Driven To Desperation Ch. 03byfluidline1©
I was dictating the final draft of my quotation to Meghana at the office when the three guys who worked for me walked into the office.
"Sir," said Ajay, a longhaired boy, in his mid-twenties who'd graduated from the Fine School of Architecture last year.
I frowned at him. It was a well-known fact that I did not like to be disturbed when I was dictating quotations.
"I hope you have a good reason to disturb me at this point of time, Ajay."
"Oh, but he has!" interrupted Uday, a sly smile on his face. He was a year senior to Ajay and was one hell of a marketing guy, which is why I had hired him. Short and stocky, one would never realize what a dynamo Uday was until one listened to his arguments.
Ravi, the third guy who was responsible for the coordination between purchase and sales during construction spilled the beans.
"It's your wedding anniversary today, sir," he broke in.
I slapped a palm against my forehead. I had totally forgotten and suddenly realized why Anita hadn't come to the office today.
Meghana was the first to wish me.
"Happy anniversary, Ashish. And do wish Anita on my behalf."
I grabbed my jacket, rising from my chair, the quotation forgotten.
"Thanks, Arum, I reckon you people deserve a break. And what better than to have a day at the office without me around here."
Arum was an acronym for my staff – Ajay, Ravi, Uday and Meghana. It was Anita who had coined the word and they loved her for it.
The idea hit me when I was driving home.
I decided to present, what I considered to be my masterpiece, to Anita tonight on our wedding anniversary. I was sure it would make a perfect gift!
Since I was aware whom I had in mind when I had made the painting, it looked too familiar and I had almost thought about changing it. But, eventually, I resisted the temptation as it looked almost lifelike and, if I were right, she would be more interested in that piece sticking out between the sprawled out legs than the rest of the picture of the man reclining on the chair.
After the formalities that consisted of my mom performing a small ritual for her son and her daughter-in-law (basically, seating us on a couch and twirling a silver tray upon which were lighted candles) we decided to celebrate in the nearby hotel.
If she had had her way, she would have taken me straight to the bedroom and to bed. But it was only six in the evening, so I guess she had to kill time so that she wouldn't be too obvious.
We uncorked a bottle of champagne and the hotel staff congregated to wish us a happy anniversary.
"It will be one after we hit the sack and you fuck the daylights out of me," she whispered under her breath as we settled down in a dimly lit corner of the hotel.
She was looking gorgeous in a bright red sari with golden borders and a matching blouse, buttoned in front. As usual, the border was firmly tucked around her breasts and fastened to the blouse with a pin.
We went through a lot of sexual innuendo throughout the dinner. I was on a sexual high with the knowledge that I would finally be presenting her with the painting and I conjured up images of her squatting on the fake prick with mine in her mouth.
She was equally bad. When she picked up a finely sliced piece of cucumber from the salad, she said, "Now, I basically prefer a cucumber that is not sliced. I like to hold it in my hands and eat it."
"I'm luckier," I grinned, flicking my tongue over a fairly large piece of mushroom. Under the table, her toes dug into my groin.
Without her knowledge, I managed to gulp down a couple of Viagras and a couple of some herbal capsules I had bought from a local quack. I thought I was beginning to feel the effects (or maybe they were psychological, I don't know), but I could feel my prick stiffening up even more than I thought that it normally did.
So, when we were driving back at about ten in the night, we were both pretty charged up.
"Now, for some action. Remember this very day what seems to be just a few years ago when you popped my cherry?" she sidled toward me and licked my ear.
"How can I forget?" I was aware that I was sporting a bulge; in fact, I had been sporting one for quite some time now. "This time around, I have a surprise for you."
"Wow! You never gave me an idea of that," she squealed, squeezing the bulge in my trousers. "What is it?"
"That would not mean it is a surprise if I tell you now, would it?" I asked, kissing her cheek, keeping my eyes on the road. "But I'm sure you are going to like it. I promise you that. Now, just let me drive, okay? We want to go home soon, huh?"
She allowed me to drive without interruption. The champagne had given the two of us a faint, nice buzz, and she sat back on the seat, her eyes closed, perhaps, dreaming about her 'gift'.
My parents had taken in our daughter (bless them!) and we used our keys to let ourselves in and crept up the stairs to our bedroom.
As soon as I had closed the door and locked it behind me, she flung herself against me, plastering me against the wall, her mouth on mine. She pressed her body against me as our tongues dueled together.
I managed to flick on the dim night lamp as we kissed and groaned when I felt her hands fumbling with the zipper of my pants. I groped up to reach for the pin and swiftly undid it, pulling the border off her shoulders. I gasped for two reasons: one, the front of her blouse plunged down dangerously to reveal almost half of her tits and two; she had pulled my prick outside and was tugging on it.
She moaned softly as I unbuttoned the row of buttons at the front of her blouse, pushed it back over her shoulders and pulled down the tiny straps of her flimsy half-bra. Her breasts sprang free from within the confines and immediately, I took possession of them, beginning to knead them.
We remained locked up in that position for a while, me backed up against the wall, cupping her ample bosom protruding from the half open blouse and bra, and she, fondling my erect prick, caressing the shaft in gentle up and down movements. All this while, our mouths remained fused together.
We were both out of breath when she finally pulled back from my mouth. Her eyes, half closed and full of lust (I guess mine too were), she said, "The present, darling. Please, please, let me see it. Though this," she tugged at my prick, "is more than enough."
I let go of her melons and forced her hands away from my turgid prick. I switched on another light; this too was dim, but with two of them glowing in the room, there was enough light for me to unfurl my present and for her to see.
I walked to the corner of the room where I had placed the portrait, covered up by a thick cotton bed sheet. I had decided that this was the best place, because directly opposite to it and by the side of it were two large mirrors.
Dramatically, I flung the bed sheet away and stepped aside so that she could see it.
She gasped. In the dim light, I could see her mouth gaping and her eyes were wide open. As I had guessed, her eyes were drawn to the fake prick. Ah well! After all, she wasn't an artist to appreciate the finer aspects of a portrait.
"Oh my god, Ashish!" she said in a kind of a stunned voice. "That's…that's so beautiful!"
I felt ridiculously proud of my creation and watched with bated breath as she made her way slowly across the room, shrugging out of the blouse and the bra. She stopped when she was hardly a foot away from it.
She had to bend slightly, which she did. Tentatively, she reached out with one hand and gently wrapped her fist around the dildo.
So there! I had guessed right. She wanted another prick to participate and that sight aroused me further. I was painfully aware of my erection now, standing out of my trousers, as I stared at her sliding her hand up and down over the length of the dildo, her huge breasts dangling down.
"It looks so real!" she whispered, her eyes riveted on the dildo.
I walked up to her, pulling down my pants and my underwear along with it till I was naked, except for my silk shirt. I stood behind her and leaned against the back of her bent body, reaching down to hold her swinging breasts in my hands. I pressed my erect prick against the crack of her buttocks, so enticingly visible under the sari.
"This is real, baby," I told her moving my prick up and down against her buttocks.
Still staring at the dildo, she said, "Undress me, Ash. Get me naked. Now! Please, quick!"
I peeled away the layers of the sari and then the petticoat under it, sliding them down over her thighs. She was still bent over when I pulled down her panties too.
I glanced at her and realized that she was still fondling and caressing the dildo. She raised one leg and then the other to allow me to strip off the garments. She was now stark naked. I pulled out my shirt and then, rising, pressed the front of my body against her back.
My naked prick rubbed her buttocks and I slid my hands around her waist to cup her breasts.
"Oh God, Ash, put your cock in me. Now, please, don't make me wait," she breathed.
"I will," I replied, kneading her mounds, pinching her erect nipples, "only if you suck that dick."
She didn't hesitate. She had to take a step backwards so that she could bend down to get her mouth around the dildo. I craned my head to watch her tongue sneaking out of her mouth and lick the fake prick.
Almost instantaneously, my prick rose even further. My heart began to beat like a trip hammer and I realized that I was now getting just as aroused as I used to during the period immediately after our marriage.
As I pressed my prick between her legs, she reached behind her and grabbed it in her hot hand. I watched her open her mouth and dip down to take the dildo in even as she guided my prick into the wet folds of her hot pussy.
She moaned when my prick slid into her right to the hilt, and I paused, letting my balls rest against her buttocks, watching her beginning to bob her head up and down over the dildo. I could no longer stand it any more and squeezing her breasts as hard as I could, I began to pump into her. After a very, very long time, I was getting to do what I always wanted to: fast, deep and hard thrusts into her, somehow confident that I wouldn't come abruptly, neither fear that I would lose my erection.
The dildo was slightly over seven inches long. I had measured it. I also had to drill a hole an inch and a half to insert it into the portrait. These measurements were by no means on the smaller side.
Yet, Anita was managing to stuff the entire length and width of it inside her mouth whenever I would thrust my prick inside her pussy. She no longer had to work her head to and fro; my rapid thrusts ensured that she didn't have to.
With her left hand, she held on to the fake balls and with her right, she fondled mine. Her hot pussy was snapping away at me, like a tight sheath expanding and contracting around my shaft. My prick felt super sensitive inside her and her hand pulling and pressing my balls was driving me out of my mind. Spreading my palms as much as possible over her breasts, I squeezed with all the strength I could muster till she was whimpering and moaning ecstatically.
I bent low over her, pressing my entire body against her back as I pumped vigorously in and out of her. I was breathing hard now, aware that I was perspiring, the sweat pouring off my brow onto her back.
"Oh shit, Ann," I groaned suddenly, watching as she pulled back from the dildo and began to lick its length with her tongue.
"I'm going to come, honey, oh god, I am going to come!"
She began to thrust her buttocks back toward me, urging me to spend inside her. I clutched her melons, threw back my head and closed my eyes. I could feel my semen boiling up inside my balls, and then, suddenly, the juice began to spurt in what seemed to me like endless torrents into her pussy.
I continued to pound her till I knew that she had milked me dry.
I looked down, opening my eyes and watched her still sucking on the dildo. Suddenly, I realized that I wanted to come once again.
I pulled her away from the fake prick and spun her around. She looked at me in astonishment.
"Suck my cock, honey, make me come again," I rasped out.
Her eyes sparkled and she smiled as she slid down on her knees. She leaned forward and licked the tip of my prick with the tip of her tongue.
"Wait," I said, pulling away. "I got a better idea."
She remained kneeling there as I quickly walked to the bed and grabbed a couple of pillows.
"Kneel on these so you can suck my cock and fuck that dick," I told her.
She looked delightedly at me as I arranged the pillows on the floor. She shuffled forward to rest her knees on them. This way, the height was just right for her.
"Get that dick inside your cunt first," I said, feeling more excited than I ever had before.
"That's so hot, Ash," she replied. She lifted her buttocks, her back to the portrait, reached below her to open the petals of her pussy and gradually lowered herself, impaling the dildo inside her pussy.
"Now," she whimpered, "come over here and let me suck you."
I stood in front of her, my prick dangling over her face. She opened her mouth wide, grabbed the base of my prick with one hand and quickly engulfed me. It was sensational!
I watched our reflection in the mirror. She was bouncing up and down over the dildo, sucking on my prick, her long hair flying up when she came down and plastering against her cheeks when she raised herself up. She was putting a lot of tongue into play, so that my prick was glistening, mixed as it was now with both, her juices and her saliva.
Amazing, but I got hard in next to no time. I held the back of her head as I gradually increased the pace of the movement of my hips. To and fro, to and fro, I pumped into her mouth. She began to apply more suction now, making like a vacuum cleaner.
Her movements on the dildo picked up pace too. Her breasts bobbed and jiggled as she slammed on fake prick. The portrait, as I knew it would, held its position. The faceless man was enjoying a hell of a ride!
She pulled her face away from my prick and looked up at me, her eyes wide with lust.
"Oh God, Ash, oh god, oh god, I'm cumming…I'm cumming…"
She slammed back and forth on the dildo, rotating her hips in furious circular motions; then, she suddenly sank down on it, going rigid.
"Ooohh…ugghhh…omigod…I'm – I – am cumming…"
She grabbed my prick, furiously pumping it to and fro, desperately trying to make me come with her. It was futile, I guess. I had a long way to go. I had come just a few moments ago, and I felt triumphant that I had made her climax before I had. It had been quite a long time since this had happened.
She stretched back on the portrait, the dildo still buried inside her pussy as she continued to masturbate my prick. Watching her like that, I looked up at the portrait and suddenly imagined what it would be like if the man I had in mind when I painted him would actually be there.
The pillows beneath her knees were, as I said of just the right height. So, as she leaned back, the dildo inside her pussy, I pulled my prick away from her hands.
She looked up at me in surprise. "What's it?"
"I want to fuck your boobs now," I told her, shuffling forward to lay my prick between her melons.
"Oh, I would love that," she replied, pushing her breasts together to wrap my prick in the cleavage there.
I pushed my prick deeper in the valley between her breasts and began to slide it in and out. She helped me by moving along with me and by crushing her melons together; she created the right friction for my shaft to slide between them.
I remembered the day she had made me do this for the first time; after I had oiled her up thoroughly with the pheromone. That slickness was missing today, so I pulled out and pushed my prick back to her mouth.
"Make it wet baby," I told her and she complied, taking me in her mouth and flooding it with her saliva.
I pulled out again, and then knelt down on the floor. While she held her breasts together, I leaned forward and licked the cleavage. I paid no attention to the nipples; I merely licked and lapped the expansive valley until it was dripping with my saliva.
I rapidly got to my feet again and inserted my shaft between her mounds.
"Oh, yes, darling, fuck my tits, oh yes, like that, darling, faster, baby, fuck them faster and harder," she moaned.
I gripped her to me by her shoulders and began to really sock it to her. My hips started to piston to and fro like they had gone crazy. I glanced down and watched my prick moving between those enormous boobs.
The sight of my prick sliding between her melons finally succeeded in inflaming me and carrying me to the point of no return.
"Oh yes, honey, I'm going to come, oh yessss…"
"Come, darling, come on my tits, give them your juice, honey, come, spurt over me," she said.
I jammed forward, watching the tip of my prick poke out from between the top of her breasts and shuddering, I let go.
The sperm shot out, hitting her under her chin, and then I drew back, as she held the base of my prick, directing it right on top of her mounds. The juice splattered over her flesh and she moaned as if in approval.
I was truly amazed at the amount of jism I had produced. Apart from her chin, her breasts got completely wet and when she took me in her mouth, I was still coming.
It took a long time for my prick to stop spitting out the goods and when the flow finally did stop, she kept sucking it.
I drew back only when I was certain that there was nothing left. For now.
I looked up again at the portrait, recalled the guy whom it represented and winked at the headless picture.
I guess the portrait changed the way of our life.
Anita became more and more animated and I got the will to do it more and more to her. Getting an erection was no longer a problem for me neither was maintaining it.
And by god! She really invented a hell of a lot of positions and scenarios for us. In the beginning, she would mount the dildo, her back to the portrait and bouncing up and down over it, would lean to take my prick in her mouth. Depending upon how I was feeling, I would ejaculate either in her mouth, over her tits or on her face. At times, I would bend down and spray my come right over her pussy, which at that time would be impaled by the dildo.
The first variation she came up with was lowering her self on the dildo, facing the portrait. This way, her head would peek out from behind the portrait where the real head should have been. It looked bizarre, I suppose; like the man was sprawled on the chair with his head turned around at three hundred and sixty degrees. Only, that head did not belong to any man. It was my wife's. I would then stand behind the portrait and fed my prick into her mouth. Of course, during these activities, I always needed to watch the dildo going in and out of her pussy; that was the reason I was lasting so long and our coupling had vastly improved.
Then there was the time that she had managed to place the portrait on the bed by arranging a couple of pillows beneath it at the right places. She had covered it up with a blanket.
"Look, Ash, our lover!" she had announced when I had walked into the bedroom, pulling back the blanket. The fake prick, pointing at the ceiling looked doubly enormous. She had made me lie next to it in a way that it seemed I was going to go in the sixty-nine with it; only, she assumed the position, slamming her pussy so that it was inside her pussy, lying on top of it and then turning her head so that she could gobble up my prick.
Thus began our affair with Headless. As I had expected, Anita became obsessed with it. Very often, I had walked up into the bedroom to find her playing with the dildo. She would be either caressing it, bouncing up and down over it or sucking on it. Once, I came up to find her lying on the bed, the portrait on top of her, and she was moving it up and down over her writhing pussy.