Maiden Workout0 (0)
In Pics: Tahmeena | Source: Web | Part of the series, Women in My Life.
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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!
I had earned scholarships in both sports and merit quotas — but it was in an out-of-town college. Not wanting to stay in a hostel, two other under-grad friends and I decided to rent and share an apartment. Within a week of moving to the new town, we were sort of settled.
I was the oldest in the group in my early 20s. The rest were teenagers. At our age, housekeeping and the upkeep of an apartment isn’t exactly the top priority at that age, and soon the apartment was a mess, reeking of beer, spoiled fast food, and in a state of general disarray with stuff lying around everywhere.
Radha — or Radhamma, as everyone called her — came with the recommendation from the landlord from whom the three of us had rented the apartment.
She had been the maid for the previous tenants, a family who had just vacated the place — and what mattered most to teenagers on a tight budget was that she wasn’t too expensive.
By day three of Radhamma taking charge, the apartment was clean; clothes were washed, folded and put away in our respective closets; stale food was no longer to be found; and we had fresh, home cooked food.
The biggest and most unexpected plus point of Radhamma was that she was a mother of three herself and instinctively took charge like a mother would — scolding us kids in a playful way when we didn’t mind or threw things around the apartment, even making sure we studied.
Months went by Radhamma became a part of the family, literally taking care of us hormonal teens.
Coming from a poor family, she did not have the means for personal grooming, and was often disheveled and in tattered clothes.
So we started presenting her make up, sarees, etc., during festivals and other occasions, by way of bonuses. Two of the guys spoke with their family, who sent over old (but in good condition) clothes that they have Radhamma.
She was most appreciative, but always insisted that she would prefer things like school bags and supplies for her three childrens’ education.
We were on allowances and money was always tight, but we pooled in money and started buying school supplies or giving her some extra each month for her kids.
One day, when I stepped into the kitchen, I saw her teary-eyed, wiping her eyes with her pallu.
“What’s the matter Radhamma,” I asked.
“Nothing Baba,” she said, trying to dismiss it. When I pressed, I learned that her she had to pay Rs 15,000 to the school — money that she did not have.
For many, 15k may not seem like a lot, but for us college kids on an allowance, it was a lot of money.
I requested dad explaining the situation and he sent it over. Radhamma was very thankful and promised to return the money soon.
On a personal front, I was struggling to adjust to a new location, and living by myself without the support system from family members that we take for granted when living with family.
Homesick and feeling lonely, I was feeling depressed and was fast losing interest in both sports and studies.
My college schedules were such that I was often at home when Radhamma finished her work. When time permitted, we often talked for a few minutes.
She was easy to talk to and a good listener. Since I was homesick with nobody to share stuff with, I started talking to her as if she was an aunt or a senior family member. I was surprised at the practical insights she brought to the conversation.
I was soon pouring my heart out about Anushka, my girlfriend from my previous college.
“Long distance relationships aren’t easy you know,” I said one day, “she keeps asking me if I have met someone here that I fancy. I didn’t think she was the suspicious type honestly. Why can’t she trust me like I trust her.”
“I don’t know about that Baba,” Radhamma said, “I was married when I was 18 and had two children at your age. No boyfriend. No far relationship.”
Over weeks and months, in bits and pieces, I had divulged probably way too much information and way too many intimate details about my past sex life.
One day, she told me to stop bragging about my sexual prowess. She thought everybody believes he is the best and exaggerate their performance but nobody is.
She said she didn’t believe a word of things like the number of times I had done it in a day with each of the women, my claims about the size of my member or the reactions I got about it from the women I had been with.
We had talked about my sex life at length over the weeks and months, so one day, I asked her about hers…
“Ever been with anyone other than your husband Radhamma?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Haaaaw, chi,” she replied slapping my hand, “no baba, only my husband.”
“Is he good to you?”
“Meaning Baba?” she sounded confused.
“Does he take good care of you? Do you do it often?”
“Chi Baba, what are you asking.” she said embarrassed.
Then after a small pause she added, “men don’t think about us women Baba.”
“No?” I asked, “Why do you say that?”
She hesitated some more before continuing, “sometimes, I when go home after working in so many house I very tied. But I cooking for everybody and sometimes I want sleep. But if he wants it, I not say no. But good thing is no time.”
“No time?” I asked.
“Like, ummm…” she thought how to explain in English, “fast fast. Up saree, down panty and 5 min over.”
“So he does not make you happy in bed?”
Radhamma blushed but laughed to cover it up, and I realized that the concept of a woman’s sexual pleasure was alien to many and she probably had never had an orgasm during sex with her husband.
Horny and hormonal teen that I was, I couldn’t help imagining Radhamma’s husband banging her doggy style without even bothering to take her clothes off — just lifting her saree above her hips, pulling her panties down and fucking her till he came.
I wondered whether she masturbated or whether that was considered taboo for women to do, and what impact the lack of sexual satisfaction had on lives of women like her.
While I hadn’t consciously thought of her sexually, let’s face it — which horny teenager hasn’t fantasized about sex with the maid? Imagining her husband fucking her and her masturbating afterwards would leave me with a boner/
One day, after about 6 or 8 months of Radhamma working at our place, I woke up with the usual morning boner. My hand my boner were engaged in a very engaged dual when Radhamma walked in the door to pick up the clothes for washing.
“Baba, lock the door,” she said taken aback, turning away and walking out the room, closing the door behind her.
I was just as taken aback and hurriedly covered up and ran into the adjoining bathroom. I avoided Radhamma all morning, totally embarrassed and awkward.
“Sorry Radhamma,” I had said sitting next to her when she had finished work, having decided to get the awkward conversation out of the way.
Blushing and visibly awkward, she said, “its ok Baba, all young boys same thing.”
Then after a pause she said blushing, “You good, big.”
After a moment’s confusion, I realized she was complimenting the size of my dick. All I could do was thank her for the compliment, red faced.
“I think you lie about big,” she said blushing even more and smiling sheepishly, “make girlfriend happy.”
“So, should I lock the door or no,” I asked her playfully.
“Haaaw… naughty boy,” she said slapping my hand but her face had turned beet red.
So I decided not to lock the door while masturbating after all.
She often saw me masturbating but never mentioned anything.
One day, she stood by the door watching till I came, an expression of pure lust and hunger on her face.
For my part, I locked eyes with her and jerked off looking straight at her till I came all over the sheets covering the bed.
Once spent, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up. When I returned to the bedroom, Radhamma was peeling the sheets off the bed and carried them away to wash. My teenage mind imagined her licking my cum off the sheets before washing them.
While not exactly a sex diva, Radhamma wasn’t bad looking.
She was busty and often wore undersized blouses — probably hand downs from the women in the houses where she worked — that showed considerable cleavage when she bent down to clean.
Inevitably, I stared and fantasized and started masturbating while thinking about enjoying Radhamma’s dusky and curvy body.
My furtive glances down her blouse became more overt over time and she often caught me staring at her cleavage or navel.
Whenever that happened, her eyes would immediately move down to my shorts and she would actually smile shyly at my boner, instead of feeling offended.
A couple months later, Radhamma was in financial trouble again and I helped her with Rs 10,000 more. Before the year was up, Radhamma had borrowed money a few more times and owed me over Rs 75,000.
While I understood her situation, I was beginning to wonder if I was being taken advantage of and if I would ever see the money returned.
One day, when she asked for an advance on her monthly pay,
I decided to confront her.
I gave her the money, but asked her how she planned to repay the debt of over Rs 75k.
“I don’t know Baba,” she replied honestly, breaking down. “Husband got job in factory, but not bring money home. He drink all. Some money you gave I use for doctor. He get fighting, hurt. I take to hospital.”
One more uneventful week passed before she caught me masturbating again.
I had been masturbating thinking about her, and seeing her watch me masturbate was such a turn on. She left to attend to cooking after I ejaculated and was done.
The next day, my friends had left for college. I had cricket selections the previous day. Out of practice and not having worked out in a long time, my body was aching by the time I got home and felt even more sore by morning.
Having decided to bunk college and stay in bed, I was sleeping when Radhamma came over for the house work.
I was woken up by the sound of utensils in the kitchen and got out of bed. I was only in my underwear with my morning boner jutting outward proudly when I walked into the kitchen for water.
Radhamma’s eyes lingered on my erection before she turned away.
After work was done, we were drinking tea when she brought up the topic of the money she owed.
“It is not a small amount Radhamma, and I am worried.”
“I know Baba,” she said, genuine desperation in her eyes and words. Looking down, she fiddled with the edge of her pallu for a bit before saying, “I do more work not charge?”
“What extra work is there to do Radhamma?” I asked, “from getting groceries to taking care of the house and cooking, you take care of everything we need.”
“I give you bo jo?” she asked, blushing and avoiding eye contact.
“Bo jo?” I asked, not understanding.
Red-faced, she acted out a blowjob.
I laughed — probably the most insensitive thing I could have done at that time considering how she was acting against her morals in desperation. “A Rs 75,000 blow job?” I asked, still laughing.
“I give all day?” she asked.
Shaking my head, I said, “I would like that Radhamma, but how many years will it take for to repay the debt with daily blow jobs?”
But some repayment was better than none, and I was turned on by the prospect of Radhamma giving me blow jobs and we agreed on Rs 100 for every blow job.
Getting on her knees, Radhamma pulled my underwear down, releasing my semi-erect shaft. Admiring it, she caressed it appreciatively before taking the head of my cock in her mouth.
“Bigger than your husband?” I asked, knowing I was well endowed.
“Amma!” she exclaimed, “maybe three times bigger.” For ten minutes she sucked and stroked me, caressing my balls intermittently before I shot my load in Radhamma’s mouth.
Three weeks later, she needed another loan and in exchange, I upped the ante.
After giving her the money she needed, I offered Radhamma Rs 200 per blow job if she took off her blouse and let me touch and suck her naked breasts. Reluctant at first, she eventually agreed.
Untying her blouse, she took it off shyly. Her generous breasts sprang out proudly and I gaped at them lustfully.
She grabbed my hands and placed them on her dusky, full boobs. I caressed and squeezed them before starting to play with Radhamma’s tits.
She reached down and released my shaft, starting to stroke it. I enjoyed her boobs for well over ten minutes letting her stroke me, before shoving my hardness in her mouth. Ten more minutes later, I came.
A month later, she needed Rs 20k, and the stakes kept went up again.
When I told her I was turned on by the taste of a woman’s orgasm, and loved it if a woman came in my mouth, I could see the hunger and lust in her eyes.
This time, there was no hesitation when she agreed to let me east her pussy — the deal was now up to Rs 500 per blowjob.
That was the first day that I saw her completely naked. I ate her to three earth-shattering orgasms, devouring her juices right out of her pussy and she gave me two blowjobs.
She confessed to me that this was the first time she had an orgasm with a man. Eating her to multiple orgasms and getting 2-3 blowjobs in return became common.
As the debt started shrinking rapidly, my greed was growing. I was aching to fuck her, but was scared of suggesting it because it might cause me to lose both the money and the pleasures of enjoying Radhamma’s body to the extent I was able to.
One day, Radhamma upped the erotic quotient of our little arrangement. I had been a bit depressed at failing a fitness test and not making the track team.
Taking her saree off, when Radhamma she stepped towards me, my mind was elsewhere.
“You no want today Baba?” she asked, surprised at my disinterest.
I told her how my physical fitness had suffered over the past months and how I hadn’t been selected for the sports team.
“So, I am disappointed and sad,” I said.
“Wait baba, I make you happy,” she said and left the room.
A minute later, she was back with a bottle of chocolate syrup.
Stripping out of her blouse, under-skirt and panties, she lay in my bed and poured the chocolate syrup all over her body.
“Eat Baba,” she said, “then you be strong.”
Unable to pretend anymore, I devoured Radhamma’s body, licking the chocolate from every inch before kissing her mouth for the very first time.
She responded hungrily and I sucked on her tongue while caressing her boobs and pinching her nipples.
After a while, I moved down to her boobs, sucking each of her chocolate syrup covered tits.
Further down her body I licked and sucked till I reached her pussy.
Opening her, I poured some more syrup in her pussy before starting to lick it out of her.
Radhamma was moaning and groaning in pleasure as I ate her. Ten minutes later, she screamed, arched her back and shook as her orgasm hit.
I poured some more chocolate on her pussy and continued eating her, her cum mixed with the chocolate acting as an aphrodisiac and getting me rock hard in no time.
I ate her through another orgasm, devouring her juices mixed with the chocolate, before letting her take my erection in her mouth and give me the customary blow job till I came.
My lust not sated, I spread her legs and went to work on her pussy again. By the time I enjoyed two more of Radhamma’s orgasms, I was hard again and shot my second load of the day in Radhamma’s mouth after she sucked and stroked me for fifteen minutes.
A few months later, Radhamma asked for a Rs 50k loan, her biggest ask to date. That day, I was frustrated because I had come close to being dropped rom the Cricket team.
“Rs 50k???” I said shocked at the amount. Apparently, her husband had developed liver damage and had to undergo surgery.
“Radhamma, you were going to bring the loan down, but every time it comes down a little, you need more money and the loan does not reduce.” Radhamma started sobbing.
“And, it is not like I am taking advantage of you right? Blow jobs was your idea and now, I am giving you more sexual pleasure than you ever had in life. I should be getting way more than blowjobs by now,” I said exasperated.
“What you want Baba?” Radhamma asked between sobs, “what more I do?”
“How about letting me fuck you?” I could see in her eyes that the though had crossed her mind and she had fantasized about my shaft in her pussy.
After a fake hesitation, she agreed to letting me fuck her with a condom for Rs 1,000 per session.
By the time I had eaten her to an orgasm, I was rock hard and aching to cross the final frontier.
Putting a condom on, I rubbed my shaft against her dripping wet opening before entering her.
I was pleasantly surprised at how tightly her pussy gripped my shaft, in spite of having birthed three children.
“Baba!!!” she gasped as I pushed my hardness all the way into her.
“What?” I said, sucking her tits.
“Very big Baba,” she said appreciatively.
Overcome by lust, I started drilling her hard and deep.
It didn’t last. I had wanted to fuck her for so long that I erupted in the condom after pounding her for just five minutes.
A woman’s orgasm has always turned me on. I am almost guaranteed an instant erection if she cums in my mouth.
I was tempted to eat Radhamma again till I was hard but on the flip side, I hate condoms, so decided once was enough.
“You lie,” she said one day, while putting her blouse back on after I had enjoyed her for over an hour, giving her three orgasms and fucking her for fifteen minutes.
“What lie?” I said pulling my underwear on.
“You say, you do many times?”
“Not with a condom Radhamma,” I said, shaking my head, “I don’t like condoms.”
After some contemplation, she agreed to let me scream her pussy, unprotected, for Rs 2,000 per load.
I pulled my underwear back down and stripped Radhamma naked again.
I sucked her boobs for fifteen minutes and ate her again till she came.
By the time her orgasm passed, I was rock hard again.
Entering her without a condom for the first time, I fucked Radhamma for close to an hour.
I took her missionary first and then doggy style. She kept moaning and groaning and had two orgasms around my shaft.
It was during her third orgasm that I couldn’t hold back any long and came for the first time in Radhamma’s pussy.
Not content, I kept drilling her till I went hard again and 20 minutes later shot my second load, back-to-back inside her.
Her debt was paid off the day I graduated.
That day, I fucked her all day and all night, creaming every hole.
She took six loads that day — two in her mouth, one in her ass and three inside her pussy.
But leading up to that day was years of almost everyday fucking. Whenever I fucked her, I made sure Radhamma had multiple orgasms.
When she offered me her ass a few months into our affair, it was a complimentary upgrade at no extra cost.
The day I was supposed to head back home, she showed up early to ‘help me pack.’ I had already packed the previous day and so there wasn’t any real packing to do.
So I ended up packing my hard cock deep inside her pussy.
“You go home tomorrow Baba?” she asked sitting on my bed, hooking her blouse around 10 am, after I had emptied my load inside her pussy.
“No,” I said, “My train leaves at 5 pm today.”
“Oh!” she said, visibly disappointed as she reached for her discarded panties and started putting them on..
“Take care of the next tenant like you took care of me Radhamma,” I said, winking.
Radhamma smiled. Bending down, she kissed my limp cock and said, “all not like you Baba.”
After a pause, she started stroking me, her free hand starting to unhook her blouse, “what do till go?”
What else was there to do besides fucking her all day?
She was glad that I chose to spend my last few hours in the city inside her and I left three more parting gifts from my cock inside her pussy before I left to catch the train home.
THE END.
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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!
