09-03-2019, 11:58 AM
Sunita Has Him, Then Me
It was a bad idea – I knew from the word go. But there was no other way to be near Sunita. When she asked me to stay over that weekend, I was torn between the idea of being near her and the discomfort of being at home on a Saturday night – the night Karan looks for her. Hell, I also know that I get aroused as mad being near Sunita and how would I manage to stay within bounds? I had stayed at her place once when Karan was traveling and was extremely familiar with the layout of the house – would Karan find that strange?
There were other friends that dropped in that Saturday night for an evening together and there was music, drinks and all the usual bonhomie that goes with a night of friends together. I didn't know any of them – except my Sunita and Karan – her Karan. I helped around the house with drinks and snacks and stuff, and on more than one occasion we passed so close to each other I could smell her perfume. More than once she looked me in the eye and her face was flushed red.
As the evening came to a close most of the people left, and I lingered on, hoping Karan would go to bed before Sunita and me. It began to get awkward as Karan clearly had plans for himself with Sunita – moving close to her, smooching her, and caressing her as she went past when he thought no one was looking. But I was looking – I spent the entire evening looking at her from different angles: laughing, smiling, joking, flirting, serving: she looked as beautiful as she ever did.
And I saw Karan building up towards her and knew that my retiring to my room was inevitable. I went and lay down not quite able to sleep. Soon I heard some noises, of Sunita and Karan. I opened the door slightly. Both of them were downstairs in the kitchen.
"Hey, let go of me!" Sunita squealed. "I am not done with the kitchen."
"Naaaaaaaaaw," he drawled and pressed himself against her back pinning her to the counter in the kitchen. She could feel his surging, if small, cock pressing into her.
"Karan," she hissed, "What are you doing?" I saw his hands disappear to the front of her. A loud moan from her, "Mmmmmmmmmm!" Obviously he was kneading her tits.
She pushed him away, her face red. She knew I was there upstairs; and we had talked of this night. We had thought he would be too drunk and sleep off; or that she would manage that. But she never held any assurances to me that she would come to me or my room after that. She was clear. That would hardly be the right thing for a married demure woman, who cared for her husband to do. The only thing she sought to tell me is that I would not have to live with the thought that she was being fucked by him, or fucking him, when I was there in that house.
I watched as she went to the fridge to put away some dishes. He followed her and caught her there too. She turned around and he rubbed himself against her. She pushed him away and they stumbled and that brought Sunita near the dining table. He pushed her back and her ass was propped on that dining table. He kissed her neck and her chin.
"Oohhh, Ssssuuuu... Karan!" she murmured. His lips trailed down her throat and nuzzled her breasts. Her hands went to his head and she tried to pull him up – so he shouldn't go down on her. Not where only her Shyam was allowed to take her.
"Karan, not here! The maids, the kids, not here....!" She whispered as she pushed him away. Her sentence was punctuated with groans and grunts as she felt his lips drive her wild. She ran to the stairs and he ran behind her. She was four steps ahead so her ass was at his face level. He reached out and bit at her ass.
"Aaaaaaaah...Karan!" she shuddered. Her knees became weak. She sank to the stairs and he was on top of her.... Grinding himself into her. Her hands went around his shoulders holding him..... and he rammed hard.
"KARAN!" Sunita hissed. "What are you doing?"
The thrusting rammed his cock against her pussy through clothes and all. She got up and stumbled to the top of the stairs. He grabbed her by the wrists and kissed his way up her hand. To her shoulder. Down her chest. And I saw his lips nip at the tip of her breast. I was burning with jealousy and with arousal.
Karan was too aroused to go as far as their own bedroom and he pushed her to the small ante room next to my guestroom. He ripped open her shirt top, a loud rip shearing the stillness of the night air. His hands opened the button of her trousers and he peeled it down.
It was a bad idea – I knew from the word go. But there was no other way to be near Sunita. When she asked me to stay over that weekend, I was torn between the idea of being near her and the discomfort of being at home on a Saturday night – the night Karan looks for her. Hell, I also know that I get aroused as mad being near Sunita and how would I manage to stay within bounds? I had stayed at her place once when Karan was traveling and was extremely familiar with the layout of the house – would Karan find that strange?
There were other friends that dropped in that Saturday night for an evening together and there was music, drinks and all the usual bonhomie that goes with a night of friends together. I didn't know any of them – except my Sunita and Karan – her Karan. I helped around the house with drinks and snacks and stuff, and on more than one occasion we passed so close to each other I could smell her perfume. More than once she looked me in the eye and her face was flushed red.
As the evening came to a close most of the people left, and I lingered on, hoping Karan would go to bed before Sunita and me. It began to get awkward as Karan clearly had plans for himself with Sunita – moving close to her, smooching her, and caressing her as she went past when he thought no one was looking. But I was looking – I spent the entire evening looking at her from different angles: laughing, smiling, joking, flirting, serving: she looked as beautiful as she ever did.
And I saw Karan building up towards her and knew that my retiring to my room was inevitable. I went and lay down not quite able to sleep. Soon I heard some noises, of Sunita and Karan. I opened the door slightly. Both of them were downstairs in the kitchen.
"Hey, let go of me!" Sunita squealed. "I am not done with the kitchen."
"Naaaaaaaaaw," he drawled and pressed himself against her back pinning her to the counter in the kitchen. She could feel his surging, if small, cock pressing into her.
"Karan," she hissed, "What are you doing?" I saw his hands disappear to the front of her. A loud moan from her, "Mmmmmmmmmm!" Obviously he was kneading her tits.
She pushed him away, her face red. She knew I was there upstairs; and we had talked of this night. We had thought he would be too drunk and sleep off; or that she would manage that. But she never held any assurances to me that she would come to me or my room after that. She was clear. That would hardly be the right thing for a married demure woman, who cared for her husband to do. The only thing she sought to tell me is that I would not have to live with the thought that she was being fucked by him, or fucking him, when I was there in that house.
I watched as she went to the fridge to put away some dishes. He followed her and caught her there too. She turned around and he rubbed himself against her. She pushed him away and they stumbled and that brought Sunita near the dining table. He pushed her back and her ass was propped on that dining table. He kissed her neck and her chin.
"Oohhh, Ssssuuuu... Karan!" she murmured. His lips trailed down her throat and nuzzled her breasts. Her hands went to his head and she tried to pull him up – so he shouldn't go down on her. Not where only her Shyam was allowed to take her.
"Karan, not here! The maids, the kids, not here....!" She whispered as she pushed him away. Her sentence was punctuated with groans and grunts as she felt his lips drive her wild. She ran to the stairs and he ran behind her. She was four steps ahead so her ass was at his face level. He reached out and bit at her ass.
"Aaaaaaaah...Karan!" she shuddered. Her knees became weak. She sank to the stairs and he was on top of her.... Grinding himself into her. Her hands went around his shoulders holding him..... and he rammed hard.
"KARAN!" Sunita hissed. "What are you doing?"
The thrusting rammed his cock against her pussy through clothes and all. She got up and stumbled to the top of the stairs. He grabbed her by the wrists and kissed his way up her hand. To her shoulder. Down her chest. And I saw his lips nip at the tip of her breast. I was burning with jealousy and with arousal.
Karan was too aroused to go as far as their own bedroom and he pushed her to the small ante room next to my guestroom. He ripped open her shirt top, a loud rip shearing the stillness of the night air. His hands opened the button of her trousers and he peeled it down.
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