Adultery Worship: But Not The Planned One by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

He, mindful that he ought not to pull back too far, jabbed her in short hard bursts. The fucking was animal thrusting her forward and it was only the gripping hands on her breasts that prevented her from moving. Her knees were bruising but the hard fucking was building up to another orgasm in her. She did not care for her knees.


She thrashed on his cock impaled as she was, with yet another powerful coursing of pleasure. She sagged briefly but then quickly resumed her manipulations of his cock. She thrust back when he expected it least. He lurched out of control. She could tell she had bettered him as his grip of her breasts slackened.

He thrust in and she fucked back. He shuddered, feeling her conquer him. His cock welled up with cum. When he expected a fuck, she twisted his cock. When he waited for her thrust, she did nothing. It brought his cum to a boil. When in desperation he started to fuck she matched him thrust for thrust, doubling the impact of cock on cunt.

He cried out, "Mami!"

She called back to him in full command, "Yes dear?"

"Mami" he said helplessly as she twisted and turned on his cock squeezing his cum out. His saliva dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as his whole body jerked and he lost control of himself.

He exploded into her. Expertly, she reached behind and controlled the thrusting of his buttocks to make sure the movement was limited and he did not slip out.

He held himself close to her and spewed out. She carefully felt the spasms and felt the flow slow to an occasionally dribble.

At last, she felt him shrink for the fist time that afternoon. She slowly allowed him to come to the lips of her pussy. Without letting him slip out she sucked him back in, that last slide giving him at least as much pleasure as a full orgasm.

When he slipped out, he shuddered in release. She felt a warm glow of her own release. There was a puddle of their combined juices to mark the spot of their animal, illicit and dangerous lovemaking. For that is what it was. Yes, they had fucked. But there was tenderness. Animalness, fondness. Care. Devotion. Worshipfulness. Everything you would expect between a teacher and student in sexuality.

He slid to the floor, completely done. She, as all Indian housewives often have to do, moved on to her next chore.

There was only so much she could reconstruct herself. She coaxed her still-quivering breasts back into heir confines. There were marks of teeth, nails and fingers that she would have to conceal for a few days.

She wrapped her saree back on and thankfully noted that the worst of stains were on her petticoat within.

She pulled the crushed flowers from her hair and tossed them aside. They were of no use now and were more of a giveaway. Picking up the pooja basket she found some vermilion then which she reapplied as a large dot on her forehead.

A practiced eye would easily have categorized as a woman of pleasure leaving her boudoir after a sexual tryst. And that would not be entirely wrong.

The woman who had pleasured herself thus looked down at the supine form of the youth lying on the floor, his trousers barely covering him.

She pushed at him with her foot.

"Hey! Leave in the other direction," she instructed. "I am going this way."

"You never gave me your name," she admonished him. He still could not find his tongue.

Shobha mami emerged from the cool dark confines of the cul-de-sac back into the glare of daylight. She realized she needed to rush home for as she stood and walked the flow between her legs had become s steady stream.

She was bruised and aching but she felt alive and good. Having survived this dangerous enactment of this deepest fantasy of hers, she felt ready to engage her husband in a long orgy of sex.

She looked at her watch. It had been all of fifteen minutes. Something inside her was unleashed.