18-05-2025, 03:09 PM
(This post was last modified: 18-05-2025, 11:14 PM by yazhiniram. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
I pulled my hand away from his cock.
It made a soft wet sound—skin peeling from skin.
My fingers were sticky. I could feel his precum sliding between two of them.
I didn’t wipe. Didn’t clean.
Let it stay.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t even breathe loud.
Just stood still, body open, chest rising slow.
His cock stayed full. Not jumping. Just… thick.
Like it was waiting for permission to fall.
-----------------------------------------------
I looked down once more.
The head had shine—juice or spit or both.
It stood out from the rest of his brown skin.
My hand still tingled where I’d held him.
I liked that feeling. Power without noise.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t move yet.
Let him feel the silence.
Let him feel his body twitch without knowing what I’d do next.
Then I said it: “Lie down.”
That’s all.
-----------------------------------------------
He blinked once.
His shoulders pulled slightly back.
Then he bent—quietly, not rushed.
His knees folded.
Water around his ankles shifted.
-----------------------------------------------
He stepped back slightly to balance.
One heel slipped a little, but he caught himself.
Then he turned—half sideways—
And lowered himself slow.
I didn’t help. I didn’t blink.
-----------------------------------------------
His ass touched tile first.
Then he reached behind—his right palm touched the floor.
Used it for balance,
Then he lowered his spine down.
Carefully. Silently.
-----------------------------------------------
Elbow rested.
Then back.
Then shoulders.
Each part made that soft wet slap on the tile.
His cock never touched the ground.
-----------------------------------------------
It stayed up.
Even as his body flattened.
It curved slightly now—
Not pointing straight, but still bold.
Still alive.
-----------------------------------------------
Now he was fully down.
Arms at his side.
Feet apart.
Chest moving just a bit faster than before.
Eyes looking at me.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t step forward right away.
I let his body settle.
Let him stay open like that.
Let him feel my silence.
Then I moved.
-----------------------------------------------
Right foot first—placed beside his right thigh.
Water touched my skin.
I stepped carefully, controlling my weight.
Then left foot.
Now I was standing over him.
-----------------------------------------------
One leg on each side.
His body between.
My saree clung around my calves.
The petticoat was wet near the bottom.
It stuck to my skin.
-----------------------------------------------
I looked down.
His cock was below me, not touching,
Just lying there, heavy and proud.
Thicker near the base.
The head still wet.
-----------------------------------------------
I bent slightly forward.
Let my chin pull in.
Let spit build in my mouth.
Didn’t rush.
Didn’t spit yet.
-----------------------------------------------
My tongue moved slow.
Pushed the spit out gently.
Let gravity catch it.
It dropped.
Thick. Full.
-----------------------------------------------
It hit his cockhead.
No splash.
It just landed.
Sat there.
Then started sliding down the side.
-----------------------------------------------
I watched it move.
Like syrup on a smooth pole.
The skin under it twitched.
He didn’t move.
But I saw it.
-----------------------------------------------
That twitch.
That little jerk.
That was enough for me.
I stepped forward.
Planted right foot beside his rib.
-----------------------------------------------
Then the other.
Now I was standing closer.
Above his chest.
My saree touched his skin slightly.
He didn’t flinch.
-----------------------------------------------
I bent at the knees.
Fingers reached for the saree hem.
Cloth stuck near my shin.
I peeled it up gently.
Pulled it slowly.
-----------------------------------------------
Red cotton folded softly in my fingers.
The wet edge rubbed my thigh as it came up.
My petticoat stuck tighter from below.
Both lifted together.
I used both hands.
-----------------------------------------------
Folded saree once, then twice.
Let it rest above my knees.
Didn’t go higher.
I wasn’t here to tease.
Just to make space.
-----------------------------------------------
His eyes were still open.
I saw them looking up—
Not at my face.
At my legs.
At my fingers.
-----------------------------------------------
I stared right into him.
“Close your eyes,” I said.
He didn’t react.
Still stared.
“Now,” I added.
-----------------------------------------------
His eyes shut.
Not gentle.
Tight.
As if scared.
I didn’t smile.
-----------------------------------------------
I reached behind.
Right hand under the saree fold.
Found the waistband of my panty.
Elastic was warm.
Wet.
-----------------------------------------------
Fingers slipped under it.
I pulled slow.
It didn’t come freely.
The centre was stuck.
My lips were soaked.
-----------------------------------------------
Juice had dried slightly, glued it there.
I had to bend more.
Right foot planted harder.
My left knee bent more.
Balance shifted.
-----------------------------------------------
I pressed my left hand against my own thigh.
Used it for support.
Then pulled the panty again.
It dragged slowly down.
Tugged my lips on the way.
-----------------------------------------------
I felt it peel.
One layer at a time.
From my clit to the bottom curve.
Then to the thigh crease.
Then it was free.
-----------------------------------------------
Now it sat at my knees.
I bent more.
Felt my blouse shift on my chest.
Saree hung from my arm.
I bent till I reached my feet.
-----------------------------------------------
Lifted right foot slightly.
Pulled the cloth off my ankle.
Then lifted left.
Same.
Now it was in my hand.
-----------------------------------------------
Panty was warm.
Heavy.
Wetness had soaked the centre part fully.
It stuck to itself.
My smell was strong.
-----------------------------------------------
He was still lying.
Eyes closed.
Breathing steady.
His cock twitched once again.
My foot shifted back.
-----------------------------------------------
I raised my arm.
Didn’t aim too carefully.
Just pointed toward his face.
Then threw.
Panty flew out.
-----------------------------------------------
It dropped on him.
Soft. Wet.
Landed across his eyes.
Didn’t bounce.
Didn’t move.
-----------------------------------------------
The middle patch—the wettest part—
Landed right on his nose.
Covered both eyes and part of cheek.
Like a dirty cloth mask.
One made of me.
-----------------------------------------------
He stayed still.
Didn’t twitch.
Didn’t remove.
I didn’t speak.
I just stood over him.
-----------------------------------------------
His cock lying below me.
My scent covering his face.
My saree clinging to my thighs.
My cunt bare.
And ready.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t touch the cloth.
Didn’t lift a finger to adjust it.
My panty stayed on his face,
Covering both eyes,
Pressed softly over his nose.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t wipe it.
Didn’t even flinch.
Just lay there under me.
Breathing slow.
And maybe — maybe licking.
-----------------------------------------------
That thought made my stomach twist.
Not shame.
Just… heat.
His tongue under my cloth.
On the same spot my cunt soaked.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t look at his face.
Didn’t want to know what part he tasted.
I stepped back, one leg at a time.
Careful not to slip.
Water made soft sounds around my ankles.
-----------------------------------------------
Right foot first — behind his thigh.
Left followed — to the other side.
Now I stood over him again,
Back in place,
Legs apart, feet beside his hips.
-----------------------------------------------
I held my saree bunched.
Fingers curled in the thick red folds.
Petticoat pulled high, tight around waist.
My cunt was bare.
My blouse stuck to my ribs.
-----------------------------------------------
I breathed in once.
But it didn’t help.
Breath came out heavier.
It wasn’t nerves.
It was body hunger.
-----------------------------------------------
My thighs were slick.
Inside part, warm from friction.
Juice had started again — fresh.
I could feel it building,
Felt it trace down toward the crease.
-----------------------------------------------
My legs trembled just a little.
Not from weakness.
From how hard I was trying to stay up.
Mind whispered: don’t do this.
But my hips had other plans.
-----------------------------------------------
I stared down.
His cock was still standing.
Still bold.
Still that thick shade of brown that made me dizzy.
Shaft swollen, head proud, skin pulled.
-----------------------------------------------
I clenched my inner thighs.
Tried to stop the ache.
But the pressure only grew sharper.
Like something was pulling from inside.
Low and deep.
-----------------------------------------------
He’s a bastard, my mind said.
Cheap, dirty bastard.
Not worthy.
You’re not this woman.
But my cunt was already wet.
-----------------------------------------------
My knees bent slightly.
Not planned.
My body moved without order.
My weight dropped,
Slow, like secret.
-----------------------------------------------
Blouse rubbed against my ribs as I bent.
Bra tightened over my chest.
I ignored it all.
Only one place mattered.
Only one spot throbbed.
-----------------------------------------------
His cock didn’t twitch.
Didn’t flinch.
It just stayed up.
Silent. Waiting.
As if it knew it had already won.
-----------------------------------------------
I hated that.
Hated how calm it looked.
How still he was.
While I was the one folding.
One inch at a time.
-----------------------------------------------
My thighs burned now.
Held halfway down.
Balance shifted toward balls of my feet.
My knees bent more.
That ache hit my hip bones.
-----------------------------------------------
I let go of the saree for a second.
Let it rest on my petticoat.
Used both hands on my thighs.
Pressed down slightly.
Tried to hold control.
-----------------------------------------------
But my hips had their own rhythm.
They pushed.
Rolled slightly forward.
My pelvis tilted —
Pulling my cunt lower.
-----------------------------------------------
Mind screamed again:
Stop now. Get up. Run. You’re married. He’s filth. You’re filth.
Body didn’t hear a word.
My cunt opened.
Just a little. But enough.
-----------------------------------------------
Sweat rolled down the back of my thigh.
Mixed with tank water around my knee.
My petticoat bunched between my legs.
Felt heavy.
But I didn’t push it down.
-----------------------------------------------
That last inch now.
His cockhead was just below me.
Not touching.
But so close.
I could feel its warmth in the air.
-----------------------------------------------
My pussy was swollen.
Open.
Juice clung to the folds.
One droplet slid down.
I felt it escape.
-----------------------------------------------
I froze.
Didn’t move.
Watched that clear line fall from me.
Fall downward,
And land right on his shaft.
-----------------------------------------------
A tiny splash.
Not loud.
But I felt it.
He didn’t move.
Still covered. Still blind.
-----------------------------------------------
I wanted to stop.
I did.
But my body was already going lower.
Inch.
By inch.
-----------------------------------------------
My cunt lips parted more.
I could feel air rushing between them.
Cool and cruel.
They pulsed.
As if calling him in.
-----------------------------------------------
My breath caught in my throat.
My fingers clutched at my thigh.
I bent slightly forward.
Couldn’t help it.
Needed support.
-----------------------------------------------
And that’s when it happened.
That first real contact.
A soft bump.
Just a kiss.
His cockhead brushed my pussy.
-----------------------------------------------
I feel his tip on my pussy.
-----------------------------------------------
It made a soft wet sound—skin peeling from skin.
My fingers were sticky. I could feel his precum sliding between two of them.
I didn’t wipe. Didn’t clean.
Let it stay.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t even breathe loud.
Just stood still, body open, chest rising slow.
His cock stayed full. Not jumping. Just… thick.
Like it was waiting for permission to fall.
-----------------------------------------------
I looked down once more.
The head had shine—juice or spit or both.
It stood out from the rest of his brown skin.
My hand still tingled where I’d held him.
I liked that feeling. Power without noise.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t move yet.
Let him feel the silence.
Let him feel his body twitch without knowing what I’d do next.
Then I said it: “Lie down.”
That’s all.
-----------------------------------------------
He blinked once.
His shoulders pulled slightly back.
Then he bent—quietly, not rushed.
His knees folded.
Water around his ankles shifted.
-----------------------------------------------
He stepped back slightly to balance.
One heel slipped a little, but he caught himself.
Then he turned—half sideways—
And lowered himself slow.
I didn’t help. I didn’t blink.
-----------------------------------------------
His ass touched tile first.
Then he reached behind—his right palm touched the floor.
Used it for balance,
Then he lowered his spine down.
Carefully. Silently.
-----------------------------------------------
Elbow rested.
Then back.
Then shoulders.
Each part made that soft wet slap on the tile.
His cock never touched the ground.
-----------------------------------------------
It stayed up.
Even as his body flattened.
It curved slightly now—
Not pointing straight, but still bold.
Still alive.
-----------------------------------------------
Now he was fully down.
Arms at his side.
Feet apart.
Chest moving just a bit faster than before.
Eyes looking at me.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t step forward right away.
I let his body settle.
Let him stay open like that.
Let him feel my silence.
Then I moved.
-----------------------------------------------
Right foot first—placed beside his right thigh.
Water touched my skin.
I stepped carefully, controlling my weight.
Then left foot.
Now I was standing over him.
-----------------------------------------------
One leg on each side.
His body between.
My saree clung around my calves.
The petticoat was wet near the bottom.
It stuck to my skin.
-----------------------------------------------
I looked down.
His cock was below me, not touching,
Just lying there, heavy and proud.
Thicker near the base.
The head still wet.
-----------------------------------------------
I bent slightly forward.
Let my chin pull in.
Let spit build in my mouth.
Didn’t rush.
Didn’t spit yet.
-----------------------------------------------
My tongue moved slow.
Pushed the spit out gently.
Let gravity catch it.
It dropped.
Thick. Full.
-----------------------------------------------
It hit his cockhead.
No splash.
It just landed.
Sat there.
Then started sliding down the side.
-----------------------------------------------
I watched it move.
Like syrup on a smooth pole.
The skin under it twitched.
He didn’t move.
But I saw it.
-----------------------------------------------
That twitch.
That little jerk.
That was enough for me.
I stepped forward.
Planted right foot beside his rib.
-----------------------------------------------
Then the other.
Now I was standing closer.
Above his chest.
My saree touched his skin slightly.
He didn’t flinch.
-----------------------------------------------
I bent at the knees.
Fingers reached for the saree hem.
Cloth stuck near my shin.
I peeled it up gently.
Pulled it slowly.
-----------------------------------------------
Red cotton folded softly in my fingers.
The wet edge rubbed my thigh as it came up.
My petticoat stuck tighter from below.
Both lifted together.
I used both hands.
-----------------------------------------------
Folded saree once, then twice.
Let it rest above my knees.
Didn’t go higher.
I wasn’t here to tease.
Just to make space.
-----------------------------------------------
His eyes were still open.
I saw them looking up—
Not at my face.
At my legs.
At my fingers.
-----------------------------------------------
I stared right into him.
“Close your eyes,” I said.
He didn’t react.
Still stared.
“Now,” I added.
-----------------------------------------------
His eyes shut.
Not gentle.
Tight.
As if scared.
I didn’t smile.
-----------------------------------------------
I reached behind.
Right hand under the saree fold.
Found the waistband of my panty.
Elastic was warm.
Wet.
-----------------------------------------------
Fingers slipped under it.
I pulled slow.
It didn’t come freely.
The centre was stuck.
My lips were soaked.
-----------------------------------------------
Juice had dried slightly, glued it there.
I had to bend more.
Right foot planted harder.
My left knee bent more.
Balance shifted.
-----------------------------------------------
I pressed my left hand against my own thigh.
Used it for support.
Then pulled the panty again.
It dragged slowly down.
Tugged my lips on the way.
-----------------------------------------------
I felt it peel.
One layer at a time.
From my clit to the bottom curve.
Then to the thigh crease.
Then it was free.
-----------------------------------------------
Now it sat at my knees.
I bent more.
Felt my blouse shift on my chest.
Saree hung from my arm.
I bent till I reached my feet.
-----------------------------------------------
Lifted right foot slightly.
Pulled the cloth off my ankle.
Then lifted left.
Same.
Now it was in my hand.
-----------------------------------------------
Panty was warm.
Heavy.
Wetness had soaked the centre part fully.
It stuck to itself.
My smell was strong.
-----------------------------------------------
He was still lying.
Eyes closed.
Breathing steady.
His cock twitched once again.
My foot shifted back.
-----------------------------------------------
I raised my arm.
Didn’t aim too carefully.
Just pointed toward his face.
Then threw.
Panty flew out.
-----------------------------------------------
It dropped on him.
Soft. Wet.
Landed across his eyes.
Didn’t bounce.
Didn’t move.
-----------------------------------------------
The middle patch—the wettest part—
Landed right on his nose.
Covered both eyes and part of cheek.
Like a dirty cloth mask.
One made of me.
-----------------------------------------------
He stayed still.
Didn’t twitch.
Didn’t remove.
I didn’t speak.
I just stood over him.
-----------------------------------------------
His cock lying below me.
My scent covering his face.
My saree clinging to my thighs.
My cunt bare.
And ready.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t touch the cloth.
Didn’t lift a finger to adjust it.
My panty stayed on his face,
Covering both eyes,
Pressed softly over his nose.
-----------------------------------------------
He didn’t wipe it.
Didn’t even flinch.
Just lay there under me.
Breathing slow.
And maybe — maybe licking.
-----------------------------------------------
That thought made my stomach twist.
Not shame.
Just… heat.
His tongue under my cloth.
On the same spot my cunt soaked.
-----------------------------------------------
I didn’t look at his face.
Didn’t want to know what part he tasted.
I stepped back, one leg at a time.
Careful not to slip.
Water made soft sounds around my ankles.
-----------------------------------------------
Right foot first — behind his thigh.
Left followed — to the other side.
Now I stood over him again,
Back in place,
Legs apart, feet beside his hips.
-----------------------------------------------
I held my saree bunched.
Fingers curled in the thick red folds.
Petticoat pulled high, tight around waist.
My cunt was bare.
My blouse stuck to my ribs.
-----------------------------------------------
I breathed in once.
But it didn’t help.
Breath came out heavier.
It wasn’t nerves.
It was body hunger.
-----------------------------------------------
My thighs were slick.
Inside part, warm from friction.
Juice had started again — fresh.
I could feel it building,
Felt it trace down toward the crease.
-----------------------------------------------
My legs trembled just a little.
Not from weakness.
From how hard I was trying to stay up.
Mind whispered: don’t do this.
But my hips had other plans.
-----------------------------------------------
I stared down.
His cock was still standing.
Still bold.
Still that thick shade of brown that made me dizzy.
Shaft swollen, head proud, skin pulled.
-----------------------------------------------
I clenched my inner thighs.
Tried to stop the ache.
But the pressure only grew sharper.
Like something was pulling from inside.
Low and deep.
-----------------------------------------------
He’s a bastard, my mind said.
Cheap, dirty bastard.
Not worthy.
You’re not this woman.
But my cunt was already wet.
-----------------------------------------------
My knees bent slightly.
Not planned.
My body moved without order.
My weight dropped,
Slow, like secret.
-----------------------------------------------
Blouse rubbed against my ribs as I bent.
Bra tightened over my chest.
I ignored it all.
Only one place mattered.
Only one spot throbbed.
-----------------------------------------------
His cock didn’t twitch.
Didn’t flinch.
It just stayed up.
Silent. Waiting.
As if it knew it had already won.
-----------------------------------------------
I hated that.
Hated how calm it looked.
How still he was.
While I was the one folding.
One inch at a time.
-----------------------------------------------
My thighs burned now.
Held halfway down.
Balance shifted toward balls of my feet.
My knees bent more.
That ache hit my hip bones.
-----------------------------------------------
I let go of the saree for a second.
Let it rest on my petticoat.
Used both hands on my thighs.
Pressed down slightly.
Tried to hold control.
-----------------------------------------------
But my hips had their own rhythm.
They pushed.
Rolled slightly forward.
My pelvis tilted —
Pulling my cunt lower.
-----------------------------------------------
Mind screamed again:
Stop now. Get up. Run. You’re married. He’s filth. You’re filth.
Body didn’t hear a word.
My cunt opened.
Just a little. But enough.
-----------------------------------------------
Sweat rolled down the back of my thigh.
Mixed with tank water around my knee.
My petticoat bunched between my legs.
Felt heavy.
But I didn’t push it down.
-----------------------------------------------
That last inch now.
His cockhead was just below me.
Not touching.
But so close.
I could feel its warmth in the air.
-----------------------------------------------
My pussy was swollen.
Open.
Juice clung to the folds.
One droplet slid down.
I felt it escape.
-----------------------------------------------
I froze.
Didn’t move.
Watched that clear line fall from me.
Fall downward,
And land right on his shaft.
-----------------------------------------------
A tiny splash.
Not loud.
But I felt it.
He didn’t move.
Still covered. Still blind.
-----------------------------------------------
I wanted to stop.
I did.
But my body was already going lower.
Inch.
By inch.
-----------------------------------------------
My cunt lips parted more.
I could feel air rushing between them.
Cool and cruel.
They pulsed.
As if calling him in.
-----------------------------------------------
My breath caught in my throat.
My fingers clutched at my thigh.
I bent slightly forward.
Couldn’t help it.
Needed support.
-----------------------------------------------
And that’s when it happened.
That first real contact.
A soft bump.
Just a kiss.
His cockhead brushed my pussy.
-----------------------------------------------
I feel his tip on my pussy.
-----------------------------------------------
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