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The speed with which the clouds
gathered and the skies opened
up took me by surprise. I was on
my scooter, driving back from a
work-related assignment in a
village about 100 km outside of
Delhi. Usually, I'd take the car for
such a distance, but it refused
to start in the morning. I
expected to return before
sunset, but the assignment had
taken longer than expected and
by the time I got done, the
villagers insisted I have dinner
before leaving.
So there I was, on my scooter,
close to 10 pm on a narrow local
road when it started raining cats
and dogs, as the cliche goes.
Since it wasn't the time for
monsoons, I expected the rain to
stop soon, so I just pulled over
by the side of the road and
stopped under a tree. Half an
hour later and the rain still had
not let up. I was completely
soaked, even under the tree. I
thought of calling home for a
rescue from my predicament as
I reached into my purse to take
my cellphone out, I felt certain
dampness.
That's when I realized I had taken
my fabric purse, which was
obviously not waterproof. The
cellphone was also wet, and had
conked off. Great, I thought to
myself. Stuck here with out a
working cellphone on a highway
late at night. Some vehicles were
passing by. I thought of flagging
one down. But there had been so
many news stories recently
about a group of men in their
cars or SUVs kidnapping women
from the roadside and raping
them, that I did not feel
comfortable doing so.
I decided the best course of
action was to drive until I
reached some village, and then
make a call from there. So I got
on my scooter and drove for
about half a km when
putt..puttt..putt...hisssss. The
scooter engine just stopped with
some ominous noises. I tried to
restart it. Even tried the manual
kick-start. Did not work. Great.
As if things couldn't get any
worse. Now I was soaked to my
skin, with my scooter and cell
phone refusing to work,
stranded on a deserted road at
almost 11 pm.
I stood there re-evaluating the
option of flagging down a car.
The rain had gotten even harder
now, definitely the heaviest
downpour in the region in years.
Finally I decided to take the
chance and stood by the edge of
the road waiting for some
vehicle to pass by. Nothing Zip.
Nada, for about 10 minutes. Not
a single car or truck. Was I in the
twilight zone, I wondered. That's
when I noticed a guy on one of
those old rusty bicycles
approaching from the Delhi side.
He was wearing a raincoat, and
had his eyes on the road, so did
not notice me immediately. I
called out to him and he stopped.
Crossed the road and came
close to me. Hello my scooter
has broken down and my phone
isn't working either. Do you have
a cellphone on you?" I asked in
Hindi. The man pushed his hood
back. He was bald and in his 40s.
Wiped the water from his face
and replied in Hindi, Cellphone? No.
I don't own a cellphone. But I am a
mechanic. Want me to take a
look at that scooter?
Oh, thank you. It will be great if
you can fix it. He got off his
bicycle, and started examining
my scooter. Why are there no
cars at all on this road? It's a
pretty bad storm, Madam. Trees
fallen all over. The road is shut on
the Panipat side about a km that
way. And on the Delhi side a
couple of km that way. I was just
cycling back home from the
garage I work at. It's just a km
away. This did not sound good.
If the road was closed both
ways, how was I to get home?
The man realized what I was
thinking from the worried look on
my face and said, Don't worry
about the Delhi side. They were
saying it will be cleared within an
hour. It's not a very big tree,
they say. He looked under the
scooter a few times. Took the
toolbox out of the side-box and
puttered around and tried to
start it a few times. And then
said to me, Sorry, Madam.
There is thingummy thingummy
with the thing ummy of the
thingummy and we need a
thingummy". Well, that's not
exactly what he said. But I am a
total dunce when it comes to
automobiles so he might as well
have said that and I wouldn't
have understood it any less.
Alright, so can you fix it?" I
asked. No, not here. Don't have
the tools and parts for it. But if
you like, we can go to my garage.
It's just a km away.
We'll get there in no time. There's
also a phone in the garage, so
you can call someone and have
them pick you up. That sounded
like the best possible option. So
we set off on foot towards his
garage. Him dragging my
scooter, and me rolling his
bicycle along, So Madam, if you
don't mind. What is your name?
Mukta" I replied, and out of
courtesy asked him, "and what is
your's?
I am Zahid Qureishi.
If you don't mind my asking what
is a young lady like you doing
here at this time? We usually
don't get Delhi 'memsaahibs' in
our parts. I had some work in a
village near Panipat, I was driving
back when this storm started.
Yes, this storm is really
unexpected. Never seen it rain
like this even in the monsoons.
He stayed silent after that, but I
noticed that he'd keep stealing
glances at me. I had been so
preoccupied with thinking about
the scooter and how to get
home, that I didn't realize how
completely soaked I was.
Fortunately, as I always do while
on village assignments, I was
wearing a very conservative
salwar-kameez (google it if you
don't know what that is), with a
long scarf around my neck and
chest. But even so, being as
soaked as I was, the fabric was
hugging some curves of my body
more tightly than it ever would.
Nothing too scandalous, mind
you, but I am sure it was
titillating enough for a middle
aged car mechanic like Zahid. His
name indicated he was Muslim
and Muslim women in those
parts dressed very
conservatively.
So I must have been quite a sight
for him. I tried not to think too
much about it though. Apart
from a few glances, which were
perfectly normal for any male,
he had been very polite and well-
behaved. I did not feel
threatened by him at all. Finally
we reached the "garage. I use
quote marks because calling it a
garage would be too effusive. It
was just a small tin shack,
probably no bigger than the
average bedroom. There was a
rusty signboard on top saying
"Madinaah Atto Garriage" with
some Arabic phrases on it.
Zahid put my scooter on its side-
stand and banged the metal door
of the shack. Who is it? came a
thick voice from inside. Mansoor,
it's me Zahid. Open up. The door
creaked open and out peered a
man I guessed to be Mansoor. He
was shirtless and wearing a dirty
pair of boxer shorts. He was a
small man, shorter than me, and
I am just 5 ft 3. I had a thick
beard, and curly gray hair. I'd
guess him to be older than Zahid,
maybe in his 50s. What
happened?" he asked, staring at
me.
This is Mukta Madam. She was
driving back to Delhi when her
scooter broke down. I saw her
when I was going home, so
brought her here. Hmpfff , ok
bring it in." Mansoor said and
opened the folding doors
completely. Zahid and I walked in.
It was, as I said, a small shack.
There was a small mattress in
the corner where I guess
Mansoor slept. The rest of the
shack was filled with two-
wheelers, their parts and other
tools.
The whole place also reeked of
something I couldn't quite place,
probably just grease and male
sweat. In another corner was a
chair with a table, and on top of
the table, a telephone. Can I use
the phone?" I asked yes sure."
Mansoor said as he started
opening the scooter's casing. I
picked up the receiver and held it
to my ear. Silence and No dial
tone. There is no dial tone" I said.
Mansoor came over and took the
phone from me.
As he did, I could not help but
notice his still shirt-less torso. It
was hairy, and he had a big pot
belly. There were some stains of
grease on his belly, chest and
arms. I guess the storm knocked
the lines out. Oh. Is there
someone close by with a
cellphone?" I asked. There's just
our garage and two other shops
here - one a tea stall and
another for hardware. Both are
closed, and the guys who run
them don't stay in the shops like
me. You will have to walk a couple
of km that way for any other
shops or houses."
I weighed my options. It was still
raining pretty hard. I could walk
to the other shops. But maybe I
could just wait for these men to
fix my scooter and then drive.
Zahid was already working pretty
hard at it. Mansoor went and
stood next to him and they
started discussing whatever
was to be done. That's when my
sneezes started. Achoo's after
achoo's. About a dozen or so and
looks like you are catching a cold
because of your wet clothes.
Mansoor said looking at me. "If
you want, I can give you a clean
shirt and a lungi to change into.
No, that's fine. I can wait. It won't
take long to fix this anyway,
right? It will take about an hour,
and he was interrupted by
another bout of sneezing from
me. After my sneezes subsided,
he looked pointedly at me. I could
feel the sneezes getting worse. I
decided that it would be stupid to
risk getting pneumonia when
there was an option to change
out of my wet clothes.
Ok, I suppose I should change
Mansoor went to the corner and
opened a box. He took out a
towel, a relatively clean t-shirt,
and a lungi. A lungi, for those who
don't know, is a sarong-like wrap
that many Indian men wear. He
gave it all to me and said as you
can see, there is no other room.
You can change in here. Zahid and
I will wait outside." They walked
out and I went to close the door.
It was just a rusty bolt which I
slid into the loop.
There was a nail hanging from a
thread from the bolt. The
purpose of the nail, as I later
realized, was to be inserted into
a hole at the end of the bolt, to
act like some sort of a lock. I
didn't realize it then and left the
nail hanging as it was instead of
inserting it into the hole. Which,
ironically, lead to further events,
I should have moved to the back
of the shack to change. But
whether it was the greasy smell
or just laziness, I did not. I
started changing just a couple of
feet inside the closed door.
I then took off my salwar and
kameez which were by now
dripping with water. I thought for
a second about keeping my bra
and panties on, but they were
too wet. So I took them off too,
and got completely naked. I took
the towel and started drying
myself. I was drying my hair
when it happened. The wind
suddenly picked up, and the door
started shaking from the wind. A
big and audible gust of wind
came and as if in slow motion, I
saw the bolt sliding back under
the pressure.
In what must have been just a
second, but felt like an eternity,
the bolt slid back completely and
the folding doors opened with a
bang. Zahid and Mansoor who had
been standing with their backs
to the door were startled by the
noise and turned around. I stood
there motionless with my hands
holding the towel to my hair, as
Zahid and Mansoor stared at me
dumbfounded. There I was,
completely naked. In front of two
men I had just met. I was caught
in two minds about what to do.
Whether to cover myself up or
close the door and my first
instinct was to grab whatever I
could and cover my nakedness. I
had grabbed and picked up my
salwar and kameez which were
bundled together on the floor at
my feet. I held them in front of
me and then ran forward to
close the door again. Which was
a big mistake and the gusty wind
which had blown the door open
was still blowing strong. My
hands were wet and slippery, as
were the clothes. So the gust of
wind blew my salwar and kameez
out of my hand and outside on to
the street and into the
darkness.
And once again my nakedness
was visible to the two men who
were still standing rooted to
their spots, a few feet away
from the door. I now decided to
close the door first. Because of
my hair getting in my face, I was
struggling to pull the door back
against the wind gusts when
whoooshhh something else flew
by me. The shirt, towel and lungi
that Mansoor had given me had
also flown out. Those were the
last possible things to cover
myself with. I could now think of
no short term fix to my visible
nakedness.
I sank to the ground, wrapped
my hands around my folded
knees, and hid my face in them,
hoping this would at least hide
my boobs and pussy. The face
was hidden mainly out of shame.
In a few seconds I heard
someone walk in and close the
door. I also heard a chuckle, and
then realized, I had heard only
one set of footsteps. I looked up
and saw Mansoor putting the nail
into the hole of the bolt.
You didn't put this nail in, did you?
I thought it was obvious that's
what it was there for." he said. I
just started at him, red-faced.
"Well, Zahid is out there running
after your clothes to get them
back. Good man, that Zahid.
Always does the right thing. I, on
the other hand, just had to have
another look. Hehe. Come on,
don't be shy. I've seen everything
anyway."
Mansoor was now standing right
above me. He was fully drenched,
as were his boxer shorts, and his
erection was adding to the
effect, leaving little to
imagination. I could not help but
stare at his penis and testicles
outlines through the wet shorts.
Which turned out not to be a
smart thing because he noticed
what I was looking at and said,
Oh, that interests you? Well,
fair's fair. You showed me
everything, so the polite thing
would be to do the same." and in
one motion he slid his shorts
down. I stared even harder. His
dick was circumcised, like all
Muslim men. I had so far been
with only Hindu men, and the only
circumcised dicks I had seen
were in porn films. I had often
fantasized about what it would
feel like to touch one, take it
inside, maybe even suck it. This
train of thought was running
through my head as I, almost
involuntarily, reached out and
touched the head of his dick. I
wrapped my fingers around it
and shook it around playfully.
Almost at once, the realization
of what I was doing hit me and
my hand froze.
I looked up at him with
trepidation. He seemed at a loss
for a few seconds. So far his
behavior was mostly about
bravado and arrogant needling.
He probably expected me to feel
shy and shrink back. And frankly,
I would have expected the same
from myself. But my unexpected
reaction had surprised him as
much as it surprised me. We
were motionless like that for a
few seconds. I staring at him
with his dick in my hands, and
him standing there staring back
at me.
Who moved next would be crucial
in deciding the turn of events. If I
had shrunk back, or maybe
yelled at him, he would certainly
have backed off. But my
motionlessness gave him the
opening he needed. He bent down,
grabbed hold of my hair and
pushed my face towards his
dick. I let go of his dick as it hit
me on the cheek. He pushed my
head back and pulled it again, this
time the dick hit my closed lips. I
looked up at him, and our eyes
met.
He gave me a stern look, a primal
dominant male look which I tried
to return with a laboriously
mustered up look of
resentment. Then he smiled and
cocked his head to turn his gaze
lower. I followed his gaze and was
shocked at what I saw. My left
hand was fingering my clit. And I
was now on my knees. My body
was reacting entirely on its own
without keeping me updated. Heh
hahahaha" Mansoor started
laughing. I couldn't help breaking
into what they call a shit-eating
grin. I felt his grip on my hair get
tight again. He pulled my head
towards his dick. This time I
opened my mouth and let it in.
Immediate reaction gag reflex. A
combination of the strong stink
of his dick as well as the fact
that he had thrust his cock all
the way in and probably hit my
tonsils. He took the dick out. I
turned my head coughed a little.
Then turned back to face his
dick. Took it in my right hand and
started sucking on it slowly,
using my usual blowjob
technique. The foreskin-less
head that I had encountered for
the first time felt nice, almost
like a big lollipop. I took it out
occasionally to glance at it, gave
it a peck or two. I was like a little
kid transfixed by a new toy.
Mansoor was now moaning in
pleasure and running his hands
through my hair. His eyes were
closed and he seemed to be
enjoying this blowjob. I had been
sucking for a couple of minutes
when there was a knock on the
door. Mansoor clucked his tongue
in annoyance, and said, that is
Zahid. Damn, I forgot about him.
He took the three steps to the
door, and opened it. Zahid rushed
in, holding just my bra in his
hand, and closed the door.Sorry
Mukta Madam, the rest of it just
flew away. This was stuck in a
tree so his voice trailed off as he
took in the scene in front of his
eyes. Mansoor was standing
there naked with his dick erect. I
was on my knees with my left
hand still fingering my clit. He
looked at Mansoor and me turn
by turn, and then said, "Oh, I see
been years since we banged a
chick together, old friend."
Mansoor said, slapping him
playfully on the back.
He then walked past me towards
the mattress and lay down on it.
He then beckoned me to go to
him. But is she, I mean how
come, Zahid tried to string a
sentence together, "You're not
forcing her, right? There was
silence for a couple of seconds. I
realized Zahid was looking at me
for an answer. With this break in
the proceedings and Zahid's
question, I had suddenly become
doubly aware of the situation. I
had been willingly sucking a
strange man's dick, a fat old
stinky hairy mechanic's dick, and
had been fingering myself while
at it for good measure.
Had I been forced? Zahid's
question gave me an exit route if
I were to take it. I momentarily
even considered it. But the work
my fingers had been up to down
there had put me in a different
state of mind altogether. The
normal demure Mukta who had
struggled a few minutes back to
cover herself up and close the
door had seemingly been carried
away by the gust of winds with
the clothes. This Mukta was
possessed, consumed by the
most animalistic and basest of
instincts.
I got up from my knees and
stood up. Slowly walked towards
Zahid and took the bra from his
hands and flung it into some
corner. Then I turned around, and
walked towards Mansoor,
swaying my hips exaggeratedly,
giving Zahid a great look at my
butt. I reached the mattress and
got down on my knees between
Mansoor's spread legs. Bent
down and resumed my blowjob.
Zahid did not need an engraved
invitation after this. He was out
of his clothes in a jiffy and was
on his knees behind me. He
fondled, pinched and slapped my
tight round butt for a while. Then
put his finger in my pussy, and
chuckled at the wetness. And
very soon ahha cock in my
pussy. It had been weeks. After
experiencing how a circumcised
cock feels in the mouth, I was
now experiencing it in the pussy.
Not too different in the pussy,
I must say. But there was much
more to Zahid's cock than just
being circumcised. There was
girth, the sort that I had never
experienced before. Zahid drilled
me hard and fast. His hand kept
moving from around my waist,
up my back, playing with my
boobs, back to my waist,
grabbing my butt flesh and so
on. His intense fucking distracted
me from my sucking and I was
just holding Mansoor's dick in my
mouth.
Mansoor took the lead then. He
got on his knees, grabbed my
hair and started fucking my
mouth. I was being pistoned hard
at both ends, and was
experiencing a never-before
bliss. Mansoor then started with
his smack talk, Oh yes, oh yes,
you randi, you slut. You like this
don't you, you Hindu bitch? You
like being fucked by two Muslim
dicks. Don't you? Don't you?
Answer me, slut." and he took his
dick out of my mouth.
Mmmm hhhmm, I moaned in
response as Zahid was hitting
the right spots and the right
tempo.Say it, bitch. Say you like
being fucked by Muslim dicks.
Yes oooo aahhh I like ahmmmm
being fucked ahhhhhhh by Muslim
dicks. Ohhh Zaahidddddd" I yelled
as the first orgasm hit me. I
don't know if Mansoor making
me acknowledge the taboo
nature of this encounter played
a role in it, but I had an
extremely intense orgasm. I
yelled and shuddered as it lasted
longer than usual.
Hear the Hindu bitch scream with
pleasure." Mansoor said
triumphantly "Bet she is a
Brahmin bitch too. Are you? Are
you a Brahmin slut? Yesssss" I
exhaled. Zahid was still at it. His
longevity amazed me. No one I
had slept with before could keep
going this long at this pace and
tempo. With some starts and
stops, and some change in pace,
yeah, many had lasted longer.
But Zahid was able to keep going
at the same pace, even with the
friction that his thickness and
my relative tightness must have
generated.
Amazing! Mansoor meanwhile
resumed fucking my mouth. In a
couple of minutes, his grip on my
hair tightened even more and I
realized what was about to
come. Within seconds, my mouth
was flooded with a big load of his
cum. It took me three gulps, but I
swallowed it. Wow, look how
easily she swallows, our little
Brahmin whore." Mansoor said. He
took his dick out of my mouth,
and used my hair like a napkin to
wipe it off
Good for fucking and for
cleaning, Hahaha" he added. He
then backed away and sat there
looking at us. Zahid continued
fucking me. It was now close to
twenty minutes, I thought to
myself in the lustful haze, and he
hadn't paused at all, even for a
second. As if on cue, he paused
and took his dick out of my cunt
with a small plop sound. Get on
your back." he said, "I want to
look at your face. I turned
around and got on my back.
Zahid put his knees on either side
of my butt.
He then took my feet at put
them on his shoulder. Then with
his hands grabbing my boobs
hard, he rammed his dick into
me again. And I almost came
again. At this angle, he had
reached even farther inside and
touched places that had never
been touched. And he started
yet again, at that hectic pace,
fucking me. Zahid-miyaan."
Mansoor said, "Good to see your
stamina has only grown with age.
But remember, you already have
six kids. You don't want a
seventh, do you, if you know
what I mean.
Yeah, I know Zahid replied even
as he kept fucking me. "I'm not
planning on cumming inside her.
Unless she wants it I am mmmm
ohhhh on the pill. You can cum
inside. I managed to get the
sentences out. I really was on
the pill, and the way this man
was fucking me, I wanted him to
cum inside me. Haha, of course
she is. That's how all these
Brahmin sluts are. Taking pills so
they can go around screwing
Muslims they like." Mansoor said.
Will you shut up about the
Brahmin-Muslim thing? I'm sick of
it." Zahid said, partly in
embarrassment. But it probably
did have some effect. He took
his hands off my boobs and put
them around my thighs. Still on
his knees, he straightened up
from the waist, lifting my butt
off the mattress, and started
ramming my cunt even harder. I
sensed what was about to
happen, and realized this change
of posture had started my own
orgasm. Zahid thrust his hips
ahead, then back, ahead then
back.
My whole body moved with him
as we both had our orgasms.
Zahid exhaled loudly, let go oh my
feet and stayed like that on his
knees. I was still writhing with the
after-shocks of my orgasm. I
could still feel his dick hard inside
me for about a minute more. He
finally took it out and sat there. I
took my hand to my pussy and
could not believe the amount of
jizz that was coming out of it. I
sat up, unsure of what to say.
Zahid seemed to be thinking the
same thing. And Zahid's rebuke
had temporarily shut Mansoor's
mouth too. Mansoor did however,
come close to me and start
playing with my breasts. Let's
work on her scooter." Zahid said,
and Mansoor reluctantly let go of
my boobs and followed him. They
both put their clothes on and
started working on the scooter.I
lay there on the mattress for a
while to regain my breath. It was
still raining, but the intensity had
clearly waned.
I got up and walked towards the
table. Picked up the phone's
receiver aaaah. The dialtone was
back. Phone lines were back up
dialed my home number. Hello.
Mukta here, I said. Mukta, where
have you been? I was worried
sick!" my husband said, clearly
worried. Sorry honey." I replied,
"It started raining very hard and
the roads got dangerous, so I
decided to turn back and return
to the village to wait the storm
out. But my cellphone got wet
and stopped working. And the
landline connections were down
too, so could not call.
Oh okay. Thank heavens you're
safe. I was really worried. So
should I come there and pick you
up? It'll take me just two hours."
hubby dearest asked. I felt
something poke my butt. I
turned around to see Mansoor,
naked again, with his dick erect
once more, grinning at me. He
put his finger on my clit and bit
my ear, silently chuckling. No,
that's fine." I said, struggling to
sound normal. "They have put me
in a small guesthouse of sorts
here. I will be fine.
I don't want you to drive in these
conditions. I've heard there are
many fallen trees blocking the
road. Plus, you have to work
tomorrow. Just go to sleep. I'll
come back in the morning. Good
night, honey. Mansoor's finger at
my clit had now found just the
spot and it took monumental
effort to say that whole
statement normally. Ok, good
night. And take care. This is the
number I can reach you at? The
one you called from?"
Yes, honey. Bye, I banged the
phone down breathlessly, and
yelled at Mansoor, What the hell
were you trying to do?" Hehe. So
the Brahmin slut is a married
lady too. Where is your
mangalsutra? You take it off
when looking for men to
seduce?" he said, I don't wear
one. What do you want anyway?"
I looked over my shoulder at
Zahid who was still working on
the scooter.
As great as your mouth was, my
dick would like to taste your cunt
too like Zahid did.
Something to keep us busy while
Zahid fixes your scooter. Also, I
was thinking, let's not distract
Zahid in here. So here's an idea
fifteen minutes later. Wet grass
feels really odd and squishy on
the bare back and butt, I thought
to myself as Mansoor lay on top
of me, his pot belly frequently
brushing against the bottom of
my boobs and his bear brushing
against my face, as he fucked
me gradually. The rain was still
falling, but was now down to a
drizzle.
We were fucking under a tree,
about 50 metres away from the
garage. I had never fucked
outdoors in the rain before.
Mansoor was not as good at
fucking as Zahid, but was decent
enough. Ahh that's a tight little
cunt you have, Brahmin slut
what's the matter, your
husband's Hindu dick is too tiny?
With Zahid not around, Mansoor
had returned to his offensive
smack talk. But the
offensiveness was oddly turning
me on. And making me talk back
some smack too.
Unhh why are you so obsessed
with my being a Hindu Brahmin,
you dirty old man? Fucking
Muslim women must be like
fucking a dead fish." I said as I
put my hands on his butt and
pulled him deeper inside. He
seemed surprised at me talking
back. He paused for a bit, and
took his dick out. He pushed my
butt sideways and said, On your
knees, Hindu whore. I will now
fuck you like a dog fucks a bitch.
I smiled wryly at him him and did
as he said. He first spanked me
for a bit, mouthing more
obscenities. Then he pummeled
my pussy for a while more. I was
about to orgasm. Probably
sensing that, he suddenly
stopped and pulled his dick out.
Argghhh why did you stop? I
yelled at him at looked back. "I
was so close. Give me your left
hand" he said. What? Just give it
to me. I did as he said and now
your right hand.
It took some effort but I did. He
held my wrists together behind
my back, and my shoulder was
mid-air. He gently pushed it down.
My face was now on the wet
muddy grass, with my left cheek
touching the ground. That's when
I felt it and his dick touching my
asshole. Surely he wouldn't. No,
not there! I yelled and tried to
struggle. But his grip was strong.
Yes there. That's what you get
for talking trash to me, bitch.
Know your place.
And he pressed it into my
asshole. It's not like I hadn't had
anal sex before. I had. But it had
been a while. So it hurt initially.
But after a couple of inches had
gone it, it was like my asshole
remembered how it is done and
relaxed. Damn, look at how easily
it went in. You really are a whore.
You clearly have done this
before. Why the drama then? It
felt the weird kind of good that
anal sex always feels. The
pleasure more mental than
physical as it happened, he didn't
last too long after that.
Shot his load into my asshole and
then just lay there on top of me.
We walked back to the shack.
Zahid was sitting there, and my
scooter had been put back
together. I checked the clock. It
was almost 2 am. The scooter is
fixed. And the rain has almost
stopped you can go if you want.
But somehow I doubt you will
leave this soon." Zahid smiled at
me. I smiled back and said, Well,
you heard what I told my
husband. I am supposed to be in
the village. So I can't go home
right now. Is there room for me
to spend the night here?"
Hahh considering what we have in
mind, we don't need too much
room." Mansoor interjected.
Zahid, this bitch has a fine
asshole too. Remember how we
sandwiched that whore in Ambala
that time? I think that's
definitely on the cards. Just give
me twenty minutes to recover."
Hope you don't mind us getting a
head start then." Zahid said as
he took me to the mattress. He
took his clothes off and lay down
on his back. I climbed on top of
him, took his dick in my cunt and
started riding him. He started
thrusting upwards. Mansoor
stood close to us, staring, and
rubbing his dick.
They did sandwich me in a while.
Zahid in my pussy and Mansoor in
my ass. And it felt fulfilling. We
took a nap after that. But
Mansoor woke me up in an hour
and started fucking me. Zahid
also woke up and joined in. That's
how it went all night. In the
morning, my pussy was sore, as
was my asshole, so I slept in an
they kept the garage closed.
Zahid and Mansoor went and
searched my clothes and
brought them back. I had one
farewell fuck each with both of
them, and left for home. I
promised to come back and
spend another night with them,
but never did. But often when I
pass by their garage on my way
to some place near Panipat, I am
reminded of that crazy night.
And I feel tempted to stop and
look in on them.
1 comments

anonymous readerReport

2011-10-30 02:20:07
extremely difficult to read.

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