Misc. Erotica Chaitali ki diary: Day 1 in Noida

[Mohit.Kumar]

Abdul watched the amber liquid slide down her throat, his gaze dropping to where her blouse gaped open with each swallow. "Arre, Rashid Bhai," he chuckled, his voice thick. "Dekho na Didi ka andaaz... jaise koi pehli baar pirahi ho." His rough hand landed heavily on Chaitali’s thick thigh, fingers digging into the yielding flesh above her knee. He squeezed, possessive and insistent. "Par hum toh jaante hain." Rashid snorted, jerking the steering wheel violently to avoid a pothole. The sudden lurch threw Chaitali sideways. Her heavy breast slammed against Abdul’s arm, the damp fabric of her blouse straining.

Abdul didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped his thick forearm around her waist, hauling her closer until her wide hip pressed flush against his thigh. The heat radiating from his body seeped through her thin saree. His rough palm slid up her back, fingers tangling in the limp cotton of her blouse. "Didi ko thand lag rahi hai?" he murmured, his beer-scented breath hot against her temple. His other hand dropped casually onto her thick thigh, fingers kneading the yielding flesh above her knee. Chaitali giggled, a breathy, drunken sound. She leaned into him, her head lolling against his shoulder. The coarse fabric of his vest scratched her cheek, but the solid warmth of him felt anchoring. Her own hand fluttered up, fingers clumsily tracing the sweat-dampened neckline of his vest. "Nahi," she slurred, "aapke paas... bahut garmi hai."

Rashid watched them in the rearview mirror, a smirk twisting his lips. He jerked the steering wheel sharply, sending the Omni careening over a pothole. The violent lurch threw Chaitali forward. Her heavy breasts slammed against Abdul’s chest, her mouth colliding clumsily with the stubbled curve of his jaw. Abdul seized the moment. His hand flew from her thigh to cup the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her damp hair. Before she could gasp, his mouth crashed down onto hers. It wasn’t gentle. His lips were chapped, insistent, forcing hers apart. The taste of stale beer, tobacco, and raw male musk flooded her senses. Chaitali whimpered, a muffled sound lost against his mouth. Her body went rigid for a heartbeat, then melted. Her thick arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. Her tongue met his thrusting invasion with clumsy, eager strokes, her hips grinding unconsciously against his leg. The cheap talc on her skin mingled with the sharp scent of his sweat.

Abdul broke the kiss, panting, a strand of saliva glistening between their lips. His eyes, dark and predatory, scanned her flushed, disheveled face. "Bangalan ki jaan," he growled, his voice thick. His rough hand slid down her trembling body, bypassing her waist to cup the heavy swell of her left breast through the sweat-soaked blouse. His thick fingers dug into the yielding flesh, kneading possessively. The thin polyester and cheap lace bra offered no resistance; he could feel the hard nub of her nipple pucker instantly against his palm. Chaitali arched her back with a choked moan, pushing her breast deeper into his grasp. The friction of the coarse lace against her sensitized skin sent sharp jolts of pleasure-pain radiating through her. Rashid’s low chuckle echoed from the front seat.

Abdul’s other hand joined the assault, roughly squeezing her right breast. He pulled the damp blouse taut, outlining the full, sagging weight beneath. His thumbs found her nipples through the flimsy layers, rubbing in hard, deliberate circles. Chaitali gasped, her head falling back against the vibrating metal door frame, her eyes fluttering shut. The dual pressure was overwhelming – a deep, aching fullness mixed with the sharp, exquisite torment of his calloused thumbs grinding against her hypersensitive peaks. Her hips rocked involuntarily against his thigh, seeking friction. The scent of her arousal, musky and sweet beneath the stale beer and male sweat, thickened the stifling air inside the van.

Abdul reclaimed her mouth with bruising force. His tongue plunged deeper this time, tasting the lingering beer and her own desperate whimpers. Chaitali met him with equal fervor, sucking greedily on his invading tongue, her hands clawing at the sweat-slicked muscles of his back beneath the thin vest. The van lurched violently over another pothole, throwing them together. Abdul used the momentum, pinning her against the seatback, his knee wedging between her thighs. His fingers abandoned her nipples momentarily to tear impatiently at the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse. One button popped open, cool air hit her exposed cleavage as the cheap fabric gaped open, revealing the sheer, sweat-darkened bra beneath. He groaned low in his throat at the sight, his mouth leaving hers to trail wet, biting kisses down her neck, toward the straining lace.

Another button surrendered under his rough fingers. Then another. The blouse fell open completely, baring Chaitali’s heavy breasts straining against the flimsy, floral-patterned bra. The damp lace clung obscenely, plastered to her dusky skin, outlining the dark, swollen areolas and the hard peaks of her nipples pushing desperately against the fabric. Abdul’s breath hitched. He buried his face between them, inhaling deeply the mingled scents of floral talc, female sweat, and her rising musk. His tongue snaked out, tracing the damp lace over her left nipple, the rough texture sending electric shocks through her. Chaitali cried out, arching violently, her fingers tangling in his coarse hair, pressing him harder against her aching flesh. The lace grew slicker, translucent where his saliva soaked it, clinging like a second skin to her brown nipple.