Misc. Erotica The Goddess (COMPLETED) - By Novelist Casanova

[novelistcasanova]

My husband was out of station that week, away in Chennai for work. The house felt emptier without him, and the days stretched longer than usual. Perhaps that was why the low, restless heat in my body had become harder to push down.


When I walked to the river that afternoon, the familiar tightness in my chest was mixed with something I did not want to name. A quiet horniness sat low in my stomach and between my legs, waiting. Arjun saw me the moment I appeared on the path. He put down his tool at once and came toward me with those same heavy, unhurried steps. There was no surprise on his face. He looked as if he had been expecting me.
When he reached me, he closed his thick hand around my wrist and pulled me against his bare body. This time I did not wait for him to arrange me. I lifted both arms and wrapped them around his neck myself, drawing my body fully against his. My heavy breasts flattened against the dark, sweaty skin of his chest. The strong sour smell of his body surrounded me at once. The hard, thick shape of his cock pressed through his black shorts against my lower stomach and the soft upper mound of my pussy. Instead of stiffening, I let myself settle into the embrace more comfortably than before.
One of my hands rose almost without thinking and adjusted a few loose strands of my hair, tucking them behind my ear so nothing would come between our faces. The small gesture felt strangely intimate, almost domestic, and it surprised me even as I did it.
Arjun felt the change at once. He spoke near my ear, his rough voice low and close.
“Look at you… coming into my arms on your own today. Your husband is in Chennai, and your body already knows who it wants to feel.”
Then he lowered his mouth to mine, and I kissed his lips back with open, guilty hunger.
My lips moved against his lips without hesitation. When his thick tongue pushed inside my mouth and filled it with a rush of warm, sour, filthy saliva, I did not freeze or merely endure. I met his tongue with my own. I sucked on his tongue gently. I swallowed the bitter saliva he kept feeding me and kissed his mouth deeper, longer, more willingly than I ever had. The guilt was sharp and immediate — my husband was in Chennai, my home was empty, and here I was comfortably wrapped around the man who had beaten him and claimed me, returning every wet, disgusting movement of his mouth with my own lips and tongue. Yet the guilt only seemed to feed the heat spreading between my legs.

My panties grew wet quickly.
I felt the soft panel of my panties begin to cling to the clean-shaved lips of my pussy as the wetness spread. Each slow circle of Arjun’s hips rubbed the hard ridge of his cock against my lower stomach and sent another pulse of unwanted arousal straight down into my pussy. I kept my arms around his neck, pressed my heavy breasts more completely against his bare chest, and continued kissing his lips.
Arjun felt the growing intensity in the way I kissed him. His hands moved from my waist to my ass, grabbing both ass cheeks through the saree and pulling me harder against the thick shape of his cock inside his black shorts. He made low, rough sounds of pleasure into my mouth while he fed me more of his saliva. When he finally broke away from my lips, both of us were breathing heavily. A thin, glistening string of his saliva still connected his lower lip to my lower lip before it broke and ran down my chin.
He continued hugging me tightly against his bare body and looked into my eyes. His small eyes were darker than usual.

“Your body is softer than before,” he muttered.
“Tell me the truth… are your panties wet right now?”
My face burned. The wetness between my legs felt suddenly obvious and shameful.
“No,” I whispered, the lie coming out quickly.
Arjun’s mouth curved in a slow, knowing way. He pulled me even tighter against him so that the hard shape of his cock pressed more firmly against the soft mound of my pussy through our clothes.
“You are lying,” he said quietly.
“I can feel the heat coming from you. Your panties are wet. Your pussy is already open and ready under your panties. Stop pretending.”
The certainty in his voice made something inside me slip. My arms tightened around his neck almost against my will. My hips shifted slightly, pressing my wet panties more clearly against the hard ridge of his cock. The guilt and the horniness tangled so tightly that for a few dangerous seconds I felt myself beginning to lose control. My body wanted to stay exactly where it was. My body wanted more of his mouth, more of the grinding, more of the filthy heat.

Arjun felt the change. His voice dropped lower, rougher, and more tempting.
“That’s it… stop fighting it. Your husband is far away in Chennai. Your pussy is already wet for me. Why are you still holding back? Are you ready to give yourself to me today, Sudha?”
The question hit me like cold water.
Something deep inside me — the last thin thread of loyalty, of shame, of the woman I still wanted to be — suddenly woke up and pulled hard. The fog of heat cleared just enough for me to remember who I was, who was waiting for me at home in Chennai, and what it would mean if I said yes.
“No,” I said.
This time the word came out stronger, even though my voice still shook and my body was still pressed against his.
Arjun studied my face for a long moment. He did not look angry. He only nodded slowly, as if he had felt how close I had come and was satisfied with that knowledge alone.
“Not today,” he said quietly.
“But you were very close. I felt you lose control for a moment. Next time that moment will last longer.”
He continued hugging me for a few more seconds, letting me feel the full heat of his bare chest and the insistent hardness of his cock, before he finally loosened his arms and stepped back.
“Go home,” he said.
“Touch that wet pussy tonight if you need to. Think of me while you do it. When you are truly ready, you will not be able to say no anymore.”
I lowered my arms and fixed my saree with hands that were not entirely steady. As I walked away from him along the path, the filthy taste of his saliva stayed thick on my tongue, the wet cling of my panties against the clean-shaved lips of my pussy was impossible to ignore with every step, and the memory of how close I had come to losing control completely followed me all the way home.
I had said no.
But both of us knew how near I had come to saying something else.