<![CDATA[Xossipy - English Sex Stories]]>

<![CDATA[Xossipy - English Sex Stories]]> https://xossipy.com/ Wed, 03 Jun 2026 13:46:06 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[The secrets of my life (unfiltered)]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73924.html Wed, 03 Jun 2026 05:26:50 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73924.html
Which actress will be suit for a Andhra Pradesh btech 3 rd college student comment ur suggestions]]>
Which actress will be suit for a Andhra Pradesh btech 3 rd college student comment ur suggestions]]> <![CDATA[First time lesbians]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73909.html Mon, 01 Jun 2026 22:59:01 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73909.html Nikki stood there like a dripping, perverted bitch in heat, her thick mature Indian cunt throbbing violently under the towel as she watched the tight-bodied 19-year-old beauty finish showering. The girl looked exactly like a fresh-faced, cock-teasing Rashmika Mandanna mixed with Janhvi Kapoor’s slutty little sister — perky, heavy teenage tits with fat brown nipples begging to be chewed, and a round, jiggling ass that flexed perfectly as she bent over to dry her feet. Her smooth, shaved pussy lips were glistening with water, slightly parted, showing the slick pink inner folds already looking puffy and ready to be tongue-fucked. Nikki’s own sloppy mature cunt clenched hard, leaking thick strings of creamy white pussy juice down her inner thighs in sticky rivulets, soaking the floor beneath her.
She knew she shouldn’t be staring like a desperate lesbian whore, but ever since she turned 30, Nikki had become a full-blown filthy cunt-addicted dyke. She craved soft, sweaty Indian tits, dripping wet clits, and the nasty smell of young aroused pussy. Just the other day at the supermarket she nearly crashed her cart into a tower of cans because a busty red-tinted hair slut who looked like a horny version of Disha Patani was bending over the freezer section. Those massive, heavy udders were barely contained in a tight white t-shirt, fat nipples rock-hard and poking obscenely through the fabric, sweat making her cleavage shine. Nikki had stood there like a starving cum-guzzling lesbian, imagining burying her face between those fat tits, slobbering and sucking on them while brutally finger-fucking her own leaking cunt until she squirted all over the supermarket floor like a broken whore.
Most of Nikki’s dates with stunning Indian actresses ended the same filthy way — sweaty, nasty, pussy-juice-drenched sapphic orgies. She had devoured Kiara Advani’s dripping cunt on their last movie date, tongue-fucking her tight hole until Kiara screamed and hosed her face with hot girl-cum. She had sucked Deepika Padukone’s swollen clit while Alia Bhatt sat on her face, grinding her soaked pussy all over Nikki’s tongue until both of them flooded her mouth. She even let Janhvi Kapoor and Ananya Panday take turns spitting in her mouth and calling her a pathetic mature cunt-slut while they made her cum hands-free just from sucking their toes and licking their sweaty asses.
Right now, though, Nikki’s eyes were glued to this young Melanie, who was getting dressed right next to her. The girl’s perky tits bounced as she pulled on her bra, and her tight yoga pants were already showing a visible wet spot right at her crotch.
“Can I help you with something?” the young beauty asked, catching Nikki’s hungry stare.
Nikki jolted but didn’t stop leaking. “I’m so sorry… I was just spacing out,” she lied weakly, her voice thick with lust.
Melanie leaned in closer, her full, heavy breasts deliberately brushing against Nikki’s shoulder, hard nipples dragging across her skin like little cocks begging to be sucked. “It seemed like you were staring at me… in a sexual way,” she whispered, blushing but clearly excited. Her own nipples were stiff as diamonds, and Nikki could smell the sweet, musky scent of the girl’s young pussy starting to drip.
Nikki’s cunt spasmed so hard more thick cream ran down her legs. Fuck it. “I’m Nikki Best,” she said, voice husky, eyes dropping straight to those perky tits again.
“I’m Melanie… but everyone calls me by my modeling name, inspired by hot sluts like Ananya Panday,” the girl replied, biting her lip.
The sexual tension was so thick you could smell their combined cunt juice in the air. Melanie’s yoga pants were getting darker at the crotch as her young pussy drooled.
“Would you like to get coffee… or something?” Melanie asked, voice breathy. “Because standing here with my pussy soaking through my pants while you’re half naked with your big milf tits almost falling out is making me really fucking horny.”
Nikki laughed, her own cunt clenching. “Yes. Fuck yes. Let’s get out of here before I bend you over right in this locker room and eat that tight teenage cunt until you squirt all over my face.”]]> Nikki stood there like a dripping, perverted bitch in heat, her thick mature Indian cunt throbbing violently under the towel as she watched the tight-bodied 19-year-old beauty finish showering. The girl looked exactly like a fresh-faced, cock-teasing Rashmika Mandanna mixed with Janhvi Kapoor’s slutty little sister — perky, heavy teenage tits with fat brown nipples begging to be chewed, and a round, jiggling ass that flexed perfectly as she bent over to dry her feet. Her smooth, shaved pussy lips were glistening with water, slightly parted, showing the slick pink inner folds already looking puffy and ready to be tongue-fucked. Nikki’s own sloppy mature cunt clenched hard, leaking thick strings of creamy white pussy juice down her inner thighs in sticky rivulets, soaking the floor beneath her.
She knew she shouldn’t be staring like a desperate lesbian whore, but ever since she turned 30, Nikki had become a full-blown filthy cunt-addicted dyke. She craved soft, sweaty Indian tits, dripping wet clits, and the nasty smell of young aroused pussy. Just the other day at the supermarket she nearly crashed her cart into a tower of cans because a busty red-tinted hair slut who looked like a horny version of Disha Patani was bending over the freezer section. Those massive, heavy udders were barely contained in a tight white t-shirt, fat nipples rock-hard and poking obscenely through the fabric, sweat making her cleavage shine. Nikki had stood there like a starving cum-guzzling lesbian, imagining burying her face between those fat tits, slobbering and sucking on them while brutally finger-fucking her own leaking cunt until she squirted all over the supermarket floor like a broken whore.
Most of Nikki’s dates with stunning Indian actresses ended the same filthy way — sweaty, nasty, pussy-juice-drenched sapphic orgies. She had devoured Kiara Advani’s dripping cunt on their last movie date, tongue-fucking her tight hole until Kiara screamed and hosed her face with hot girl-cum. She had sucked Deepika Padukone’s swollen clit while Alia Bhatt sat on her face, grinding her soaked pussy all over Nikki’s tongue until both of them flooded her mouth. She even let Janhvi Kapoor and Ananya Panday take turns spitting in her mouth and calling her a pathetic mature cunt-slut while they made her cum hands-free just from sucking their toes and licking their sweaty asses.
Right now, though, Nikki’s eyes were glued to this young Melanie, who was getting dressed right next to her. The girl’s perky tits bounced as she pulled on her bra, and her tight yoga pants were already showing a visible wet spot right at her crotch.
“Can I help you with something?” the young beauty asked, catching Nikki’s hungry stare.
Nikki jolted but didn’t stop leaking. “I’m so sorry… I was just spacing out,” she lied weakly, her voice thick with lust.
Melanie leaned in closer, her full, heavy breasts deliberately brushing against Nikki’s shoulder, hard nipples dragging across her skin like little cocks begging to be sucked. “It seemed like you were staring at me… in a sexual way,” she whispered, blushing but clearly excited. Her own nipples were stiff as diamonds, and Nikki could smell the sweet, musky scent of the girl’s young pussy starting to drip.
Nikki’s cunt spasmed so hard more thick cream ran down her legs. Fuck it. “I’m Nikki Best,” she said, voice husky, eyes dropping straight to those perky tits again.
“I’m Melanie… but everyone calls me by my modeling name, inspired by hot sluts like Ananya Panday,” the girl replied, biting her lip.
The sexual tension was so thick you could smell their combined cunt juice in the air. Melanie’s yoga pants were getting darker at the crotch as her young pussy drooled.
“Would you like to get coffee… or something?” Melanie asked, voice breathy. “Because standing here with my pussy soaking through my pants while you’re half naked with your big milf tits almost falling out is making me really fucking horny.”
Nikki laughed, her own cunt clenching. “Yes. Fuck yes. Let’s get out of here before I bend you over right in this locker room and eat that tight teenage cunt until you squirt all over my face.”]]> <![CDATA[Beautiful Family]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73892.html Sun, 31 May 2026 18:52:08 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73892.html I grew up as the second child, but the oldest boy. My older sister was a
bit careless and irresponsible, even for a kid, so I was usually left in
charge when my parents were away, which was often because they had to
work multiple jobs. Laura was the eldest and a year older than I. Benny
was a year younger than I, and Sophie was a year younger than him.

Laura and I hit puberty around the same time and we both started
developing. Laura was 5'4", had a cute face, green eyes like mine,
with an hourglass-shaped body, breasts the size of gbangfruits, a thin
waist, and a nice, toned butt that stuck out. When her breasts came in, I
couldn't help but stare. She caught me looking a few times and would just
wink, which made me blush.

I felt awkward growing into my body. I grew over a foot that year, my
stomach flattened, muscles developed, and I grew a nice bubblebutt from
years of swimming and running. My dick was always hard and I felt like
everyone could see; as it turned out, they could because I carried nearly
8" and was thick. My Mom even commented about the size one night when she
and Dad were in their room. I lived in the basement and my room was
beneath theirs; we shared a duct so their voices could be easily heard in
my room. I started noticing girls and they noticed me, but I also caught
myself checking out the other boys on my swim team in their Speedos. I
also noticed adults checking me out and at swimming meets, my ass got
constantly groped and touched.

Looking back, I should've flaunted myself around, but I felt weird and I
was shy outside of the house.

I loved to swim, though, and we had a large pool in the backyard. I'd
spend most of my time out there.

One morning, I came home from a long run, threw on a Speedo, and started
doing laps. I had finished with my first mile when the sliding glass door
opened and my older sister came running out with a group of her
girlfriends and some high college boys. `Time for me to go,' I thought.
Most of her friends were just as hot as she was, but they were also
annoying as all hell.

I couldn't help but check them out as I walked back to the house. Laura's
fair skin contrasted against her black string thong bikini. My cock was
semi-hard and bulged in my swimsuit. I could feel them staring at me and
I started to get hard, so I walked quickly into the house.

Sometime later, I was in the kitchen, still in my Speedo only, when I
looked outside. Two girls were in the hot tub kissing and the other girls
had paired off with one of the high college boys and were making out.
Laura and the oldest boy were standing against a tree, kissing, and his
hands were sliding down from her back to her pert butt.

I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard Laura yell. I stepped outside to
see that her top had been untied and her breast spilled out, and the
eldest boy's hand was shoved down the front of her bikini bottom.

"Stop, I said!" She yelled, "Let go of me!"

"It's okay, baby," he said, overpowering her, "Just go with it."

"HEY!" I yelled.

"Mind your own business, pipsqueak," he said, not even looking at me, but
he had kept an iron grip and held my sister tight.

He didn't see or hear me until one of his friends yelled out a warning.
He turned his head just in time for my fist to impact his cheek. We went
to the ground, and I just started pummeling him in the face. It took two
of his boys to pull me off, but when they did, I kicked him in the nuts
as hard as I could.

Laura, in the meantime, had run into the house crying. When I was dragged
off the boy who had attacked her, I told everyone else to go home or I
was calling the cops. They grabbed their clothes and ran for the side
gate.

I found Laura sitting on her bed crying; her breasts were fully exposed,
but she didn't seem to care that I could see them.

"I thought he liked me," she said, sobbing into her hands, "But he let it
slip that he had a bet with his friends about who could get my
virginity."

I just held her as she cried. Then I told her to take a nap and rest, but
when I tried to leave, she asked me to stay. I climbed into bed behind
her, and she pulled my arm around and hugged it tight to her chest. She
then backed up into me so that our bodies were touching. My cock was
immediately hard as she rubbed her thong-clad ass against my bulging
Speedo. Soon she was breathing softly. As I got out of bed, I let my hand
slide over her full breast. I could feel her nipple was as hard as a
diamond.

Laura and I were the only ones home this weekend, as Mom and Dad had
taken Benny and Sophie with them to a work conference Dad had in Las
Vegas. I cooked us dinner, then put her food onto a tray and took it to
her room. She sat up in bed and I got another good glimpse of her breasts
as I set down the tray. She noticed me staring and just smirked. I left
her to eat and went to my parents' room to use the Master shower.

I pulled my Speedo down and my 8" cock sprang out. I turned the shower on
full blast and let the hot water clean my smooth body. Being a swimmer, I
kept myself completely hairless and the water felt great caressing my
teen body. I closed my eyes, played with my nipples, and stroked my meat.

* * *

Laura stood at the doorway watching her brother shower. `His cock is
massive!' Laura thought to herself. She felt a tingling in her vagina.
She stuck her fingers down the front of her bikini bottoms and found them
soaking wet. Her little brother David almost caught her because she was
enjoying the feeling of rubbing her virgin pussy lips, and she didn't
notice he had turned the shower off. Luckily, the lights were off and she
was able to slip away. She hid just within the doorway of her bedroom and
waited for David to pass by and head to his room in the basement of the
house.

* * *

I was lying in bed, stroking my hard cock, when I heard the stairs
creaking. I covered myself and turned on my side away from my doorway.

"David?" I heard Laura whisper, "Are you awake?"

When I didn't answer, she pulled my blankets down. When she grasped my
cock I let out an involuntary gasp and turned towards her. She straddled
me and I felt her pussy lips resting on my rigid cock. She was wet down
there, I could feel it, and it made my dick slick. Before I could say
anything, she was lying on me and kissed me fully on the mouth. My mouth
opened to hers and our tongues wrestled with each other and explored each
other's mouths.

"You were so good to me today," she said, grinding herself against my
cock, covering it in her sweet juices, "It's my turn to be good to you."

Before I knew what was happening, she crawled backward until she knelt
between my legs and she firmly gripped my aching cock. She started slowly
stroking it with both hands as she couldn't get her fingers around it
with just one hand.

"It's SO big," Laura cooed and licked the length of my shaft.

She put the head of my cock into her mouth and sucked on it like it was a
piece of candy. I tried to shove more of it into her mouth, but could not
fit it. It was so dark in my room, all I could do was listen as she
gurgled and choked a little bit on my girth. When she had first started
sucking on my cock, I had just lain back and moaned.

'My God,' I thought, 'My sister is naked with me and sucking my dick.'
Then another one shot into my brain, "Holy fuck! My sister is sucking my
dick! What if we're caught?! What if Mom and Dad find out?!'

"Mmmmmm," I moaned in such pleasure that it overwhelmed my mind,
"Ooohhh...oh - oh God!"

My body tensed and I sent rope after rope of semen into my sister's
mouth. It caught her by surprise and most of it dribbled out of her mouth
onto me or my bed. She swallowed what she could, and she wiped off her
face with my sheet.

Laura straddled my stomach and she let me play with her boobs. They were
perfectly shaped and while I played with one, I sucked on the other. Her
pink nipples were rock hard. Laura moaned and ran her fingers through my
hair.

"That's it, lil' brother," she moaned, "Suck on my titties."

While I continued to suckle her, my hands roamed around to her backside
and grasped onto her tight butt, massaging it. After a few more minutes,
she pulled away and crouched over my cock. I was leaking pretty heavily,
and she was soaking wet. When she guided my cock to her virgin pussy
lips, I was almost ready to blow again. When my cockhead penetrated her
for the first time, she let out a whimper and a yelp.

"You're-you're so big," she groaned, and I could feel her body trembling.

She could only take about half of my cock into her pussy. She held
herself there for a moment, just getting used to the size of my cock. She
then slowly raised and lowered herself on my cock, moaning the entire
time. By the fifth time she came down on my dick, I ejaculated and blew a
large load into my sister.

We lay there in bed, cuddling, and she lay on me with her head on my
chest. I was just about to fall asleep when it hit me. I expressed my
fear of getting her pregnant and she said not to worry about that. I
wanted to say more, but she said she had it taken care of and kissed me.
I fell asleep holding my sister in my arms.]]> I grew up as the second child, but the oldest boy. My older sister was a
bit careless and irresponsible, even for a kid, so I was usually left in
charge when my parents were away, which was often because they had to
work multiple jobs. Laura was the eldest and a year older than I. Benny
was a year younger than I, and Sophie was a year younger than him.

Laura and I hit puberty around the same time and we both started
developing. Laura was 5'4", had a cute face, green eyes like mine,
with an hourglass-shaped body, breasts the size of gbangfruits, a thin
waist, and a nice, toned butt that stuck out. When her breasts came in, I
couldn't help but stare. She caught me looking a few times and would just
wink, which made me blush.

I felt awkward growing into my body. I grew over a foot that year, my
stomach flattened, muscles developed, and I grew a nice bubblebutt from
years of swimming and running. My dick was always hard and I felt like
everyone could see; as it turned out, they could because I carried nearly
8" and was thick. My Mom even commented about the size one night when she
and Dad were in their room. I lived in the basement and my room was
beneath theirs; we shared a duct so their voices could be easily heard in
my room. I started noticing girls and they noticed me, but I also caught
myself checking out the other boys on my swim team in their Speedos. I
also noticed adults checking me out and at swimming meets, my ass got
constantly groped and touched.

Looking back, I should've flaunted myself around, but I felt weird and I
was shy outside of the house.

I loved to swim, though, and we had a large pool in the backyard. I'd
spend most of my time out there.

One morning, I came home from a long run, threw on a Speedo, and started
doing laps. I had finished with my first mile when the sliding glass door
opened and my older sister came running out with a group of her
girlfriends and some high college boys. `Time for me to go,' I thought.
Most of her friends were just as hot as she was, but they were also
annoying as all hell.

I couldn't help but check them out as I walked back to the house. Laura's
fair skin contrasted against her black string thong bikini. My cock was
semi-hard and bulged in my swimsuit. I could feel them staring at me and
I started to get hard, so I walked quickly into the house.

Sometime later, I was in the kitchen, still in my Speedo only, when I
looked outside. Two girls were in the hot tub kissing and the other girls
had paired off with one of the high college boys and were making out.
Laura and the oldest boy were standing against a tree, kissing, and his
hands were sliding down from her back to her pert butt.

I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard Laura yell. I stepped outside to
see that her top had been untied and her breast spilled out, and the
eldest boy's hand was shoved down the front of her bikini bottom.

"Stop, I said!" She yelled, "Let go of me!"

"It's okay, baby," he said, overpowering her, "Just go with it."

"HEY!" I yelled.

"Mind your own business, pipsqueak," he said, not even looking at me, but
he had kept an iron grip and held my sister tight.

He didn't see or hear me until one of his friends yelled out a warning.
He turned his head just in time for my fist to impact his cheek. We went
to the ground, and I just started pummeling him in the face. It took two
of his boys to pull me off, but when they did, I kicked him in the nuts
as hard as I could.

Laura, in the meantime, had run into the house crying. When I was dragged
off the boy who had attacked her, I told everyone else to go home or I
was calling the cops. They grabbed their clothes and ran for the side
gate.

I found Laura sitting on her bed crying; her breasts were fully exposed,
but she didn't seem to care that I could see them.

"I thought he liked me," she said, sobbing into her hands, "But he let it
slip that he had a bet with his friends about who could get my
virginity."

I just held her as she cried. Then I told her to take a nap and rest, but
when I tried to leave, she asked me to stay. I climbed into bed behind
her, and she pulled my arm around and hugged it tight to her chest. She
then backed up into me so that our bodies were touching. My cock was
immediately hard as she rubbed her thong-clad ass against my bulging
Speedo. Soon she was breathing softly. As I got out of bed, I let my hand
slide over her full breast. I could feel her nipple was as hard as a
diamond.

Laura and I were the only ones home this weekend, as Mom and Dad had
taken Benny and Sophie with them to a work conference Dad had in Las
Vegas. I cooked us dinner, then put her food onto a tray and took it to
her room. She sat up in bed and I got another good glimpse of her breasts
as I set down the tray. She noticed me staring and just smirked. I left
her to eat and went to my parents' room to use the Master shower.

I pulled my Speedo down and my 8" cock sprang out. I turned the shower on
full blast and let the hot water clean my smooth body. Being a swimmer, I
kept myself completely hairless and the water felt great caressing my
teen body. I closed my eyes, played with my nipples, and stroked my meat.

* * *

Laura stood at the doorway watching her brother shower. `His cock is
massive!' Laura thought to herself. She felt a tingling in her vagina.
She stuck her fingers down the front of her bikini bottoms and found them
soaking wet. Her little brother David almost caught her because she was
enjoying the feeling of rubbing her virgin pussy lips, and she didn't
notice he had turned the shower off. Luckily, the lights were off and she
was able to slip away. She hid just within the doorway of her bedroom and
waited for David to pass by and head to his room in the basement of the
house.

* * *

I was lying in bed, stroking my hard cock, when I heard the stairs
creaking. I covered myself and turned on my side away from my doorway.

"David?" I heard Laura whisper, "Are you awake?"

When I didn't answer, she pulled my blankets down. When she grasped my
cock I let out an involuntary gasp and turned towards her. She straddled
me and I felt her pussy lips resting on my rigid cock. She was wet down
there, I could feel it, and it made my dick slick. Before I could say
anything, she was lying on me and kissed me fully on the mouth. My mouth
opened to hers and our tongues wrestled with each other and explored each
other's mouths.

"You were so good to me today," she said, grinding herself against my
cock, covering it in her sweet juices, "It's my turn to be good to you."

Before I knew what was happening, she crawled backward until she knelt
between my legs and she firmly gripped my aching cock. She started slowly
stroking it with both hands as she couldn't get her fingers around it
with just one hand.

"It's SO big," Laura cooed and licked the length of my shaft.

She put the head of my cock into her mouth and sucked on it like it was a
piece of candy. I tried to shove more of it into her mouth, but could not
fit it. It was so dark in my room, all I could do was listen as she
gurgled and choked a little bit on my girth. When she had first started
sucking on my cock, I had just lain back and moaned.

'My God,' I thought, 'My sister is naked with me and sucking my dick.'
Then another one shot into my brain, "Holy fuck! My sister is sucking my
dick! What if we're caught?! What if Mom and Dad find out?!'

"Mmmmmm," I moaned in such pleasure that it overwhelmed my mind,
"Ooohhh...oh - oh God!"

My body tensed and I sent rope after rope of semen into my sister's
mouth. It caught her by surprise and most of it dribbled out of her mouth
onto me or my bed. She swallowed what she could, and she wiped off her
face with my sheet.

Laura straddled my stomach and she let me play with her boobs. They were
perfectly shaped and while I played with one, I sucked on the other. Her
pink nipples were rock hard. Laura moaned and ran her fingers through my
hair.

"That's it, lil' brother," she moaned, "Suck on my titties."

While I continued to suckle her, my hands roamed around to her backside
and grasped onto her tight butt, massaging it. After a few more minutes,
she pulled away and crouched over my cock. I was leaking pretty heavily,
and she was soaking wet. When she guided my cock to her virgin pussy
lips, I was almost ready to blow again. When my cockhead penetrated her
for the first time, she let out a whimper and a yelp.

"You're-you're so big," she groaned, and I could feel her body trembling.

She could only take about half of my cock into her pussy. She held
herself there for a moment, just getting used to the size of my cock. She
then slowly raised and lowered herself on my cock, moaning the entire
time. By the fifth time she came down on my dick, I ejaculated and blew a
large load into my sister.

We lay there in bed, cuddling, and she lay on me with her head on my
chest. I was just about to fall asleep when it hit me. I expressed my
fear of getting her pregnant and she said not to worry about that. I
wanted to say more, but she said she had it taken care of and kissed me.
I fell asleep holding my sister in my arms.]]> <![CDATA[Shanghai Detour - Meeting a young Chinese couple in Shanghai changed our lives]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73874.html Fri, 29 May 2026 23:05:34 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73874.html The Detour

The announcement crackled through the cabin speakers in Mandarin first, then English. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Shanghai Pudong International Airport."

I stretched in my seat, feeling the stiffness in my lower back from the eleven-hour flight. Bloody hell, I was getting too old for these marathon journeys. At fifty, my body didn't bounce back from long-haul flights the way it used to. Still, needs must when the devil drives, as my old dad used to say. This Sydney deal was too important to pass up, even if it meant flying a route I'd never taken before.
Normally, I'd have been sipping champagne in the Emirates lounge in Dubai right about now, or perhaps enjoying the legendary service on Qatar Airways. But with the Middle East situation being what it was, my company's travel department had vetoed both options. "Too risky," they'd said. So here I was, routing through China instead, facing a twenty-two-hour layover in Shanghai.

Twenty-two bloody hours.

At least they'd arranged a complimentary hotel near the airport. Small mercies and all that.

The plane touched down with barely a bump—I had to give the Chinese pilots credit for that—and soon I was trudging through the seemingly endless corridors of Pudong Airport, following the signs for transit passengers. The terminal was massive, all gleaming white surfaces and soaring ceilings, but also oddly quiet for such a large airport. Perhaps it was the time of day, or maybe the reduced international traffic.
I found the hotel transfer desk easily enough, tucked away in a corner near the baggage claim area. A young woman in a crisp uniform sat behind the counter, her face professionally pleasant but distant. I approached with my booking confirmation pulled up on my phone.

"Hello, I've got a complimentary hotel booking for transit passengers," I said, offering what I hoped was a friendly smile. "The confirmation number is—"

She looked at me blankly.

I tried again, speaking more slowly. "Hotel. Transit hotel. I have a booking."

Still nothing. She reached for her mobile phone and opened what appeared to be a translation app, gesturing for me to speak into it.

I hadn't anticipated a complete language barrier. Stupid of me, really. Why would I assume everyone in China spoke English? I leaned toward her phone and repeated myself, watching as Chinese characters appeared on her screen. She nodded, understanding dawning on her face, and began typing something back.

This was going to be a long twenty-two hours.

"Excuse me, do you need some help?"

I turned to find a young couple standing behind me—Chinese, probably in their late twenties, both dressed casually but stylishly. The man was tall, easily six foot two, with the kind of lean, muscular build that spoke of regular gym sessions. Handsome bloke, with sharp features and confident posture. But it was the woman who immediately caught my attention.

Bloody hell.

She was stunning. Not just pretty—genuinely, stop-you-in-your-tracks gorgeous. Long black hair that fell past her shoulders, delicate features with high cheekbones, and a figure that her tight-fitting clothes did absolutely nothing to hide. She wore tiny denim shorts that showed off impossibly long, toned legs, and a snug white top that revealed a generous amount of cleavage. Her skin was flawless, that perfect golden tone that seemed to glow under the airport's fluorescent lights.

I felt my cock stir involuntarily and had to force myself to look at her face instead of her body. She was young enough to be my daughter—probably only a couple of years older than my eldest, actually. Down, boy, I told myself firmly.

"Yes, actually," I said, grateful for the interruption. "I'm trying to sort out my hotel transfer, but we're having a bit of a communication issue."

"No problem," the man said with a warm smile. His English was excellent, with only the faintest accent. "We're also getting the transit hotel. Let me help translate."

What followed was a flurry of rapid Mandarin between the three of them, with the young man gesturing at my phone and explaining my situation. The woman behind the desk nodded enthusiastically, her fingers flying across her keyboard. Within minutes, everything was sorted—my booking confirmed, my shuttle bus ticket printed, and directions provided.

"Thank you so much," I said, genuinely relieved. "I would have been completely lost without you."
"It's no trouble at all," the woman said, her English also fluent but with a more pronounced accent than her companion's. Her voice was soft and melodic, with a playful lilt to it. "We're happy to help. I'm Lin, by the way, and this is my husband, Wei."

"James," I said, shaking hands with both of them. Wei's grip was firm and confident. Lin's hand was small and soft in mine, and she held the contact just a fraction longer than necessary, her dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

"Are you heading to the same hotel?" Wei asked.

"I believe so, yes. The shuttle leaves in about twenty minutes."

"Perfect! We'll ride together," Lin said brightly. "That way if you have any trouble with the driver or at check-in, we can help."

I could have kissed them both. Well, kissed Lin, anyway, and not just on the cheek. Stop it, James, I chided myself. You're old enough to be her father.

But as we walked toward the shuttle bus pickup point, I couldn't help but notice the way Lin moved—a natural, unconscious sensuality in her walk, her hips swaying gently, her long legs carrying her with a dancer's grace. Wei seemed completely unbothered by my obvious appreciation, walking on her other side with his hand resting casually on the small of her back.

The shuttle bus was nearly empty, just us and an elderly Chinese couple who sat at the front. We took seats near the back, with Lin sliding into the middle seat between Wei and me. The bus was warm, and I caught the scent of her perfume—something floral and expensive, with an underlying note of vanilla.
"So, James, what brings you to Shanghai?" Wei asked as the bus pulled away from the terminal.

"Just passing through, unfortunately. I'm heading to Sydney for business. Normally I'd route through Dubai or Doha, but with everything going on in the Middle East, the company decided it was safer to go this way."

"What kind of business?" Lin asked, shifting slightly in her seat. Her bare thigh pressed against mine, warm and smooth. I tried not to react.

"Mergers and acquisitions," I said. "Basically, I help companies buy and sell other companies. Not terribly exciting, I'm afraid, but it pays the bills."

"Oh, you must be quite wealthy then," Lin said with a mischievous smile. There was something cheeky in her tone, almost flirtatious.

I laughed. "I do alright. Can't complain."

"Where are you from?" Wei asked. "Your accent—London?"

"Near London, yes. Just outside, actually. A town called Weybridge, in Surrey. Do you know it?"

Lin's eyes widened. "We live near London too! In Ealing. We're just visiting family in Nanjing—that's where we're flying tomorrow."

"No kidding? Small world." I was genuinely surprised. "What brings you to the UK?"

"We work in the UK," Wei said. "I'm in property—estate agency. Hoping to start my own business soon."

"And you?" I asked Lin, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the way her top had shifted, revealing even more of her cleavage.

"I work in... hospitality," she said with a slight smile, and something in her tone made me think there was more to that story.

The hotel was modern and clean, if somewhat generic—the kind of place designed specifically for transit passengers who needed a bed for a few hours. The lobby was quiet, with only a handful of other guests checking in. Once again, Wei and Lin helped me navigate the check-in process, translating between me and the desk clerk who spoke even less English than the woman at the airport.
"Right, well, I can't thank you both enough," I said once we all had our room keys. "You've been absolute lifesavers."

"It's really no problem," Wei said. "We're happy to help."

We started toward the lifts, our rooms apparently all on the same floor. As we waited, I mentioned, "I was thinking of freshening up and then heading into the city for a bit. Get some dinner, maybe have a look around. I've never been to Shanghai before, and it seems a shame to waste a whole day sitting in a hotel room."

"Oh, we were planning the same thing!" Lin said enthusiastically. "You should come with us! We can show you around a bit."

I hesitated for only a moment. Spending the evening with a gorgeous woman and her accommodating husband? Yes, please. "That would be brilliant, actually. I'd love to."

"Perfect," Lin said, her smile widening. "Shall we meet back down here in, say, thirty minutes?"

"Sounds like a plan."

I made it to my room, dropped my carry-on bag on the bed, and immediately headed for the shower. The hot water felt incredible after the long flight, washing away the staleness and fatigue. As I stood under the spray, I couldn't help but think about Lin.

Wow, she was attractive. That body, those legs, that smile. And the way she'd looked at me—there was definitely something there, wasn't there? Or was I just a dirty old man reading too much into a young woman's friendliness?

But then again, Wei hadn't seemed bothered by her obvious flirtation. If anything, he'd seemed... encouraging?

I thought about my wife, Sarah, back home in Weybridge. God, she would love this story. We'd been in the lifestyle for seven years now, and one of our rules was complete transparency. We told each other everything, shared all our experiences. Sometimes we'd watch videos of each other's encounters, using them to fuel our own passion. Sarah got off on hearing about my adventures with other women, and I loved hearing about her experiences with other men.

Would anything happen with Lin and Wei? Probably not. They were just being friendly, helping out a stranded foreigner. But still... there was something in the air, a certain electricity.

I dried off, dressed in fresh clothes—dark jeans and a fitted black shirt—and headed down to the lobby. I was a few minutes early, but Lin and Wei appeared almost immediately after, both also freshly showered and changed.

And , Lin had changed into an even more revealing outfit.

She wore a black micro miniskirt that barely covered her arse, paired with a tight red top that hugged every curve and displayed her cleavage prominently. Her legs seemed to go on forever, ending in a pair of strappy heels that made her nearly as tall as me. She'd touched up her makeup, adding a dark red lipstick that made her lips look absolutely kissable.

My cock stirred again, more insistently this time. I was definitely going to need to have a wank later, thinking about this woman.

"Ready?" she asked brightly, as if she wasn't dressed like every middle-aged man's fantasy.
"Absolutely," I managed.

The metro station was a short walk from the hotel, and soon we were descending into Shanghai's impressively modern underground system. The platform was busy with evening commuters, and when our train arrived, we squeezed into a relatively crowded carriage.

Lin ended up in the middle again, pressed between Wei and me as the train lurched into motion. With the crowd pushing us together, her body was flush against mine, her arse pressing against my hip, her breast soft against my arm. I could feel the heat of her through our clothes.

She didn't move away.

Neither did I.

"So, James," she said, tilting her head up to look at me. We were close enough that I could feel her breath on my neck. "Tell us about your family. Are you married?"

"I am, yes. Twenty-five years now."

"Twenty-five years!" Lin's eyes widened. "That's amazing. You must have married young."

"Young enough. We have three kids—all grown now, thank God. A son who's twenty-three, and two daughters, twenty-two and twenty-one."

"All at university?" Wei asked from Lin's other side.

"Yes, all three of them. So the house is empty these days. Just me and Sarah rattling around."

"Sarah—that's your wife?" Lin asked.

"That's right."

"Is she beautiful?"

The question was direct, almost bold. I smiled. "I think so, yes. She's forty-five, but she looks after herself. Keeps fit, dresses well. I'm a lucky man."

"I bet she is beautiful," Lin said softly. "You're a very handsome man, James. I imagine your wife and daughters are stunning."

There was something in the way she said it, a certain heat in her voice, that made my cock twitch. "My daughters take after their mother," I said. "They're both... well, they're very popular with the lads, let's put it that way. Have been since they were in sixth form."

"And your son?" Wei asked.

"Tall and handsome, like his old man," I said with a grin. "The girls have been chasing him since he was fifteen."

Lin laughed, a musical sound. "A family of beautiful people. How lovely."

The train swayed, and Lin's hand came to rest on my thigh, ostensibly to steady herself. But it stayed there, her fingers warm through the denim of my jeans.

Wei's hand was on her other thigh, I noticed. High up, almost under her skirt.

The train pulled into a station, and we disembarked, emerging into the neon-lit streets of Shanghai. The city was alive with energy—crowds of people, flashing signs in Chinese characters, the smell of street food wafting from nearby vendors. It was overwhelming and exhilarating.

We walked through the streets, Lin between us, and I noticed that she and Wei were holding hands. Every so often, they would stop and kiss—not chaste pecks, but proper, passionate kisses, their mouths open, tongues visible. And each time they did, Lin would look at me over Wei's shoulder, her eyes locked on mine.

It was incredibly erotic.

We took photos—touristy shots of the three of us in front of various landmarks, selfies with the Shanghai skyline in the background. Lin insisted on being in the middle of every photo, pressed between Wei and me, her arms around both our waists.

"You know," she said at one point, as we paused to look at a street performer, "I'm really glad we met you, James. You're fun."

"I'm glad we met too," I said honestly. "This is much better than spending the evening alone in my hotel room."

"Much better," she agreed, and her hand found mine, her fingers intertwining with my own.

Wei, walking on her other side, didn't react at all.

We found a restaurant down a side street, a local place that clearly didn't cater to tourists. The menu was entirely in Chinese, but Wei ordered for all of us, and soon the table was covered with an array of dishes—dumplings, noodles, spicy chicken, vegetables I couldn't identify but tasted incredible.

"This is fantastic," I said, genuinely impressed. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Our pleasure," Wei said. "So, James, mergers and acquisitions—that must be interesting work."

"It has its moments. Lots of negotiation, lots of paperwork, lots of travel. But yes, I enjoy it."

"You must be quite wealthy," Lin said again, that same playful tone in her voice. "To be flying business class to Sydney, staying in nice hotels..."

I laughed. "I do alright, as I said. I'm comfortable. Not rich, exactly, but comfortable."

"What about you two?" I asked. "Wei, you said you're in property?"

"Yes, estate agency. I work for a firm in West London at the moment, but I'm hoping to start my own business in the next year or so. The market's good right now."

"And you, Lin?" I asked, genuinely curious. "You said hospitality?"

She smiled, that mischievous glint in her eye again. "I work as an escort," she said simply, as if she'd just told me she was a teacher or a nurse.

I nearly choked on my beer.

"A high-end escort," she clarified, still smiling. "Very exclusive clientele. Businessmen, mostly. Wealthy men who want company for the evening—dinner, conversation, and yes, sex."

I stared at her, genuinely taken aback. Not by what she did—I'd known a couple of women in the lifestyle who'd worked as escorts—but by how openly she'd said it. Most people would dance around it, use euphemisms. But Lin had just put it right out there.

"I... wow," I said. "That's very... honest of you."

"Why shouldn't I be honest?" she asked, tilting her head. "I love my job. I enjoy sex, I enjoy variety, and I make excellent money. What's to be ashamed of?"

"Nothing at all," I said quickly. "I'm just not used to people being so upfront about it."

"I love watching her work," Wei said casually, taking a sip of his beer. "Seeing her with other men—it's incredibly exciting."

I looked between them, understanding dawning. "So you're... you both enjoy..."

"We're very open," Lin said. "Wei loves watching me fuck other men. And I love being watched. It works for us."

"You should try her," Wei said with a wink. "She's incredible."

My cock, which had been at half-mast all evening, suddenly became fully erect. "I... that's very flattering, but—"

"Tonight," Lin interrupted, her eyes locked on mine. "Come to our room tonight. Normally I charge quite a lot, but for you, James, it's free. Because I really like you."

My mouth had gone dry. "I... are you serious?"

"Very serious," she said, and under the table, her foot ran up my calf. "Do you want to?"

Did I want to? Was she joking? This gorgeous woman, young enough to be my daughter, was offering herself to me, with her husband's blessing and encouragement?

"Yes," I heard myself say. "God, yes."

Lin's smile widened. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of anticipation. My cock remained stubbornly hard, pressing uncomfortably against my jeans, and I had to adjust myself several times under the table. Every time Lin moved, every time she laughed or touched my arm, I felt another surge of arousal.

We talked more—I told them about Sarah and me, about our seven years in the swinging lifestyle, about our regular couple friends and our occasional visits to clubs and parties.

"So your wife knows you have sex with other women?" Lin asked, fascinated. As she leaned forward, I caught another glimpse down her top—those perfect breasts, the dark nipples just visible through the thin fabric of her bra.

"Absolutely. We tell each other everything. We have rules—no emotions, no feelings, just physical pleasure. And we share everything with each other. Photos, videos, all the details." My mind was already racing ahead, imagining the photos I'd send Sarah tomorrow. Her face when she saw Lin's body. The way she'd touch herself whilst looking at them.

"Does she have sex with other men?" Wei asked.

"Oh yes. We both play, sometimes together, sometimes separately. As long as we're honest with each other, it works." I thought about Sarah with other men—the way she looked when she was being fucked, her face flushed, her tits bouncing. I was so hard it hurt.

"That's wonderful," Lin said. "I wish more couples were like that. So much jealousy and possessiveness in the world."

"Will you tell your wife about tonight?" Wei asked.

"Definitely. She'll love hearing about it. She'll probably want to see photos or video, if that's alright."

"More than alright," Wei said, and I noticed the bulge in his jeans had grown considerably. "I always record Lin with her clients. For our personal collection."

"Your wife sounds amazing," Lin said. "I'd love to meet her sometime."

"She'd love to meet you too," I said, and I meant it. Sarah would be absolutely thrilled by this whole situation. She'd probably want to join in, watch me fuck this gorgeous young woman, maybe even taste her pussy herself.

As we walked back to the metro station, Lin hung on my arm like a girlfriend, her body pressed against mine. I could feel the heat of her through our clothes, smell her perfume mixed with something else—arousal, perhaps. Wei walked on her other side, his hand on her arse, occasionally squeezing. I watched his fingers dig into her flesh through the thin fabric of her skirt and felt my cock throb.

"Tell us more about your family," Lin said as we waited for the train. "Your daughters—are they as open-minded as you and your wife?"

"I don't know, actually," I admitted. "We've never discussed it with them. They're adults now, living their own lives. They're both very popular with men, very confident and sexual, but we don't really talk about that sort of thing."

Even as I said it, unbidden images flashed through my mind—my daughters at the beach last summer, in their bikinis. Emma's curves, so much like her mother's. Sophie's long legs, her flat stomach. what was wrong with me? They were my daughters.

"You should," Lin said. "I bet they'd be interested. Young people today are much more open about sex."

"Maybe," I said, though the thought of discussing swinging with my daughters made me uncomfortable. They were my little girls, even if they were grown women now.

"Your son too," Wei added. "I bet he'd love the lifestyle. Young, handsome, fit—he'd be very popular at swinger parties."

"Perhaps," I said noncommittally. But my treacherous mind was already imagining Tom at a swinger party, watching him with other women. Would his cock be like mine? Would he fuck the way I did?

The train arrived, and once again Lin positioned herself between us. But this time, there was no pretense of propriety. Her hand went straight to my crotch, rubbing my erection through my jeans. I nearly groaned aloud at the contact. On her other side, Wei's hand disappeared under her skirt, and I could see his arm moving, his fingers clearly working between her legs.

"I can't wait to get you in our room," she whispered in my ear, her breath hot against my skin. "I'm going to suck your cock until you can't stand it anymore, and then I'm going to ride you until you fill me with cum."

I could feel precum leaking from my cock, dampening my boxers.

The train ride back to the hotel was the longest twenty minutes of my life. Lin's hand never left my crotch, stroking me through the denim, occasionally squeezing. I was terrified I'd cum right there on the train like a teenager.

We barely made it to the lift before we started kissing. Lin turned to me, grabbed my face with both hands, and pulled me down to her mouth. Her lips were soft and urgent, her tongue pushing into my mouth, tasting of the beer we'd drunk at dinner. I grabbed her arse, pulling her against me, feeling her grind against my erection. She was so small, so light—I could probably pick her up and fuck her against the wall if I wanted to.

Wei watched, a smile on his face, his own erection clearly visible in his jeans. He was stroking himself through the fabric, his eyes dark with arousal.

The lift doors opened on our floor, and we stumbled down the corridor, still kissing, hands roaming over each other's bodies. Wei walked ahead, unlocking their room door, and we tumbled inside.

The moment the door closed, we started tearing at each other's clothes. Lin pulled my shirt over my head whilst I fumbled with the button on her skirt. My hands were shaking—from excitement, from arousal, from the sheer unreality of the situation. Wei was already naked, and , he was impressive. His body was lean and muscular, clearly the result of hours in the gym. His cock stood proud from a neat patch of dark hair—not as long as mine, perhaps seven inches, but thick, with a pronounced head that was already glistening with precum.

"Is it alright if I record?" he asked, his phone in his hand. "For our collection?"

"Absolutely," I said, finally getting Lin's skirt undone. It fell to the floor, revealing a tiny black thong that barely covered anything. The fabric was already damp, I noticed—she was as aroused as I was.
"Good," Wei said, and the phone's camera light came on.

I pulled Lin's top off, revealing a matching black bra that pushed her breasts up and together. They were perfect—not large, perhaps a B-cup, but beautifully shaped, firm and high. She reached back and unhooked the bra, letting it fall away, and I just stared. Her breasts were exquisite—golden skin, perfectly proportioned, with small dark nipples that were already hard and pointing upward. I could see her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breathing.

I bent down and took one nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, and she gasped. Her skin tasted slightly salty, and I could feel her nipple hardening even more against my tongue. My hands went to her arse, squeezing the firm flesh, and then I hooked my thumbs in her thong and pulled it down.

She stepped out of it, now completely naked except for her heels, and I took a moment to just look at her. She was stunning—all smooth golden skin, toned muscles, perfect proportions. Her stomach was flat, her hips flared just enough to be feminine. And her pussy— her pussy was perfect. Completely bare, waxed smooth, the outer lips neat and tight. But she was aroused—I could see her inner lips peeking out, glistening with moisture, swollen and dark pink. Her clit was visible, a small bud at the top of her slit.

"Your turn," she said, and quickly undid my jeans, pushing them down along with my boxers. My cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, and she wrapped her small hand around it, stroking slowly. Her fingers couldn't quite meet around my girth.

"Mmm, nice and big," she purred, looking up at me with those dark eyes. "I'm going to enjoy this."

I kicked off my jeans and shoes, and then I picked her up—she was lighter than I expected, couldn't have weighed more than eight stone—and carried her to the bed. I tossed her down, and she landed with a laugh, spreading her legs invitingly. Her pussy opened slightly with the movement, and I could see how wet she was—her inner lips were slick and shining, and there was moisture on her inner thighs.

I didn't need a second invitation.

I knelt between her legs and dove straight for her pussy, my tongue finding her clit immediately. She gasped and arched her back, her hands going to my head, holding me in place. I licked and sucked, tasting her—sweet and musky and absolutely delicious, with a slight tang that made my cock throb. My tongue explored every fold, every crevice, occasionally dipping inside her to taste her wetness. She was so wet, so ready, her juices coating my chin and lips.

"Oh fuck, yes," she moaned. "Just like that, James. Don't stop."

I had no intention of stopping. I worked her clit with my tongue, occasionally sucking it into my mouth, whilst my fingers found her entrance and pushed inside. She was tight—incredibly tight—and hot, her muscles clenching around my fingers. I could feel her wetness coating my hand, dripping down my wrist.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Wei in the chair, his phone pointed at us, his other hand slowly stroking his cock. He was fully hard now, his cock standing straight up, and I could see precum leaking from the tip.

I added a second finger, then a third, fucking her with my hand whilst my mouth worked her clit. Her moans grew louder, her hips bucking against my face, and I could feel her getting close. Her pussy was clenching rhythmically around my fingers, and her clit was swollen and hard against my tongue.

"I'm going to cum," she gasped. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum!"

I doubled my efforts, my tongue flicking rapidly over her clit, my fingers curling inside her to hit that spot that made her scream. And then she was there, her whole body tensing, her pussy clamping down on my fingers so hard it almost hurt, her thighs squeezing my head as she came with a long, loud moan. I could feel her pussy pulsing, could taste the flood of her juices as she came, coating my tongue and lips.

I didn't stop, licking her through her orgasm, tasting every drop, until finally she pushed my head away, too sensitive to continue.

"Holy fuck," she panted, her chest heaving, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. "That was incredible."
I crawled up her body, and she pulled me into a kiss, tasting herself on my lips. Her hand found my cock again, stroking it, and then she whispered in my ear, "Does my pussy taste like your daughters' pussies? Or like your wife's?"

I froze, shocked by the question. But my cock, traitorously, got even harder in her hand, throbbing visibly.

She felt it and smiled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You like that idea, don't you? Thinking about your daughters' pussies?"

"I... I've never..." I stammered, but even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. I had thought about it, in those dark moments late at night when my defenses were down. Wondered what they looked like naked, what they tasted like, how they'd feel.

"Never seen them naked? Never thought about what they look like, what they taste like?" Her hand was still stroking me, her thumb rubbing over the head of my cock, spreading the precum that was leaking steadily now. "I bet they're beautiful, just like their mother. I bet they have tight, sweet pussies that would feel amazing around your cock. Do they look like their mum? Do they have her tits, her arse?"
"Lin..." I groaned, but I couldn't deny the effect her words were having on me. My cock was harder than it had been in years, throbbing in her hand.

"You should fuck them," she whispered, her lips brushing my ear. "Both of them. I bet they'd love it. I bet they've thought about it too, wondered what their handsome daddy's cock looks like, how it would feel inside them. Have you seen them looking at you? Noticed the way they dress around you?"
That did it. I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her hips, positioned myself at her entrance, and thrust inside her in one smooth motion.

She cried out, her back arching, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. "Yes! Fuck me, James! Fuck me like you want to fuck your daughters!"

I pounded into her, all restraint gone, driven by a primal need I didn't fully understand. She was so tight, so wet, her pussy gripping my cock like a vice. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through me, and I could feel my orgasm building embarrassingly quickly. I could hear the wet sounds of our fucking, could feel her juices coating my cock and balls.

"Fill me up," she moaned, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Cum inside me, James. Breed me like you want to breed your daughters."

"I'm going to," I grunted, my rhythm becoming erratic. I could feel my balls tightening, the pressure building at the base of my spine.

"Fill her up," Wei said from his chair, his voice thick with arousal. I glanced over and saw him stroking his cock faster, his eyes fixed on where my cock was disappearing into his wife's pussy. "She's ovulating right now. Breed her. Put a baby in her."

That pushed me over the edge. The thought of cumming inside this gorgeous young woman, of potentially getting her pregnant, was too much. I thrust deep one last time and exploded, my cock pulsing as I emptied myself inside her, rope after rope of cum filling her pussy. I could feel it, hot and thick, coating her insides.

"Yes!" she cried, her own orgasm triggered by mine, her pussy milking every last drop from me, clenching and releasing rhythmically.

I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting, sweaty, completely spent. My cock was still inside her, still semi-hard, and I could feel our combined fluids leaking out around it, dripping down onto the sheets.
"That was fucking incredible," I managed.

"Mmm, it was," she agreed, running her fingers through my hair. "But we're not done yet. The night is young, and I want that cock in every hole before morning."

She wasn't kidding.

Over the next several hours, we fucked in every position imaginable. After I'd recovered—which took about twenty minutes and involved Lin sucking my cock back to hardness whilst Wei fucked her from behind—she rode me cowgirl style. I lay on my back and watched as she straddled me, reaching down to guide my cock to her entrance. She was still full of my cum from before, and I could feel it coating my cock as she sank down onto me.

"Oh fuck," she moaned, her head falling back as she took me all the way inside. "You're so big, James. You fill me up completely."

She started to move, grinding her clit against my pubic bone, and I watched in fascination as her tits bounced with each movement. Her nipples were hard, dark points, and I reached up to pinch them, making her gasp. I could see my cock disappearing into her pussy, could see the mixture of our fluids coating my shaft, dripping down onto my balls.

Wei was beside us now, filming from different angles, his cock hard again. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Ride his cock. Show him how good you are."

Lin leaned forward, changing the angle, and I could feel her pussy clenching around me. "Touch yourself," I told Wei. "Wank whilst you watch me fuck your wife."

He didn't need to be told twice. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with Lin's movements.

I grabbed Lin's hips and started thrusting up into her, meeting her downward movements, and she cried out. "Yes! Fuck me harder! Make me cum on your cock!"

I could feel another orgasm building, but I was determined to make her cum first. I reached between us and found her clit, rubbing it in circles whilst I fucked her, and within moments she was there, her pussy clamping down on my cock as she came, her whole body shaking.

"Don't stop," she gasped. "Keep fucking me. I want your cum again."

I kept thrusting, and soon I was there too, cumming inside her for the second time, adding to the mess already inside her. When I finished, she climbed off me, and I could see my cum leaking out of her pussy, thick and white against her golden skin.

"Clean her up," Wei said, and I realized he was talking to me.

I looked at Lin's pussy, at my cum dripping out of her, and felt a surge of arousal despite having just cum. I'd never done this before—never tasted my own cum. But something about the situation, about Wei watching, about Lin's expectant expression, made me want to do it.

I moved between her legs and started licking, tasting the mixture of her juices and my cum. It was strange—salty and slightly bitter—but not unpleasant. Lin moaned as my tongue worked over her sensitive flesh, licking up every drop.

"That's so hot," Wei said, and I looked up to see him wanking faster, his cock red and swollen.

After I'd cleaned Lin's pussy, we rearranged. This time, I took her from behind, doggy style. She got on her hands and knees, and I positioned myself behind her, admiring the view. Her arse was perfect—firm and round, with smooth golden skin. Her pussy was swollen and red from our previous fucking, glistening with moisture.

I pushed inside her, and she pushed back against me, taking me deep. Wei moved to film from the side, capturing the moment my cock disappeared into his wife's pussy. I could see it on his phone screen—my thick cock stretching her tight pussy, her lips gripping my shaft.

I fucked her hard, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto me with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with Lin's moans and my grunts.

"Fuck her arse," Wei said suddenly. "She loves it in the arse."

Lin looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes dark with lust. "Do you want to fuck my arse, James? I want to feel your big cock in there."

I'd never been so turned on in my life. I pulled out of her pussy and positioned my cock at her arsehole. It was tight, puckered, and I could see it clenching. I pushed forward slowly, feeling the resistance, and then suddenly the head of my cock popped inside.

"Oh fuck," Lin gasped, her hands gripping the sheets. "Go slow. You're so big."

I pushed in gradually, inch by inch, until I was fully seated inside her arse. It was incredibly tight, even tighter than her pussy, and hot. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, could see her arsehole stretched around my cock.

"Move," she said. "Fuck my arse, James."

I started to thrust, slowly at first, then faster as she relaxed. It was incredible—the tightness, the heat, the visual of my cock disappearing into her arse. Wei was filming it all, his own cock in his hand, stroking faster.

"I'm going to cum," Wei said suddenly, and then he was there, his cock erupting, cum shooting out in thick ropes. Some of it landed on Lin's back, some on the sheets, and I watched in fascination as he milked every last drop from his cock.

The sight pushed me over the edge. I thrust deep into Lin's arse one last time and came, filling her with my cum. I could feel it pulsing out of me, coating her insides, and when I finally pulled out, I could see my cum leaking from her gaping arsehole.

We collapsed on the bed, all three of us completely spent. But we weren't done yet.

After another recovery period—during which Lin sucked both our cocks, taking turns, her mouth moving from one to the other—Wei and I took her together. I lay on my back, and Lin straddled me, sinking down onto my cock. Then Wei positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her arsehole.
"Ready, baby?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped. "Fill me up. Both of you."

Wei pushed inside her arse, and I could feel him through the thin wall of tissue separating us. It was the most incredible sensation—her pussy clenching around my cock, Wei's cock moving in her arse, all of us connected.

We found a rhythm, thrusting in alternation, and Lin was moaning constantly, her head thrown back, her body shaking. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she chanted. "I'm so full. You're both so deep inside me."

We fucked her like that for what felt like hours, though it was probably only twenty minutes. When we finally came—Wei first, then me moments later—Lin came too, her whole body convulsing, her pussy and arse clenching around us.

We talked throughout, the conversation getting filthier as the night went on. Lin kept bringing up my family, asking about my wife, my daughters, my son. She'd say things like, "I bet your wife would love watching you fuck your daughters," or "Your son's cock is probably just like yours—big and hard and perfect for fucking. I want both of you inside me at the same time, father and son, filling me up with your cum."

And God help me, it turned me on. Every time she mentioned my family in a sexual context, my cock would throb, and she'd feel it and smile knowingly.

"You want it, don't you?" she whispered at one point, as I fucked her slowly, both of us on our sides, my cock sliding in and out of her pussy whilst Wei recovered in the chair. "You want to fuck your daughters. You want to watch your son fuck your wife. You want your whole family in the lifestyle."

"I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice hoarse. "I've never thought about it before." But that was a lie. I had thought about it, in those dark moments I didn't want to acknowledge. Wondered what Emma looked like naked, whether Sophie's pussy was as tight as I imagined.

"You're thinking about it now," she said, and she was right. I was imagining Emma on her knees, my cock in her mouth. Sophie riding me, her tits bouncing. Sarah watching, touching herself.

"They're adults," Wei said from where he was recovering in the chair. "All three of them. If they're interested, why not? It's just bodies, just pleasure. Why should family be different?"

"I don't even know if they'd be interested," I said, thrusting deeper into Lin, making her gasp. Her pussy clenched around my cock, hot and slick, and I could feel her wetness coating my shaft, dripping down onto my balls.

"Only one way to find out," Lin said, her internal muscles gripping me rhythmically. "Ask them. Or better yet, show them. Let them see how much fun you and your wife have. I bet they'd be curious. Young people are so much more open now. And if they're anything like you and your wife, they're probably already exploring."

I didn't respond, too focused on the feeling of her pussy around my cock, but the seed had been planted. I was imagining it now—my family, all of us together, exploring, pleasuring each other. Emma's blonde hair spread across my pillow as I kissed down her body. Sophie's full breasts in my hands, her nipples hardening under my touch. Tom's confident grin as he watched Sarah ride him. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong, but , it was arousing. My cock throbbed inside Lin, and she felt it, smiling knowingly.

Eventually, exhausted and completely drained, I fell asleep with my cock in Lin's mouth and Wei's cock in her arse, all three of us tangled together on the bed. My last conscious thought was of my daughters—wondering what they looked like naked, what sounds they made when they came—and I felt a mixture of shame and arousal that I couldn't quite shake.

I woke to the sensation of a warm, wet mouth on my cock. I opened my eyes to find Lin between my legs, her head bobbing as she sucked me, her eyes locked on mine. The morning light was streaming through the window, and I could see her clearly—her lips stretched around my cock, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked, saliva dripping down my shaft.

"Good morning," she said, releasing my cock with a wet pop. A string of saliva connected her lips to my cock head, and she licked it away. "I hope you don't mind. I woke up horny."

"I definitely don't mind," I said, my voice rough with sleep. My cock was already fully hard, standing straight up from my groin.

Wei was awake too, I realized, kneeling behind Lin. As I watched, he positioned his cock at her pussy and thrust inside, making her moan around my cock. The vibration sent pleasure shooting through me.
"Fuck, that's good," Wei groaned, his hands gripping Lin's hips. "She's still full of your cum from last night. I can feel it."

Lin took me deeper, her throat opening, and I felt the head of my cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly but didn't pull back, instead pushing forward, taking me into her throat. I could see her throat bulging with my cock, could feel the tight heat of it.

"God," I gasped, my hands going to her head, holding her in place. She stayed there for a moment, her nose pressed against my pubic bone, my entire cock buried in her throat, and then she pulled back, gasping for air, saliva dripping from her chin.

"Fuck my face," she said, her voice hoarse. "Use my throat."

I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed her head with both hands and started thrusting up into her mouth, fucking her face whilst Wei fucked her pussy from behind. She gagged and choked, saliva and precum dripping down her chin, coating her tits, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes were watering, mascara running down her cheeks, and she looked absolutely debauched.

"That's it," Wei encouraged, his thrusts becoming harder. "Take his cock. Take it all."

I could feel my orgasm building, my balls tightening. "I'm going to cum," I warned.

"Cum in her mouth," Wei said. "Fill her up."

I thrust deep one last time and came, my cock pulsing as I emptied myself down her throat. She swallowed frantically, trying to take it all, but there was too much. Cum leaked out around my cock, dripping down her chin, coating her lips.

When I finally pulled out, she opened her mouth to show me—it was full of my cum, white and thick on her tongue. Then she swallowed, showing me her empty mouth afterwards.

"Good girl," Wei said, and then he was cumming too, filling her pussy with his cum.

We fucked like that for a while longer, Lin being spit-roasted between us, until we all came again—me down her throat, Wei inside her pussy. By the time we finished, Lin's face was covered in cum and saliva, her hair was a mess, and she looked thoroughly used. And she was smiling.

Then we showered together, the three of us squeezed into the small bathroom. The shower was barely big enough for two people, let alone three, and we were pressed together, hands roaming over soapy skin, kissing and touching.

Lin knelt in the shower, water cascading over her, and sucked both our cocks, taking turns, her hands stroking what her mouth couldn't reach. Wei and I stood side by side, watching her work, occasionally kissing each other's wives—or in this case, his wife.

Then I fucked her again, Lin pressed against the tiles whilst I took her from behind, the water cascading over us. Her tits were pressed against the cold tiles, her arse pushed out, and I could see my cock disappearing into her pussy with each thrust. The water made everything slippery, made the sensations more intense.

"Harder," she begged. "Fuck me harder, James."

I obliged, pounding into her, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. When I came, I pulled out and came on her arse, watching my cum coat her golden skin before the water washed it away.

Finally, reluctantly, we got dressed. We had flights to catch, lives to return to. My cock was sore, my balls were empty, and I was exhausted, but I'd never felt better.

As we packed up our things, Lin said, "I meant what I said last night, James. I'd love to see you again in London."

"I'd like that too," I said honestly. My mind was already racing ahead, imagining introducing her to Sarah, to our swinger friends.

"I want to meet your son," she said with a wicked smile, pulling on her tiny shorts. "I want both of you to fuck me at the same time. Father and son, filling me up. I want to feel your cocks rubbing together inside me, want to taste both your cum mixed together."

My cock stirred again, despite having cum at least six times in the past twelve hours. The image she was painting—Tom and me, both inside her, our cocks touching—was incredibly arousing and deeply wrong at the same time.

"And I want to meet your wife and daughters," Wei said, pulling on his jeans. "I want to fuck them, get them ready for you. I want to watch you lick your daughters' pussies, taste my cum inside them. I want to see you fuck them, see them take your cock, hear them call you daddy whilst you're inside them."
"Jesus," I muttered, but I was rock hard again. The images were flooding my mind now—Emma on her back, legs spread, Wei's cum leaking from her pussy whilst I licked her clean. Sophie riding me, her tits bouncing, calling out "Daddy, daddy, daddy" as she came.

Lin noticed and laughed, reaching out to squeeze my cock through my jeans. "You love that idea, don't you? Admit it."

"I... yes," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "God help me, but yes."

"Then make it happen," she said simply, her hand still on my cock. "Talk to your family. See if they're interested. And then call us. I want to watch you fuck your daughters, James. I want to see you cum inside them, the same way you came inside me. I want to taste their pussies after you've filled them with cum. Will you do that for me?"

"I'll... I'll try," I said, my voice hoarse. I knew it was wrong, knew I shouldn't be thinking these things, but I couldn't help it. The images were there now, planted in my mind, and I knew they wouldn't go away.

We exchanged phone numbers, promising to stay in touch. Lin insisted on taking a few more photos—selfies of the three of us, looking thoroughly fucked and happy. There was one of Lin with both our cocks in her mouth, one of her covered in our cum, one of me between her legs, my face glistening with her juices.

"For your wife," she said with a wink, sending them to my phone. "So she knows what you've been up to. I bet she'll love them. I bet she'll touch herself looking at them, imagining it was her."

And then it was time to go. We rode the shuttle bus back to the airport together, said our goodbyes at the terminal, and went our separate ways—them to Nanjing, me to Sydney.

As I sat in the departure lounge, waiting for my flight to board, I pulled out my phone and looked at the photos Lin had sent me. There we were, the three of us, naked and sweaty and grinning. There was Lin, my cock in her mouth, looking up at the camera with those dark eyes. There was me, between her legs, my face glistening with her juices. There was one of her face, covered in cum—mine and Wei's mixed together, dripping down her chin, coating her lips.

I opened a message to Sarah and attached the photos.

Had an interesting layover in Shanghai, I typed. Wait till you hear about this. Call you when I land in Sydney. Love you. x

I hit send and leaned back in my seat, a smile on my face. My cock was still tender, my body was exhausted, but I felt alive in a way I hadn't in years.

Twenty-two hours in Shanghai. Best layover of my life.

And if Lin and Wei had their way, it was just the beginning.]]> <![CDATA[The Insatiable Ones - Arjun and Priya - Sex is a means to an end, and lovely with family support]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73871.html Fri, 29 May 2026 18:55:44 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73871.html Part One: Discovery

The Mumbai monsoon rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the South Mumbai penthouse, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the sounds coming from the bedroom. Priya's moans echoed through the spacious apartment as Arjun thrust into her from behind, his hands gripping her hips with possessive intensity.

"Harder," she gasped, pushing back against him. "Don't hold back."

Arjun grinned, increasing his pace. This was their third round tonight, and neither showed any signs of slowing down. They'd met only six weeks ago at a corporate networking event in Bandra, and from the moment their eyes locked across the crowded hotel ballroom, both had known exactly what they wanted.

The attraction had been immediate and overwhelming. Priya, stunning in a deep red saree that hugged her curves, had caught Arjun staring at her from across the room. Instead of looking away demurely as many women might, she'd held his gaze and smiled—a smile that promised everything. Within twenty minutes, they were in a corner having an intense conversation that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with the electricity crackling between them.

"I don't believe in playing games," Priya had told him that first night, her dark eyes locked on his. "I know what I want, and I'm not ashamed of it."

"And what do you want?" Arjun had asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.
"Right now? You. In my bed. Tonight."

They'd left the event within the hour.

That first night had been revelatory for both of them. Priya had taken him to her apartment in Colaba, a stylish one-bedroom with a view of the Arabian Sea. They'd barely made it through the door before they were tearing at each other's clothes, desperate and hungry.

"I need to tell you something," Priya had said as they stood in her living room, both half-undressed. "I have a very high sex drive. Like, abnormally high. Most men can't keep up with me."
Arjun had laughed, pulling her close. "Try me."

They'd fucked four times that night—on the couch, against the wall, in her bed, and finally in the shower at dawn. Each time, Priya had been insatiable, demanding more, pushing for harder, deeper, longer. And each time, Arjun had matched her intensity, his own appetite proving equally voracious.
"You're incredible," she'd whispered as the sun rose over the Mumbai skyline, both of them finally exhausted and tangled in her sheets.

"So are you," he'd replied, already feeling himself getting hard again despite having just finished. "I've never met anyone like you."

"Someone who can't get enough?"

"Someone who isn't afraid to admit it."

That had been the beginning. Over the following weeks, they'd been inseparable, spending nearly every night together, exploring each other's bodies with an enthusiasm that bordered on obsession. They discovered they were perfectly matched—both unapologetically sexual, both driven by an almost constant need for physical pleasure, both completely uninhibited in bed.

Now, two months into their relationship, they'd moved into this penthouse together in South Mumbai—a spacious, modern apartment with three bedrooms, a sprawling living area, and that spectacular view of the city. It was Arjun's place originally, but Priya had moved in within weeks of meeting him. Why pretend otherwise when they couldn't stand to be apart?

"I'm close," Priya moaned now, her fingers gripping the silk sheets as Arjun pounded into her. "Don't stop, don't stop—"

He reached around to rub her clit, knowing exactly what she needed. Priya's whole body tensed, then she cried out, her orgasm crashing through her. Arjun followed moments later, groaning as he came deep inside her.

They collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard. Outside, the rain continued its relentless assault on the windows, the monsoon season in full force.

"How are you still so good at that?" Priya laughed, rolling onto her back. Her long black hair was spread across the pillow, her brown skin glistening with sweat. Even after multiple rounds, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

"Practice," Arjun grinned, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Lots and lots of practice."
"Mmm, and I plan to give you lots more." She stretched languidly, completely comfortable in her nakedness. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll be ready again."

"Twenty minutes? I was thinking ten."

She laughed, a rich, uninhibited sound. "God, I love that about you. Most men would be done for the night by now."

"Most men aren't me." He leaned down to kiss her, slow and deep. "Besides, I love that you're always ready. I've never had to hold back before, never had to pretend I wasn't thinking about sex constantly."
"Because you are thinking about sex constantly," Priya teased, running her fingers through his hair.
"So are you."

"True." She pulled him down for another kiss. "We're perfect for each other. Two complete sex addicts who found each other in this massive city."

It was true. Mumbai was a city of over twenty million people, and somehow they'd found each other—two people whose sexual appetites were so intense, so constant, that previous partners had often been overwhelmed or judgmental. But with each other, there was no judgment, no shame, no need to hold back.

They talked about sex constantly, openly, without embarrassment. Over breakfast, Priya might casually mention a fantasy she'd had the night before. During dinner, Arjun might describe something he wanted to try. Their conversations were explicit, detailed, and completely natural.

"I was thinking," Priya said now, trailing her fingers down Arjun's chest, "about that thing you mentioned last week."

"Which thing?" He was already getting hard again, her touch igniting his desire.

"About watching me with someone else."

Arjun's breath caught. They'd discussed fantasies before—many fantasies—but this one had come up recently and had been occupying his thoughts ever since. "You've been thinking about it?"

"Constantly." She wrapped her hand around his growing erection, stroking slowly. "The idea of you watching me fuck another man... it turns me on so much."

"Tell me more," he groaned, his hips moving involuntarily into her touch.

"I imagine you sitting in that chair," she gestured to the armchair in the corner of their bedroom, "watching as another man touches me, kisses me, fucks me. And knowing you're getting turned on by it, knowing you want to see it..."

"Fuck, Priya—"

"Would you touch yourself while you watched?" she continued, her voice low and seductive. "Would you stroke your cock while another man made me come?"

"Yes," he admitted, completely aroused now. "God, yes."

She climbed on top of him, positioning herself over his erection. "And what about me with another woman? Would you want to watch that too?"

"Absolutely." He gripped her hips as she slowly lowered herself onto him. "Would you want to be with another woman?"

"Mmm, yes." She began to ride him, slow and deliberate. "I've been with women before. I love it. The softness, the way they understand a woman's body..."

"Tell me," Arjun urged, thrusting up into her.

"I had a girlfriend in college," Priya said, moving faster now. "We used to spend entire weekends in bed together. She taught me how to eat pussy, how to make a woman come with just my tongue..."
"Fuck, that's hot."

"Would you want to watch me go down on another woman?" She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Watch me make her come while you fuck me from behind?"

"Yes, god yes—"

They moved together frantically now, both lost in the fantasy and the physical sensation. Priya came first, her inner walls clenching around him, and Arjun followed immediately after, the combination of her words and her body too much to resist.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, the rain still drumming against the windows.

"I love that we can talk like this," Priya said softly. "That we can share these fantasies without judgment."

"Me too." Arjun kissed her forehead. "I've never felt this free with anyone."

"Neither have I." She snuggled closer. "Most people would think we're crazy, you know. The amount we have sex, the things we talk about..."

"Probably. But I don't care what other people think."

"Neither do I." She looked up at him, her dark eyes serious. "I'm a nymphomaniac, Arjun. I've known it for years. I need sex constantly. It's not just wanting it—it's needing it. And I've never apologized for it, never tried to be something I'm not."

"I'm the same way," he admitted. "I've always had this insane sex drive. Previous girlfriends couldn't keep up, or they'd get upset that I wanted it so often. They'd make me feel like there was something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you." Priya kissed him fiercely. "There's nothing wrong with either of us. We just need more than most people. And we found each other."

"We did." He held her close, feeling a surge of affection along with the ever-present desire. "So what do we do about these fantasies? Just keep talking about them, or..."

"Or make them real?" Priya finished. She was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I think we should explore them. Carefully, together, but... yes. I think we should."

"You mean like finding other couples? Swinging?"

"Maybe. Or just... being open to possibilities. Seeing where our desires take us." She propped herself up to look at him. "But only if we're both completely honest with each other. Complete transparency, always."

"Always," Arjun agreed. "I don't want secrets between us."

"Neither do I." She smiled, that wicked smile he'd fallen for. "So we're really doing this? Opening up our relationship?"

"I think we are." He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness. "When do we start?"

"How about we start by getting more comfortable with the idea?" Priya suggested. "Talk about it more, explore the fantasy together, and then when we're ready, we can look into the actual swinging scene in Mumbai."

"There's a swinging scene in Mumbai?"

She laughed. "Baby, there's a swinging scene everywhere. You just have to know where to look. And I have a friend—Anjali—who's been in the lifestyle for years. She could introduce us."

"You've talked to her about this?"

"Not specifically about us, but we've discussed it in general. She knows I'm... adventurous." Priya grinned. "She's always said if I ever wanted to explore that world, she'd help."

Arjun felt his excitement growing. "So we could actually do this. Actually explore this lifestyle."

"If we want to. But there's no rush." She kissed him again. "For now, let's just enjoy each other and keep talking about what we want."

"I can do that." He rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs. "In fact, I can think of several ways to enjoy each other right now."

"Already?" Priya laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "You're insatiable."

"Look who's talking."

"Fair point." She pulled him down for a deep kiss. "Okay, round four. But this time, I want you to tell me your fantasies while you fuck me. I want to hear everything you've been thinking about."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

As Arjun entered her again, he began to talk, describing in explicit detail the images that had been filling his mind—watching her with other men, sharing her with his friends, seeing her pleasure multiple partners while he watched and participated. Priya responded with her own fantasies, painting vivid pictures of group encounters, of being the centre of attention, of exploring her bisexuality while Arjun watched.

They made love slowly this time, savouring each sensation, each word, each shared fantasy. Outside, the Mumbai night deepened, the city lights twinkling through the rain-streaked windows. Inside their penthouse sanctuary, Priya and Arjun continued their exploration of each other, two perfectly matched souls who'd found in each other the freedom to be completely, unapologetically themselves.
Later, as they finally lay exhausted in each other's arms, Priya whispered, "I have a good feeling about us, you know. About where this is going."

"Me too," Arjun replied, already half-asleep but still holding her close. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together."

"A lot of fun," Priya agreed, smiling in the darkness. "And maybe a lot more than that."

She was right, though neither of them could have predicted just how far their shared desires would take them, or how their uninhibited sexuality would transform not just their relationship, but their entire lives. For now, though, they were content to simply be together, two nymphomaniacs who'd found their perfect match in the sprawling, chaotic, beautiful city of Mumbai.

The rain continued to fall, and in the morning, they would wake and reach for each other again, as they always did. Because for Priya and Arjun, the hunger was never fully satisfied—it was simply shared, celebrated, and endlessly explored.]]> Part One: Discovery

The Mumbai monsoon rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the South Mumbai penthouse, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the sounds coming from the bedroom. Priya's moans echoed through the spacious apartment as Arjun thrust into her from behind, his hands gripping her hips with possessive intensity.

"Harder," she gasped, pushing back against him. "Don't hold back."

Arjun grinned, increasing his pace. This was their third round tonight, and neither showed any signs of slowing down. They'd met only six weeks ago at a corporate networking event in Bandra, and from the moment their eyes locked across the crowded hotel ballroom, both had known exactly what they wanted.

The attraction had been immediate and overwhelming. Priya, stunning in a deep red saree that hugged her curves, had caught Arjun staring at her from across the room. Instead of looking away demurely as many women might, she'd held his gaze and smiled—a smile that promised everything. Within twenty minutes, they were in a corner having an intense conversation that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with the electricity crackling between them.

"I don't believe in playing games," Priya had told him that first night, her dark eyes locked on his. "I know what I want, and I'm not ashamed of it."

"And what do you want?" Arjun had asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.
"Right now? You. In my bed. Tonight."

They'd left the event within the hour.

That first night had been revelatory for both of them. Priya had taken him to her apartment in Colaba, a stylish one-bedroom with a view of the Arabian Sea. They'd barely made it through the door before they were tearing at each other's clothes, desperate and hungry.

"I need to tell you something," Priya had said as they stood in her living room, both half-undressed. "I have a very high sex drive. Like, abnormally high. Most men can't keep up with me."
Arjun had laughed, pulling her close. "Try me."

They'd fucked four times that night—on the couch, against the wall, in her bed, and finally in the shower at dawn. Each time, Priya had been insatiable, demanding more, pushing for harder, deeper, longer. And each time, Arjun had matched her intensity, his own appetite proving equally voracious.
"You're incredible," she'd whispered as the sun rose over the Mumbai skyline, both of them finally exhausted and tangled in her sheets.

"So are you," he'd replied, already feeling himself getting hard again despite having just finished. "I've never met anyone like you."

"Someone who can't get enough?"

"Someone who isn't afraid to admit it."

That had been the beginning. Over the following weeks, they'd been inseparable, spending nearly every night together, exploring each other's bodies with an enthusiasm that bordered on obsession. They discovered they were perfectly matched—both unapologetically sexual, both driven by an almost constant need for physical pleasure, both completely uninhibited in bed.

Now, two months into their relationship, they'd moved into this penthouse together in South Mumbai—a spacious, modern apartment with three bedrooms, a sprawling living area, and that spectacular view of the city. It was Arjun's place originally, but Priya had moved in within weeks of meeting him. Why pretend otherwise when they couldn't stand to be apart?

"I'm close," Priya moaned now, her fingers gripping the silk sheets as Arjun pounded into her. "Don't stop, don't stop—"

He reached around to rub her clit, knowing exactly what she needed. Priya's whole body tensed, then she cried out, her orgasm crashing through her. Arjun followed moments later, groaning as he came deep inside her.

They collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard. Outside, the rain continued its relentless assault on the windows, the monsoon season in full force.

"How are you still so good at that?" Priya laughed, rolling onto her back. Her long black hair was spread across the pillow, her brown skin glistening with sweat. Even after multiple rounds, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

"Practice," Arjun grinned, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Lots and lots of practice."
"Mmm, and I plan to give you lots more." She stretched languidly, completely comfortable in her nakedness. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll be ready again."

"Twenty minutes? I was thinking ten."

She laughed, a rich, uninhibited sound. "God, I love that about you. Most men would be done for the night by now."

"Most men aren't me." He leaned down to kiss her, slow and deep. "Besides, I love that you're always ready. I've never had to hold back before, never had to pretend I wasn't thinking about sex constantly."
"Because you are thinking about sex constantly," Priya teased, running her fingers through his hair.
"So are you."

"True." She pulled him down for another kiss. "We're perfect for each other. Two complete sex addicts who found each other in this massive city."

It was true. Mumbai was a city of over twenty million people, and somehow they'd found each other—two people whose sexual appetites were so intense, so constant, that previous partners had often been overwhelmed or judgmental. But with each other, there was no judgment, no shame, no need to hold back.

They talked about sex constantly, openly, without embarrassment. Over breakfast, Priya might casually mention a fantasy she'd had the night before. During dinner, Arjun might describe something he wanted to try. Their conversations were explicit, detailed, and completely natural.

"I was thinking," Priya said now, trailing her fingers down Arjun's chest, "about that thing you mentioned last week."

"Which thing?" He was already getting hard again, her touch igniting his desire.

"About watching me with someone else."

Arjun's breath caught. They'd discussed fantasies before—many fantasies—but this one had come up recently and had been occupying his thoughts ever since. "You've been thinking about it?"

"Constantly." She wrapped her hand around his growing erection, stroking slowly. "The idea of you watching me fuck another man... it turns me on so much."

"Tell me more," he groaned, his hips moving involuntarily into her touch.

"I imagine you sitting in that chair," she gestured to the armchair in the corner of their bedroom, "watching as another man touches me, kisses me, fucks me. And knowing you're getting turned on by it, knowing you want to see it..."

"Fuck, Priya—"

"Would you touch yourself while you watched?" she continued, her voice low and seductive. "Would you stroke your cock while another man made me come?"

"Yes," he admitted, completely aroused now. "God, yes."

She climbed on top of him, positioning herself over his erection. "And what about me with another woman? Would you want to watch that too?"

"Absolutely." He gripped her hips as she slowly lowered herself onto him. "Would you want to be with another woman?"

"Mmm, yes." She began to ride him, slow and deliberate. "I've been with women before. I love it. The softness, the way they understand a woman's body..."

"Tell me," Arjun urged, thrusting up into her.

"I had a girlfriend in college," Priya said, moving faster now. "We used to spend entire weekends in bed together. She taught me how to eat pussy, how to make a woman come with just my tongue..."
"Fuck, that's hot."

"Would you want to watch me go down on another woman?" She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Watch me make her come while you fuck me from behind?"

"Yes, god yes—"

They moved together frantically now, both lost in the fantasy and the physical sensation. Priya came first, her inner walls clenching around him, and Arjun followed immediately after, the combination of her words and her body too much to resist.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, the rain still drumming against the windows.

"I love that we can talk like this," Priya said softly. "That we can share these fantasies without judgment."

"Me too." Arjun kissed her forehead. "I've never felt this free with anyone."

"Neither have I." She snuggled closer. "Most people would think we're crazy, you know. The amount we have sex, the things we talk about..."

"Probably. But I don't care what other people think."

"Neither do I." She looked up at him, her dark eyes serious. "I'm a nymphomaniac, Arjun. I've known it for years. I need sex constantly. It's not just wanting it—it's needing it. And I've never apologized for it, never tried to be something I'm not."

"I'm the same way," he admitted. "I've always had this insane sex drive. Previous girlfriends couldn't keep up, or they'd get upset that I wanted it so often. They'd make me feel like there was something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you." Priya kissed him fiercely. "There's nothing wrong with either of us. We just need more than most people. And we found each other."

"We did." He held her close, feeling a surge of affection along with the ever-present desire. "So what do we do about these fantasies? Just keep talking about them, or..."

"Or make them real?" Priya finished. She was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I think we should explore them. Carefully, together, but... yes. I think we should."

"You mean like finding other couples? Swinging?"

"Maybe. Or just... being open to possibilities. Seeing where our desires take us." She propped herself up to look at him. "But only if we're both completely honest with each other. Complete transparency, always."

"Always," Arjun agreed. "I don't want secrets between us."

"Neither do I." She smiled, that wicked smile he'd fallen for. "So we're really doing this? Opening up our relationship?"

"I think we are." He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness. "When do we start?"

"How about we start by getting more comfortable with the idea?" Priya suggested. "Talk about it more, explore the fantasy together, and then when we're ready, we can look into the actual swinging scene in Mumbai."

"There's a swinging scene in Mumbai?"

She laughed. "Baby, there's a swinging scene everywhere. You just have to know where to look. And I have a friend—Anjali—who's been in the lifestyle for years. She could introduce us."

"You've talked to her about this?"

"Not specifically about us, but we've discussed it in general. She knows I'm... adventurous." Priya grinned. "She's always said if I ever wanted to explore that world, she'd help."

Arjun felt his excitement growing. "So we could actually do this. Actually explore this lifestyle."

"If we want to. But there's no rush." She kissed him again. "For now, let's just enjoy each other and keep talking about what we want."

"I can do that." He rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs. "In fact, I can think of several ways to enjoy each other right now."

"Already?" Priya laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "You're insatiable."

"Look who's talking."

"Fair point." She pulled him down for a deep kiss. "Okay, round four. But this time, I want you to tell me your fantasies while you fuck me. I want to hear everything you've been thinking about."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

As Arjun entered her again, he began to talk, describing in explicit detail the images that had been filling his mind—watching her with other men, sharing her with his friends, seeing her pleasure multiple partners while he watched and participated. Priya responded with her own fantasies, painting vivid pictures of group encounters, of being the centre of attention, of exploring her bisexuality while Arjun watched.

They made love slowly this time, savouring each sensation, each word, each shared fantasy. Outside, the Mumbai night deepened, the city lights twinkling through the rain-streaked windows. Inside their penthouse sanctuary, Priya and Arjun continued their exploration of each other, two perfectly matched souls who'd found in each other the freedom to be completely, unapologetically themselves.
Later, as they finally lay exhausted in each other's arms, Priya whispered, "I have a good feeling about us, you know. About where this is going."

"Me too," Arjun replied, already half-asleep but still holding her close. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together."

"A lot of fun," Priya agreed, smiling in the darkness. "And maybe a lot more than that."

She was right, though neither of them could have predicted just how far their shared desires would take them, or how their uninhibited sexuality would transform not just their relationship, but their entire lives. For now, though, they were content to simply be together, two nymphomaniacs who'd found their perfect match in the sprawling, chaotic, beautiful city of Mumbai.

The rain continued to fall, and in the morning, they would wake and reach for each other again, as they always did. Because for Priya and Arjun, the hunger was never fully satisfied—it was simply shared, celebrated, and endlessly explored.]]> <![CDATA[LOVE/LUST BIRDS]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73850.html Thu, 28 May 2026 09:23:23 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73850.html

Innocence:

I know you hate surprises, Ayesha. In the interests of communicating our expectations and providing you a reasonable timeline, you should know we’re ready for grandchildren.”

Ayesha Naz’s gaze jumped from her breakfast up to her mother’s gracefully aging face. A subtle application of makeup drew attention to battle-ready, coffee-colored eyes. That boded ill for Ayesha. When her mother got something into her mind, she was like a honey badger with a vendetta—pugnacious and tenacious, but without the snarling and fur.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ayesha said.

Shock gave way to rapid-fire, panic-scrambled thoughts. Grandchildren meant babies. And diapers. Mountains of diapers. Exploding diapers. And babies cried,that even the best sound-canceling headphones couldn’t buffer. How did they cry so long and hard when they were so little? Plus, babies meant husbands. Husbands meant boyfriends. Boyfriends meant dating. Dating meant sex. She shuddered.

“You’re thirty, Ayesha dear. We’re concerned that you’re still single. Have you tried Tinder?”
She grabbed her water and gulped down a mouthful, accidentally swallowing an ice cube. After clearing her throat, she said, “No. I haven’t tried it.”

The very thought of Tinder—and the corresponding dating it aimed to deliver—caused her to break out in a sweat. She hated everything about dating: the departure from her comfortable routine, the conversation that was by turns inane and baffling, and again, the sex . . .
Her mother’s voice brightened with obvious interest. “That’s wonderful, beta. Your father and I were just saying last week how happy we’d be if you finally brought someone home. You know we don’t care about all that old nonsense — caste, religion, nothing. Your father is Rizwan, a proud Shia '. from a traditional family, and I’m Priya, a Sindhi ***** girl from the building next door. We were neighbours, fell in love, and fought the world together. If we could make it work, anyone can.”
Ayesha smiled softly. Her parents had always been like this — liberal at heart, even when the rest of the extended family raised eyebrows.
Priya continued warmly, “We gave you full permission long ago to follow your heart, Ayesha. Whether the boy is '., *****, Christian, from any state — as long as he treats you well and respects you, we are happy. No pressure for ‘same community’ shaadi. We just want you to be happy and not alone anymore.”

“I’ve been offered a promotion,” she said, hoping it would distract her mother.

“Another one?” her father asked, lowering his copy of the Economic Times so his wire-framed glasses were visible. “You were just promoted two quarters ago. That’s phenomenal.”

Ayesha perked up and scooted to the edge of her seat. “Our newest client—a large online vendor who shall remain nameless—provided the most amazing datasets, and I get to play with them all day. I designed an algorithm to help with some of their purchase suggestions. Apparently, it’s working better than expected.”

“When is the new promotion effective?” her father asked.

“Well . . .I didn’t accept the promotion. It was a principal statistician position that would have had five direct analysts beneath me and require much more client interaction. I just want to work on the data.”

Her mother batted that statement away with a negligent wave of her hand. “You’re getting complacent, Ayesha. If you stop challenging yourself, you’re not going to make any more improvement with your social skills. That reminds me, are there any coworkers at your company who you’d like to date?”

Her father set his newspaper down and folded his hands over his rounded belly. “Yes, what about that one fellow, Hameed mirza? When we met him at your last company get-together, he seemed nice enough.”

Her mother’s hands fluttered to her mouth like pigeons homing in on bread crumbs. “Oh, why didn’t I think of him? He was so polite. And easy on the eyes, too.”

“He’s okay, I guess.” Ayesha ran her fingertips over the condensation on her water glass. To be honest, she’d considered Hameed. He was conceited and abrasive, but he was a direct speaker. She really liked that in people. “I think he has several personality disorders.”

Her mother patted Ayesha’s hand. Instead of putting it back in her lap when she was done, she rested it over Ayesha’s knuckles. “Maybe he’ll be a good match for you, then, dear. With issues of his own to overcome, he might be more understanding of your Asperger’s.”

Though the words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, they sounded unnatural and loud to Ayesha’s ears. A quick glance at the neighboring tables in the restaurant’s canopied outdoor dining area reassured her that no one had heard, and she stared down at the hand on top of hers, consciously refraining from yanking it away. Uninvited touches irritated her, and her mother knew it. She did it to “acclimate” her. Mostly, it drove Ayesha crazy. Was it possible Hameed could understand that?

“I’ll think about him,” Ayesha said, and meant it. She hated lying and prevaricating even more than she hated sex. And, at the end of the day, she wanted to make her mother proud and happy. No matter what Ayesha did, she was always a few steps short of being successful in her mother’s eyes and therefore her own, too. A boyfriend would do that, she knew. The problem was she couldn’t keep a man for the life of her.

Her mother beamed. “Excellent. The next dinner I’m arranging is in a couple months on your fathers birthday, and I want you to bring a date this time. I’d love to see Mr.Hameed attending with you, but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll find someone.”

Ayesha thinned her lips. Her latest sexual experience had been with one of her mother’s blind dates. He is Aswin.. He’d been good-looking—she had to give him that—but his sense of humor had confused her. With him being a venture capitalist and her being an economist, they should have had a lot in common, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about his actual work. Instead, he’d preferred to discuss office politics and manipulation tactics, leaving her so lost she’d been certain the date was a failure.

When he’d straight-out asked her if she wanted to have sex with him, she’d been caught completely off guard. Because she hated to say no, she’d said yes. There’d been kissing, which she didn’t enjoy. He’d tasted like the lamb he’d had for dinner. She didn’t like lamb. His cologne had nauseated her, and he’d touched her all over. As it always did in intimate situations, her body had locked down. Before she knew it, he’d finished. He’d discarded his used condom in the trash can next to the hotel room’s desk—that had bothered her; surely he should know things like that went in the bathroom?—told her she needed to loosen up, and left. She could only imagine how disappointed her mother would be if she knew what a disaster her daughter was with men.

And now her mother wanted babies, too.

Ayesha got to her feet and gathered her purse. “I need to go to work now.” While she was ahead on all her deadlines, need was still the right word for it. Work fascinated her, channeled the furious craving in her brain. It was also thebangutic.

“That’s my girl,” her father said, standing up and brushing off his silk kurta before hugging her. “You’re going to own that place before long.”

As she gave him a quick hug—she didn’t mind touching when she initiated it or had time to mentally prepare for it—she breathed in the familiar scent of his aftershave. Why couldn’t all men be just like her father? He thought she was beautiful and brilliant, and his smell didn’t make her sick.

“You know her work is an unhealthy obsession, Rizwan. Don’t encourage her,” her mother said before she switched her attention to Ayesha and heaved a maternal sigh. “You should be out with people on the weekend. If you met more men, I know you’d find the right one.”

Her father pressed a cool kiss to her temple and whispered, “I wish I were working, too.”

Ayesha shook her head at him as her mother embraced her. The ropes of her mother’s ever-present pearls pressed into Ayesha’s sternum, and Chanel No. 5 swirled around her. She tolerated the cloying scent for three long seconds before stepping back.

“I’ll see you both next weekend. I love you. Bye.”

She waved at her parents before exiting the ‘Tresind’ restaurant and walked down sidewalks lined with palm trees and upscale shops. After three sunny blocks, she reached a low-rise office building in the Bandra-Kurla Complex that housed her favorite place in the world: her office. The left corner window on the third floor belonged to her.

The lock on the front door clicked open when she held her purse up to the sensor, and she strode into the empty building, enjoying the solitary echo of her high heels on the marble as she passed the vacant reception desk and stepped into the elevator.

Inside her office, she initiated her most beloved routine. First, she powered on her computer and entered her password into the prompt screen. As all the software booted up, she plopped her purse in her desk drawer and went to fill her cup with water from the kitchen. Her shoes came off, and she placed them in their regular spot under her desk. She sat.

Power, password, purse, water, shoes, sit. Always this order.

Statistics Analysis System, otherwise known as SAS, automatically loaded, and the three monitors on her desk filled with streams of data. Purchases, clicks, log-in times, payment types—simple things, really. But they told her more about people than people themselves ever did. She stretched out her fingers and set them on the black ergonomic keyboard, eager to lose herself in her work.

“Oh hi, Ayesha, I thought it might be you.”

She looked over her shoulder and was jarred by the unwelcome view of hameed peering around the door frame. The severe cut of his tawny hair emphasized his square jaw, and his polo shirt was tight across his chest. He looked fresh, sophisticated, and smart—precisely the kind of man her parents wanted for her. And he’d caught her working for pleasure on the weekend.

Her face heated, and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to pick up something that I forgot yesterday.” He extracted a box from a shopping bag and waved it at her. Ayesha caught sight of the word MANFORCE in giant letters. “Have a nice weekend. I know I will.”

Breakfast with her parents raced through her mind. Grandchildren, Hameed, the prospect of more blind dates, being successful. She licked her lips and hurried to say something, anything. “Did you really need an economy-sized box of those?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced.

He smirked his asshole smirk, but its annoyingness was softened by a show of strong white teeth. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to need half of these tonight since the boss’s new intern asked me out.”

Ayesha was impressed despite herself. The new girl looked so shy. Who would have thought she was so gutsy? “For dinner?”

“And more, I think,” he said with a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

“Why did you wait for her to ask you out? Why didn’t you ask her first?” She’d gotten the impression men liked to be initiators in matters like these. Was she wrong?

With impatient motions, Hameed stuffed an entire militia of ‘Manforce’ back in his shopping bag. “She’s fresh out of undergrad. I didn’t want to get accused of cradle robbing. Besides, I like girls who know what they want and go for it . . . especially in bed.” He swept an appraising gaze from her feet to her face, smiling like he could see through her clothes, and she stiffened with self-consciousness. “Tell me, are you still a virgin, Ayesha?”

She turned back to her computer screens, but the data refused to make sense. The cursor on the programming screen blinked. “It’s none of your business, but no, I’m not a virgin.”

He walked into her office, leaned a hip against her desk, and considered her in a skeptical manner. She adjusted her glasses even though they didn’t need it. “So our star statistician has ‘done it’ before. How many times? Three?”

No way was she going to tell him he’d guessed correctly. “None of your business, Hameed.”

“I bet you just lie there and run linear recursions in your head while a man does his business. Am I right, Ms. Ayesha?”

Ayesha would totally do that if she could figure out how to input gigabytes of data into her brain, but she’d rather die than admit it.

“A word of advice from a man who’s been around the block a few times: Get some practice. When you’re good at it, you like it better, and when you like it better, men like you better.” He pushed away from the desk and headed for the door, his bag of condoms swinging jauntily at his side. “Enjoy your endless week.”

As soon as he left, Ayesha stood up and shoved her door shut, using more force than was necessary. The door slammed with a hard, vibrating bang, and her heart stuttered. She smoothed damp hands over her pencil skirt as she brought her breathing back under control. When she sat down at her desk, she was too jittery to do more than stare at the blinking cursor.

Was Hameed right? Did she dislike sex because she was bad at it? Would practice really make perfect? What a beguiling concept. Maybe sex was just another interpersonal thing she needed to exert extra efforts on—like casual conversation, eye contact, and etiquette.

But how exactly did you practice sex? It wasn’t like men were throwing themselves at her like women apparently did to Hameed. When she did manage to sleep with a man, he was so put off by the lackluster experience that once was more than enough for both of them.

Also, this was Mumbai, the kingdom of tech geniuses and scientists in the Bandra-Kurla Complex. The single men available were probably as hopeless in bed as she was. With her luck, she’d sleep with a statistically significant population of them and have nothing to show for it but crotch burn and STDs.

No, what Ayesha needed was a professional.

Not only were they certified disease-free, but they had proven track records. At least, she assumed so. That was how she’d run things if she were in that business. Regular men were incentivized by things like personality, humor, and hot sex—things she didn’t have. Professionals were incentivized by money. Ayesha happened to have a lot of money.

Instead of working on her shiny new dataset, Ayesha opened up her browser and Googled “Mumbai male escort service.”]]>

Innocence:

I know you hate surprises, Ayesha. In the interests of communicating our expectations and providing you a reasonable timeline, you should know we’re ready for grandchildren.”

Ayesha Naz’s gaze jumped from her breakfast up to her mother’s gracefully aging face. A subtle application of makeup drew attention to battle-ready, coffee-colored eyes. That boded ill for Ayesha. When her mother got something into her mind, she was like a honey badger with a vendetta—pugnacious and tenacious, but without the snarling and fur.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ayesha said.

Shock gave way to rapid-fire, panic-scrambled thoughts. Grandchildren meant babies. And diapers. Mountains of diapers. Exploding diapers. And babies cried,that even the best sound-canceling headphones couldn’t buffer. How did they cry so long and hard when they were so little? Plus, babies meant husbands. Husbands meant boyfriends. Boyfriends meant dating. Dating meant sex. She shuddered.

“You’re thirty, Ayesha dear. We’re concerned that you’re still single. Have you tried Tinder?”
She grabbed her water and gulped down a mouthful, accidentally swallowing an ice cube. After clearing her throat, she said, “No. I haven’t tried it.”

The very thought of Tinder—and the corresponding dating it aimed to deliver—caused her to break out in a sweat. She hated everything about dating: the departure from her comfortable routine, the conversation that was by turns inane and baffling, and again, the sex . . .
Her mother’s voice brightened with obvious interest. “That’s wonderful, beta. Your father and I were just saying last week how happy we’d be if you finally brought someone home. You know we don’t care about all that old nonsense — caste, religion, nothing. Your father is Rizwan, a proud Shia '. from a traditional family, and I’m Priya, a Sindhi ***** girl from the building next door. We were neighbours, fell in love, and fought the world together. If we could make it work, anyone can.”
Ayesha smiled softly. Her parents had always been like this — liberal at heart, even when the rest of the extended family raised eyebrows.
Priya continued warmly, “We gave you full permission long ago to follow your heart, Ayesha. Whether the boy is '., *****, Christian, from any state — as long as he treats you well and respects you, we are happy. No pressure for ‘same community’ shaadi. We just want you to be happy and not alone anymore.”

“I’ve been offered a promotion,” she said, hoping it would distract her mother.

“Another one?” her father asked, lowering his copy of the Economic Times so his wire-framed glasses were visible. “You were just promoted two quarters ago. That’s phenomenal.”

Ayesha perked up and scooted to the edge of her seat. “Our newest client—a large online vendor who shall remain nameless—provided the most amazing datasets, and I get to play with them all day. I designed an algorithm to help with some of their purchase suggestions. Apparently, it’s working better than expected.”

“When is the new promotion effective?” her father asked.

“Well . . .I didn’t accept the promotion. It was a principal statistician position that would have had five direct analysts beneath me and require much more client interaction. I just want to work on the data.”

Her mother batted that statement away with a negligent wave of her hand. “You’re getting complacent, Ayesha. If you stop challenging yourself, you’re not going to make any more improvement with your social skills. That reminds me, are there any coworkers at your company who you’d like to date?”

Her father set his newspaper down and folded his hands over his rounded belly. “Yes, what about that one fellow, Hameed mirza? When we met him at your last company get-together, he seemed nice enough.”

Her mother’s hands fluttered to her mouth like pigeons homing in on bread crumbs. “Oh, why didn’t I think of him? He was so polite. And easy on the eyes, too.”

“He’s okay, I guess.” Ayesha ran her fingertips over the condensation on her water glass. To be honest, she’d considered Hameed. He was conceited and abrasive, but he was a direct speaker. She really liked that in people. “I think he has several personality disorders.”

Her mother patted Ayesha’s hand. Instead of putting it back in her lap when she was done, she rested it over Ayesha’s knuckles. “Maybe he’ll be a good match for you, then, dear. With issues of his own to overcome, he might be more understanding of your Asperger’s.”

Though the words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, they sounded unnatural and loud to Ayesha’s ears. A quick glance at the neighboring tables in the restaurant’s canopied outdoor dining area reassured her that no one had heard, and she stared down at the hand on top of hers, consciously refraining from yanking it away. Uninvited touches irritated her, and her mother knew it. She did it to “acclimate” her. Mostly, it drove Ayesha crazy. Was it possible Hameed could understand that?

“I’ll think about him,” Ayesha said, and meant it. She hated lying and prevaricating even more than she hated sex. And, at the end of the day, she wanted to make her mother proud and happy. No matter what Ayesha did, she was always a few steps short of being successful in her mother’s eyes and therefore her own, too. A boyfriend would do that, she knew. The problem was she couldn’t keep a man for the life of her.

Her mother beamed. “Excellent. The next dinner I’m arranging is in a couple months on your fathers birthday, and I want you to bring a date this time. I’d love to see Mr.Hameed attending with you, but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll find someone.”

Ayesha thinned her lips. Her latest sexual experience had been with one of her mother’s blind dates. He is Aswin.. He’d been good-looking—she had to give him that—but his sense of humor had confused her. With him being a venture capitalist and her being an economist, they should have had a lot in common, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about his actual work. Instead, he’d preferred to discuss office politics and manipulation tactics, leaving her so lost she’d been certain the date was a failure.

When he’d straight-out asked her if she wanted to have sex with him, she’d been caught completely off guard. Because she hated to say no, she’d said yes. There’d been kissing, which she didn’t enjoy. He’d tasted like the lamb he’d had for dinner. She didn’t like lamb. His cologne had nauseated her, and he’d touched her all over. As it always did in intimate situations, her body had locked down. Before she knew it, he’d finished. He’d discarded his used condom in the trash can next to the hotel room’s desk—that had bothered her; surely he should know things like that went in the bathroom?—told her she needed to loosen up, and left. She could only imagine how disappointed her mother would be if she knew what a disaster her daughter was with men.

And now her mother wanted babies, too.

Ayesha got to her feet and gathered her purse. “I need to go to work now.” While she was ahead on all her deadlines, need was still the right word for it. Work fascinated her, channeled the furious craving in her brain. It was also thebangutic.

“That’s my girl,” her father said, standing up and brushing off his silk kurta before hugging her. “You’re going to own that place before long.”

As she gave him a quick hug—she didn’t mind touching when she initiated it or had time to mentally prepare for it—she breathed in the familiar scent of his aftershave. Why couldn’t all men be just like her father? He thought she was beautiful and brilliant, and his smell didn’t make her sick.

“You know her work is an unhealthy obsession, Rizwan. Don’t encourage her,” her mother said before she switched her attention to Ayesha and heaved a maternal sigh. “You should be out with people on the weekend. If you met more men, I know you’d find the right one.”

Her father pressed a cool kiss to her temple and whispered, “I wish I were working, too.”

Ayesha shook her head at him as her mother embraced her. The ropes of her mother’s ever-present pearls pressed into Ayesha’s sternum, and Chanel No. 5 swirled around her. She tolerated the cloying scent for three long seconds before stepping back.

“I’ll see you both next weekend. I love you. Bye.”

She waved at her parents before exiting the ‘Tresind’ restaurant and walked down sidewalks lined with palm trees and upscale shops. After three sunny blocks, she reached a low-rise office building in the Bandra-Kurla Complex that housed her favorite place in the world: her office. The left corner window on the third floor belonged to her.

The lock on the front door clicked open when she held her purse up to the sensor, and she strode into the empty building, enjoying the solitary echo of her high heels on the marble as she passed the vacant reception desk and stepped into the elevator.

Inside her office, she initiated her most beloved routine. First, she powered on her computer and entered her password into the prompt screen. As all the software booted up, she plopped her purse in her desk drawer and went to fill her cup with water from the kitchen. Her shoes came off, and she placed them in their regular spot under her desk. She sat.

Power, password, purse, water, shoes, sit. Always this order.

Statistics Analysis System, otherwise known as SAS, automatically loaded, and the three monitors on her desk filled with streams of data. Purchases, clicks, log-in times, payment types—simple things, really. But they told her more about people than people themselves ever did. She stretched out her fingers and set them on the black ergonomic keyboard, eager to lose herself in her work.

“Oh hi, Ayesha, I thought it might be you.”

She looked over her shoulder and was jarred by the unwelcome view of hameed peering around the door frame. The severe cut of his tawny hair emphasized his square jaw, and his polo shirt was tight across his chest. He looked fresh, sophisticated, and smart—precisely the kind of man her parents wanted for her. And he’d caught her working for pleasure on the weekend.

Her face heated, and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to pick up something that I forgot yesterday.” He extracted a box from a shopping bag and waved it at her. Ayesha caught sight of the word MANFORCE in giant letters. “Have a nice weekend. I know I will.”

Breakfast with her parents raced through her mind. Grandchildren, Hameed, the prospect of more blind dates, being successful. She licked her lips and hurried to say something, anything. “Did you really need an economy-sized box of those?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced.

He smirked his asshole smirk, but its annoyingness was softened by a show of strong white teeth. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to need half of these tonight since the boss’s new intern asked me out.”

Ayesha was impressed despite herself. The new girl looked so shy. Who would have thought she was so gutsy? “For dinner?”

“And more, I think,” he said with a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

“Why did you wait for her to ask you out? Why didn’t you ask her first?” She’d gotten the impression men liked to be initiators in matters like these. Was she wrong?

With impatient motions, Hameed stuffed an entire militia of ‘Manforce’ back in his shopping bag. “She’s fresh out of undergrad. I didn’t want to get accused of cradle robbing. Besides, I like girls who know what they want and go for it . . . especially in bed.” He swept an appraising gaze from her feet to her face, smiling like he could see through her clothes, and she stiffened with self-consciousness. “Tell me, are you still a virgin, Ayesha?”

She turned back to her computer screens, but the data refused to make sense. The cursor on the programming screen blinked. “It’s none of your business, but no, I’m not a virgin.”

He walked into her office, leaned a hip against her desk, and considered her in a skeptical manner. She adjusted her glasses even though they didn’t need it. “So our star statistician has ‘done it’ before. How many times? Three?”

No way was she going to tell him he’d guessed correctly. “None of your business, Hameed.”

“I bet you just lie there and run linear recursions in your head while a man does his business. Am I right, Ms. Ayesha?”

Ayesha would totally do that if she could figure out how to input gigabytes of data into her brain, but she’d rather die than admit it.

“A word of advice from a man who’s been around the block a few times: Get some practice. When you’re good at it, you like it better, and when you like it better, men like you better.” He pushed away from the desk and headed for the door, his bag of condoms swinging jauntily at his side. “Enjoy your endless week.”

As soon as he left, Ayesha stood up and shoved her door shut, using more force than was necessary. The door slammed with a hard, vibrating bang, and her heart stuttered. She smoothed damp hands over her pencil skirt as she brought her breathing back under control. When she sat down at her desk, she was too jittery to do more than stare at the blinking cursor.

Was Hameed right? Did she dislike sex because she was bad at it? Would practice really make perfect? What a beguiling concept. Maybe sex was just another interpersonal thing she needed to exert extra efforts on—like casual conversation, eye contact, and etiquette.

But how exactly did you practice sex? It wasn’t like men were throwing themselves at her like women apparently did to Hameed. When she did manage to sleep with a man, he was so put off by the lackluster experience that once was more than enough for both of them.

Also, this was Mumbai, the kingdom of tech geniuses and scientists in the Bandra-Kurla Complex. The single men available were probably as hopeless in bed as she was. With her luck, she’d sleep with a statistically significant population of them and have nothing to show for it but crotch burn and STDs.

No, what Ayesha needed was a professional.

Not only were they certified disease-free, but they had proven track records. At least, she assumed so. That was how she’d run things if she were in that business. Regular men were incentivized by things like personality, humor, and hot sex—things she didn’t have. Professionals were incentivized by money. Ayesha happened to have a lot of money.

Instead of working on her shiny new dataset, Ayesha opened up her browser and Googled “Mumbai male escort service.”]]> <![CDATA[Beautiful Family]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73849.html Thu, 28 May 2026 09:04:42 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73849.html I grew up as the second child, but the oldest boy. My older sister was a
bit careless and irresponsible, even for a kid, so I was usually left in
charge when my parents were away, which was often because they had to
work multiple jobs. Laura was the eldest and a year older than I. Benny
was a year younger than I, and Sophie was a year younger than him.

Laura and I hit puberty around the same time and we both started
developing. Laura was 5'4", had a cute face, green eyes like mine,
with an hourglass-shaped body, breasts the size of gbangfruits, a thin
waist, and a nice, toned butt that stuck out. When her breasts came in, I
couldn't help but stare. She caught me looking a few times and would just
wink, which made me blush.

I felt awkward growing into my body. I grew over a foot that year, my
stomach flattened, muscles developed, and I grew a nice bubblebutt from
years of swimming and running. My dick was always hard and I felt like
everyone could see; as it turned out, they could because I carried nearly
8" and was thick. My Mom even commented about the size one night when she
and Dad were in their room. I lived in the basement and my room was
beneath theirs; we shared a duct so their voices could be easily heard in
my room. I started noticing girls and they noticed me, but I also caught
myself checking out the other boys on my swim team in their Speedos. I
also noticed adults checking me out and at swimming meets, my ass got
constantly groped and touched.

Looking back, I should've flaunted myself around, but I felt weird and I
was shy outside of the house.

I loved to swim, though, and we had a large pool in the backyard. I'd
spend most of my time out there.

One morning, I came home from a long run, threw on a Speedo, and started
doing laps. I had finished with my first mile when the sliding glass door
opened and my older sister came running out with a group of her
girlfriends and some high college boys. `Time for me to go,' I thought.
Most of her friends were just as hot as she was, but they were also
annoying as all hell.

I couldn't help but check them out as I walked back to the house. Laura's
fair skin contrasted against her black string thong bikini. My cock was
semi-hard and bulged in my swimsuit. I could feel them staring at me and
I started to get hard, so I walked quickly into the house.

Sometime later, I was in the kitchen, still in my Speedo only, when I
looked outside. Two girls were in the hot tub kissing and the other girls
had paired off with one of the high college boys and were making out.
Laura and the oldest boy were standing against a tree, kissing, and his
hands were sliding down from her back to her pert butt.

I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard Laura yell. I stepped outside to
see that her top had been untied and her breast spilled out, and the
eldest boy's hand was shoved down the front of her bikini bottom.

"Stop, I said!" She yelled, "Let go of me!"

"It's okay, baby," he said, overpowering her, "Just go with it."

"HEY!" I yelled.

"Mind your own business, pipsqueak," he said, not even looking at me, but
he had kept an iron grip and held my sister tight.

He didn't see or hear me until one of his friends yelled out a warning.
He turned his head just in time for my fist to impact his cheek. We went
to the ground, and I just started pummeling him in the face. It took two
of his boys to pull me off, but when they did, I kicked him in the nuts
as hard as I could.

Laura, in the meantime, had run into the house crying. When I was dragged
off the boy who had attacked her, I told everyone else to go home or I
was calling the cops. They grabbed their clothes and ran for the side
gate.

I found Laura sitting on her bed crying; her breasts were fully exposed,
but she didn't seem to care that I could see them.

"I thought he liked me," she said, sobbing into her hands, "But he let it
slip that he had a bet with his friends about who could get my
virginity."

I just held her as she cried. Then I told her to take a nap and rest, but
when I tried to leave, she asked me to stay. I climbed into bed behind
her, and she pulled my arm around and hugged it tight to her chest. She
then backed up into me so that our bodies were touching. My cock was
immediately hard as she rubbed her thong-clad ass against my bulging
Speedo. Soon she was breathing softly. As I got out of bed, I let my hand
slide over her full breast. I could feel her nipple was as hard as a
diamond.

Laura and I were the only ones home this weekend, as Mom and Dad had
taken Benny and Sophie with them to a work conference Dad had in Las
Vegas. I cooked us dinner, then put her food onto a tray and took it to
her room. She sat up in bed and I got another good glimpse of her breasts
as I set down the tray. She noticed me staring and just smirked. I left
her to eat and went to my parents' room to use the Master shower.

I pulled my Speedo down and my 8" cock sprang out. I turned the shower on
full blast and let the hot water clean my smooth body. Being a swimmer, I
kept myself completely hairless and the water felt great caressing my
teen body. I closed my eyes, played with my nipples, and stroked my meat.

* * *

Laura stood at the doorway watching her brother shower. `His cock is
massive!' Laura thought to herself. She felt a tingling in her vagina.
She stuck her fingers down the front of her bikini bottoms and found them
soaking wet. Her little brother David almost caught her because she was
enjoying the feeling of rubbing her virgin pussy lips, and she didn't
notice he had turned the shower off. Luckily, the lights were off and she
was able to slip away. She hid just within the doorway of her bedroom and
waited for David to pass by and head to his room in the basement of the
house.

* * *

I was lying in bed, stroking my hard cock, when I heard the stairs
creaking. I covered myself and turned on my side away from my doorway.

"David?" I heard Laura whisper, "Are you awake?"

When I didn't answer, she pulled my blankets down. When she grasped my
cock I let out an involuntary gasp and turned towards her. She straddled
me and I felt her pussy lips resting on my rigid cock. She was wet down
there, I could feel it, and it made my dick slick. Before I could say
anything, she was lying on me and kissed me fully on the mouth. My mouth
opened to hers and our tongues wrestled with each other and explored each
other's mouths.

"You were so good to me today," she said, grinding herself against my
cock, covering it in her sweet juices, "It's my turn to be good to you."

Before I knew what was happening, she crawled backward until she knelt
between my legs and she firmly gripped my aching cock. She started slowly
stroking it with both hands as she couldn't get her fingers around it
with just one hand.

"It's SO big," Laura cooed and licked the length of my shaft.

She put the head of my cock into her mouth and sucked on it like it was a
piece of candy. I tried to shove more of it into her mouth, but could not
fit it. It was so dark in my room, all I could do was listen as she
gurgled and choked a little bit on my girth. When she had first started
sucking on my cock, I had just lain back and moaned.

'My God,' I thought, 'My sister is naked with me and sucking my dick.'
Then another one shot into my brain, "Holy fuck! My sister is sucking my
dick! What if we're caught?! What if Mom and Dad find out?!'

"Mmmmmm," I moaned in such pleasure that it overwhelmed my mind,
"Ooohhh...oh - oh God!"

My body tensed and I sent rope after rope of semen into my sister's
mouth. It caught her by surprise and most of it dribbled out of her mouth
onto me or my bed. She swallowed what she could, and she wiped off her
face with my sheet.

Laura straddled my stomach and she let me play with her boobs. They were
perfectly shaped and while I played with one, I sucked on the other. Her
pink nipples were rock hard. Laura moaned and ran her fingers through my
hair.

"That's it, lil' brother," she moaned, "Suck on my titties."

While I continued to suckle her, my hands roamed around to her backside
and grasped onto her tight butt, massaging it. After a few more minutes,
she pulled away and crouched over my cock. I was leaking pretty heavily,
and she was soaking wet. When she guided my cock to her virgin pussy
lips, I was almost ready to blow again. When my cockhead penetrated her
for the first time, she let out a whimper and a yelp.

"You're-you're so big," she groaned, and I could feel her body trembling.

She could only take about half of my cock into her pussy. She held
herself there for a moment, just getting used to the size of my cock. She
then slowly raised and lowered herself on my cock, moaning the entire
time. By the fifth time she came down on my dick, I ejaculated and blew a
large load into my sister.

We lay there in bed, cuddling, and she lay on me with her head on my
chest. I was just about to fall asleep when it hit me. I expressed my
fear of getting her pregnant and she said not to worry about that. I
wanted to say more, but she said she had it taken care of and kissed me.
I fell asleep holding my sister in my arms.]]> I grew up as the second child, but the oldest boy. My older sister was a
bit careless and irresponsible, even for a kid, so I was usually left in
charge when my parents were away, which was often because they had to
work multiple jobs. Laura was the eldest and a year older than I. Benny
was a year younger than I, and Sophie was a year younger than him.

Laura and I hit puberty around the same time and we both started
developing. Laura was 5'4", had a cute face, green eyes like mine,
with an hourglass-shaped body, breasts the size of gbangfruits, a thin
waist, and a nice, toned butt that stuck out. When her breasts came in, I
couldn't help but stare. She caught me looking a few times and would just
wink, which made me blush.

I felt awkward growing into my body. I grew over a foot that year, my
stomach flattened, muscles developed, and I grew a nice bubblebutt from
years of swimming and running. My dick was always hard and I felt like
everyone could see; as it turned out, they could because I carried nearly
8" and was thick. My Mom even commented about the size one night when she
and Dad were in their room. I lived in the basement and my room was
beneath theirs; we shared a duct so their voices could be easily heard in
my room. I started noticing girls and they noticed me, but I also caught
myself checking out the other boys on my swim team in their Speedos. I
also noticed adults checking me out and at swimming meets, my ass got
constantly groped and touched.

Looking back, I should've flaunted myself around, but I felt weird and I
was shy outside of the house.

I loved to swim, though, and we had a large pool in the backyard. I'd
spend most of my time out there.

One morning, I came home from a long run, threw on a Speedo, and started
doing laps. I had finished with my first mile when the sliding glass door
opened and my older sister came running out with a group of her
girlfriends and some high college boys. `Time for me to go,' I thought.
Most of her friends were just as hot as she was, but they were also
annoying as all hell.

I couldn't help but check them out as I walked back to the house. Laura's
fair skin contrasted against her black string thong bikini. My cock was
semi-hard and bulged in my swimsuit. I could feel them staring at me and
I started to get hard, so I walked quickly into the house.

Sometime later, I was in the kitchen, still in my Speedo only, when I
looked outside. Two girls were in the hot tub kissing and the other girls
had paired off with one of the high college boys and were making out.
Laura and the oldest boy were standing against a tree, kissing, and his
hands were sliding down from her back to her pert butt.

I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard Laura yell. I stepped outside to
see that her top had been untied and her breast spilled out, and the
eldest boy's hand was shoved down the front of her bikini bottom.

"Stop, I said!" She yelled, "Let go of me!"

"It's okay, baby," he said, overpowering her, "Just go with it."

"HEY!" I yelled.

"Mind your own business, pipsqueak," he said, not even looking at me, but
he had kept an iron grip and held my sister tight.

He didn't see or hear me until one of his friends yelled out a warning.
He turned his head just in time for my fist to impact his cheek. We went
to the ground, and I just started pummeling him in the face. It took two
of his boys to pull me off, but when they did, I kicked him in the nuts
as hard as I could.

Laura, in the meantime, had run into the house crying. When I was dragged
off the boy who had attacked her, I told everyone else to go home or I
was calling the cops. They grabbed their clothes and ran for the side
gate.

I found Laura sitting on her bed crying; her breasts were fully exposed,
but she didn't seem to care that I could see them.

"I thought he liked me," she said, sobbing into her hands, "But he let it
slip that he had a bet with his friends about who could get my
virginity."

I just held her as she cried. Then I told her to take a nap and rest, but
when I tried to leave, she asked me to stay. I climbed into bed behind
her, and she pulled my arm around and hugged it tight to her chest. She
then backed up into me so that our bodies were touching. My cock was
immediately hard as she rubbed her thong-clad ass against my bulging
Speedo. Soon she was breathing softly. As I got out of bed, I let my hand
slide over her full breast. I could feel her nipple was as hard as a
diamond.

Laura and I were the only ones home this weekend, as Mom and Dad had
taken Benny and Sophie with them to a work conference Dad had in Las
Vegas. I cooked us dinner, then put her food onto a tray and took it to
her room. She sat up in bed and I got another good glimpse of her breasts
as I set down the tray. She noticed me staring and just smirked. I left
her to eat and went to my parents' room to use the Master shower.

I pulled my Speedo down and my 8" cock sprang out. I turned the shower on
full blast and let the hot water clean my smooth body. Being a swimmer, I
kept myself completely hairless and the water felt great caressing my
teen body. I closed my eyes, played with my nipples, and stroked my meat.

* * *

Laura stood at the doorway watching her brother shower. `His cock is
massive!' Laura thought to herself. She felt a tingling in her vagina.
She stuck her fingers down the front of her bikini bottoms and found them
soaking wet. Her little brother David almost caught her because she was
enjoying the feeling of rubbing her virgin pussy lips, and she didn't
notice he had turned the shower off. Luckily, the lights were off and she
was able to slip away. She hid just within the doorway of her bedroom and
waited for David to pass by and head to his room in the basement of the
house.

* * *

I was lying in bed, stroking my hard cock, when I heard the stairs
creaking. I covered myself and turned on my side away from my doorway.

"David?" I heard Laura whisper, "Are you awake?"

When I didn't answer, she pulled my blankets down. When she grasped my
cock I let out an involuntary gasp and turned towards her. She straddled
me and I felt her pussy lips resting on my rigid cock. She was wet down
there, I could feel it, and it made my dick slick. Before I could say
anything, she was lying on me and kissed me fully on the mouth. My mouth
opened to hers and our tongues wrestled with each other and explored each
other's mouths.

"You were so good to me today," she said, grinding herself against my
cock, covering it in her sweet juices, "It's my turn to be good to you."

Before I knew what was happening, she crawled backward until she knelt
between my legs and she firmly gripped my aching cock. She started slowly
stroking it with both hands as she couldn't get her fingers around it
with just one hand.

"It's SO big," Laura cooed and licked the length of my shaft.

She put the head of my cock into her mouth and sucked on it like it was a
piece of candy. I tried to shove more of it into her mouth, but could not
fit it. It was so dark in my room, all I could do was listen as she
gurgled and choked a little bit on my girth. When she had first started
sucking on my cock, I had just lain back and moaned.

'My God,' I thought, 'My sister is naked with me and sucking my dick.'
Then another one shot into my brain, "Holy fuck! My sister is sucking my
dick! What if we're caught?! What if Mom and Dad find out?!'

"Mmmmmm," I moaned in such pleasure that it overwhelmed my mind,
"Ooohhh...oh - oh God!"

My body tensed and I sent rope after rope of semen into my sister's
mouth. It caught her by surprise and most of it dribbled out of her mouth
onto me or my bed. She swallowed what she could, and she wiped off her
face with my sheet.

Laura straddled my stomach and she let me play with her boobs. They were
perfectly shaped and while I played with one, I sucked on the other. Her
pink nipples were rock hard. Laura moaned and ran her fingers through my
hair.

"That's it, lil' brother," she moaned, "Suck on my titties."

While I continued to suckle her, my hands roamed around to her backside
and grasped onto her tight butt, massaging it. After a few more minutes,
she pulled away and crouched over my cock. I was leaking pretty heavily,
and she was soaking wet. When she guided my cock to her virgin pussy
lips, I was almost ready to blow again. When my cockhead penetrated her
for the first time, she let out a whimper and a yelp.

"You're-you're so big," she groaned, and I could feel her body trembling.

She could only take about half of my cock into her pussy. She held
herself there for a moment, just getting used to the size of my cock. She
then slowly raised and lowered herself on my cock, moaning the entire
time. By the fifth time she came down on my dick, I ejaculated and blew a
large load into my sister.

We lay there in bed, cuddling, and she lay on me with her head on my
chest. I was just about to fall asleep when it hit me. I expressed my
fear of getting her pregnant and she said not to worry about that. I
wanted to say more, but she said she had it taken care of and kissed me.
I fell asleep holding my sister in my arms.]]> <![CDATA[my reverse cuck fetish for my husband and her bhatiji]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73826.html Tue, 26 May 2026 12:18:07 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73826.html <![CDATA[searching for a story - "its women who rules in men world, BY WHOOLETTHEDOGSOUT"]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73809.html Sun, 24 May 2026 23:49:00 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73809.html can someone help finding an old story
it was by the following title

its women who rules in men world

and posted by

whooletthedogsout]]> can someone help finding an old story
it was by the following title

its women who rules in men world

and posted by

whooletthedogsout]]> <![CDATA[His wife, Her secrets: Rain,Whiskey and Temptation (CH:55 HOT)]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73798.html Sat, 23 May 2026 22:24:27 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73798.html Disclaimer:
This story explores intimacy, emotional conflict, jealousy, marriage, and human vulnerability in a fictional setting. Some scenes, conversations, or decisions made by the characters may feel uncomfortable, frustrating, or emotionally disturbing to certain readers.

The characters are flawed, impulsive, and emotionally complicated. Their actions are not written to promote any lifestyle or moral viewpoint, but to explore desire, loneliness, attachment, and the consequences of choice.

Most importantly — this is fiction.

Or at least… hopefully fiction.

And if at any point the story feels a little too real, a little too personal, or reminds you of people you know…

Please spare the author.

Sometimes fiction only works because reality already taught us how people behave behind closed doors.]]> Disclaimer:
This story explores intimacy, emotional conflict, jealousy, marriage, and human vulnerability in a fictional setting. Some scenes, conversations, or decisions made by the characters may feel uncomfortable, frustrating, or emotionally disturbing to certain readers.

The characters are flawed, impulsive, and emotionally complicated. Their actions are not written to promote any lifestyle or moral viewpoint, but to explore desire, loneliness, attachment, and the consequences of choice.

Most importantly — this is fiction.

Or at least… hopefully fiction.

And if at any point the story feels a little too real, a little too personal, or reminds you of people you know…

Please spare the author.

Sometimes fiction only works because reality already taught us how people behave behind closed doors.]]> <![CDATA[Car driver Iqbal's daughter Fathima weds Business magnet Manohar's son Rahul]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73793.html Sat, 23 May 2026 06:59:56 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73793.html Welcome to yet another exciting story, this time I am trying a different genre which is the favorite of many here and I have been getting lot of requests to touch upon this genre and hence took courage to pen this story

Keep your expectations down to reality and I will do my best to satisfy most of you. Beyond the obvious thread of conflict between two sets of people , like my all stories, I touch upon the human emotions and the reasons for seeking pleasure in the way the characters look for. As usual you can see bonding between mom and son, dad and daughter, bro and sister. There is some revenge and bad guys also in the story, obviously to make the whole story engaging.

I try to give justice to ALL the characters as much and this is not going to be like Narsingh stories where every episode involves Narsingh, the old watchman. Here you see mix of combinations and emotions which means you may not see in some episodes what you would want to. But then this is a wholesome entertainer, not just limited to one genre

As usual I expect good amount of Likes, Comments, Rating from you

Don’t blame me later if I stop the story in the middle or hurry up at the end. Please understand the pain of writers here

Disclaimer:

This is a sex story involving different class people. Idea is to understand their emotions and if possible empathize with their belief system and not poke into one’s private space. All characters involved in sex are above 18 year old. There will be extreme humiliation, punishment, raw sex, curse words and sex between family members. Those who are not comfortable with these may leave now. All the pictures posted here are for illustration only, they may or may not depict the behaviour, age of the actual characters


Main Characters:

Fathima (F19)

Standing 5'6" tall and weighing 60 kilograms, she is a 19-year-old goddess of beauty, glowing with the radiant blush of a Kashmiri apple. Yet, her beauty remains perpetually veiled—visible to no one save her *Baba* (father) and *Bhayya* (brother). Beauty, innocence, and goodness are her greatest strengths.

Poverty is a curse upon her.

Beauty is a boon bestowed upon her.

In truth, though she is only 19 years old, her striking beauty makes her appear far more mature. Her life is one confined solely to the realms of her home and college—a life that has never known the world beyond.

In the eyes of all...

[Image: veil.jpg]

In the eyes of few

[Image: 1-kHR.jpg]

Haseena (F40)

A 40-Year-Old 'Good' Housekeeper

She performs any task without hesitation.

At home, she serves her husband... and serves her son.

Her goal is to provide that very same kind of service to the master of the house where she works.

At home...

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRWxg1zO0wT3lIfdlzt2ZF...EPSRAUGw&s]

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRWxg1zO0wT3lIfdlzt2ZF...EPSRAUGw&s]

In the house where she works

[Image: preview.jpg]

Iqbal (M50)

A 50-year-old car driver in Manohar’s house

He can navigate a car through narrow alleys of Hyderabad old city

He can thrust his cock into a tight hole as well

His strength: his daughter.

His weakness: an obsession with money.

He loves engaging in dirty talk with his employer's wife while driving her to go shopping.

Manohar Bhatia (M50)

A 50-year-old business magnate.

He rose to the top through sheer hard work; he holds a deep respect for money and an immense love for his family.

He possesses a ruthless streak: anyone who dares to deceive him faces his merciless wrath.

Although his wife loathed his "two-inch little fellow," his daughter embraced it with affection—which is precisely why he cherishes his daughter more than life itself. Fed up with his son's petty antics, he has firmly resolved to eventually entrust his entire business empire into his daughter's hands.

[Image: 7.jpg]

Shruthi

She is 18 years old... believe it or not—you have no choice! She looks 21, doesn't she? Her father is Manohar and her mother is from the Godavari region (Pavithra) —which is exactly why she turned out to be such a stunner. Her favorite pastime is teasing her dad at home and tormenting boys when she’s out and about.

She’s a cunning little vixen who firmly believes that her father’s entire fortune belongs solely to her.

And out in the real world... she loves toying with boys like they’re mere playthings.

[Image: Screenshot-2026-01-17-21-57-54-31-b86672...773d05.jpg]

[Image: Screenshot-2026-01-17-21-57-54-31-b86672...773d05.jpg]

At home, She has a habit of bathing with the bathroom door open when her dad is in the room

[Image: Kusuma-hand-shower.gif]

Pavithra (F45)

The fact that she managed to hook a man reveals just how shrewd she is. She stood by Manohar during his struggles and ensured that—once his business had flourished—he would marry her.

Finding no sexual fulfillment with her husband, "Bullipandu (small fruit)," she would occasionally seek gratification by toying with the virility of her growing son; she also found amusement in playful banter with the driver.

This was before her son had fully matured.

[Image: 20241109-064910.jpg]

After her son has grown up

[Image: 1719281418077.jpg]

(More characters in next episode)

]]> Welcome to yet another exciting story, this time I am trying a different genre which is the favorite of many here and I have been getting lot of requests to touch upon this genre and hence took courage to pen this story

Keep your expectations down to reality and I will do my best to satisfy most of you. Beyond the obvious thread of conflict between two sets of people , like my all stories, I touch upon the human emotions and the reasons for seeking pleasure in the way the characters look for. As usual you can see bonding between mom and son, dad and daughter, bro and sister. There is some revenge and bad guys also in the story, obviously to make the whole story engaging.

I try to give justice to ALL the characters as much and this is not going to be like Narsingh stories where every episode involves Narsingh, the old watchman. Here you see mix of combinations and emotions which means you may not see in some episodes what you would want to. But then this is a wholesome entertainer, not just limited to one genre

As usual I expect good amount of Likes, Comments, Rating from you

Don’t blame me later if I stop the story in the middle or hurry up at the end. Please understand the pain of writers here

Disclaimer:

This is a sex story involving different class people. Idea is to understand their emotions and if possible empathize with their belief system and not poke into one’s private space. All characters involved in sex are above 18 year old. There will be extreme humiliation, punishment, raw sex, curse words and sex between family members. Those who are not comfortable with these may leave now. All the pictures posted here are for illustration only, they may or may not depict the behaviour, age of the actual characters


Main Characters:

Fathima (F19)

Standing 5'6" tall and weighing 60 kilograms, she is a 19-year-old goddess of beauty, glowing with the radiant blush of a Kashmiri apple. Yet, her beauty remains perpetually veiled—visible to no one save her *Baba* (father) and *Bhayya* (brother). Beauty, innocence, and goodness are her greatest strengths.

Poverty is a curse upon her.

Beauty is a boon bestowed upon her.

In truth, though she is only 19 years old, her striking beauty makes her appear far more mature. Her life is one confined solely to the realms of her home and college—a life that has never known the world beyond.

In the eyes of all...

[Image: veil.jpg]

In the eyes of few

[Image: 1-kHR.jpg]

In the house where she works

[Image: preview.jpg]

Iqbal (M50)

At home, She has a habit of bathing with the bathroom door open when her dad is in the room

[Image: Kusuma-hand-shower.gif]

After her son has grown up

[Image: 1719281418077.jpg]

(More characters in next episode)

]]> <![CDATA[When We Were Married by DanielQSteele1]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73787.html Fri, 22 May 2026 07:53:47 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73787.html    When We Were Married     Written by :- DanielQSteele1


© Daniel Quentin Steele – 2010

Author's note:" There is a real State Attorney's Office headquartered in Jacksonville. Facts about locations and elements of the office organization has been changed, because it makes for a better story. This time I'm taking a chance by submitting without Lady Pine Rose's input since she's tied up elsewhere so I hope readers will forgive any mistakes on my part. As always, I hope readers enjoy the story and I welcome your input."

]]>    When We Were Married     Written by :- DanielQSteele1


© Daniel Quentin Steele – 2010

Author's note:" There is a real State Attorney's Office headquartered in Jacksonville. Facts about locations and elements of the office organization has been changed, because it makes for a better story. This time I'm taking a chance by submitting without Lady Pine Rose's input since she's tied up elsewhere so I hope readers will forgive any mistakes on my part. As always, I hope readers enjoy the story and I welcome your input."

]]> <![CDATA[Soumya's milfy adventures with Sharath]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73781.html Thu, 21 May 2026 17:32:13 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73781.html
The exhaust fan in the kitchen was on and was swinging rapidly. It was a humid March afternoon. The house was quite silent despite being a Sunday. Normally three people are present in the house on weekends but it seemed like the house was empty except for one. Here, she was, the beautiful MILF, Soumya.

But wait, she wasn't alone.. infact she was on her knees. Her bra straps were down as her nighty was on the floor. In front of her stood Sharath, a burly man slightly overweight but with tall with nice shoulders. He was completely naked and his 8 inch cock disappeared into Soumya's mouth

"Gluckk.. gluckkkk... gluckkk" her sounds were not loud but enough to tempt Sharath to fuck her mouth faster. Just as she was about to take his dick out of her and into her pussy was when her husband and son came home from shopping.

"We need to stop, Sharath" she whispered.
"I don't care about your husband, bitch. Stand up and keep your mouth shut" He demanded
"Please.... I can't control myself and will scream"
"A pativrata can keep herself calm to save her conservative character. Now spread your legs and lay down" ...
The banging began.... but how did it start?

Soumya, 45, a conservative Telugu housewife, was living in a bland family made up of her husband and two sons. Her sons were in college busy with their graduation degree. Her husband, Suresh, was your regular 50 year old telugu with a huge tummy and bald head.

Soumya, on the other hand, had some spark in her face despite her life as a housewife wearing mostly uninspiring saree that covers her whole. Behind it, though, she hid a treasure of some beautiful assets, her boobs, hips and ass. She never knew it herself until one fine day.

"Amma, the potatoes taste delicious," Vikrant said while eating his chapatti with his hands. His younger brother Surya immediately reacted to it by saying he too preferred it over pappu (lentils). Their father Suresh glanced at the newspaper without a thought in the world as his pot belly kept getting bigger.

Soumya didn’t react. She stood at the stove, stirring the sambar on a hot sunny morning. The kitchen was already boiling and sweat fell from her milky cheeks down her blouse as she kept on working to prepare the food. The boys would leave soon to their hostels while pursuing their engineering degree. Her husband is already assigned a contract and will leave to Pune to finalize it ....and she would scrub the dishes in silence, just like every other housewife.

The clatter of plates being stacked too loudly made Soumya's shoulders tense. Vikram was in a hurry, late for his bus again and she could already see it in the way he'd sprint down the street, his luggage in one hand and bag on his shoulders. She turned just in time to see Suresh fold his newspaper and was about to get ready for his assigned task. He turned to Soumya and said "Soumi, I'm going now. I'll return in a couple of days. Make sure you lock all doors at the evening and stay at home". The last words sounded patronising to Soumya. After all, she had studied until graduation and gave up a lucrative job opportunity in exchange for the marriage with Suresh that her parents arranged. She always thought to herself what it would've been like had she pursued her career instead. She always felt bounded by the patriarchal social walls that expected her to be a good wife. Her thoughts were shattered with Suresh saying "Hey, where are you lost? Go bring me the file that I put in the bedroom". "Oh, okay andi (a Telugu word similar to "ji")... wait let me bring it". Soumya walked in and the file was open. She closed it and while checking for a bag to put it in, she came across a visiting card that said "ADGH Gym. Lose your weight and also gain mental strength". Soumya was taken aback as she never expected Suresh to be interested in Gym and all. She wanted to ask about it but thought against it. Her husband soon left and now she was all alone in her flat with the leftover plates. She soon went to the kitchen with them and while cleaning she suddenly noticed the name of the gym "ADGH Gym"

After cleaning she, hesitantly, reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen. She hadn’t searched for anything unrelated to recipes or household tips in years. The letters "ADGH Gym" were visible as if she knew it for years. She reminded herself of the words her husband spoke "Stay at home". For some reason, Soumya felt she finally needs to break the custom. She needed an outlet. Here was an opportunity that was presented to her.

She typed the name slowly, her heart rate increasing unexpectedly. The search results loaded, a simple website, smiling faces of men and women in workout gear, mostly boys in gym shorts and girls in sweat pants, a promotional video of someone lifting weights. Soumya’s eyes lingered on the address: it's very close to my house, tucked between a park and a tea stall. She has gone to the park before but never saw the gym. "Must've been new. But what is the visiting card doing in my husband's file?" She checked the established year and it was only a year or so ago. "Maybe a promotional visiting card"

Soumya hesitated, fingers tapping against the phone screen. She glanced around the empty house almost involuntarily but luckily there was no one to judge her curiosity. She then clicked on the pictures of the gym inside. The photos were bright, filled with people who looked nothing like her: young, confident, their bodies in ways she’d only seen in films. One image though caught her eye, a man with broad shoulders helping a woman on a bench press, his hands hovering near the bar but not touching it. His profile was sharp, his arms were strong with muscle, and something about the way he smiled made her feel attracted. The caption read: "Sharath, Head Trainer"

She closed the tab abruptly, as if her husband has just appeared behind her. But the thought lingered. The gym was close by. The afternoon ahead was completely empty as she finished all of her work. Before she had second thoughts, Soumya changed into a simple saree loose enough to hide her shape and tucked her hair into a bun. She didn’t have workout clothes, didn’t even know if women like her were allowed there. But the card had said "mental strength" too, hadn’t it?

The gym’s entrance smelled faintly of perfume and sweat, the kind of sharpness that made Soumya’s nose wrinkle before she could stop herself. The receptionist, a girl who is the same age as Vikrant, barely glanced up from her phone as Soumya was near the desk, clutching her bag. “First time?” the girl asked. The girl looked attractive but somehow soumya didn’t like the way she was dressed as she was in a simple T-shirt and short jeans. And yet, forgetting it, Soumya nodded, suddenly aware of how out of place she looked in her very old looking saree, the pallu tucked too tightly over her chest.

“Trial session is free,” the girl said, sliding a clipboard across the counter. “Sign here.” Soumya hesitated, then scribbled her name in the sheet. She looked up and could see a few names of women. Then the other column asked for her phone number. She hesitated a little but went ahead and put her number down. As she put the pen down and ask what came next, a deep voice cut through the room despite the noise from the distant treadmills. “New client?”

Sharath stood with his arms crossed, his tank top clinging to muscles Soumya had only ever seen in movies. His skin glistened under the lights, and when he smiled, a dimple appeared on his left cheek. "First time at a gym?" he asked, his voice warmer than she expected. Soumya nodded as she kept the clipboard in her hand. "Don’t worry," he said, plucking it from her hands and handing it back to the receptionist without looking. "I’ll take care of you."

She followed him past rows of machines and mirrored walls, her reflection somehow looking smaller and her thoughts more uncertain with every step. Sharath stopped near a corner where a yoga mat lay unrolled. "We’ll start slow," he said, kneeling to adjust the mat. "Just some stretches." Soumya hesitated, then sat, folding her legs beneath her. Sharath chuckled. "Not like that." He guided her ankles apart with two fingers, his touch despite being light was extremely firm and she almost felt a jolt inside her. "Breathe in." He said and she did, and when she exhaled, his palm was gently put on her lower back, urging her forward. The stretch burned in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

The stretch deepened as Soumya's breath was hitching as Sharath's fingers continued to rest on her spine. "You're flexible for a beginner," he murmured, his voice low but hearble enough. Soumya blushed despite being unsure if it was praise or something else. "I....I used to dance in college," she admitted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Sharath's eyebrows lifted. "Bharatanatyam?" he asked, his thumb slightly brushing her waist where her saree had slightly opened up to show her skin. Soumya let out a slow "ahhh" inside of herself.

"Beautiful," Sharath said, though he wasn't looking at her face. He shifted closer, the heat of his body almost noticeable even through her saree. "You should try some hip-opening poses. They'd suit you." It was an innuendo but she was getting slightly turned on by the entire situation. Soumya swallowed, suddenly aware of how alone they were in this corner. "I... I should go," she said, straightening abruptly. Sharath's hand caught her wrist, his grip just shy of painful. "So soon?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You haven't even told me about yourself."

Soumya hesitated, then looked around, "I'm married. Two sons, both in college." The words she thought were a shield to protect her from all the corrupt thoughts, a reminder to herself about the life that she has. Sharath's grip loosened, but his expression did change. A flicker of surprise, then something darker, calculating. "Married?" He let the word linger, his gaze slowly dropping below to her mangalsutra. "And yet here you are." He said quietly, almost too quiet

Sharath leaned back on his heels, pretending to study the yoga mat. Inside, his mind raced. "Married slut? Easy to tap." He'd seen it before bored housewives looking for adventure, their morality as flimsy as their excuses. The tryst he had with Radha, the 35 year old he had fucked so badly that she almost left her husband for him. But Soumya was different. The way her saree clung to her hips, the nervous bite of her lower lip, she wasn't here for validation. She was hungry. And Sharath knew exactly how to feed that hunger.

"Tell me, Soumya," he said, deliberately using her name, "when was the last time someone touched you just for you?" The question hung between them, it appeared vulgar but Sharath's handsome body and face made it look like a straightforward question. Soumya's breath caught. Suresh's hands were practical quick gropes in the dark, his focus always on his own release. Sharath saw the answer in her silence. He stood, offering a hand to help her up. When she took it, he didn't let go. "Come back tomorrow," he said, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "I'll show you what your body's really capable of"

Soumya left the place and went home. She couldn't understand what just happened. How did she leave the peaceful no nonsense life of her own and ended up getting involved in flirting with a much younger guy. In the evening, after a call from her husband, she lied on her bed. Just then, she thought of the episode at the gym. Sharath tracing his fingers around her waist. Instead of getting angry she got aroused and within a minute or so she had an absolutely incredible orgasm without anyone even touching her, something Suresh never ever did..

Meanwhile in the gym, it was pitch dark and Ravali was getting absolutely fucked in doggystyle. Her screams were too loud and there was none who could hear it out. Just as Sharath was increasing the pace, Ravali turned towards him changing position to face him... "So...uhhh... Sharath... what you think of ahhh... the women who just signed up?"
"Nothing special about any of them. Certainly not as good as you, you slut". He put his 7 inch dick deeper and deeper as she started biting his biceps..
"Ahhh... ohhhh... fuck me Sharath. Not even that married lady?"
"Who?"
"The one in Saree. I know you love fucking married women"
"So when are you getting married you whore"
"Soon..."
"Now turn around, whore, I need your ass"
Ravali's screams now echoed the entire room as Sharath was merciless. "I'll fuck you better than this Soumya. Wait and watch"..

For comments and suggestions as well as married women and cucks who are located in Hyderabad, ping me Ksarathyu;.

Discreet fun.]]>
The exhaust fan in the kitchen was on and was swinging rapidly. It was a humid March afternoon. The house was quite silent despite being a Sunday. Normally three people are present in the house on weekends but it seemed like the house was empty except for one. Here, she was, the beautiful MILF, Soumya.

But wait, she wasn't alone.. infact she was on her knees. Her bra straps were down as her nighty was on the floor. In front of her stood Sharath, a burly man slightly overweight but with tall with nice shoulders. He was completely naked and his 8 inch cock disappeared into Soumya's mouth

"Gluckk.. gluckkkk... gluckkk" her sounds were not loud but enough to tempt Sharath to fuck her mouth faster. Just as she was about to take his dick out of her and into her pussy was when her husband and son came home from shopping.

"We need to stop, Sharath" she whispered.
"I don't care about your husband, bitch. Stand up and keep your mouth shut" He demanded
"Please.... I can't control myself and will scream"
"A pativrata can keep herself calm to save her conservative character. Now spread your legs and lay down" ...
The banging began.... but how did it start?

Soumya, 45, a conservative Telugu housewife, was living in a bland family made up of her husband and two sons. Her sons were in college busy with their graduation degree. Her husband, Suresh, was your regular 50 year old telugu with a huge tummy and bald head.

Soumya, on the other hand, had some spark in her face despite her life as a housewife wearing mostly uninspiring saree that covers her whole. Behind it, though, she hid a treasure of some beautiful assets, her boobs, hips and ass. She never knew it herself until one fine day.

"Amma, the potatoes taste delicious," Vikrant said while eating his chapatti with his hands. His younger brother Surya immediately reacted to it by saying he too preferred it over pappu (lentils). Their father Suresh glanced at the newspaper without a thought in the world as his pot belly kept getting bigger.

Soumya didn’t react. She stood at the stove, stirring the sambar on a hot sunny morning. The kitchen was already boiling and sweat fell from her milky cheeks down her blouse as she kept on working to prepare the food. The boys would leave soon to their hostels while pursuing their engineering degree. Her husband is already assigned a contract and will leave to Pune to finalize it ....and she would scrub the dishes in silence, just like every other housewife.

The clatter of plates being stacked too loudly made Soumya's shoulders tense. Vikram was in a hurry, late for his bus again and she could already see it in the way he'd sprint down the street, his luggage in one hand and bag on his shoulders. She turned just in time to see Suresh fold his newspaper and was about to get ready for his assigned task. He turned to Soumya and said "Soumi, I'm going now. I'll return in a couple of days. Make sure you lock all doors at the evening and stay at home". The last words sounded patronising to Soumya. After all, she had studied until graduation and gave up a lucrative job opportunity in exchange for the marriage with Suresh that her parents arranged. She always thought to herself what it would've been like had she pursued her career instead. She always felt bounded by the patriarchal social walls that expected her to be a good wife. Her thoughts were shattered with Suresh saying "Hey, where are you lost? Go bring me the file that I put in the bedroom". "Oh, okay andi (a Telugu word similar to "ji")... wait let me bring it". Soumya walked in and the file was open. She closed it and while checking for a bag to put it in, she came across a visiting card that said "ADGH Gym. Lose your weight and also gain mental strength". Soumya was taken aback as she never expected Suresh to be interested in Gym and all. She wanted to ask about it but thought against it. Her husband soon left and now she was all alone in her flat with the leftover plates. She soon went to the kitchen with them and while cleaning she suddenly noticed the name of the gym "ADGH Gym"

After cleaning she, hesitantly, reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen. She hadn’t searched for anything unrelated to recipes or household tips in years. The letters "ADGH Gym" were visible as if she knew it for years. She reminded herself of the words her husband spoke "Stay at home". For some reason, Soumya felt she finally needs to break the custom. She needed an outlet. Here was an opportunity that was presented to her.

She typed the name slowly, her heart rate increasing unexpectedly. The search results loaded, a simple website, smiling faces of men and women in workout gear, mostly boys in gym shorts and girls in sweat pants, a promotional video of someone lifting weights. Soumya’s eyes lingered on the address: it's very close to my house, tucked between a park and a tea stall. She has gone to the park before but never saw the gym. "Must've been new. But what is the visiting card doing in my husband's file?" She checked the established year and it was only a year or so ago. "Maybe a promotional visiting card"

Soumya hesitated, fingers tapping against the phone screen. She glanced around the empty house almost involuntarily but luckily there was no one to judge her curiosity. She then clicked on the pictures of the gym inside. The photos were bright, filled with people who looked nothing like her: young, confident, their bodies in ways she’d only seen in films. One image though caught her eye, a man with broad shoulders helping a woman on a bench press, his hands hovering near the bar but not touching it. His profile was sharp, his arms were strong with muscle, and something about the way he smiled made her feel attracted. The caption read: "Sharath, Head Trainer"

She closed the tab abruptly, as if her husband has just appeared behind her. But the thought lingered. The gym was close by. The afternoon ahead was completely empty as she finished all of her work. Before she had second thoughts, Soumya changed into a simple saree loose enough to hide her shape and tucked her hair into a bun. She didn’t have workout clothes, didn’t even know if women like her were allowed there. But the card had said "mental strength" too, hadn’t it?

The gym’s entrance smelled faintly of perfume and sweat, the kind of sharpness that made Soumya’s nose wrinkle before she could stop herself. The receptionist, a girl who is the same age as Vikrant, barely glanced up from her phone as Soumya was near the desk, clutching her bag. “First time?” the girl asked. The girl looked attractive but somehow soumya didn’t like the way she was dressed as she was in a simple T-shirt and short jeans. And yet, forgetting it, Soumya nodded, suddenly aware of how out of place she looked in her very old looking saree, the pallu tucked too tightly over her chest.

“Trial session is free,” the girl said, sliding a clipboard across the counter. “Sign here.” Soumya hesitated, then scribbled her name in the sheet. She looked up and could see a few names of women. Then the other column asked for her phone number. She hesitated a little but went ahead and put her number down. As she put the pen down and ask what came next, a deep voice cut through the room despite the noise from the distant treadmills. “New client?”

Sharath stood with his arms crossed, his tank top clinging to muscles Soumya had only ever seen in movies. His skin glistened under the lights, and when he smiled, a dimple appeared on his left cheek. "First time at a gym?" he asked, his voice warmer than she expected. Soumya nodded as she kept the clipboard in her hand. "Don’t worry," he said, plucking it from her hands and handing it back to the receptionist without looking. "I’ll take care of you."

She followed him past rows of machines and mirrored walls, her reflection somehow looking smaller and her thoughts more uncertain with every step. Sharath stopped near a corner where a yoga mat lay unrolled. "We’ll start slow," he said, kneeling to adjust the mat. "Just some stretches." Soumya hesitated, then sat, folding her legs beneath her. Sharath chuckled. "Not like that." He guided her ankles apart with two fingers, his touch despite being light was extremely firm and she almost felt a jolt inside her. "Breathe in." He said and she did, and when she exhaled, his palm was gently put on her lower back, urging her forward. The stretch burned in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

The stretch deepened as Soumya's breath was hitching as Sharath's fingers continued to rest on her spine. "You're flexible for a beginner," he murmured, his voice low but hearble enough. Soumya blushed despite being unsure if it was praise or something else. "I....I used to dance in college," she admitted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Sharath's eyebrows lifted. "Bharatanatyam?" he asked, his thumb slightly brushing her waist where her saree had slightly opened up to show her skin. Soumya let out a slow "ahhh" inside of herself.

"Beautiful," Sharath said, though he wasn't looking at her face. He shifted closer, the heat of his body almost noticeable even through her saree. "You should try some hip-opening poses. They'd suit you." It was an innuendo but she was getting slightly turned on by the entire situation. Soumya swallowed, suddenly aware of how alone they were in this corner. "I... I should go," she said, straightening abruptly. Sharath's hand caught her wrist, his grip just shy of painful. "So soon?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You haven't even told me about yourself."

Soumya hesitated, then looked around, "I'm married. Two sons, both in college." The words she thought were a shield to protect her from all the corrupt thoughts, a reminder to herself about the life that she has. Sharath's grip loosened, but his expression did change. A flicker of surprise, then something darker, calculating. "Married?" He let the word linger, his gaze slowly dropping below to her mangalsutra. "And yet here you are." He said quietly, almost too quiet

Sharath leaned back on his heels, pretending to study the yoga mat. Inside, his mind raced. "Married slut? Easy to tap." He'd seen it before bored housewives looking for adventure, their morality as flimsy as their excuses. The tryst he had with Radha, the 35 year old he had fucked so badly that she almost left her husband for him. But Soumya was different. The way her saree clung to her hips, the nervous bite of her lower lip, she wasn't here for validation. She was hungry. And Sharath knew exactly how to feed that hunger.

"Tell me, Soumya," he said, deliberately using her name, "when was the last time someone touched you just for you?" The question hung between them, it appeared vulgar but Sharath's handsome body and face made it look like a straightforward question. Soumya's breath caught. Suresh's hands were practical quick gropes in the dark, his focus always on his own release. Sharath saw the answer in her silence. He stood, offering a hand to help her up. When she took it, he didn't let go. "Come back tomorrow," he said, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "I'll show you what your body's really capable of"

Soumya left the place and went home. She couldn't understand what just happened. How did she leave the peaceful no nonsense life of her own and ended up getting involved in flirting with a much younger guy. In the evening, after a call from her husband, she lied on her bed. Just then, she thought of the episode at the gym. Sharath tracing his fingers around her waist. Instead of getting angry she got aroused and within a minute or so she had an absolutely incredible orgasm without anyone even touching her, something Suresh never ever did..

Meanwhile in the gym, it was pitch dark and Ravali was getting absolutely fucked in doggystyle. Her screams were too loud and there was none who could hear it out. Just as Sharath was increasing the pace, Ravali turned towards him changing position to face him... "So...uhhh... Sharath... what you think of ahhh... the women who just signed up?"
"Nothing special about any of them. Certainly not as good as you, you slut". He put his 7 inch dick deeper and deeper as she started biting his biceps..
"Ahhh... ohhhh... fuck me Sharath. Not even that married lady?"
"Who?"
"The one in Saree. I know you love fucking married women"
"So when are you getting married you whore"
"Soon..."
"Now turn around, whore, I need your ass"
Ravali's screams now echoed the entire room as Sharath was merciless. "I'll fuck you better than this Soumya. Wait and watch"..

For comments and suggestions as well as married women and cucks who are located in Hyderabad, ping me Ksarathyu;.

Discreet fun.]]> <![CDATA[Old Uncle Satisfies Married Young Neighbour (copied from Net)]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73778.html Thu, 21 May 2026 14:01:44 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73778.html This story is a recent incident that happened with a neighboring family to my own flat. After retirement, my sexual desire has made a free leap to spread its wings.

Now my attention has turned from the adult MILFs to the young wives I see who are touching thirties. They are the wild fucking bitches at the thresh hold of regular fuck from their husbands or any close relatives.

My sexual potency may not be like the ladies in their thirties, but I can satisfy any lady in sexual intercourse. Apart from giving a nice fuck I can seduce any women by my flirting ability and can mold even a totally shy girl to a raging bitch.

Now, let me come to the topic. My wife is a pious and workaholic lady and is always busy. There is another family on the 1st floor of my apartment with an old retired father having a son Nabin, who was married, three years ago, and a daughter-in-law, Sony who is about 28 years. The mother is staying with their daughter in Mumbai.

The son has a marketing job which requires him to tour other towns and cities. He stays in hotels and enjoys his time in his own way. In a month he spends 4-5 nights with his wife.

The daughter-in-law is therefore mostly seen roaming on her scooty outdoor or spends time in gossip with some ladies in other flats. About my young dream lady, adjectives like voluptuous or gorgeous will be inadequate for her.
Her sensuous body has a strong sexual appeal, she possesses a large bosom and pleasing curves displaying luxury and will definitely furnish gratification to the senses.

Since the day I saw her first, and she greeted me with a smiling face, I have got a terrible temptation to get closer to her. That is because in my youth, I was a fan of Ayesha Takia and Sony looks exactly like her.

She has the same features, hairstyles, and mainly her 37B cup rounded breasts. Her buttocks are 36″ though Ayesha’s is 37”. However, she was my Ayesha.

Very often I meet her in the basement parking lot while taking out the two-wheeler from the garage. I used to enjoy talking to her while my eyes surveyed her fleshy butts and huge breasts.

My weakness for a plump body, drew me towards her making me unrestful. Sometimes like a teenage boy, I would follow her up to some distance. I never failed to ask her something just to be in touch with her.

This went on for quite some time. We had a formal relationship. She would call me uncle and I would call her by her name, Sony. She occasionally wears formal churidar and Punjabi suits but is usually seen in jeans and a top-shirt.

Like modern married girls, she rarely wears sarees and does so only on special functions. Her ample heavy body dressed in provocative casuals drives all age groups crazy and not necessarily only the young.

Most males much older in age also go mad on seeing her. Her jeans expose her king-size buttocks swinging with every step. Her round breasts sharply project itself forward and challenge your manhood.

They are really, really huge in size, 38″ and much bigger as compared to her age. Her waistline and belly are prominently wider, but the gigantic shape of her butts covers it up.

The medium fat deposited on her belly and plumpness of the navel area, makes her look like a damn sexy MILF. The rest of her body description, I shall give after seeing her nude.

Let me go ahead with the incidences that happened further. After a few months of their marriage, there was a new year’s party in our flat. When I became more familiar with her, while conducting events and entertaining others, I was also singing some romantic Hindi songs in that function.

Singing and playing table, keyboard, harmonium, etc. were my hobbies and I keep all those instruments in my house. In fact, I am as enthusiastic as a youth though I have crossed 60 and retired.

Coincidentally, Sony also sings well and is a music lover. So she too participated in the program with me. I enjoyed the evening. It was
my pleasure that during dinner, she with her spouse expressed her desire to practice music in her spare time to pursue her singing
hobby under my guidance.

Her spouse, Nabin gladly encouraged her in this proposal. As I had told you earlier she finds it boring to spend her spare time with her aged, orthodox father-in-law.

Like this, a very nice route opened to develop a relationship with my crush. Eventually, she started visiting my house after lunch in the afternoons, to practice vocal singing accompanied by me and with my guidance.

Earlier when she used to come to my house we used to sit in the living room with my wife. But now she sits in another small room, which you can say is our recreation room.

My desktop attached to the home theatre is kept there. We used to listen to a particular song in the music system from Youtube, then practice it.

Sony generally comes wearing a casual dress, leggings, and top. During our music sessions, she freely interacts with me and does not maintain any physical distance.

Probably as I am much older in age she never feels shy. As such, she is a very smart girl born and has been brought up in urban culture. On the other hand, I am so overpowered by my carnal desire that I stare lustfully at her beautiful body while interacting with her.
She used to smile innocently but never minded when I intentionally touched her. Sometimes while she plays the harmonium I used to sit very close, rubbing my thighs with hers.

Then I would extend my arms to correct the notes she was playing and cross her chest thereby rubbing my elbow and arm with her soft fluffy boobs. The first time when I did this she moved a little and I removed my hand. But I repeated it again and again so that she gets used to it. After this, I tried to advance a little more.
Once when she performed very well in singing a particularly difficult song, out of excitement I caught her by both of her arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
She was perhaps taken aback and for the first time, I saw her blushing like a shy girl. So that indicated that she had guessed that I am trying to seduce her.

That day while she was leaving, she waved her hand said, “Bye” like a friend.

The next day I had a short conversation with her which went like this:

Me: Sony! Now that we are good friends may I ask you some questions.
Sony: Yes uncle. Ask me what you want.
Me: Your husband is most of the time absent. You might be feeling lonely at the night. No?
I clearly noticed that she got a bit confused by my question but afterward she replied with a sigh of grief. She looked into my eyes and said:
Sony: Yes uncle. As I trust you and at present, you are my only male friend so close to me, I will confess to you something. Please keep this a secret. Even when he comes home, he prefers to spend the night with heavy drinks forgetting me.
Sony: My desire to be loved is never fulfilled. He does not concentrate on me, which made me think that during his tour he is enjoying both wine and women. To date, I have never exposed my personal matter to anyone.
Sony: I am enjoying life in my own style. Of course, my wallet is always full. His credit card is with me. So far nobody has shown so much concern as you have shown. So thanks a lot.

She burst into tears and could not express anything further. I took the opportunity to cajole her by drawing her towards me. She was almost on my laps and buried her face in my broad chest.

I am a 5′ 8″ in height having 38″ hairy chest and a muscular body too. Nobody can discard me physically basing me on my age only. Now I held her loosely and kissed her on her forehead, cheeks, and finally on her juicy lips.

She was motionless but not withdrawing from my embrace. Anyway, she is also a lady of big stature, so holding her loosely also gave me extreme sensual pleasure.
All her body parts are fleshy and soft like a sponge which I was exploring slowly but gently. After a few minutes, she regained her composure and mildly protested.

Then she shocked me by saying, “Uncle, I am not a small child. I know from the beginning that you want to get closer to me. But will it be fair and decent? If anyone from both our families comes to know about this, it will damage my life.”

I was stunned and could not find a way to convince her. Still, I gathered the courage to seduce her by saying, “Dear Sony babe! Yes, you are about my daughter’s age. But my love to you is very much pure from the core of my heart.”

“If you find the boundary between affection and love diffused without clear cut boundaries, let me know. You are deprived of love and sex at this youthful age.”

“You can try me secretly if you feel others will doubt our relationship. If you don’t like me you can refuse, but do not sacrifice your enjoyment for the sake of this heartless society.”

Sony was still in a neutral stage. She said, “I need some time to get mentally prepared to accept your invitation.”
Though she had refused my offer, she was still in my arms. She allowed me to resume the lovemaking and external things so that my passion cools down.

I took her on my lap, squeezed her large breasts from outside her blouse very smoothly, and felt her buttocks and her bottom line with my hand. I then caressed all her sensitive body parts which she seemed to enjoy.
All this I did with her clothes on as she did not allow me to free her breasts from her bra and blouse. Then finally I took a chance and placed my lips on her sweet lips which she allowed.

From gentle sucking of lips, we continued smooching vigorously for 5 minutes and strangely she was very passionate. She gave me her tongue and sucked mine as we exchanged our saliva like mad love birds.

During these five minutes, I had placed my left hand in between her thigh junction, which is on her nice pussy. While feeling the warmth and wetness of the vagina, I succeeded to make her hot and yielding.

But when I whispered slowly in her ear, “Sony Baby! Shall we proceed further?” She withdrew herself immediately from the sensual act. And with a mysterious smile told me, ‘No, uncle! Please don’t mind. I will leave now. Please have patience.”
But while leaving she gave me a tight embrace and a hot kiss.

The next music schedule was after two days when she came in a very special ghagra choli. It was after lunch, so my wife was in her deep afternoon sleep as usual.

Sony looked very jolly and smart. There was no confusion or hesitation in her dealings. My target was the green signal for a sexual encounter with my baby doll, just swallowing her butter-soft breasts and shoving my 7″ love stick in her red hot fucking hole.
A
fter a few minutes, she came to me and asked, “Uncle! Won’t you allow your baby to sit on your lap today?” I smilingly said, “Oh yes, my sweet lady. Come on.”
Sitting on my lap, putting her globe like butts on both sides of my semi erected penis, she kissed my lips and said, “Last two days I thought of you only and your love has won me over. I am ready to keep sexual relations with you.”

“But I don’t feel safe here. I am very much scared of a very reserved and conservative lady, like aunty. I can’t betray her in her own house. I said, “It’s all right baby, let us find a place.”

She said, “Uncle there will be no safer place then our community hall, which has a guest room with a bed. It is at the top of the apartment and nobody goes there at this hour.”

The key of the hall was in the custody of her father-in-law, but she had brought it without his knowledge. I thought to myself, this slut has proper plans to make me fuck her today.

We locked our door with the 2nd key and I told her to go alone by lift. I climbed the stairs and reached that lonely place. I locked the house and looked at her.

Ultimately, I now possess such a cute young and hot woman. She is today wearing a light yellow, cream-colored choli and ghagra and was looking like a little girl.

We straight away went to the bedroom and switched on the fan. The windows were open. We embraced each other again and caressed each other’s body over the garments.

Desire mounted like mercury and a time came when we started undressing each other. Now the shape of her 37B breasts attracted me. Literally, I pushed her on the single guest cot and put my nose on her gully like cleavage.

Kissing there deeply I tried to squeeze her pointed breasts over the bra a few times. Now my Sony was more responsive to take out her huge but round and most precious assets and free them from her bra. Two ripe mangoes with brown small nipples in front of me were so luscious, I could not resist.

I put it in my mouth and sucked with pressure which made Sony shudder in erotic ecstasy.
My tongue was licking her nipples smoothly to enhance the sensation. She was not only enjoying but hyperactive in touching and kissing me madly.

Now I am too anxious to make the fucking session more memorable as after so many years I had got the chance to enjoy the gem of a damn young lady. Another small session of smooching and breast sucking made us so horny. I removed her panty and saw her wide pubic mound shining bright.

It was surrounded by small curly dark pubic hairs around the tender vaginal lips hiding the main hole. My thirsty eyes were tempted to see the hidden treasures of creation and my lips were ready to suck deeper and deeper into the cave.

A few minutes of sucking by my experienced lips and tongue made her vagina thirsty. With the tickling of her clitoral notch, she raised her huge bottoms up and down with excited moaning.

She reached her first orgasm with thunder-like shivering and remained silent. I lifted my face and saw her full nude luxurious body inviting me to suck, squeeze, lick, and fuck.

Now I invoked her to make use of my body and sensitive parts. A married lady of three long years must put her own skill to arouse her male partner. I was sleeping by her side, as she mounted me and started from the top to caress and touch me with her soft lips. Not missing anything, my chest and nipples also.

When she reached below the waist and removed my shorts, my male organ was all alert. A 7” standard penis with more girth than her husband’s. She was not a sucking whore. But her slender fingers and tongue touching the open tip of my penis were so exciting. Actually, it matters who is the lady handling it.

She was none other than my big crush, my dream girl, and the most charming body, Ayesha Takia look-alike! That is why I could not control it anymore. I lay her down on the bed and positioned myself in between her thighs.

Then I rubbed the tip of my erect penis on her vaginal lips and squeezing one breast with the other hand. This process to arouse her for the final act of intercourse was well received by Sony.

She spread her hand to hold my waist and slowly swinging her buttocks to feel the penis near her gateway to heaven. Finally, she became anxious and guided my penis to the vaginal hole, and with both our attempts pushed almost half of my penis into her.

She made a controlled seductive sound, “aahha…..ha… ohhho….ha” both out of pain and pleasure like an opening musical note commemorating our first intercourse.
Not enough, my whole penis has to fill her soft and hot deep tunnel to give her full enjoyment of sex. For the 2nd stroke, I pulled my rod a little out and again pushed it with the heaviest jerk.

My tip reached her deepest point of the tunnel and she cried, “Oh…..maa…..yeen…..aahhh” and tightened her grip around me. Then I continued the push and pull and she was fucked by me like hell.

In between, I was using her breasts and lips for her arousal. She was madly lifting her huge buttocks from below to take the strokes perfectly.
“Oh…….uncle, fuck me hard. Kill me…… I love you……. uncle. Oh….. I….have never been fucked like this…… oh….. maa…… suck my breasts….. Oh….. what…. a great feel…… you are fucking like a bull……. I am your whore………. tear my pussy.”

All sorts of sexy outbursts were coming out of her mouth which she did not control nor was she shy to utter.

I too was encouraging her by whispering, “Yes baby! I am your mature lover… Oh, my….darling…..I am madly dying for your boobs…. you have the best pair of boobs of the world…..Ooochhh….. suck it baby…… your tiny nipples I will lick….. you are very tight there like a virgin……. what a soft velvety warm pussy you have…….press your thighs to hold my penis tight.”

We exchanged hot words finally she shouted, “I am coming janu… hold me tight..oh….oh….. shit….. I am lost.” She shivered and calmed down looking towards me.

I was also on the verge of climaxing, so after a few more super hard pushes I sprayed my semen inside the randy receptacle. We both collapsed entwined with each other’s bodies.

This was the beginning of our sexual encounter of a very classic pair of lovers, young and old. But as per my beloved Sony, from me, she got the real sexual pleasure.

She certified me as a real man who knows the art of love and sex. As for me, she rejuvenated my fading sexual life through her sexy young body and luxurious assets.

Our illicit relationship was secret to all. But we are enjoying sex as and when we want and when the situation permits]]> This story is a recent incident that happened with a neighboring family to my own flat. After retirement, my sexual desire has made a free leap to spread its wings.

Now my attention has turned from the adult MILFs to the young wives I see who are touching thirties. They are the wild fucking bitches at the thresh hold of regular fuck from their husbands or any close relatives.

My sexual potency may not be like the ladies in their thirties, but I can satisfy any lady in sexual intercourse. Apart from giving a nice fuck I can seduce any women by my flirting ability and can mold even a totally shy girl to a raging bitch.

Now, let me come to the topic. My wife is a pious and workaholic lady and is always busy. There is another family on the 1st floor of my apartment with an old retired father having a son Nabin, who was married, three years ago, and a daughter-in-law, Sony who is about 28 years. The mother is staying with their daughter in Mumbai.

The son has a marketing job which requires him to tour other towns and cities. He stays in hotels and enjoys his time in his own way. In a month he spends 4-5 nights with his wife.

The daughter-in-law is therefore mostly seen roaming on her scooty outdoor or spends time in gossip with some ladies in other flats. About my young dream lady, adjectives like voluptuous or gorgeous will be inadequate for her.
Her sensuous body has a strong sexual appeal, she possesses a large bosom and pleasing curves displaying luxury and will definitely furnish gratification to the senses.

Since the day I saw her first, and she greeted me with a smiling face, I have got a terrible temptation to get closer to her. That is because in my youth, I was a fan of Ayesha Takia and Sony looks exactly like her.

She has the same features, hairstyles, and mainly her 37B cup rounded breasts. Her buttocks are 36″ though Ayesha’s is 37”. However, she was my Ayesha.

Very often I meet her in the basement parking lot while taking out the two-wheeler from the garage. I used to enjoy talking to her while my eyes surveyed her fleshy butts and huge breasts.

My weakness for a plump body, drew me towards her making me unrestful. Sometimes like a teenage boy, I would follow her up to some distance. I never failed to ask her something just to be in touch with her.

This went on for quite some time. We had a formal relationship. She would call me uncle and I would call her by her name, Sony. She occasionally wears formal churidar and Punjabi suits but is usually seen in jeans and a top-shirt.

Like modern married girls, she rarely wears sarees and does so only on special functions. Her ample heavy body dressed in provocative casuals drives all age groups crazy and not necessarily only the young.

Most males much older in age also go mad on seeing her. Her jeans expose her king-size buttocks swinging with every step. Her round breasts sharply project itself forward and challenge your manhood.

They are really, really huge in size, 38″ and much bigger as compared to her age. Her waistline and belly are prominently wider, but the gigantic shape of her butts covers it up.

The medium fat deposited on her belly and plumpness of the navel area, makes her look like a damn sexy MILF. The rest of her body description, I shall give after seeing her nude.

Let me go ahead with the incidences that happened further. After a few months of their marriage, there was a new year’s party in our flat. When I became more familiar with her, while conducting events and entertaining others, I was also singing some romantic Hindi songs in that function.

Singing and playing table, keyboard, harmonium, etc. were my hobbies and I keep all those instruments in my house. In fact, I am as enthusiastic as a youth though I have crossed 60 and retired.

Coincidentally, Sony also sings well and is a music lover. So she too participated in the program with me. I enjoyed the evening. It was
my pleasure that during dinner, she with her spouse expressed her desire to practice music in her spare time to pursue her singing
hobby under my guidance.

Her spouse, Nabin gladly encouraged her in this proposal. As I had told you earlier she finds it boring to spend her spare time with her aged, orthodox father-in-law.

Like this, a very nice route opened to develop a relationship with my crush. Eventually, she started visiting my house after lunch in the afternoons, to practice vocal singing accompanied by me and with my guidance.

Earlier when she used to come to my house we used to sit in the living room with my wife. But now she sits in another small room, which you can say is our recreation room.

My desktop attached to the home theatre is kept there. We used to listen to a particular song in the music system from Youtube, then practice it.

Sony generally comes wearing a casual dress, leggings, and top. During our music sessions, she freely interacts with me and does not maintain any physical distance.

Probably as I am much older in age she never feels shy. As such, she is a very smart girl born and has been brought up in urban culture. On the other hand, I am so overpowered by my carnal desire that I stare lustfully at her beautiful body while interacting with her.
She used to smile innocently but never minded when I intentionally touched her. Sometimes while she plays the harmonium I used to sit very close, rubbing my thighs with hers.

Then I would extend my arms to correct the notes she was playing and cross her chest thereby rubbing my elbow and arm with her soft fluffy boobs. The first time when I did this she moved a little and I removed my hand. But I repeated it again and again so that she gets used to it. After this, I tried to advance a little more.
Once when she performed very well in singing a particularly difficult song, out of excitement I caught her by both of her arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
She was perhaps taken aback and for the first time, I saw her blushing like a shy girl. So that indicated that she had guessed that I am trying to seduce her.

That day while she was leaving, she waved her hand said, “Bye” like a friend.

The next day I had a short conversation with her which went like this:

Me: Sony! Now that we are good friends may I ask you some questions.
Sony: Yes uncle. Ask me what you want.
Me: Your husband is most of the time absent. You might be feeling lonely at the night. No?
I clearly noticed that she got a bit confused by my question but afterward she replied with a sigh of grief. She looked into my eyes and said:
Sony: Yes uncle. As I trust you and at present, you are my only male friend so close to me, I will confess to you something. Please keep this a secret. Even when he comes home, he prefers to spend the night with heavy drinks forgetting me.
Sony: My desire to be loved is never fulfilled. He does not concentrate on me, which made me think that during his tour he is enjoying both wine and women. To date, I have never exposed my personal matter to anyone.
Sony: I am enjoying life in my own style. Of course, my wallet is always full. His credit card is with me. So far nobody has shown so much concern as you have shown. So thanks a lot.

She burst into tears and could not express anything further. I took the opportunity to cajole her by drawing her towards me. She was almost on my laps and buried her face in my broad chest.

I am a 5′ 8″ in height having 38″ hairy chest and a muscular body too. Nobody can discard me physically basing me on my age only. Now I held her loosely and kissed her on her forehead, cheeks, and finally on her juicy lips.

She was motionless but not withdrawing from my embrace. Anyway, she is also a lady of big stature, so holding her loosely also gave me extreme sensual pleasure.
All her body parts are fleshy and soft like a sponge which I was exploring slowly but gently. After a few minutes, she regained her composure and mildly protested.

Then she shocked me by saying, “Uncle, I am not a small child. I know from the beginning that you want to get closer to me. But will it be fair and decent? If anyone from both our families comes to know about this, it will damage my life.”

I was stunned and could not find a way to convince her. Still, I gathered the courage to seduce her by saying, “Dear Sony babe! Yes, you are about my daughter’s age. But my love to you is very much pure from the core of my heart.”

“If you find the boundary between affection and love diffused without clear cut boundaries, let me know. You are deprived of love and sex at this youthful age.”

“You can try me secretly if you feel others will doubt our relationship. If you don’t like me you can refuse, but do not sacrifice your enjoyment for the sake of this heartless society.”

Sony was still in a neutral stage. She said, “I need some time to get mentally prepared to accept your invitation.”
Though she had refused my offer, she was still in my arms. She allowed me to resume the lovemaking and external things so that my passion cools down.

I took her on my lap, squeezed her large breasts from outside her blouse very smoothly, and felt her buttocks and her bottom line with my hand. I then caressed all her sensitive body parts which she seemed to enjoy.
All this I did with her clothes on as she did not allow me to free her breasts from her bra and blouse. Then finally I took a chance and placed my lips on her sweet lips which she allowed.

From gentle sucking of lips, we continued smooching vigorously for 5 minutes and strangely she was very passionate. She gave me her tongue and sucked mine as we exchanged our saliva like mad love birds.

During these five minutes, I had placed my left hand in between her thigh junction, which is on her nice pussy. While feeling the warmth and wetness of the vagina, I succeeded to make her hot and yielding.

But when I whispered slowly in her ear, “Sony Baby! Shall we proceed further?” She withdrew herself immediately from the sensual act. And with a mysterious smile told me, ‘No, uncle! Please don’t mind. I will leave now. Please have patience.”
But while leaving she gave me a tight embrace and a hot kiss.

The next music schedule was after two days when she came in a very special ghagra choli. It was after lunch, so my wife was in her deep afternoon sleep as usual.

Sony looked very jolly and smart. There was no confusion or hesitation in her dealings. My target was the green signal for a sexual encounter with my baby doll, just swallowing her butter-soft breasts and shoving my 7″ love stick in her red hot fucking hole.
A
fter a few minutes, she came to me and asked, “Uncle! Won’t you allow your baby to sit on your lap today?” I smilingly said, “Oh yes, my sweet lady. Come on.”
Sitting on my lap, putting her globe like butts on both sides of my semi erected penis, she kissed my lips and said, “Last two days I thought of you only and your love has won me over. I am ready to keep sexual relations with you.”

“But I don’t feel safe here. I am very much scared of a very reserved and conservative lady, like aunty. I can’t betray her in her own house. I said, “It’s all right baby, let us find a place.”

She said, “Uncle there will be no safer place then our community hall, which has a guest room with a bed. It is at the top of the apartment and nobody goes there at this hour.”

The key of the hall was in the custody of her father-in-law, but she had brought it without his knowledge. I thought to myself, this slut has proper plans to make me fuck her today.

We locked our door with the 2nd key and I told her to go alone by lift. I climbed the stairs and reached that lonely place. I locked the house and looked at her.

Ultimately, I now possess such a cute young and hot woman. She is today wearing a light yellow, cream-colored choli and ghagra and was looking like a little girl.

We straight away went to the bedroom and switched on the fan. The windows were open. We embraced each other again and caressed each other’s body over the garments.

Desire mounted like mercury and a time came when we started undressing each other. Now the shape of her 37B breasts attracted me. Literally, I pushed her on the single guest cot and put my nose on her gully like cleavage.

Kissing there deeply I tried to squeeze her pointed breasts over the bra a few times. Now my Sony was more responsive to take out her huge but round and most precious assets and free them from her bra. Two ripe mangoes with brown small nipples in front of me were so luscious, I could not resist.

I put it in my mouth and sucked with pressure which made Sony shudder in erotic ecstasy.
My tongue was licking her nipples smoothly to enhance the sensation. She was not only enjoying but hyperactive in touching and kissing me madly.

Now I am too anxious to make the fucking session more memorable as after so many years I had got the chance to enjoy the gem of a damn young lady. Another small session of smooching and breast sucking made us so horny. I removed her panty and saw her wide pubic mound shining bright.

It was surrounded by small curly dark pubic hairs around the tender vaginal lips hiding the main hole. My thirsty eyes were tempted to see the hidden treasures of creation and my lips were ready to suck deeper and deeper into the cave.

A few minutes of sucking by my experienced lips and tongue made her vagina thirsty. With the tickling of her clitoral notch, she raised her huge bottoms up and down with excited moaning.

She reached her first orgasm with thunder-like shivering and remained silent. I lifted my face and saw her full nude luxurious body inviting me to suck, squeeze, lick, and fuck.

Now I invoked her to make use of my body and sensitive parts. A married lady of three long years must put her own skill to arouse her male partner. I was sleeping by her side, as she mounted me and started from the top to caress and touch me with her soft lips. Not missing anything, my chest and nipples also.

When she reached below the waist and removed my shorts, my male organ was all alert. A 7” standard penis with more girth than her husband’s. She was not a sucking whore. But her slender fingers and tongue touching the open tip of my penis were so exciting. Actually, it matters who is the lady handling it.

She was none other than my big crush, my dream girl, and the most charming body, Ayesha Takia look-alike! That is why I could not control it anymore. I lay her down on the bed and positioned myself in between her thighs.

Then I rubbed the tip of my erect penis on her vaginal lips and squeezing one breast with the other hand. This process to arouse her for the final act of intercourse was well received by Sony.

She spread her hand to hold my waist and slowly swinging her buttocks to feel the penis near her gateway to heaven. Finally, she became anxious and guided my penis to the vaginal hole, and with both our attempts pushed almost half of my penis into her.

She made a controlled seductive sound, “aahha…..ha… ohhho….ha” both out of pain and pleasure like an opening musical note commemorating our first intercourse.
Not enough, my whole penis has to fill her soft and hot deep tunnel to give her full enjoyment of sex. For the 2nd stroke, I pulled my rod a little out and again pushed it with the heaviest jerk.

My tip reached her deepest point of the tunnel and she cried, “Oh…..maa…..yeen…..aahhh” and tightened her grip around me. Then I continued the push and pull and she was fucked by me like hell.

In between, I was using her breasts and lips for her arousal. She was madly lifting her huge buttocks from below to take the strokes perfectly.
“Oh…….uncle, fuck me hard. Kill me…… I love you……. uncle. Oh….. I….have never been fucked like this…… oh….. maa…… suck my breasts….. Oh….. what…. a great feel…… you are fucking like a bull……. I am your whore………. tear my pussy.”

All sorts of sexy outbursts were coming out of her mouth which she did not control nor was she shy to utter.

I too was encouraging her by whispering, “Yes baby! I am your mature lover… Oh, my….darling…..I am madly dying for your boobs…. you have the best pair of boobs of the world…..Ooochhh….. suck it baby…… your tiny nipples I will lick….. you are very tight there like a virgin……. what a soft velvety warm pussy you have…….press your thighs to hold my penis tight.”

We exchanged hot words finally she shouted, “I am coming janu… hold me tight..oh….oh….. shit….. I am lost.” She shivered and calmed down looking towards me.

I was also on the verge of climaxing, so after a few more super hard pushes I sprayed my semen inside the randy receptacle. We both collapsed entwined with each other’s bodies.

This was the beginning of our sexual encounter of a very classic pair of lovers, young and old. But as per my beloved Sony, from me, she got the real sexual pleasure.

She certified me as a real man who knows the art of love and sex. As for me, she rejuvenated my fading sexual life through her sexy young body and luxurious assets.

Our illicit relationship was secret to all. But we are enjoying sex as and when we want and when the situation permits]]> <![CDATA[Randi Maa – Ghar Ki Chudai]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73772.html Thu, 21 May 2026 08:39:30 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73772.html

Characters:

Priya: 41-year-old extremely voluptuous plus-size Beautiful housewife. Wheatish-golden skin, large natural heavy breasts with slight natural sag and stretch marks, soft rounded belly, wide hips, big round fleshy juicy ass, and thick soft thighs. Sexually starved for years. Her husband works in America and comes home only once every 2 years just to fuck her hard for a few days and then leaves again. To satisfy her burning hunger, she has been having a secret, explicit, and very dirty affair with the apartment security guards.
Rohan: 18-year-old younger son, still a virgin. Never had sex but masturbates almost every day thinking about his hot, curvy mom Priya.
Rahul: 21-year-old elder son, rugged and fit college guy who fucks many girls but secretly fantasizes about his own mother. He has heard apartment gossip that his mom is “naughty” and doubts she is sleeping around.
Ramakant (Father-in-law): 85-year-old widowed old man. Lives with Priya. As she grew older and plumper, he developed a strong secret attraction towards his voluptuous daughter-in-law.
Apartment Security Guards: Three 60-year-old guards. They first forced and blackmailed Priya into sex. Now Priya has become addicted to their thick cocks and loves getting fucked by them regularly. (Rohan does not know about the pregnancy gangbang, lactation, or second son’s real father.)

]]>

Characters:

Priya: 41-year-old extremely voluptuous plus-size Beautiful housewife. Wheatish-golden skin, large natural heavy breasts with slight natural sag and stretch marks, soft rounded belly, wide hips, big round fleshy juicy ass, and thick soft thighs. Sexually starved for years. Her husband works in America and comes home only once every 2 years just to fuck her hard for a few days and then leaves again. To satisfy her burning hunger, she has been having a secret, explicit, and very dirty affair with the apartment security guards.
Rohan: 18-year-old younger son, still a virgin. Never had sex but masturbates almost every day thinking about his hot, curvy mom Priya.
Rahul: 21-year-old elder son, rugged and fit college guy who fucks many girls but secretly fantasizes about his own mother. He has heard apartment gossip that his mom is “naughty” and doubts she is sleeping around.
Ramakant (Father-in-law): 85-year-old widowed old man. Lives with Priya. As she grew older and plumper, he developed a strong secret attraction towards his voluptuous daughter-in-law.
Apartment Security Guards: Three 60-year-old guards. They first forced and blackmailed Priya into sex. Now Priya has become addicted to their thick cocks and loves getting fucked by them regularly. (Rohan does not know about the pregnancy gangbang, lactation, or second son’s real father.)

]]> <![CDATA[Priya’s Wedding Night Gangbang]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73766.html Wed, 20 May 2026 17:17:12 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73766.html ]]> ]]> <![CDATA[My Wife and Servant Gopal: Biosys version]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73763.html Wed, 20 May 2026 12:28:15 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73763.html
I have completed the entire story and am ready to post it. Keep in mind that I have written it in a third-person narrative style, rather than from the husband’s point of view. If you would like me to write a version from the husband’s perspective as well, just let me know; I can attempt that too. To start, I am going to post the original story here, and I intend to give due credits to the first author.

Please let me know how many of you are looking forward to my version.]]>
I have completed the entire story and am ready to post it. Keep in mind that I have written it in a third-person narrative style, rather than from the husband’s point of view. If you would like me to write a version from the husband’s perspective as well, just let me know; I can attempt that too. To start, I am going to post the original story here, and I intend to give due credits to the first author.

Please let me know how many of you are looking forward to my version.]]> <![CDATA[Ananya’s Beggar Addiction: The Billionaire and the Filthy Streets]]> https://xossipy.com/thread-73740.html Mon, 18 May 2026 17:41:54 +0300 https://xossipy.com/thread-73740.html

Ananya’s Beggar Addiction: The Billionaire and the Filthy

Ananya was born into a world made of soft silk and high walls. From the day she opened her eyes, she never knew what it felt like to touch the cold, hard ground. Her father was a powerful industrialist, and her mother was a high-society woman who cared more about brand names and social status than anything else.
They lived in a massive mansion in Delhi, surrounded by servants who anticipated their every need. To her parents, Ananya was not just a daughter; she was a prized possession, a beautiful doll to be kept safe until she could be used to form a powerful alliance with another wealthy family.

Growing up, Ananya was kept away from the real world. She attended an elite, private international college where the children of billionaires and politicians studied. Every morning, a luxury car with tinted windows dropped her right at the college gates, and two personal bodyguards waited outside her classroom.

Because of this extreme shelter, Ananya grew up with a heart that was completely pure, innocent, and incredibly naive. She truly believed that the world was a beautiful, kind place. She thought every person was inherently good, honest, and filled with love. She had never seen poverty, she had never heard a harsh word, and she had never experienced deceit.
As the years passed, the innocent little girl bloomed into a breathtakingly beautiful young woman. By the time she entered a prestigious college to study literature, her appearance was mesmerizing, strongly resembling the actress Kavya Thapar. She had a flawless, creamy complexion that looked like untouched marble, and deep, expressive brown eyes that still held the wide, curious innocence of a child. Her hair was thick, dark, and fell in soft waves past her waist.

Ananya possessed a naturally stunning, curvaceous body. Her frame was delicate yet deeply feminine, with a slender waist that contrasted beautifully with her full, soft hips and a well-rounded chest. She had a gentle, elegant grace in the way she walked, usually dressed in modest yet expensive designer outfits that highlighted her hourglass figure without being overly revealing.

Despite her striking, mature, and undeniably hot physical presence, her mind remained completely untouched by the desires of the flesh. Boys in college write poetry about her, but she never noticed. She had never been kissed, and she did not even understand the intense, burning gaze of men who looked at her body. To her, love was something holy, quiet, and sweet.

The moment Ananya graduated, her greedy parents immediately began looking for a match. They did not care about her happiness; they wanted a man whose wealth could double their own empire. After rejecting several suitors, they found the perfect match: Vikram Oberoi.
Vikram was a legendary real estate tycoon. In the business world, he was known as a ferocious, dangerous, and ruthless man who crushed his rivals without mercy. He was powerful, intensely wealthy, and feared by many. However, the moment he saw Ananya, something shifted inside him. He recognized her absolute purity and felt a fierce need to protect it.
When they got married, Vikram proved to be a perfect gentleman husband. He never forced himself on her and never brought his dark, stressful business world into their bedroom. He treated Ananya like a fragile glass deity, worshiping her from a distance.
He showered her with love, respect, and expensive gifts, but their intimacy remained gentle, careful, and traditional. Ananya felt safe and content, completely unaware of the raw, consuming passion that could exist between a man and a woman.

For four beautiful years, they lived in their perfect, golden bubble. Eventually, they decided it was time to start a family. Ananya became pregnant, and the entire household rejoiced.
But behind the scenes, a massive financial shield had already been placed around Ananya. Years ago, Vikram’s father, who deeply loved his own wife and understood the greedy nature of his extended family, had transferred all his personal belongings and wealth directly to Vikram.

Vikram, matching his father's protective nature, made a ironclad will. The moment Ananya became pregnant, he legally transferred his entire multi-billion dollar empire, all properties, and shares directly to his wife, Ananya.
Furthermore, Ananya’s own maternal grandfather had left a massive ancestral property and fortune in his will, stating that it would completely belong to Ananya the exact day she became a mother. This meant that Ananya was no longer just a wealthy daughter or a wife; she was independently one of the richest women in the country. Her own greedy parents and her ruthless in-laws had absolutely no legal control over her money. They had no choice but to nod and agree to whatever she decided, because crossing her meant losing access to a historic fortune.
Then came the tragic turning point.

It was a stormy afternoon when Ananya went into labor. She was admitted to the ultra-luxury VVIP suite of a private hospital. Miles away, Vikram received the news that his wife was about to give birth. Overjoyed and desperate to see his child, he left a crucial board meeting and sped toward the hospital in his luxury sedan. He never made it. A massive, speeding truck lost control on the wet highway and rammed directly into Vikram’s car. He died on impact.
At the exact moment Vikram’s heart stopped beating, a loud, healthy cry echoed in the hospital room.

Ananya gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom she named Mahi. Within an hour, the news of the tragedy reached her. The contrast was devastating. In a single afternoon, Ananya became a mother and a widow. Her golden bubble was shattered forever.
Months passed. The two families tried to closing in on her, trying to manipulate her into giving them control of the business, but Ananya, grieving and holding her newborn baby, refused to live in the main mansion. Using her immense wealth, she moved into an isolated, heavily guarded private villa.

To escape the fake tears of her relatives, she decided to dedicate her life and her late husband's foundation to charity. She started funding night shelters and food kitchens at the very edge of the city, right where the glamorous high-rises ended and the dark, filthy slums began. She thought she was doing a holy deed for her late husband’s soul.
She had no idea that the real, cruel world was waiting for her at that border. And sitting right in the dirt of that border was Shambhu.

Shambhu was a forty-eight-year-old vagrant who lived in the absolute gutter of society. He was a physically unattractive, repulsive man to look at. His skin was burnt dark and deeply wrinkled from decades of sitting under the harsh sun, covered in a permanent layer of street grease and dirt. He had a severe, ugly limp from an old bone fracture that had healed crookedly, making him drag his left leg whenever he moved.

His teeth were rotted and blackened from a lifetime of chewing cheap tobacco, and his hair was a matted, graying mess. He wore a torn, filthy undershirt and a stained lungi that looked like it hadn't been washed in years.

Shambhu did not own a shop, nor did he have a home. He sat daily on a torn piece of gunny bag by a pile of rotting trash at the entrance of the slum, begging for scraps or sorting through plastic bottles. But behind his watery, yellowed, and bloodshot eyes lay the mind of a master manipulator. Shambhu was venomously intelligent. He had survived the brutal streets not through strength, but by reading human psychology. He could look at a person and immediately see their weaknesses, their guilt, and their desires. He despised the rich with a passion, viewing them as arrogant fools.

As Shambhu sat in the dirt, wiping tobacco juice from his cracked lips, his yellow eyes locked onto a luxury, pristine white car that pulled up near the slum checkpoint. The door opened, and a beautiful woman in a pure white designer saree stepped out, looking like an angel who had accidentally fallen into a landfill.
Shambhu watched her carefully. He saw her innocent eyes filled with tears of sympathy as she looked at the poor. He saw her immense beauty, her rich body, and her total naivety. A dark, twisted smile crept onto Shambhu’s ugly face. He realized that this woman was the ultimate prize—an incredibly rich, pure soul who was completely ripe for manipulation.

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Ananya’s Beggar Addiction: The Billionaire and the Filthy

            I leaned my head back, closing my eyes as I felt the familiar surge of submission wash over me. I was older than him, a grandmother already, but in his arms, I felt like a girl discovering desire for the first time.

            "You're home early," I whispered, my voice trembling. "The food isn't ready yet, Naveen."

            "Who cares about the food?" He shifted his grip, his palms sliding down from my waist to cup my hips, squeezing the flesh firmly. "Look at you, standing here in this little housecoat, looking like a complete slutty bitch for me."

   A heat that had nothing to do with the stove bloomed between my thighs. I loved it when he spoke to me like that, stripping away my dignity and replacing it with a raw, animalistic need to please him.

"I am your slut," I whimpered, leaning into him.

            His hands migrated upward, sliding beneath the hem of my top. I felt his fingers brush against the undersides of my breasts, his touch possessive and demanding. He kneaded the heavy weight of my 39D breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra. I arched my back, a soft moan escaping my lips as he massaged the tissue, pulling and shaping me to his liking.

   "Still so full," he chuckled, his breath hot against my ear. "Thevidiya mundai. You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

     "Yes," I breathed, my hands gripping the edge of the granite counter. "Please, Naveen."

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he turned me around in his arms and captured my lips in a bruising kiss. Our tongues clashed, exchanging saliva in a frantic, wet dance. He tasted of peppermint and dominance. While we smooched, his hands worked with a practiced efficiency I barely registered. One moment I felt the air hit my lower back, the next, my clothes were pooled around my ankles. He had stripped me bare without me even realizing it, leaving me exposed in the middle of the kitchen, the steam from the curry clinging to my damp skin.

Naveen stepped back for a second, his dark eyes roaming over my body. He looked at the swell of my breasts and the curve of my hips with a hunger that made me shake. He stepped forward again, his tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe from my armpit down to my ribs. I shivered, the sensation electric. He moved to the nape of my neck, biting softly, then trailed his tongue down my spine, leaving a glistening path of saliva.

            I reached back, trying to guide him, but he silenced me with a look.

            "Stay still," he commanded.

            He dropped to his knees, his face pressing into my navel. He licked the indentation of my belly, his tongue swirling before he moved lower. He buried his face in the crease of my thighs, his breath hot against my inner skin. I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he licked the back of my buttocks, his tongue exploring every fold with a slow, torturous precision.

            He rose up and seized one of my nipples between his teeth, biting down firmly. I cried out, a mix of pain and intense pleasure shooting through me. I wanted to pull away, but I wanted him more. I cooperated, pushing my chest into his mouth, offering myself up to his whims.

      "The curry," I managed to choke out, glancing at the pot.

"Let it simmer," he groaned, his voice thick. "It's not going anywhere, and neither are you."

The aroma of the spices continued to enrich the air, blending with the scent of our arousal. I felt a strange, primal satisfaction knowing that while my body was being claimed by my husband, the meal was perfecting itself.

Naveen grabbed my arm and led me out of the kitchen, his grip firm. He didn't take me to the bedroom. Instead, he shoved me down onto the oversized leather sofa in the living room. The cool leather felt shocking against my heated skin. He stripped off his own clothes in a few swift motions, revealing his muscular build and the slight, masculine bulge of his belly that I found so alluring.

He crawled over me, his heavy chest pressing my breasts flat against the leather. He entered me in one sudden, powerful thrust. I screamed into the silence of the apartment, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

"You like that, don't you, you slut?" he hissed, his voice a commanding growl.

"Yes! Please, more!"

            The sound of our bodies colliding became a rhythmic percussion—the wet, shlicking sound of his cock sliding in and out of my drenched pussy. Each thrust was deep and uncompromising, hitting my cervix and sending jolts of electricity through my spine. I could hear the squelching of our combined fluids, a messy, visceral music that filled the room.

     He shifted his angle, lifting my legs higher. As he pushed deeper, his cock slipped out entirely due to the sheer lubrication of my arousal and the vigor of his movements. He let out a low curse, his balls slapping against my thighs with a wet thud as he repositioned himself. He plunged back in, the air being pushed out of my orifice with a loud, wet pop that made us both moan.

      I could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in my gut. He began to move faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I watched his muscles ripple in his arms and chest, the sweat dripping from his forehead onto my breasts.

"I'm going to fill you up, Jaisri," he groaned, his voice breaking. "Take it all."

"Give it to me! Fill me!"

He let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening as he delivered several final, punishing thrusts. I felt the hot, thick jet of his semen erupting deep inside me, pulsing against my walls in wave after wave. I climaxed at the same moment, my internal muscles clamping down on him in a series of violent, rhythmic contractions. We collapsed against each other, our skin slick with sweat and fluids, the silence of the room returning, broken only by our heavy breathing.

We stayed there for a long time, entangled on the leather sofa, the cooling air of the AC slowly drying the moisture on our bodies. Eventually, Naveen kissed my forehead, his tone shifting from commanding to tender.

            "Go check the food, love."

I stood up, my legs still shaking, and walked back into the kitchen. I tasted the curry, and a smile spread across my face. The flavors had melded perfectly; the spice was bold, the coconut creamy, and the fish tender. It was, without a doubt, one of the best meals I had ever prepared.

I plated the food and called him to the table. As we ate in the quiet luxury of our home, I looked at him—my husband, my master—and felt a profound sense of peace. The dinner was delicious, but the hunger we had satisfied on the sofa was the only thing that truly mattered.]]>
            A pair of strong, calloused arms suddenly locked around my waist, pulling me back against a broad, solid chest. I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs, though I knew that scent anywhere—sandalwood, expensive cologne, and the musk of a man who spent his mornings lifting heavy iron. Naveen pressed his face into the crook of my neck, his stubble grazing my skin.

            "Smells delicious," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that traveled straight to my core. "But I can think of something I'd rather taste."