This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent speci...ic places or living persons.None of this story has any relevance to a historical India. It is a fiction based in a mythical country which is one character's imagination of what India might seem to be after consuming too much alcohol. The persons, acts and customs are those of a mythical place which has no basis in reality.* * * * *Harold Plays. He could hear her moans and sighs from the microphones he'd hidden in her bedroom and he watched as his older sister was steadily bringing herself to the point of orgasm. It didn't take long. Heather was even hotter and sexier than he'd imagined. Heather soon had almost the entire vibrator sliding inside her pussy and then she'd pull it out and let it vibrate her clit and then she'd insert the vibrator inside her pussy again and she'd buck and move her hips in rhythm with the in and out fucking. “Yes, yes, yes!” I moaned. “Ooh, you're going to cum on my dildo, aren't you, Mrs. Morris?”“Mmm, yes,” Mrs. Morris moaned. “That's so good.”“Fuck my mom until she cums!” gasped Britney. “Because... Because... Yes!”Britney bucked through her orgasm. My girlfriend threw back her head. Her brown hair danced. Her small titties had such a cute amount of jiggle to them. I watched them as I drove my hips forward, burying the dildo into her mother's pussy.Mrs. Morris moaned as she drank her daughter's. "This card has the $7,500 on it for the gold that you gave me yesterday. If you need more than that, let me know, and we'll see what can be done," he told us. Pat and I sat there flabbergasted. We had never had that much money at one time in our lives."Thank you, Grandfather!" we both said, still shocked. Grandfather got three bottles of O'Connell's Irish Ale out of the refrigerator, and we sat there and drank them until the women returned.When our Grandmothers and our girlfriends returned.