I had my answer, though I was very much hidden in the darkness of the hall, I had a perfect view of the goings on inside . The door to the room was open, and there on her knees, bent over, her nun's habit flung up, and her white fleshy bum and legs exposed, was Mary Steven's . Not a a bad ass for a 50 year old, I thought, certainly not the perfect buns that Meera had, and she was fleshy,and not really firm, but still her skin was unmarked and did not have any cellulite, it looked as if she did not expose herself to the sun very often. Her whitish skin had a timeless quality to it and for a mature woman she looked quite fuckable to me. And there with her little angel face shoved up into Mary's bum crack was Meera, obviously giving Mary the rim job of a life time. Mary was desperately trying to give young Meera access to her bum, and Meera was equally determined to shove her tongue up her asshole and eat her.

"Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, yesssss," gurgled Mary as Meera 's delicate pink tongue invaded Mary's anus.

I noticed that there was an open mickey of what looked to be Tequilla and a couple of half filled glasses, on a small table near to this sex show. This was Meera's doing, there was no way in the world Mary Stevens would ever offer alcohol to an underage teen. Mary had been hit by the double whammy of dope and tequila, and, and all of her middle age inhibitions had been swept away .She was now surrendering to her deepest and darkest desires, and obviously those desires included, having sex with a sexy teenage girl and letting her get into her panties and get her off. Meera was quite high too – she was really enthusiastic in her attack on this poor womans asshole, it was an assault worthy of General Patton ( for those of you too young to know what I am talking about, - all you need to know is that he was one hell of attacking general )

After Meera finished with Mary's bum hole she began to work on the older woman's cunt, slurping her pussy juice as if she was drinking from a fountain. Mary, by her continued moaning ( she almost sounded like a praying nun of sorts) was obviously in heaven. You had to be there to fully appreciate the oddity of the sight. Meera, all decked out in her Indian finery, doing this Nun woman with a large Christian cross dangling down from her neck. It was deliciously perverted. I could not believe that this was the second time I had stumbled across Meera engaged in somewhat unusual sexual acts. This was becoming a bit of a habit. But, I had to admit, one that was quite a turn on!

Meera through this whole process was very silent, (she never did say too much). But god was she busy. After she gave Mary's cunt a good sucking and licking, she began to furiously finger her; first one finger, then two, then three, and finally her small but solid fist, disappeared up Mary's ever widening cunt.

Mary was starting to get delirious from the assault on her nether regions. Her breathing was getting ragged, and she almost seemed to gasping for breath. But this did not stop or even slow Meera down. With her free hand, she undid the straps that held up Mary's nun costume and exhibiting great dexterity quickly had her blouse open and with a snap and a pull, had freed Mary's large white fleshy tits from their brassiere. These were a pair of tits that obviously had suckled a few children, with large reddish brown nipples and matching areoles, they were quite huge and more than a bit saggy, but Meera seemed to be relishing them.

"I love your tits Mary", Meera finally spoke, "they are so big, and soft. I wish I had big beautiful breasts like you"

Mary, just grunted by way of acknowledgement, as she was lost, in the building friction from Meera's continuing fisting of her now dripping pussy. Meera did not seem to care that Mary didn't or could not speak to her. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted to do, which amazed me for one so young. She seemed to sexually experienced, but how could it be?

With a gentle push and prod Meera, indicated that she wanted Mary to lie down on her back, which Mary did. Then Meera buried her face in Mary's huge breasts and began to suck on them, at the same time as she continued to slam her slim fist into Mary and deeper she went up into Mary's ever widening vagina. This breast sucking really was pushing Mary over the top, as she began to buck and thrust her pelvis her strong legs straining upwards -- struggling for a release that would not come yet.

Meera was playfully holding Mary's arms down and then somehow she got out of her own sari top, exposing her own exquisite mounds ;the teen was lying on top of Mary, her firm small tits pressed up against the elderly woman's large floppy red tipped ones. Meera kissed Mary hard on the mouth, and slipped her tongue inside Mary's mouth, and began to french her.

From what I could see from my vantage point in that hall, It seemed to me that through her drug induced, tequila haze Mary finally comprehended at a very deep level that she was being utterly possessed, and taken by a teenage girl.

And though I was sure that Mary thought of herself as heterosexual (in my humble opinion we are all somewhat bi) and probably at some level was disgusted with herself, ( a less inebriated state Mary, would have never let this happen), the fact remained was that she had let it happen--- and as much as part of her did not want to accept it, her body was talking and it was clear that she was loving every minute of the sex. Yes, Meera's pink little tongue, was the final ingredient, the icing on the cake, that pushed Mary over the edge, forcing her to cave in, and surrender to the sexual power of this girl/ woman.

As Meera's tongue and kissing became more passionate, it was not too long before the older woman began to respond to Meera quite forcefully by jamming her own tongue into Meera's mouth, and soon was sucking on Meera's tongue and face, as if she wanted to swallow her.

It was extremely erotic to watch the girl and the older woman caress and build towards climax. The juxtaposition of Meera with her lithe feline animal like grace and the stolid, very matronly, soft all encompassing flesh of Mary, was a sexual marvel, a wonder all on its own ;somehow they seemed so to natural together, so right --- And extremely hot!

I could see by the way Mary was moving and touching Meera, that Mary, (whatever her sexual orientation) had real affection for Meera and her young beauty ; and it was also clear that she was very appreciative of the young teen's attentions to her burning pussy and tits. I guessed, she probably wasn't getting too much from her old man at home these days- a common problem in long term relationships.

After a few minutes of furious making out, slurping and the friction of hot wet tits rubbing against each other, Mary got her release, exploding in an enormous, noisy, orgasm ; their sweaty breasts almost glued together, and Meera's brown delicate fist continuing to slide rhythmically in and out of Mary's sopping, hot, tangled black and grey bush, in time with her orgasmic spasms.

It was all I could do, not to pull off my own clothes and join them. But since that did not seem like a realistic option. I decided a quiet retreat was in order – I did not want to embarrass Mary, who was really a victim in all of this, and I had to think about what I wanted to do with/ and to Meera. This needed some time and planning. I began to tiptoe away from the orgy, but I guess I was higher than I realized and my foot brushed against the door of the yoga room, making a clear thudding sound. Mary, didn't budge or seem to notice, she was lost in her cum bliss.

But Meera's head swiveled as if it was on a pivot, and I found myself staring right into her coal black eyes, that burned with an almost hypnotic intensity. In that moment she was a vision, Lakshmi come to life, her full lips were moist from her kissing and sucking, and her taut soft brown skin had a slight sheen of sweat covering it, her long black hair hung gloriously free--- her slim young body seemed to glow, and her two small tits and hard little nipples were pointing at me almost defiantly .

She was truly beautiful in the way only a young girl can be, the essence of femininity, un spoiled, unmarked, and inexperienced in all of life's trials and tribulations, but paradoxically all woman and full of all the creative juices that we crave.

For what seemed like eternity we just stared at each other, I wanted to say something, anything, but my mouth was, dry, very dry. Then Meera, sort of half smiled and almost it seemed, shrugged her shoulders, as if to say "so what's the big deal" . I had no comeback, no response, I just broke off our little eye game, and half stumbled, and half ran down the hall, back to the relative safety of the Diwalli celebrations.