Part 1
A simple and harmless carpooling turns lustful between two sex-starved people. They unleash the devils within each other and resolve not to tame them!Hello ISS readers! How’s it hanging? This is Jeevan again, and I am back with another of my sexcapades. I hope you enjoyed my story with my maid. After all, fun and love increase by spreading. So there is no reason you shouldn’t get a piece of the action!
I am not a hunk with a gym body or that well-endowed in the size department. So I make up for it with endurance and minute attention to lovemaking, more towards giving pleasure than receiving.
This story is from the pre-lockdown days when office commute was daily. The year 2019 was a hot one in Hyderabad. Temperatures soared to the mid-40 degrees. Those who have travelled to the office in the afternoon shift know the feeling of how cars turn into tandoor!
This was when someone advised me to use a carpool app. So other commuters from nearby areas can carpool and pay you a small amount for the fuel. (And the added benefits, which you will know later in the story.) I installed the app and verified myself and my Fiat Palio.
I immediately got a message from a co-rider from my gated colony. Let’s call her Shwetha. It turned out she worked in the same MNC that I did and had similar work hours.
As our area is a little to the city’s outskirts, getting an Uber or Ola was next to impossible. So she was facing a lot of issues. She wasn’t allowed to WFH frequently or get a change of shift. That day, I waited at the colony’s entrance, and she almost ran inside my car to escape the heat.
My AC was full, so she preferred to sit in the front passenger seat. She was dressed in a simple, loose skirt and top. But the looseness of the fabric was barely able to hide the size of her 36D breasts. The ankle-length skirt could barely hide her shapely, waxed legs.
Her dark skin was shining with sweat. Making you go down on your knees and beg her to let you lick her from head to toe if you have that kink! As we started our 15km drive, she introduced herself. She worked as a Tax Consultant and joined a few months ago.
I told her that I work in the IT department. It turned out we had exchanged a few emails over some IT issues in the past. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?” she said with a bright smile. I acknowledged the same while trying to focus on the road and not get distracted by her easygoing nature.
Guys, trust me, a confident woman is a big turn-on if you look at it the right way. To avoid any awkward silence, Shwetha plugged in her iPod to the car’s aux and started playing music. Suddenly there was a loud audio of a woman’s moaning. It sounded like someone was having an orgasm.
Shwetha let out what sounded like a Guilty shriek and pulled the aux cable out of the player. The next minute was spent in total silence. Shwetha was in a frozen state, and I had transitioned to robot driver mode. After a minute, we reached a major traffic signal where there is usually a 5-minute wait.
I decided to break the ice and told her, “It’s alright. We are just human. So we should take that in our stride and move on.” Shwetha replied in a trance-like voice, “That’s what I tried to do and somehow ended up recording it.” Suddenly she snapped out of it, realising what she had just confessed.
She said, “Please don’t think I am a cheap woman for doing or saying this. Please forget what I said.”
I turned towards her and looked her in the eyes. I replied, “For real? Are you from the 15th century or something? Why would you say something self-demeaning like that? You have no reason or obligation to defend your actions. If people judge or think of you as cheap, it shows their backward thinking.”
She let out an audible gasp and thanked me for not being judgemental and respecting her. Now that the ice was broken, she started sharing her personal life. She had married a guy while doing her MBA in the US. He was an abuser, forcing her to do all household work and take care of his needs.
She barely managed to complete her studies. The day she got her degree, she emptied her bank account, took a taxi to the airport and took the next flight to Hyderabad.
Her parents had bought the house in our colony for investment purposes. But now she lived there. Her parents visit her from their hometown from time to time.
I shared with her how I moved to the city. I had a breakup and indulged in work to keep my sanity. She smiled wickedly and said, “Another kindred soul, then. I hope you don’t hit the Record button by accident,” followed by a wink.
I replied, “Don’t have to. I use a 43-inch TV with 100 watts speakers.” We laughed at that, which somehow brought us closer to a level we still didn’t realise.
While this conversation was going on, Shwetha had become more comfortable in her seat. One sign was that she had spread her legs more than before and folder her hands behind the seat, letting the AC vent cool her to the fullest extent.
As I kept changing gears, the back of my left hand kept rubbing against her thighs. After half the distance was covered, Shwetha noticed the same. She somehow spread her legs a little more, causing regular friction between the fabric of her skirt and the back of my hand.
Friction produces heat, heat produces fire, and it eventually engulfs us. She said as we reached the office parking, “I love how you keep changing gears. Very sensible driving and also giving the passenger full comfort.” With that, she just winked and left.
I went to my work floor. But my ears were ringing with what she had just said. The next 8 hours somehow flew by. As we fixed login/logout times, I got a WhatsApp text that said, “So, is my gallant knight ready with his chariot?” It took me a few seconds to realise it was Shwetha’s number.
I replied, “Your chariot awaits, mi lady. Your knight is at your service in any way you like.” Her reply was, “Careful what you promise. You may have to make good of them sooner than later.” With more such innuendo-filled messages, we met at the parking and started our commute back home.
Suddenly, Shwetha said she wasn’t in the mood to go home yet, as it was just 10 PM. She wanted to go to a quiet place where we could talk. So we went to the Osman Sagar road, which is usually empty at that time. We parked near the almost empty lake.
Shwetha turned towards me and said, “I don’t know why my instinct is telling me to confide this in you. But I feel tired of taking care of my own needs, although I don’t trust someone with my feelings.” I told her that I understood the problem. The solution is to be in a no-strings-attached relationship.
The inside of the car was full of sexual tension. I couldn’t measure which heat was more; outside the car or inside. Shwetha looked me straight in the eyes and said, “JV, let’s take care of each other’s needs,” and moved her face towards mine. Our quivering lips met mid-way and crushed against each other.
My left hand got its own life. Before I realised it, it had moved to the back of her head and held her hair. It kept her face smashed against mine as my lips started sucking her lower lips like they were possessed. Shwetha’s eyes were almost welded shut.
Her hands slowly raised the lower edge of her top and the hem of her skirt. I could see the chocolate skin of her belly and her thighs in the dim light. I kept my right hand on her knees and ran my nails in circles over her kneecap. A hissing sound escaped her lips.
She opened her lips to let her tongue into a fight. Very soon, our tongues were embroiled in a one-on-one fight, each trying to entangle the other while exploring the inner walls of the mouth. After a little while, I stopped running my nails on her knees.
I placed the flat of my palm on her right knee. My fingertips were touching the inside area where the thighs begin. She moved her knee wider so my fingertips touched even more inside her soft, creamy skin. Her left hand took my palm and placed it on her bare left breast.
It was, by then, freed from the imprisonment of her bra cup by her right hand. I kept my palm on her breast and slowly pressed it. My other hand slowly moved to the back of her neck. I started massaging the space where the hairline ends and the skin is bare.
I felt a shudder run through her at the dual ministrations of my hands. She quickly pulled up the right bra cup and started palming her right breast as if offering it to me. I rubbed her left nipple with the flat of my palm in circular motions, making it hard as a marble.
I still hadn’t squeezed her breasts. When it comes to foreplay, the fun is in the anticipation of what’s next. I moved my left hand down to her lower back. I pushed it inside her top and started caressing her back, slowly moving up to her bra strap.
As soon as my fingertips touched the hooks, Shwetha immediately reached back with both hands. She opened the hooks, freeing the bra and making it easy to remove. I moved my left hand upwards and pressed her body towards me. With my right hand, I grasped her breast and squeezed it.
Shwetha let out a moan that would give an erection to a dead man’s dick. I started squeezing her breast like kneading dough. I started kissing and sucking her lips again while my left hand was now at the front, rubbing her navel.
Shwetha removed her bra and dropped it into the foot well. She raised her skirt. I started squeezing her left breast with my right hand. I started caressing the inside of her thighs with just fingertips, moving from knees to inside. My fingertips touched the edge of her panty line.
It felt like a steam sauna, with all the heat and moisture trapped there. Shwetha opened her legs wider, giving me more access to her crotch. I held her right nipple between the tips of my thumb and index. I rolled it like the knob of a radio. That seemed to find the right channel, and Shwetha rasped, “Aaah.”
Finally, she couldn’t take it any more. She held my head by my hair and pushed it towards the other breast. My lips clamped around the left nipple like a magnet. I started running my tongue around it in circles while gently rubbing the nipples with my teeth.
Meanwhile, my right hand was now inside her skirt, flirting with her panty line. Slowly teasing it open and rubbing over the edges of the V of her crotch. “What the fuck are you waiting for? You want to kill me or make me beg, madarchodh?”
I had never heard a woman swear like this during sex. I thought it happened only in porn. Le ignoramus me! Her swear words turned me on so much. I pushed my fingers inside the edge of her panty, held the crotch area and started pulling it out.
Shwetha raised her hips to let the panty slide out over the sweaty skin of her legs and pooled around her ankle. She reclined the backrest back to get the full width of the seat. Then she turned to face me and raised her legs while folding her knees.
This gave me unrestricted access to her clean-shaven pubes. I could see them glisten with wetness like they had their own life. Her clit was pulsating in and out. Now that, as Don would say, was definitely an offer I couldn’t refuse. I moved the tip of my index and middle finger to her clit.
I rubbed it in circles while my left hand squeezed and kneaded her soft, 36D breasts like there was no tomorrow. Shwetha had turned her head back and upwards. With closed eyes and open mouth, gasping and going along with the flow.
Her hand tugged at my hair even harder. I moved my tongue circles gradually downwards to her navel, which shivered like ripples in a pond. I stuck my tongue into her navel. Shwetha let out a prolonged moan. “Hmmm, eat me, bhosdike. Don’t make me beg, bhenchodh.”
At that moment, something inside me snapped. My inner beast mode got activated. I pushed her back towards the door and lowered my face onto her pussy. I sucked her clit like it was going to give me life-saving juices. Her pussy and the surrounding area smelled of a musky odour of her precum and sweat. It’s the best intoxicant in the world.
I don’t know why someone would take other artificial drugs when one can snort this pool of nectar and get the best High of life! While holding both her nipples in my fingertips and rubbing like I would pull them off, I sucked hard on her clit while humming.
This tipped her over the edge as her 1st orgasm hit her. The floodgates had now burst open. She squirted god knows how many litres of her nectar straight into my mouth. But the beast has an insatiable appetite for organic and orgasmic juice.
So I kept lapping it up, even sucking the outside of her pussy to make sure not a single drop goes waste. Her slightly pungent yet heady juices smelt like a mix of lust and pee. She told me later that she had peed just before she left the office. She hadn’t washed her pussy as she was anticipating I would lick it clean.
I, too, confessed to her that I had a pee fetish. I felt Shwetha’s body lose all the tightness and go into fully relaxed mode. She felt like she had fainted in an orgasmic stupor. I kept licking her clean, even the sweaty thighs and corners of her crotch.
She slowly opened her eyes. I finally raised my face to her, the triumphant warrior who had slayed the dragon. She looked at my face glistening with the wetness of her juices. She gave an exhausted but angelic smile.
Just 12 hours ago, we were total strangers, unaware of each other’s existence. Now we had one of the most intimate moments a man and a woman can have. (Woke generation, please don’t criticise my choice of words. We all have our styles, and I mean no disrespect to other gender choices.)
The 1st words out of her mouth were. “How do we take this forward? I am far from done with this. You have no idea what you have unleashed within me, something I had caged into control over the years.” I replied with a Bond-ish quote, “Now do you know I can rise to the challenge?”
How we took this to the next level and satisfied each other, I will post in the next episode. If you liked it, please give your feedback in the comments section. Your encouragement is what a storyteller seeks to keep the story alive!
