15-06-2019, 06:36 PM
"Come on, Baban ... lick my slit ... fuck me with your tongue!" The teenager's voice was husky and sibilant, deeply erotic.
The darkly handsome, hard-bodied youth smiled down at the lovely, dusky seventeen-year old girl sprawled wantonly before him. Her body was luscious, already ripened into womanhood, with large breasts and flared hips.
Her belly was firm and flat, her arms and legs smooth and slender. Her face was sensuous, slightly heavy-lipped and fleshy-nosed, but sexy all the same.
Her eyes were large and dark, rimmed with *kajal*, and her hair was thick and long, twisted into a long braid. Baban liked his women earthy and sensual.
The young servant smiled and thrust his face into her crotch. Anuja gasped softly and arched her back in pleasure. His tongue rippled down her sodden cunt-lips and through moist flesh within.
It felt wonderful. Anuja spread her legs still wider and, gripped is head in her crotch, her hips raised high. His tongue swirled through her cunt-flesh and flickered against her gorged clitoris.
She moaned softly. He slid his hands up to her turgid breasts and squeezed them, pinching her rigid nipples. Anuja sighed in pleasure, writhing on the bed. His tongue jabbed into her cunt and she gasped loudly, arching her back.
"Ohh! OH! Oh yes! Yes! Ohh! Unhhh! Ohhhh!"
Her face flipped languorously from side to side, her lips parted in a gentle 'O' of pleasure. Her body jerked back and forth on the bed as though she was being fucked, and her large breasts jiggled erotically. She squeezed them in rising excitement, moaning with pleasure.
Three months earlier, a virgin then, she offered herself to Baban on a hot afternoon when she was alone at home. Her father was at work, and her mother was at a ladies' luncheon.
Anuja was feeling sexy and she lay in bed, masturbating gently and unhurriedly with
a large, long white radish. She slid the vegetable gently in and out of her cunt and wondered what it would feel like to have a real penis in her flesh. If only there was a man available.
The realisation hit her suddenly and she stopped. Baban. Of course. Baban was available. He was in the house, and they were alone. Anuja's pulse quickened. For a second, she hesitated, pondering the risks and the consequences if they were caught.
But her sexuality would not be denied. It was high time she had a lover. And Baban had entered her fantasies frequently.
Anuja's knowledge of sex came from biology text-books and her father's sex manuals she read surreptitiously when her parents were out of the house.
Since fourteen, when she discovered her sexuality, she had experimented with herself, masturbating daily, often several times a day, with a number of household objects: hairbrushes, toothbrushes, bananas, vegetables -- cucumbers, gourds, the long white radishes -- the handles of the wooden clothes- paddle handle and her tennis racquets; anything served.
She had a vivid imagination and fantasised constantly. No matter how often she masturbated, it was never enough; the sense of dissatisfaction persisted. She longed for the real thing.
Abandoning the radish, her heart racing with excitement, Anuja got up. She knotted her hair quickly behind her head and, for a second, debated what to wear. Looking around, she spotted her tennis gear, and grinned in delight.
Quickly, she slipped into her white cotton T-shirt and short tennis skirt, deliberately abjuring all underwear. She braided her hair and, holding her shoes in one hand, her racquets in the other, she twirled before her full-length mirror.
The T-shirt was translucent and her breasts and nipples and aureoles were clearly visible. Her breasts bounced as she moved and she thought it very erotic.
Bending over, she smiled at her reflection as she saw her skirt slide up her thighs and reveal her buttocks and naked cunt beneath. Perfect. Baban would not be able to resist her.
He was in the hall, sweeping the floor on his haunches when she entered and dumped her sports bag on the sofa seat. For a moment, she looked at him with a rush of pleasure.
He moved smoothly and easily in the difficult position, crabbing across the floor, the muscles rippling in his thighs and shoulders.
He wore a tight white vest and baggy shorts. He looked up at her and she saw the swift intake of breath.
"I'm going to the club. Tennis," she murmured, eyeing him lasciviously.
He stared at her and nodded slowly. She turned her back and bent forward at the waist over the back of the couch to pick up her bag, her feet spread apart.
Her skirt slid up, high over her hips and she heard him gasp when he saw her naked buttocks and thighs, the puckered darkness of her anus, the bewitching fuzz of her cunt.
With her legs spread, her cunt-lips opened slightly and he could even see the tender flesh within. She paused for the merest fraction of a second, letting him have a good look. The swish of his broom stopped. There was utter silence. The broom clattered to the floor. Anuja didn't move.
The darkly handsome, hard-bodied youth smiled down at the lovely, dusky seventeen-year old girl sprawled wantonly before him. Her body was luscious, already ripened into womanhood, with large breasts and flared hips.
Her belly was firm and flat, her arms and legs smooth and slender. Her face was sensuous, slightly heavy-lipped and fleshy-nosed, but sexy all the same.
Her eyes were large and dark, rimmed with *kajal*, and her hair was thick and long, twisted into a long braid. Baban liked his women earthy and sensual.
The young servant smiled and thrust his face into her crotch. Anuja gasped softly and arched her back in pleasure. His tongue rippled down her sodden cunt-lips and through moist flesh within.
It felt wonderful. Anuja spread her legs still wider and, gripped is head in her crotch, her hips raised high. His tongue swirled through her cunt-flesh and flickered against her gorged clitoris.
She moaned softly. He slid his hands up to her turgid breasts and squeezed them, pinching her rigid nipples. Anuja sighed in pleasure, writhing on the bed. His tongue jabbed into her cunt and she gasped loudly, arching her back.
"Ohh! OH! Oh yes! Yes! Ohh! Unhhh! Ohhhh!"
Her face flipped languorously from side to side, her lips parted in a gentle 'O' of pleasure. Her body jerked back and forth on the bed as though she was being fucked, and her large breasts jiggled erotically. She squeezed them in rising excitement, moaning with pleasure.
Three months earlier, a virgin then, she offered herself to Baban on a hot afternoon when she was alone at home. Her father was at work, and her mother was at a ladies' luncheon.
Anuja was feeling sexy and she lay in bed, masturbating gently and unhurriedly with
a large, long white radish. She slid the vegetable gently in and out of her cunt and wondered what it would feel like to have a real penis in her flesh. If only there was a man available.
The realisation hit her suddenly and she stopped. Baban. Of course. Baban was available. He was in the house, and they were alone. Anuja's pulse quickened. For a second, she hesitated, pondering the risks and the consequences if they were caught.
But her sexuality would not be denied. It was high time she had a lover. And Baban had entered her fantasies frequently.
Anuja's knowledge of sex came from biology text-books and her father's sex manuals she read surreptitiously when her parents were out of the house.
Since fourteen, when she discovered her sexuality, she had experimented with herself, masturbating daily, often several times a day, with a number of household objects: hairbrushes, toothbrushes, bananas, vegetables -- cucumbers, gourds, the long white radishes -- the handles of the wooden clothes- paddle handle and her tennis racquets; anything served.
She had a vivid imagination and fantasised constantly. No matter how often she masturbated, it was never enough; the sense of dissatisfaction persisted. She longed for the real thing.
Abandoning the radish, her heart racing with excitement, Anuja got up. She knotted her hair quickly behind her head and, for a second, debated what to wear. Looking around, she spotted her tennis gear, and grinned in delight.
Quickly, she slipped into her white cotton T-shirt and short tennis skirt, deliberately abjuring all underwear. She braided her hair and, holding her shoes in one hand, her racquets in the other, she twirled before her full-length mirror.
The T-shirt was translucent and her breasts and nipples and aureoles were clearly visible. Her breasts bounced as she moved and she thought it very erotic.
Bending over, she smiled at her reflection as she saw her skirt slide up her thighs and reveal her buttocks and naked cunt beneath. Perfect. Baban would not be able to resist her.
He was in the hall, sweeping the floor on his haunches when she entered and dumped her sports bag on the sofa seat. For a moment, she looked at him with a rush of pleasure.
He moved smoothly and easily in the difficult position, crabbing across the floor, the muscles rippling in his thighs and shoulders.
He wore a tight white vest and baggy shorts. He looked up at her and she saw the swift intake of breath.
"I'm going to the club. Tennis," she murmured, eyeing him lasciviously.
He stared at her and nodded slowly. She turned her back and bent forward at the waist over the back of the couch to pick up her bag, her feet spread apart.
Her skirt slid up, high over her hips and she heard him gasp when he saw her naked buttocks and thighs, the puckered darkness of her anus, the bewitching fuzz of her cunt.
With her legs spread, her cunt-lips opened slightly and he could even see the tender flesh within. She paused for the merest fraction of a second, letting him have a good look. The swish of his broom stopped. There was utter silence. The broom clattered to the floor. Anuja didn't move.
Like, Comment and Give Rating.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)