Hi, I am Madhan here. I am a Bengalurean, 6″ tall. You can reach me on my hangout/mail [email protected] and Telegram @msarsstr.
Only Genuine Couples(Swap/Group/Orgy/Cuckold/Lesbian), Horny, unsatisfied housewives, and cute baby dolls for discrete one-on-one can approach me. The fun will be with anonymity and secrecy.
You can read my story about Milf Geeta & the Rugged Rusty Auto-Driver
This story is purely a work of fiction.
This story will be narrated from the footsteps of Lakshmi
It’s a Friday. Being a project lead, I(Lakshmi) had to request a half day from my boss. The project work was in full swing. My boss, who always wanted a piece of me, nodded with an angry face. I never entertained his intentions.
I park my car and hear the voices of my motherly aunt talking to my mother. I noticed the bullet, which belonged to my neighbour Mani. I smile when I think that Mani, who was married, also badly wanted to fuck me. I was such a beauty.
My aunt was talking about the boy’s side family. With no excitement and a frustrated face, I step out of the car. I eye the car mirror and notice a newly formed pimple on my bubbly, fair cheek. I take slow, unintending steps to the main door and ring the bell.
My school-going cousin-sister opened the door. “Hi, Akka (Sister).” Even after meeting so often, she always gets excited seeing me. I hug her, switching my sad face to a smile. My first aunt and my mother were in the kitchen preparing dishes for the evening.
My aunt’s voice was always too loud. “Putti. Why can’t you take leave at least on these days?” My aunt spoke, sneaking from the kitchen. I brushed away her comments (Obviously my mom’s guided words), mumbling, “Had some important work.” I rushed to my bedroom with my sister behind me.
I always have one or the other chocolate in my handbag. My sister gazes at my bag as I unzip. I hand her a dairy milk bar and she returns to the hall to watch some cartoon. I walk to the kitchen to munch something. My aunt notices the small pimple.
My mom advised me to apply some sandal paste, and she made a face. I know the reason for the sulk on her face. This was the 16th boy who was coming to visit for the marriage alliance. I find some snacks and carry them on a plate to my room to escape from the next comments from the mother and aunty.
I pass one chakli to my cousin-sister before heading back to my bedroom. My mom shouts behind me to take a head bath. She knows I will take a head bath, but still, she declares it. I hate it to be schooled by my mom.
I want to do what I would like. I don’t reply to her head bath comment and rush to my bedroom. I lock the door and scroll through the boy’s pic again. I realize my mistake of agreeing and starting very late to look for the alliance. In two months, I was stepping into 32.
I was too focused on my career and did not want to compromise my growth by the marriage hindrance. At 32, I still look very pretty. I have a good number of followers who are dying to have a single chance to fuck me. But that’s that these hungry men want to fuck me but not marry me.
The age number was one of the major reasons for the rejections. I am a chill kind of person, not bothered about marriage and stuff. But past few months, the agony and pain of my parents have had it’s effects on me and my emotions.
I return to the groom’s pic who was visiting today. I smile since at least he looks ok, Not fat, Not bald, Not ugly. He looks decent. But never a match to my cuteness.
After crossing the age of 30, we have to call ourselves women, not a girl. I am a hot woman with nice structured assets. The first reason for rejections owed to my heavy plump body. I made it a point and hit the gym. Now I look very shapely with a slim navel and sexy pair of boobs and ass.
The reason for rejection changed from me being plump to me being too hot. Soo hot and sexy to handle. I don’t know what was wrong with my jataka (Horoscope). The clock runs fast. The time was 7 P.M. I have been ready and waiting from 6 P.M.
My house was filled with my mom, dad, two aunts, 2 cousins, and one of my uncles. I continue to wait in the bedroom with one of my cousin-sisters. I hate all this. I am dressed up in a traditional green saree with gold jewels emanating my beauty one notch high.
Some gut feeling was that this guy would be my life partner. The boy’s family reached at 07:30. I could watch them from the small opening through the bedroom door. I saw the boy in formal attire who sat between her mom and dad.
All started talking and exchanging information about each other’s family. The boy’s eyes scanned the house and caught me sneaking out of my room. He was blushing. I could not blush. It all seemed reverse to me. I was the one who was to blush.
Suddenly, a doubt crept into my head. Is this the right boy for me?
Like all girls, I acted, creating a blush on my cheeks, and asked my cousin-sister to close the door. After some time, my dad calls me. Like in movies, I carry a tray, handing coffee mugs to all sitting in the hall.
Like sculpted art, I had to exhibit to all of them. They will see every bit of me from all directions. Her parents asked some routine questions. I knew these questions were to ascertain my speaking and voice levels. I kept a low womanly voice and answered with grace.
I expected the boy to ask me some questions, but none came from him. I walked out to return to my bedroom. My dad told me to remain seated. Oh god, the boy was all smiles. I kept a normal face. The meeting finally ended at 08:15.
I had to stand near the gate until the car left the scene. My second aunt, who was very close to me, hugged me, hushing in my ear, “Did you like him?” I have no other option but to say yes. He looked decent and ok. I return to the bedroom and get out of this messy saree and all the accessories.
From his smile, I knew he would agree, and my parent’s misery would end. This happiness was shattered on the same weekend, Saturday night spoiling my tranquillity for the Sunday. The groom side spoke to my dad on the minimum matching of the horoscope.
I felt sad not for the rejection but for the sorrow and the start of the usual unnecessary taunts of my parents. My house fell silent, with very less talks between the members. I was frustrated again.
At 32, I won’t say I am a virgin. But I stayed fresh from the day my parents started seeing an alliance. Sunday after lunch, I darkened all the blinds of my bedroom door and hid myself in the thick comforter. I never wanted to get out of the comforter.
I wanted to relieve myself of the frustration and the stress I was in. I don’t want to cry. I decided to read some nice erotic stories. I scrolled and read a lot of erotic stories on ISS. All through the reading, my hands rubbed all over my body.
I enjoy the way some authors build the heat in the story before the marathon fuck session. Two years was very long to stay away from a man’s touch. My fingers dirtily rubbed the drenched pussy to orgasm. The frustration of rejection was still raw in my head.
I wanted a man to caress me, to hold me, to keep me inside his warm chest, to fuck me, to hug me tightly, to comb his fingers in my hair, and to kiss me. But I don’t want him to be part of my life. I decided to text one of the authors for anonymous fun.
I chatted with three authors, but one seemed genuine and practical. I wanted to get relieved quickly. We planned to meet on Tuesday. The guy was tall, around 6ft, matching my height of 5.5 ft. He looked fit but not built. I liked him.
Once, we were inside the Airbnb flat at 11 in the morning. I told him to wait as I took the bag to the washroom. I carried my Alliance Day Green saree. Before, I had been fucked by men, but this was new, and there was some excitement.
I was horny and eager for his touch. Was this because he was a stranger? Was this because I was untouched for more than 2 years? Was it I am a slut? Was it because I was desperate for sex?
I brush the thoughts away. I open the door and wait for Madhan. Madhan comes and watches me from the door. He watches me with his lust-filled eyes scanning from head to toe. He forwards his hand and I was suddenly blushing with my cheeks turning red as I held onto his hands.
He yanks me with a single pull, dragging me out of the washroom. He twirls me around, pressing my front on the wall next to the washroom door. His broad hands parted the hair away, revealing the sandy bareback through the deep-cut blouse.
He brushes his fingers gently, running from behind my ear. The first touch left goosebumps on my body. His finger slowly travelled, touching the back of my neck. His fingers brushed slowly around the bareback, teasing me badly.
His fingers reached the back of my navel. He then grabbed my protruding ass cheeks and squeezed them hard, balling one cheek after another. His hands were strong, and his squeeze was painful. While his hands squeezed, his body inched closer to me.
His wet lips found my ears, and I breathed moans when his lips kissed my ears and started sucking them. “Ah, Madhan.” I could feel his warm breath. He cleanly parted my hair and sucked my ears longer than ever.
I never expected my pussy to go wet so fast. His lips and tongue were savaging my ears, and I was all moaning. His strong palm continued to massage my ass cheeks over the saree. His lips moved from my ears to my back, “What a body you have, Lakshmi.”
Saying this, his lips were kissing my back madly and hurriedly at first. Fuck I was moaning with my head and body pressed hard into the wall. He squeezed his hand into my ass crack with his fingers trying to reach my pussy through the tightly wrapped saree.
He had tempted me badly. I was already thanking him since my frustration and stress had slowly started vanishing from my head with his hand all over me.
Thank you, all XIS readers.