Chapter 5

There was a darker side to things, as there always is. Suresh had no way of knowing that his wife, Sayali had a secret lover, one whom no one knew of, not even her masters at the sex company,

Hedon & Venery. Suresh revelled in the candour of their marriage

-- he believed she had no secrets from him, as he certainly had none from her. He knew that she was a full-time whore at Hedon &

Venery, that she worked at a brothel called The Apistia, that she did live sex-shows and performed in films and for steamy pornographic magazines. She fucked the servants in the house, and any of their friends she fancied. They had group orgies with close friends and frequent wife-swapping parties. At dinner parties for his business associates, she put on sex-shows with the servants or hired gigolos, and allowed the guests to fuck her. With very important businessmen, she went one-on-one, spending entire nights and, sometimes, long weekends with them. The results were invariably profitable, and Sayali never complained. In graphic detail, she recounted the sex. When she could, she had it all video taped. Suresh had hours of footage of his wife as a sex-slave, servicing businessmen, their friends, hirelings, complete strangers.

Suresh, too, had his share of lovers, when time permitted : maids, whore, call-girls, Sayali's friends, his friends' wives -- Suresh enjoyed fucking them and he, too, recounted his affairs for

Sayali. With such transparency in their marriage, Suresh had no reason to suspect his wife. The question of infidelity did not arise -- both were constantly and openly unfaithful.

But there were days when Sayali didn't go to work. Instead, she left the house as usual, drove into town, stopped en route to call

The Apistia to say she would not be in that day, parked her car in a lot and took a taxi to a small, quiet lane by the docks.

Alighting from the taxi, she waited till it turned the corner and was out of sight. Then she walked quickly down the lane and turned into a narrow blind alley that ran perpendicular to the lane. At the end of the alley stood an old three-storied block of flats.

It was a run-down wooden structure, the timber rotten and decaying in many parts, some windows boarded, others without shutters, still others broken and open like gaping wounds. There was no door to the building, and Sayali entered and climbed three flights of long, broad, shallow wooden steps, clutching the curved wooden bannister, worn smooth by countless hands. Most of the flats were empty. One or two had signs of desultory life, an occasional line of washing or a tinny radio squeaking and scratching. Sayali climbed to the top floor and turned down the corridor to the flat at the rear of the house. Using a key taken from her small handbag, she let herself into the flat.

In comparison to the rest of the building, the flat was surprisingly well-kept. The walls were neatly plastered and painted a soft white. The door opened into a large, simply furnished room with a high, sloping ceiling. Tall windows stretched along the length of the far wall. The room overlooked the harbour and the busy dockyard, beyond several rows of red tiled roofs. An open door at one end of the room led into an airy and clean kitchen, fitted with simple and basic appliances -- a small refrigerator, a two-ring gas stove, a steel sink and a granite worktop. Another door set half-way down the side wall was open and showed a bedroom with a bathroom ensuite.

The living room in which Sayali stood held scattered, minimal furniture, mostly of inexpensive wood or white-painted cane -- two deep armchairs, a sofa, a small glass-topped coffee table, a dining table with four chairs. The walls were bare. A rug on the floor added colour. The sofa and chairs were upholstered with brightly patterned fabric, and held plump cushions.

Sayali closed the door behind her. A black man emerged from the bedroom. He was tall and very handsome, with a superb physique. He wore a pair of jeans and nothing else. He had thick black hair, swept back off his forehead. His nose was long and straight and slightly curved; the lips were slim and wide. His jaw was strong and well-defined, sexily square. His dark eyes were deep-set. He was clean-shaven. His body was stunning: a muscular neck stretched to broad shoulders and led to a wide, deeply cleaved chest. His torso was hairless and smooth, his armpits were shaved clean. His nipples were small and dark and sharp, pulled wide and low on either side of the mighty W of his chest that swept from armpit to armpit. His back was smooth and strong, curved inward to the spine, and snaking down to his taut buttocks. His belly was rock-hard, ridged with slabs of musculature. He was barefoot, and his jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. He stopped in the doorway, with one arm raised, hand resting on the doorjamb and looked at

Sayali impassively.

Sayali paused, studying him, her eyes raking his body. Her face flushed with excitement. Her eyes glittered and her nostrils flared and her lips parted. Dropping her purse on the floor, she moved towards the man, kicking off her sandals. He waited silently, carved out of a stone, an erotic bas-relief.

Sayali was clad in a simple churidar and kurta. Her face was a perfect oval, tapering to a fine chin. Her eyes were elongated, almond-shaped, lined with kajal She had high cheekbones and a fine, straight nose. Her mouth was small, but her lips were full and luscious. She had white, even teeth. Her hair was thick and lustrous, now tied in a plait that reached her buttocks. Her dusky skin was smooth and clear and soft, the colour and texture of honey. A long, elegant neck led smoothly to full, high, ripe breasts, superbly formed and heavy, like succulent mangoes. Her belly was firm and flat, her waist narrow and her hips flared just so, to neatly curved buttocks and slender, long, elegant legs. Her arms were smoothly turned, and her hands and feet were shapely.

She wore a long mangalsutra around her neck, a bindi, gold earrings, gold finger-rings, silver anklets and toe-rings. She dropped her dupatta as she approached the man, and unbuttoned her kurta. Beneath, she was naked.

Before the man, she stopped for a second, her eyes locking with his. Then her hands slid up his torso, caressing him sensuously, and then she bent her head and, moaning softly, licked his nipple.

The man did not move. Sayali groaned and tugged at the cord of her

churidar. It rustled to her feet and she kicked it aside.

Slowly, she drew the kurta off her head. Her breasts were heavy and warm with excitement, her long nipples rigid, her aureoles puckered. She pressed against him, caressing his body, writhing her flesh against his, pushing her hands into his trousers, squeezing his buttocks. Tugging his jeans down, she slithered to her knees before the man. He kicked his jeans aside.

Still limp, the man's circumcised penis was eight inches long and correspondingly thick. It hung from a thatch of neatly trimmed, sparse pubic hair. His balls were heavy and low. His cock and balls were smoothly shorn. Sayali moaned thickly as she took his cock in her hands and caressed it lovingly. Jerking it deftly, she stroked her face with it, her eyes half-closed, her lips fluttering open. His penis stirred in her hands and she slowly took his cock-head in her mouth. A slow grin creased the man's face. His belly rippled. Now he raised his other arm and spread his legs so that he seemed to be spreadeagled in the doorway.

Sayali sucked the man's penis hungrily, holding his shaft and jerking it back and forth. His penis quivered and stirred and began to swell in her mouth and fingers. The man grunted as his penis grew to an enormous size, over ten inches long, nearly two inches thick. Slowly, he flexed his buttocks and slid his hips forward at her face. Sayali groaned and, gripping his hips, took his cock deeper in her mouth, sucking feverishly.

The man was a Nigerian Muslim called Hamid and he was an escaped convict. Arrested for raping the seventeen-year old daughter of the dean of the college where he was a student, he had jumped bail and disappeared. Sayali noticed him one afternoon at the market, while she was shopping for groceries. One look at him and her body blazed with lust. He walked like a panther, his muscles rippling smoothly under his tight T-shirt and jeans. When he left the market, she followed him back to the building. She watched him go inside and waited in her car. Her body was hot with lust as she gazed at his window, trying to picture his body and him fucking her demonically, stroking powerfully in and out of her flesh.

For an entire week, she tailed him from the market, wondering how to get into the flat and his bed. She toyed with the idea of using the direct approach -- going up, ringing the bell and offering herself to him. The more she studied him, the more she wanted him.

Fantasising, she masturbated with her hand between her legs.

A week after she first saw him, she was sitting in her car, just slipping into a particularly erotic fantasy of him sodomising her, when she felt a knife at her throat and heard his voice. He was

in the car, in the back-seat, his lips very close to her ear.

"Outside, bitch," he hissed softly. "Now. One word and I'll rip your throat."

Sayali stifled a scream of surprise. She flicked a glance at him in the rear-view mirror. His face was dark and tense. He reached forward and flicked open her door and shoved her out. Before she could regain her balance, he was behind her, twisting her arm behind her back, the knife at her neck, shoving her forward, hustling her into the building.

"You're hurting me!" she cried, inside.

"Shut up, bitch. Upstairs!"

He pushed her up the stairs, kicked open the door of his flat, shoved her inside and slammed it behind him. As she stumbled forward and turned, she heard the bolts click. He advanced toward her menacingly, holding an enormous glistening knife, one edge saw-toothed. Sayali went cold with fear and backed away slowly.

"Who are you?" he snarled. "What the fuck do you want? Why're you following me? Are you with the cops?"

A long, muscular arm shot out and grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. Sayali cried out.

The sharp point of the knife pressed to her chin. Sayali froze, her eyes wide with fear. The man's face was very close to hers, his breath hot on her face. The knife point slipped lower, to her throat. Sayali went cold. The man's eyes bored into hers, and she seemed to see a glint of excitement deep within. The knife slid sideways and flicked the pallu of her sari off her left shoulder. Her blouse was tight, cut high and short, its neck wide and low, deeply scooped: her breasts bulged in its confines, squeezed together in an enticing cleavage. The lower hem ran hard under her breasts, which jutted out like succulent fruit. Her long

mangalsutra dangled around her neck, the twin strands nestling between her breasts, the amulet on her belly.

The man dragged the point of the knife down her cleavage to the neck of her blouse. He paused. Sayali tensed. He increased the pressure. The knife sliced through her tight blouse. It fell open.

Sayali was naked under it. The man's eyes glittered at the sight of her naked breasts. Gently, he used the point of the knife to lift the blouse off her breasts, moved it gently over her nipples and breasts. Despite the danger of her situation, Sayali felt a frisson of lust and her nipples blossomed in excitement. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes in tension.

For a few seconds, the man toyed with her breasts, running the knife tenderly around her aureoles and nipples, through her cleavage. He was obviously very expert; he did not nick her even once. Sayali grew hot with lust and her nipples throbbed in excitement. The man moved closer and she gasped softly as she felt his tongue and lips at her ear, the knife sliding down her belly.

He paused and then, with a deft flick, cut through her sari and petticoat. She wore no panties and when the clothes rustled to her feet, she was completely naked. The knife slipped to her crotch.

Sayali froze as she felt the cold blade at her cunt-lips.

Then there was a soft click and the pressure of the knife vanished. He cupped her breasts in both hands and swirled his tongue through her earlobe, pressing his crotch to hers. Sayali felt a wave of relief crash over her. Instinctively, she wound her arms around his neck.

"So that's it," the man chuckled softly. "You're chasing black cockmeat."

Sayali opened her eyes and looked at him. He was devilishly sexy.

He was wearing a sleeveless vest and tight jeans. She slid her hands up his incredibly muscular torso, caressing its magnificent contours.

"Yes," she whispered. "That's what I want. Ever since I saw you at the market last week, that's what I've wanted."

"What's your name?"

"Sayali."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you. What do they call you?"

He grinned, his dark eyes twinkling. "Hamid."

Sayali smiled. "Hi, Hamid."

She slid her hands under his vest, rucking it up under his arms, and bent forward to lick his nipple. His hand slid down her belly to her crotch. His fingers came away wet. He moved them to her face and she kissed and licked them sensuously, tasting her cunt-juice. Her fingers slipped to his jeans and she unclasped them, unzipped his fly and slid one hand into his crotch. Her fingers closed around the enormity of his penis.

"Oh god," she moaned. "Oh god yes, I want your cock, Hamid ... c'mon, Hamid ... fuck me ... please ... I want you to fuck me..."

Groaning deliriously, Sayali slid to her knees before Hamid and buried her face in his crotch. For the next three hours, Sayali was fucked and fucked and fucked, relentlessly and repeatedly. He fucked her in every orifice, in her mouth, in her cunt, in her ass, and then he started all over. He was untiring, and alternated at will between a violent, demanding rhythm, plunging greedily into her flesh, ramming and reaming into her so that her slender, lissom body tossed and jerked and thrashed uncontrollably under his, to a gentle, rocking, sawing motion that made her dizzy with pleasure. She came repeatedly and each orgasm left her thirsting for another. Hamid came again and again in copious floods, astonishing her with his powers of recovery and stamina.

Finally sated, they lay in his bed on sheets damp with sweat and sex. She was on her side and he lay behind her, like two saucers drying in dish-rack. He pressed his cock to her buttocks and she murmured softly and squirmed her ass against his crotch, stretching a hand to his groin. He cupped her breast, twined his fingers in her mangalsutra and rasped the cold metal over her nipple. Sayali shuddered in excitement as her nipple popped erect.

"You're one hot cunt," he murmured, nuzzling the nape of her nape, tonguing her ear.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You're quite a stud yourself."

"I know. You're married, aren't you?"

"Yes. A few months ago."

"Are you unhappy in your marriage?"

"On the contrary. It's wonderful."

"Then ... why..."

"I know. It's a bit confusing, and it's a long story."

"We have time."

"Not enough. And I want to know about you."

"That's a long story, too."

"I insist."

"Ladies first."

"Exactly. So my demand is answered first."

Hamid laughed and cupped her breasts. His penis had hardened again and she moaned softly as he pressed it to her buttocks.

"C'mon bitch ... on your front ... I want to fuck you again."

Sayali smiled over her shoulder as she turned on her front, lifting her buttocks to him, offering him her anus without hesitation.

"Want my ass instead?"

For a moment, the Nigerian hesitated, tempted by the sight of her winking anus as she shuffled her knees apart and, reached back, spread her buttocks open for his pleasure.

"You really like butt-fucking me, don't you?" she said.

"Yeh. You've a nice, hot, tight ass and it doesn't hurt you."

"Mm. I like being butt-fucked. And I like that in a guy..."

"What?"

"When he cares whether I'm hurting or not."

"I always care about my women. Fucking them is what I live for."

"Lucky us."

He laughed. "Come on, bitch ... in your cunt now ... I'll fuck your ass later."

Sayali murmured in assent and released her buttocks. Reaching between her legs, leaning on one forearm, she parted her cunt-lips with her first two fingers forming a wide V. Her Nigerian lover pressed his cock-head to her cunt-lips.

"Slowly ... push it in slowly, lover ... let me feel it go in all the way ... OHHH yes! Oh fuck yes! Ohhhhh yes baby yes! That's it ohhh that's so good ... do it Hamid ... fuck me! Fuck my slit, baby ... fuck me!"

Kneeling behind her, holding her hips with one hand and his shaft with the other, Hamid squeezed his cock-head into her cunt. He groaned as her cunt convulsed and contracted powerfully on his penis. He flexed his buttocks and slid his hips slowly forward, savouring the exquisite heat and wetness and tension of her cunt.

His cock rasped between her fingers and plowed into her flesh.

Sayali moaned thickly, her head bowed, her breasts hot, swollen and pendulous, as the enormous cock tunelled deeper and deeper into her belly. In and in it went, enormous, hot, hard, throbbing its desire. Sayali groaned and swirled her hips erotically, grinding and writhing them against his. When his balls pressed against her cunt-lips, she squeezed them eagerly, moaning her pleasure. Hamid groaned, his penis throbbing in her clonic cunt and, his buttocks flexed taut, ground his hips in tight, circular motions. His penis churned her cunt-flesh, mashing her swollen clitoris. Sayali shuddered in pleasure and her head arched, her face suffused with pleasure.

"Now," she groaned. "Fuck me slowly Hamid ... fuck me slowly."

Holding her hips, gasping and panting softly, the muscular

Nigerian began to fuck her with slow, grinding thrusts. Sayali gasped and moaned thickly, jerking and rocking on her forearms and knees under him. Her breasts and long mangalsutra swung back and forth as they moved. The man moved steadily and unhurriedly, pushing his cock in and out of her cunt, squeezing it in as far as he could. Sliding his hands up her body, he cupped and squeezed her hot, heavy breasts. Sayali writhed in pleasure against him.

Fucking her for the umpteenth time that afternoon, Hamid told her about his brush with the law. The fact that he was a criminal, wanted and on the lam only excited her further. She begged him for the details.

"She was seventeen and randy as hell," he told her. "I used to go to her house to take tuitions from her old man. He was the dean of the college and my English was not very good. He was often late coming from college and there was nobody else at home. His wife -- her mother -- had died, and her brother is abroad, and the servants are only part-time. She was fucking good-looking -- not as pretty as you, but pretty anyway and real sexy. Had this fire in her cunt. The first time, she just looked at me in this hungry way she had. The same the next time, and the time after that. Then we got talking and she began to sit down and chat while we waited for her dad. Easy bitch ... take it easy ... yeh ... slow down, whore ... yeh ... ohhh fuck yes..."

"Do it, Hamid ... fuck me ... what happened then?"

"Yeah. Fuck, your cunt is hot, babe..."

"Just ... just don't stop baby ... just keep fucking me ohhh yes

... shove it in slowly lover ... ahhhhh yes ... ohmayes ohhh god yes!"

"Yeh ... so one day, I was waiting as usual and she called me into her room, and I went in and she was stark naked and frigging on her bed, using a cucumber or something. No way I could refuse and

I fucked her like crazy, ramming and reaming into her cunt and making her scream and cry out like a mad woman. She wanted more and more and more. After that, I got to her place earlier and earlier and we fucked and fucked like mad."

"And then?"

"We hadn't fucked like for a week or something and both of us were on the boil and we got going within seconds, right there at the dining table. She stood on the floor and I fucked her from behind and I was fucking her real nice and hard like she liked to be fucked when the old man came in -- just my luck he got out early that day."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah. Real shit. He hit the ceiling and I got the hell out of there while he was calling the cops. I fucking had nowhere to go and I was scared shitless, so they caught me within an hour.

Chucked me in jail and fucking beat me for two days. Then up before some asshole judge who wanted some crazy money for bail and

I was in for good."

"How did you get out?"

"These cops are dumb. Coming out of the court, just one pandu on my wrist and he had to take a leak. He had to piss, can you beat it? So he unlocked my handcuffs and I was out of there before he could touch his prick."

Sayali giggled. "How did you get here?"

"I just ran. Fucking ran like mad, and in the most crowded areas where no one notices and walked and walked and then came here."

"It was empty?"

"Yeah. Absolutely empty. I just grabbed this place. Haven't been out since, except to buy food. Haven't had a cunt to fuck either.

Was going half-mad till I saw you."

"You saw me?"

"Yeah. First day. Got real scared. Waited. Two days later, saw you frigging and figured this wasn't cop work."

Sayali laughed softly. "Nothing of the kind."

"Yeah. That's good."

"Mm. Now c'mon Hamid ... take me ... hard now ... fuck me hard ... ohhhhh fuck yes! OHHHH yes ... ram it in baby oh

Hamid-Hamid-Hamid-Hamid yes Ohh god yes!"

It was late evening when she finally tore herself away from him.

Over the next two weeks, Sayali arranged her secret finances, her earnings from Hedon & Venery and quietly bought the adjacent flat in the name of a cut-out. A week later, and it was painted and furnished and ready. Hamid kept out of sight while the work was going on. Sayali visited the flat a couple of times to supervise.

Once, ogling the gang of three painters, lean and muscular youths, she indulged herself and had them fuck her on the wooden floor, between the high ladders and cans of paint. They fucked her hungrily and repeatedly and, finally, at her insistence, all together, in her cunt and mouth and ass. Later that evening, when

Hamid and she inspected the flat, she told him about it with a twinkle in her eye and, laughing, he grabbed her, bent her over on of the ladders, lifted her sari and, moistening his fingers with his spittle and lubricating her anus, sodomised her thoroughly.

Sayali loved every minute of it.

She knew she was running a risk. By sheltering a wanted criminal, she was breaking the law herself. It could not last and, sooner or later, she would have to tell Jayant and ask for his help. Then, perhaps, she would have to tell Suresh, too. But not yet. She still had not had her fill of the Nigerian, and she had no intention of losing him to a squalid jail. She enjoyed the thrill of secret assignations, of keeping it from Suresh just for the fun of it. With luck, even once Jayant knew, she might be able to continue with the arrangement.

That was three months ago and, in that time, Sayali visited him at least twice a week. Fortunately, her job at Hedon & Venery required her to report in over the weekend, and she had occasionally spent the entire time with Hamid, being fucked relentlessly. Their understanding was clear. Till he was exonerated, he was not to leave the house. She would provide for him. In return, he was required to fuck her whenever and for as long she wanted. The arrangement suited Hamid eminently. She brought him food and drink and pornographic magazines and put in a

TV set with surround sound and a laser disk system and checked out the latest Hedon & Venery skin flicks for him. He was well looked after, and wanted for little, and she was an outstanding fuck.

Now she sucked his penis, gripping his hips and rocking her head rapidly back and forth. Hamid remained as he was, his head bent, watching her suck his cock, his arms aloft, hands gripping the lintel of the doorway. He pumped his hips steadily back and forth, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, driving his cock in and out of her mouth. Her tongue and lips were magical and he felt the heat build and surge in his groin. The musky taste of his cock aroused her and she began to masturbate, caressing and squeezing her turgid breasts, thrusting a hand into her crotch and running a finger in and out of her wet cunt. Pausing, she rose slightly to squeeze her breasts around his cock as she licked his navel.

"Are you going to stay like this forever, stud?"

"Yup. You want to fuck, you do the work."

"And I suppose you don't want to fuck?"

"I'm keeping my side of our deal."

"Bastard."

"Probably." Hamid laughed softly at the expression of naked lust on her face. "Do what you like, bitch. I'm not moving. Fuck yourself on my cock."

Sayali moaned softly in excitement. She bent her head and sucked his cock again for a few minutes, hungrily taking him deep in her mouth and licking his cock-head frantically. He grunted, chuckled.

Whimpering, she rose, kissing and licking his magnificent torso, sucking his nipples one by one till she was on her feet. Grinding her cunt against his rampant penis, holding it in one hand and pressing it to her cunt, she wound an arm around his head and kissed him hungrily, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. Her breasts were hot and heavy on his chest.

"God I love your body," she murmured.

Panting with excitement, she turned around with her back to him.

Spreading her legs wide, she leaned slowly forward, bending her torso further and further till she was folded almost in half. Her buttocks and hips were arched upward to his groin. Her hands on her shins, Sayali shuffled backward slowly. Hamid's rampant penis pressed against her buttocks. She reached between her legs with one hand and took his penis and guided it to her cunt. For a second she paused with his cock-head encircled in her fingers at her cunt-lips. Then her buttocks spread wide and she slid her hips upward and back with a soft moan and the cock-head slipped between her fingers and into her cunt. She shuddered in deep pleasure as the enormity and heat of it bit into her wet cunt. Hamid held perfectly still. With his cock firmly embedded in her cunt, Sayali held her shins in both hands and, bent steeply forward, began to slide her cunt back onto his throbbing erection. The Nigerian grunted softly, his head bent, watching in fascination as the young woman's buttocks creased wider and wider open and her juicy, tight cunt slid back up the length of his monstrous erection. Her cunt was fiery hot and sodden, and, as it convulsed on his throbbing penis, he was tempted to yield and thrust into her. He controlled himself with an effort.

"Ohhh ma unhhh ohhh god you bastard ohhh yes!" Sayali gasped as she took more and more of his cock into her flesh. "God yes ... ohhh god yes!"

Her buttocks swayed and writhed and began to churn in slow circles, grinding round with a tight little snap. Her cunt spiralled slowly and inexorably on the seemingly endless length of his cock. Her long mangalsutra dangled free, sliding up high on the back of her neck. Her heavy, swollen breasts ached for his touch. She squeezed them with one hand. Her mangalsutra flipped against her chin, and she caught it in her lips and bit it in tension. His penis was enormous, hot, hard, thick and heavy and it pulsed slowly and steadily in her flesh. He was like a statue carved of rock, hard and still. On and on she went, backing herself onto his cock till, finally, she had him fully in her cunt. Slowly, her head arched and her head rose, suffused with lust, the long mangalsutra between her lips, her long neck craned, her breasts succulent and pendulous, their nipples nut-hard.

The long years of ardent and strenuous fucking had made her supple and strong. She felt no strain in the odd position. Her long legs took the tension smoothly and easily. Moaning deep in her throat, she bent further forward and slid her hands back to clench his calves. Now she was bent over, her arms stretched back, pinning his body to hers. Hamid's fingers tightened on the lintel. He waited, taking slow, deep breaths to control himself. His balls and groin blazed with lust-heat. She was an incredible piece of ass.

Holding his legs, her buttocks pressed hard to his crotch, Sayali groaned and began to grind her hips erotically round and round.

His huge cock mashed her cunt-flesh, rasping over the hard stub of her inflamed clitoris. She groaned deep in her throat and began to rock slowly back and forth, sliding her cunt up and down the length of his cock. Hamid held perfectly still and watched as her cunt-lips moved along his shaft. Her cunt convulsed on his penis and he groaned. Her buttocks slapped gently against his thighs, pressed against his balls. Hamid longed to grab her hips and fuck her hard, to ram his cock into her cunt. He controlled himself and made her continue working for her pleasure.