Nidhi stood, bored, on the train station platform in Paris. Rohit and his brother Rohan were her traveling companions/guards. Although there was no fear of an assassination attempt, kidnapping was always a fear.
Her brothers, who both held executive positions within their father’s company, never traveled without their assorted minions. Neha stayed mostly in the US, where kidnapping was not as much of a worry although she did have two guards assigned to her at all times. But Nidhi, who spent most of her time in Europe, was the one greatest at risk.
Where Neha was blonde, Nidhi had long dark hair the color of night. Where Neha had green eyes, Nidhi had eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea. Where Neha was blessed with skin warm and honey-colored, Nidhi had skin so light, so fair, it was like white alabaster. Where Neha was soft and curvy, Nidhi was tall, lanky and boney.
And there she stood, in her practical navy Chanel suit with matching practical spectator pumps, waiting on Rohit. He had run off to attend to some last minute thing and left her, the luggage and his brother standing beside the steaming, stinking train. Nidhi preferred Paris. It is where her mother called home.
Papa lived in Italy, on a sprawling estate that consisted of vast vineyards and gardens. Mama lived in a large but cozy manse inside the city of Paris. Nidhi, although she was well over 21, chose to live with her mother. She loved Paris almost as much as mama. And London, which was so very close to Paris. She made a point of visiting papa at least twice a year.
She did adore Italy but papa could be a bit of a bore. She frowned pensively since this was not one of her scheduled visits. She had received a phone call from papa yesterday insisting he had to see her in Italy at once. And so here she was. Nidhi hated to fly. It was something her parents had tried to break her from and failed miserably.
Years and money spent on therapy had provided little result. She certainly could tolerate flying more but she still did not enjoy it. So if at all possible, she traveled by land or sea. Hence, that is why she was standing on a train platform in this dreadful Paris station. She sighed and looked at her watch.
She dreaded her meeting with her father but she wanted to get on the train and get settled. She wanted to be at her best and rested when she saw him. She wondered what was keeping Rohit and was about to ask his brother when the missing man turned up.
“Sorry for the delay, Miss Nidhi, we can board now,” he offered in way of explanation as he took her elbow and Rohan took up the luggage. She had secured a private compartment; money will do that, so that she would not be bothered enroute. Once the luggage had been stored, she made herself comfortable with a pot of tea and a magazine she had brought along from home.
The train soon departed, rolling along slowly. The men stationed themselves in the hall outside her compartment door, making sure she was not interrupted. Soon, she was lulled into relaxation by the sway of the train, her warm tea and her light reading. Then she knew she was ready.
She set the magazine aside and stood, slipping out of her jacket and laying it neatly upon the seat. Then in her blouse and skirt, she went to the compartment door and slid it open. “Rohit, it is time,” she said to him and turned to reenter the compartment. “Yes, Miss Nidhi,” he followed her inside, sliding shut the door.
She moved to the center of the compartment and unbuttoned her skirt, letting it fall to the floor and stepping out of it. She bent, picked it up, folded it and lay on top of the jacket. She turned to face Rohit wearing nothing but her white silk blouse, navy thigh high stockings and her spectator pumps. She rarely wore panties.
He reached down and undid his pants, freeing his cock as he rushed at her, “You are such a slut.” Then he had her pressed against the window, the landscape outside rushing past as he pushed her blouse up, then her bra, freeing her large buoyant breasts. His hands cupped them then his mouth found them and began to suck and nipple at them, teeth tearing at the delicate flesh.
“More!” she cried out as she arched her neck, her knees bending, reaching around him, pulling at him, aching for him. “This what you want, bitch?” he asked as he slid his hard cock inside her wetness. He was so thick, thicker than her wrist and long…oh so very long. She could feel him moving deeper inside her, her hips bucked up against him to get more, always more.
The back of her head pressed against the cool window. “Yes!” she cried out but he knew she would. This is what she wanted, needed, begged for, desired, and lived for, to be fucked like this with such reckless abandon. Soon, he was slamming into her like a train, her bare ass bouncing against the glass. He plunged deeper, harder, his mouth beside her ear.
She could hear his grunts as he fucked her like an animal. He was soundless and soulless, using her cunt to get off. It thrilled her to no end. As he continued to push inside her, she took him in, her pussy working him, squeezing him, caressing him, and cajoling him into giving her more. She wrapped around him tightly and held on.
He was huge and it felt delicious to have him filling her to bursting. She was close, so close, but she needed more. It seemed she always needed more. “More!” she begged him. “The whore wants more? I know how she likes it.” He grinned at her as he slid his cock, slick with her juices, from her aching throbbing pussy and turned her around,
one hand on the back of her neck pressing her face against the window. His other hand guided his thick cock into her ass, pushing it in past the tight first circle until he was firmly inside. “You want this, don’t you, slut?” “Yes, fuck yes!” she screamed, uncontrollably, as his thickness moved slowly inside her. He was so fat, he was tearing her apart.
But she didn’t care. It was the fullness she craved, the fullness she needed more than live. And he was inside her, further, deeper. Every moment another one of bliss until he was inside and his hands went to her hips as he began to fuck her ass. She cried out in agony at the first thrusts. She did every time. He was huge and it hurt but the pain was infinitely sweet.
He soon began a steady rhythm of push and pull. Thankfully, her juices helped to lubricate the way. Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she could not, would not stop. This was what she needed, this is what she wanted, and this is what she deserved. His thrusts were coming faster now. He leaned down by her ear and growled, “Beg, bitch, beg.”
And she did. She could not help herself. “Please…cum…please…cum…in…my…ass. I beg you…please…cum…in…my…ass! Please….please…cum….please…cum.” Soon her words ran together with her tears, her moans of pain, and her cries of pleasure until it sounded just like breathing. “Keep begging. Keep begging, you whore!”
And she did as his fingers gripped the flesh at her hips, pulling her hard against him. As his cock jack hammered into her ass again and again, stretching her wider than she had ever been. As her face, her body, pressed against the window gave testament to all of what she was, who she was. “Please…cum!”
And he did, shooting stream after jetting stream of his seed deep into her bowels, howling in triumph, head back, at filling her so savagely. Perhaps she thought she was using him but he was using her as well. He continued pummeling her ass until every drop of his seed was spilled.
Then, grabbing her by the hair as he slid from inside her, he turned her again and forced her to her knees at his feet, “Now clean me off, you cunt.” And she did, taking his cock inside her mouth and sucking him clean of his cum and her feces. She had cum as well, when he had. Her orgasm had not been quite as vocal but it was intense nonetheless.
Her pale cheeks flushed now from her exertions as he looked down at her, watching her work. When he was satisfied, he patted her cheek. “Good girl,” he praised her as he zipped up his pants and exited the compartment, sliding the door behind him with a hollow thud. Nidhi slid the back of her hand over her mouth.
The taste of Rohit was pungent upon her tongue. But it was something she needed, something she had begun to obsess about. Even now with the echoing thud of the door sliding shut still ringing in her ears, she wanted him. She knew in her heart it was wrong. Wrong to let this man, this employee of her father, hired to protect her to use her in such a rude and vulgar way.
But she did. She loved it when he fucked her ass. She had come to depend upon it like an addiction. Every time she let him use her, she needed more. She did not understand the need inside her. She could not wrap her mind around the fact that for some reason she needed to have this man use and degrade her.
Everyone that knew her, her family, her friends, thought she was this prim and proper society girl. If only they could see her now, kneeling half dressed upon the train compartment floor, her ass having just been thoroughly fucked by her bodyguard. She stood and looked about the compartment.