To my beautiful, sexy wife xxx
Deepika: My Muse
The first erotic photograph from my wife, sent to my phone when I was away from home presenting at a prestigious academic conference in Birmingham, arrived just over a year ago; almost a year after we were married and moved in together. She said she knew I was anxious about my presentation and had decided to send me a racy photograph of her lying in bed naked to give me something to take my mind off work. It was an innocuous enough photograph; a simple selfie with her face obscured and only her midriff and the hint of her breasts on display – her collection of cuddly toys were strategically positioned to preserve her modesty – but the appreciative text I sent in response told her how much it turned me on and it must have given her the idea to take things further.
It wasn’t the photograph itself that made my cock hard – it was the fact that it was my wife, Deepika, that had sent it. Throughout our whirlwind courtship and early marriage, Deepika had never shown any exhibitionist tendencies. On the contrary: she had always appeared to be quite straight-laced when it came to the bedroom. She covered herself up every time she came out the shower and rarely changed in front of me or slept naked. It was as if she was embarrassed or ashamed of her body and took every opportunity to cover herself up.
I could never understand why she was so uptight about stripping off in front of me or why she often turned the lights out when we had sex – Deepika had an amazing body for a woman in her late thirties. Perhaps it was the fact that she had lived with her mother, nursing her for many years until she died to the exclusion of any serious relationships, that had made her uptight around men. But it made no sense to me: her tiny, stocky stature and firm, small breasts had always turned me on and I frequently told her so.
Even when she was dressed I would admire the curve of her bottom and thick, round calf muscles, and the way her long, dark, Indian hair beautifully framed her heart-shaped face. She may not have been a classic beauty but she was sexy as fuck and, despite her reluctance to be seen naked, we had a satisfactory, if slightly vanilla, sex life at the start of our marriage.
**********
Summers as an academic are often considered ‘conference season’ due to the number of events timed for when the delegates’ teaching commitments are minimal, and last year I had a summer on the conference circuit ahead of me. As a newly-married lecturer with a strong sex drive I found the time away from my wife difficult, but my job and ongoing PhD research demanded my presence at several conventions that year. And so it was that two weeks later I travelled to another conference, this time in Newcastle.
I was staying in a basic university hall of residence in Newcastle city centre and, having been to a local bar with some colleagues from other universities, I was tired, a bit drunk and wanking over some porn when my phone pinged. It was another photograph from Deepika. This time it showed her completely naked from the neck down; her firm breasts and large, dark nipples clearly visible above her thick, black bush of pubic hair. Accompanying the photograph was a short message, “To James. Wish you were here. X”
Again, the message made my cock twitch and harden. The photograph of my sexy, naked wife was one thing, but the thought that she was in bed thinking of being fucked by me turned me on no end. I decided to give her a call.
“Hello Sexy,” she said when she picked up. “Do you like my little present?”
“Like it? I love it!” I replied. “You’re a naughty girl getting my cock hard when you’re not here to do anything about it.”
“Mmmm… well perhaps you’ll have to do something about it yourself tonight – just as I’m doing now with my rabbit. I hope my picture helps. But when you come back tomorrow I’ll be waiting for you in bed.”
I had never known Deepika to be so forward and uninhibited. When she initiated sex – as she often did – it would usually be a gentle rub of my cock as we were kissing in bed, or waking me by gently wanking my morning wood. It was always spontaneous and silent and, once I knew she was in the mood, she would usually allow me to take over and be the dominant partner. She had never “scheduled” sex before and the disclosure that she owned a vibrator was a revelation to me. That my wife was becoming more bold and assertive in demonstrating her sexuality was both pleasing and exciting and I hoped that it was my constant reassurance and admiration of her fine physical assets that was behind this new-found self-confidence.
The sex the following evening was like nothing I had experienced before with Deepika. It was after nine o’clock when my flight landed at City Airport and by the time I had retrieved my bag and completed the short onward journey home, it was almost ten when I reached our apartment. The lights were all switched off apart from a lamp in the bedroom, the light from which enabled me to make my way to the half-open bedroom door without switching on the hallway light. The sound of relaxing music met my ears as I reached the door and gently pushed it open.
Deepika was lying seductively on top of the duvet dressed in the sexiest, sluttiest underwear I had ever seen her wear. She had never previously appeared to care too much about what she wore underneath her clothes, often settling for the first mismatched cotton panties and bra that came out of her drawer. To my knowledge, the only lingerie she owned was the red silk and lace set she had bought to wear under her wedding sari and had not worn since. But now she was dressed in a black corset much too racy to have come from Marks and Spencer. It had hints of lace, daring cut-outs, and the unlined cups and separate panties were semi-sheer, offering just a peek of her nipples and bush. Matching black silk stockings and suspenders completed the transformation. She looked stunning!
“Welcome home, Handsome,” she said coquettishly. “I have another present for you, but this one you’ll need to unwrap.”
As my initial surprise that my reticent wife was being so forward began to subside, I knelt on the bed, kissed her and stood to undress but, once I was naked, she prevented me from lying beside her on the bed, shuffling to the edge and blocking my way.
“Do you like the wrapping?” Deepika asked, running a finger over her silky breast. “Do you like that I’ve dressed up for you?”
“God… yes! I love it, but…” I stammered.
“Then why don’t you take some photos? Take some pictures of me to keep for when you’re away next time.” She picked up her phone from the bedside cabinet, unlocked it and passed it to me. “Just tell me how you want me – I’ll do anything you ask. Let me be your muse.”
This was an offer too good to refuse but, as I started taking a series of sexy shots of Deepika in a range of poses, it became clear that she needed little direction from me. My cock was rock hard as she played for the camera, sometimes touching herself as she spread her legs wide, other times pulling down her bra or panties to reveal the delights beneath. Every new pose was captured multiple times and within five minutes I must have taken well over a hundred photographs of my wife behaving like a complete slut.
Seeing that my cock was now dripping copious amounts of pre-cum, Deepika took things further. Taking my hand, she pulled me onto the bed with her and told me to lie down.
“Take some photos of me sucking your cock. When you’re away next week I want you to remember this blow-job as you’re wanking off over my photos.” She bent over and took my length deep into her throat.
As her head bobbed up and down on my throbbing cock I held back her hair, taking dozens of photographs of my wife’s beautiful face as she pleasured my cock and balls with her mouth and hands. Sometimes she would look directly at the camera as she wantonly licked my swollen glans or sucked my balls into her mouth. Other times she ignored the camera, focusing on my pleasure as she effortlessly brought me to the edge time and time again. Eventually, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I’m going to cum,” I said, thinking she would take her head away and finish me off by hand, watching as the cum spurted from my tip and onto her fingers as it had done so many times before. But Deepika just continued sucking my cock even more vigorously. “Dee, I’m going to cum in your mouth!”
I lined up the camera just in time. As my orgasm came and my tip started squirting ropes of hot, white cum into my wife’s willing mouth, I took shot after shot of her emptying my balls. If the feeling of my semen splashing her tonsils concerned her she did well to disguise it, continuing to slowly bob up and down on my pulsing tool long after the last drops had been sucked from my scrotum.
Eventually, with my cock beginning to get flaccid, she slowly and carefully drew her mouth away and lay on her front, facing me. As she opened her mouth for the camera two small trickles of sperm dripped from the corners of her mouth, but a thick, milky pool of jism remained on her tongue. After a short pause and half a dozen more photographs, she swallowed every drop, even opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue as proof that she had drunk the lot.
After giving my cock a few moments to recover, Deepika knelt astride me as I sat on the bed. Pulling her small breasts from the cups of her corset she leaned forward, gripping the headboard as she pushed her breasts into my face.
“Suck them, Darling. Suck my little titties.”
She ground her pussy on my stiffening cock as I took each nipple into my mouth in turn, sucking and gently nibbling them as I pressed my face firmly into her chest. Deepika moaned in satisfaction and I moved my hands behind her, unfastening her corset to give me better access to her beautiful, firm body. As I pulled the skimpy garment away, Deepika leaned backwards until she was flat on her back between my open legs. With her legs together, toes pointing to the ceiling, she wriggled her panties over her bottom and drew them upwards over her feet. Reaching for her phone again, I just managed to capture the moment when she opened her legs to show me how wet she was.
Her pussy was clearly aching to be fucked. The long, dark hairs around her opening were matted with her juices, and her pink outer lips and clitoris were fully engorged. As she used two fingers to play with herself, I could see thin strings of her wetness cloying between her open fingers, and her thick, dark nipples, which she teased with her other hand, were rock-hard after their sucking.
“Click… click… click.”
The noise of the electronic shutter appeared to spur Deepika on to greater lewdness. Reaching under the bed, she retrieved her rabbit and resumed her previous position. Watching the vibrator disappear inside my wife’s pussy as the small rabbit ears teased her clit was too much for me to bear. After a few last photographs I put down the phone and knelt between her legs.
Deepika was happy to allow me to take control of the rabbit and I continued to fuck her with it as she stretched her arms above her head in a sign of her submission to my touches. But I needed more. Twisting the rabbit, I moved the vibrating ears from her clitoris to her anus, holding the toy steady to allow her to fully enjoy the new sensation of her puckered hole being stimulated. Then, kneeling between her legs, my tongue took over the stimulation of her needy button.
I had never seen her writhe and buck with such intensity as, gripping the headboard with both hands, she moaned and panted her way through multiple orgasms. Even the hairs around her anus were wet, and a small damp patch was forming on the sheet as the collective efforts of my tongue and the rabbit brought her off time and time again. It was only when she brought her hands down between her legs that I knew she was spent: over-stimulated and in need of a break.
As Deepika lay recovering, I took some pictures of her gaping pussy and the stains beneath. My cock, by now completely stiff and ready for action, was creating a mess of its own as my pre-cum formed a silvery trail on the sheet with every slight movement and I just wanted to be inside my wife again, unloading my potent cargo into the deepest reaches of her pussy.
As I knelt between her legs and prepared to push myself inside her supine body, she put her hand on my chest to stop me.
“No, not like that, James. Lie on your back.”
I did as I was told and lay back as Deepika knelt up on the bed. Once I was in the centre of the bed, she straddled me in the Reverse Cowgirl position and, gripping my wood with one hand, lowered herself onto it.
Deepika was so wet she took my cock easily, grinding her pussy downwards to ensure she took my entire length. After a few exploratory movements of her hips, she had me inside her at the right depth and angle for her pleasure and, leaning forward, began to bounce herself up and down on my cock.
I could immediately tell why Deepika had chosen this position. Reverse Cowgirl allowed me an astounding view not only of her round, brown bottom and dark anus, but also of my cock as it cleaved the inner folds of her salmon-pink labia. Again I reached for the camera, taking close-up after close-up of my wife as she twerked and gyrated on my rod, occasionally kneeling upright and allowing her luxurious dark hair to cascade over her shoulders and down her back as she ground herself on my throbbing cock and balls.
With the phone battery about to die and my need to cum becoming desperate, I put down the phone for a moment to focus on our mutual pleasure. I could tell that, with my tip stroking her cervix and her fingers aggressively rubbing her clit, Deepika was as close to orgasm as I was and with a final flourish, I thrust myself upwards to meet her pussy as the contents of my balls were released inside her at last. Surrendering to her own climax, Deepika flopped forward, panting and moaning, onto all fours, affording me an incredible view of my twitching cock as it inseminated her, and the thick stream of our shared cum that slowly escaped her pussy and dripped down my shaft.
Grabbing the phone, I captured every moment as Deepika slowly raised her hips, released my cock, crouched over me, and queefed a hot, thick stream of cum onto my cock.
Then the phone screen went black.
**********
Over the next few days, it was as if nothing had happened. Deepika reverted to her old self – shy, self-conscious and seemingly embarrassed to be naked. There was no sign of the hundreds of photos I had taken on her phone and had assumed would be sent to me afterwards. I put it down to her maybe drinking one too many G and Ts before my arrival home and that she was now regretting her slutty behaviour, but for me a Pandora’s box had been opened and I wanted more.
The following week the academic circus moved to Cardiff. Many of the same faces, even some of the same speakers were there. Another day, another modern university, it seemed. As usual when at a conference, I spent the first evening in one of the many pubs with some fellow delegates, all of us eating on expenses and drinking a bit too much. I left and returned to my hotel earlier than I usually would have in the hope that, as with my last two conferences, there would be a ‘present’ from Deepika later. I had called her earlier in the evening but there was no suggestion that any pictures or anything else would be forthcoming but not had there been on the previous occasions, so I wasn’t too discouraged.
It was half past ten when my phone pinged. There were two hyperlinks in Deepika’s text but no explanation as to what they were. I clicked on the first one. The link took me to a file in Deepika’s Dropbox. In it were a selection of around seventy of the photographs I had taken while we were fucking the previous week. Each one had been beautifully cropped, subtly Photoshopped where necessary, and all were in stunning black and white. I slowly scrolled through them. They were an almost perfect document of our amazing sex that night and surprisingly, she had left her face in many of the pictures.
My phone pinged again. “That’s what I want you to do with me when you come home,” the text message read.
Confused, I clicked on the second link and it took me to a video on a well-known porn website. I started the video, turning the sound on my phone down slightly in case the hotel had thin walls. The video was one I recognised of an Indian woman being fucked doggy style by a muscular white porn star. She was moaning uncontrollably as his huge cock pounded her shaven pussy. She was wearing a sari but her skirt was bunched around her waist and her breasts spilled from the front of her blouse, gently swinging with each of the man’s thrusts.
The video moved to a close-up of the guy pulling his cock out of her pussy, covering it in lube, then gently easing it into her bumhole. My cock was straining at the fabric of my trousers. Did my wife really want me to fuck her arsehole? There had never been any suggestion before that she was into anal sex; any time my fingers or tongue had gone near her bud she had made her reluctance quite clear.
The porn star continued fucking the Indian woman until, with a grunt, he pulled out roughly and sprayed his cum over her skirt and naked bottom. The video ended just as my phone pinged.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. I want you to do exactly what he does to her in the video.”
**********
The next two days in Cardiff were torture! At one point I considered forgetting the conference and returning home early but the keynote speaker on the final day was a very big name who I had been looking forward to hearing and besides, Deepika might not be happy if her plans were brought forward. I decided to sit tight – at least I had the photographs for now.
Deepika must have known what she was doing. Sending the pictures and invitation for anal sex on my first night away made me desperate for her and over the next two days I became worse than a teenage boy; masturbating at every opportunity over one or other of the photographs while imagining I was balls-deep in my wife’s arse. Once I even went into a toilet cubicle in a break between sessions to relieve my pent-up need for her, stroking myself off over a photo of my wife on all fours with my cock deep inside her pussy.
When Friday came, I left immediately after the keynote session, not able to get home quickly enough. Fortunately, the conference was wound up at lunchtime and I knew that if I made the next train, I could be back by four o’clock. Once on the train I texted Deepika, letting her know when I would be home.
“Okay Darling. See you soon. Safe journey. X” If she still planned to go through with her own anal induction she wasn’t giving much away.
Every mile of the journey was torture and by the time the train reached Paddington Station, I had to discreetly check the front of my trousers for signs of the pre-cum I knew was leaking into my boxer shorts. I raced to the tube station and jumped on board, cursing every one of the stations on the seemingly interminable journey home. It was quarter past four when I eventually reached the flat.
As I put the key in the lock I imagined that Deepika would be waiting in the bedroom as before so, as I opened the door and put down my bags, I was surprised to see Deepika standing in the hallway. She looked stunning, wearing exactly the same red sari and Indian gold jewellery she had worn on our wedding day. She must have gone to some trouble and considerable expense because her hair was tied up with added hair-pieces, and her make-up was flawless and also clearly professionally applied, just as it had been when we were married. She even wore the same gold chain daintily linking her nath to her earlobe. For a moment I panicked, thinking I might have forgotten our first wedding anniversary but I was relieved to remember that it was still two weeks away, the day I returned from my final conference of the season.
“Welcome home, Darling,” Deepika whispered seductively. Walking slowly forward, she cupped my head in her hands and kissed my forehead gently, looking up coyly afterwards as if awaiting instructions.
“What is my husband’s wish on his return after so long away?”
Deepika knew exactly what my wish was and how desperate I was for it to come true.
“Is my darling excited to see his loving wife?”
Two days of desperation seemed to overwhelm me in that moment. I held her firmly and kissed her more passionately than ever before, caring little about the crimson lipstick I knew would be covering my face. As my mouth broke away, moving down to her exposed neck and shoulders, she let out a short gasp.
“Oh, I think I know what my husband wants. Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, and don’t forget your phone.” Deepika turned and led me by the hand to the bedroom.
I was staggered when I reached the bedroom door. Every recording device she owned had been set up around the bed to record her first experience of anal sex. The digital SLR, with its high quality microphone, was on a tripod on the bedside cabinet, its touchscreen reversed so she could see what was in frame. On the other side of the bed her phone – also already filming – was propped up on a selfie stick. At the end of the bed her iPad was set up on the chest of drawers filming from another angle and as she slightly pulled back her ghunghat, I realised that she was even discreetly wearing the GoPro from our car mounted on a headband.
“I know you must be surprised, my Darling,” she said as she clocked my disbelief. “But I just want to give you the best first-anniversary present ever. I know how you love looking at porn when I’m not around – sometimes you’ve been very careless in not clearing the internet history. I’ve seen the kind of porn you like and I’ve been busy trying to make sure you never need to look at another woman in that way again. Thinking of you alone when you were away, wanking over other women, made me jealous and horny so I decided to give you some presents. I think you like the ones I’ve given you already but, on our first anniversary, I want to give you a present you’ll never forget.”
Feeling both excited and a little foolish, I suddenly realised what had brought about the change in Deepika’s behaviour. It was true that I had been careless with the internet history at times, thinking Deepika didn’t have the IT skills or inclination to look at it. It was also true that I liked images or films of anal sex, cum in mouth and lingerie. She had clearly done her research! And the thought that my quiet, demure wife wanted to become my own, personal porn-star was an anniversary present from heaven.
“I want you to fuck me like the guy in the video. I want to be the woman you’re thinking of when you wank off from now on.”
“You’re always the woman I think of when I wank,” I told her. “Most of the porn I watch features Indian women. You must have noticed that. It’s no coincidence.”
Deepika slowly walked behind me, kissing my neck as she removed my phone from the inside pocket of my creased linen suit jacket and handed it to me before removing the jacket itself.
“Well this Indian woman is real, beside you, and she wants your cock in all her holes. I hope you still have some energy after your journey.” With that, Deepika moved in front of me and knelt down, unzipping the flies of my trousers. She nodded towards the phone in my hand. “Video mode today, and remember to send me the clips afterwards.”
My cock was already so hard at the prospect of what was to come that Deepika must have known she would find it difficult to get it out of my flies so, unfastening my belt and undoing my trouser button, she allowed my trousers to fall to the floor as I hastily removed my shirt before starting to film her. My boxer shorts betrayed my excitement: a small damp patch was clearly visible on the green fabric and as she pulled them to the floor, a string of pre-cum hung limply to the tip of my straightened rod.
Deepika gently moved me around so the iPad could clearly capture the moment she moved her tongue slowly up the length of my shaft, licking up all my silvery juices before squeezing another drop from my reddened tip and swallowing it. In one movement she enveloped my entire cock in her mouth then slowly released it until only my thick, bulbous head remained in her mouth. It was all I could do not to thrust myself back inside her and fuck her throat until she gagged, but I held back, allowing her lips and tongue to work their magic on my cock. Thick, red lines of lipstick now covered my length but Deepika didn’t appear to worry about that, instead, gripping the top of my ballsack loosely between her thumb and forefinger, she took each nut in turn into her mouth, sometimes looking up directly at the camera I was holding by my chest.
“Mmm… I’m looking forward to having this big fat cock in my arse,” she said to my camera in her best coquettish Indian accent. “I want you to fuck my hole and fill it with your spunk.”
‘Oh my God, she’s seen that I’ve watched the dirty talk videos too,’ I thought, as Deepika turned her attention once more to my leaking pole.
The iPad must have captured every moment of the amazing blow-job I was receiving. From time to time she would stop her greedy sucking to punctuate the action with some dialogue.
“I can feel how full your big, heavy balls are,” Deepika began again, looking directly at my phone. “Full of your rich, white cum – all for me. I’m going to drain every drop of cum from these big, white balls then squirt it out of my arsehole. Will you enjoy that, huh?”
To hear my wife utter such filth just made me leak even more pre-cum for her tongue to clean up, and the Indian accent she was faking just made it even more arousing.
Deepika started unbuttoning the blouse of her sari. She wasn’t wearing a bra and as the blouse began to separate, her two tawny mounds and thick, dark nipples began to be revealed beneath the heavy, gold-embroidered fabric. She left the bottom button fastened to stop the front of the blouse from coming apart completely but, as she pulled the fabric aside, her small breasts bounced gently in front of me. Again she looked at my phone camera lens.
“Ah, you like my titties, huh? You like my little brown titties? I like it when you suck them and make my nipples stiff. Will you do that for me now? Will you?”
Deepika rose from her knees and lay on the bed in front of the SLR, checking she was in shot on the screen as I quickly removed my socks, remembering how absurd they make men look in porn films.
“Come to me, My Darling,” she said enticingly, patting the bed sheet beside her. “Come and suck on my lovely, milky titties.”
As I started gently sucking and nibbling at Deepika’s breasts, she moaned softly while pushing up her breasts to meet my mouth.
“Oh, yes! I love it when you are rough with them,” she whimpered as she moved one hand between my legs, lightly cupping my balls between her fingers as she softly scratched the tight skin of my perineum with her long fingernails. “Can you feel how hard my nipples are getting?”
It was true: her nipples were rock hard as I continued to nibble and lick them.
“Now feel how wet my pussy is,” Deepika said as she hitched the skirt of her dress around her waist. Not only had she dispensed with wearing the petticoat she had worn on our wedding day, she also seemed to have neglected to wear any panties, but the biggest surprise was that her pussy had been completely waxed. It was the first time I had seen her without the familiar dark curls that usually extended from her navel to her anus.
“You like it?” she asked as I moved my hand over her mound. “Yes, I wanted to be clean and smooth for my husband’s return: for when I welcome his big, thick cock inside my pussy again. Do you approve?”
“I love it!” I said. Although I would miss the musky smell of her bush as I went down on her, it was exciting to see that the new, slutty Deepika had a different look down below.
“Do you want to fuck my pussy, huh? Is that what you want, my husband? To fill your wife’s pussy with your cock and fuck her like a dog?”
As Deepika went onto all fours and pulled the skirt of her sari further onto her back, the scene became suddenly familiar. This was the point at which the video she had sent had begun: the Indian wife about to be fucked by the guy. I knew what I had to do and knelt behind her. Grabbing my cock firmly in one hand, I drove it inside her soft, wet folds.
Deepika mimicked the painful whimpers of women in Indian porn films: the moans of a wife submitting reluctantly to her husband as he claims his marital rights. I watched on the SLR screen as she looked at the camera, as if appealing to it for help as I pounded her ferociously in the background.
“Oh no! Your cock is too big!” She whimpered, a look of pain and distress on her face. “My pussy is too small to take it. Please stop!”
The scenario, particularly after two days of desperate waiting for Deepika, was in danger of making me cum too quickly and as I continued to film my cock thrusting into Deepika’s pussy, I had the difficult task of turning my thoughts to other things to allow the burning need for an orgasm to pass. I tried to zone out, thinking of something – anything – else, but the sound of our bodies slapping together and her delightful warm wetness on my cock was bringing me to the edge. I pulled out, resting my cock on her anus and the pre-orgasmic sensations began to ebb.
“Oh God, no!” Deepika cried, remaining firmly in character. “No, not my bottom, please!” Even as she said the words she was sliding a tube of lubricant across the bed, out of camera shot.
I put down my phone, took the lube and clicked open the lid. Squeezing the clear gel onto my fingers, I rubbed it liberally over my cock before using one finger to prepare Deepika’s arsehole for the fucking it was about to receive. My finger glided in easily – she must have been practising with her rabbit before my arrival. After wiping my hand on the sheets, I picked up my phone again and started filming again as I brought her hips level with mine and lined up my cock at her hole.
As my tip slowly broke through her tight, reluctant sphincter, I knew that Deepika’s gasps and moans were no longer fake. This was the first time she had taken a real cock in her arsehole and no matter how much she had practised with her toys it was bound to be uncomfortable. I slowly and gently eased myself deeper, enjoying a feeling I had not experienced in years as my camera caught every moment of my wife’s defilement.
Pausing for a moment to allow Deepika time to adjust to my cock, I looked at the SLR screen. Deepika was lying quietly, her face on the bed, eyes shut and mouth open. Her expression was not one of pain but almost one of wonderment as she experienced her husband in a way she had never done before. I pushed myself further inside, watching her eyes open wide as she felt my cock’s steady progress into the depths of her rectum. Only when I felt my balls press on her inner thighs did I pause again, allowing her to savour the feeling of eight inches of cock in her bumhole.
My first thrusts were very shallow as her arsehole gripped my cock like a vice but after a few moments I felt her relax and my cock began to slide more easily inside her. I began to lengthen each stroke and before long I was slowly withdrawing to the tip before easing myself back inside her again.
Deepika began the fake Indian moans again and I knew she must be getting more comfortable. Occasionally she would clam up, gasping as her bum involuntarily gripped my cock hard for a few seconds but within minutes her hole was completely relaxed and taking a hard, fast pounding. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I could hold back no longer.
“Oh God..! No..! Stop! I can’t take any more…! Deepika was really hamming it up for the camera now. If she managed to effectively splice the clips from my camera together with the ones from the other devices, she would have an amazing video to present me with for our anniversary.
Eventually I couldn’t hold back any longer. Remembering the porn video Deepika had sent, I knew she wanted me to pull out at the last minute so, as I felt my balls tighten and the cum making its way to my tip I roughly pulled out, leaving Deepika’s arsehole wide open and gaping like the entrance to a small cave. My cock became over-sensitive and my orgasm began. Pointing my cock at her open hole, I blasted a first thick load inside her. Taking aim again, I squirted two more ropes over her bum cheeks and onto her wedding dress. As my reserves of cum – depleted by days of wanking – began to run dry, I pushed myself back inside her as the remnants of my load ebbed from the tip of my cock and into her arsehole. After wanking out the final drops, I pulled out.
Deepika pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and turned to show the camera the sorry mess I had made of both her arsehole and her wedding dress. I couldn’t see much detail on the camera screen but I could see her bum winking as she pushed out a steady trickle of my cum. Between her open legs a small reservoir of semen was forming on the sheets.
I couldn’t wait to see the video!
**********
Ten days later I was attending my final three-day conference of the season in Bournemouth. Each evening I would phone Deepika and send her my love but, despite endlessly checking my phone, nothing sexy came through in all the time I was away – no video, no photos. Nothing.
The final day of the conference was also the day of our wedding anniversary and I was intrigued to see what Deepika had done with the video clips. What would the final movie look like? Would she send it to me to wank over before I left my hotel?
But it was with a heavy heart that I packed my bags and headed to the station. No video had been forthcoming and, although the photographs of my wife being fucked had helped, I was desperately missing her. Perhaps Deepika had scrapped the whole video idea? Maybe the footage hadn’t been good enough, or the editing software too difficult to use? Could I expect a more conventional anniversary present on my return? Or maybe I would get the video tomorrow – we had decided to postpone our anniversary celebrations to Saturday on account of me being away.
I reached home just after ten o’clock and heard Deepika shout from the kitchen.
“Hey Darling, welcome home. Happy anniversary!”
“Happy anniversary, Gorgeous. Where are you?” I wanted anniversary hugs and kisses.
There was the soft pad of feet on the laminate then she appeared, naked but for her lacy, red wedding lingerie, carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses on a tray.
“Follow me, Handsome.”
I took off my coat and followed her to the bedroom. The room was illuminated by what must have been fifty tea lights, and a diffuser was silently scenting the room with lavender. The only other light came from the television screen which had been paused. Flickering on the screen we’re the words, “James and Deepika’s First Wedding Anniversary.”
Deepika put down the tray and after kissing and hugging each other excitedly, she led me to the bed.
“Happy anniversary, Darling,” she said. “I know we said we’d celebrate properly tomorrow, but do you want your present now?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Well get undressed and I’ll pour you a glass of champagne. I think you’ll like it.”
I undressed and quickly showered as Deepika poured the wine, placed two glasses either side of the bed and undressed. When I returned from the en-suite, Deepika was lying naked on the bed, phone in hand. I sat on the bed, assuming we would cuddle up and watch the video together but I had underestimated my wife again. Instead, she crawled between my open legs.
“Watch the video, not me. Do you promise? Now, enjoy,” she said. As she tapped her phone the video started.
As soon as the video began, Deepika had my cock in her mouth. I wanted to watch her suck me, to reciprocate her touches and to pleasure her in return but if I took my eyes off the screen for even a moment she would shoot me a dirty look and indicate with a sideways nod of her head that I should be watching the television, not her. I relaxed and allowed her to pleasure me, keeping my gaze firmly on the video.
By the time she had sucked me hard, I was transfixed. The many clips had been edited and spliced perfectly and even the sound quality was amazing. I felt my cock twitch in her mouth as the on-screen Deepika moaned and panted under my cock’s onslaught. My balls tightened as I watched for the first time her face contort as my cock entered her arsehole for the first time but, as I watched again how I sprayed her arsehole with cum, I realised I couldn’t hold back any longer.
My orgasm came quickly and almost without warning. I didn’t have a chance to prepare Deepika for the fountain of sperm she was about to receive and, as I unloaded several strong blasts of cum into her mouth, I could see she was taken aback at how quickly and heavily I had cum. But as the flow of thick, white drops ebbed away she regained her composure, continuing to tease the final few drops from my tip as I watched her on-screen alter-ego empty her bottom onto the sheets.
As my cock grew soft and Deepika moved her head away I could see she had already swallowed my load. She kneeled up, straddled me, and gave me a deep cum-flavoured kiss.
Behind her the screen simply read, “Happy Anniversary, James.”
**********