Nala Sopara, a place far away from the center and main place of Mumbai, located on Mumbai's Western line, sandwiched between Vasai and Virar in a corner near the sea was once a neglected and deserted place and which was the abode of fishermen only. In course of time, people of low income and the middle-class group started building their houses at Nala Sopara. But it was a suitable place for people coming from other states and had a huge migrant population. The typical chawl and slum population had taken over the place by migration as a lot of slums had emerged near the sea. Muthu Swami was 23 years old young man and he was living in this slum area of Nala Sopara. He was born in a rural place of Tamil Nadu state of India and at the age of 8 years, he became an orphan and started begging for his food. He had no idea how he had come to Mumbai 15 years before as he was a small boy of 8 years, he only remembered he was begging inside a train and reached Mumbai.
Now, at the age of 23 years, he was selling green coconuts for his livelihood. Thank God! He was a bachelor and his income was sufficient for his survival in a big metro city like Mumbai. He had a typical south Indian feature, the color of his skin was black like nigger, he was tall with sharp features in his face, a typical thick south Indian mustache in his upper lip but he was beardless, he had long hairs on his head, he was not much thinner rather he had a strong muscular feature on his chest, hands, and legs as he would walk on foot for miles and miles distance. He was a narialwala (Green coconut vendor), fondly he was called by everybody as Muthu Narialwala.
He would wear his typical south Indian outfit, a lungi (Lungi is a men's skirt usually tied around the lower waist below the navel. It is popular in south India). But his Lungi would be tucked-up in his waist in typical south Indian style( Folded above knees and tucked up in waist). The everyday morning he would start from the slum by carrying a heavy basket of a green coconut on his head along with a billhook (A tool having a sickle-shaped blade with a sharp inner edge, used for slicing off green coconut). He would travel in local trains and would reach Juhu beach. His main target of customers would be the visitors of sea beach, particularly the foreigners staying in nearby big hotels near Juhu beach.
Today, Muthu was wandering in the Juhu beach area with the heavy basket of green coconuts on his head. In the clammy weather of Mumbai, customers for the cool, refreshing milk of his coconuts were usually plentiful as he sold to some visitors of the beach. He kept moving north, from one area to the next and each was more deserted than the last. He plodded down the road that ran by the shore and reached near the shore adjunct to the big hotel 'Sun N Sand' and stood near the watchman of the hotel as he could not proceed ahead because it was the private area. Unlike other days, today there were few foreigners, Muthu was angry because it was a bad day for him. Luckily, one American couple came and asked for green coconuts. He picked out and carefully inspected two green coconuts which contained much water and then sliced off those with his billhook. But Muthu was not satisfied with his sales. The sun was fierce, and soon he was dripping with perspiration. He turned his way towards the other part of the hotel, hoping to get some more visitors or foreigners in that part. The tar sizzled and shimmered and squelched under his thick leather sandals. The road was deserted with large bungalows set well back, fronting the sea.
He noticed a narrow lane that led off the main road towards the sea. An unlocked gate swung open across the driveway that swept around a beautiful cabin house on the beach, surrounded by a wide fence and greenery with trees and a small garden inside. He stepped through the gate and walked down the drive. Evidently, the cabin house belonged to a millionaire. It was a big, rambling structure, with white adobe walls. It sprawled across in the middle with a broad sundeck. A lush garden swept from the house down to the beach which was enclosed on one side by a natural outcrop of rock and the other by a barbed-wire fence. The garden was deserted and the house was quiet.
The small door to the back of the house was open and Muthu could see through the backdoor the beating of waves of the sea approximately 100 meters away from him where he was standing. The back door was around 40 meters away from where he was standing. There was a large, brightly colored beach umbrella which was placed just near the small back door of the house, i.e.out of the back door, on the sand of the beach. There was also a table and a long deck chair with an adjustable back. Then he realized that he was a trespasser inside the area of the house. Then he thought it would be better for him to exist through the backdoor towards the beach before any occupant of the house sees him. Muthu was about to walk across the lawn to the beach when he saw a figure emerging from the waves.
He squinted through the shimmering haze. Ashmita waded out of the seawater and crossed the beach towards the back entrance of the house. It was a young woman. Muthu sucked in his breath sharply when he saw her. He slid back behind some fronds and tucked his basket load behind the luxuriant bushes. He snuggled into the shrubbery and peered onto the beach.
When Ashmita came towards back entry from the sea, Muthu could see her clearly, she must be in her forties but looked like a young woman of 25 years. She was sensational. She was dressed in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit. The brassiere was minuscule, thin threads over her shoulders and across her back. In front, they swept over the swell of her superb breasts and flared into Band-Aid-sized strips over her nipples. Her bikini panties were outrageous, little more than a G-string. Twin strings circled her hips and supported a narrow strip that dipped between her thighs. She wore it very low, well below her navel, just above her pubis. It barely covered her crotch.
The sun glittered on her wet body. She came near to the back door and without entering the house, she moved towards the large umbrella and table and deck chair under it. She picked up a towel from the table and mopped her face and body. She turned around and Muthu saw that her bikini panties had no back; the strip of cloth became a thin strand that ran between her naked buttocks. As he watched, the woman shook her head, her hands lifting to uncoil her dark hair from the nape of her neck. It tumbled to her waist.
Ashmita dropped the towel on the circular table by the umbrella and turned around again. The coconut vendor gaped. She was absolutely stunning. She was of medium height, with a fair, completely flawless complexion, she had a high-cheekbone, oval face with an exquisite jaw, and a fine, straight nose. Her eyes were lovely, shaped like almonds, and rimmed with kohl. Her mouth was sexy and she had perfect, even teeth. Her neck was long and elegant and led smoothly to full, firm, high breasts that were like succulent fruit and formed a deep and inviting cleavage. She wore a thin gold chain and a mangal sutra around her neck.
Ohh! Then this woman was married. Her belly was flat and firm, the legs lovely and shapely with no saddlebags or love handles. Her hips flared, and her waist was narrow, the arms and legs smoothly turned, the ankles and wrists slim, the feet and hands long and elegant.
The coconut vendor gaped. She was the loveliest creature he had ever seen, just like a film star. His penis swelled in his lungi, his wraparound loincloth, and he felt a stiff clamp in his belly and balls. He ached to fuck her. A large tote bag lay by the chair under the umbrella. Ashmita bent to unzip it and her breasts swung forward. She pulled out a hairbrush and ran it through her hair, then coiled it high on her head. As she lifted her arms, her breasts rose in her brassiere. She shrugged it off. Her breasts were large and heavy, with long nipples. She massaged them absently, and then pulled down her panties. The man gaped at the neatly trimmed dark delta framing her cunt.
Ashmita bent and rummaged in the bag again and her lovely breasts swung free. She straightened with a bottle of lotion in her hand. She flipped up the spout of the bottle and poured out lotion into her hand and began to smear her body with it. Muthu watched her rub cream into her breasts, squeezing and fondling them sensuously. She took more cream and massaged it into her belly and buttocks and legs, even the insides of her thighs. Her body glistened, she lay down on the chair and put on a pair of dark shades. From where he stood, the coconut vendor had an unobstructed view of her.
"Ashmita!" A man's voice called from the house behind him.
The coconut vendor turned his head and saw a muscular grey-haired old man trotting down the path to the beach. He was clad only in a pair of swimming trunks. The coconut vendor noticed his superb physique, the sculpted musculature. He jogged down to the beach.
"Well, hello, lover boy," Ashmita smiled, turning her face and holding out her hand.
