My Swami's Birthday - part II

Finally, his hands touch my upper arms and I know it is time to rise. I rise and keep my head bowed in respect and wait for his next move. Will he undo my blouse? Will his hand raise my petticoat and assault me vaginally? Will he push me on to his desk and mount me from behind? I shiver slightly as I think of all the ways he can quench the raging hard-on in his pants.

"Go get dressed, we are getting late for the temple" He says softly. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

"As you wish, My Swami", I whisper, my voice shaking. As I quickly exit the study, I see him turning back to his desk, with his cock still straining against his pants. I feel so guilty.

We are at the temple with our daughter shortly. I am dressed quite conservatively, making sure not to flaunt skin or appear overtly sexual. I stand to my Swami's left demurely and quietly, holding our daughter in my arms.

The priest asks us for our lineage or clan name. We are Brahmins. According to our scriptures, all the Brahmins alive today trace their ancestry to one of the seven sages from thousands of years ago. I watch my Swami as he announces his lineage. The priest's eyes light up. He belongs to the same ancestral tree. While technically all the seven sages are considered equals, this sage's clan that he and my husband belong to is widely considered first among equals. Hindus believe that at different times during our history, God has come into this world in human form to rid the world of evil and protect the righteous. One of the incarnations of the Lord, is believed to have been born into this clan. 

One of the reasons, my Dad was so happy when my marriage took place with my Swami was because my Swami belonged to this exclusive clan. He had tears of joy during our wedding, when the priest announced that I was now considered to be part of my husband's clan and all my descendants would now carry that name. He felt he had hit the jackpot in terms of family names.

My Swami is a little embarrassed by all this. His ancestors are mentioned in practically every Hindu religious text and he has read them critically. For an atheist, he is very knowledgeable about religion! He probably knows more about the history of Hinduism than the priest standing in front of us. All that reading convinced him that these so called luminaries were just misogynistic hard drinking womanizers, who used their position to accumulate wealth and power. 

He rolls his eyes when somebody gushes over his family heritage, wondering if they have read the religious texts carefully. I am just happy to be his Daasi. These issues are too intellectual for me. I try not to think about them too much.

I can sense that the priest also likes what he sees in me. He beckons to his wife and she insists on taking care of our daughter when we are going thru the rituals. I have never seen him do that with other families. He comments that I am dressed like one of the Hindu God's consorts. My Swami suppresses a grin. He looks at me and his eyes seem to be asking, "Should I tell him, what a cock sucking, sexual slut you are?"

I look down in embarrassment, my face flushed. We dutifully complete all the rituals and receive the "Prasad", the palm-sized gracious gift of food from the priest. The priest looks on approvingly when I feed my Swami the "Prasad" with my own hands and then bow down and touch his feet and then my Swami's.

He comments "It is nice to see that you have preserved our traditions in this new land, and have come to the temple dressed so appropriately. Otherwise, today's young girls, they come in jeans and shirt, with their hair loose and untied and with no "Bindi" (the red dot on my forehead). I smile politely, but my Swami is about to burst out laughing so we quickly exit the inner sanctorum of the temple and move out.

Once we are outside the temple, my Swami collapses on the bench outside and starts laughing uncontrollably. "What is it about your face and looks that has all these folks fooled?" he asks. I just stand there with my head bowed, my eyes staring at my feet, totally embarrassed.

We thank the priest's wife for babysitting our daughter, who after all that activity in the temple is tired and refuses to eat the "Prasad" I keep trying to feed her. Instead as soon as my Swami puts her in her car seat, she falls asleep. The priest comes out and watches us drive away and waves, another thing I have never seen him do with other worshipers.

"You are fasting today aren't you?" asks my Swami. "Yes, Swami, I say softly". He grips the steering wheel harder. I know what he is thinking, so I add quickly. "But Swami, I can always eat "Prasad", as it is considered a gracious gift of food from God". So saying, I put a little of the temple "Prasad" in my mouth, then add "Anything, you give me is Prasad for me Swami, since you are my earthly God".

He stares at me for a second and then all of a sudden his right hand reaches out and grabs my hair. With a swift jerk he lowers my face to his crotch and presses my face into his pants. I quickly turn to look and see our daughter is sleeping peacefully.

I undo his fly and reach in and pull  the elastic of his underwear down under his balls. I then pull his cock out and it is already hard. I smell it. As always it smells exquisite. I lower my lips onto it. He shivers a little bit with pleasure and I stop momentarily. "Swami, is this safe?" I don't want to cause an accident.

"Shut up and do your job and let me take care of the driving" he hisses.  I put my lips back on his cock and start sucking. I try to keep it quiet, because I don't want my daughter waking up to somebody slurping and gagging.  His right arm is pulling my hair hard and is pushing my head down trying to impale me on his cock. He is driving with one hand on the steering and with every suck and mini thrust of his pelvis, the car bobs a little bit. 

Finally he realizes that it is not just his life that could get affected if we have an accident so does the wise thing and pulls to the side of the road. Within seconds he grunts as his orgasm hits and now uses both his hands to press my head with all his strength into his groin. I clamp hard with my lips on his cock not wanting his cum to escape my mouth and create a mess. All the sexual frustration from the morning  has taken its toll and he seems to come forever. He struggles to keep himself quiet amidst a violent orgasm. I finally feel him relax and slowly withdraw my lips carefully making sure that all the cum stays in my mouth. With a popping sound his dick exits my mouth.

Usually I open my mouth wide and show him his gift and wait for his permission to swallow, but we are at the side of a busy street so I quickly glance at him and when he nods I just gulp it down. Then I bend down and use my tongue to clean his cock tip and gently reinsert it back into his pants and zip his fly back.

"You suck cock like a God's consort all right" He says and laughs. "I am just your Daasi, Swami, please don't elevate me to anything beyond that" I say and gently kiss his right hand. He taps me lovingly on my cheeks and we start moving again.....

To be continued......