Deepika: My Muse

To my beautiful, sexy wife xxx

Deepika: My Muse

The first erotic photograph from my wife, sent to my phone when I was away from home presenting at a prestigious academic conference in Birmingham, arrived just over a year ago; almost a year after we were married and moved in together. She said she knew I was anxious about my presentation and had decided to send me a racy photograph of her lying in bed naked to give me something to take my mind off work. It was an innocuous enough photograph; a simple selfie with her face obscured and only her midriff and the hint of her breasts on display - her collection of cuddly toys were strategically positioned to preserve her modesty - but the appreciative text I sent in response told her how much it turned me on and it must have given her the idea to take things further.

It wasn't the photograph itself that made my cock hard - it was the fact that it was my wife, Deepika, that had sent it. Throughout our whirlwind courtship and early marriage, Deepika had never shown any exhibitionist tendencies. On the contrary: she had always appeared to be quite straight-laced when it came to the bedroom. She covered herself up every time she came out the shower and rarely changed in front of me or slept naked. It was as if she was embarrassed or ashamed of her body and took every opportunity to cover herself up.

I could never understand why she was so uptight about stripping off in front of me or why she often turned the lights out when we had sex - Deepika had an amazing body for a woman in her late thirties. Perhaps it was the fact that she had lived with her mother, nursing her for many years until she died to the exclusion of any serious relationships, that had made her uptight around men. But it made no sense to me: her tiny, stocky stature and firm, small breasts had always turned me on and I frequently told her so.

Even when she was dressed I would admire the curve of her bottom and thick, round calf muscles, and the way her long, dark, Indian hair beautifully framed her heart-shaped face. She may not have been a classic beauty but she was sexy as fuck and, despite her reluctance to be seen naked, we had a satisfactory, if slightly vanilla, sex life at the start of our marriage.

**********

Summers as an academic are often considered 'conference season' due to the number of events timed for when the delegates' teaching commitments are minimal, and last year I had a summer on the conference circuit ahead of me. As a newly-married lecturer with a strong sex drive I found the time away from my wife difficult, but my job and ongoing PhD research demanded my presence at several conventions that year. And so it was that two weeks later I travelled to another conference, this time in Newcastle.

I was staying in a basic university hall of residence in Newcastle city centre and, having been to a local bar with some colleagues from other universities, I was tired, a bit drunk and wanking over some porn when my phone pinged. It was another photograph from Deepika. This time it showed her completely naked from the neck down; her firm breasts and large, dark nipples clearly visible above her thick, black bush of pubic hair. Accompanying the photograph was a short message, "To James. Wish you were here. X"

Again, the message made my cock twitch and harden. The photograph of my sexy, naked wife was one thing, but the thought that she was in bed thinking of being fucked by me turned me on no end. I decided to give her a call.

"Hello Sexy," she said when she picked up. "Do you like my little present?"

"Like it? I love it!" I replied. "You're a naughty girl getting my cock hard when you're not here to do anything about it."

"Mmmm... well perhaps you'll have to do something about it yourself tonight - just as I'm doing now with my rabbit. I hope my picture helps. But when you come back tomorrow I'll be waiting for you in bed."

I had never known Deepika to be so forward and uninhibited. When she initiated sex - as she often did - it would usually be a gentle rub of my cock as we were kissing in bed, or waking me by gently wanking my morning wood. It was always spontaneous and silent and, once I knew she was in the mood, she would usually allow me to take over and be the dominant partner. She had never "scheduled" sex before and the disclosure that she owned a vibrator was a revelation to me. That my wife was becoming more bold and assertive in demonstrating her sexuality was both pleasing and exciting and I hoped that it was my constant reassurance and admiration of her fine physical assets that was behind this new-found self-confidence.

The sex the following evening was like nothing I had experienced before with Deepika. It was after nine o'clock when my flight landed at City Airport and by the time I had retrieved my bag and completed the short onward journey home, it was almost ten when I reached our apartment. The lights were all switched off apart from a lamp in the bedroom, the light from which enabled me to make my way to the half-open bedroom door without switching on the hallway light. The sound of relaxing music met my ears as I reached the door and gently pushed it open.

Deepika was lying seductively on top of the duvet dressed in the sexiest, sluttiest underwear I had ever seen her wear. She had never previously appeared to care too much about what she wore underneath her clothes, often settling for the first mismatched cotton panties and bra that came out of her drawer. To my knowledge, the only lingerie she owned was the red silk and lace set she had bought to wear under her wedding sari and had not worn since. But now she was dressed in a black corset much too racy to have come from Marks and Spencer. It had hints of lace, daring cut-outs, and the unlined cups and separate panties were semi-sheer, offering just a peek of her nipples and bush. Matching black silk stockings and suspenders completed the transformation. She looked stunning!

"Welcome home, Handsome," she said coquettishly. "I have another present for you, but this one you'll need to unwrap."

As my initial surprise that my reticent wife was being so forward began to subside, I knelt on the bed, kissed her and stood to undress but, once I was naked, she prevented me from lying beside her on the bed, shuffling to the edge and blocking my way.

"Do you like the wrapping?" Deepika asked, running a finger over her silky breast. "Do you like that I've dressed up for you?"

"God... yes! I love it, but..." I stammered.

"Then why don't you take some photos? Take some pictures of me to keep for when you're away next time." She picked up her phone from the bedside cabinet, unlocked it and passed it to me. "Just tell me how you want me - I'll do anything you ask. Let me be your muse."

This was an offer too good to refuse but, as I started taking a series of sexy shots of Deepika in a range of poses, it became clear that she needed little direction from me. My cock was rock hard as she played for the camera, sometimes touching herself as she spread her legs wide, other times pulling down her bra or panties to reveal the delights beneath. Every new pose was captured multiple times and within five minutes I must have taken well over a hundred photographs of my wife behaving like a complete slut.

Seeing that my cock was now dripping copious amounts of pre-cum, Deepika took things further. Taking my hand, she pulled me onto the bed with her and told me to lie down.

"Take some photos of me sucking your cock. When you're away next week I want you to remember this blow-job as you're wanking off over my photos." She bent over and took my length deep into her throat.

As her head bobbed up and down on my throbbing cock I held back her hair, taking dozens of photographs of my wife's beautiful face as she pleasured my cock and balls with her mouth and hands. Sometimes she would look directly at the camera as she wantonly licked my swollen glans or sucked my balls into her mouth. Other times she ignored the camera, focusing on my pleasure as she effortlessly brought me to the edge time and time again. Eventually, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"I'm going to cum," I said, thinking she would take her head away and finish me off by hand, watching as the cum spurted from my tip and onto her fingers as it had done so many times before. But Deepika just continued sucking my cock even more vigorously. "Dee, I'm going to cum in your mouth!"

I lined up the camera just in time. As my orgasm came and my tip started squirting ropes of hot, white cum into my wife's willing mouth, I took shot after shot of her emptying my balls. If the feeling of my semen splashing her tonsils concerned her she did well to disguise it, continuing to slowly bob up and down on my pulsing tool long after the last drops had been sucked from my scrotum.

Eventually, with my cock beginning to get flaccid, she slowly and carefully drew her mouth away and lay on her front, facing me. As she opened her mouth for the camera two small trickles of sperm dripped from the corners of her mouth, but a thick, milky pool of jism remained on her tongue. After a short pause and half a dozen more photographs, she swallowed every drop, even opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue as proof that she had drunk the lot.

After giving my cock a few moments to recover, Deepika knelt astride me as I sat on the bed. Pulling her small breasts from the cups of her corset she leaned forward, gripping the headboard as she pushed her breasts into my face.

"Suck them, Darling. Suck my little titties."

She ground her pussy on my stiffening cock as I took each nipple into my mouth in turn, sucking and gently nibbling them as I pressed my face firmly into her chest. Deepika moaned in satisfaction and I moved my hands behind her, unfastening her corset to give me better access to her beautiful, firm body. As I pulled the skimpy garment away, Deepika leaned backwards until she was flat on her back between my open legs. With her legs together, toes pointing to the ceiling, she wriggled her panties over her bottom and drew them upwards over her feet. Reaching for her phone again, I just managed to capture the moment when she opened her legs to show me how wet she was.

Her pussy was clearly aching to be fucked. The long, dark hairs around her opening were matted with her juices, and her pink outer lips and clitoris were fully engorged. As she used two fingers to play with herself, I could see thin strings of her wetness cloying between her open fingers, and her thick, dark nipples, which she teased with her other hand, were rock-hard after their sucking.

"Click... click... click."

The noise of the electronic shutter appeared to spur Deepika on to greater lewdness. Reaching under the bed, she retrieved her rabbit and resumed her previous position. Watching the vibrator disappear inside my wife's pussy as the small rabbit ears teased her clit was too much for me to bear. After a few last photographs I put down the phone and knelt between her legs.

Deepika was happy to allow me to take control of the rabbit and I continued to fuck her with it as she stretched her arms above her head in a sign of her submission to my touches. But I needed more. Twisting the rabbit, I moved the vibrating ears from her clitoris to her anus, holding the toy steady to allow her to fully enjoy the new sensation of her puckered hole being stimulated. Then, kneeling between her legs, my tongue took over the stimulation of her needy button.

I had never seen her writhe and buck with such intensity as, gripping the headboard with both hands, she moaned and panted her way through multiple orgasms. Even the hairs around her anus were wet, and a small damp patch was forming on the sheet as the collective efforts of my tongue and the rabbit brought her off time and time again. It was only when she brought her hands down between her legs that I knew she was spent: over-stimulated and in need of a break.

As Deepika lay recovering, I took some pictures of her gaping pussy and the stains beneath. My cock, by now completely stiff and ready for action, was creating a mess of its own as my pre-cum formed a silvery trail on the sheet with every slight movement and I just wanted to be inside my wife again, unloading my potent cargo into the deepest reaches of her pussy.

As I knelt between her legs and prepared to push myself inside her supine body, she put her hand on my chest to stop me.

"No, not like that, James. Lie on your back."

I did as I was told and lay back as Deepika knelt up on the bed. Once I was in the centre of the bed, she straddled me in the Reverse Cowgirl position and, gripping my wood with one hand, lowered herself onto it.

Deepika was so wet she took my cock easily, grinding her pussy downwards to ensure she took my entire length. After a few exploratory movements of her hips, she had me inside her at the right depth and angle for her pleasure and, leaning forward, began to bounce herself up and down on my cock.

I could immediately tell why Deepika had chosen this position. Reverse Cowgirl allowed me an astounding view not only of her round, brown bottom and dark anus, but also of my cock as it cleaved the inner folds of her salmon-pink labia. Again I reached for the camera, taking close-up after close-up of my wife as she twerked and gyrated on my rod, occasionally kneeling upright and allowing her luxurious dark hair to cascade over her shoulders and down her back as she ground herself on my throbbing cock and balls.

With the phone battery about to die and my need to cum becoming desperate, I put down the phone for a moment to focus on our mutual pleasure. I could tell that, with my tip stroking her cervix and her fingers aggressively rubbing her clit, Deepika was as close to orgasm as I was and with a final flourish, I thrust myself upwards to meet her pussy as the contents of my balls were released inside her at last. Surrendering to her own climax, Deepika flopped forward, panting and moaning, onto all fours, affording me an incredible view of my twitching cock as it inseminated her, and the thick stream of our shared cum that slowly escaped her pussy and dripped down my shaft.

Grabbing the phone, I captured every moment as Deepika slowly raised her hips, released my cock, crouched over me, and queefed a hot, thick stream of cum onto my cock.

Then the phone screen went black.

**********

Over the next few days, it was as if nothing had happened. Deepika reverted to her old self - shy, self-conscious and seemingly embarrassed to be naked. There was no sign of the hundreds of photos I had taken on her phone and had assumed would be sent to me afterwards. I put it down to her maybe drinking one too many G and Ts before my arrival home and that she was now regretting her slutty behaviour, but for me a Pandora's box had been opened and I wanted more.

The following week the academic circus moved to Cardiff. Many of the same faces, even some of the same speakers were there. Another day, another modern university, it seemed. As usual when at a conference, I spent the first evening in one of the many pubs with some fellow delegates, all of us eating on expenses and drinking a bit too much. I left and returned to my hotel earlier than I usually would have in the hope that, as with my last two conferences, there would be a 'present' from Deepika later. I had called her earlier in the evening but there was no suggestion that any pictures or anything else would be forthcoming but not had there been on the previous occasions, so I wasn't too discouraged.

It was half past ten when my phone pinged. There were two hyperlinks in Deepika's text but no explanation as to what they were. I clicked on the first one. The link took me to a file in Deepika's Dropbox. In it were a selection of around seventy of the photographs I had taken while we were fucking the previous week. Each one had been beautifully cropped, subtly Photoshopped where necessary, and all were in stunning black and white. I slowly scrolled through them. They were an almost perfect document of our amazing sex that night and surprisingly, she had left her face in many of the pictures.

My phone pinged again. "That's what I want you to do with me when you come home," the text message read.

Confused, I clicked on the second link and it took me to a video on a well-known porn website. I started the video, turning the sound on my phone down slightly in case the hotel had thin walls. The video was one I recognised of an Indian woman being fucked doggy style by a muscular white porn star. She was moaning uncontrollably as his huge cock pounded her shaven pussy. She was wearing a sari but her skirt was bunched around her waist and her breasts spilled from the front of her blouse, gently swinging with each of the man's thrusts.

The video moved to a close-up of the guy pulling his cock out of her pussy, covering it in lube, then gently easing it into her bumhole. My cock was straining at the fabric of my trousers. Did my wife really want me to fuck her arsehole? There had never been any suggestion before that she was into anal sex; any time my fingers or tongue had gone near her bud she had made her reluctance quite clear.

The porn star continued fucking the Indian woman until, with a grunt, he pulled out roughly and sprayed his cum over her skirt and naked bottom. The video ended just as my phone pinged.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I want you to do exactly what he does to her in the video."

**********

The next two days in Cardiff were torture! At one point I considered forgetting the conference and returning home early but the keynote speaker on the final day was a very big name who I had been looking forward to hearing and besides, Deepika might not be happy if her plans were brought forward. I decided to sit tight - at least I had the photographs for now.

Deepika must have known what she was doing. Sending the pictures and invitation for anal sex on my first night away made me desperate for her and over the next two days I became worse than a teenage boy; masturbating at every opportunity over one or other of the photographs while imagining I was balls-deep in my wife's arse. Once I even went into a toilet cubicle in a break between sessions to relieve my pent-up need for her, stroking myself off over a photo of my wife on all fours with my cock deep inside her pussy.

When Friday came, I left immediately after the keynote session, not able to get home quickly enough. Fortunately, the conference was wound up at lunchtime and I knew that if I made the next train, I could be back by four o'clock. Once on the train I texted Deepika, letting her know when I would be home.

"Okay Darling. See you soon. Safe journey. X" If she still planned to go through with her own anal induction she wasn't giving much away.

Every mile of the journey was torture and by the time the train reached Paddington Station, I had to discreetly check the front of my trousers for signs of the pre-cum I knew was leaking into my boxer shorts. I raced to the tube station and jumped on board, cursing every one of the stations on the seemingly interminable journey home. It was quarter past four when I eventually reached the flat.

As I put the key in the lock I imagined that Deepika would be waiting in the bedroom as before so, as I opened the door and put down my bags, I was surprised to see Deepika standing in the hallway. She looked stunning, wearing exactly the same red sari and Indian gold jewellery she had worn on our wedding day. She must have gone to some trouble and considerable expense because her hair was tied up with added hair-pieces, and her make-up was flawless and also clearly professionally applied, just as it had been when we were married. She even wore the same gold chain daintily linking her nath to her earlobe. For a moment I panicked, thinking I might have forgotten our first wedding anniversary but I was relieved to remember that it was still two weeks away, the day I returned from my final conference of the season.