They were having food. Solid food, made by Shama. She sat on his right thigh, holding the dinner plate, and fed both of them. His left hand was all over her topless body.
M: I think you knew long back that I wanted to have these two babies.
S: I think I wouldn't have resisted if you would have tried to get to them earlier.
M: I think you know that these two babies are going to be pampered a lot.
S: I think you know that the only time you can do that is when my husband is not around.
M: I think I can find a way to get him out of the way.
S: I think I will like that.
M: I think we should start the prayer meeting. My goddess will not appreciate it if I don't satisfy her.
S: I think you are right.
The clock chimed. Nine pm. Shama rose from Mansoor's lap and took the plate to the kitchen. Mansoor cleared the table and put the serving dishes in the fridge, while Shama washed the utensils. He entered the guest room, took off his clothes and put them on a hanger in the wardrobe, and returned to the kitchen door naked, just as Shama was swabbing the kitchen slab dry.
M: Each room has to be blessed with prayer, for the goddess to be happy. We have already prayed in the dining room. Now let's pray here.
Shama was seeing her partner in full light for the first time. Like all girls, she had an image of her paramour, and she was elated to find the reality very close to her imagination. Broad shoulders, not very hirsute, tight abdomen, muscular thighs. But these were secondary to his pair of medium sized eyes that exuded confidence, sincerity and self confidence. As he approached, she loosened her sarong and let it drop. No panties. He lifted her onto the slab, and went for the source of that sweet intoxicating scent. The salty nectar she produced was wasted on her husband, but here was a man who was not satisfied with the amount she had produced in the morning, and wanted more. She moaned, groaned, sighed and squeaked, as she leaned back on her elbows, and held her legs wide and in the air.
Mansoor was not in a hurry to penetrate her. He planned to make her addicted to him. He had to keep her lactating and wet, but by her own volition. She would be his possession only if she willingly accepted his domination. In the lighted kitchen, he could see the petals that hid the clitoris. He parted the pussylips and roughed up her cunt with his dry tongue. She had no place to manoeuvre, unlike the previous episode on the dining table. Here, she had to accept the onslaught in a confined space. And he was taking advantage of her inabilities. When the first high hit her, she gave out short squeaks every time he licked her sensitive clit. He continued with his cum drink, without respite, and the gap between the first and the second orgasm got blurry. She tried to get off the slab, but he wouldn't let her. It was only when her short squeaks became a single long moan, that he decided to stop. Her legs dropped deadweight, hanging over the slab, as she lay semiconscious. He got his phone and clicked a photo.
The goddess was satisfied with the sacrifice.
********************
Mansoor was sprawled on the couch in the living room. Shama was crouched on his right side, drained yet satisfied. The only light in the room-and the entire house- was coming from the TV. Mansoor had connected the TV to Shama's phone and was loading a movie he wanted her to see. He had seen this particular movie almost fifteen years back, but it was his favourite. Shama would lean over occasionally for a kiss, and he would have a go at her tongue, and she would go back to her crouch with a smile. She had done this thrice since they shifted the prayer from the kitchen to the living room.
The movie-titled TARZAN, THE SHAME OF JANE- started playing. Shama still believed that they were resting in the living room before the next round of prayer. As Mansoor got into a more upright position, she also straightened out. He pulled her left leg onto his right, and rested his hand on her pubes. She had a feeling that she looked quite similar to the actress depicting Jane onscreen. The face cut, the eyes, the nose. Her profile was not the same- Shama's breasts and hips were fuller.
Suddenly she sat up- this was a pornographic movie. She looked at him and found him smiling. She turned back to the screen. The labourer was offering his penis to the blonde. She had never seen such explicit material in motion. As the blonde sucked the labourer on screen, a finger squelched into the cavity on the couch. Shama reclined on the couch as the blonde rode the labourer on screen, and two fingers started to stimulate her sensitivity. Her left hand reached for the erection, as she saw the labourer on the screen take the blonde from behind.
By the time the labourer climaxed on screen, Shama was aroused. She mounted Mansoor and took him inside her. And the prayer in the living room commenced.
M: I knew there is a tigress in you. You are a true goddess. You just needed awakening.
S: My body has been on fire for two days now. Thinking of you, about what you said, made me so wet, I had to change my panties more than five times.
M: I will give you satisfaction if you surrender to me. Mind, body and soul.
S: Here I am, naked, sitting on your lap, riding your cock, watching dirty videos with you, giving you access to everything I have. What more do you want?
M: I will tell you when the time is right. Now don't spoil the fun. Turn around and see the interesting part.
Mansoor rotated Shama on his dick. She put her feet down and resumed the dick ride by taking support of her knees. The screen showed Jane going down on Tarzan. As the screen filled up with Jane's fellatio, Mansoor got up. By the time Jane had convinced Tarzan to lick her pussy, Mansoor had his dick inside Shama from behind, holding her wrists and pumping her slowly, so that they could see the screen without any major disturbance. But Shama was mad with lust. When she saw Jane recline on the tree trunk and guide Tarzan into her, she went wild. She started to hump backwards with such force that Mansoor had to let go of her wrists and grab her hips to counter her bucks.
S: Enough, you bastard. Fuck me! Fuck me like you are Tarzan and I am Jane. Fuck me for the shame of Jane. Come on.
Humans became animals. Mansoor started banging with abandon, and suddenly sounds filled the room- rhythmic sounds. Of flesh striking flesh. Of male grunts. Of female 'yeah's. Shama twisted herself to look behind at her fucker. She grabbed his neck with her right hand. He leaned forward to kiss her. She moaned into his mouth as she had her fourth orgasm of the evening. Her energy burst was spent. She slipped off his dick and slumped to the ground.
The goddess was satisfied with this sacrifice as well.
Mansoor shut down the TV, and went to the toilet linked to the guest room to urinate, leaving Shama where she lay. Leaving the lights of the guest room on, he came back to the living room, picked up Shama and carried her to the guest room. He laid her on the bed, got his phone and clicked her photo. Then he switched off the lights and joined her on the bed. Four down, four to go. He spooned against her and slept, content.
The clock chimed. Ten pm.
