18-06-2019, 04:01 PM
He took it and watched as she mopped her neck and face. Strands of hair clung to her brow and the nape of her neck. Her skin looked hot and flushed.
She bent to straighten the carpet and now, as her sweat-shirt swung low, he could see more of her breasts, even the shadows of her aureoles and the stiff point of one nipple.
She sat in the chair opposite him, her legs apart in what looked to be a wanton pose and, with her skirt riding high on her thighs, he thought he could make out that she had taken off her panties too, caught a glimpse of the darkness of her pubic thatch.
She leaned back in the deep chair and her sweat-shirt strained and opened and he studied the bulge of her breasts, the exposed flesh at the V where the zip stopped.
Jayant was perspiring and only part of it was due to the tennis game. He rocked back and forth for a minute, then rose and unzipped his sweat-shirt.
"It really is hot in your Bombay," he said.
"Big talk from the Aurangabad types again?" she laughed.
He grinned and shrugged off his sweat-shirt. Crossing his arms, he pulled the T-shirt off his head. Anuja's pulse quickened with excitement as she saw his naked torso, V-shaped, hard, strong, hairless, the flat belly, the deep, cleaved chest with small, hard nipples pulled wide and low on either side of the thick pectorals.
Jayant slung the towel across his neck.
"That's better," he sighed and stood under the fan.
"You'll catch a cold. Switch off the fan."
"Don't be daft. I'll melt."
"You're mad. Then you'll get a temperature and sniffle all day long and I'll have to sit here and look after you and pamper you like a baby."
"I can look after myself."
"What rubbish. Remember the last time you fell ill? A poor little cold and you acted like you were dying or something."
"I just wanted some tender loving care."
"Which you got."
"Not from you. As I remember, you came in and shouted at me and told me to stop being such a ninny."
Anuja grinned. "But it worked, didn't it? You were out of bed like a shot."
He is very close to her, in nothing but his shorts, and the proximity of his sexy, masculine, sweating body so close – and yet so far -- thrilled her.
She felt her breasts swell with excitement, her nipples stiffening, her cunt beginning to ooze the first, delicious drops of cunt-juice.
He laughed softly and, hands on his hips, tossed his head back with a sigh of relief as the cool breeze from the fan fluttered over his half-naked body.
He was so close to her that Anuja had only to turn her face to touch his crotch with her lips; and, for a second, she was indeed tempted. But she hesitated, still unsure of his reaction, still waiting, groping.
He bent his head and smiled down at her. She had leaned back in the chair, her eyes closed and now he had a perfect view down her cleavage. He wondered whether he should make the move; but he, too, he hesitated.
Instead, he stepped back a pace. He went into the bathroom. Anuja sighed softly as she heard the door click, and then, a minute later, the soft gurgle of the toilet flushing.
"You know what, we should have gone for a swim," Jayant said coming back.
Anuja opened her eyes and looked at him. "We could, still."
"Nah, forget it. Too much of a bother, going all the way back and changing all over again. Next time."
Anuja smiled suddenly, brightly. "Oh come on, Jay, don't be so dull. Let's go, it'll be such fun! And I've got this lovely new swimming costume I'm just dying to wear."
Jayant grinned. "Simpler just to shower."
"Let me show you my new costume. You'll love it. Just wait a sec, I'll change."
"What for? We're not going anyway."
Anuja pouted. He really was infuriating. "But I want to show it to you, do you mind?"
"No," he laughed. "Go, put it on."
"That's better. Now don't you go away."
"And where would I go?"
"God knows. You're always rushing around."
She brushed past him and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Inside, she pulled out her new, skimpy string bikini from a low cabinet and put it on. It was devastating.
The bikini bra was the size of a band-aid, narrow strips of cloth that barely covered her nipples. The panties were small and tight; behind, there was nothing and her buttocks were completely exposed; in front it tapered to such a narrow triangular strip that only her cunt-lips were covered.
Studying herself in the mirror, she adjusted the panties just so; pubic hair spread on either side of the bikini panties. As she turned to leave, she noticed his underpants hanging on the hook on the inside of the door and stopped in her tracks.
Her pulse quickened. He had nothing on under his shorts, she realised. Her lust flared. She opened the bathroom and stepped out.
Later, she regretted not catching his reaction on film. It was absolutely priceless. His jaw literally dropped and he froze. She pirouetted prettily, her breasts bouncing and sashayed towards him. His eyes devoured her body.
"Like it? Do you like it? Isn't it sexy?" she sang.
"Fuck!" she heard him gasp under his breath. "Oh fuck!"
*Yes, please, she wanted to say*. *God, yes, and quickly, I'm hot*. She smiled and twirled around.
"Well? What do you think?"
"My god ... it's ... you're ... fantastic!"
"You really think so? You really mean it?"
"God, Anuja, yes!"
She pouted before the mirror on her dressing table. "You don't think my tits are too big?"
She slid her hands up under her breasts and lifted them in the bikini top. He followed her, standing behind her, gulping, his erection raging.
He watched as she cupped her breasts, the little fingers and edges of her palms meeting in her cleavage, then slowly squeezing them in an utterly erotic action.
She bent to straighten the carpet and now, as her sweat-shirt swung low, he could see more of her breasts, even the shadows of her aureoles and the stiff point of one nipple.
She sat in the chair opposite him, her legs apart in what looked to be a wanton pose and, with her skirt riding high on her thighs, he thought he could make out that she had taken off her panties too, caught a glimpse of the darkness of her pubic thatch.
She leaned back in the deep chair and her sweat-shirt strained and opened and he studied the bulge of her breasts, the exposed flesh at the V where the zip stopped.
Jayant was perspiring and only part of it was due to the tennis game. He rocked back and forth for a minute, then rose and unzipped his sweat-shirt.
"It really is hot in your Bombay," he said.
"Big talk from the Aurangabad types again?" she laughed.
He grinned and shrugged off his sweat-shirt. Crossing his arms, he pulled the T-shirt off his head. Anuja's pulse quickened with excitement as she saw his naked torso, V-shaped, hard, strong, hairless, the flat belly, the deep, cleaved chest with small, hard nipples pulled wide and low on either side of the thick pectorals.
Jayant slung the towel across his neck.
"That's better," he sighed and stood under the fan.
"You'll catch a cold. Switch off the fan."
"Don't be daft. I'll melt."
"You're mad. Then you'll get a temperature and sniffle all day long and I'll have to sit here and look after you and pamper you like a baby."
"I can look after myself."
"What rubbish. Remember the last time you fell ill? A poor little cold and you acted like you were dying or something."
"I just wanted some tender loving care."
"Which you got."
"Not from you. As I remember, you came in and shouted at me and told me to stop being such a ninny."
Anuja grinned. "But it worked, didn't it? You were out of bed like a shot."
He is very close to her, in nothing but his shorts, and the proximity of his sexy, masculine, sweating body so close – and yet so far -- thrilled her.
She felt her breasts swell with excitement, her nipples stiffening, her cunt beginning to ooze the first, delicious drops of cunt-juice.
He laughed softly and, hands on his hips, tossed his head back with a sigh of relief as the cool breeze from the fan fluttered over his half-naked body.
He was so close to her that Anuja had only to turn her face to touch his crotch with her lips; and, for a second, she was indeed tempted. But she hesitated, still unsure of his reaction, still waiting, groping.
He bent his head and smiled down at her. She had leaned back in the chair, her eyes closed and now he had a perfect view down her cleavage. He wondered whether he should make the move; but he, too, he hesitated.
Instead, he stepped back a pace. He went into the bathroom. Anuja sighed softly as she heard the door click, and then, a minute later, the soft gurgle of the toilet flushing.
"You know what, we should have gone for a swim," Jayant said coming back.
Anuja opened her eyes and looked at him. "We could, still."
"Nah, forget it. Too much of a bother, going all the way back and changing all over again. Next time."
Anuja smiled suddenly, brightly. "Oh come on, Jay, don't be so dull. Let's go, it'll be such fun! And I've got this lovely new swimming costume I'm just dying to wear."
Jayant grinned. "Simpler just to shower."
"Let me show you my new costume. You'll love it. Just wait a sec, I'll change."
"What for? We're not going anyway."
Anuja pouted. He really was infuriating. "But I want to show it to you, do you mind?"
"No," he laughed. "Go, put it on."
"That's better. Now don't you go away."
"And where would I go?"
"God knows. You're always rushing around."
She brushed past him and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Inside, she pulled out her new, skimpy string bikini from a low cabinet and put it on. It was devastating.
The bikini bra was the size of a band-aid, narrow strips of cloth that barely covered her nipples. The panties were small and tight; behind, there was nothing and her buttocks were completely exposed; in front it tapered to such a narrow triangular strip that only her cunt-lips were covered.
Studying herself in the mirror, she adjusted the panties just so; pubic hair spread on either side of the bikini panties. As she turned to leave, she noticed his underpants hanging on the hook on the inside of the door and stopped in her tracks.
Her pulse quickened. He had nothing on under his shorts, she realised. Her lust flared. She opened the bathroom and stepped out.
Later, she regretted not catching his reaction on film. It was absolutely priceless. His jaw literally dropped and he froze. She pirouetted prettily, her breasts bouncing and sashayed towards him. His eyes devoured her body.
"Like it? Do you like it? Isn't it sexy?" she sang.
"Fuck!" she heard him gasp under his breath. "Oh fuck!"
*Yes, please, she wanted to say*. *God, yes, and quickly, I'm hot*. She smiled and twirled around.
"Well? What do you think?"
"My god ... it's ... you're ... fantastic!"
"You really think so? You really mean it?"
"God, Anuja, yes!"
She pouted before the mirror on her dressing table. "You don't think my tits are too big?"
She slid her hands up under her breasts and lifted them in the bikini top. He followed her, standing behind her, gulping, his erection raging.
He watched as she cupped her breasts, the little fingers and edges of her palms meeting in her cleavage, then slowly squeezing them in an utterly erotic action.
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