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The Maharani - Part Two: Goray Lal

Parvati knew that while her father was alive and in good health she and her child were safe, but what if something were to happen to him?

She began preparing for that eventuality.

From the Brahmins she learnt how to read and write. She knew neither because it was not thought necessary for girls to be literate, not even those of high birth. So, she had to start at the bottom-- the alphabet. From there she progressed in leaps and bounds, eventually reading whatever she could get her hands on -- from the classics to the most modern tomes that her father had collected in the Royal Library. Concomitantly she sat down with the Brahmins everyday to learn about Philosophy, Religion, Economics, Governance, Warfare and anything else they cared to throw at her.

She learnt all the physical aspects of warfare -- hand to hand fighting, effective wielding of a sword, archery, and proficient horse riding. She was tall, lithe and well coordinated. Her strength would never be the equal of a man's but by using her natural attributes she was able to subdue most of the men she trained with.

She used Yoga to keep her body supple and strong and her mind sharp. She never indulged in alcohol or cannabis (not even during the spring festival of Holi when most people, men mainly, consumed large quantities of either and went wild). And her diet was strictly vegetarian.

Her father was so impressed with her that he made her his prime minister. To do this he had to retire the incumbent who was a distant cousin. This cousin went grumbling, about women not knowing their place, to his familial estates in a neighboring kingdom.

She knew then that she was finally safe. Because, if now something were to happen to her father she was in a position to declare herself as the next ruler and she would have the power of her position to back it up.

She had one addiction if you could call it that, just one chink in her otherwise impregnable armor. Yes this paragon of virtue had one flaw - she had developed an appetite for sex. Mahmud had opened up a part of her that she had not known existed. From a conventional Hindu woman who submerged her identity in the universal maleness of Hindu tradition she had progressed to recognizing her needs and aspirations and carving out a new identity for herself. Prominent in all this was her need for sex. She had to have sex constantly. Not every minute nor even every day -- she was not a nymphomaniac. But fairly regularly if she was to keep her mental equilibrium stable. And certainly not the male initiated sex that was the norm but sex in which she took a positive role and was at least an equal partner in the pursuit of gratification.

She chose her lovers carefully. Her first was a shy young man who worked in the royal stables. He was of a high caste but had fallen on bad times when his father had died suddenly. He was forced to work while a distant relative tried to arrange getting him married into a rich family.

She noticed him for the first time when she returned one day quite frazzled from trying to control her horse. These were the early days of her return to her father's kingdom. She was still learning the essentials of riding and her instructor had her mount this rather nervous horse. It had been a stressful time for both horse and rider.

The young man had soothed her horse into complete docility in next to no time. He had a powerful physique, broad shoulders and tree trunk thighs. But it was the gentleness and sensitivity with which he handled her horse that impressed her.

She observed him covertly from then on. The more she saw of him the more her desire to fuck him grew. He was eminently fuckable and eminently available. But she was not going to let her lust screw up her secure existence. She made certain that efforts to get him married were underway and that he would most likely be hooked up with a woman from another Kingdom. Then, she made her move.

She turned up at the stables one day when she knew he would be the only attendant. He was working on one of the King's horses; busy grooming it, so it would look handsome and regal for the upcoming Shivratri festival when the King would ride in royal splendor to the Shiv temple to seek the blessings of the Destroyer.

He was sweating from his exertion. And smelling of it too. The sheer maleness of the smell only heightened her lust. Dear God, she was ready to be fucked if the stench of sweat made her horny! A long time, or so it seemed, had elapsed since Mahmud's prong had left her willing cunt unfilled. She draped her willowy frame against a mud wall and observed archly, "What would it take to rub me down like that?" She was not going to waste time getting to the point.

So engrossed was he in his grooming that her voice startled him. He fell forward and almost got kicked by the horse for his trouble. He ended up under the stallion on his back looking up at her with a silly look on his face. "Really," she said impishly, her hands behind her back pressed up against the wall, her left leg bent at the knee with a comely foot resting on the wall behind her, "all I asked for was a rub down and look at you, ready to perform in a dance drama." "Ga, ga," he offered from his supine pose. "No silly, not Ganga. Maybe Shakuntala if you know your dance dramas at all."

Then, relenting, she pulled him up into a sort of standing position. Sort of, because the presence of the King's daughter had flexed him into a question mark broken only by both his hands closed into fists under his chin. It was all he could do to stop his teeth from chattering. He was in the presence of royalty, embarrassed and frightened - this was the King's daughter. A Princess, no less. He may be of high caste but knew his place in society. He had been brought up giving deference to royalty.

Then the full meaning of what she had said sank in. Still trembling he looked up at her -- could she be serious, a rub down from him? He was young, with the horniness that goes with youth and so despite his subservient position in the social order, sexual excitement coursed like a red hot fire through every fiber of his being, snapping his cock into erection.

He had worshipped her from afar, for her beauty, her lissome figure, the freedom of her movements, her tall regal bearing, her unaffected friendliness and ravishing smile. Completely unattainable, only to be viewed from the corner of the eyes with the head bent in respect. But now he gazed head on at her, in wonder, at the coquettish expression on her face.

Parvati took his hands away from under his chin and gently stroking them, said, "So strong so rough from all the hard work." Then she moved her hands over his face, "So prickly," she cooed. He had not visited the barber for a few days. Then her hands moved onto his shoulders, then chest and then gradually further south, inexorably moving down. No point in wasting time, she was horny!

He began squirming with embarrassment. "Oo," she chuckled, "the young man has been having bad thoughts," as her hands found his rock hard penis.

She slipped a hand under his clothes and grasped his naked and very stiff prick. He gasped and almost passed out. This divine being, this deity, had actually held his cock in her perfect hand! His next excited exhalation showered her face with a fine mist of spittle.

While one hand daintily wiped her face the other was busy stroking his raging cock. Her stroking of his penis had its desired effect. After all this was a horny young man with the object of his virginal desires fondling his cock. In next to no time he felt a fire in his groin and then in the next instant with a groan he came; prolonged and in copious amounts, coating them both in slime.

Very embarrassed now that his fire was spent, he did his best to move away. But she would not let his penis out of her grasp. She relentlessly kept on caressing his now semen slick organ through his orgasm, not letting his proud member shrink. She released the string that held up his trousers and with an authoritative upward movement of her head made him remove his upper garment so that he stood naked as the day he was born, before her. She moved closer and ran her lips over his, even as her free hand encircled his head and drew him in. Her tongue crept out and sensuously played with his lips. He gasped more with shock than embarrassment.

Then as she continued playing sensuously with him, the natural horniness of a young man took over. He awkwardly groped her breasts. When she made no move to stop him, he got more adventurous and moved his hand under her blouse and clasped a naked breast. He felt the rubbery nipple and softly pinched it. To his delight it firmed up and seemed to crave more attention.

Now he was really getting into it. His embarrassment was waning even as his lust was waxing. His other hand now found her mound and got busy massaging it. Again, when she showed no resistance he pushed it under her clothes. He almost died when he felt the luxurious pubic hair and soft vaginal lips. And when he shoved a finger past the soft squishy petals, she let out an involuntary gasp. This prompted him to kiss her pure lips and she responded by shoving her tongue into his mouth. Briefly their tongues played together even as he worked his finger in and out of her cunt. Then she held his face firmly in her hands and pushed it downwards till it was level with the fork in her thighs, his finger came uncorked as his mouth reached her thighs. She released her sari and underclothes in one fell move and they crumpled at her feet. She daintily stepped out of them and pressed his face into her naked hairy feminine center.

The horny young man had no idea what was expected of him. His nostrils were filled with the smell of her arousal. Repugnant, yet so enticing. Tentatively his tongue brushed her vaginal lips. She sighed with pleasure. This encouraged him to carry on. Eager to please he proceeded to lavish the whole area with excited attention from his tongue.
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