Hello, readers. I hope you are all doing well and having a great time with your loved ones, your fantasies, and fully satisfying your cravings. 🙂
This is Akhil, back with another real story. I was away from ISS for quite a long time. Though I used to read stories here occasionally, I didn’t get the time to share my own experiences.
So, here I am, sharing another one. If you like it and would like to share your feedback or get in touch, you can email me at: [email protected]
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It began, like so many modern stories do, on a matrimony site.
Her name was Aisha.
Short. Chubby in a way that looked soft, warm, and real. She had fair skin, long straight hair, and a smile that felt almost too genuine for a profile photo. Her bio was simple: “Love reading, music, and long drives. Looking for someone emotionally mature.”
I sent a request without thinking too much. She accepted a few hours later.
Our first few chats were polite and cautious – the usual “Where do you work?”, “What are you looking for?”, “How’s your family?”.
She was easy to talk to: sharp, funny, and a little bit stubborn in an endearing way. Over time, however, we realized we weren’t exactly looking for the same things. I wanted something slow and organic; she wanted a clear direction and a timeline.
After a few days of back and forth, we agreed to stop talking. It ended quietly – no hard feelings, just a polite goodbye.
Three months later, on a random Thursday evening, her name popped up on my phone again.
Aisha: “Hey… long time… 🙂”
I remember smiling at the screen. I replied casually, “Hey! Yeah, it’s been ages. How have you been?”
What started as a casual exchange soon turned into longer chats. She told me she hadn’t found anyone yet.
“Honestly, I’ve lost interest,” she said once. “I’m tired of profiles and small talk. Everyone’s just… performing.”
There was something different about her tone this time – more relaxed, more real. We began talking late into the night about work stress, loneliness, and those moments when you come home after a long day to an empty apartment.
Then, one night, the conversation shifted. It started innocently. She asked, “Did you ever have a serious relationship before?”
I hesitated but said ‘yes.’ One long relationship that had ended years ago.
She asked more, and I asked back.
Soon, the talks became more personal – the kind where you’re not sure when friendship turns into intimacy. We spoke about love, attraction, physical chemistry, heartbreaks, and the things we liked and disliked in relationships. It wasn’t dirty or explicit – just honest. There was a quiet vulnerability in the way she described her past, as if she’d built walls but secretly wanted someone to see through them.
Sometimes she’d send a selfie – messy hair, a half-smile, eyes that looked tired but kind. I found myself looking forward to them.
A few weeks later, she said, “We should meet sometime. Just as friends. Drinks, maybe?”
We picked a Saturday evening and met at a cozy pub in Indiranagar.
I still remember the moment she walked in. Black jeans, a soft pink top, and her hair open. She looked exactly like her pictures – maybe even better. She smiled that familiar smile, and for a second, it felt like we’d known each other for years.
The night was easy. We talked, we laughed, we teased. She loved old Bollywood music; I loved classic rock, and we ended up debating which genre had better heartbreak songs. The drinks kept coming, and with every sip, the conversation grew warmer and looser.
At some point, the DJ switched to something upbeat, and she grabbed my hand.
“Come on… You can’t just sit there,” she said.
We danced. Or, at least, we tried. I wasn’t much of a dancer, but she didn’t care. She moved with a carefree joy; her hair flying, her laughter echoing. For a moment, the crowd blurred into the background; it was just us, spinning under the lights.
By the time the night ended, she was tipsy, leaning lightly on my shoulder as we walked out.
“I’ll drop you,” I said.
She didn’t protest.
The drive was quiet, the city lights flickering across her face. She looked out the window most of the time, occasionally humming a tune. Outside her apartment, she turned and said softly, “You really are a gentleman, you know?”
Before I could reply, she smiled, waved, and disappeared behind the gate.
The next morning, my phone buzzed.
Aisha: “Thanks for last night. Had so much fun. You’re… different.”
Me: “Different good or different weird?”
Aisha: “Good. Gentle. Rare.”
We kept talking that weekend. She admitted she’d been thinking about me – that she liked how easy it felt around me, how there was no judgment or expectations. Then, almost casually, she said something that surprised me.
Aisha: “I don’t want a relationship right now. But… I don’t want to feel alone either. You know what I mean?”
Me: “Maybe. What are you saying exactly?”
Aisha: “Something like… friends with benefits? Only if you’re okay with it.”
I didn’t reply immediately. It wasn’t a casual question. It was one of those things that could change everything.
She continued, “No pressure. I just feel… comfortable with you. Safe.”
There was something so honest about her message – not flirtatious, not manipulative, just simple and direct. Then she shared a picture of herself on WhatsApp. It wasn’t revealing, but it was hot.
After a long pause, I replied, “Let’s meet again. We’ll talk.”
We met the next Friday evening, this time at a quieter café near Koramangala. The mood was different – softer, more aware. We both knew there was a question hanging in the air.
“I hope I didn’t make things weird,” she said, stirring her coffee.
“You didn’t,” I replied. “I was just surprised.”
“I just want honesty,” she said. “I don’t want to play games. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks. Right now, I want connection – but not complications.”
I looked at her, really looked at her. The way she held her cup, the way her hair fell across her cheek, the sincerity in her eyes.
It wasn’t just an attraction. It was something deeper – a quiet pull between two people who understood each other’s loneliness.
That evening, we didn’t talk about it much more. We just sat, walked around, and shared an ice cream. When I dropped her home again, she lingered for a moment by the car door.
“I’m glad we met again,” she said softly.
“So am I.”
The days that followed turned into something beautiful – constant chats, long drives around the city, and late-night calls where we said nothing important but everything that mattered. Our chats also became more frequent and slowly turned sexual.
Once, she shared a picture of herself in a sexy dress, showing her cleavage, and it blew me away. I got an instant hard-on, and I won’t lie – I masturbated to that picture. The urge to see more of her grew, and although I was cautious, I started asking her to share more pics.
She did. We had seen each other completely naked, from top to bottom, in pictures and on video calls.
This continued for almost a month. We met three or four times in between, sometimes at a café, sometimes for lunch, but we hadn’t gone beyond a kiss.
One fine Friday, I was in the office when a message popped up on my phone. It was from her. She said she was very bored and that her flatmates were going out of town for the long weekend. She invited me over for dinner. I had been waiting for such a moment, so I said yes. She replied with a winking emoji. 😉
That evening, I reached her home with a bouquet of flowers, some chocolates, and a bottle of whiskey. We both loved single malt.
She opened the door, and when I saw her, I felt a surge of happiness deep inside. She had just taken a bath; her hair was wet, and water droplets glistened on her shoulder and face. We hugged, and there was a different smile on both of our faces. Tonight was going to be special. 😉
I helped her in the kitchen, and we sat on the couch for dinner. “Fifty Shades of Grey” was playing on Netflix. Slowly, the heat built up, and the tension grew. I looked at her; she was gorgeous.
I slowly placed my hand on hers and started rubbing it. She sighed a little and came closer. I hugged her, and a few seconds later, she turned her face and locked her lips with mine. I was speechless. We were kissing like hungry souls.
Her lips were juicy, and her saliva tasted sweet. After about fifteen minutes, she whispered in my ear, “Feel free.”
I understood and slid my hands inside her top, rubbing her back. I wanted to feel her ass, and when I tried to move my hands down, she lifted herself slightly to give me access.
I was in another world. After caressing her back for a while, I moved to her breasts. They were big – actually, quite big and very soft. I was rubbing and squeezing them in no time.
We continued our foreplay – kissing, rubbing, licking – for almost half an hour. Then, at one point, she asked me to stand up. As soon as I did, she pulled down my pants and my briefs in one swift motion. I was amazed and surprised.
In an instant, my rock-hard dick was in her mouth, slick with her saliva. I was enjoying every second of it, moaning and holding her hair. At one point, I started fucking her mouth. She began to gag and then pulled it out.
Now, it was my turn, and I was eagerly waiting. I laid her down on the couch, removed her shorts and panties, and started sniffing her like a dog 😛. She was in ecstasy.
I was teasing her when she suddenly pushed my head toward her vagina and shouted, “Lick it!”
I did the honors, licking her and inserting my tongue inside her vaginal opening. She started moaning, begging me to continue. I was enjoying her taste while my hands groped her large breasts.
I was very hard and wanted to continue the foreplay, but she shouted for me to go inside her immediately. I wanted to tease her, but seeing the look on her face, I didn’t waste any time.
I placed my dick at her entrance and, with a single thrust, went inside. She cried out at first, but then started jerking her ass up and down, giving me the rhythm to pump her.
As I fucked her and sucked her boobs, she was in another world.
“Fucker, where have you been?” She said. “Why didn’t you take my hint and waste the last month? You’re not going anywhere until Monday. You’re just going to be with me.”
I replied, “Yes, ma’am! Your wish is my command.” 🙂
We fucked for almost an hour. I came twice – once in her mouth and the second time on her boobs. It was the best sex I’d had in the last two or three years. During this time, she orgasmed three times, and we made a mess of her sofa with her juices. 😛
Our sex spree continued throughout the night and for the next three days. We did it in many different positions and in every corner of the house. She also licked my ass like it was chocolate, and we had anal sex too. More on the next three days in the next part.
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I hope you enjoyed reading. Please share your valuable feedback.
If you would genuinely like to connect with me (online only or in person), do write to me at [email protected]
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