Wedding plans didn’t go into full swing immediately. Carolyn and Kumar planned the event for late June, to make sure that the girls had finished their freshman year of college and could be on hand to participate in all the activities—the dinner for the family members the day before the ceremony, the rehearsal of the wedding itself, and all manner of other things. April flung herself fully into the happy tumult; and, after initial reservations, Melody did so as well.
Kumar’s parents, flying in from Illinois, didn’t have any suspicions about the roles that the two young women played in the household, figuring that April’s presence—as Kumar’s future stepdaughter—was only natural, and that of her best friend just as understandable. If they had any reservations about their son’s bride being seven years older than himself, they kept them to themselves. And, to the relief of both bride and groom, the Mehrotras got along splendidly with Carolyn’s parents, who came up from their home outside of Olympia.
The ceremony itself was charmingly conventional, and the girls in particular insisted that the newlyweds go on a formal honeymoon, even if it meant being separated from the man of the house for more than a week. Carolyn determined that they would go to Hawaii, which she had visited several times but which Kumar had never seen. They headed out almost immediately after the wedding was over, stopping at the house only to change into normal clothes.
Kumar seemed unusually excited, seemingly unable to keep his eyes off the woman he could now call his wife. Carolyn, for her part, put on a great show of taking things in stride, this being her second marriage; but secretly she was thrilled that she once more had a husband. In spite of their unconventional household, that still meant something to her.
Hawaii was wonderful, and the couple frankly indulged in all manner of corny tourist activities in a spirit of campy fun—going up to the top of Mauna Kea on the big island, lounging on the beach at Waikiki, doing some snorkeling off the shore of Oahu, and so on and so forth.
And, of course, they renewed their intimacy over and over again—and in a manner that seemed definitely different now that each of them was wearing a ring on his or her finger. The idea of lapsing into the stolidity of boring married life was anathema to them, and they made sure to bring passion and intensity to each of their lovemaking sessions.
One morning, after an evening of multiple climaxes for both of them, Carolyn crawled out of bed, put on a robe over her naked body, and drifted over to the tiny balcony of the hotel room they were in. It was, as always, a bright and sunny day, and the scent of exotic vegetation filtered even up to their second-story room. Carolyn was so wrapped up in the satisfaction of being happily married that she didn’t immediately notice Kumar sidling up behind her, also dressed only in a robe.
“Oh!” she cried as he encircled her waist in his arms. “I didn’t hear you get up.”
“I can be stealthy as a cat,” he purred, kissing and even licking her neck.
She gloried in his attentions—until his hands slowly slid up and seized her breasts over the thin fabric of the robe.
“Um, Kumar,” she noted evenly, “we are in public, you know.” There was in fact quite a hubbub down below. The balcony looked down upon the front of the hotel, where there was always a bustle of activity as people were arriving, leaving, or making plans with private vehicles for trips to various choice spots.
“Nobody cares,” Kumar whispered as he continued to mold Carolyn’s breasts in his hands while nuzzling the back of her neck.
She escort was willing to tolerate this degree of public groping—but when Kumar, while holding onto both breasts with one hand, took the other hand away and pulled up her robe from behind, Carolyn said:
“Kumar, what do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?” he said blandly.
What does it feel like? would have been a more pertinent query, for before she knew it Kumar had parted his own robe and inserted his member into her anus.
She gasped at the sensation, but also at the prospect of being a public spectacle.
“Kumar, for God’s sake! People are watching!” In her confusion she wasn’t absolutely certain this was the case, but a few heads were looking up at the cuddling couple.
“They can’t see what we’re doing.”
“I think they have a pretty good idea!”
But Kumar was relentless. He had now returned both hands to her breasts, and in fact was making some effort to sneak his hands between the lapels of her robe in order to grab her naked bosom. Carolyn had to draw the line at that, pulling the front of her robe tightly around herself and actually slapping his hand away, crying, “Kumar, no!”
But that didn’t stop him from pounding her posterior. He had already done that several times last night, so she was “open” and not experiencing any great pain. But the mortification of having sex in public—people were now definitely noticing what they were doing, some of them standing stock-still and gawking up at them—stunned her into a kind of immobility. God, I just hope he finishes soon!
As a matter of fact, he did. The excitement of the whole scenario had stimulated him, and he shot his load into her after only five or six minutes. As he grunted in her ear, she did her best to look as if nothing unusual had happened.
But, as he pulled out of her, she couldn’t help noticing a young woman in the balcony next to theirs, only about ten feet away, gazing fixedly at them. Carolyn observed absently that she was quite pretty—and she was also apparently wearing only a robe. That robe had parted a bit, as one hand had reached through the folds to rest between her legs.
Carolyn pushed Kumar back into the room and stumbled back in herself. Giving him her best schoolmarm look, she said severely, “That was very naughty!”
But the absurdity of the remark caused her to burst out into a musical laugh that caused Kumar also to let out a guffaw.
“You really are incorrigible, you know,” she said, snatching up some Kleenex from an end table and giving her bottom several good wipes.
“I know,” he said, suitably chastened. But he knew she was secretly pleased at how ardently he had responded to the inexhaustible appeal of her body.
There was another time when they found themselves going off into a tropical rainforest on Oahu. They were hoping for some seclusion, but a fair number of other people were on the trail, and several of them were noisy teenagers making a ruckus that was spoiling the fun for everyone. Carolyn and Kumar decided to go off the path and into the depths of the forest, even though neither of them could exactly be called an experienced hiker. But their meandering course took them to an unexpected clearing where peace suddenly seemed to descend upon them. With the only sounds being the occasional cries of exotic birds and the flitting of insects, they felt they had come upon the sanctuary they were looking for.
They plopped themselves down on the soft grass, brought out some refreshments, and had an impromptu lunch. Every moment seemed magical, and the food and drink they were taking in was escort istanbul like the nectar and ambrosia of the gods.
“This is like the Garden of Eden,” Kumar breathed.
“And you’re my Adam,” Carolyn said with deep emotion.
“And you’re my Eve,” Kumar replied.
Carolyn was lying at full length on her back, using their little knapsack as a pillow. Kumar was gazing down at her, propped on one elbow. The love that was radiating from his eyes was filling Carolyn with an overwhelming sense of her own desirability.
With her customary smirk she said, “You’re not going to have your way with me right here, are you?”
“You’re awfully tempting,” he said without taking his eyes off of her.
She gave him a look of smiling defiance, as if saying: Well, go ahead—I dare you!
But instead he said, “Can you do something for me?”
“What?”
It took Kumar some moments to say: “Will you play with yourself?”
That was, for some reason, just about the last thing she expected him to say. “Will you suck my cock?” Yes. “Will you ride me?” Possibly. But to ask a woman to play with herself while her husband watches? That was pretty kinky, wasn’t it?
Carolyn’s stunned silence led him to say, “You like playing with yourself, don’t you?”
“Well, sure,” she said. “But I haven’t done it much, now that you’re in my life.”
“I’d just like to see how you do it.”
“Oh, this is some sort of scientific investigation, is it?”
“No, not really. I’d just like to watch you.”
She stared keenly at him for what seemed like a full minute. Then she let out a sigh and said, “Okay, you’re the boss.”
Giving the general area a quick look to make sure no one was around, Carolyn shoved her tight shorts down to her knees, taking her panties with them. As Kumar fixed on her groin, she tentatively brought her hand down between her legs. She was already more than a little wet, but at first she didn’t actually do anything, merely placing her hand over her sex as if shielding them from his gaze.
“Is that how you do it?” he asked, puzzled.
“No, of course not,” she snapped.
And then she started fingering her labia, peeling them apart with two fingers and hesitantly inserting another two fingers into her vagina. She gasped at the sensation, but the blush that came over her face was much more the product of his intense gaze than the physical sensation she was feeling.
Her breathing began to get irregular as she stroked the inside of her labia up and down, up and down. And then at last she extended her thumb to her clitoris. The first contact with that sensitive spot caused her to let out a high-pitched squeal, which she immediately suppressed by clapping her other hand over her mouth.
But she then took that hand away from her mouth and let it drift down to her breasts, which she squeezed over the cotton shirt she was wearing. Her fingers were stroking her sex more vigorously now, getting thoroughly slick with her own juices.
All this time, her eyes were locked on his.
Little mewing cries, interspersed with gasps and moans, were emerging from her throat. Sometimes her lips were squeezed tight, at other times her mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath. Her tongue protruded at one point, but then Carolyn seemed to realize how shameless that made her look and stuck it back into her mouth.
Her body was now starting to shake; and, as her eyes still clung to his, that telltale shudder that she knew signaled the beginning of her climax began to overtake her. She was now sticking several fingers deep inside herself while stroking her beykoz escort clitoris in a circular motion and squeezing her breasts hard with her other hand. She now leaned her head back and let out a loud and unrestrained cry as her orgasm washed over her—but she couldn’t pull her hand away from her sex, as she had learned from long experience that she could prolong her sensations almost indefinitely by continuing to stroke herself gently.
Her feelings were so intense that two big tears crept out of her eyes and fell down her face.
Kumar took all this in with a kind of pious reverence, as if witnessing some holy ritual that only the initiates of a secret cult were allowed to look upon. His eyes were also filled with tears, although none fell.
As she struggled to control her gasps, he said gently, “You’re so beautiful when you—” He stopped short.
“When I come?” she finished for him.
“You’re always beautiful,” he said, “but especially when you come.”
“You’re such a flatterer,” she said.
As she lay there, emotionally and physically exhausted, Kumar said: “Um, Carolyn, you’d best put your clothes back on.”
“What? What?” she cried in agitation.
“There are some people a little ways away. I think they see us.”
“Oh, good Lord!” she said as she tugged her panties and shorts back over herself to cover her nudity.
“Was this naughty?” he said, anticipating her.
“Yes, it was,” she said, trying but failing to be serious.
“But it was so lovely,” he pleaded.
“Was it?”
“Yes. Would you do it again for me sometime?”
“Maybe—but not in public, my good man.”
In fact, the experience had been so overwhelming—erotic, yes, but also satisfying in far more than a physical sense, as if she were a queen who had bestowed some priceless gift upon a serf who had done her a small favor—that she yearned to do it again whenever he liked. I won’t mind in the least if we worked this into our lovemaking.
*
When the happy couple came back, they were greeted with open arms by April and Melody. Carolyn graciously allowed each of the girls their customary access to Kumar’s body, and he could tell that both of them had missed him—and Carolyn too—more than they were prepared to admit.
But as the girls prepared for their sophomore year, they seemed to have simultaneously come to a portentous decision:
They would move into a rooming house together.
April felt that the time had arrived for her to strike out on her own, away from her stepmother. Of course, she would be living fairly close to Carolyn and Kumar and could come over to the house almost anytime she wanted; but there was still some significance in this first step toward independence. And Melody had become heartily tired of dorm life, yearning to have a bit more privacy than could be managed with a roommate right in the same room with her. In the rooming house they picked out, each of them would have a big room to themselves, along with the common area, including a fairly well-stocked kitchen.
They moved out in early August, a few weeks before the fall quarter was to begin. They seemed happy at first, having fun cooking meals together and pretending to be serious working girls. Of course, there were others in the rooming house also, and they seemed nice enough.
But both April and Melody, with a vestigial sense of conventional morality, spent fewer and fewer nights with Kumar. They protested that it was only because schoolwork was pretty heavy and they needed time to study; but both felt that the marriage bond that now fused Kumar and Carolyn into a spiritual unity was not to be broken lightly, even if Carolyn professed to make no bones about who occupied Kumar’s bed on any given night. Nothing was said openly, but both young women seemed to feel that it was perhaps time to find a man of their own.
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