I love dicks. Always did. I was astonished by the idea of a dick becoming hard when the man is horny.
So, since the days when I started going on dates, whenever I ended up making out with a boy, my hand would wander and reach his dick in no time. The feeling of a dick growing in my hand turned me on so much. So it never used to take much time for that make out session to turn into an oral session.
I love the feeling of a hard dick. The science of a brain sending the signal that I'm turning the man on and blood flowing into the dick and making it hard and ready for penetration so that he can cum inside my pussy and breed me. It in my opinion is the most primal instinct of any human being.
It makes me happier if that boner is caused by me. The happiest if I can take care of them. I don't remember a single date where the guy's dick was not in my hand or mouth, and I used to go on a lot of dates. Well, that's a different story.
So when I started wearing revealing clothes in this village, the thought of men getting a boner because of me and them thinking of me at night when they jerk off.. everything gave me so much pleasure.
In the recent days, things have started taking a turn where I am horny to another level, I feel like there's need for me to give boner to whoever comes to me and me myself have to take care of that hard cock where their cum ends up in or on my body. Just obeying the nature's laws ;)
That poor tailor who was sitting peacefully, I teased him, turned him on, gave him a boner, I myself took care of it with my mouth and pussy, made him cum and I drank it. I felt so content. Now I have the urge to do it again and again.
Immediately after I reached back home from the ATM, I stripped off the leggings and top.
First of all it was so hot and I wanted to wear something much comfier, secondly I could smell the sweat and cum of the tailor on me.
I wore a short shorts which, if I pulled up, would have half of my ass on display and the spaghetti straps top that I had bought from the street seller who had come to my house.
It was so small, but loose around my body and was made of a very thin white material.
My navel was on display, so was my cleavage.
Nipples were poking on the sheer top as well.
I pressed the top on my boobs, I could see every single detail of my areolas and even the color of my nipples. I was getting turned on again. What is wrong with me!! I decided to step out to distract myself.
I was wondering if I can wear this in front of everyone.
My gramps might have an issue with it, so I decide to wear a shawl. It ended up in V shape covering my boobs. I pulled the shorts down so that the bottom of my ass was not on display.
I went outside my room, washed my mouth that reeked of tailor's cum, drank some water to wash down the cum from my throat, went to my grandpa and gave the money to him.
He said: "Keep it with you and give it directly to the painter when he comes. Write down the expenses as well in a notebook and show to me everything once it's over."
Oh my God. That's a big responsibility. I was sacred, but excited at the same time. I said OK, took out a notebook, wrote down today's date and the amount I took from the ATM.
I was wondering where did Rahul go. I didn't see him while I was coming back from the ATM as well. I texted him, a 'Hi.'
It got delivered, but no response.
I kept the phone away and sat down to study for a while.
I studied for straight two hours. Grandma came and told me the lunch is ready.
While having lunch, grandpa said that the painter will be coming in the afternoon, he will explain to granddad about the work that has to be done, then give an estimate of the price, I'll have to give it to him and write it down.
Not much job. I thought.
After finishing the lunch, I went to my room, Gramps to theirs. I lied down for a bit, felt sleepy.
I shut my eyes. I could think of that creepy pervert tailor fucking me in his shop which is in the middle of the road, while the guy who has the biggest crush on me was standing across the road.
I started getting wet. My fingers slowly started going to my pussy.
Rahul still hadn't replied to my texts. I wondered why.
I texted Wasim, my real bf, lol, asking if he can come at night.
I started getting horny, thinking, what if Rahul saw the tailor fucking me and me sucking his dick and swallowing his cum. I was getting hugely turned on by this. I touched my pussy. It has become super wet. I slowly started fingering it more. I removed my shorts and panties, spread my legs wide and started rubbing my clit and pussy.
"Uncle..!"
Somebody was calling from outside.
'Who the fuck is this now?!' I became so irritated.
I looked out. It was the same guy who had come the other day to talk with my granddad. Ohhh.. it's the painter. Why the fuck is he here now? It's just 2 o'clock. Isn't he supposed to come in the afternoon? I mean, later? I wondered and got irritated.
I wore my shorts, took the shawl, wore it like V, covering my braless boobs in the sheer top and stepped out of the room.
"Hi." I said.
He was a man in his 30's, muscular, and tall guy. Decent looking.
"Hi. I was supposed to check and give the estimate of the painting job." He said politely quickly checking out my legs in the shorts.
"Yea, I know. Granddad had told me. Wait. Let me call him."
I went inside.
Tried calling my granddad. He was in deep sleep, snoring. I didn't feel like waking the old man up. I was wondering what to do. Then it suddenly stuck me.
I can note down whatever he says, and can explain them to grandpa. I have cash, I can give that also to him, and if there's any confusion, they can figure out by themselves. Anyway granddad kind of wanted me to take care of this job. So why not.
Great. I went inside my room, I saw my wet panty lying on the bed. Oh shit! I'm panty-less. Will he notice? I hope not. took the notepad and a pen, and walked outside.
"Hi. He is fast asleep. I tried calling him a couple of times. No response. So I guess you can tell me whatever it is, I can inform him. What say?"
"Fair enough. As long as the work gets done." He said. "Let's start from the outside then." He said and he started walking to one side of the house.
He was taking the measurements of the wall, calculating and telling me the amount of paint needed, and I was writing down.
Simultaneously, he would check the roof, and check the conditions of the wooden tress, and tiles. Then he would tell me the amount of wood needed for each side of the roof and the number of tiles that are broken.
We were progressing very well. It was some 15 minutes into the job, and I was slightly getting distracted.
Couple of Things:
