15-06-2019, 06:16 PM
He is very cute, very sexy and not terribly bright. But it's not his mind she's interested in. He has the face of a film-star and the body of a demi-god. He knows this and he takes good care of himself. He is clean-shaven with the square-jawed, rugged features of a Maratha. His nose is strong and straight, his cheeks sexily hollowed, his lips full and wide and sensual and his teeth are white and strong.
His eyes are dark and deep-set under thick eyebrows. His hair is thick and dark. His body is stunning; she knows he lifts weights and works out for hours on end to keep in shape. A bullish neck spans out to broad, powerful shoulders. His torso is a breathtakingly slashed V that tapers to a narrow waist and high hips. His chest is broad and deeply cleaved and his belly is hard and flat.
His arms and legs are thick and long and bunched with muscle. His torso is hairless; even his armpits are depilated-- she has seen it under his open shirt. She finds this very sexy; she doesn't like hairy men. She has noticed the prominent bulge in his crotch and frequently fantasizes about his cock. She imagines it must be enormously long and thick.
Shirlyn and Manish at the dining table. A spread of notebooks and files and textbooks and papers, a clutter of pencils, pens, erasers. Manish's brow is furrowed and he looks grey and tired,his eyes glassy. Shirlyn has her spectacles perched on her nose, a book open upside down before her, right way up before him, a pencil in her slim fingers. She is wearing a brightly coloured synthetic skirt and blouse. It clings to her body like film.
The neck of her blouse is cut in a dangerously deep U that shows a good deal of her chest, the swell of her breasts squeezed together under it. The blouse has no buttons, just knotted ends beneath her breasts. The blouse is short and tight and her breasts jut out provocatively over her bare midriff.
The skirt is slung precariously far below her navel. He knows that from behind, the blouse is cut way, way down with low, scooped shoulders and shows most of her back, the honey gold skin glistening soft and smooth as a gbang, and he longs to touch it, run his fingers over it.
Her mouth is moving, and all he can see is the bright flash of her teeth and the darting of her tongue. His eyes keep slipping down. The blouse is translucent and he can see her breasts, most of them, full and heavy, the gold necklace twinkling on her creamy skin, disappearing in a taper between her breasts. Beneath, her naked midriff keeps flashing at him beneath her blouse.
"Manish! Manish!" She snaps her fingers in his face. He has drifted off again.
Exasperated, she tosses down the pencil. It skitters off the page and the table, clatters to the floor. She pushes her chair back and bends to pick it up.
Manish stifles a groan. As she bends, the lapels of her blouse fall low so that he has an unimpeded view of her breasts, can see the deep cleavage and the gold necklace nestling in the vale, can gauge the size and form of her breasts. She pauses a little longer than necessary, but he doesn't notice, keeps staring. She straightens and adjusts her blouse casually. He blanks out again, the magic moment is lost.
She shuts the math textbook. "Okay, Manish. You're not taking in any of this. Let's try something else. Get the Bio book."
Dumbly, he pulls out a thick volume from the stack at his elbow. She notices how smoothly and easily his muscles move, rippling under his skin. He is wearing jeans and an unbuttoned, open shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps. His forearms are thick and criss-crossed with sinewy and bulging veins.
Under the shirt, she can see his hard, muscular torso and she licks her lips as her eyes slide surreptitiously over his frame, lingering on the small, hard, stiff nipples that are pulled wide and low on either side of his cleaved chest.
"Open it. Chapter twenty-two. Reproduction."
He flips open the book and stares at the diagrams. A cock. A cunt. Sperm swimming towards eggs. Fuck. He looks at her.
"This ... this isn't in the prelims portion, is it?" he asks nervously.
She conceals a smile. "No. Not yet. But it's interesting. It's different from what you've been doing, it'll be a change and you'll learn something."
Manish watching in a daze as she edges closer, her knee touching his and begins to explain the different parts. The scrotum. The testes. The penis. A mass of cartilage. Erections. Thickened with blood surging through veins.
Sperm comes from the testes, also known as the gonads, through the vas deferens. During reproduction, also known as copulation or intercourse, the erect penis is inserted into the vaginal aperture. Ejaculation causes a release of sperm. Millions of little squids swim through the vaginal fluid to a rendezvous with ova. One or two will make it.
The others perish. Never mind. More where that came from. Her fingers touch the back of his hand. Her blouse lapels droop. He sees her breasts again. Oh god. She isn't wearing a bra. He can see her nipples through the blouse. They're hard. Stiff little stubs. He wants to pinch them. She shuts the book, pushes her chair back and gets up.
"Okay, that's enough for today. We'll meet again tomorrow."
He gets up and sees her out. When she's gone, he goes mad. Rushes around crazily, doesn't know what to do. Masturbates and comes, masturbates again, comes again. And again.
When his elder brother returns from work, Manish is asleep. The elder boy looks in on his kid brother. Poor kid. Ever since their parents died in that car crash, he's done everything he could to get him through school. Nothing seems to work. He doesn't read, can't handle schoolwork, just works out, works out, works out. Great body as a result. But an real dumb. He picks up the phone.
"Hello, Shirlyn? It's me, Anand."
"Hi Anand. How's it going?"
"Fine. And you?"
"Very well."
"Sorry, you busy?"
"Mm. No, not really. Go on."
Shirlyn sees no reason to mention that she is busy. Busy as a beaver. Busy with a tongue in her beaver. She's in bed with, Barku, an office-boy from the firm she works for. In India, they call them peons. They do the dirty work, sweeping, delivering stuff, carrying messages, standing in lines to pay phone bills. The work is tough and their lives are hard -- and their bodies show it. Most of them are lean, muscular, sun-hardened men. Shirlyn loves fucking them.
His eyes are dark and deep-set under thick eyebrows. His hair is thick and dark. His body is stunning; she knows he lifts weights and works out for hours on end to keep in shape. A bullish neck spans out to broad, powerful shoulders. His torso is a breathtakingly slashed V that tapers to a narrow waist and high hips. His chest is broad and deeply cleaved and his belly is hard and flat.
His arms and legs are thick and long and bunched with muscle. His torso is hairless; even his armpits are depilated-- she has seen it under his open shirt. She finds this very sexy; she doesn't like hairy men. She has noticed the prominent bulge in his crotch and frequently fantasizes about his cock. She imagines it must be enormously long and thick.
Shirlyn and Manish at the dining table. A spread of notebooks and files and textbooks and papers, a clutter of pencils, pens, erasers. Manish's brow is furrowed and he looks grey and tired,his eyes glassy. Shirlyn has her spectacles perched on her nose, a book open upside down before her, right way up before him, a pencil in her slim fingers. She is wearing a brightly coloured synthetic skirt and blouse. It clings to her body like film.
The neck of her blouse is cut in a dangerously deep U that shows a good deal of her chest, the swell of her breasts squeezed together under it. The blouse has no buttons, just knotted ends beneath her breasts. The blouse is short and tight and her breasts jut out provocatively over her bare midriff.
The skirt is slung precariously far below her navel. He knows that from behind, the blouse is cut way, way down with low, scooped shoulders and shows most of her back, the honey gold skin glistening soft and smooth as a gbang, and he longs to touch it, run his fingers over it.
Her mouth is moving, and all he can see is the bright flash of her teeth and the darting of her tongue. His eyes keep slipping down. The blouse is translucent and he can see her breasts, most of them, full and heavy, the gold necklace twinkling on her creamy skin, disappearing in a taper between her breasts. Beneath, her naked midriff keeps flashing at him beneath her blouse.
"Manish! Manish!" She snaps her fingers in his face. He has drifted off again.
Exasperated, she tosses down the pencil. It skitters off the page and the table, clatters to the floor. She pushes her chair back and bends to pick it up.
Manish stifles a groan. As she bends, the lapels of her blouse fall low so that he has an unimpeded view of her breasts, can see the deep cleavage and the gold necklace nestling in the vale, can gauge the size and form of her breasts. She pauses a little longer than necessary, but he doesn't notice, keeps staring. She straightens and adjusts her blouse casually. He blanks out again, the magic moment is lost.
She shuts the math textbook. "Okay, Manish. You're not taking in any of this. Let's try something else. Get the Bio book."
Dumbly, he pulls out a thick volume from the stack at his elbow. She notices how smoothly and easily his muscles move, rippling under his skin. He is wearing jeans and an unbuttoned, open shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps. His forearms are thick and criss-crossed with sinewy and bulging veins.
Under the shirt, she can see his hard, muscular torso and she licks her lips as her eyes slide surreptitiously over his frame, lingering on the small, hard, stiff nipples that are pulled wide and low on either side of his cleaved chest.
"Open it. Chapter twenty-two. Reproduction."
He flips open the book and stares at the diagrams. A cock. A cunt. Sperm swimming towards eggs. Fuck. He looks at her.
"This ... this isn't in the prelims portion, is it?" he asks nervously.
She conceals a smile. "No. Not yet. But it's interesting. It's different from what you've been doing, it'll be a change and you'll learn something."
Manish watching in a daze as she edges closer, her knee touching his and begins to explain the different parts. The scrotum. The testes. The penis. A mass of cartilage. Erections. Thickened with blood surging through veins.
Sperm comes from the testes, also known as the gonads, through the vas deferens. During reproduction, also known as copulation or intercourse, the erect penis is inserted into the vaginal aperture. Ejaculation causes a release of sperm. Millions of little squids swim through the vaginal fluid to a rendezvous with ova. One or two will make it.
The others perish. Never mind. More where that came from. Her fingers touch the back of his hand. Her blouse lapels droop. He sees her breasts again. Oh god. She isn't wearing a bra. He can see her nipples through the blouse. They're hard. Stiff little stubs. He wants to pinch them. She shuts the book, pushes her chair back and gets up.
"Okay, that's enough for today. We'll meet again tomorrow."
He gets up and sees her out. When she's gone, he goes mad. Rushes around crazily, doesn't know what to do. Masturbates and comes, masturbates again, comes again. And again.
When his elder brother returns from work, Manish is asleep. The elder boy looks in on his kid brother. Poor kid. Ever since their parents died in that car crash, he's done everything he could to get him through school. Nothing seems to work. He doesn't read, can't handle schoolwork, just works out, works out, works out. Great body as a result. But an real dumb. He picks up the phone.
"Hello, Shirlyn? It's me, Anand."
"Hi Anand. How's it going?"
"Fine. And you?"
"Very well."
"Sorry, you busy?"
"Mm. No, not really. Go on."
Shirlyn sees no reason to mention that she is busy. Busy as a beaver. Busy with a tongue in her beaver. She's in bed with, Barku, an office-boy from the firm she works for. In India, they call them peons. They do the dirty work, sweeping, delivering stuff, carrying messages, standing in lines to pay phone bills. The work is tough and their lives are hard -- and their bodies show it. Most of them are lean, muscular, sun-hardened men. Shirlyn loves fucking them.
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