24-02-2019, 01:13 PM
In the final moments Sheila allowed the water to become a fat, heavy stream of water. Holding her lips apart wide between the fingers of one hand, she manipulated this heavy stream to land gently but incessantly on her throbbing clit. The water with its relentless beating, did what her fingers could not have done.
The dam burst and Sheila wailed as she shuddered, struggling to prevent herself from falling. The plaintive cry carried to Sham faintly -- but that was only because he was watching and knew. Otherwise it was lost in the din of the city. For Sheila, the din of the city was lost in the crescendo ringing in her ears.
She sank to the floor, squatting as the shuddering continued. The hose lost its focus and Sheila pinched her clit and lips unmindful of how rough she was being in her frenzy. Now she sat down, lay back and stretched, fingers insistently squeezing every iota of pleasure possible. She reached out to grab the tap and turned the hose off. The cold and damp of the floor was initially uncomfortable but her body quickly adjusted to it.
She slumped in a state of relaxation. Above her the wide sky was witness to her release and her unravelled self. She gazed at the clouds and the blue sky drowsily. She knew not when she actually slept but she did fall asleep right there.
She was woken by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. She stirred and thought it might have been about ten minutes that she had slept. She looked around her and noticed that the saree was pretty much ruined from her sliding to the floor wet. She felt good -- no, great. She turned around pressing her breasts to the ground. Pretending to be a tigress, she got on all fours and playfully prowled as if on a hunt. Then she stood up allowing the saree to unravel in a trail behind her.
The bell continued to ring with intervals but she could not think of anyone or anything that was sufficiently important for her to be rushed out of the wonderful state of body and mind in which she was. She undid the cord of her petticoat and it slid down but came to rest on her wide hip. She slipped it past and allowed it to fall on its own weight, feeling sensuous in doing that. Sheila turned on the shower, allowing it to soak her blouse completely before peeling it off completely.
She admired herself in the mirror on the wall across from the shower. Her wide hips and large breasts were like those of the typical dancer to be found in sculptures in the temples of the south. It was a very Indian definition of sensuous beauty. The flat stomach which she was so careful to maintain made for all the right curves.
She quickly dried herself and threw on a caftan -- with no undergarments. Sheila was expert at managing herself in any situation with discretion and with no compromise. The lack of undergarments would not be allowed to come across as bad form. "Especially now that my nipples are tamed," she thought to herself, as she hurried downstairs. Whoever this was, was persistent. She had taken her time and now did not want to make that person wait any further. She opened the door and immediately regretted not having worn any undergarments.
Her confidence that her nipples were tamed evaporated at the sight of sturdy young Sham. He had watched her complete her orgasm and lie down on the floor. He knew nothing about a woman's orgasm though he understood his own ejaculation from masturbating. In his mind was a confused mix of concern at that aunty lying supine of the floor and the maddening arousal between his legs.
When he descended from the roof top his mother found that the boy had long forgotten about the water check. As she chased him to ask he rushed into his room and abruptly shut the door. "These teenagers!" she thought to herself in frustration.
The nineteen-year old was in fact desperate to hide his massive erection from his mother. Rushing to his room he relived the images of Sheila's exhibition. And then he spurted incredible amounts of semen as he came quicker than ever before. He snoozed as Sheila had. When he awoke, he found his arousal undiminished and his desire to see that woman again. And again. And again.
He had a plan.
The dam burst and Sheila wailed as she shuddered, struggling to prevent herself from falling. The plaintive cry carried to Sham faintly -- but that was only because he was watching and knew. Otherwise it was lost in the din of the city. For Sheila, the din of the city was lost in the crescendo ringing in her ears.
She sank to the floor, squatting as the shuddering continued. The hose lost its focus and Sheila pinched her clit and lips unmindful of how rough she was being in her frenzy. Now she sat down, lay back and stretched, fingers insistently squeezing every iota of pleasure possible. She reached out to grab the tap and turned the hose off. The cold and damp of the floor was initially uncomfortable but her body quickly adjusted to it.
She slumped in a state of relaxation. Above her the wide sky was witness to her release and her unravelled self. She gazed at the clouds and the blue sky drowsily. She knew not when she actually slept but she did fall asleep right there.
She was woken by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. She stirred and thought it might have been about ten minutes that she had slept. She looked around her and noticed that the saree was pretty much ruined from her sliding to the floor wet. She felt good -- no, great. She turned around pressing her breasts to the ground. Pretending to be a tigress, she got on all fours and playfully prowled as if on a hunt. Then she stood up allowing the saree to unravel in a trail behind her.
The bell continued to ring with intervals but she could not think of anyone or anything that was sufficiently important for her to be rushed out of the wonderful state of body and mind in which she was. She undid the cord of her petticoat and it slid down but came to rest on her wide hip. She slipped it past and allowed it to fall on its own weight, feeling sensuous in doing that. Sheila turned on the shower, allowing it to soak her blouse completely before peeling it off completely.
She admired herself in the mirror on the wall across from the shower. Her wide hips and large breasts were like those of the typical dancer to be found in sculptures in the temples of the south. It was a very Indian definition of sensuous beauty. The flat stomach which she was so careful to maintain made for all the right curves.
She quickly dried herself and threw on a caftan -- with no undergarments. Sheila was expert at managing herself in any situation with discretion and with no compromise. The lack of undergarments would not be allowed to come across as bad form. "Especially now that my nipples are tamed," she thought to herself, as she hurried downstairs. Whoever this was, was persistent. She had taken her time and now did not want to make that person wait any further. She opened the door and immediately regretted not having worn any undergarments.
Her confidence that her nipples were tamed evaporated at the sight of sturdy young Sham. He had watched her complete her orgasm and lie down on the floor. He knew nothing about a woman's orgasm though he understood his own ejaculation from masturbating. In his mind was a confused mix of concern at that aunty lying supine of the floor and the maddening arousal between his legs.
When he descended from the roof top his mother found that the boy had long forgotten about the water check. As she chased him to ask he rushed into his room and abruptly shut the door. "These teenagers!" she thought to herself in frustration.
The nineteen-year old was in fact desperate to hide his massive erection from his mother. Rushing to his room he relived the images of Sheila's exhibition. And then he spurted incredible amounts of semen as he came quicker than ever before. He snoozed as Sheila had. When he awoke, he found his arousal undiminished and his desire to see that woman again. And again. And again.
He had a plan.
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