The rejection of Sangeeta part 2

Author; Storyace, [Aceinthe_hole]

Title; The rejection of Sangeeta [part 2]

Part 2 of 2

Summary; A call from London; Sangeeta wants him back. So begins Joey's sexual odyssey as he tries to find his way to her.

Keywords;  M/F M/F/F, interrac, old/youn

 You may want to read; The rejection of Sangeeta part 1 first

"I was angry with myself for falling in love with Joey.

I knew better, but I'd stayed there anyway, a glutton for punishment.

He was a sweet boy, enthusiastic like a puppy, and as irresistible.

He was good fun in bed [if a bit inexperienced], and nice to talk to as well; but I mean, come on! He was a car mechanic. He lived with his parents. He had dreams of better things, but even those were far below my expectations.

I took the train into town and waited at my flat for Harry.

I knew he would be angry with me for staying away for a month; he'd want all the details. He'd want to belittle my affair, make fun of my poor American boyfriend.

The last thing I wanted was sex, but I knew it would be the first thing Harry would want. He might be old, but he always was a horny bastard.

Four hours after my plane had landed, so had Harry. He had me on my back and he was giving me a proper seeing to.

It was alright; I'd chosen to come back to him, I knew the score. It was oddly comforting to have his familiar body on top of me again, to feel his big cock naked inside me as he pumped away.

Because then I knew my worth; his penis in my body was like a signed contract between us, it meant he accepted me back. I was his fancy woman, he was my sugar daddy.

I held him tightly, enjoying the feeling of security I got from the knowledge that my lover was wealthy and would take care of me. I concentrated on his cock, letting the sensation of it push out the memory of my cute but poor Joey.

Harry never used a condom. I felt his semen squirting into me as his body stiffened and jerked. I didn't come, but that was ok. It would take a bit of time.

Later, we went out. I was back in my familiar role, dressed up in one of my tight little dresses with stockings and a suspender belt but no knickers on, giving strangers the occasional flash as Harry talked to some friend of his about a stock deal.

I danced with Claire, a gorgeous blond who was a kept woman like me. We got sexy together on the dance floor, running our fingers over each other.

I did it with a woman in two of the videos I was in, and sometimes I thought I wouldn't mind having a go for real, just to try it. We kissed, but it was just for the show, to make our guys pay attention to us.

We sat down and Harry kissed me hard as he grabbed my ass.

"I've missed you." He said.

I stuck my tongue in his mouth so I wouldn't have to tell him I hadn't missed him much at all.

Harry was a handsome man. He'd probably been better looking than Joey when he was a bit younger. He had a big cock. I sat in the club, part of the scene, trying to make myself want to be there again.

Nothing seemed to work. I kept thinking of America, not just of Joey but the whole family and especially the baby. I'd so enjoyed caring for her.

Harry used to pester me from time to time to swap partners with one of his friends, and I finally agreed, thinking that having it off with a different guy might help me get over my silly emotions.

Henry was really good looking; tall and blond, blue eyed, lean, strong. He was rich too, old money blue blood type.

We all met for dinner, and then we went back to Henry's town house. It was a lovely 3 story brick building full of antiques and fine expensive things; the sort of place I dreamed of being part of.

His girlfriend was a young Thai woman who didn't say much. She went upstairs with Harry, I went with Henry after a little while.

I felt a bit numb about everything. I wanted to enjoy myself, I should have been enjoying myself, but I couldn't quite tell whether I was or not.

Henry seemed decent enough. He was in his late 20's I guessed, with clear milky white skin. I let him kiss me, I let him undress me too.

I pulled on his cock as he ran his fingers over me. It was nice, and his thing was exceptional; thick, long and straight.

I moved down to suck him, and that big cock in my mouth finally forced my mind to relax. It was good; the powerful young masculinity filled my head and pushed away my silly emotional funk.

I rolled onto my back after a while and spread my legs. He smiled at me and I smiled back. He put on a condom and climbed aboard.

It felt good going in; why shouldn't it? He was young, good looking, and rich. He was everything I ever wanted, even if it was only for a night.

I relaxed on the big soft bed as Henry banged me expertly. He was really good for a young guy, better than Joey I thought.

But even then, I couldn't seem to forget that American car mechanic. Even as I was doing it with a member of the British nobility in a London mansion.

I grabbed at his ass and bucked upwards to meet his strokes, crushing my full brown tits against his smooth wide chest. I had to come... I thought if I could just have a good orgasm or two, that would surely do the trick.

Henry's big hard cock rammed deep into me, his handsome young face grinned, and I managed to come in his strong arms.

In the morning the Thai woman, Privathi, brought up breakfast in bed.

"Where's Harry?" I asked her.

"He had to go home to his wife." She said, getting into bed with us.

Henry got up to take a shower, and I got talking to his girlfriend. She wasn't as stupid as I'd thought at first. She cuddled up with me under the covers, which was odd but nice.

I felt her hand on my thigh. It didn't go anywhere, it just stayed there as she told me a little bit about herself.

  I kissed her impulsively, and she responded.

She was a small thing, but pretty. Maybe an affair with a woman would make me feel better I was thinking suddenly. She had such fine smooth skin...

Our bodies came together, our arms wrapping around each other. There was something familiar about her, she was so much like me; Asian, a poor girl in a rich man's house. I wondered if he paid her, if she was like a servant, or more like a mistress / girlfriend.

I didn't mind either way. At that moment, I was just enjoying her kiss.

There was something honest about it. We weren't doing it to please anyone else, it wasn't a game. It was spontaneous, sweet, and somehow pure.

There was no hard cock, no body hair, no abrasiveness. She was as feminine as I was, maybe even more feminine.

Her touch was the most striking thing; so gentle, so soft. I'd never been touched like that before.

It was the most exciting thing to happen to me for ages, finding myself in this plush expensive house making love with this lovely creature. I felt myself relaxing, the tension and conflict slipping away.

"You are so beautiful, but so sad." She whispered.

"So are you." I whispered back.

There could be pleasure between us, but I didn't think I could come without a cock, without a gruff huffing hairy man to ram it up my middle; but that was ok. I could enjoy sex without actually having an orgasm. I often didn't come with Harry, and I wasn't bothered by it.

I looked up to see Henry standing next to the bed, with his big penis stiff in his hand.

I was slightly disappointed; but it was his bed and his house, so I didn't complain when he got in with us.

I did threesomes in the movies, but that was different; it wasn't real.

I mean, we did it, but not because we wanted to, because it was our job. It was all about genitals, that was where the camera always was. No one even bothered to pretend we had any interest in each other.

It was different with Henry and Privati. It was about hands, legs, backs. It was about touch and sensuality.

But Henry did have that expectant penis...

I lay on my back with my head between Privati's firm little breasts as she stroked my face with her fingertips and her cute rich boyfriend got into position, put his big stiff cock against me, and proceeded to penetrate.

The odd thing was, I wasn't particularly interested. I should have been; he was just what I'd always wanted, and more. I tried to get into it, I wanted to get into it, I wanted to want him.

But I just didn't.

His big young cock was alright, it felt fine as he slid it in. I held him tightly and worked on enjoying myself, but I just kept thinking of damn Joey again.

I cursed myself for a fool; Henry was perfect in every way, and all I could think of was a homeless loser thousands of miles from where I wanted to be.

I looked at Henry as he gave it to me, grunting and heaving, his cock massaging my insides. I did a fair job of pretending it was the greatest fuck of my life, just to be polite.

I didn't mind him having his fun. I was kind of flattered I guess, but I just wasn't interested in him just then. I wished he would just pop him cork and be done.

He pulled out and I rolled over, so I could look at and kiss Privathi while he did it to me from behind; that was better; I was quite attracted to her, which was pretty strange and exciting to me, since I'd never even considered having a woman as a lover until then. It was kinky to lie on top of her and ignore Henry as he humped me from behind. I

Looked into her slanty brown eyes and wondered what was behind them; was she a prostitute? Her skin so soft and smooth, her hands so sensual, her mouth well defined and sexy. I kissed her, and I came.

Henry pulled out again and lay on his back while I kissed him for a while and Privathi sucked his big cock.

I wanted to be alone with Privathi again. There was something between us that had stopped when Henry and his ready cock got into bed with us.

So I took over and sucked him until he came in my mouth. Even though I wasn't into Henry, I love to do that to guys; I feel in control of a guy when I have his hard cock in my mouth. I know he won't be going anywhere until I'm through. I like it when they come; all helpless and sweet, but harmless. As if I sucked the strength and power right out, leaving them empty and useless.

I was happy when he left, and we could take a peaceful bath together. We washed each other's hair, we dried up and went back to bed. We talked... we fondled each other too, but the main thing we did was just talk. It was really nice, so much more intimate than I'd ever gotten with a man somehow.

"I really like Joey, but how could I be happy with a man like that?" I asked her.

"You mean poor?"

"Yes. At least he's young though, he has head hair."

"I don't mind older men as lovers." Privathi said as I sucked her stiff nipple experimentally, kneading her tight breast gently in my hands. "I've been with men even older than your Harry; they were all sweet and considerate, and sometimes even very good lovers. But I wouldn't want to live with an old man."

"Why not? If he was rich?"

"You put too much importance on money." she said, "An old man is like an old car, good fun while still in working order, but you know he will break down soon. And then you'll be stuck taking care of him."

"So what I need is a wealthy young man like Henry. If you don't mind sharing."

Privathi laughed and put her face between my legs, kissing the insides of my thighs sensuously.

"I don't mind at all, in fact you can have him, I'll soon leave him. I have my own money, it's not about that.

"Henry is an emotional cripple. He keeps running after different women, and as soon as he has whoever he was chasing, he loses interest. You'll never find that security you crave with Henry."

I ran my fingers through her thick black hair as her tongue gently scraped up and down my vagina. It felt nice, yet it wasn't like real sex. It was too mellow somehow, too safe. Sex is mad, dangerous, thrilling.

Security; she had a point, that's what I really wanted.

There was no future with old Harry. He had a wife and children; when his strength and money fall short, I'd be the first extravagance he'd lose.

And even though her tongue was really very pleasant down there, I knew I was primarily a girl who was into men.

I screamed and nearly jumped off the mattress as she started to suck my clit.

She lifted her head for a second. "You could come live with me. I have a good job and my own house." She said.

"We could drive men mad." I laughed, pushing my crotch against her pretty little mouth.

I held her head tight as she gave me hard tongue. I was so turned on by her now; I was nearly in love with her... I had a beautiful orgasm, fantasizing about it; I'd be her woman, we'd be lovers and live together as dikes.

We didn't talk for a while. I returned the favor, thankful that she was shaved. I think crotch hair on girls is gross.

I like sucking cock better; that hard rod in the mouth just does something special for me. But I did like licking and sucking Privathi, just because she was so sweet to me. I hadn't really had any close girlfriends before.

It was good fun to make her come; it was so funny how she squeaked and jumped around while I struggled to hold on tight enough to keep my mouth on her."

I was downstairs in my room watching tv, trying to ignore the pain in my gut when the phone rang. Someone upstairs answered, then banged on the floor above me twice, meaning it was for me.

My heart raced; could it be Sangeeta?

It wasn't. It was a woman with an oriental accent.

"You Joey? My name is Privathi. I calling you about Sangeeta."

"Is she alright?" I asked.

"She's sick. Love sick. What about you?"

I was dumbstruck for a few seconds.

"I guess I am too." I admitted. "Who are you?"

"You want her back?" The stranger asked.

"Yes, but..."

"Ok, you listen to me. Sangeeta is my friend. She has some issues, you know?"

"Like what?"

"She wants security, commitment, all that. You want to marry her?"

Marriage is almost a dirty word in my family. My dad had been married to my mother and it was a complete disaster. Marriage is when the church and state gets involved in people's relationships.

"You think about it. I call you back in a couple of days ok?" she said.

"Uh... Yeah. Ok." I said.

Marriage was expensive. I was working, we were all working, every hour we could, spending as little as possible. We still had a way to go before we would have the money to start our shop. If I were to have a wedding it would set us all back for months.

But Sangeeta; could I really have her? For myself? Forever?

My mind was spinning. I'd give anything, but it wasn't all mine to give. I had to talk to the rest of the family first.

"Privathi put the phone down and smiled at me like a cat who had just eaten.

"Marriage? Where did that idea come from?" I asked her.

She slid over and put her head between my tits, fondling one of them with her hand.

"Close your eyes." She said, "And imagine this; your sugar daddy Harry walks in here right now, he's naked, his big cock is stiff and he wants to have sex with you. What will you do? How do you feel?"

"I'll let him do what he wants." I said.

"But you don't want him?" Privathi insisted.

"Not really. But that's not important."

"Ok, now imagine; your rich old man takes you shopping, buy beautiful expensive things for you, go to nice restaurant, pay you attention all day. How do you feel?"

"Cautious."

"Hmm. Ok, your American mechanic walks in the room; his hair is a mess, he's wearing old clothes. He kisses you..."

Privathi rolled over and kissed me.

"How do you feel now?"

"What does that matter?"

"Don't be stubborn, how do you feel? What does your belly tell you?"

"Excited. Happy." I admitted.

"You won't get what you want from that old man." She announced. "He's charming, he's good in bed too. I had good fun with him, but he's a bastard. He'll dump you when he's through with you.

"You want family, love, babies. You need a man who will accept you completely for who you are."

"But I told you I can't have babies." I said.

"You can with IVF." She said. "You can if you really want." she said. "Lick my pussy again?"

"Of course."

Like most expensive things, marriage can be done on the cheap with a little imagination.

I got a flight to London for $375 round trip. We would be married at the registry office there, and Privathi was giving us her house and car to use for our honeymoon, while she went to Thailand to visit her family.

We'd have a party when we got back to the states; a big barbeque in my back yard.

I'd barely even spoken to Sangeeta. Privathi was arranging everything in some weird semi-oriental manner.

As instructed, I took the train into town, then got a taxi to where I was to spend the night, at the house of a friend of Privathi's.

"You don't see your bride before the wedding." The Thai woman had told me.

It was a large imposing building on a street of similar ones, in a clearly upmarket neighborhood. There was only 1 doorbell.

A middle aged plainly dressed woman opened the door to my ring.

"Veronica?" I asked.

"No, I'm the maid." She said in an east European accent. "Miss veronica is still in bed, she'll meet you for breakfast. Come in. Your room is upstairs, third on the left."

I took my bags up a long wide staircase that curved elegantly through the large entrance hall.

The room was large and opulent. The floor was marble, covered with oriental carpets. The furniture looked antique, the expensive kind.

The bathroom was too; as a part time builder myself, I could see the workmanship was excellent, but it was all at least 30 years old. Of course in an older house in a city 10 centuries old, that might be considered modern.

I showered and put on fresh clothes. I felt pretty intimidated by everything; I hadn't been expecting something like this.

If Sangeeta was used to this type of thing, how could she possibly be happy living with me in my stepmother's house? Was I trying to take on much more than I could? Or was this just pre-wedding jitters?

I went downstairs and found the dining room. A large table was set with 2 places, so I sat down at one of them to fidget.

After a few minutes my hostess strode into the room.

She was stunning; tall and opulently blond, with large breasts bulging through a thin silver satin robe that was totally revealing despite being ankle length. I stood to greet her as she smiled irresistibly at me.

"You must be Joey, I'm Veronica." She said. Even her voice was sexy, deep for a woman and with that crisp accent of the upper crust British.

As we were served by the maid, I felt as if I'd left real life and entered a movie. I was struggling to keep my head on straight.

But the statuesque blond I was suddenly thrown together with was just a person inside her very attractive form, and soon we were chatting away as if we had breakfast together all the time.

"You must be so nervous! Have you ever been married before?" she asked.

"No. Have you?"

"Lots of times. Well, three actually."

I spent the day jabbering with the vivacious woman.

"You must be terribly nervous about the wedding tomorrow." She said as we sat in the living room, or drawing room as she called it. "Are you really going to marry that woman?"

"That's why I came to London." I said.

"But Privathi told me you only know her a few months, and from what I hear she... well, her reputation isn't the best."

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I had a pretty fair idea.

"She used to be the girlfriend of a drug dealer, then she was the mistress of a wealthy married man twice her age. She's even been in pornographic movies!"

"I know." I said.

"You could do better." Veronica suggested.

I looked at the attractive heiress silently, wondering exactly what she had in mind. She didn't waste much time in telling me.

"You could stay here with me. I need a man like you, all my husbands were completely useless... you know about practical things."

She moved closer.

"You're young and handsome." She whispered. "And I really like you."

She moved closer still.

Her big breasts were nearly touching me, her innocent pale eyes had me fixed in place. Her hair fell across me, and I was trapped.

She was rich... beautiful, sexy. Was a chance with her worth throwing away my relationship for?

Her hands held my face with a light unbreakable grip. She swung her knee over my lap and she was on me, her breasts on my shoulders as her hungry mouth hit my lips with mind-numbing force.

Involuntarily, my hands found her waist. Her tongue was pushing at my lips, and somehow slipped in to abuse me further.

I couldn't tell what [if anything] she was wearing under her thin gown, but my cock was trying to break through my jeans to check.

Somewhere amongst the raging hormones in my brain, a small voice was trying to get through, but I couldn't quite hear it.

Sangeeta was far away, I hadn't seen her, I hadn't talked to her. What if I refused the delicious Veronica, and then this wedding fell through?

But then the little voice got louder. Sangeeta was not just an image, a sexy woman, an idea.

She was my love, my betrothed. If I couldn't stay faithful now, only hours before our wedding, then what hope did we have of ever making it as a couple?

Like waking from a dream, I forced my mind into rationality, and gently pushed the desperate English woman away.

"I'm sorry." I said.

"I am as well." She said breathlessly. "I don't know what came over me."

Privathi dropped in just before dinner.

She was a small woman, fine boned and pretty in an east Asian way.

"So, good to meet you at last." She said, shaking my hand. "Are you ready to get married tomorrow?"

"I think so." I said. "Where's Sangeeta?"

"Sangeeta staying at my place. You see her tomorrow at registration office for your wedding." She said with a nearly inscrutable smile

That night as I was getting into bed, my hostess entered my room.

She was wearing a transparent black teddy, belted at her tight waist, barely covering her big breasts, leaving her long legs bare and just about covering her muff.

"Listen Joey... If you change your mind, my room is right across the hall. The door is open. We could just have a little fun if you want; after all, you're not married yet."

She turned and went.

I couldn't sleep.

Sangeeta; I must be nuts. She would never stay with me, she'd break my heart and probably my bank too.

I thought of her, I could see her smile. Then I saw her with her sugar daddy, that arrogant old banker. I thought of the things she'd done, those movies.

Veronica, healthy and eager... so close, so available. Not to mention rich.

Without making a conscious decision, I got out of bed and crept into her room.

She'd left a light on. She was asleep on her side, still wearing the sexy teddy. I could see her broad smooth back, the curve of her shoulder. The smooth white globes of her naked pampered ass protruded upwards, begging for my lips. I stepped to the base of the bed, and I could see her pink vagina clearly.

I had permission; I could just climb in there with her, wake her up to have some fun, ease my mind.

I stroked my hard cock, listening to her relaxed even breathing.

Maybe some sex would clear my head, I would sleep and wake up better able to make the biggest choice of my life.

In my mind, I fantasized; we would travel between London and the Caribbean, I'd knock her up and maybe we'd marry.

If there was ever a place to sow one's wild oats, I was looking at it.

Her womb would grow good strong children, her house would accommodate them easily, her money would assure them of the best education.

She was rich, voluptuous, sexy, blond, and willing.

I stroked myself, wishing she would wake up, terrified she'd wake up. I looked between her slightly parted legs.

Her pussy would be tight on my cock, she would hold me tight and cry as she came.

I would hold her tight as I pumped her, pushing my tongue between her lips

Her gorgeous body would engulf me as I shot my seed deep inside her.

She lay sleeping below me, peacefully unaware of the vulgarity taking place just a few feet from her.

I pinched myself closed as I came hard but silently.

I crept back across the hall and let the pressure out into the sink in my room.

Veronica was a dream babe, but Sangeeta was a real woman; I wasn't going to throw away a good relationship for a night with that hot blonde, sexy though she was.

In reality, women like Veronica might be interested in a guy like me for a night, but no more. She was probably only hot for me because I was engaged to someone else.

As I tried to get some sleep, I thought of my dark fiancé.

Porn star, an old man's mistress, infertile.

Beautiful, funny, and very honest though.

I thought of her face, her big smile, her strong even teeth.

I wasn't simply besotted by all the fantastic sex we'd had; I loved that damaged woman, if I could have her, I had to give it my best shot.

Sangeeta's friend Privathi came over the next morning to take me to my wedding. She looked lovely in a baby blue dress and very high heels, her black Asian hair gleaming in the morning sun.

There was something about her, she had a very attractive confidence and energy.

"Did you enjoy your night with Veronica?" she asked

I wasn't sure if she was insinuating something or if it was just a strange choice of words.

"I had trouble sleeping." I said, "I just want to see Sangeeta."

She smiled and sat on the sofa.

"Sit here with me for a minute." She said.

We were in Veronica's "drawing room", whatever that means. It was a huge room with high windows and thick carpets, full of expensive looking antiques and furniture. There were photos on the walls of grinning people holding drinks, obviously parties that had been held in the house. Some were celebrities I recognized; princess Diana, Elton John, some British TV actors.

"Sangeeta has asked me to arrange everything for her." Privathi said as I sat down. "That's how we do it in Asia."

"But Sangeeta is third generation British." I protested.

"That doesn't matter. She has an Indian face, so she is thought of as an Asian woman; not only by others, but by herself.

"She's in love with you, but that isn't a very solid basis for a marriage."

"What do you mean? What could be more solid than that?" I protested.

"Romantic love is intense, more addictive than heroine, and the high lasts only slightly longer. When it's gone, you will either develop the longer lasting and far more boring love of long term partners, or else break up.

"Sangeeta has no family, and when she marries you she will have no home or money either. She has no job skills or employment history. You don't have anything either I understand, so if you two break up she will have nothing as well as nowhere to go.

"We won't break up." I insisted.

"How do you know?" the feisty little woman retorted. "You're in the throes of love. You're a clever man Joey, so perhaps you can see things from my perspective for a moment. People in love are off their heads and shouldn't be making important decisions for themselves."

"In my culture, you fall in love, you get married." I said.

"And a few years later, you get divorced." She argued. "Have you had sex with anyone else since Sangeeta came back to England?"

"No." I said proudly.

"So you're wallowing in your emotional state, pining for her." She said.

"I guess so." I said

She frowned, which looked strange on her small oriental face.

"I have to decide whether to go ahead with this or not." She said. "It's a big responsibility."

"I don't understand, I thought Sangeeta has agreed to marry me." I said, my heart suddenly afraid.

"She has, but she's an Asian woman. She understands she needs someone to help her in this, someone rational and not in love. She has a good life here you know. Friends, an apartment.

"You need to have sex with someone else before you marry her." She concluded.

"That's ridicules!" I said.

"That's the new tradition." She said. "We used to marry as virgins for life. Today we have that "last fling", then check our feelings again."

"My wedding is supposed to be in four hours." I said.

Privathi stood and crossed the room. She stood next to Veronica, who had been listening to the whole strange conversation.

"Choose." The Thai woman said. "Me or Veronica."

"What?!"

"You have sex with one of us first, then you tell me again you want to marry Sangeeta."

"I don't want to cheat on my wife hours before our wedding!" I protested, "What kind of way is that to start a marriage?"

"Don't be so melodramatic." Privathi said. "You surely know Sangeeta has been with other people while you were separated. If anything, your abstinence will create resentment later. A marriage must be between equals if it's to last. So stop arguing with me now and choose. The pushy little oriental woman or the big breasted blond?"

My head was in a fog of confusion. What kind of crap was this? Did she really have the power to make or break my marriage? Was this a test?

Privathi looked at me with that unreadable face of the far-eastern people. Veronica just looked excited. I guess it was pretty funny from her point of view.

The two of them were total opposites; Privathi was so petite, she could have passed as a 15 year old. Veronica was nearly as tall as me, as curvy as an hourglass, with pale skin, long blonde curls, and blue eyes.

If I had to choose between them, it would have to be Privathi though. She was sharp, decisive, energetic. That's what I find sexy in a woman.

But how could I? Aside from my reluctance to cheat on my fiancé, it would mean rejecting my hostess. It was all too rude.

"Ok, I'm leaving you with Veronica." Privathi announced, breaking the silence.

Veronica clapped her hands and laughed like a child. "Lovely!"  She exclaimed.

"Blonde with big tits, that's what men like."  Privathi grumbled. "Anyway, I have a lot of things to do.  I'll come back at three."

She left in a blur of powder blue and glossy black.

I sat on the sofa as if paralyzed, looking across at the sexy heiress.  She smiled at me in a predatory way.

"Let's go upstairs, darling."  She said.

She was wearing another long gorgeous gown, a leaf green number that followed the curves of her body faithfully.  Her round ass gyrated before my face as I followed it up the long wide curving stairs.

In the bedroom where I had fantasized of her the night before, she turned to face me.

"That's quite a nice suit."  She said.

"My stepmother found it in a secondhand shop, my sister took it in a little bit to fit me.  I don't know anything about clothes." I said.

She laughed kindly; "That's all right.  I'm sure you know about lots of other things.  Now take your nice secondhand suit off for me."

She sat down on the bed, leaning back on her elbows.  Her large breasts bulged up and to each side, as if trying to escape the thin fabric of the dress that had surely cost far more than all the clothes I'd ever had put together.

"I don't feel right about it."  I told her.

"For God's sake sweetheart, stop fighting it."  She insisted, "There's nothing wrong with a little bit of recreational sex.  It's good for you, ask anybody."

She sat up and began to loosen my tie.

"Your fiancé hasn't been keeping her legs clamped together."  She continued, "I'm all for the sanctity of marriage if that's what turns you on, but like Privathi said, you aren't married yet."

She unbuttoned my jacket and my shirt.

"Privathi said that Sangeeta's been with other people?"  I asked her as she tugged at my belt buckle impatiently.

"Sweetheart, the woman you're intending to marry is a well-known tart."  Veronica informed me, "I have to confess I don't know her very well, she moves in different circles for the most part.  But I know her boyfriend quite well, he likes to... share."

My trousers dropped to my ankles, and the blonde had me by the balls. 

She looked up at me as she stroked my reluctantly stiff cock.

"It doesn't mean she can't be a good wife."  Veronica said, "I stayed monogamous during two of my marriages.  What a gorgeous cock!"

She dropped her face over my penis, taking a good few inches into her mouth as she sucked enthusiastically.

Was it true?  Or was she just trying to confuse me, just trying to get me to do what she wanted done?

I guess everyone has their limit.  Everyone has a point beyond which they can't resist.

In this plush mansion thousands of miles from my home, far from those who would judge me, I wrapped my fingers through her thick blond hair and pushed my American car mechanic cock deeper into her high class British mouth.

Holding her head in my hands, I jammed it in and out, fucking her mouth crudely.  In response, she wrapped her hands around my ass, squeezing the cheeks, pushing her long nails painfully into my flesh.

I pulled out and stepped back to get my shoes off.  She laughed triumphantly as she stood to peel off her dress.

Veronica threw herself back onto the mattress, opening her long pale legs to me.

I lifted a foot to my mouth, and she cooed happily as I kissed her manicured toes.  I ran my tongue up her long smooth calve, I brushed my lips along the inside of her milky white thigh.

Lightly, barely making contact at all, I touched her vagina with my tongue.  She was freshly shaved, she smelled and tasted as clean as a virgin. 

I kissed her other leg, I ran my tongue under the high arch of her foot.

I kissed her flat belly, I ran my tongue around each nipple before sucking one, and then the other.  I clamped her pretty head between my hands and bit her neck, her earlobe, her cheek.

I lay down on top of her, our naked bodies sharing the sensation of heat and touch as I kissed her mouth, pushing my tongue brazenly into her.

Her thighs parted briefly and closed around my penis, her hands stroked my shoulders and back.  She was hot for me.

We rolled over, Veronica was above me now.  She pulled her knees up and lifted her groin up slightly as she kissed me passionately, the weight of her large breasts against my chest.

I'm no expert, but I believe they were natural.  I ran my fingers over her ass as she settled the crack of her damp vagina against the shaft of my cock, sliding it back and forth.

She reached down and took my prick in her hand, lifting it slightly so that the tip pressed against her opening.

"Hang on a minute while I get a condom."  I said.

"I hate those things."  She said, pushing herself down, penetrating herself with my helpless cock.

She said up straight, my penis deep inside her body, and grinned down at me in triumph.

"Don't worry darling, I've just been for a full checkup, and so have you according to Privathi."

"That's true." I admitted.

  "So it's completely safe!" Veronica concluded.

I'd never done it without a condom, not once in my life.  It was the same, but different.

The warm pressure of her body was expected, but there was a new sensation, and extra intimacy. My cock was wet with her fluids, and I was very conscious that if I came inside her, her body would be contaminated by my sperm.

It seemed wrong that my "first time" would be with Veronica instead of Sangeeta.

We rolled over again and I gave it to her in the missionary position.  She was coming within a minute, her long legs wrapping around me as if to squeeze out every last drop of pleasure.

I was conflicted.  The physical pleasure was fantastic, the touch of her flesh, the sight of her, her hot wet vagina squeezing against my cock as she came.

But at the same time I had the feeling that I was making a big mistake.  I loved Sangeeta, and I wanted to keep loving Sangeeta.  I enjoyed it, even the pain of it made me feel more alive than I could ever remember.

Veronica was a sexy stranger, a homewrecker if there ever was one.

But once the cock is in, there's no stopping.  I wanted to come, but I couldn't. I felt too conflicted; I shouldn't be here. In this big soft bed with this big cushioned woman. My cock should not be in her body, and I had no business leaving my seed in her. But I couldn't stop either; once started, there's only one decent way to finish.

So I kept going, the two of us bouncing on the big plush bed.  Veronica came again.

"Let's do it doggy style."  She suggested.

I pulled out while she rolled over and got onto her hands and knees, her round white ass raised invitingly.

I slipped it inside, grabbed her hip bones, and went at it again, my abdomen bouncing off of her wide round rear end.

This position didn't seem to be doing much for either of us, so she pushed backwards.

I sat down and she ended up on top with her back to me.  She turned around, carefully pivoting on my erect pole until I was looking up at her face, framed between the valley of her large breasts and opulent blond hair.

"How about a 69?"  She asked.

"Okay."  I agreed.

She lifted her wet hole from my cock, and turned around.  She settled herself down with her thighs on either side of my face as she carefully positioned her clitoris against my lips.

I wrapped my arms around her slim waist as I felt her mouth surround my cock.

There was something beautiful about being so helpless, so overwhelmed.  I licked and sucked dutifully.

If I could just come I thought, squirt into her mouth, it would be over.  I needed to have a full shower and wash the smell of sex out of my hair before my wedding.

But she came first.  It occurred to me that Veronica was the kind of woman who was used to coming first.  She stopped sucking my cock as she enjoyed her orgasm, then she threw herself onto her back next to me.

"Get on top!"  She cried happily.

I resignedly complied, pushing my cock into her again.

She grabbed my ass and pulled me deep, and then we were twisting and bouncing, sweating and grunting, copulating like animals.

She squeezed and kissed me savagely, as I pounded her hard.

She was coming again, her fourth orgasm.  I had to end it, I couldn't just keep doing this.  What would happen if I had better sex with Veronica than with my bride?

I closed my eyes and held the big blond tightly.  I thought of Sangeeta; I imagined her face, her bright eyes.  I imagined it was her in my arms instead of the spoiled trust fund rich bitch.

And at last, I released myself inside her, my pent up semen blasting into her naked interior.

As the seed exited the end of my cock, the ardor ran out of my head, leaving the shame behind.

The pale body I was tangled with suddenly seemed gross; the woman in my arms was the wrong one.

I wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible, but she was holding me tightly, her hips still moving slightly. She was enjoying the last remnants of my hardon and my dignity.

She took my head in her hands and pulled our mouths together.

I let her kiss me; after what we had just done, it would have been rude to refuse. But I felt terrible, dirty, used, and ashamed.

"Are you finished yet?" a high pitched voice asked from behind me.

I broke away from Veronica and turned my head to see Privathi standing in the bedroom doorway. Behind her was my fiancé, Sangeeta.

It was as if my life was passing before my eyes, I was suddenly terrified. Caught!

Privathi smiled with amusement while Sangeeta looked annoyed.

"You'd better hurry up or we'll be late." She said.

I jumped out of bed and into the bathroom, not bothering to even try to hide my nudity from the women. They had seen my true shame already.

I washed myself thoroughly, but I was sure it was too late. On my wedding day, my fiancé caught me in bed with another woman!

When I came out, Veronica was sitting on the bed in a robe waiting for me.

"Do you still want to get married to her?" she asked me.

"Yes." I said.

"Are you sure? Don't do it out of some sense of duty, Joe. That wouldn't be doing anyone any good. If you think you can be happy together, then go ahead, but for god's sake think carefully. You can stay with me if you want."

"I love her."

"Love. That's a big little word; what's love? Usually, it's a disaster. I married men I loved, and came to hate them. I tell you, darling, you should stay with me; I have means, I can keep you in style. We'd be great together, you could take care of practical things on my properties... Love would develop in time. Sangeeta hasn't got anything, and neither do you. How do you think that will work out? You'll both get aggravated, you'll turn on each other. She's used to an easy life you know."

I looked at the voluptuous Heiress; a few months ago, I would have dreamed of such a woman. What did she see in me though? Well, I guess I was as different to her as she was to me. And she was in that age when a woman has to decide whether she's going to have children or not.

"Thanks, Veronica. I'm flattered for the offer, but I'm still in love with Sangeeta."

"All right then. They're waiting for you downstairs. I'm going to have a shower."

I put my secondhand suit back on and went down to face my shame.

Sangeeta looked stunning in a tight embroidered wedding dress that fitted her curvy body precisely. Her light brown skin and black hair contrasted beautifully with the white gown. She glared at me, her anger only making her more gorgeous.

"Well it's about time." Sangeeta said. "Are you ready?"

I took a deep breath; "Yes... but..."

"Do you still want to get married?" she asked sternly.

"If you do."

"What does that mean?" she demanded.

"If you'll still have me." I said.

She smiled edgily; "I'll have you all right." She muttered grudgingly.

Privathi drove us to city hall In Veronica's Jaguar XJ12. I wasn't sure about Veronica, but it would be easy to love that car.

"So was she fun?" my fiancé asked me. "Everyone says Veronica is a top class tart."

I laughed nervously, remembering how Veronica had said almost the same thing about Sangeeta.

"I know what I did was completely wrong." I offered.

"Forget it." Sangeeta said; "Just don't do it again. I mean, I wasn't completely celibate in the last few months either."

I looked at Privathi through the rear view mirror. She grinned back at me as if it was all a harmless joke.

"Veronica is trying to get pregnant, she's in that age you know." Sangeeta added.

I shuddered, remembering how we'd done it without a condom.

"She thinks the British gentry are all inbred." My fiancé concluded. "She keeps going on about wanting a working class man for the job."

We were married in a small office with Privathi and Sangeeta's old "boyfriend" Harry as witnesses. Then we went back to Veronica's for a small party.

There were about 20 people in Veronica's grand ballroom. A modest little crowd compared to the photos on the walls of previous celebrity filled events there.

My dark bride introduced me to each of them proudly.

There was an old guy, short with huge shoulders. He nearly broke my fingers in his grip when we shook hands, and he had an accent so thick I could barely understand a word he said. I realized it was the truck driver who Sangeeta had come to London with when she let Manchester. Later, I saw him slip upstairs with Veronica [who was 4 inches taller than him]. They didn't come back down.

There was a wrecked looking guy in a fringe leather jacket. My wife's drug dealer ex-boyfriend I figured out. He was friendly enough, I thought he really wished the best for her. I felt sorry for him; sleeping with her for years, in love with her but never being able to do it with her.

There was a distinguished old couple; Lord and Lady someone. I couldn't figure out how they knew Sangeeta, but at least I was sure they weren't ex-lovers.

Later, Sangeeta set me straight on that.

I didn't like Henry, Privathi's boyfriend, at all. He was too tall and snotty, the worst kind of English snob. I could tell he despised me; I was the worst kind of classless American.

It was a bit weird to be in a room with most of my wife's old lovers; I sure wouldn't want to think about inviting all of mine into one place.

And I realized that Privathi was right; I would have been upset and jealous to meet these people on my wedding day if I had been abstaining like a "good" boy. But with the shameful memory of wild sex with the voluptuous Veronica fresh in my mind, it all seemed ok.

Privathi was flying to Thailand to see her family for a few weeks, and we had her Mercedes 2 seat SL500 convertible to use as well as her house in the country. She usually let it out and stayed in London with her boyfriend, but it happened to be vacant just then.

As we were about to leave, Privathi pulled me into a corner.

"This business you want to start, how much more money you need?"

"Sangeeta told you about that? Well, to pay for the auto parts franchise I'll need another fifty thousand dollars. It will take at least another three years for us to save that much, and by then probably someone else will open in the area, so the whole thing might be just a dream."

"Dollars? Oh good, I thought she said Pounds."

She handed me a thick envelope.

"Check from Harry, twenty thousand pounds. Cash from Jeremy, forty thousand euros. In Asia it is tradition, a girl shouldn't go to her new family empty handed. Of course, normally biological daddy pays, not sugar daddy! Haha!"

She stopped laughing and became momentarily serious. "Don't be too proud to take this. It's only what they owe her, and now she can be your equal partner."

There was a limo for the hour drive out to Privathi's house in Oxford. At last, I had Sangeeta to myself.

She cuddled up with me in the back seat. It was odd for me to be the passenger instead of the driver for once. It was a stretch Mercedes, much smaller than the Cadillacs we used at home. It was a nice car though, almost as quiet as the caddy.

I stroked back her lovely hair and kissed her, holding her sexy body close.

"I love you." I told her.

"I love you too." She said.

"You're a bit drunk, are you sure you won't take it back tomorrow?"

"Ask me tomorrow, how should I know? I'm a little drunk." She laughed, finding my cock through my trousers with her hand.

"I'm sorry about this morning."  I said.

"It's all right."  She said, "It was what I wanted."

"Why?"

"I haven't been with a man for over a month, since you proposed." She said. "But before that, I... I wanted to get you out of my head."

It was nearly four months since she had left me in America.

"You weren't only with Harry?"

"Harry, Henry, Lord Chamberlain, Lady Chamberlain."

"Lady Chamberlain?"

"It was just for a laugh" she said, unzipping my trousers and fishing out my stiff organ. "I told you once that love is something I have trouble with.  I was a little bit in love with Harry, and I guess I stayed with you for a while to get over him.  But then I fell in love with you; don't take this the wrong way Joey, but I didn't think of you as the right one for me."

"Why not?"

"Well come on, you live with your parents and work in a garage."  She said; "I had a great time with you all, but it was never how I imagined myself.  Since I was 16, I told myself I would marry a rich man."

She stroked my cock sensuously as she continued.

"I went with other men, but all I could think of was you."  She said, "I stayed in big posh houses with servants and all, but I kept thinking of your dad's grotty little house, how we used to barbecue hamburgers in your backyard.  And I realized that I'd been happy there.  I haven't been happy a lot in my life, Joey."

As the limousine sped through the countryside, my new wife dropped her head into my lap and began to suck my cock.

She sucked my cock in a way I'd never known before, although I suppose it was no different in reality to other blow jobs I'd had.

She sucked my cock as though it was the only cock on earth, as though she had never wanted any other penis, or wanted to please any other man but me.  I held her body in one hand, and ran the fingers of the other through her hair.  It was sad to hear her story, but beautiful.  She moved up and kissed me as she pulled on my cock with her hand. After a while, she fumbled around under her white wedding dress and pulled her undies off; she straddled me, sliding herself down over my stiff penis.

The Mercedes sped though the dark night as we made love in the back seat. It was weird to think this woman was my wife; mistress, pornstar, and virtual orphan. So beautiful, so sexy, yet tainted.

I've never had that "ride in a limo" fantasy. To me, a Limo is just a big car. I've serviced and driven them for work.

But my new bride riding my dick in her white dress in the back seat was pretty good;

I held her hips and looked into her eyes as the lights of a car behind us lit her face. My wife... Sangeeta... I couldn't get over it. It was terrifying and euphoric. So beautiful, so hot. All those men she'd dad, the places she'd been, the things she knew, yet she had chosen me; to live my basic but honest life, with my poor but hard working family. My family who accepted her as one of us, who didn't judge her harshly for who and what she was.

It was pretty uncomfortable in the Mercedes, the teeth of my zipper pinched my cock a little, but it was about the greatest sex of my life. Because it meant more than sex, even more than love; I came into her, fired my fluid into her heaving body, and sealed our deal. It was a new world for me, the same yet different. I was not just myself, I was now part of an alliance, a couple, a marriage. Terrifying, yet filling me with an optimism I'd never had before.

As my bride stopped moving, so did the car.

"If you're done back there, we arrived about ten minutes ago." The driver said.

.

Our first night as a married couple was spent sleeping together, not having sex.  We were both too exhausted.

I wasn't really crazy to fuck her; I just wanted to look at her for a while. Study her lovely face, tell her jokes to make her smile, maybe stroke her silky brown skin.

Of course in reality, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. 

I've written a lot of words about sex with Sangeeta, so I won't repeat myself describing all the things we did. There wasn't anything we hadn't done before.

Yet it was different; the same actions, the same sensations, yet with new emotions added on top. Fear, Love, Anticipation.

We had taken the plunge, said our vows [for what they're worth these days]. We were committed to each other, and that made the clench of her vagina around my cock twice as intense, her eyes even brighter, her smile even more irresistible, my ejaculation more passionate.

I stroked her, massaged her, brushed her hair, licked her vagina.  We did it on the bed, the sofa, the chairs, the kitchen table, and in the bath.

We took drives through the countryside, we stopped and did it in a field.

And with each orgasm we shared, we loved each other more.  And as our love grew, we got even more horny.

It was great to have that time alone with her, just to hang out and talk; to sit and look at her, to smell her scent, to imprint her image into my mind.

We didn't have a fancy hotel or a Caribbean island, but we had one hot honeymoon in our borrowed cottage.

We had a few days left before heading home, when Privathi dropped by.

She was upset by something, and I half listened as she spilled her heart out to Sangeeta.

"I have a difficult relationship with my family.

They are ashamed of me, I'm a disgrace to them because when I was young I ran off with an older foreign man.

And at 34, I am still unmarried and have no children. Never mind my Phd from Oxford university or my successful career.

Henry met me at the airport when I got back from Thailand, he was very sweet to me the way he can be sometimes.

I love him when he's like that; he cooks for me and treats me well.

But the next day, yesterday, he made me so angry, I want to just leave him!

Then I remember that he has never given me a single gift in the years we've lived together, never said he loves me, never made any commitment at all.

Henry was there for me when Gary left me; I was very distressed then.

He's a good looking man and good in bed, but I think perhaps I only stay with him now because I'm afraid to be alone."

"What did he do to upset you?" Sangeeta asked.

"He invited his friend Oscar over, and made me suck him off. He knows I hate that man, I find him disgusting."

"What do you mean he made you?"

"Well... I suppose I could have refused. But Henry... I have to be like that with him. He has to be the boss when we're together. I don't know why, it's just the way we've always been. I have to do what he says or I have to leave him.

The thing is, I usually enjoy myself. I never expect to, but then I do. And Henry likes to watch, it makes him feel powerful. Perhaps he has some complex; he inherited all his money, he has almost no academic education like I do.

I had an urge to say no, but habit won out. Hesitantly, I got on my knees and took out Oscar's penis.

I was very angry, angry at the men, but more at myself. Why was I allowing them to humiliate me this way? At my work I am respected, I am a research manager, highly educated people follow my instructions.

And here I was, on my knees, in utter humiliation, pleasuring a man I dislike.

I know how to please a man, how to make it last. But I wanted to make Oscar come quickly.

His cock was hot and hard in my mouth, there was something erotic about it; the very degradation was arousing, the loathing made it dirty yet oddly exciting. Somehow, on some level, I must want to be humiliated; otherwise, I wouldn't have done it.

I was brought up to believe that pride was a terrible thing for a woman to enjoy. 

Oscar is hugely fat, his gut was quivering as I worked.  I stroked his balls and sucked his big cock, but I couldn't make him come.

Henry told me if I didn't, then I would have to have intercourse with him, so I did everything I could.

After a few minutes, Henry said I should stop and take my clothes off.

I was appalled, but at that moment, I couldn't find the courage to refuse. I was accustomed to doing as he said, and he was accustomed to my obedience.  A thousand times I have sworn to myself that next time, I wouldn't comply.  But here I was again, degrading myself.

The fat man undressed and lay on his back on the sofa. I climbed on top.

I hadn't had sex for several weeks, and I was surprised by the feeling as I penetrated myself with his organ. It was oddly satisfying; I looked at Henry, enjoying his pain as much as he enjoyed it himself.

I bounced up and down on Oscar's cock; it wasn't working very well for either of us, but I didn't want him on top of me. I looked at Henry as I had intercourse with his fat friend.

Henry is tall, rich, and handsome; a man who has a wide choice of women.  Yes, I could defy him; but I knew that if I did I would be alone.

And that was one thing that terrified me.

I don't hate Oscar because he was fat, but because of his personality.  He always comes over to Henry's house to brag about clever stock trades he's made, how he has such good connections in this city who gave him insider tips.  Henry was always trying to get Oscar to put money into some big American hedge fund for him.

His face is puffy and his teeth yellow.  He smells bad. He's always treated me as if I were a whore, and now I was proving him right.

I hated myself then; I hated what I'd become, the way I was letting these men use me for their amusement, as if I had no value at all.

He heaved his bulk up from the sofa, lifting my small body as if I were nothing.  His big hands went under my ass as he stood up, and I had to wrap my arms and legs around him as his cock was still in my body.

He lifted me up and down; I hadn't realized that he was so strong.  In this position, I couldn't avoid looking at his face.  I couldn't avoid his kiss.

He turned around and leaned forward, dropping me onto the sofa.  He stooped down and grabbed my ankles, lifting them up into the air, lifting my bottom from the cushions.

His penis had slipped out of me, but he maneuvered its back into position and pushed it inside again.

Helpless on my back, I stared up at him as he took his pleasure.  He shifted his grip, so my knees were hooked over his elbows.  He was sweating now, his blubbery body quivering and flopping and he hammered me.

I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight.  It was better that way; his firm grip on my thighs and his hard penis pushing into me again and again didn't feel bad.

Suddenly, he dropped me; he moved forward, kneeling on the couch above me, he grabbed my hair with one hand and his cock with the other.  I tried to resist, but if he noticed then he didn't respect my refusal.  He jammed his sticky penis into my mouth and came.

I was surprised to find he tasted all right.  I looked up into his eyes as I swallowed it, and I realized that he hates me as much as I hate him.

He stepped back, releasing me. Henry sat down on the sofa next to me and pulled my face into his lap as his friend dressed.  He came immediately, flooding my mouth with his sperm.

Both men laughed, then went into the other room to watch football.

I sat there alone, cold and with a sour taste in my mouth. I realized something suddenly; that Henry is an idiot.

I've been quietly investing my savings in things I know about, Pharmaceuticals mainly, since I read their reports and journals as part of my work. Henry chases rumors. We never discuss money, but I'm actually doing very well with my investments. I deserve respect for who I am and what I've achieved!

Meanwhile, Henry has invested everything he has into that American hedge fund, with his fat friend. Madoff  or some such thing.

I must leave him, I know I must, yet I'm afraid. I know I shouldn't be, but that's the truth."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What do you think Joey? Sangeeta asked me.

"He wants to see how far he can push you before you leave him."  I said to Privathi.

"Really?"  She asked. "But I do everything for him."

"Listen to me."  I told her sincerely, taking her small hand and looking into her pretty face. "You are a stunning, beautiful, sexy young woman.  You're smart, successful, financially independent.  This guy can't handle it.  The only accomplishment he seems to have is being born in the right place.

You deserve to be with someone who loves you."

My wife smiled; "Joey is spot on." She said. "We both love you, don't we Joey? If it weren't for you, we would never have gotten back together."

Privathi smiled for the first time that evening. "Thank you."  She said.

Sangeeta put an arm around our friend and pulled her tight.

"Tonight you sleep with us." Sangeeta concluded.

"Really?" Privathi asked, as though it would be a great privilege.

"Really." My new wife said with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Privathi lay in our- well actually it was her own bed, in her underwear as Sangeeta and I massaged her fine body.

Her skin was buttermilk in color, smooth and unblemished. Her shoulders were narrow and her limbs thin, as if she had never quite finished growing. If you didn't know her, you'd think she was about 14 years old instead of 34.

She sighed as we caressed her, as if our affection was the nourishment she'd been missing, as if our love was being absorbed through her smooth pale skin.

Sangeeta pulled at our friend's panties. In response, Privathi lifted her hips as they came off.

She had the trimmest ass I've ever seen in my life [on an adult]. She lay still as I ran my fingertips over the tight round cheeks.

Sangeeta tossed her hair to one side and began to bite Privathi's ass. I joined in, as our petite friend giggled and squirmed.

Sangeeta rolled Privathi over, and I put my face between her thighs to have a taste as my wife took her head in her hands and kissed her mouth tenderly.

It angered me to think that this good woman had been treated so inconsiderately. I licked her clitoris thinking only of her pleasure, hoping I might make her feel just how much Sangeeta and I appreciated her friendship.

This went on for quite a while, before I felt those skinny legs tighten around me. Her little fingers gripped my hair, pulling my mouth tighter; I licked frantically, holding her hipbones in my hands as she bucked.

Privathi cried loudly as she came, and although we had all been around, it was something special.

I came up for air to find both women smiling at me.

"Go wash your face." Sangeeta suggested as she took my place.

I came back into the room and took my clothes off before getting back into bed. I slipped an arm under the Thai woman's head and unhooked her bra.

She had small pert breasts, with oversized nipples that looked as if they were made with a purpose in mind. I caressed them and kissed her mouth as Sangeeta worked her crotch. I looked into her dark slanted eyes, and for that moment, I loved her.

How could anyone not love and respect this woman, I wondered? She was so generous, so beautiful, smart and successful. It seemed to me that she was being seriously short changed.

There was a hand on my cock, another on my balls. Sangeeta sat up, and waved me into the empty valley.

I kneeled between Privathi's thin thighs, setting my stiff dick where we all wanted it. I looked into her dark slanted eyes as I gently pushed it in.

I entered easily, yet she was a tight fit. Tight and wet and deliciously warm inside.

We fucked slowly at first, savoring the incredible sweetness on those first minutes being coupled for the first time together. I felt huge and powerful, she was a precious waif in my arms, she was helpless, small, vulnerable.

My cock slid in and out of her; ruling her little body, dominating her tight vagina.

She began to whimper again, and I knew she was going to come. I wasn't sure I could hold out; I couldn't look at her face, I knew if I did I'd be unable stop myself from blowing.

Suddenly, a cool hand was thrust between my thighs from behind, and my wife was holding my primed balls. I knew it was all over; I looked my lover deep in the eyes and kissed her hard on the mouth as the two of us came together in an orgasm that shook the stone cottage right to the foundations.

The small woman was silent and still below me for a minute as we both regained our other senses. I pulled out, and then... it was the damnedest thing. Sangeeta started licking her out again.

My wife licked and sucked, pulling my seed back out of Privathi and eating it. I didn't know whether to be turned on or disgusted, and in fact I was both at once.

After that, the two women began to suck my cock. Both of them at once!

Two exotic Asian beauties, the scientist and the party girl. So similar, yet actually they were complete opposites.

I took one gleaming black head of hair in each hand as they shared my cock and balls between each other, and at that moment, I was superman.

Anyone would be lucky to have the love and attention of either one of them, and I had them both at once! My cock was like a steel rod, yet my balls were empty. It was a feeling of power, energy and strength. I was ready to fuck the shit out of them both!

I had no control issues after that first orgasm. I fucked my wife as I kissed Privathi. I fucked Privathi again as Sangeeta sat on her face. We did it doggy style as the woman lay on top of each other, face to face. I pulled out of one and pushed into the other, then changed back again.

They came; Sangeeta came as I did it to her and Privathi held her tight. Privathi came as she lay on top of my wife with her head between the Indian woman's firm breasts, Sangeeta holding her face as I fucked her.

And finally, late in the long incredible night, I came again, in Privathi's mouth.

It was something that could happen just once in a lifetime I guess. The next day Sangeeta and I left for America.

We opened an auto parts supply, my long time plan now possible thanks to the money Privathi had secured for us. Business has been growing fast, but Sangeeta wants us to keep living in my dad's house; she's still nuts about my sister's baby, and she likes the family life.

Privathi got back together with an old boyfriend and got pregnant. She says she's very happy. He has no money, she's made a house-husband out of him.

We're going to visit next summer. I wonder if anything will happen?

Ace 2009

Send any and all comments to; storyace@hotmail.com   I need response to keep writing!

 Appendix; Sangeeta and the lord

email response to; storyace@hotmail.com

It's all I'll get for my work.