WW About Last Night
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Apri30-May08 2012 https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2956956/ww-about-last-night-apr30-may08-2012
May09-May19 2012 https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2970089/ww-about-last-night-may09-may19-2012-------
June 15th 2012
"Sit on me," he urged.
Khushi dropped on his thigh, but he said, in a rough whisper, "no, sit on me."
She understood.
But, what her husband asked of her was impossible! Intense heat rose to her face, and she was conscious that her face rivaled the proudest tomato. Or, a nearer example: a cherry-red thong. She bit into her bottom lip and indicated so with a shake of her head.
Arnav cupped her face, and said, "are you feeling shy? Look at me."
Look at him? That too was impossible now. She was a mess. Undone. Khushi's response was to bury her scalding face into that place where his neck met his shoulder.
She felt soft laughter rumble in his chest.
"I get it--we'll work our way up to that one."
His words returned some composure to her and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. They were warm with amusement.
Arnav took her mouth, tugging on her bottom lip with his lips. "How can one woman contain multitudes? A siren one moment," he marveled between nibbles, "then suddenly so shy."
There was no reply to make but Khushi leaned to extract more from his kiss, and met his tongue. His one hand cradled her head and his other stroked her thighs. Her body's innate need called her to slide further up his leg towards his heat. He dropped kisses along her jawline, his tongue flicked out to tease her ear. Khushi heard herself sigh softly. Here his fingers slipped between her thighs and made tormenting circles approaching her, but not close enough to where her body screamed for attention. She shifted slightly to remind him of the geography, but he wouldn't satisfy her. He sucked on her earlobe, and she moaned softly under her breath, "Arnav?" It was his name, but she was really saying something more like 'get on with it!'
"Khushi?"
"Hmmm--?"
"Is this what you are asking for?" he asked, his thumb brushing against her centre through the red lace. It was the briefest of touches. A touch barely worthy of the name, but--oh, so very effective.
That she managed even a hmmm in reply was laudable, because she was not aware of anything but her dampness and his hardness. Her brain was powering off and could only be asked to know those two elemental things.
His thumb pulled the lace aside and his fingers found her waiting. "This? Is this what you want?" he said as he boldly entered her with his finger--she gasped with pleasure and leaned back, not aware that she parted her thighs to give him more access. He took full advantage; arranged her on the bed and played her--his fingers, his mouth, his tongue.
His attention was intense; her flesh sensitive. Yet, while resisting his tugs and bites, her hands were at the same time fisted in his hair assuring that he could not get away. But--the brink soon approached. They had been lovers long enough for Khushi to recognize that the escalating tension in her body was about to peak and unravel. She yearned for release. Her body had held the sweet promise of release on simmer all evening. She could trace this build-up back to that moment when she had stood in front of him in her bath towel. That moment when she had taken his finger into her mouth. When she had chosen a red saree. Slipped on the infamous thong. Felt his eyes on her during dinner. Oh, and that moment--especially that surprising moment--when he had taken her hand and kissed it. How unlike her husband that gesture had been--so out of character, yet so fulfilling precisely because it was unlike him.
She clawed at his back, and begged him to enter her. Now!
Arnav flatly refused.
So, inevitably the point came where pure selfish need overwhelmed her. She essentially forgot he was in the room as she ran madly down the path to pursue her own pleasure. That final gasp--followed by the tiny scream--and then, yes then, the shuddering sighs of utter collapse.
It requires no great understanding to imagine that after such workout, Khushi curled her body around a pillow and succumbed lazily to the boneless sweet fatigue.
But, apparently, they were not done, as her husband reminded her with a solid smack to her bottom.
"On your knees, Button--!" he demanded.
Her eyes widened.
"And--before you say anything--you have already used up your 'One-Refusal-Card' for this session"--here he tossed his shirt carelessly to the floor--and continued, "you cannot refuse anything else tonight!"
Khushi mentally shook her head. Arnav Singh Raizada--the undeterred negotiator.
"The One-Refusal-Card?" she questioned, watching that gorgeous man slip out of his trousers. Her eyes boldly taking in his strong legs--and every other strong part of him. "I've never heard that rule!"
"Then you should consider yourself fortunate to have married a man like me--who has so much to teach you," he explained patiently.
"Oh, believe me--I know exactly how fortunate I am," she said, in a saucy tone and made much of ogling his bulky attributes as he removed his underwear.
He made a circular motion with his finger, and said, "on your knees!" And added for good measure, "no debate!"
Khushi slid onto her knees, sashaying her bottom temptingly for him, knowing she was giving her husband quite an eyeful. She tossed him a look over her shoulder and repeated his words, "No debate! You sound just like Yashji."
To mention the name of another man when your husband--who has just generously serviced you!--is waiting in full arousal--well, that is simply not done.
"Shut up, Khushi," Arnav warned with a growl as he took a position behind her. He ran his nails down her back. Khushi shivered from delightful anticipation, and rubbed herself against him. "Concentrate on your husband," he told her, and entered her swiftly and with force.
Let there be no doubt that Khushi did precisely that.
--------
Yash Malhotra was not entirely forgotten.
He was very much on Anjali's mind. The anticipation with which she had dressed for the evening was the exact opposite of her thoughts as she changed and prepared for bed. Anjali--being that fastidious woman of manners--began now to regret that her personal disappointment had caused her to act so indifferently towards Yash as he bid her goodnight.
She smiled to herself. How amusing that a man behaving honourably was abused for it. He was absolutely correct. This was not the time for them to enter deeper knowing. The trial was a day away. Her recent capriciousness had shown him that she was not fully aligned. This morning he had presented himself as a patient suitor. How admirably he had spoken. How graciously. And, to punish him for giving her space and time was nothing short of hysteria.
She turned off the bathroom lights and made her way in the dark to the bed she shared with Little Khushi. She blindly grasped the phone from her bedside table and before she could change her mind, she called him.
The call connected immediately.
"Anjali." He said it as though he had expected her to call, but also doubted it at the same time.
She plunged right in without a preface. "I behaved like a child who didn't get the present she was expecting. I'm sorry for my coldness earlier."
She heard his sigh, and feared it was a sigh of frustration.
Anjali added, without examining her thoughts, "the truth is that I'm...I am like a teenager around you. I want everything immediately and I fear that if we wait to progress, I'll lose you."
"Anj--"
"--No! Let me finish," she interrupted. "If I don't speak now, I'll retreat into my grown-up shell and speak only half of what I feel," she said. "I love you." This exploded out of her. The sleeping Khushi shifted and rolled over. Anjali glanced down at the girl and as she spoke the rest, she spoke to the man and the child together. "I love you. I want to sleep with you. I want to wake up with you. I want to live with you. And, I have this fear that we'll remain apart if we don't come together now."
She released her breath, her fist clenched over the duvet.
He was silent and she knew to wait.
When he spoke, he said this: "We are the teenagers who meet on a holiday, and know we have only two weeks to spend with the greatest love of our life."
Yes! That was exactly it! Anjali could have wept at his understanding heart.
He continued, "Anjali, I'm outside at the front door."
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