Erotic – Hot Stories

June 13, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – “F” Is For Female

“Fuck me verbally, Noel”

Over the years I have been asked, occasionally coerced, to perform various tasks, deeds of valor or otherwise, Some I have elected to fulfill, others not, for reasons ranging from personal preference to circumstantial inability. Never though have I been asked, up until this week at least, to fuck someone verbally. That isn’t to say I can’t or even necessarily that I don’t wish to – it is simply a dynamically unusual request.

Now when it comes to fucking people, one has to look at the deed firstly in its most basic and in actuality, rather comical form. Typically, one can expect to find one (at least) rampant male, hormones in free-flow having cornered, subdued or in the worst-case scenario – paid for a women, in whatever circumstances have drawn the two together. Having most usually removed her clothing, or if patently desperate, simply her panties, he then pinions her to the floor, bed, wall, rear car seat or chandelier and inserts, with varying degrees of indignity, his vastly over-rated penis into that natty little lipped sac between her legs. Grunting, jerking, slobbering – more often than not all three, he will then rut away with completely uninhibited delight seeking to reach a chemical plateau at which point his DNA-soaked sperm jam up and jelly tight before crossing that bridge at a brisk pace, to the woman’s ovulation-freeway. It is this transitional period, the male finds vastly to his liking.

During the “fucking phase” men are not known for their literate dialog. How many other ways after all, can one express the notion “Oh yeah hun,” “Take it deep babe,” or “Ride my dick slut,” without resorting to laughable clinicisms such as, “I say Julie, would you mind awfully if I shoved my rather engorged penis way up inside your devilishly hot vagina for just a few minutes?”

So immediately you can see we’re talking here a whole new creative ball-game. When a girl says to you “Fuck me verbally please,” she is wanting “communicative purpose,” “depth of shared emotion,” “experiential guidance,” at the very least, some innovative and passionate appreciation of her femininity.

So too is she entitled to that.

Sex via the written word.

The quintesential chat-room opening “What color panties you wearing luv?” might be seen as an example of this. In fact, all this ever achieves is to confirm the moronic status of the male participant. Think about it! Its hardly going to turn the girl on is it? – she already knows what color knickers she has on. It’s like most every other aspect of male sexual behavior – geared principally to the achieving of his own gratuitous satisfaction. Egotistical endplay in other words.

With regards therefore to the young lady who made the rather poignant plea for me to “fuck her verbally,” this is the very least I can do. Now whilst this is in the way of a personal reply and I composed this for her specifically because of the wonderful person she is, I’m sure she will not mind if I add the comment that what I write has relevance to every other girl on the planet, uniquely desirable as every one is in their own way. No two ways about that. If it were possible, I would be there with all of you and I would love you all equally. If when you have read this and hopefully having followed my (deliberately) obscurely referenced byplays at various intervals, you then close your eyes, you will realise that in fact I am with you. I always was!

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How exquisite you are! Have you ever really looked and realised the privilege it has been to be born female? Tonight, I will make you more aware of this fact than ever you have been. I will bring you to to the gates of your own temple.

How did we arrive at this confluence in our lives? It doesn’t really matter does it? Merely that I am here and that I want to share a gift with you that so few understand, let alone respect.

Ahead of anything, I want you simply to be aware of your body as you read. Feel how snug your beautiful breasts are cupped in that little bra. If you concentrate enough you will be able to feel your nipples, even as you breathe. Besides their naturally intended use, they utterly define your femininity. If you feel like caressing them, please do. Imagine soft lips, whether your child’s, mine or a future lover’s, drawing down softly in what is ultimately, merely a quest for comfort. A flared memory recalled fleetingly. The protective instinct and cradled safety of a mother’s arms down through the ages.

Even at this early stage, the slightest of physiological changes are taking place in your body. Besides the slightest swelling at the base of your nipples caused by blood transfer, the imperceptible increase to your pulse-rate and the delicate flush resident now in your cheeks, you know even without the confirmation of touch, that within, moves are most definitely afoot to facilitate my participation.

Marginally unsure of exactly what is to happen, you sit there gazing at me – a little girl of eight, a nervous teenager, an adult female on the verge of a completely new discovery….a pastiche of all these. The only two things you sense with any conviction – that you are ultimately safe and that you want what it is that I possess. The key to your complete sexual fulfilment. I know not how or why I came thus equipped, merely that I did and that much like the full-moon itself, circumstances inevitably fall into a precise alignment that was set in motion long before either of us were born.

I want you to feel warm. I need you to feel wanted. You desire my intimacy just as much as I desire yours.

Simply looking at you is enough of a treat. I notice the little things. The tiny smile playing about your lips betraying in part your nervousness as well as your fully understandable pride in your birthright. It promotes also just a hint of flirtatious tease. I know it, you know it! The small lock of hair you keep unconsciously flicking away from your forehead, as if it matters! Your pretty feet, one shuffling atop the other now that you have felt sufficiently relaxed to give those shoes a miss. That you may or may not have loved another before matters but little. This is tonight. With me you are the breathless, incontrovertibly pure virgin you always were and in my experience always will be.

Your pupils dilate slightly as I kneel in front of you and take your hands in my own. There are so many things I could say, but words are superfluous. You know how I feel, you can see that in my own pupils.

My eyes caress you – from the curve of your breasts, a hint of which you quite deliberately permitted by your choice of top, to the flair of your hips and the hidden recesses between your thighs. You are not offended by my gaze as there is nothing to be offended by. Never was my glance lustfully motivated, simply steeped in appreciation and wonderment of so perfect a creation. Some of what I feel, you sense and instinctively your hand rises to your own breasts before you realise what you are doing. Swiftly you drop your hand back in your lap.

Even as the blush rises in your cheeks, I gently take a hold of your hand and raising it with fixed deliberation, replace it beneath your right breast. I encourage you to once again cup yourself and in fact cover your hand with my own. Together we begin to caress the softness that God has given to you and you let slip the slightest gasp. Watching as you rub yourself softly at the behest of my own hand I am totally aroused myself. More than anything I want now to suckle you and to draw your nipples between my own lips. How easy it would be……and how ill-timed.

Edging closer, I lay you gently back in the chair and very gently take a hold of both your legs some six inches or so below the knee. I feel, rather than hear the sharp intake of breath and the momentary expression of concern that flits across your pretty face. You make no move to either sit-up or stop me however and I am happy for the trust I know you feel. Inclining my head, I kiss your knees and am aware immediately of your pleasured wriggling. Making deliberate eye contact, I pull apart your knees but the slightest angle.

Sitting there, you can hardly believe the moisture that is gathering in the main assembly area. Your panties you know are now quite wet and you are embarrassed perhaps that I may soon make that very same discovery. Casting a momentary glance down your bra you are stunned additionally by the quite visible effect the escalating arousal factor is having on your nipples. This of course is an opportune moment to take a gentle hold of them yourself now and to further stimulate them.

Parting your legs ever wider, I can see now the silky-smooth skin of both thighs and the event horizon at which they disappear beneath the rather tasteful little pair of knickers curving down with such promise in my direct line of vision. I kiss the inside of your thigh as your increasing angle of incidence causes the hemline to ride ever higher. One can readily forget the square on the hypotenuse. It’s the sum of the angles on the other two sides that interests me.

I slip one hand up to the limit of my vision. So inherently sexy is the feel of a girl’s panties, knowing the prize they contain, that for a moment I am lost in my own little world although I do not fail to hear that delightful little gasp as you shuffle in the chair, instinctively wanting to push down between your legs yourself. I begin to set up an intense vertical manipulation, forcing the soft and quite obviously damp material well between the folds of those protective lips. Visually, this action is as stimulating as it must be welcomingly tactile from your viewpoint. You are quite unable to prevent the embyonic moan that now finds its way to the surface.

It is the right moment to tell you how much I love being with you and despite my seemingly disrespectful actions, I hold you in incorruptible respect. I hope that you believe me.

It differs of course from occasion to occasion but there comes an instant during any sort of foreplay, that signifies the point of no return has been reached. It may be the very first kiss, the first fumble in the back of a car – something as innocuous as being kissed tenderly on the neck just below the hairline. In our case, it was simply meeting. No way back from that eventuality.

The chair has seen-out its usefulness. I stand and offering my hand, take yours gently. You know where I must lead you.

Inviting you to lay down on the bed with me, I direct you to lie on your tummy. Typically female, you secretly enjoy my emotionally controlling aspect here. You know exactly how vulnerable you now appear in that position and it excites you. You wriggle slightly – nature at play – merely ensuring a continued biological interest.

Patting your bottom merely kick-starts the hormonal flow – for both of us! Before you can even think “I wish he’d stop being so damn genteel about this,” I begin to push up that inviting little skirt once more. At the point your panties are fully exposed, I think that gasp we just heard may have been mine! So hot do you look. So hot do you feel! Playfully, I sit astride you near the base of your spine and then slip my hands beneath your shoulders until I am able to cup both your breasts. No physiotherapy ever devised was ever thus so jointly therapeutic. You murmur as you hold your arms outstretched. “Ohhh that is so nice Noel!” Considering this possibly one of the greatest understatements of modern times, I nuzzle your lovely neck and just whisper how much I have always wanted you. You turn your head slightly – enough let’s say for me to be able to lean across and kiss you soundly on the lips. I’m not even thinking of you at that moment I realise. In fact, my mind goes back to my being twelve years old. Ages and continents apart, in quite another time, I remember suddenly poor old Mrs Cherry. I don’t even know who she was. Simply an unutterably old lady – completely infirmed and in her nineties. My Aunt had taken her in and cared for her many years earlier. She was in her seventies herself then. Once in a while I would ride my bicycle the few miles from my home to my Aunt’s house where I would cut her tiny back-lawn – little more than hack-it really, with a pair of pretty blunt shears she used to hang in the rotted old garden shed out back. She always gave me half-a-crown…insisted I should have it, although I had only gone there to help her, as she had severe back trouble and could not crouch down for long periods. Never did I fail to look-in and see Mrs Cherry in her darkened annex as she lay on that decrepit old bed. The little room smelled of urine and approaching death, and yet she would take my hand and smile at me. I loved her. This one afternoon after I had done what I could with the grass, I was ushered in to her room of faded hopes and dreams. I looked down as she slowly sought my hand and near blind now, pressed something into it. It was a two-shilling piece. No gift ever carried greater sentiment.

She died that weekend and it is only now for some reason that I realise, that but for the overlapping vagueries of time itself, it could so easily have been her lying on this bed awaiting my touch and maybe some physical evidence of the love I hold. Maybe you are her, and we are destined to cross paths for all eternity.

The memories upset me momentarily and I hug you and kiss you needfully. You turn over and cradle me suddenly. I feel like such a little boy. You ask me if everything is alright but I assure you I have never felt happier. It is the truth.

I have a pressing need to remove your top and for some reason you sense my urgency. You let me undo the necessary buttons and then shuck the thing off as I pull down your bra straps and reach around to unhook you. Free of social confinements the sheer beauty of your breasts stuns me. I am no longer the master of your sexual destiny but rather a student lover in awe of his beautiful teacher.

As my lips latch upon your nipple you sigh and lie back. I suck deeper and feel you pulling me to you. Kissing you becomes a desperate need and I whisper words that no literate script-writer would ever be likely to have penned. One hand follows the southern freeway, past your belly button, across the flatlands and clear beneath the elastic border. There is no toll to pay. The odd gorse bush is no deterrent and my fingers reach the fringes of Nirvana. I sense I am a welcome visitor and not waiting for an announcement, slip inside where it is so warm and accommodating.

Beneath me, your hips thrust noticeably upwards, meeting my own downward and gently invasive penetrations. I need to see that which I can feel. You need to show that which no longer demands to be hidden.

Slipping your panties down, I am presented with that supreme architectural accomplishment that I have seen and thrilled-to so many times before. Yet it is uniquely different – it is you. The balance of power shifts yet again. Your emotions peel back upon themselves and as you lie there now, a vulnerable and dependent little girl once again, I am Columbus, Genghis Khan, Thomas Edison, Euclid – on the verge of a new discovery.

I remove my own clothes and none too confidently at that. It is simply the unfamiliarity not embarrassment that impedes my actions. Divested of your skirt you are equally naked and both physically and mentally prepped for what is to follow. I am still kneeling there between your legs when I realise you have gently taken a hold of my erection and even now are lovingly caressing it along its length. Distracted to the point of feverish need, I manage to stave off my blindly motivated procreational urges, preferring instead to let you suffer the indignity of having to make the first move.

I am made to pay for my laughably ill-conceived arrogance. How like me you prove to be ultimately, quite obviously realising the emotional connections far outweigh the physical ones. As if sensing the impasse, we lay now facing each other side by side – neither with any sexual advantage. From this fully neutral viewpoint it takes but the simplest of shared impulses to set in motion all that we both want. All that we ever wanted. We kiss.

Those millions of nerve endings suddenly hot-wired and sending frantic messages to all points of the compass are but one aspect of kissing. The instantly opened-up two way passage of emotional feedback, the taste of desire, the starter’s pistol – all this and so much more.

Did I place my erection at those beautiful lower lips? Did you? Does it matter? As I push gently up inside you…..nothing matters, simply being there! I study your lovely expression as you open your mouth in silent ecstasy – feeling everything I am doing to you. I take a hold of your hips and thrust up..harder now. Your eyes begin to cloud over and the moans gain volume. I kiss your breasts as you now arch backwards providing me with complete access to your wholly erect nipples. It is like making love to a furnace I am in control as I must be and between the kisses you so desperately seek I whisper words of a language that offers no grammatical perfection, no right or incorrect phraseography, simply an open-ended dialog of impassioned communicative bliss.

With your knees as wide as you can comfortably spread them, I am afforded such penetrable latitude that already I feel the onset of rampant seminal marshalling deep down between my own legs. Your condition has deteriorated. If this continues you may well be on life support pre-orgasm!

I am taking you now so deep and with such relish that you have almost passed-out. Only the wonderful smile on your face betrays that you are still aware of your surroundings. Even as I incline my head and once again kiss those ultimately desirable lips, I cum inside you with the force of a water-cannon. I do not withdraw. Rather, I remain inside you, feeling my discharge combining with your own orgasmic fluids. What is perhaps the closest and most binding of emotions right now is the realisation that I love you.

END

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April 2, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – Ken & Janet

Filed under: Erotic Hot Stories — erotichotstories @ 11:01 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

Ken stepped out his front door, and raised his face to the sun to take in the warmth of its rays. He took a breath, then went to begin the task of washing his truck parked in the driveway. He went into his garage, and came back out with a bucket, and an assortment of rags and sponges.

As he filled the bucket, Janet, his neighbor across the street, comes out to her mailbox on the curb. She takes a moment to admire Ken’s calves and thighs, as he bends over in front of the spicket. “A fine, chocolate brother like you is gonna melt on a day like this,” she calls wiping a bead of perspiration from her forehead.

Ken got a kick of flirting with Janet, and got a broad smile on his face. He turns his head to her direction, “Well then, you’d better hang around to sop me up,” he winks.

“I just might,” Janet grins and goes back to her house.

Ken returns to the task of cleaning his truck, bobbing his head to the radio he has on. Janet attempts to return to the task of cleaning her house, but can’t get Ken of her mind. Usually, she flirts with him, and then goes about her business. But today she can’t help peeping out of the window at him. He had on black spandex shorts, and a white, Y-back tank-top that allowed glimpses of his sexy ass– no shoes or sox. He looked way too good bending and stretching in the bright sunlight.

Janet gave up on her original plan. She got a glass, and a pitcher of iced-tea from the kitchen, then took a seat on her porch to enjoy the show. Janet watched Ken bend over to dunk his sponge in the bucket of water. Then as he rubbed it against the truck, the water would run back down his defined arm, or splash onto the front of his tank-top. Soon, Janet could see impressions of his nipples and chest hairs. She lifted the glass of iced-tea to her neck, and let the condensation run down her chest. The drops running down her cleavage were a refreshing sensation, but not as refreshing as Ken’s dick would feel in her pussy – which was starting to “run” on its own.

Ken was aware of Janet’s attention, and he liked it. Whenever possible he made sure to reach across the truck, so that his tank-top would raise up enough for her to see his ass. In monitoring her reactions, he noticed she would shift in her seat whenever he did this. When Janet came out to get her mail, Ken noticed that she had nothing on under her yellow sundress – which was little more than a comfortable lounge dress to Janet.

Janet liked to walk around nude in her home on hot days like this, and threw on the dress thinking she would only be outside for a moment. But, the sun being slightly behind her as she went to the mailbox, Ken was able to easily pick out the outer lips of her pussy as she stood with her legs slightly apart. He wished he had stood up and let her see the dick swelling she was causing, but the initial opportunity had passed.

Ken put down the sponge, and grabbed the hose to rinse the truck off. But before he started, he took a moment t catch his breath. He noticed Janet pouring herself her third glass of iced-tea. “Enjoying the show?”

“There’s not enough flesh in it for me,” Janet called back with a grin.

Ken nodded his head, and swiftly took off his tank-top.

Janet’s eyes widened at the sights of sweatbeads cascading down his defined chest and six-pack.

Ken grinned, flinched his pecs, and started rinsing his truck.

Janet slid down in her chair a little more, and put the glass that she had been pressing to her neck between her legs. Her dress was between the glass and her pussy, but the effect was no less thrilling. She slowly moved the glass up and down, letting the cold mix with her own warmth. At this point, she really wanted Ken’s dick inside her – and fantasized about him walking over, burying his face in her pussy and drinking every drop of her. As she watched his back glisten in the sunlight, she moved one of her hands off the glass and underneath her dress. She cocked her leg to the side, and slid her fingers along her shaven pussy – spreading the lips to make soft circles around her clit.

Ken tried not to drop the hose when he realized what Janet was doing. He had driven this woman to masturbate, in the open – as cars periodically passed by. His dick was fully erect at the excitement he felt. He didn’t realize just how visible it was until that moment. He looked down and saw that his dick was pushing his shorts three inches away from his hips. At the front, left corner of his truck, he turned to face Janet’s porch – this gave him the best view of her. He continued to rinse the truck, but got so into what she was doing, absent-mindedly began running his hand along his dick.

Janet’s head went back, as she inserted a third finger. She lifted her head to see Ken with a handful of his dick, in plain view of anybody driving by, and started cumming. She sat up and squeezed her legs around her hand to intensify the feeling, but never took her eyes off Ken.

Ken caught himself before he came on his shorts, and moved his hand away from his dick. Several cars had gone by, one even blowing its horn, but none of them broke the trance Ken and Janet had been in. They were lost in a lust for each other that neither of them wanted to find their way out of. They had an unspoken agreement to let their imaginations run wild.

He turned the hose off, and went into the garage to get towels to dry the truck off with. He purposely left the waistband of his shorts below his cheeks to give Janet a clear view of his dimpled ass. As he reached the garage, he heard a deep, hard sigh.

He had planned to blow her mind by coming out of the garage without his shorts. But when he came back to the truck, his mind was somewhat blown as well as he saw Janet was walking up his driveway with a glass of iced-tea and a clear wet spot on the front of her dress. “I thought you could use this,” she offered.

He looked at her a moment, “I sure can.” He pulled her dress, ripping it off her sculpted body at the seams. After a look at her, he used it to dry the door of his truck.

The sun felt good on her skin, as she moved behind Ken and picked an ice cube out of the glass. She put it to the base of his neck, and watched a stream form and run between his cheeks. Then she bent over, and licked up his back as far as she could reach. She set the glass down and rubbed her hands across his back, then over his shoulders and guided him to place his hands on the truck.

She picked up the glass and poured the remaining iced-tea down his back, then pressed her body against his – reveling in the heat of their bodies, and the cold of the liquid. As cars made their way about their driver’s business, Janet turned around and pressed her back against Ken’s. She slid down to feel his cheeks on her shoulders and set her empty glass down, then slid back up.

Ken turned, and grabbed her hand that had been in her pussy. He sucked her fingers one-by-one – Janet came again standing there. As he slid the last one out of his mouth, Janet grabbed his throbbing dick.

Without a second thought, Ken open the front door of his truck, started the engine, and turned on the AC full-blast. He opened the back door, and laid the seat flat. He pushed Janet, got in himself and closed the door. Janet was on her knees facing the back window. Her juices were running down her leg, and Ken slid his dick in her with no problem.

“Fuck me, mutha fucker!” Janet ordered as Ken drove deep inside her. “You been dreaming about this pussy, haven’t you?! Fuck it, hard!! That’s it, mutha fucker! Fuck me, hard! Gimme that dick! Give me that big, black dick!”

Ken was sweating up a storm, but he didn’t care. He had wanted to fuck Janet from the day she moved in the neighborhood, simply because she was sexy. But hearing her talk dirty to him, was beyond what he imagined. He didn’t think she would be passive, but he had no idea she was this aggressive. “You want it? You want this dick?”

“Yessss,” she cried, “I want all of that dick, you gotdamn mutha fucker!”

“Then take it,” he grabbed her hair with one hand, and her hip with the other. “Take this dick!” The harder he pumped, the more she urged him on. He was pumping so hard they could feel the truck rocking. She put her head down to floor, and rested it on her forearm – which gave Ken deeper access to her pussy, so he pumped harder. He could feel her juice coating his nuts as they swung against her clit.

“You like it nasty, huh?”

“Yes,” Janet whined.

“Huh, I can’t hear you!”

“Yes, I like it nasty!” she screamed.

And with that, Ken shoved his entire thumb in her asshole. “Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Janet’s head shot up, “You bastard!”

“You like that shit, don’t you? Say it, say you love this shit!”

Janet did love it, but she was too far into an orgasm to say anything. Her mouth was open, but only unimaginable sounds came out. Her pussy was flexing and contracting like never before, and she tried to squeeze every drop of cum out of Ken’s dick. He fought it back as long as he could, but several loads of sperm shot deep into Janet. All either of them could do was hold on until their bodies stopped riding their roller coasters of sensations – which was the longest, most enjoyable 25 seconds of their lives.

Ken reached to turn the AC and engine off, then got out of the truck and went into the garage. Janet stepped out of the truck, picked her dress and glass off the ground, and crossed the street back to her home just as Ken’s wife pulled into the driveway. Ken, with his shorts on, came out of the garage just in time to lift his daughter into his arms, “I missed you, baby!”

“Where were you just now?” Sam asks coming downstairs from the bedroom.

“Across the street, finding out what Theresa was going to get into today. You want something to eat, honey?” Janet asks as she tightens her silk robe and goes to kitchen to fix her husband’s breakfast.

END

Tags : Erotic hot storie, Celebrities, SEXY stills, Sexiest Women, boobs, Sex Positions, fucking

March 29, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – Lolling with Laxmi Ch. 01

Filed under: Erotic Hot Stories — erotichotstories @ 10:08 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

If you enter my office, the first thing you are bound to notice is my secretary Laxmi. She sits right outside my cabin facing the main door and has been refusing to be moved from there.

You will notice her not just because she is out there in the front, but because she has a personality and body which no one can ignore. She is petite and very fair, has large black eyes and jet black hair. She can say so many things with her eyes, just looking at you. That is why a shy person like me… But wait, let me not get ahead of the story.

The next thing(s) which you are bound to notice depends on whether she is standing or sitting, and whether she is facing you or has turned around. You know what I mean. Well, now let’s move on…

One Sunday afternoon, I was alone in the office. I had been away on tour for almost a week and had returned only the previous evening. Usually, when I work on a holiday – which I often do – I lock the outer office door and work in my cabin. I have a rather large couch in the inner area of my cabin to rest when I feel tired.

But that day I had left the outer door open on purpose for I was waiting for my secretary. The previous evening, when she was leaving, I had requested her to come on Sunday to attend to some urgent work.

As I sat there, going through the pile of papers on my table, I saw a shadow on my table and looked up to see my secretary Laxmi, peerping through the cabin door. As I looked at her she said, “May I come in, sir?”

“Please come in, Laxmi,” I said, “I have called you for some personal work today.” I said.

What I did not say aloud was that she was welcome any time. She was a watcher’s delight and, every day as she sat in the outer office, I watch her beautiful behind whole day through the one way glass of my cabin. I get to see the front view, only when she comes in :). Her presence always excites me sexually. I had sensed that she felt the same in my presence. However, matters had not progressed beyond flirting when our fingertips touched during the course of work, sending electrifying waves to my brain, which my wife says, is located in my groin:) When this incident happened, Laxmi had been with me for six months, minus the 1 month leave she had taken recently and had joined only a week back.

Now as she entered my cabin, her pallu slipped a few inches down from one shoulder. I realized that she was wearing a beautifully embroidered bra under her semitransparent white silk blouse. The edges of the bra and spaghetti thin elastic straps formed a beautiful pattern, and were visible through the thin transluscent blouse material.

“I learnt from the office staff that you often come alone to office on Sundays.” Laxmi said. “You wanted to meet me alone?”

“Yes. Please lock the door, so that we are not disturbed and then take a seat.” I invited her. She turned the key in the lock without a question and came and sat in front of me, resting her elbows on my tabletop and joining her fingers under her chin. This way I had a closer view of her white-clad boobs – one was partially hidden under the pallu but the beautiful pattern on the other one was now clearly visible at close range.

She saw where I was looking, and her eyes quickly looked down at her own bosom. But without making any move to lift the pallu back in its position she looked back with smouldering eyes straight in my eyes. She knew I was watching her breasts and she was clearly challenging me to squeeze them. With that glance, that moment I knew that she and I were going to be fulfledged lovers before we left office that afternoon. This immediately set things rolling.

“Laxmi,” I began, and surprisingly my voice had become a little hoarse, “You remember what you had said when you had come to me to ask for the month’s leave?”

“Ofcourse, I do. I rember how I blurted out to you the real reason for the leave. I had come when all the staff had left and you were sitting alone in your cabin that evening too.” answered Laxmi. Her eyes flashed electric sparks, and the silky smooth pallu slid further down her shoulder. This way, I had visual access to the pattern on the other round beauty too. “those days I was getting frequently pregnant, almost every time I had unprotected ….” She left the phrase unuttered “I wanted to get tubectomy done and wanted leave from the office.”

“That is exactly what I want to discuss with you today. I want my wife Pam to undergo the same operation, but I have some apprehensions. I want to know some facts about a woman’s sex life after the operation. Since I do not know any one who can give me first hand experience, I thought of you. Do you mind discussing?” I began. For a second, I thought she might tell me to consult a gynec.

“With you I am willing to discuss every thing about it. I myself had some apprehensions, and had discussions with my …partners.” I noticed the use of plural in the last word.

“I need information on some very intimate topics…” I said, feeling happy that she had not outright rejected the discussion.

“Sir, with you I am ready to share intimate matters.” My secretary’s answer was more than encouraging.

“Laxmi, thanks again. I feel very comfortable discussing my sex life with you. To start with, my wife too gets pregnant every time I have unprotected … intercourse with her.” I used the word she had left unuttered. Color started rising in her cheeks and I could feel the discussion was exciting her as much as it was exciting me.

“So do I.” she dropped her voice to a confidential whisper. But her cheeks were now a rosy pink and her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “I enjoy the direct contact of …” again she left the word unuttered again.

She announced in the conspiratorial tone again. “There is nothing more pleasurable than the direct feel of …” she again left the words unuttered but the meaning was not unsaid.

“There were times when I used condoms with Pam many times when we were young college-going students…” I was saying, but Laxmi had caught on to the real meaning of my sentence. She interruped with,

“Oh, so just like I did, your wife too had started before marriage?” she seemed to be excited by the idea.

“Yes, but it was only with me.” I said. A look of obvious disbelief came over Laxmi’s face.

I continued, “But the same can’t be said of me; she wasn’t the only one I had before marriage. I had other women much before I started with her. My first one was with a matured lady, when I was only fourteen years of age. Before that I had regularly explored our anatomy with a couple of boys.”

“Like you, I too started in teen-age” she volunteered. “But,” she then asked, “how can you be sure that Pam did not have her urge taken care of by some one before you?”

“I just know it.” I replied.

“How did it happen?”

“I want to ask you some questions about your sex life before and after the operation.” I interrupted, avoiding to bring my wife further in to this discussion, any more than was absolutely essential.

“Please do ask me what you want to ask.”

“Laxmi, I can guess that you had a very strong sex urge right from your young age, and you yourself told me you were having it before marriage; now has your sex urge decreased due to the operation? Because, that is one thing I do not want to happen to Pam. I need her every night at least once.” I said.

“Oh, no sir, my sexual urge has not at all decreased, on the other hand it has increased several fold. Because now I can have it any time, any where, with any one, without fear of getting pregnant. And I don’t miss a single opportunity.” Laxmi declared.

“Laxmi, tell me,” I noticed the words ‘any one’. I decided it was high time to take the initiative that in most cases, even a sexually aroused female wants the male to take. All of a sudden I leaned forward across the table and inserted my index and middle finger underneath her blouse and bra; I felt the soft yet taut, fair surface of her boob, but withdrew my hand quickly before she could react. Although my movements were a surprise to her, her body had reacted involuntarily and thrust her breast forward in anticipation. As I quickly withdrew my hand a gasp escaped her half-parted lips, it seemed more out of disappointment than surprise.

“I think an insect, most probably an ant, has entered your bra. But it moved deeper, before I could catch it.”

“My god!” she exclaimed, “what will I do now? What if the ant bites my soft breasts. You must have felt how soft I am there.” It was obvious that she was responding to my ploy positively.

“We will have to look deeper under your bra to catch it.” I said.

“Please look whereever you think it is necessary to look – but please remove the insect, please.” she begged and inserting her hand under her blouse bra began searching.

I got up from my chair and walked over so that I was behind her chair. She leaned backwards and looked at me with her head thrown back. I held her small but firm boobs in my palms and started feeling under the fabric.

“I will check both your breasts simultaneously,” I said, “so that it should not run from one to the other as I try to catch it.”

“This is a very good idea,” said Laxmi, “please take both of them and check thoroughly.”

I cupped both her boobs in my palms and started rubbing them gently. However, I did not touch the area of her nipples directly.

“Did you catch it?” she asked, “please catch it as early as possible.”

“I think the fabric is coming in the way…” I said.

“Then remove it forthwith,” she gave me full permission.

Standing close to her, and with her face turned up towards me, I noticed a tiny mole on her upper lip. Her lips were half parted and her breathing had become faster. My own breathing had become rather heavy in anticipation of the promise of the wonderful afternoon of sex awaiting me.

Suddenly I placed my lips on hers and put only a slight pressure on them. This again was not anticipated by her. In the brief second she realized that I was kissing her, her lips had already started reacting involuntarily by pressing back against my lips. The moment I felt the pressure of her responding lips I removed my lips, once again leaving her panting with desire.

“Sorry, Laxmi,” I said, “I mistook the mole for the ant. I thought the ant had realized that it had left your sweet lips untouched before proceeding in to your bra, and realizing its mistake had come back to taste the wonderful honey on your lips.”

“And how did you know my lips were sweet?” asked the darling fluttering her eye lashes.

“I just tasted them.” I said smiling.

“And how did you know what the ant wanted?” she asked again in a low husky voice.

“I think it is a male ant, judging from its eagerness to get into your bra,” I replied, “and I know what a male, any male would think about your body… exactly what I myself as a male would love to do with your body…”

“Then tell me what would be your… I mean the male ant’s… next move?” Laxmi invited me into further action. Without a word, I instantly moved my hands to her pallu and removing it out of my way, undid all the buttons on her blouse. My action was so quick, she was left gasping. Then slowly and deliberately, I pushed the two open front pieces of her blouse aside, and pushing them a few inches off her beautiful round shoulders, started examining her bra-clad breasts methodically.

An exotic perfume filled my nostrils. She must have applied it under her arms. I touched the skin between her clevage tentatively with my fingers and then moved them all over her bra as if feeling for the wandering insect. Blood rushed to her cheeks. I bent forward to get a better view and my cheek almost touched hers. A few stray curls of her hair which had come loose from her braid brushed against my cheek. Very tenderly I squeezed her boobs.

“Please check them thoroughly,” she whispered, “I am really scared of insects.”

Without warning, I caught hold of her blouse fronts and quickly and roughly pushed them back and down. She responded with a small yelp of excitement, saying,

“How violent you were after all the tender squeezing, I felt as if some one was undressing me to rape me…” But the manner in which she said it would have encouraged any prospective rapist! She raised herself from the chair, so that I could slide the blouse down her arms. In doing so her boobs jutted forward and outward. I took off her blouse it had the exhilirating mixture of the scent of the sweat from her armpits and the scent she had applied.

I caught her upturned chin and once again placed my lips on hers. This time her response was quick and complete. Before I had time to pull back, she started a very wet and passionate kiss. Losing control, I too started kissing back with equal fervour. Our lips curled against each other and tiny sounds escaped at intervals from our moist mouths. I started moving my palms over her shoulders, which were now naked except for the bra straps. I traced the straps down to the bra cups. Her boobs were not as large and as full as my wife Pam’s, but they were much more perky and hard. It has always surprised me that hard boobs have very soft skin. I moved my hands all around them and then squeezed them again. She let go a sigh of desire and slumped back against me.

I moved my hands down towards her flat belly and started circling her navel in a slow gentle motion.

She abruptly shifted away from me disengaging our kiss.

“Did you get what you wanted form my lips … the ant?” she asked with a smile.

“No, not yet,” I replied, “I think after tasting your lips, it must have gone deeper to lick your tongue.”

“It’s possible, but I have another idea. Supposing it was not a male ant, but a female one then…?” Laxmi’s eyes were twinkling as she too started contributing to this overt sex-play with me. “Then it could have jumped on you when you came close…now I am in a position to predict what any female would want to do with your body.”

“And what would you, I mean the female ant like to do to my body?” I asked encouragingly.

“If I were the female ant, I would have jumped on to your chest, when you held me so tightly from behind after taking off my blouse.” she replied, then added, “Now I will take off your shirt and see that she is not heading to nibble your nipples, for that is what I would certainly do if given a chance.”

With this she moved out of the chair, with a flurry of her dropped pallu showing me her beautiful slim feminine figure. Her behind was flared slightly at the hips. I had a full erection by this time, and she glanced directly at my trouser front while closing in with me.

After she had unbuttoned a couple of my shirt buttons, she inserted her palm inside and started caressing my chest, whilst she murmured, “The female ant must have got excited in the shrubbery here.” Now it was my turn to gasp with excitement as she lightly touched the auriola around my nipples. Her own lips twisted with anticipation as her fingers reached one nipple. I reached down and put my hand over her exposed waist and started caressing it.

At this she looked up at me; her light brown eyes were filled with a simple, pure, unashamed but innocent desire for sex with me; it may sound strange to call the desire for sex ‘innocent’ but that is the only word I can think of for what I saw in her eyes. As she confessed truthfully, she had a more than average sexual urge and she did not find anything amoral in having it satisfied from another woman’s husband in the office, or from ‘any one and any where’, as she put it, for that matter. On my part I too was just like her and whole-heartedly had sexual union with any sex partner who was willing.

“I don’t want to let the ant, if it is a male, enter your sari, while you are busy checking my chest.” I explained.

Distracted, she let go of my nipple and completed unbuttoning my shirt.

“Do you think it will enter my sari?” she asked, when the last button was off.

“You don’t know how very attractive your sexy waist is for a male.” I countered as my hand went further ahead into the folds of her sari. She responded by thursting both her hands on my chest and gripping each of my nipple between the forefinger and thumb of each of her hand. As she did this she raised her face and looked up at me longingly. The next moment we were kissing like mad. This time she opened her mouth and my tongue went into it tasting the salty taste of her mouth. Our tongues met hungrily, twisting and coiling against each other like two snakes making love.

I moved my hands holding her just above the buns and held her tightly pressing her crotch against mine. She too moved closer and pressed her crotch and moved it against my erection. I responded by dipping my hands under her sari at the back and top of her panties and felt the rising slope of her buns.

She disentangled quickly at that.

“Could it have reached there?” she asked with mock fear.

“I must remove your sari to know that.” I answered.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Well, if you were my wife, I would have had you fully naked by now. But is it not better to take permission, before undressing another man’s wife?” I said.

“Not when your intention is to catch an ant offending her modesty and on such an occasion you can make her totally naked.” she replied, smiling in that innocent way of hers.

With this I brought my hand to the front of her waist and pulled out the end of sari that was tucked under her petticoat. She twisted around so that I could unwind her sari from her torso. Soon it was lying in a heap on my table.

I ran my hands all around her and checked for the ‘ant’. Lastly, I cupped her buns in my palms and started caressing them.

“What if the female has entered your trousers…?” she asked. And without my permission, put her hand on my trouser belt.

“Hey, you are going ahead of me. That is not fair.” I said.

“How do you mean ahead?” she asked.

“See my chest is already bare, if you remove my trousers, I shall have only my shorts on me. Whereas you still have bra on and a petticoat above your panties.”

“Okay, then don’t waste time. Otherwise the ant will accomplish what it wants before you even reach there.” she said smiling naughtily.

I started reaching for the cords of her petticoat, but she held my hand and said, “First make me like you… bare-chested and check it all.”

“Fair enough.” I said and turning her around reached for the clasp at the back of her bra. But at the last minute I changed my mind and hugging her from behind placed my hands on the cords of her peticoat again and said,

“Laxmi, a sexy woman usually matches her bra with the panty, should they not be viewed together? Let me open your peticoat first.” I had started feeling her thighs with my hands as I said this. I could feel the smooth skin all over the front and back of her thighs through the thin silk fabric of her peticoat. But I was unable to trace the edge of her panty through the fabric! Was she not wearing a panty? Hurriedly I felt all over again, but no panty inside.

“Now I realize you are the expert in undressing females, only a man with lots of experience with women will know how we dress underneath” she surrendered, “do as you think fit; but catch the insect before it finds my p…”

“Actually, I think I shall change my mind and go for the bra clasp first…” I started saying, but she interrupted with a short laugh and said,

“What you are thinking is wrong, do open my petticoat first, you will get a surprise.”

Now I did not want to see her lower half naked before taking off her bra. I enjoy foreplay and wanted to arouse her before making her nude for a full-fledged session. But since she had guessed my thoughts and still wanted me to go ahead, I decided to do it her way. After all she was as much, if not more, experienced in these matters as I was.

Part 2

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