A Pleasant Takeover

Everyone in this story is of the legal age limit. This story is pure fantasy and in no way a true representation of real life. It is not intended to offend, though it might. Please remember: It's all fantasy! Any and all feedback is much welcomed; please feel free to e-mail me any thoughts you may have.

***

Karl went into his house and was greeted by his two Indian teens

"Dad!" they said in unison.

"Ah, nice, you're getting used to it now."

They smiled and nodded proudly.

"Dad," said his son, "Dad, that Indian man came to pick up the last of his stuff, he tried getting mouthy with me but I reminded him who my dad is."

"Good boy," Karl scuffled his hair. "Let him know."

"I like it so much better with you here, Dad," added his daughter.

"Thanks, both of you, now go back to your rooms."

They rushed away to their rooms.

Rena, wearing a salwar dress, came walking to her man.

"Hello, how was your day." She put her arms around her broad neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Hard, but all worth it when I come home." He looked down at his cock and grinned, "Speaking of hard."

"Ohh," she put her hand on his bulge, "Come, I'll take care of it."

She led him to the bedroom, he sat on the bed, took his clothes off, she pulled her hair back and began sucking his big, boiling white cock. He stretched his arms and legs, feeling the tingle all over his shaven body. Karl knew then that his friend Trevor was right: this was so the right choice of woman for him.

***

It all started at the gym his friend Trevor had recently purchased and refurbished. The mood of the place was evident before he even stepped foot inside. Coming out before he went in was a couple. The woman was slender, long-legged, dark brown beauty of a woman, wearing a tight white vest and clinging track pants. The man was much like Karl, tall, white, good body. There were walking arm in arm, big smiles on both their faces.

"Paul?" she asked in an Indian accent.

"Yes." He said with his hand placed on her tight Indian buns.

"My house is just over there; would you like dinner before we make love?"

"Yes, please, that would be great."

After stepping inside, Karl saw that it was a nice facility, all the latest equipment, plenty of room and plenty of weights. It didn't feel manufactured nor had the taste of a corporation around it, this gym felt very homely. It was a modern, western building with a little Indian decor mixed in.

Karl went to the nearby changing rooms to get ready. All the guys there, again, all like Karl himself, white men with good bodies, all surprisingly polite – and all of them walking around nude and looking very comfortable about it. As odd as it may seem, Karl was feeling quite good in his new surroundings.

"New guy? Good to have you here, mate," said a man who looked to be about 60 but had good body tone and definition.

"Yeah, thank you."

"Great place this, I'm sure you'll love it, fucking love it, hee-hee."

Karl smiled and nodded. While changing, the conversations around the room made for interesting hearing.

"So Amandeep told me her parents were coming over, I asked her if we should be having sex that evening, she looked at me if I was nuts! She told me we had to, let them know we got a great sex life, be proud. So I meet them, her mom's nice but her dad's a dick, kept muttering stuff under his breath, not happy to be there at all. So, well anyway, we do our usual thing, real loud as normal. Next morning, her dad makes a smarky comment about his daughter's moans, I grab the fucker and tell him no one speaks of my woman like that in my house, kick the guy out. And that's not all: Aman's mom talks to her daughter about what she heard, admits she's proud and says she herself wants a change! So I ring Pete, you know him, that shopkeeper, nice guy. I hook him up with Aman's Mom, they do the date at his place and Aman's Mom still there: it's been three days. She rung us and told us she loves him and never been happier, all thanks to us."

"She said when she felt this inside her *holding cock* she said she knew what real sex was like. I told her husband, 'now she's had this, she's not settling for less, so hit the bricks like she always wanted you to.'"

"So I was chilling back, relaxing, then Arti walked right by me in these tiny fucking shorts, her little brown butt so fine. I told her straight; 'hey, if you're going to dress like that in my house, take your clothes off and get in that bedroom – now' guess what? She smiled and let me get down on her all night ~. I told her I'm not responsible for my actions if she dresses so sexy infront of me, so guess what she does? Wears only tank-tops and shorts around me, hmm I love that woman!"

"I love it when my Indian woman cops me some attitude, love it! I told my woman to go to the bedroom, she told me to "work for it", man I grabbed her and just threw her on the bed, clothes off, pussy plowed, bed shattered, she loves that kinda sex, can't get enough of it, last week she wore little white lingerie when I came home, man I just turned red, the sex that night, oh boy, her everything was sore that morning!"

"So I see this hot Indian woman on the beach, sexy, sexy body, but her husband was such an a-hole, shouting, telling her to cover up. So I approach her, flirt with her, heavy, tell that man to fuck off, then walked off with her and fucked her all night. You know who she is now? My wife. She said it was so liberating for her and her friends, picking the kind of men they really want. Being on top of her feels so natural."

"Such a state when I came in, kids running the house. I'd see enough, I told her to get her kit off, get in the bedroom, told those kids to shut it, do their chores, afterwards I went in, fucked their Indian mom so hard, left the door a little open so they could hear, after I was done they were perfect angels."

Also inside were some Indian teens that referred to the white men as "dad".

"I told her 'Mom, put on the tight dress, show them some cleavage, some leg, the butt will look great, toss that wedding ring away! parents evening is the best place for Indian mothers to find white husbands,' I told her this and later that night that man standing over there, my father, took her and made her his woman, he's not left the house since."

"My white dad, who was just a neighbour back then, was invited over for dinner after he made Indian dad go away. After eating my mom sent me outside, to your house remember? Well before I left I saw her doing a strip dance, tearing off her Indian dress and dancing sexually in her white bra and thong! When I came home in the morning the street was talking about how loud their fucking was, lots of Indian moms were approaching me and asking me about my new white dad."

An Indian teen handed a set of pictures to the old white man Karl had seen earlier.

"Here you go Grandpa, the pictures you wanted."

"The pictures of your mum? Good lad. Oh she picked a nice dress, nice. I'll show this to my single white friends, they gonna be all over her, I'll pick the best man, I promise that. Hey that Indian dad of yours say anything, let me know, he won't do nothing with my protection on ya. And what's with the grandpa stuff? I got an Indian wife same age as your mum and a son same age as you, hahaha, no it's fine, I'm just kidding, I'm old and I know it."

Just then, Trevor, the owner of the gym, mid-40's, 6'3, well-built, short brown hair, dressed only in his shorts, walked in, waving and nodding to everyone.

"Hi Karl." He said with a firm handshake.

"Hello Trevor, great work you done with this place."

"Thank you, thank you...so you going to hit the weights?"

"Yeah, only a couple today."

"Well, friendly advice here: lose the shirt. oh and we got a no shoes policy here."

"Huh?"

"Trust me, trust me. You'll thank me later," he said with a big grin.

"Well...Ok."

"Gotta get going, see ya."

Karl walked into the gym in just his shorts. He stood there, his bare feet on the brown rug. As soon as he went in he found himself almost drowning in a sea of hot spicy Indian women. They walked around the gym sweaty, giggly, excited. many of the Indian women were canoodling with their white men, not in a loud, obnoxious way as most public displays of affection are, oh no, the union of a white man and Indian woman in these confines was nothing but just and respectful. A white/Indian kiss was a public display of pride, met with smiles and polite nods, no one jealous, no envy because they all knew what they'd be getting what they want when they leave: spicy Indian pussy, big white cock. Karl knew this was no ordinary gym: it was a place of meeting for white men and Indian women. Karl felt his attire was suited to the occasion, it felt so natural to him, being so unclothed infront of these woman,

Karl fit right in, what with his solid, lightly toned 210 body and 6'4 frame. He was a tough looking, ruggedly handsome kinda guy, in his early 50's, with trim black hair and hazel eyes.

He'd never been around so many tasty, spicy Indian women before – nor had he ever tasted their delight. He intended to test the stories his new gym-friends had told him, all them either with Indian girlfriends or wives. They told him about the Indian women's attitude to sex, their willingness to please the man and their all-important hungering for white cock, that strong want of a powerful, proud white man to be their man and take his rightful place on top of the Indian woman (figuratively and actually).

The place appealed to Karl's inner most senses, from the smell of white-hot sweat and flowery pink-rose. He took a peek into the yoga studio, this only increased his temperature: the tight supple mocha-skinned women getting their bodies limber for the pleasure of their white masters.

After finishing his set of weights, he saw a woman that immediately caught his attention. She had dusky brown skin, long dark hair, a toned yet womanly figure, around 5'7, long sexy legs, peachy breasts and a round, well toned ass, wearing a white vest and black trackpants –and she didn't have a white man in her vicinity. He found his prey.

"Hello, hello."

She turned and smiled. "Oh, um, hello," she said with an Indian accent.

"Was just noticing you over there, thought I'd say hi. My name's Karl by the way."

"I'm Rena. How are you?" Rena held her hands on her hips, amazed at the white specimen in front of her.

"I'm great, couldn't be better. This your first time? Same with me."

"Y-Yes, my friend recommended I come here, she said it was just what I needed."

"I don't get why she'd say that, you're already in fine, fine shape."

Rena rubbed her hands together. "T-thank you ...but to be perfectly honest, I did not come here for the workout."

"Oh really?" Karl liked where this was going, but then a spanner got thrown in the works: He noticed the ring on her finger.

"Ah, married."

She seemed surprised. "Ah, this? I'm sorry; I forgot to take it off."

"Forgot?"

"Yes. In this gym, Indian women only wear rings when they have white lovers."

He looked around and noticed that many of the Indian women did have rings.

"Ah I see." he smiled and grinned.

"Yes, I have come looking for a white man."

"Well, not to be too forward with you, but Rena, I'd like to put my name in the running."

Rena got a big smile on her face. "Yes, to be honest, I had my eye on you for a while, I-I just didn't have the courage to say hello."

"Well I want you to know I'm very, very interested." Karl stepped forward.

"Wait a second please. I need to tell you that I am not looking just for sex, though I do, umm, I do desire it, but with us Indian women here, we are dating these white men, not just giving sex but in a real relationship. I have two children, a girl and a boy, my husband is a horrible little man that I want no more of. Now you're under no pressure but you must accept the, umm, as Americans put it, baggage I come with."

"Done," he said without a seconds thought, "I'm going for lunch and I want you to come with me

"Yes, please, I'll like that.

"Give me your phone."

She handed it to him, her put his number in.

He gave her back her phone, leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Keep that ring on, not for your husband sake: for mine. Meet me after I'm done showering."

She blushed while smiling. "Yes, of course."

***

After the workout they went for a quick lunch, officially declaring that they were dating. Karl made it very clear that if her husband disagreed, caused any problems or did anything to interfere, he'd have to answer to Karl. On their second date, her in a blue sari dress, they talked at length about their upbringings, their lives, there was an instant connection. By the end of the dinner they were holding hands, her shyness melting away. They talked more on the phone. Through these conversations they found what each wanted. Rena feared the kids would be stumbling block, though Karl didn't see it this way; to him it was a non-factor. He wanted to be with her and saw no problem in being her man, a provider and a real father-figure to her kids. He told her what he wanted: to settle down and have a dependable woman who services him daily, she was more than willing to be his woman.

Rena told him the daughter was going to be fine with everything, but the son was not going to be. Her son was quite bratty, a nuisance too many, didn't respond to authority and generally rude to all. Karl felt it was his duty to set her son right, sit him down and tell him what's what, he knew he could and wanted to. Rena was really appreciative. He arranged for her and her son to visit him in his office at his work. Inside, Karl could hear them coming, his blood boiled as he heard her son grumbling.

"Grr I don't want to come here, this is useless, I won't listen to him, this is dumb."

"Son, please, you have to show him respect."

"Respect? What for? I'm going to tell him to fuck well off."

"Vjay!"

"What?"

They saw the doorway and she knocked politely.

"May we come in?" she asked.

He flung the door open, concealing his rage. "Yes, please. Rena could wait you outside? I'd like to speak with him in private."

"Yes, go on in Son."

He grumbled inside and sat himself down on the chair. Karl shut the door, his fist in a ball. He was pissed that her son had shown such disrespect to his mother – Karl's woman. Karl sat next to Vjay, staring at him.

"My name is Karl,"

"Who are you? Huh?"

"I know your mother very well –"

"Who the fuck are you and what am I doing here?"

Karl looked at him with a deadly serious expression. "Vjay. Look at me: don't ever talk to me like that. Me nor your mother." He spoke softly yet with much power in his words. "This is not how you speak to me: you show me proper respect."

Vjay's whole body was trembling. "Y-yeah, yeah ok...sorry."

"I wanna see your behaviour change – right now. I'll make sure your behaviour changes for the better, understand? If I see or hear about no change from your mother you'll have me to answer to. Understood? Your mother is my woman and she is not to be treated that way, from now you listen to me, I'm the highest authority you know of."

Vjay was stunned; the brashness of this man was unbelievable. He'd just declared the boy's mother and him to be under his ownership. As abused it sounded, Vjay could not dispute it: it was the truth.

"What you say? What the fu – sorry, what do you mean? How do you?"

"Our affairs are no business of yours, learn to respect our boundaries. I am only letting you know as a common courtesy. I warn you, for your sake, not to interfere or disrupt what's going on between me and your mother? Her primary role is to give me pleasure and comfort for my hard day's work, her duties to me are more important than any she has for you. Do not think you have any say in who your mother sees: you have none. I am a man, you are a boy to me, I have higher authority than you, I am the man of the house and I am your father: you are my son. Respect me and I will show you the respect your role deserves, understood? Oh and the Indian man, he has no say in the matter. Just in case he does protest me and your mother's relationship, I'm putting you in charge of keeping him at bay. Understand? You're my responsibility now; so that Indian man tries anything let me know."

"I, umm, yes, Sir, yes." Vjay answered with his head down, he didn't react with anger or malice, just with revered respect. He'd been humbled. Unlike his Indian father, this was a real man

"Good. I'd knew you'd understand." He stood up, patted Vjay on the shoulder

He opened the door to see his mother, she heard it all and could not hide her excitement, the display of power by him, the strong white man, was a great thing to her.

"Thank you, thank you so much." She extended her hand, he held it. Her son walked by, noticing the chemistry his Indian mother and the white man had.

At this moment Karl decided it was all his: he wanted it and he was going to have it.

"Rena, I think I'm coming to dinner, is that ok?"

"Perfect," she replied cheerfully. "Please, come."

"Excellent, I'll see you at around eight," he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, lingering long enough to make the message clear: he was coming to take what was his. That night he knew where that son's Indian mother would be ending up that night: on her back, nude in the bed, getting a large dose of white cock.

***

Rena was excited for this visit, one major factor turning her on: Karl's promise of dominance. Through their conversations and messages, Karl had made one thing abundantly clear: he was not coming to court her; he was coming to take her. Karl was a dominant man, even by current standards set at the gym. Karl did not request pictures from her: he demanded them. Whenever, wherever, a request from Karl for pictures would mean Rena would stop what she was doing and send him a picture, as she was, He let Rena know she was his and he was going to do what he wants, how he wants: Rena was thrilled beyond her wildest expectations.

He drove himself over. Karl knew he had two options: meet her and her family, fuck her, stay in house and keep fucking her OR meet her and the family, fuck her, own the house and the family. Karl favoured the later much more so, he felt something special with Rena after just meeting her once and all the phone conversations confirmed his feelings. He was going to decide his decision by his gut feeling when he entered the house. He knocked and she opened the door.

As soon as he stepped foot in that door, he felt an immediate sense of belonging rush over him. He saw his Indian woman: She was wearing a gleaming white form-fitting Indian dress, gold bangles around her arm, traditional red symbol on forehead. He smiled as his beautiful Indian woman came to him, beaming, holding his hands and kissing him on the cheek. Karl made up his mind: This was his house.

"Thank you so very much for coming, Karl."

"Oh honey you know I wanted to," Karl's elation was deflated when he saw Rena's husband leering out the corner. Karl was more than annoyed: he was offended. Karl's head was rushing with angered thoughts, one prevailing statement repeating itself: 'what is this Indian man doing in MY house?' Karl saw him as someone intruding onto his property, he wanted her husband gone. He gave her husband a look, and mouthed these words.

"Out of my house, right now."

The Indian husband saw this look, heard his whisper and quickly scurried out the door.

While holding hands with Rena, he saw her two teenage kids. Karl gave a friendly nod to her daughter, she replied happily. He then saw her son, who nodded to Karl, then walked off.

"Mind having a talk with him?" asked Rena.