I was dictating the final draft of my quotation to Meghana at the office when the three guys who worked for me walked into the office.
"Sir," said Ajay, a longhaired boy, in his mid-twenties who'd graduated from the Fine School of Architecture last year.
I frowned at him. It was a well-known fact that I did not like to be disturbed when I was dictating quotations.
"I hope you have a good reason to disturb me at this point of time, Ajay."
"Oh, but he has!" interrupted Uday, a sly smile on his face. He was a year senior to Ajay and was one hell of a marketing guy, which is why I had hired him. Short and stocky, one would never realize what a dynamo Uday was until one listened to his arguments.
Ravi, the third guy who was responsible for the coordination between purchase and sales during construction spilled the beans.
"It's your wedding anniversary today, sir," he broke in.
I slapped a palm against my forehead. I had totally forgotten and suddenly realized why Anita hadn't come to the office today.
Meghana was the first to wish me.
"Happy anniversary, Ashish. And do wish Anita on my behalf."
I grabbed my jacket, rising from my chair, the quotation forgotten.
"Thanks, Arum, I reckon you people deserve a break. And what better than to have a day at the office without me around here."
Arum was an acronym for my staff – Ajay, Ravi, Uday and Meghana. It was Anita who had coined the word and they loved her for it.
The idea hit me when I was driving home.
I decided to present, what I considered to be my masterpiece, to Anita tonight on our wedding anniversary. I was sure it would make a perfect gift!
Since I was aware whom I had in mind when I had made the painting, it looked too familiar and I had almost thought about changing it. But, eventually, I resisted the temptation as it looked almost lifelike and, if I were right, she would be more interested in that piece sticking out between the sprawled out legs than the rest of the picture of the man reclining on the chair.
After the formalities that consisted of my mom performing a small ritual for her son and her daughter-in-law (basically, seating us on a couch and twirling a silver tray upon which were lighted candles) we decided to celebrate in the nearby hotel.
If she had had her way, she would have taken me straight to the bedroom and to bed. But it was only six in the evening, so I guess she had to kill time so that she wouldn't be too obvious.
We uncorked a bottle of champagne and the hotel staff congregated to wish us a happy anniversary.
"It will be one after we hit the sack and you fuck the daylights out of me," she whispered under her breath as we settled down in a dimly lit corner of the hotel.
She was looking gorgeous in a bright red sari with golden borders and a matching blouse, buttoned in front. As usual, the border was firmly tucked around her breasts and fastened to the blouse with a pin.
We went through a lot of sexual innuendo throughout the dinner. I was on a sexual high with the knowledge that I would finally be presenting her with the painting and I conjured up images of her squatting on the fake prick with mine in her mouth.
She was equally bad. When she picked up a finely sliced piece of cucumber from the salad, she said, "Now, I basically prefer a cucumber that is not sliced. I like to hold it in my hands and eat it."
"I'm luckier," I grinned, flicking my tongue over a fairly large piece of mushroom. Under the table, her toes dug into my groin.
Without her knowledge, I managed to gulp down a couple of Viagras and a couple of some herbal capsules I had bought from a local quack. I thought I was beginning to feel the effects (or maybe they were psychological, I don't know), but I could feel my prick stiffening up even more than I thought that it normally did.
So, when we were driving back at about ten in the night, we were both pretty charged up.
"Now, for some action. Remember this very day what seems to be just a few years ago when you popped my cherry?" she sidled toward me and licked my ear.
"How can I forget?" I was aware that I was sporting a bulge; in fact, I had been sporting one for quite some time now. "This time around, I have a surprise for you."
"Wow! You never gave me an idea of that," she squealed, squeezing the bulge in my trousers. "What is it?"
"That would not mean it is a surprise if I tell you now, would it?" I asked, kissing her cheek, keeping my eyes on the road. "But I'm sure you are going to like it. I promise you that. Now, just let me drive, okay? We want to go home soon, huh?"
She allowed me to drive without interruption. The champagne had given the two of us a faint, nice buzz, and she sat back on the seat, her eyes closed, perhaps, dreaming about her 'gift'.
My parents had taken in our daughter (bless them!) and we used our keys to let ourselves in and crept up the stairs to our bedroom.
As soon as I had closed the door and locked it behind me, she flung herself against me, plastering me against the wall, her mouth on mine. She pressed her body against me as our tongues dueled together.
I managed to flick on the dim night lamp as we kissed and groaned when I felt her hands fumbling with the zipper of my pants. I groped up to reach for the pin and swiftly undid it, pulling the border off her shoulders. I gasped for two reasons: one, the front of her blouse plunged down dangerously to reveal almost half of her tits and two; she had pulled my prick outside and was tugging on it.
She moaned softly as I unbuttoned the row of buttons at the front of her blouse, pushed it back over her shoulders and pulled down the tiny straps of her flimsy half-bra. Her breasts sprang free from within the confines and immediately, I took possession of them, beginning to knead them.
We remained locked up in that position for a while, me backed up against the wall, cupping her ample bosom protruding from the half open blouse and bra, and she, fondling my erect prick, caressing the shaft in gentle up and down movements. All this while, our mouths remained fused together.
We were both out of breath when she finally pulled back from my mouth. Her eyes, half closed and full of lust (I guess mine too were), she said, "The present, darling. Please, please, let me see it. Though this," she tugged at my prick, "is more than enough."
I let go of her melons and forced her hands away from my turgid prick. I switched on another light; this too was dim, but with two of them glowing in the room, there was enough light for me to unfurl my present and for her to see.
I walked to the corner of the room where I had placed the portrait, covered up by a thick cotton bed sheet. I had decided that this was the best place, because directly opposite to it and by the side of it were two large mirrors.
Dramatically, I flung the bed sheet away and stepped aside so that she could see it.
She gasped. In the dim light, I could see her mouth gaping and her eyes were wide open. As I had guessed, her eyes were drawn to the fake prick. Ah well! After all, she wasn't an artist to appreciate the finer aspects of a portrait.
"Oh my god, Ashish!" she said in a kind of a stunned voice. "That's…that's so beautiful!"
I felt ridiculously proud of my creation and watched with bated breath as she made her way slowly across the room, shrugging out of the blouse and the bra. She stopped when she was hardly a foot away from it.
She had to bend slightly, which she did. Tentatively, she reached out with one hand and gently wrapped her fist around the dildo.
So there! I had guessed right. She wanted another prick to participate and that sight aroused me further. I was painfully aware of my erection now, standing out of my trousers, as I stared at her sliding her hand up and down over the length of the dildo, her huge breasts dangling down.
"It looks so real!" she whispered, her eyes riveted on the dildo.
I walked up to her, pulling down my pants and my underwear along with it till I was naked, except for my silk shirt. I stood behind her and leaned against the back of her bent body, reaching down to hold her swinging breasts in my hands. I pressed my erect prick against the crack of her buttocks, so enticingly visible under the sari.
"This is real, baby," I told her moving my prick up and down against her buttocks.
Still staring at the dildo, she said, "Undress me, Ash. Get me naked. Now! Please, quick!"
I peeled away the layers of the sari and then the petticoat under it, sliding them down over her thighs. She was still bent over when I pulled down her panties too.
I glanced at her and realized that she was still fondling and caressing the dildo. She raised one leg and then the other to allow me to strip off the garments. She was now stark naked. I pulled out my shirt and then, rising, pressed the front of my body against her back.
My naked prick rubbed her buttocks and I slid my hands around her waist to cup her breasts.
"Oh God, Ash, put your cock in me. Now, please, don't make me wait," she breathed.
"I will," I replied, kneading her mounds, pinching her erect nipples, "only if you suck that dick."
She didn't hesitate. She had to take a step backwards so that she could bend down to get her mouth around the dildo. I craned my head to watch her tongue sneaking out of her mouth and lick the fake prick.
Almost instantaneously, my prick rose even further. My heart began to beat like a trip hammer and I realized that I was now getting just as aroused as I used to during the period immediately after our marriage.
As I pressed my prick between her legs, she reached behind her and grabbed it in her hot hand. I watched her open her mouth and dip down to take the dildo in even as she guided my prick into the wet folds of her hot pussy.
