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Punjabi Wedding

I hate working on Saturday. I especially hate shooting pictures of weddings. Worst of all I hate shooting pictures for the second wedding of my father. He pays me a flat Rs. 1,00,000 for the work. It is as much as I make working a full month on the road, but I would have preferred to be out and about. I know for a fact that my dad makes much more money than I do.

Logically I know that he earns it, but I still don't like it. It seems that being family only goes so far. Daddy isn't above making more money for doing less work, but then I don't usually make 1 lakh on a Saturday, even if I am doing a festival.

The wedding had been a bore, and the group shots afterwards were a pain. Not only did I have to contend with the camera and the light juggling, I also had to fend off one of the shamiana workers. When were guys going to figure out that a woman is programmed from birth to say no. At least when a guy asks, "Hey baby do you wanna fuck?"

I felt the familiar knife twist in my gut several times during the reception. Fortunately, I was able to fight off most of the blackouts. Not all but most of them. The few times I drifted off, it was for no more than a moment or two.

I had been slipping in and out of consciousness all afternoon. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on but it happened now and then. When my daddy’s best friend gave the toast at the reception, I knew he was my kind of guy. He was confident and serious, while still being charming. He managed to avoid me and I couldn't seem to stay awake. Whenever I did manage to stay long enough to get a look his wife had monopolized his time.

Even photographers have to use the bathroom. I had washed up, picked up my camera and opened the ladies room door when I saw him in the hallway. He stepped forward and I stepped back. He in effect followed me back into the bathroom.

"I've seen you staring at me, you are quite the little slut aren't you."

The knife twisted in my gut again and I was gone. My eyes went to the floor without even thinking. It was the reaction sexually charged people, with presence had on me. I'm sure there is some shrink reading this that can tell you why that happens. I don't have a clue. I just tend to get all squishy inside.

"Well aren't you?"

"Yes," I replied quietly.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," I said slightly louder.

"It's good that a woman knows her place." Without another word he unzipped his fly. He didn't have to speak I knew what I was supposed to do. I slipped to my knees on the dirty floor of the bathroom. The Nikon hung from a strap around my neck. It struck him below the knees. He and I both ignored it as I licked his cock. I licked it like and ice cream cone. I licked from his testicles up to the head of his cock. I avoided the thin liquid seeping from the hole. I repeated it until the liquid covered the complete head of his cock.

When next I reached the head, I sucked on just the head to clean the thin cum from it. While I was cleaning the head of his cock he put his hands in my hair and forced me down onto his cock. I felt it move across my tongue. I tried to prepare myself for the assault of his cock on my throat. I still gagged a little as he forced it past the opening in my throat and farther down my neck.

He held me pinned while I felt the need to breath. I was almost out of oxygen when he pulled back. when his cock left my throat I inhaled deeply. He didn't remove his cock from my mouth. He let me inhale deeply three times then forced his cock back past my throat again. When his cock was deep down my neck, he put his hand on my throat to feel himself. I heard him groan with pleasure.

There was a burst of light but I hardly noticed. He was moving in my throat while I almost passed out form lack of oxygen. He didn't seem to notice that I was light headed. He fucked my throat until he came. Fortunately, it was quickly accomplished. After he removed his wilted cock from my throat, I fell back against the wall gasping for air. I saw the burst of light yet again. I had no idea how many pictures of his cock down my throat had been made, or by who. Frankly I didn't care I was lost in the feeling of it all. Uncle Sooraj laughed and walked away.

I came to sitting on the floor of the bathroom. After a few minutes I did manage to clean myself up and return to the reception. I avoided the eyes of everyone there until the final dance. I managed somehow to make the last shot of the bride and groom leaving. I had no idea what had happened in that bathroom but I knew it wasn't good. I was a mess when I came around.

Back in the banquet hall I packed my cameras. I had to force myself not to run away. If anything unprofessional had happened my dad would have a fit. I didn't like working for him but it beat all of my other alternatives.

The moment I arrived home I turned on my exhaust fan, the apartment was like a pizza oven. After a hot shower, I applied oil liberally to my body. I was wet and greasy so I put a sheet over the cloth office chair and then sat down at the computer. The first think I did was to copy all the cards onto cds. then I copied them onto an empty drive on my computer. Once I had all my copies made, I set the desktop to transmit the files to my dad's server.

While the files uploaded I switched to my laptop. I had bought it off a drunk for 10,000 rupees only. It most likely was stolen, but what did I care. Since I had fast WIFI connection I was on line within seconds. The knife twisted again and I was lost.

Finding my way into the chat room was just a matter of signing off and back on again under my own ID. I looked for my friend but he/she wasn't on line. It was a bummer. I could have found someone I suppose but the voice as I came to think of my tormentor was just so good at what he/she did to me. I just signed off and let go. I drifted back to sleep.
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