Misc. Erotica Young Wife from India

Trying my hand now at an Old-Young story. I want to develop this further to include a relationship with the mother as well in a subsequent chapter.
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During the IT boom of the late eighties and early nineties, most mid-to-large companies in the US out-sourced their IT work to India based technology firms. As a Senior Account Manager for one such firm, I was responsible for identifying, selling and staffing projects at the American companies.

A project in early spring one year brought me to a quiet, modestly populated midwestern city. I had identified a smart guy in my parent company in India to execute the project and was waiting for him to join me. I had known him from my visits to our HQ. He was young, fresh out of college, nerdy, smart and hardworking. I was glad to have him and hoped he would be the first of many I would need to build a good team.

When all the documentation and formalities were completed, I was surprised to learn that he was going to have his newly married wife and mother-in-law in tow!

He was as green as they come. I had seen and worked with a lot of guys in the same position and had brought them up to speed in different parts of the US, wherever my projects took me, and Prakash was no different. This was his first visit to the US. I took him under my wings and showed him the ropes. For instance, he had not driven a car in his life so it fell upon me to drive him around initially. He had a long way to go in terms of his taste in work clothes and I helped him fix his wardrobe. As expected, he hit the ground running as far as work was concerned and I had no concerns from this quarter.

Fortunately, my wife took on the responsibility of taking care of his wife (her name was Aruna) and mother-in-law (I was not sure of her name!), and they all hit it off. It helped that all of us were from the same southern State in India and spoke the same local language. The mother was a few years younger than my wife, and the Aruna would have been the same age as our son (now in college in India).

Aruna was just twenty years old (I had seen this from the documents), and I had a little less than thirty years on her. She and her mother quickly adjusted well to life in the US but still maintained certain aspects of their Indian life and upbringing. Within a few weeks, our families grew close, as was expected, and we exchanged visits often, and frequently went out together. I had lots of opportunities to take Aruna in.

She was like a breath of fresh air. She was not particularly voluptuous or sexy. She was just this normal looking Indian girl from a small town in the South. She reminded me so much of the young girls back home. Watching her took me back to the days of my youth, high-school and college when my friends and I spent hours ogling girls and young women like Aruna in public. And masturbated thinking and fantasizing about them in the privacy of our homes. It was all that we could do in the constricting and conservative society we grew up in.

I looked forward to seeing and talking to Aruna. I caught myself staring at her on many occasions. She was well built and looked fit and toned. Her clothes clung to her body and accentuated her curves. Her breasts were big (not huge) and her waist was narrow compared to her hips. When she wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I found it very difficult to tear my eyes away from the way her ass cheeks stretched the fabric. My imagination ran wild whenever she wore the traditional Indian salwar-kameez or the sari.

The plumpness of her tits and her exposed cleavage drove me crazy. When we were close, I could smell the oil on her hair, the general natural aroma emanating from her body was so different from the fake perfume laden bodies of most of the women and girls I encountered. Her complexion was smooth and radiant without the need for makeup. She skin was flawless and was the color of light copper.

I found myself wanting to be around her more and more. I was infatuated with her. It was no surprise to me when I started fantasizing about her. She appeared in my head while I was having sex with my wife, which was the ultimate fantasy. I masturbated thinking about her. Frequently.

I timed my evening jogs around the neighborhood to coincide with her walks so I could approach her from behind and take a good look at her swaying ass, tight under her jeans. Some of her 'walking' pants were so tight that they bit into her ass and outlined her panties. For a panty man like myself, this was manna from heaven!

I visited Prakash on the pretext of talking about work so I could see her. On these occasions she would be puttering around the apartment in her gown (a comfortable dress that women/girls wore that covered them from the neck down, also used as a nightdress). It was loose around the front and when she bent down I could see her boobs clearly. When she got up, her dress made a wedgie on her ass, completely outlining her cheeks until she fixed it absentmindedly. I strived to chit-chat with her just to meet her eyes and hold them. To burn her images into my brain. She called be 'Sir' as a mark of respect and I wished she wouldn't. It made me feel old and make me aware of the difference in our ages.

I was jealous of Prakash. I envied the fact that he was having sex with her. I pictured them naked, him on top of her and she with her legs wide open accepting his thrusts, fucking like rabbits. She feeding him her tits and he fingering her hole. She sucking his cock (obviously thinner and smaller than mine!) Motherfucker!

One Friday evening we were visiting their house. The mother-in-law was a terrific cook and put out a mouth-watering spread for us. After dinner, an Indian movie was started on the DVD player. While others watched the movie, I watched Aruna. No one paid me any heed, but I did notice the fact that she was aware that I was looking her over. She looked at me once or twice from where she was sitting and I had to turn away sharply. This played out a few times, and I couldn't really help it. One time, she held my eyes for a little longer and asked, 'Sir, would you like some real South-indian coffee?'

I quickly said yes, and she got up to make coffee for all. I followed her into the kitchen, "Let me see how you make it. Your coffee is always soo good." Still, no one paid us any attention.

I stood close to her. I could smell her natural aroma, the herbal cream she had spread on her body, the jasmine scented oil on her hair. Her breasts rising and falling. I could see the straps of her bra, and the outline of the cups on her blouse. The sari had exposed her midriff and I could see very minute drops of perspiration on her back and on the small roll of fat on her hips. Her beautiful hands worked expertly on making the coffee. It was exquisite! I wanted this moment to last forever.

I had a feeling that she could sense the effect the closeness was having on me. Was she experiencing the same emotions? Was she excited also?

She abruptly turned towards me and said, "Oh, Sir. Our washing machine is broken I think. Water is leaking from it. I have not been able to run it this week. I don't know what to do!"

"Really?" I asked, distractedly, as I tore my eyes away from her. "Did Prakash take a look?"

"Uff ho, he wouldn't know head or tail of a Washer or what to do. I do everyone's laundry at home. Should I call someone? Can you take a look, Sir?"

"No, no," I said, reluctantly turning away. "Yes, I will take a quick look."

I walked to the closet where the washer-dryer was installed. I peered at the connections in and around the washer. Then I realized that it was still full of clothes. I had to take them out as I needed to look inside for some reason.

I opened the lid and began to lift the clothes and dump them on the empty laundry baskets nearby. I had pulled out the second batch of clothes and was about to transfer them to the baskets when suddenly she appeared, startling me.

"Oh, Sir. Sorry, I should have emptied it. I did not know you were going to..." She said, but paused as she saw me holding her clothes in my hand.

"No worries..." I started to say, and at that very instant some of the pieces slipped out of my grasp and fell to the floor. I instinctively reached out and grabbed the first piece off of the floor to put it back in the basket. I picked it up and realized with a start that it was one of her panties! It was pale blue with dark blue piping and border and I accidentally had held it by the crotch. (I swear. I remember it like it was yesterday!)

For some reason, I held my hand out to her and and froze. It was only for a second or two, then I looked up at her, again only for a second. She was also frozen in her tracks, clearly shocked and embarrassed to see me handling her intimates. She looked at me and what I held in my hand, and started to say something but she could only stutter, "Sir, sorr..sorry, I mean, I don't , didn't know..."

"Oh, no, no, no," I managed to say. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have..." But by then she bent down and collected the rest of the clothes in the baskets. She plucked her panties from my hand and put it on the pile on the baskets, lifted them and placed them on the shelf nearby.

But in her hurry to end the awkward moment, she had forgotten to handle her dress properly. The Pallu of her sari (the piece of cloth that goes over a woman's chest to cover her breasts) had slipped off of her shoulders as she bent down, and I had an unobstructed view down the front of her blouse. She was young, and her breasts were full and round and were jiggling in her loose fitting bra. The plumpness of the tops of her tits were clearly evident. I could make out the faint outline of a thick, distended nipple. Her breasts were not huge, but were big, and clearly profiled as they pushed against the light fabric of her blouse. She then realized what had happened, and almost certainly knew that I had seen down her blouse - she had bent down to pick up the basket and I had looked down at her and could naturally see what was provided as a view. She adjusted her pallu and covered herself. Her face was flushed and red in obvious embarrassment. All this transpired in a few seconds, during all of which I stood transfixed, following her moves, looking at her body, taking in her boobs, inexplicably rooted to the spot and unable to move.

I managed to look away at the instant that she looked up at me to see if I had take a peek, but I was a fraction too late. She knew I had. I hurriedly said, "Er, eh, I didn't mean... I don't know what is wrong with the Washer. I need to look again... Sorry for ..."

"It's okay, Sir," she said.

"OK," I repeated, and looked at her. She met my eyes for a brief moment, and then looked down and turned to walk away. I myself had turned to look back down into the washer, absentmindedly. I then realized there was one last piece down in the bin.

"Wait," I said. "There is one more." I reached down and pulled it out, and immediately regretted it. She had turned back to see what I pulled out, and I she and I both saw it at the same time. I looked at what I had in my hand. Fuck! It was another pair of panties! This time is was a purple number with dark horizontal stripes.

"Eh, no, er..I did not see it, I thought, all, I am sorry...," I mumbled.

She did not say anything, or meet my eye. She just stepped the few steps towards me, reached out and grabbed her panties and threw it on the basket, and left hurriedly. I had noticed her face turning another deeper shade of red as she walked away.

Man. What had happened? It was so embarrassing. But was it? I was embarrassed during the moment. But now, I felt something else. I had held a young woman's panties in my hand, unintentionally as it was, and she had seen me. She was embarrassed. But it kind of turned me on. Yes, those few seconds had aroused me. I realized I had a hard-on coming. Fuck! This was good! God, I could still feel the softness of her panties, the semi-hard crustiness of the gusset in my hand, the moist fabric. Man, I hadn't even seen my wife's panties in a while. In a long long while. The whole situation drove me wild.

But here I must stop and confess. My name is Vish, and I have a panty fetish. Enough said. And my brief encounter (real and not fantasized) with Aruna and her panties had aroused all sorts of emotions, feelings, desires and wants in me in those few seconds. I had a raging erection in my pants. I wanted to preserve these memories. I wanted to bottle the feel of her panties and store them for later use. Oh, to see her panties once again! To hold and smell them. Will I get another chance? What if she tells the story to my wife and her mother and laugh about it. Fuck that. She respected me, and I her in the normal sense. But the situation we found ourselves in those five or ten seconds showed the us man and woman we really were. She knew I had ogled her. I had feasted my eyes on her body. And she knew that I knew. There was no way for her to stop me from imagining things, to erase those images from my brain. There was no going back. I wanted more. I was convinced she would not share these moments with anyone. With any luck I/we would have more of these one-on-one experiences.

But I needn't have worried. The opportunity presented itself to me quite suddenly.

While I was figuring out what was wrong with the washing machine, the ladies had decided that the next day being a Saturday and coincidentally an auspicious day in our Hindu calendar, the family would have to visit the Hindu temple which happened to be about an hour away. My wife knew I wasn't religiously inclined so I wasn't included in the trip, which would entail a temple visit, lunch, and some other program in the temple in the afternoon, evening snacks and another visit to the sanctum sanctorum of the temple. Turned out I'd have the day to myself, after all.

"Ok, Prakash," I said. "Looks like you just need a new hose. Too late to go get one. I will get this fixed tomorrow while you are away."

But all of them were engrossed in the discussion and did not pay much heed to me. Prakash did not seem to notice as he was glued to the TV.

"Oh, that's alright, Sir. We are in no hurry. We can wait a day," Aruna said. I looked at her, and our eyes met. I expected to see some shyness or embarrassment, or an inkling of the recognition of what transpired between us, but she showed none. In fact, she held my eyes a lot longer than was necessary.

It was simple after that, actually. With all of them out of the way, I let myself in with the spare key (we exchanged spare keys to be used in times of emergencies. This really was one!).

I could hardly control myself. I hurriedly fixed the washing machine. The laundry basket was right where she had left it yesterday. My excitement was rising. Would the panties be still there? What if she had taken them away?! I reached up and pulled the basket down and rifled through it and to my utter relief, her undergarments were still there! With more from this morning!

I could see at least five pairs of different colors but the same not-so-expensive Indian brand. I picked and put the first one to my nose and sniffed the gusset. Heaven! I repeated this with all the other panties. The gusset of each of the panties was crusty, with the faint aroma of her juices and secretions in them. The more recently used ones were still moist in the crotch area. Man, this was ecstasy if ever there was one!

I could not control myself any longer. My cock was stiff as a pole and was straining to get out of my pants with a force that hurt. I had to wank, that was the only solution. I took the panties to the half-bath.

There I was, somewhere in the American midwest, in the half bathroom of a two-bedroom apartment, in a development called Mountain View, where there was neither a mountain nor a view of it.

I had Aruna's recently used Indian panties with me. I had the one with black stripes on purple held to my nose. I had the other light blue one wrapped around my throbbing swollen cock and was stroking it slowly with my other hand. The rest of he panties were on the floor.

Oh! God! How exquisite it was! The feeling of the Indian cotton panties on the thick vein on the underside of my cock! The smell of a cunt juices intermingled with a slight hint of piss from the one held to my nose. I imagined her wearing these panties. The gusset would obviously be tight and packed against her hairy mound. There would be hair peeking out from either side in front. What the fuck - maybe from the back near her asshole as well.

Goddam! I took it slow. I reached the edge and stopped stroking my cock. I switched panties and still got the same smell and sensations. I repeated the process numerous times with each of her panties. Fuck! This was going to be a great session!!

She was kneeling in front of me and I was holding her thick, black, shiny, jasmine scented hair with both my hands and was thrusting my cock in and out of her mouth. It made a squishing sound, and she was moaning in rhythm with my thrusts.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she moaned, with my distended penis still in her mouth. I could see the thick veins on my cock as they glistened with her spit.

No! She was on the floor with her legs spread wide apart and held back high with her hands behind her knees and I was plowing into her with long, slow thrusts. Then I increased my pace and finally was pounding her ferociously, grunting and struggling with each of my thrusts into her. She responded with grunts of her own,.

She cried, "Yes, yes, yes, sir! It is good. Fuck me! Don't stop. Aah, Aah, Aah. Amma, Aiyoh! It's so good. Do you like it? Fuck!"

A blob of precum oozed out of my cock head and I used her panties to wipe it off. And continued stroking my dick.

She was on all fours, and I was behind her, leaning over and grabbing her swollen tits and squeezing them. Then my hand was between her legs cupping her hairy (yes, she would not have shaved ever in her life!) mound, feeling the wetness and finding her hole, inserting my middle finger into her cunt, pulling it out and tasting and smelling her juices as I brought my hand to my face.

I slid my cock into her from behind, spreading her ass cheeks and taking a long, clear look at her puckered, hairy (yes, hairy!) asshole as it winked in tune with my cock going in and out of her.

"Oh, sir! So fucking good! Oh! How I like it!" she moaned.

I pumped my cock with my hand for about ten minutes, fantasizing in this manner and looking at myself in the mirror. Oh, how I wanted to fuck her! I wanted to touch every part of her body. Explore all her holes, cum in her hairy cunt and hairy asshole, cum on her pubic area, on her belly, her tits as she squeezed and presented them to me, on her face, in her mouth! And she swallowed!

I prepared myself for ejaculation. I lifted the toilet seat and saw myself sideways in the mirror. I took my hand away from my thick, black, shiny cock and it stood erect, jutting at an upward angle, the foreskin all tucked neatly under the huge purple head. I grabbed it again with my hand and in two pumps, I came. I saw my cock in the mirror as cum exploded out of it in great, long, thick white spurts. Motherfucker! What a release! What a feeling!

"Oh, sweetie, let me come on you. Take me on your face. Oh, I want to see it on your tits. Here I come! Owwww, owww," I screamed.

"Ok. Do it. Do anything you want, Sir. I want you. You are so strong. Your cock is so hard. Take it. Take me!

My first spurt fell on her tits as I scrambled up from between her legs and pumped my cock.

"Oh, yes. It's so thick...," she managed to say as I climbed up more and straddled her face.

My next three long spurts fell on her nose and forehead forcefully. She had closed her eyes.

"Aiyoo, Ouch!" she gasped, and turned her face. But I followed her with my cock and made sure the rest of my cum fell on her cheeks as she turned this was and that.

"Oh, fuck. God, Aruna, this is great," I gasped, as my spurts died.

When she realized I was finished and had no more cum, she opened her eyes and looked up at me. I was covered with sweat , panting, my breaths coming in great gasps. Her face was covered with my thick, white jism. She smiled at me, clearly embarrassed, but okay with what I did.

I managed to say, "Man, I haven't come like this in a loooong time. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This was fucking awesome." I flopped down beside her, and now she was smiling at me, and I could sense that she was happy for me, delighted to see me satiated and satisfied.

I looked down at the toilet and it had cum all over the upright seat and on the floor. My cock was still throbbing and jerking. Not much cum had really fallen into the bowl. I spent a long time cleaning up, using the toilet paper.

I made sure the bathroom was clean. And after taking a long sniff of each of her panties, I returned them to her laundry basket.

I should have stopped at that. But the pervert that I am, I decided to go two steps further. I ran the washer with her clothes. I left their apartment and returned after a while to transfer the clothes to the dryer, making sure I held each of her panties in my hands once more. I ran some errands and returned to take the clothes out of the dryer. This time I spent more time examining, feeling, sniffing her panties. Fucking hell! The things I could do.

I decided to first arrange all her panties and bras at the bottom of the basket. I lay them down neatly, one on top of the other without any wrinkles, and then threw in the rest. Something she said struck me. What was it? Something to the effect that no one did the laundry but her. So there was a slim chance of anyone else finding out what I did. I wanted her to know. Only her. Desperately. I wanted to send her a signal. But for what? What was I going to do? What would she do? What did I expect her to do? I had no answers to these, and a hundred other questions. We'll see, I told myself.

A few days later I ran into her for the first time after the encounter around their Washer. She was taking a walk with a few of the other ladies in our development and our paths crossed quite by accident. I was walking back after parking my car when I came across the group and I stopped to inquire about the husband of one of the women, as he had broken his arm a few days ago.

I spoke to the woman in question, but all my attention was on Aruna. I was sure she was aware this was the first time we were meeting after the panty incident. She blushed as I glanced at her casually, and he next time I looked at her after a few seconds, she had turned bright red, confirming that she had indeed seen what I had done with her panties and bra. That was our only encounter for a while.

Spring had turned to Summer and my wife was making arrangements for her annual pilgrimage back to India to spend time with our son and other family. She would be gone for a couple of months, but I was used to fending for myself. But since Prakash's family was there I would not wanting for food.

Curiously enough, Aruna and I had never been alone in each other's company since the time they came here. But with my wife gone, I was sure we would find time alone. I was excited and looking forward to this. But was she? She knew my intentions. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to sleep with her, and fuck her and do all sorts of things with her. She would have voiced her objections by now or confronted me as to my intentions. But none of this transpired, so I was hoping I could get it on with her.

I will not lie to you. It would not be the first time for me with a woman other than my wife. But that one instance was so long ago that I could not relate to you the circumstances even if I tried. I had forgotten the feeling, the touch and taste of a woman other than the one I was married to. But Aruna brought all the longing back to me. I wanted to get in between her legs and fuck her. I wanted to feel a young woman's body, mouth, lips, tits, ass, asshole, cunt. Man, How would that feel again! I was desperate. And this was a risk I was willing to take. No Guts, No Glory.

I did not have to wait long. The first weekend after my wife's travel, I was invited to dinner. It was uneventful for a while as we ate and chatted. But soon enough her mother went to bed, and Prakash had to logon to the company network (we had telnet and fast dial up in those days!) to perform some Production Support. This left Aruna and me in the living room to ourselves.

It was going to be awkward. Initially I had made all sorts of plans - what I would say and do. But at the moment I faltered. I mumbled something to the effect, "I think I will go now. Have some office work and need to talk to India."

She stood up, relieved that I made the first move, "OK, Sir. If you want to," she said, "But please have some more payaasam (a dessert) before you go."

She walked to the kitchen, but stopped and looked back at me. I was surprised. But if I understood her correctly, she wanted me to accompany her. I stood, looked around for Prakash or her mother, but each was in their respective rooms. I walked behind her to the kitchen.

She stopped and looked at me expectantly. Suddenly, all the courage and confidence slipped out of me. I suddenly said, "Aruna, I... I am sorry about what I did with your clothes. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't..."

"No, Sir," she interrupted me. "It is Ok. Not a problem. Nothing happened. No one knows."

All at once, I felt my confidence coming back to me. Suddenly I blurted, "Aruna, you know I desire you. I want to be with you. You know that. But I will not force myself on you."

"Sir, I am a married woman. I am scared. What if others find out. I respect you like an uncle, a father even. My dad is just like you. So..."

I said, a bit harshly, "No. I am not your uncle or dad. I am a man and you are a woman. That's what we are. I am sure I am not the first man to desire you. I fantasize about you. I lust for you. I want you to know that."

She was amazed. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, as if she had seen the devil. "Sir, someone will hear. Please don't say that loud. Aiyo!"

I moved towards her and put my hand on her arm. I realized she had not said 'No'. Yet. I had some time.

"Sir! No, not here!"

"Aruna, I will not force myself on you. Only if you say 'Yes'."

She had not moved, and did not push my hand away. She was still in shock. She turned her head to see if anyone was coming. But we would have heard. I made sure of that and my ears were tuned to any sound other that ours.

She turned towards me again. This time I placed my other hand on her side, and I ran both my hands down her body as I bent down to the floor. I quickly fell to my knees. I pressed my hands to the back of her thighs, and my face into her crotch. Her salwar bottom was very thin and I could feel the thickness and supple flesh of her pubic mound and the coarseness of her cunt hairs on my mouth through the layers of her dress. And just as quickly I got up and moved away from her.

"Oh! Sir! What are you doing?" she cried softly, as she moved a couple of steps back and turned away from me. I walked out and out of the apartment. I knew it was a matter of time. I masturbated hard that night, reliving the moment over and over again.

Prakash had taken to watching science fiction movies. One weekday we returned early from work as it was close to a long weekend, and he went out to watch a movie with one of the guys in the development. I turned on the TV and was preparing for a light TV dinner when Aruna came by with some food.

"Sir, I made this yesterday," she said, stepping inside, and added, "Prakash is gone to the movies. Amma has a headache and she is lying down." And she looked up at me expectantly.

I was surprised she told me this. I instantly realized she had about a couple of hours to herself. And for me,

"Aruna," I said, and reached out for her. She did not stop me. I pulled her to me and buried my face in her breasts. She put a hand on my head and ruffled what hair remained on my head.

"Oh, Sir. We have to be careful."

I was quickly aroused. My dick hardened in my pants and I pushed it against her thighs. She realized what was happening and moaned, "Oh! God!"

I turned her against the wall and thrust into her ass and ran my hands down the front of her body. I cupped a boob with one hand and ran the other between her thighs and placed my palm on her crotch. My hand pressed through the thin fabric of her slacks and I could feel her pubic hairs.

"Oh! Fuck, Aruna, I want this. I want you. Come. Come," I said, and dragged her with me to our spare bedroom. She was silent all the way. "Please wait. Don't go away, I will be back," I said.

I came back with a pack of condoms and lubricant. She was standing right where I left her but now she was staring wide eyed at me.

I went to her and began taking my clothes off.

"Sir.. I...," she began.

"Shhh. Don't say a thing," I whispered.

I took off my T-shirt. Then undid my belt and dropped my pants. My hard cock was straining against my underwear. I thought she was shy, but no. She dropped her eyes to my crotch and took an eye full of the bulge in my underwear. I kept looking at her as I pulled it down and stepped out of it. She continued to stare and her eyes widened further as my big, thick, black, erect cock came into view. I fisted it and pulled the foreskin back and exposed the shiny purple head. I took my hand away and my dick stood upright at an angle, jerking slightly up and down.

"Oh! What! My god!" she managed to say, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Take off your clothes," I said, looking at her. At this, she finally raised her eyes to me. She stopped for a minute, and them started unbuttoning her shirt.

I fisted my cock and started pumping it slowly, waiting to see her body. She dropped her eyes back onto my cock and was panting and breathing slowly as she observed me stroking it.

She did not wait to unbutton her shirt completely. She opened two button at the top and removed her shirt like a T-shirt and threw it down, and undid the buttons and zip on her slacks and stepped out of it. She was wearing the blue panties that I had seen before. Her panties was tight on her mound. The line of her cunt was clearly visible as it made a cameltoe on the front of her panties.

She stopped. It was her turn to see me looking down at her crotch. The whole atmosphere was erotic.

"Take it off, " I said, softly. She inserted her thumbs into the band of her but I stopped her. "Your bra first," I instructed.

I had stopped stroking my cock but I still held it in my hand as I watched her reach behind and unclasp the hook of her bra. She brought it in front and dropped it on the floor.

Her breasts were magnificent. They were firm and rounded. They stood up with no hint of any sagging. Oh! The half-moon shape of a young girls tits. Man, I almost came. Her nipples were round and even from where I stood I could see they were erect. They would be like stones in my mouth when I sucked them.

I started stroking my cock and moved my eyes down her body. She understood. She hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and pulled it down and stepped out of it. She was hairy down there as I expected. The line of her cunt was very dark and I could see it clearly through the thicket of hair.

I walked towards her but she turned and lay down on the bed. She crossed one arm across her tits and covered her pussy with the other, and turned shyly away after glancing at me. I lay down beside her and removed her hand from between her thighs and cupped her mound with my palm. It was very warm but I could also sense some moisture. She was obviously ready and horny.​