30-06-2019, 01:04 PM
The gold necklace and long glistened against her creamy skin. The blouse was cut short and high, the lower hem running hard under her breasts which jutted provocatively over her flat belly.
She wore her *sari* very low on her hips, well below her navel, and he could see a long expanse of the smooth, unblemished flesh of her midriff. Mukesh didn't know it but she was naked under the blouse and the *sari* , without even a petticoat -- she had perfected the technique of wearing *sari* s like this, so that with the slightest tug, they unravelled at once.
Mukesh was dark and lean and good-looking with a square-jawed, strong-nosed face, a slim mouth, deep-set, dark eyes, and a hard, muscular body.
He was dressed only in baggy shorts and a close-fitting cotton vest that showed off the contours of his muscular body and the cleft in his chest.
His torso was hairless, which she found sexy. She had never liked hairy men, though she had fucked her share of them. He was doing the dishes while she prepared dinner.
She glanced at the kitchen clock. She would have to hurry. If she was going to fuck Mukesh, she'd have to do it now.
Jayant would be home in another hour. She smiled to herself; time enough for a good fuck with this new servant.
He was her first conquest after she married Jayant. With the air clear between them, there was no reason to force on herself a continence she did not want.
Vaishali knew he was watching her as she kneaded the dough for the chappatis, the wafer-thin discs of unleavened bread. It was hard work, and her shoulders hunched and her breasts squeezed together as she deftly knuckled the soft mass of dough.
She saw him glance at her and saw his eyes glitter as he watched her breasts move under her *pallu* . She flicked her eyes down and saw the promising bulge between his thighs.
She smiled to herself. Not long now. She rose slightly on her feet, pressing down hard on the dough, her arms stretched, her shoulders hunched and, as she had planned, the *pallu* of her *sari* slid off her shoulder.
It fell down to the shallow steel plate in which she had the ball of dough and exposed her breasts and cleavage. She made no move to raise it. She heard his sharp intake of breath and hid a smile.
There was a steel tumbler of water for the dough by the plate. She reached for it and, accidentally-on-purpose, knocked it off the counter. It clanged to the floor and she clucked in mock irritation.
Abandoning the dough, she turned and bent steeply from the waist to retrieve it, the *sari* still off her shoulder. She was facing him when she bent over and Mukesh saw her full breasts bunch and swing. Her *mangalsutra* was squeezed between the luscious mounds. He was only inches from her body.
Mukesh's loins blazed with the pent-up lust-heat of the day. The sight of her breasts in such close proximity was too much to bear. He wanted to take them in his hands, to drive his cock into her mouth, into her cunt, into her ... anus ... God, he could even smell her, she was so close, a clean and sexy-sweet intensely erotic aroma of her body and soap and soft perfume.
He lost control. With a strangled cry, he bent forward and thrust his wet hands deep down the neck of her blouse, groping and crushing her breasts.
He expected her to shout, scream, squeal, struggle free, anything. Mad with lust, he would have bangd her there and then. Her reaction stunned him.
She stopped, one hand on the tumbler, still bent over and looked up at him. His mind jerked in surprise as he realised that her nipples were hard and her breasts were swelling to turgidity in his hands.
She tilted her lovely face up and a gentle smile lit her eyes and her teeth flashed. He froze incredulously. She let the tumbler go and her lips parted and he saw her eyes shining with excitement. Her tongue peeked between her lips.
She did more. Hunching her shoulders, she squeezed her breasts into his hands. In an utterly wanton, lascivious motion, she rocked gently back and forth, rubbing her nipples against his palms.
He gasped and, quickly, squeezed them. Her face spasmed with unfaked pleasure. A slow grin creased his face. He rolled her rigid nipples under his callused palms. She gasped softly.
Vaishali slid to her knees slowly with his hands still inside her blouse. Instantly, he understood what was going to happen. He straightened. She bent her face towards his crotch and slid her hands up his strong thighs.
He looked down, still reeling in disbelief. Her face moved closer to his groin and she nuzzled his crotch gently.
Her lips parted delicately, and he gasped in shock as he felt her warm breath and fiery tongue probing at his cock-head through the thick cloth of his shorts.
"I've caused you trouble, haven't I, Mukesh?" she murmured softly, her voice low.
He stared at her, half-grin, still dumbfounded. Her eyes sparkled in delight.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I know the solution."
She wore her *sari* very low on her hips, well below her navel, and he could see a long expanse of the smooth, unblemished flesh of her midriff. Mukesh didn't know it but she was naked under the blouse and the *sari* , without even a petticoat -- she had perfected the technique of wearing *sari* s like this, so that with the slightest tug, they unravelled at once.
Mukesh was dark and lean and good-looking with a square-jawed, strong-nosed face, a slim mouth, deep-set, dark eyes, and a hard, muscular body.
He was dressed only in baggy shorts and a close-fitting cotton vest that showed off the contours of his muscular body and the cleft in his chest.
His torso was hairless, which she found sexy. She had never liked hairy men, though she had fucked her share of them. He was doing the dishes while she prepared dinner.
She glanced at the kitchen clock. She would have to hurry. If she was going to fuck Mukesh, she'd have to do it now.
Jayant would be home in another hour. She smiled to herself; time enough for a good fuck with this new servant.
He was her first conquest after she married Jayant. With the air clear between them, there was no reason to force on herself a continence she did not want.
Vaishali knew he was watching her as she kneaded the dough for the chappatis, the wafer-thin discs of unleavened bread. It was hard work, and her shoulders hunched and her breasts squeezed together as she deftly knuckled the soft mass of dough.
She saw him glance at her and saw his eyes glitter as he watched her breasts move under her *pallu* . She flicked her eyes down and saw the promising bulge between his thighs.
She smiled to herself. Not long now. She rose slightly on her feet, pressing down hard on the dough, her arms stretched, her shoulders hunched and, as she had planned, the *pallu* of her *sari* slid off her shoulder.
It fell down to the shallow steel plate in which she had the ball of dough and exposed her breasts and cleavage. She made no move to raise it. She heard his sharp intake of breath and hid a smile.
There was a steel tumbler of water for the dough by the plate. She reached for it and, accidentally-on-purpose, knocked it off the counter. It clanged to the floor and she clucked in mock irritation.
Abandoning the dough, she turned and bent steeply from the waist to retrieve it, the *sari* still off her shoulder. She was facing him when she bent over and Mukesh saw her full breasts bunch and swing. Her *mangalsutra* was squeezed between the luscious mounds. He was only inches from her body.
Mukesh's loins blazed with the pent-up lust-heat of the day. The sight of her breasts in such close proximity was too much to bear. He wanted to take them in his hands, to drive his cock into her mouth, into her cunt, into her ... anus ... God, he could even smell her, she was so close, a clean and sexy-sweet intensely erotic aroma of her body and soap and soft perfume.
He lost control. With a strangled cry, he bent forward and thrust his wet hands deep down the neck of her blouse, groping and crushing her breasts.
He expected her to shout, scream, squeal, struggle free, anything. Mad with lust, he would have bangd her there and then. Her reaction stunned him.
She stopped, one hand on the tumbler, still bent over and looked up at him. His mind jerked in surprise as he realised that her nipples were hard and her breasts were swelling to turgidity in his hands.
She tilted her lovely face up and a gentle smile lit her eyes and her teeth flashed. He froze incredulously. She let the tumbler go and her lips parted and he saw her eyes shining with excitement. Her tongue peeked between her lips.
She did more. Hunching her shoulders, she squeezed her breasts into his hands. In an utterly wanton, lascivious motion, she rocked gently back and forth, rubbing her nipples against his palms.
He gasped and, quickly, squeezed them. Her face spasmed with unfaked pleasure. A slow grin creased his face. He rolled her rigid nipples under his callused palms. She gasped softly.
Vaishali slid to her knees slowly with his hands still inside her blouse. Instantly, he understood what was going to happen. He straightened. She bent her face towards his crotch and slid her hands up his strong thighs.
He looked down, still reeling in disbelief. Her face moved closer to his groin and she nuzzled his crotch gently.
Her lips parted delicately, and he gasped in shock as he felt her warm breath and fiery tongue probing at his cock-head through the thick cloth of his shorts.
"I've caused you trouble, haven't I, Mukesh?" she murmured softly, her voice low.
He stared at her, half-grin, still dumbfounded. Her eyes sparkled in delight.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I know the solution."
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