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Lighting a Pataka for Diwali

And all through the house, not a creature was stirring... especially not that bloody mouse. I'd got the little bugger just that morning with the frying pan. No longer would I have to endure his little squeaks of triumph as he barrelled across the floor, up onto the table and made off with a leg of lamb or a couple of kilos of cheese. He was now mouse pancake. My retarded Sulphur Crested Parrot, SunnyLeone had looked on as the mouse had zigged when he should have zagged. The bird rocked merrily on his perch and let loose with his customary litany of death threats before lapsing into demented mutterings about nothing. I would have got rid of SunnyLeone a long time ago but I had heard that Cockatoos tasted like shit. Maybe with a bit of cranberry jelly on New Years day.

Actually in the interests of accuracy it was really the early hours of Diwali 2015. As usual I had found it impossible to sleep and was feeling pretty sorry for myself. It was my first Diwali on my own and also the first in my new flat. There I was... lying on the couch with the murder of the mouse a nearly forgotten memory. To create a bit of atmosphere I had piled lamps in my table even though it was about 26 degrees Celsius and I was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Beside the "Diwali Lamp", a short, stubby, rubber plant in a cheap plastic box. I had draped a bit of tinsel over it and had briefly contemplated stringing some lights on it but decided against it, as it would surely sound the death knell for this long suffering and noble old lamp. Under the tree sat my Diwali presents to me, wrapped in the shiniest of Diwali paper. A carton of cigarettes and a DVD of the IPL Mumbai Indians Cheerleaders XXX in action.

As was my recently established Diwali tradition I had settled in to indulge my Diwali fantasy. Closing my eyes, I was transported to the Mumbai Indians cheerleader locker rooms. As I gazed in wonder, hats, boots and vests flew everywhere as these luscious creatures disrobed just for me. Naked breasts bobbed and bounced all around me. Long toned limbs flashed in the soft light of my fantasy world and soft drawls purred endearments in my ears as I started to stroke my cock.

"Honey, you are the best baby!"

"Yuvi, you are too much man for me!"

"Be gentle stud, it's nearly my first time this week."

"Oh God Sachin! Where have you been all my afternoon?"

A hand full of moisturiser was aiding me on my way to ultimate fulfilment when I was rudely interrupted.

"Ohhhhhh SHIIIIIIIIIIT! This is going to hurrrrt!" The yell came from outside and was immediately followed by a huge crash. The house shook under the impact of something huge on the roof. When the soot from the window settled I heard a scrabbling sound followed by muffled curses. Then nothing. Total silence. Not a creature was stirring, not even Mr. Happy who had relaxed back to his normal flaccid state.

The noises started again. This time a slithering, sliding, sound came from the direction of my window. This was enough to have me sitting bolt upright, my cock back in my pants, in the time it took to say, "Jesuschristallbloodymightywhatthefuckwasthat!" I was about to find out.

With a loud thump a large sack landed on my carefully stacked but now sooty pile of logs. As I stared at it in wonder it was followed slowly by a pair of black stiletto heeled pumps with 4 inch heels, at the end of a pair of slim long lovely legs. The hem of a red mini dress stopped about 6 inches from what I assumed was the Promised Land.

"Oh God... now I'm stuck! Don't just sit there gawking... help me you wanker!" The voice was decidedly female and sounded very pissed off while still managing to sound sexy. It was also Desi.

Scrambling from the couch I examined the problem from a closer range which was definitely no hardship. Those legs were absolutely outstanding. I was now very keen to see the rest of the critter that was jammed in my window. Leaning into the hearth I wrapped my arms around the slender legs and started to pull. My efforts were having the desired result when a fresh wave of cursing made me stop and look up. My visitor wore black lace underwear of amazing quality and sheerness. From what I could see my visitor was most definitely a she... a she who visited a waxing salon with regularity. Her skirt had caught and was now rucked up around a very shapely pair of hips I stood and ogled... I couldn't help it. This made the Mumbai Indians cheerleaders look like a pack of muppets.

Next moment I was picking myself up off the floor. Her kick was delivered with the force of a pissed off mule and had hit me just North of the family jewels. The kick had also done a bit to dislodge my mysterious visitor from her perch. She was now half crouched in the fireplace stuck from the chest up. I could see that the skirt was actually part of a red mini dress held at the waist by a wide patent leather belt with a large silver buckle. It also seemed to be trimmed in what looked like white fur. I could only see the tail end of it so I couldn't be sure. The voice now changed to a soft pleading tone.

"Beta? Can you please help me out here? I'm sorry I kicked you... I'm having a bad night here and I'm very new to all this. Brand new actually. Help me out of this mess and I'll let you buy me a coffee and tell you all about it. How 'bout it?"

"Any more kicking and I'll feed you to SunnyLeone. He's a trained killer." I told her in a light voice followed with a laugh. "Hold tight and I'll have you out in a second."

I was true to my word and in a couple of seconds she was sitting in my hearth... once again cursing me with all her considerable vocabulary.

"Shit! Now I've got splinters in my ass!" The log pile, on reflection, wasn't the best landing place I could have put her on. Gingerly she stood and twisted, trying to get a good look at her wounded area. No luck... it was obviously out of range so being the gentleman I am I offered my assistance.

"Let me have a shot at it. Maybe I can pluck the little devil outa there for you?"

"Back off big, bad, and gruesome! I've heard all about you Jats. Perverts the lot of you. Ouch!" She carried on twisting and turning trying to get at the offending sliver parked squarely in the tender flesh of her posterior. This afforded me a great view of her previously hidden attributes.

The scooped neckline of her dress was indeed trimmed with white fur which served to highlight what was an impressive set of breasts. A C cup at least. Her waist was narrow, hips slim and beautiful, legs long and her face... aah her face. Gorgeous was the word that sprang immediately to mind. Large green eyes, fine features and a mouth that was practically screaming "Kiss me!" All this framed by a lustrous mane of dark black hair. I was doing my best stunned mullet impression; mouth opening and closing, when I noticed something. Something miraculous.

She was spotless. Not a hair was out of place and she had nary a trace of soot on her person. It was as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon. Something wasn't quite right here. She gave up the fight and turned to me.

"Alright Sachin, you got your shot, but let me warn you that one wrong move will find you needing the services of a good urologist first thing Diwali morning. Comprende?"

"Gotcha. By the way... who are you? Are you always this friendly or is it something to do with the bad night you're having? And how did you know my name? And why did you come through my window? And finally... what the fuck happened on my roof? I just moved in here and haven't paid my security bond yet. If there is any damage up there I am right in the shit... neck deep!" With the benefit of hindsight I can say now that it should have been glaringly obvious, but then no one has ever accused me of being the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

Rolling her eyes, this vision threw a glance heavenward and turned her back to me, bending at the waist as she did. She had a world class ass. What the boys down at the pub called a pornstar ass. And I was about to get my grubby little mitts on it. Thank god for splintery wood.

The black lace panties were actually an amalgamation of lace and satin. Not quite a g-string, not quite full briefs, the band at the rear of her panties neatly bisected her spectacular ass cheeks. There, rudely protruding from the soft white skin of her left cheek was the demon splinter. Bent over as she was, hands on knees, feet slightly spread, and looking back at me warily over her shoulder, she was the epitome of my wettest of wet dreams. My cock reached full hardness in mere nano seconds. I could have pounded nails with it, it was that hard. My flimsy rugby shorts struggled to disguise the effect she was having on me and finally they gave up the fight. The head of my cock popped up over my waistband. I blushed and bent to the task at hand. To cover my embarrassment, I spoke.

"So are you going to answer my questions?"

"Okay studly. First off, you can call me Pataka Clause for want of something better. I'm sorry I'm being bitchy but I'll explain it all over a nice cup of cappuccino. Finally... think about it. It is the wee small hours of Diwali morning. There is a crash on your roof and someone slides down your window dressed in red and black. Can you put it together or do you want to borrow my slide rule. Aah shit sorry for that. I guess I am bitchy. Do your stuff with my butt, make a coffee and we can start fresh okay?"

So she is like Santa Claus but for Diwali? And she was a porn star? My parents had bullshitted me. Bastards! I bent to the task at hand.

Her skin was soft and perfumed, the muscles underneath firm and flexible. It was a butt I could fall in love with. In moments I had the offending timber removed from her lovely bottom. Before she stood up I leaned forward and gave her a swift soft kiss on the ass.

"That one is free, but if you try it again without being invited you'll need a proctologist to remove my shoe from your ass.
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