Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Swati awakes sometime in the night and looks at her phone. It is three in the morning. Pravin is fast asleep, his mouth slack, snoring slightly. The other side of the bed is empty.


She rises, her mouth dry. She needs a drink of water. Right now no liquor in the world would do, no soda, nothing other than cool water. She pads to the attached bathroom, and finds a glass by the sink. She fills up a glass and drinks deep, fills it again, and drinks half of that, and feels better. 

Swati pads back to the bedroom, stark naked, and stands at the foot of the bed looking at Pravin. Abhi has gone, presumably sleeping, or if he has the energy, fucking one of the other women. Pravin still snores, softly, like a kitten. He is on his back, naked except for the sheet that partially covers his upper body. He is slightly pudgy, but in modestly good shape for an Indian male in his mid-thirties. His cock is soft, curled like a kitten between his thighs.

After the ass fucking with Abhi and the simultaneous pussy licking by Pravin, they took a breather. Abhi produced a joint that they all shared, and then they fell to caressing each other softly. Pravin had already come in her mouth while she was getting her ass reamed out, and yet he rose to the occasion. 

Swati suspected there might have been some Viagra for the men in addition to the ecstasy in the Bailey, but she was past caring. In fact, she would have been disappointed if the men did not have erections. 

When Pravin was ready, she straddled him softly, and sank her warm and wet pussy onto his hardness, and he moaned deep in his throat in appreciation. Abhi stood up and nudged her cheek with his rampant member. She turned her cheek and opened her mouth, and took him in. 

The three-way coupling proceeded with moans and groans and when all three had reached their apogees, they subsided. Pravin was the pathetically grateful one, for she had promised him first crack at her pussy and she had delivered.

“It is like velvet,” he said. “So soft and still so tight.” Then he adds, “and wet. Oh, the feeling is so good, so sublime. And your tits, they’re so soft, yet firm, and the nipples, so springy and tasty…”

Swati smiled at the compliments. She plants a kiss on his lips in order to shut him up. It is a little embarrassing, these awkward compliments Pravin was showering on her. 

Abhi, on the other hand, smiled at her, a superior, smarmy smile, as though it was he who has done her a favor by letting her suck his cock and letting her swallow his cum. 

In the moonlight that is streaming in through the tall window, Swati thinks no one has hurt her at all, and it has all been soft and sensuous and yes, pleasurable. But there is not the edgy and raw feeling of lust beyond control, the feeling of abandon, the devil may care attitude, she feels with Prakash. She suddenly wishes he were here to take her masterfully. There is no master-slave relationship here. It is sex among equals. This is the #MeToo generation, afraid to cross lines and boundaries.

Then there is movement in the dark and a large shape comes at her. Large hands reach for her and grab her by the shoulders. Swati suppresses a scream at the suddenness of the movement. The man is large, powerful—she can feel it in the strength of his arms. There is something of the predator in him too, in the way he moves silently, powerfully.

White teeth glint in the moonlight as he smiles, and she recognizes Baldev, the Punjabi brother-in-law.

“I know you wanted me to pick you,” he whispers in her ear. His hands are stroking her flanks, and she moves into him as though pulled by a powerful magnet. 

“Nooo,” she whispers in mock protest. She knows as well as he that what he said is true. 

He grabs and draws her hand to his groin, and she gasps. She has known of course that he was well-endowed. His sister-in-law and girlfriend for the night, Aparna, had shown her, between giggles, the measure of his member by clutching her forearm midway between wrist and elbow, and Swati now realized what she said was true. She had seen him of course, earlier, when everyone was in a state of undress, but he’d been soft then. 

Not now though. She can feel his girth as he rubs up against her thigh. He feels hard, but also moist. She can tell he, or rather his cock, has been somewhere recently, probably Sudha’s cunt, the woman he purchased for the night. Swati feels proud and special that despite having a hot woman to fuck all night, he has come to find her. No doubt he has worn out the voluptuous Sudha, probably fucked her in all her holes, and she must be fast asleep now. 

Aparna has told her about Baldev’s tastes, so Swati isn’t surprised when after some initial fondling, he turns her around with some force and bends her down against the footboard of the bed. 

“You’re a whore, aren’t you?” His voice is a hoarse, low rasp as he manhandles her.

She grabs the solid wood with both her hands, looking down at the peacefully sleeping Pravin and feels Baldev's rough hands on her ass.
 
Baldev separates her cheeks with both hands and then pokes an experimental finger into each of her holes. 

“Wet both holes, I see!” He chuckles, delighted with his discovery. Her ass and cunt are both wet from the previous rounds of sex she has had with Abhi and then Pravin. 

Baldev sounds like he expected this. “I knew it! I knew it from the look you gave me. I know what you need. Baldev is the man to give it to you. Not the nimbu-paani Pravin types.” He scoffs at the sleeping man. 

Swati likes the roughness of his approach. It reminds her of Prakash when he had bent her over in the little balcony off the conference room and fucked her ass in front of an audience across the street. 

Baldev’s hands come around and grab her breasts tight. He squeezes as hard as he can, and she tries to muffle her scream at the sudden pain. Not that she has not been titty tortured before, but the suddenness of his motions have made her vulnerable and panting for more. 

In the bed, Pravin stirs. What will he do if he wakes up and finds the woman he’s purchased for the night being violated in front of his eyes? Nothing, most probably. Nimbu-paani, like Baldev said.

Baldev is whispering in her ear. “You are one hot cunt, aren’t you, whore?”

He has her hair balled up in one hand and her head is painfully pulled back, and she can’t even nod. All she can do is gasp. 

“You get it on with your office colleagues, don’t you cunt?”

She gasps again, lacking the power to conform or deny.

“I bet you fuck the chaprasi types, the cleaners, the low level guys, don’t you?” His voice is delighted, vicious. 

Swati cannot tell him how close to the truth he is, and she knows he doesn’t care. A moment of panic crosses her mind; does he really know, or are these just power and sex games for him? Is it possible that he knows? 

“How would you know something like that?” Her tone is neutral, not admitting to what he is implying. Or denying it. Very lawyer-like, she thinks.

He chuckles deep in his beard. “The look in your slut eyes, bitch,” he says. “And also, you think I missed that arrow pointing down at your slut cunt?”

Swati has taken care that her bush remains in pristine condition. She has taken the time and effort to shape the arrow her trimmed bush makes. She wasn't sure it was visible in the dimly lit drawing room where they had congregated before pairing off, but clearly, Baldev’s sleepy eyes had missed nothing. 

Regardless, she decides that all that Baldev has said in mere conjecture. He doesn’t know anything. 

Then she relaxes into his powerful grip.

Baldev starts inserting his giant cock into her ass. That, it seems, is his preference. He could have chosen either hole from the position she was in, but ass is what it was.

Swati whimpers and tries to relax as she accommodates him.