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I took a cab to my paying guest accommodation at Warden Road. My landlady was an old Parsi widow who lived in a spacious apartment. I had rented a furnished sea-facing room with an attached toilet in her apartment. My landlady was a lively, energetic person and took a keen maternal interest in me. She insisted upon my having breakfast with her every morning. She took in my bedraggled appearance with a cocked eyebrow. I didn’t pause to give her an explanation and rushed into my room. I quickly stripped and had a long, luxurious shower. I soaped my body vigorously, paying close attention to my crotch. I pulled back the foreskin and thoroughly cleaned up the crown of my cock. The soap stung a bit. I peered closely but didn’t find any cut or bruise, although the crown was inflamed and red due to all the rough rubbing it had experienced against Swati’s pussy, mouth, throat and possibly her teeth. I looked at the watch. It was around six o’clock in the evening. I decided to take a short nap before going to the mehendi ceremony. When I woke up with a start, it was almost eight o’clock in the evening. I cursed myself for having overslept and hoped that I would be able to reach the party before it ended. I quickly freshened up and changed into a churidar-kurta outfit. By the time I took a cab and reached the venue, it was forty five minutes past eight PM.
Swati’s friend Priyanka was the daughter of a wealthy industrialist. Her wedding was being celebrated in style. For the convenience of wedding guests, her father had booked an entire floor in a luxury hotel in downtown Mumbai. A medium sized convention hall had been reserved for the mehendi ceremony. The actual wedding was going to happen the next day, under a large shamiana (colorful temporary canvas roof) in the hotel’s open courtyard. I need not have worried about reaching late. The convention hall was well decorated, brightly lit, noisy and overflowing with guests. Females of all shapes and sizes in glittering attire overran the place. They outnumbered males three to one. After all the mehendi ceremony was primarily a women’s function. Perhaps half of the ladies were young belles, well made up professional women artists who specialized in drawing intricate my eyes searched Swati. I finally spotted her in a knot of girls milling around what turned bahçeşehir escort out to be the bride-to-be, Priyanka. I sauntered towards the crowd and eventually caught Swati’s eye. She beamed in response, disentangled herself from the crowd and came towards me.
I was stunned. Never had I seen her so provocatively dressed. She wore a pink silk ghagra-choli (long loose skirt teamed with a brief, tight fitting blouse) outfit. It glittered with mirrors the rounded neck was just deep enough to reveal the top of her bosom. A narrow yoke ran down to the navel, leaving the sides of her waist bare. Since the choli was backless, a bra couldn’t be worn; instead it had built-in cups. They were perhaps a size too small for her ample breasts. The gauzy cream colored chunni wrapped around her shoulders did nothing to conceal her creamy, bare back and the tops of her full breasts swelling out at the neck. She wore a long necklace with a diamond pendant that drew attention to the cleavage between her breasts. The loose ghagra was tied well below her navel and flowed downwards, the hem almost sweeping the floor. Her slim waist accentuated her flaring hips and generously proportioned bust. She was wearing at least three inch heels. The high heels caused her pelvis to thrust out provocatively. Her eyes were outlined with eyeliner and she wore a pink lipstick matching the color of her clothes. She wore long dangling ear rings. A dash of sindoor in the parting of her hair indicated her married status. Her hair was worn in a high chignon and fragrant white mogra flowers were strung around it. Unconstrained by a bra, her full breasts swayed fluidly as she moved. She oozed sensuality she too held her hands out, waiting for the henna to dry. My cock stirred to life as I looked at her.
“Oh Swati! You… you look…” I stammered.
“Sameer, there you are! Why are you so late?” She cut me off. She caught me staring at her bosom she was apparently a trusted family retainer guarding the rooms while the guests were busy enjoying themselves at the mehendi ceremony downstairs. Swati talked to her while I hung back. The woman led us to a room at the end of the corridor and unlocked it. She had no reason to be suspicious about us. She just assumed we were husband and wife. I tried to draw Swati in my arms as soon as I locked the door behind us.
“Wait! This is an emergency.” She bakırköy escort whispered urgently.
She had been having discomfort in her vagina for some time since the afternoon. It had slowly aggravated into an irritating itch. She had bought a couple of tubes of a medicinal cream from a chemist in the hotel’s shopping arcade, just in case it was needed. Since she was a doctor’s daughter, she was familiar with medicines; and in India, one does not need a prescription to buy most medicines.
“The itch is now really bad! Besides, I need to pee. But I can’t use my hands with all the mehendi on them and I don’t want to wash them just yet. I don’t want my mehendi to look pale she leaned back against me and moaned in response. I quickly brought a pillow from the bed and placed it on the marble counter top. I made Swati bend forward and rest face down on the pillow, placing her folded arms on the counter above her head. The high heels she wore made her ass stick out provocatively. I removed the panties that lay tangled at her ankles, bunched the ghagra around her hips and spread her legs apart. Her angry red cunt surrounded by dark, curly pubic hair was now visible beneath the plump, fleshy mounds of her ass. Drops of urine glistened on the pubic hair. I wiped her pussy dry with toilet paper. I then squeezed a generous quantity of medicinal cream on my finger and massaged it gently on her inflamed orifice.
“How does it feel?” I whispered.
“Ahh… nice… cool…” She responded; her eyes closed.
“Good. It is going to make your itch go away.” I whispered, continuing the massage. I could feel slick secretions start to trickle out of her cunt. I then applied a thick layer of the cream on my cock head.
“Now I am going to spread it inside.” I whispered hoarsely. I placed my cock head between her labia, held her by the waist and thrust hard. My cock met with little resistance as it lodged itself to the hilt inside her. With this doggie style rear entry my cock rubbed new sometimes standing straight, squeezing and slapping her ass; occasionally trying to span her slim waist with my hands, sometimes reaching beneath her body to knead all the while plumbing the depths of her tight, hot cunt with my hard cock until I finally erupted in a massive orgasm. I was amazed at the quantity of semen I had been able to produce within just a few hours since our last başakşehir escort coupling. As for Swati, shudders passed through her body and tears flowed from her eyes with the intense orgasm she experienced. For the first time, her G spot had been tickled we didn’t want a wardrobe malfunction! She allowed me to do all of this, with an utterly relaxed and satiated expression on her face.
“Can I do your lipstick & eyeliner too?” I enquired tenderly.
“Honey, I know you can. But I think I’ll manage it!” She declined politely.
I looked on while she washed the henna off her hands and put on her makeup. I then cleaned myself up, applied some more medicinal cream on my cock head and got dressed. There was nobody in the corridor when we sneaked out of the room. The dragon lady was talking on the intercom and didn’t look up as I took the stairs while Swati waited for the elevator. I spent ten minutes loitering in the shopping arcade before entering the convention hall. I found Swati busy chatting with her friends. She looked absolutely radiant, an almost smug expression on her face after the hard climax she had just experienced.
“Wow, Swati! Your hubby must be crazy for you. Just look at the color of your mehendi!” A friend exclaimed, examining Swati’s hands. A small group of girls surrounded Swati, oohing and aahing over the shade of her mehendi. It was indeed very deep, almost black. Swati blushed and avoided glancing in my direction as I looked on with amusement…
It was well past midnight when the mehendi ceremony finally wound down and the guests dispersed. Quite apart from our little assignation in the hotel room, I had had a thoroughly enjoyable time. The food was excellent and I had worked up a hearty appetite. Swati was as good as her word. She introduced me to several attractive girls who surrounded me in a giggling group. They included Priyanka’s nineteen year old sister Rajeshwari, a tall, slim girl with a full, high bust, dimpled cheeks and tinkling laughter. The girls were quite curious and wanted to know about my time at IIT Kharagpur and about my athletic prowess. It appeared that Swati had given me quite a buildup with her friends.
Swati had decided to spend the night at the hotel with the wedding party. She insisted that I should attend the wedding next day, but I politely declined. I didn’t want to take unfair advantage of the host’s hospitality.
“Please do come, Sameer! I want to spend as much time as I can with you before I return home. Pleeease!” Swati begged. Tears glistened in her eyes.
The wedding was scheduled for the late morning next day. After a little discussion, we decided on a compromise. I agreed to meet her in the hotel’s coffee shop after lunch so that we could spend the afternoon together.