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What a brilliant idea it had been. This had to have been the best three weeks of my life. It wasn’t my first visit to India. Yet somehow, it was so much more interesting to experience the country through her eyes. Everything was so much more. More life, more joy, more beauty.
Definitely more sex. My number one favourite activity with her. If it wasn’t for Cora, I would never let this woman out of my room.
I shifted in my bed. My dick needed some serious attention, and she was missing to give it some.
Yanking on my boxer shorts, I strode through the house. I knew she loved the house. I had already contacted the owners with an offer to buy it. Investing in a property here seemed like a good idea. We could spend some time each year here till Cora started schooling.
I followed the sound of her giggles floating from the kitchen. The scene was worth a movie. The maid, whose name I had forgotten, was showing Divya how to cut a mango neatly and make juice out of it. Loads and loads of cut mangoes piled on the worktop next to the window, ready to be put in the juicer. There was also a shitload of mango splattered all over my wife and her sweet boobs. Did she not know that her breasts were clearly visible under the scrap of fabric she was wearing? The fucking maid probably did.
The maid noticed me first, her “good morning” dying on her lips as she looked away, embarrassed at my semi-nudity. Did she really think I would have eyes for her when the key to my cock was sitting on that worktop? Divya looked up, her giggle dying on her lips.
“Oh, good morning,” she breathed, a flush rushing up her skin.
She is parading herself half-naked in front of the maid, and now she’s shy in front of me?
“I go, madam?” Both of us looked at the maid, who looked like I was the big bad wolf who might gulp her down. Couldn’t the woman not see that I had eyes only for the jutting tits begging for the suction of my lips?
“Go,” I said, tightly watching her scurry out of the house.
“You’re so rude,” Divya admonished me.
“Am I?” I went to stand between her legs, the maid already out of my mind. I had other important things to ponder about, like how to unbuckle this thing she was wearing. “You were rude to leave me alone in bed.”
“I was thirsty,” she grabbed a half-cut mango in her hand. “For some mango juice.”
“Hmmm.” I loosened the two buckles on her shoulder, making the top part of her dress fall open to reveal two perfect boobs standing proud and upright. Why does this woman have to taunt me like this by running around practically naked all the time?
An idea sparked inside me. I could say she brought out the wickedness in me. But I was never nice to begin with. Watching her watch me, I caught the mango from her hand and rubbed it on her nipple to her gasp. The juice slithered all over her breast, leaving it sticky and hot. I had made a fucking mess, and now I had to clean up. I ducked my head and took one delicious, mango-soaked nipple in my mouth. I sucked, and I licked, and I bit amidst her groans. Mango juice off a boob. This could easily replace the best espresso in Italy. I came up for air. “I was thirsty too.” I watched the juice tickle south over her belly. “For mango juice.”
Reaching behind her, I took another cut mango, all bright yellow and squashy in my hand. I rubbed it on her other breast. She watched me, her teeth on her bottom lip.
“I think this one was feeling lonely. Sì?” I asked her, hovering over her juice-dripping breast.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
I smothered my grin on her breast and devoured it just like I had her other one. I moved my juice-dripping hand to her twin and squeezed it, pinching her nipple sharply.
Good thing the maid left. Her groan was so loud it was a miracle Cora didn’t wake up. I let my hands roam her body, painting her with sticky yellow juice till I reached her face, where I pulled her head and stuck my tongue inside, cooling her warm mouth with mine.
She shoved her needy body closer, rubbing herself against my dick.
I yanked my mouth off hers and caught her deranged eyes. “More?”
She nodded wildly.
“Words, Divya, I need words.”
“Yes,” she groaned. “More. Much more.”
“Good girl.” I shoved her back against the wall and followed the pattern of the flowing juice with my mouth. I couldn’t decide whether I should lift her dress up or remove it completely. She didn’t have the patience for my debate and shimmered out of her dress, dropping it on the floor. She lay in front of me in nothing but a sheer yellow panty, matching the mangoes.
I sighed. “Haven’t we learned any lessons, mia cara? If you don’t want your underwear torn, don’t wear any.” I confirmed my words by tearing off yet another piece of her wardrobe.
My eyes scorched her skin, burning her like a trail of hot wax. My caramel-coloured sex goddess, wrapped in yellow. I ignored my pulsing dick, pushing me to make haste. I wanted to enjoy this moment, take a picture, and store it in my memory forever. How did this woman become more beautiful day by day?
I grabbed hold of another mango and squeezed the juice out onto her naked pussy. She jerked as drips of juice hit her and tried to move my hand away.
“Tsk.” I swatted her hand away. “My mouth is dying for some of that juice.” Grasping hold of her knees, I spread them wide and pinned them to the countertop. I ducked my head and let my tongue slide along her thick lips, making my way to her clit. She bucked right off the worktop with a loud groan. I pushed her down again and continued my assault. Fucking nirvana. The taste of mango mixed with the essence of her.
