15-06-2019, 06:34 PM
Gently, she began to thumb her nipples. Moistening her finger with her tongue, she rubbed her nipples and aureoles. Her nipples stiffened and she pinched them gently, tweaking and twirling the hard stubs.
The servant saw her breathing get shallower and more rapid, the tensing of her body, the parting of her lips, the flaring of her nostrils, all the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal.
She squeezed her breasts in her hands, the flesh squeezing between her fingertips and arched her head, her tongue arching lasciviously over her upper lip.
Outside, watching her, the servant groaned and pulled his erect cock out of his shorts and began to masturbate slowly. He pressed his eye to the keyhole again. She was still fondling her beautiful breasts.
Anuja knew she was being watched. He had been doing this for some weeks now and, long ago, she had seen the dark eye glittering beyond the keyhole and knew it was him.
She felt no revulsion or shame, rather enjoyed the attention. She was horny and sexy, and the man was sexy. So what if he was only a servant? He was a human being, after all, and a very desirable one.
He was quite tall and dark and muscular, with a finely chiseled face and the strong features of the warrior Maratha caste. His eyes were deep-set and dark, his nose fine and straight, his mouth lean and wide.
His shoulders were broad, his chest cleaved and muscular and hard and his belly was a slab of rock. His waist was narrow, his hips were high and buttocks taut.
His arms and legs bore thick bunches of musculature. She knew his body was lean and tough, his torso smoothly hairless. She had often watched him as he came out of his bath in his shorts and nothing else, toweling his thick, tousled hair.
His nipples were small and dark and pulled low and wide on either side of his heavy pectorals.
All said and done, Baban was one sexy hunk of a man and she liked the fact that he desired her. One day, she promised herself, she would entice him to fuck her.
Baban knew nothing of this. His lust for her body was overpowering, and he could not take his eyes off her. He watched as she continued to fondle herself, squeezing and massaging her generous, gorgeous breasts.
How he wanted to feel them, take them in his hands, sense their weight and fullness, feel the stiffness of her nipples in his fingers, watch her pleasure as his hands, not hers, moved over her irresistible flesh.
He gasped softly. In the room, Anuja smiled wantonly at her reflection and slid a hand down to her crotch. Baban watched her face crease in pleasure as she teased her cunt-lips open and rubbed her finger along the slit.
She gasped and her hips lurched, her buttocks writhing and twitching. Her mouth fluttered open and, slowly, she slid a finger into her cunt. Gently, she masturbated before the mirror, moving her finger in and out of her slit, twisting it round and round, while her other hand fondled her visibly swollen breasts.
She gasped softly and her hand moved faster in her crotch, her wrist pumping back and forth. Her hips twitched and lurched, rocking and jerking back and forth, and her fingers were frenzied on her breasts.
Baban groaned in despair. She deserved better than her fingers; she deserved a cock, a big, thick cock in her cunt.
Obviously, Anuja felt no differently. She kept masturbating and, as he watched, leaned forward on an outstretched arm, her hand on the dresser counter and spread her feet wide.
Her buttocks splayed open and Baban had an unobstructed view of her puckered anus and her unfurled cunt-lips with her slender, shapely, elegant finger arched into it, rocking in and out, in and out.
In the mirror, her upturned face was a vision of lust, her mouth a wide 'O'.
Baban pumped his cock eagerly, moaning and gasping. In the room, Anuja's body rocked back and forth and he saw her pendulous breasts jiggling and bouncing, saw, too, the expression of delight on her face and her finger, wet and sticky, wriggling and darting into her tender cunt-flesh.
The servant saw her breathing get shallower and more rapid, the tensing of her body, the parting of her lips, the flaring of her nostrils, all the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal.
She squeezed her breasts in her hands, the flesh squeezing between her fingertips and arched her head, her tongue arching lasciviously over her upper lip.
Outside, watching her, the servant groaned and pulled his erect cock out of his shorts and began to masturbate slowly. He pressed his eye to the keyhole again. She was still fondling her beautiful breasts.
Anuja knew she was being watched. He had been doing this for some weeks now and, long ago, she had seen the dark eye glittering beyond the keyhole and knew it was him.
She felt no revulsion or shame, rather enjoyed the attention. She was horny and sexy, and the man was sexy. So what if he was only a servant? He was a human being, after all, and a very desirable one.
He was quite tall and dark and muscular, with a finely chiseled face and the strong features of the warrior Maratha caste. His eyes were deep-set and dark, his nose fine and straight, his mouth lean and wide.
His shoulders were broad, his chest cleaved and muscular and hard and his belly was a slab of rock. His waist was narrow, his hips were high and buttocks taut.
His arms and legs bore thick bunches of musculature. She knew his body was lean and tough, his torso smoothly hairless. She had often watched him as he came out of his bath in his shorts and nothing else, toweling his thick, tousled hair.
His nipples were small and dark and pulled low and wide on either side of his heavy pectorals.
All said and done, Baban was one sexy hunk of a man and she liked the fact that he desired her. One day, she promised herself, she would entice him to fuck her.
Baban knew nothing of this. His lust for her body was overpowering, and he could not take his eyes off her. He watched as she continued to fondle herself, squeezing and massaging her generous, gorgeous breasts.
How he wanted to feel them, take them in his hands, sense their weight and fullness, feel the stiffness of her nipples in his fingers, watch her pleasure as his hands, not hers, moved over her irresistible flesh.
He gasped softly. In the room, Anuja smiled wantonly at her reflection and slid a hand down to her crotch. Baban watched her face crease in pleasure as she teased her cunt-lips open and rubbed her finger along the slit.
She gasped and her hips lurched, her buttocks writhing and twitching. Her mouth fluttered open and, slowly, she slid a finger into her cunt. Gently, she masturbated before the mirror, moving her finger in and out of her slit, twisting it round and round, while her other hand fondled her visibly swollen breasts.
She gasped softly and her hand moved faster in her crotch, her wrist pumping back and forth. Her hips twitched and lurched, rocking and jerking back and forth, and her fingers were frenzied on her breasts.
Baban groaned in despair. She deserved better than her fingers; she deserved a cock, a big, thick cock in her cunt.
Obviously, Anuja felt no differently. She kept masturbating and, as he watched, leaned forward on an outstretched arm, her hand on the dresser counter and spread her feet wide.
Her buttocks splayed open and Baban had an unobstructed view of her puckered anus and her unfurled cunt-lips with her slender, shapely, elegant finger arched into it, rocking in and out, in and out.
In the mirror, her upturned face was a vision of lust, her mouth a wide 'O'.
Baban pumped his cock eagerly, moaning and gasping. In the room, Anuja's body rocked back and forth and he saw her pendulous breasts jiggling and bouncing, saw, too, the expression of delight on her face and her finger, wet and sticky, wriggling and darting into her tender cunt-flesh.
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