Fulfilling Fantasies

Mallika felt like she was in a hurry, that she wanted to do everything at once.

She had given the stranger, ("Call me Harry, all my friends do. It's actually Hari."), the address of her secret pad, just off the outskirts of the city. Not merely the address, she had slipped a couple of other items into the pocket of his pants before he could wear them, as well.

"Read them," she had winked at him. "And call me on that number.

One was a clipping from a newspaper and it pertained to Christina Aguilera's interview and the second list, which was quite exhaustive and graphic, listed neatly and in chronological order, what Mallika wanted to do over the next week. This second list ran into several pages and for a moment he was bewildered.

"Read those pages specifically. You will understand. Tomorrow afternoon at two, Harry," she had whispered, rearranging her dress, watching him pull on his trousers.

He was nodding smugly. Shit, he had just fucked Mallika Sherawat, that sex bomb craved by a million guys over the country. And here she was asking him to meet her at her secret pad!

"Make sure you don't let anyone near the building. Give this card to the security and he will let you in. Now, hurry up and do the disappearing act. I've got to get on stage."

Harry sneaked back to his place in the crowd and watched her smile at the audience when she came on the stage and then she gave a little speech, rubbing shoulders against the best in the film industry. That she had worked with Jackie Chan had made most directors sit up and take a closer look at her.

He couldn't believe his luck. Why him?

He thought about it throughout the night after he had read the incredible list of things she wanted to do. He had spoken to her on her private number for over half-an-hour just to confirm that she really wanted to do it. She had described the scenarios she would be having ready so that these things could be done.

And throughout the night he had this erection. He just couldn't help it. The thought of these things-to-do that Mallika had listed were mind-blowing.

Damn it, he thought. Here I am, having fucked Mallika to heaven come, and still having to jack off! He could hardly wait for tomorrow to come.

He went through the list again. It wasn't a list: it was more of a script, which read like a series of porno articles and stories.

He was going to make that bitch beg for more.

******

Mallika's Story

A quiet serene apartment, tucked away in a corner on the fifth floor of a large building on the fringes of a beach.

It was actually a building for celebrities like her to live in relative anonymity. It was here that they came to unwind. A top security firm was engaged to keep away the paparazzi and the common public. Only a few highly placed people (industrialists, politicians, cops and film actors included) knew of the building.

I grabbed his hands after locking the door and pulled him inside. I was wearing a transparent two-piece silk gown, tight enough to reveal my curves, especially my large breasts. The gown was split up in the middle revealing a lot of the midriff and the tight blouse had loose fitting sleeves.

I rose to my toes and kissed him, my arms circling his shoulders. He clutched my buttocks and ground his semi-hard shaft against my washboard belly as he allowed my tongue to enter his mouth. I moaned when he sucked on it, squeezing the firm buttocks.

I pulled back, smiling at him.

"Hello, Harry," I said coquettishly.

"Hi," he replied hoarsely, his hands still fondling my buttocks, and then sliding up to caress the sides of my waist.

"Let's take it a bit easy, ok?" I said, pulling him to the couch. It was a fair sized living room with a home-theatre system rigged up at one end. The couch, upon which I pushed him, was also big. Three overstuffed chairs facing the couch and an ornate centerpiece completed the furniture. He noticed that all the curtains had been drawn down and I had switched on a low watt bulb for illumination. At one corner there was a massive door above which was hung a Van Goth duplicate. A grandfather clock ticked away at one corner of the room, next to a well stocked bar.

He eased himself onto the couch, watching me walk over to the bar.

"Drink?" I asked him in my husky voice.

"Anything you are having," he replied confidently, "though I'd rather not waste time."

I arched her brows at him quizzically as I mixed the vodkas. "Waste?"

"I mean, wouldn't you rather fuck?"

I laughed, showing him my white teeth. Good, he had read my list quite thoroughly and was ready to play the games. His eyes were drawn to my deep cleavage revealed at the top of the gown that plunged provocatively and dangerously low.

"All in good time," I replied, carrying the glasses to the couch. I handed him one and lowered myself on the couch beside him.

As I sipped my drink, I looked at him from under my lashes. He seemed to be in a hurry, because he was gulping down his drink at a fast clip.

"Easy," I told him and he immediately relaxed.

He laid the glass on the armrest of the couch and looked at me. "Sorry," he said. "But I seem to find this really out of the world. Your rather graphic script is something!"

"Have you ever seen two women doing it together?" I purred, finally getting into the game.

He almost spilled his drink, choking on it.

"Shall we begin? Who is it?"

"Supposing I tell you that she is someone just like me. I mean, she is an actor as well."

"Oh wow," he exclaimed.

"Hey Sam," I called out, not taking my eyes away from his.

His eyes swung to the door in the corner, which was slowly opening. He held his breath as the figure walked in. At first, it was not very clear who it was. Plus, I thought, the name was so utterly misleading; it could have belonged to a man.

But that wasn't the sequence of the script that I had in mind.

He drew his breath in sharply when she finally stood in the center of the room, the light spilling over her.

"Sameera!" he gasped.

"Yes. Sameera Reddy. In the flesh," I replied.

She was not exactly a new entrant, but then, neither was she around for a very long time. I had always been attracted to this dusky and sexy girl, right from the time that she had been introduced to me at a party.

"Oh shit, this is incredible," he muttered, squirming on the couch.

Sameera stood before me, eying him curiously. She was clad in a translucent dress. When she came off the doorway, he had concentrated on her face, on the sheer beauty of the features of it. She was like a statue, a sculptor's dream realized after hours of hard work till she had an appearance that at once looked like being chipped by the chisel with a lot of loving care.

She was of medium height, long dark hair, soft and silky that reached her buttocks, a high forehead and dark smoldering eyes. Her full lips, painted dark red, looked to have a perpetual pout.

Now that she was standing in front of me, bathed with the dim light of the bulb, I could see (and I am sure, so could he) her body, emphasized by that translucent dress. Extraordinary! The sheer dress clung to her skin, the absence of a bra apparent. The round neck top of the dress was unbuttoned to the midpoint between her large breasts. I could clearly see the way her nipples punched against the fabric.

Obviously, so had he. He swallowed his drink in two large gulps, his eyes bugging out of the sockets.

"Why don't you sit on that chair?" I told him.

Without thinking, his eyes swiveling between the two of us, he rose and groggily walked up to the chair. Lowering himself on it, he accepted the second glass that I filled up, and then watched as I walked to another chair, directly opposite him.

It was the most uncomfortable chair in the room, a wooden backed, armless one. But that was part of the game.

Sameera moved over to the couch. When she moved, the slow, fluid motion of her thighs, her stomach and pelvis combined into an amazing rhythm so that it gave an effect of her gliding, not merely walking.

When she leaned forward to pick up my glass to sip from it, her lovely, braless and naked breasts were revealed almost to her nipples.

Initially, I had wanted to pick up somebody else. Like maybe Rimi Sen. But after having experienced first hand the penchant of tits by Harry, I had propositioned the exciting Sameera instead. In the tits department, she was way ahead of Rimi.

I made a small gesture to him.

It was the beginning. He was to be the aggressor along with Sameera. I wanted to play the dumb bitch.

He cleared his throat, picked up his glass and croaked, "What shall we toast?"

"It's your prerogative," whispered Sameera, speaking for the first time.

He was taken aback. "W-well then, shall I suggest the end of an unusually hot summer?"

She laughed. "No way! I wasn't in Mumbai and look at me! I have barely got back my tan!"

He tried to smile casually, his eyes popping as Sameera leaned back as if to prove her point by displaying the front of her luxurious body. She extended her long legs, looking at them critically and tucked them under her on the couch.

"What about you, Mallika? Are you ready for a change of seasons?" he asked me.

He was good! Under the circumstances, he was quite cool though the bulge between his legs was a dead giveaway.

"I am always ready for change, to see that things keep moving on," I replied, glancing at Sameera who was looking at him curiously.

"Not like a fish then," he said. "You are more like a shark, always wanting to move forward, never drifting."

"You could say that," I replied, amazed at the sudden burst of confidence in him. But as I said, once a guy fucks a woman, the level of his confidence rises.

"Mallika is a modest girl," Sameera interrupted, and I almost laughed. I bunched my shoulders together so that my tits appeared to bulge out of the top of my dress.

"Perhaps we should help her out then," he said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing blue smoke at me.

Sameera rose off the couch and came up behind me. I was wearing my hair up in a bun, and I felt the feathery touch of her fingertips against the hollow of my neck, giving me goose bumps.

Sameera was a dear friend okay. And when I had confessed to her about Christina's interview, she had looked strangely at me.

"You never made it with a woman before?" she had asked me.

"Strangely, no. And whatever it was, maybe just a bit of kissing and fondling, Sam," I had told her.

Now, as I felt her fingertips tracing small lines across my neck, I shivered.

"She's tense," he said. "Maybe it's because of all those pins in that bun on top of her head."

Sameera's fingers began to work in my hair, removing the pins. My long hair tumbled down around my shoulders and down my back over the satin of my blouse that I was wearing with the two-piece gown.

"Are you tense?" Sameera whispered huskily.

"No, I mean yes, oh, well, just maybe."

"She can't make up her mind, Sam," he said, sliding down on his chair, making no effort now to hide his bulge. Talk about confidence!

Sam's fingernails were running lightly down my arms, gently skimming my sensitive skin through the loose fitting sleeves. I was aroused to a point that I thought that I wasn't breathing. Her fingers came around to my sides and very slowly eased towards the front, reaching the outer swells of my breasts.

He watched from the chair, taking deep drags on the cigarette as if he was smoking some dope. His eyes were drawn to where Sameera's fingers were now tantalizingly grazing my nipples.

I had already been on a short fuse and the feel of her nails on the nipples made them swell even more.

"We have a long session ahead of us, Mallika," he said. "Do you think you'd be capable of handling that?"

I nodded. Too eagerly, I thought.

Sameera was unbuttoning my blouse, her long lustrous hair falling around my cheeks as she bent forward. I could smell her skin and her vodka breath.

The last button undone, Sameera gently tugged the blouse upwards. I grabbed her hands and held them there, refusing her the permission to whisk my blouse off my body. She did not force the issue. Rather, she merely raised her head and looked at Harry.

We were all players now, following the script I'd written so laboriously after having read Christina's piece in the newspaper aboard the aircraft. It had made me so randy then that I would have fucked a horse! But then I knew that if I really wanted myself to let go, it would have to be done with a lot of patience and a lot of games.

He noticed it. "Perhaps," he said softly, "you are still not ready, Mallika. It has been a long time for you, you know."

I held his eyes. "No. I am ready."

I slid my hands up to Sam's wrists and squeezed them before letting go. It was the signal.

"Good," he murmured, taking another sip of the vodka.

Sam pulled the blouse aside, letting it fall past my shoulders to reveal the small bra that barely held my tits in place. Hell, the bra only served to bunch them up, scooping them together to pronounce the deep line between them.

Sam slid her fingers down my neck to the clasp that held the bra at the front. I stared at him as I felt her undoing the clasp and tugging out the bra, whisking it off.

I sat straight in the chair, naked to the waist. I folded my hands across my lap, and this made my upper arms push my tits together.

I felt my juices beginning to flow between my legs and as unobtrusively as I could, I parted my legs, lightly pushing my hands into my crotch.

But Sameera noticed it and leaning down pushed my arms aside till they were hanging limply down the sides of the armless chair.

She began playing with my breasts, rubbing them with her palms. She brought her fingers together till they met at the nipples. I gasped when she pulled the nipples outward, stretching them as far as they could go.

She laid her chin on the top of my head, inhaling the smell of my freshly washed hair.

"Hmmm...that smells nice," she muttered, still rolling my nipples between her fingers, making me squirm on the wooden chair. Then, just as quickly, she took her hands off my body.

"Does it?" he enquired from his chair, crushing out his cigarette in the ashtray and lighting up another. I looked at him and his eyes, which were fastened on my naked breasts, had now shifted to a space behind me. I continued to look at him, taking short and quick peeks at the bulge between his legs.

Sameera came around and knelt beside me now to work on undoing the bottom of my gown. My eyes were still riveted to Harry and I suddenly did a startled double take as I noticed from the corner of my eyes that Sam was now completely naked. It was where he had just been staring.

Not that she had much undressing to do: she was wearing too few garments. Just a couple of buttons at the front and the one-piece sheer dress that had been clinging to her luscious body would have slithered down. I was disappointed, because I really wanted to watch her undress.

Like I said, she was like a statue carved out from marble. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her body proportioned so neatly, that she looked like something carved out from a one-piece slab of marble.

Her large heavy breasts stood high and firm on her chest without any hint of sag. Her waist was so narrow; I thought that Harry could encircle it with one hand. Yet, down below, she had perfectly rounded buttocks and shapely hips and strong thighs, the strength offset by the length of her legs.

My glance flicked down her flat belly and I noticed the perfect, neatly trimmed inverted triangle of her bush. My heart began thudding so loudly; I knew she could listen to it as well.

Her breasts jiggled fluidly when she reached out, unclasped the side of my gown, and tugged the hidden zipper down my hip.

"Aren't you uncomfortable with this?" she murmured, pulling the garment down my waist.

"I think she is," he replied for me. "And I think she needs to lift her ass off the chair so that you could slide the gown down her legs and make her feel more comfortable."

Without waiting for her to say something, I raised my bottom off the chair to allow her to pull the gown down over my hips. She folded it neatly and tucked it away, under the chair.

I was now wearing just my panties and nothing else. I lowered myself back onto the chair because Sameera made no move to remove the panties. Instead, she was now busy fondling my large breasts, toying with the erect nipples, leaning forward to blow her warm breath on them.

"I thought I said comfortable, not half comfortable," he said, setting his glass back on the table.

Without waiting for further instructions, I lifted my hips again and she tugged down my panties in one swift motion. She had to shuffle back to strip the garment off my legs.

Then, she just knelt there, barely a foot away from me as I settled back on the chair. She reached out and gently pried my legs apart. She was kneeling at an angle to my body, not directly in front, so that he too could see my bare pussy.

"I think Sameera deserves a little kiss for that, doesn't she?" he remarked.

I bent awkwardly on the chair and to the side where she was kneeling. I placed my lips on hers: she had already tilted her head up.

As soon as our lips met, I felt hers opening under mine. They were warm and this only made me get hotter. I opened my lips too and gently accepted her tongue that she inserted into my mouth.

She placed her hands on my hips for support as she pressed her mouth harder against mine. My hands were still hanging limply by my sides as we kissed for perhaps a full minute.

"Enough!" he said harshly.

Quickly, I straightened on the chair, almost embarrassed that I would have failed in my own script.

"Come here, Sam," he called out.

She rose to her feet in a single fluid motion. She once again pried my legs apart, as if to remind me that I was not to close them and keep exposing my now burning pussy to their eyes.

I watched as she walked sensually to him.

"Dip your fingers in my drink," he told her bringing his glass forward when she stopped a foot away from him. I could see that he was struggling to remain in control. The poor guy probably never had seen a couple of nude women before. Certainly not a couple of nude women that half the country would want to fuck.

Sameera dipped her fingers in the vodka and kept them there for as much as a minute, looking steadily at him. She had her back to me so I didn't really know whether she was smiling at him. But he was smiling at her.

"Give her cunt a drink," he said.

She turned on her heels and walked back to me gracefully, her fingers curled to prevent the liquor from dribbling down. She knelt back on the floor where she had been kneeling before.

Her hair almost touched the floor when she tilted her head up at me. She was smiling. A strained smile, but nevertheless she was making the effort.

I gasped aloud when I felt her sliding her wet fingers up along the folds of my pussy. The liquor burned me there. My pussy was already on fire and this not too unpleasant burning added fuel to my state of arousal. Just as quickly, she withdrew her hands from my cunt and stood up.

I wanted to bring my legs together, rub my cunt with my fingers, but refrained from doing so. She spun around on her heels and walked back to him, this time standing beside his chair.

It was remarkable that the man would play along. It showed his restraint. I wouldn't have blamed him if he had whipped out his pants and pounced on Sameera.

She draped her hand around his shoulders as they stared at me. Her legs were apart.

"Don't I deserve something from you?" she questioned.

He was still holding his cigarette in one hand. He glanced quickly at her. Her pussy was in level with his head. He dipped the fingers of his free hand in his glass and then indolently and almost disdainfully slid his middle finger up into her cunt in one swift movement.