All or Nothing

Big Tits

At two o’clock in the afternoon, I boarded the Tirupati Express from Chennai Central station to Tirupati for the 90 mile journey that I fully expected to take almost four hours. Indian trains are not renowned for their speed but at least I had a First Class, Air-Conditioned ticket and the compartment was relatively empty. I settled back with a book and prepared for departure. I had just completed a hectic week of business meetings all across India, finishing in Chennai. I decided to take a few days off before returning to the UK and it made sense to seek out the slightly cooler climate in the hills around Tirupati. I gazed across the platform at the mass of humanity that was still scrabbling to jump on board before we set off and found myself giving silent thanks for the relative tranquillity of the First Class compartment. However, as often happens in these situations, I had given thanks too soon. There was a flurry of activity, the train door was flung open and a flustered female voice shouted in English, “Is this train going to Tirumala?”

“Yes,” I replied, “or as close as you can get by train.”

“Come along Julia, this is the right train,” she yelled. I watched as a porter loaded several bags into the carriage. I stood up to offer my assistance just as the whistle trilled and the train began to shudder into motion. With a final surge, the two women jumped on board and slumped exhaustedly down on the two seats across the table from me. I put their suitcases onto the luggage rack and resumed my seat. “Good afternoon ladies,” I said. “Shall I call the steward to fetch you a drink?”

“That’s very kind, a couple of gin and tonics would be nice,” replied the first woman.

“I’m not sure if they run to that but I’ll see what I can do.” I wandered off in the direction of the restaurant car. When I returned, I explained that they were on their way.

“That is so kind of you,” she replied. “But you must think us very rude. We haven’t even introduced ourselves or thanked you for your help. I’m Angel and this is my friend Julia. We are from the USA.” She offered a hand which I embraced gently and said, “Not at all, my name is Robert and I am delighted to meet you.”

The woman giggled and exclaimed to her friend, “Julia, he’s British. Just get that accent.”

I turned to Julia and offered my hand. She took it and fluttered her eyelids, “So lovely to meet you,” she whispered breathlessly.

Angel, or Angela to be more formal, explained that they were on the last leg of a tour around India and heading to Goa for a week on the beach. However, their travel agent had persuaded them to go via Tirumala so that they could see the Venkateswara Temple. “Did you know, it’s the site of the biggest religious pilgrimage in the world?” she asked. “It gets more visitors every year than the Vatican or Mecca.”

I replied politely that I was vaguely aware of that fact and that I had indeed been a couple of times before.

“You’ve been there before?” Angel was incredulous. “Tell us about it.”

The drinks arrived and I settled back to my task.

“The whole region is a very important for the Hindu religion. There are hundreds of temples and monuments all around the area but the main temple at Tirumala is one of the most beautiful in India. It is over a thousand years old and is dedicated to the Lord Vishnu, one of the three main Hindu gods, who is believed to have appeared in the Tirumala Hills in the human incarnation of Sri Venkateswara or Lord Balaji. His image is now worshiped in the temple. It wears a diamond crown that is reputed to be the most valuable religious relic in the world. As you know, it is visited by forty million pilgrims a year and is one of the richest temples in India.”

“Wow. You really know your stuff. I can’t wait to see it.” Angel said earnestly. I glanced at Julia who was gazing intently at me.

“It gets very busy. If you are hoping to do darshan or enter the temple to contemplate the image of the Balaji, I recommend you book a timed slot. It only costs about 300 rupees but it could save you hours of queuing. You can do it on-line.”

“Well we sure want to get the authentic experience, don’t we Julia. Can you help us get tickets?” Angel said.

“Yes, of course, I would be delighted to help. It is not that simple though. If you are going into the temple you will need to obey the dress code. Do you have any traditional Indian dress?

“Of course we do honey, Julia and me have been shopping for America everywhere we have been. We’ve got everything.”

“OK. Now I’m guessing that you are not Hindus, so you will have to arrange to sign a declaration that says you believe in the Hindu gods. We will need to go either to the Vaikuntam Queue Centre in Tirumala or one of the TTD administration offices in Tirupati to get that done. You should also do the darshan or pilgrimage in the right order. That requires you to walk from Tirupati up to Tirumala. It’s about three thousand steps on Beylikdüzü Escort an 11km pathway which has lots of temples, gopurams and other monuments on the way up. You should then bathe at the Swami Pushkarini and afterwards visit the Sri Varahaswami temple which is next to the pushkarini. It is the oldest temple in Tirumala and plays an important part in the legend. Then you go to the Venkateswara Temple to receive the blessing of Balaji and finally you need to return to Tirupati to have darshan at the temple of Padmavathi Ammavari, the wife of Lord Venkateswara.”

At that moment, the train stopped at Trivellore, the first stop on the line. No-one entered our carriage but I did buy a bottle of cold mint lassi and some samosas from a platform vendor which I shared with my travelling companions.

Angel and Julia were deep in conversation. “We should definitely do it,” said Angel. “It sounds so different from the usual tourist crap,”

“I agree,” replied Julia. “It’s sort of spiritual. I love that stuff.” She turned to me and said, “Can you help us do that Rob. You seem to know all about it.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Will you be doing mottai and mundai too?”

“Hell, yes. We sure will.” said Angel enthusiastically “We want the full experience.” She paused for a moment looking puzzled and then said, “Just what is mottai and mundai?”

“Hair tonsuring and donation,” I replied. “Before you take the holy bath, you get all your hair shaved off so that it can be donated to the deity. If you wish to do it, it has to be done before you bathe.”

There was a long silence before Angel shrieked, “you’re kidding me, right? Who would do a thing like that?” She looked incredulous, expecting me to break into a laugh. I stared back implacably, until it dawned on her that I was being serious.

“Oh my god!” she mouthed silently.

“It’s true,” I said. “Legend has it that the Lord Venkateswara was involved in a fight with a cow herd during which he was hit on the head and lost a clump of his hair. His devotee, the goddess Neela Devi, saw it and plucked some hair from her own head which she planted on his head where it grew and his beauty was restored. Thereafter, the Lord Venkateswara promised that from then on, his devotees would shave their hair and donate it to Neela Devi. It is meant to represent the sacrifice of material beauty and the giving up false ego.”

Angel looked horrified and stroked her shoulder length strawberry blond hair. Julia looked intrigued and said, “So what happens?”

“Well,” I replied, “there are many places in Tirumala and Tirupathi offering head shaving services but for real authenticity, pilgrims visit the Kelyanakatta near the main temple. Its probably the biggest barbershop in the world with over six hundred full time barbers working around the clock. They shave over twenty thousand men, women and children every day, all for free. They generate tons of hair.”

“That’s unbelievable. I wonder what happens to all that hair?” Angel said, looking abstractedly into the distance and shaking her head in amazement.

“That’s easy,” I replied. “They sell it. Long, good quality hair is auctioned off and finds its way into the global wig and hair extension market. The damaged or short hair goes for chemical processing into amino acids. The TTD, the temple authority, makes twenty five million dollars a year from hair sales.”

Angel snapped out of her trance and laughed loudly. “Hey, Julia. You should donate your bush. You could make three wigs out of that.”

Julia looked embarrassed and stared malevolently at her friend. There was an awkward silence before I said, “I don’t think that’s allowed. It’s head hair only.”

“Well that’s a shame,” said Angel, still giggling. “Anyway that’s not going to happen. We ain’t going bald for no deity, are we Julia?” Julia stared silently out of the window and the train came to a halt at the next stop and which was Arakkonam. As we pulled away, I took the advantage of a lull in the conversation to study the two women.

They both appeared to be in their early forties. Angel was the shorter of the two: slightly overweight, with large breasts and a curvaceous backside. She was clearly an extrovert with a loud, raucous laugh and sensuous, smiling eyes. She was by no means a classic beauty but she had a strong sexual appeal. I’m sure she could be fun. Julia was more refined. Her long auburn hair was arranged in a loose pile on top of her head. Closer examination revealed a few signs of grey in her hair. She had small pert breasts and a slimmer bottom with long tanned legs. Her chiselled face and her deep grey eyes gave her a look of calm sophistication. She was not prone to fits of giggles like her friend but when she smiled, her face radiated a classic beauty. She noticed me staring at her and tilted her head to one side with the hint of a smile, as if she could read my mind. I hoped she couldn’t because at that Avcılar escort moment I was thinking about burying my face in what was, according to Angel, a very substantial pubic bush.

Angel broke the silence by asking what I was doing in India. I explained that I came several times a year on business, and occasionally took time out to visit places of interest like Tirumala. I did not explain that I went there as often as I could, mainly to indulge my fetish for watching women getting their heads shaved. It is a minor quirk but experience has taught me that people do not generally understand it. My ex-wife cited it in our divorce as evidence of my perverted behaviour even though I had never once asked her to shave her head; convicted by my search engine history, unfortunately.

Angel gave me their story. They had both met at college in California and had remained friends through careers, marriages, children and divorce. This trip had been organised by Julia to celebrate Angel’s recent second divorce. Angel said she would have preferred an adult resort in the Caribbean, where there was more gratuitous sex on offer but they had seen some cool stuff in India and they still got on well together, if I knew what she meant. She winked suggestively, and I found myself imagining them both entwined in a naked embrace. Julie said nothing and my train of thought was interrupted by our arrival at Tiruttani. We were over half way and the Seshachalam range of hills on which Tirumala stood was now becoming more visible in the West.

The journey continued uneventfully. I explained to them that the food was likely to be mostly vegetarian in most places in Tirupati and there wasn’t much alcohol available. They were amazed to hear that all pilgrims could have free food in the temple complex at Tirumala although it was be very plain. However, they were staying in one of the few five star hotels in Tirupati where there was an excellent international restaurant, a spa and a cocktail bar. Julia asked me where I was staying. I replied that, because it was a spur of the moment trip, I had not booked anywhere but I was sure that I would find a room in one of the many guest houses. It was the end of October and monsoon season. There were sure to be spare rooms or I could just sleep on a mat in the Madhava Nilyaman, a sort of communal lodging hall which also did head shaving.

Julia looked at Angel knowingly and said, “We have got a suite, you could stay with us. There is plenty of room.”

I did not hesitate long and by the time we stopped at Renigunta Junction, it was all arranged. In return for my tour guide services, I would spend the next four nights with them in the Marasar Sarova hotel, which was over a hundred dollars a night for a suite.

We arrived in Tirupati station early in the evening and were greeted by the organised chaos that seems to be ever present in Indian transport hubs. Porters vied with each other to take our bags and ‘tuktuk’ drivers tried to outmanoeuvre taxi drivers to get our attention. The constant cacophony of car horns played the familiar Indian backing track and everywhere was a riot of colour as the seething hordes of people went about their everyday business. We took a taxi to the hotel which was on the outskirts of town and afforded a good view of the seven hills of Tirumala and the rock formations beyond. The hotel was an oasis of calm and we were soon settled in our room and unpacking. It was agreed that Angel and Julia would take the master bedroom which had two king sized beds while I had the smaller room. The two girls told me that they were heading for the spa so I agreed to meet them in the bar later. It wasn’t how I usually spent my first night in Tirupati. I would normally take a bus up to the temple complex in Tirumala to watch some head-shaving, but that would have to be wait.

Angel and Julia made a grand entrance to the bar a couple of hours later. They looked sensational. Angel was in a figure-hugging, short sleeveless cocktail dress that barely contained her tits and made her well-rounded buttocks take on a life of their own. It was so tight that there was little doubt that she was wearing no underwear. Her hair had been French plaited down the middle of her head which made her face look slimmer. Julia wore a stylish trouser suit with a silk blouse under a waistcoat jacket. The blouse was open enough at the front to show her cleavage and her hair was hanging loosely down her back to well below her bra strap.

I greeted them both warmly and recommended that we drink some Indian wine, which is sensational but rarely sampled led outside of the country. They both said that they needed a cocktail first. I asked Angel how the spa was. She replied that it was fantastic. She had got a facial and a full Brazilian waxing.

“It was great to get rid of all that minge, I can tell you,” she said. “I tried to get them to do Julia but the wax tanker is not due until next week,” She burst Esenyurt escort into a raucous laugh.

Julia blushed, but Angel continued loudly, “Rob, be honest, how do you prefer your pussy? Shaved or hairy?”

“Well, to be totally honest,” I replied, “I’m completely binary. For me it’s all or nothing.”

Angel roared in delight, “Well it looks like you met the right girls then.” She swilled her drink down quickly and ordered another.

I continued, “Vatsyayana said that you should trim your whiskers and nails every fourth day and remove all your body hair every five or ten days.” I explained, “but he was talking about men.”

“Sounds like a cool guy,” said Angel.

“He was,” I said. “He wrote the Kama Sutra.”

“What?” Angel exclaimed, “that sex book.”

“It’s actually a manual for well-being,” I corrected her. “He may have been the first real feminist. He insisted that men should always put a woman’s sexual pleasure first.”

“Yeah. Too true. So what’s your favourite position?” Angel leaned forward a fluttered her eyelashes. I thought for a moment and said, “Seventy.”

“Seventy?’ she repeated. “What’s that?”

“Sixty nine plus one.” I replied and she laughed out loud. Julia allowed a smile to break across her face.

During dinner I explained that I had booked a timed special entry slot for their darshan for 2pm Friday, the day after tomorrow. I suggested that we take a taxi up to Tirumala tomorrow to have a look around the complex and complete the formalities but that we walk up the temple pathway early on Friday. We would have plenty of time before our slot. After dinner, we had a few more drinks in the bar and I noticed that Angel, who was a little drunk, was stroking the inside of Julia’s thigh. She lent across and whispered loudly that she was feeling very horny. Julia stroked her face and said, “Me too honey, but we can’t leave Rob here on his own after all he has done for us.”

I was as more than a little surprised when Angel replied, “We should ask him to join us. He could show us how to do a ‘seventy’.” There was a long pause, as Julia weighed up the proposal before she shrugged and said, “That sounds good to me.” I drained my glass and stood up eagerly.

Back in the room, Angel threw off the cocktail dress to reveal that she was indeed naked underneath. She placed her arms around Julia’s neck and said, “Let’s get you undressed so that you can feel how smooth my cunt is now.”

“We should let our guest have the first lick,” replied Julia as she stood aside and beckoned me over. I dropped to my knees and fondled Angel’s pendulous breasts, gently tweaking her hard nipples. In front of me was her bald, perfumed cunt. I gently inserted my tongue and licked the nectar that was leaking out of her puffy lips. Sensing that I would need to unfold these flaps to gain full access, I dropped one hand and inserted a finger into her slit at the same time as using my tongue to open her outer lips revealing a large and swollen clitoris. Angel was groaning loudly and soon got very wet. I was about to suck her clitoris into my mouth when Julia stood next to me and began to kiss Angel’s lips and fondle her breasts. I turned sideways to see her magnificent bush. It was a mane of reddish hair that covered her whole vulva and mons pubis from the top her thighs to just below her navel. I was powerless to resist and buried my face in it, inhaling deeply. The smell was glorious and my saliva quickly mingled with her flowing juices. Angel gave a whimper of disappointment and I realised it was time to move to the bedroom. Angel lay down and Julia soon climbed on top in the classic ’69’ position. She resumed the service on Angels cunt with her tongue, while I used my fingers to part a way through her bush so that my cock could gain access to her fleshy cunt. I listened intently to the wet slurping sounds coming from the other end of the bed intermingled with Angel’s increasingly ecstatic and noisy moans. She was definitely a ‘screamer’ and seemed to be close to coming. I increased my pace and was treated to a loud squelching from Julia’s cunt as I slapped into her arse cheeks. Angel’s tongue was probing my balls from underneath and I leaned forwards to grab a nipple. Suddenly there was a low groan from Julia and she shuddered to a climax and slumped onto Angel’s breasts. I sensed Angel’s disappointment and withdrew from Julia to move around the bed. I pushed my cock into Angel’s cunt and fucked her hard to her rhythmic exhortations of, “yes, yes, yes!” She was quickly shuddering and screaming out loud as the orgasm passed through her, and she fell back with her eyes closed and a satisfied smile on her face. I left them both on the bed and went to the balcony of my room for a cigarette. I turned to go in and saw that Julia had joined me. She was standing in the doorway observing me silently.

“Do you mind if I join you,” she asked, “Angel is snoring.” I put my arm around her and gently moved her towards the bed. We laid back and she placed her hand on my cock. “You didn’t come,” she said.

” Vatsyayana said a man should always ensure that the woman is pleasured first,” I replied.

“He also said that you should remove all you body hair,” she said while tugging on my pubes.

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