My Chakkar* With SC Ch. 05-07

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Author’s Notes:

*”Chakkar” is a multipurpose colloquial Hindi word, in the present context meaning “affair”.

To get the best out of this story, I suggest that you should read Ch. 01 to 04 of “My Chakkar With SC” before reading on.


SC called me long distance on my direct line during lunch hour one day. I’d been busy with my work and had not had time to even think about her. I’d just returned to my office after a long meeting, to pick up papers on my way to another appointment when the phone rang. She’d caught me just at the right time.

“Hello… busy?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” I responded.

“Ummm… well, I’ll be quick. Can you make it to Mumbai on the weekend following the next?” She queried, a suppressed excitement in her voice. My heart skipped a beat and my cock twitched in my shorts.

“Well, let me think… I suppose I can arrange something. What’s up?” I inquired.

“K is going to be out of town on a training course and I’m arranging to send the kids to my sister-in-law across town for a weekend with their cousins. So I’ll be able to get away from Sat noon to Sun morning. Don’t miss this chance!” She replied & called off. “K” of course was her hubby.

Since I was a senior executive by then, it was no big deal to arrange a business visit to Mumbai. Some time back, I had changed jobs and now worked for another company. My new employer didn’t have a guesthouse in Mumbai hence the hotel bill could be charged to my employer, a considerable relief. Also, now that SC and I didn’t work for the same company, any residual guilt I had about having a relationship with a junior colleague also had vanished.

I returned to my hotel before noon. The meeting in the morning with a customer had gone well and had ended earlier than expected. I casually sauntered through the shopping arcade of the hotel, killing time. In a showcase I spotted a heavy oxidized silver necklace done in tribal style and on an impulse bought it, along with a matching silver anklet. The anklet had tiny silver bells that tinkled when it was shaken. I returned to my room and waited expectantly for her, heart beating a little fast.

It was a quarter past one o’clock when there was a knock on my door. About time, I thought as I opened the door. She breezed past me and I closed the door after her. There was something different about her but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, except that her shabnam bag seemed to be heavier than usual.

“Please excuse me.” She said and disappeared into the bathroom.

I did a quick double take when she emerged after ten minutes. Wow! Did she look different! Stunning, as a matter of fact. She had changed into a plain white sari with a red border, the kind known as a pooja sari in Bengal. The pallu though, was draped in the Coorgi style: it was drawn snugly across her bosom, passed under her left arm, around the back and then came down her right shoulder, to be secured in place with a tiny brooch. The intricate design on the pallu of the otherwise unadorned sari was displayed down her front.

She wore a matching white blouse, quite unlike the conservative ones she usually favored. The blouse was at least a couple of inches shorter than usual, the sleeves were very short and the neck was cut rectangular and wide – the shoulder strips on either side of the neck were hardly an inch across. The Coorgi style pallu left a generous expanse of her flawless brown skin uncovered. Darker areas of her skin clearly marked the neck opening of her usual conservative blouses. The gentle swell of the tops of her high breasts and a hint of cleavage could be seen above the horizontal neckline. Well-padded collarbones and a softly beating pulse at the base of her throat made her look utterly feminine and vulnerable.

She wore no ornaments except a few green glass bangles – she had taken them all off, including the mangalsutra that proclaimed her married status. She wore just a hint of a very pale lipstick, a small red bindi on her forehead and a touch of eyeliner that highlighted her sexy eyes from which she had taken off her glasses. Her hairstyle was different too – her long, thick, unbraided hair had been looped around and secured in a loose chignon. She wore jasmine flowers in her hair. She stopped a few feet away from me and slowly pirouetted around, showing off.

“How do I look?” She asked coquettishly.

“Wow SC, you look fantastic! Ravishing! Mmmmmh!” I blew her a kiss. She blushed prettily. I advanced to take her in my arms but she stopped me.

“Just a moment.” She said. Then she produced a small box from her handbag and held it open before me, waiting expectantly. It contained sindoor, the vermilion powder that women in the northern and eastern parts of India generally wear to signify their married status. I took a pinch of sindoor and applied it in the parting of her hair.

She surveyed herself in the mirror behind me and sighed,

“Now I am happy. I feel so secure…” illegal bahis She shut her eyes and stood close to me, unmoving. I savored her proximity, breathing in her fragrance. She looked so serene and yet ravishingly attractive and sexy, she took my breath away.

As I gently caressed her face and hair, her breathing became irregular. My hands slowly moved down the sides of her neck and on her shoulders at an unhurried pace, savoring the touch of her glowing, satiny skin. My knuckles lightly moved across her exposed upper chest. She started to moan under her breath. I pulled the shoulder straps of her blouse & bra down her arms. Her plump, creamy shoulders and the full upper chest were now bare. I bent and kissed her shoulders one by one. Then I pushed my hands inside her blouse & bra, cupped her breasts and eased them out till they pulled free and jutted out of the neck opening of the blouse.

“Aahh… hold them tight. They have been aching for your touch.” She begged. Her breasts filled my hands as I squeezed them rhythmically.

“Harder…” She whispered. I rolled her nipples between my thumb and forefinger and then pinched them hard till she cried out, “Oui Ammaaa!”

I bent and held her full lower lip between my teeth, then nipped it hard. A scream rose from her throat but was muffled by my mouth covering hers. I tasted her blood and went crazy with lust. I pushed her down and made her kneel before me. She unzipped my fly and pulled out my erect cock. Pulling the foreskin back, she started licking my cock head. Her lips closed around my cock as she took it in her hot mouth, sucking it. She pushed forward and I felt her throat against the tip of my cock. She was getting good at sucking cock. But right now I wanted something different. I pulled my cock out of her mouth.

“Have you…?” I started to ask.

“Yes.” She interrupted me before I could complete my question, understanding instantly that I was going to ask about birth control pills.

“Good girl.” I said.

I quickly shed my shoes & clothes. My cock sprang free as I slid my shorts down. I pushed SC back and made her lie on her back on the carpet. I pushed her sari & petticoat up around her hips, exposing her panties. They were soaked at the crotch. I pulled them down and eased them off her legs. I could clearly see her pink, wet inner lips winking out from under her thick, curly pubic hair. An irresistibly heady aroma of female musk rose from her open pussy.

I bent forward, held her thighs apart, buried my nose in her pubic thatch and inhaled deeply. It was wonderful! I tried to get at her inner lips with my tongue but her thick pubic hair kept getting in the way. She was moaning aloud by now and jerking her hips in frustration as her pubic hair came in the way of my pleasure-giving tongue.

“Hold it open!” I commanded. She spread her outer lips and held them apart with her fingers, allowing me unhindered access. I was now able to lick up and around her pussy, enjoying the salty taste and strong but pleasant aroma of the sticky, slippery juices oozing out. Right at the top of her slit was the hard, red bud of her clitoris. I closed my lips around it and sucked hard. She immediately had a wild orgasm, bucking her hips and letting off a long moan. She was still shuddering as I moved up and kissed her, making her taste her own pussy juices. She licked my wet cheeks clean while I kneaded her breasts. Her eyelids were swollen with lust; she was breathing hard.

“Honey, now I am going to properly fuck you.” I told her. Without giving her a chance to catch her breath, I jack-knifed her thighs against her chest, positioned my cock at her pussy entrance and pushed in. In a couple of hard shoves, my cock was buried into her up to the hilt. Her pussy was hot, wet and tight around my cock. She held me tight against her as I started to fuck her hard, SC moaning and grunting in time with my thrusts. Squelching and slapping noises filled the room and her hot breath blew on my face as I pumped her pussy.

“Yes yes yes… harder… take your prize… make me your slave…” She babbled incoherently as I kept ramming into her.

Finally I ejaculated deep inside her pussy and collapsed on top of her. She straightened up her legs under me as my shrinking cock slipped out of her pussy. I kept lying on top of her, my full weight resting on her body, my face buried in her long, thick, fragrant hair that had worked loose and spilled around her face. She didn’t seem to mind my weight and kept gently caressing my back. After a long while, I woke up. Our sweat had dried and her skin stuck to mine. As I raised myself up, her breasts peeled away from my chest.

She gave me a shy smile as I looked into her eyes. She got up and set about tidying herself up. Her breasts were still sticking out of the neck of her blouse and she started to put them back in. I stopped her and asked her to take off her blouse & bra, which she did. There were deep welts on her breasts where the edges of the blouse illegal bahis siteleri and bra had dug in. I massaged them with the flat of my hand, trying to soothe the sore skin at the welts. Her nipples immediately perked up and stiffened. I laughed and flicked them with my fingernails, hardening them further. She playfully slapped my hand away, got up and went into the bathroom, wrapping the pallu around her shoulders while I got up and lay on the bed, still stark naked.

She returned with the customary wet napkin and gently wiped my cock and balls clean. She handled it like the experienced woman that she had become by now. She then bent down and started to plant little kisses and licks on my flaccid cock.

“Just a moment.” I stopped her. I took out the heavy silver necklace from my briefcase. Her eyes widened with pleasure when she saw it. I pushed the pallu off her shoulders and my eyes feasted on her pretty bare bosom again. I put the necklace around her neck, reached behind her and fastened the clasp. I pulled her close and we embraced tightly, her breasts flattening against my chest.

“Thank you, Sam.” She murmured as my lips closed over hers. I held her at arms’ length and admired the beauty of her smooth, dusky skin, as the oxidized silver necklace dully gleamed against it, my fingers teasing her nipples.

“There’s something more.” I said as I fished out the anklet from my briefcase and shook it before her eyes. She smiled in delight, her dimples deepening, not uttering a word. I sat down on the dressing stool and she daintily raised the hem of her sari, placed her right foot on the stool between my legs and offered me her ankle. I fastened the anklet around it.

She playfully shook her foot to make the little bells tinkle; then her toes started playing with my cock. She squealed happily as my cock started to harden & get bigger. I pushed the raised hem on to her thigh and started kissing around her raised knee. I reached between her legs and my fingers started to stroke her pussy lips. Her breath caught and she started moaning again, standing frozen like a statue, one foot resting on the stool, eyes closed in concentration, enjoying the sensation of my fingers playing with her pussy.

I withdrew my hand and licked the glistening fingers, then rubbed them on her lips, slipping them in her mouth as she opened it. As she sucked my fingers clean, I pulled her down and made her kneel between my knees.

“Honey, I’m going to fuck your mouth now. Today, you’ll learn to take my cock in your throat, OK?” She shook her head affirmatively. She peeled back my foreskin and started to lick my cock. I held her by her hair with one hand, guiding her mouth over my cock, while tweaking her nipples with the other. Then I raised my hips, thrusting in till my cock contacted the back of her throat. She gagged and pulled back a little. After giving her a moment to recover, I pushed in again a little deeper, and held my cock in a while longer before pulling back. I pushed in again even deeper as she recovered her breath. She seemed to have overcome her gagging reflex as we established a rhythm and she timed her breathing with my thrusts. I pulled out completely, my cock wet with her saliva and my pre-cum. After making her lick and suck my cock head for a while, I started pushing my cock in and out of her throat a little faster, holding her head with both hands. I felt my orgasm coming, pulled out of her throat and spilled my semen in her mouth.

She too had sensed my orgasm coming and started to swallow my semen as soon as I started to ejaculate. She kept sucking my cock till it deflated, so that no semen leaked out. She snuggled up against me as we lay in bed and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

We woke up after a short but refreshing nap. In the afterglow of an exhilarating sexual union, we shared some of the most intimate details of our lives. From those confidences, I was able to piece together a picture of her family background and life with her husband.

She had been brought up in a puritanical family where no mention was ever made of anything remotely connected with sex. She had had no sexual experience before marriage. She had never even masturbated. All her knowledge about matters sexual was derived from whispered confidences shared with her female friends, who were about as ignorant as her. Although she spoke of her husband without rancor, as she would speak about a clumsy child, apparently her hubby was an awkward, clumsy oaf who had no idea about how to arouse and satisfy a woman, and perhaps didn’t care. He too was a virgin when they were married, as she was. His sexual technique was limited to furtive groping with lights switched off, a few thrusts aimed in the general direction of her pussy followed by a quick ejaculation that allowed him to turn on his side to fall asleep. He was otherwise a simple, dutiful, kind if rather boring and unexciting person and a devoted husband and father.

SC told me that she canlı bahis siteleri and her hubby had never seen each other naked and she had never touched his penis. Her hymen did not break until several months after their marriage, during an unusually vigorous coupling. She had been rather distraught on discovering bloodstains on the sheets next morning, after her hubby had gone to work, but had taken it in her stride. She had not even thought it necessary to tell him about it! Her hubby was not highly sexed and the frequency of their couplings was about twice a week in the first year of their marriage, gradually tapering off to once every few weeks.

“See, I was such an innocent, un-spoilt girl, happily married. Then you came along and seduced me – no – raped me and corrupted my morals! You beast!” She complained, her hand caressing my thigh possessively.

“Well, I plead guilty as charged. But let’s not forget that it was you who hitched rides in my car and led me on, batting your eyes and flirting with me. And did I ever force you to come into my hotel room? And tell me honestly, didn’t you get the greatest thrill of your life when I first shoved my cock up your pussy?” I demanded.

“Yes. I did.” She whispered.

“But if you wish, even now, you can walk away. I can’t stop you.” I countered, gently kneading her breast.

“Alas! It’s too late now. You have made me your slave. I cannot live without you. I need you so bad sometimes, my body aches for you. What magic spell have you cast on me?” She sighed in response.

“Why did you take off your mangalsutra when you changed into your new sari?” I changed the subject.

“Because I belong only to you when I am with you and so I am wearing sindoor in your name. It makes me feel so safe and secure…” She explained. She swore that her heart, mind and body belonged only to me and it was only some bad Karma in her previous birth that had caused her to marry another man. Then she showed me her hennaed palms. My name had been woven into the intricate pattern of the mehendi (henna); so cleverly had it been done that one had to really look closely to find it. (It is customary for women to have their husbands’ name written on their palms.)

Clearly, wearing my sindoor and having my name written on her palms meant a lot to her. This was her way of coming to terms with the extraordinary fact that in addition to her hubby she undeniably had to accommodate me in her life, since she couldn’t live without me. Well, if that’s what she needed to do to keep her sanity, I wasn’t going to complain. I was flattered and humbled by her complete and unconditional acceptance of my intrusion in her life.


My Chakkar with SC Ch. 06

There was a knock on my door – the waiter had just arrived with our food. SC hurriedly scooted off to the bathroom while I put on my dressing gown and opened the door. SC emerged after the waiter had left. She had tidied herself up, tied her long hair in a knot and refreshed the sindoor in the parting of her hair. The pallu was wrapped around her shoulders and her breasts bounced and jiggled under it as she walked – in her hurry, she had left her blouse, bra and panties lying on the bed.

We sat side by side on the couch and enjoyed a leisurely meal of rice, chicken curry and fried pomfret. I lovingly fed her little morsels of fried fish with my fingers and she licked them clean with dainty thrusts of her pink tongue. I wiped residual oil off the plate with my fingers and held them before her lips. She declined with a sideways wave of her head. I pulled the pallu off her shoulders, once again uncovering her pretty little tits. I wiped my fingers on her breasts, smearing oil on her nipples. Then I bent and suckled on her erect, shiny, fishy smelling nipples as she giggled and urged me on.

She sat sideways on my lap and we ate strawberries & cream for dessert, pushing strawberries into each other’s mouths using our lips and tongues and licking excess cream off each other’s lips. She placed an arm around my neck for support, so that she wouldn’t slide off my lap. This brought her open armpit close to our noses and we both smelt the strong musk wafting up – there had been hours of hectic lovemaking & sweating after she had bathed that morning.

“Oh my God! I must take a shower immediately!” She exclaimed, blushing furiously and starting to get up. But I held her on my lap and asked her to hold both her hands over her head. I bent and buried my nose in her thick underarm hair, inhaling deeply.

“Aahhh… What a heavenly smell!” I exclaimed as my cock twitched to life again.

“God! You are impossible, you animal! Let me go.” She put up a brief, half-hearted struggle before surrendering to my demanding lips and hands roaming over her body.

I noticed that her lower lip was swelling up – the after effect of my love bite. I inspected her lip tenderly and found that there was a little cut inside her mouth. There was no bruise visible from outside, thank God! I wrapped an ice cube from the mini fridge in my handkerchief and gently applied it to her lip. She purred like a kitten, luxuriating in my tender ministrations. A drop of cold water suddenly fell on her bare chest, startling her.

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