Note: I took the first letter for granted, assuming it to be authored by someone with a peculiar interest. But when I received no less than three other similar letters indicating the same subject, I thought about it.
The following work of fiction is loosely based on what the authors of these four letters want; in short, a combination of “coming straight to the act as I had in the first chapter of the Saga of A Family” (thanks Zingy), relationship based on incest (thanks latha), plenty of breast oriented action (thanks park_geoff, and mimime, though I have received letters accusing me of being too much into it; and incidentally, the photos were very stimulating and I hope you and your girl will enjoy those I am sending to you shortly) and “more erotic action than a lot of background” (thanks Lee). Finally, thanks a lot Wannabee2 for recommending the book; I have drawn a few inspirations as you can see!
They made their way through the dark basement, he, holding a lighted candle above their heads, following Preeti as she led the way.
“Though your sister is beautiful, and the two of you look like you are almost twins, I find you to be doubly attractive,” Nitin murmured in a low voice.
“Really?” she laughed flirtatiously. “How so?”
“Her most attractive charms are less easily accessible when she is lying on her back,” he answered boldly.
“And what makes you think that mine would be?”
“That’s the whole reason of this dialogue. I wouldn’t have dared speak such words with any other woman. Your presence is so magnetic, I would frankly not give a damn even if you did slap me now.”
She felt warm and wet and flustered, both at the words he spoke and the circumstances they were in. Also arousing her further was the fact that both knew that the entire of the rest of the family was up stairs.
She had played along with him for too long and she knew it was pay back time.
As if on cue, he circled her with one arm from behind, pressing the front of his body against her back. Despite the agility with which he did this, she was astonished that he could still manage to balance the lighted candle over his head.
“I think that this action of yours might get noticed, particularly maybe by my sister who may just get suspicious to such a long absence of her husband, so I think we should stop at this,” she reminded him.
“I don’t think so. For one thing, we are quite alone here in this basement. For another, everybody upstairs is quite, quite tipsy by now. And finally, I cannot really believe that my attentions are wholly unwanted.”
She bit her lip when he pressed into her, clearly wanting her to feel his bulge, now so prominent between his legs.
“Supposing they are?” she questioned, her resolve already wilting. Damn, but he was attractive and she had always wondered about how it would feel to have him instead of having her own husband, albeit, temporarily.
“Are they?” his voice was almost mocking, and she paused, even leaning slightly back against him as he gently set the candle down on a shelf above their heads. From this position, the candle illuminated the whole part of this side of the basement, though not so brightly.
She felt his strong hands slide up her waist to cup her firm breasts from behind and she suppressed a gasp when his warm lips traced the naked flesh of her neck.
“Your dress is very becoming of you, but at times such as these, very impractical,” he said in a low and husky voice.
She was indeed flattered by the complement for she had chosen this particular dress with designs on a similar line of activity, though not with him. It was glowing beige satin with a particularly daring low neckline designed to show off almost half of the top of her round and firm breasts. It plastered her narrow waist like second skin and flared at the hips ever so slightly so as to leave little imagination to the mobility of her enticing buttocks and her long legs. She was aware when she had chosen to wear the dress that it was fashioned to inflame and enhance the viewer’s imagination (as she desperately wanted to entice Sunny this evening). In fact she had even noticed her father-in-law and her own father glance appreciatively at the right places a number of times through the evening.
It was haute couture; there was no doubt about it. The fashion dictated a same-length silk slip under the gathered skirt. Beneath, she was wearing a sort of an old fashioned, but equally daring and flimsy bodice: held together at the shoulders by a pair of incredibly thin straps tied up with lacy little ribbons. The base was tight elastic that had an effect of pushing up and bunching together her rounded breasts.
As Nitin had rightly remarked, the style was impractical for such erotic liaisons. There were just too many layers of clothing involved in the style. But, knowing how this fact fired the imagination of her husband Shashi (he loved to peel away those layers one by one and very, very slowly) she had always gone in for such designs. She guessed that Shashi never really wanted reality; he was more into the fantasy stuff and she always thought that’s what women’s clothes were all about.
“What makes you think that it matters anyway?” she asked, barely breathing now.
“The fact that the pleasure is going to be mutual,” he replied brusquely. His hands swiftly lifted her skirt with both hands at the back, exposing the slip. “My God!” he exclaimed, peering at the garment within the garment. “So many impediments!”
“I think it is a forewarning,” she whispered.
“Nonsense,” he quipped, his hands expertly moving over her body, lifting the slip and pulling down her sheer panties.
She was taken aback by surprise at his quickness and then she suddenly felt the unmistakable hardness of his cock inside his trousers pressing against the cleft of her naked buttocks. She felt overwhelmed by the sudden combination of lust and desire, weakening her resolve, if she had any in the first place.
Her reaction did not go unnoticed. His hands very easily pulled down the top of her skirt over her midriff. He opened the ribbons of her bodice to free her naked breasts. At the same time, his thighs and his flat belly and his throbbing cock were exploring the terrain of her bottom.
She put up some semblance of a struggle. “Don’t” her voice was low, but sharp. “Someone may come down anytime.”
Ignoring her, he turned her around and lowered his mouth over hers. She had opened her mouth to protest; instead, she now felt his tongue thrusting inside her. Just as demanding, his cock slid up and down against her belly.
She did not know how, but he contrived to push down the top and pull up the bottom of her dress to bare her breasts and all that beneath her waist. She tried to struggle; she admitted that she had been waiting for this moment, but certainly not with such suddenness.
She felt her legs go weak and smothered a moan when she felt his hand cupping her crotch. She pulled away from his kiss and was startled that in the midst of doing all this, he had his trousers and shorts down over his knees, exposing his very rigid, naked tumescent cock.
He carried her hand to it and set it in motion: rubbing it up and down the shaft. She felt it throbbing and expand in her fist and she squeezed and tugged at it.
“No one is going to come down anytime,” he said hoarsely, licking her ear and then trailing the tip of his tongue down over her cheek. He continued cupping and squeezing her naked and moist pussy with one hand and took one breast in his other.
“My god, Preeti! You have such beautiful breasts! These are bigger than your sister’s. And far firmer!”
She moaned when he bent down and took the nipple in his mouth. At the same time, he drew back his hand from her pussy and started to rub a finger over her wet slit.
