Tara s Bayou Level 1 Fresh Meat
- 3 years ago
- 58
- 0
Without You I Have Nothing Ch. 18 free porn video
So much laughter and fun filled the family’s return trip from Melbourne that the time quickly passed.
It was twilight as Andrew drove into the grounds of what he believed was his home and stopped, disoriented by the sight before him, unable to comprehend this was their driveway and their house.
Fascinated, the family could only stare at the myriad fairy lights bordering the driveway scattered in the trees and around the garden. The lights took their attention totally, so amazed were they at the sight.
‘What’s Peter up to now?’ Jennifer exclaimed.
Twin lines of brown-skinned, moon-faced, stocky little men dressed in army uniforms stood at attention at either side of the entrance steps. Each wore a white cummerbund around his waist and white gloves on his hands.
A tall, imposing, heavily bearded figure also in uniform and wearing a khaki turban stood at the top of the steps, and as the car stopped, he barked an order.
Four of the soldiers ran to open the doors and saluted the passengers.
Introducing himself in chant-like, heavily accented English as Rajit Singh, the turbaned officer, with head nodding from side to side, welcomed them.
‘May I have the pleasure of welcoming you to Sahib Peter’s Deepavali Party?’ He seemed almost sad as he continued. ‘Sahib Peter is absent on special business, but he promised to return as soon as possible. He should be here soon.’
At first apprehensive at the strangeness of the situation, the family seemed to relax a little once this unfamiliar officer mentioned Peter’s name. As well, his imposing presence and his obvious care for their comfort reassured them.
Patiently he explained that in Hinduism, Deepavali is perhaps the most well known Hindu festival – the Festival of Lights. Houses all over India and Nepal twinkle with tiny lights from clay lamps, lit to welcome the god Rama.
He pointed to the two statues on either side of their doorway and introduced them. The first was Rama, one of the most important manifestations of God, and the second, the goddess Lakshmi the Hindu Goddess of wealth, light, wisdom and fortune and also of luck, beauty, courage and fertility.
‘Please escort the memsahib and the young memsahib to their places. Bring the sahib and the young sahib with you.’ Rajit Singh turned to lead the way to the dining room.
A soldier walked with Elizabeth and another accompanied Jennifer. A third soldier guided Eric and a fourth ushered Andrew.
Walking silently behind the women Eric and Andrew allowed themselves to be guided, unable to comprehend what was happening. They heard Elizabeth’s whisper to Jennifer.
‘What’s going on?’
Jennifer’s offhand answer didn’t inspire them with confidence.
‘I think the army’s taken us over for the night, but which army I’m not certain.’
The hallway and dining room were ablaze with the flickering lights from small wicks burning in the miniature clay lamps and there was a strange smell of incense in the air.
It was not until one soldier bent to hold Elizabeth’s chair that Jennifer saw a khukuri hanging from his belt under his cummerbund.
Looking around, she noticed strange goblets on the table – each bearing the same coat of arms. The tumblers were not the usual and the settings were not the usual – indeed only the table, the chairs and the room were recognizable.
She picked up a silver goblet and studied the coat of arms. Her thoughts made her smile. Peter is a bugger. The coat of arms was the same as that on his plaque. What was he up to this time?
Her wondering thoughts went unanswered. No matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t come up with a solution as to why he had arranged this strange party. This was surely going to be a memorable night.
Deliberately, she looked around for other clues and noticed the officer studying her carefully. Why should the officer be observing her like that?
Peter has left on business has he? She looked at the officer more carefully and noted the khukuri at his waist. Peter was certainly a loveable rogue, but she was wondering what he’d planned. This game of his, as he acted the part of a Sikh Officer, would be most interesting.
At last, she knew the answer to her mother’s question and her heart sang as she leant across to set her mother’s worries at rest. ‘I believe this is another of Peter’s typical surprises. Moreover, guess what? He will be here soon. Tell Dad and Andrew, but don’t let any of the soldiers hear.’
Her mother had to strain to hear Jennifer’s whisper. Grinning, she did as Jennifer suggested. The haunted look in Eric’s eyes disappeared as he acknowledged the message and the family sat back to enjoy the party.
Taking up his position at the door, Rajit Singh clapped his hands. The soldiers immediately sprang to attention and began singing Abide with me. Although the family recognized the tune, the words were unrecognisable. For the family, it was an emotional moment.
‘That was one of Mahatma Gandhi’s favorite hymns and it’s played by the combined bands of the Indian Defense Forces during the annual Beating of the Retreat Ceremony held on 29th January,’ the officer announced when the hymn ended. ‘Please enjoy this humble meal.’
Again, he clapped his hands and the waiters – or maybe they were soldiers, by now, Jennifer was perplexed – served the first course.
Eric and Andrew were lost for words.
Smiling broadly as if they knew a secret, the waiters placed small serving after small serving before the family members until they had tasted every dish – from a white curry through to a black curry. Their taste buds reeled from the variety of dishes, and at last, they sat back, unable to continue.
‘I see you’re almost finished, but I do beg that you partake of a special sweet I have personally arranged for you.’ Rajit Singh spoke English to them now with that singsong Indian accent, although throughout the dinner, his orders had been in a language no one at the table recognized.
The conversation had been subdued.
The waiters placed a bowl of iced water and a single peeled banana on a plate before each of the family. Then a waiter stood beside each of them and dipped their banana into a bowl of molten toffee before plunging it into iced water. They placed a Toffee Banana on each plate then stood back.
Jennifer was first to taste. ‘Is this your recipe Rajit Singh? If it is, you will never leave this farm.’
The tone of her voice made the others look up from their plates before tasting their sweets. The twinkle in her eyes boded ill for someone.
‘You’re too kind, young Mem.’ His eyes glowed as he gave a slight bow in thanks. Then he continued. ‘My men are delighted you have enjoyed their endeavors. If you have finished your meal, would you all be so gracious as to follow me. I believe Sahib Peter will be joining you soon.’
He led the way to the lounge that was mellow in the light of numerous small candles.
Jennifer gasped to see Peter’s altar before the fireplace together with the pictures of his mother and father on the coffee table. Two of the family’s chairs and the settee were set in such a way that they faced both altar and pictures.
‘Please be seated and coffee will be brought to you immediately.’
The Sikh Officer barked an order and four soldiers marched in carrying trays holding coffee for each member of the family.
Only Jennifer thought it strange that the waiters had known the preferences of each family member. She was now positive that the game had progressed to the next stage.
Standing, she began to walk slowly to Rajit Singh. Reaching up to kiss his cheek, she whispered, ‘Peter you really can be most difficult and perplexing.’
Ignoring her, Rajit Singh barked a long stream of orders. The soldiers left and the door closed. Only then, did he snake his arm around Jennifer’s waist and lift her off
the floor to kiss her.
Immediately the family men folk leapt up but Jennifer, struggling out of Rajit’s arms to regain her feet began to laugh.
‘Mum, Dad, Andrew. May I introduce Peter O’Brien?’
Slowly, unwinding the full length of the perfectly constructed shape, Peter allowed the turban to fall to the floor. Bareheaded, he tore off pieces of uniform, casting them aside where they joined the turban. At last, he removed the brown contact lenses. He stood in just a dhoti — an Indian loincloth.
Laughing, Peter hugged Jennifer again.
‘I was praying you’d go along with me for that party as it was special. I needed to take all of you out of your comfort zone.
‘Did you like my Ghurkha friends? Yes they’re real, and yes, they’re in the British Army, out here on training exercises.’
The hubbub of questions stopped when Peter held up his hand.
‘Tonight I will answer all your questions about my family and my history. However, before the evening progresses any further I must warn you that I’ll become very emotional and will do things that are completely out of your experience.
‘I know the facts may alarm you and may even sicken you, but I’ve decided that I’ll go ahead and give you my total history exactly as it was. I won’t gloss over the facts.
‘You’ve asked questions and I’ll give you the truth about me – my life – my history. Nothing less will do. Don’t hesitate to ask questions and I’ll answer them truthfully, although the revelation may turn you against me. It’s a risk I’ll take for the sake of Jennifer.’
‘Now for my history.’
Slowly, Peter walked to the altar and knelt, knowing that Jennifer’s family could see his heavily scarred back for the first time. Behind him, he could hear the family’s reactions as Elizabeth gasped at the sight and Eric sucked in a deep breath. Andrew’s exclamation, ‘My God!’ showed he also had seen the scars.
Bewildered and stunned by the sight of Peter’s back, no one asked a question.
Peter lit the customary joss sticks and silently prayed before turning to face the family. His eyes blazed with an intensity Jennifer had never seen as he moved to the coffee table and put his hands on the photographs.
‘Perhaps you’ve guessed that these are photos of my mother and father. But first, let me start at the beginning.’
Fascinated, Jennifer watched as Peter stood in front of her father. Then he sank to the floor prostrating himself. He inched forward to place his forehead on her father’s shoes before repeating the actions on her mother’s sandals.
Standing slowly, he turned his back on them and lowered his dhoti so they could see his back and buttocks.
Aghast the family gasped and, satisfied that they had seen clearly, Peter retied his dhoti.
Again, he prostrated himself before Jennifer’s parents and then moved into a kneeling position. With head held high, demanding their attention with his steady gaze, he faced them proudly.
‘Eric and Elizabeth, I love your daughter deeply. She will never want for material things and she will never want for my love. In spite of my many failings, I am begging your permission to marry Jennifer.’
Smiling kindly, Eric rose to lift Peter to his feet.
‘Both Elizabeth and I would be most honored to welcome you into our family, but don’t you think you had better ask Jennifer? Only she can say yes. However, if it’s any consolation, Elizabeth and I would be delighted.’
Peter turned to Jennifer and sinking to his knees, he stared into her eyes as if trying to read her soul. Hesitantly he took her hands.
‘Jennifer, I asked you down by the creek and the answer was ‘Yes’. I love you with all my heart and soul. With you, I have everything, without you, I have nothing. I am asking you again in these formal surroundings. Will you marry me? Or have you perhaps changed your mind?’
Jennifer rose and with her eyes gleaming with love, her face wreathed in a broad smile she pulled him to his feet, staring into his eyes. ‘Peter, I said yes then and I will say yes every day for the rest of my life. Yes I will marry you.’
Peter reached for her left hand and slipped a ring onto her finger.
‘God, now he’s torn it. You’ll be sorry! Take it from me. I’ve lived all my life with her.’ Andrew couldn’t restrain himself but no one took the slightest notice.
‘I thought you had something special to tell us.’ Eric grinned, and pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. ‘Well, young man, you’ve certainly given the family a great present – yourself.’
Fighting her way out of her husband’s lap Elizabeth swooped on them, kissing them both, then examined Jennifer’s engagement ring.
‘Peter it’s beautiful.’ She looked down again and shook her head. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful!’
The two women laughed and cried while Peter watched, dumbfounded.
‘A deep green emerald surrounded by diamonds in a setting of platinum. Peter it’s magnificent.’ Elizabeth hugged Peter before leading Jennifer to her father and brother to display the ring.
Andrew rushed into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of champagne and glasses.
‘Just as well we were prepared, though why Sis picked you I’ll never know,’ declared Andrew, thrusting a foaming glass of champagne into Peter’s hand before handing full glasses to the others.
‘We’re all delighted.’ He’d noticed Peter’s shock at the women’s behavior as they clung to each other, weeping and laughing.
Eric added, ‘Don’t worry, those are happy tears. They’re both happy.’ He dragged them apart, handing Jennifer back to Peter while both took their champagne. ‘Jennifer’s almost yours now, so you had better learn to control her. God knows, I’ve tried for twenty-four years now and failed. Perhaps you’ll have better success’
Trying to wipe her eyes clear of the happy tears, Jennifer only laughed and clung to Peter, until he bent to kiss the tears away.
While the excitement was dying down, Peter went behind the altar and returned with the diamond necklace and earrings, which he carefully placed in Jennifer’s hands.
‘These, my own sweet love, are yours. Could you please wear them on our wedding day? They are to be handed down through the family.’
To Elizabeth he explained, ‘They were my mother’s and I’m sure she would be ecstatic to see Jennifer wearing them. Tonight she would know the jewels are being handed to her future daughter-in-law and will be worn at our wedding.’
As if frightened it would disappear, Jennifer had eyes only for her ring, which she studied carefully.
When it was quiet and the family had recovered, they waited for him to continue.
Before he commenced, he sat Jennifer and her mother in the wide settee with Andrew and Eric in the chairs to the side.
Squatting Asian style in front of them and with his plaque and pictures behind him he started his story.
‘You asked me about horse riding. Well, my great grandfather rode eight winners at the Gragene Picnic Races then fell down the back steps of Warialda pub, broke his hip and died at the age of ninety-two.
‘My grandfather had me on a horse almost every day before I left Australia at the age of five and I suppose I haven’t forgotten all he taught me.’
As if terrified of continuing, Peter swung about to kneel before the pictures of his parents and begged in a small, weak voice, ‘Forgive me but I must explain to my new family – I must tell the truth.’
Waiting patiently, everyone was silent. No one moved or commented as he sat back on his heels and continued. To them it was strange to see this scarred young man talking to photos of his parents as if they were there in the room with him, but they were prepared to go along with his unusual ways now that he was to be one of them.
This was the strangest situation any one of them had experienced – the meal, the servants, the Deepavali Party and now this.
A deep feeling of uneasiness s
ettled on Eric as he began to rethink his position. I wonder if I have misjudged this young man. No matter what, I have to protect Jennifer. Is this story going to reveal good or bad — is this Peter a criminal? I have to know what Jennifer is letting herself in for. He sat back and waited trying to keep an open mind.
‘My father was posted by the RAAF to Butterworth, Malaysia and we lived on the Island of Penang. As a boy of five, I was so proud of my school uniform of white shirt, navy blue short trousers, white socks and black shoes. The RAAF emblem on the shirt pocket made the uniform special. Even the RAAF bus taking me to and from school was special. Yes I was so proud until one day,’ Peter stopped, his eyes misting.
Turning to Jennifer he begged, ‘Must I go on?’
‘You know you must. Tonight you must get rid of the phantoms so they never return. It isn’t fair to my parents if they don’t know their son-in-law.’
Peter took a deep breath and tuned to stare fixedly at his mother’s picture. There was a long pause as he re-gathered his thoughts. Slowly he turned to face the family before speaking.
‘Bussed home because of race riots, I arrived back early one day. Hearing screams and moans coming from my parent’s bedroom, I rushed past the servants into the bedroom to see a Chinese man lying between my naked mother’s legs. She was moaning and groaning and I began to pummel the man’s bare back trying to save her.
‘That man threw me against the wall and stood naked. His ugly, pocked marked face showed his hatred for me as he snarled in anger, ‘What do you think you’re doing Little One coming between a man and his whore?’ In spite of my mother’s pleading to let me be, he repeatedly punched me about the body until I cried, begging him to stop.’
‘He called the amah and cook to come and take me away, but then changed his mind. ‘No, hold him here and make him watch how a man deals with his slut. Watch, Little One and learn.’ Turning to my mother he snarled, ‘Be good – be very good or your spawn will feel my anger’.
‘For years I believed he was my mother’s lover but I eventually learnt how he had blackmailed my Mother by threatening to kill my father and me.
Oblivious of the white, horrified looks and the gasps of disbelief as the women clutched each other’s hands Peter allowed the horror to unfold. He even disregarded the loud complaints of the men.
‘The servants ordered me to remain quiet about my mother and the ugly Chinese although they knew he was doing everything to humiliate her. How I hated that man.
‘Months after that first afternoon, we were to go to the Cameron Highlands. My Dad, oblivious of Mother’s blackmail said it was to be a second honeymoon and was eager to take us on this holiday, but on the way, a truck blocked the road. My father got out to see if he could help clear the road and a burst of gunfire cut him down.
‘I saw my first dead body – that of my father, and lots of blood – his blood – stained my clothes and washed the sweat from my face that afternoon.’
At this point, a deep sob rose from Peter’s chest. His head dropped and he was unable to speak for a few minutes, reliving that awful moment. He could smell the jungle, he could feel the heat and he could sense that death, even now.
Ignoring the horrified reactions of the family and their expressions of both shock and sympathy Peter took a deep breath. With his eyes closed, he continued, his voice broken by the emotions he was reliving from that dreadful day.
‘Mum was screaming while I just stood there, absolutely panic-stricken, waiting for my father to rise and give orders, but a smelly rice bag was thrown over my head. Someone trussed me to a bamboo pole and hoisted me. Off they went, carrying me into the jungle as if I was a pig going to the local market.
‘I called to my mother, but a punch in the ribs and a hash bark of ‘No’ in Cantonese kept me quiet. For how long I hung from that pole, I have no idea. I can remember the heat, the thirst, the hunger and the roar of choppers dipping low overhead.
Julianne
- 16.12.2022
- 22
- 0
Tara s Bayou Level 2 ndash Evil Dong
- 2 years ago
- 56
- 0
Give Me Some Sugar Part 1 Rochelles Tryout
- 3 years ago
- 49
- 0
