Adultery My Fiancee's Happiness

[sakurasan]

Chapter 14 Stay in Pune

While Kunal was still shooting Rohan and Isha outdoors, a bigshot client put him on a call with Aarav. Aarav asked him for a week in the United States.

The day after he took her virginity, his passport arrived by courier, a United States tourist visa stamped in it. He could have flown any day. His heart was still in that night, so he chose to go at once.

He called Aarav.

“I can come now,” Kunal said. “Passport is here. I am packed. First flight you can put me on.”

“Come,” Aarav said. “Whenever you land.”

The house was like the Playboy mansion. Aarav and Leela were Indian-origin Americans in their forties, a good-looking rich power couple. They put him in a big room in the guest quarters.

The next day Leela was alone. He started with her. When she got naked the shoot fell apart. He looked at the frames. They looked amateur. He kept the card. He blamed jet lag and asked for the next day.

The next day, before every pose, he closed his eyes and thought what he would do if it was Isha, then put Leela that way. The shutter started. She was impressed.

The next night Aarav joined. Kunal moved them. He had Leela sit on Aarav and fold until her shoulders were on the floor and only her hips were on him. Then he had Aarav stand and take her with one of her legs against his chest. Both were impressed. On Saturday Leela asked him to the night party.

Luxury cars kept coming up the drive. Guests of every race arrived in short tunics, leather belts, sandals, a lot of skin, and half masks. At the door they dropped their wedding bands into labelled trays and went in. The hall was packed.

Kunal wore the same tunic. He put on a mask and kept the camera.

Inside the music started. They danced, turning in hold, tunics lifting when they spun. Then the dancing got hotter. Mouths found mouths. Hands went under the short cloth. Some stayed in the hall. Some went into other rooms. Groups formed on the floor and against the walls. He had never shot that. When a mouth or a back looked like hers, his finger sat heavier on the shutter. He walked the house and he shot.




The next day he showed Leela the frames.

By Monday she came to the guest quarters.

“You are a hit,” she said. “People are asking for you. Are you interested.”

“Yes.”

Her assistant started taking his bookings. The jobs took him into the lifestyle. He shot couples who swapped spouses. He shot stag and vixen couples. He learned that what they did for sex did not undo the love they still had.

One afternoon Leela came onto him. Her mouth was on his before he had put the camera down. He kissed her back. She was already pulling him down the hall. In her room she opened his shirt and he pulled her dress off. Her breasts were in his hands. Her ass filled his palms. She got on the bed and opened her knees. He was excited. His mouth was on her. Then he stood to take her and his cock hung. He took it in his fist and stroked. It stayed heavy and soft. He put her hand on it. Same thing.

“It’s not an issue,” Leela said.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Isha had him. He had to break it before he went back to India.

The next week the word had already moved. Other parties in other cities called. He took every job. He kept moving. In each place he hit the pubs. Some nights he drank and went up alone. Twice a woman came to the room with him. Clothes came off. Mouth and hands, then his cock hung the way it had with Leela.

Work was still pouring in, and the visa still had days, when news came that grandfather was gone. He cancelled everything and took the next flight home.

All of that came back when he saw her wet clothes on the floor. His cock was pulsing again as he looked for her. He knocked. The door opened. His cock stood at once, a thick pole. It shoved the knot open. The towel hit the floor.

She was in the middle of his king-size bed. Her hair was still wet on the pillow. Her skin had already dried. She was naked. Her hands were folded over her chest, palms covering her breasts, the sides of them still showing, the nipples hidden under her own fingers. She had taken a condom from the drawer by the bed and laid the pouch on her cunt. It sat at the start of her pussy like a tiny thong, the foil covering the top of the slit. Her thighs were locked tight hiding the rest. Her eyes were closed.



With her eyes shut she felt him walk close. The mattress took his weight. Then water from his hair hit her skin as he came nearer. The pouch lifted off her. Cool air touched her shaved lips. He was looking straight at her cunt. Butterflies went through her belly.

The fight in her had started when Rohan said Kunal would take her to the tour desk. On the stairs down, the first night came back on every step. On the bike her nipples went hard as steel. Holding his solid frame pulled her forward, and her breasts crushed his back.

The real fight began when they came in wet and he walked out in just a towel and left her. She came out of her clothes with the towel still in her hair. Her cunt was loud. You promised today. We are desperate. The soreness after the first time had felt good for weeks, and we needed that again. Do not act like a proper girl. You already did it. What new wrong would this be. Her mind knew the cunt was a cat that had tasted the cream. It would keep coming for that taste. It made a deal. Once more, then this wrong thing is finished. This time we cannot risk it. She went to his room. If there is a condom, we take him. The drawer was full of gold pouches, all of them Magnum XXXL.

She threw the towel, lay down, and put one pouch on her pussy. She kept her eyes shut and hoped he would take her. Once more, then home, and the soreness would last for weeks.

Five minutes had gone since the pouch left her cunt. He moved on the bed. He was not touching her. She grew desperate. She opened her eyes a crack and went still.

He was kneeling by her head. The fat head of his cock was almost on her lips, shining with precum. The pouch was still in his hand. Her eyes came fully open.

“What are you doing.”

“Suck me.”

“Chee. Who does that.”

“A girl who really wants.”

“Please. Like last time.”

“Last time we did not have this.” He showed her the condom.

“We cannot risk. Please.”

Her plea almost took him. If he gave in now, she would always set the terms. He threw the condom off the cot.

“I like risks. Your choice.”

She needed the fuck. She looked at his eyes. He was not going to fold. She swallowed and opened her mouth. He moved in. Her lips kissed the head.

He swung a leg over her and brought the other with it. His knees sank into the mattress on both sides of her neck. His feet planted on the sides of her. He looked at her and let his hips come down. His ass sat on her breasts. Half his weight stayed in his knees. The rest flattened her tits under him, her nipples caught under the heavy cheeks. His balls rested on her breastbone. The hot rod pointed at her lips again.

She tried to lift her mouth to it. Her neck bent the wrong way. The head slipped on her chin.

He pulled the pillows in, bunched them, and shoved them under her head. He slid his legs under her shoulders. Her upper body rested on his thighs, and her mouth sat level with him. The cock lay on her lips. He looked down at her face, at the fat head shining on her mouth.

“What do you call this.”

“Pee pee.”

He kept the head on her lip and waited.

“Penis.”

“No. You call mine cock. Now say it.”

“Cock.”

“Again.”

“Cock.”

“And between your legs. That is your pussy. Say it.”

“Pussy.”

“My cock. Your pussy. That is how we talk. Say it that way.”

“Your cock. My pussy.”

“They call them pussy and cock because the cat eats the chicken. Is your pussy ready to eat its cock.”

“Yes.”

“Then marinate it. Open.”

She opened. He put the mushroom to her teeth and pushed. Her teeth hit the ridge. He hissed and pulled back, a red mark already on the head.

“Easy. Cover the teeth. Lips over. Hide them.”

She rolled her lips in over her teeth the way he said. He tried again. The fat head pressed her mouth wide until her jaw ached at the hinges. The mushroom squeezed in, and that was all she could take. The rest of him stood between her mouth and his belly, heavy, shining with her spit, more than both her hands could hide. Drool ran from the corner of her mouth onto the pillow. The head sat on her tongue, filling the whole small space. She held still and waited.

“Breathe from your nose. Keep the lips over the teeth. Put your tongue under the head, flat, and hold me there. I will not give you more than this mouth can take.”

She moved her tongue. It found the slit. A thin bead of precum leaked onto it, slicker than spit, saltier. She made a sound in her throat and tried to pull off. He kept his voice down, shifted his weight to his knees, found a nipple under his ass, and pinched.

“Stay. That is how a cock starts. Taste it. I have you.”

He eased back until the head rested on her lower lip, a clear bead still on the slit.

“Tell me what it is.”

“Salt,” she said. “Funny.”

“That’s it. Again. Open. Lips over the teeth, the way I showed you.”

He fed her the head. She took it. Her teeth almost caught him. He pinched the other nipple and said it close.

“Hide them. Look at me.”

She hid them. Her lips stretched around the ridge, shiny with spit. He looked down at that.

“Now marinate it. Keep it there. Let it sit in your mouth.”

She held him. Spit pooled around the head and ran from her lip. Her jaw shook on the thickness.

“Say my name. I want to hear you.”

“Ba-ath.”

“A little louder. I am here.”

“Kunal.” It came out around him, thick with spit.

“Do you still want the fuck.”

“Yeth.”

“Say it for me.”

“I want.”

He kept the head at her mouth. She made an O. He pushed the head through it and felt her lips seal on the ridge, her spit hot around the mushroom, her tongue under him as her mouth held the whole head. He drew back and her mouth pulled at him, spit stretching, then he put the head in again. The rest of him stayed out. She held the shaft in both hands and took the head as he gave it. Each time her lips caught the ridge he felt it in his groin. Spit ran to her cheek. His ass shifted on her breasts.

“Stay. I will do it. Only this much.”

When her jaw shook he held still, the head on her lip.

“Now your tongue. Make love to the cock. Swirl around it.”

She put her tongue on the head and moved it around the ridge, circling, then around the slit, then wider around the whole mushroom. He felt the trail of her spit. The head shone with her spit.

“How does it taste now.”

“Good.”

“Will you still say chee.”

“No.”

“Now put your tongue in my slit.”

She pushed her tongue into the small split at the tip. More precum leaked onto it. He breathed in.

“Hold the rest of the cock in your hands. Pull the skin back. Now soak it well.”

She stripped the skin down the shaft until the head stood fully out, tight and dark, and took it in. She worked it with her lips and tongue, spit running down him, the rest of him thick in her fists.

“Mild bites. Not like before. You can chew the head.”

She gave the mushroom small bites, then chewed it with her lips still covering most of the teeth. The chew almost made him come. He pulled back, eyes shut, and held still until he could put the head in her mouth again. He looked down at her and kept his voice down.

“That’s it. You are doing good.”

“Look at me.”

She looked up at him. His eyes were on her mouth.

“Say you want this.”

“I want this.” The words broke around the head.

“Your tongue. Fast on my slit.”

She put her tongue on the split at the tip and moved it there, flicking. He breathed in. She went faster. The slit leaked on her tongue.

“Keep going. Don’t stop. The cock loves you.”

More precum came. She kept the tongue on it.

“That is love juice, not piss. Keep going.”

She did. He held her hair.

“Fuck my slit with your tongue.”

She pushed the tip into the split and fucked it, and her palms twisted the shaft, turning the skin around him. He felt both at once. His thighs went hard under her shoulders. He tried to hold still. The cock jumped in her hands. He groaned, low. “Ah.” The first thick pulse hit her tongue, heavier than the salt that had come before. She gagged and shoved at his hips, throat shut, trying to get out from under him without swallowing. He held her head and kept the mushroom in her mouth and came the rest of the way into her. Her mouth filled. She twisted and broke his grip. It spilled from her lips down her chin onto her breasts. She ran for the bathroom with what was left.

She spat into the basin and rinsed her mouth. She soaped her face, both breasts, and every place his cum had landed, and rinsed. She came out angry, her face hot, and went straight to the bed.




He lay on his back. His cock lay spent on his belly. She looked at it, then at him.

“Dirty fellow. Why in my mouth.”

She snatched a pillow off the cot and brought it down on the spent cock. The cloth hit the shaft. He jerked. She hit it again.




“You only swallowed.”

“You held my head.”

“Good girls eat cock. Don’t beat it.”

She landed another beat, square on him. “This is bad cock spitting bad things in my mouth.”

He caught the pillow and held it.

“That is love juice. Good for the skin. Makes you glow.”

She pulled the pillow out of his hands and beat him with it again. “What currently glows is enough.”

He pulled the pillow back, threw it off the cot, and caught her around the waist. He hugged her in, turned her, and sat her on his stomach, facing his legs. Her ass landed on him. Her knees went to the bed on both sides of his hips. His spent cock lay in front of her.

“Ok. Beat it. But beat with your hand.”

She slapped it with her open palm, and it jumped and dropped. She slapped it again, harder, and he sucked air through his teeth. The next hit landed on a shaft that had started to fill, and it stayed up longer. Her palm stung as she hit it again, and it was thicker. She kept looking at it, her fingers wrapping on the way down instead of leaving, and she held him. She went to hit it and pulled the skin instead, stripping it down until the head came free. Her fist ran to the root and back up over the head. She did it again, slower, both hands around him, working the skin, until an iron rod twitched in her fists.

He watched her hands on him and smiled. Juice ran from her pussy and collected in his belly button.

“So. Shall we start.”

“You are ready.”

“Yes. Now fetch the condom.”