The Tailor - (Copied)

[hirarandi]

"Hi, I need to get a bridesmaid dress altered by Friday, will you be able to get it done in time?"

Jeanie was feeling hopeless. Her younger sister Cynthia's wedding was Saturday and she only had one week left to get this done. Now she was having a difficult time finding anyone who could finish it before the wedding.

"Well, that's the third place I've called in our area, Cynthia, and no one can get it done by Friday." 

"This is your fault, Jeanie. You procrastinated to the point where now you can't get it done in time for the wedding. What am I going to do?" Cynthia crossed her arms in frustration; she was livid. She wanted everything to be perfect and Jeanie was screwing it up.

The girl's father, Hank, who was in the next room watching a baseball game offered,

"You know, there's a tailor about two blocks away, down by that Asian store, you should go there. It's nothing fancy, but worth a shot."

The sisters exchanged doubtful looks.

"That's that Indian man that worked on John's tuxedo a few years ago. He was... weird." Cynthia made a face. 

"Weird? Who cares?! I don't care if he's weird, as long as he can get my dress altered in time." Jeanie picked up her phone. She was desperate. She wanted nothing more than to cross this off her list and get on with the other things she needed to do.

Jeanie called the tailor. A polite male voice with an Indian accent answered. To Jeanie's profound relief, the man was able to work her into his schedule and agreed to have the alterations done by Friday afternoon.

"Great!" She hung up. "He can do it!" Jeanie beamed, waving both clenched fists in the air. She gathered the dress hastily and headed out the door to meet with the tailor.

Jeanie Rossi was a classic mix of European roots and American beauty. She had obvious Italian ancestry, but was an American girl, through-and-through. Jeanie was tall and skinny with long, dark hair and flawless features. Belying her otherwise lean frame, she was also a very large-breasted woman. Her top-heavy, skinny-waisted build presented a distinct challenge when shopping for off-the-rack clothes. The bride's maid dress needed to be let out in the chest area and taken in around the waist. She had had this type of alteration done before and considered it fairly routine. 

She wanted to get the dress just right; classy but distinct. This was her first wedding since her divorce and she hadn't considered herself "on the market" officially. She didn't want to advertise the size of her "girls," as she called her breasts, just yet. She seemed to always attract the wrong sort of guys whenever she wore a shirt or dress that accentuated her breasts. Men went crazy over her tits. 

There was simply no hiding the fact that she was well-endowed, but she hoped the dress wouldn't show off her body too much.

Jeanie thought back to her three-year marriage with Don. Sex and addiction seemed to define the relationship. Don had a problem using escorts and snorting cocaine. Jeanie considered it a minor miracle that she didn't catch any diseases from that low life. The two had met at a Halloween party where she was dressed as a pirate's wench, a costume that showcased her 36G breasts.

In those days, she happily flaunted her largest assets. Back then, she absolutely loved when men drooled over her tits. And she loved having them played with. Jeanie would become incredibly turned on when a lover would focus his attention on her enormous breasts and big puffy nipples. 

After meeting Don at the party and hooking up that night, the two entered a frenzied courtship. Marriage followed shortly thereafter. It began as a passionate, physically-gratifying relationship, but Don's bad habits reared-up before too long: his cheating, his lying, his alcohol, and drug abuse. They all resulted in her suffering.

It only lasted three years, but his preoccupation with sex and drugs had taken its toll on Jeanie. Now, in her post-divorce life, she has been dressing more conservatively. Probably too much so, but it was better to overcompensate in the hope that she will not attract guys like Don into her life ever again.

Unfortunately, Jeanie began her new life as a divorcee with a chip on her shoulder, hating men in general, and especially those who made a big deal about her appearance. She even went on a date with a lesbian friend-of-a-friend to see if she could avoid men altogether, but it just made her even more uncomfortable.

Jeanie brought her attention back to her drive to the tailor. She'd left the house in a rush, and was dressed casually in shorts and a V-neck blouse with one of her more utilitarian bras. When she looked at the dress at home, she discovered that it had a built-in bra, so she wouldn't need a dressier bra for the fitting. 

She pulled in to a parking space in the shopping center that consisted of shops catering primarily to a south Asian clientele. She was relieved that she was finally taking steps to get this errand completed. She should have had this done weeks ago.

The parking lot and building weren't in the best condition and the alteration shop fit the same aesthetic. Dust and old, neglected plants lined the window. Two green, vinyl-covered seats sat to the left, a sales counter to the right. A yellowed calendar hung on the wall that looked to be of Indian origin. Was it even the right year? There were long beads hanging across a doorway; an entrance to the back of the store. The smell of incense permeated the space. 

She guessed that the tailor was Indian or Pakistani. 

"Hello?" Jeanie said cautiously, then gently rang a bell on the counter.

She heard a voice with an Indian accent come from the back of the shop. "Yes, yes. Please, one moment." 

After a brief wait, the beaded curtain parted. A short, black-haired man with a dark tan complexion greeted her with a broad, white smile. He looked to be in his forties.

"Come this way." He motioned to the back. They walked down a hallway with dirty walls and carpet that hadn't seen a vacuum for some time, past a dark restroom. At the end of the hallway, they entered a large, brightly lit room with an elevated deck surrounded by six, full-length mirrors. The space reminded her of the few other alteration shops she had been to. Dresses and suits in bags were hung on wheeled racks that were pushed up against the walls. Three tables were situated between the clothes racks with fabric and measuring tape laying upon them. 

As they entered the room, the man spun sharply on his heel to face her. He extended his hand, "My name is Ajeet." Jeanie smiled and placed her hand in his, expecting a shake. Instead, he raised it to his lips and kissed the top of it as one might do to a debutante or a Lady. 

His sudden, unexpected charm caught Jeanie off guard. 

"Oh! Okay. I'm Jeanie, nice to meet you, Ajeet." She blushed. 

"We spoke on the phone, yes? You need expedited alterations?"

Jeanie nodded.

"Please..." he motioned for her to step up, taking the dress from her. 

He put the dress on a hanger, then hung it on a nearby clothes rack and turned to Jeanie. Without another word, he smoothed her clothes against her body, and grabbed her hips and waist firmly. With tape measure in hand, he began stretching it across various places over her body. His touch was confident and firm. He seemed to take liberties in touching her over her clothes. She didn't remember other tailors doing this, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. She suspected he did this to see what type of body she had under her baggy clothes. 

He had what Jeanie felt to be expert hands; they were quick and sure. His fingers were long and she could tell he knew what he was doing. He was nimble and lithe. 

Jeanie was starting to feel a bit awkward, having this relative stranger putting his hands all over her, so she blurted out, "Thank you."

Ajeet paused briefly to regard her with a raised eybrow and Jeanie expounded. "I mean thank you for taking me on such a short notice. I don't know if you remember or not, but I need this for a wedding on Saturday."

"Yes, yes. A wedding. Saturday. I can have this completed by Friday. Now, please take the dress and disrobe. Come out with the dress on."

He motioned to one of two dressing rooms by the fitting area that had a curtain hung across the opening for privacy.

Jeanie tugged the red, velvet curtain closed. Although there was a gap where the curtain met the wall, Jeanie felt confident that Ajeet would respect her privacy. She decided it would be safe, so she took off her shorts and T-shirt, and removed her bra.

Now in just her panties, she carefully stepped into the chocolate-brown dress and wiggled it up to her hips. Plenty of space there. She worked the dress up to her torso, but it caught as she tried pulling it around her chest. She stopped to un-zip the back, then tried again, cramming her massive boobs into the tight bust area. 

She tried as best she could to fit all of her breasts into the garment.

Turning, Jeanie looked in the floor length mirror. Her bosom was bulging out of the top like some adult cartoon character. Her broad curves flowed out above the built-in cups, with her nipples sticking out way past the hem.

'I can't go out there like this. It's inappropriate.' She felt embarrassed at the size of her breasts and what the dress was doing to exaggerate their already enormous proportions.

She pushed and crammed her creamy breasts down into the dress. After several attempts, she'd managed to tuck most of her nipples into the fabric, but the dark outer rims of her areolas were still visible. She had begun to sweat from the effort. She didn't want to rip the dress, so she had to be satisfied with her breasts busting out of the top.

"Um, Mr. Ajeet?" She called from behind the curtain.

She heard him shuffle over. "Yes?" She could see his sandal-clad feet from under the curtain. 

"I can't go out there, the dress is too small." Jeanie whined.

"Miss, that is precisely why you are here, is it not? You are here to have the dress let-out in the bust and taken-in at the waist. If it fit you properly, you wouldn't need my services." 

"I guess you're right. Okay, here I come, but don't laugh." Jeanie opened the curtain and stood in the dressing room with a pout on her face. 

Ajeet did not notice how endowed the woman was when she first walked into his shop five minutes ago. He suddenly found himself looking at the sexiest sight he had ever seen, especially-as a male tailor who worked with bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses- she was like a fantasy come to life.

He had an extremely difficult time not grabbing and groping her breasts right then and there. 

Her cleavage occupied her entire chest. The curves projected outward like halves of a perfect sphere. They were wobbling from being constrained within the tight dress. Even the darker brown edges of her nipples were slightly peeking out. She had pulled her brown hair up into a makeshift bun which brought more attention to her cream-colored neck. 

He thought her breasts were divine. Perfectly accentuated by the dress. He instantly longed to see more of her. 

Jeanie watched as the tailor moved his eyes all over her body. He appeared delighted with her figure. Like all the other men in her experience, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her breasts. She was embarrassed by his attention. 

'This is exactly the sort of reaction I want to avoid.' She thought.

Ajeet looked at her waist, then back to her breasts and said, "Yes, yes, alterations are very much needed. Please step onto the fitting platform."

Jeanie stepped out of the dressing room, into the bright lights and up onto the platform. Ajeet stepped on it with her, his hands on her waist and the small of her back, pressing her toward the mirrors in front. 

Jeanie looked into the mirror in front of her. She felt awful. She had been contemplating having her breasts reduced in size, and this just reaffirmed her decision.

Ajeet's face appeared behind her, over her shoulder, looking at her through the mirror.

"I will have to touch you to get the fitting right," he warned.

Before Jeanie could say anything, Ajeet's hands were on the outside of each breast. He pressed them together, gently at first, then with growing firmness. Her breasts squished against one another, deepening her cleavage. The dress slipped slightly, revealing more creamy flesh.

He stared at her through the mirror. "Hands up. Over your head," he instructed curtly.

Jeanie moved automatically in response, jerking nervously. She awkwardly raised her arms, then moved her hands to hold her hair up in a more natural pose. She watched the man's hands press on the outside of her breasts.

Ajeet stood behind this tall beauty, pushing her breasts together with growing force. Jeanie gasped in disbelief as his hands pressed up and then inward from the outside of the garment. He smashed them together from her sides creating a ridiculous display of tit flesh. Almost half of her areolas had tumbled out visibly.

Ajeet envisioned his ample cock sliding in between the creases he was creating with her tits. Her breasts felt exquisite, soft, heavy, full. His dick was becoming erect. He made no effort to hide his growing stiffness, carelessly bumping against her with his bulge. 

Jeanie could feel the lump drag across her butt cheeks. She became tense.

"Your breasts are heavy and require extra support for a dress like this."

Ajeet moved around to her front. He cupped a hand under each breast and began lifting them in his palms. He seemed to be trying to gauge their weight and firmness.

"They bulge out of this material," he spoke clinically, as if sharing information she didn't already know. 

"The sides here will need to be held from the shoulders."

He bounced her breasts from the sides. Now, the extended bump of Jeanie's left nipple popped out. The edge of one of her areolas was becoming visible with Ajeet's shaking and handling. 

He grabbed the dress at the sides near her shoulder, turned the fabric over, and explained how he will need to re-structure the garment to fit her.

Jeanie could tell he knew what he was doing, and began to feel a little more comfortable, even though his hands were squeezing her breasts.

The fact that he was an Indian man made him seem somehow less sexual to her and therefore less threatening. She had never thought of an Indian man as a potential suitor.

He wasn't the sort of man that she had ever had romantic dealings with-one way or another-and, strangely, she felt almost as if she were at a doctor's office. 

"I will need to fit you with the cups. This requires more touching." He warned again.

Apparently, everything he was doing required a great deal of touching. 

Ajeet resumed his position behind her and put his hands below her arms. He slid his fingers into the dress and moved his hands forward. He scooped his hands against her bare flesh and pulled each naked breast out from each cup. He began gripping and feeling each one, his strong fingers dragging across her nipples. 

Jeanie supposed this was a bit excessive, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. After a brief moment of squeezing, he abruptly pulled the entire chest section of the dress down. Her tits bounced momentarily as he freed them, then rippled slightly as he adjusted the dress down.

"Oh!" Jeanie was surprised by the aggressive approach. Her nipples hardened as they were exposed to the cooler air.

She regarded her full, naked breasts, multiplied by the six mirrors, feeling quite exposed. This feeling was magnified by the bright lights. She didn't remember this happening with any other tailor. She was beginning to feel as though she was being exploited.

While Jeanie was analyzing the different angles provided by each mirror, the thin Indian man set to his work. He brandished a small seam splitter and was cutting threads and stitching here and there. He used his hands to move and reposition each bare breast often. He would regularly return his hands fully onto her breasts, pausing to lift and feel them. Jeanie couldn't stifle her gasp when he, very gently, pinched her nipples nonchalantly. He made an inquisitive sound, looking at her thick nipples between his index finger and thumb, then resumed fiddling with her seam.

Jeanie's dark red nipples became embarrassingly hard and her areolas began to shrink from the stimulation. To her surprise, his touch was causing her to become slightly aroused. She still had her hands over her head, as instructed.

Her breasts were hanging in front of her looking soft and smooth. The strange man behind her made them shake and wobble from his work. Her hard nipples pointed straight ahead. He'd pull out a stitch, palm her broad breasts, then pinch her nipples. Each time he let go, her nipples ached for more. She felt her time to protest his handling of her breasts had passed her by. 

Ajeet brusquely positioned her body to face him and used both hands to lift her left breast and reposition in its cup within the dress. He did the same for the right breast. Then, he used a piece of chalk to mark something on the shoulder. He took the breast out and scratched his chin. Without a word, he then left.

Jeanie stood there topless, waiting. She heard feet shuffling on a carpet and then a quiet "WHOOSH." The air in the room shifted slightly and she realized someone must have opened the front door to the shop, back in the waiting room. She heard the bell chime.

"Package, Ajeet!" a gravelly voice called out.

Jeanie nervously clapped her hands over her bare tits. Her small hands were no match for her ample curves, but she paused, listening, and covering herself as best she could.

She heard Ajeet's soft voice and a laugh in response. Then the gravelly voice said, "Same shit different day. See you tomorrow!"

Then there was a faint -thud-, presumably the door closing. Jeanie felt relieved and lifted her hands again, putting them on her head.

Moments later, Ajeet returned, carrying a pencil and pad of paper. He looked at her bare breasts, then to her face.

"This dress is going to accentuate your breasts a great deal," he addressed her in his clinical tone and friendly accent. "It cannot be helped, it is just how it is cut...and how you are built. I can let it out, but even when I do, it will only cover a little more than half of your breasts. It is not made for a woman of your exquisite stature." 

His gaze dropped again. Ajeet smiled...at her tits.

Jeanie ignored his compliment. It dawned on her that this fitting wasn't as professional as it should be. But something held her in place, frozen.

He stood back looking right at her bare chest. Both breasts were out again, nipples hard as nails, the dress cups were hanging to the side. Jeanie didn't object to being exposed to him. She was disgusted, but felt as though she were somehow under his control.

Jeanie thought about the wedding before commenting on his remark.

"No, that's not okay. I don't want to show too much of my breasts." 

She looked down at her naked breasts and shook her head. 'Why are my breasts exposed?' She looked back up at Ajeet and covered them with her hands as best she could.

He responded, "This is not a serious, problem. I can do two things: I can attach a piece of fabric to the top like this."

He grabbed both breasts and situated them into her cups as their size would allow, then straightened the dress over them. Her tits again bulged out indecently. Ajeet reached down to a table that had small swatches of fabric and selected a small, rectangular piece. He placed it handily over the broad tops of her tits, pressing and squeezing them. Finally, he tucked two corners of the triangle into her dress so the fabric would stay in place, covering most of her cleavage.

[hirarandi]

He stood back and looked at it.

"...which, as you can see changes the look of the dress considerably." 

Jeanie regarded herself in the mirror. It didn't look right. She sighed. "You're right, Ajeet, it would be too different from the other dresses."

"Or I can create a special bra of sorts to hold your breasts down and slightly apart," he suggested, moving before Jeanie could respond.

He was behind her again and quickly peeled the triangle of fabric away. In the same manner as before, he scooped his entire hand around each of her breasts and flopped them free, yanking the dress down to her waist. Jeanie's entire upper body was again exposed. 

Jeanie wanted to protest, but stayed silent, gently holding her hair with both hands above her head. Ajeet was behind her and they both watched as his grip returned to her breasts. His nimble hands lifted Jeanie's heavy, pale tits. He pulled them apart, then knocked them together, causing them to move dramatically. His thumbs pressed against her nipples.

Jeanie noticed he was looking at the dress from top to bottom, but while he was doing this, his hands were holding her breasts together and his thumbs were rubbing each nipple, causing them to ache with arousal.

She looked at the several reflections of her breasts in the mirror as he caressed each nipple with his long, brown thumb. 

She did nothing to stop him. Her skin felt flush and her body, hot. There was a moist heat growing between her thighs. She realized she was panting.

Ajeet lightly caressed her breasts in his hands bouncing them playfully, then squeezed before letting them fall back together. He was fondling her between his more serious adjustments. He was mixing business with his pleasure and losing track of the distinction himself in his eagerness. 

He reached back to the table and produced a small bolt of white, gauze-like fabric. He wrapped it around his hand and cut.

Before Jeanie even knew what he was doing he had the material wrapped around each breast individually, then around the middle of her back and over both breasts, creating a make-shift, strapless bra. He manipulated her expertly, increasing her arousal.

He repositioned Jeanie as he wanted her before the mirror. He pulled her dress back up and over her breasts which caused the dress to hang differently on her body.

She regarded herself in the mirrors on the brightly lit platform. Although the dress still needed to be let out, she could see how this could actually work.

"Wow! You're a genius!" Jeanie was sincerely impressed.

Ajeet smiled, turning her slightly, appraising his work. Satisfied, he moved behind her again and without warning, he pulled her dress down, this time to her ankles.

Jeanie felt a cold breeze followed by a hot, searing flash in her pussy as he did this. Now she was standing in nothing but her underwear and the strapless bra-thing he had just fashioned around her bosom. 

He stood fully behind her, reached around and grabbed her breasts from behind, then moved them up and down and put them together creating cleavage. All this while looking at Jeanie. They made eye contact in the mirror.

"Yes, this will do nicely when I make the alterations for your dress," his voice was right in her ear, closer than before. As he said this, Jeanie could feel a stiff bulge pressing first into one butt cheek, then the other, then between them in her ass cleavage.

It was obviously his dick. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed. 

Jeanie watched his movement behind her in the mirror. She could feel that her underwear was riding up behind her and revealing a lot of ass. Her pussy throbbed. She couldn't help it.

Ajeet released her fabric-covered tits and let his hands slide down her soft, smooth skin as he dipped down to her ankles. He fiddled with the dress at her ankles, taking the liberty to stare at her smooth butt cheeks, up close and personal. He leaned in, silently smelling her. The scent of her arousal was unmistakable.

He rose again, making sure to nestle his aching cock back between her ass cheeks, feeling the heat of her pussy through her panties and his pants. He fought the urge to smile and began unwrapping the fabric of the makeshift bra. Jeanie's tits again bounced free.

Ajeet couldn't help himself. He firmly gripped both breasts and abandoned all pretenses. Holding each breast, he thrust into her once, then again, then a third time, lewdly humping Jeanie in three strokes. 

Jeanie was dazed and wasn't sure what to do. It felt like she was under a strange spell. She was held in his grasp and felt the rigid tip of his bulge poke directly against her panty-clad labia. Her pussy responded to his thrusts with a gush of wetness that she hoped would not become visible through her panties.

Ajeet took a tape measure and mumbled something about measuring her inseam. He crouched behind her and positioned her feet slightly wider apart. She let him part her legs, once again holding her hands over her head. She felt like she was about to get frisked.

Jeanie was exactly where Ajeet wanted her: a state of submission, willing to go along with nearly any command, and physical prodding. He knew without a doubt that he could have his way with her. 

Ajeet's broad thumb pressed the end of his measuring tape right up against the thin, wet gusset of her thong panties. He stretched the tape down the inside of her thigh and began pumping his thumb against her aching opening. He seemed to know right where to touch her.

Jeanie held fast, growing uncontrollably aroused. She felt his fingers move against her panties. All she could think about was him plunging into her. There was only the pathetically thin barrier of her panties between them.

Ajeet moved and his knuckles dragged directly over her throbbing clit. He felt the stiff nub distinctly through her wet panties.

"OH!" she cried out in pleasure, her body seemed to act on its own, independent of her more rational mind that just wanted to collect her things and run away.

Jeanie was so surprised by the sudden contact on her clit that her knees nearly collapsed. She was embarrassed by the fact that she was inexplicably wet from all his touching, and shocked that she responded to his knuckles by pushing herself down against them to rub herself against his hand. She grinded her hips, ever so briefly, to maintain the exquisite contact of his knobby knuckles on her clit. The action was involuntary. Jeanie wanted relief. 

Just as quickly as he had touched her, he removed his hand from between her legs and stood back up.

Ajeet could tell Jeanie was a submissive and would probably let him fuck her right then and there. He wanted to continue to explore her more with his hands and fingers, but thought it best to quit before he took things too far. He was very attracted to this bra-busting woman and wanted to fuck her on the fitting platform. It was his fantasy to fuck a curvy, hot white woman in front of the mirrors, like in the porn videos he preferred.

But, he'd wanted to take his time, have his way. He had another client in ten minutes, so he reluctantly decided to get back to being a tailor. He'd have to pursue the submissive Jeanie later.

Ajeet made eye contact with Jeanie, noting her flushed, dazed expression. He put his hand on her shoulder and said directly, "we are finished here." 

Jeanie stood frozen, looking back at the Indian man she'd just met. Her huge tits ached for more as she stood there in only her panties with her hands held over her head. Her wetness was now tickling the inside of her thigh as it slowly dripped down her leg.

Ajeet continued to ogle her body in the mirror. "I will let out the fabric in the chest, reinforce the stitching in the shoulders, create a makeshift bra to support and re-form your breasts to fit the style of the dress, take in the waist and shorten the dress at the hem."

At last, he moved away from her, leaning over a table and writing everything he said onto a business duplicate receipt. He tore off her copy and handed it to her.

He stared directly at her dangling breasts. "Please, you may put your clothes on now. The dress will be ready by Thursday evening. Do you have any questions?" He seemed to be asking her tits.

Jeanie was stunned. 'What just happened?' She thought. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of arousal.

"Um, no," she stammered, then offered, "th- thank you for helping me." 

At once, she realized her absurd position. She was standing naked except her thong panties, still holding her arms over her head. In a snap, Jeanie covered her breasts with her hands and practically jumped into to the dressing room. 

On the way home, she cried aloud and said, "How could I let him do that to me!? What's wrong with me?"

Jeanie was disgusted with herself for letting the Indian tailor grope and fondle her. 

She had only been gone for an hour, but it seemed much longer. She ran into her room and shut the door. 

Jeanie had been living with her dad and sister since her divorce from Don. She and Don split everything and sold their house to divide the assets when they divorced. She hadn't found another place to live yet, so she stayed at home until she did. All she wanted now was to be alone.

In the solace of her room, she flopped onto the bed and buried her face into her pillow, letting the tears flow. She felt like a silly teenager.

She heard the familiar secret knock that only her sister knew. It was Cynthia.

She sniffled, blew her nose, and wiped away the tears as best as possible. "Come in."

Cynthia came in, closed the door, then crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, how did it go?" she asked in a snide tone. Her expression said it all.

Jeanie was genuinely sorry for procrastinating, but Cynthia's bristling attitude was only making things worse.

But Jeanie was determined to come through for her younger sister.

"It will be finished on Thursday evening," Jeanie remarked quietly, looking away.

Cynthia immediately regretted her harsh attitude toward her sister. Jeanie looked like she'd been crying. Cynthia realized she'd been too callous about her wedding and hadn't thought about her sister, still upset from her divorce.

"That's great news! So why do you look so upset?" Cynthia sat on Jeanie's bed and pet her hair. Much like her mom would do to her, before she had passed away.

"It's nothing. Just frustrated, I guess." 

Jeanie couldn't bring herself to describe what had happened to her at the tailors for some reason. 

Cynthia felt sorry for her sister. 

"Is it Don?" 

"Something like that. I think I just need some time alone." Jeanie felt like taking a nap.

Jeanie lay down to sleep. She cried some more and curled up in a ball, wallowing in her self-pity. 

She couldn't get Ajeet's wandering hands out of her mind. His mixture of gentle and firm squeezes, the way he smoothed her dress and grabbed her body. His strange mannerisms. 

She was disgusted by the skinny man. Disgusted by his fake politeness and wandering hands. His prodding fingers. His perfectly white teeth and the smell of strange spices that clung to his clothes. 

Jeanie fell asleep as she thought about the scene at the tailors.

After waking up and taking a shower, she felt a good deal better. She decided not to tell anyone about her being molested by Ajeet. 'It wasn't that big of a deal, after all', she rationalized, 'he was forced to touch me in intimate places simply by the nature of the job.'

She continued her thought process. 'I've seen tailors measure men's inseams and smooth the fabric of their jackets. I've even seen dad take his trousers off and stand there in his underwear waiting for the tailor to mark-up his sleeves. I guess what Ajeet was doing wasn't all that out of the ordinary.'

Her rationalization helped to temporarily quiet her guilty conscience. She buried the fact that there was no practical or professional reason for Ajeet to measure her inseam since she was having a dress altered. 

Jeanie worked as an account representative for a national food service supply company and had some work to do before she could fully relax. Her job had her traveling quite a bit, which could be a hassle, but the job also allowed her to work from home whenever she wanted, which was a huge fringe benefit. 

That evening, as she finished her work emails, she lay on her bed in a short, white skirt and tank top. 

She had been having difficulty putting Ajeet's wandering hands out of her mind. Perhaps she should report him. Who would she call? The security officer? If she did, how would she get her dress back? Was this more important than her being the maid of honor in her sister's wedding? Is a divorcee a maid or matron of honor? Her head was swimming with thoughts.

Ultimately, she decided that as offensive as Ajeet's creepy touching was, she never felt threatened, nor did she feel that she made even the most minimal effort to get him to stop and that the security officer would most likely not take her complaint seriously as a result. 

She was faced with the fact that she would either have to retrieve her dress and have someone else work on it this week, or be more assertive when she returned for the fitting on Friday. 

Jeanie thought back to the tailor's shop that day. She could remember the way that the Indian man handled her. He was non-stop with his touching, fondling, rubbing, poking, groping. She thought that he must use his trade to secretly touch women as he was performing his duties as a tailor.

'What a perv,' she thought, feeling a strange tingling. She dismissed admitting to herself that she was getting turned on.

She remembered very vividly the way he pressed her breasts together and took liberties with her bare, exposed nipples by twisting and rubbing them. 

Jeanie recalled his soft, yet firm and capable hands smoothing the material and squeezing her waist. He seemed to have had his hands all over her at once. She also seemed to remember him touching himself, but at the time she shrugged off the thought as being a figment of her imagination.

Ajeet. He wasn't very tall, probably just slightly taller than she was. Very polite, but somehow domineering. Again, she thought back to the way he touched her. 

He seemed to know how to touch a woman. 

She thought, 'Don didn't know how to touch me. He squeezed too hard and didn't touch me to make me feel pleasure, only to pleasure himself.' Ajeet's touching was different.

Jeanie's nipples throbbed and became hard as she thought back to the considerate, yet firm way he touched her breasts. It was like she was being worshiped by the Indian man. 

She had never in her life thought of an Indian man sexually, in fact, she could not recall a time when she thought of an Indian man at all. Now, she couldn't get the thought of Ajeet out of her mind. 

In a matter of about ten minutes, Jeanie's thoughts evolved from turning Ajeet in to the security officer for molesting her, to wanting him to touch her more and with greater license. 

She recalled his fingers and thumbs flicking and rubbing her needy, firm nipples as he was making his adjustments...while she was all but entirely naked on the platform. 

Jeanie turned on her side in her bed. 

She was experiencing inner turmoil: hatred for Ajeet for feeling he could touch her sexually without her consent, and then arousal from Ajeet touching her sexually...without her consent.

Enough. She resolved to put Ajeet out of her mind. She tried to think of the wedding, now less than a week away. How would she handle men coming up to her and asking her to dance? She wasn't ready to have a boyfriend. Nor was she ready to date. She had to be more protective of herself so she wouldn't be used yet again.

Her thoughts returned to Ajeet. That fucking perverted Indian man.

'Why was I so wet when he rubbed me? How embarrassing! His touching was driving me mad! He felt my wetness. He knew I was wet! Oh, my God!'

She rolled over onto her knees and smashed her face into her pillow.

Laying there, she could feel her heart beating wildly. Her tits mashed against her thighs and she slid her ass up into the air for more room. Why was she aroused by that man?

It occurred to her that this was her favorite position for doggy-style sex. Ass up, face down. She absently moved a hand to knead one huge breast. Her stiff nipple dragged across her palm, reminding her of his hands. 

Jeanie moved her other hand down her body. She slipped her reaching fingers inside the waistband of her shorts, between her legs. She deliberately made a V with her fingers and pinched her swollen pussy lips together, teasing herself. They were soaked. She began to stick her fingers into herself as she thought of Ajeet's fingers and knuckles rubbing against her. 

She loved how he took control of her, but hated that she loved how he took control of her.

She used two fingers to pump her little pussy inside her damp, humid shorts. Her soaked pussy was responding quickly. When was the last time she came? She couldn't remember her last orgasm.

She moaned deeply into her pillow. Her orgasm was building rapidly. She took a deep breath and held it, spreading her legs wider as she fucked herself with two fingers. The sounds of her drenched pussy were loud and she became concerned that someone else may hear the sloppy smacking of her fingers. She was forced to slow her pace.

Her thoughts were a collage of brown hands squeezing her white flesh, rubbing her pussy, softly pinching her nipples. His overly polite voice was giving her fantasy commands in her head:

"Please, get on your hands and knees; please, open your mouth; please, place my cock in your mouth..." He commanded with his friendly Indian accent and she obeyed. She envisioned performing oral sex on the Indian man. She saw herself on her hands and knees, her head bobbing as he sighed contentedly. She tried to imagine sucking on his brown, uncircumcised penis. Would it taste different?

She fucked herself rigorously wanting his thick cock inside her. She rocked her body back onto her fingers, kneeling on her bed with her face buried in her pillow, moaning loudly.

A mental image flashed in her mind. Ajeet was staring at her, his gaze intense, as his hands held her bare breasts from behind. His thumbs were rubbing her nipples. Recalling this specific position, his fondling her overtly. There was something about this action that really got to her. It occurred to her that it could serve no other purpose than to fondle her breasts. It was by no means related to tailoring her dress.

Jeanie came immediately and very powerfully. She screamed into her pillow, her body melting with pleasure. She sucked in a breath, then just bit down on her pillow as hard as she could, moaning quietly and pathetically. The intense crescendo made her body shake as she clutched her breast and grinded into her own hand fucking herself.

She returned to earth, blinking her eyes open. She sat up, pulling her face out of her pillow. A string of drool connected her mouth to a wet spot where she'd drooled on her pillow. As she recovered, she hoped her sister and father couldn't hear her from the other room.

After her very confusing but gratifying orgasm, Jeanie had an uneventful evening staying at home helping with her sister's numerous panic attacks about the wedding. Later, she watched a movie with her dad.

That night as she prepared for bed, she had a very difficult time not giving in to temptation and masturbating a second time to thoughts of Ajeet and his wandering hands.

Over the next few days, the wedding took up most of Jeanie's free time. She was working in the mornings at home so she would be able to help her sister prepare for her special day; this Saturday. Jeanie found it was difficult to watch someone else get married while she had such an awful experience herself.

[hirarandi]

Her sister, Cynthia, found it difficult to watch someone as gorgeous as Jeanie become so turned-off from men and relationships because of Don. Cynthia knew that Jeanie could have any man she wanted, but she usually went along with whomever was the most persistent in pursuing her, which meant she usually dated (and married), aggressive assholes.

She had been a good sister to Cynthia. She was there for her when their mom died, now four years ago. She was there when Alex proposed and celebrated by throwing her a surprise bachelorette party. All her life, Jeanie has been the agreeable sister. It pained her to see her so feeble where men were concerned.

On Tuesday night Jeanie settled down in her room to read a book and take her mind off the wedding. She had successfully gone three days without masturbating to the strangely erotic thought of Ajeet touching her. Now, just one day away until her fitting, she could not hold out anymore.

Her preoccupation with the thought of Ajeet forced her to re-read sentences in her book. Her lack of focus finally got the better of her and she shut the door to her room and slipped out of her bathrobe.

She lay against the headboard, legs spread, and ran her finger over her tight slit. She gently massaged her own asshole and used her other hand to clutch her ample, soft breasts. She slipped a finger inside herself and continued to tease her tight asshole. Before long, she added a second finger.

Her mind filled with possibilities of what he'd do to her Thursday.

With that, her climax overtook her. She straightened her legs, involuntarily flexing her feet as she came. She imagined Ajeet on top of her, between her legs, pumping into her aggressively. She threw her head back and arched her back, sighing out with an audible, "AAAAAhhhhhh!" She fell asleep, anxious, about what may happen the next day.

Jeanie had a horrible time waiting until it was time to get ready for the fitting. Even though she felt silly, she was anticipating the session so much that she had meticulously planned her outfit and prepared herself with a long, hot shower.

She made time for her entire beauty routine, including shaving her pubic area, which she typically kept trim or bald. She wasn't sure what Ajeet preferred, but she found a nearly-bare pussy was more sensitive, so she neatly shaved her hair into a small patch.

After carefully styling her hair, she slipped into the outfit she'd prepared. A short, blue skirt, push-up bra and a lower cut white shirt, which was something she hadn't worn in years and had almost thrown away after the divorce. It revealed over six inches of deep, soft cleavage. She obviously wanted to get Ajeet's attention.

She put on lipstick and a touch of makeup. Looking herself over in the mirror, she did feel slightly embarrassed. She adjusted her top, but it didn't change the vast exposure of pale tit flesh. She considered high heels and at the last minute, went with a modest pair of slip- ons. It was time to leave.

Her heart fluttered as she made the short drive. Her excitement caused her panties to become moist. She hoped he would have reason to fondle her again, yet there was also the hope that he would just do his job so that she could be on her way.

After a hasty drive to the old shopping center, Jeanie had finally arrived.

She opened the door to smell a freshly-lit incense stick. The smoke drifting to the ceiling from its place on the dusty table in the corner of the shop.

"Ajeet?" She called out, nervously. Her hand was hovering over the bell when she heard a voice from the back.

"Oh yes. Please come back." She recognized his voice immediately.

She hesitated. 'Why didn't I ask Cynthia to come with me? Damn it.' She smoothed her revealing top and headed back.

Ajeet was standing on the platform facing her with his back to the mirrors. He was dressed in white linen slacks and a white, short-sleeved button down with brown sandals. She glanced at his crotch and thought she could imagine a shape bulging there. Or maybe his pants were pleated. 

She was already thinking about his cock.

Ajeet was immediately greeted with the stark white expanse of Jeanie's pale breasts. He stared at them, wondering if something had changed since her last visit in the baggy clothes. 

His gaze met hers. "How are you?" he inquired, but continued before she could respond. "The dress is ready. I'm certain you will be quite pleased." He smiled. 

"That's wonderful! Thank you!" Jeanie was happy she would at least get the dress back ready for wear at her sister's wedding Saturday. 

"Please disrobe in the dressing room," he instructed politely, then dropped his gaze to her tits as she crossed to the dressing room. "You will need to remove the bra for the fitting." Ajeet turned to get the dress from the hanger. 

"Here is the dress. I hope you like what I have done to it."

Jeanie dragged the curtain closed, but made no attempt to secure it. She pulled her top off over her head, letting her hair tumble down, and removed her bra, allowing her breasts to tumble free. She slipped out of the tight skirt. She stood there, topless in a black thong, regarding herself for a moment before stepping into the dress. She pulled it up around her huge, naked breasts. 

She held her hair up and looked in the hazy dressing room mirror. 'Wow! He did a great job! It fits nicely!' She looked the dress over, smoothed the fabric down her legs and tried to get a feel for what the bust looked like when zipped up.

She held her hand across her chest to keep the dress up with her right hand and lifted the lower end off the floor with her left.

Ajeet was waiting when she came out to the platform.

Jeanie noticed his expression changed from a welcoming, polite smile to a lustful stare.

She had seen that look before. 

He held out his hand near her shoulder and she placed hers in his. "Step up please." He led her by the hand and she stepped onto the platform. 

Jeanie immediately noticed Ajeet's erection as he stood to her side. There were no pleats in his pants. He was sporting an obvious bulge.

He let go of her hand and put his hands on her waist, situating her before the mirrors. Standing beside her, he reached and grabbed the zipper on the back of her dress. She looked over at him and he nodded. Jeanie placed her ample breasts into the dress cups as Ajeet zipped the zipper.

The dress fit her, but the nature of the cut of the dress once again caused her bosom to spill out of the top. She could technically wear it to the wedding, but she would be the focus of every heterosexual man in attendance. 

It needed to be toned down.

"Oh no." Jeanie pushed her breasts apart and tried to pull the top of the dress higher to accommodate her, but it didn't do much good.

"Remember the brassiere I made. That will help." Ajeet reminded her.

"Yes. Can we try that?" Jeanie looked into the mirror at Ajeet as she asked the question.

As she asked, her eyes moved down to his crotch. His pants were stretched outward, tenting the fabric revealing his sizable erection.

Jeanie's heart began beating faster, then it nearly beat out of her chest when she looked back up to his eyes to see he noticed she had been looking at his crotch. He seemed to have paused his response until she finished looking at his groin.

"Yes, of course. That was my plan." He assured her, smiling. "For this, you will need to sit down."

Jeanie's face burned with guilt. He knew she had 

checked him out.

But Ajeet made no comment of it. He seemed all business as he lifted a short, padded chair with a low back onto the platform and centered it in front of the mirrors. He pat the seat indicating she should sit.

"Please. Sit." He commanded.

Jeanie arranged the dress so she could sit down. Looking at nearly half of her breasts as they stuck out from the top. She looked like she was a stripper, or an adult film actress.

Ajeet retrieved a small roll of fabric that matched the tone of Jeanie's skin fairly well. He had a roll of white medical tape and scissors. Placing these on the table nearest the platform, he walked behind her. She felt a tug at her back and heard the zipper going down. He'd unzipped her without warning. She clutched the sides of the chair, feeling her breasts tumble out.

Jeanie's heavy breasts dropped down to a more natural position. Her nipples popped over the loose fabric, shrinking in the cool air of the shop. 

Ajeet walked around the front of the chair. Standing over her, he pushed the front of the dress down to her waist. Her dewdrop tits hung bare and heavy between them. As he'd done last time, the tailor grabbed each breast in one hand and squeezed them together. He lifted them from the bottom and pressed them together playfully. 

Jeanie arched her back thinking that he was manipulating them for the makeshift bra. But her natural reaction to having her tits played with was to become aroused, and this time was no exception. Her nipples hardened, aching to be touched.

With her breasts thrust forward, and Ajeet's hands lifting them up, they stood out a foot from her body.

Ajeet shifted forward slightly. Jeanie felt her nipples lightly graze the fabric of his trousers. This light touch only exacerbated their stiffness. Ajeet seemed lost in revelry and he manipulated her breasts so that her nipples dragged back and forth across his tented crotch area.

Jeanie was becoming increasingly wet and her cheeks were flush. Her head was spinning and she caught a glance of her face in the mirror. She recognized the desire in her own face. She looked down to see Ajeet's bulge actually touching her exposed breasts and nearly lost it.

How could this weird little man be such a turn on to her? 

After a few moments of rubbing, Ajeet "arranged" her breasts, mostly he was just feeling them, and began wrapping each much the same way he did the other day. 

"Please pay attention to how I wrap your breasts so you can replicate the procedure when you wear the dress."

He moved his body to her left side and began wrapping her right breast.

As Ajeet leaned over her, Jeanie could feel his hard cock press distinctly into her soft left breast. 

There was no doubt about it, Ajeet was stiff as a board and taking every opportunity to drag his bulge against some part of Jeanie's body as she sat there keeping still.

He gave her instructions as he wrapped her, maintaining his professional tone.

"Wrap the fabric around your back now and catch with the other hand. It can be tricky, you may need help."

Jeanie was only partially paying attention. It was difficult to focus when he was rubbing his bulge all over her body.

When he was finished, he unwrapped her and explained how to wrap each breast in detail. He lifted each in his hands, pressed against them and caressed the nipples as he spoke. 

Despite her distracting arousal, Jeanie did this for herself after his example. It wasn't as perfect as Ajeet's wrap job, but she was able to get the gist of the process.

When she was done wrapping and taping her breasts, she found it odd that Ajeet helped her unwrap them once again. Shouldn't they see how the dress looked with her breasts wrapped? She wondered.

Instead, he helped her step out of the dress entirely. Ajeet hung the dress carefully on the nearest rack to the platform.

Jeanie sat with her back arched, bare-breasted and naked, save for the thong she was wearing, as Ajeet rolled the fabric back up and walked behind her.

"Please place your hands behind your back for a moment." He commanded.

Without as much as a second thought, Jeanie put both of her hands behind her back.

She felt Ajeet's smooth touch on her wrists, then the fabric. He was wrapping her wrists together behind her. Ajeet gently and slowly bound her hands at the wrists with the fabric he was using to create her bra. 

Jeanie's heart beat out of her chest.

She said nothing.

Jeanie's breasts stood out as her hands remained behind her back. She couldn't move, but she didn't really test her restraints. Jeanie was held in place more as a result of her being completely under the spell of the strange man, and not so much as a result of his tying her hands together.

Ajeet walked around in front of her. His hungry eyes were locked on her heaving breasts as he slowly unbuttoned his pants. He slid his slacks down stepping out of his sandals and the pants in the same motion.

He was smiling, but totally silent as he rose to stand before her.

Jeanie's eyes moved from his smiling face, down his body to lock upon his thick, dark brown tool. It was bigger than she expected; easily longer and wider than Don's. He was uncircumcised. Did that make it look bigger? It was the biggest she had ever seen in person. She noticed a wet drop appear at the tip as she stared at it.

She began to salivate.

Although she was a bit nervous, she did not feel threatened. Her pussy was soaking her underwear.

Ajeet unbuttoned his shirt, amused that his prey seemed spellbound by his cock. She didn't take her eyes off of it as he stepped up to her, completely naked, brown and hairless and toned. He stroked his cock in front of Jeanie, the woman who had occupied his every waking thought since he first set eyes on her. 

He knew she wouldn't struggle, nor would she report him. She was submissive, and she was interested, at least at some level. He could tell as much by the wetness he felt last time, and her lack of effort to cover herself. 

He bound her to ensure that he had unfettered access to her heavenly tits. 

Jeanie was in a dream state. She could sense what was happening. Understand what the tailor was subjecting her to, but she could not move. She was excited, but didn't know what to do. Part of her was relieved that he bound her for now she wouldn't have to worry about her role. 

Ajeet was in charge. 

Jeanie's enormous breasts were now on full display. Completely and thoroughly accessible. Her pulse rate increased, her skin's sensitivity was heightened. She could not remember her nipples being harder or more erect than they were now.

She needed his hands on her.

Ajeet walked off the platform to a small shelf that sat on a table near the corner. He came back with a scented oil.

Standing over Jeanie, he uncapped the bottle. As they both watched, Ajeet let a long drizzle of the amber-colored oil drip from the bottle onto her skin. Jeanie's skin felt electric as it erupted in goosebumps. Ajeet slowly allowed the oil to drip luxuriously, collecting around her hard nipples. 

He paused for a moment to admire Jeanie's perfectly formed, snow-white tits. He was a breast man, through and through, and these massive melons were the best he'd ever seen and the biggest ones he'd seen in person. He watched them heave as Jeanie breathed nervously and squirmed, although she did not seem to struggle. 

Jeanie felt her breasts tingling from the scented oil. It smelled of spices. It smelled of sex. It was intoxicating. She breathed deeply, watching Ajeet as he squeezed oil onto his hands, then coated his cock too. She inhaled again, then closed her eyes in an effort to quiet her anxiety about being tied up in front of the strange man. He seemed to be harmless. Very forward, and domineering, but harmless.

Before she could continue the thought, a sudden rush of pain opened her eyes in shock.

Ajeet was twisting her sensitives nipples, his oily fingers pinching her sharply.

"Ugggh!" She moaned in what immediately sounded more like an exclamation of pleasure, and less an outcry of pain. Jeanie hated her nipples being twisted like this. 

The man who had the magic hands suddenly turned into a heavy-handed clod.

There was more. Jeanie sat watching helplessly as the man flicked and tugged, yanked, pinched, and squeezed on her nipples. Tears came to her eyes, hoping he would stop. But she made no sound of protest, no word of complaint or disapproval. She wasn't sure why.

As he continued roughly manipulating her oily tits, the teasing and torture soon turned to a warm sensation. Jeanie began to find it quite pleasurable.

And Ajeet did not relent. He continued to twist. 

Jeanie discovered that once the initial pain had left her, that there was a feeling of pleasure that overwhelmed her. Her pussy became wet, her skin needed his touch, his teasing. She was succumbing to the man. She was surrendering to him.

Ajeet had moved his hands to her breasts and left her nipples alone for the time being.

He squished her tits together smearing oil all over them in the process. He wiggled them and separated them, slapping them back together which resulted in a clapping sound. His dark brown hands worked every inch of her chest. Doing everything he had always imagined doing if he ever laid his hands on such a fine pair of tits. 

Jeanie's breath was heavy. She was getting hot. If he continued to play with her tits, she knew she'd need to get fucked.

Abandoning her breasts, Ajeet began stroking his cock with his oily hands. He loved the look of her tits. Luscious and plump. He had masturbated about fucking them.

And so, he did. 

Ajeet grabbed each breast by the side and thrusted his hard cock between them. Jeanie gasped, the sudden movement once again startled her. But she wasn't surprised; every lover she'd ever been with fucked her tits regularly. Sure, she'd never been restrained like this, but she was used to guys wanting to fuck her enormous breasts.

Ajeet did so with gusto. He wedged his dick between her giant breast flesh and fucked her hard.

Penetrating her cleavage fully over and over. A nasty sound filled the room. The sound of his heavy, oily balls smacking her breasts. As he increased his pace, his breathing became heavy and the oily, slippery, "slish" of his fucking her breasts became louder than the smack of his balls. 

Not a word was spoken, but it became clear that Jeanie's fear and anxiety had been replaced by lustful passion.

Ajeet stepped closer to her and adjusted his grip. He roughly tugged on her nipples now, holding her tits by only her stiff, oily nipples, and thrusting into them fully.

Jeanie sat there, taking his cock over and over again in her cleavage. She looked down, watching Ajeet's foreskin pull back each time he thrust through her tit flesh. His head was much lighter than the rest of his brown cock. It beat up at her as he pounded her chest.

He felt his ejaculate boil in his balls. Ajeet had masturbated fondly to Jeanie's tits, imagining himself splattering her with load after load of cum. But he knew he wanted to fuck her, too.

He decided it would be best to cum on her tits first, then give her a thorough fucking. As he made the decision, his balls tensed. He was ready to give it to her. He had chosen wisely.

Ajeet was practically sitting in Jeanie's lap. His fingers pulled at her elongated nipples and he slowed his thrusting. Jeanie was still watching his thick cock head as it emerged from her deep cleavage each time. Ajeet's pace slowed. His cock head peeked out and paused, swelling and darkening in color.

Jeanie wondered why he'd paused and looked from his dick head to Ajeet's face. It was blotchy red. She felt him tug her nipples forcefully and then he sighed, closing his eyes. Suddenly, Jeanie felt hot spurts against her chin and neck.

Ajeet flooded her cleavage, neck, and clavicle with hot cum. He spurted a thick pool of pale sperm and even shot a few wads over her shoulder onto the platform behind her. Before he finished, Ajeet released her nipples and stepped back. He aimed his cock and made sure to stream a few pale lines of cum across each of her wide breasts and nipples.

He finished spraying her and slapped his cock on her oily, cum-coated breasts. Jeanie looked down. Her tits looked like snow-covered mountains. She watched her chest heave as she recovered.

[hirarandi]

Without a word, Ajeet moved behind her and began unwrapping her wrists. She remained still as he finished. With his gentle, but direct guidance, he moved her out of the chair and positioned her on her hands and knees on the platform.

She felt his hands on her skin. He ran them all over her, first over her calves, thighs, and butt, then up along her smooth back and shoulders. He seemed enthralled, like he was participating in a worship ceremony of some kind. She felt revered. She felt idolized. She felt incredibly turned on. There was hope in the pit of her stomach that he wasn't done with her.

And as he moved around in front of her, she saw his cock was still jutting out, stiff as ever. She could tell he wanted more. He had a strange way of staying silent, but somehow communicating his desires to her.

Ajeet stepped up and guided his cock into her face. Jeanie opened her mouth and took the savory Indian penis into it. At first, she tasted his cum, still dripping slightly from his tip. Then she tasted the spiced oil, which made her tongue tingle and salivate even more. Her wet mouth allowed for deep penetration into her throat. They worked as one to stuff her mouth full of cock. She made sure to breathe through her nose as she swallowed and grunted the ample tool to her limit. 

Satisfied that he'd probed the depth of her throat, Ajeet grabbed her hair and began fucking her mouth deeply. She gaped her mouth and he thrust deep. Jeanie lurched, gagging slightly. As he plumbed in and out, she salivated generously. He drew out her drool. It oozed from between his shaft and her lips. It dribbled down her chin. It stretched into a drip, then flowed into a pool collecting on the platform. 

He backed out of her mouth about half way and increased the speed of his thrusts. 

The "smacking" sound of the sloppy mouth-fucking was all that could be heard in the small alteration shop. 

Jeanie felt as though she was having an out-of-body experience. She needed relief. She moved her hand back between her legs. She felt her thin, soaked thong. Her fingers moved past her panties and found her soft pussy lips. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, then slipped her fingers over the stiff bud of her clit. 

The sudden orgasm wracked her body. She shook briefly, trying to stay on her hands and knees, but the pleasure made her arms weak and caused her upper body to collapse. Ajeet's cock "popped" out of her mouth and she rested her face on the dirty carpet of the tailor's platform. Her cheek fell in the warm pool of her saliva. She came hard, feeling her semen-coated tits mash against the tops of her thighs. The climactic pleasure overwhelmed her entire body. She panted through her orgasm in the face-down, ass-up position on the brightly lit platform. She was out of breath from the intensity of the experience.

Ajeet took the opportunity to position himself behind Jeanie and shimmied her panties down and off of her body. Her body felt like putty and she let the eager man strip her, then position her legs slightly further apart.

In his usual wordless manner and before she could recover, Jeanie's pussy spasmed as Ajeet forcefully penetrated her. He slotted inside and drove in deep, to his balls, in one quick motion. Her cunt throbbed and her head swam. She began to come again. Jeanie tried to lift herself up, but the pleasure took over. She grunted and grabbed her own ankles, climaxing uncontrollably. 

As she came, she felt Ajeet roughly pumping into her. She focused her blurry eyes, seeing herself getting fucked in the mirror, her face on the dingy carpeted platform. The idea that she could be taken in such a way, in a public space, with the doors of the business open to any passerby, made her tremble with excitement.

Ajeet was not gentle with the white woman. He pounded her from behind in berserker fashion. Slamming her hard and deep. Jeanie was the ideal woman in Ajeet's eyes, and he had never come as close as even touching a woman of this physical caliber in his entire forty years. He held nothing back, fucking her wildly and watching the waves of her pale ass ripple as his hips hammered into her. He could see the sides of her huge tits shake with each thrust. He was reminded of the child's pose in yoga, watching the submissive woman grab her own ankles. 

The loud slapping noise-the sound Ajeet's body was making against Jeanie's-echoed loudly throughout not only the large room they were in, but down the hallway and could be heard clearly from the waiting area of the shop.

As Jeanie took Ajeet's powerful thrusts, she felt a sudden shift in the air of the room. There was a distinct WHOOSH that Jeanie found familiar, but she wasn't sure why. As she lay there bouncing from each eager drive of Ajeet's hips, it occurred to her.

At the same time came the gravelly voice, "Ajeet! Package!" the man called out.

Suddenly, Ajeet stopped, holding his cock deep inside her. Jeanie's heart filled with terror. She heard the shuffle of feet on the carpet. She pushed herself up and looked back at Ajeet as best she could, her eyes wide with concern.

Ajeet smiled and gave her a tentative thrust. "Ok, just leave it on the counter. I'm with a cuuuustomerrrrr," Ajeet spoke/sang pleasantly in his friendly accent. He pulled back and plunged his cock back in, moving slowly.

"See ya tomorrow," the gravelly voice called out, followed by a soft thud.

Ajeet gathered Jeanie's arms and folded them behind her back. He tightened his grip on her forearms and pulled her back against him as he resumed fucking her with gusto.

The scented oil permeated the scene and gave a heady, exotic feel to Jeanie's first experience with this talented Indian man. The lubricant was a blessing to Jeanie as Ajeet's penis was on the thick side. She relished the scent; it somehow made the experience feel more erotic.

Ajeet could have easily come again as he took the voluptuous woman from behind, but his desire to sexually dominate and explore her body gave him the necessary motivation to hold off. He made sure to fuck her through another elongated orgasm, delaying his own, but he knew it would be worth it. After she came on his cock a second time, her third overall, he slapped her ass and removed his cock. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Jeanie gasped as Ajeet pulled his hot cock out of her body. He took her hand and helped to raise her up to her feet. She was a bit unsteady, but soon found her balance. He lay himself down across the platform and looked up at her expectantly. He wanted her to mount him.

Jeanie knelt over him, face to face. This was the closest they'd been yet and as intimate as they'd been already, this felt the most personal. She easily slid down upon the skinny, well-endowed man to straddle his hard cock.

She put her hand on his chest and lifted her hips. His stiff cock slipped into position. His wrinkled foreskin swiped against her slick pussy lips. Ajeet placed his hands on her hips. She took that as his command and she lowered her cunt around his cock. He sunk in to the hilt. 

It took her only moments to adjust herself, pushing herself forward onto his shaft so that her clit rubbed into the base as she rocked back-and-forth.

Ajeet lifted his head up slightly to meet her hanging breasts that were swaying in his face. He took his hands to each side and slapped the flesh against his cheeks. He suffocated himself between them as he sandwiched his face in her bosom. He separated each one and sucked steadily on her nipples until she cried for mercy, then sucked more into his mouth. 

Jeanie had never had so much attention paid to her breasts. The stimulation was causing her to become overly sensitive. Jeanie never came in this position on top. Now, the fervor of Ajeet's attention on her breasts with his hands and mouth, coupled with his thick, driving cock proved her previous bias wrong. As she rode him, her orgasms began to come. Her first was a black-out orgasm; white spots flashing against her eyelids, dizzying, loss of control, forgetting where she was...one of those.

Her next was a warm, smooth orgasm that built up within her and rolled out...very pleasant. The kind of orgasm you want when you are on vacation and feeling lazy.

The third was as a direct result of Ajeet's efforts. With his mouth firmly attached to her left nipple, he had grabbed her hips. As he thrust up into her, he was rubbing her clitoris against the base of his dick. His hammering cock head pounded directly on her g-spot. This was an unexpected orgasm, like a slap in the face. She laughed and got the shivers after this one. Her body shook and she felt a fresh warmth in her core. It was real good.

As Jeanie regained her composure from the orgasms, she felt Ajeet slowly relax below her. Her pussy felt gooey and hot. It was then that she realized that Ajeet had cum deep inside her and was resting beneath her, smiling. She bent over and kissed him. This was actually their first kiss. She gently kissed that sweet, but oh so twisted, Indian man.

He lay there, more receiving the kisses that giving them. It was clear he was spent. Jeanie pressed her full, wet lips against his thinner ones and savored the faint hint of mint on his breath.

She pushed herself up, still feeling his gooey cum and slick cock inside her. He observed her with eyes half-lidded, satisfied. She used her arms to press her oily, cum-smeared tits together for him, turning her shoulders slightly from side to side so her breasts would wobble for him.

Ajeet smiled and watched them sway. They breathed there together for a moment, basking in their shared depravity.

Seemingly all at once, the thoughts of the rest of Jeanie's life flooded her mind. She knew it was time to go. With a sigh, she rose up off of her tailor and said good-bye.

Jeanie cleaned up in the humble restroom. It was a mess and clearly hadn't been cleaned in god knows how long. Ajeet was still breathing gently, laying naked on the platform. Jeanie thought he looked like he was going to take a nap. She happily gathered her dress and left.

As it turns out, the wedding was a success. Cynthia was married, and happy. Everyone commented about how beautiful and relaxed Jeanie looked in her custom-tailored dress. Jeanie thanked them and enjoyed herself, dancing with her young nieces and nephews and having a blast. She managed to avoid any unwanted attention from lustful men, although she recognized the glances.

A week later, Cynthia returned from her honeymoon and stopped by one afternoon to thank her sister, giving her a bottle of rum she brought back for her from her trip to Jamaica. Jeanie had a bundle of clothes under her arm.

"Hey, girl! Where you off to?" Cynthia opened the car door for her.

"Just getting some dresses fitted at the tailor's. See you for dinner!"

Cynthia was left standing at the side of the car as it backed down the driveway.

"How long does it take to get a dress fitted, anyway?"

End

[Kalyan143]

create nude tailors shop

[koolme98]

so hot and so wonderful erotica... thanks for sharing

[hornyfromchennai]

Really hot story