He hadn’t been with a woman for almost eight months. Stuck in a small town where he had been sent for his training and induction into the country, Hans was lonely and angry. He had made no friends quite simply because he didn’t know their language and they didn’t know English or French or Spanish – which were the three languages he spoke. It was only at the office that he was able to converse because the senior personnel spoke English; but they weren’t friends, although they’d invited him out to parties occasionally.
Hans had completed his management studies and obtained his degree from the IESE Business School in Barcelona, Spain. Now, he worked for a large European manufacturing conglomerate and had been chosen as one of three recruits to be sent to Asia. The other two had gone to developed countries; one to Tokyo and the other to Singapore. The recruitment board had told him that developing and underdeveloped countries were challenging, and hence more exciting. He had four more months here in the interior of the country before he could pack his bags and go back to the capital, where his firm had their regional headquarters.
Of course, the company had looked after his basic needs to the extent they could in this one-horse town. They’d rented a flat for him, arranged to have part-time cleaning and cooking staff, and had provided transportation — they bought him a second-hand 300 cc BMW G310R motorcycle in the nearest large city and had told him to go collect it. For all this, he was grateful, but the gratitude had long run its course and he sometimes rued his decision to take up this assignment.
The only women he had interacted with over the last eight months were the two elderly ladies that worked at the office, whom all the men-folk called “aunty” for some reason.
And of course, there was the house maid. She must have been about 45 years old, often had a tired look with a few unruly strands of hair always bracketing the otherwise pleasant oval shaped face. While she came to clean his house every day, and cook an evening meal for him, Hans never saw her during the weekdays. The only time they met was on Saturday and Sunday — she worked seven days a week — when she would come over to the flat and complete all her chores in the morning hours before noon.
Her name was Maitri, which he initially had difficulty in pronouncing but finally settled on something that sounded like “Matty”. It didn’t really matter because they hardly exchanged any words, other than the standard greeting of “Namaste” which she uttered with her hands folded on arrival and departure.
Today, Saturday, it was almost 10:00 a.m. and he was expecting her at any moment. Sitting on the first floor balcony that overlooked a large meadow, he was ruminating about a series of random thoughts that haphazardly ran through his mind. He liked this spot of the apartment because the only houses he could see were on the other side of the meadow, almost two kilometres away. But the stretch was green and dotted with cows, goats, and the occasional shepherd tending to his livestock.
His thoughts went to Matty as he lit his second cigarette after breakfast, taking a tentative sip of the steaming hot coffee he had just made for himself. He knew that the maid, like so many of the people he saw here, was poor. She had a husband who worked in a cheap hotel nearby, but they needed for her to bring in some extra income. She had a family but Hans did not know how many children they had, or what ages they were. But every Sunday, he would give her some extra money; the first time he did that she bent low to touch his feet and shocked him with the gesture. He had chastised her in English but wasn’t sure if she had understood. At any rate, she didn’t do it gain but always spent almost a minute thanking him with folded hands each time.
Matty, or Maitri, was only a couple of inches taller than five feet, wore her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, invariably dressed in the traditional ‘saree’ and blouse, and had a pleasant demeanour. In the first few months when his frustrated hormones raged crazily at the absence of any sexual release, he had spent much of his weekend mornings ogling the deep cleavage between her breasts. Whenever she cleaned the floor and the drape of her saree slipped off her shoulders, he would get that inviting view.
Or sometimes, when she was cooking, he would make frequent forays into the kitchen in order to get a glance of her profile which showed how large her blouse-encased breasts were. Often he would have to fight the urge to reach out and touch her bare midriff. Her blouse barely covered her breasts and her saree was tucked into a petticoat worn low on her waist; the intervening swathe of naked flesh titillated him no end. She was a little on the heavy side so there was a layer of fat that formed a thin tyre just above the saree, but that seemed to add to her appeal.
He would just stare at the nakedness of her dark brown skin and ache inside at the proximity of her body. Hans was too scared to go to a local brothel or even organise a whore to visit; and besides, he had no idea how he would go about such a liaison. He had often thought about offering Matty some money and entice her to just give him a blowjob, or even a handjob, but again was too fearful of the implications. And of course, he didn’t know the language or any other way of asking her. Instead, he would end up masturbating after she left.
Over the months, his mind had conjured up myriad ways of trying to get her to show some suggestion that she might be interested in him as well. There was a time when he had stood behind her while she was cooking and reached up to one of the high wall cabinets above her head, pretending to be looking for something. He had a massive erection inside his jeans and the bulge pressed against the maid’s saree-covered backside while he rummaged inside the shelving unit. But she only asked him what he was looking for and tried to apologetically move out of his way. He had pressed harder against her as he reached deep inside the cabinet. But when he thought she may get suspicious after more than a minute, he quickly grabbed whatever his fingers touched and pulled it out. It turned out to be a broken handle from an old frying pan, and he had to say “Ah! That’s what I was looking for!” before turning away and heading back to his living room.
On another occasion, when he was sitting on the balcony and spied Matty walking down the road towards his flat, he quickly got up and went to the bathroom. He took the two towels from the rack and dumped them in an untidy pile on his bed before going back into the toilet. He stripped his clothes off hurriedly and waited till he heard the maid insert her key into the door lock. Then, shutting the bathroom door, he stepped under the shower which he had kept running for a couple of minutes. Having quickly doused, soaped and rinsed himself, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower cabinet. In the silence, he tried to determine where in the house Matty would be.
When he heard chairs in his living room being pushed around, he knew she had started with her housekeeping chores. He unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, dripping and naked, and turned to the right heading to his bedroom. He pretended not to notice that the maid was right across from him and casually sauntered across a short corridor, leaving a trail of water behind him. He knew she would look up and couldn’t possibly avoid seeing him.
Hans was built like an athlete; in fact he had maintained a very busy sports regimen throughout his high school and university years. His 6’2″ frame was sculpted like an ancient Greek marble statue; broad shoulders and chest tapering down to a slim waist. Muscular thighs and calf muscles that matched the sinewy ripples on his torso, back and arms. And… he had a penis that hung almost five inches when limp; thick as a young woman’s wrist as it seemed to rest limply over his large testicles that somehow always looked full.
Of course, Maitri had seen all this in the few seconds it took Hans to walk from the bathroom to the bedroom. She was too stunned at the sight to pause and wonder why he had stepped out naked and drenched, considering she always left a pair of large fluffy white towels in the washroom. She was on her haunches, squatting, as she swabbed the floor with a wet washcloth. But on hearing the bathroom door open, she obviously looked up to greet Hans when this astonishingly handsome man walked out naked. She sat still, mouth agape, as her eyes followed him, catching a final glimpse of his taut buttocks as he disappeared into the bedroom.
Even after that she didn’t move, now mortally scared that he might soon walk out of the room and still be naked. What would she do? How would she react? She tried to will herself back to her feet so that she could move out of the room and perhaps go to the balcony. If he saw her, surely he would run back inside and wear something.
But at that time, her subconscious mind was playing games with her; she actually did want to see him again, bare bodied and raw. Almost on instinct, she had started re-swabbing a section of floor that was already cleaned, and inched her way towards the corridor that would allow her to see inside the bedroom. When she reached the doorway into the aisle, the bathroom was in front of her and the bedroom to her left. Surreptitiously, she twisted her neck and saw Hans drying his hair vigorously, his thick long phallus swinging limply as he towelled his head, face covered by the large towel. For half a minute, she just stared at his cock and the tick mass of pubic hair that surrounded the base.
Of course, Hans was unaware of her lascivious thoughts that day, or her clandestine ogling. He had given up hope that his provocative theatrics may have any impact on Matty. Now, as he sat on the balcony, taking a last sip of his tepid coffee, he wondered why she hadn’t arrived yet.
Still waiting for her, he noticed dark clouds in the sky drifting over the meadow; heavy and pregnant with rain. He was reminded of the time, barely three weeks ago, when he returned from a visit to a neighbouring township at about noon. He had got caught in a raging thunderstorm but had decided to keep riding his bike since he was only a few minutes from home. But those minutes were enough to drench him to the bone and when he got to his flat, he began sneezing immediately. Maitri was cooking in the kitchen when she heard him, and came rushing out with a look of deep concern on her face.
Without saying a word, she had got a towel from the bathroom and began drying his face and hair while he stood in the corner of the living room, water dripping off his clothes on to the floor as he kicked off his shoes. She spent two minutes doing that before handing the towel to him and then started unbuttoning his shirt. Hans had been too taken aback to resist. Instead, he just stood still with a crash helmet in one hand and a towel in the other, while she stripped him of his shirt. She yanked the garment out from where it was tucked in to his jeans, pulled off the sleeves and dropped it on the ground. Then, taking the towel from him, she wiped his chest and back and arms before unbuckling his belt and peeling his denims down his thighs.
She had gone down on her haunches and taken off each leg of the trousers before beginning to wipe his limbs completely, from groin to toe. Hans stood in his soaked underwear while the maid dried him down completely, and finally pulled his socks off. Then, taking his helmet and placing it on the floor, she led him by the hand into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Once the water was warm, she gently pushed him under it and walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack.
While the water warmed his body, he looked through the glass shower cabinet and the slightly open door, watching Matty pick up his clothes from the floor near the entrance to his flat. At that moment, it was just beginning to strike him that her hands had been only inches away from his groin. Although she didn’t exactly touch the bulge in his underwear, Hans couldn’t help wondering if perhaps she had wanted to. He had felt a stirring in his crotch and indulged briefly in a fantasy that had her coming into the bathroom right then, maybe to soap him. His cock was getting hard and he had realised he couldn’t, shouldn’t, pursue that line of thought.
Every time in the last few months that he had entertained such thoughts and hopes, he always remembered the HR briefing that the three recruits had attended just before they left for their overseas assignments. “Always remember that you are guests in the country that you are going to, and that you are ambassadors from Europe. Quickly learn the social customs and norms, and never violate them. Always behave with the highest decorum and respect their traditions and culture.”
***
Maitri, on the other hand, had struggled with her emotions and the conflict between her heart and her head. For weeks, she had witnessed Hans’ “accidents” where he had exposed his body partially or wholly, intentionally or inadvertently. She had been aware of some of the times he ogled her breasts, and was very conscious when he stood behind her in the kitchen pretending to reach for something in the upper shelves. But three weeks ago, when he had come into the house fully drenched, she knew that her instinctive reaction had been one of worry; perhaps even a sort of maternal concern.
When she was drying his hair with a towel, rubbing vigorously as he bent his head, she had felt her breasts push against his torso and the friction that caused her nipples to harden. In fact, her blouse had gotten damp as it brushed against his dripping shirt and that seemed to enhance the sensitivity of her bosom, centred around the nipples. When she undressed him and took the towel to his muscular body, wiping his chest and his arms, her heart began beating faster and she had felt a flush spread across her face and neck.
She behaved as though it was the most natural thing to do when she stripped him of his trousers and began towelling down his thighs and lower limbs. But she was very mindful of the bulge in his underwear, even though he was cold and limp. In one crazed moment, the thought of peeling off his briefs had crossed her mind but, as she thought later, sanity prevailed and she sent him off for a warm water shower instead. Even then, she had knowingly left the bathroom door open a fraction, hoping to feast her eyes on his masculine nudity.
That day, after the rain had stopped in the late afternoon, Maitri went home in a very pensive frame of mind. She realised that although she had not touched Hans’ body with her hands, only with the towel, she had craved the idea of feeling his bare body; had wanted it desperately, in fact.
She was surprised at how her body ached for that touch. Having married early in life, like all the women in her part of the world, she had now raised two daughters to adulthood, given them an education, and hoped they would do well in life. Soon after the younger one was born, her husband had stopped having sex with her even though she knew that he had other women. For all these years since then, she had not allowed another man to touch her even though many had propositioned her. She had, through the decades, maintained a relatively attractive body because of the physical labour that her jobs entailed.
She had, in fact, abhorred the local men that approached her; had a great disdain for them. Which is why she was surprised at her feelings towards the young foreigner whom she served as an employee. He didn’t look so much like a foreigner though; tanned brown skin like smooth leather, long dark black hair, brown eyes… he could have been any of those handsome young locals from the city college. But long forgotten emotions and desires were surfacing in her and she couldn’t understand why. Yes, he was a good man and never took advantage of her like so many of the locals had tried, but that didn’t explain her lust-filled infatuation; not at her age.
The following weekend, she didn’t go to Hans’ apartment; she’d told the gardener to pass on a message to him saying she was going out of town for a couple of days and would resume her duties on the following Monday. Actually, she’d been too scared of herself, not trusting how she might behave in his presence. She stayed alone at home over Saturday and Sunday while her daughters went to visit their father in the neighbouring town. Although she told everyone that asked – especially potential and actual employers – that she was married and her husband worked in a hotel, all the people in her immediate neighbourhood knew that they had separated almost ten year ago.
She struggled all week with her thoughts; especially when she went to Hans’ flat to clean and cook while he was away at the office. She touched his clothes, smelt them, and felt the blood rush through her veins as her pulse quickened. She found herself one day, last Friday in fact, looking at her reflection in his full-length bedroom mirror as she folded the washed and ironed underwear before putting them away in his wardrobe. She let the drape of her saree fall off her shoulder and looked at the buxom swell of her breasts, taking one hand and unthinkingly toying with her nipples as they grew hard.
Maitri put away Hans’ clothes and sat down on his bed, facing the mirror. Without conscious thought, she brought both hands to her boobs and began to knead them gently through the tight-fitting blouse. She pinched and pulled at her nipples, reminding herself of how hard and long they could get when she was aroused. She knew she was wet between her thighs as she stood up and looked at the curvature of her waist; the wide expanse of naked flesh below her short blouse and the top of her dress where it was tucked in to the underskirt. The deep navel, embedded in the middle of her upper abdomen, was darker than her coffee-complexioned skin and seemed to wink back at her. She let her eyes roam over the voluptuous hips as it expanded below her waist and then the contoured thighs tapered down towards her knees; the saree hugged her tight before the folds flared out and the pleats fell to the floor.
Maitri was pleased with what she saw; maybe a few extra pounds on the hips but otherwise she had a good figure. She knew she could be attractive to men if she tidied her hair and maybe applied a bit of makeup. Sitting down on the bed again, still facing her reflection, she brought her hands back to her breasts and felt the fullness against her palms, the rigid stiffness of her nipples pushing against the blouse. Her fingers found the tiny clasps that held the blouse together in front and she began undoing the four hooks from top to bottom. She then pushed a hand deep into the right cup of her 38DD brassiere and scooped out one large breast, feeling the succulent fleshiness in her hand. She took the stiff nipple between her thumb and index finger and twirled it, the pain adding to her pleasure as she tugged at the stony resilience of the nub.
She felt the heft of her breast, proud of its fullness even though the weight caused it to sag just a little bit. She pulled down the other cup of her bra, freeing her left boob as well and then used both hands to massage the tits in a gentle, slow circular movement. She saw the dark round aureola as her fingertips grazed over the tiny pimply bumps that had erupted over the surface; they were a shade darker than the protuberant nipples. She imagined Hans in front of her as she shut her eyes and pictured his mouth over her breasts, sucking the stiff teats as his large hands pawed and mauled her mammaries. Her fingers were almost violently twisting and pinching the nipples, so intense was her craving; she tweaked and pulled till her tightly closed eyes began to water from the hedonistic masochism that she was inflicting on herself.
She felt the itch in her vagina intensify as her inner lips swelled, the muscles in her body seemed to tense as her heart rate and breathing became faster. Maitri felt a desperate urge to touch herself between her legs. She freed one hand from her breasts and hastily pulled up the folds of her saree and petticoat till her thighs were exposed and parted wide. Taking her fingers to the crotch of her panties, she felt the dank wetness of the cotton as her nose caught a whiff of the fruity smell from her soaking vagina. She slipped her hand into the elastic band of her panties, felt the thick bush of her pubic hair before her fingers touched the protruding hardness of her clitoris.
She gasped and moaned loudly, falling backwards on to the bed as she raised her feet off the ground and placed them wide apart on the edge. With her knees bent and her thighs spread outwards, she shoved two fingers, the middle and ring fingers, into her dripping cunt. Her other hand still mauled her breasts, squeezing and palpating the abundance of her flesh. She thrust as deep into her slippery vagina as her fingers would go, ramming herself as her body writhed and her moans grew louder. She used her thumb to press over the unexposed portion of her clitoris, stimulating it as her hand kept jabbing into her genitalia, the panties now having been shoved down her thighs.
Suddenly, a series of contractions in her uterus, vagina and pelvic floor muscles racked through her body as she screamed, trying to muffle her voice but not succeeding. Her hips jerked and lunged upwards from the bed as she continued to stab her vulva with her fingers; heat radiated outwards from her pelvis and spread across her entire body. The sensory pathways of her nervous system frizzled with an acute charge of energy like a lightning storm before Maitri felt her body begin to relax. It took two minutes for her heart rate to return to a semblance of normalcy as her breathing slowed down and her muscles relaxed.
Her eyes were still shut as her hands moved gently, almost mindlessly; one lazily playing with her nipples while the other combed through the silken but moist and lush forest of her pussy hair. When her brain returned to a state where cogent thought was possible, she was amazed at what had just happened, and how suddenly it had happened. She hadn’t had an orgasm for so many years that she’d actually forgotten the effects of such an explosive experience, the final wavelets of which were still juddering through her body. She also hadn’t realised how her recent thoughts of Hans over the last few weeks had quietly raised her arousal level and sensual excitement.
As she continued her languid ruminations, a silence descended all around her. Till suddenly, she heard the approaching thrum of a motorcycle engine. She was so startled, she literally jumped off the bed, pulling her panties up and letting the petticoat and saree unfurl from their untidy folds around her waist and hips. Hastily, she pulled up her bra cups and pushed her boobs back in place before hooking the clasps of her blouse. Finally, draping the loose end of her dress, the ‘pallu’, across her chest and over her left shoulder, she straightened out the bed cover and went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face.
The sound of the motorcycle had died and Maitri wondered why Hans was back home so early on a Friday; it was not yet 3 o’clock in the afternoon. She didn’t know how long she had been in his bedroom, but was aware that it was still too early for him to return. As she wiped her face and hands, she looked into the mirror over the wash basin and realised she was flushed with embarrassment; the reddish tinge discernible despite her dark complexion. Just as she stepped out of the bathroom, she heard the key turn on the apartment entrance door.
***
As soon as Hans entered his apartment, he saw his maid walking towards the kitchen and called out to her, “Hello, Matty.” He was very pleasantly surprised to see that she was still working, not really having expected her to be at home. He took off his shoes and left them next to the door, placed his helmet and a shopping bag on a low armoire beside a table lamp, and began to follow her through the dining room into the kitchen.
“Namaste, Hansa,” she said, as she reached the sink, not turning around to face him. He liked the way she called him Hansa; there was an element of personalisation and intimacy to it.
“How are you, Matty?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen, removing his blazer on the way and draping it over the back of a dining chair. He shucked off his tie and flung it over the jacket, wondering why she hadn’t turned around to greet him or respond.
“I ok Hansa, why you early?” she asked softly in that broken English that he found so amusing.
In truth, Hans had been thinking of Matty all week and he found himself unable to concentrate on his work that afternoon, although everyone at the office believed he was a very hard-working and intelligent lad. But that Friday, even though he knew, or thought, Matty would have finished her chores and gone by the time he reached home, he found himself unable to keep working. He stopped on the way back, picked up a bottle of rum and another of gin, thinking he’d just relax and wait for her weekend visit. As he leaned against the counter, he replied “I finished work, so I came home.”
“I happy you come,” Maitri responded, still keeping her face averted.
“What’s the matter, Matty?” Hans asked, sensing a strange vibe in the kitchen. “Are you feeling alright?” Standing a few feet away from her, he looked at her and waited for her to reply. In the intervening silence, he once again took in the voluptuous curvature of her body. She was wearing a black saree with a thick red border that had some gold streaks running through it. Her blouse was red and the sleeves were longer than normal, coming down almost to her elbows. From the side, he saw the perfectly shaped bosom thrust out, pushing against the drape of her dress as it crossed her chest and fell over a shoulder. Once again, he took in the bare skin between blouse and saree and then the contour of her buttocks where the saree hugged her hips and arse before trailing to her feet.
Hans pondered her continued silence and pensive demeanour, but didn’t press it further; instead he pushed himself away from the kitchen counter and headed to his bedroom where he began to strip off the rest of his clothes. He could tolerate the heat but not the humidity, and took a shower every time he came in from the outside. Shirt, vest, trousers and socks all came off in a minute before he remembered that Matty was in the house. He peered around the bedroom doorway and when he saw that she wasn’t in view, made a quick dash to the bathroom and shut himself inside. Turning on the shower, he stood under the refreshing spray of cool water for a minute before soaping and scrubbing himself.
He thought again of Matty; he was thrilled that she was still at home but was getting concerned about her mood. Even then, his mind drifted to her body and his unquenchable desire for her; he so wanted to touch her, roam his hands over those Rubenesque curves, feel her skin. He wanted her to touch him, to feel her hands on his face, his body, anywhere. He thought of the times he had pressed against her, re-imagining those moments and wishing he could go beyond those childish overtures. Like so many times before, he found himself stroking his burgeoning penis with the shower-gel lather lubricating its massive thickness and fast-lengthening shaft.
But like always before, whenever she was at home, he pulled back remembering the HR directive to follow social mores and customs and so didn’t allow his proclivities to go any further for fear that he may act improperly in Matty’s presence. He finished his shower as his erection gradually lost its tumescence, dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and took the few steps to his bedroom when he heard the maid ask “You eat now, Hansa?”
Heading to his wardrobe, he called out saying “No, thank you Matty. I already had lunch before coming home. Thank you!” He took a faded black t-shirt and pulled it over his head and torso before reaching for the towel. Just as he was about to unravel it so he could put on his briefs, he saw her in his peripheral vision; she had stepped into the bedroom and stood by the doorway. For a second he thought that perhaps she hadn’t heard his reply to her question about lunch. He froze when he saw her move.
He was about to reiterate that he’d already had lunch when she took a couple of tentative steps into the bedroom and towards the wardrobe. Hans took his hands away from the towel, leaving it wrapped around him as Maitri walked through the short gap between the edge of the bed and the almirah. She pushed one of the open fly doors shut, stepped in front of him, and then reopened the cupboard door again. They stood facing each other in what felt like a small darkened cubicle, the tall wardrobe behind her, the two hinged doors on either side, and the side of the bed behind Hans. There was barely enough standing space for one person but she squeezed herself in and stood silently in front of him, their bodies flush against one another’s.
The top of her head was a couple of inches below his chin as he tried to look down at her, but couldn’t. He was so totally taken aback, Hans lost all control of his mind, unable to think a single rational thought at what seemed like completely irrational behaviour. Or any thought, for that matter. What was happening? Was Matty ok? Was this some strange local village voodoo practice? It took him at least a minute before the darkness in his brain cleared and he realised that the woman of all his carnal dreams was almost in his arms.
With her back against the edges of various shelves and the vertical divider in the wardrobe, Maitri stood firm and unyielding, her large breasts pressed hard against Hans’s chest. But he had no support behind him; instead the edge of the bed was nudging the back of his legs, almost forcing him to buckle his knees and collapse on the mattress. He was compelled to raise his hands and place them firmly on her hips, holding tight so that the pressure from her body didn’t force him backwards.
“Matt..,” he was about to call her name when she raised one hand and placed her fingers over his lips, craning her head backwards so she could look up at his face. He looked into the dark pools of her eyes and saw an expression he had never seen before; and also didn’t comprehend. Her fingertips moved tremulously over his mouth and Hans found himself parting his lips. Maitri pushed a finger in and felt the warm wetness of his tongue; the feeling seemed to completely overwhelm her as she suddenly wrapped both her hands around his neck, drew his head down, and planted her mouth on his. For a whole minute she pressed her lips warmly against his in fervent osculation, moving her head in a feverish desperation that shocked Hans.
But he was too stunned and just stood immobile, his hands still holding on to her bare waist with a relatively firm grip. As he grew conscious of her passionate kissing, he felt the first probe of her tongue into his mouth and instinctively coiled his own around hers. He felt the blood rush through his veins and the arousing growth of his phallus as it swelled behind the curtain of his bath towel. Her fingers embedded themselves into the thick curls of his hair as she pulled his head hard against her face; deep rumbling, almost feral, groans emanating from her chest and throat as she continued to kiss him fervidly.
Things moved so fast after that for him; Hans remained mentally stupefied but his youthful hormone-infused body was as alert and sensitive to every move his Matty made. He felt one of her hands leave the back of his head and descend to her waist where she gripped his wrist and dragged it up to her bosom. He clung to the other side of her body with his left hand, slipping it behind her so he could get a firmer grip and hold himself upright without falling back on to the bed. His right hand, meanwhile, broad palm and strong fingers, clamped on to her ample breasts although he tried to be gentle.
He moulded his hand over her boobs and kneaded them, feeling the glorious fullness as he shaped the pliant flesh in his palm. He felt the nipples stand out beneath her blouse and teased them with his fingers, conscious of how firm and large they were as they jutted against the fabric.
Maitri had brought both her hands to her blouse and her fingers were furiously plucking at the hooks down the front, trying to get them open. When she had the last one undone, she grabbed Hans’ hand and shoved it inside her brassiere, groaning at his touch on the naked breast. While he inhaled a large gulp of air as his hand clamped over her right tit, scooping it out of the bra, her own hand went down to his groin and slipped between the fold of the towel. Her palm and fingers encircled the massive erection as the large cotton wraparound fell to the floor between their feet. His cock was stiff and upright, the fiery red glans touching the base of her prodigious boobs as her hand tugged frantically at its eight-inch length.
Animal-like growls escaped from their throats simultaneously, their mouths seeking one another’s as the months-long pent up desire began to surface in their bodies. Their tongues lashed inside each other’s mouth as the heat spread across their insides, fanning out from the central core of their genitals to the extremities of their limbs. Hans wanted to rip the blouse off and get his mouth to her tits but that would require him to sit down on the bed which, for some reason, neither wanted to do just yet. In a futile attempt to use his left hand, which was holding on to her waist and back, all he managed to do was drag the two yard long end of the saree drape, the pallu, off her chest and shoulder. Hanging from the tucked-in portion of the saree, it sailed down to the floor.
For almost five minutes their osculating lips, her pulling and stroking on his phallus, and his groping hands on her breasts ramped up the intensity of their passion as they breathed heavily and their hearts thumped in their chests. Their bodies moved as though they were on fire, twisting and pressing into each other in a ritualistic dance of spirited vehemence.
So frenzied was their passion that neither of them noticed the growing darkness surrounding them, or the loud thunderclap of a cloudburst as the skies opened up and torrential monsoon rain descended outside. The intense crack and rumble of thunder only camouflaged the heightened decibel level of their voices as flashes of lightning tore through the shadowy darkness.
His hand slid down the back of her waist till his fingers were clawing over her saree clad rump, pulling her violently against himself. He was about to drop down and sit on the bed, wanting to bury his face between her breasts when Maitri began to turn around. She moved slowly, not wanting to release her grip on his steely cock. Thirty seconds later, she had swivelled a half circle and faced the inside of the cupboard, her chin resting on a small pile of vests on one of the shelves. Her breasts thrust forward into the space between two racks of the shelving unit.
Hans hooked his fingers around the neckline of her blouse and inched it backwards over her shoulders; then began peeling off the long sleeves. Maitri dropped her arms to help him extricate the garment which he finally managed to pull off. For a while, he wrapped his arms around her middle and looked at the dark brown skin from her neck to her waist, the chocolate hue broken only by the starkly contrasting band of her white brassiere. He leaned his head down and breathed in the earthy smell of her pheromones from the slight sheen of perspiration, and also her axillary sweat. His lips delicately touched the space between her shoulder blades as his face skimmed the surface of her back.
For a brief moment their heated bodies simmered as the frenzy of their movements gave way to a period of relative calm, both of them absorbing the delicate nature of Hans’ touch as the tip of his tongue traced invisible lines on her naked skin. His scorching phallus was upright, pressed against her lower back as she leaned into the inside of the wardrobe. His hips moved slowly, keeping pace with his lips, deftly grazing her body. Maitri swayed her buttocks in tandem, the folds of her saree chafing the base of his cock and the heavy suspension of his testicles. A slow dance began, raising their temperatures again.
Hans took his hands away from her waist and brought them to her back, his fingers slowly unhooking each of the three clasps on her brassiere. With the last one undone, he saw the band loosen and pushed the straps off each of her shoulders. Maitri brought a hand to her chest and took the undergarment, placing it on a shelf inside the almirah; she was resting on her forearms which were folded in on one of the racks. Her breasts hung pendulously as Hans brought his hands to them and cushioned them in his large palms.
He felt the weight of her boobs; they were heavy and not as firm as they looked when she had her bra and blouse on. He was now rubbing his thick upright penis against her, feeling both the saree and her bare skin against the length of the rigid shaft. He ran his fingers over the full and hefty slopes of her bosom before his fingers found the nipples. He circled his fingertips around them sensitively, lightly touching the goosebumps that had erupted over the areolas. Maitri squirmed as another deep moan escaped from her throat, her haunches pushing backwards against the solidity of Hans’ cock.
As he pulled her long stony nipples downwards, pinching them between thumb and forefinger, she reached one hand behind her in an attempt to grip his penis. Hans alternated between tugging at her teats and groping the well-endowed plenitude of her weighty breasts. Both Maitri and Hans remained in the throes of their carnality, still not cognisant of rational thought as they continued their physical discovery of each other.
When she managed a tentative hold on his cock, Hans groaned so loud it even drowned the ambient sound of the thunderstorm raging outside; he thrust his hips forward, grating his rampant erection along the soft palm that encircled it. He straightened up and tore off his t-shirt, throwing it aside before gripping his maid’s wide hips. She lost her grip on his phallus as he bent his knees and pushed the stiffness against her ample buttocks, impatient with the black saree that still covered the lower half of her body.
He lowered both his hands down the sides of her flanks and grabbed the folds of her dress, along with the petticoat below it, and pulled it up to her hips. He hurriedly pushed the saree up around her waist, bunching it over her lower back although the front portion of the garment still trailed down. Maitri parted her legs a little wider and reached a hand between her thighs, once again trying to find his penis but only managing to grope his testicles. She wrapped her fingers around the suspended sac and tugged at it with a small amount of force.
Maitri was in an absolute frenzy; although not thinking with her brain, long dormant instincts goaded her to a dizzyingly feverish pitch. In the early days of her marriage, her husband and she had wasted little time on foreplay so she didn’t know the full extent of possible sexual pleasures. He only fucked her, never really made love. What little she did know came from the quiet intimate moments she had spent with herself, masturbating. But even that had been a long time ago. The sensations over the last few weeks, and today, were almost new to her although her body seemed to have an instinctive prurience that had surprised her when it surfaced.
Hans, on the other hand, had enjoyed the pleasures of a hedonistic youth although his sexual experiences were limited by his age. Apart from a couple of girlfriends in Barcelona, and one short tryst with a girl in Paris just before he left for Asia, Hans was not overly experienced. In fact, over the last few months that he had craved for the pleasures of Matty’s body, he had often been anxious about his lack of prowess compared to whom he saw as a mature and seasoned woman.
For a brief second as he began to peel off her panties, pulling them off the copious spread of her hips and buttocks, he prayed that he wouldn’t cum too soon. Maitri was shimmying her haunches, hoping to hurry him, wanting to feel his gigantic cock in her cunt. He pared down the white classic briefs over her arse and pushed them down her thighs till they reached her knees, then let the undergarment drop to the floor. She extricated one foot and spread her thighs wider as Hans planted his hands on either side of her rump and pushed his upright cock against the crack between her gluteus.
Over the next minute he sandwiched the vertical rod between her arse cheeks, pressing them together as he slid the stiff shaft in the valley. Maitri once again reached between her legs and fingered the drenching wetness of her vaginal lips before beginning to toy with her clitoris. His fingers dug into the surprisingly firm buttocks as his long hard penis glided along the crevice, tantalisingly close to her anus. She was flagellating her clit and pushing her fingers into her vagina, juices streaming over the back of her hand.
Hans looked down at his thick shaft skating along the gorge between the luscious halves of her bottom, but he stared idly. He was still in thrall of the physical sensations and the decadent self-indulgence of the moment; the nakedness of his voluptuous maid-servant whom he had lusted after for so long. Amidst the groans and loud moaning sounds that she emitted, Maitri was also muttering words in the vernacular that he couldn’t quite understand. One or two that resonated in his befuddled mind sounded almost vulgar, and that seemed to goad him on even further.
He finally took his stiff cock in one hand and forced it downwards, positioning the tip between the soft bulbous mounds of her outer labia, the wetness of her secretions almost sizzling on the fiery red-hot head of his phallus. They wasted little time after that; as soon as Maitri felt his penis press near the opening of her vaginal canal, she pushed her haunches backwards and snagged his glans and another inch of his rod.
Hans stalled for a few seconds because he suddenly, and unexpectedly, became aware of how tight her cunt was. With both his hands on her arse once again, he dug his fingers into the flesh and stretched her buttocks apart when he restarted to push himself into her. But he did it slowly as Maitri groaned loudly and stopped fingering her clit for a moment, focussing instead on accommodating his humongously thick rod past the stretched vaginal introitus. It took her a while but once she got used to the girth of Hans’ organ, she began to rub her clit again while uttering those words in her local language which he couldn’t understand, and didn’t really care.
He pushed himself deep into her lubricated vagina which had lengthened during her arousal, taking his time till the tip of his cock touched her cervix. With his groin flush against her glutes, he bent over slightly till is upper abdomen was over her lower back. He reached underneath her chest and took the pendulous mammaries into his hands, groping and squeezing the mounds of flesh as he began a slow back and forth movement with his hips. He found her long nipples and pulled on them briefly before continuing to knead her breasts. He withdrew his steely hardness out of her hole till the frenulum snagged on the tight rim of her vaginal opening, and then pushed it back all the way into her.
Despite his previous sexual encounters, Hans felt the lustful pleasure of having penetrated the woman of so many recent lurid dreams; the warmth and the wetness of her cunt enveloping his shaft felt like nothing he had experienced before. The dark smooth skin of his maid, the sensuous curves and voluptuous contours of her fleshy body, the snug grip of her pussy around his cock, the smell of raw sex that wafted up to his flared nostrils, the sounds and utterances that she spouted; all mixed in a cocktail of pure heady corporeal lustfulness.
Hans increased the pace of his thrusts, his fingers now hooked around the uppermost end of her thighs below her hip-bone as he pummelled her with growing intensity. Five minutes later he was like a jackhammer banging into her as Maitri howled and squealed, her fingers vigorously rubbing her clitoris. She felt another orgasm approaching as one hand was riveted to a shelf and the other flagellating her vulva. The massive rod in her cunt filled her up so completely, she felt a pressure in her bladder as though she was about to squirt a profuse amount of urine. Her heartbeat was rampant and thumping at a breakneck speed when she felt the involuntary reactions of her genitals overcome her.
The contractions in her vagina, the pelvic thrusts that met each stab of Hans’s penis, the twitching of her muscles and the coiling of her fingers and toes, all peaked in a sudden blitz of sensations that rippled through her body. For more than 20 seconds, Maitri’s body was wracked with convulsions, her moans sounding debauched and wanton in the most basic way. Her fingers still hovered over her dripping vulva and she felt the thick shaft of her employer’s cock crashing into her incessantly, becoming conscious of his testicles slapping the inside of her thighs.
Before she had fully recovered from the uncontrollable spasms that had torn through her, she heard the most feral animalistic roar from Hans as he slammed his massive erection viciously into her cunt. He held nothing back; months of pent-up libidinous energy exploded as his volcanic eruption spewed out a voluminous amount of thick warm semen into her depths in rapid-fire staccatic jets. Behind his closed eyes, electric sparks flew across the black canvas as he lost all conscious awareness. His grip on Maitri’s hips were like vise-like clamps and his thrusts were like a pulverising pneumatic tool that had run riot. Every millisecond, he ejaculated ropes of cum into her vaginal canal, filling her completely with his fluids in the span of a few seconds.
After his last convulsive thrust, Hans felt so drained of his strength that he folded his body over Maitri’s bent back as he clung to her waist and belly with one arm and wrapped the other around her massive orbs. It took almost two minutes before his thick rock-hard penis began to lose some of its tumescence, albeit only fractionally. The fire dissipated but, like an ember, his shaft continued to radiate a certain energy in her cunt as she squeezed the last drops of semen by gripping his cock with contractions of her vaginal muscles.
Maitri felt his hot ejaculate seep out of her vagina as cool trickles began to stream down the insides of her thighs. She wanted to turn around and hug Hans, hold him against her breasts and coddle him as her endorphins and oxytocin hormones infused her with a great love for him. His heaving and rapid breathing slowly returned to normal as she began to straighten up, but he was averse to disengage from her, now becoming increasingly conscious of the warm steaminess that surrounded his phallus inside her snatch. But he straightened up with her, keeping himself embedded in her yoni, his arms still coiled around her torso.
Given his height being almost 12 inches more than hers, she inadvertently rose up on her toes as Hans refused to extract himself from inside her while his shaft still penetrated her almost vertically from below. But given his suddenly depleted strength, his knees buckled as he felt the edge of the bed press behind his legs. He flopped down on the mattress with his arms still around her, pulling Matty down with him.
They both giggled as they manoeuvred themselves along the bedsheet and rested their heads on the pillows, stretching out their legs. Miraculously, his lengthy phallus remained entrenched inside her cunt as he hugged her from the back, his thighs flush against her rear. Maitri wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, not just because she knew her vagina was going to overflow with his cum and mess up the bed, but also because she had an intense desire to urinate. She mumbled a few words in an appeal to Hans to release her but he seemed loathe to let her go.
However, despite not understanding her exact words, he sensed the urgency in her voice and grudgingly loosened his grip from around her, allowing her to slip off the bed. Before getting up, she leaned into him and kissed his lips lovingly, her fingertips tracing his jawline. “My beautiful boy,” she whispered in her language, as she walked out of the bedroom looking back at him. She left her blouse and panties lying on the floor as she held up her saree and petticoat around her waist, went and used the WC and bidet, and then washed her face with soap and cold water. On her way back to the bedroom, she removed the long length of her dress and unknotted the cord of her petticoat, leaving both garments on a chair in the room.
Then, stark naked, she got on to the bed and lay next to Hans, pulling a duvet over them. He turned on his side, buried his head in her bountiful breasts and seemed to fall asleep. She took a hand to his head and gently massaged her fingers on his scalp, combing through the thick long curls of his hair as she began to contemplate the happenings of the last couple of hours since Hans had returned home.
Although the sound of thunder and the crackle of lightning had stopped, the rain still poured heavily and the breeze directed the cascade against the bedroom window panes. The ambient sound made Maitri drowsy and she began to drift into a somnambulant doze, her mind still a jumble of thoughts that flitted between love, lust and guilt. She had been physically overcome by the consummation of all her recent hot-blooded libidinous desires; more than she could ever have imagined, but now would come the deep introspection around her conservatively-minded unchaste behaviour.
***
When Hans woke up, he had a smile on his face; he immediately remembered the afternoon and the delight of having finally crossed the rubicon line of social restraint that had bound his conscience all these months. He opened his eyes to darkness and wondered whether it was because of a heavily overcast sky or because the sun had set; he had no idea what time it was. As the fog began to clear from his mind, he thought he heard the patter of rain outside and wondered whether Matty had left while he was sleeping after their wildly passionate coition.
When his eyes adjusted to the near darkness, he realised that there was a faint light filtering in from the short corridor that connected all the rooms in the flat. And also that the sounds he heard were not from the outside but from his bathroom instead. He threw his feet off the bed and picked up the towel lying on the floor. Wrapping it around his waist he walked out of the bedroom and stood outside the bathroom door on his left. The shower was running. He looked to the right at the living room and saw that a table lamp had been switched on; Matty’s slippers were still by the entrance, next to his own shoes.
He walked in to the living area and then out onto his balcony where he sat down on one of the rattan cane chairs, the darkness in front lit by the twinkle of lights across the meadow and a dim streetlamp a few awards away from the house. It was still drizzling, but the temperature had dropped considerably as he sat bare bodied. He was reliving his memories from the afternoon when he heard the bathroom door unlock and waited for his Matty to find him.
A few minutes later, he felt rather than heard her presence at the door connecting the verandah to the drawing room. Turning his head to the left, he saw her leaning against the door jamb and looking down at him.
“Hi Matty,” Hans said, reaching out a hand towards her. She came away from the doorpost and silently slipped her palm into his as she took a few steps forward and stood at a slight angle from him. Whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.
“Wow!” he gasped, “You’re a very sexy woman, Matty.” During the afternoon, he had not really got a good look at her, given how sudden and fiery their love-making had been. But now she stood in front of him wearing just her white brassiere and a black petticoat. The underskirt was worn unbelievably low, leaving little to Hans’ imagination. From the light coming through the doorway, he could discern the V-shape of her lower abdomen descending in an oblique down to her vulva, with a hint of the upper fringe of her pubic hair visible above the petticoat waistline.
Her bra fit nicely over her boobs, the plunge-line exposing a deep cleavage between the two mounds. Centred between the high points of her hips was a deeply indented belly-button in complete darkness. With her arm stretched out, her hand still being held by Hans, he could see the tuft of hirsute axillary hair in her armpit. He gaped at her, enthralled by the rustic beauty that he had dreamed of for so long but never seen in such a state of undress. This buxom and curvaceous woman was so totally different from the European girls he had seen in their bikinis, or even the two girlfriends he had seen naked. There was something natural, earthy, unsophisticated and raw in this beauty.
He pulled her hand gently, wanting her to come and sit on his lap. He placed his free hand on her waist and tried to drag her down to him but she resisted, saying “No! you eat something. Must be hungry. You eat long time ago.” She released her hand from his grip and turned back into the living room, heading through the small corridor, past the dining room and into the kitchen. She had not completed her cooking that afternoon, having got caught up in her incomprehensible lustfulness, so she began to make some sandwiches with tomatoes, ham, cheese and whatever else she could find in the refrigerator.
Hans obediently complied with her direction and went to have a shower instead. He dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and a fresh sleeveless muscle shirt before going into the kitchen. Unceremoniously grabbing a sandwich, he ate in three short bites realising how hungry he actually was. Demolishing another two triangles of the ham and cheese with white bread, he spied the bottles of alcohol he had purchased that day. “Let’s have a drink, Matty. What d’you say? Let’s sit outside and have a glass of rum.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the back of her neck before extracting a tray of ice from the fridge and emptying it out into a wooden ice bucket. Then, carrying two glasses, the ice, the half-litre of rum and a bottle of water, he went out to the balcony. Maitri remained in the kitchen for a while, nibbling at a slice of bread and some tomatoes. She was desperate to go and sit with Hansa, spend the rest of the evening and night with him, but she was confused. Like she had been for every moment that her brain had the opportunity for logical thought.
Was she exploiting this nice, handsome boy? She knew he had lived alone for eight months and probably never had any female company. Of course, he would need sexual release. She knew he masturbated because, during her cleaning chores, she sometimes saw different signs of his ejaculation. But that was to be expected of a young man like him. What she had done, on the other hand, was basically take advantage of his oversexed anguish and despair at not having a woman companion. She knew she was almost twice his age, and was it fair for her to capitalise on his youthful hormones that were bursting for some form of discharge?
But her fondness for Hans, and the tempting possibility of what may happen next, were too much for her to resist. She stepped into the bathroom on the way to joining him, knotted her hair neatly into a tight bun at the back of her head, looked at her semi-nude self in the mirror, and then proceeded to the balcony. By the time she got there, he had poured out two shots of rum, poured some water and topped up the glasses with ice. Maitri dragged a footstool from the corner of the balcony and sat down next to Hans, facing the darkness outside.
He had learnt enough over the months not to ask her to sit on the second chair; it was a wonder she had chosen to sit on the stool rather than on the floor at his feet. In fact, Maitri had made a lot of allowances because of her affection and feeling of tenderness towards Hans. For instance, she would never have considered eating from the same plate as him, or drink from the same glasses he used. And of course, to sit in his presence, or that of any man, wearing nothing but a brassiere and petticoat, would have been sheer madness. But then, what could be more outrageous than having sex with someone outside marriage, leave alone a foreigner, and that too a boy! The world would think she was a whore if anyone ever found out.
But she trusted him; and that was at the core of all her emotions. For Hans, on the other hand, there was no perception of social or economic divide; he didn’t even think of the age difference or the language barrier. He was just amazed at the fact that this sybaritic woman and indulged all his fantasies and that, sitting there next to him, she was as real as it gets. Sipping their chilled dark rum, he couldn’t take his eyes off her while she stared pensively into the night.
He looked at the top of her head with the long hair wrapped into a thick knot, random strands coming loose; looked pointedly at her face as he took in the dark complexion and pleasant lines of her cheekbones. For the first time, he let himself absorb every detail of this phantasmagoric woman that had been working for him all those months. He looked at the soft full lips glistening with the liquid and wanted to kiss her, taste the alcoholic beverage on her mouth and tongue. He reached out and touched one brown shoulder, his fingers grazing against the 20mm wide white bra strap.
Since Maitri was sitting at a lower level than him, Hans took in the low plunging décolleté of the brassiere and the fullness of her boobs filling the DD cups. There were clearly no underwires in the bra so the entire weight of her wholesome breasts caused a certain sag to the cups, which Hans found tantalisingly natural and perfect. He was getting a hard-on just ogling her while she took tiny sips of her drink and stared straight ahead, not looking at him. She had pulled up her black petticoat above her knees and it looked as though she was wearing a short skirt, her lower limbs and bare feet exposed to the elements.
Hans finished his drink and reached down to the low plastic table top where he proceeded to pour himself another round. Maitri took a last sip and finally turned around to face him, placing her glass on the table. “You nice man, Hansa,” she said softly as she looked at him sombrely. He saw the wistful and dreamy look in her eyes and his heart seemed to melt; he felt both grateful and amorous at the same time, yearning to take her in his arms. Instead, he placed his left hand on her shoulder again and let his fingers roam over her trapezius and along the crook of her neck; he traced gentle fingertips along her jawline and down to her clavicle, seeing the indent above her collarbone.
Gradually, he let his hand roam down to the swell of her upper breast and pushed his fingers into the cleavage between her boobs as he heard her take a deep breath and saw her shut her eyes. Hans took a large gulp of his drink, almost draining it, before his hand traversed back to her chest and neck and shoulders. His fingers skimmed across the dark skin like the kiss of butterfly wings on the delicate petals of a flower. He took his hand to her face and brushed her lips with his fingers, pausing briefly to push a tip into her mouth and feel the wetness of her tongue. He glossed her lips with the saliva and continued touching her cheeks and then went back to her neck and shoulders and bosom.
The warm buzz from the rum was seeping into both of them; Maitri was soaking in the delectable pleasure of Hans’ touch, feeling the glow from an inner source spread across her entire body. His hand was now spreading across her breasts, the palm scorching her taut nipples as he slowly swept over them. His penis had already grown large enough to make a sizeable bulge in his boxers, the soft cotton fabric tenting like an obscene pole from his groin.
She suddenly stopped him by leaning forward and splitting the remnants of the 500ml bottle of rum, pouring them into each of the glasses. Hans, shaken out of his ambling reverie, reached for the ice and water to top up the tumblers. He then sat back, keeping his hands to himself, while Maitri stood up and walked to the railing at the edge of the balcony. Leaning against the barricade, holding her drink, she raised her face and looked up at the dark sky. A light drizzle had started again, along with a gentle breeze that blew drops of rain against her upturned face and near-naked chest. She had no fear of being spotted by anyone, confident that there wasn’t a soul in the wide expanse of the meadow in front; not at that time of night, or in that weather.
The alcohol had certainly made her less inhibited, but it had also upped her arousal levels as it had with Hans. He handled his booze well, but she was no novice either. Lit by the faint lamp light emanating from the living room, he stared at Maitri’s back. The long neck and broad shoulders, the tapering down of her torso to a waist that wasn’t exactly narrow but still produced a shapely curve before the swell of her wide hips. The central spinal column of her spine was in shadow as it ran down to her coccyx, the tailbone, before disappearing into the low slung waistband of her petticoat. A thin fold of skin on the sides, near her hipbones, suggested the slight tyre of fat on her belly. The faint light cast a strangely metallic hue across her body, as though a honey bronze oil had been sprayed over it.
Hans placed his glass on the table and rose from the cane chair, took a couple of steps towards Maitri and stood directly behind her, encircling her waist with his arms. He felt the slight splatter of raindrops on her stomach as he bent his neck and kissed her head, breathing in the fragrance of bath-soap that rose in aromatic waves from her skin. He brushed his lips against her shoulders as she shuddered against his masculine chest, pushing her body back against his. They stood for a while, staring ahead, each with their own thoughts; his palm idled across her front while she leaned back into him, comfortable in his muscular embrace. She held on to the bannister with one hand and rested her glass on its surface with the other.
Hans became gradually more fervent over the next minutes, his sexual desire for Maitri getting more impassioned as both his hands now moved over her body. He palmed over her brassiere, feeling the distended expanse of her breasts overflowing the cups. His fingers reached inside and touched her nipples; they were already erect and hard against his fingertips as he circled them and triggered the goosebumps on her areolae. She brought her free hand up to his forearm and loosely held his wrist as it moved languorously over her skin.
When one of his hands was softly grazing over her belly, he felt the tendrils at the edge of her pubic hair protruding over the top of her petticoat that was worn low on her hips. Fingering the bristle for a few seconds, he moved his hand and made contact with the drawstring that tied the underskirt in place. It was a simple bow knot and he pulled on one end, releasing the pressure of the waistband around her. Below the knot was a five-inch slash in the garment; Hans slid the fingers of his right hand inside and then followed with his wrist till he felt the lush undergrowth of her pussy hair. With his other hand he wedged the petticoat lower, pulling it down till it stretched across her buttocks, partially revealing the fissure of her arse. She was not wearing panties.
The turgid bulge in his boxer shorts pressed against Maitri’s backside as the fingers of his right hand plunged into the luxuriant profuseness of her underbrush. He clutched at the thick mat of her hair, pressing down on her vulva and the bulbous spongy thickness of her outer labia from which the abundance sprung. His fingers probed further till they met the soggy cleft between her inner lips as he stroked the gash. He heard Maitri groan as she clamped her thighs together and squirmed at his touch, almost dropping the tumbler that she still held.
Hans leaned hard against her back as his hand reached lower so he could insert two fingers into her cunt, probing as high into her as he could. She shivered as her knees and thighs trembled; involuntarily, her knees bent as she lowered herself to meet his penetrating fingers. When she felt a sudden weakness in her limbs that was about to make her body collapse, Maitri straightened herself and turned around to face Hans, forcing him to extract his fingers and wrap both his arms around her. He took the near-empty glass from her and leaned backwards to place it on the table.
The gentle breeze and constant drizzle now began to lightly spray her back as she draped her arms around Hans’ neck and drew his head down so she could kiss him on the mouth. Almost immediately, their tongues began to probe and dance in each other’s wide open mouths, lips blending in an impassioned urgency while his hands moved over her naked back. He lowered them down her spine till both his hands grabbed her buttocks and massaged the voluptuous mounds of flesh with strong clasping fingers. He pulled her tight against him and the solidity of his cock pressed against her abdomen as they continued their breathlessly torrid kissing, tasting the sweet rum on one another’s mouths.
As his fingers clenched and unclenched on her generous buttocks, prodding the moist depths of the abyss between them, Maitri unwound an arm from his neck and dropped it down between their bodies. She found his huge hard-on and seized it in her hand, stroking through the cotton fibre of Hans’ undershorts. He gasped and clutched harder at her rump, pushing the petticoat further so that it finally went past her derriere and floated to the ground. Maitri pulled up a leg of his boxers and slipped her hand inside, taking his solid unyielding manhood in her grasp. She tugged at it for a while before deciding to rid him of the encumbrance of his drawers.
She hooked her fingers into the elastic band and pushed the underwear all the way down to his ankles, even helping him to step out of them. His cock, erect and upright, brushed against the top of her head as she straightened up and took him in her hand once again. They embraced almost naked, his phallus now upright and sandwiched between their bodies. He deftly unhooked her brassiere from the back and pushed the straps off her shoulders, dropping the intimate apparel on the plastic table behind him. He then took her breasts in one hand, once again filled with amazement and the wholeness and shapeliness of her mammaries.
As he twirled and circled her nipples with his fingers, Hans bent his knees and placed his mouth over her boobs, licking the almost two-centimetre long erect nubs. He sucked on them while carrying the weight of each breast in his hand, moving from one to the other. Maitri had her back against the railing as she cradled his head against her bosom and revelled in the intoxicating ecstasy that his tongue was lavishing on her. He lashed his tongue across the protuberance of her nipples, occasionally nibbling delicately on the toughened nodes, drawing them into his mouth with a strong suction as she moaned and clung to his head with one hand.
Still kneading and groping and massaging her breasts, he reached down with his right hand and found the luxurious thicket of her pubic hair. His fingers buried themselves in the bountiful abundance of the silken hair as his palm pressed against her vulva, finally rediscovering the sodden grotto between her inner labia. Sucking. hard on her tits, he shoved two fingers into her cunt and began to plunge them into the cavernous depth of her vagina. His thumb found the extended protrusion of her clitoris while his upturned fingers grazed against her G-spot with every thrusting motion as they went back and forth in her privates.
Maitri had reached down and taken his prodigiously engorged shaft in her hand, feverishly pulling and tugging at it. She yanked and heaved with a ferocity that was being driven and matched by Hans’ brisk and forceful insertions into her cunt, but after a few minutes the pressure of his fingertips on the anterior wall of her vagina and the titillation of her clitoris by his thumb was too much for her to bear. Her grip on his cock became lax as she felt a seismic swell of euphoria begin to spread from her inner core like a tsunami, gradually rising and fanning out in ripples across her body.
Hans, on hearing her loud and vociferous groans turning into muffled screams, intensified his stabbing of her snatch, using a third finger inside her cavity. “Hansa! Ahhhh! Hansa!” she gasped, feeling the tidal wave rise as she bent her knees and lowered herself over his probing hand. She released his penis and hung on to him with both her arms around his neck as he continued to devour her breasts and her nipples, sucking the flesh into his mouth. He felt her orgasm approaching as he shoved more of his hand into her orifice, feeling the hard edge of her pubic bone press down on the ball of his palm.
The drizzle had intensified into a light rain and, standing as they were next to the bannister, the shower had drenched them to a considerable extent even though they hadn’t noticed quite yet. Being the monsoon season, heavy dark clouds had gathered and the sound of approaching thunder mingled with the sonorous groans that came from deep within Maitri’s chest. The floor was wet and a little slippery, especially with them both being barefoot. But none of this came in the way of the delirious rapture that Hans and Maitri had transported their minds and bodies to.
And then the tumultuous wave crested with Maitri riding its juddering height; when it crashed over her and her body went into a severe burst of spasmodic jerks with Hans still impaling her, her brain blanked out completely. She screamed in unison with the first crack of lightning which rent the night sky; her knees gave way and she began to slide onto the floor. Her pelvis thrust forward in an involuntary jerk and a jet spray of liquid burst forth from her urethra, drenching Hans’ fist beyond what her juices had already done.
“Aiiii!! Hansaaaaah! Hansa! Hans…,” Maitri wailed, her voice gradually drowning in the sounds of the rain which came down in a sudden deluge. Hans lowered himself to the floor on his haunches as his Matty lost all physical control of her body, her legs sliding outwards and her knees folding inwards. He instinctively snatched his hand away from her pudenda and placed it under her thighs, his other hand going around her lower back. He held her, preventing a hard landing on the cemented ground, and then stood up with her nestled in his strong arms, close against his broad chest. Both her arms were still wrapped around his neck as she clung on to him, turning her face against his sternum. Her huge breasts pressed against him as he held her, spending a few seconds looking at the primitive force of the rain crashing down in front. Then he turned around and carried her into the apartment.
***
Hans carried Maitri to his bedroom and placed her on the bed sitting down, before going to the bathroom where he stripped off his damp singlet and picked up a dry towel. When he got back to the bedroom a few seconds later, the maid had stood up and was looking at him. He dabbed the top of her head and then her face, shoulders, chest and back before rubbing down her arms and legs, all of which were in varying stages of wetness. She stood still while he dried her, facing a full length mirror that was on the wall opposite the foot of his bed.
When Hans finished the rubdown, he hung the towel on the back of a chair and switched on the lamp on his bedside table. The golden hue of the lightbulb filtered through the beige lampshade and bathed Maitri’s dark skin with a coppertone brilliance that looked almost chimerical in Hans’ eyes. She stood sideways, in profile, to him as he admired the complexion. He took in the thick black hair on her head; the bun had loosened but her hair was held in place by a rubber band at the nape of her neck, from where it cascaded in a long loose ponytail that descended to her buttocks. Her elbows were bent backwards as she rested both hands on the curvature of her rump.
From her shoulders, the slope of her chest began gently before the swell of her upper breasts ballooned out till the apex was topped with large dark areolae and the slightly darker nipples. The papillae, though not erect, were still prominent in the centre of each areola. Beneath them, the large and heavy swoop of her boobs hung weightily as the outline curved back upwards just below her armpits. Hans thought to himself that her bust size, measured across the fullest part of her bosom, would surely be at least 42″. Starting from just below her tits was again a gentle swell of her abdomen before it curved in and downwards into the luxuriantly opulent mass of pussy hair. From his oblique position, watching her laterally, the abundance of her pubic hair seemed startlingly profuse; the thick long black curls forming a dense tuft that covered her entire vulva and disappeared between her thighs. He had felt the jungly thickness with his fingers and knew that it continued over her labia, encircling her vaginal entrance, but this was the first time he visually feasted on the thicket.
He continued to be entranced by the sight of Matty, and once again got lost in his thoughts about how natural and primitive this rural woman was; so different from anyone he had experienced before. Her hands still rested on her backside and he admired the rounded shape of her arse. Although he couldn’t see the gluteal fold, the crease where her bum met her thighs, the side view clearly showed the semi-circular contour joining the limb, and the strong quadricep muscles from her hip bone to her knee.
Hans finally walked up to his maid and she turned to face him. Quite unaware, his eight-inch long phallus stood out like a spear from his groin as he approached her and cupped his palms over her hefty pendulous breasts and lifted them in his grip. She looked up at him and reached for his cock, one hand gripping the shaft while the other took his testicles and encircled them with her fingers, playing them like a pair of Chinese baoding balls. He saw the dark tendrils of hair poke out from her armpits and stared at them, eventually releasing her boobs and taking his hands to the hollow below her shoulders. He fingered the silken hair and felt the slight moistness in her underarms as his steely cock nudged the fleshy billowing sag of her tits.
He released one of her breasts from his right hand and and took her left wrist, raising her arm and holding it up above her head so he could look at the axillary hair in her pit. It wasn’t as bushy as her pubic hair but there was still a considerable growth that filled the cavity of her axilla; about an inch-and-a-half long, the density was enough to cover all her skin within the oxter. Hans lowered his head and placed his lips and nose just over the surface of the feathery fluff and breathed in her scent.
It was a tremendous turn-on for both of them; a new erogenous sensation overwhelmed them as the tip of his tongue began to probe the wooly floss. His left hand fondled her breast with increased passion as Maitri tightened her grip on his thick unyielding penis and pulled it against her chest, trying to rub the head on one of her erect nipples. Hans licked and drenched her underarm as his tongue washed over the hair, tasting the unfamiliar pungency that was so intimate and personal to her. He took deep breaths, inhaling the zesty aroma that triggered an almost savage, tameless reaction in his neural network. More than the fragrance or the aroma, it was their effect on his carnal and lustful desire that overpowered him.
Maitri, with her sturdy grip on his cock, pushed down on it like an intractable lever trying to get the smooth red-hot glans against her labia. Hans felt the pressure on his shaft and involuntarily bent his knees so that she could align the tip of his cock to the soused mushy entrance of her cunt. He still kept his left hand wrapped around her wholesome breast, palm and fingers trying to envelope the corpulent mass into his grasp while trying to twitch the extended nipple. His lips and nose remained buried in her armpit as he licked hungrily, lapping at the sweat glands and musky ringlets of hair.
Maitri groaned and made unintelligible sounds as she wallowed in the hedonistic delight of Hans’ tongue in an area she had never been licked before. In fact she had never really been licked anywhere by a man before. But she was equally, if not more, focussed on getting his cock into her cunt, rising on her toes to close the gap that their respective heights demanded even as he bent his knees to lower himself. She held tightly to his rigid penis and flailed the red-tipped head against her clitoris which had protruded from under its hood by considerably more than a centimetre. She was hyper-sensitive to the heated touch of his glans penis on her clit and groaned loudly when her clitoral erection met Hans’ massive cock.
He had to release her breast and her wrist as he placed both his arms around her buttocks to support her as she continued to lash the swollen bundle of nerves that projected at the top of her inner labia with his phallus. Hans meanwhile positioned himself by spreading his feet a little wider and bending his knees further so that she could comfortable rub the most sensitive parts of their genitalia together. His hands formed a cradle under her arse, fingers gripping the pliant succulence of her meaty derriere as he half-lifted her. Maitri kept rubbing his cock head against her clit, transporting her into raptures of libidinous delight as she worked herself up once again towards a frenzied state of abandon.
Hans clawed his right hand to her thigh and lifted up her leg, pulling it up to his hip; she stood tip-toe on one foot while she tried to hook the other around his back. But Hans very adroitly slipped his arm under her thigh and pulled upwards, allowing her to hook her knee over his forearm. His cock slipped out of her grip and slid between her thighs, stiff like a horizontal rod that slid along the gully between her dripping inner pussy lips. He slipped his other hand beneath Maitri’s left thigh and picked that up as well so that she hung suspended with her arms around his neck and both her knees bent over each of his forearms. With her hips widespread, clinging on to him, her huge breasts plastered against his broad chest, she felt his erection run the length of her gash. The tip of his cock protruded from behind her, inches showing from between the base of her buttocks as he rocked her slowly.
Then, like a weightlifter doing a snatch, Hans did a small upward jerk that lifted Maitri about 10 inches and freed his phallus which sprang bolt upright to an almost vertical position. He gradually lowered her over his manhood, finding her hole and smoothly inserting his cock into her vagina. He again felt the tightness of her vaginal vestibule as the swollen head of his penis eased past the opening before letting her slide down the eight-inch length. His hands were now under her rump like a seat; she leaned backwards, stretching her arms out with her hands fastened around the back of his neck.
Despite her well rounded physique, Hans had no difficulty carrying her weight as he began to bob her up and down on his staff, spearing her with an easy grace as his cock skated like a piston in a well-lubricated cylinder. Although she had loosened up enough to allow a comfortable penetration of his thick penis, the grip was still tight like a warm sheath around his pole. With her leaning backwards, Maitri’s voluminous breasts careened and oscillated from side to side and top to bottom, the dark halo of her areolae dancing in front of Hans’ eyes. He bent his head and seized a nipple between his lips, then took it lightly between his front teeth as her boobs continued to sway.
Maitri felt strangely violated as his phallus ripped through the length of her vaginal canal to a depth she thought had never been penetrated. The pace of his thrusting increased, and with each plunge, she gasped and moaned in unison with the rhythm of his jabs. Hans’ palms were firm under her arse but the occasional slapping sounds of her buttocks against his upper limbs added to the erotic symphony that pervaded the bedroom. His testicles swung wildly as he kept moving her perpendicularly along his scalding stake, his jaws clamped over the fleshy cusp of a breast. She had again started mumbling words in her local language; whispers that escaped between her gasps and groans, some vaguely intelligible to Hans but mostly they were just audio-erotica noises in his ears. But like earlier, they had the effect of firing up his libido to a higher level if that was at all possible.
Maitri, for the first time that day, was unable to control any of her actions; she just hung on to Hans and allowed him to pummel her snatch with his meaty shaft like a piledriver boring into her insides. Her upper body leaned backwards as she hung on to his neck; a position she had settled on because the stem of his near-vertical cock not only filled her cunt till her vaginal muscles stretched but also because she could feel the pressure against her clitoris. Her ecstatic rapture put her mind in a state of such delirium, she was totally unaware of any other cogent thought as the heady sensuality of his ramming transported her to heights of pleasure she had never experienced before.
Hans continued lifting her up and down his cock for long minutes but even his athletic durability began to flag since he was not leaning or resting his body against a wall or any other structure. He began to feel the strain on his deltoids and back muscles as well as his sinewy thighs; his arms that effectively carried most of her weight as he pumped her up and down also felt the beginnings of an uncomfortable stress after more than five minutes. Keeping his immensely swollen organ deeply embedded in her, he turned to face the foot of his bed and kneed himself on to it. Moving closer to the centre of the neatly made bunk, he began to gently lower her on to the mattress and starched white linen, ensuring that her head rested comfortably on his down pillows.
As he pushed himself back, Maitri released her grip from around his neck and reached out idly with one hand; her fingertips touched his chest and then trailed down the solid bumps of his six-pack abs till they reached his groin. Her eyes were closed, one hand across her chest making a shelf that held up her heavy breasts; her knees were bent and her thighs spread wide, each rising at a 45-degree angle from her vulva.
Hans leaned back and sat on his heels, mesmerised with the view in front of him. His eyes had long adjusted to the feeble lighting from his bedside lamp and, for the first time, he got a proper look at her pubic region. He had never seen such a wild mass of nether-hair, never even imagined that such a profuse growth was possible. He had felt it earlier, ran his fingers through it, but the sight in front of him was more staggering than he had envisioned. The natural, primitive hirsuteness of this countrywoman was so excessive, he hadn’t even seen this in the crudest pieces of pornography that he occasionally amused himself with.
The inverted triangle of profuse undergrowth was almost seven inches across at the top, and then the verdant jungle tapered down to her cunt. Even there, it grew copiously surrounding the vaginal opening all over the bulbous outer labia, disappearing underneath towards her anus. He reached a hand tremulously, in awe, and touched the surface of the bounteous jungle, feeling the silken curls against his fingers. He briefly tore his eyes away from the vast unshaven expanse and looked above it; the slightly swollen belly with the deeply etched navel, her arm slung across her upper abdomen holding up the huge mammaries with their centred dark halo surrounding the darker nipples, the unruly hair that was more dishevelled than earlier now framing her oval shaped face, the thick eyebrows over her lidded eyes, and the sultry lips that seemed glossed in the lamplight.
His cock throbbed at the mere sight of the smutty rawness as he lowered himself on to the bed, sliding his legs out behind him and placing his face between Maitri’s spread-eagled thighs. His olfactory senses were immediately blitzed by the strong musky scent from her vagina, infused with a certain saccharine sweetness in the fragrance. Hans used the fingers of both his hands to furrow through the bushy verdure as he sought out the entrance to her cunt. He peeled the inner labia apart gently with his thumbs to reveal the dark pink between the lips that surrounded her vaginal opening and her tiny urethra inside. He saw the protruding stub of her clitoris and feasted on the view while his fingers languidly brushed around the flocculent surroundings.
Unable to hold himself back any further, he eventually buried his face in the fluffy triangle of hair and felt the wooly fleece on his forehead, his nose and cheeks, over his lips and on his chin. He breathed in the heady aroma, potent and intoxicating as he inhaled deeply. His hands were at the back of her thighs near her buttocks as he tried to push them further apart and upwards, lifting her feet slightly off the bedsheet. Then he placed his mouth over her pudendum and stuck his tongue out, getting his first taste of the woman’s secretions; bitter-sweet and metallic but maddeningly exhilarating.
“Ahhhhh! Nnnnhh! Ohhhhhh! Hansaaaaah! Ah! Ah!” Maitri groaned and took in a sharp breath of air before exhaling dreamily when Hans first laved her pussy, the flat broad tongue beginning from the bottom near her anus and slowly sweeping up to her clit. He herd her moan, calling out his name like she had done earlier in the day when he was fingering her outside in the balcony. The sound of her throaty wail, sobbing almost, incited him further as he pushed back her thighs and swished his tongue over her genitals in sloppy strokes over her cunt. He saw the puckered entrance of her anus a couple of inches away from him and rimmed it with the tip of his tongue, then shoved a finger inside while he flicked at her cit.
Her massive patch of pussy hair was sodden with his saliva and her secretions as he continued to lap against her most intimate and private parts, sending her into raptures of libidinous delight. Her hips squirmed as she thrust her vulva against his mouth, crying out wildly; she had moved both her hands to the top of Hans’ head and her fingers clawed at the thick curls almost violently while he kept licking her anus, her labia, her vaginal opening, and the protruding clitoris. He reached up with his arms and grabbed her breasts in his hands, squeezing them and moulding them in his palms. Her squeals and groans alternated between a high pitched howl and a low rumbling sound as she clamped her thighs against Hans’ head, holding it in place as her muscles tensed.
Maitri was experiencing the hedonistic delights of cunnilingus perhaps for the first time in her mature life, unable to control her body as her youthful lover sponged her cunt with his tongue. The tingling in her vagina had reached a certain sublimity, a loftiness that she wanted never to end. Her actions were more involuntary than deliberate when she freed her fingers from Hans’ hair and reached behind his neck to the muscular trapezius on his back, digging her nails into his hard sinewy tendons.
Her talons clawed into his skin and Hans felt a sharp pain on his back muscles as she pierced his skin with her wild lacerating grip, but that aroused a fierce animalistic response from him as he pushed a finger into her anus and ate her pussy with a brutality that he could not restrain. He sucked on her clitoris, drawing it between his lips and flaying it with his tongue. His penis, swollen and wedged between his body and the bed, was so engorged it was almost painful as he sucked and chewed on her pussy.
Then, he felt Maitri raise her head a few inches off the pillow and her hands moved from his back into his armpits; he sensed a weak and feeble attempt at pulling him upwards. Hans knew what she wanted, and he craved it more than anything. He pulled his face away from her cunt and slid up between her thighs till his upper body was above her chest. She had one hand over his backside while the other sought out his cock, positioning it directly over her gash, teasing her clit with the blazing tip.
He raised himself up on outstretched arms, his legs on the bed between hers; like a centaur, his body arched over her relatively diminutive form. He looked down at her; at her face and her breasts that flopped in huge globes to either side of her chest as she struggled to grip his humungous erection in her tiny hand. It rose like a flagpole from just above her vulva, the deep fascia along the underside of his shaft pressing against her clitoris. He felt the teasing wisps of her hair against the head of his cock and looked down once again at the startlingly profuse growth on her mons pubis.
Hans raised his hips and rested on outstretched arms, the hands placed on either side of Maitri’s chest as he angled his penis and snagged the red-hot tip in her vaginal opening. A strong deep-throated sound escaped from her parted lips as she raised her hips to receive him. As he pushed his cock into her, the overflow of lubrication eased his entrance but he still felt the constriction of her tight pussy like a cock-ring around his thickness. When he had plunged all eight inches into her, she drew her knees further back and wrapped her feet around his hips, locking her ankles over his rump.
The warmth, the tightness, the softness, the liquid sensation, the feeling of being sheathed in a glove, all sent out such strong signals through his nerves that Hans felt like he was plunging into the comfortable numbness of an unfathomable depth. The rush of excitement and adrenaline as the soft spongy tissue of Maitri’s vagina encompassed his pulsating phallus sent tingles coursing through his body. He pushed himself all the way in and felt the tight band around the base of his manhood; he held himself at that ultimate depth, letting the intensity of the feelings enshroud him completely.
Maitri felt the snugness as she worked her vaginal muscles like a vacuum pump suctioning the entire length and girth of his cock. As he drew himself out and pushed himself back in, developing a steady rhythmic thrusting, the slight element of friction began to generate more heat inside her. The warmth radiated outwards from her core in ripples and waves as Hans continued his long backward and forward motion. Her fingers clutched at the soft down pillows around her head as she tightened the pressure of her locked ankles around his rump. She spread her thighs apart to the extent possible while he filled her completely with his bigness, the pace of his thrusting increasing gradually.
Hans lowered his body and nuzzled the side of Maitri’s neck as he kept pumping into her. His chest was on top of her breasts and though he squashed them, he kept most of his weight off her and on his arms. His thrusts alternated between short swift jabs and long languorous ones, varying his tempo while she moaned next to his ear. He kissed her neck, nibbled at her earlobe, breathed hot air against her skin as he pumped her continuously. Her breathing was loud and rhythmic, keeping time with his bucking lunges as he crushed his massively swollen schlong into the deepest recesses of her vaginal cavity.
At some stage Hans raised his trunk off her and grabbed one of her careening boobs in his hand and wrapped his hard fingers like tentacles around the mound of flesh. He kept kneading the breast as his loins slammed incessantly against her groin, the air rushing out of her lungs every time he impaled her with his penis. Her hands went behind him and gripped his sturdy bum, nails digging into the gluteal muscles pulling him hard against herself.
He had been ramming into her for almost ten minutes before he felt the stirring in his groin; his pace had increased to a phenomenal rate as he leaned over her body and felt her fingernails gouging into his backside. She was like a wild animal, squirming and writhing her hips, almost dislodging his deeply embedded phallus as she screamed like a depraved wench under him. Her eyes were tightly shut and her facial expression was one of immense pain; yet, she was in the throes of an acute ecstatic pleasure, something so decadent that she had never experienced in her self-indulgent heights of masturbation. She had never been fucked in such a prolonged bout of copulation; sex, from what she could recall, had never lasted more than two minutes.
Hans felt the imminent eruption; the roiling cauldron about to explode after what seemed like hours of readiness. All his senses shut down; there was a pitch black darkness in front of his eyes, all sound vanished from around him despite Maitri’s shrieks and wails and moans. There were frizzes of electricity shooting through his body, sparks igniting in his testicles and across various other points of his physique as the dam was about to burst.
When the explosion came, his roar sounded like the furious howl of a tempest storming, like violent ocean waves crashing in a thunderstorm. Despite having ejaculated immense quantities of his semen into her cunt only hours ago, his discharge seemed just as voluminous this time. As his body spasmed involuntarily, thick jets of cum spurted out of his raging penis, filling her hole as he held himself in place; their genitals were fused as one, her yoni and his linga coalesced into a single melded entity.
When Hans finally collapsed over Maitri’s body, her knees were bent sharply and her legs were high in the air. She basked in the warmth that still spread out across her body, enjoying his weight on her breasts and stomach as his breathing gradually slowed down next to her face. She slowly lowered her limbs on to the bed, stretching them out but keeping them parted as Hans remained still, his cock firmly entrenched in her vagina as it began to lose its tumescence. She kept her hands on his buttocks, fingers idly stroking his skin.
Many minutes later, Hans finally rolled off her and lay on his side, facing Maitri. He threw one arm over her while his face nestled against her left breast. She felt the trickle of his cum escaping from her cunt as she clenched her pelvic floor muscles and imagined the creampie dripping out of her. It felt cool and ticklish as the thick fluid slipped out of her and found its way past her anus and on to the bedsheet. She finally turned to her side and faced Hans’ reposing form, pressing her huge boobs against him as she shut her eyes and rested.
***
That was last Friday; in fact, it was the early hours of Saturday. The intervening week had seen a very hectic schedule for Hans since he had to catch a flight and go to his regional headquarters like he did every quarter. Maitri and him had not been able to spend the entire weekend together because he had left the house in the late morning.
Now, a week later, he was sitting on his balcony waiting for his maid.
***