Ashok rings the doorbell and waits. Before the chimes fade, the door opens and he steps through. It clicks shut quickly behind him and he smiles at his hostess. Her name is Hema and she is an attractive woman in her late twenties with a ravenous sexual appetite. Hema's husband is a prosperous businessman. He has a factory in a small industrial zone some distance from Chernnai. He travels a great deal on work.
The direct result of this is that the sex in Hema's marriage is infrequent, though excellent when she has it. Jayesh, her husband, is a powerful and demanding lover with considerable skill and stamina. He fucks her superbly and she loves it, for she has always loved sex since she was sixteen and first hungry for the experience. She knows, too, that Jayesh has several mistresses, and is regularly unfaithful to her, though they do not speak of it. Hema sees no reason to deprive herself, given the circumstances. Fortunately, they have no children, and she has the liberty to indulge herself, which she does, taking lovers as she pleases.
She has a small, independent consultancy and she meets several people during her work and has no trouble in finding lovers. Her favourites, though, are still the servants. She loves their hard bodies and demanding manner, the easy dispensation with social niceties and small chat.
She is fair-skinned and attractive with a round, smiling face. She has long, dark hair that she invariably wears in a tidy bun on the back of her head. Her eyes are deep brown and full of sparkle. She wears a red *bindi* in the middle of her broad forehead. Her lips are soft and full, her nose straight, if a trifle broad, but sweet on her all the same. She wears no makeup and looks clean and soft and desirable.
Her body has grown fleshy and ripe with time. Her breasts are heavy and full. She wears *sari*s with tight blouse and her breasts strain at the confines of the cloth, jutting out over the lower hem that runs hard under them. Her cleavage is deep and exciting. She wears a long black bead *mangalsutra* around her neck, nestling between her breasts. Her belly is rounded, yet firm and her hips flare to splendid buttocks. Her limbs are smooth and rounded, with shapely hands and feet.
Ashok notices that she is still in her formal attire, a white blouse with buttons down the front and a mandarin collar, and a light black and white printed cotton *sari*. Her feet are bare. He follows her as she walks through the short entrance foyer to the living room.
"Working late?" he asks.
"Mm. I had an important meeting."
She sees no reason to mention that the meeting was with her peon and it was entirely sexual, on the floor of her small office with the door securely locked. Her practice is small and, frequently, when the evenings stretch out endlessly with little work to do, she spends time having sex with her one or more of her peons, often having them fuck her together.
Ashok strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. Hema steps into her hall and turns as he comes up to her. Without another word, she lifts her face to his, her hands sliding up his deep, hard chest, caressing him sensuously. Of all her servant-lovers, Ashok is one of the best. He smiles and kisses slowly and deeply, his hands sliding up her soft, fleshy body, sliding under her *pallu*, cupping her breasts. The soft mounds fill his hands and he marvels at their size and weight and form, the hardness of her nipples. She wears no underclothes as a matter of habit. Slowly, he draws the *pallu* of her shoulder and unravels the *sari*. It slides to her feet, leaving her standing before him in her blouse and petticoat.
Hema presses to him as they kiss like lovers, her tongue flickering in his mouth. Her fingers crawl across his chest, and she scrapes her nails over his small, hard nipples. As he squeezes her breasts, her hands glide down his body, over his belly and she unclasps and unzips his trousers smoothly, sliding her hand into his crotch.
Ashok quickens with pleasure as her fingers close delicately around his thick, long penis. His trousers puddle to his feet. The top three buttons of her blouse are open, revealing her deep cleavage and he flicks open two more and pulls her long *mangalsutra* out of her blouse. Hema likes wearing it, to show that she is married. She knows that a visual reminder that she is married to another man excites many of her lovers. Ashok is no exception.
Her breasts swell and grow hot and hard in his hands. The kiss breaks and Hema arches her head, her face suffused with lust. Ashok nuzzles the nape of her neck and she runs her tongue through his ear. He pinches her stiff nipples through the fine cloth of her blouse. Bending his head, he drags his tongue into her cleavage and then, squeezing one breast, sucks it through the blouse. Hema whimpers softly, arching her back, feeding her breast to his mouth.
"Yes," she groans. "God yes!"
It feels wonderful, his warm mouth clamped on her breast-tip, his tongue flipping at her erect nipple through the blouse. His hands squeeze her buttocks now and he pulls up her petticoat and pushes his hands under it, sliding them up over her naked thighs and buttocks, squeezing them, parting them, pressing a fingertip to her anus. Hema groans and writhes against him.
Meanwhile, her hands are busy working his cock, stroking and jerking it deftly. It swells and hardens in her fingers and she flips the foreskin back over his bulging cock-head. With a shuddering moan, she sinks to her knees before him and quickly takes his erect cock in her mouth. Ashok gasps sharply, his belly snapping inward in shock and delight, his head arching back. Her mouth is soft and warm and wet and he can feel her tongue swirling over his thick cock-head, her teeth scraping delicately over his cock-shaft.
"Ohhh yes ... come on ... suck it ... suck my prick!" he gasps. "Suck it hard!"
Hema loves sucking cock. The tangy, musky taste and odour of a thick, hard cock filling her mouth never fails to arouse her. She groans, her eyes hooded, her head tilted to one side and, opening her mouth wide, jerking his shaft in her fist, winds her tongue cunningly around the cock-head, delicately probing the long slit in its tip. Ashok gasps thickly, his hips lurching and twitching back and forth, his hands on her head. He bends his head and watches her. It is an erotic sight and arouses him further. His cock grows slimy with pre-cum gunk and she whimpers in pleasure, caressing her face with it toying it with her lips and tongue and teeth. Rising, she licks and tongues his belly wantonly and pushes his cock down into her cleavage through her blouse.
Ashok gasps at the soft warmth of her breast-sheath. He can feel her hard nipples scraping his shaft as she squeezes her breasts over his penis; can feel, too, the rasp of the *mangalsutra* on his thick shaft. It is a wonderful feeling. His penis throbs and quivers in eager anticipation.
Hema groans. She loves the feel of his thick, hard cock between her breasts.
Drawing his cock out, she takes it in her mouth again and begins sucking it hungrily.
