It was a cold evening in Bangalore. I was going to a farewell party for Raj, our beloved colleague. I showered, picked out a nice full-sleeved shirt, crisply ironed and put on a pair of blue jeans and boots. I looked in the mirror and thought, “Not bad for a 39-year-old.”
I did not want to drive my car, hence booked an Uber to reach the pub that was en route to the airport. There was a prediction of rain later that evening. I thought I would stay for an hour, raise a glass, celebrate endings and head back home before the weather got bad.
Once I arrived, I saw a banner hung, proclaiming, “Bon Voyage, Raj!” I greeted Raj and then headed to the bar and ordered myself a glass of whisky. As the clock struck 7:00 PM, the room filled with colleagues – some teary-eyed, others wearing brave smiles.
Raj stood at the centre, a mix of gratitude and nostalgia etched on his face. He thanked everyone for the memories of the late-night brainstorming sessions. The camaraderie that had become his lifeline.
During the heartfelt speeches and stories, I observed a co-worker. She wore a crimson scarf elegantly wrapped around her neck. With a polite smile, she asked, “Is this seat taken?” Her name was Sanvi.
Unfortunately, Sanvi had faced some negative perceptions at work due to her husband’s overseas presence. Despite this, she carried herself with grace and resilience. I treated Sanvi with respect. Who was I to pass judgment? Sanvi exuded the kind of grace that would make any parent proud.
Her personality had a sweet, down-to-earth quality, a touch of the farm girl charm. Her appearance was above average, with a cute face and a well-proportioned body. Sanvi settled into the chair beside me, and I graciously ordered a drink for her.
Our interactions had been strictly work-related until now. Sanvi’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you,” she said, accepting the drink. Her fingers brushed mine briefly, and I felt a jolt.
“Cheers to Raj,” I said, raising my glass. “May his new journey be as remarkable as the one he leaves behind.”
Sanvi nodded, “He’s been a mentor to me,” she confessed.
I leaned in, intrigued. “And what about you? What’s your story, Sanvi?”
She hesitated, then leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “My husband,” she began softly, “He’s overseas. We’ve been apart for months now.”
The words hung heavy in the air. I understood—the loneliness, the ache of missing someone. “That can’t be easy,” I said, my voice gentle.
Sanvi’s gaze returned to mine. “No,” she admitted. “But it’s a sacrifice we make for our dreams. He’s pursuing his career, and I’m here, building mine.”
I leaned closer, our breaths mingling. “You’re more than your negative perception at work,” I said. “You’re a dreamer, a fighter.”
Sanvi’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. “And you, Nishant? What’s your story?”
“Life is full of surprises,” I replied. “And tonight, amidst farewells, I find myself sharing secrets with you.”
Sanvi’s hand brushed mine again, and this time, it lingered. “Maybe,” she said, “we’re each other’s serendipity.”
A few minutes later, the waiter discreetly delivered a note to Sanvi. He gestured toward the sender—a guy across the room. Sanvi’s expression shifted from curiosity to disappointment as she read the note.
She turned to me, her eyes questioning, and asked, “Nishant, what on earth is this? That guy is a complete loser.”
I suggested two options: First, I could ask him to back off. Second, I could put my arm around you, and we could pretend we’re here together. The choice is yours.
“If you’re comfortable with it,” Sanvi whispered, “put your arm around me.” I obliged, put my right arm around her, and she leaned in. Her perfume, an intoxicating blend of mystery and warmth, enveloped me. The guy who had sent Sanvi the note lingered nearby.
So fueled by a mix of defiance and protectiveness. I leaned closer, capturing Sanvi’s lips in a gentle kiss—a silent declaration that she was mine. Even if just for this fleeting moment. He got up and walked away.
Sanvi encouraged me to maintain the closeness. Her left hand found its way to the in between my thighs. In that charged moment, we both sensed an undeniable attraction. The tension hung in the air as she squeezed my thigh, silently conveying a shared desire for more.
I suggested that we bid our farewells and go somewhere more private. “Nishant, if you’re comfortable with it, come with me. Let’s go home.” As we said our goodbyes to the other colleagues, it started raining. We hurried to her car, seeking shelter from the downpour. The rain intensified.
Through the rain, we drove from the pub to Sanvi’s house. The windshield wipers swished back and forth, and raindrops danced on the glass. Inside the car, we were snug and warm, a cosy bubble amid the wet streets.
Once we reached her house, Sanvi offered me beer or whisky. I chose whisky, and we sat next to each other on the couch.
“Nishant, you’re the first man I’ve kissed in a long time. And you’re married. I want you—I really do—but I don’t want to be the one responsible for breaking up your marriage.”
I confided in Sanvi, “Yes, I am married. My wife and I share a deep bond. We’ve reached a point where we unofficially have an open marriage. So, please don’t carry any guilt about being with me. We can take things at your pace – slow or fast. Alternatively, we can sit here and enjoy each other’s company. Your comfort matters to me, genuinely.”
Sanvi leaned and pushed me back on the couch and crawled on top of me. While we kissed deeply and passionately, my hands squeezed her ass, our kiss seemed like an hour. The living room was getting hot. Sanvi sat up and pulled off her top, showing me her bra covered 34c.
Soon, she removed my shirt. Sanvi rubbed her hands over my chest and complimented me on it. I told her, “You look fantastic. I’m eager to see the rest of you.”
Without saying a word, Sanvi stood up and pulled her jeans down, leaving her panties on, and I took my jeans off. Sanvi stared at my underwear-covered cock. The head of my cock was almost peeking out.
Sanvi laughed and asked, “Did I cause that? I want to see the rest of him?”
I slowly pulled my boxer down. My cock popped out, and Sanvi simply said, “Oh my God.”
I pulled Sanvi into me and kissed her. “He’s yours anytime you want him. Now let me go down and see your pussy.” saying this, I dropped to my knees and pulled her panties down. Her legs and pussy were waxed, and it was as smooth as butter or honey gliding on them.
“Are you ok with me licking you baby?” I asked.
“You better, and then you better fuck me with that.”
I had Sanvi sit on the edge of the couch as I began licking, sucking and fingering her pussy. Sanvi used both of her hands to pull my face into her dripping pussy as she got off over and over again.
She screamed, “Nishant, Nishant, Nishant, don’t stop.”
Sanvi was almost crying until I stuck my index finger deep into her ass. She cried out, “Ah. I gotta catch my breath.” I grabbed my shirt to wipe my face. And then started kissing her.
“Nishant, I’m on the Pill. Now fuck me,” she ordered.
I got on top of Sanvi and slowly started fucking her. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. We got into a nice rhythm. Our bodies moved as one. Sanvi’s pussy was the perfect combination of wetness and tightness.
“Go easy, Nishant. I’m enjoying this, and I want it to last,” Sanvi begged.
When I felt like I was going to cum, I asked Sanvi to stand up. I bent her over the couch as I entered her from behind. Sanvi’s body shuttered in pleasure.
I picked up the pace and told her, “Be ready for more Sanvi. I’m going to fuck you hard now.”
“Fuck me hard, Nishant,” Sanvi demanded.
I held her luscious hips and watched her tits shake back and forth on every stroke.
“Oh, God, Nishant! Harder… Harder… Harder….” She couldn’t get enough.
“I’m going to cum Sanvi, Where do you want it?”
“In my mouth.”
I pulled out, and Sanvi turned around just in time to watch my cum squirt all over her face. Sanvi sucked my dick dry. And wiped the rest of my cum onto her sweaty tits.
Just then, my mobile phone rang. It was my wife wanting to know if I was ok. She was stuck at a friend’s house. As I held Sanvi close in my arms, we explained each other’s situations. She was very understanding and asked a lot of questions about my sexual experiences.
Sanvi said, “Nishant, for a long time, I have had the craving of being with another woman.” We discussed how we could make it into reality, and that excited her.
Sanvi and I had some wild sex the next morning when she woke me up with an incredible blowjob. She wanted me to cum, but I wanted to fuck her again. I had Sanvi stand up and bend her over her dresser. I slid into her easily. Her pussy was soaking wet.
Sanvi cried out, “I love your cock, Nishant. God, I love it. Fill me up, please!”
“Is this pussy mine now? Is it? Let me hear you say it.”
“It’s yours. It’s yours. Now cum inside me.”
I pulled out of Sanvi and had her lay on her back. I resumed fucking her as fast as I could. “Do you want this cock on a regular basis, Sanvi? Let me hear you say it.
“Yes.” She cried out.
“Here it comes, Sanvi. Ah.”
Sanvi closed her eyes as she felt my cum being released inside her. Her legs were locked around my back.
“Yes, Nishant, yes. I needed that so badly. Kiss me.”
We both enjoyed ourselves. Sanvi was one of the hottest fuck’s I ever had. Sanvi and I showered together and then ate breakfast.
There was something special about Sanvi. The way she made me feel when we kissed was electrifying. I knew we had to have each other on a regular basis and express ourselves. Sanvi felt the same way. Just as long as our sexual adventures didn’t get revealed to our co-workers.
And that, my friends, is how a farewell party became the backdrop for an unexpected connection. One that warmed our hearts and led to a passionate night of incredible fucking.
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