In the dimly lit room, a woman stood in front of the full-length mirror, her thick, nude form illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp. She was an Indian beauty, her black hair cascading down her back in waves, her curves full and inviting. She ran her hands over her body, feeling the softness of her own skin, the curves of her hips, the fullness of her breasts.
She heard a soft knock at the door, and turned to see him standing there. He was a tall, handsome man, his eyes filled with desire as he took in the sight of her. He crossed the room to her, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her close.
They stood there for a moment, their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat of their passion. He leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a soft, lingering kiss. She responded eagerly, her tongue meeting his as they deepened the kiss.
He ran his hands over her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts. She moaned softly as he touched her, her body responding to his touch. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nibbling gently on her earlobe.
She tilted her head back, giving him better access, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. He continued to kiss and nibble his way down her neck, his hands never stopping their exploration of her body.
He reached down, his fingers finding her wet and ready for him. She moaned louder as he touched her, her body writhing with pleasure. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her tightness, her heat. She gasped, her hips bucking against his hand as he began to move his finger in and out of her.
He added a second finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. She moaned louder, her body shaking with pleasure. He continued to finger her, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in slow circles.
She was close, so close to the edge. He could feel it, the way her body tensed, the way she moaned his name. He quickened his fingers, fucking her harder, faster. She cried out, her orgasm washing over her in waves of pleasure.
He withdrew his fingers, his cock hard and ready. He turned her around, his hands on her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his, filled with desire and need.
He entered her slowly, filling her completely. She moaned, her body adjusting to his size. He began to move, his hips thrusting against hers. She pushed back, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He reached around, his hand finding her clit. He rubbed it in slow circles, his fingers wet with her juices. She moaned louder, her body shaking with pleasure.
He fucked her harder, faster, his hips slapping against hers. She cried out, her orgasm building inside her. He could feel it, the way her body tightened around him, the way she moaned his name.
He thrust deeper, harder, faster. She cried out, her orgasm washing over her in waves of pleasure. He followed her, his own orgasm ripping through him.
They stood there for a moment, their bodies still connected, their breathing heavy. He pulled out of her, his cum dripping down her thighs. She turned to him, her lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss.
They climbed into bed, their bodies entwined, their limbs tangled together. They fell asleep, their bodies spent, their passion sated.
For now.
