The Naked Truth0 (0)
IN PICS: TULASI | SOURCE: WEB
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Some of my stories are loosely based on real-life incidents, but details are fictionalized. My stories involve unsafe sexual acts. I do not condone unprotected sex and recommend readers to always practice safe sex. The risk is not worth it. These are fantasies and meant for entertainment only. My stories are my hobby — an expression of my erotic side. I mean no disrespect to women featured in my stories. If you know the woman in the story, please write to me and the pictures will be taken down — no questions asked.
Happy reading!
My Perspective — The Seductress
I wasn’t part of Shailaja’s interview team. The first day I saw her was the day she started working in my team. The moment I set eyes on her, I knew what I wanted to do so much more than just fuck her. I wanted to deposit loads of cum deep inside her and impregnate her. I knew it was a dangerous lust and impractical and kept my urges in check. With every passing day, the urge to bed and breed her only kept growing.
That she was part of my team and my assistant on a few projects didn’t help matters any. We had to work as a team, and on the projects where she was my understudy, we ended up spending a lot of time one-on-one.
She was a seductress without meaning to be. Every inch of her body oozed sensuality, her eyes had that “fuck me” look about them and her conservative, small-town innocence meant that she had no idea of the torment she was causing me and possibly a few other guys in the team.
Shailaja had just moved to the city from a small town after her marriage. The small town girl in the big city was like a deer in the headlights. On the one hand, the big city had her bedazzled and in awe. On the other hand though, everything about the city intimidated her.
Unsure of herself and low on self-confidence, Shailaja had to look for a job when her husband’s company downsized and they needed the income to make ends meet. Shy and introverted, she was insecure and everything about her job scared her.
She had all it needed to succeed. Her qualifications were exemplary. Her experience at her home town spoke volumes for her ability and talent.
Her good looks and well endowed body could just the cherry on the cake when it came to dealing with clients — if she learned how to use it to her advantage by showing just enough.
But, she wasn’t doing well. Her fear of failure and low self-confidence made her under perform to an extent that it was starting to hurt her career prospects. Her conservative background meant that she covered every inch of her skin that could possibly be covered (of course, that was my personal grouse, not a professional limitation).
The pressure was mounting on me to let her go — it was the last thing I wanted to do for very personal and sexual reasons. I wanted her and the longer she worked for me, the better were my chances of getting into her pants, pussy and womb. I had no intentions of passing up such a delicious opportunity.
Over the months, we had gone past being a boss and subordinate and had become good friends (though I wanted so much more than her friendship). I had visited her place, met her family and her loving husband, we had spent many evenings after office, talking about her insecurities. I tried to mentor her and the more I gained her trust and the closer we got, the harder it was becoming for me to keep my sexual urges in check.
During a few of these talks, she had broken down and I had held her close — pressing her boobs against me, caressing her back and even her ass a couple times.
I was going home almost everyday with aching balls and relieving myself multiple times imagining how differently our embraces could have ended.
“I am going to be let go, am I not?” She asked me one day during our 1 on 1 meeting.
“Not if I can help it,” I replied honestly.
She smiled sadly. “Thank you for the confidence, but we both know I am not doing enough to hold my job. It’s only a matter of time,” she added.
“Look, I won’t lie. You haven’t been able to perform as well as you did back home,” I said. “But I don’t think it is an issue of ability or talent. You aren’t a small fish in a big pond Shy (she had been nicknamed Shy just days after joining work). You are just low on confidence and, if you are up to it, I am willing to work with you on your confidence.”
“You think it will work?” she asked, unsure of herself.
“If you believe in yourself and do whatever it takes, yes.” I replied. “I believe your potential is underutilized and it’s a matter of breaking the shackles. I expect so much more from you, that you have just no idea. Granted, it won’t be easy and adapting to city life can mean you have to get out of your comfort zone and be bold. But if you are willing to do it, there’s no reason you can’t succeed. And I am more than willing to be there with you every step of the way.”
“Thank you. It means a lot…but I don’t know…” she started.
“Let’s start right there,” I interrupted, “let’s start with positive thoughts and shutting out negativity. What’s the worst that can happen? Your positive thoughts will not come true. But that’s better than your negative thoughts coming true isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she smiled, wiping tears that were forming in her eyes.
“The next thing to work on,” I added, “is dressing confidently. Try bright colors and confidence clothes instead of conservative sarees.”
“How’s that going to help?” she said protesting.
“I thought we just agreed to be positive, and not question everything with cynicism.” I said making her smile shyly. “You either trust me or you don’t. Which is it?”
“I do,” she said interrupting me, and smiled a tentative smile that she probably hoped would convince me of her trust in me.
“Wait, let me complete,” I said holding up my hand, “you either trust me or you don’t. Not everything I say and suggest is going to make sense, but I have over 20 years’ experience. If you trust me to make a difference, you have to let me ok?”
She nodded, looking down at her feet, unsure of herself.
Holding her chin, I raised her face, “look me in the eyes, Shy” I said. When she looked up, it was all I could do to keep my boner in check and talk with a straight face, “what do you see in my eyes.”
“Care,” she said — that’s not care but lust I was thinking but didn’t say anything. “I don’t know why you are so caring and loving towards a failure,” she added starting to sob.
“Failure is a state of mind,” I replied, pulling her close into an embrace. “Like Thomas Alva Edison said before inventing the light bulb — ‘I haven’t failed, I have discovered 10,000 ways that won’t work’ — and then he found one that did and invented the light bulb.”
She looked up at me as I held her close, “you think I have hope?”
I took a chance and planted a kiss on her forehead. I wanted to go down her face and slide my tongue in her mouth, but I had to play my cards right. I was struggling to keep my boner from pressing against her body anyway. I kept my lips on her forehead as long as I could before pulling back, still holding her face in my hands
“I believe there’s a lot of hope,” I said. I held her tighter, pressing her boobs into my chest, and when she didn’t pull back, I added, “I have a lot of hope, if you will let me and follow what I say without questioning everything.”
“I promise,” she said resting her head on my shoulder.
“So let’s start with the clothes ok?” I added, “dress for confidence to make people take notice.”
The change in Shailaja since our last conversation had even me surprised. Her conservative sarees had turned into chudidars. Blouses when she wore a saree had gone backless with a much lower cut on the front. The sarees were being worn at least a couple inches below her navel. The effect was erotica on steroids.
I would give her a thumbs up on her looks when she was looking particularly sexy, getting a shy blush in return.
One day, I called her into my office and asked her to close the door behind her.
“What do you think about the progress we have made so far?” I asked her.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said smiling shyly and moving a lock of hair behind her ears, “do you see any change in performance?”
“Performance will come, trust me,” I said, “and trust the process. But have you noticed heads turn? How do you feel in the new look you have adopted?”
“Honestly,” she said blushing a bright pink, “it’s all so flattering. I was so embarrassed getting low cut backless blouses stitched. I took your advice and when the tailor suggested a neckline, I asked him to cut an inch wider and deeper. When I first wore the blouse, I felt naked and awkward.”
She paused, looking up at me shyly before dropping her eyes again, “but yes, I see how people notice me now. I feel sexy and confident and it feels good.”
“Good to know that you aren’t regretting it,” I said smiling. Her narration of the stitching of the blouse made me want to have been the tailor and gave me a major hardon, but luckily she was on the other side of the desk and I could unzip my pants and let Jr free without worry of being noticed.
“No…” she said, “I am not, honestly. I actually want to thank you for getting me out of my conservative comfort zone.”
“Ok then, it’s time to move on to the next step. Do you know swimming?” I asked.
“Yes, why?” she asked.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“Yes, why?” she asked again.
I handed her a gift box. “Before you open the box. What it contains is sexy and provocative. You can take offense to it and return it. Or you can trust that this is part of the process and meet me at this address with it at 6 am tomorrow.”
“I trust you,” she said taking the box, “whatever it is, I won’t feel offended.”
I had a raging hard-on from the moment I set my eyes on her wearing the swimsuit and wrap at the swimming pool of the club I am a member of. She smiled shyly and blushed when she saw me.
“Sexy!” I said eying her as I approached her, making her blush go two shades deeper.
“Stop it!” she said mock slapping my hand, “it wasn’t easy for me ok. I had to fight myself to do this. If my husband knew I was wearing something so revealing, he would have a heart attack.”
What I had gifted her was a sheer white two-piece bikini and a black floral wrap over it. Once wet, the bikini would leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and more than anything, I wanted to compare my imagination about her assets to reality.
I was already struggling to tear my eyes off her creamy cleavage through the wrap.
“What do you think ‘this’ is?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but I promised to trust and let you help me, so here I am and you are seeing EVERYTHING!” she said covering her breasts — where my eyes were — with her arms.
“Thanks for the trust and the gorgeous view.” I replied grinning sheepishly. “How do you feel?”
“Naked.” she replied, blushing again.
“I wish,” I said and when she looked up at me shocked, I held up my hand in defense, “just kidding ok?”
“Oh God,” she said blushing again, “So what’s the idea? Besides seeing me almost naked that is.” She asked.
Reaching towards her, I started untying her wrap.
“What are you doing?” she asked grabbing my hands, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.
“Trust me,” I said, pushing her hands apart, I untied the wrap and took it off.
“Now, what I want you to do is swim a lap in the pool. Then I want you to step out and take a walk around all around the pool. More importantly, I want you to watch the men there, particularly their crotch and the reaction you have on them. Ok?”
“Why? Everyone will see me naked. Once wet this won’t cover anything at all.”
“Just trust me ok? I will tell you why when you come back after the swim,” I said, “Oh and one more thing. I am going to film you on my phone and one month later, we will review it again and you will see the difference.”
“Hold my hands as I get in the water?” she asked, “I need all the courage I can muster.”
“Sure,” I said and took her extended hand in mine.
I walked her to the pool, looking at the men there. I let her get into the water before letting her hand go.
As I took my phone out and started shooting her, I could smell her aroma mixed with her perfume on the wrap that I was still holding.
I watched the men looking at her, pure lust in their eyes, a couple of them adjusting their erections in their swimming trunks. I watched her watch them too. When she got out of the water and walked a lap around the pool, every single man without exception had a boner pointing at her through their swimming trunks.
When she returned, I handed her the wrap and asked, “what did you notice?”
“Those are horny men,” she said giggling, and hurriedly putting on the wrap to cover her her soaking wet, nearly naked body. Before she put it on, I got a closeup video and eye full of her erect nipples straining against the swimsuit, visible through the transparent fabric, her dark bush clearly visible and a perfectly formed camel toe between her legs promising wonders if — no when — I managed to get past the swimsuit.
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean no?” she replied, “they were all looking at me like they wanted to fuck me, their cocks becoming hard in their trunks.”
“The lesson here is that you have a power over men.” I replied. “Most of them are decent folks with a family, who never stray or cheat. But they couldn’t help reacting to your body and that’s the power YOU have. Makes sense?” She nodded, a glint in her eyes telling me her apprehensions about my intentions were just proven unfounded and I had just vindicated her trust in me.
“So we are going to do this everyday for the next month ok?” I said, giving her another box. “This contains a few more swimsuits and bikinis. They are progressively sexier and showy.”
I pulled up a video on my phone and watched her gulp with eyes going wide, “The last one is just strings like this that will wrap over your boobs, and go into your slits. It has no cloth to cover anything. The idea is for you to discover the power of your sexuality and your body. But if you don’t want to wear it, I understand.”
A petrified look on her deep red face, she replied, “I will wear these naked type bikinis just in front of you, but not in public, please.”
“I am ok with that for now,” I said struggling to keep a straight face. “Oh and I suggest you shave down there, or should I do that for you?”
“Stop it,” she said blushing and slapping my hand, “I can do it.”
“I know all this is scary,” I said, “but there is a method to my madness. I think part of your lack of self-confidence is that you question your ability as a woman in a man’s world. Hopefully, doing this for the next month or so will help you overcome that apprehension.”
“Ok, but only in front of you.” she said, taking the box from me blushing so red, I was wondering if the wetness between her legs was from the pool water or her own juices. I hoped it was the latter.
Shylaja’s Perspective – What Does He Want?
Things had been going from bad to worse for a while. I was a successful professional in my home town before my arranged marriage brought me to the big city.
Disagreements in the family meant my dad lost a lot of our ancestral property, then had a heart attack before eventually passing away.
My husband’s layoff and the mounting bills and loan repayments meant I had to start working again, in an environment that was nothing like my old office.
With every passing day, week and month, the feeling in my gut that I was heading for disaster was growing. My colleagues at work ranged from snobs and arrogant women to horny young men whose roving eyes made no secret of what they wanted to do with my body. I knew I was being mentally undressed and fucked by many of my colleagues multiple times everyday.
On the domestic front too, frictions were increasing. My husband loves me, but the financial pressures were straining our marriage. Our sex life was an indicator of the change.
The night of our marriage, neither of us had slept a wink.
We had made love just thrice, but he had devoured my body all night.
He had spent over an hour in foreplay and even fingered and ate my pussy to orgasm before taking my virginity and fucking me.
He lasted just 30 seconds once he put it in, but what came before that was incredible.
When he was finished creaming my pussy for the first time, he called me the tastiest wife ever.
Since then, we made love at least once everyday and he ate me for at least half an hour every-single-day — only the last 30 seconds or so of it was him actually fucking me.
But I don’t recall a single day when he didn’t give an orgasm while either fingering or eating my pussy.
We were two peas in a pod when it came to sexual compatibility.
We were so in love, that we wouldn’t miss any opportunity to make love — even if it was a quickie or a blowjob.
But the impact of the difficult times was that our sex had gone from daily to a couple times a week to once or twice a month.
And then there was my boss — a handsome middle-aged man in his 40s — who was most understanding and seemed to have more confidence in me than I did myself.
He wasn’t judgmental like others and our friendship seemed only natural. He felt like family and struck up a good easy relationship with my husband and in-laws when he came home for dinner. So, when he offered to work with me on my self-confidence, I had hope.
I must confess that, when he first presented me with a sexy swim suit, I couldn’t help questioning his intentions. I had the sinking feeling that he too was one of the hornies lusting for my body.
And yet, I was determined to make this work. I didn’t have a choice. If I couldn’t make it work, I was facing losing our house. So, with a lump in my throat I showed up in the swimsuit and wrap he had presented me with.
I expected him to make a move to seduce me when I went to the swimming pool, but he was the perfect gentleman. His logic after my swimming lap made perfect sense. The swimsuits he presented me were erotic to say the least. Wearing sexy clothes and showing skin wasn’t me. I was always used to dressing conservatively, but his logic had convinced me to give this a go.
Whether it helped or not was another story, but I was sure as hell going to try. After all, he didn’t expect me to do that in public. It would just be him seeing my almost naked body. He had proved himself to be a gentleman with my best intentions at heart.
Over the next month, lesser and lesser of my body was covered by progressively skimpy swimsuits and bikinis.
After the first week, my boss convinced me to wear the swimsuits at the public pool…at least till my private parts were completely exposed.
Agreeing to that was the best decision I made.
The lust in the eyes of the men there, their erections (which they stopped trying to hide and some even stroked themselves while I was there) had gone from making me feel dirty to making me feel flattered and even aroused.
It was the last day of the third week of ‘project swimsuit’ as we called it. Next week would be the string bikini that would show all my private parts and he agreed for me to wear that only for him. This week had been such a turn on though. I was dripping wet every single day watching the men’s erections. On this last day of the ‘public show’ week, something different happened.
There was just this one other regular guy at the pool besides my boss and I. He had been around almost everyday for the past three weeks and had complimented on my beauty and figure multiple times. My boss and I had joined him for juice and snacks after the ‘show’ a few times too.
Stroking his cock openly in his trunks was his routine that I had come to expect. As usual, from the time I took off the wrap and put my close to naked body on show, he had a boner that he didn’t bother hiding.
While I was swimming, I watched him stroke his hardness. But when I came out of the water, he sat up on his knees on the lounge chair and pulled his swimming trunks down.
My jaw dropped and I saw in amazement as his naked cock popped out. He was at least an inch or two bigger than my husband and I could see the pulsating veins on his shaft. Looking me up and down my dripping wet body, he stroked himself to orgasm.
I watched transfixed as he groaned and spurt after spurt of cum erupted from his cock.
He thanked me as he pulled his swimming trunks back up. What looked like a minute had taken close to fifteen minutes and I was so aroused, my pussy was dripping wet.
As turned on as I was, I could have sworn my boss too had a raging erection that he tried hiding behind his satchel.
A part of me felt sad that my husband didn’t find me half as attractive and that I didn’t turn him on the way I seemed to turn on other men.
I am not sure if it was the lack of sex at home or my growing lack of inhibition, but I half-wished that my boss would have been one of the men jerking himself off. I half-wished he would make a move, but he didn’t do either.
If I am completely honest, I was disappointed that he was the perfect gentleman and returned home imagining what it would be like to be taken by him. I had an orgasm when I imagined his hardness entering me — and I wasn’t even touching myself.
The last week was a different kind of erotic experience for me. When I showed up at his place on the first day of the last week, he was dressed in a robe. He led me to his bedroom, sat on the bed and showed me the bathroom where I could go to change in to my “show everything” apology of a bikini.
As I was changing, my heart was thudding in my chest. Was I in his bedroom for a reason? Was he going to make a move today? If he did, would I resist? Half of me wanted him to take me even if I resisted. By the time I had changed, my pussy was glistening wet.
I gulped when I stepped out of the bathroom. He had got rid of the robe and was sitting on the bed in his underwear, the projection in the front putting his erection and arousal on show for me.
As I walked tentatively out of the bathroom to stand in front of me, his eyes went up and down my body, taking in my near nakedness in from head to toe. I watched his erection grow in stunned disbelief. Clearly he was even bigger than that guy at the pool — hell he looked to be massive!
But he neither touched himself, nor did he let me see more than the erection. He made me turn around for him and admired my body.
“Even I am not immune to the power of your body,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, pointing at his raging hardon, “see the power you have?”
I barely nodded, not trusting my voice.
Throughout the week, this scene repeated over and over. By the time the week was over, I was sexually frustrated and need to see and feel his hardness inside me.
That my husband seemed completely disinterested in sex meant I had to masturbate to relieve the building tension every night after he fell asleep.
I am ashamed and embarrassed to say that each time I masturbated, I imagined my boss and the orgasms were incredible — way more intense than any orgasm I’d had while my husband and I had made love.
I knew I was going down a slippery slope and being unfair to both my husband and to a boss who had treated me with nothing less than respect and care. But how does one master feelings and the urges of a deprived body?
The Naked Truth
“You have been doing better haven’t you?” I asked her. We were sitting in my office doing her monthly 1 on 1, reviewing her performance in the last month.
“Yes, the numbers have improved,” she said, “thanks to you.”
“No, thanks to you,” I corrected. “I showed the direction, but you had to make a huge leap of faith to get out of your comfort zone.”
“Yes, it wasn’t easy wearing those sexy swimming suits and watching men stroke themselves looking at me.” She conceded. “The hardest though was letting you watch me all but naked.”
“It wasn’t easy for me either. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted every single day.”
“If we are being so completely honest with each other,” she said blushing, “I was tempted too and wondered what you were feeling.”
“Now you know.” I said, and didn’t tell her about all the videos from the pool and my bedroom that I jerked off to everyday.
Instead, I said, “but I wanted to talk about something else. I wanted to review the sessions with you too.” I took out my cell phone on which I had recorded Shy everyday, and played the first and last video from the pool. “Do you notice the change in your body language? On the first day, you were so uncomfortable, you were almost shaking. Now, on the last day, though you were almost naked, you were full of confidence and actually enjoying the guy jerking off to you. You looked absolutely and irresistibly HOT!”
“You think so?” She asked blushing.
“I do, and so do all the men. I am not guessing. Every single one of them asked if you were my girl and if they could have a night with you. Nobody could resist your power, not even me,” I said. “What I want to ask you though, is through it all, how did you feel?”
“Aroused.” Shy replied blushing even more. “Thankfully, I was wet from the swimming otherwise it would have been quite embarrassing.”
“You were that wet?” I asked. Shy just nodded. “So are you ready to go to the next level?”
“Yes,” she said, no hesitation in her voice anymore. She was actually eager now.
“I want to introduce you to ‘The Naked Truth’.” I said. “It’s a book written by the female CEO of a Fortune 100 company, who started out a very self-conscious woman low on confidence — pretty much like you. She said what changed her was what she calls ‘the naked truth.’
“It’s a proven fact that we are all our worst critics. And within that, we are most critical of our appearance and body right?” I asked and Shy nodded.
“So, what this lady did was, whenever she had a tough meeting or presentation, she would stand stark naked in front of a mirror after her shower and imagine having the conversation or doing the presentation naked. Her mind naturally did the critical thing of reminding her of all her flaws — real and imagined. And because she was doing a presentation or having a conversation, it was like the person evaluating the presentation was critically evaluating her body. She would imagine all types of erotic situations and her challenge was to not get distracted and to stay focused on her presentation or meeting. Initially, she would be revolted by her body. As her confidence grew, she would be aroused imaging all those men looking at her naked. Then she had to masturbate imagining them taking her. Over time, her confidence grew and eventually, she was able to go through with the mirror test with a straight face, however aroused she might be. That taught her to handle tough situations because she had overcome her worst critic — herself. Makes sense?”
“Yes, totally!” Shy said, looking excited.
“So I want you to try that if you want to.”
“I’d love to try it,” she said.
“Everyday, after you take a shower or bath, do not dry your body with a towel. Stand wet and naked in front of your mirror imagining a conversation or meeting or presentation you are doing, thinking of everyone else in the meeting reacting to your body — whether it is men or women. Try to overcome the distraction and stay focused on your meeting. Ok?”
She was blushing and looking down when she nodded.
“I can’t do this anymore Sir,” Shy said handing me her resignation.
“Why?” I said, shocked at this turn of events. “You have been doing so well. Everyone is talking about the turn around and the potential they see in you over the past month and a half — pretty much since we started going to the pool — but especially in the last week since you started practicing The Naked Truth.”
“It’s just that…” she hesitated, “never mind Sir, it’s just not… I can’t do this anymore.”
“Why?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“And I thought we were friends who shared everything.” I said.
“We are, but this is too personal and sexual to share,” she added, “please just accept my resignation.”
“I really don’t want to do that,” I said honestly. “I really wish you could trust me enough to explain what this is all about and why you want to leave.”
Shy was sobbing by now. “Come on Shy, you owe me that much.” I said, coming over on to her side of the desk and holding her, rubbing her arm reassuringly. Eventually, she shared what her problem was.
Shy Opens Up To Her Naked Truth
Shylaja’s Perspective…
While you was explaining the Naked Truth theory, I was getting turned on. Given the past month’s experience, I took that as a positive sign. That it was my self-confidence at work. I was already sure this was going to work.
So the next morning, I took a shower and didn’t towel my body dry like I usually did.
Water dripping off my naked body, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom imagining myself having a 1 on 1 with you.
I remembered how yours eyes were roving over my body in your bedroom, the hunger in them as you looked up and down my near naked body.
I imagined your eyes lingering hungrily on my breasts and instantly, my nipples hardened.
I imagined you staring hungrily at my pussy and licking your lips with lust. I was instantly wet.
I remembered your erection and imagined you stripping and releasing your cock like the guy at the pool had.
I imagined you stroking yourself like the man at the pool had.
As imagined me fingering myself to orgasm while you watched.
My hand unconsciously went to my pussy and I started masturbating.
However, in my imagination, while you were watching me masturbate, it was also your fingers that were in my pussy. I couldn’t help wondering if you would like to lick my pussy like my husband used to.
I imagined you stroking yourself till you came while watching me masturbate.
But that’s not where it stopped.
Just before you were about to cum, I imagined you stepping up to me with your hardness just inches from my face.
Instead of imagining you wasting your cum, I imagined me opening my mouth and you shooting your load in my mouth.
I imagined myself swallowing your cum.
After you were spent, I imagined myself giving you a blowjob while stroking your cock and balls with my hands.
In my imagination, I had licked, sucked and kissed every inch of your shaft and balls by the time you were hard again.
And I then imagined you groaning as I sucked and stroked you before shooting a second load deep down my throat for me to swallow.
I wondered what your cum would taste like.
I couldn’t help masturbating to orgasm right there in the shower.
Work was a torment because every time I saw you, my pussy would go wet.
I masturbated to orgasm twice in the ladies room.
Yet, by the time I got home, I was turned on again.
Cooking was torture and by the time my husband came home and we had dinner, I couldn’t resist my body’s need anymore.
I literally jumped him and forced him to fuck me.
When my husband fucked me, I imagined it was you and had two back to back orgasms before my husband emptied his load in my pussy. I imagined it was your cum flooding deep inside my womb.
Over the next few days, my imagination during the Naked Truth practices became increasingly vivid and suggestive.
In my imagination during the practice, you and I have done things that even my husband and I haven’t. For example, you fucked and emptied your load in all three of my holes. My husband doesn’t even touch my ass cheeks.
Yesterday, while my husband fucked me, I imagined you were fucking me making my husband watch. And that, to me, was the last straw.
After my husband fell asleep, I lay there ashamed. I was having all these erotic thoughts about a man who had been nothing but nice to me. I was mentally cheating on my husband and not regretting it. By the time I fell asleep, I decided I had to resign.
“I am so sorry Shy,” I lied, feeling thankful for the table between us hiding my raging erection. My balls were aching by now. “I certainly had no intention of causing problems for you with this.”
“I know Sir,” Shy said between sobs, wiping her tears.
“I didn’t think this would happen here in India, as different as we are culturally.” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the lady who wrote the story spoke of a similar initial reaction.”
“What did she do?”
“Well, she faced her demons,” I said, “but in her case, her boss was gay. Once she had faced her demons and slept with another colleague, the reality — which wasn’t as pleasant — replaced her imagination. She was then able move on.”
“Oh!” was all Shy could say.
“Well, that’s not a practical solution in your case,” I said sighing, “it’s a pity really, because you were doing so well and I was actually thinking you were close to a promotion if your present trend continued for another few months…”
“I want to…” She started saying.
“I understand,” I said, “and under the circumstances, I have to accept the resignation.”
“No, I meant I want to face my demons.”
“What?”
“I trust you completely Sir. Whatever you do will be for my good” She said, “I want you to do everything you did in my imagination. I really want to do this and get past it.”
“I don’t trust myself Shy,” I said, “with a woman as beautiful and sexy as you naked before me…I don’t trust myself to be a gentleman.”
“Please Sir,” she said, “that string bikini hid nothing. You have practically already seen me naked. And in my imagination, you were not a gentleman either. Please don’t say no Sir.”
“But how?” I asked, “we can’t do that kind of thing in the office and it can’t be at your place with your husband there. I know how hard it was for me that last week you were almost naked in my bedroom. If invite you over to my place again, knowing you would be completely naked before me and after hearing all the things you have been imagining, I will only want to do one thing.”
“He is going out of town on work for two weeks,” she said, “We can do it at my place.”
If there was any doubt at all before now, there was none anymore. I knew I had her — for two weeks at least.
After work, I drove her to her place in my car. We talked for a while and she went into even more graphic detail about all the things she imagined me doing, ending with cumming inside her repeatedly and getting her pregnant.
Eventually, it was time to face her demons. She led me to her bedroom asked me to make myself comfortable. I sat on the bed as she went off to take her shower.
I was so turned on that I had to jerk myself off while she was showering. I had grabbed some tissue paper from her coffee table. I came in it and snuck out of her bedroom. Finding the guest toilet, I flushed the cum filled tissue before getting back to her bed to wait for her.
Eventually, I heard the shower stop. A couple minutes later, she opened the door. There she stood, draped in a towel, her wet body dripping water. I gulped and made no attempt to hide the effect seeing her that way had on me. I had worn tracks and my erection was quite evident.
“You just going to sit there and stare?” She asked.
“You’re cheating,” I said eventually.
“What do you mean?”
“You are supposed to be naked, not wearing a towel.” I replied.
“I can’t take the towel off!!!” She said, her face turning beet red.
“I better leave.” I said.
“No wait.” She said, “I want you to take it off. The way I imagine it, you try to take my towel off, I resist at first, but then you strip it off making me naked.”
“Oh…ok.” I said getting off the bed and walking towards her. “You better start practicing the presentation and whatever I do, you have to keep going ok?”
She nodded and started going over her presentation, her eyes glued to my crotch. Walking up to her, I kissed her neck, making her gasp.
“Is the gasp part of the presentation?” I asked, continuing to kiss her neck and lower down her torso till I reached the edge of the towel.
She struggled but went back to her presentation. I kissed her boobs over the towel while my hands cupped and caressed her ass. She was struggling to stay with the presentation so she closed her eyes tight and continued as I pressed my face to her boob, moaning hungrily.
“God Shy,” I moaned into her towel-covered boobs, “you make me so hard. I want you to know just how hard I am for you.”
She moaned and I scolded her again about staying focused on the presentation.
“I am going to strop naked and let you feel my hardness,” I said making her gasp again. Clamping her eyes shut even tighter, she gathered herself back to the presentation.
I took my shirt off. Dropping my tracks, I pulled my undies down, freeing my aching hardness.
Going behind her, I cupped her boobs over the towel and kissed her neck and back, my erection pressed against her ass.
I squeezed her boobs as I rubbed my shaft against her, continuing to kiss and lick her back. Her breath was ragged and erratic. Her chest was heaving. She was fighting hard to stay on the presentation but loud moans of naked desire punctuated her speech.
I untied the towel and grabbed her boobs. In the mirror opposite where I was, I could see her naked pussy. Lifting the towel, I let me shaft rub up and down her ass crack.
I turned her around to face me. My erection was now rubbing against her soaking we pussy opening. She still had her eyes shut tight as she kept mumbling through her presentation. I kissed her all over her face, eyes, nose, ears and chin. Shy gasped at first and then groaned in a mixture of pleasure and anticipation.
“You stay focused on the presentation.” I said, rubbing my erection up and down her opening, “while I focus on this gorgeous body of yours.”
“I can’t.” She replied.
“Then I should stop.” I said.
“No, I don’t want you to” she said.
“Ok, then tell me what you want me to do.”
“In my imagination, you kiss me while playing with my boobs and nipples.” she said and then added, “by the way, what is happening between our legs wasn’t part of my imagination, but I like how it feels.”
Her mouth was hungrily waiting for mine when I kissed her. God this was a dream come true and my cock was aching to enter her.
I started rubbing her pussy with my cock even harder as I cupped her boobs.
She opened her mouth and her tongue found mine.
I shamelessly and hungrily ate her mouth, sucking on her tongue and drinking her saliva. She did the same to me with equal passion.
Her nipples hardened as soon as I touched them. Her boobs were soft and the combination of hard and soft was just irresistible.
After kissing her hard and playing with her boobs and nipples for minutes, I broke the kiss, both of us gasping for air.
The head of my cock was pushing against her pussy opening and I let it stay there — almost but not quite inside her yet.
“God I want you so bad, there’s only one way this ends if we don’t stop now.” I said, continuing to pinch her tits.
“I hope it ends the way it does in my imagination.” she said between gasps and moans.
Taking one nipple in my mouth, I started sucking and biting hungrily, while continuing to play with her other boob.
“Have you wanted this too?” she asked pressing my face into her boob.
“From the day I first saw you.” I mumbled into her nipple, “you have no idea what all I have wanted to do with and in you,” I mumbled into her nipple.
“Do everything you have imagined. Don’t worry about my imagination. We have two weeks to recreate that.” she groaned.
My hand went down between her legs and I started caressing her where her clit would be with my thumb. She was already soaking wet.
“That’s not the shower water.” she said, reading my mind.
“Then I want to taste it,” I said. Picking her up, I started towards the guest bedroom.
“Not that way, I want you to take me in my bed,” she said, “where so far only my husband has fucked me.” So I led her to her own bedroom and lay her down.
Spreading her legs wide, I buried my face between her legs, my tongue licking the soaking wet opening of her shaved pussy.
“Fuck you are even more delicious than I ever imagined,” I groaned into her pussy.
“My husband’s tastiest wife ever,” she said giggling.
“I want you to cum in my mouth,” I moaned, “I want to taste your orgasm.”
“I was kind of hoping you would want to,” she said blushing but started thrusting her pussy into my mouth.
Withing minutes, I was eating her hungrily, my tongue fucking her, my lips sucking on her clit, driving her wild and making her wriggle as her body inched towards an orgasm.
I entered her with two fingers and started finger fucking her while also sucking on her swollen clit.
That drove her over the edge and when she came, she squirted into my mouth and her body started shaking.
I struggled to keep her pussy in my mouth drinking her sweet honey.
She erupted shooting fountains of squirt right in my mouth and kept my mouth tightly wrapped around her pussy, not wanting to waste even a drop. Her cum kept erupting from her pussy into my mouth for close to a minute, and I hungrily drank every drop of her delicious orgasm.
“I am so sorry for the mess,” she said embarrassed after her orgasm passed, “I have never done that before.”
“That was the most delicious orgasm ever. I haven’t tasted cum that’s sweeter. Keep cumming like that I could eat you right through 15 days I have you.”
“No I want you to do other things too,” she groaned.
“Later,” I said licking my lips, “Right now, you have just whetted my appetite with the yummiest thing I have ever tasted and I want more of this…lots more.”
I continued eating her for another hour, through four more squirting orgasms, each longer and more earth-shattering than the previous. I wasted none of her honey, drinking every drop right out of her squirting pussy.
By her reaction and eagerness, she seemed to enjoying feeding me her squirts.
I could have eaten her all day, but she finally pushed me back saying she is hungry too and it’s about time I fed her too.
“My GOD! You are HUGEEE!!! At least twice my husband’s size” she gushed, for the first time really noticing the size.
Taking my shaft in her hand and stroking it from based to tip.
Taking the head in her mouth, she started sucking and licking me and squeezed my balls gently with one hand while the other continued to stroke the part of the shaft that she couldn’t take in her mouth.
For close to 15 minutes, she sucked and stroked me to full hardness.
“You want to cum in my mouth?” she asked.
“No, I want to cum in your delicious pussy,” I groaned.
“Oh God yes, I want that too.” she said,
“Without condom,” I added.
“I have imagined how your cum will feel when you cum,” she said grinning, “I wouldn’t want you to even think about a condom.” Taking me back in her mouth and increasing the intensity of sucking me.
“Are you on the pill?”
“No,” she said, “but if I get pregnant, I will be happy it was your sperm. You couldn’t give me anything more than a part of you in me.”
I pushed her back when I was ready to enter her and lay her back on the bed.
Spreading her legs, I rubbed my pole against her sopping wet opening, lubricating it.
As I pushed my hardness against her opening, I was amazed at how tight she was.
Her mouth opened in a silent O as I pushed into her, inch by inch, pulling back a bit before pushing further into her.
“Oh god, it won’t fit,” she groaned.
After nearly a minute, I was buried inside her to the hilt, my shaft filling her deep.
“You are touching places inside me I didn’t even know existed,” she moaned. I pulled almost all the way out before shoving it all the way back into her. Then I pulled out again and thrust hard to the hilt inside her.
“Aaaaah” she squealed in pleasure, encouraging me. Having jerked off once already, I knew I wouldn’t be cumming soon, but I wanted to make this last as long as I possibly could. As I slowly started increasing my tempo, her screams turned into grunts and then moans.
When her back started arching in rhythm with my thrusts, I knew she her orgasm was close.
I started hammering hard inside her, increasing my tempo further, drilling her hard and deep.
“Yes, yes, oh God yes,” she groaned as I drilled her. She grabbed my face and kissed me long and deep.
It took four minutes of hard pounding before her body started shaking.
“Oh God, I am going to cum,” she moand in my mouth.
Arching her back, she let out an animal scream as a violent orgasm took hold of her.
I kept fucking her right through her orgasm, making it last. As the first wave started passing another shook her and then another and another, each bigger and more violent than the previous.
I don’t know if she mad multiple back-to-back orgasms or one massive one, but she kept cumming for minutes and I kept plowing her pussy till she collapsed totally spent.
“Oh god…. oh god…. oh god….” she kept moaning, cheering me on as I pounded her hard, inching closer and closer to my own climax.
“Please sir, cum in me,” she begged as she felt my cock stat twitching inside her.
When it came, I buried myself all the way into her and let go, filling her with spurt after spurt of my cum, flooding her for close to a minute before I collapsed on her spent.
“Oh fuck!” she moaned, “I feel your cum inside me. That was even better than my wildest imaginations.”
“You are incredible, Shy,” I said, kissing her.
“No,” she said as I started pulling out of her, “please don’t pull out. I want all your cum to stay inside me. Give it a chance to fertilize my egg.”
We both drifted off to sleep, my limp cock still buried inside her pussy.
When I woke up, she was laying naked on her elbow, looking at me.
“Regretting it?” I asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Enjoyed it?”
“Enjoyed it? WOW! This was the most mind blowing sex of my life. I would have thought my orgasms would have made that clear.”
“I am glad. I wanted you to feel as much happiness as I could give you.”
“What about you? Regreting it?
“No,” I said, “just wondering if you’d want to do it again.”
“I was also wondering the same thing,” she said blushing.
“But I want to eat you for much longer,”
“I’d like that,” she said shyly, “I love how you eat me. Eat as much as you want.”
“For hours and hours, through orgasm after squirting orgasm.”
“You really like the taste of my cum don’t you?” I nodded, “I am ok with feeding you to your heart’s content, but I want more than just one more load of your cum inside my pussy. I also want to taste your cum, and to complete my imaginations, I need you to also fuck my ass.”
“We will see how many loads I can give you.” I said getting on top of her.
I proceeded to eat her through six back to back orgasms over the next two hours — she quirted during the last four of them before I started fucking her again.
Every time she came close to an orgasm, I would pull out and eat her pussy through the orgasm.
I fucked her in every imaginable position. After I had creamed her pussy three more times, she reminded me that I also had fucked her ass and feed her my cum.
I creamed her ass half an hour later. By the time she sucked me to an orgasm that night, swallowing my cum, we had been fucking for hours. She and I had both lost count of the number of orgasms she had.
As we lay together catching our breath and caressing each others’ naked, sweat soaked bodies, she said, “this was so much better than my imagination.”
“I am glad.” I said grinning, “but I am hoping you aren’t too tired.”
“You want to fuck more?”
“All night if you are up for it.”
“Let’s order in some dinner then.”
We showered together while waiting for food and I fucked for close to half an hour before creaming her pussy in the shower.
Once the food arrived, we ate naked and after I finished my food, I ate her pussy to an orgasm while she tried to eat.
Back in bed, we fucked throughout the night and all through the weekend taking short breaks to recharge our batteries, visit the bathroom and get something to eat.
Before going to sleep in the early hours of Monday morning, she kissed me.
“I didn’t think a man could do it so many times,” she said.
“I didn’t think I could either,” I replied, “but you are just irresistible and keep making me hard. I just can’t have enough of you.”
“We have two weeks,” she said smiling, “take as much as you want.”
“I intend to both take and give.”
The days that her husband was away, we fucked through half the night on working days. Over the next weekend too, I fucked her throughout the day and night on both days.
God alone knows how many loads of my cum her pussy took during those 15 days.
It’s been six months now and, even though her husband is back, we have continued to fuck at every opportunity.
Late night ‘work’ at my place, invented work trips, even quickies in the office weren’t off limits.
Neither could have enough of the other.
Today, I handed her a well-earned promotion and she announced her pregnancy.
“Does this change anything?” I asked, wondering what she might expect now that she was pregnant.
“Only that my husband is thrilled thinking he got me pregnant.” she smiled, “you know it’s yours right?” I nodded and smiled.
“So we’re on for tonight?” she asked.
“Only if you promise to make it an extra special. This calls for a ‘celebration’ night.” I said winking.
“Sure,” she said, “but do you think you will still want this after the baby is born.”
“With your lactating boobs also feeding me your milk? Heck yeah!!!”
“Good, because I want a few more babies from you, Sir.” she said grinning, “at least 4-5, maybe more.”
I smiled at how far she had come from the insecure girl that everyone wanted me to fire.
THE END
SEE HER GALLERY
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Some of my stories are loosely based on real-life incidents, but details are fictionalized. My stories involve unsafe sexual acts. I do not condone unprotected sex and recommend readers to always practice safe sex. The risk is not worth it. These are fantasies and meant for entertainment only. My stories are my hobby — an expression of my erotic side. I mean no disrespect to women featured in my stories. If you know the woman in the story, please write to me and the pictures will be taken down — no questions asked.
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