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“No more men, hmm?” asked Nalini. She seemed breathless and slightly disheveled to Sunil. She was peering into the computer screen. As usual, she was leaning forward and her breasts were hanging loose inside the nightdress.
Sunil involuntarily licked his lips and the gesture was not lost on Nalini, now ever more perceptive than she had ever been in her life. She quickly adjusted her dress to conceal her breasts as best as she could.
“Hey! No fair!” complained Sunil. “Show me,” he said. He figured there was no way he was going to make any progress with this woman without being brazen.
“What!” exclaimed in feigned shock.
“Oh come on,” urged Sunil. “You can be more open. After all, it is just a week or so for us to meet. Are you going to be this coy?”
“Oh, hello!” she replied. “We will meet in a public place,” she said with a definitive nod to indicate finality.
“Why?” asked Sunil.
“Because otherwise you will say no men!” she said laughing impishly.
“Why are you huffing and puffing?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. But then suddenly, she felt the need to rush to the bathroom and wash up – juices, some hers and some the professor’s. She needed cleaning up.
She was huffing and puffing because she had rushed to catch Sunil. A few minutes more and she would have missed Sunil, as he would have logged off. For several weeks now they had a set time at which they met each other. And both of them made sure they caught each other. The motivations were different. But she was also huffing and puffing because of where she was coming from.
Sunil liked the seductive, suggestive and explicit events that happened online between the two of them. Nalini liked the exploratory woman that her childhood friend had unleashed. And she was enjoying the sexual woman who stood unleashed. More particularly, she was enjoying the never-before levels of sexual enjoyment with her professor husband. And yet, when she met with Sunil, she felt innocent and naïve. She had truly been that way when they first connected. But now the cloak of naivety had rapidly evaporated in the heat of her unleashed sexuality.
In conversations nothing was forthcoming from her to Sunil. But her camera remained on while she taught the young men once to eat her out, then again to take her from behind and a third occasion to fuck her breasts; that last, just to figure out what it did for the guy and what it did for her.
She found it did lots – for the guy certainly and for her too. She found her sexuality unleashed. The erstwhile infrequent sex no longer did it for her. Nor did the one missionary style suffice. And of late, nor illegal bahis did the single partner do.
She was grateful to Sunil for unleashing so much of her own latent sexuality. Initially, the intention was to savor all this with him. But events had overtaken her. And as Sunil took note of that he tried to re-establish control over his ‘discovery’ – the “new” Nalini.
And so, the “no man” dictum that Sunil was trying to enforce.
“Sorry, I am late in logging,” she said, covering the view of her breasts with a light chiffon veil, the dupatta. “He caught me,” she explained.
His eyes flickered in recognition of what she meant. And he had said “no man”; and she had promised him that she would keep herself for him.
“You promised…” he began to register his protest.
“You promised,” she cut him off. “You promised that you would not interfere between what happens between professor and me.”
He had. In fact, that had been part of his voyeuristic plan. To get into her bedroom and get her to describe everything sexual. Now that his plan had far exceeded his wildest hopes, he had started to feel possessive about Nalini.
“So what happened?” he asked.
“Why do you want to know all that?” she protested.
“That is also part of the deal,” he reminded her. That was true. She had promised to tell him every detail.
“I was in the kitchen,” she explained. “I was clearing up the kitchen and he came up to me.”
She had been shy. He came up from behind and hugged her, his hands claiming her breasts. She struggled to get away. The professor squeezed the breasts, marveling that one of those globes would not fit in one of his hands. He lifted them, rotated them and pressed them.
“Mmmm!” she had murmured. But this, she did not tell Sunil. Nor did she tell him that she pushed back against the professor, finding his erection with her ass. She ground her perfect, round bottom on his cock.
“I asked him if that did he not have to get back to college,” she told Sunil, swaying gently. As she swayed her dupatta fell, unveiling her swinging breasts. As she looked into the screen suggestively, the heavy orbs swung. Sunil’s eyes riveted on them. He imagined the professor’s hands on them. He imagined his own hands on them.
“Then?” asked Sunil.
“Then he did something he had never done before,” she said, smiling demurely. “With one of this hands he reached lower and he stroked the entire area of my pussy with his palm.” She omitted to tell him that she had reached back and found the outline of the professor’s cock.
“I do have to go,” the professor had said. Through the fabric of his pants illegal bahis siteleri she managed to locate the head of his cock and her thumb and fingers squeezed on it. He managed to slide his forefinger easily into his wife’s pussy as she lowered herself, widening the opening to his hands.
They stimulated each other and quivered in lust. “We have never done this before,” she sighed achingly to the professor.
He had whispered into her ear, “No, never!”
What she did mention to Sunil was that they went to the bedroom. She did not tell him that the route to the bedroom was marked by her unraveled saree, her blouse, her bra, her panties and panting they fell on the bed.
He mounted her in a hurry. The professor entered in one swift stroke. He pounded into her establishing quickly the rhythm man and wife were used to.
“Did it last the usual twenty minutes?” asked Sunil, at once excited and jealous.
“No,” she replied shyly. “He was more intense and adventurous than usual.”
Fresh juices welled up within her and her cunt flowed freely once again, worsening the need to cleanup. But Sunil was not letting her go.
Her mind went back to the unusual behavior the professor had exhibited that day. After thumping into her, he pulled back. Leaving her gasping he withdrew fully. He hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder to give him more access and hammered his wife’s now-gaping cunt.
Nalini whimpered under the assault and felt her pussy turn to a pulsating, vibrating jelly. Just when she had thought she could take no more, the professor left her again. This time the vacantness was unbearable.
She screamed low in her throat when the professor returned to her cunt – not with his cock but with his tongue. He lapped at her furiously, his face quickly messing up with the aromatic flavors of her pussy.
His cock though missed her throbbing cunt and just when Nalini was feeling the onset of one more orgasm he left her, babbling like a mad woman. The professor dried himself with one end of her saree and entered her again roughly. He pounded her. The cock was on a rampage. Then the tongue. Cock. Tongue. Cock. She exploded in a huge orgasm, once with the tongue and then man and wife came together, drenching, collapsing in a quivering heap.
She had smiled lovingly at her husband the professor. She kissed him tenderly. He had become an expert. “What, professor sahib?” she said cooingly. ” Becoming an expert in your old age?”
She did not tell Sunil any of this.
But they were in some subliminal manner, connected. Her eyes, even across space and spanning the digital world, told him that canlı bahis siteleri there was much she was not telling him.
He closed his eyes. He imagined Nalini, his Nalini. Not the Nalini the professor had married. Not the Nalini he had found a few weeks. ‘This’ Nalini, his Nalini. Voluptuous and yet divine. Impish and yet innocent. Mischievous, yet naïve.
She was his. His discovery. Her entire new persona was to his credit.
He closed his eyes and wondered how he might have been adventurous. Images flashed of her breast-fucking the professor. Of her head bobbing between his legs. Of her on all fours and the professor mounting her as if she was a bitch in heat. Or perhaps she had been on top. Something.
Each of these visions he conjured up had a different reaction on him. Some made his cock harder. At others he felt deeply emotional and his erection seemed to wilt. He felt the need to revert to a physical release. It had comforted him in the past, it would comfort him today.
When he thought of her doing things to him he felt deprived. She was his; she ought not to do anything for the professor. If he did things, and she reacted like it was a chore, it affected him less. But if she did things to him he could not take it.
He felt tears welling up at the thought of her reaching out for anyone else than himself. She was his!
He quickly turned to a mental image of the professor sucking Nalini between legs and felt better. She could not help anything he did to her.
He felt his cock bulge in his hand and stroked himself. Slow, savoring the pleasure. Faster, as if he was fucking Nalini. Faster still, to bring it all to a happy culmination in which he poured into her, not one spurt wasted in his hands, in his garment. All into her.
He came in torrents at the precise moment he imagined her lower her breasts into his face as she fucked him down hard – a desire mimicked by his fist.
Sunil sobbed out her name as he came in a great thrashing of his body. “Nalini! Nalini! Nalini!” he sobbed out. His cock released huge gobs of cum and overflowed from his hands and soaked his clothes.
Almost immediately his cock wilted and shrank back. Sunil was wracked by sobs as he felt anguish and deep pain at losing the woman he had cultivated. He had not lost her to any one or a competing suitor. He had lost her to the woman’s own unleashed sexuality.
He sprawled back in release of sexual tension and his own unexpected emotions when suddenly Nalini appeared on the screen. He was startled. Hurriedly, he gathered himself. She asked, “Yes? Did you call me?”
It brought Sunil back to the present. Fortunately she could not spot what he had exactly been doing because as his need soared Sunil had turned off the camera at his end.
She was now back with him, called back by him. It was as if she had heard the cry of orgasm from his heart. Or had she?
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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