My name is Kamran. I am 35 years of age, 5 ft 7 with an average build. I live in Islamabad, with my wife and small son.

The company I work for sent me to Dhaka, Bangla Desh. I had never been there before, and was not sure what to expect.

After I had checked into a hotel, I contacted Mr. Hossain the person I was supposed to meet, and waited. Dhaka's humidity was getting me down and I longed for the dry heat and scented air of Islamabad.

When he finally arrived, (late as is usual in South Asia) I was surprised to see that there was a woman with him. She was in a light blue sari with her hair tied back in a traditional plat with jasmine flowers tied at the end.

She about 5 ft with a beautifully oval face, Her complexion was typical Bengali, a warm brown with a pair of jet black almond shaped eyes with long dark lashes and a sweet full mouth. Not a face you could forget easily.

Her sari was in the Bengali style not Indian, but she managed to convey the contours of her body perfectly. Her breasts were large and although covered up by her sari, they seemed to invite you to squeeze them.

Mr. Hossain introduced her as his wife Shama. This ended, abruptly, my brief fantasy of a business trip bang with this hot Bengali dish. We chatted for a while over tea. Before Mr Hossain insisted on my joining them for dinner at their home.

I accepted as I had no better plans, knew no one in Dhaka and did not feel like spending lonely hours in the hotel.

As we were getting into their car, Mr Hossain received a call on his mobile and after a heated and short conversation with the caller; he apologised to me and said he had to rush off to handle an urgent matter. I smiled and assured him that we could have dinner another time, but Mr Hossain insisted that his wife and I continue home and wait for him as he would be free in an hour or so.

Mr Hossain took the car and drove off, leaving me and Shama standing on the road. I was, a little unsure what to do next. Shama smiled at me and hailed a rickshaw. This astonished me as I was certain a woman of her status would never travel in such a thing. I helped her into the rickshaw, catching a strong whiff of her perfumed Jasmine flowers and an eyeful of her breasts and butt, as I got in after her. On the trip over, the side of Shama's butt and her thigh kept making contact with mine. I put it down to the cramped seating and the weaving of the rickshaw puller as he manoeuvred through the traffic

In 20 or so minutes, were reached a rather old but very neat apartment building and Shama, took me up stairs, to a second floor apartment.

I was surprised at how cool and spacious the apartment was when we entered. The ceilings were high and the windows, well shaded by venation blinds and heavy curtains.

There didn't seem to be anyone else there. No servants; no children; no old parents.

I sat in the lounge as Shama directed. I must say here that Shama, from the time I was introduced to her had not said a word. The only thing she had uttered was the traditional "As salaam Walikum" (Peace be with you) as we met.

I sat looking around me as Shama went off somewhere. She returned a few minutes later with a tray of nimko (savouries) and jug of orange squash and some drinking glasses.

I sat smiling uneasily as she sat beside me on the sofa and offered the nimko to me.

"Nice apartment" I said "Very cool" No reply. Just a soft smile and an offer of more orange squash...

Finally, feeling very stupid but compelled to do so, I asked her "Do you speak English?"

Yes" She replied with a smile '" Not good like you and Hossain but I speak "her accent was heavy but I could understand her easily. I relaxed; at least a conversation was possible.

Just then the telephone rang. Shama got up and disappeared through a door off the lounge.

After a few minutes she called out sweetly, "Mr. Kamran please come"

As I followed the direction she had taken I found that the door led into a large bedroom where, Shama sat on the side of the double bed, holding the telephone receiver out to me.

I came over and took the phone and heard Mr. Hossain apologising for the delay and telling me that he would miss dinner but would be back by 11.30pm. He insisted I wait and told me that his wife would be very offended if I left without taking dinner.

All this time, I stood beside the bed as Shama sat on it casually adjusting her sari. Her adjustments exposed the deep v shape of her blouse, and I was able to see clearly her very large breasts packed tightly by her bra and blouse. I put my hand in my pocket to carefully adjust my cock in my shorts as it was hardening and tenting the front of my trousers.

Shama noticed and looked up at me with a sly smile. She made no attempt to cover her breast cleavage and in fact, allowed her sari to fall off her shoulder as she pushed her breasts forward, obviously wanting me to get a clearer view of them.

Hossain was still talking but I was not paying much attention, my eyes were firmly fixed on Shama's glorious breasts.

I coughed nervously as Shama's hand touched my thigh and stroked it up and down.

She then reached for my zip and belt buckle and opened them. I was absolutely stunned by what was happening and waited for her next move.

"... anyway, Mr. Kamran, I hope you will enjoy what Shama has waiting and I will see you later" I heard Hossain say on the line.

"Oh yes" I managed trying to get back into the conversation "I am sure I will enjoy it. See you later then Hossain Sahib" I said grateful I got the words out just before Shama, tugged my trousers and shorts down and took hold of my hard shaft.

"Umm" Shama Said gently holding and pulling on it "You wife is lucky. This nice and fat one, Long too..."

Shama pumped my Lund a few times, her thumb sweeping over the tip and smearing the glob of pre-cum that had formed on my piss-hole all over the helmeted head.

I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it off.

Shama looked at my face and eased me forward a bit by pulling my Lund.

"Your mouth" I said and touched her face and lips gently with my hand.

She smiled and opening her full lips, she started licking my prick like it was an ice cream cone. Her tongue making long slow sweeps up the sides of my shaft and over the sensitive head of my erect Lund

I let out a long slow breath as she opened her mouth and swallowed the glistening head of my tool; her tongue cushioning and caressing it as her lips closed around it.

I was holding the top of her head, all greasy and soft with coconut oil, with one hand as the other held on to the left buttock of my clenched ass. The scent of the jasmine in her hair mixed with the coconut aroma to really blow my mind.

Her mouth was a hot wet inferno of suction and pleasure. This woman was really into sucking dick. No doubt about it. She absolutely adored it. It was clear from the way she put her heart and soul into it and moaned and groaned as she sucked.