Mixo's Blog

Eating Cum After

2009-12-18T16:59:27Z

There’s nothing quite as erotic as eating another man’s cum off your wife’s body and from her cunt. And when the other man is a naukar, it’s sexier still.

Mala and I don’t fuck much any more: that’s all reserved for the special occasion when no one else is permitted to intrude. For the most part she fucks other men and I other women although the frequency in my case is significantly less than in hers. I think I’ve explained this before but when it’s just the two of us, we’re actually making love; when either of us is with another partner, it’s always only fucking. That might sound like a distinction without a difference, but it’s not—it’s quite fundamental really. But more of that some other time.

]]> I got home late one night last week after a long stint of travelling on work—something I’ve grown to hate more and more, incidentally—and found my wife in our bed with another man. That’s not unusual in itself; but I didn’t know him, at least not then, though I did get to know him rather better in the days that followed.

There was no doubt that he was a naukar, a domestic servant, the hired help. He wasn’t one of ours, at least not that I knew of, unless Mala had hired additional help in my absence. Not that that would have been a first either. As it turned out, he was substituting for one of our regular servants who was on leave and Mala had obviously had a part in deciding who she would accept as a sub. I had no idea of how good he was at domestic chores, but there was absolutely no doubt about his skills in the department that most interested my wife.

I guessed him to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was dark, tall and good-looking in a rough-hewn, even coarse, sort of way. His body was terrific, broad in the shoulder, narrow at the waist with high hips and taut, firm buttocks, a well cleaved chest and a hard belly. His arms and legs were rounded with long, lean muscle. His torso was smooth, the dark skin firm and taut with no visible body hair; even the armpits had been shorn clean. His cock was huge, too, at least seven inches long if not more, and correspondingly thick.

From the look of it, they’d been fucking for some time. The man’s body glistened with sweat. Rivers of it ran down his broad, dark back and splintered off his body onto hers, which also shone with perspiration. She lay naked on her back with her hips at the edge of the bed and his body was angled over hers, his body between her splayed legs, his powerful arms outstretched, his hands on the bed supporting his weight. His hips swung rhythmically up and down, his buttocks flexing and unflexing. I could see his massive cock grinding in and out of her cunt, unhurried and piercing deep.

She was loving every bit of it. Her face was radiant with a wanton lust. Her body jerked with his thrusts, every inward plunge making her roll onto the small of her back. Her full breasts, visibly swollen and turgid, bounced sexily with their movements. The nipples stood out long in areoles puckered with excitement. Her arms were bent along his, her hands clenching his thick biceps. Her legs were spread and curled around him, her heels resting on the backs of his thighs.

She moaned and whimpered, goading him to keep fucking her, to take her harder. “Oh God, yes!” she gasped. “Oh god yes oh yes oh god yes … fuck me! Fuck me hard, Ashok! Fuck me! Oh fuck yes oh god yes oh yes! God your cock’s so good in there! Chodh mujhe Ashok! Jorse chodh! Tera lund bahut accha lagta hai re mere chuth mein!” In the vernacular, the words were even more lewd, and considerably more erotic.

Her hips heaved and bucked eagerly under his. From where I stood, I could see the dark mass of his cock, glistening with their coital fluids, pistoning remorselessly in and out of her cunt. Even over their loud grunts and gasps I imagined I could hear the faint wet squelch of his cock going into her cunt.

They saw me. I was too close to them, not a few feet from their heaving bodies, for them to have missed me. They carried on, not missing a beat.

Those are the rules.

This is their time, inviolate.

I am but a part of the furniture, until they choose to bring me into their circle. Of which they had no immediate intention.

I settled down in an armchair nearby, biding my time and struggling to contain my own enormous, and almost painful, arousal. I found the sight before me inordinately erotic. Mala is at her loveliest at such times, in deep rut and being deeply pleasured by a man of her choosing. I watched as she moaned and whimpered and gasped her pleasure, her body jerking and heaving under the thrusts of the servant. His words mingled with hers, equally obscene.

“Yeh, c’mon! Take it, slut! Take my cock, you whorin’ bitch! Hanh … chul … chul, rundi, chul … le! Lele mere lavde ko! Pura le! Oh fuck yes! C’mon! That’s it! Take my cock, whore! Take it all!”

They went on and on, seemingly untiring, apparently unable to get enough of each other. He began to take her deeper and harder and faster, and her body bowed under his even and her cries grew sharper and higher. His hips snapped cruelly now with each savage downthrust that sent his cock plunging deep into her flesh. Her voice grew ragged and hoarse.

At last they slowed. I watched as the servant smiled down at her, and saw her own slavish smile in response. She curled a slender arm around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. I watched them kiss, and it was like watching lovers, with wide open mouths and lots of tongue-play. He bent his head and lapped lazily at one breast, then nibbled the nipple of the other. She moaned and arched against him.

“Had enough?” I heard him say. “Bas hua?”

“What do you think, hero?” she giggled, her eyes dancing. “You should know better than that by now! Tujhe kya lagta hai? Ab tak toh tujhe maloom hona chahiye!”

He chuckled softly. “Bitch, you’ve got a real fire in your cunt, haven’t you? Kutiya, sachhi tere chuth mein aag lagi hai na?”

“So they tell me,” she laughed softly. “Sabh wahi kehte hain. Tere toh naseeb lag gaye samaj! And that makes you the lucky one, doesn’t it?”

“Hanh, hanh! Abhi tak tere se koi shikayat nahin sooni mainne! Yeah, right … haven’t heard you complaining so far!”

I heard no protest from her at his language, and didn’t expect any. She has always loved this kind of hard-hitting, coarse banter in sex. She says it turns her on. In the early days, it surprised and even shocked me, for I’d been accustomed to thinking that women abhorred being spoken to like this, till she explained that that was merely a matter of being conditioned thinking (“brainwashing” is the word she used), and that there was no universal truth to it.

“It makes me feel wanted,” she said. “And in just the most basic, elemental way. Sexually, like a sex object. And that’s just what I am to them, these bulls and naukars who fuck me, and they’re the same to me, too. Sex objects, mutually and by mutual consent. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Indeed not.

Mala laughed and pushed at her naukar-lover. Chuckling, he rolled over onto his back, taking her astride him, kneeling over his lap. She reached for his cock and moved it between her legs and swiftly lowered her cunt onto it with a loud groan of pleasure. She smiled wantonly down at him, her dark silken hair cascading over his face. He slid his hands up to cup her big, swollen breasts. She murmured softly and bent over him, her heavy breasts flattening on his broad chest. I watched them kiss, my wife and my servant. Their mouths were wide open. Her tongue moved erotically in and out of his mouth. His big hands moved down to her buttocks and squeezed them. I saw him press his fingertip to her anus.

“Teri gaand bhi marega aaj,” he said. “Ragad-ragad ke! I’m going to fuck your ass! Gonna fuck it hard!” She moaned in excitement, moving forward and pressed one of her breasts to his mouth. He sucked on it hard, chewing on her nipple. She moaned. Her hair swept over his face. I saw him push his middle finger deeper between her buttocks. He began moving it in and out. He was finger-fucking her ass! She gasped, arching her head, her hips writhing ecstatically, her butt pushing back at his hand. He sucked harder on her breast and jammed his finger into her ass right up to his knuckle. She gripped his head to her chest and flung her face up.

“Oh fuck yes!” she moaned. “Ohhh uhh hanh, Ashok hanh!”

He slid the finger out of her butt and pressed it to her lips. She sucked his finger lasciviously.

“Put it back in,” she gasped. “Phir se andar daal!”

“Oh you whore, you whore,” he chuckled. “Saali rahnd kahin ki!”

He pushed his finger back into her anus and she moaned and raised her torso upright and thrust her chest out, flinging her head back. Her arms pressed down on her calves behind her. I saw her pushing her butt and hips down deeper.

“Oh fuck that’s so good, you motherfucker,” she gasped. “Madarchod bahut accha lagta hai re!”

The servant laughed at her obscenity. She moaned again, now running her tongue lasciviously across her upper lip. Fingers splayed, her hands slid sexily up her body to her breasts. She squeezed them hard and then rolled her palms over her nipples.

“Chodh mujhe!” she gasped. “Jorse chodh re, jorse chodh! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

Lifting one breast, she lapped at her own nipple, then the other. The naukar grunted. She flipped forward over him again, her arms outstretched, her elbows slightly bent. He pulled his finger from her anus and pushed it into her mouth. Sucking it, she began rocking heavily up and down on his cock. I watched as her cunt slid back and forth along the length of his cock.

“Oh yes … oh baby yes … hanh … ohhma uh hanh uhh ohhh uhhh ohhh uhhh OHHHHHH!” she gasped, her face turned up, her eyes closed. Her breasts and gold necklace swung over his face. “Oh fuck oh fuck yes oh god yes fuck me fuck me fuck me … chodh mujhe chodh mujhe Ashok chodh mujhe!”

His hips bucked heavily up and down beneath her. His big thick cock appeared and disappeared between the curved lobes of her buttocks. They moved faster and faster and now he began striking her buttocks with his open palm, hard. She shrieked, tossing her head back and jamming her cunt greedily down onto his cock, lifting her torso. The servant laughed at her and whipped his hand across her breasts, hard, open palm, then back of his hand. She screamed. Her face twisted in agony. Laughing loudly now, the naukar hit her breasts harder and harder with his right hand. I saw welts across her breasts. Her areoles and nipples reddened. Now he jammed the middle finger of his left hand deep into her anus. The breath shot from her throat. Her body tensed. Her fingers clawed at the sheets. Her body jerked and bucked violently on his lap.

“OH FUCK OH FUCK OHHHHH UH OH GOD YES OH YES OH GOD FUCK YES OH YES OH GOD YES YES YES OHMA UH HANH HANH HANH HANH UHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHHHHH UHH OHMA UHH HANH UH OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed.

The orgasm hit her hard. “OH uh oh uh OH uh OH uh Ohhh uhhh OHH uhh OHH uhh yes oh fuck yessss uhhhhhh OHHHHHHHH uhhh OHHHHHHH!” she gasped.

He didn’t give her time to finish. She was in mid-orgasm when he heaved her off his lap and shoved her roughly onto her front. They were in a three-quarters profile to me, their bodies angled away from where I sat. Their loins were less than an arm’s length from mine. I could smell them: their sweat, his cum, her cunt-juices. The air reeked of their animal muskiness.

I looked at her reflection in the mirror at the foot of the bed. She was on her forearms and knees, her arms angled slightly inward, clenching the edge of the bed, gasping and panting heavily. Her mouth was open, her nostrils flared.

“Fuck me,” she moaned drunkenly. Her speech was slurred. Her voice was ragged and hoarse. “C’mon Ashok … fuck me! Chodh mujhe Ashok!

Kneeling behind her, the naukar turned and sneered down at me. “Suna? Sunh, sunh … teri is rundi-biwi ki zubaan sunh! Listen to your whore-wife! Listen to her beg for my cock! Sunh kaise mere lund ke liye taras rahi hai! Kaise bhik maag rahi hai!”

He splayed her buttocks open with the fingers of one hand and moved his cock between the twin globes. She tensed. He grinned.

“Yaaaaaa lele rundi le mere lund ko!” With a loud cry, throwing his head back, he rammed his cock deep into my wife’s cunt. “Take my cock!”

“OHMAUHOHGODUHHOHHHHHHHHHHHHH uhhh OHHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed, her head snapping up, her face, in the mirror, contorting as the huge mass of his cock drove into her like a cattle prod.

He buried himself deep inside her, paused briefly to adjust his position, gripped her hips and, without warning, began ram-fucking furiously. His hips rocketed back and forth. His thighs slammed against her buttocks. I could hear the loud slapping of flesh on flesh. She fell forward, her shoulders on the bed now, her arms bent, fingers desperately clinging onto the edge of the bed. Her body jerked savagely back and forth under his. He began slapping the sides of her buttocks now, hitting them hard. I saw his fingers leave angry red welts on her flesh.

“Ya! Le! Le rundi le! Le mere lund ko! Take it! Take it, whore! Take my cock!” he bellowed, striking her again and again without respite. “Is … rahnd … ko … aise-heech … jorse … ragad-ke … chodhna … padta … hai … saali … kutiya … ye-heech … chahti hai … this … whore … needs … to … be … fucked … hard … just … like … this … the … bitch … wants … it … hard!” he gasped.

He twisted his hand in her hair and jerked her head back up, rocking her body back against his as he drove in and out of her faster and harder. Her swollen breasts swung heavily, bouncing back and forth. I could even hear them slapping together. Her gold necklace hung free, tossing with their motions.

“Oh fuck oh fuck yes oh god yes yes oh god yes c’mon fuck me … fuck me … fuck my cunt you fucker oh you fuck yes oh fuck yes … chodh mujhe hanh chul saale bhadve chodh mujhe aur jor se … harder!” she shrieked.

The servant grinned at me. “Ab dekh. Dekh mein kaise teri is rundi biwi ki gaand marta hoon! Now watch … watch me fuck your whore-wife up the ass!” He slid his cock out of her. “Abbé chul, rahnd. Gaand khol mere liye! C’mon, whore! Open your ass for me!”

Gasping and moaning, she obeyed like a real slut. I watched as she bent further forward, her shoulders on the bed, her face turned on one side—facing me, of course—and, stretching her arms behind her, pulled her buttocks open for the naukar. He laughed softly, both at her and at me.

The servant licked four fingers of one head and smeared them on my wife’s anus. It was utterly obscene, and incredibly erotic.

I watched in horrified, intensely aroused fascination as he pressed his huge, bulging cock-head between her buttocks. He prised them apart with his thumbs, holding her firmly, and flexed his buttocks. His cock slid forward. She cried out, her head snapping back and mouth tearing open. The naukar grunted; his cock was still not fully inside her ass; just the cock-head. He looked at me and his lip curled in a sneer. I saw him crease her buttocks further apart. I could now see his cock plugging her ass, stretching the puckered flesh. Beneath him, she sobbed softly, her buttocks writhing. She twisted an arm behind her and pressed her hand to his hard belly.

“Yes!” I heard her gasp softly. “Oh god yes … Do it … fuck me … fuck my ass … c’mon you … fucker … fuck my ass … chodh mere gaand ko!”

Still looking at me, still sneering, and with calculated slowness, the naukar crushed his cock into my wife’s ass. I saw it drill deeper and deeper inward, disappearing inexorably between her buttocks into her flesh. Beneath him, she went frantic, thrashing wildly, her arms slapping feverishly on the bed, clutching the sheet, her cries getting louder and higher.

“Oh god oh god oh god yes oh god yes oh yes oh yes oh god you mother … fucker … madar *… *chod hanh … chodh … chodh mujhe … maar meri gaand … hanh uhhhh hanh uhhh hanh uhhh OHHHHHHH!” Deeper still he went till finally his cock was buried fully in her ass, his balls jammed against her cunt-lips. With excruciating slowness, he began the backward slide, drawing his cock out. She cried out again and now her buttocks and hips rose higher, in unfaked eagerness.

“Phir se!” she gasped. “Phir se ghoosa de tera lund mere gaand mein! Again! Shove your cock into my ass again! OHHHHHuhOHMA uhhh OHHHHH!”

I watched, mesmerized, as the servant sodomized my wife slowly and deeply and thoroughly. He didn’t rush it. He savoured every minute of it.

And he never took his eyes off me. I saw the cruel condescension in his eyes at my stricken look. He knew I couldn’t bear not to look, to turn away, to leave.

He hit a rhythm now, a slow, measured in-and-out, pushing his cock deeply in with each thrust, drawing out, then sliding in again. She moved with him, panting and whimpering and moaning her lust, her buttocks trembling and hips swaying eagerly. I saw her thrust a hand down between her legs and bend a slender finger up into her cunt. Her cries grew and now he grunted thickly, calling her a whore.

“Hanh … chul, rundi, chul … le! Le mere lavde ko! Yeh! Take it, whore! Take my cock! Bol … jorse bol tu kitna chahti hain mere se gaand marvana … jorse bol … tere hijde marad ko sun-ne de! Bol, kutiya, bol! Speak up, bitch! Let your wimp husband hear how much you like being fucked in the ass by me!”

Of course she obeyed. She wouldn’t refuse him anything, not in the state she was in. She flipped her head, facing me now.

“Dekh … dekh,” she said to me. “Dekh tera naukar kaise meri gaand maar raha hai … bahut accha lagta hai … uska lavda … meri gaand mein! Look … see how your servant’s fucking me up the ass … god … it feels good … his cock … in my ass …”

He was moving faster now, and her cries, which had dwindled to guttural moans, now rose again, higher and louder till, as he rocked steeply in and out of her, she was shrieking her lust. His thighs bounced off her buttocks. His cock pounded in and out of her ass. Her finger plunged up into her cunt, running rapidly in and out. I could see her cunt-juices flowing down her finger onto her palm.

The naukar flung his head back and cried out, growling like a beast. He slammed down into her hard once, twice, three times and then jerked his cock out of her ass and lurched to his feet, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her up with him. She winced and cried out but turned with him. He held her hair and jerked it forward into his crotch.

“Abbé saali rundi! Choos!” he shouted. “Jorse choos saali rahnd kahin ki! C’mon you whore … bitch … suck it! Suck my cock! Ahhhh uhh hanh uhh … jorse chutiya rahnd … jorse choos … harder, cunt! Suck harder!” Holding her head in both hands, he fucked her mouth savagely, rocking her head back and forth between his legs, pumping his hips to and fro. I could see his cock distending her mouth. She took it all, sucking feverishly. Her eyes were glassy.

He flung his head back and growled and began to groan loudly. It sounded like an animal in the wild. He shoved her head back and held her mouth open with one hand and jerked his cock with the other.

“Le!” he gasped. “Moonh mein le! Take it! Take it in your mouth!”

His load was huge. The cum shot from his cock-head and spurted in a seemingly endless stream. I watched, dazed. It seemed to be happening in slow motion. I could see his face, the ecstasy on it; his throbbing cock erupting; the jets of cum spurting out in sticky white arcs; his cum spattering her eyelids, her hair, her cheeks, flooding her mouth, dribbling down her chin, splashing between her breasts and on her nipples, on her arms and in her hands and on her naked shoulders.

The torrent ended at last. He grinned down at her. She smiled slavishly up at him and opened her mouth wide and showed him the flood of cum in it. Her tongue slid out with cum on it, and then she pulled it back in and I saw her swallow it and lick her lips. He laughed softly and scooped his cum from her cheek and pushed it between her lips. She sucked it lovingly. He smeared his cum across her face and neck and breasts, under her arms, and pushed his first two fingers back into her mouth. She sucked them clean. Moaning softly, she took his cock in her mouth again, sucking him gently till his erection died.

The naukar turned and stepped off the bed. He clapped me on the shoulder, chuckling.

“Your wife’s a whore, man,” he said. “Teri biwi rahnd hai, rahnd.”

She looked adoringly after him and then turned to me.

“Come,” she said. “Clean me. With your tongue.”

My legs trembled as I got up and moved up onto the bed on my knees. She held my face and kissed me, pushing her tongue into my mouth.

“Taste him,” she breathed into my mouth. “Taste your servant’s cum.”

She broke the kiss and rose on her knees, pushing her cum-sticky breasts to my lips. I licked and sucked on one mound. I could taste the naukar’s seed on her skin, and her sweat and his. She moaned softly and moved my head to the other breast. Slowly, she went down on her back, spreading her legs wide.

“Lick it all up,” she moaned. “All of it. From everywhere …”

Behind me, I heard the naukar snort with laughter, and there was unmistakable derision in it. She pushed my head down her body. I parted her cunt-lips and moved closer. Her cunt smelled rich — of her cunt-juices and his cum.

“Lick it!” she snapped, bending her head. “Lick my pussy clean, chutiya! Chaat mere chuth ko! Saaf kar!”

The naukar was back on the bed now. Lifting my eyes, I saw him kissing my wife. Her mouth was wide open. His tongue slid deep into her mouth. His hand was on her breast, fondling her nipple which had stiffened again. He saw me and put his hand on my head and shoved it into her crotch.

“Abbé gaandu, suna nahin kya? Chaat usko, bhadve! Asshole! Didn’t you hear what she said? Lick her cunt, pimp!” He grinned. “Yeah. Gonna fuck your whore-wife again. More cum for you to lick up! Phir se chodhega main tere is rundi-biwi ko! Aur tu phir se mere beej ko chaat le! What else can you do, wimp? Tu aur kar bhi kya sakta hai, hijde?”

He was on his knees now and, as I watched, he straddled her face on his knees, facing me, and pushed his dark cock back into her mouth. I heard her loud muffled moan as she started sucking his cock again. Under my face, her hips began to writhe and buck slowly. I slid my tongue deeper into her pussy. My nostrils filled with the smell of her cunt and his cum. I could taste it again, strong and meaty, very distinctly his, the naukar’s cum.

Back to (ab)normal, and loving it

2009-11-07T11:29:35Z

Sonu’s back! It’s been so long. Mala and Sonu’s elder cousin, Ravi, has been very unwell for several weeks. He was their guardian when their parents died, brought them up — and was an early lover to both. For their sake, he never married, never had a family. He’s had a lady friend for many years now, and they’re happy together. The girls are, quite naturally, very fond of him, but their relationship is different now. Neither sleeps with him, though they often speak openly about it, even to Nishi, his friend. She knows of their history and it doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s very close to both Mala and Sonu, perhaps Sonu a bit more. The girls tease and bully him mercilessly and he’s putty in their hands, but apparently happy to be so.

]]> A couple of months ago, he took very ill. We all rushed across of course — they stay across town — and had him moved to a hospital. Sonu and Mala have been taking turns going back and forth, one or the other of them staying over, relieving Nishi and running relays. It’s been a hell of a strain.

In all that time, quite astonishingly, neither of the girls had any serious fucking. Of course, they’re both far too addicted to it to go totally without, but I know for a fact that it was very irregular and, by their standards, so infrequent as perhaps not to count at all, hardly a couple of times a week and even then, only for a very short 15 or 20 minutes, often less. More a required release than anything else. And it never had the exhilaration and enthusiasm and sheer revelling in sexual pleasure we’re used to. They were both tired and tense and their heart wasn’t in it.

And then, just when things seemed on the mend, Ravi back home and recovering nicely, Sonu slipped in the bathroom and sprained her ankle and hurt her back and left hip. At first we thought she’d fractured the hip, but after a whole battery of tests, found it was just very badly bruised. Her back gave her a lot of trouble though, and we were all very tense wondering if she’d gone and done herself a serious injury. Luckily, that, too, turned out to be just a bad sprain.

Ravi finall got back home, almost fully recovered (the white-coats never did figure out what went wrong), Sonu’s ankle, hip and back mended, and we finally had the chance to unwind and spend time together. Everything came back on track just in time for Dassera and Diwali.

Sonu and I were itching to get together, just the two of us. It had been much too long. She pestered me to give her an evening. I battled the temptation and said no. She had to look to her own first. Her husband, Hitesh, hadn’t fucked her either, and he had first refusal. Then her servants. Then me.

Finally, she made it. We were just the two of us at my place. Mala and Lajja had got themselves booked in for the weekend at the escort agency, servicing clients with a couple of live shows thrown in, including at least one gang-bang and one lesbian spot. Lajja’s husband, Bharat, was in attendance, and a couple of my own crew. I’d see the DVDs later.

I swept Sonu up in my arms as soon as she stepped her. I held her close.

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” I groaned into her hair.

“I’ve missed you too, love,” she smiled.

For a minute, we stood there, just holding each other, her face resting on my chest. I caressed her back.

“I want you,” I whispered, unable to keep the urgency out of my house.

“Easy, tiger,” she laughed softly. “We have the entire evening to ourselves. And the night, too, if you want.”

She had a closet to herself here, I knew that. She could easily stay the night without needing to bring a change of clothes or any of her cosmetics or toiletries. One of the four bedrooms was hers anyway.

I pressed my groin against her. My cock was already hard. Her warm brown eyes danced in pleasure. She kissed me gently, cupping the side of my face with one hand, the other slipping down to my crotch. “I love you like this,” she breathed into my mouth. “I love you anway, but especially like this.”

She stepped away and took my hand in hers and led me out of the house, through the large sliding glass doors at the end of the passage onto the broad patio that leads out onto our penthouse terrace garden. The servants had set out a flask of chilled home-made lemonade and canapes. We sat at the white wrought-iron table in a comfortable silence, sipping our drinks and nibbling the delicious finger-food. Sonu reached out and took my hand in hers, caressing my fingers gently with hers. Our chairs were very close. She leaned her head on my shoulder. I turned my face and she lifted hers, and we kissed, gently and deeply, our tongues slowly slipping in and out of each other’s mouths. I stretched my arm across her body and cupped her breast. It was already heavy and warm. I could feel the hardness of her nipple.

“Come,” she said softly. “Let’s go in.”

We went into the bedroom we kept for her. The large windows were open; the sheers fluttered in the silver light of the waning moon. The room was lit by a single lamp on the writing desk in the corner.

We kissed again, and her body melted into mine. It felt good holding her close. Her lips were soft and moist. Her tongue swept gently into my mouth, met my own. She wore a light, diaphanous kurta and loose baggy salvar. I could feel her breasts through her kurta, pressing against my chest.

She broke the kiss and began unbuttoning my shirt, peppering my torso with butterfly kisses and sexy little sweeps of her tongue over my nipples. It felt incredibly sexy. As she moved lower, I took the end of her kurta and drew it up. She lifted her arms as she went lower and slipped out of her kurta. She wore a bra underneath, of sexy white lace, cut very low and very thin, like a string bikini top. Her beautiful breasts strained at the slight material. I tugged at the drawcord of her salvar; it rustled to her feet and she nudged it aside. She wore a sexy G-string, the rear stand tucked hard between her buttocks, the front just a very narrow band wedged between her cunt-lips. Her cunt was shaven smooth. I groaned in excitement.

Now she was on her knees, gently undoing my trousers and pulling them down. My cock was out, hardening rapidly. She murmured softly, kissing it, jerking it in her hand. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was entranced by the sight of her slender fingers, her wedding band glinting, curled around the dark mass of my cock. She flipped back my foreskin deftly and, with a soft whimper, opened her mouth and swept her tongue over my cock-head. I gasped. She did it again, and again and then slowly took my cock in her mouth and began to suck it.

There was no doubt that she loved doing this. Her pleasure and enjoyment were evident. She murmured and moaned, rocking her head back and forth, taking my cock deep in her mouth so that her cheeks distended with its size. Ducking her head, she ran her tongue down my cock-shaft to my balls and licked and suckled them. She lifted her head again, now caressing her face with my cock; then rose higher and pushed my cock up under her bra between her breasts, squeezing them tightly over it, bending her head to lick the protruding cock-head.

Several minutes of cock-sucking later, she moved me to the bed on my back and knelt beside me and continued sucking my cock. I moaned softly. The heat in my groin was unbearable. I caressed her face and fondled her breasts, pushing my hand into her bra. Her breasts were heavy and swollen, the nipples hard. She pushed the bra cups down, freeing them, groaning when I squeezed them hard. I slid my hand down her smooth back and bent a finger up into her cunt, moving the G-string strand aside. Her cunt was very wet. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the magic of my sister-in-law’s mouth on my cock. There was true cunning in her tongue. I groaned as she worked my cock-head with it, as if trying to pierce the slit in my cock to draw out my cum. Her face was soft between my thighs. Her hair cascaded over my belly. Her gold necklace brushed across my thighs. I felt her jerking my cock, kissing it, running her teeth down it.

“Cum in my mouth,” she murmured. “I want your cum in my mouth.”

“Later,” I grunted. “After I fuck your ass.”

I pulled her away from my cock and up and we lay together, kissing gently and deeply, caressing each other. Her fingers were in my crotch, working my cock. I fondled her breasts and cunt. Her mouth was soft and warm. I swept my tongue across her lips and into her mouth. She responded by sucking on my tongue and meeting it with her own. The kiss deepened. I turned her on her back and moved over her.

“God, I want you,” she gasped. “I want you so much it hurts!”

I smiled. She looked lovely. Her warm brown eyes shone with desire. Her sweetly rounded face was radiant, her moist rosebud lips parted. I kissed her again, then broke it slowly and, moving down, dragged my tongue down the column of her throat, swept it around one breast, climbed the mound and then whirled it across her puckered areole and stiff, hard nipple. She gasped and arched her back. I pinched the other nipple in my forefinger and thumb and gently twirled it back and forth. She cried out, writhing in a sudden frenzy, her fingers clawing at me.

I turned my attention to her other breast; returned to the first; squeezed both together and sucked on both nipples simultaneously. She cried out, her back arching and falling feverishly under me. I sucked sharply, let go, sucked again.

“C’mon! Fuck me! Fuck me Mehul fuck me please fuck me!” she gasped.

I chuckled. I love Sonu in every mood but most especially when she is like this. I slid lower. Her legs opened instantly. Her cunt-juices had wet the slender strand of her G-string. It was now wedged tightly into her cunt. I pulled it out and pushed it aside. Her shaven pussy was gorgeous: her swollen cunt-lips glistened with her cunt-juice; her clitoris was inflamed. I spread her cunt-lips with my fingers and rippled my tongue into her crack, nibbling tenderly on her clitoris.

“AHHHHHHHuhhOHMA uhhh AHHHHHH!” she gasped, arching steeply, crushing her breasts in her hands. “Oh god oh god oh god yes!”

I pushed my tongue in deeper. Her cunt tasted delicious, musky and erotic. I lapped at her streaming juices. Her body heaved and writhed. I lifted my eyes and saw her face turning helplessly from side to side. Her fingers twined in my hair, pinning my face in her crotch. Her hips bucked eagerly. I whipped her clit rapidly with my tongue and then, drawing it between my lips and nibbling on it again, slid two fingers into her cunt.

Her back bowed in a steep arch. Her neck craned. Her head whipped back. Her mouth tore open, and she screamed her pleasure. Her thighs flapped frantically, her knees tilting in as her hips rose, then arching outward. I finger-fucked her furiously and now began biting down more firmly on her clit. Her hands worked her breasts in a frenzy. Her body jerked back and forth on the bed as though she was being fucked properly.

I sensed her nearing an orgasm and I slowed, sliding my fingers out of her and now teasing her cunt-lips gently. She moaned softly, caressing my head.

“Delicious,” I murmured. “Remember the first time we did this?”

Gasping, she bent her head and looked down at me between her bent knees. She smiled. “I could hardly forget,” she gasped. “How did you know I so loved being tongue-fucked?”

I chuckled. “I’d seen you, remember? With the naukar. What was his name?”

“Ramu. He was the first.”

“Yeah. Ramu, right. I’d seen him fucking you. Mala and I had two holes in your door. I’d fuck her from behind and we’d both watch you.”

Sonu giggled. “Don’t tell me you think I didn’t know!”

I looked up at her. “What? You knew?”

“Of course I did, silly! So did Ramu! We used to watch you and Mal, too, you know!”

I laughed in delight. “I deserved that,” I guess. “But it was a great afternoon, that, wasn’t it?”

“Beautiful,” she murmured, smiling. “I can still remember it … me coming home … finding you there outside the closed door … asking where Mala was … you telling me she was inside … and then hearing her voice … and Ramu’s—”

“And then you looked at me and I looked at you and we both knew what we wanted!”

“Remember their faces when they came out and saw us at it? You fucking me from behind—”

“Facing the door, in fact—”

“And we didn’t stop, just kept going … it was beautiful!”

“And we haven’t stopped since, either,” I murmured. “You were twenty, I was seventeen … you realize we’ve been fucking for over two decades?”

“I’m amazed you still want me,” she murmured.

“More than ever, my love,” I said. “More than ever. And here’s why …”

I pushed my head into her crotch again, slamming three fingers back into her and tongue- and finger-fucking savagely without prior warning. The breath shot from her throat and she thrashed frantically on the bed, clawing at me, clawing at the sheets, screaming my name. Just as she teetered on the very edge of a wild orgasm, I stopped, moved quickly over her and, before she had time to react, squeezed my cock deep into her cunt and pushed my fingers, sticky with her cunt-juices, between her lips.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHH uhhh AHHHH UH YES OH GOD YES YES YES Mehul YES!” my beloved sister-in-law cried, her face tilting up, her back arching. “Oh god oh god Mehul you’re so big oh god yes!”

I thrust in deeper and deeper till my crotch was jammed to hers, my cock embedded fully in her cunt. Her legs were curled around mine, her heels on the backs of my thighs. She moaned and panted beneath me, her fingers digging into my forearms. I dipped my torso to kiss and felt the muscles popping and crackling in my shoulders and upper back.

“Fuck me,” she gasped into my mouth. “Fuck me hard!”

I bent my head to her breasts. Her gold necklace twinkled on her creamy skin.

“Whore,” I said softly, lapping at her nipple.

“Yes!” she shuddered. “Oh god yes!”

“You’re a whore,” I whispered, sweeping my tongue between her lips.

“Yes,” she moaned, aroused by my words as I knew she would be. “Yes, I am … your whore … your rundi … your rahnd … to fuck as you like … as much as you like … as hard as you like …”

I fucked her relentlessly then, taking her again and again, fucking her cunt, her mouth, her cunt again, her tits, her ass. Lying on my back, I pulled her astride me. She took my cock in her hand, lifted her cunt over it, took a deep breath and, with a loud cry, throwing her head back, jammed her cunt down onto my cock. Feverish now, she bucked and rocked back and forth over me, her swollen breasts bouncing, her necklace swinging. I slapped her breasts hard with the back of my hand, making her scream. I yanked her down and bit down on her nipples. She screamed again. I bucked my hips up savagely under her, thrusting deep into her and she arched, leaning back with her hands behind her, the tips of her fingers on the bed, her chest thrust out. Her breasts bounced heavily. I crushed them in my hands.

We slowed gradually as she climbed down from another orgasm, her third or fourth since we began. She was sweating now, and so was I. I kept moving under her. She murmured softly, her face tilted up, her eyes closed. Her lips were parted. Her tongue arched sexily over her upper lip. Her hands slid up her body to her breasts, lifting and squeezing them.

“Mm … ohh that’s good, Mehul … your cock’s so good in my cunt … ahhhh uhhh yes … oh baby yes!” She bent her head and lifted one breast, lapping at her own nipple.

I fucked her from behind, kneeling behind her. She bent forward on her forearms and knees, her arms angled together and hands clasped. She turned her face over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. Her expression said it all. I groaned: her cunt was tight and wet and hot. I could feel it convulsing eagerly on my throbbing cock. I held her shoulders and began fucking her steadily, rocking her body back and forth before me. She moaned loudly. In the full-length mirror in front of us I saw our reflection, her face a mask of lust, her brown eyes glistening, her swollen breasts bouncing and slapping together as I went faster and faster.

Slowly, she bent forward and I understood what she wanted. I slid out of her cunt and squeezed my cock deep into her ass. She cried out, her voice ragged and hoarse now, her face turned on its side contorting in agonized pleasure as I went in deeper and deeper, squatting over her raised hips with my head flung back. I could barely contain the roiling fires in my loins. She thrust a hand between her legs and began masturbating. I paused, reached to the bedside table and pulled out a thick vibrator, eight inches long and gave it to her. Moaning, she stretched an arm between her legs and pushed the vibrator into her cunt as I slid smoothly in and out of her anus. She turned on the vibrator and it hummed loudly and she began gasping and panting and crying out feverishly, her hips rocking and jerking out of control beneath me. She came violently. I could hardly control myself. I lurched out of her and staggered upright on the bed. Whimpering, she turned to face me, the vibrator still in her cunt and, bucking up and down on it, gasping and moaning, took my cock deep in her mouth, jerking it hard. I cried out, holding her head and moving it hungrily back and forth in front of me. The heat erupted from my cock at last. Sonu moaned, opening her mouth wide, jerking my cock. The cum spewed from my cock and flooded her mouth and spattered her face and eyelids and hair and breasts, dribbled down her cheeks. Groaning, she took my cock in her mouth again, swallowing my cum and licking my cock clean.

Bending, I bent and kissed her. Her tongue pushed my own cum into my mouth. I could feel it come off her breasts onto my chest. Our sticky, sweating bodies slithered together.

“Hungry kya?” I chuckled, kissing her.

“Not for food,” she giggled, pushing me on my back and sucking my cock again. It was not yet entirely limp. “But yes. For more cock. For more fucking.”

I mock groaned. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m a whore, remember?” she mumbled. “I’m supposed to be insatiable.”

“Come,” I said, moving away.

“Where are you going?” “Outside,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “Out onto the terrace. I want to fuck you in the open. In the pool.”

And my beloved sister-in-law smiled radiantly and took my hand in hers and let me lead her out into the night.

Labour of Love

2009-09-26T17:00:50Z

At last it’s done, my labour of love and work of lust. The revamp of the C&B site is complete. There’s lots of new stuff here, and a wholly new way of seeing things.

]]> It’s been very, very hard work. The site runs on the latest release of Movable Type (version 4.31), with lots of plugins. The entire site is custom-designed by hand. The hard work has been splitting the templates into modular components for speed and efficiency. It took a lot of messing around, but got down and I learned many new things along the way.

The design itself is one of which I’m particularly proud. It’s a huge improvement on the earlier one which was very basic, even bare. This one is altogether more lush, with arresting colours, graphics and design element placements. At the same time, it’s turned out to be superbly functional (thanks to the modules), so things are just very easy to find and always quickly at hand.

The great new additions, of course, are the incredibly easy ways to contribute fiction and, best of all, the dedicated blog for my beloved sister-in-law, Sonu. I haven’t the slightest doubt that her blog is going to be extremely popular.

Time now to move on with added content. I’ve put this makeover off for much too long, but now it’s done and I really have no excuse for not finishing all those stories, half-begun and pushed aside.

This blog

2009-04-05T09:01:43Z

This blog languishes. The trouble is I keep wanting to write “full” posts, stories or narratives that are complete. That’s not what a blog should be. A longer piece once in a way is fine, but it should also be a repository for nuggets, thoughts, smaller notes. My word-processing template setup typifies the conflict: I have one template for a journal, another for the blog. How are the two different, especially given that there’s a wholly independent section for the stories?

Sonu with her husband's servant

2007-11-25T05:45:21Z

Hitesh has been travelling again, so I’m on a sort of honeymoon with the naukars. I really indulge myself—even more than usual—at times like these. I thoroughly enjoy playing/acting the naukars’ “kept woman”, too. Last night, I had one of Hitesh’s office peons, Vijay, stay over and spend the night. He’s lean and tough and has a marvellous cock. He can fuck very rough when I’m in the mood, and I was in just that mood last night, starving to be fucked nice and hard and for a good long time. Vijay delivered, of course—he was in total control and thoroughly dominated me, enjoying himself as he did it.

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Vijay

I sent Vinod and Ashok away to my sister, Mala’s, as I wanted no interruptions. I was in a real state by the time Vijay arrived—I’d been fantasizing about him all day, had kept myself away from the other naukars and I’d fuelled my lust fires with little things: I used my lovely Ben-Wa ball set (a gift from Mehul) — two one-and-a-half inch diameter weighted orbs connected with a string that I fed into my cunt, each with its own little rolling ball inside. Every time I squeezed my vaginal muscles they pressed against my clit. I walked with my thighs pressed together, and every step I took made them move against my clit. It was slow, prolonged, deeply intense and incredibly heightening. Just before he came in, I started a triple-X-rated hardcore interracial porn flick. I was dressed in a completely transparent white saree with no underwear, but wearing my gold necklace, mangalsutra, bindi, sindoor, earrings, bangles, wedding ring and anklets on my feet.

It was just after eight when Vijay rang the doorbell; I looked through the door peephole to make sure it was him, slipped the Ben-Wa balls out and, standing behind the door, let him slide in and quickly shut and locked it behind him. He saw me and burst out laughing. He could see the state I was in. I flung my around his neck and pressed against him, trying to kiss him and simultaneously begging him to fuck me, telling him my cunt was on fire. He slid his hands under my sari and I moaned into his mouth when I felt his big, rough, hard hands on my breasts. My nipples were hard as nails in his fingers. He pinched them and I gasped and kissed him fiercely, sucking his tongue into my mouth.

“Vijay,” I gasped, “chodh mujhe! Jaldi se … jor se!”

“Ahiste, rahnd,” he laughed softly.

He pulled my arms away from his neck, jerked them up around his neck and pushed me back against the corridor wall and pressed his body against mine.

“Chudhvayegi kya, mere se?” he growled, his tongue in my ear and then over my lips. “Mere se chudhvayegi apne aap ko?”

“Hanh Vijay hanh!” I moaned.

He released me and walked away into the hall, peeling off his shirt. He flung himself onto the deep sofa and sprawled on it, his arms thrown out along the back. He turned his face to me and beckoned with his finger.

“Eh, rundi, idhar aa,” he commanded.

I went across. I noticed he’d undone his fly and wasn’t wearing undershorts. His big cock was still in his trousers; I could see the thick shaft. He grinned when he saw where my eyes were. He reached up and put his hand behind my head and pulled it steeply down to his crotch. I moaned, nuzzling his groin, pulling his cock out. He squeezed my breast hard in his hand.

“Le! Choos mere lavde ko!” he ordered.

Groaning with excitement, I took it in my mouth, flipping back the foreskin and sweeping my tongue over the thick cock-head. I loved the feeling, being treated like a wench like this. He pulled my sari up over my hips and slapped my buttocks sharply. I gasped and moaned. He struck me again, and again. My butt tingled with his blows and I felt my cunt getting even wetter.

“Bas,” he said, pushing my head back. “Ab ja, aur mere liye drink bana.”

I lifted my head. His cock was upright, temptation personified. He scowled at me. “Ja bola na? Chul, jaldi kar, rahnd!”

I wiped his pre-cum slime from my lips with the back of my hand and obediently went to fix his drink. I know what he likes: a large rum with lots of lime, ice and soda. I fixed the drink and brought it back to him, properly, on a tray, with extra ice, soda, lime juice and slices and the rum bottle. I put it down on the side table at his elbow and gave him the drink, just like a naukrani would. He grinned and spread his legs again.

“Ab chul. Vapis choos. Yahan, saamne aa ke.”

This time he let me kneel between his legs to suck his cock. With the back of his hand, he brushed the pallu of my sari off my shoulder, exposing my breasts. He caressed my face as I took his cock in my mouth and began sucking it heavily and slowly, labouring over it. The musky taste and smell of it made my head swim with lust. I loved its heat and thickness in my mouth. I cupped and squeezed his balls gently, then dropped my head, dragging my tongue down his cock-shaft to suck and lick the heavy orbs. He grunted.

I reached across him and fumbled in the tray for some ice and popped a cube in my mouth and quickly took his cock deep into my mouth again. He gasped sharply. I ran the ice cube around his cock head, melting it against his hot, hard cock flesh.

“Hanh … rundi hanh … aise hi choosti reh!” he grunted.

Over my shoulder, he was watching the porn flick. He raised the sound a bit, and the sharp gasping moans of the woman filled the room. It added to my arousal.

Vijay made me slave over his cock for a long time. Soon, my fingers and lips and cheeks were slippery with his pre-cum jizz. I licked it lovingly, savouring the taste. I ran the cock-head over my nipples and pressed it between my breasts.

I was completely on fire now. All the cock-sucking, Vijay’s nonchalant attitude, his rough hands on my head and face and breasts, occasionally leaning over to whack me on my bottom, making me gasp and moan.

“Bas,” he announced at last. “Ab chul … mere lund pe chadh ja. Naach mere lavde pe!”

Whimpering gratefully, I rose, my sari sliding to the floor. He kicked his pants aside. I straddled his hips and leaned over him and kissed him hungrily. His hands moved from my aching breasts to my waist. He held me aloft while I moved his cock-head to my cunt. Slowly, I sank my hips. His cock-head burst into my cunt. I gasped, flinging my head back. My cunt began tightening involuntarily on his cock-head. He held me still, with just his cock-head inside me.

“Ahiste … ahiste … ab kamar gol gol ghooma … ahiste … hanh … aise … hanh … aise, rundi, aise!”

It was utterly incredible! I obeyed, of course, swirling my hips in circles so that his cock-head moved around in my cunt. The feeling was quite extraordinarily intense. I gasped and moaned, flinging my head back, biting my lip, throwing out my chest, my arms stretched out and hands on the back of the sofa behind his shoulders.

“Ab neeche aa … ahiste … lele mere lavde ko tere chuth mein … hanh … hanh rundi hanh … aise … ahhhhhhhhhh uhh hanh uhhh ahhhhh bahut khub rahnd, bahut khub … ab chul, tere chuth ko jor se dabaa mere lavde pe … hanh! OhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhAHHH hanh … ab chhod de … vapas dabaa … hanh uhh hanh … ab aage-peeche ragad … jorse rahnd! Hanh uhh hanh uhh hanh uhhh aise … chul … ab naach rahnd naach mere lavde pe!”

Picture it: the peon pulling me slowly deeper and deeper onto his massive cock, impaling me on it … then making me squeeze down on it with my cunt … release … squeeze … then grind my hips heavily back and forth, back and forth … and then, at last, allowing me to move, rocking up and down on his cock, sliding my cunt up the length of the shaft, then quickly jamming myself down on it … again and again.

I was beside myself with lust. I clung to his shoulders, flung my head back and howled my pleasure, my voice sounding strangely hoarse and guttural, my chest thrust out.

“OHHHHH UHH OHMA UH HANH UHHH OH GOD OH GOD VIJAY VIJAY VIJAY UHHH HANH UHHH HANH UHHH OHMAUHHOHMA UHH OHMA UHHH HANH CHODH MUJHE VIJAY CHODH MUJHE!”

My breasts jumped and bounced as I moved, my mangalsutra and gold necklace dancing and slapping on my skin. My breasts felt heavy and swollen to the point of bursting. My nipples were hard as little rocks. My cunt was on fire, in helpless spasms and convulsions on his cock. He rocked his hips up and down under me. His cock went in deep, piercing me.

Faster. He held my hips and began moving me, jerking my body violently up and down and leaned forward and sucked hard on one breast. I cried out again. He leaned back, released my hips and began to strike my breasts with the back of his hand. I gasped and moaned, each blow sending an electric current straight down into my cunt.

The peon fucked me for what seemed like forever, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

click to view

Vijay

A montage: he moves forward and carefully lays me down on my back on the large low square coffee table in front of the sofa. Kneeling on the floor, he fucks me unhurriedly, his hands squeezing my breasts, his hips rocking smoothly to and fro, his cock pistoning in and out of my cunt. On the table, I moan and whimper, my head flipping from side to side, begging him to fuck me like a whore.

On my front on the coffee table, Vijay kneeling behind me and making me do all the work, rocking myself eagerly back and forth, squirming my butt in his crotch, begging him again and again like a slut till, finally, chuckling, he takes over and begins to fuck me. He fucks me hard, holding my waist and whipping his hips back and forth and my cries are broken sobs and moans.

He is still not done with me. He releases me and walks away to the master bedroom with his drink, commands me to follow. Inside, he stands with his feet apart and makes me suck his cock again while he finishes his drink, one hand on my head, almost absently moving it back and forth. I have long since ceased to be a memsahib; I am now, quite simply, his slut, his whore, his rundi, his sex slave, unable to deny him anything he desires.

He stops me, makes me get on the bed on all fours facing the full length mirror and, standing at the edge of the bed, fucks me again from behind, his forearms crossed, hands on my buttocks, rocking my body back and forth before him while his hips grind to and fro. He begins to slap my butt again and his timing is perfect. I have yet another orgasm; I’ve had two already, but this one is also intense and overpowering.

Still he wants more. Lying on his back on the bed, he makes me mount him again, this time with my back to him, my feet on the bed and arms stretched out behind me. I groan tiredly, rocking heavily up and down, crying out as he thrusts up hard into me from underneath. My head is clouded and my senses are now numbed by the incessant pleasuring. I drown in the lust and the heat.

He pushes me off and turns me on my back and lifts my legs up high … and sodomizes me. I cry out, my arms flung out, my hands frantic on the sheet as he drives his cock deep into my rear channel, fucking me up the ass. The pleasure is incredible: sharp, searing, intense. He squeezes my breasts as his cock saws in and out of my asshole. I cry out with each thrust, my head flipping wantonly from side to side. He reaches down and bends his thumb into my cunt and I arch violently, and have yet another orgasm. He grunts and cries out, his handsome head flung back, his body rigid. My orgasm ebbs and he quickly jerks his cock out of me and, grabbing my head and hair, pulls my mouth to his crotch again. I kneel on the bed, bent forward and greedily suck his cock. I can taste all our juices on it. He groans, holding my head in both hands and pumping his hips to and fro at my face and then cries out, tossing his head back. I gasp, whimpering, jerking the peon’s cock, my fingers slippery with his cum-slime. I open my mouth eagerly. He explodes with a loud, shuddering moan. I whimper in pleasure. His cum spurts from his cock-head. It is a copious shower. The cum floods my mouth and spatters my face and eyelids and hair, my cheeks and breasts. It feels and tastes wonderful. I swallow what is in my mouth and smile lasciviously up at him and wantonly take his cock slowly in my mouth again.

His cum is on my mangalsutra too. I take the chain between my lips and lick it off, scoop it off my cheeks and eyelids and lick that too. I run my fingers through the puddles of cum on my breasts and massage it into my flesh. We sink to the bed, kissing. He can taste his cum off my tongue and lips. I squirm against him.

We fell asleep together, sliding into a deep and exhausted slumber. At some point in the early morning, he woke me with a caress and fucked me again, long and slow, making me whimper and gasp as his cock rocked stiffly in and out of my cunt. I took him eagerly. We came together, his cum filling my cunt and seeping over my thighs.

We woke late this morning and, within minutes, he was hard again, moving over me and into me and I sighed in pleasure, arching languorously under him as his cock drove into my flesh. I murmured lovingly to him, kissing him and caressing his hard body over mine, softly urging him on to yet another sweet release.

Catching Up

2007-11-23T05:12:11Z

Finally got a breather, a nice long spell in amchi Mumbai for a few months, no travelling. What a relief! I have expanded the office (got additional space), added more ple and now I send others to do my dirty work for me while I enjoy the pleasures of my home town.

]]> And what wonderful pleasures these are! Last night, after so long I can hardly remember the last time, Mala and I fucked. This was a spontaneous carnal carnival, not our usual planned love-fest out of town. She didn’t have anything planned, and neither did I. We shared a half bottle of wine, and sat around laughing and chatting, catching up on the news in each other’s lives and such. It got quite late and we moved off to the bedroom. She went into the shower and, after a few minutes, I heard her calling for me. I went in and she asked me to come in and shower with her.

We were nice and mellow, and both very, very horny … wine does that to us. We let the hot spray crash over us while we kissed and, as I cupped her breasts and fondled them, they became heavy with lust, swelling and hardening in my hands, her nipples jumping up stiff. Her fingers closed lovingly around my cock. I bent my head and sucked on her breasts. She moaned, flinging her head back.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Don’t make love to me … fuck me … fuck me like you fuck the others … like the naukars fuck me … fuck me like a whore, Mehul!” she gasped. “Fuck me hard!”

Her words inflamed me. We stumbled out of the shower, grabbed a couple of towels. We slowed ourselves deliberately, gently wiping each other down—it was a caress in itself. She groaned and fell to her knees in front of me and began sucking my cock.

“Oh god, oh god,” she mumbled. “I love your cock so much, Mehul! It’s been so long …”

I grunted, and fucked her mouth heavily, holding her head in my hands and moving it back and forth, pumping my hips to and fro. Mala loves sucking cock, and she’s really quite incredibly good at it. It’s hard to describe the things she does: the way she uses her tongue, sweeping it in circles around the cock-head, then lifting her mouth away slightly and just flicking her tongue rapidly at the cock-head; the way she gently scrapes her teeth up and down the shaft. She ducks her head, lasciviously runs her tongue down the underside of the cockshaft while holding it in one hand against her face and moves lower to gently suck and lick the balls. Moaning, she caresses her face with it. It’s an incredible feeling.

Don’t ask me how we got to the bed. I don’t remember. One minute we were in the dressing, Mala on her knees in front of me, sucking my cock hungrily and the next we were on the bed, me on my back, legs spread wide and Mala was on her knees between my legs, her soft hair cascading over my thighs, her head bobbing up and down over my lap. I surrendered to her, groaning, holding her head in my hand and moving it up and down over my crotch. She sucked and jerked my cock eagerly. She lifted her head, her eyes glassy with lust, her lips parted and lasciviously dragged her swollen breasts over my throbbing cock, then squeezed her breasts over it while she nuzzled my belly.

“Fuck me,” she moaned again. “Oh god, Mehul, I’m so wet … please … fuck me!”

“Keep sucking, bitch!” I snapped. “You just keep sucking my cock till I tell you to stop! C’mon! Do it!”

She moaned despairingly but obediently went back to work on my cock. I sank back into the bed, revelling in the wonder and beauty of it, bending my head to watch her. It was a treat to see her face distended with my cock, to hear her thick moans and to watch her sucking and licking, her hunger and lust palpable.

I thought of our naukars, each one of whom fucks her regularly, each one of whom I have seen fucking her. Visions of her and them flooded my head, and I remembered how, the last time I had watched, three naukars had fucked her together, in cunt, mouth and ass simultaneously, pinning her thrashing, trembling body between their dark sweating ones. I could see it vividly, her body quivering between theirs, one cock stuffing her mouth, the other two sawing rhythmically in and out of her cunt and ass. The image aroused me intensely.

I went to work. I pushed her head away and rolled her on her back sideways across the bed and moved over her. I pulled her hands up high over her head, pinning them there, and levered her legs open. We have a high four-poster bed, originally designed for a mosquito net, but now draped with attractive coloured swathes of crepe fabric. It has certain modifications and additions to meet our requirements. For one thing, it’s fairly high, so a normal sized guy can stand on one side and fuck a woman lying on her back on the bed.

But more interesting are the fitted restraints around the legs and upper and lower frames of the bed — wrist and ankle cuffs that are secure and firm, with enough play, but padded to avoid damaging the skin.

Before Mala knew what was happening, I’d snapped a pair of cuffs around her wrists, high over her head, and, pulling her legs wide, one over each ankle, attached to the posts at the head and foot of the bed. There was enough slack in the cuff chains for her to move up and down the bed; other than that, though, she was captive.

I tormented her. God, how I tormented her. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Grinning in delight, I moved over her, lazily kissing her, teasing her lips and tongue with mine. I swept my tongue through one ear, then dragged it down the side of her neck, over her shoulders, through her exposed, shorn armpits. She moaned, her face turning to one side, her back arching in deep pleasure. I swept my tongue up the curve of one breast, carefully avoiding her hard nipple. With my fingers I traced patterns on the swell of her other breast, also keeping away from the breast tips. She gasped, her back stiffening in a bow. I ran my tongue in circles around one nipple, my fingers around the other, and then whipped one with my tongue and flicked the other with my fingernail.

“OHGOD uhh OHHHHH uhhh OHHHHH!” she cried, her head jerking back. “Oh fuck yes yes oh god yes!”

I scraped my teeth over her nipple, pinching the other one in forefinger and thumb, and then drew the mound into my mouth and began sucking on it. I sucked hard, let go, sucked again, then gently laved it with my tongue. Mala’s moans were thick and heavy as I moved to the other breast.

“Oh god fuck me fuck me fuck me Mehul fuck me!” she gasped.

I chuckled, moved lower, sliding down her flat belly. Her pussy was smooth and clear of hair, and dripping wet. I gazed at it for a moment, entranced by the sight of her cunt-juice on her cunt-lips. Bending between her legs, I slowly forked her cunt-lips open in my fingers and slid my tongue into the soft moist flesh within.

“OHHHHuhhhOHMAuhhhhOHHHHHHHH!” she went.

Tenderly, I ran my tongue up and down her cunt-lips. They were swollen now, and her gorged clit quivered at my lips. I flicked it to and fro with my tongue. She cried out and, looking up, I saw her biting her lower lip. Her head flipped from side to side. Her back arched, her breasts thrusting out. I saw her wrists straining at the cuff. Slowly, I slid a finger into her cunt and began tongue- and finger-fucking her.

“OH uh OHH! Uhh oh god ohuhhahhhhuhhhhOHfuck yes oh fuck yes fuck yes fuck fuck yes uhhh ohma uh ohhh uhh oh god oh oh god oh god!” she wept.

Her body jerked gently to and fro on the bed. Her breasts looked huge, swollen to bursting, her nipples hard and little rocks. I swivelled over her and lowered my cock into her mouth. She moaned thickly, took it deep in her mouth and suckedit feverishly, her head rocking up and down. I contined to tongue- and finger-fuck her. She whimpered beneath me and I felt the heat building in my loins.

I rolled off her. “Now,” I announced. “Fuck time, bitch!”

“Oh god yes!” she moaned, trembling in her restraints on the bed.

I positioned my cock over her cunt and bent over her on my knees with my arms outstretched.

“C’mon! Fuck me!” she gasped up at me. “Fuck me hard, baby! Fuck me like one of your whores!”

I rammed my cock deep into her without warning, in one long piercing stroke. She shrieked, her body bending under mine, her limbs straining at their bonds, her mouth tearing open, her face contorting, her head jerking back. I thought she looked ravishingly beautiful in that state. Her cry was music to my ears. Her cunt went into frantic spasms on my cock. I buried myself inside her and held still, flinging my head back and closing my eyes, savouring the powerful sensations in my loins.

“OHHHHHHHHHHH uhh oh god you fuck oh god that’s so good Mehul baby yes!” she went as her cry turned into a moan.

I began fucking her then. Not making love, just fucking her, like I fuck the others. Powerful ramming thrusts, lifting my hips and sending them crashing down again, moving faster and faster, flexing and unflexing my buttocks, swinging my hips, enjoying the muscle burn in my arms and shoulders. Beneath him, helpless, she moaned and thrashed, her hips bucking in a frenzy under mine, her head whipping from this side to that.

“C’mon whore, take it!” I cried. “Take my cock, you whoring bitch! Chul, saali rahnd! Lele mere lavde ko! *Hanh … chul, rundi, chul! Ye le!”

“Ohhh uh ohma uh hanh uhh oh uh hanh uhh oh god Mehul yes oh god yes fuck me! Fuck me baby fuck me oh fuck yes uhh oh yes uhh ohma uh hanh uhh ohhhhh uh hanh uhh hanh uhh chul … chul … chodh mujhe … jorse chodh!”

On and on I went, keeping a rapid, yet steady, rhythm. Her body jerked under mine, her swollen breasts jiggling with my thrusts, bouncing up towards her shoulders with each thrust, then lowering, then bouncing up again. Her gold necklace glittered on her tawny skin.

“Oh fuck yes c’mon!” I gasped. “C’mon you slut, take it! Take my cock!”

“Ohh yes baby yes!” she responded. “Fuck me … oh god yes … oh god that’s so good … fuck me … ahhhhh uhh yes oh god yes yes yes!”

I kept at it for a good ten minutes or so before I paused and released her. She moaned, her voice thick and tired, but didn’t resist when I turned her over on her forearms and knees. She whimpered, her swollen breasts pendulous, her gold necklace running against the bed. I knelt behind her and thrust myself into her again, gasping at the fierce heat and tightness and wetness of her cunt. She cried out, rocking and jerking beneath me, her breasts bouncing heavily as I stroked powerfully in and out of her. Leaning over her, I crushed her breasts in my hands and jammed my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue into her mouth.

“I fucked your new peon yesterday,” she gasped into my mouth. “The tall one. Manoj. He was fantastic … fucked me nice and hard … just like this … called me his rundi …”

It inflamed me, as she knew it would. She generally doesn’t spring such surprises on me. I didn’t mind. The thought was intensely erotic. I rose, held her hips and began fucking her harder still — which was just what she wanted — slapping her buttocks with my hands. Her orgasm was intense, blowing through her like a cyclone, making her cry out and gasp and claw at the sheets, her body tensing in every fibre, her cunt going into demonic convulsions on my cock. I kept pounding in and out of her till it passed.

Gasping, streaming with sweat, I lurched to my feet on the bed and pulled her up to her knees before me again, pushing my cock into her face. Moaning, panting, she sucked it eagerly and swiftly. I moaned as the heat rose higher in my groin. The eruption neared and I gripped her head and pulled it into my crotch, filling her face with my cock. My cum seared from deep within and shot into her mouth, clamped over my cock, down her throat. I released her. Her mouth was full of my cum, and I was still creaming, spattering her face and cheeks and eyelids and breasts, cumming in a huge, copious load.

We fell to the bed, panting. I lapped my cum off her breasts and kissed her, feeding her my cum off my tongue, massaging the rest into her flesh. She smiled gently, wantonly. We curled into each other’s bodies, contented and sated.

Mala At Play

2007-04-01T17:41:17Z

I’ve just realized that it’s been nearly a year since Mala and I made love. The last time was some time in April 2006 when we spent three days, just two of us, in Pawna. It was incredibly intense. We devoured each other, constantly and repeatedly, as if we were a newly married honeymooning couple. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and each other’s bodies. We didn’t need anyone else, and neither of us felt the need. There was no sense of boredom; far from it. It was so intense that we were oblivious to everything around us. We barely noticed what we ate, and we ate only for immediate sustenance, and then went back to each other. At the end of it, we were totally drained, totally spent, and more alive and together than ever. It was a form of reaffirmation, if you like.

]]> Neither of us is yet ready for another session like that. It takes us several days to recover, me more than her, and in that recovery time we are totally ‘dry’ — no sex at all. Yes, that’s right, even she goes without. It feels like our lives have been taken apart, and it takes a long time for us to piece them together.

The memories are vivid and fresh still. I remember the look on her face, her voice, hoarse and ragged with passion, the words she used. I remember her kneeling, naked, on the wooden sun-deck, slowly and heavily sucking my cock. I remember fucking her standing up from behind, bending her forward over the waist-high handrail, slowly squeezing my inflamed cock into her cunt, holding her hips and fucking her deeply, the way her cunt crushed down eagerly on my cock. I remember her sitting on my cock, riding it heavily, moaning and gasping, fondling her breasts, flinging her head back and crying out. I remember fucking her on her back on the dining table, spreading her legs apart and thrusting hard in and out of her cunt and then picking her up and carrying her over to the large, low divan, and continuing there, and the way she moaned and cried out, her body jerking and heaving under mine, her big swollen breasts bouncing with my thrusts, her face flipping from side to side, her hands flung back and clawing at the sheets. I remember cumming in her mouth and her swallowing all my cum, and cumming on her breasts and in her cunt. I remember her begging me to fuck her up the ass and my doing it, heavily and slowly, and her soft shrieks of pleasure as I buried myself in her rear channel. I remember her tongue in my mouth and on my cock.

Do I miss it? Not really. I know it is something we will always have and can always have whenever we both need it. I know that neither of us will refuse the other, and, equally, neither will demand it of the other. We know, instinctively, when we’re ready for it, and the time is not now, not as yet. For the moment, we are content with our many other lovers.

Late this morning, I watched her with one of her newer naukar lovers. He’s been recently hired and the attached picture shows you his primary qualification for the job. I woke late; after many months, I’ve had a relaxed weekend. Last night, we were at one of our regular swinger parties. A small group, six couples in all, and all of them in our swinging circle. The evening’s entertainment had to, of course, include a naukar element, since every one of these ladies routinely gets laid by a naukar or three. For a bit, it was hands-off for the husbands. Turn by turn, each couple was brought forward. There were five naukars, one from each household, in attendance — and, of course, our ‘rules’ include naukar-swinging, which means that no memsahib is allowed to get laid by her own naukar. The husband was positioned in a chair to one side of what was, really, a slightly elevated platform in the middle of the room, made from two beds joined together and lifted up on wooden chocks. On that, the naukar proceeded to fuck the memsahib while everyone else watched.

As always, I was thoroughly pleased with the expressions of lust on the faces of my friends as I watched them watching Mala with her chosen naukar-lover. There was nothing staged or put on about it; the ladies were totally uninhibited, and the sex was very immediate and real.

Dinner followed, a lot of general conversation and laughter and then the usual pairing-off thing. Mala had drawn a handsome well-built man named Deepak, a relatively new entrant to our group. He’s about 10 years younger. As luck would have it, I got his wife, Seema. Deepak went off with Mala to our place, and I went off to Deepak and Seema’s. It wasn’t her first time swinging, but it was my first time with her, and I was very pleasantly surprised by her eagerness and enthusiasm. She’s fair-skinned, slim, with a lovely figure and deeply passionate about recreational sex. She loves sucking cock and gives one hell of a blow job. She had me turned on in no time at all, kneeling before me and sucking my cock hard. I slowed her down and then tormented her steadily with a thorough tongue- and finger-fucking before mounting her. I fucked her in three or four different positions — she loves doggy-style — and finished up cumming in her mouth. We showered together (involved one more fuck for the road), and then I kissed her good night and left.

Deepak and Mala were still at it when I returned. They were in one of the spare bedrooms. It was his first time, too, with her. I walked in and watched them for a bit. Of course, they didn’t stop — that’s another one of our rules. The husband is allowed to come in and watch, but can’t interfere. She was on her forearms and knees and he was fucking her heavily from behind. Both were streaming with sweat. I got massively turned on watching them, seeing the way her big, swollen breasts bounced and slapped together, hearing her moans and cries, seeing the muscular young man thrusting his big, dark cock in and out of her cunt. I watched them through to the end, seeing him cream in her face, seeing her swallow his jizz and moan happily.

“Good fuck,” he said to me as he left and we shook hands.

“Thanks,” I said. “So’s yours.”

“She satisfied you?”

“Fully. Truly magnificent.”

He grinned. “Good, I’m glad. Let’s do it again. How about a four-way?”

“Sure. Any time. Some time this week?”

“Great. I’ll call ahead and fix it up.”

“Look forward to it.”

We went to bed, Mala and I, happy and contented, murmuring softly to each other, holding each other close, the aircon going full blast. This morning, I woke late, lazily. More accurately, I was woken, by Sunita, the maid, drawing back the curtains. I groaned and told her to let me sleep.

“It’s past eleven,” she said firmly. “You need to get out of bed now.”

“You’re a damned tyrant,” I grumbled.

“Somebody has to be.”

She smiled and came across to me and sat on the bed by me. I felt her hand move under the sheets, her slender fingers curling lovingly around my cock. “Shall I wake you properly?”

“What a good idea,” I grinned.

I slid out of bed, did my loo thing and came back to find her under the covers, her sari off. I slid in beside her, enjoying the cool smoothness of her slender body. We kissed and I felt the hunger in her as her tongue worked its way into my mouth. Seconds later, her mouth was on my cock and I lay back, arching, surrendering to her gentle cunning. When I was ready, she mounted me and I groaned at the fierce, tight heat of her cunt. I cupped her lovely breasts, squeezing them and she leaned forward over me so I could suck them. Her cunt moved deftly up and down and round and round. I felt her orgasm nearing, and took control, holding her high and hammering my hips rapidly up and down under her, making her cry out and gasp. She came hard and I let myself go, cumming violently inside her cunt. Panting and gasping, she fell over me, her lips warm on mine, her tongue moving gently over my lips.

“Where’s Mala?” I murmured.

“Outside. Fucking the new servant.”

click to view

Kisan

I laughed. My wife really is incorrigible. Sunita and I moved out of bed. She dressed at Mala’s dressing table. I pulled on my loose boxer shorts and sauntered out. I found them in the spare bedroom, the naukar lying on his back and Mala straddling his lap in a deep squat, balanced on her toes, her knees splayed wide apart. Her head was flung back and she was gasping and moaning, leaning forward with her fingers steepled on the bed on either side of his hips. I leaned against the door jamb and watched, enjoying the spectacle of her cunt sliding up and down the naukar’s huge cock, seeing her breasts bouncing heavily. He grunted and heaved his hips up and down under her, his hands on her hips, sliding up to her breasts.

“Ohhh uhh hanh Kisan hanh … chodh mujhe!” she gasped, moving faster and faster on his cock. She moved onto her knees and began rocking her body back and forth over his, sliding her cunt back and forth on his cock. Her breasts bounced over his body. He crushed them in his hands and started tossing her hard on his lap, heaving his hips powerfully up and down, and then threw one arm around her hips, controlling her movements.

“Chul rundi chul! Lele! Le mere lavde ko!” he growled.

His dark body shone with sweat. His big hands slapped her buttocks loudly. I watched her lean forward and jam her mouth to his, wide open, thrusting her tongue greedily into his mouth. They continued for a long time and then she lifted her cunt off his cock, kissing him again lovingly with wide-open mouth and lots of tongue. They rolled over and, on her back, she opened her legs eagerly for him like a cheap whore, calling his name and begging him to fuck her. They’d seen me at the door by this time, but they carried on as if I wasn’t there. Kisan shoved a pillow under her hips and, bending over her, slid his cock down deep into her cunt. She cried out and arched under him, her fingers digging into his sinewy biceps. He began fucking her heavily, with long, deep skewering thrusts. She moaned and cried out, her body rocking and jerking under his, her breasts bouncing with his thrusts. He reared up on his knees, his heels under his buttocks and pulled her legs wide apart and high by the ankles so that his own arms were flung out wide on either side.

“Hanh, rundi, hanh! Lele! Le mere lund ko!” he shouted, flinging his head back. His hips snapped smartly back and forth and his huge cock pistoned furiously in and out of her cunt. Beneath him, Mala cried out, her face twisting in agonised pleasure, her hands lifting and crushing her breasts. He continued fucking her heavily for a long time and she came, moaning and gasping. He kept going for a while longer and then, with a loud cry, jerked out of her and came hugely, splashing his cum all over her belly and breasts, the jizz arching from his cock and settling gently on her trembling body. As his orgasm waned, he slid his cock into her cunt again and they fell together on the bed, moaning and kissing each other.

When she came out a while later, looking fresh and clean, it was hard to believe that this modest, sedately clad woman was the same creature who’d been writhing and moaning like a slut just a few seconds before with the servant.

Digging

2007-03-02T14:45:16Z

Spent a long evening over at K’s. She’s one of the ladies I’ve asked to write for WSR. In fact she’s the first I asked, primarily because I think she writes exceedingly well. Also, I’m genuinely fond of her. I’ve known her for, what, 12 years now? Since she was in her mid-teens, and I’ve seen her come of age and grow into gorgeous womanhood. She’s still as dazzling as ever, and marriage has done nothing to diminish her loveliness. Or randiness, for that matter. She’s still my ‘angelface, harlotheart’. She and Sonu, my beloved sister-in-law. Both share this incredible quality of a soft, gentle beauty over a truly steamy sexuality.

]]> She squealed in delight when she saw me at the door, and I swept her up in my arms, laughing, and we stumbled into her house. It’s a lovely terrace apartment in a brand new high-rise, fitted with every conceivable gadget and gizmo. Being what she is, she’s put in a stunning rooftop garden, too, complete with a jacuzzi.

She’s not overtly randy; in fact, like Sonu, she gives the appearance of being just a really pretty young lady, conservative and conventional. The reality is, thankfully, very different. We caught up — it had been some months since we met — and pretty soon were necking hungrily in a deep armchair, with her straddling my lap. She and her husband, Vijay, are relatively new to our group of 20 or so cuckolding couples (fondly known as the Cuckoos) and I think Vijay isn’t fully adjusted to the lifestyle yet. There’s still a lot of envy and resentment but it’s overshadowed by his evident arousal. It reaches it’s peak, she told me, when he sees her with a naukar, and she makes it a point to do it as often as she can with one of them in Vijay’s presence. Like almost every evening, about the time he gets home, she said, which is about 20 minutes from now. What luck!

Of course, I promptly shoved her off my lap and asked her to go to it with the servant while I waited. I wanted to see this. She was thrilled of course and summoned her Man Friday, a handsome strapping lad of 22 or so, good looking in a rough-hewn sort of way. They got down to it pretty quickly, in the hall itself and I settled down with a drink, enjoying the show. She’s really amazing and with all her cries and that lovely face screwing up with lust as the naukar began fucking her heavily, I decided I might as well join in. She was ecstatic of course and loved it.

So there we were, the three of us, the naukar and I steadily fucking the memsahib of the house in her cunt and mouth when there’s a key in the door and her husband walks in. He comes to a dead halt, jaw dropping and I grin at him and none of us make the slightest effort to stop. I tell him she’s still and incredible fuck and ask how he is. He doesn’t respond. The naukar guffaws and taunts him, says he’s a wimp who can’t get it up for his whore wife. Right on cue, she moans to him to fuck her harder. I step back — I’ll do my thing again later — and let them get on with it. For now, I’m happy watching the cuck hubby’s torment. The servant continues, fucking her heavily from behind now and she rocks back and forth on her hands and knees, her swollen breasts bouncing, till she comes. He keeps at it for a bit and then lurches to her feet so she can suck his cock and take his cum in her mouth. It’s great to watch.

She asks me to stay to dinner. I accept. Vijay doesn’t say much. After dinner, we go out to the terrace, naked and slip into the jacuzzi. She and I start off all over again. Vijay excuses himself and goes into the bedroom. I call Mala on the cell phone and tell her to send Leela over double quick, send her in the car. She’s there in fifteen minutes and the servant brings her out to the terrace where K and I are still in gridlock. I tell Leela what to do. K and I slow down. Soon enough I hear their sounds, his grunts, groans, her moans, then her soft shrieks and the creaking of furniture. All is well.

I tell K what I want her do. She’s very excited and promises to get to work right away. Let’s see what that fuckfest begets.

Breakfast Creme

2007-02-26T02:17:32Z

Lovely morning, cool and breezy. Made even lovelier by my beloved sister-in-law, Sonu, who arrived unexpectedly from her routine walk. Mala was still asleep and, in any case, in bed with another man. Shekhar, one of the naukar’s naukar buddies, a guy from another household who’s become quite regular here and over at Sonu’s. I’ve gotten used to sleeping alone. The life of a cuckold. Watching them last night was compensation enough.

]]> But I was glad for Sonu’s company this morning. She’s utterly bewitching — petite and gentle and smooth-skinned, with a lovely, slender, superbly curved body, still in great shape though she’s at least seven years older than me. She took off her walking shoes and track pants and slipped in beside me, hot and sweating and sexy, still in her T-shirt. I felt her lips on my chest, her tongue sweeping over my nipple and her gentle fingers at my cock and I was awake in no time. I greeted her with a smile — and she cut me enough slack, horny though she was, to let me get rid of the morning taste from my mouth and take a piss and a crap before getting back into bed. By which time she was naked and waiting. I got back into bed.

“And to what do I owe this honour?” I teased her.

“Nothing,” she giggled. “I was passing by and thought I’d drop in. It’s been a long time since we fucked.”

Long time indeed. Not more than a week, and I remember it vividly, the furious fucking in front of Hitesh, her moaning and thrashing wildly as I plunged into her and then, suddenly, before she could come, yielding to a naukar standing by. She’d been wild with anger and frustration and it had been good to watch her with the servant, attacking him feverishly, then gasping and crying out as he entered her and took her hard, then slowly, then hard again, and again and again through multiple orgasms. And when he’d done, and left her sheathed in sweat and his cum, sticky between her legs and breasts, his seed on her lips and tongue, I fucked her again, loving the smooth slipperiness of her naukar-cum-filled cunt.

But this morning was different, gentler and less hurried and I let her do the work. I lay back and she went down on me, sucking my cock lovingly for a long time, moaning and keening eagerly as my cock filled her mouth.

“God, I love sucking your cock,” she moaned.

“Correction. You love sucking cock,” I laughed, my hand on her head, moving it up and down over my lap.

I wasn’t in the mood for extended play, so I brought her up and sat her on my cock. She gasped and bit her lower lip prettily as she sat her cunt down slowly down on my rock-hard, throbbing erection.

“Oh fuck that’s so good!” she gasped.

I let her control it and she liked that. She moved at her own pace, first grinding back and forth and then slowly gathering speeed and bucking up and down. I matched my upward thrusts to hers and watched her face contort in pleasure and lust, loving the radiance suffusing her pretty features. She moaned loudly, obscenely, music to my ears. Her breasts, hot and swollen with nipples standing out rigid, bounced over me and I squeezed them and sucked them, making her moan even more loudly. I felt her orgasm rippling through her.

Then it was my turn. I moved her off me and turned her on her front, on her forearms and knees, and got on my knees behind her and started fucking her from behind. It’s my favourite position, and hers. And I do particularly love doing it in my bed because there’s a huge mirror on the wall at the foot and we can see ourselves and it’s one heck of a turn on. I loved watching her face and the expressions of lust crossing it, her eyes hooded, her mouth open, and her slender body rocking to and fro, her swollen breasts bouncing and slapping together. I kept at it, moving fast, slowing down, moving fast and hard and deep again, alternating and varying speed and thrust depth like old Baba taught me in Jabalpur. It never fails. She had a second orgasm and very quickly a third and each time her cunt went into spasms and convulsions on my cunt. I kept going, now moving faster and deeper and harder, making her cry out loudly and claw at the counterpane. I bent over her and twisted her face and thrust my tongue into her mouth.

“Breakfast for you?” I said into her mouth.

She moaned her assent eagerly and I slid out of her and got to my feet, spreading them wide on the bed. Whimpering, she turned and knelt between my legs and sucked my cock furiously, jerking it too in her fist. I held back as long as I could, enjoying her frustrated c’mon c’mon c’mon please …. cum in my mouth and then closed my eyes and immersed myself into the fires in my loins. The heat erupted and I snapped my eyes open, dropping my head just in time to see the cum spurting from my cock into her mouth, spattering her cheeks and eyelids, dribbling down her chin and between her breasts. She swallowed it, swiped it off her cheeks and eyes with her fingertip, licked it lasciviously, massaged the gunk between her breasts into her skin. I went down and kissed her and we slipped into bed, smiling and murmuring and drifted into a wonderfully restful post-coital slumber.

New YahooGroup

2007-02-25T19:44:52Z

Oops. Forgot. I recently started a new YahooGroup called Where Sudras Rule. Some signups, but it’s slow. The group’s intended for those who love dark naukar types, and I don’t use sudra in any pejorative sense. Wrote up a small essay on sudras on that, too — and got at least one positive feedback on that. Photos, though, have became a pain at the YahooGroups, and finally figured that my best bet was flickr. Instructions on viewing pictures are included when you sign up at WSR.

Sexual Compass

2007-02-25T18:38:35Z

Seem to be losing my sexual compass. Not finishing much of the writing I’ve begun in the past few weeks, constantly distracted. Need to gain focus. Doesn’t help that Mala incessantly provides me with more fuel and more fodder for more writing and correspondingly less time. Need to put things in order. Too much chaos.

Watching

2006-06-08T08:34:20Z

One of the sexiest things is the sight of my wife’s cunt being plugged by one of the seemingly endless line of hard-bodied servant bulls she has to pleasure her. While our escort service is always ready to supply her with a handsome, dark, well-endowed and supremely skilled gigolo, she has a distinct penchant for these naukars.

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click to view

a professional

The gigolos know exactly what they’re doing, when to get rough, when to slow down and be tender. But they are paid to service, and their approach is, therefore, different. It is she who has to push them to be demanding, or rough, or fierce — after all, it’s her satisfaction that earns their handsome keep. With a naukar, or one of those odd-job youths I recruit off the streets, a tapori with a distinctive street-manner, it’s different. Typically, the naukar or tapori is young, dark, lean and almost always very well hung. They fuck her primarily for their satisfaction. They are instinctively demanding. She loves their crude language and their demanding fucking styles, the rough way they handle her body. There is a fierce lust in them, she says, a hunger and a fever that leaves no room for love making or even having sex. It’s just fucking, and it’s animal, elemental. There is no sophistication here and there’s nothing gentle or nuanced or lover-like. No attachments, no emotional entanglements. Just a complete union of bodies satisfying a primal need. Carnality at its purest.

Plus, of course, being fucked by a naukar — even more so with a tapori — is so socially risky and taboo that it only adds a zesty fillip to the fornication.

She makes sure I miss no part of what follows. It is a game we play, excruciating pleasure for her and exquisite torment for me. And it never palls. Each time is fresh and vivid. Even now, as I write, the sterile letters on the screen shimmer and fade, and I have before a series of vignettes; it’s not the same naukar, nor even the same mis-en-scène, but it is all seared into memory.

She gets back on the divan, perhaps, lying on her back, her head towards me, her feet in the opposite direction. She bends her knees and spreads them, claws her cunt-lips open for her naukar lover. He laughs at her, and, over her frame, at me, as he gets between her legs, his rampant penis sawing the air over her body. She moans loudly, spreading her legs wide on either side of his hips, lifting her hips eagerly to his. I watch as they kiss with wide open mouths and lots of tongue. It is lascivious, and it is deliberate. She tugs at his cock.

“Yes!” she moans. “Fuck me, Deepak … c’mon! I want you! Fuck me! Chodho mujhe, Deepak! Jorse chodho! Fuck me hard!”

He laughs again, looking me in the eye, and lets him guide his cock to her cunt. He enters her slowly, savouring three things at once — the feel of her cunt, the sound of her voice, the look on my face.

“OHHhhhhhhh!” she moans. “Oh god yes! Fuck me, Deepak! Fuck me! I want your cock, baby, I want it all!”

He sneers at me again as he drills his cock deep into her flesh. And then he begins fucking her, taking her hard, with fierce, punishing thrusts, rocking his steeply back and forth and up and down. Sometimes his body is angled over hers, poised on outstretched arms and knees, his hips swinging up and down in a punishing rhythm. Other times, he straightens his torso, kneeling between her thighs, his own thighs spread wide, and lifts her legs up high and wide and fucks her thus. She likes it either way. And I’m not complaining either.

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On top …

I am transfixed. The naukar’s body is beautiful, sleek and dark and lean, the skin stretched taut over the wiry muscles. I watch as she digs her hands into his thickly rounded biceps and begs him to fuck her harder. Her body jerks and rocks back and forth on the divan with his angry thrusts. I can see his huge cock pistoning in and out of her cunt, glistening with their coital fluids. Her hips heave up and down in tandem with his. His thrusts make her swollen breasts jiggle. The gold chain around her neck dances on her tawny skin. She arches her neck, throwing her head back, howling her pleasure loudly and unabashedly, her mouth wide open, her eyes closed.

“OHHHHHHH uhh OHMA uhh ahhhhh uhhh yes!” she cries, and her voice is now sexily guttural, raw, animal. “OHHAHHHH uhh yeh yeh yeh ohbaby YES! Fuck me! C’mon! Fuck me hard ohhhhh yes oh god oh god oh god yes oh god yes oh you fuck you fuck you fucker yes c’mon, FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! Chodh mujhe saale chutiye madarchod saale chodh mujhe jorse chodh! Phad de mere chuth ko tere lavde se ohhhhhh uh OHMAUHHANHuh HANH UH HANH UH HANHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUHHOHHH!”

My ears ring with their cries, the soft slap-slap of flesh on flesh. Sweat splinters off their bodies. He slows and she hisses like an animal, drags her tongue lasciviously over her lips and smiles wantonly up at her naukar lover. Her body unwinds from his. He is still inside her, but moving slowly now, and if he’s been on his knees, he now leans over her. She caresses his back and shoulders lovingly. They kiss again and then she digs her teeth into the pads of muscle in his shoulders and grips his buttocks and her finger probes his asshole. He winces and tears away.

“Kutti,” he grins. “Bitch. You’re a wild animal, you whore! Saali jungli rahnd!”

“Shut up and fuck me,” she retorts, but laughing. “Abbe chup kar saale aur chodh mujhe!”

They’ve slowed to catch breath, to stave off their orgasms. There is a lot more fucking ahead. We all know it.

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The arrogance of
the well-endowed young naukar

Another vignette. The naukar on his back, in the same position she was in earlier, and Mala astride his lap. She takes his cock and slowly impales her cunt on it. She’s on her knees across him or, often, in a deep squat, balanced on the balls of her feet, leaning forward. She is wicked with her cunt and the young naukar moans as she grinds her hips back and forth and then swirls them cleverly in circles, squeezing his cock with her strong cunt muscles. He slides his hands up her body and squeezes her breasts, rolls her stiff nipples in his palms. She groans and smiles down at him and cups his hands in hers.

“Oh fuck!” he gasps under her. “Hanh, rundi, chul! Naach mere lund pe, kutti! Yes, whore, c’mon! Dance on my dick, bitch!”

Groaning, she obeys her servant-master. She leans forward now, her arms outstretched, her hands on his wide chest or on the bed on either side of his torso. I watch as she begins to rock back and forth, slowly at first and then faster and faster, lifting her cunt up the length of his massive black dick, then pushing it greedily back down again. He grunts thickly, still gripping her breasts and now his hips are moving with hers, pumping rhythmically up and down under her. She gasps and cries out as his huge cock runs up into her cunt again and again. He slides his hands down her body and grips her hips, her buttocks. She whimpers as his fingers pull apart her buttocks and one finger probes her anus.

“Ohhhhhh uhhh yes oh fuck yes! OHHHHHH uh ohma uhhh ah uhh hanh chul! Chul saale bhadve chul! Chul! Chodh mujhe hanh uhhhh HANH UHH HANHHHH UHH OHHHHUHHHAHHH uhh OHHH!” Again her voice has that raw, throaty quality that I find so erotic. It’s an animal sound, like a dog keening, so intense is the pleasure she derives.

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Riding his cock

Faster and faster they go and now I can hear, too, the slap of her buttocks as they bounce off this thighs, and the wet squelch of her cunt rocking feverishly up and down the length of his dark cock. Her breasts bounce and jiggle with their movements. Hissing, moaning, crying out, she leans forward and pushes one breast to his mouth and I watch the servant take my wife’s breast in his mouth and suck on it, teasing the hard point with his tongue and teeth. She gasps and cries out.

“Okay, come on! Accha, ab chul!” he cries loudly, and grips her hips and holds her body up, poised over his, and begins hammering his hips violently up and down under her.

The effect on her is magnificent. Her mouth tears open, her face contorts, but it is an expression of the utmost delight. “OHHUHAHHHUHHHHOHH-OH-OH-OH-OHuhh OHHH HANH UHHHH HANH UHHH OHHHH UHH HANH CHUL CHUL HANH CHODH … CHODH MUJHE HANH AISE OHHHHH YES OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK YES OHHHHHH YOU FUCKER C’MON FUCK ME! FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!”

Her breasts bounce wildly, the gold chain around her neck flies this way and that. His hips crash up against her buttocks again and again, and the sound is loud now, a hard slap of flesh on flesh. And now there is, too, the sound of his hands slapping her buttocks hard, raising soft red weals on the smooth curves.

“Yeh! C’mon! Take it! Take my cock, you whorin’ bitch! Take it! Ahhhhh yeh! C’mon! Oh fuck yes!” Each cry is punctuated with the slap of his hands on her buttocks and her corresponding cry of pleasure. “Hanh! Chul! Lele! Le mere lavde ko, tu saali rundi kutti! Lele! Hanh! Aise! Chul, rahnd, chul!”

Faster and faster he goes, ramming his cock hard into her cunt, and now he strikes her breasts, too, whipping one hand sharply across the hyper-sensitized, quivering nipples. She shrieks in agonized delight. Her fingers claw at his body in a frenzy. She is on the verge of an orgasm when, suddenly, he stops, jerking her down on his cock and pulling her body down onto his, gently taking her breasts between his lips again. She sobs in frustration and pleasure, whimpering and panting and gasping, her sleek body glistening with sex-sweat. Moaning, she kisses him deeply, hungrily, and I watch, enthralled, despairing, enchanted, disgusted, proud and envious all at once, as my wife slides her tongue in and out of the servant’s mouth.

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Poised to pierce

Her favourite position is, of course, from the rear. She loves the feeling of being dominated, the depth of penetration and, above all, the sheer animal structure of the position. She is facing me now, on her forearms and knees, her thighs spread wide, her breasts pendulous like succulent jackfruit, her gold necklace swinging free. Her head is bowed, her shoulders hunched. The naukar gets behind her on his knees and, over her horizontal body offered wantonly for his pleasure, taunts me again.

“Dekh, saale! Dekh kaise teri rundi-aurat kutti ki tarah mere khushi ke liye tayar hoh gayi! Mere liye! Ek mamuli naukar ke liye! Aur tu? Tu saala madarchod hijda! Tu saala bas dekhte reh, dekhte reh mujhe, kaise main teri, teri aurat ki, tere khandaan ki izzat lut raha hoon!” There is scorn, and derision, and contempt and every other feeling of denigration possible in his words. “Look, bugger! See how your whore-wife spreads herself for my pleasure like a bitch! For me! A mere fucking servant! And you? You motherfuckin’ wimp! You just watch, just keep watching how I fuck you, your wife, your honour!”

Honour, izzat, is a big thing with these guys. It’s more than just honour, actually, it’s pride, and self-esteem and a whole bunch of other things. And one of its key components is the chastity and fidelity of the wife, and the duty of the man, above all things, to defend that. They will never understand us.

We don’t want them to. It’s much, much better this. Much more painful, much more pleasurable. His words twist in my gut like a knife. It’s a feeling I’m now familiar with, and one that gives me a rush.

Her position is, strictly, according to the Kama Sutra, the cow position, not doggy-style, but nobody’s on technicalities now. Making sure I’m watching — of course he has my complete attention — the naukar grips his thick, long cock-shaft and pushes it between my wife’s buttocks. He pauses with his cock-head at her anus.

“Gaand marun kya uski? Shall I fuck her ass? Woh bhi dekhna chahega kya? You wanna watch that too?”

“As you wish,” I say softly. “Do as you wish. Joh chahe kar. Mujhe koi pharak nahin padta. Makes no difference to me.”

“Saala gaandu bhadva hijda,” he sneers, contempt in every line of his face. “Fucking wimp asshole!”

She turns her face over a slender shoulder to him, at the same time reaching down under her body for his cock. “Deepak! Chul! Chodh mujhe! Chuth mein abhi!” she says. “C’mon! Fuck my cunt for now! Meri gaand baad mein maar sakte hoh. You can fuck me up the ass later!”

“Suna?” He crows. “Suna tere rundi-biwi ne kya kaha? Suna uski chahat? Kaise bhik maag rahi hai? Hear that? Hear what she said, your whore-wife? Hear her fuckin’ beggin’ for it?” He turns to her, chortling. “Toh chul, rahnd, itni khujli hai tere chuth mein toh … le, bhuja le tere chuth ki pyaas is Deepak ke lavde se!” Some things just do lend themselves to a meaningful translation. Not, at any rate, without complete destroying the flavour and tenor.

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Doggy style

He enters her in a rush: he pushes his cock-head between her cunt-lips; it pops in; she gasps and her head arches up and she bites her lower lip; before she has time to adjust to his size, he grips her hips and flexes his buttocks and slams his hips forward and drives his cock up deep into her cunt. She shrieks, her mouth tearing open, her long neck arching back, her fingers clawing at the counterpane. He cries out, too, exultantly, and laughs, and begins fucking her brutally, holding her hips and moving her body back and forth before his even as he swings his hips rapidly to and fro. His cock appears and disappears between the curved lobes of her buttocks with the relentless, unstoppable rhythm of a piston. I hear his thighs slapping at her buttocks. Her body rocks and jerks furiously on the bed. Her breasts bounce violently. Her gold necklace is dancing and flying. Her cries are loud and shrill and high and lewd. He hits a steadier rhythm, slightly slower than before, but still deep, smooth, crushing thrusts. He crosses his hands in the small of her back. He is no hurry. None at all. Her ululating moans dwindle to longer whimpers, guttural groans and thick-voiced gasps. For some reason, the sounds seem to fade, and I seem to be floating softly away, higher and further, just watching their rocking, writhing, bodies. I can see everything perfectly, and there are also now isolations of view — a hard nipple, the swell of a bouncing breast, the sweep of her neck, the curve of her back, the way she tosses her head to one side and flicks her hair over the other shoulder.

“OHHHHHH yes oh baby yes!” she moans. “Fuck me Deepak … oh fuck that’s so good baby … your cock’s so good in my cunt! Ahhhhh yeh … c’mon … fuck me baby … fuck me hard … oh yeh … c’mon! Give it to me! I want it all! Oh fuck I love your cock, baby! C’mon! Chul, Deepak! Chodh mujhe! Jorse chodh! Tera lavda itna accha lagta hai mere chuth mein! De de mujhe, Deepak, pura de de! Hanh uh hanh uhhh OHHHHH!”

“Chul rundi saali chul! Le! Le mere lund ko! C’mon whore! Take my cock!” he cries, again striking her buttocks as he fucks her cunt.

He picks up speed, and now there is a vicious snap to his hips as he thrusts into her, and each thrusts draws a choked, broken sob from her. He grips her shoulder and yanks her body backwards, pulling her fiercely back onto his cock. His fingers twine in her hair and he pulls her head up as he fucks her.

“Yeh! Take it! Take it! Take it!” he cries, slamming his hips back and forth, back and forth, his big, dark fingers digging into her shoulders.

Swiftly, breaking rhythm only for a fraction of a second, he rises to straddle her hips. She moans and her shoulders sink down onto the bed, her face turned to one side, her hips and butt thrust steeply up at him hovering in a deep squat over her. He grips her waist and now starts fucking her even harder, his huge cock slamming steeply up and down and in and out of her cunt. Her cries are loud and high and shrill and broken. Her fingers claw at the sheets.

“OH! OH! OHH! OH! OHFUCK OHFUCK OHYOUFUCKYESOHGODYESOHHHHHHHHYOUFUCKERYES C’MON FUCK ME YES OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD YES YES YES!” she howls.

Still he is not sated. He buries himself in her with an exquisite, slow, drilling action and bends his body over hers. She turns her face readily to his and I see his tongue thrusting in and out of her eager, willing, wanton mouth.

“Now your ass,” he announces softly, but loud enough for me to hear. “Ab teri gaand. I want your wimp husband to see that too! Tere hijda marad ko woh bhi dekhne de!”

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Up her ass

For the next several minutes, I watch the young servant sodomize my wife slowly and deeply and thoroughly. His cock grinds heavily in and out of her rear channel. Pinned under him, she moans heavily, her voice raw, filled with lust, panting and groaning. I know for a fact that she loves this; she has always loved it, ever since her first experience when she was barely out of her teens. Holding his position in a wide-stanced squat over her hips, leaning forward, his head flung back, his lean, hard, dark, body slick with sweat, his muscles rippling like snakes under his taut skin, the servant strokes his cock in and out of my wife’s anus. She has orgasmed several times already and there is more than a hint of tiredness in her tone: her voice is heavy and thick, her speech is slightly slurred. The man is nearing his end, too. I watch as he finishes buggering her, pulls out of her, gasping, groaning, shaking and jerking his cock desperately and lurches to his feet on the bed.

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Yes, she swallows!

She knows what to do. Instantly she has turned around and is on her knees before him, her head turned up between his legs like a suckling calf and she takes his cock in her mouth again, sucking and slurping, her head rocking heavily back and forth. He does not last long. Groaning, gasping, wincing, he explodes. The copious flood of his jizz splashes on her face, spattering her cheeks and eyelids, her breasts, and her mouth, her wanton mouth, is open, too, and his cum spurts into it. I watch her moaning in joy with each spurting hitting her flesh. I watch him gasping, groaning, as he cums and cums and cums. She jerks his cock greedily, wanting more, always wanting more. His head is bent, watching her in delight. She looks up at him and there is that lascivious, slutty, slavish smile on her lovely face again. Knowing that she is watching her, she slides her tongue out to show him his jizz on it, and then draws it in and swallows it, and laps more off her lips and fingers, massages the rest into her breasts and face. He gasps at her, his eyes dancing in wonder and pleasure. Smiling, murmuring, she slides down on her back on the bed and pulls him down with her, kissing him, letting him taste his seed from her lips. I see her hand is still between his legs, lovingly caressing his cock.

I watch her with these lovers. I enjoy it. It turns me on. I don’t mind being taunted and jeered at by them. It fills me with a lustful pride to know that it is my wife — my wife — they’re fucking and that she’s still my wife. It’s not just that I am content with this, and I am: I have enough sources for my own needs, and it no longer matters that my wife is not one of them. It’s more; it is the knowledge that, despite the pleasure that is evident on her lovely face, in every move of her body, in her every utterance; despite the jeering and taunting by the man who she — apparently — prefers to take between her legs than me, she is still with me and not with him, in a way that matters far more than this carnality.

It wasn’t always like this. In the beginning, watching her with another man made me very tense. My pulse and heartrate jumped, my erection was positively painful (I frequently creamed my pants long before they were done), my blood pressure went through the roof, and I was cleaved with envy and arousal. It took over a year of regular practice of yoga and meditation before I was able to handle it comfortably. Today, I can sit through an entire fuck-sessions — I have known them to last for over an hour, especially when she has multiple bulls servicing her simultaneously — without being distraught. It’s still an overwhelming experience, mind you, but now, with the training, it’s infinitely more intense. Of the tricks I’ve learned to be able to deal with this, two are vital: breath control and focus. The first is obvious. It means being able to keep your breathing and, therefore, your pulse, heart-rate and blood pressure, reasonably stable. The breathing is slow, measured and deliberate. Even at the more intense moments when, inevitably, there is more arousal and excitement, I’m able to steady it simply by being aware of it. One of the great spin-off benefits of this is that my hard-on, while still fierce, never gets the better of me. The second trick, focus, involves enormous concentration and effort. It requires you to, well, focus on individual elements that are happening in the here-and-now. Earlier, most often, it was my perception or imagination of what was happening that swamped me. Now I am immersed in the coupling as it happens. Individual body parts and expressions fill my vision. It’s like seeing everything in extreme close-up. This is a very different feeling, not just fly-on-the-wall but almost as if I’m outside of myself watching myself watch them.

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Naukar lover

An example: She is with a young servant, a new lover, about 22 or 23, very lean and hard-bodied and heavily endowed. She is on her back on a low divan in our living room and he is finger-fucking her rapidly with two fingers. From where I sit, on a slightly higher armchair set at a slight angle so that they are in a three-quarter profile to me, I can see everything: her splayed legs, her arched back, her shaven cunt-lips spread open. Her body jerks and bucks on the divan. Her head is turned to one side, facing me, and there is absolutely no mistaking the lust on her face. She moans and cries out as her body writhes on the bed, her hands on her breasts, squeezing them erotically. Her breasts are swollen to turgidity, her stubby nipples stiff and quivering. Her hips buck and heave up and down. The young servant kneels between her legs, leaning forward and chuckling gleefully as he pumps his hand to and fro, driving his long fingers in and out of her naked cunt. His fingers are visibly wet with her juices and I can actually hear the soft wet squelching sound they make. Her legs are bent and, as he pumps his hand more rapidly, I see her thighs trembling slightly like a butterfly’s wings.

The sudra naukar grins at her reaction and turns his head to me. I can see the disdain and contempt on his face. He knows I cannot look away. He slides his free hand up my wife’s body and squeezes one of her breasts hard. She moans thickly.

“You’re wife’s a whore,” he says.

I nod silently. No words are necessary.

“What kind of man are you?” he cries. “Look at her! Just look at her, man! It’s your wife! Your wife!” Still I say nothing. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, just look at her — lying here naked with her legs spread wide like a slut, her cunt open … for me! The servant! I’m your servant, man, and I’m going to fuck your wife, the memsahib, and all you’re going to do is watch?”

“Yes,” I say, very quietly. “That’s right. That’s all I’m going to do. Watch. I’m going to watch my servant fuck my wife. That’s right.”

He laughs derisively and sort of shrugs. “Have it your way,” he sneers. “You’re the boss. Go ahead, watch. Watch while I fuck her brains out and make her whine like a whore!”

He bends over her, turns her face up and jams his mouth to hers. She moans and arches eagerly under him, and I can see her pushing her tongue in and out his mouth and her hands going down his lean, hard body to his crotch. He bends his head and sucks hard on her breasts, making her gasp and arch. All the while his hand is still busy between her legs, as hers is between his. I am entranced by the sight of her slender fingers curled around his thick, dark, long cock-shaft, stroking and pumping it eagerly. They break the kiss, lingeringly.

“Fuck me,” she gasps, softly but loud enough for me to hear. “Please! Fuck me hard! Jorse chodh mujhe!”

“Just listen to her, you bhadva!” he cries. “Look how she’s kissing me … see how she’s begging me to fuck her!” He turns back to her, rams his fingers in hard and, crushing her breast in one hand, kisses her again.

“Your wife’s pussy is nice and sweet and juicy,” he announces, lifting his head.

As if I don’t know. Okay, so I haven’t been there for some time now, but let’s not forget I got there before him. But it’s also true that he gets into it much more often than I do now.

“Going to eat me some of that cunt-juice,” he continues.

He takes his hand out of her cunt and moves down her body. I see her arch with a loud shuddering gasp as he thrusts his face between her legs. He chortles, his eyes lifted to her. I watch the servant tongue-fucking my wife, his thick long tongue swirling and flickering like a snake’s in her slit. His eyes are lifted to watch her. There’s no mistaking that she loves every bit of this.

“OHHHHH,” she moans, her head thrown back, her long neck craned, her back arched. “Oh god yes, Deepak, yes! Oh god oh god oh ma uh hanh uhh yes oh god that’s so good yes! Hanh, Deepak, hanh! Chaat mujhe! Chaat mere chuth ko! Ohhhh uhhh hanh … please … mut rok … karte rehna … don’t stop … keep doing it … ohfuckohbaby yes!”

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Naukar tongue bath

She claws her cunt-lips wider open for him and I hear him chuckle and push his face even deeper into her crotch. He slides two fingers back into her cunt again, now tongue-fucking and finger-fucking her at the same time. Her hips buck and heave under his face; her fingers are twined in his hair; her face is radiant with lust — the eyes closed, the lovely lips parted, face turned to one side. She squeezes her breasts in rising excitement. Her knees flap up and down like a butterfly’s wings. I move my seat slightly so that I am now looking at them head-on, facing him, the top of her head towards me, her body stretched away towards the servant busily eating her pussy.

He takes his fingers out of her cunt and makes her lick and suck them. He looks up at me. “Wanna watch your whore-wife sucking my cock, wimp? Wanna see?”

I smile and nod. “Show me.”

“Oh man, you are the pits!” he cries, but I see his excitement.

He gets to his feet and pulls her upright to a sitting position on the divan and pushes his cock at her face. Mala moans thickly and slips off the divan to the floor before him. Her body is balanced on her knees and the soles of her feet, her buttocks resting on the backs of her heels. Her knees are spread wide. She prefers it this way: kneeling, subjugated, dominated. His cock saws the air in front of her mouth. She grips his cock, jerks it eagerly. I hear her moan. He yanks her head to his crotch.

“C’mon, whore! Suck!” he cries.

She moans again and her lips open wide and her mouth engulfs his cock.

“Oh fuck!” he cries, flinging his head back. “Oh fuck yes! OH fuck! You’re bitch is good, man, I tell you, she’s good! Ahhhhh … yeh! C’mon, whore! Suck! Suck my cock! Oh baby yeh! C’mon! That’s it! Suck my dick, slut, suck hard!”

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A little fellatio goes a long way

Not that she needs this goading, for she genuinely enjoys it, and she’s very, very good at it. I watch her head rocking back and forth, her face distended with the size of his cock. It makes her cheeks bulge as she takes it in her mouth in every direction and works it with her wanton, cunning tongue. His cock glistens as it slides in and out of her mouth. I can hear her guttural moans. Her palms rest on his thighs — she’s working it with just her mouth and tongue and teeth and lips, no handwork at all. I watch as she slides her hands sideways around his thighs and grips his taut buttocks, pulling him deeper into her mouth. He flings his head back and groans. She whimpers, sucking hard, and now her hands move to her breasts, squeezing them eagerly, lifting the swollen mounds, tweaking and pinching the elongated nipples.

“Hanh! Choos, rundi, choos!” he cries, grinning in delight, looking at me. “Yes! Suck, whore, suck!” He shows off now, puts one hand casually on his hip and the other on her head and moves it back and forth in his crotch. “Hey, wimpy bossman! You watchin’ this? You watchin’ how your slut wife’s suckin’ my dick, boss? Look at her, boss, jus’ look at her! Listen to her moaning, man, whimperin’ like a real bitch in heat!” In the vernacular, it is even more crude, even more delicious. “Arre bhadve sa’ab! Dekh raha hai na? Dekh raha hai na kaise teri rundi aurat mere lund ko choos rahi hai? Dekh usse, sa’ab, dekh! Aur sunh! Aur uski awaz sunai de rahi hai na? Thik kutti ki tarah!” He cackled at me. “Woh naukaron ke lund ko choosna pasand karti hai — magar woh toh tujhe patah hi hoga, na? She really loves suckin’ servant-dick — but I guess you know that well enough, eh?”

Indeed I do. I say nothing. He continues fucking her mouth, taunting me. She moans, lifts her head off his cock, caresses her face lovingly with it, now holding it and pumping it in her slender fingers. His sticky pre-cum slime shines on her lips and cheeks. A thin strand of it loops from his cock-head to her open mouth. Her tongue darts out and draws it in and she swallows it. Her eyes glisten with lust and there is a slavish smile on her face. I think she is loveliest like this — fully aroused, uncaring of where she is, knowing only the lust that is pulsing through her body. I watch as, moaning, she rises, nuzzles his belly and squeezes her lovely breasts in a delightful sheath over his throbbing cock. He tit-fucks her, laughing softly over her head at me.

“Time for some hard-stud action!” he announces, pushing her head back.

“That was good,” I hear her say. “Very good. I’m hurting … but it’s a nice kind of hurt …”

He laughs and lazily laps at her breast. His hand moves down her belly and she opens her legs for him. I see his hand in her crotch. “And I suppose you want more?”

“Not right away, but soon, baby, soon. Very soon.”

She snuggles against him and he puts his arm around her. They lie in my bed, my wife and my servant, and I sit there, a silent sentinel, watching as their breathing slows and they drift off into a slumber. Softly, I rise, turn down the lights and let myself out.

Shaven

2006-06-07T13:15:02Z

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Shaven

My wife often shaves her pussy fully. It’s a really sweet cunt anyway and when she shaves it like this, it’s even sexier because you can actually see her cunt juices glittering like jewels on her dainty cunt-lips. And sweeter still when one of those big huge monster dark cocks that she loves so much stretches her cunt-lips open and she begins to cry out and moan in passion. Often, I watch her masturbate her shaved cunt. She does this just for me, and it is absolutely the sweetest, most delicious torture possible.

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tempting me

She will lie back like the temptress and slut she likes to be, a real cock-tease and then, after a slow strip tease, open her legs wide to show me her gorgeous, shaved cunt. I am not allowed to go within two feet of it. Her legs are wide and sometimes she makes me kneel down between them and puts her legs on my shoulders or chest — so near and yet so far! — and then the real torment begins.

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fondling herself

She starts to fondle and caress herself, slowly, taking her time, sucking her fingertips, caressing and arousing her breasts and nipples, slowly moving her slender finger down to her cunt. Often, there is a hardcore movie playing on the TV and her face is turned to the screen and is full of arousal at the sight of a big, preferrably black, man fucking a woman heavily. The sound is also up so that the sound of their sex mingles with her soft, but slowly increasing moans. Slowly, her fingers descend to that luscious, shaven pussy. By now, I have a massive hard on and I want nothing so much as to thrust my face and then my cock into that inviting crevice … but this is forbidden fruit. I am not even allowed to take off my trousers. Instead, I just wait and watch, groaning and gasping. Just to aggravate my stress, she opens her cunt-lips with her fingers, spreading them fully so that I can see — but only see, not touch! — her sexy pussy and the jewel-like dewdrops of her first cunt juices shining on her cunt-lips.

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fingering

Then, slowly, slowly, she arches a finger into her cunt and the sight of her slim finger, with her gold and diamond ring, moving erotically in and out of her cunt is almost more than I can bear. She goes on like this for a while, fucking herself with one hand, fondling her breasts with the other and then she asks me for a vibrator. Of course, I have kept it ready. This is one small concession to me, for I am allowed to pick out the device of my choice. Of course, I always go for the best—the biggest, or the thickest, or the most life-like and one that has a multiple power setting. I give it her and watch as she licks and sucks it as if it is a real cock.

“Put it in,” she moans, handing it back to me.

This is the second small favour that is done to me. I take the vibrator and slowly press it into her cunt, watching, mesmerized, as it pulls her cunt-lips delightfully wide open and watching, too, the exquisite tension in her body and on her face as she arches and moans loudly in pleasure.

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vibrator

My role is over. I have to let go now and she takes over and starts fucking herself with it, taking her time, in no hurry at all. I can only watch as her hand moves the big vibrator in and out of her cunt, as her fingers play with the settings, moving it to different speeds, as her hips jerk and writhe, as she tosses and arches and thrashes in mounting ecstasy on the bed.

Often, she will turn over on her front and continue fucking herself from behind or might even set the vibrator on the bed and mount it astride. Sometimes she will call for a second one, a dildo, for her ass and I have this, too, ready and lubricated and I moan softly as I see the second shaft penetrating her second hole.

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Naukar lund

Her bulls know the routine and it is always timed to perfection. Just seconds before she comes, one of the fucking sudra naukars will come in, grinning at me. She will be on the bed, either on her back or on all fours, moaning and panting. Without a word, now laughing silently and mocking me, the servant will strip and get on the bed and push his big fat cock to her mouth. Mala almost sobs with gratitude at this and sucks his cock hard. Usually, the anal dildo is out now and she is just frantically fucking herself with the vibrator. On a good day, the servant will stop her and leave her thrashing, discarding the vibrator … for now more will follow and I, sitting only inches away, will have the privilege and pleasure of watching the servant mount my wife and service her like a whore-memsahib, pushing and thrusting his bloated cock in and out of her shaven pussy.

For me, there is seldom any greater, more exquisitely painful, pleasure than this.

Peregrinations II

2006-03-01T10:46:34Z

II. Hong Kong With Lajja

Hong Kong was a four-day trip and, as it happens, I had a day and a half free — would have loved to avoid it, I thought when I planned it, but the schedules went haywire and I had little choice. Things turned out beautifully, though, and I can’t say I have any regrets about it all.

]]> I asked Mala to come, of course, but she wanted to spend a long weekend at our beach place with Sonu, their cousin Deepika, frolicking with some naukars, taporis, sexy chokra-lunds, so I didn’t push it. She said she was booking a couple of gigolos, too; our service had called the day before saying that they had some fine new stock just in and would madam like to make a booking, being a premier client and all. Catch her refusing something like that. Two of them, she told me and showed me the photos the service sent ahead. Magnificent animals, both — smooth, dark, heavily muscled bodies, good features and equipment that might have served the Fire Brigade in an emergency. I felt a twinge of envy and disappointment at missing it — I could imagine the scene even then: Mala groaning as she eased her cunt down on one of those rock pillars while a heavily endowed naukar pushed his cock into her mouth; or my fair, petite, pretty sister-in-law whimpering while one of the gigolos crushed his monster cock into her cunt; or their cousin, Deepika — slender, willowy, with a sharp-featured face and glowing, lustrous eyes and full lips and an hourglass figure — arched steeply, her body rocking and jerking under the fierce thrusts of a dark young naukar chokra.

But it couldn’t be helped. Duty called. This was a critical time for the business and I just had to wrap things up. It was now or never. Still, I had that day and a half to kill … I phoned Lajja, Mala and Sonu’s other cousin, and see if she wanted to come along. I got her husband, Bharat, on the line.

“Hey, Bharat my man, what’s up?”

“Hi, chief. You’re back? Thought you were travelling.”

“Just for a couple of days. Off again tomorrow night. Hong Kong.”

“Lucky fellow.”

“Not really. It’s business, mostly, but I’ve got a day and a half free and I was wondering …”

He didn’t let me finish. I heard his snort of laughter. “Let me guess. And you want to borrow Lajja, yes?”

I grinned. “Yes, if you’re both okay with that.”

“I’m fine with that. Since when have we guys had much say in these things, dude? Hang on, let me get her. Ask her yourself. Hold.”

“Sure.”

Lajja came on and I told her the plan and asked her along. She laughed happily. “Oh certainly, darling, I’d love to come. Have I time to shop?”

“Plenty of that, and no worries about the money either.”

“Great! And where are we staying?”

I told her the name of the hotel. “I’ll upgrade to a suite if you come along.”

“Super! I love those fancy hotels! All that luxury! Mm, yummy!”

I laughed. “Yes, that’s the plus side. On the minus is that you’ll only have me to fuck.”

“Oh, darling! When have I ever complained about that? Really, you like putting yourself down too much. How often have I told you how much I enjoy being fucked by you?”

“I’ve always suspected you say that only to please me.”

“Eh? Don’t be an idiot, love! I mean, think about it, just think about it — Mala, Sonu, me, the others — we’re all happily screwing the servants — even begging for it from them — and telling them how much we love their cocks and the way they fuck us — and you really think I would even have to tell you something like that if it wasn’t true?”

“You’re right.”

“And you need your head examined. Okay, now you’ve successfully ruined all my plans, so I’m going to rush off and start packing. Damn, I don’t even know where I’ve stored that suitcase …”

I rang off happily, very excited now. Lajja loves shopping and given how good she is to fuck, I figured it was a small price to pay. Sort of a fringe benefit and one that our government still can’t tax. Lajja is slender and has a stunning figure: a near-perfect 36-26-34. Her breasts are beautiful, high and full with a tantalisingly deep cleavage and tipped with long slender nipples in areols that aren’t too big or too dark. Her belly is absolutely firm and flat and her waist narrows above her hips which flare out perfectly. Her butt is rounded and firm with no sag. Her arms and legs are slender, hairless, superbly shaped with delicate fingers, toes, ankles. Her face is lovely, elegantly oval with high cheekbones and a truly exquisite line to her jaw that leads to a firm chin. Her dark brown eyes are elongated, with long lashes, and rimmed with kajal. Her raven hair is thick and silky and hangs down to the middle of her back. Her neck is exquisitely long. And she has the most delectable, delicious mouth: truly rosebud lips, not too wide or fleshy or pouty, just right, soft and welcoming, but extended in a fine line on either side so that her mouth opens very wide when she laughs — which is often — an infectious, full-throated, head-flung back laugh that is at once utterly irresistible and indefinably feminine; or when we kiss, those lips slowly flowering, her sharp, eager tongue slithering into my mouth; or, better still, when, moaning in lust, she takes a thick long cock deep, deep into the cunning warmth of her mouth.

In many ways, she has a striking resemblance to Mala and they’re about the same age, too. Sexually, too, she’s very like Mala — both are more aggressive than Sonu or Deepika and have strong stamina. Lajja’s very lithe, and likes trying new and difficult positions. One of her favourites in standing up from behind, with her bent over and holding her calves (she generally prefers the rear-entry position).

We flew business class and, on the Cathay flight, Lajja snuggled next to me and slid her hand between my legs. She wanted to fuck but I laughed and whispered to her stop.

“We’ll have to travel first class for that,” I said.

She pretended to sulk. “But I’ve never fucked in an airplane before! I’d really like to join that mile-high club you guys keep talking about!”

“Next time, dear,” I grinned. “Next time I’ll charter a plane stuffed with naukars and gigolos and you can get yourself laid all over it.”

“Oh yummy!” she giggled, kissing me and nibbling my earlobe.

“Stop it, idiot,” I said softly. “Now get some sleep!”

We checked in to the hotel — not the one I usually stay in, because that closed in late-December for extensive renovations, but another, even more upmarket one. A large suite, plush bathroom and a stunning view of the harbour. Lajja was ecstatic.

My first meeting was a couple of hours away still — more than enough time — and then I had the rest of that day free. Of course, Lajja’s excitement at being here and in such a splendid hotel had travelled to her crotch already. I barely had the bellhop out of the door after delivering our bags — handsomely tipped of course — and hung out the privacy-please sign (just being cautious), and Lajja was already coming up to me with that sexy I’m-on-fire smile, her eyes warm and inviting, her lovely lips slightly parted. She’d worn a button-down shirt tucked into smart slacks on the flight, and already the slacks were gone, and the panties and the bra. The shirt was short as it is, not even below her navel, and now she had its ends looped together below her breasts. I’d have been insane to resist her.

“Randy bitch,” I grinned. “Just can’t wait, eh?”

“God, now don’t say no! I’m already wet!”

“Whore,” I said cheerfully. “Of course you’re already wet. And of course I’m not saying no!”

She flung her arms around my neck and there was that sexy lingering kiss, her tongue slithering into my mouth, her hand working my cock through my pants. They were gone in seconds, my jock-strap following and, instantly, she was down in a squat on her toes in front of me, feverishly sucking my cock, moaning almost in relief. I groaned, loving the sweet warmth of her mouth and the wickedness of her tongue playing on my rigid cock and bursting cock-head.

We fucked on the big springy bed. I got on my back and, seemingly unwilling to stop sucking my cock, Lajja bent her head over my lap and took my cock in her mouth yet again. I groaned softly, closing my eyes and surrendering to the wondrous warmth of her mouth, the gentle softness of her lips, her eager, flickering tongue and sharp teeth. I stretched a hand to her head and caressed her face, savouring the feel of my fingers on her lips, and of my cock between her lips. I craned my head to watch her, and was enchanted by the sight of her head rocking up and down over my lap, her slender fingers curled lovingly around my cock-shaft. She moaned deep in her throat and then opened her mouth wide, and I saw her lips and cheeks were sticky with my pre-cum. She lapped it lasciviously. Another moan and she moved up, encasing my cock in the delightfully soft valley between her luscious, swollen breasts, squeezing them over it. I could feel her nipples raking my skin. My cock-head bobbed at her chin and she bent her head and wound her tongue over it. I stretched one hand to her breasts, enjoying their weight and ripe fullness, snapping her nipples back and forth with my thumb, and, with the other, pushed her head back down to my cock.

“Keep sucking!” I growled. “C’mon, slut, suck hard!”

Lajja moaned and took my cock greedily in her mouth again. I groaned and fell back, spreading my legs and now fucking her face: I held her head in both hands and moved it rapidly up and down and, at the same time, pumped my hips under her mouth. It felt incredibly good.

I had no intention of stopping her. If she wanted to fuck, that was fine; if she wanted me to cream in her face, that was good too. Her call.

She wanted to fuck. Unbidden, she stopped and moved up over me, straddling my lips and quickly easing her cunt down onto my rigid pole with a loud groan. I held still, my legs spread and stretched out. Kneeling on my lap, her torso upright, she flung her head back and groaned.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!” she gasped.

I watched in fascination as she fondled her breasts, lifting and squeezing them, then bending her head to lap at one nipple, then the other. She began to move on my cock, up and down and back and forth, mashing her clit with my cock.

“OHHH uh yes! C’mon! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she cried.

I was going to do nothing of the kind. I held still, forcing her to do all the work.

“C’mon, you bastard! Fuck me!” Lajja was feverish now.

Still I did nothing, just held her waist gently. She gave up trying to goad me and went for it on her own. I drew my legs up slightly behind her to be able to stave off my own orgasm — in this position, the pressure of her cunt on my cock was intense. Gasping and moaning, crying out loudly, she bucked faster and faster on my cock as I ceded complete control to her. Her breasts bounced. Her gold necklace tossed wildly. Her cunt ran up and down the length of my cock. She went faster still and, with a loud moan, leaned forward over me, her arms outstretched, her hands on the bed on either side of my chest. Now her buttocks were plunging furiously up and down, swaying back and forth, writhing from side to side, getting more and more frantic with each second. Her breasts bobbed and bounced over my face. I squeezed them hard and, still holding firm, grabbed her buttocks and began to force her hip movements, deliberately going rough and nasty. She cried out again and I arched my head and sucked sharply on one breast, then the other.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!” she cried, bucking up and down on my cock, her swollen breasts bouncing, her gold necklace tossing on her lovely, flawless skin. “Oh fuck yes oh god yes oh god oh god yes!”

I squeezed her breasts hard and pulled her down and sucked hard on them, biting her stiff nipples. She cried out, clenching my head. I gripped her hips and held her aloft and started whipping my hips hard up and down under her, thrilling at the sharpness of her cries.

“C’mon! Take it!” I cried. “C’mon, Lajja, you whoring bitch! Take my cock! Oh yes oh fuck yes c’mon! Yes! OH fuck oh yes oh fuck yeh!”

“OHHH uh OH uh OH uh Oh uh OHHHH uh OHHHHH!” she cried.

I could feel her orgasming and I groaned at the fierce convulsions of her cunt on my cock. Her orgasm waned and I let her collapse on me. I held her for a bit and then slid her off me. I hadn’t come, just about managing to hold back.

“Why … why didn’t you cum?” she moaned, still panting.

I slapped her bottom. “Saving myself to give you a nice splashy facial, slut,” I said cheerfully. “I have to go soon. I’m going to take a shower. You coming?”

Of course I still had a raging erection and was seconds away from an orgasm. I forced myself to focus on the work ahead and, of course, it worked like magic. My cock deflated at once and returned to normal under an icy cold shower. Lajja stepped in a minute later and I turned up the temperature and let her lather and rinse me. It’s a lovely feeling, that.

“Tonight,” she said as I stepped out of the shower, “we’re going to fuck in the bathtub. It’s nice and big.”

“Actually it’s a jacuzzi,” I grinned.

“Even better!” Lajja said, laughing in delight.

I dressed and collected my papers and laptop. She came out dressed in one the hotel’s bathrobes, looking absolutely gorgeous. I had half a mind to jump her again and finish off what I’d left incomplete. But time wasn’t on my side right then, but it would be, later. I promised to be back soon and take her shopping. She said she would relax a bit, go down to the gym for a workout maybe, sleep a bit.

I returned a couple of hours later. I’d called ahead on my cell phone so she was ready when I got back to the hotel. I changed into casuals and we stepped out. I was lucky to half the rest of the day — and the whole of the next — free to be with her. We had lunch out, and I showed her some of the sights and then took her shopping. We ventured into the sleazier markets and picked up some interesting sex toys — several vibrators, dildoes, butt plugs, Ben-Wa balls, lotions and creams, sheaths and cock-rings — and a couple of hardcore DVDs. There were all kinds of aphrodisiacs and enhancers on sale, too. I’ve always been reluctant to try them — who knows what goes into them, what side-effects they’ll have. But the guy was very persuasive and Lajja was quite taken in by his pitch.

“Just try it,” she whispered. “It might be fun!”

The guy didn’t miss it, either, saw that he had piqued her interest and went into overdrive, making more and more absurd claims. Finally, I succumbed, grumbling light-heartedly, and bought two vials.

“Just two drops in a drink,” the man said, grinning wolfishly. “And you will have magic!”

We came back to the hotel about six and promptly started off, not waiting even to take off our clothes fully. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened out my pants and started sucking my cock hungrily. With the pent-up excitement of the morning, I was soon rock-hard and throbbing. I opened out her blouse and unsnapped her bra as she sucked me, took off my shirt. Fuck, her mouth felt good on my cock! I linked my hands behind her head and fucked her mouth greedily, pushing my cock in and out, pumping my hips to and fro, moving her head back and forth.

“Suck, slut! Suck hard!” I gasped. “Oh fuck yes! Oh yeh! That’s it baby! C’mon! Suck! Ahhhhhhh yes! Oh fuck yes!”

I was soon desperate to bury my rod in her hot, wet flesh. I pushed her on her forearms and knees on the bed, her knees at the edge, calves and feet hanging over and, standing on the floor behind her, bent over and started tongue-fucking her cunt — and her ass. She moaned, shuddering in pleasure, her hips swaying erotically. I parted her butt-cheeks and swept my tongue over the puckered flesh of her anus. I knew I could fuck her up the ass any time I wanted — she would never say no. She never did, and neither did Mala or her sister. Fuck, it was a turn on! I pushed two fingers into her cunt and began masturbating her heavily while I continued rimming her ass.

She moaned, sinking her shoulders to the bed, her face turned to one side.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” she went. “Please … fuck me … please please please … shove your cock into my cunt baby … please … oh god I’m so hot!”

Finally satisfied that I had her in the state that I wanted, I straightened and made her turn around — still on all fours — and pushed my cock into her mouth again.

“Yeh, that’s it!” I cried. “Suck hard, slut! Suck my cock! Ahhhh yeh … c’mon! Oh fuck yes!”

I squeezed her pendulous breasts, enjoying their swollen weight, pinching her long nipples, and rummaged in our shopping parcels for the largest vibrator we’d just bought. I ripped open the packaging and slipped in the two battery cells. The vibrator was about eight inches long, very thick, shaped like a big black circumcised cock with thick ridges along the shaft. Almost like the real thing. Stretching my hand down Lajja’s slender, curved back, I pushed it between her legs. She opened them eagerly and I pressed the vibrator into her cunt. Her moan was muffled by my cock filling her face. I pushed the vibrator in deeper and began masturbating her with it. Her hips shook and swayed and her body rocked back and forth in front of me; it was just as if there were two guys fucking her simultaneously.

I turned on the vibrator, moving the switch to full. Lajja went rigid and her fingers dug into my thighs and her head snapped up and her face contorted in agonised delight, her mouth tearing open. I pushed my cock back into her mouth at once. She gagged, moaned, but obeyed. I began running the vibrator in and out of her cunt, keeping it in the full mode. Her muffled moans were loud.

She was on the brink of an orgasm when I stopped, pulling my cock from her mouth and the vibrator from her cunt.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” she sobbed, panting and gasping, waiting for my command.

“From behind, whore,” I said and, obediently, she turned around yet again and shuffled her knees apart.

I positioned my bursting cock-head at her cunt-lips and, holding her hips, rammed myself greedily into her in one deep, piercing, savage thrust. She shrieked softly, her head snapping up, the cry tearing from her throat. Her cunt was in convulsions on my cock.

“Take it, slut!” I cried. “Oh fuck yes, fuck you’re cunt’s so fucking tight yeh take it! Chul, rundi, chul!”

I kept running my cock savagely in and out of her cunt, hammering my thighs at her buttocks. Her body swung back and forth before me. Her breasts swung heavily with my thrusts. I squeezed them hard, then held her hips and began jerking her back and forth hard on my cock. She moaned loudly and turned her face over one slender shoulder. I leaned forward, kissed her deeply, pushing my tongue into her mouth, at the same time squeezing her breasts.

“Fuck you’re good,” I gasped.

“So are you,” she moaned. “You … just don’t … fuck me often … enough … ahhh … c’mon … do it, baby … do it to me … fuck me … ahhhhh yes … that’s it … oh fuck your cock feels so good in my cunt! C’mon! Take me!”

I went back to it with renewed vigour, plunging deep in and out of her cunt, exulting at her lust-laden moans and cries. She orgasmed wildly and I let myself go, too, thrusting hard into her again and again and finally, buried deep in her cunt, emptied myself into her flesh.

We rested for a bit, showered and strolled out for dinner. We kept it light — there was more fucking ahead of us — and returned around ten. Lajja got into a thong and a ridiculous bikini bra; I pulled on my jock-straps.

“Want to watch a porn flick?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “The gang bang one. The one with lots of those yummy black studs.”

Lajja loves those and likes to fantasize that the girl in them is her, especially if the guy is big, muscular, black and hung like a horse, better still if there is a really good gang bang. It turns her on like nothing else. I set the DVD going and she sat on the sofa with her legs spread while I happily licked her shaven pussy to my heart’s content. I kept tormenting her by not letting her come, stopping just in time so that she was soon just a quivering mass of lust. Just when the porn film came to a point where this gorgeous brunette was blowing a huge black guy I stopped and made Lajja suck my cock. She fell to it feverishly, sucking like her life depended on it. I kept her going, rocking her head back and forth in my hands, fucking her face to my heart’s content.

The movie scene moved to the guy starting to fuck the girl and I did the same with Lajja, following their positions on screen as much as I could (of course I had to fast foward bits because I can’t hold out like those studs!) I began by fucking her on her back on the couch, kneeling upright between her knees and thrusting my cock heavily in and out of her cunt. She flung her slender arms over her head, clutching the opposite arm rest and jerked heavily under my thrusts, her big swollen breasts bouncing sexily, the long nipples standing up hard and stiff. Her face was turned to the screen and she was incredibly aroused. She kept begging me to fuck her harder. I skipped a bit and the second position was with her sitting on my cock with her back to me. She bucked eagerly up and down on my cock, getting more and more frantic and more and more loud. The last bit was from behind and for this I dragged her around the sofa and made her stand on the floor and bend over its back while I entered her really hard from behind and began ram-fucking her. I was pretty gone by this time and hardly able to hold out. I fast forwarded much of this and when she began protesting, I called her names, fucked her even harder, and, in anger, switched it off. I was wild with lust and annoyance now and told her to shut up and right away pulled out of her cunt and pressed my cock to her asshole. She stiffened for a bit but quickly let me in for she loves being fucked up the ass. I grabbed one of the vibrators and shoved it into her cunt at the same time and switched it on full power. She went crazy, writhing and thrashing frantically as I pounded in and out of her ass while the damn vibrator buzzed furiously in her cunt. Her orgasm was thunderous, long and very loud. I managed to let it pass and then pulled out of her, jerked her to her knees and pushed my cock into her mouth where I came within seconds. She moaned and swallowed my cum. We fell to the floor, exhausted and breathless and she said that it was an incredible fuck and asked if I would please fuck her again after we recovered? She’s an amazing piece of ass. Of course, I woke up half way through the night with a raging hard-on and did fuck her again, but it was slower this time.

We slept late, till 10, then showered together — yet another quick fuck — and went down refreshed and relaxed for a leisurely brunch. An idea struck me.

“Laj?”

“Hm?”

I kept my tone very cool, very casual. “Ask you something?”

“Hm?” She was slurping her chocolate shake.

“Would you consider letting my Hong Kong business associate fuck you later this afternoon?”

Still with the straw between her lips, Lajja lifted her eyes to me and I could see they were twinkling with mischief. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Have you planned this all along?” she mumbled.

“No,” laughed. “I have to meet Ravi tomorrow, but it just occurred to me. Would you?”

“Would it help your deal going through?”

“No, not at all. The deal’s already on the table. It’s just the details. There’s no possibility of a rollback at this stage. We’re both in touch with the Australian principals — actually that’s why we’re here. It’s just simpler for me to be here than for eight of them to be in Bombay.”

“And you know Ravi well?”

“Well enough. Decent chap. Got to know him well over the past few months.”

She finished her drink and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Has he fucked Mala?”

“No,” I grinned. “They haven’t even met.”

That seemed to ignite a spark in her eyes. I’ll never understand these women. I waited for her response.

“What’s he like? Physically, I mean?”

I laughed softly, knowing what her answer was going to be. “Quite a stud. About six-two or so, very fit and hard-bodied, works out like a beast. Bachelor, lives alone in a stunning studio apartment. Seems to be quite the ladies man. Of course I don’t know about his equipment …”

“That’s a chance I’ll take,” she said softly and her eyes were glittering. “Gosh, this is so erotic! I’m wet just thinking about it!”

“Good girl,” I grinned.

“And will you join in, too?”

“Maybe. Let’s just play that by ear, shall we?”

“Fair enough.”

“Hang on, let me call him now.”

I phoned Ravi and asked if he was free that day (Sunday) and would like to meet. Ravi has been in HK for five or six years. He’s a bachelor and quite a stud and ladies’ man, with a good, dark, well-muscled body — I know he works out hard for 90 minutes every day without fail. He said he was free and would love to meet. I didn’t tell him I was with Lajja. He invited us over at four to his bachelor pad, a really lovely studio apartment in one of HK’s towering high-rises with a stunning view across the harbour and Kowloon.

When we got there, he was visibly surprised to see Lajja, who had dressed up properly for the occasion in a dressy sari, her hair in a bun, long mangalsutra, bindi and kajal. She looked absolutely lovely. Lajja wears her saris just like Sonu (Mala’s sister), extremely sexily, Guju front-pallu style, with low-necked, low-backed, low-shouldered blouses that are short and tight and with no buttons, just a knot in front, and the sari itself slung well below the navel. I could see Ravi appreciating Lajja’s make up and dress.

Before he could greet her as Mala, I jumped in and introduced her straight away as Mala’s cousin, Lajja. For a second, I saw the surprise in Ravi’s eyes, then some confusion and doubt, then a glimmer of unbelieving understanding, just a suspicion really. Again, before he could ask if Mala knew about all this, I snapped open my cell phone, called Mala and had her speak with Lajja. Then Mala said she wanted to have a word with Ravi. I don’t know what she said, but soon he began grinning and laughing in delight.

When he finished, he gave the phone back and said, “You lucky dog! You never told me!”

I laughed happily. “Now you know, and when you visit Bombay next time, you can know more for yourself! There’s Mala and her sister waiting for you!”

Ravi had arranged high tea with wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches. It was refreshing and very pleasant. We watched the evening and the sunset and then Ravi opened up his corner bar which is very well-stocked and put on some soft music. Now that Ravi knew what the score was, it didn’t take very long: he asked Lajja to dance and, given his choice of music, it had to be a slow dance. I could see she was quite attracted to him and, before long, they were swaying to the music with her arms around his neck, his on her waist and hips. I sat and watched. His hands went down to her buttocks and they began to kiss. He began caressing her openly, moving his hands under her sari to her breasts while she slowly unbuttoned his loose shirt and peeled it open and caressed his superbly muscled, V-shaped torso. Her sari was trailing and now it unravelled and she was only in her sheer petticoat and tight blouse.

He wanted to move to the bedroom, assuring us that it also had a great view, which it did. There, Lajja was soon naked except for her jewellery, and, within minutes, on her knees in front of him, opening out his trousers and taking out his cock which was quite long and thick (about eight inches fully erect). I sat quietly in a chair, my shirt open, watching them, not willing to interrupt Ravi’s pleasure. He was loving every minute of it, groaning and grunting as he fucked Lajja’s lovely face, moving his hips back and forth, pushing his cock in and out of her sexy mouth. She was getting hotter and hotter with the cock-sucking, hissing and moaning thickly and started to finger-fuck herself and to work her breasts with her free hand. After a long time, he stopped her and they moved to the bed.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, kissing him hard. “Fuck me hard, Ravi, fuck me like a slut! C’mon, do it!” Then she spoke in Hindi to him, saying “Chul, bhadve, chodh mujhe! Jorse chodh! Rundi ki tarah chodh mujhe, jorse!”

As expected, the words aroused him. He jerked her legs apart and entered her in a rush, thrusting deep into her and making her gasp and cry out and arch under him. Her moan aroused him. Her legs went tight under his buttocks and she pulled him in deeper into her cunt.

“Hanh! Aise! Aur jorse! Phaad de mere chuth ko!” she gasped. “Lootle meri izzat, Ravi!”

He began fucking her hard and she cried out joyously, thrashing on the bed under his pounding, her body jerking, tits bouncing, her face flipping sexily from side to side. I thought he was rushing it too much and spoke up at last and sharply told him to take it easy — he had all the time in the world to enjoy her. At that he regained a measure of control and acquired a smoother, steadier rhythm. Now he was fucking her for his own pleasure. He reared upright on his knees, grabbed her ankles and lifted her legs high and wide so that she was pinned on her back to the bed. His hips swung swiftly back and forth with a smart snap of the hips and I could see his big cock crushing wetly in and out of her cunt. On the bed, Lajja whimpered, her hands working her breasts slowly in deep lust. Ravi went faster and faster, now responding to her calls in a similar manner.

“Chul, rundi, chul!” I heard him say. “Lele mere lavde ko, rahnd! Lele!”

He bent over her on outstretched arms, his muscles rippling powerfully, his hips rising and falling faster and faster. I could see his cock plunging in and out of her cunt and I thought of Mala and Sonu back home and how they must be doing pretty much the same thing with one of the naukars. It was a very erotic vision.

On the bed, they had changed position and now Lajja was mounting him, slowly lowering her cunt onto his cock, going down in a deep squat (not just kneeling). She was obviously very, very hot. Her moans were loud and loud and she began bouncing on his lap, running her cunt up and down on his cock-shaft, her breasts jumping, her mangalsutra flying. He squeezed her breasts hard. A little later, he made her move onto her knees, held her up by the waist and began hammering his hips furiously up and down under her. I could hear his thighs slapping loudly at her buttocks and her loud, broken cries. Her breasts jiggled heavily.

Though she had asked me to join in, I decided, seeing how much they were enjoying themselves, to stay out for now. I only mentioned to Ravi, when they broke apart again, that he should not forget to sample her up the ass. He looked at me in grateful wonder and surprise at that and I knew that he would definitely sodomize Lajja.

“And she drinks cum,” I grinned, just for good measure. “Loves a splashy cum down her throat and over her face and tits, this one! In fact, they all do!”

“Is that right?” Ravi said with an animal growl. “Okay, whore, let’s do it!”

He flipped her over onto her front, pushed her shoulders steeply down onto the bed and got astride her butt in a deep squat. His cock ran into her cunt like a spear and she cried out softly, her slender fingers tight on the sheets. He threw his head back, growled, and began ram-fucking her furiously, pounding his big cock in and out of her cunt. On all fours beneath him, Lajja cried out her pleasure. Several minutes later, he dropped to his knees behind her and took up a steadier and more unhurried rhythm, holding her hips and rocking her body back and forth on his cock. Now she was on her forearms and knees. He went faster and faster in this position, now holding her shoulders and savagely jerking her cunt back down onto his cock. Her mouth was torn open and he pressed two fingers into it, twined his hand in her hair as if he was really riding a mare. Her breasts and mangalsutra swung heavily. He crushed her tits in his hands, rubbing the metal chain over her nipples.

His control was incredible. He just didn’t seem to tire. As I watched, he pushed her down flat on her front and stretched his body in a steep angle over her, balanced on his outstretched arms and knees. I could see his big cock half-embedded between her butt-cheeks. She lifted her butt slightly to give him deeper access.

“Take it, whore!” he growled and began fucking her heavily with a deep, skewering action.

Beneath him, Lajja whimpered, her face turned on one side, her fingers clawing at the sheets.

“OHHH uhh OHHH yes oh fuck yes oh yes ohhhhh uh ohma uhh oh uhhh OH yes oh yes oh yes c’mon Ravi … fuck me … fuck me! Oh yes oh god you fucker you fucker you fucker c’mon! Fuck me!”

He laughed in delight, plunging his cock faster and faster in and out of her cunt. I watched, mesmerized as it rose and fell, appeared and disappeared between the creamy lobes of her buttocks, glistening with their coital fluids.

“Now!” he cried suddenly. “Time to fuck you up the ass, slut!”

Again he went back to that deep-squat over her hips and fucked her cunt for a while longer. By this time, Lajja had already had two orgasms and was well on her way to her third. He stopped fucking her cunt and moved his cock to her butt. I saw him ease it in, groaning and gasping at the wonderful tightness while, beneath him, she gasped and shrieked softly, her face contorting, her fingers like claws on the bed. In and in he went, burying himself to the hilt in her rear channel. Lajja’s voice was cracked and hoarse and her breathing came in short, sharp, jagged, sobbing gasps. Positioned above her, Ravi began sodomizing her slowly and deeply and thoroughly, sliding his cock way out and then easing it in again, very slowly gathering speed. Lajja’s moans grew louder and louder and I saw her push her hand under her body, between her legs, and arch her slim middle finger — the one with the wedding ring on it — into her cunt, vibrating her clit frantically. She began to orgasm and he gasped as her cunt and ass bit down hard. Still he continued for a few minutes more and then he pulled out of her and was stand astride on the bed. Instantly, she turned and sat up between his legs, sucking his cock eagerly, pumping it in her fingers. He came within seconds, his thick, copious flood of cum spewing into her mouth and dribbling over her cheeks and lips and breasts.

Half an hour we took our leave, Ravi and Lajja kissing deeply at the door, she thanking him for a great fuck and he doing the same.

“I can’t wait to come to Bombay to come and fuck your wife and her sister,” he laughed. “This is incredible.”

“You just wait and see,” I said happily. “You will be completely blown away! And then there are the maids — some incredible pieces of ass in my place — and a couple of the numbers at the office!”

“Man, you are one lucky, randy dog!” he said. “I envy you and I salute you!”

Lajja and I returned to the hotel, a shower, late dinner from room service and then quietly to bed. We just lay close, naked, kissing and caressing, not fucking yet. That came later, in the middle of the night, when I felt her lips on my cock and was sucked to hard wakefulness. I had a meeting the next day and then we were flying out and we wanted this to be special, so I stopped, lit some perfumed candles, put on music and the porn DVD and proceeded to fuck her unhurriedly, gently, in every way that she wanted, for as long as I could, for as long as she would have me. She was still sleeping when I left for work the next day.

Main Squeezes

2006-01-17T10:44:51Z

Here’s Vinod, one of Mala’s latest “main squeezes” — 17 years old, hung like a horse and a wild sense of humour. He likes playing sex games, particularly dumb charades based on Hindi movie sex scenes. He wants Mala (or Sonu or Lajja, all of whom he has fucked in the last week) to dress up so that they look ekdum fillum-ishtar (just like film stars) and then he makes them do some dance, some sizzling number as best as they can.

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Vinod

Vinod never, ever wears underpants. “Beech mein aa jate hain,” he explains. “It comes in the way. Jab choosvana ka time aata hai toh saala lafda hoh jata hain! When it’s time to get my cock sucked, there’s trouble. This is the best — just pull down the zip, take out my rod and tell the whore to take it in her mouth! Yehi fit hai — bas chain khincho, lavda nikalo aur saali rahnd ko moonh mein lene ko bolo!” Can’t argue with that.

The ladies adore him. They laugh at his antics and pranks and willingly surrender to him. Sonu especially has a very soft spot for him (and that’s apart from the one between her legs!) Vinod claims that fucking married women, especially older married women, is a real high. “Aur rundi ka marad saamne bethke sab kuch dekh raha ho — kaise mein uske aurat ki izzat loot-ta hoon, kaise usko sacchi rundi ki tarah, gaali de ke chodhta hoon, toh aur bhi mazaa ata hai! And when the cuck-hub is sitting right there and watching everything — how I’m fucking her honour, how I’m fucking her like a real whore, dirty words and all — then it’s that much better!”

His stamina is quite something. On Sunday afternoon, he fucked Lajja’s face non-stop for almost twenty minutes and, believe me, it’s not every guy who can keep from cumming when she gets going. And she was really going. And then he started fucking her and, man, he really took his time over it. She’s really a beauty, as I’ve told you before, and it was a treat to watch. He had her on her back on our large, low coffee table and, grinning like a schoolboy, he crushed this monster cock into her cunt very slowly, making sure that her husband, Bharat, wasn’t missing a thing. A full 15 minutes later, he was still going, not missing a beat, just pumping in and out, in and out, in and out, his cock glistening. She was going berserk on the table, her tits jiggling, her face flipping from side to side.

When he figured he’d had enough of that he stopped — and started tongue- and finger-fucking her hard. Lajja went crazy, moaning loudly and begging him to fuck her hard. Needless to say, he was quick to oblige: now he got on the table with his hips at the edge and made her sit on his cock.

“Ab naach mere lavde pe, saali rahnd!” he said. “Now dance on my cock, you fucking whore!”

Bharat and Hitesh and I watched in awe as he fucked Lajja hard like that, holding her under her thighs and hammering his hips up and down under her. We could see her cunt going up and down the length of this shaft (by the way, it’s even bigger when it’s fully up) and could also hear the loud slaps of his thighs against her buttocks. She had one orgasm and still he kept going. Then he took her again (now we’re a good half hour into it) on the floor from behind and that was some sight. He sat on the edge of the table and pulled her cunt back onto his cock. He wasn’t moving himself, but, holding her waist, rocking her whole body back and forth — and quite savagely — on his cock, dragging her cunt up and down the length of his shaft. That was some sight — seeing Lajja on her forearms and knees, rocking back and forth, crying out desperately. At last he decided to get going and got off the table, but astride her hips, squatting, crushing his cock really deep into her cunt and started ram-fucking her in that position. The poor thing was quite beyond words now, just crying out and moaning feverishly. He came in her mouth of course.

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Wahid

Wahid, the new gurkha — the security guard — in our building. Slim, dark, and very heavily hung. Loves butt-fucks. Sonu is his favourite and they make quite a pair — her fair, petite body trembling and quivering under or over his, her lovely breasts jumping and jiggling when he pounds her cunt with his cock.

It’s quite a sight to see his big hands working her breasts, squeezing them and toying with her nipples, or him putting a finger — or two — deep into her cunt while he licks her slit. He loves doing that, too, and his tongue is heavy and long and thick. Sonu goes wild. The other day I watched them at her place. The audience consisted of myself, Sonu’s husband Hitesh and their young mharaj (cook) Roopchand. The mharaj was frigging openly and I noticed that he, too, has a nice big cock and, evidently, is no stranger to Sonu.

What I really enjoy about these sessions is the look on Hitesh’s face because, even after all this time, he has not got fully attuned to seeing his wife enjoy herself with another man. Oh, he does get excited, no doubt about that, but the jealousy is intense and visible. Sonu no longer cares — I think it arouses her also to know that Hitesh doesn’t like it, but in the circumstances now really can’t do much about it. Unlike me, he is an unwilling cuckold in many ways though he likes to pretend otherwise.

I mean, try and imagine it if you can: Sonu, delicate, pretty, petite, sweating and whimpering and moaning like a whore, begging to be fucked — and begging the Muslim gurkha at that! Her legs spreading wide in eager welcome, the guy’s big dark cock slowly crushing into her sweet pussy, her body arching in unfaked, obvious joy, her legs winding tight about his hips. Then she makes it worse by kissing him hard, her tongue venturing deep into his mouth and then she arches her back so that he can suck her swollen breasts.

“Ahiste chodh mujhe, Wahid,” she says. “Fuck me slowly, Wahid … Koi jaldi nahin hai … bahut time hai No rush … we’ve lots of time … OHHHHHHHH uhh hanhhhhhhh … OHMA Wahid uhhhhh OHHHHHHHHHHH unnhhhh OH un OH OH OH un hanh hanh hanh chul! Lele mujhe hanh! C’mon! Take me! Yes uhh oh yes uhhh OHHHHHHH!”

Their bodies are bucking together on the living room floor, Wahid’s hips plunging up and down, his dark cock glistening in and out of her cunt. He kisses her again and then looks up at Hitesh.

“Dekh rahe ho ha sa’ab? Dekh rahe ho na hum apki aurat ko kaise chodh rahen hain? Dekho toh, suno, suno! Suno uski awaaz, kaise tadap rahi hain, kaise bhik maag rahi hai! Kaise lagta hai, sa’ab, apni khandan ki izzat aise loot-te hue dekh-ke? Batao to sahi sa’ab! Are you watching, my master? Watching how I fuck your wife? Look, look and listen, just listen to her! Listen to her, chief, how she’s begging for it! How does it feel, master, seeing your family’s honour taken right before your eyes? Tell me, boss, tell me!”

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Ravi, the trainer-bull

And, finally, this is Ravi, one of Mala’s several trainer-bulls from the gym. Just look at the hose on the guy! It’s enough to put anyone to shame. And with that body! He’s very macho (even with that silly pierced nipple), but he and Mala really make a combustible pair. I can watch them endlessly. She loves caressing his body, tracing the contours of his muscles with her finger-tips, kissing and licking him delicately till she is down on her knees in front of him.

Not surprisingly, Ravi is a truly accomplished stud — great skill, incredible stamina (naturally, given his fitness levels!) and with a uniquely exciting ability to move seamlessly from the fierce, rough, demanding stuff to a gentle tenderness. Mala says that it’s an incredible feeling — one minute being hammered from head to toe and the very next as if she is lying wet, naked in the winter sun with the softest of breezes caressing her body. I have seen him explore every inch (and I mean every inch) of her body with just his tongue and fingertips, for over 20 minutes. At the end, she was breathless yet not out of breath, aroused but not frantic, just simmering with desire. She says she felt like one big mass of lust and he had set every nerve end tingling, made it come alive. He slows her down, makes her languid and languourous. Even her cock-sucking is slower and deeper. The whole thing is infinitely intense.

I make it a point to “set the mood” for them with appropriately soft lighting — mostly lots and lots of lightly scented candles — and music, usually something ambient with the sound of rippling water or waves. He doesn’t so much tongue-fuck her as caress her cunt with his tongue. She likes to suck him on his back, so that she can play with his cock, rub her breasts over it, lick his shaft up and down, suck on his huge balls.

When he enters her, it is sometimes a slow squeeze through and through, and he penetrates her very deep. It drives the breath slowly from her body and his inching forward is met with a corresponding arching of her body against his till, finally, their loins are jammed together. Then I hear my wife moan, her voice thick and laden with lust, and see her fingers clenching his taut buttocks, pulling him even deeper into her flesh.

“Fuck me,” she groans. “Please Ravi … fuck me! I want you! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

Ravi prefers to fuck her in the open, out on our terrace or on the balcony. On the terrace, he will lay her down gently on the soft turf of my little lawn, or make her mount him or take her from behind (their favoured position). Sometimes, he will act as if he is entering her slowly, just letting his cock-head pop into her cunt and then, suddenly and without warning, will ram in straight and hard. It keeps her guessing and off-balance and adds a nice edge of the unexpected to their copulations. He will then fuck her savagely for several minutes, holding her waist or shoulders and yanking her cunt down brutally on his cock. She cries out frantically, unable — and unwilling to stop him — and then, just as suddenly, he slows down to a gentle rocking. Mala goes wild with the intensity of lust.

The best times, of course, are when Ravi has both sisters together. It’s a real treat to watch them sucking his cock together, see one of them on his face and the other bucking on his cock. Vinod does that, too, but he prefers it if it’s Mala and one of the maids so that there is some element of lesbian sex in it, too — particularly Leela, who is Vinod’s favourite among the maids.