Chapter 37: Kondesh returned with a video of Kamini riding Prakash
A damp patch already bloomed on his trousers, a testament to her lack of underwear. "You're so fucking hot and damp down there…" he groaned, his hands grabbing her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath the silk.
"And… you're leaving me all alone," she moaned, her head falling back as she continued to move, a lazy, hypnotic rhythm. The blunt head of his meat rod rubbed perfectly against her clit through the layers of fabric. Squelch…. A soft and damp sound came.
His answer was to fumble with his belt buckle, the clink of metal urgent. He shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his meat rod. His meat rod sprang up, thick and eager, slapping against his stomach.
A glistening drop of pre cum already beaded at the tip. Kamini didn't hesitate. She rose up on her knees, guiding him with one hand. With the other, she tugged her silken skirt aside, exposing her bare, dripping slit to the humid afternoon air.
Then she sank down. Slllllllurp…. The sound was obscenely damp, a slick, welcoming noise as she took every inch of him in one smooth, claiming slide. "Ah! Gods…!" Prakash cried out, his back arching, his eyes slamming shut.
She began to move, setting a punishing pace immediately. Her large, heavy melons, confined only by the embroidered blouse, bounced and jiggled with each forceful impact of their bodies. The hard points of her cherries rubbed torturously against the rough fabric.
Slap... Slap... Slap... The sound of their flesh meeting filled the quiet living room, punctuated by their ragged breaths. "Is this… a good enough… goodbye?" she panted, driving down onto him, taking him so deep she could feel him in her throat.
"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! Don't stop!" She rode him hard, her inner muscles clenching and milking his length. Glrk… Splurt… The damp, internal sounds of their coupling were music to her ears. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and changed her angle.
Mmmnpfh! The new position sent a shockwave of pleasure so intense her vision blurred. Her melons swung free, threatening to spill from her low cut blouse. Prakash's eyes were glued to them. "Your melons… I want to see them."
With a wicked grin, she reached down and tugged the cup of her blouse down, freeing one full, heavy melon. It bounced with her rhythm, the pink patch around her cherry, pinkish dark and taut and the cherry a hard pebble.
He lunged forward, capturing it in his mouth, sucking hard. Schlllp… The dual sensation his mouth on her melon, his meat rod pistoning inside her was too much. Her climax ripped through her without warning.
A silent scream tore from her lips as her body seized, convulsing around him in waves of exquisite torture. Splurtch... Gurgle… The muscles in her core pulsed and fluttered, pulling his climax from him.
He shouted as a raw, guttural sound and she felt the hot, sudden splurt… splurt… splurt… of his release filling her. She collapsed against his chest, both of them slick with sweat, breathing in ragged unison. It took several minutes for them to untangle.
He dressed slowly, his movements languid. She rearranged her Lehenga, smoothing the silks over her damp skin, a contented, thoroughly banged smile on her face. She walked him to the door, gave him a chaste, wifely kiss on the cheek and closed it behind him.
She leaned against the door, basking in the delicious, spent ache between her legs. The house was silent again. A knock on the door, firm and solid, made her jump. Prakash forgot something, she thought, a sly smile touching her lips.
She could manage just one more round quickly. She opened the door, the coy, innocent mask already back in place. It wasn't Prakash. Kondesh filled the doorway, blocking out the sun. He didn't smile.
He simply held up his phone. On the screen, playing in vivid high definition was a video. In the video her on top of Prakash slowly moving showing off her other face.
Her head thrown back, her melon exposed, her body slamming down on his, the damp sounds of their sex crisp and clear from the phone's speaker. Slap... Squelch…. Mmmnpfh…! Kamini's blood ran cold, then impossibly hot.
Her carefully constructed pretense shattered. There was no point in it anymore. The hungry, knowing look in Kondesh's dark eyes saw right through her. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click.
"You pretend to be a shy little housewife," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But you're a greedy little slut, aren't you?" The vulgar word from his mouth sent a shocking bolt of desire straight to her core.
She didn't deny it. She just stood there, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He reached out, not for her face, but for the neckline of her blouse. With one thick finger, he hooked it and tugged, exposing the melon Prakash had just sucked on.
The cool air pebbled the damp cherry. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped her. "Answer me." "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling with something that was not fear. His finger traced the swell of her melon, a feather-light touch that made her shiver.
"I've been hard since I walked in here and saw the way your saree clung to your hips. Knowing you had nothing on underneath." He pressed the pad of his thumb against her cherry, rolling it. A jolt of electricity, sharp and sweet passed through her.
She moaned, her knees feeling weak. Hnnngh… "On your knees…" he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. She sank to the floor, the silks of her Lehenga pooling around her.
She looked up at the massive bulge in his trousers, a true behemoth even in its dormant state. Her mouth watered. He unzipped his pants. His meat rod, half hard, was already a formidable handful.
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