Adultery Namrata’s sexual appetite… (Complete)

[usaiha2]

One day Namrata told him to come alone on Sunday, as he required some extra coaching. She had chosen Sunday because it was an off for other students. He said he goes to gym in afternoon on Sunday and that he would come directly from there in the evening.

Namrata waited for him nervously. What pretense would she use to seduce him? Namrata poured out a couple of stiff measures of gins, knocked them neat, and lit a cigarette. As the alcohol climbed, she felt warm under the collar and her hesitation was gone.

There was a knock at the door. Namrata exhaled a lungful of smoke and ground the rest of the cigarette under her sandal before letting him in. She felt at least a decade younger as Namrata watched him clad only in running shorts and T-shirt. Kshitij, upon seeing that she was dressed in fancy salwar-suit with high-heeled sandals and nice make-up, hesitated.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he said, his eyes fixed on the jutting swell of her full rounded breasts, which were almost exposed through the low neckline of her salwar. "I didn't mean to come here while you were going out somewhere."

"Nonsense. Main tumhare hi bare nein sauch rahi thi, (I was just thinking about you)" Namrata said, smiling as sweetly as she could. Despite Kshitij's obvious wide-eyed wonderment, she was certain of the brassy glint of sexual interest in his eyes. "Kuch piyoge (would you like something to drink) Kshitij,…thumsup, 7up?"

Namrata could see that his penis had ballooned in his shorts... and was getting larger even as she looked at it. "Kya baat hai (What's the matter)? Tum aise dikh rahe ho jaise main tumhen kha jaaoongi, Kshitij (You look like I'm going to eat you, Kshitij)." Namrata said in a throaty, sultry voice. Deliberately she let her gaze fall once again to the crotch of his shorts, and Namrata couldn't help smiling as she saw Kshitij squirm in embarrassment under her blatant scrutiny of the long, hard bulge that was straining the material of his shorts. Namrata knew that he was in an agony of confusion and frustration. "maine poocha, Kshitij, kya baat hai," Namrata purred huskily. "kya tumhein mera salwar-suit acha nahin lagaa?"

The red-faced boy wordlessly shook his head. The torment he was experiencing apparent in his expression. "Kyon, Kshitij, Kya soch rahe ho jiski vajeh se yeh ho raha hai (Whatever are you thinking about to have that happen to you)?" " Namrata said in a mock reproof, pointing towards his bulge. 

"Miss, I…I…" he stuttered, "I'm sorry". "Mujhe bhi pata hai ki yeh kya hai… (I know what it is, too) 

she whispered. "tumhara lund bahut sakht ho gaya hai, hai na?" ("Your penis is very, very hard, isn't it?").

His expressions showed that he was too overwhelmed to speak, but Namrata didn't give him a chance to think very much. Instead, she pressed her lips tightly against his. They kissed passionately, her arms circling him and drawing him against the softness of her sensual curves. His chest was pressed against her full, yielding breasts, and the luscious globes flattened as Namrata held his body tightly against hers, her belly pressing against his.