Date: 13 Mar 2002 09:54:10 -0000
From: Alisha Mathew A <alisha69ksk@rediffmail.com>
Subject: The Magic Glove By Alisha

			 The Magic Glove By Alisha

Please send your comments to alisha69ksk@rediffmail.com
	Special thanks to Vaibhav for suggestions

The train was moving slowly, it had been running very slow for past two
hours, it was supposed to be a super fast train with few stops but it was
running like a local train. I was on my journey to meet my husband. He was
posted on the frontiers. I received a telegram from him asking me to join
him for the summer vacation. In fact I was expecting him to come to my
place and spend a vacation on the southern parts of the country. But our
programs were disrupted due to sudden tensions between countries in the
region. So my husband was shifted to the frontiers and he was asking me to
join him there. My holiday dreams were all shattered. But I proceeded to
meet my husband as I knew he was on some secret mission. It was turbulent
times in our country. The duty and workload was eating him, he was keeping
late nights and his health was deteriorating for the past few years.

He was a romantic when we first met at Delhi. They were a bunch of fresh
army officers, they joked about us when I and my friends were eating famous
Nerula Ice creams at Cannaught Place, heart of Delhi. I was mesmerized by
his style and haircut. They made passes at us when we sit there. It was his
sparkling eyes, piercing into my body which attracted me. Then we met so
many times at the same place and finally he proposed me. I was unable to
resist his charms, we were married in the summer. But as he climbed the
ladders he got more and more secretive, tough and silent. He had little
time to talk to me, he was always working at night, he talked about things,
which never interested me. So I was feeling that our married life is
getting so cold and indifferent. In our honeymoon he never left me for even
a moment. He came to bathroom even when I was shitting. We were always
naked like Adam and Eve in Eden garden. He talked sweet nothings, he kissed
every inch of my body, his tongue entered each crevice of me, and his thick
moustache lingered at each of my contours and folds. He entered me every
half an hour. He seemed to be an insatiable man. He did not want me to
repay his oral administrations. When I tried to kiss his penis and take it
in my mouth, he just brushed me away, he said it was ticklish to him. But
he did all those naughty things to me, his long tongue reamed my butt hole,
I begged him always to stop but he went on until I was spent and slept. I
woke up with his mouth kissing between my thighs on my lower lips. When did
we start receding apart?, I don't know. When he became a Major he stopped
kissing me, he started making demands. He made me to suck his penis always
like a dog crawling naked under his feet. He began to behave like a master
to me, he started fucking me in the ass, and he never bothered about my
frontal orifices. At fist it was pain, sheer pain, but soon I started
lubricating my rectum to suit his taste, now a days I forgot all about my
pussy. I am now afraid that my pussy may soon start shitting as my ass was
doing job of a pussy. Why these army men always prefer ass to a pussy?

The train again stopped. I went to the urinal and I was surprised to find
local people, beggars etc sitting on the corridors. It was common in local
and fast trains, but beggars in super fast trains, that amused me. A lady
with an ugly face and a kid was sleeping in the corridors, an old man was
sitting near her. They looked at me with contempt and hatred. I looked for
the ticket examiner or compartment attendant. None were there, it was past
midnight. I went inside the lavatory and bolted. The latch was not good
most of its screws were lost and one could open it with a hit. I latched it
from inside but it was loose coupled. I was wearing a salwar which is a
loose pants held at its place using a cord made of cotton, and a long rob
reaching up to my knees as its upper portion. It was better for train
journeys, as it gave more space and elasticity and unlike jeans it never
suffocated my pussy as there was more room inside.  I could see outside
corridor, sitting on the commode. It was eastern style commode, you have to
squat sitting on your legs, I gave a long fart unabashedly. The junk food
they supplied full of pulses was making my stomach a gas chamber. Then came
a jerk, The train started moving again, the door moved inside, I could see
the corridor well, I wondered if the people sitting at corridors could see
me vice versa, then they could see my pussy. Oh shit!, I looked at
outside. I could see the beggar woman's face, she was moving to and fro as
the train caught its motion. Well, what was she having in her mouth. My
god!, she is sucking at a penis, that old man who is a grandpa to her was
making her suck his penis. That too, in a moving train's corridor, it was
possible that anyone could make an appearance anytime.

Fuck those horny beggars. Traveling alone amidst of such wild people!, I
cursed my husband. Then I saw the beggar woman rolling fully on her
stomach. She kept on sucking the old man's black penis fiercely. I felt she
was going to root that thing out. But the fellow was sitting idle with a
bidi ( cheap cigarettes made of leaves and tobacco) and the nasty smell of
the bidi was making the air conditioned compartment polluted. I was
finished but if I unbolt the door and appear before them I would be
breaking the spell of sucking. I knew how hard she had to try to get sperm
out of that old worn out penis, his balls were reaching the floors and his
pubic hairs have gone gray!. How could he cum at such an old age, who was
the beggar woman?, his wife or his keep?, I wondered. My legs were
aching. I stood up and washed my face, the water was sticky, and tasting
the rust. Had they stopped, I looked again through the door the latch was
not good, three of its screws were missing, and only one was keeping it at
its position. They were still busy, I could not see their faces but I could
guess that the show was going on. I looked around the lavatory, the walls
of lavatory was decorated with drawings made by pensil, pen, charcoal, they
reminded me those erotic paintings on our temples, but here it was more
crude and there were lot of scribbled messages like 'mumh mein lund dalo,
chute + lund =maja' meaning suck the cock, pussy+cock=pleasure etc
etc. There were lots of crude drawings about human genitalia. The
lavatories of Indian trains are our only sexual education centers, it
seemed. I bet most of the writings were written by educated decent men, who
would be sitting against us wearing their safari suits reading economic
reviews, posing as great architects of wisdom and business magnets. Our
train was a costly train and people who got sound financial background can
only travel in such fully air conditioned super fast trains. Perhaps those
elite people have found out that the lavatories gave them a white board,
which offered great temptation to release their sexual tension and behave
in their raw form. After the one and only place where society might not
prey on them were the lavatories.

I might have spent a lot of time reading those scribbling and naughty
pictures, I was shocked when the latch gave way and the door was opened. I
was yet to adjust my panties and salwar bottom, I looked back and saw the
intruder was the black beggar woman with her dress hiked up, "maf
kijiye,muchko malum nahintha aap yehi hai (sorry, I was not aware that you
are still here)", saying this she sat on the commode and in the next second
she urinated. It seemed her bladder was full and she was dying for
releasing it. She did not mind me standing there, and then she never
bothered about anyone while she was sucking on a public place. I tried to
move away and tried to tie my salwar around my waist, but the string
attached was broken in my hurry and one end was completely out of the
hole. 'Shit', I muttered. It was very unusual to have the cord broken, but
I might have applied more pressure and it gave way. I had to take the whole
cord outside and join them and again insert into the hole. Its just like
wearing a belt through the hooks made for it, here instead of the hook, it
was a single whole which covered the whole waistline of the pant type
dress. The fucking pants now dropped to my ankles. I could not adjust it
outside. So I bolted again using the latch and stood leaning against it
fearing more intruders. While I was trying to join the cord, I was able to
see the lady facing me still pissing unbothered. She was much younger than
I was thought, perhaps about 30, if only she had washed and properly
dressed she would be an average beauty. But she was coated with dust and
her hairs had never seen oil for a long time. She smelled of raw garlic and
mustard oil. I could see her wide pussy and the full flow of yellow urine,
which had hit my feet with its force. How could she held that much amount
of piss in her bladders, I wondered. Then the flow slowed and ended with
tiny drops. She took water from the side pipe in her hands and was cleaning
her pussy. So she was bit hygienic, I was expecting her to make hurry out
of the place. She washed her cunt using the water thrice and she used a
finger to spread her pussy wider and I could see the rose inner folds of
her labia and began to clean there also. I got bit jealous seeing her
pussy, her labia was pink like a fresh cut meat, my labia never had such a
rose or pink color. This ugly beggar woman had a nice pussy, there was not
much hair, just sufficient and her pubic triangle had symmetry about it. I
concentrated again to join the chord. I tied the pieces of cord together by
a navy man's knot but it did not enter the hole to which it had to be
placed. I had no safety pin; if only I had a safety pin I could have made a
nice joint of it. I looked at the woman and asked if she had a pin. In
India women use safety pins in place of hooks for their blouses, to prevent
the sary from falling down from the shoulders, to prevent the bra straps
from becoming visible, to keep money tied close to the secret pockets made
near their genitalia so that no pickpocket could grab at it, and for a lot
of various other tasks. So a safety pin is an object which Indian women
always keep handy.

The woman smiled at me and stopped her pussy washing. Still sitting there
on the commode, she searched around her blouse and in the process she
opened her blouse and her big breasts were free. She had no bra inside; she
had bigger melons than I presumed. I felt smaller to her in that
department, she had very good well-shaped tits, very firm tits, she was
searching for the pin but did not find any. 'Nahin (No)', she said but gave
me a sign that she would fix it up. Without bothering to close her boobs,
she took the pieces of the cord from my hand and kneeling before me, she
used her teeth to smooth the end of the cord and after wetting with her
saliva she knotted it again, this time it was a smaller and firmer knot
than I had earlier made. She inserted one end of the cord into the
waistline hole and tried to move it inside the channel using her fingers
moving round my waist. The half of the portion went smoothly inside the
whole and when the knot entered the path, it began to move at ease. But she
was using her fingers at both sides expertly and in the process the knot
started moving inside. She was keeping her face so close to my navel that I
felt her hot breath on my navel. She was having difficulty to move the knot
at the middle portion of my pants. She used two fingers one to advance it
and the other to pull it from the other side. In this process, her other
fingers were lingering around my waistline and her small fingers were
entering my buttock channel for support. The knot got almost stuck at the
point near middle portion of my buttocks, but she was trying again by
making the folds bigger slightly pinching around my butt. I felt ticklish
with her fingers moving around my waistline, her small fingers were digging
more deep into my buttocks and my tiny hairs there were aroused like goose
bumps. Meanwhile she was moving her face so close to my panty line making
ticklish there. When she made more progress with the knot my panty was
getting lowered in the process. I could feel her hot breath like a hair
drier applied to my hairline started just below my navel and moving towards
my fine bush at my pubis. I tried to move away when I could not help the
ticklishness anymore and when I jerked away , she applied more force at my
butt, duly lowering my panties bit by bit. The knot had started moving
again I could feel that she was going to get the other end of the cord out
of the other end of hole, as I felt she searching for it at the other
end. The again the knot moved dead, if had moved forward one inch or so she
could have got the other end. I thanked her for her efforts in my mind, I
could not have done it myself.

She seemed agitated at the final obstacle she arrived. She applied more
force all over the waistline to move the cord to and fro. My panties duly
lowered in the process and the upper portion of my moons was outside the
panties. I looked at her from the top. I felt gratitude towards her, she
was trying really hard expecting no returns. I could see her cleavage
coated with her sweat caused by her efforts, and her breasts were still
dangling freely with those black jutting nipples. The women in the northern
region have very long nipples, where as my nipples were so small, just like
two little buttons. I got slight envy seeing the woman's jutting
teats. Then I felt her lips pressing my pubic hair, my panties were lowered
completely and my entire pussy mound was free like the woman's dangling
breasts. The hot breath was heating my pussy, she was so close to my pussy
with her lips touching here and there and the knot still stuck in its
position. Was she not aware of my condition, my pussy hairs were blown by
her hot breath and I was feeling a leakage somewhere inside my pussy glands
and slowly running down. Then the cord moved in and she caught the other
end expertly and pulled it out she looked at me and I gave her a smile of
gratitude.  I tried to hike up my panties and tight the pants by tying the
cord in place, but the woman had other things in her mind. She pulled my
pants in one stretch and my panties followed it. I was made standing naked
and the woman was fervently kissing me, straight on my pussy decorate with
a fine growth of pubic hair. She was kissing me all over my pubic
region. She moved me clockwise and anticlockwise and was kissing on my
butts, arse and again coming back to my pubes.  She then licked on my
fleshy thighs, and while doing this she parted my butts and her little
finger entered my asshole. She was behaving like a child who had found
candy which she was deprived for a long time. I found my legs weakening and
she too forced me to move down until I was lying on the wet floor. I could
still smell the urine of both of us, and god knows how many else. But she
parted my legs wide and she was kissing me right on my inner vagina. She
parted me wider and moved me towards her eager mouth by taking my butt in
her hands and slightly elevating me so that my buttocks would not touch the
ugly floor. She was caring me to have a comfortable position and at the
same time eagerly munching my pussy. She used her skilled tongue and found
the little clit I had and soon she concentrated around that small
protruding button. I was enjoying the pleasure of a good pussy licking
after a long period. She took the tiny pebble right between her lips and
like a child feeding from a breast started feeding from my clit. It was too
much, my head was spinning as if I was being taken to a heaven, unknown to
me which existed all the time. 'Ooohh..Aaaaaaaaaagggggggg', I cooed. Then a
climax hit me like a volcano exploded. I lay naked on the floor.

When I came to senses the lady had hooked her blouse and was washing her
mouth using her finger in place of brush. I stood up and dressed, the train
was stopped again. There was no movement, I opened the door and looked for
the old man. He was snoring on the floor. I went to my cabin and looked
outside through the dusty window. I could not see anything, it must have
been an abandoned station. Then I heard shouts and cries. I closed my cabin
from inside and looked at my fellow travelers. One fat man was snoring on
the upper berth, his wife was also deep asleep. Just opposite to me was a
young college girl sleeping peacefully. There were thuds and someone threw
a stone to our compartment. I saw our window glass, slightly broken. Soon
so many stones were hitting the train and there were cries and shouts. Our
window glass creaked like a spider's web. Someone hit at our cabin door, I
bolted another latch. The train was not moving. Then we heard gunshots and
I looked at my watch it was almost 4 o' clock in the morning.

It was after one hour my fellow passengers awake and the fat man opened the
cabin door and he fell back unconscious. I looked outside and saw our
opposite cabin smashed open and travelers attacked.  Some were crying for
help, I stepped out and saw the beggar woman's body lying in a pool of
blood. Her companion the old man was also smashed at his head. I jumped
inside and again bolted our cabin. After two hours the dawn came. The
police and forces knocked our cabin and we opened it. There was some
communal riots started unexpectedly and a local train carrying people was
burnt alive. Our train was not much attacked but some miscreants tried
robberies and the beggar families sitting at the corridors were killed. It
was declared that the train services had disrupted indefinitely. The
passengers went out in search of food. It was a small abandoned station
where the train stopped. Travelers were helping each other with food and
water. The railway authorities conveyed that it might take one or two days
to resume traffic. I asked them for telephone, there were none. Fortunately
the fat guy handed me his cell phone. I contacted the nearest military camp
and conveyed my message to my husband. After a few minutes they called me
back giving message that my husband was transferred to north east region
and was not presently reachable. If that was the case there was no meaning
for I to proceed further to north. I had to return home for safe but nobody
knew when was the next train. I contacted the military camp again and
sought their help. They promised me to send a vehicle and take me to a
motel about 20 miles from there. They told me that the region was safe and
predominantly a military area. They had arranged accommodation and promised
to contact my husband meanwhile. I thought it was great idea, and agreed to
their suggestion. I gave the cell phone back to the fat man and told I was
abandoning my journey and going back to south. Then the young girl
traveling in our cabin asked me if she could also come with me. She was
going for an interview and since there was no chance of reaching there on
time, she too decided to go back to her place. She was begging me for some
help. I did not know if the military people would allow taking her along
with me. I told her I would have to ask them first and if they would permit
I would take her along with me. I took my luggage out of the compartment
and while leaving the train I sadly looked at the blood stains of the
unknown woman who had pleased me hours before.

The jeep arrived promptly after some time, they had no objection taking the
girl with me. So we jumped into the jeep, the orderly helped us with the
luggage. After one hour journey through the country roads we reached a
motel. It was a Victorian type building. There was an old man at the
counter, he gave key to me. When I took my purse for paying advance the
orderly said the charges would be taken care by them. They bid goodbye to
me and we were taken to our room by the manager.

(To be continued)