I had planned my Indian trip for over a year and one of the most anticipated highlights was to be my stay on a houseboat in the calming picturesque back waters of the state of Kerala in Southern India.
I had now been in India for 2 weeks. I had traveled from Mumbai by train, a long but fascinating journey, accompanied by my young Indian interpreter and guide. I had driven all round Kerala with my Indian guide and now he took me to meet the houseboat that was to be my home for then next 8 days. I have to say I was looking forward to the tranquility of the backwaters of Kerala after a pretty hectic but wonderful past 2 weeks.
The crew of the boat were a very willing trio. They helped load my luggage and with great pride showed me round the small but very well appointed boat that was to be my home for a short while.
The main man, who I referred to as the captain was a dark, wiry, slim man I guess he would be in his mid 40’s. He was fairly tall for a south Indian, 5ft 9inches. He was dressed in an immaculate white shirt and slacks to formally welcome me to his boat. His piercing dark eyes had a twinkle in them that hinted at mischief. He was assisted by a younger man possibly late 30s. He was the chef but also acted as host and housekeeper. He was a slightly chubby man with a trimmed but thick black moustache and one of those open faces that beamed friendship. The youngest was in his early to mid 20s smiling and willing to please. He was very slender about 5ft 6 inches tall with thick dark hair and darting eyes.
The boat was made of wood, ornately carved and with woven matting to cover the glass paned windows. There was a fore deck, not large but enough for 4 comfy chairs. It was a good place to watch the waters slip by and see activity on the banks. Behind this was small dining room that led down some steps to the large double bedroom and very well appointed bathroom, no bath but a good shower. It was immaculately clean and well kept.
The captain and the Chef owned the boat privately but worked through a group who took bookings thus assuring a steady trade. They were very attentive and willing to please which was very refreshing and pleasing.
We set off that first day slowly moving out into the waters. I sat looking out as we slipped slowly through the dark calm waters, the engine humming slightly underneath. The driver in this case the captain sat at the front. The mat window shutters were open to keep the boat cool and I immediately felt relaxed sitting in the warm air enjoying the slow pace, the utter tranquillity of it all.
The men chattered around me in their local dialect. Their voices echoed across the water giving the whole experience an exotic feeling of old India. There were birds that flew up or swam away. People moved about on the far banks their muted voices carrying over the waters. It was full of colour and sound. The whole things was a truly magical and relaxing as we slipped effortlessly through the water, a white stream ran out from the front of the boat on either side racing out away from us outwards towards the shore.
Bylunch I was so relaxed calm I had dozed off. I awoke to the smell of spices,onions and garlic filling the air giving rise to hunger. I got up and wandered back to the small kitchen set at the back of the boat and peeked in. The Chef was cooking a wonderful dish with local fish, herbs and garlic from the local markets. I wandered back down the boat to the bows where I got into conversation with the captain. Once again I was amazed at how good his English was. It was also amusing to hear them talk with that very identifiable Indian accent, so appealing but rib ticklingly funny as well.
The captain spoke with great pride about his boat, his business and his family. He proudly showed me pictures of his 3 children his very humble but well kept house in his village some miles away. He talked with great sadness of his wife’s illness and subsequent death some years ago. He explained how it is common in India for family to help take care of him and his children whilst he struggled to earn a living. He was a man of the community, working with charities in his village when time permitted. Giving blood on a regular basis, something he had been driven to do since his wife’s death. I suspect there was a financial aspect to the blood giving but he was proud of his giving showing me his donor records. I liked him he was a simple hard working man with a freshness and openness.
The foodwas a revelation, served on thick green leaves it was sumptuous, with rice andcurried fish, caught fresh that morning and vegetables spicy and aromatic.There was fresh juice and if I wanted a cold beer. I asked if they were eatingwith me but they declined and said they would eat at the back of the boat wherethey had simple lodgings. I would have preferred them to eat with me as I don’tlike to eat alone but I respected their needs.
The afternoon seemed to slip by and I talked to all of them during that time. Finally we arrived at the mooring point for the night. The men got busy securing the boat and setting it up for the evening. I slipped away to have a shower and change for the evening.
The evening meal was up to the same good standard as lunch and I knew I was going to enjoy this trip very much. The men sat with me during the evening and we chatted freely once they saw I was receptive to them as friends and companions on my Indian experience. They were open and expressive if sometimes funny as their English got all mixed up but it was a good humoured fun evening. I slept very well that night despite the warmth and under a mosquito net was never bothered by insects. I awoke early as the sun streamed in through the open slats of the window matting and went out onto the front deck. The men were already active getting ready for the day.
As we continued along our peaceful journey the captain spent more time talking tome and asking how I enjoyed India.I told him it was wonderful, fascinating and exciting full of sound and colour. He told me of his life and how he had worked hard to get his boat and make a good living for his family. Indians are hard working and industrious although they do put too much store by what work they do and not about personality and interaction. He told me he had worked as a porter in hospitals and worked long shifts and hours to save money to get a boat. He had learnt the Kerala art of massage (Aryuvedic) a relaxing service that is a Kerala specialty and much talked about by visitors to Kerala. He asked if I had experienced one yet but I told him no but would hope to before I left. He asked if we had such a thing in the USA.I told him that there was all sorts of massage specialties from the far east and homeopathic massage such as reflexology available in the US. He was most interested and asked if I enjoyed them to which I replied very much so. I explained how much I enjoyed the foot massage of Reflexology and how it relaxed me and was said to have healing powers. He said that massage in India also massaged the feet and the whole body with special oils. He asked me if I would like a foot massage. I said I would love one. He asked me to wait whilst he went and got his oils. He returned with some small bottles of oil. Kneeling in front of my chair he lifted my left foot placing it on his lap. His hands were strong and firm but the fingers were magic on my foot as he kneaded it and stroked it with a rhythmic motion. His left hand supporting my heel whilst his right performed the magic. I lay back in the chair, closing my eyes.
I sighed with each pleasurable stroke, squeeze and twist of his magic fingers. The sensation of having my feet massaged has always been of great pleasure to me. It made my body feel loose and relaxed. It also is very sensuous and arousing. I felt the wetness in my vagina as he expertly worked my feet. He worked selflessly at his task his little shouts of“yaar” every time I sighed or moaned softly at the pleasure he was giving me signaled his joy at my pleasure. I was now lying well back in the chair my legs stretched out to him, my eyes closed lost in the warmth of the air, the smells of the river and his magical fingers. He began to run his hand up the back of my calve massaging my muscle, whilst his other kept up the rhythm on my foot. He massaged firmly along my calves to the back of my knees and above keeping a steady pressure and rhythm. Then putting my left foot on the floor beside him whilst still stroking my leg with one hand he dipped his other hand into the bowl of oil he had prepared. Picking up my right leg he began to work his magic on my right foot. I was not only relaxed I was filled with sensuous feelings. I now had a very damp pussy. The whole sensation just filled my body with tingling pleasures that ran right up to my throat and my nipples were hard and erect. He was now massaging my right leg along the whole length pushing my long skirt up my thighs with every stroke. I was too lost in the pleasure to want him to stop. He placed my right foot by his side and now with my legs slightly parted he began to run his hands along my legs. Up my inner thighs my skirt, now crumpled around my waist exposing my panties. He was now massaging my fully exposed thighs up along my hips and back. His thumbs brushing past my wet see thru white panties, I sighed with every stroke thrusting my hips against his stroking hands. He worked in silence, his thumbs getting tantalisingly closer and closer to the very damp gusset of my white panties.The anticipation of each stroke increased my arousal. I sighed involuntarily as he brushed the sides of my pussy with each stroke. Finally his thumbs pressed along my pussy as he stroked upwards. I could not help letting out a deep sigh. I looked down at him with hooded eyes, soft with pleasure and arousal. He was so engrossed in his work his eyes fixed on my exposed body he didn’t notice me.
I had now been in India for 2 weeks. I had traveled from Mumbai by train, a long but fascinating journey, accompanied by my young Indian interpreter and guide. I had driven all round Kerala with my Indian guide and now he took me to meet the houseboat that was to be my home for then next 8 days. I have to say I was looking forward to the tranquility of the backwaters of Kerala after a pretty hectic but wonderful past 2 weeks.
The crew of the boat were a very willing trio. They helped load my luggage and with great pride showed me round the small but very well appointed boat that was to be my home for a short while.
The main man, who I referred to as the captain was a dark, wiry, slim man I guess he would be in his mid 40’s. He was fairly tall for a south Indian, 5ft 9inches. He was dressed in an immaculate white shirt and slacks to formally welcome me to his boat. His piercing dark eyes had a twinkle in them that hinted at mischief. He was assisted by a younger man possibly late 30s. He was the chef but also acted as host and housekeeper. He was a slightly chubby man with a trimmed but thick black moustache and one of those open faces that beamed friendship. The youngest was in his early to mid 20s smiling and willing to please. He was very slender about 5ft 6 inches tall with thick dark hair and darting eyes.
The boat was made of wood, ornately carved and with woven matting to cover the glass paned windows. There was a fore deck, not large but enough for 4 comfy chairs. It was a good place to watch the waters slip by and see activity on the banks. Behind this was small dining room that led down some steps to the large double bedroom and very well appointed bathroom, no bath but a good shower. It was immaculately clean and well kept.
The captain and the Chef owned the boat privately but worked through a group who took bookings thus assuring a steady trade. They were very attentive and willing to please which was very refreshing and pleasing.
We set off that first day slowly moving out into the waters. I sat looking out as we slipped slowly through the dark calm waters, the engine humming slightly underneath. The driver in this case the captain sat at the front. The mat window shutters were open to keep the boat cool and I immediately felt relaxed sitting in the warm air enjoying the slow pace, the utter tranquillity of it all.
The men chattered around me in their local dialect. Their voices echoed across the water giving the whole experience an exotic feeling of old India. There were birds that flew up or swam away. People moved about on the far banks their muted voices carrying over the waters. It was full of colour and sound. The whole things was a truly magical and relaxing as we slipped effortlessly through the water, a white stream ran out from the front of the boat on either side racing out away from us outwards towards the shore.
Bylunch I was so relaxed calm I had dozed off. I awoke to the smell of spices,onions and garlic filling the air giving rise to hunger. I got up and wandered back to the small kitchen set at the back of the boat and peeked in. The Chef was cooking a wonderful dish with local fish, herbs and garlic from the local markets. I wandered back down the boat to the bows where I got into conversation with the captain. Once again I was amazed at how good his English was. It was also amusing to hear them talk with that very identifiable Indian accent, so appealing but rib ticklingly funny as well.
The captain spoke with great pride about his boat, his business and his family. He proudly showed me pictures of his 3 children his very humble but well kept house in his village some miles away. He talked with great sadness of his wife’s illness and subsequent death some years ago. He explained how it is common in India for family to help take care of him and his children whilst he struggled to earn a living. He was a man of the community, working with charities in his village when time permitted. Giving blood on a regular basis, something he had been driven to do since his wife’s death. I suspect there was a financial aspect to the blood giving but he was proud of his giving showing me his donor records. I liked him he was a simple hard working man with a freshness and openness.
The foodwas a revelation, served on thick green leaves it was sumptuous, with rice andcurried fish, caught fresh that morning and vegetables spicy and aromatic.There was fresh juice and if I wanted a cold beer. I asked if they were eatingwith me but they declined and said they would eat at the back of the boat wherethey had simple lodgings. I would have preferred them to eat with me as I don’tlike to eat alone but I respected their needs.
The afternoon seemed to slip by and I talked to all of them during that time. Finally we arrived at the mooring point for the night. The men got busy securing the boat and setting it up for the evening. I slipped away to have a shower and change for the evening.
The evening meal was up to the same good standard as lunch and I knew I was going to enjoy this trip very much. The men sat with me during the evening and we chatted freely once they saw I was receptive to them as friends and companions on my Indian experience. They were open and expressive if sometimes funny as their English got all mixed up but it was a good humoured fun evening. I slept very well that night despite the warmth and under a mosquito net was never bothered by insects. I awoke early as the sun streamed in through the open slats of the window matting and went out onto the front deck. The men were already active getting ready for the day.
As we continued along our peaceful journey the captain spent more time talking tome and asking how I enjoyed India.I told him it was wonderful, fascinating and exciting full of sound and colour. He told me of his life and how he had worked hard to get his boat and make a good living for his family. Indians are hard working and industrious although they do put too much store by what work they do and not about personality and interaction. He told me he had worked as a porter in hospitals and worked long shifts and hours to save money to get a boat. He had learnt the Kerala art of massage (Aryuvedic) a relaxing service that is a Kerala specialty and much talked about by visitors to Kerala. He asked if I had experienced one yet but I told him no but would hope to before I left. He asked if we had such a thing in the USA.I told him that there was all sorts of massage specialties from the far east and homeopathic massage such as reflexology available in the US. He was most interested and asked if I enjoyed them to which I replied very much so. I explained how much I enjoyed the foot massage of Reflexology and how it relaxed me and was said to have healing powers. He said that massage in India also massaged the feet and the whole body with special oils. He asked me if I would like a foot massage. I said I would love one. He asked me to wait whilst he went and got his oils. He returned with some small bottles of oil. Kneeling in front of my chair he lifted my left foot placing it on his lap. His hands were strong and firm but the fingers were magic on my foot as he kneaded it and stroked it with a rhythmic motion. His left hand supporting my heel whilst his right performed the magic. I lay back in the chair, closing my eyes.
I sighed with each pleasurable stroke, squeeze and twist of his magic fingers. The sensation of having my feet massaged has always been of great pleasure to me. It made my body feel loose and relaxed. It also is very sensuous and arousing. I felt the wetness in my vagina as he expertly worked my feet. He worked selflessly at his task his little shouts of“yaar” every time I sighed or moaned softly at the pleasure he was giving me signaled his joy at my pleasure. I was now lying well back in the chair my legs stretched out to him, my eyes closed lost in the warmth of the air, the smells of the river and his magical fingers. He began to run his hand up the back of my calve massaging my muscle, whilst his other kept up the rhythm on my foot. He massaged firmly along my calves to the back of my knees and above keeping a steady pressure and rhythm. Then putting my left foot on the floor beside him whilst still stroking my leg with one hand he dipped his other hand into the bowl of oil he had prepared. Picking up my right leg he began to work his magic on my right foot. I was not only relaxed I was filled with sensuous feelings. I now had a very damp pussy. The whole sensation just filled my body with tingling pleasures that ran right up to my throat and my nipples were hard and erect. He was now massaging my right leg along the whole length pushing my long skirt up my thighs with every stroke. I was too lost in the pleasure to want him to stop. He placed my right foot by his side and now with my legs slightly parted he began to run his hands along my legs. Up my inner thighs my skirt, now crumpled around my waist exposing my panties. He was now massaging my fully exposed thighs up along my hips and back. His thumbs brushing past my wet see thru white panties, I sighed with every stroke thrusting my hips against his stroking hands. He worked in silence, his thumbs getting tantalisingly closer and closer to the very damp gusset of my white panties.The anticipation of each stroke increased my arousal. I sighed involuntarily as he brushed the sides of my pussy with each stroke. Finally his thumbs pressed along my pussy as he stroked upwards. I could not help letting out a deep sigh. I looked down at him with hooded eyes, soft with pleasure and arousal. He was so engrossed in his work his eyes fixed on my exposed body he didn’t notice me.