Untouchable

Hola, my name is Gustavo, and I'm Puerto Rican. I live in New York City, albeit in a nicer part of town than before, and I am a successful executive for a major airline. I have a fat salary, expense accounts, etc., and I love to travel, taking advantage of the staff discount. However, I never forget the downtrodden, the poor, and the unjustly despised. I grew up poor, after all, and I know suffering. So, perhaps for that reason, I find myself especially attracted to the girls from the "wrong side of the tracks".

Yes, women living in poverty, who look for a man who will actually like them, want them, lust for them, and maybe even love them- those women appeal to me. Of course, I sleep with the corporate types too, but those women are often arrogant, stuffy prima donnas, who don't appreciate men, because they don't think that they need us.

I also love and remember the earthy sensuality of the girls from my old neighborhood, with their swarthy, sweaty skin that made them seem soft and natural. I am really attracted to that, for sure, and rarely find it in my jet-set lifestyle.

Well, all of that is preliminary to the story that I am about to tell. My wife and I have not really had a marriage of the happy, romantic, and sexually satisfied type for a long time, and I often look forward to my trips abroad, mostly due to the sexual solace I find with the legal prostitutes of many foreign countries. I also, however, look for girls who are just in need of a man's touch, and who feel, wrongly, that they are unacceptable for some reason.

That was literally true in New Delhi, the capital of India, one day, when I happened to find a young, sweet-looking girl serving tables for the foreigners (who to the locals just didn't "know better", and were therefore not held to caste rules). She had that dark, earthy quality, and was quite delightful in her exotic beauty, and yet she seemed downcast, and frankly unhappy. 

I thought that I would break the ice, "Miss, what's your name?".

I knew that English is a fairly common language in India, to bridge the many native peoples with their various tongues, so I naturally expected her to understand me. 

"Devi, sir.", she nervously answered. 

"You don't need to call me 'sir', Devi. My name is Gustavo.", I told her.

"Thank you, Gustavo, but I am new here, and I'm not used to people speaking to me like that."

"Like what- like a person?", I replied.

"Yes- like a person. To them, I am just a beast, no better than any of those donkeys, and less than a cow, which is sacred."

I was angry now, as I couldn't understand. Hadn't the government abolished castes a long time ago- why did people break the law by discriminating on the basis of caste? I decided to inquire further.

"Devi, are you treated that way because of your caste?"

"No, Gustavo, I am treated this way because I have no caste- I am an 'untouchable', and they say that it is because I was bad in a past life- you know, really evil?"

I was horrified now. It's one thing to believe in karma, but to hold an imaginary karma against an innocent- that was awful! Here was a lovely young woman, who never deserved this kind of degradation, and she was subjected to it, solely because of her birth!

"Devi- look at me; you are not 'untouchable', or 'bad', or 'evil', for that matter, just unlucky enough to have been born into poverty, okay? I think of you as a person, and I want you to think of yourself the same way, alright?" 

She nodded, albeit nervously, as she was afraid of her parents, who worked there, too, and the owners of the place.

"Come with me, when your shift is done, and I will show you that you do have something to offer, and that some people do consider you a person."

She nodded again, agreeing to my plan, as I paid her and put the tip down on the table, and then headed to the bar of the restaurant, to drink a few before heading to my hotel suite that was in walking distance to the tavern. When her shift was over, I took her arm and led her to my car, to the shock of her parents and employers, who were nonetheless not about to thwart an affluent patron.

I took her to my suite, after checking in (and facing some looks from the hotel staff, who were clearly uncomfortable with an outcaste among them), and then I ran a bath, telling her to join me in it. She had never been invited to do that before, so my invitation was irresistible for her. 

I began to massage her swarthy flesh, getting it clean and wet, as her evident tension gradually disappeared, and she clearly felt comfortable and at ease with me. She knew by now, of course, that I wanted to fuck her, but she obviously didn't mind, because I had made it apparent that she was a human as far as I was concerned, not just some beast. She was little prepared, however, for what I did next.