Losing Control – Part 1

Legs spread onto the chair as Amisha lets her fiance, Sameer, take control of her body. He shoves his face between her legs, running his tongue around the hem of her panties that barely contain her wetness. She moans and shudders at every flick and lick of his tongue.

Her hands flap around, searching for something to squeeze between her palms till her body can get accustomed to the pleasure surging inside her. Head tilted back and nipples piercing through her sundress, she lay on the chair in her room at his mercy.

Sameer forgets about everything else. No thought enters his mind. He even, for a fleeting second, forgets about the quickie and makes her cum at her request. She shivers on his tongue, suppressing her moans and arching her back.

He slides her panties aside and shoves his tongue right in her. She looks at him, though not visible. She imagines his tongue and how it is churning up her insides. The tip scratches away at the top of her wet walls. And how he is gulping down her wetness that flows like a stream at his mouth.

The visual almost pushes her off the edge. Her body craves that orgasm, waiting for her legs to shiver and her screams to get muffled. Her pussy tightens around his tongue. Sameer smiles, an evil grin, as he pushes forward. His tongue is now deeper than her fingers were ever in her, his teeth grinding against the clit.

The pleasure is too much for her mind to bear. She arches her back with a loud, muffled scream. Her legs shiver as she cums all over his face. Sameer takes it like a champ, the flush of her cum that oozes out of her cunt.

The squeeze of her thighs as she arches her back. It suffocates him till she is done with her orgasm. He loves all of it. She falls back on the chair, panting and gasping as her chest heaves up and down.

Sameer gets up and looks at her with a messy face as she greets back with a smile of approval. He smiles back, satisfied and then goes to the washroom to clean up.

She lays there tired and composing herself, looking up at particularly nothing and wondering how good of a catch she got. It was an arranged marriage setup. She was sceptical at first. They went on a few dates together.

They both were acting innocent despite hiding the dirtiest version of themselves inside. Once they met at a club, a few drinks brought about the honesty in them. Since then, all they have been doing is to fuck at any possible spot that gave them some bit of privacy.

Even now, he came over to talk to her parents. Being a nymphomaniac, she took him to her room and bent his head down as she propped her legs on a chair. He did his job well, better than anyone she ever met.

Better than everyone except for one who had just bombarded her phone with his messages. She picked up the phone with his name being the last thing that she expected to pop up on her phone.

Rahul: Hey, how have you been?

This bastard! He never messages to know about my well-being. Amisha ponders in her mind as she types up a reply.

Amisha: What do you want? I thought we ended it for good.

Rahul: Hey, can an ex not message to know about your well-being?

Amisha: They can, but you won’t. Tell me what it is that you want.

Rahul: Haha, you are always straight to the point. Tomorrow at 10 AM, my place

Amisha: Are you fucking crazy or something? The day after tomorrow is my marriage, and you expect me to come to your bed.

Rahul: You’re being tied away for good. I wanted to experience you one…last…time. I hope you didn’t forget how good our sex was

The memories flooded in her mind when they used to fuck like rabbits. They used to fuck everywhere and anywhere. He knew all the right places to touch, to kiss and to finger her. At one point, she became his doll.

He used to playfully make her cum, edge her and then break her down till she had no power over him. She almost lost herself to him. Her best friend intervened and helped her realise his power over her. She broke up with him.

He never contacted her up until now. He had the guts that she had to give it to him. It took guts to message a would-be bride and ask her for a hookup. A part of her wanted that forbidden sex before she got tied away for good. Sameer was good in his own right, but Rahul played with her mind like no other.

Rahul: Be on time, sweet cheeks

Fuck, he had to say it. It gave her a glimpse of the time when she wore an apron and nothing else in his apartment. She lost a bet with him and was his sex maid for a weekend. He used to spank her naked ass and call her ‘sweet cheeks.’

Every time he called her that, she was lying down on his bed. Her tits pressed against the silky bedsheet, and her back was covered with his cum. He spanked it and said, “You were awesome, sweet cheeks.” Fuck, the same image flooded her mind.

She almost…almost gave in for a second when Sameer opened the door. She came back to her senses, back to reality. She kissed him, cleaned up, and they talked about the big day for a while, and later he left.

She picked up the phone and checked her messages. There were no new ones. She stared at it as her good and bad side fought it out in her mind, finally concluding.

I will go to him tomorrow and tell him that I am not interested anymore.

A stupid decision.

The next day, she dressed up in something orthodox, a basic kurta that’s not even tight to show off her curves. She messaged Sameer that she wanted to go to a friend’s place. She planned that if he were with her, waiting in the car, she wouldn’t do anything risky.

She made up this story of meeting this one friend who was not that close to her so that he’d not insist much on coming up along with her. He parked the car and she went up to his place as Sameer stayed behind in the car. Walking up to his door felt familiar, nostalgic and a bit of a turn-on.

She came to his door and then knocked on it in the same spot and in the same way that she did all those times.

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