In the heart of New Delhi, a woman with raven-black hair stood alone on the balcony of her opulent apartment. The night was warm and fragrant with the scent of jasmine, the air thick with the promise of the monsoon season. She was nude, her curves on display in the soft glow of the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. Her name was Priya, a stunning Indian woman in her late twenties with a body that could make any man’s heart race.
Priya’s mind was consumed with thoughts of him, her latest conquest. He was a wealthy businessman from Mumbai, with dark eyes and a chiseled jawline that made her weak in the knees. She had met him at a party the previous night, and they had spent the evening exchanging flirtatious glances and witty banter. She had known then that she wanted him, and she had made it her mission to have him.
As she stood there, lost in thought, she heard the sound of the balcony door opening behind her. She turned to see him, standing there in nothing but his boxers, a seductive smile playing on his lips.
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
Priya turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a step towards him, her body pressing against his. His hands roamed over her curves, his fingers tracing the outline of her breasts and the curve of her hips. She gasped as his lips found hers, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that matched her own.
He picked her up, his hands gripping her thighs as he carried her to the nearby chaise lounge. He laid her down gently, his body hovering over hers. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, the evidence of his desire pressing against her thigh.
He began to kiss her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone. She arched her back, her body begging for more. He took the hint, his mouth finding her nipples, his tongue swirling around them, teasing them to hard peaks. She moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.
He continued to explore her body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She was writhing beneath him, her body begging for release. He obliged, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow circles around it. She cried out, her hips bucking off the chaise lounge as waves of pleasure washed over her.
But he wasn’t done yet. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock teasing her, sliding in and out of her slowly. She begged him to go deeper, to fuck her harder. He complied, his hips slamming into hers as he filled her completely.
They moved together, their bodies in sync as they chased their release. She could feel herself getting closer, her muscles tensing as the pleasure built up inside of her. He could sense it too, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.
And then, they were there. She cried out as she came, her body shaking beneath him. He followed soon after, his cock twitching inside of her as he filled her with his seed.
They lay there, spent and satisfied, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs. The night was still warm, the scent of jasmine still thick in the air. But something had changed. They had crossed the line, and there was no going back.
And as they lay there, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, they knew that this was just the beginning.
