30-06-2019, 02:05 PM
Dilip grinned and, like Aman, folded one note down its length and slipped its end into her cunt, gave her the rest. She kissed the notes, rubbed her thighs together.
"I just love the smell of my cunt on money, don't you?" she murmured sexily.
"Wouldn't know, whore," Dilip laughed. "I never get it back!"
She grinned, stuck her tongue out at him. "Here, take this and keep it. Give me another. That way you can always smell me when you need to."
"Smart," Dilip grinned and took the note from her crotch, slipping another one in its place.
"Thanks."
"When do I see you again?"
"Next week. Monday or Tuesday."
"Same time?"
"Yeah. Okay with you?"
"Hang on." She rolled over and flipped open a diary on her bureau.
"Yeah. Monday's fine. Tuesday a little earlier, if you don't mind. Which one?"
"Monday, then. Monday's good. You need to keep a diary now?"
"Yes. Business is ... *up*, should I say?" she grinned wickedly.
"Can't have a riot at my door, can I? And you know I don't like to keep people waiting."
She got up and kissed him tenderly, caressing his crotch. He grinned at her, fondling her buttocks and breasts.
"Shall I suck you off once more? One for the road? On the house?"
He grinned. "Okay. Sounds good. If you want to."
"Baby," she sighed as she slipped to her knees, undoing his fly and taking out his cock and resting it on her lower lip. "This ... this I *always* want to do."
And Stanley watched as his teenage niece took the stranger's penis in her mouth and began sucking it deftly, jerking it in her fist so that it grew. He fucked her mouth quickly, gasping, his head flung back, his hand moving her head to and fro, his hips pumping back and forth while she sucked his cock till he came at last, moaning, his hips twitching, and the jizz flew from his cock and spurted into her hungry mouth and spattered her lovely face and breasts.
Stanley ducked back into the kitchen, his heart hammering, his body sheathed in sweat. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes. His loins were on fire and there was a deep ache in his balls. He wanted her. God, he wanted her so much so much it hurt.
He heard Dilip go out of the house. The front door was still open. She was obviously expecting some more customers. He shut the door silently, locked it. He suspected a shut door would be the sign to customers to retreat, the coast was not clear.
He wondered how she would adjust her commitments. Never mind, he thought. She can go back to whoring later. After I've done with her.
Sheila was waiting for her next lover when Stanley stepped into her bedroom. She had dressed again, if it could be called that, a transparent chiffon *dupatta* across her chest. She wore nothing else. He stared at her. Her breasts were covered by the filmy material, which hid nothing, but her belly and crotch were exposed to his gaze.
She saw him and went stone cold. He savoured the exquisite terror and shock on her face.
"Uncle Stanley!" she gasped, her eyes wide, her hands instantly flying to cover her crotch and breasts, her jaw dropped open.
"Yes," he rasped, and then mimicked her. "*Uncle Stanley*. You were expecting someone else, maybe? One of the servants?"
Her eyes shone with sudden tears. She seemed to quail visibly, and her body trembled.
"So. Business is *up*, is it? And *one for the road*, is it? Love the smell of your cunt on money, do you? *Always want it*, do you?"
His voice dripped a malevolent sarcasm. He crossed to her bureau and flung open her diary.
"And what's this, eh? An appointment diary? Let's see, what have we here for today? Aman ... Dilip ... then what, three more? Three? And six on Monday? And on Tuesday? When do you go to college, bitch?"
"Uncle, no!" she cried, pleading.
"Whore," he shouted, flinging the book across the room at her. It her on her arm and she gasped in sudden pain. "Harlot. *Slut!*"
"Uncle ... I ..."
"*Shut up!*" he roared. "*Shut up, you fucking bitch!* I saw
everything! Everything! Saw you with the servant and that other son of a bitch! Fucking them like a two-bit *whore*! And taking money! *In our own house!* *Whore!*"
There was nothing to say, nothing at all. Sheila bit her lip, and the tears coursed down her cheeks. She slid backwards, trying to get into a corner.
"You bitch," he snarled, his eyes cold and hard as flint with fury, his jaw clenched, his face flushed. "How dare you! How fucking dare you!"
He took a threatening step towards her and she cowered in a corner. He came closer. She moaned softly. He was within arm's reach now. He raised his arm, palm open. Sheila cried out and her hand went up over her face. Her *dupatta* dropped and she was naked before him, keening softly in fear.
The blow never came.
"I just love the smell of my cunt on money, don't you?" she murmured sexily.
"Wouldn't know, whore," Dilip laughed. "I never get it back!"
She grinned, stuck her tongue out at him. "Here, take this and keep it. Give me another. That way you can always smell me when you need to."
"Smart," Dilip grinned and took the note from her crotch, slipping another one in its place.
"Thanks."
"When do I see you again?"
"Next week. Monday or Tuesday."
"Same time?"
"Yeah. Okay with you?"
"Hang on." She rolled over and flipped open a diary on her bureau.
"Yeah. Monday's fine. Tuesday a little earlier, if you don't mind. Which one?"
"Monday, then. Monday's good. You need to keep a diary now?"
"Yes. Business is ... *up*, should I say?" she grinned wickedly.
"Can't have a riot at my door, can I? And you know I don't like to keep people waiting."
She got up and kissed him tenderly, caressing his crotch. He grinned at her, fondling her buttocks and breasts.
"Shall I suck you off once more? One for the road? On the house?"
He grinned. "Okay. Sounds good. If you want to."
"Baby," she sighed as she slipped to her knees, undoing his fly and taking out his cock and resting it on her lower lip. "This ... this I *always* want to do."
And Stanley watched as his teenage niece took the stranger's penis in her mouth and began sucking it deftly, jerking it in her fist so that it grew. He fucked her mouth quickly, gasping, his head flung back, his hand moving her head to and fro, his hips pumping back and forth while she sucked his cock till he came at last, moaning, his hips twitching, and the jizz flew from his cock and spurted into her hungry mouth and spattered her lovely face and breasts.
Stanley ducked back into the kitchen, his heart hammering, his body sheathed in sweat. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes. His loins were on fire and there was a deep ache in his balls. He wanted her. God, he wanted her so much so much it hurt.
He heard Dilip go out of the house. The front door was still open. She was obviously expecting some more customers. He shut the door silently, locked it. He suspected a shut door would be the sign to customers to retreat, the coast was not clear.
He wondered how she would adjust her commitments. Never mind, he thought. She can go back to whoring later. After I've done with her.
Sheila was waiting for her next lover when Stanley stepped into her bedroom. She had dressed again, if it could be called that, a transparent chiffon *dupatta* across her chest. She wore nothing else. He stared at her. Her breasts were covered by the filmy material, which hid nothing, but her belly and crotch were exposed to his gaze.
She saw him and went stone cold. He savoured the exquisite terror and shock on her face.
"Uncle Stanley!" she gasped, her eyes wide, her hands instantly flying to cover her crotch and breasts, her jaw dropped open.
"Yes," he rasped, and then mimicked her. "*Uncle Stanley*. You were expecting someone else, maybe? One of the servants?"
Her eyes shone with sudden tears. She seemed to quail visibly, and her body trembled.
"So. Business is *up*, is it? And *one for the road*, is it? Love the smell of your cunt on money, do you? *Always want it*, do you?"
His voice dripped a malevolent sarcasm. He crossed to her bureau and flung open her diary.
"And what's this, eh? An appointment diary? Let's see, what have we here for today? Aman ... Dilip ... then what, three more? Three? And six on Monday? And on Tuesday? When do you go to college, bitch?"
"Uncle, no!" she cried, pleading.
"Whore," he shouted, flinging the book across the room at her. It her on her arm and she gasped in sudden pain. "Harlot. *Slut!*"
"Uncle ... I ..."
"*Shut up!*" he roared. "*Shut up, you fucking bitch!* I saw
everything! Everything! Saw you with the servant and that other son of a bitch! Fucking them like a two-bit *whore*! And taking money! *In our own house!* *Whore!*"
There was nothing to say, nothing at all. Sheila bit her lip, and the tears coursed down her cheeks. She slid backwards, trying to get into a corner.
"You bitch," he snarled, his eyes cold and hard as flint with fury, his jaw clenched, his face flushed. "How dare you! How fucking dare you!"
He took a threatening step towards her and she cowered in a corner. He came closer. She moaned softly. He was within arm's reach now. He raised his arm, palm open. Sheila cried out and her hand went up over her face. Her *dupatta* dropped and she was naked before him, keening softly in fear.
The blow never came.
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