For the Sake of His Honor by Angrez

SWIMSTORIES

by Angrez
Summary: Gorgeous blonde makes tough choice for the sake of her man. Categories: Loving Wives Characters: None Language: English [ Indian ] Story Genre: Erotic Sub-Categories: Infidelty Series: None Chapters: 7 Completed: Yes Published: 2011.02.13 Updated: 2011.02.13

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

by Angrez by Angrez by Angrez by Angrez by Angrez by Angrez by Angrez

by Angrez

The clear warm waters of the Goa sparkled as the sun beat down upon them. The sky above was a beautiful blue with nary a cloud in sight. A gentle breeze rolled off the ocean, just enough to cool, not nearly enough to chill, and licked at the straw-thatched umbrella planted firmly in the sand, offering its shade. And stretched out across a towel next to him, a skimpy string bikini covering as little as was humanly possible while still not technically considered indecent, her skin glistening with the residual wetness of their swim minutes earlier, her luscious body the focal point of many horny men and envious women nearby, was his wife of five wonderful, sensuous, sex-filled days. Shalini was a goddess: honey-blonde hair, dazzling emerald eyes, fine features, a beautiful face, and a body surely touched by the angels themselves with round breasts and an incredible, inspiration-inducing backside. There are three types of women, as the old saying goes: smart women, sexy women and sane women. An individual female might fall into one or even two of the categories, if a man is lucky enough, but never is a woman all three. Shalini proved the exception to the rule: she was smart, brilliant even, an incredibly successful young attorney.despite being only twenty-six years old; she was sexual, very horny and very much a fan of excellent and inventive sex, and gorgeous; and she was sane, one of the most grounded and honest and open girls Harshvardhan had ever met, not to mention extremely low-maintenance. And she was his, completely and exclusively, and he had the ring to prove it. Their lives together were going to be very happy, with bundles of money and oodles of kids, and a big house with a white picket fence and a dog and an awesome pool and spa in the back yard. They talked about these things often and both were ready to get started with life. It was their fifth day on their honeymoon and their fourth day at the resort, and honestly speaking they had not done much on their trip thus far that did not involve the bed in their suite. They had hardly left the room, truth be told, barely coming up for air to breathe and food to eat, much less to spend time lounging around on the beach. But on day five they decided they would venture out a little bit more, get their money's worth, which is how they found themselves down by the edge of the water, soaking up the sun after a hearty little swim.

Shalini was on her stomach, head turned to the side away from him, the long sleek line of her back sliding into the lovely bubbles of her bottom before splitting into a pair of long and shapely legs. She was athletic, a former collegiate soccer, and managed to keep her body in tip-top shape despite working long hours at the office. Harshvardhan sighed: life was good. "Ok, honey?" his wife asked as she lifted and turned her head to face him. He could not see her eyes beneath the thick Gucci shades she wore, but he could hear the momentary concern in the sweet voice of his bride. "Perfect," he replied cheerfully. She giggled. "You're not sore, are you?" He chuckled. "Not at all, babe," he told her. "I can go for days. Why, are you?" "You'll have to fuck me much harder than you have been to affect my body," she said with a hint of challenge in her voice. "Are you sure you want that?" he asked ominously. She shrugged. "You wouldn't," she said dismissively. "You're too soft." Harshvardhan reached over and smacked her hard on the ass. A crimson hand print appeared instantly and Shalini shrieked. "Jerk!" she yelled playfully. "Just a taste, sweetness," he said with a shrug of his own. Shalini rose to a sitting position, her magnificent breasts on prominent and exceptional display and covered only by miniscule triangles of cloth, and instantly the target of the eyes of all men within range. She plucked off her shades, simply so that he could see the sudden fire burning in her gorgeous green eyes. "Prove it," she whispered fiercely. They both remained motionless for a long moment that crackled with tension, each of them contemplating the mind of the other, before Harshvardhan sprang to his feet and tried to grab hold of his wife. Shalini was too quick for him, however, and slithered out of his grasp. She laughed and chided, "Have to catch me first!" And she scampered off in the direction of their villa, breasts jiggling, ass bouncing, the eyes of six men and four women following, and Harshvardhan went after her instantly. Their villa was over the water, one of the most expensive and luxurious in the whole resort, with a full working kitchen, two bedrooms, a posh living room and a wrap-around balcony outside. The balcony was the best part: the villa was isolated already, but one could sit on the ocean-side of the balcony, gazing out at the vast horizon, and not see or be seen by anyone else, totally shielded from view.

It was there where Harshvardhan finally caught up with his wife. She was leaning against the railing, the beautiful blue waters behind her, her lovely body on wondrous display, chest heaving, skin glistening, sunglasses discarded, green eyes smoldering. Harshvardhan's board shorts hit the floor. "Are you ready for what I've got to give you?" he asked, waggling his semi-hard cock with his hand. She swiveled on her heels and stuck her ass in the air. "Show me what you've got, little man," she chided, loving how much he reacted to such statements. And Harshvardhan closed the gap between them then and pushed his five-inch cock inside her willing nether region, hard and rough, and hard and rough were the perfect words to describe just what he was doing to her: he was fucking her hard, rippling the flesh of her ass, and rough, spanking her cheeks with utter disregard. Shalini shrieked and growled at him, and whipped her head around to glance back at him over her shoulder, eyes like daggers. "Fuck me harder, you pussy! Fuck me harder! Spank me harder!" The railing of the balcony creaked as Harshvardhan thrust brutally into his wife, and he had a momentary vision of it giving way and the two of them toppling over the side, still connected by their genitalia, into the cool blue waters beneath, but his vision did not materialize. Instead, the sounds of their fucking filled his ears, a sloppy squishing coupled with her little whimpers and the smack of his palm upon her ass, and mixed with the gentle lapping of the waves against the wood of the foundation posts. And despite the fact they both were very well-fucked over the past several days, climax came quickly for them both, rising like the tides until it swept over their bodies. Shalini was the first to fall victim to pleasure, screaming at the top of her lungs, clearly not caring if anyone heard her. Her limbs trembled and her back arched, and the muscles of her pussy constricted around his cock. Which sent Harshvardhan into oblivion. He pulled out of her quickly and pumped his shaft once, just barely before he erupted. Cum hurtled from his cock, rope after sticky white rope splashing across the flesh of her ass, dribbling into her crack and over the compressed plot of her anus, trickling lewdly down along the lips of her vagina before dripping to the floor. Utterly spent, they collapsed onto the side-by-side lounge chairs on the deck, breathing heavily, reveling in post-orgasmic bliss. It was several long minutes of silence before either of them spoke. "Hard enough?" he asked with a grin. "I've had harder," Shalini said dismissively. "Slut," Harshvardhan laughed. His wife grinned. "Too late," she said. "You've already married me." Silence again, cut only by the lapping of the waves.

"I love you," Harshvardhan said seriously, turning to look at her. The smile on her face could have warmed an entire Alaskan village. "I love you, too, sweetie," she whispered back. "I never want to go back to the real world," he said with a sigh. "I want to sit on this dock and make love to you forever." "There's no room for children in that life story," she said softly. Harshvardhan looked at her. The two of them were both eager to have children, eager to start a family, and after two years of dating and nine months of wedding planning, neither of them wanted to waste any time. But the fire he saw in her eyes in that moment, the depth of her desire to be a mother, was one of the most powerful things he had ever seen in his wife. "Make love to me," he whispered, his eyes on hers. "Again?" she asked with a giggle. "Make love to me, softly this time, and at the end I'll finish inside you." His words were pointed and she understood their meaning instantly. She lowered her eyes, almost blushing. "Ok," she answered softly. And the process that would hopefully end with a beautiful bundle of joy began. Back to index

by Angrez

His strokes were long and deep and rhythmic. Shalini lay on her back, legs tilted back and high in the air, a pillow under her rump to prop it up in the perfect conception position per multiple books on the subject. She was naked from the waist down, but still had her shirt on. Harshvardhan hovered over her, arms on either side, his handsome face furrowed with concentration. There was little lust in his eyes, but lots of focus and determination as he pushed his penis into the depths of her pussy again and again, in and out, in and out, using the full five inches to go as deep as possible. It felt very good for Shalini, being penetrated in such a way, but her pleasure was not her ultimate goal at present. She was not seeking orgasm; at least, not yet. The timing was not right. The bawdy slapping of his hips against the cheeks of her bottom and the steady succession of grunts from his mouth were the only sounds in the room. Shalini herself was making little noise, beyond the occasional word of encouragement. "Fuck me, baby," she cooed. "Fill me up." It had been ten long months of no success. The honeymoon had started it; after multiple talks on several different Caribbean beaches, they decided together that they wanted children right away, and only twice in all the time since had Harshvardhan spurted anywhere other than inside her. They were determined, but frustration was seeping in. They even went to see a fertility specialist and a team of baby doctors, all to jump start the process which, until this point, had been a bunch of sex yielding little in the way of results . . . and recently even the sex had worn thin, as far as Shalini was concerned, becoming more clinical, impersonal, and routine than anything else. "Close," Harshvardhan told her, and she could see the signs of impending orgasm written on his face. She reached down and under and massaged his testicles. "Give it to me, baby," she purred as she fondled his balls. He began to tremble and moments later, she felt the gushing begin deep within her. His sticky fluid splashed across her interior walls, filling her just as she requested.

Harshvardhan collapsed next to her, rolling onto his back on the mattress of their marital bed, breathing heavily, but Shalini paid him little attention: now that his syrup was inside her, there were a list of things for her to do. First, she wiggled her hips around with her rump still raised in the air. This was to get the sperm deeper. Second, the longest part, she used her fingers to bring herself to orgasm, stimulating her clitoris as only she knew how. This was to get the blood flowing in her nether regions and activate the sperm now residing there further. Lastly, she raised her legs and set them against the wall, and held them there for several minutes to let gravity and nature take their courses together. By the time she was finished, Harshvardhan had already showered and half-dressed for work. He was an executive with his father's company; his father was an immensely wealthy and successful businessman in the field of electronics. "I can feel it, honey," Harshvardhan said cheerfully as he buttoned his shirt. Her husband was a good man and she was very thankful to have him, despite their recent difficulties regarding conception. "This month is the month. I know it." Shalini smiled softly. "I hope so," she said, and truly did she mean it. *** The phone rang just after she took the test, which meant there were still three or four minutes before she got the results. She hustled from the bathroom, tugging her jeans up as she went, and answered on the fourth ring. "Shaloo?" a hesitant voice asked from the other end of the line. "Is that you?" It was a voice Shalini knew very well, but had not had the pleasure of speaking to in some time, and at once she felt the long years sluice away . . . . . . to reveal the image of a doe-eyed college freshmen, dressed in the plaid and pig-tails she had been accustomed to in high school, lately bloomed and socially nave, far from home and family and fearful of what such a large and largely foreign university might bring . . . . . . and the gorgeous sophomore sorority girl, in vogue and indefatigable, fashionable and fabulous, who took the young freshman under her wing and taught her the ropes, schooled her on the ways and mores of the school, disclosed the many secrets of the opposite sex, and turned an inexperienced and introverted girl into a stylish, smart, sassy and popular young woman . . . . . . and then Shalini was taken to another place, a place of downy pillows and scented candles and silken sheets, a place rarely visited and never discussed, not even with her husband, the most shocking of her secrets, where memories of the taste and texture of soft lips and round curves and feminine flesh and places most sacred were long buried . . . "Asha?" Shalini asked hopefully. Asha Lodge was perhaps Shalini's best friend in the whole world, but it had been a long time since the two of them had spoken and she had not seen Asha since the wedding ten months ago. "Shaloo!" the woman squealed. "Oh my god, Shaloo, how are you?" Shalini sighed. "I'm ok," she said simply. "Wow, that was emphatic," the other woman noted dryly. Asha had always been a sassy girl.

"No, no, I'm good. It's just . . . we're having a little trouble getting pregnant. It's frustrating." There was sympathy in the voice of the other woman. "I'm sorry, honey. I know how difficult that can be. It took us eight months our first time out. You see anybody about it?" "We've seen a specialist," she replied. "He took some tests, gave us some tips. I'm going back to see him next week." "Good!" The other woman giggled. "And you're having lots of sex, I take it." Shalini was embarrassed by the answer, but she and Asha had never kept any secrets from each other and that precedent would not stop now. "It's been better," she admitted with another sigh. "I wonder if that's part of the problem." The giggles stopped and the response was sober. "Tell me more," Asha said in a very mothering kind of way. "There's no more passion," Shalini blurted, far more forcefully than she intended. "It's become so routine, so detached, almost like a job. He comes home from work, I get on my knees or my back, he fucks me, there's no foreplay, I never come unless I do it myself with my fingers . . . it's so impersonal." Asha was silent for a long time. "Is Harshvardhan taking any trips in the near future?" she asked finally. "Business trips or bachelor parties? Fishing trips? Anything?" "Actually," Shalini said thoughtfully, "he does have a conference in Phoenix he has to go to in a couple of weeks." "Perfect. Let him go and while he's gone, buy some sexy clothes and get a Brazilian wax, and when he gets back, surprise him and fuck his brains out. Fuck him like he's never been fucked before. Forget about babies and all that, just remember what it was like to fuck for pleasure. Rock his world and help him remember just what kind of a whore he has for a wife." Shalini laughed. "You always have answers," she said. Asha giggled again. "Especially when it comes to men and sex!" For not the first time, Shalini was grateful having someone like Asha in her life. She kicked herself for not calling her friend sooner. "Enough about me," she said. "How are you doing?" Asha sighed, but the sound was wholly different than those from Shalini. "Life is good, honey," the woman replied. "Dave is working hard and making money, the kids are getting easier, and the sex is still great. Life is really good." "I figured it would be," Shalini said. "You've always been perfect." "Don't worry, Shaloo, you'll find your way. It hasn't always been like it is right now. Life has ups and downs and changes all the time, but you'll find your little slice of happiness." "I hope so," Shalini sighed. "I know so," her friend stated emphatically.

"You know," Shalini said with another chuckle, "coming from you, I actually do believe it." "You should! Hey, not to change the subject, but I have a small favor to ask." "Anything. Ask away." "My brother and his girlfriend are moving to Mumbai," her friend told her, "and I was hoping maybe you could keep an eye on him, look out for him a little, you know?" "Arun is moving here? How old is he now?" "He's almost twenty-four." "Holy crap! Why's he moving out here?" "He has some grand designs on becoming an actor. His girlfriend, too. They're moving west to make it big in Hollywood!" It was easy to detect a note of sarcasm in the voice of Asha. She obviously did not think the move was a good idea. "And you want me to keep an eye on him?" "He knows no one out there, Shaloo. He knows you and he knows his agent, and his agent I have no faith in whatsoever. If you could just show him around, show him the ropes a little, make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, I would so greatly appreciate it." Shalini rolled her eyes. "Asha," she said exasperatedly, "you know you don't even have to ask me, right? Of course, I'll do it! I'd be more than happy to help. When does he get here?" "Next Tuesday," Asha replied, "September thirteenth. They kept their plans quiet and just told the family last weekend. Everything is happening too fast, if you ask me, but they certainly aren't asking me, so whatever." "Maybe I can meet him for lunch on Wednesday," Shalini suggested, "if they're not still busy getting settled." "Would you? Oh, Shaloo, thank you, thank you, thank you! It means so much to me. I know Arun is excited to see you again, too. He mentioned it last weekend." "Excited to see me?" Shalini asked incredulously. "Does he even remember me? I haven't seen him in like four years." Asha giggled. "How could anyone forget you, sweetie? You're magnificent." Shalini laughed. "Whatever, you little flirt. Just have him call me when he gets in." "It was so nice talking to you, honey," Asha said then, her voice full of emotion. "Please, let's not wait so long again next time." "Agreed. Take care, sweetie." "You, too, honey."

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And Shalini hung up the phone and moved back into the bathroom, eager for the test results, and emerged from that same room moments later, suddenly greatly wearied and clutching a small white stick that very clearly stated its results: negative. *** "Mrs. Rao," the specialist said, "I'm afraid I have some difficult news." The office of Dr. Franklin Ames was small and white, and the walls were covered by more than two dozen plaques and placards. He was one of the foremost fertility specialists in the country (if not the world) and came very highly recommended. Shalini grew very still and could feel her heart pounding beneath her breast. "Tell me," she said finally, steeling herself and strengthening her resolve. "One of the tests we ran on your husband yielded abnormal results," the doctor said in carefully measured words, slowly and clearly, "and in such a case there can be only one conclusion. I'm afraid, Mrs. Rao, that your husband is sterile." "Sterile," she repeated, the word like ash in her mouth. The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so," he said again. "Which means what exactly?" Shalini asked, knowing already the answer. "He cannot have children." Shalini could feel her ears burning and her face flush. "And me?" she asked in a small voice. "What about me?" "You are fine, Mrs. Rao," the man said quickly, "perfectly healthy and very fertile, in fact." "Is it treatable? My husband's condition, I mean." The doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid there is no known cure. The research is still several years off, at least. I'm very sorry." And so Shalini left the office of her doctor, one question rolling endlessly through her mind: how exactly to phrase the words that would crush the dreams of the man she loved, a man who wanted children more than anything else. But when she arrived home, she did so without any answers. *** Harshvardhan Rao was feeling pretty good about himself. The work day had been a particularly successful one, Monday night football was on television once he got back to his condominium and his wife would be waiting there for him, too, hopefully with some good news about a baby. He desperately wanted to have children and believed he would make an excellent father, providing for his offspring but also grounding them with good values and morals, building their character, steering their goals

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and dreams and decisions, and definitely not making some of the same mistakes his parents had made. He unlocked the door and entered the condo, and found his wife sitting quietly on the sofa. He instantly knew something was wrong and he had a pretty good idea what it was; it seemed they would likely need to keep trying. "Baby?" he asked as he took a seat next to her. Her eyes were puffy and it was clear she had been crying, but despite the tracks of her tears and the slightly haggard look his wife was still one breathtaking woman. "I saw the doctor today," she said quietly. "I know," Harshvardhan said soothingly. "What did he say?" There was great struggle on her face. She was wrestling with something, he could see, and her eyes began to mist over as the weight of it took its toll. He put his arm around her shoulder and waited patiently. "I'm not pregnant," she said finally. Harshvardhan smiled, trying his best to put as much comfort as he could in the expression. "That's alright, baby," he said. "We'll keep trying. We've got tonight and the rest of our lives. Babies will come, I know it." She turned to him then, her eyes filled with so much sadness it wrenched his heart to see it, and started to speak, but stopped herself and lowered her head instead, and started to cry. Her shoulders trembled with each gentle sob. "I can't do it," she moaned. Harshvardhan pulled her all the way into his arms and she clutched him tightly. "Yes, you can, baby," he whispered. "We can do this. We can do this together. It's only a matter of time." While he was quite unhappy to see her upset, there was a small place inside Harshvardhan that was excited to know she was as eager as he to have children, and that something as minor as a one-month setback (albeit on the heels of ten months of failure) could bring about such an emotional reaction. He meant what he said, however; it was only a matter of time. And then she raised her head and their eyes met again, and for a long moment he looked into those bright green pools, swimming and nearly drowning there, and he watched as they went from troubled and clearly conflicted to calm and at peace, much like the sun might emerge from the clouds to bring everything into focus. Whatever her issues, she had resolved them. "Make love to me," she whispered softly, her voice so vulnerable it caused an ache in his heart than matched beat for beat the sudden blazing heat in his loins. And so Harshvardhan helped her to her feet and removed every stitch of her clothes, item by item, inch by inch, until the whole of her glorious body was revealed, and he lay her down on the long and gentle fibers of their living room rug and wasted little time savoring the taste of her body from lips to knees, and every space between.

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And when she was thoroughly aroused, her nipples shriveled and hard upon her rounded breasts, the flatness of her stomach trembling with need, her legs wavering and the pretty pink lips of her pussy quivering, Harshvardhan took his place between those legs and leveled his cock right at the entrance to that pussy, and slowly pushed himself inside. She was ungodly tight and oven-hot, and he could feel her muscles milking his shaft, and the view looking down at her, breasts cupped by and spilling out through the cracks in her delicate fingers, lovely blonde hair like a nest around her head and those gorgeous eyes evergreen, and ever watchful. Oh, yes, Harshvardhan thought, life was pretty good. Back to index

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by Angrez

Arun Gowariker could not remember a time when he felt as nervous as he was at present. His heart was pounding, his ears were burning and his palms had that sticky sort of feeling. He rarely got nervous in any way anymore, having long ago conquered the bouts of shyness and low self-confidence issues plaguing his high school years, but his present emotional state represented a serious dose of regression. It was easy to understand why. Every person in the world can look back on their youth and name the one individual who impacted their growth more than any other. For some, that person is a teacher. For others, a parent or sibling. For most men, that person is a female. For most men, that female is gorgeous. For Arun, that female was Shalini Verma. He was in high school when he first saw her, the hot friend of his older sister, the classic college sorority girl, gorgeous and utterly unattainable. Shalini and his sister, Asha, students at the University of Delhi at Austin a few short miles from the Gowariker household, had dropped by to frolic around the pool, which is probably why his first sight of her created such a lasting impression: tiny black bikinis covering hardly any flesh have a tendency to do that. She was glorious: flowing blonde hair, sultry green eyes and a willowy figure that defied logic in so many ways. Her skin was golden brown and glistening, and the picture of perfection. She was only a freshman in college then, which meant Arun was privy to four years of her glory. He was two years younger, but seemed worlds apart from the luscious girl from Southern California. When it came time for college himself, he spent two years at a local community college, and one of the main reasons for his choice was to remain in close proximity to Shalini. When she graduated and moved back to Mumbai, it was one of the darkest days of his life. That had been four years ago, however, and Arun had done much to move on. While his thoughts still sidled over images of Shalini on occasion, he was no longer truly obsessed with her. At twenty-four, he was very much grown up. At least, he thought he was, but now here he was feeling like some virginal high schooler who had no idea what to do or how to act around girls. He would have to pull himself together, he told himself, or Shalini

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would think he was a moron. He pulled up to the restaurant, a ritzy little caf called the Apple Dish, and tossed his keys to the valet. He was an aspiring actor, yes, but not without means; much of his savings had made the trip with him, and he planned to enjoy himself. And so he went inside and searched the crowd for her, and saw her sitting alone at one of the tables, and one memory above all else flashed through his mind: a stolen glance at glistening flesh, an unsuspecting Shalini naked and glorious and fresh from the shower, toweling herself off in the guest bathroom. Arun would have to walk very carefully across the room, lest anyone notice the sudden bulge in his jeans. When last he saw her, Shalini had been a soon-to-be college graduate, fresh-faced and eager, and beautiful, and four years had not dimmed her beauty one bit. In fact, the time had only increased it. Shalini Verma was everything he remembered, and more. She was distinctly feminine, her blonde hair tasteful and sophisticated, layered and colored and past her shoulders. Her face was gorgeous, her skin flawless, her make-up pristinely applied and perfectly understated. She wore a light beige sundress, cut square in front with straps over the shoulders, which off-set the deeper gold of her tan and displayed abundant, yet somehow classy-looking cleavage. She was, in a word, incredible. And then she saw him and smiled, brilliant emerald eyes sparkling, pearly white teeth shining, and the splendor and power of her expression could have solved energy issues the world over. And so Arun did the only thing he could: he took a deep breath and walked to her on wavering legs, and he could feel his heart pounding and his face burning as he did so. The woman of his dreams was before him again. *** Shalini had not really known what to expect. The last time she saw Arun Gowariker was four years earlier: she was graduating from college, he was just about to start another year of junior college, somewhat gangly but kind of cute, very shy, and an all-around nice guy. He had been unable to go her wedding (he was invited along with the rest of the Gowariker household, whom she thought of as her second family) and the few times she had visited Delhi, he had been away at school. Thus, she did not have any clue what he would look like, knowing well how much four years (particularly those of the early twenties) could change a person. Still, she was blown away. She recognized the handsome man walking her way, could see in the shape of his face and the set of his eyes the unmistakable signs of Gowariker ancestry, but in those subtle clues the resemblance to the boy she had known four years ago ended: gone was the moppy black hair, gone were the glasses; gone were the scrawny, gangly limbs and maladroit posture, and stilted movements; gone was the mismatched and oversized wardrobe, the acne and awkwardness. In their place was six-foot-three inches, two hundred ten pounds of muscular confidence with fashionable clothes, styled jet black hair and sharp, searing gray eyes. She smiled winningly at him when she saw him, but behind her composed outward faade lay another thought altogether: simply stated, Arun Gowariker was a hunk.

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Shalini rose to her feet and embraced him when he arrived, saying, "Oh my goodness, Arun! Look at you! You're hot!" She was delighted to see him blush and lower his eyes. It had always amused her, the crush she had known Arun had on her. She had teased him a little and tantalized and teased him more than he probably deserved, and his cute little liking of her had stoked her ego quite a bit at important times, and for that she would always be thankful for even if he never knew it. She wondered fleetingly if he still harbored any feelings for her now, four years later. "Hello, Shalini," he said in a deep and inherently manly voice. Even his voice was different, and much improved; no more squeaks, it seemed. "You're just as beautiful as I remember." It was her turn to blush. "Flattery, sir, will get you everywhere," she told him as they took their seats. "Seriously, though, Arun, it's so good to see you. It's been a long time." "Yes," he agreed. "Four years." "Amazing," she breathed. "A lot has happened since then." He nodded. "You got married," he said, and she wondered at the softness of his words. Deflecting, she nodded. "You became an actor!" He grinned. "I did," he admitted, "and now here I am, arrived in Hollywood." "Quite a long way from Austin," she said with a smile. "True," he agreed, "but the silver lining is now I'm much closer to you." And while Shalini waxed cheerful from the subtly sweet flirtatious of words, another voice broke up their conversation, a lovely voice that was musical and markedly southern. "Hi there," the voice said, and Shalini turned to find a lovely young blonde woman standing over them, a bright smile on her face. She spoke again after a moment and her soft southern drawl was unmistakable. "My name's Amberly and I'll be your server today. What would y'all like to drink?" "Water, please," replied Shalini. Arun answered, "The same, thank you." And then they were alone again and the conversation resumed, and Shalini found herself drawn more and more into his words, very interested in the story of his past four years to degrees much greater than she had expected to be, and also she found herself entranced by the movement of his lips and the thin layer of stubble across his face. He was rugged and ruggedly handsome, and yet somehow so very well put together. They were halfway through the meal, engrossed in a discussion about the relationship between politics and entertainment, when his phone rang. He flipped it open. "My girlfriend," Arun said, checking it. He answered and spoke briefly into the receiver, then flipped the phone closed. "She's right outside."

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And then the girlfriend was no longer outside, she was inside and approaching the table, and Shalini saw for the first time just how far Arun Gowariker had come: his girlfriend was absolutely exquisite. The girl had blonde hair so bright it was nearly blinding, eyes as blue as the sky on a summer day, a gorgeous face, and a killer body. "Shalini," Arun said, rising to his feet, "I'd like you to meet Madhurima Madhwan. Madhu, this is Shalini Verma, an old friend of my sister's." Shalini smiled sweetly, an expression returned in equal measure by Madhurima. Whatever else the girl might be, she was very friendly and nice, and Shalini liked her instantly. "It's Rao now," she corrected, "and I'm not too old and don't you forget it. I'm very pleased to meet you, Madhurima." The girl had a beautiful voice, too. "Aww, thanks sweetie," she cooed, and from her accent it was quite clear she hailed from Delhi. Pure Delhi panhandle, musical and womanly. And so the nature and breadth and depth of their discussion changed dramatically thereafter as Arun was forced to pay significant attention to his significant other, and Shalini received far fewer of the subtle flirtatious comments and compliments. She did not mind, though, really; in fact, she thought, it was probably for the best. In the end, after more than two hours of conversation replete with laughs and reminisces and understated glances, and even a brief and well-timed phone call from Asha, Shalini took leave of the young man and young woman with an individual hug for each, and she could not help but notice the soft fleshy feel of the breasts of the latter and the strong, sure shoulders and arms of the former, and as she was walking away she wondered if there was a more attractive couple anywhere in the city, which in Mumbai was truly saying something. And although she did not know it yet, deep in the mind of Shalini Rao was planted the seed that would eventually grow to bear a very unconventional and exceptional kind of fruit. *** Arun ripped off his shirt, buttons flying. He did not care, however, about the buttons; he was achingly hard and desperate for action, and there was nubile and willing female flesh before him ready to satisfy his every carnal desire. The bright blue eyes of Madhurima Madhwan twinkled as she crossed her arms down and stripped her blouse up and over her head. She was not wearing a bra (she made him aware of it subtlety during lunch) and her ample breasts plopped down into their excellent places, firm mountains of D-cup goodness that jiggled enticingly, the shriveled pink nipples delectable-looking. The girl was fantastic and had easily won over Arun with her rare mix of beauty and personality, and while he knew he was no slouch himself in those areas, he still thanked fortune every day for dropping such a goddess into his lap. A goddess who loved to fuck, no less. Arun licked his lips, which was a clear sign of his desire to taste her and pleasure her with his mouth, but she shook her head fiercely, pointed at his jeans and said, "I've got other plans."

And with that she shimmied out of her skirt, taking her panties with it, leaving her naked but for a pair of thin white socks still covering her feet. Her body was glorious, curved in all the right places but very athletic; she

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was a former gymnast whose figure had blossomed too much to continue competing, but she still maintained much of the physical fitness that went along with the sport. She flopped down onto the bed, spread her legs wide to display with breathtaking agility her glistening pink pussy, grinned lewdly, and waited. Arun wasted no time and his jeans soon followed his shirt to the floor. He vaulted onto the bed and Madhurima squealed, surprised by his exuberance but thrilled by it, too. She did not have time to think, however; his lips snared hers as his weight fell upon her, his hand immediately between his legs and guiding his cock to its heavenly sheath. Her hands cupped his buttocks and pulled him closer, and her eyes widened and her breath caught as the mushroom head slipped inside her, and she giggled and hooked her feet up around and behind his neck, plunging him deeper. She moaned. "Oh my god," she cooed, "you're so fucking big!"

And then he was thrusting and her hips were bucking and the fuck rhythm was developed, and the squishing sound as his cock gouged out her pussy echoed through the air. Arun clutched the juicy cheeks of her rump, lifting her up off the mattress until only her shoulders remained, her back curved lewdly and her stomach bunched up on itself. He watched as his thick meat stretched her puffy lips wide and her heavenly breasts jiggled and bounced in time with each vicious downward stroke. She whimpered and her fingers took hold of her tits, caressing them and tweaking the nipple, in part to pleasure, in part to keep them from bouncing so wildly, and she grinned wickedly up at him, knowing how much he enjoyed the sight of a woman touching herself. And then she began to tremble, a tremor that began at the tips of her toes and spread through the whole of her frame as she neared her climax, her moans broken only by the occasional gasp, until finally she came, her legs squeezing tighter around his neck, threatening to strangle him, her body wracked by vibrations for several endless moments before it relaxed.

And then and only then did Arun let himself go, and no sooner had the girl melted into the bed, her legs slipping limply from his shoulders to fall lewdly back to the mattress, than he pulled his cock from her velvety depths and erupted, painting her tits and stomach with his creamy seed. Arun fell to the bed next to her. "I'm spent," he breathed. "No, you're not," she told him emphatically, hopping up to her knees. She scurried into the bathroom, luscious ass wiggling, and returned moments later with all traces of his cum removed.

She crawled onto the bed and then between his legs, and tenderly took his deflated cock into her mouth. She licked and caressed it with her tongue, slurping and sucking the life back into him. "Come here," he said, and she knew exactly what he meant. As she nuzzled his balls with her nose, she curled her body around and straddled his head, knees on either side, and deposited her still-glistening pussy over his face. It looked and smelled wonderful, and he knew from experience how fantastic it tasted.

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Leisurely, lovingly, the beautiful young people suckled one another; her with her lips and hands on his cock, him with his tongue and fingers on her cunt. Her breasts grazed across the skin of his stomach, shriveled nipples just barely contacting his ribbed abs, her torso twisting this way and that as she gobbled his cock from different angles. Arun was hard in no time. Madhurima rolled off and brought her head back up to his, and they kissed intimately, enjoying the connection between them. Their lust had driven their fucking in the first session, but now their desire was of a deeper kind and they longed for a softer, gentler coupling. Madhurima turned to her side and Arun spooned up behind her, one arm encircling her from the top, his hand nestled between the pillows of her breasts, and his pelvis pressing firmly against her rounded rump. She lifted her leg and reached down between them, took hold of his erection and guided it to the entrance of her sex.

Arun sighed as he slipped easily inside. His hand crept over the curve of her hip and down between her legs, and he tickled her clitoris with his fingers. She moaned and wiggled her body, pushing her ass back against him, driving him deeper. It was a position designed to prolong their fucking for a long time, and it did: she built slowly towards orgasm, while Arun was perfectly happy to enjoy the sensation of their union without nearing climax of his own. And after several minutes, Madhurima gasped and quieted, her body frozen, before she whimpered and quaked, and melted back into him. Arun loved when she creamed around his cock; the twitches of the muscles of her vagina were so fierce, so pleasurable, they alone nearly sent him over the edge. But Arun held back, hoping for more . . . and was insanely glad that he did. Madhurima giggled. "I know what you want," she said breathlessly, and she inched forward to withdraw his cock and wrapped her hand around the shaft. "You want to fuck me in a darker, dirtier place, don't you?" Arun groaned. The girl was an absolute fiend. And then she guided the head of his cock higher, between the luscious orbs of her ass, deep into its crack and against the wrinkled little hole at its center. Madhurima pushed back and Arun pushed forward, and suddenly the mushroom head of his cock burst through the tight sphincter of her ass and slithered its way into her bowels. "Oh, fuck!" the girl grunted, eyes squeezed tight as she reacted to the pain. Arun groaned as the intense heat and compression of his beautiful girlfriend's butt overwhelmed him; Madhurima's ass was exquisite, and there was almost nothing better than being deep inside it.

She thrust back against him gently, but Arun clutched her hips and heaved forward, shoving his meat all the way inside her burning back passage, bottoming all seven inches out. "Oh my fucking god!" Madhurima wailed, her body struggling against his invasive cock.

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Arun grabbed her and pulled her flush against his body, and took her with him as he rolled over onto his back, keeping his shaft deep in her ass as they went. When the maneuver was finished, Madhurima lay on her back on his chest, her tits thrust up into the air, his hands gripping the back of her thighs and holding them up and bent as he jacked his hips upwards and impaled her ass again and again with his cock. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" Madhurima was screaming now, blabbering almost incoherently. Arun only got the opportunity to savor her ass on rare occasion, and now that another had arrived, he was seizing it fully. And so he fucked her ass brutally again and again as she wailed at him, screaming for him to fuck her harder, to split her ass open, and it was in that same position a short time later that his end finally arrived and he spewed an incredible load into her, filling her bowels. Fleetingly, he hoped that Madhurima's ass would not be too sore the next day. *** Ranjeet Rao was an extraordinarily successful businessman, having bought and sold a handful of companies in his forty years in the working world. He was also the founder and chief executive officer of Excel Electronics, a multi-million dollar corporation and a powerhouse in the field of advanced computer graphics parts and materials. Namrata Rao was the stereotypical east coast, old money aristocrat: her fortune was inherited; her education was top-notch (Yale) despite insufficient scores; and her elitist manner and tendencies were significant. She was a formidable woman, especially when it came to issues or persons connected to her sons, and woe be to anyone foolish enough to stand in her way regarding them (or anything else, for that matter). Together, Ranjeet and Namrata were quite the intimidating pair, which was one reason why Shalini rarely enjoyed dinner with her in-laws. Another reason, of course, was Namrata's predisposition to levy judgment on those around her, particularly Shalini herself. Dinner on this Friday night involved a fancy restaurant in the heart of Beverly Hills, some hip and trendy placed called the Caf something-or-other, and to no one's surprise the subject Shalini had been dreading in advance of the dinner was brought up almost immediately. "When are you two having children?" Namrata asked pointedly with an almost glare-like stare at Shalini. "When I was your age, I was already into my second pregnancy. I'm not getting any younger, you know." Harshvardhan, ever patient and kind, merely smiled and said in a smooth and even voice, "Mother, you know we're trying. You had children younger, but you started younger. Dad practically plucked you out of your cradle." His mother gasped. "Harsh!" she gasped, outraged. Ranjeet Rao chuckled. "Don't tease your mother, son," he said, although it was clear he could have cared less about it. "You know she means well. Come now, Harsh; you've got an excellent job, a beautiful wife and plenty of money. Unlike your very disappointing brother, things have always come easy for you. It's time to get on the ball." "I'm sure it will happen very soon," Shalini said then, her insides twisting at the lie.

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"It'd better," Namrata muttered. "I didn't approve my son's choice of you for your winning personality. I sensed excellent genes and strong fertility, and it's time you proved me right." And so the night went: Namrata judging and complaining, Ranjeet chuckling and drinking, Harshvardhan sighing occasionally and keeping the peace, and Shalini herself fighting the near-overwhelming urge to dump her very expensive wine in her mother-in-law's very affluent lap. And over the course of the night, Shalini realized one thing: the parents of her husband would never accept the notion of their not having children, never accept the idea that their son could be infertile, and would make life very difficult when such knowledge came to light. Which was something Shalini was now very much determined never to have happen. Back to index

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by Angrez

When the phone rang that ordinary Sunday afternoon, Arun thought little of it. He did not particularly feel like talking with anyone; he was reveling in significant post-orgasm glow, having absolutely buried his blonde girlfriend for two straight hours before blowing his sizable load all over her perfect pear-shaped tits. Which were suddenly on display before him again as Madhurima carried his cell phone in with her from the other room. She was naked, which was exactly the way the heavens had intended her to be. She was luscious, gorgeous and hard-bodied with just the right mixture of curve and softness. Her breasts, residual stickiness still evident from the basting they received shortly ago, jiggled as she walked, and she was swishing her hips in an extremely sexy way. "Your phone, baby," said Madhurima sweetly as she tossed him the phone. "I'm gonna take a long hot shower, ok?" Arun nodded and sighed, and then he saw who was calling and immediately answered. "Hello?" he asked, trying to contain his eagerness. "Arun?" Shalini Rao asked tenuously. "Hi, Shaloo!" he replied cheerfully. She did not waste any time with pleasantries. "Arun, I need your help with something," she told him in a sober voice. "I need to speak with you about it in person, and in private. Do you have time this afternoon?" Arun was a little confused, but any reason to see Shaloo Rao was a good reason in his book, and so he agreed, which is how he came to be sitting on a bench in a small secluded park in the Mulholland Hills some forty minutes later, waiting for the woman herself to arrive. Madhurima did not know what he was doing; she thought he was shopping for a new outdoor basketball. The tone of Shaloo's voice was such that Arun assumed she did not want others to know what she would be talking with him about, and Madhurima would never rest until he spilled all the details if she knew he was meeting his old childhood fantasy girl. When she arrived, Arun watched her move from her car to the bench and reveled in his momentary ability to look at her unfettered (he was wearing sunglasses). She was so beautiful it nearly hurt, his chest constricting

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and his ears burning. She wore a bright yellow sundress, very understated but perfectly tailored to accentuate the highlights of her body, large black sunglasses and flat open-toed sandals. Her hair was loose and down around her shoulders, and with the sun behind her she looked like an angel coming upon him. She smiled when she reached him, but it was a tight smile. "Hello, Arun," she said in a low and timorous voice. It was clear she was not very comfortable. She did not sit down right away. "Hi, Shaloo," he said. "What's up? Is everything alright?" She seemed to be struggling with something; she half-turned, almost like she was going to leave, before she shook her head and sat down. Arun's curiosity had evaporated, concern in its place. She did not take off her sunglasses and looked out at the park, pointedly away from him, as she said, "I have a problem. I have a problem and you're . . . you might be . . . the only person in the world who is able to help." Arun told her, "Shaloo, you and my sister go way back. You're practically family. If you need something, anything, I'm here for you." She turned to him then and for the first time he noticed the tears trickling out beneath the sunglasses. "I'm going to tell you my problem," she said, "but I don't want you to say anything until I'm finished. Please, let me say what I have to say before I lose my nerve." "Alright," he agreed slowly. She took a deep breath and looked away from him again. "My husband is a good man," she began. "He is everything a woman wants: kind-hearted, good-natured, sexy, fun, gentlemanly and chivalrous. He has very few flaws and we are very happy. He will make an excellent father." She paused then and shivered just slightly, and Arun resisted the urge to reach out and wrap his arms around her, to comfort her. She was not his to comfort. She was not his to protect. She was a married woman, and thus off-limits. "The issue is that my husband is sterile," she said finally after long moments in a voice flat and emotionless. "He does not know. No one knows. He desperately wants children and I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. His parents are constantly pressuring us. We've been trying for almost a year. We went to the doctor and he told me the news, but Harsh was not there." She sniffled, tears threatening. "I can't tell him, it would break his heart!" Her head dropped into her hands, the sunglasses falling off and to the ground unheeded in the process, and when she raised her face to look at him again, Arun could see the anguish in the beautiful emerald pools of her eyes. "I need to get pregnant," she whispered, turning away from him again. "For Harsh, for the sake of his happiness, his dreams of family, his very honor. His parents would not look at him the same way again if they knew he could not have children. He would not look at himself the same way. I need to get pregnant and fertility clinics are out of the question; there are no guarantees they will not screw something up. I cannot take that chance." And for the first time, it dawned on Arun Gowariker where this conversation was headed, and in that moment he very nearly fell off the bench as his shock and bewilderment was so thoroughly complete, but before even the full weight of the idea settled upon him, Shalini Rao stated point-blank exactly what she wanted, cutting

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through to quick. "Arun, for the sake of my relationship with my husband and my own personal happiness, for the very sake of my husband's honor and the honor of his family, I'm asking you to impregnate me." *** The dinner crystallized her feelings: she would not tell Harshvardhan or anyone else about his sterility. His parents were crazy, his mother impenetrable. She would never forgive Shalini, never believe Harshvardhan's being sterile was anything other than Shalini's fault. The woman would tear her relationship with her husband apart, she just knew it. She would not tell anyone the secret. Which meant she had some thinking to do, and fast, and some tough decisions to make. If she were to keep the secret, there would have to be a baby involved. It was the only way to ensure no one ever doubted, no one ever found out. There were never very many options regarding a potential sperm donor and she quickly dismissed most of them. The idea of someone close to her, but not too close, becoming involved was the only real scenario Shalini felt she could control. Arun Gowariker was the logical choice: his build and complexion were similar to Harshvardhan's and they even shared the same hair color; he was the brother of her closest friend and an honorable guy; he was in excellent health, and also pretty smart when he put his mind to something; he was extremely attractive, quite ruggedly handsome; and it would mean a part of the baby was tied to Asha, whom she loved like a sister. It would also mean three other things: first, Arun would have to know the secret, which meant she would have to tell him and be comfortable that he would maintain her confidence, placing her faith and trust in him completely; second, he would have to be comfortable with the fact that his child would grow up in the world not knowing he was the actual father, content to watch from the sidelines; and third, the both of them would have to be comfortable with the process of conception, which meant they would have to sleep together. This, perhaps more than anything, was what freaked Shalini out the most. Her decision would require her to cheat on Harshvardhan, commit premeditated adultery, for his own good. The irony of the idea would have been laughable, had it not been so achingly real. Her decision was not lightly made, not even in the slightest. It caused incredible anguish. Ultimately, however, she had no other choice. Which is what led her to the park in the Mulholland Hills that Sunday afternoon and the park bench upon which she currently sat, tears wet upon her cheeks, hands trembling with fear and torment, hoping he would say yes, hoping he would say no, wondering even as she spoke the fateful words just how in the hell she got to this place, just how the beginnings of this, her most unbelievable, most uncharacteristic and most outlandish idea ever, were sown. Arun was staring at her, gray eyes dark like thunderclouds and twice as storm-tossed. It was clear her words were rolling over and over through his head, and when he spoke at long last, it was only to repeat them. "You want me to impregnate you," he said slowly. She nodded, but did not speak. "You want me to father your child." Again, she nodded. "You want me to father your child because your husband cannot have children, and it would break his heart to know it."

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"Yes!" The word burst from her like a geyser from the ground. She did not know if she could take anymore waiting; his lack of any real kind of response was killing her. "How?" he asked in a low voice. His meaning was clear. She lowered her eyes. "I think you know," she replied, acutely self-conscious. The silence was palpable. "When?" he asked finally. Hope flowered within her. "As soon as possible," she told him. "There is no guarantee it will take the first try. Likely, it won't." "More than once," he said slowly, considering. "This is a heavy thing you are asking, Shaloo." And for the first time she heard something through the seriousness and the surprise, the underlying tone to his voice: tenderness, a special and different kind of tenderness. She wondered if it was real, or if she was imagining it. "Why me?" he asked, strained. Honesty, she knew, was the only course. "Because you are kind and smart and handsome," she told him, not meeting his gaze, "and you look a little like Harsh and have the same body type, and your family means so much to me, and your sister means so much to me, and you are one of the few people I believe I can trust with a secret of this magnitude, a secret that could destroy my entire life if it ever came to light. Honestly, Arun, you are the only person I would ever consider doing this with, and I believe you came into my life at the exact moment I needed you. In some ways, I think your coming was fate guiding me to this decision." And then she looked at him and saw a different kind of light in his eyes, and he asked, softly, "Would I get to be involved?" She smiled, which was unexpected. "I was thinking you and Asha would be the godparents," she told him. He smiled right back at her. "I'd like that," he said. She rose to her feet, suddenly feeling embarrassed and extremely self-conscious. "Don't answer right now," she told him. "Please, take some time and carefully consider what I'm asking, and everything it entails. You have a beautiful girlfriend; you would have to deceive her. You would have to deceive everyone in your life, forever; no one can ever know the child is yours. It is a heavy burden I'm placing upon you, Arun, if you say yes. Please, think about it." "I will," he promised. She smiled again, gently. "Thank you, Arun," she breathed, and turned on her heels and went back to her car, very careful not to let on that her knees and legs felt completely like Jell-O. ***

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"Tell me what you want." It was late, well past midnight, and Madhurima was bent lewdly at the waist, her palms flat against the wall, her back and legs forming a perfect ninety-degree angle. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist, her silk panties nimbly rolled down around her thighs in a taut band, revealing her fully, and cool air trailed over her wet, exposed pussy, and she whimpered with need. Arun stood behind her, roughly having manipulated her body into its current position, dominating her completely as she so often preferred to be, loving the power he had over her and reveling in the lushness of her body.

Whack! Arun leveled a crushing blow to the bare flesh of her bottom and the girl squealed in shock and pain. "Tell me what you want," he said heatedly, and his statement was not a request. Madhurima hesitated. "I . . . I . . ." she stammered, her breaths quick and ragged as she struggled to answer in time. Whack! Another blow landed cruelly across her backside, stinging fiercely, and the sound of the skin of his palm swatting the skin of her buttocks echoed resoundingly through the bedroom. "Tell me what you want," he said for the third time, and much more insistent. Her voice was low and timid, and hoarse. "Fuck me," she whispered. Whack! "Ahhhh!" she wailed, her flesh burning. "I want you to fuck me!" His breath hot in her ear as his fingers delved deeply into her lovely pink pussy from behind, spreading her velvety labia, and slipped into her tight slick canal. She stiffened in pleasure and groaned loudly. "What did you say?" he whispered, a devilish edge to his voice. "Fuck me, Arun!" she cried. "Fuck me now!" Her body squirmed and writhed with intense arousal, shuddering about lustily, and Arun absolutely loved it. His fingers left her pussy and his hands grabbed a tight hold of her waist, squeezing tight, and he felt her body tense with anticipation in its bent over position, the juices from her swollen cunt dripping down her thighs. His thumbs curled inward and spread her ass cheeks wide, and he guided the tip of his cock between the tight folds of her pussy, and with one brutally abrupt motion rammed himself home. He impaled the buxom blonde with his cock, shoving himself completely inside until his pubic hair tickled the flesh of her upturned ass and his balls rested snugly against her own trimmed swath of golden pubic hair. Madhurima whimpered as his cock violated her, splitting her in two, crushing her utterly. "Oh my god," she wailed, "oh . . . my . . . god . . . oh my god . . . oh my god . . . oh fuck . . . oh my god . . ."

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Arun growled as her pussy sucked fiercely at his shaft, begging for it to go deeper. "Oh . . . my . . . god . . ." the young beauty moaned. "Fill me . . . oh fuck . . . so full . . ." She whimpered as he pulled his erection out of her sopping wet pussy without warning and when the ridge of the mushroom head appeared, Arun paused, relishing the sight of the vast majority of his seven inches jutting lewdly from a pretty pink pussy, its rubbery folds stretched around the head, before he took both her hips in his hands and stuffed the full length back inside, thrusting slow at first but then harder and harder and harder with each and every down stroke. "Oh my fuuuccckiingggg gggoooooodddddd," Madhurima bellowed as she met him thrust for thrust, grinding her sweet and supple bottom back against him in an erotic collision of flesh and pelvic bone. Her ass rippled lewdly as it bounced off his waist like a yo-yo. Arun grunted as he hammered away at the gorgeous golden-haired strumpet, kneading her firm ass with his palms, spreading the cheeks as wide apart as they could go, loving the way her puckered anus winked up at him as he did so. Madhurima was losing coherence as her pleasure mounted. "Unnhh . . . unnhh . . . aahhh . . . ahhhh," she wailed. "Oh my god . . . fuck me . . . fuck me . . . fuck me!" Arun groaned and pistoned his hips back and forth, burying his thickness over and over again in the girl's incredibly tight sheath, and grinned as his right hand rose and fell once more, swatting her rump with far more gentility than he had previously shown. Madhurima's head whipped around, golden hair spinning in a wild arc, and she glared at him from over her shoulder. Her eyes positively smoldered. "Spank my ass," she hissed. "Spank me harder god damn it!" Arun growled and slapped her again, much harder this time as he pounded her from behind. Her skirt was slipping back down her legs from the force of his thrusts, but he tucked it up and under itself again without breaking his momentum. Madhurima spread her legs out as far as her panties would allow, straining the silk rolled around her thighs near the tearing point. Her pussy stretched wide around the thick cock, her insides tugged out with every withdrawal, the sight of which nearly sent him over the edge. "Ahhhhhhhh!" the girl screamed. Madhurima was a screamer, a very vocal and naughty-mouthed lover when she neared climax, which was one of the ways he knew she was close. "Spank me, baby! Fuck me! Fuck me! Spank me! Fuck my little pussy! Fuck it harder!" Arun used both his hands on her rump now, driving his cock with near-brutality between her puffy pink lips and deep into her pussy without any stabilizing support. His hands whacked at her ass, alternating between the two cheeks with rapid flurry until her tanned skin was dark crimson from the onslaught. His cock continued to spear into her luscious body. "Unnhhhh . . ." she wailed as he slammed into her, shredding her. "Unnhhhh . . . oh my goaaaunnhhh . . . unhh . . . aahhh . . ." Madhurima did not stop screaming, but the words soon fell completely into incoherent babbling. "Oh my god ohmygod oh god ohmyoh myfucking ohfuck godohfuck me ohfuckgodohfuckme fuckfuck fuckmefuckmefuckme!" And then she froze, her face locked in a gorgeous grimace of agonized bliss.

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Her legs began to tremble violently and her back arched to an impossible, gymnast-like degree, her tummy dropping low as her ass upturned farther in the air and tugged pleasurably at Arun's invasive cock. The friction nearly toppled Arun off his wavering pedestal of control. "Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckoh ffffuuucccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Orgasmic convulsions pummeled Madhurima's body, harder perhaps even than Arun had pummeled it with his cock, and her wails of ecstasy overwhelmed everything in the room. Arun did not let her off the hook, however: his hands wrapped around her waist and slid up her toned stomach, higher and higher until her doughy, quivering breasts filled his palms. He jiggled the mounds of hanging flesh vigorously. It was not until she crested the heights of her climax that Arun unleashed his last, most desperate assault. His fingers retreated from the bounty of her breasts and renewed their perch in the firm flesh of her bottom, and using his rough grip for support, he focused all his energy upon her orgasm-wracked, juice-oozing slit. His cock impaled her again and again, thrashing and lambasting, unforgiving and vicious as it stuffed its full length repeatedly into her abused pussy. Madhurima creamed all over his cock and the warm pink walls of her cunt twitched and clutched at his shaft as they quivered, wracked by orgasm, and the combination sent Arun plummeting over the edge into the void of sweet release. The whole of his body tensed and all the focus of his attention and energy shifted suddenly and directly to his loins. And then he exploded. Arun moaned as load after heavy load of his hot white sperm spewed into his girlfriend's hungry, shuddering womb. The thick cum splashed against her ribbed inner chambers, tickling her from the inside out, stuffing her full of his spunk. "Oh my god . . ." the blonde beauty wept, still holding fast in her bent-over position, her palms flat and unmoving against the wall as tears filled her eyes. Never before had she felt so much sperm being deposited into her little pussy, and the sensation overwhelmed her. "Oh my god . . . oh my god . . . oh my god oh my god oh my god . . . oh my god so fucking full . . ." Arun grunted as his thrusts slackened, but he kept his cock embedded deep within her, ensuring every ounce of his seed was deposited inside. Madhurima murmured to herself under her breath, blubbering like a child. When finally he determined that his well had run dry, Arun slid his deflated cock out of her with a squishy plop, heaving a heavy sigh. His knees were weak and he reached out to steady himself against the wall. Madhurima's legs wavered and nearly buckled, but his strong arm around her waist prevented her collapse. Long moments of silence followed, broken only by the sound of their ragged breathing. And then Madhurima turned and melted against him, her still naked breasts squashing against his chest.. His hands encircled her, sliding down to take healthy handfuls of her bottom, golden brown skin splashed with crimson, which moments before he had pounded for all he was worth. "Thank you," she whispered, face set in a soft smile. He leaned in and lightly kissed her mouth. "You were wonderful." She beamed at his praise.

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She wiggled her hips and let her skirt and the band of her panties slip the rest of the way down over legs, and grinned widely. "I can feel your cum sliding down my leg. I like it." Arun grinned right back. "Happy to oblige," he said as he kissed her again, "anytime you like." Madhurima giggled. "I'll remember that," she laughed. "I'm going to clean myself up. I've got an audition later." She turned and made for the bathroom, but Arun had just enough time to give her one more playful swat on the rump as she went. She shrieked and glanced back over her shoulder with a wicked little grin, and giggled. And then she was gone and the smile that lingered on the face of Arun Gowariker slowly disappeared as he considered a moment in the middle of their love-making when he nearly lost himself in his imagination, which was not something that had ever happened to him before: when he was with a woman, he was with her, always, and never imagined others. And yet for the first time Arun had found himself imagining the woman he was fucking was someone other than his girlfriend, which was absolutely crazy as Madhurima Madhwan was one of the hottest girls he knew. In the mind of Arun, however, no woman held a candle to Shalini Rao. The shower spurted to life and the shower door closed, and the sounds of soft singing drifted out from the bathroom, which meant Madhurima was under the spray, cleansing herself. And so Arun picked up his phone and dialed the number he had been considering dialing for the past three days, and on the fifth ring the voice of Shalini Rao echoed from the receiver. "Hello?" the woman asked. "Shaloo," Arun said slowly with fanfare of any kind, "I'll do it." And the answering sigh seemed at once relieved and apprehensive, and perfectly echoed the sentiments in his own mind. *** She was pleasuring herself when he called, her fingers delving into her folds. She was sprawled across her bed, freshly showered and scrubbed, garbed only in a powder blue cotton robe that was spread open completely and covering nothing. It had been forever, it seemed, since she masturbated; she had been saving herself for her baby-making sessions with Harshvardhan. Which meant true and deep orgasm had eluded her for months as they had focused on conception, and her climax afterward was always light and designed to jump-start pregnancy. When the phone rang, one glance at the screen sent the whole of her body into a tailspin. Her heart began to pound beneath her breast, her flesh felt like it was on fire, there was a ringing in her ears and tremblings in her fingers. Her whole body felt suddenly . . . alive. "Hello?" she asked. "Shaloo," said Arun Gowariker slowly on the other end of the line. "I'll do it."

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And Shalini Rao sighed deeply then, thankful a potential solution to her most significant problem had been found, grateful to the man for agreeing to help, but more nervous and troubled and afraid than she could ever remember being. "Thank you, Arun," she breathed. "Thank you." "What comes next?" he asked, even though they both knew exactly what came next. "I'll call you soon," she said hastily, quite suddenly very embarrassed. "Ok," he agreed. "Take care, Shaloo." "You, too, Arun." And so Shalini hung up the phone and lay a long time without moving, wild thoughts running rampant through her head, before her fingers took up their previous task, flittering across her folds lightly and tenderly, and just how she liked, but there was a new kind of urgency in their touch, a new kind of excitement, which was something she was altogether uncomfortable with. And yet completely incapable of curbing. Back to index

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by Angrez

"Have you seen my cufflinks?" "There're in your top dresser drawer, sweetie." "What about my keys?" "In the dish in the kitchen." "And the plane ticket?" "Hall table, sweetie." Harshvardhan stopped and turned to his wife, who was perched peacefully on the bed and just as beautiful as ever. "What would I do without you, my love?" he asked with a smile. "Fall apart, clearly," she said with a smile of her own. "Come here," he told her, beckoning with his hands, and she slid off the bed and into his arms, and he embraced her warmly. She hugged him right back, squeezing him tightly, her arms almost crushing him. "Whoa, babe! What's with the rough love? I'm only gone overnight." She tilted her head up, eyes moist with tears. "You know I love you, right? I love you very much, Harsh. Very much." He chuckled and smoothed down her hair. She could be so emotional sometimes, which was not to say he did like hearing such sentiments. Actually, he loved hearing them. "Of course, babe," he told her. "I love you, too." They parted and Harshvardhan set about the last little bit of packing he had left. It was a business trip in Phoenix with three separate functions crammed into twenty-four hours over a Thursday evening and night, plus the following Friday morning, which meant it was heavy on the dress clothing, which meant his garment bag was stuffed to the brim despite the short trip. Shalini watched him silently, sniffling occasionally, flashing him smiles. She was gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking, and Harshvardhan could not wait to get back to continue trying to have a baby with her, which was goal number one for them at present.

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"When I get back, love," he said suddenly, eyes bright and confident, "it'll happen. I know it! We'll put everything we have into it and next month, we're getting pregnant for sure." A strange sort of look passed across her face; he knew the toll their struggles had taken upon her. But the moment passed and her smile returned, softly, sweetly, and perfectly Shalini. "For sure," she repeated at a whisper, nodding, and there was hope and positivity again in her voice, which was very exciting for him to hear as such things had been significantly lacking of late after almost a year without conception. And so Harshvardhan departed, happy and secure in the knowledge that the hope of his wife had returned, and utterly, blissfully unaware as to the reason behind its resurgence. *** "I'm having trouble. I can't decide." The voice of Madhurima Madhwan called out from the closet. She was getting ready for an evening audition, which meant she was stressed out, and picking out her outfit would be the biggest and most stressful decision of all. Arun was on the leather chair in the bedroom, a suitcase on the floor at his side. As far as Madhurima was concerned, he was headed out of town to Vegas for a couple days to visit an old friend. He would not be at the apartment when she returned from the audition. Madhurima emerged from the closet. She carried with her a white shirt in her left hand and a blue shirt in her right, but the shirts were not the important things; the important thing was she was naked from the waist up. She was topless. Arun gazed upon his girlfriend's breasts. They were wonderful, swollen pear-shaped lobes that rose from her chest like mountains, perky and round and firm. Her nipples were dime-sized spots of shriveled pinkness. "What do you think of these?" the twenty-two year-old asked innocently. She shook the two shirts in her hands; the result was her round breasts joggling freely before Arun's admiring gaze. "They're perfect," Arun told her, staring. Madhurima giggled. "I'm not talking about my tits, sweetie." He shook himself out of his breast-induced stupor. "Uh, the blue," he said. "I love that shirt. It matches your eyes." Her face softened and she stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "Awww, honey," she cooed, "thanks for noticing." He shrugged. "How could I not?" She smiled again, turned on her heels and sashayed back into the closet to finish getting ready. "I'll miss you while you're gone," she called. "I'll miss you, too, baby," he said.

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He felt bad about the lying, although he rationalized it by remembering that the very security of Shalini's life and the foundation of her family rested on his secrecy. He felt bad about the cheating, but he rationalized that by thinking that it was not so much cheating as it was donating to a worthy cause. He considered what he was doing to be an honorable thing. A short while later, Madhurima was gone and Arun sat alone in the apartment, waiting. There was a specific plan in place (wholly concocted by Shalini, who was running the show completely) and Arun was content to follow her orders to the letter. Time passed . . . and then it was time. *** Everything was prepared. Shalini sipped from her water bottle, trying to keep herself calm. It was late in the evening, very near the time it would begin, and she was struggling to convince herself she was making the right decision. It was the only thing to do, she knew, and yet she was having second thoughts. And then the car rolled up in front of the house and there was no time left for doubt. *** The house was dark when he pulled up. Arun checked the address, just to be sure, and it proved correct: this was the home of Shalini Rao. He pulled through the open gate and into the circular driveway, turned off the car, and took a deep breath. The moment he had dreamed of for six years was about to come true. Shalini told him exactly what he was to do: drive over, pull into the driveway, turn off the car, walk to the door, knock three times, enter, lock the door behind him, walk up the stairs, enter the master bedroom at the end of the hall, take off his clothes and get under the covers. She was very specific and asked that he do exactly as she said. And so he did. He walked to the door in silence. Their house was a big one with a fountain in front and lush landscaping surrounding it. Her husband, he knew, had done very well for himself. He reached the door and knocked three times. There was no response. The door opened easily and he slipped inside. The house was dark, but there was enough light from the moon and stars for him to see the staircase winding around the wall off to his left. The foyer was marble-floored and expansive, and he was certain any voice would echo dramatically in that place. There were no voices, however; silence reigned. He bolted the front door and then walked up the stairs, treading lightly, eagerness and apprehension rising in concert. He did not know what to expect, beyond one thing: soon, he would find himself in the arms of Shalini Rao. How exactly, he knew not, but in truth he did not care: any way was well enough. There was a long hallway at the top of the stairs with five doors set at intervals down its length and a separate

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branching hallway off to the left. All the doors were closed, except for the broad double doors at the end of the hall: the master bedroom, his destination. He moved in silence, creeping along the hall, feeling almost like an intruder. He passed through the doors and into the bedroom, and found himself in a large room finely decorated. It was dark, but there were glass doors on the far wall leading out to a balcony, its curtains open, and the light of the moon streamed through and bathed the room in pale luminescence. The master bed was large and luxurious and set in the center of the longest wall. Arun wasted no more time looking; it was time to undress. His fingers fumbled nervously with his buttons, but soon he was naked, clothes in a heap. He was clean; he showered and shaved before he left, and dabbled with cologne. He made his way to the bed and slipped easily under the silken sheets. And waited. *** She heard him enter the bedroom, heard the rustling of his clothes and the covers on the bed. She heard his breathing, which was heavy. He was eager, of course, but she knew him well enough to believe it was, at the very least, a respectful kind of eagerness. He had done everything she asked, executed her requests perfectly, and in that moment, thinking about it, he decision made and the events set firmly in motion, unalterable now, a peculiar kind of calm descended upon Shalini Rao, a calm not unlike the eye of a hurricane. And the man in the bedroom was waiting, which meant it was her turn now to act. *** "Arun?" The voice came from his right, soft and incredibly feminine. He turned and saw her shadowy form filling the frame of the door connecting to the master bathroom. The moonlight did not reach that far and she was swathed in darkness, but he could see enough to know she was wrapped in a robe of some kind. He could not see her eyes, but he knew she was watching him. "Yes," he replied in a wavering voice. Her voice did not waver. "We both know what has to happen here tonight," she said quietly. "I want you to know that I love my husband very much; while it seems strange to think of it, I am doing this for him. I want to thank you for helping me. While I know you cannot help being excited to some degree, I think you are doing this for the right reasons." He nodded, hoping she could see it, but said nothing. She remained where she was, unmoving, and continued in the same clear and quiet voice. "There are certain things I know must happen," she said smoothly, "certain physical acts, but I ask that you allow me to remain in control. This is about the conception of my child and I will look back on these moment often in my life; I would like to look back on them with favor. It is important to me that everything that happens here tonight is my own doing." "I understand, Shaloo," he said softly.

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There was a long pause. "I believe you do," she said finally, "which is one of the main reasons I think you are the only man capable of this job. I have three additional requests." He nodded again. "Anything," he told her. "I would ask that you not attempt to kiss me on the lips. You may use your mouth elsewhere, if you wish, if the situation allows, but I ask that my lips remain reserved for my husband. That is my first request." "Absolutely," he agreed. "I'm aware that you are nervous and that this situation is unusual. I accept that the act will require some degree of touching. I will allow you to caress my body, I will allow you some measure of exploration, but I ask that you do so gently and respectfully. This is my second request." "Of course," he promised. "I would ask that you allow me to dictate our positioning. I'm aware that most men usually lead in these situations, but I must be the one to maintain control. I do not wish to be maneuvered into any position I do not desire. My last request is that I myself direct things." "Very well," he told her, and he meant it. She sighed softly. "It's time," she said in a voice scarce above a whisper. "Are you ready?" "Yes," he whispered, the word little more than a breath. And then it happened and the dreams of Arun Gowariker merged with the reality of his current situation as Shalini Rao deftly plucked the sash holding her robe in place and allowed the garment to fall to the floor, and stepped forward into a shaft of light that bared fully the form and figure of her luscious body. Arun blinked. He could hardly believe his eyes: Shalini Rao was the most majestic creation he had ever seen. She stood before him, naked as the day she was born, her rounded curves illuminated by the pale silver light of the moon. His blood boiled instantly. She was beautiful, simply gorgeous. He gazed for the first time upon the soft swell of her breasts. They were full and round, perfectly shaped teardrops rising from her chest, but also firm. Her nipples were small and light red and he watched them rise and fall with her breathing. His eyes trailed lower to gaze upon the woman's narrow waist and the downy swath of blonde between her legs, trimmed into a bikini cut. In the silver light of the moon, each and every thin pubic hair was visible. Matching blonde hair flowed from her head in waves, down past her shoulders, and her emerald green eyes seemed to catch all the light there was in the room and hold it there, shining like stars in the sky. Shalini let him take in the beauty of her nakedness, allowing him to look, allowing him to study. She would need him aroused, obviously, and an excellent visual was the easiest way. After a long moment she moved forward, hips swaying slightly, to the edge of the bed. He was closer now to her than he had ever been before and she was gloriously naked, and giving herself to him. Arun could hardly contain his excitement; in fact, he was nearly ready to jump out of his skin. He stared into her eyes, totally without words, utterly speechless. He was happy in that moment for the sheet covering him;

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his arousal would be quite obvious, despite the darkness. And then in the next moment, her movements fluid and graceful and unhurried, Shalini Rao slid onto the mattress of the bed and slipped beneath the covers, and suddenly her body was scant inches from his, still not touching, but tantalizingly close. The first thing Arun noticed was the heat. It emanated from her in waves; Arun felt his skin begin to prickle from the stark intensity of it. Their bodies were both primed, it seemed, and reacting to each others, and that more than anything else gave him confidence. "Be gentle," she said then, hardly making a sound, and closed the distance between them. Shalini sighed as contact was made, her green eyes wide but calm, and Arun wrapped his arms around her and embraced her, pulling her in tight, and she shivered and he rejoiced as her large breasts squished up against his chest. Gently, comfortingly, he brought his lips to her forehead. "I am here for you," he told her. She nodded once, tightly, and rolled away from him and onto her back. Her head sagged back into the pillow, eyes closed, but she arched her back and lifted her breasts just enough for her message to be clear: she was offering him her body. His cock lurched. Her breasts were truly magnificent. Turned on his side, the weight of his upper body on his right elbow and forearm, Arun gazed down upon them and thanked the heavens above once again for the opportunity now bestowed upon him. His left hand crept forward and grazed against the skin of her side, and trailed upward until it cupped the whole of her left breast. The mound was fleshy and full and round, and when he squeezed his fingers depressed the skin. He kneaded it gently, reverently, rolling it around his palm, catching the nipple between thumb and forefinger, enjoying the sensation of fondling a woman in a way (so simple and unencumbered, almost as if she were asleep) that he had not enjoyed a long time. And then his attention switched to the other: he released her left breast and swept his fingers across the valley of her cleavage, and captured her right breast and massaged its doughy bulk. The right was equally as wonderful as the left and he wanted to jiggle it lewdly, but his fingers instead acquiesced to her request and handled her body respectfully. Arun played with her tits for several moments more, alternating back and forth, relishing the sweet feel of her flesh, before he lowered his mouth again to her forehead, kissing it gently. Her eyes opened and they stared at each other, her brilliant greens meeting his searing grays, and she gave him just the barest hint of a nod. Continue, it said, and so he did. He moved lower, his lips kissing her cheek and then her neck, avoiding her mouth as she wished, slavering over every inch of her slender collarbone, and then he moved lower still and she sighed again as his lips reached the soft upper swell of her bosom. His fingers trailed over her skin and glided up her arms. She trembled, knowing what he was about to do, and he gave her only a moment's opportunity to stop him before he dipped his head.

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His mouth slid down into the bottomless valley of her cleavage and worked its way up the slope of her right breast, his nose indenting deeply into the pliant flesh as he went. Her skin had a deliciously sweet taste to it. He reached the crest, her nipple shriveled and hard as a pebble, and he sucked the little nub into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. It was only then, however, that he noticed something new: her breathing had changed. No more measured calm; her breath now was heavy. Her chest was heaving as she labored to breathe evenly. It thrilled him; this was a sure sign that while their goal was not her sexual satisfaction, she was deriving pleasure from his actions. And so his lips locked over her delectable nipple and suckled it with increased fervor, and he heard her whimper softly, almost muffled, as if she did not want to recognize how good it felt. His tongue flicked against the tip, tickling her, and his teeth nipped lightly at her nipple, and she tensed and caught her breath. He switched to gentle nibbling, pulling back with his teeth and stretching the nipple out from the rest of her breast like a piece of taffy. She gasped. "Arun . . ." she breathed. He raised his head and looked at her, their faces scant inches apart. Her eyes were wide and bright somehow even in the darkness, but calm, and so achingly deep and beautiful. Another moment passed between them and Shalini's head fell back against her pillow: she would allow him again to continue. And so he did. *** Shalini Rao was conflicted. She no longer second-guessed and doubted her decision: bringing Arun Gowariker into her bed was the easiest way to avert all the drama and trauma associated with the alternative, which was bringing her husband's sterility to light. No, circumventing that situation by any means necessary, including what amounted to adultery, was vital. Shalini was conflicted now, however, as she lay on her back on her bed with the young man perched on his side to her left, his body firm and warm, his lips and mouth slobbering over her breasts, because she was not supposed to be feeling the way she was feeling about what was happening. She was not supposed to enjoy it so much. She wanted to feel a connection, yes; she did not want to look back on the experience of conception as an emotionless, impersonal round of casual sex, and that required walking a fine line, which was proving difficult. Already the line was blurring and the night had hardly begun. She had not yet even seen the whole of him, nor had his actions and caresses traveled anywhere lower than her ribcage, and rarely did she derive much pleasure from it when Harsh suckled her breasts, but something about the way Arun was touching her was intensely pleasurable, and she worried about what that might mean for the rest of the night. She could sense his need; it crackled like sparks in the air. His every look and movement spoke of thinly veiled, carefully restrained desire. He was holding back, trying hard to respect her wishes, to grant her requests, and she knew he would strive to restrain himself most of the night. His youthful crush on her was well-documented; it was not every day a guy got the chance to bed his high school dream girl. She was hoping that element of their history would not derail her plans.

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Thoughts of his desire reminded her just exactly what her situation was: she was in bed with a man who was not her husband, this man wanted her, he was pleasuring her, and the space between her legs tingled at the thought of what more was to come. Not exactly how she had imagined things going. "Wait," she said suddenly, and instantly he pulled his lips from her breasts and froze. She would need to let things simmer down a bit, and so she added, "Lie back." He again did exactly as he was told, rolling away from her and onto his back. She took in the sight of his chest: hard and toned and hairless with nary an ounce of flab. He was a very good-looking guy with a very attractive body, she had to admit; her best friend's scrawny little brother had morphed into a serious hard-bodied hottie. She touched his shoulder with a single finger and his body twitched, but settled as she stroked the finger down over his strong bicep, testing its feel. The other, she was sure, would be equally strong. Another finger joined the first and they walked delicately together towards the center of his chest. Arun groaned, and tried to stifle it. She toyed with his navel and traced the ridged pattern of his abdomen: his six-pack was pronounced. He shifted his weight suddenly and the silk sheet slipped down, holding just high enough to keep him decent. She could see the hard column beneath the thin material of the sheet, hovering, waiting to emerge. And so she pulled the sheet aside, needing at least briefly to see and know the tool by which she would become pregnant, but the sight of it caught her totally unprepared: it was the biggest and most beautiful penis she had ever seen, easily seven inches long and brutally thick. His testicles were heavy lumps hanging below. Time seemed to slow as she studied the erection before her. It was striking, long and hard and purple and throbbing. Shalini was an incredibly sexual woman and the urge to take the meat before her and gobble it up was nearly unbearable, but she restrained herself; despite her fondness for giving them, blowjobs served little purpose when the goal was procreation. She licked her lips, however, an involuntary reaction to what lay before her, and felt the wetness grow between her legs, as if knowing her sex would need plenty of help fitting his sizable cock inside it. The only sound in the room was the harshness of Arun's labored breathing. She met his eyes for only a moment; the gray pools were churning, wild with desire. And so she rolled onto her back and dropped her head once again to the pillow, and closed her eyes, and waited for him to do what he would with her. She did not want to lead, she decided then, although she would maintain the power to stop or change any particular move or position. He received the message loud and clear. His hands went to her creamy breasts again and cupped them gently as he bent forward and flicked his tongue over each nipple in turn. His mouth closed over her left breast and suckled it with more fervor than before, and she felt herself spinning as pleasure washed over her. And then his hands trailed lower over the smooth plane of her stomach, fluttering along her sides and caressing her with feathered strokes, dancing across her exposed skin, and then they moved lower and Shalini gasped as a finger slid into the small tendril of blonde curls below her navel, holding there for only a moment, giving her just enough time to stop him before it slid farther still over the slick pink folds of her vagina.

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Shalini whimpered and he froze again, waiting. When she did not say anything (knowing she should, knowing this was not exactly what she wanted, but too wrapped up in what was happening to care), his finger moved again and slithered inside her, penetrating her outer lips, slipping smoothly between the puffy folds before retreating and rising to apply gentle pressure on her swollen little nub. He circled it once, twice, three times slowly, the stiffened pink tissue saturated with juice from the depths of her pussy, and flicked at it with the flat of his thumb. And in that moment two things were quite suddenly and thrillingly and terrifyingly clear: Arun Gowariker knew what he was doing and Shalini was in a great deal of trouble. *** His mouth still worked its wonders on her big fleshy breast as he strummed the underside of her clitoris, but the mind of Arun Gowariker was alive and spinning wildly with awe and absolute delight as he pleasured the one woman in the world he assumed he would never have such times with, the girl of his adolescent dreams: Shalini Rao, breathtaking and beautiful and nude and beneath him, and allowing him access to the whole of her succulent body. And it was time to seize the opportunity by the horns, as it were. He dropped his head and peppered a series of kisses around her tummy before moving lower still, his hands pushing gently on her legs. She gasped, and not for the first time, but they parted easily and swiftly he was between them, staring down for the first time on perfection. Bathed in a beam of silvery moonlight, it was easy for him to see her pussy was a pretty shade of pink, the kind of pussy other women envied. It was perfectly crafted with long thin lips of minimal bulge, pursed together tightly and nicely contained, the clitoris set near the top of her labia and protected, but visible and accessible. Above, the swath of blonde curls was trimmed neatly but still held a great deal of character, while the lips themselves were waxed completely. Arun could feel the heat radiating from her nether regions and wasted no time, not wanting Shaloo to halt his progress. It proved to be a very wise move: her body quaked violently when his mouth pressed firmly against her tight wet folds. "Arun!" she cried. Her voice was shocked; it was clear she had not expected him to go so far. It was also clear, as the outrage in her voice faded away, that she would not stop him. "Oh my god, what . . . what are you . . . oh my god . . . oohhhhhh . . . mmmyyyyy . . . ggggoodddddd!' He suckled her clitoris, wrapping his mouth around it, and kissed and nibbled every inch of her slit, his lips skirting down the glistening folds, his quick and experienced tongue flittering across her puffy lips. Her juices flooded over his mouth and cheeks and chin; she was on absolute fire. He raised his head and devoured the sight of her naked, glistening body, breasts rising like melons from her chest, her slender figure and bounty of golden hair, face frozen in a pleasure-filled grimace. He relished the subtle aroma filling his nose: sweet and saccharine, and altogether edible. In addition to looking good, her pussy smelled good and tasted good, too, although Arun would have expected nothing less. He could hardly believe the amazingly sensual creature sprawled out before him was Shalini Rao, the object of his ultimate fantasy. Which was now coming true.

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And true also were the sensations the woman herself was experiencing. Shalini gritted her teeth as his momentary pause ended and his lips descended upon her again, capturing her swollen lips of her labia with his teeth and nibbling at them as his fingers spread them wide, granting his mouth better access. He dragged the flat of his tongue languorously across her engorged clitoris, unrelenting as he ate her thoroughly. His lips encircled her clitoris and suckled it vigorously, rolling his tongue around the throbbing surface. He teased the entrance to her sex with his finger, making his intention clear, and when again there was no objection, Arun plunged it inside her to the second knuckle. Shalini moaned loudly, giving up, and her hips began to tremble and her thighs began to quake, and she realized there would be no turning back for her. Her green eyes fluttered open and she wearily lifted her head to look at him, but only the top of his head and the sinewy muscles of his back were visible as he labored between her thighs.

Arun pumped his finger in and out, in and out of Shalini's sopping wet hole, but he did not halt the ministrations of his mouth; he continued to eat her with abandon, suckling and teasing and licking and nibbling, throwing every trick in his book at her. And Shalini, who had never been blessed with men in her life who knew much about the art of oral pleasuring of women, absolutely soared. She did not know such pleasure existed, much less was achievable. The stimulation overwhelmed her; she could not think clearly, could not think enough to form coherent sentences, could not do anything but lay there and accept the wonderful things being done to her. And then the fires raging between her legs began to spread, coursing out over the whole of her body, and her legs quaked violently, shaking and shaking and shaking, and she cried out at her own lack of control. Her body had gone completely against her; she was at its mercy. And then it paused suddenly and went rigidly still, but in the depths of her mind where her consciousness still remained active she could feel the forceful tremors waiting in the wings to strike again, and her whole body tingled with sudden, heart-stopping anticipation. In her mind Shalini pictured herself standing at the edge of a vast precipice in a flowing white robe, wind whipping her blonde hair, sun beating down on her, waiting, waiting, waiting. And then she jumped. The whole of her body quivered violently at once and clenched, rigidly straining against itself as an amazing, incredible, unspeakable euphoria clobbered her, striking her with such awesome fury she cried out almost like she was in pain. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she grimaced, and her chest heaved and her limbs wobbled and her hips gyrated and her breasts jiggled as wave after wave of intense pleasure pounded her. "OOOOHHHHHHH MMMMMYYYY GGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD!" A blood-curdling scream ripped from her throat, shattering the quiet and rattling the walls. The sound was jaw-dropping. Arun had not known it was possible for a human being to make such a sound, although when he heard it, it phased him very little. His face was smeared with sticky honeyed sex syrup, but there was more work to be done: he grinned into her twitching pussy and kept right on eating.

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Shalini shrieked and shrieked and shrieked as her senses churned and the tremors did not fade, and she nearly blacked out from the force of her spasms. After what seemed to be an endlessly long moment, her body relaxed mercifully from its compressed state and her head sagged back into the pillow, and her body melted down into the mattress. Her breathing was fitful, ragged as she gasped for air, and she felt nothing but a great tingle over her entire body. She took a little time to recover, but after a long time of silence, Arun shifted his weight suddenly and she felt his erection press sharply into her belly. He pulled back, trying not to have her notice, but she did, and without thinking she reached down and wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft, and stroked it tenderly. It was Arun's turn to gasp; he had not ever expected her to touch him there. His cock lurched in her hand, the head already slick with pre-cum as she tugged on his column. Which is why he surprised even himself when he pulled away and slipped off the end of the bed, and stood before her, gazing down. She propped herself up on her elbows to look up at him, curiosity etched on her face. "Arun?" she whispered questioningly. "It's time, Shaloo," he told her quietly. And so he reached down and took hold of her calves, and lifted them and set them to rest upon on his shoulders, bending her into a right angle, upturning her bottom, her knees bent just a bit and her dainty feet up and out behind his head. And understanding swept through the mind of Shalini Rao as she recognized exactly what was about to happen, and anticipation and some measure of fear followed as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft of his cock and guided it forward. And she gasped as the head of that cock, hard and pulsing and terrifyingly thick, pressed against the swollen lips of her pussy, stretching them around its mushroom form. He paused then, his dark gray eyes thoughtful as he gazed down at her, searching hers. She knew exactly what he was looking for: final approval. And so she gave it to him. "I'm ready, Arun," she breathed. And so Arun Gowariker fulfilled his longest-held dream, his deepest desire, his ultimate fantasy, and pushed himself slowly inside Shalini Rao, stretching her pink folds wide as her pussy swallowed up his cock. The feeling was absolutely indescribable, fiercely tight and blisteringly hot; Arun was euphoric. Shalini was also caught in the throes of unexpected pleasure; never before had she felt so full. It felt like she was being split in two, halved by and packed full with cock, and yet the feeling boggled her mind: quite incredible! She tried her best to relax, breathing in long and slow intervals, trying her best to remain calm and not become overly involved, the same struggle she had been waging the whole night, but this, too, she knew, would be a losing battle. Conception, however, was still the goal; that much, at least, remained clear in her mind, and her hands slipped under her bottom, palms up and cupping her cheeks in an attempt to open herself up wider and facilitate the movement of his sperm. Arun did not know how long he would last, which was an unfamiliar feeling for a guy who prided himself on

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his control. The visuals alone nearly did him in. Shaloo was flat on her back, nude body quivering, abundant breasts looming off her chest and heaving as she breathed, feet and legs high in the air with the latter resting on his shoulders for support. Her blonde hair was a nest of hair around her head, her brilliant emerald eyes were wide and watching him intently, and his cock was jutting lewdly out of the pretty pink entrance to her sex. He leaned into her, his hands gripping her thighs to keep them flush against his shoulders, and staved off the urge to bury himself deep inside her, knowing instead she would prefer he take it slow. Instead, he pressed deeper at a leisurely pace, with immeasurable control. And then he bottomed out, his pelvis coming to rest against her upturned bottom and the exterior of her pussy, and an instant later his eyes met hers. Shalini bit her lower lip, knowing what must come next: thrusting, when she would actively fuck another man. She steeled herself further and her fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, her breaths coming in fast, ragged gasps. Her green eyes smoldered. She nodded once, decisively, and he gingerly withdrew, and she gasped as she felt the interiors of her vagina sucked out her opening as they clutched at the thick invasive shaft. Arun removed all but the thick mushroom head, the ridge just peeking out beyond her folds. And then he thrust forward. "Ooohhhhhh!" she groaned, eyes squeezing tight as pleasure wracked her whole being. The cock seemed enormous inside her, bigger even than before, the veins of his shaft sliding against her silken inner walls. It was like she was being skewered; she fully expected her body to just split in half at any moment. Unconsciously, her hips lifted and rocked forward to grind against him, and when he withdrew a second time she began to move with him, and soon a rhythm was established, a back-and-forth, thrustand-give motion as he drove against her thighs and their bodies began to act as one. And as the pace quickened and the force of his thrusts increased, and his legs slapped against her supple bottom with every downward stroke, Shalini dropped her head back to the mattress and a long series of groan-like gasps escaped her lips. Heaven, she thought without realizing what such a thought might portend, was the cock of Arun Gowariker. Arun, meanwhile, continued to pummel the pussy of his buxom blonde dream girl, all notion of gentility gone, his hips slamming forward and down again and again, driving the meat of his cock deeper. Her tightness hugged at his thickness and slick, sloshing, sucking sounds emanated each time he slipped in and out of her. It took everything he could muster not to climax on every thrust . . . and the euphoric look writ across the face of the beautiful woman did nothing to help. "Oh my god," Shalini moaned, body straining to the break point. "Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD, OHHH MYYY GGOODDD!" She felt like she was strapped to a firecracker, spiraling higher and higher through the air towards a fateful place in the sky, and any second she knew she would explode. Her ears rang and her flesh burned, and each breath was a panted whimper. Arun continued to pound into her. His leanly muscled skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, the tendons in his neck and shoulders pronounced from his exertions. His fingers skimmed down her thighs and tightened on her ass cheeks, replacing her hands so she could grip the mattress to steady herself, and held her in place as he drove into her harder. The bedsprings creaked and the headboard banged against the wall. He was fucking her

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with reckless abandon . . . and she seemed to be responding to it with more than just conception on her mind. "Shaloo," Arun grunted, "I'm close . . . I'm close . . . " Her eyes flew open. "Inside me," she told him breathlessly. "Don't stop until I'm full!" Like the anxious silence before the start of an opera, when the whole of the audience knows what is coming and is blissfully powerless to stop it, Arun knew exactly what was coming, and so, too, was he fantastically powerless to stop it. Deep in the pit of his testicles, the rumble began. And then detonated like C-4 strapped to his balls. He groaned and thrust forward to the hilt, holding there, and his grip on her ass slackened and her legs slipped from their place on his shoulders and down into the crooks of his arms, held in place there by the strength of his biceps. He hunched forward and his cock lurched, and erupted with spurt after spurt of creamy seed, launching his syrup deep into her quivering pussy. The steaming spunk splashed against the walls of her womb in wave after wave as he unloaded, and the feeling of his cum smothering her insides pushed Shalini over the edge herself, and she toppled into the blackness below. Her body dissolved into one massive, violent contraction, her glossy lips drew back in a snarl and her toes curled as tingles struck at every inch of her body. The world blurred and Shalini felt nothing but the burning fires fueled by her cock-filled cunt; the bed, the pillow, the male body above her, nothing. She felt as though she would float away were it not for the penis embedded deep within her. She moaned, and moaned again and again at great length; there was no air left in her lungs to form words. Her sounds of pleasure only wreaked more havoc upon Arun's already lambasted loins. He added a guttural groan of his own as his balls emptied the last of their cargo up through his shaft and into her depths, and he collapsed forward in a heap on the bed, exhausted. They lay shivering in silence for a long time, recovering, bodies melting into the mattress. The hum of the heating system and their labored breathing was all that could be heard, and the light of the moon through the balcony doors was still all the light there was in the room. Arun rolled over onto his back, one arm still strewn across her stomach, and moments later something very unexpected happened: Shalini snuggled closer to him, her sweat-dampened body pressing against his. He looked at her, her gorgeous nude body, slim and delicate and curving in all the right places, and glistening under the pale glow of the moon, and waited. "Thank you," she whispered into his neck after a while. "You're welcome," he told her, and meant it for more reasons than one. Shalini smiled shyly, knowing what he meant, and nodded, and then suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of fatigue. Her body was still ringing from the afterglow of her mind-shattering orgasms; she yawned and her eyes fluttered closed, and she snuggled back against Arun, not caring about the way his deflated cock rested gently against her thigh. And the pair of them slumbered long into the night, nestled together. Back to index

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by Angrez

It was Sunday afternoon and Harsh was in the back yard, working out with his free weights. Shalini was upstairs in the master bathroom, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around her head, still unclothed, and staring at herself in the mirror. Her right hand was resting on her stomach, wondering if things were happening within. It trailed up and her fingers danced across the rounded flesh of her breast. Her thoughts had been dominated by images of the night three nights before, the night Arun Gowariker came to her in the darkness and the moonlight, and ruined her. It was all she could think about: his cock, its thickness, the way it filled her; his hands on her breasts; his mouth between her legs. She could practically feel his tongue inside her even now, tasting her, probing her, and the thought of it never failed to send shivers down her spine. They had fucked once more in the soft orange light of the morning, on the bed and on their sides with Arun spooned up behind her, his hands free to caress her body down the whole of its length. It had been a leisurely kind of fucking, an intimate kind of fucking, the kind of fucking Shalini had believed was reserved for and could only occur between a husband and wife. Still, she had not stopped him when he maneuvered her into position just after they woke up, strumming her clitoris with his fingers to prepare her before lifting her leg and pushing himself fully inside. He nuzzled her neck with his nose and lips as he fucked her, kissing it tenderly, and after his fingers and cock brought her to another excellent orgasm, he spurted his seed inside her again with a grunt and a growl, filling her completely. And then he had showered and cleaned himself up, and headed out of town to visit a friend in Vegas to complete the deception, and they had embraced at the door and smiled at one another, and she promised to call him with news, and there had been little else. Both of them had seemed a little embarrassed once they were out of the surreal atmosphere of the bedroom. And Shalini had cleansed herself thoroughly and washed the sheets, erasing any and all evidence of her honorable infidelity, and Harshvardhan had returned some time later that day, eager himself to try again to make a baby. And so she was fucked twice more that Friday, once in the bed and once in the shower, but the feel of her husband's penis was nothing like the feel of Arun's cock, and that particular revelation troubled her deeply.

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And she was determined to do something about it. *** Arun had not heard from Shaloo since leaving her house on Friday morning, but thoughts of her filled his mind to the point that there remained room for little else. His friend in Vegas tried a few times to pin down what exactly was wrong with him, knowing his mind was not fully right, but Arun passed it off as fatigue from the move from Delhi and the process of unpacking and setting his affairs in order, which was an ironic turn of phrase. He returned Saturday night to find Madhurima boozed up via a bottle of wine, horny and ready for his cock, and he buried her for more than two hours, the vast majority of which was spent trying to shake free the image of Shaloo Rao. Madhurima was gorgeous, which helped, but still he struggled mightily against the image of two emerald green eyes. When his phone rang on Sunday afternoon, Arun was out running odd and ordinary errands by himself, Madhurima off at another audition. His hopes leapt, and then leapt again when they were realized. "Shaloo?" he answered hastily. "Arun," she said in a low voice. And instantly his day changed. *** Harshvardhan finished his workout late in the afternoon. It had been a long one, more than two hours, but it felt very good to hit the weights and work the treadmill; there never seemed to be enough time for such things. He went inside the house and called out for his wife, but there was no reply. He walked into the kitchen, looking for something refreshing to drink, and saw a note taped to the fridge: Out shopping, home later for dinner, call if you need me, Love, Shaloo. Harshvardhan smiled, knowing how much his wife loved to shop. She could be gone for hours, which was fine, as he could watch some Sunday football for once. One thing was strange about her note, however; she called herself Shaloo. It had been years since she went by that particular nickname, as his family had taken to calling her by her full and proper name. Strange, he thought, but then again, with Shalini every day was an adventure and he never really knew what he was going to get. He reached for the house phone and dialed her number, and she picked up on the fourth ring. "Hi, honey," she said, sounding slightly out of breath. Harshvardhan grinned; the way Shalini shopped was more than enough of a workout for anyone, bouncing from shop to shop. "Hey, babe," he said. "How's it going?" "Fine," she told him, "but I'm right in the middle of something. Can I call you back in a bit?"

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"Sure, love," he replied. "No worries. I'm gonna shower and get cleaned up. Just call me when you're on your way home." "Ok, sweetie, bye," she said hurriedly, and the line went dead. Women, Harshvardhan thought with a grin. *** Shalini threw her cell phone to the floor and moaned. She was standing up, her back against a wall, one leg draped over the shoulder of Arun Gowariker, his face buried in the pretty pink folds of her sopping wet and very willing pussy. The motel room was simple and unadorned, and inexpensive. It had taken them thirty minutes from the time of her call to meet, five minutes to discreetly check in, paying cash, and less than a minute for each of them to get naked once they got inside the door. And so they had stood before each other, panting, wondering just what they were doing, the pretext of conception on their minds but each of them knowing they were far beyond it, and then Shaloo had launched herself at him and covered his mouth with hers, breaking the first of her own important set of rules. Shaloo's arms locked around him and her tongue eagerly sought his, sending shockwaves of excitement sweeping through him, before abruptly she broke away, her green eyes wide and anxious as she stepped backwards, running involuntarily into the foot of the motel bed. She fell to her rump on the downy mattress and he stepped forward, worried, but the look on her face halted him in his tracks. She looked up at him with big, wide, emerald eyes, but there was an excitement and intensity there that thrilled him greatly, and her words thrilled him even more. "Fuck me, Arun," she said fiercely. "Fuck me as hard as you can!" The vehemence of her words struck him full in the chest, but an instant later his confidence and experience and natural skill awakened in tandem, and he knew it was time for him to bring all of his talents to the fore. He grinned and pulled her to her feet, and brushed a long blonde lock of hair from her gorgeous face. Without a word, he kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then her other cheek, and then kissed her square on the mouth again. He pulled her close and squeezed her tight, and he felt her shiver as his arms encircled her. His mouth enveloped her pouty red lips, kissing her for all her was worth. The tension was growing; the room absolutely crackled with it. Arun's fingertips glided down her back, pressing ever-so-lightly into her skin, and swept out over the curve of her rump, and cupped her taut ass cheeks. He tenderly massaged the dimpled flesh as his tongue probed into her waiting mouth, taking everything she had to offer. His tongue twisted lazily around hers and he could easily say he adored the taste of her warm mouth.

And then he dropped to his knees without warning and roughly forced her leg up over his shoulder and buried his face in her sex . . . and then the phone rang. Which brought them to the present moment, husband crisis averted, phone tossed to the floor, and Shaloo right back to her previous place: moaning audibly as he basted her folds with kisses and licks and nibbles and tongue teases, her body shivering as he pleasured her.

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And then Arun got a wicked idea. He rose just as swiftly as he had descended, again without warning, and took firm hold of her shoulders and pushed her back against a wide swath of plain white wall. She connected with a dull thud, eyes again wide and watching, waiting to see what he would do next. His hands slipped around her sides and cupped her ass cheeks again, gripping them fiercely, and yanked her up off the ground. Shaloo was tall but super thin and therefore not heavy at all for a man of Arun's athletic strength. She shrieked as her feet left the floor, and her arms shot out around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. And then Arun wiggled her around just enough for his mushroom head to find the entrance to her cunt, and he settled her down on his cock, and she moaned and her eyes fluttered shut as he filled her completely. With her back against the wall, his hands cupping her ass, his cock buried to the hilt within her, steadily Arun began fucking her, pushing her body up and down the wall as he thrust his cock into her again and again. Shaloo's head tilted back and she screamed as he penetrated her quivering womb from a new angle, one that directly stimulated her engorged clit. His hands squeezed and massaged the cheeks of her ass as she bounced up and down on his cock. From the position they were in, Arun had perfect access to her bountiful mounds of flesh. Never one to waist an opportunity like that, he bent his head and suckled ferociously on her nipple. He moved from one to the other, slavering over her breasts, and soon her body began to tremble in a very familiar way. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, beautiful tears of pleasure. She was pressed up against the wall with his thick cock inside her hot, throbbing pussy, his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass; although Arun could not know it, this was one of the hottest, most erotic moments of her life. And then orgasm overwhelmed her once again. She climaxed, screaming loudly, tears trickling down her face as he suckled her tits, fucked her pussy hard from their upright position against the wall, and fondled her ass. She felt alive, like every nerve in her body was on fire that burned so wonderfully, so passionately, it could not possibly be explained. Hot fresh juice spilled from her cunt and drooled onto Arun's balls, and then down his leg. He felt her juices running down his skin and the thought nearly sent him over the edge, but he held it off. He fucked her, harder and harder and harder, impaling her again and again on his cock, bouncing her up and down on his cock. And after long moments, when his legs began to burn and her orgasm began to wane, Arun twisted around and carried her back to the bed, and deposited her there. She slid off his cock as she slid onto the bed, her legs splayed wide as they fell to the mattress. Her body trembled in the orgasmic afterglow. She needed little time to regroup, however, and surprised him by reaching up and grabbing him, and yanking him down onto the bed beside her. Shaloo reached up and grabbed him, yanking him down to the bed beside her. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, his cock rising like a column from his groin. She wanted more of it, she wanted all of it, and she had decided she would have it. She was long past the point of no return.

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She gripped the thick shaft and guided the head into her wet, still twitching pussy. She bit her lips as he entered her and a fresh wave of pleasure rolled over her, and then started rocking back and forth, grinding her hips in circles upon him. Her strong legs lifted her all the way up until just the tip of his head remained inside her, and then she would drop, stuffing all seven thick inches of him fully inside her. Lift and sit, lift and sit; she fucked as if he were a human dildo.

He moaned and gritted his teeth as she fucked him, her back arched, her head thrown back, her breasts thrust forward, a picture of sexual feminine perfection. "Ready, baby?" she asked him suddenly, looking down, an evil twinkle in her eye. And Shaloo Rao lifted herself so that four inches of his shaft were still deep within her vagina and twisted around on her hands and legs, rotating in a circle, and Arun groaned as his cock was clutched and tugged in a strange new way. And she began to fuck him again as she rotated, slowly enough to ensure his cock never left her velvety confines, pumping up and down and milking it, until finally she completed the circle and sat down facing away from him, enveloping all of his meat with her cunt.

The evil glint was still in her eye. "Fuck me, Arun," she ordered, glancing back over her shoulder. "Fuck me hard!" And so he did. Arun bucked his hips up as hard as he could, driving his cock deep into as she grinded her ass into his waist, and the result was brutal: she squealed and he growled, and they moaned in unison as pleasure assaulted them both. And then Shaloo reach down between her legs and stroked his balls with her fingernails, and Arun lost what little control he had left. His body tensed and cum erupted, bursting into her depths like a geyser. Stream after stream of ropy white fuck syrup sprayed over her insides, splashing against her pink walls. And sent her hurtling over the edge a second time as his cum poured into her, and she wailed and creamed all over his cock, her juices tricking out onto his waist. They quaked violently in tandem for endless moments before they collapsed back on the bed, recovering. Neither could move, so thoroughly they both had been fucked. After a while they moved closer and snuggled together, sticky and sweaty and not caring about it at all, fingers caressing gently across a wide variety of places, teasing and playful. And a little time later, cleaned up as best they could, they left the room behind, but this time there was no sense of embarrassment at all, but there was a lingering kiss on the mouth and a pointed look, and unspoken knowledge that they soon would meet again. *** Madhurima Madhwan was totally jazzed. Her latest audition had been fantastic!

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It was Tuesday in late September, just one week since she switched talent agents and the new guy, while tough on her and demanding in many different kinds of ways, was already paying great dividends. Three auditions and two call backs, and likely a third after the one tonight. Her dream of being an actress was that much closer! She dialed up the number of her boyfriend, Arun, who was at the gym. He was a great guy and a total hottie, and they had moved together to Mumbai from Delhi and now lived together in a little one bedroom apartment in Bollywood. Plus, he loved to fuck just as much as she did (which was amazing) and was, she had to admit, the best lover she had ever had. She did not know if they would end up going the distance, but she was happy enough at the moment, which was more than she could say for most people. "Hello?" Arun answered. "Are you ok, sweetie?" she asked, suddenly concerned. His voice sounded strange. "I'm fine," he told her, then grunted. "Just . . . exercising." Her smile returned. "It was awesome!" she chirped. "What was, baby?" he asked in a strained voice. "My audition!" "Oh, right," he said. "Great! Hey, can I call you back?" She giggled. "Sure, but I hope you're ready for me tonight. I've got a feeling I might need every single hole fucked, and hard." Arun groaned, although this time she figured it was due to her dirty words. "Sure thing, baby," he told her, and the line went dead. And so Madhurima hurried home, already horny, and when her boyfriend returned she would be waiting for him wearing a sexy little teddie she picked up at Freddie's in Hollywood a couple weeks earlier. It would blow his mind! *** Shaloo moaned deep in her throat and drew more and more of his thick cock into her mouth. She loved the taste and feel of him, loved the way his thickness stretched her lips wide. She brought his fingers up to tickle his testicles, heavy balls of masculinity. They were back in their motel room, Arun seated in the chair by the desk, Shaloo perched on her knees between his legs. Both were naked, Arun having spent the better part of a quarter hour already pleasuring her with his mouth until she climaxed. "Sure thing, baby," Arun said into his phone, then flipped it closed.

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Shaloo pulled away, grinning, and his cock dropped from her mouth with a lewd, loud smacking sound. "If I swallow your cum," she asked in her naughtiest voice, "will it help make a baby?" Arun groaned again, and nodded. "Absolutely," he told her gravely. "Anatomy one-oh-one." Shaloo grinned as she took his meat into her mouth once more and suckled him tenderly, lapping his length with loving strokes, taking her time to enjoy his taste. She dropped low suddenly to tease his testicles with her lips and tongue, engulfing them with her mouth, licking them gently. "Your mouth is incredible," Arun told her with a groan. Shaloo puckered her lips and enveloped the head of his cock again, and lowered her head and moaned when the mushroom head struck the back of her throat. He shuddered with pleasure and it thrilled her to know she was having such success. She brought her hand up and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, and pumped him vigorously as her lips began suddenly to suck him ferociously. She looked up and watched his face as he reacted to the change in her speed: his eyes bulged and he groaned gutturally, and then his cock lurched. Shaloo realized gleefully that she had finished him off, an instant before his voice announced she was correct. "Oh, fuck!" he cried. "Unnnhhhhhhh!" White hot cum squirted into Shaloo's mouth. The gorgeous blonde swallowed once, twice, and then a third time, but the syrup kept coming. Arun, it seemed, had unloaded at exceptional volume. She could not swallow his seed fast enough and the sticky cum dribbled out of her mouth and down onto her fingers. Arun groaned and sagged back into the chair he was sitting in, but Shaloo kept sucking until his balls ran dry and nothing else came out of cock. Then she lifted her head and slurped at the copious juice that had flowed across her hand, lapping at it like a cat at its paw. When that was gone, she took Arun's deflated member back into her mouth and suckled it tenderly, her tongue running with lazy strokes over its head. Beautifully, amazingly, his cock began to harden again. "Mmmhhpppp," she mumbled, her mouth full of his stiffening erection. She drew back and batted her eyelashes at him. "Time to fuck me, baby." Arun grinned and rose to his feet, lifting her with him. They flopped back on the bed, Shaloo on her back, and he rolled over onto, his weight settling between her knees. She spread her legs wide, her pretty pink pussy still twitching from her earlier orgasm and glistening with her wetness, and he inched forward until his cock was at the entrance. "You want this, Shaloo Rao?" he asked her, loving it when she spoke dirty to him. "Give it to me, Arun," she cried. "Fuck me! Oh god, please fuck me!" Her eyes were glued to his cock at the entrance to her depths, just beyond her puffy hole. Arun eased the head of his cock between the woman's rubbery pussy lips and pushed until the thick mushroom slid inside. The feeling, as usual, was indescribable; the buxom blonde was insanely tight. Her pussy sucked at his cock, begging for it.

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Shaloo begged right along with it. "More," she whimpered. He pushed forward until half his cock was buried. Then he paused, grinning, and her brilliant green eyes burned a hole in him. "Ready for all of it, baby?" he asked mischievously. . "Yes, you fucker! Shove it in me! Shove it . . . ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Shaloo wailed as Arun rammed the rest of his length inside her and stopped only when his balls slapped up against her ass. She wrapped her long legs around his waist as her fingers scratched trails across his back. With her heels, she pulled his hips harder against her widespread thighs. Arun began to move and the room swiftly filled with the sound of sloppy fucking mingled with low moans and whimpers. His cock bore down and her hips moved up as their bodies melded together. It was fucking, pure and simple and hard, without pretext or subtext, or the misplace of understanding. It was animalistic and unfiltered, and it felt fucking good. And it was not their first time, nor their last. *** Shaloo trudged wearily into the house, a lazy smile across her face. She had just finished another round of fucking with Arun Gowariker, this one in her car in a secluded parking lot. She had straddled him in the back seat and worked her hips, grinding him, doing all the work herself but doing it happily, and in the end she had climaxed just as he blew his load into her womb. Harshvardhan was working late, trying to get things at work out of the way before Friday and the weekend, and so Shaloo had the place to herself for a fair amount of time. She was disappointed Arun did not have more time himself, but he had promised his girlfriend a date night. Her cell phone rang mere moments after she dropped heavily onto the couch and flipped on the television. She muted the sound (the show was some primetime teenage soap with affluent and beautiful young people doing dirty, implausible things) and answered her phone. "Hello?" she asked with a contented sigh, stretching her limbs. "Wow," the voice on the other end said with a girlish giggle. "It sounds like somebody took my advice." "Asha!" Shaloo chirped. Another giggle. "It sounds like you really took my advice," Asha Gowariker said smugly. "The passion has returned, it seems. It's so obvious, just hearing your voice." Shaloo grinned. "The sex is much better now, yes," she said truthfully, not bothering to elaborate. There were few secrets between the two old friends, but that fact that Shalini was fucking the other woman's brother every second she could, not to mention trying to have his baby, was probably one bit of knowledge that would remain exactly that: a secret. There were too many disastrous possibilities should such information come to light.

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"Good," Asha said. "I'm glad. How's Arun doing?" For a moment, Shaloo panicked and her heart very nearly leapt from her chest, but then she realized the question was casual; she had promised to watch after him, after all. Asha just had not imagined Shaloo would be watching over him so intimately. "Fine," she told her friend, again truthfully. "I've met his girlfriend and she seems nice. She's gorgeous, too, which is nice for him. They're both auditioning a whole lot and she seems to have hit upon some moderate success over the past few days, or so Arun tells me." "Do you see him a lot?" the other woman asked, a curious touch suddenly to her voice. "A decent amount," Shaloo admitted, again not elaborating. "I'm the only person he knows out here, after all." Asha sighed. "Be careful with him, Shaloo," she said soberly. "You know how much he worshipped you when he was younger and I'm sure he still adores you now. Just be sure you're not too friendly. I know how you are and you don't want him to think you've sent the wrong kind of signals." Shaloo grinned as she thought of Arun fucking her. "No, I'm sure I've sent all the right signals, Asha. No need to worry." "Great!" her friend exclaimed. "So now the only question is, when are we going to see each other again? I've missed you, Shaloo." "I've missed you, too, honey," Shaloo replied truthfully. "Let's think about it and talk again next week, ok? Go take a pregnancy test or something; all the sex it sounds like you're having has to have paid off by now." "Alright, honey," Shaloo told her, and when the two women hung up, she went upstairs to the master bathroom and the second drawer on her side of the counter, and pulled from within in a small white test stick. And as she took the test, she wondered whether she would be happy to be pregnant . . . or sad that she would have to stop trying. *** When Harshvardhan returned from work, he found Shaloo sitting in the dim light of the dining room, her hands together on the surface. Immediately, he was concerned. "Is everything alright, sweetheart?" he asked, and was happy to be greeted by the biggest grin he had ever seen on the face of his wife before. She vaulted from her seat, whipped around the edge of the table and launched herself into his arms, and peppered his neck with a multitude of feather-light kisses. "I'm pregnant," she breathed joyfully, beaming. And the world of Harshvardhan Rao grew instantly brighter as he clutched her to him, squeezing her back, and dragged his own lips across her cheek until they covered her mouth.

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They were going to have a baby! *** The secluded park had changed little in the two weeks since Arun Gowariker last visited it. He sat on the stone bench, watching the wind tickle the grass and the birds flitter between the trees. When she arrived, Arun watched her move from her car to the bench and reveled in the sight of her and her incredible beauty. She was so gorgeous it hurt, it actually pained him, made worse now for his having seen every inch of her body up close and knowing exactly what splendors lay beneath the jeans and loose-fitting blouse she wore. Her hair was loose and down around her shoulders, and with the setting sun behind her she looked, again, angelic. She smiled when she reached him, an expression full of immeasurable softness, the kind of look only lovers can share. "Hello, Arun," she said softly as she sat next to him. The park was empty but for the two of them and she took his hands in hers. "Shaloo," he asked, "is everything alright?" A smile crept across her face. "I'm pregnant," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "It's yours." And suddenly the burning of his flesh and the ringing in his ears was not due to the beauty of the woman sitting next to him, but rather the beauty of the little thing growing now within her. "You're pregnant!" he whooped with glee. "That's wonderful!" She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him warmly. "Thank you, Arun," she breathed, emotion heavy upon her words. "Thank you so very much." And then she drew away and looked off in the distance, and he noticed then that there was a note of melancholy lurking beneath her happiness, barely noticeable but there just the same. "Shaloo?" he asked, his question clear in his voice. "I'm pregnant," she said simply, sadly this time, and then he realized what she meant. "Oh," he said, the word a bullet. She was pregnant: there was no more innocent reason for them to continue their adulterous rendezvous. While their sessions had grown more and more sexual, more and more overt and had now broken every single one of the rules set forth by Shaloo at the outset, more than ever about the passion and the sex and the pleasure and less about the goal, they were both in their hearts honorable people and that goal was what had convinced them they could act as they were. They were fucking for the sake of her husband's honor, as Shaloo had said, and for the sake of her marriage and her family, and her happiness in life. Now, however, the goal was fulfilled and the reason no longer existed. Further intimate relations could be no longer considered innocent and honorable in any way; they would both be cheating on their significant others for all the wrong sorts of reasons. Which is why both Arun and Shaloo would be quite amazed at that moment to know that, minutes later, she

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would be bent over the bench with Arun fucking her from behind, grunting as she whimpered, both of them hurtling towards climax. The sins of the honorable, it seemed, were far more difficult to undo than they expected. It was a quickie; limited clothing was removed, hasty action was taken, etc. When fucking in public, it was best to hurry. When the act was completed and they returned to their seated positions, flushed and satisfied, and very confused as to how they ended up fucking mere moments after agreeing their affair should end. "We cannot see each other anymore, Arun," Shaloo told him softly, hating the words she heard coming from her mouth. "I know," he said quietly. "I wouldn't be able to contain myself, if I saw you on a regular basis. You're right, it's best we take some time apart." "Yes," she agreed, and rose to her feet. He rose with her and they hugged one last time, each understanding that the next time they saw each other, there could be nothing between them. Their intimate relationship was ended. "Goodbye, Shaloo," he told her. "Goodbye, Arun," she said with tears in her eyes, "and thank you again, thank you so very much, for myself and my husband, and our baby." And they parted ways beneath the setting sun, her to return to her husband and him back to his girlfriend, and while their thoughts for a long time thereafter were of each other, neither one of them initiated contact. Which was how it was supposed to be. Back to index

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by Angrez

Epilogue: Good Intentions, Gone Bad For ten years, Manoj Mehta had worked as the day-shift clerk of the Sunnyside Motel, which as far as motels went was one of the better and nicer establishments around, and in his time he could say he had seen a lot of strange folks passing through his doors. Singles, couples, men, women, children, and all manner of pets and animals, and all of them looking for lodging. He did not have too good a memory and rarely recognized people, even when they told him they had come to stay at Sunnyside several times, some to rent by the week and others to rent . . . ahem . . . by the hour. Which is why it was surprising that he remembered the man with the cool gray eyes. If one were to press him about it, Manoj would say he supposed the reason he remembered the man was two-fold: first, he always rented the room for a night but never stayed more than a few hours at most; and, second, because of the woman he was with, who was a stunning blonde with dazzling green eyes. Oh, and several months pregnant. *** Arun smacked the luscious rump in front of him. "Ouch!" Shaloo squealed, throwing a smoldering glance back over her shoulder. "You know how sensitive my skin is, Arun!" She was on her hands and knees on the bed with Arun behind her, both of them naked in total, his cock wobbling in the air in front of him, scant inches from her upturned ass, her heavy breasts hanging beneath her, but not nearly as far beneath as her belly. She was six months pregnant and carrying the added weight very well, a little rounder in some spots but not too bad; she had only gained fifteen pounds so far. Her breasts were fuller, incredibly, her bottom a little fleshier, and her body had twice as much blood in it which made her orgasms fiercer and her skin and nerve endings far more sensitive, but for the most part, the rest remained the same.

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Dog-style was one of the few positions left for them to employ. It was important to keep pressure off her belly, and on her hands and knees was the easiest and most effective way. Of course, it also helped them combat another baby-related issue. "Is it ready?" Arun asked. "Feel for yourself, stud," Shaloo said with a giggle, wiggling her butt at him. Arun grinned and spread the cheeks of her ass apart, and gazed down at the crinkled little hole set between them. It was shiny, yes, but not overly so; he was not sure if it was ready or not, and so he walked one of his fingers towards it and rubbed around the hole, and pushed it inside. The digit slipped inside to the second knuckle, not easily as the chute was insanely tight, but not with too much trouble. Her ass was ready to go. Shaloo gasped as he fingered her anus. She had lubed her rear before she left the house, knowing how Arun felt about vaginal intercourse at the moment. She was twelve weeks removed from having his child, a girl, and Arun did not want his penis anywhere near her pussy; he did not want it to get close to the baby. And no matter how much she explained to him that things would be fine, that the baby would be safe, nothing would sway him from his stance: there would be no vaginal intercourse between Shaloo and Arun until after the baby came. Which left only oral and anal sex, of course. And so Shaloo wiggled her rump before Arun, perched behind her, took hold of her doughy cheeks once more and guided his throbbing erection to the compressed plot of her anus, and rubbed the tip against the hole. "Fuck me, already!" she bellowed, pushing back at him. Arun grinned and pushed forward, and Shaloo's bellowing turned to whimpering as the engorged mushroom head stretched her asshole wide, fighting its way inside even with the help of the lube, before it finally popped through the protective, restrictive ring of her sphincter. Shaloo's body shuddered as his cock punctured her ass, the head blazing its trail into her tight bowels, and once two inches were lodged within Arun paused, letting her adjust to his girth. When at last her whimpers subsided and the pain had turned to moderate pleasure, Arun leaned forward and worked his cock deeper, fighting his own sort of battle with control as the vice-like tunnel compressed his shaft and twitched against his skin. It was scorching hot and inhumanly tight, and wickedly dirty, and Arun and Shaloo were loving every moment. She moaned as he burrowed deeper, then gasped as he bottomed out with his pelvis snug against her ass and she realized she had all seven inches of his incredibly thick cock shoved up her ass. It was incredible; there were no words to describe how full she felt. "Fuck!" she groaned, and settled her knees beneath her to help widen the clamp of her ass. Arun began to move then, withdrawing and taking some of her with him before thrusting back into her nether hole viciously, driving his hips to meet her, his body impacting against hers with a fleshy sort of whack!

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Arun gazed down at the wonderful sight of his thick shaft sliding in and out of a pair of perfectly sculpted ass cheeks, stretching the dark hole of her anus, violating her, sodomizing her. He fought to maintain his control, something he constantly fought with Shalini, and the fact that she was beginning to squeal and talk dirty to him did not help, either. "Fuck me, Arun! Fuck me, Arun! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme fuckmeharderyoufuckingcock!"

And so Arun felt his balls begin to churn as the insane muscles of Shaloo's ass clenched and clutched and milked his invasive shaft with rhythmic precision, and his hips accelerated then as fast as they could as he hurtled toward one inevitable conclusion: erupting into her dark recesses. Shaloo took his abuse like the champion she was, wanting him to extract maximum pleasure despite her own mild degree of pain; this man had given her a baby, and so she would be indebted to him forever and would do, always, whatever he asked. And then Arun felt his balls reach their boiling point, and he growled as the eruption began. His seed, proven so potent when emptied into her pussy, flooded his shaft and spurted from its end, blowing his load completely into her ass, splashing into her bowels and trickling down her rear passage as far as it could go. Shaloo hissed and squealed, feeling the dripping sensation deep inside her, feeling so full and very much suddenly in need of a bathroom, but Arun did not relent, pumping his cock into her as he dumped the remainder of his load inside her.

And they collapsed upon the bed, weary from fucking, but satisfied greatly, and emboldened by several months of frenzied fucking in multiple ways in multiple places, none more so than in the motel at which they were currently guests. And while they never spoke about it and would likely never speak about it, both Arun and Shaloo knew that their affair was no longer a short-term deal. Neither saw any end in sight; they would be lovers for the foreseeable future. And would love every minute of it. Back to index Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. Print This story archived at http://swimstories.com/viewstory.php?sid=631

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