The Saree

The saree.

Shanti was bored. She'd been at her desk all day working on bureaucratic inanities. This isn't what I signed up for..she groaned to herself. She got up from her chair and stretched her supple body like a cat. She was tallish and beautifully constructed. Long lean legs that rose up to meet the perfect waist.. The full breasts complemented enhanced the slimness of her torso, but were way too perky for someone who wanted their work to be taken seriously. She sighed. If only I could quit this fucking job and get a rich old husband. I've had it, she giggled.. I'll just give in to the next MCP who's persistent enough. Her taste in boys of late, was in the starving artist variety, soothing to her intellect and soul but did nothing by way of making ends meet.

The phone rang to interrupt her thoughts.. speaking of MCP''s she grinned, it was her boss. What does the old goat want from me now, she wondered. Look Shanti I need you to do something for us. Our biggest client is in town and you need to show him a good time. Why me she asked but she already knew.. Just do it, came the curt reply and the phone went silent.

She showered and wore a simple saree. Nothing fancy she told herself grimly. And specs. Just dinner some shop talk and an early night. The taxi dropped her off at one of the fancier hotels in town. As she got off she couldn't help a frisson of excited pleasure at the sheer wealth and power that the place exuded. She was ushered into the lobby and at once she knew she was being sneered at for her saree by the overdressed women there. The men on the other hand. she knew precisely what they were thinking.

Her body was designed for a saree, her gorgeous figure eyed by every rich businessman there. Her curves turned the heads of the bellboys and guests alike and her impish grin reflected her funny mood. It's just eye candy boys and she wantonly adjusted her pallu in front of one of the gigantic mirrors, giving the patrons a view of her surging breasts. the cold night and her racing thoughts meant that her nipples were at full attention. Fuckit. She sat primly in the lobby and waited.

Mr khanna was late as Big People are supposed to be. She pretended to read a magazine for a bit and then she said screw this I'll go get him from his suite. She knocked at the door only to find it ajar.

Mr Khanna? No answer. She crept in softly, half dying in curiosity, half scandalized by what she was doing. She could hear the sounds of the shower. Before she knew it she sat down on the bed trembling. The bathroom door opened and a man emerged from a cloud of steam.

Her mouth opened as she saw him. He was an absolute beast of a man. Tall, tanned and muscular. But not the sort of muscles you get in a gym. The sort you get from growing up brawling in the streets. Broad chest and a mat of hair that tapered down to his groin she quickly looked up and met his eyes. I I,m sorry she stammered..I was waiting in the lobby and I er. 'oh please don't be sorry, mea culpa' he said in an upper-class drawl that was at odds with his roughneck physique. His utter lack of awkwardness in the situation was charming and she relaxed. Wine? Yes please. She watched him pour still dripping wet from the shower with only a towel around him. She also noticed a substantial bulge in the the towel. Leave now her mind screamed but her body wouldn't budge. Their fingers met as he handed her her glass. He looked down her saree boldly and said I'm sure there was a riot in the lobby. She was wetter now than she had been in weeks, she wanted this charming brute of a man to have her. She let her pallu drop like a shameless courtesan, he responded like a shameless prince.

He pressed her roughly down on the bed even though she wasn't resisting. She groaned as his hand went under her blouse while she's pressed back eagerly against his bulging manhood. She closed her eyes and felt his cock press against her. She turned around and buried herself against his chest. She wanted to hide herself in him. He turned her over, pulled down the saree to her knees and entered her roughly from behind, her legs still locked together. His first thrust destroyed her world. She knew nothing else existed anymore. Every subsequent one she met greedily wantonly. She wanted to be had. To be enslaved. To be everything and nothing. He tweaked her nipples as he thrust into her and she groaned. Her back arched and she neared climax. He came in hot streams inside her. She came hard in response. She wanted every drop of him inside her. And when he pulled out spent, like a horse that has just run a derby, she felt strangely energized. She wiggled her bottom at him as she pulled up her saree and said cheekily.. is that all you've got for me Mr khanna?