Oh my!
Madam, apke per makkhan jaise ho jayenge – I still remember that comment!
This goes deeper though. Much deeper!
This morning as I lay there in bed thinking of Bhagwati as usual (I often wake up early, work – and then devote half an hour exclusively to thinking about Bhagwati – no wonder I keep manifesting what I do on auto pilot!) – I touched the tip of my leaky penis.
Pre cum.
Lots of it. Hehe. No cum though and that’s great!
Male denial is indeed what it’s all about.
I was thinking of Bhagwati massaging my feet – which happens sometimes.
Per daba de, Bhagwati, Emperor Mike will lazily say. Hehe. Press my feet girl!
She’s supposed to do it for half an hour. Usually lasts about 5 minutes before I pull her next to me, kiss me, those wily fingers work their magic, those big black SOULFUL eyes stare at me. My!!!!!
But when it’s time for HER massage?
Those last for hours. Hehe. And the ass worship too.
So it should be. X. So nice trying not to cum doing it, but it sometimes happens at the end anyway. Her asshole is so romantic to me! Smells so lush, luscious…
One way I prolong is by talking to Madam while worshipping her. Like Carol once told me after an orgasm – talk to me!
I was about to fall asleep like most men do. Cardinal sin! Hold her, talk to her…
And I do that all the time while kissing Bhagos ass cheeks, while massaging her feet, ankles, calves …
Even when we are having sex like mad animals – hehe – I cannot stop salivating over those arms, the coal black skin forearms – the huge ponderous yet in shape boobs, that lovely waist with just a tiny hint of fat. My!
I remember the first time I looked at her soles.
Black, dirty, calloused – horribly torn…
Like a lot of Indian ladies (the poor ones) I see out there on the roads, desperately scrubbing their soles with stones.
Voice shaking, I asked Bhagwati to please allow me to…
Madam, apke per itne phate hue hai!
Itne sunder per hai, Inka khayal rakhna hai.
Bhagwati Malkin, ap to Maharani ho. Per saf kar deta hun.
(Madam, your feet are so worn, calloused! Such beautiful feet, how can one not take care of them ! You’re a Queen and you know it, let me clean them for you…)
(Not a literal translation but you get the point).
And she relaxed back lazily …
Kar de beta …
Do it, son.
Often times she calls me that even when I’m worshipping her. No, nothing to do with incest either. It’s just the age play unconsciously coming into play. So nice!
I remember the skin flaking off her feet, the dirt falling from the maids soles, never cared for, while she massaged her Madams for hours …
My,how the tables have turned now.
Life always comes full circle. I said it in Serving an Indian Goddess, I say it all the time, so did Steve Jobs and countless other luminaries.
And it’s true.
And so it should.
Bhagwati ma’am, thank you again.
Life at your feet under those soles, that ONE foot splayed out so dominantly under your sari – is what makes life worth living!
Best xo,
Mike Watson
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