Bollywood Nights

By N. J. Winnington

Priya is an up and coming starlet in Bollywood, and something of a sex symbol. Her life is turned upside down when she meets an English writer with a colourful past. She begins an adventure taking her to new romance and sexual experiences beyond her wildest dreams. This book takes you behind the scenes in Bollywood, giving you a taste of the colour, magic and glamour as well as the dark side of recent past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Apr 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781783337224

Book preview

Series.

Chapter One

The Party

Priya was a rising star in Bollywood, a modern Indian star who shocked the establishment by being a sex symbol in a Western sense, although she skilfully trod the tightrope between wearing provocative clothes without crossing the line of social acceptability by expressing her sexuality in a graphic way. India is, in so many ways, a conservative country and an actor’s career can hang on their reputation.

Every man in India dreamed of being with Priya. Her beautiful face with hypnotic doe eyes enough to melt hearts crowned a deliciously curvaceous figure. Her long dark hair flowed like a mountain stream cascading down her back to her waist, a waist so tiny it could have been drawn by an artist, curving out to hips still slim by any standard but in the context of such a deliciously pinched waist made her a healthy antidote to shapeless sticks favoured on the catwalk.

Her breasts were naturally large, pert and inevitably drew the gaze of men and Priya knew how to dress to emphasise her assets to the full, choosing dresses that cling perfectly to her amazing body, from her toned legs to her hips, tiny waist and revealing ample cleavage. She was in her late twenties, the height of her powers, wanted at all the coolest celebrity parties and events.

She was in a car being driven to one of those celebrity parties, the launch party after the premier of her latest film, which gave her a chance to smoulder in the role of a famed seductress training a younger woman in the art of love in order to seduce a successful older man.

It brought her more attention and cemented her reputation as one of India’s hottest sex symbols, all without any graphic sex scenes, or even the kissing seen in Hollywood blockbusters.

To her critics it was an excuse to attack her and ignore her acting completely. To her fans it was her greatest work to date. The gossip columnists and celebrity TV programmes probed for romantic links with any number of eligible men, but Priya merely gave a cheeky smile, neither confirming nor denying anything.

As the car drew up the cameras flashed and her famous legs emerged first from the car, her curvaceous body draped in a glorious red dress flowed elegantly after to the staccato clicking of cameras.

Eventually she made it to the waiting journalists near the entrance. Although the questions about the film and the attempts to get information about her private life were repetitive she played the game well, with a radiant smile and ready wit.

Every so often she would say something cheeky or controversial, playing the media to perfection. It drew them toward her and kept her in the gossip columns, in the headlines and in demand.

Once inside her intellect was wasted on the men with money who saw female stars as trinkets or decoration, so Priya stayed close to her fellow actors and only engaged in polite conversation with the money men and their trophy wives when someone introduced them.

One man stood out, partly because he wasn’t Indian at all, a suited white man talking to Yasmin and Raj Kapoor, famous actors who had starred in many of Bollywood’s most famous films, and having worked with Raj on her own second film had become good friends with Priya.

The stranger was about 40, average looking, with greying hair and what looked like a gentle demeanour. It was pure curiosity. In every other way he did not even register on her radar, but he glanced up and their eyes met.

Priya smiled, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring, but he just gave a cheeky smile back, then a wink... Cheeky so and so! she thought to herself.

As the evening wore on she eventually bumped into Yasmin Kapoor as they checked their make-up in the restroom...

Who is that man I saw talking to you and Raj earlier? Priya probed.

...Oh, the English man? Yasmin asked, Priya nodding, Damian Simmons! she laughed.

I’ve never heard of him, Priya confessed.

That man is a legend. He is a writer, director and wrote The Human Harp!

...The human harp? Priya repeated, utterly confused.

It’s the new big thing in Britain and America, a sex book that everyone is talking about. It takes the Karma Sutra to the next level!

Priya was taken aback that her old friend was speaking about sex so openly. This was normally Priya’s shock tactic for the media, not something she expected from an experienced middle aged actress.

Yasmin just gave a knowing smile and dropped another bombshell as she paused at the door. If ever you have an opportunity to read his book or learn from the man himself you cannot turn it down. You’d regret it for the rest of your life!

Priya stayed there, stunned, as another familiar face Pooja Fry walked in looking like a star struck pop fan, hyperventilating.

Are you ok? Priya asked, snapping out of her own moment of shock.

Oh My God, yes! Pooja gasped, Do you know who is out there?

Nothing would surprise me anymore this evening, Priya answered accurately.

Damian Simmons! Pooja gushed, waving her hand like a fan in front of her face. ...and he spoke to me!

...What did he say? Priya couldn’t resist asking, utterly amazed at the apparent effect this man seemed to have on otherwise rational women.

He said he’d seen my last film and loved my performance!

...and?

Damian Simmons loved my performance!

I’m pleased for you, Priya smiled politely before making her way back to the party, convinced that the World was going mad!

Still a little shocked about Yasmin’s advice she barely noticed the mystery man approach from behind, although she realised immediately who it was from his soft English accent.

Congratulations! he declared.

Why thank you, she smiled as she turned, ...but for what?

The film, he smiled, handing her a glass of champagne.

Again... Thank You! she replied with confidence.

I have admired your work for a while, he continued, and would love a chance to work with you someday.

"That would be