This story is a work of fiction. The characters depicted within have
no resemblance to anyone dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely
coincidental. The author does not subscribe to the acts depicted
within this work, they are for purely reading pleasure only. It is
strongly advised that readers take all necessary precautions for the
safety of all players if they choose to act out the play of this
story.

This is a work of erotic fiction. If the reader is turned off or
offended by such material, it is advised that they don't read any
further.
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The Visitor

She stood hesitantly. The man in the chair had his eyes riveted to
her. She reached behind her left shoulder and undid the safety pin
that kept the pallu of her saree in place. She locked the pin back
into its safety position and walked up to her dressing table and put
it in its right place. She faced the mirror as she dropped her pallu
and then unwound her saree.

An erotic thrill now replaced the fear that she had felt when the
whole thing had started.

She watched him in the mirror; his eyes were glued to her body, his
gaze devouring her.

She reached for the buttons on her front of her blouse and undid them.
Then she peeled her blouse off her. He was adjusting his penis now as
he watched her. She hoped he would stay true to his word that there
would be no sex.

She reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra. Usually
she would have pulled her hands through the strap and turned the bra
around so that she could undo the clasp in front of her. But she knew
that this looked much more sexier and hence undid the clasp behind
her. She was surprised at how turned on she was by his voyeurism. His
gaze was not locked on her breasts. She casually kneaded them, as if
getting the blood flow going.

Next, she undid her skirt's knot. It required her just to pull one end
of the knot to undo it completely. Instead, she half pivoted her upped
body to her left, bent her head towards the knot, and fumbled at the
knots undoing them slowly. He had his penis out though his zipper hole
and was massaging it. Their eyes met, but for an instant, she averted
her gaze.

She let the skirt fall crumpled at her feet and stepped out of it.
Then she slid her panties down and became naked. She turned to face
him, and stood with her hands on her hips and legs spread a trifle
wide. She reached between her legs and let one finger slide into her
vagina. Their eyes met, this time she did not break the gaze. Her
fingers began rubbing her clit and her juices began to flow.

She closed her eyes and sat back on the stool. He could not get a full
view of her pink cunt. Her juices had flown over and her cunt lips
glistened. She now had three fingers ramming into her cunt. The
fingers of her left hand pinched the area just above her cunt. Her
breathing was hard now, her lips parted, her tongue repeatedly running
over the lips, wetting them. She wondered how he was controlling
himself from fucking her. She knew that in the state she was in she
wouldn't stop him.

Then all the thoughts raced out of her mind, her mind was emptied of
all thought – rational and otherwise. She mewed and grunted her
orgasm. It was the best she ever had, it kept going on and on and on.
She gave up trying to control it with her fingers and squeezed her
thighs together, squiriming in her seat to get a hold on the explosive
feelings coursing through her body. She slid off the seat and lay on
the floor writhing in ecstacy. She gave up attempts at being quiet and
screamed as wave after wave of orgasms hit her. It was the most
violent orgasm that she had ever experienced.

Then it was over.

When she returned to her senses, she was lying on the floor, on her
stomach and her body felt like a heavyweight boxer had battered it.
She supported herself on her palms and dragged herself upright. She
turned and rested her back on the wall. The man still sat there in his
seat, toying with his now enlarged organ. Her breath was still heavy
and she waited for the rapid beats of her heart to quieten down.

"Should I bathe now?" she asked softly.

He nodded.

She got to her feet and went into the bathroom. She heard him stand up
and drag his chair to the bathroom door. She turned on the shower and
let the blast of cold water hit her straight in the face. She waited
with her eyes closed as the water coursed over her body, enveloping it
in wetness. Then she reached up, gathered her disordered hair, and
bunched it behind her head. She ran her hands over her body, feeling
it in new light. It was as if someone else was touching her. She
turned her back to the shower, facing him, letting the water hit her
back. Her hands reached between her legs and her fingers found their
way into her cunt yet again. She played with herself for a while
before turning to the shower once again.

She reached for the bar of soap at her left and turned the shower to
low power. She ran the soap along her body, lathering it and
enveloping herself in a coat of soap. She lathered herself longer than
she would normally do before turning on the shower and washing the
soap away. It took her five more minutes to finish her bath.

As she began to dry herself, his palm pumped his penis hard and fast.
With a groan he shot his load at the doorstep of her bathroom. He kept
pumping till it was over. Then he stood up and walked away. She heard
the door in the living room close behind him.

The tension eased out of her body, she felt her knees give and she
fell to the floor – tired.

When the shivering stopped, she stood up and taking a cup of water
washed his cum towards the drain. Then she dried herself and went out
to her bedroom. She picked up her phone and dialed her best friend.

"Sindhu, you won't believe what just happened. There was a knock on my
door. I opened it and there was a man standing there – with a gun
pointing at me. He was well dressed and spoke very nicely. He said
that he didn't want to harm me, just wanted to watch me undress,
masturbate and bathe…

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