Shyamala was widowed and had a one night stand with a black man in India. She was surprised when Musambamwana turned up at her flat six months later. This was the start of a long relationship. Shyamala also seveloped an addiction to smoking during the period.
Ding-dong, the door bell rang on a 5th floor apartment in Punarvasu in Mumbai at 5:45 AM. “Who in the world could that be this early in the morning?” Shyamala thought as she moved to the door. Shyamala’s daughter Rohini had left for college about a half-hour earlier. Maybe she had forgotten something she thought as she moved toward the door.
As she open the door her jaw dropped as she was greeted by the bright smile of a large Black man. She stammered “Mushambamwana, what are you doing here, how did you find me, what the…?” Her questions were silenced as Mushambamwana pushed his way into her home, kicked the door shut behind him and engaged her in a very wet kiss.
Several months earlier, Shyamala and Rohini had gone on vacation to Delhi and they sat next to Mushambamwana. Throughout the flight, she glanced sideways and admired the massive bulge of Mushambamwana’s crotch. Ever since, she had fantasized about him fucking her in every hoe of her body as she masturbated several times daily. As she went to the toilet in the plane, he opened her handbag and copied her address. Everyone has a fantasy and Shyamala had told her friend Kuntal that hers was to experience a huge cock, at least treble her husband’s three inches. Kuntal laughed and asked if that was really what she wanted and she had slowly shook her head yes. Kuntal said that maybe they could combine their fantasies since she had always been keen to watch an Indian woman accommodating a large crude Black man. Shyamala was shocked. She had never heard anything from her friend in their ten years of friendship to remotely suggest he would enjoy such a kinky scenario. She blamed it to hormonal changes taking place within Kuntal’s body, due to lack of sex.
Shyamala had been a great catch when she graduated from Bombay University with a master’s degree in psychology. She was 5'7" tall, with brown eyes and silky black hair that hung halfway down her back.
She was perfectly proportioned at 35-24-36. She married Mohanlal the year she graduated and their child, Rohini, came exactly one year later. It was the only occasion they had sex
Sex was boring as it was believed that Mohanlal was gay. Separation soon followed and Mohanlal drank himself to an early death.
Shyamala’s breasts were still firm, her hair was a bit shorter and she had gained a few pounds since college but she still turned heads at age 45. Her sex life was routine of masturbation. She had a gargantuan appetite and could have five orgasms in quick succession. There was the occasional boyfriend, but being Indian, they all had minuscule cocks and lacked stamina. Some of the sexual pleasures Shyamala liked such as oral sex and ass fucking, her sexual partners considered downright dirty and debauched. So the dissatisfaction in her sex life was palpable. Luckily, some African students lived in the neighbourhood, so when time permitted, Shyamala sneaked them into her flat on the pretext of coaching them for University admission, and had sex. Almost every time, neighbours had seen the black boys leaving her flat and they had started complaining to the housing authority. So although the sex with the Black students was good, the fear played on her mind….she needed independence in order to let loose and have fun! She should be happy if Kuntal could arrange something less benign. Shyamala had heard stories about being filled by a huge cock and wondered. When she finally told Kuntal about this dream, she dropped the black bomb on her. She really had never thought that Kuntal would have been so brash, but was pleasantly surprised. Shyamala started surfing the Internet and she had to admit, the more she researched, the more she got aroused at the thought of fucking a Black man.
Finally several months before the family vacation to Delhi, Kuntal and Shyamala had talked about it and agreed that Kuntal would arrange for a well-hung black man to meet her in the hotel in Delhi. Shyamala was going to arrange for Rohini to stay with her paternal aunt, Malati in Delhi. This way, Shyamala could let her hair down and enjoy sex with the Black man freely. That was how Mushambamwana ended up on the Delhi flight.
On arrival in Delhi, Malati was at the airport to collect Rohini, Shyamala lied that she had an urgent business meeting at the Taj hotel. She booked a pre-paid taxi and went to the Taj with Mushambamwana. As they sat in the back seat of the taxi, she continued to admire the bulge in his crotch. As they talked, she regularly let her hand flow freely and touched the bulge. It was difficult to feign illness that afternoon in Delhi when her heart was beating so fast. She was both nervous and aroused. And when Kuntal phoned from Mumbai she wondered if she could go through with it. She booked two separate rooms at the Taj hotel in order to prevent suspicion. After showering, there was a knock on the door, and there stood Mushambamwana, who had also showered and had that distinctive smell of a Calvin Klein fragrance. He was simply gorgeous. Six foot three, ninety kilograms of pure muscle and ivory white teeth. Shyamala melted when he smiled. And she quivered when he moved forward and stroked her hair. She asked if he wanted a drink and he had replied by picking her up and carrying her to the bed. He kicked the door shut as he walked towards the bed.
Soon, Shyamala was sucking on the object of her dreams a ten inch cock which was as thick as a folded up Poppy umbrella. Her jaws hurt as she struggled to get the cock in her mouth. She had never imagined that it would be so thick and she wondered if she really could take this massive tool.
It wouldn’t take long to find out as Mushambamwana moved between her legs and poised his huge cock at the very entrance to her womanhood. He had tremendous patience as he inserted himself inch by painful inch and she writhed beneath him.
When he had fully impaled her, he started to slowly stroke in and out and she soon adjusted to his size and began to move with him.
When he had moved to kiss her she had told him that the deal was no kissing. Mushambamwana said OK and stopped his motion. Then he slowly removed his cock from her glistening pussy. She asked him what was wrong and he said he really couldn’t get into it unless he was able to kiss the woman he was trying to please. She moved quickly to him and said that one kiss wouldn’t really hurt. As his tongue entered her mouth he pulled her to him and again inserted his tool deep inside of her. Soon she was moving in unison with him and experiencing orgasm after orgasm. When he finally came it was deep inside of her womb and she could feel his hot seed pump what seemed like gallons. Her late husband had never cum like this and… neither had she!
When they were finished she had gotten up and told Mushambamwana how wonderful he was. He looked her in the eyes and told her that he was just starting with her. She had eagerly returned his kiss as he picked her up and took her to the shower. They had sex too many times to count during the next several hours and she had long ago forgotten how many orgasms she had had. One thing she knew for certain was that none of her male Indian partners had ever cum five times during one session.
She was exhausted when Mushambamwana left Shyamala summoned housekeeping to change the sheets and towels. She immediately phoned Kuntal and told her that everything had gone as planned and thanked her for letting her experience it.
Still, some six months later, whenever she saw a well-built black man she quivered slightly and got wet thinking about her special day with Mushambamwana.
She pushed away even though that now familiar wetness was returning between her legs. “Mushambamwana, you can’t be here, especially at this time…it is still dark, what will the neighbours say???!!!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, but I am Shyamala and I am going to fuck you again!”
“Mushambamwana, Delhi was a onetime thing contrived to satisfy my curiosity!!!”
He moved to her and kissed her again and as his finger slipped under her skirt and pushed into her wet hole, she let out a lustful moan.
“Please don’t Mushambamwana,” echoed in the hallway as he scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen counter. He grabbed the large butcher’s knife from the counter and she gasped as he sliced her panties away. He dropped his pants and pushed his huge cock to her opening and easily slid into her soaked cunt. She had tightened up again and he made a mental note to make sure he didn’t let that happen ever again.
She moaned loudly and accepted him into her. They moved in a lustful rhythm and this time when his mouth pressed against hers, she eagerly dueled with his tongue. It didn’t take long for Shyamala to experience another orgasm at the hands of Mushambamwana and she had two more before he finally came. She was once again fulfilled and her eyes rolled back in her head.
She finally regained her senses and told Mushambamwana to leave her house immediately. Mushambamwana chuckled as he gathered her up and carried her to the bed she shared with her mother. She begged him but she knew it wouldn’t matter and secretly she didn’t care….she needed his huge cock!
Mushambamwana entered again and this time she eagerly spread her legs as he started to fuck her hard. Then, without warning he stopped. He looked into Shyamala’s eyes and said “Tell me you love me you Indian cunt!” Shyamala looked at him wide-eyed in shock. His cock stirred a little as he ordered again “Tell me that you love me you whoring cunt!” Shyamala whispered “I… lovvvve you Mushambamwana” He bellowed, “Louder you Indian whore!!!” Shyamala wanted his cock back in her so badly she shouted “I LOVE YOU MUSHAMBAMWANA!!” She was rewarded with the return of his piston-like assault. After several more orgasms, Mushambamwana came in litres and this time when he removed his cock he ordered Shyamala to lick it clean. She didn’t have to be told twice. He picked Shyamala up and carried her to the bathroom where they took a shower together rarely separating their lips.
After showering, Mushambamwana picked out an outfit from her wardrobe and ordered Shyamala to dress. She again complied and was led by the arm to Mushambamwana’s waiting Tata van downstairs. As the ignition key was turned he said “You won’t be coming home tonight, phone your mother and tell her!” They left for Mushambamwana’s flat in Dahisar where they spent the night. They fucked throughout the night. Pussy and ass fucking dominated the menu with the odd breather for oral sex. During the night, Shyamala smoked 40 cigarettes to stay awake and enjoy the sex; this was the start if an addiction for nicotine which remained with her until today.
The following day, Shyamala informed Kuntal that the ass fucking was sublime. She felt satiated in every way. This was the beginning of a long relationship. They often retired to a cheap hotel in Goregaon where they booked a room for a day and fucked all day long, shielded from racist stares.