Ravi left me on the sofa with his uncle sitting to my right. He had his arm casually resting on the back of the sofa behind my head. He was leaning his head back on his shoulder trying to look down my open sundress. I met Ravi in my first year of College. He was an International Student from Mumbai. We weren’t too close but he was well aware that I was keen on learning about the Hindi culture. He had invited me to his weekend cricket match with his friends and I was the only white girl there, so I enjoyed plenty of attention throughout the day.

All five men had been staring at my braless breasts all day at the cricket match. The sun pass through my white, sheer sundress, revealing the outline of my slim figure that left little doubt that I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. They seem to have a universal fetish for white chicks and I couldn’t be any whiter with my Scottish red hair and pale, freckled skin. I’ll admit it. I’m a little voyeuristic. I like men to look at me, that’s why I didn’t wear any underclothes and I knew you could almost see through my dress too, especially in strong sunlight.

The hotel room we were in was a little cooler than I had expected. My nipples poking out through my dress and I was shivering a little from the chill in the air and with the anticipation of what might happen if I wasn’t careful. OK, so I wasn’t being careful. But it wasn’t entirely my fault. I didn’t anticipate the cold hotel room and I didn’t anticipate Ravi bailing on me either. I just sat there politely, folded my arms across my tummy trying to keep warm but all I succeeded in doing was hoisting my boobs up and outward like I was wearing a push-up bra.

I had always had good experiences with Indians. They had always been polite and cordial so I had assumed that I’d be safe enough with a group of men that Ravi had vouched for, otherwise I never would have went back to their room. They were looking at me differently now, kind of like a pack of wolves eyeing up a sheep. The two men that had been perched on the bed in front of me, looked me over from head to toe and had been whispering back and forth in Hindi for a while. The youngest guy in the group sat at a desk by the patio door all by himself, looking at my legs and then my tits; legs, then tits. I’m sure that he cum if I just unzipped his pants. He was randy as hell and I could see it on his face.

Where the hell is Ravi? I thought to myself. He said “I’ll be back in 2 minutes!” That was like 20 minutes ago. Maybe he meant, 2 minutes Indian Time?

Ravi’s Uncle’s hand slid down from the back of the sofa. He reached around and brushed my long red hair behind my ear and complimented my pale white complexion. The his index finger curled my hair around my ear then gently down my neck as one of the men that had been sitting on the bed eased his way to the opening Ravi had left beside me. He put one hand on my knee and the other on the armrest of the sofa as he plunked down aggressively. There was a gush of air from the sofa cushions that lifted me and blew up between my legs lifting my dress like Marilyn Munroe. I push my dress back down and wedged it between my legs. I’m almost certain that it was and accident and I’m equally certain that the guy on the bed got a clear view of by crotch. He just glance up, grinned at me for a second and then looked down at my breasts again.

“Such a fine dress!” he commented as his right hand pressed the material for my dress against my knee. He rubbed his hand back and forth on my knee several times then slowly made his way up my inner thigh towards my groin. “Is that cotton?” He said with a grin.

“I’m sure it is.” Added Uncle as he rubbed my shoulder, then reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress.

“Let me see what the tag says.” said the aggressive one as pushed my head forward and twisted the neckline inside out to see the tag. “Yes indeed!” he exclaimed. “Just as we thought, 100% cotton. It is very sexy and what makes it especially sexy is that you don’t have a bra! You like to look sexy, don’t you? You like to have men looking at you, don’t you? I can make that dress much more sexy. Get my scissors!” he barked to his partner sitting on the edge of the bed like a vulture.

He jumped to his feet like a puppet and rushed to the bathroom to rummage through a shaving kit. I could hear the clinking of metal for a few seconds until he found what he was looking for and then the sound of bare feet slapping against the bathroom tile he rushed out of the bathroom with scissors in hand and a silly grin on his face.

“What this dress needs is a lower neckline,” said the aggressive one as he clutched the scissors from the hands of his puppet.

The aggressive one slit around in his seat a little so he could get a full frontal view of me and slid the open sheers into the top of my dress.