Once Upon a Sleazy Time

"Wow, you got to be thrown as a blowjob queen of India", Malik applauded in heavy breath. He was clearly surprised about how good cock sucker she was.

She smiled with his thick cock in her mouth and looked in his eyes while shooting her tongue out just below her top teeth, then tried to take more of it in her mouth. Then, unable to resist the urge any longer, Anamika bit it, and Malik moved. She took her mouth off and said: "Sorry!" She kept holding his monster and her lips brushed the cock head, as she apologized for biting his cock.

"Talk to me, while I'm in your mouth..." replied Malik pressing her head to his flag pole. "And you can bite. I know how cock hungry you're...!"

Anamika cast a careless look at slumbering Raj before licking and biting, on the tip, shaft and towards the middle of the shaft. Most of the cream and sauce was gone now but his chocolate cock was still flavored with it so it was still tasting great.

"Nay...!" said Malik, as if disapproving her entire effort. "You're not skilled enough yet to take it all, Anamika". Saying this he cupped her cute face in his dark burning pals and made a wild thrust. The massive orange hit her throat.

Malik, started thrusting into her mouth which was totally amazing! The brutal intrusion was intensifying her desire to lick and bite his magnificent cock! He was thrusting his black steal pipe into her face, Anamika felt totally debased, she was pushing herself onto his cock, and after a bit she gagged and drew back, afraid she would be sick but she wasn't, it was just her gag reflex.

It was his turn for the wicked smile now, she saw the corners of his mouth begin to turn upward lecherously — at the same moment she felt the agonizingly sweet force of his tip sliding slightly further into her throat. He held her head with both hands and bobbed her face back and forth, "Hmmmmm ... mmmmm ... glub ... glub ...glub ... mmmmhhh ... cough ... hacc ... hmmm ... glub ..." She pulled back slightly when his cock head start pushing against the back of her throat, but it was too late and too little on her part. His monster erupted like a volcano!

"AAARRGGHHHHH ... HHHNAAAA ... FUCK ...Ha!" Malik grunt, while emptying his balls, deep in her throat.

Anamika no longer cared about this even. A complete whore in her was fully wake and all she wanted was to be remunerated with his flavor. She never had tasted cum and she wanted it so badly. Blast after blast Malik kept shooting his salty nectar in her throat.

His lava kept erupting in her mouth, so much, she couldn't keep up as it began to dribble out her mouth. Finally he pulled semi erect cock and tucked it back into those silk boxers and pulled up his shorts.

"Lean on the seat Anamika and relax, I'll take care of the rest", Malik asked her, as he lift her saree skit to her thighs and his fingers found her panty clad went cunt again.

Submissively she lean back on the reclining seat after clearing her lips and drinking half bottle of water to digest his cum. Anamika then sealed her lips and eyes, in anticipation of his next move. Anamika knew, something kinky and creative is in line, from this Wiley pervert. She didn't want to see what was going on around her. She didn't want to look at her husband, she didn't want to think they were on a plane. Anamika just wanted to feel Malik's hand, brushing her legs, going up and down, approaching her magic triangle and walking away, making her feel stimuli unknown to her, for a long time.

Malik continued to touch her above the panties, brushing, caressing and paying piano over her panty clad blazing cunt. He varied the movement of his fingers all over her panty — both in force and speed. Anamika felt a little fire cracker exploding deep inside her. She spread her legs to give him more space. Her frustration was mounting though, due to this tease. She need something so desperately in her cunt. A fat tongue, few thick fingers. Ideally his big black cock.

"Your panties are bothering me, Anamika", she heard Malik's warm whisper in ear, as she flicked her earlobe with his tongue.

She opened her eyes and biting her lower lip, managed to say, "Okay, take them off", Anamika blushed so deep with those words the buried her face in his broad chest. Never in her life had she even asked this to her husband.

Next moment her lacy wet panty was hanging at her ankles. In extreme ecstatic state, she did not realized when his three thick fingers slipped inside her married cunt, one by one. Anamika could not suppress a moan of pleasure, she shook her head and it fall on Raj's shoulder. She started yelping like a puppy, "Aauu .. au ... au ...uuuoo ... oh ...ohh ...aahh ..mmm ...ah.. ah ... ahhh!"

"Calm down bitch, you don't want to wake up your husband", Malik warned her, rolling his thick fingers deep in her cunt, as if he is taking some jelly out a pot.

Anamika moaned louder and pressed her lips on Raj's shoulder to conceal the sound. First his kisses and now those three fingers in her cunt had liberated Anamika, from the gravity of fear and loyalty. Involuntarily, she opened her legs for him, offering more of herself, her pride, her Chasity to his skilled fingers.

Every time his hand parted her cunt lips, her clitoris would want to leave, it increased in size, as if it had a life of its own, and the brush with his hand multiplied her joy.

Her breathing increased on his skilled touching, every nerve in her body seemed like a strained harp-string ready to snap at his touch. Anamika was feeling like going up to heaven not only the seventh sky, where the plane furrowed its course, but to the sky of pleasure — to the mountain of joy, at the peak of fulfilment.

It had been a long, since Raj had fucked her and that craving for pleasure, which had somehow become larval, now emerged in full swing, and at its peak. His thick fingers was flying her body to the clouds of climax — where she could do nothing but to fly at his will, to his wants. The only choice or desire she was left with, Malik fucking her with his glorious black cock — not with his fat fingers. His BBC was her death wish, before passing into carnal sky. She was about to explode in his hand, when pervert stooped. Anamika opened her eyes in great agitation and looked at him. "Malik, please...!"

But he was no more on his seat at her right side but had moved between her legs.

"Oh Malik, No, no! No please. You don't have to return the favor. Anamika whisper with body in strained. She had heard and read a lot about licking but never experienced anything. With a super hygiene conscious Brahmin husband like Raj, getting a finger in her cunt was a bliss and her she was feeling Malik's warm breath over her wet defeated cunt, as he knelt on the floor and without a word.

With a hard jerk he spread her thighs and her heels were on his strong shoulders now, and buried his face in her sopping wet pussy. Malik began his ministrations with his tongue licking his lover's lips, and tonguing her love hole, and then tongue fucking her as he gently squeezed her round breast, which are still in her blouse.
It was as if an electric charge had surged through her body, and Anamika covered her lips to curb that loud moan of pleasure.

"AaahhhhhHHHHHHuu, Malik! Please don't!"

But clearly, her body's response to him was different from her mind's response. Her legs twitched, her married pussy spasmed, and her hands rushed to his head. For Anamika, it was truly a 'to-be-or-not-to-be' moment. At first, she pushed his head away and in next breath dragged him more to her cunt. Her body had chosen her to-be-a-bitch! Her mind was still denouncing that licentiousness.

"Oh Malik, we should stop here please", but contradicting her plea, she moaned as her body gently rocked from side to side as Malik licked all over her married cunt, like a dog.

"I want to taste the juices flowing from your cunt." Said Malik while licking her entire cunt, nibbling her pussy lips, in between his fat lips.

Her hands travelled up and down, feeling his muscular shoulders, rubbing his big head. Her lustful desire for his body was overtaking her guilty conscience mind. From corner of her lustful eyes Anamika looked at Raj, the little remnant of her loyalty wanted Raj to wake up, right now and kick this black bastard. But, Raj was snoring. Fighting her marital commitments and womanly lust, she give in to his fingers and tongue.

"OH, Malik, Malik, you're killing me...oh God", She moaned those words and allowed Malik more space in between her legs, in her heart.

Suddenly both his tongue and fingers in her got violent, having inserted three fingers that he plunged into her, rotated inside of her, and then pulled out quickly, only to shove them back in quickly.
"Uffffff Maaaaaaaaalik." She moaned his name softly again, like it was her new mantra.

She couldn't believe how delightful he was. Never did she think that another climax may built in her within no time. Anamika was stunned that her body was about to do the same thing again.

'Malik, please, take me, own me — make me yours! I want you to make love with me", Please, Malik!' She whispered in desperation. Her words were getting harder to understand because her breathing was almost erratic. Reaching for his arms and tried to pull him up and on top of her. She was craving the feel of his black cock. However, Malik ignored her plea, and kept fucking her devoted cunt with his thick fingers and fat tongue. They were so tightly stuffed in her cunt. Her next climax promised to be even bigger than the one before it, but Malik was edging her.

"HHMMmm!! MMmm! Ow!! Ow! Oh! Oh! OH!!", Anamika yelped like a puppy.

He knew that her orgasm had overwhelmed her, and fueling an abundance of desire in her would turn her in his hand, as his toy. She would be his to play with as he pleased, and she would do whatever he wanted her to do. For that level of submission, she had to be deprived of that ultimate joy and boast her hankering for the big black cock.

Gaining deeper access to her cunt and drink her love juices, Malik was now almost inside her saree skirt and Anamika had her legs around his shoulder and covering him with her saree pallu. Most of the passengers were asleep in nearby seats, but from a fair distance, the young Indian airhostess was watching this salacious show from her seat. On hearing a shuddering moan of Anamika, a wide teasing smile broke on her rosy lips and grabbing a few juices, she walked to them, with a thought to interrupt Anamika's orgasm. Without making any sound she reached to them from behind.

"Would you like to have some more juices, Sir", Anamika half heard that teasing female voice from over her head. In her deep ecstasy, amid leaking her juices in Malik's mouth, Anamika could only see a blurred vision of airhostess. It took her a moment to hold her posture and cup her mouth with both hands.

"You for sure need some juices, I guess, Mrs. Mohan...!", she asked you with a smile as she had no response from Malik but slurping sound from between your legs, where he is lost under the tent of your saree. She must had checked her name in the passenger list.

Mrs. Mohan. That was a really a subtle slap on her face, as Anamika cast another look on her snoring husband. She tried pushing Malik off between her legs.

The airhostess was also a woman and she could not stop admiring both, Anamika's creamy sensual charm and her luck. Then she broke in a laughter when a big black face emerged from between Anamika's legs. Like nose panted joker — Malik had your juices all over his nose and lips.

"Ha-ha. Some more juices sir? She asked again, teasing him. Luckily she ensured keeping her voice low, and other passengers still were not drawn to them.

"You little tease", replied Malik playfully, "have they hired you to flirt with climax at this PEAK?" He moved out from between your legs and smiled at you, then with a frown looked at her again.

"No, I don't need any juices, but I won't mind you joining us", Malik retort, winking at her.

It was girls' turn now to be embarrassed, for half hour or more she had been watching what a bold and skilled beast Malik is. She looked in his eyes for a few second longer and ran back to her cabin.

"Bitch", Malik said sitting back on his seat and grabbing Anamika's saree pallu he wiped his nose and face.

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"So...!" Anamika asked him, turning her head to watch where that airhostess has gone. Anamika was thoroughly interrupted at her climax and she wanted to throw that airhostess, out of the window.

"Say those words bitch". He demanded pulling out his fingers and moving back to his seat. Suddenly all his mannerism was gone, and he was talking in some lecherous manner, that Anamika abhor.

Anamika realized what Malik was asking. The mask of young charming Black Romeo was gone and she could see the same Black pervert who sent her those dirty messages. The second SMS echoed in her mind, again and again, as she looked in his lustful eyes.

After a long thoughtful pause without a blink, she cupped his big black face in her creamy hands and drawing his ear to her quivering lips: "Malik, please take me fuck me, Malik."

"No", he immediately declined her plea. "Say in exactly those words, I text you", Malik teased her more, as his hand slipping inside her saree pallu, over her blouse, grabbed her full heavy breast in his bucket of palm.

Anamika in her elemental lust now didn't care about anything anymore, she was clear about what I wanted. "I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME, MALIK", she whispered again, biting his neck. The animal in Anamika was unleashed and it was not going to get back, until she is ravished.

"Uff....! How horny — how horny...!" Malik said, rising from his seat "I never thought you are such a cock hungry bitch. What happen to you arrogant prudence, huh?"

"MALIK please, don't leave me like this... I will dieeeee... I will die plsssssssss..." Anamika whispered, grabbing his sleeves. Her tone was very suggestive of those tears she was holding in her big black eyes. "Please, be mine, Malik, make me yours, and mark me".

"Okay. Ok, you horny cunt, replied Malik holding his laugh. "But for starters, you will have to dress for me, as I asked you before — remember?"

Anamika didn't fathom anything, how the hell was she going to dress for him? In any case, he would have to undress her. "I don't understand Malik, what do you want me to do?" She inquired, pinching his lips with her delicate finger, as if reciprocating the pinched she received on her erect brown nipple, under her top.

"I want you to dress in Versace for me, Anamika", replied Malik. "Wear nothing but perfume for me".

In her desperation to get fucked, Anamika just nodded and grabbing perfume bottle from her hand bag and rushed to the toilet. She walked in inadvertence, but noticing that most of the passengers asleep in the semi dark airbus. A few trying to read a book, in the dim lights of panels, some passenger were listening music, but nobody paid attention to anyone. The lights in the plane due to some fucking technical reasons were so dim, that she had to watch her steps. By the washroom door, the same airhostess gave her a teasing smile. Anamika frown at her but avoided any talk. She was in too much of hurry to get fucked by a magnificent black cock.

Entering the cozy privy, she closed the door behind her. As she turned, someone surprised her in the small mirror. She almost didn't recognize herself. Her face was scarlet with excitement, and her eyes were burning with carnal desire, mouth wide open, and exhaling warm heat of wet cunt. She looked like a real bitch.

Hurry up bitch — wailed her defeated cunt.

Never in such a haste, Anamika had ever undressed herself, as she did then, tossing her saree and undergarments inside a towel box. And she stud stark nude, excited to wear that perfume costume and grabbing the small bottle from her hand bag, she sprayed it a lot in the air, till a small dim vapor of fragrance was floating.

Her legs akimbo, vulva being sprayed, she clutched her fingers, titling her head backward she closed her eyes. The warmth and the natural rhythm of the falling air felt absolutely wonderful. Her brown nipples stood out more like bullet, as she received that smoke of perfume over her body. She sprayed more perfume in air and rolled around, like dancing in perfume. Wave of perfume falling — pause, another wave, pause, wave, pause, wave. The waves become heavier — the pauses shorter, until it is wave after wave. In a delightful combination of pleasure — pain and anguish, Anamika danced in perfume and was fully wet to receive him.

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Then she heard a knock on the door and his voice. As she opened toilet door a little, Malik pushed her back and entered the cozy cabin. Anamika stepped back as she stood in front of him. Her saree, a puddle on the floor, and she was only wearing the perfume he wanted her to wear, stark nude. Nervous, ashamed and guilty, but very — very horny.

Malik stood there opposite to her, as if her dusky charm has casted some carnal spell on him. Spell-bounded, as if in stupor he watched her heavenly beauty. They both stood there eye-to-eye, breathing heavily. Malik was intoxicated by the exotic fragrance of perfume, her sweat and the soft heat of her body. Each breath was an iridescent bubble fresh-blown from the lips of fancy.

Her mane was knotted in a causal bun, but when she shook head, bite her lower lip, her hair came cascading down in a glowing wave over her shoulders, and fell as far as her knees. This rippling curtain did not cover her breasts which thrust their way through it like living creatures. Her C cups were perfect rounds — light dusky and tipped with naseberry nipples that puckered as his gaze passed over them. Malik but he could not held his gaze over her well tone china cup smooth slippery skin. His falling gaze stopped in between her legs.

Anamika started to shake, her knees knocking together, like she was a virgin, like this was the first time. Because had she allowed herself to hope, this was what she would've hoped for. And now here it was. And that was terrifying.

Malik smiled at her inhaling her scent and took her hand and placed it over his bare chest, to his heart, which was pounding wildly, in tandem with hers. In her own craving, it did not occur to her that he might be mystified by her beauty, too. She'd thought he was just excited, turned on. But next moment he shocked her...!

Extending his long arm to her chest Malik grabbed her Mangal sutra (a weeding necklet) and with a hard jerk rip it off from her neck. It was the Raj's signature on her, a symbol of his ownership in her body, medal of his authority on her. With a shock Anamika watched Malik throwing her Mangal sutra in flush, and he closed the toilet seat, with its flap.

Whatever had held them apart, whatever had restrained their bodies before — was now gone! If the earth spun it faltered, if the wind blew it waited. His hands found her flesh; flesh, flesh. As his thick fingers brushed her nipple it tripped a switch and she came alight. He touched her belly and his hand seemed to burn through her. He lavished on her body indirect touches and bitter-sweet sensations flooded her brain.

Their lips meet again and melted — Anamika blocked out all thought about what this was, what it might mean, what further mess I might create for myself. She kissed him until reason seeped out through her pores and she became a living pulse, conscious only of what carnal hunger.

And suddenly they were crashing around the small toilet she put her soft arms around him, drawing him down to her so he could feel my breasts all perfume "Yes, Malik!" she could feel his was pumping so madly as out would burst out on her breast.