“Please, Roy, please, not in my ass. I am a virgin in my ass,” said Diya. I position myself behind her ass while she rides her husband.
“Bro, go for it, man. Let me hold her tight in my arms. Just push your damn dick up her ass. She’s ours tonight,” prompted AK, Diya’s husband.
His words were enough for me to give her asshole a good wet lick. I slowly enter her inch by inch. The next 60 seconds were the highlight of this whole chapter.
Introduction:
Diya Dutta is my ex-colleague from my previous firm. She and her husband Akash are settled in London after moving here 6 years back.
Diya, 34, has always been a charming lady. A sex goddess much before she married one of the kinkiest people, Akash. Proud of her long hair, big black eyes, round face and a body to die for.
She is a mother of a lovely 4-year-old toddler. She has taken utmost care of herself through regular workouts and daily commutes. (London is all about walking.) Still desired by many boys to oldies alike.
She stands 5’ 6” with a heavy bust, maybe 36c, a big brown areola. A curvy waistline of 28”, finishing up with a bubble butt of 36” (an ass to die for) supported by thunderous thighs.
Her tits and ass have always been her USP when we were colleagues. But I think, post her marriage, baby. The city of dreams has transformed her into one of the most desirable beings.
Akash, or AK as we call him, is 37 and compliments Diya when they stand together. He has a very successful career in one of the biggest hedge funds in the UK. He is a trader himself.
Someone who routinely spends time in the gym to stay on par with their European counterparts. A badass in bed with a 7-inch tool and the kinkiest between them both.
Landed in Heathrow mid-August last year for work. The city was lively and full of fun. Probably that’s why they call it a city of dreams. 2 months passed, and it was time for me to start finding my place. The tenancy in firm firm-sponsored duplex apartment in the central was ending.
Finally, after searching for two days, I found my abode in Stratford next to Westfield on a high-rise 25th floor.
Months passed in a jiffy, attending partner meetings, subordinate catch-ups, and drinking with colleagues in next-door tap (Breweries in London). I had my share of fun during this period, which will be covered in other parts.
Diya and I met at one of the market leader’s post-conference social gatherings organized for potential clients. It was already 9 p.m. when we wrapped our business and headed to the socialite lobby. The drinks and light snacks were being served.
As usual, Diya looked ravishing in her one-piece party wear with matching accessories. I couldn’t believe my luck. I first noticed her as we had not been in touch since she quit our firm 7 years back. I couldn’t help but approach her, holding my favourite single malt.
For a split second, she could remember my name for obvious reasons. She wasn’t expecting to see me there. However, once she revived from her thoughts, she could not help but stretch her arms to hug me. We were really happy to find each other after ages.
I must say, I didn’t expect her to be there in the first place, let alone find her so full of sensuality. The choice of her dress and the physic she has maintained took my breath away for a second. Our past encounters seem to have recapitulated right before my eyes.
Honestly, I felt like reliving our secret orgy encounter right that moment, making her my slut. Recovering from my thoughts, AK approached us, introducing himself. He was smart, well-dressed, fit, and an absolute trader material.
But something was different in his persona, a vibe you feel when you meet someone for the first time. Trust me, something about him was dark. After sharing a few drinks, we headed to the lobby where other delegates were. Their spouses were enjoying themselves in the soothing music they were playing.
By the end of 2 hours, I had already finished my 6th, AK may be his 8th and Diya on her 5th. We followed it through a couple of back-to-back shots. The lobby was dimly lit, and we started shaking our legs, enjoying the moment.
There were times when I held Diya by the waist, moving to the tune of music. In some instances, me and AK were holding her waist together. The party was great, the music was amazing. The environment was all electric due to the excitement on the dance floor between us.
At 12:30 a.m., we called it a night, bid farewells to our colleagues and waited at the parking for my Uber. AK stopped his car and offered to continue the party at their place. Diya, by then, was kind of drunk and horny. While entering the co-passenger front seat, I noticed her blue lace G string between the handrest.
Evident, AK and Diya made out in the car, either before the party or after. Anyway, the thought of it was already getting me a boner. Once we reached their county, AK pulled into a terraced house, a duplex. A very well-decorated one.
As we were all drunk, horny and wasted, Diya held my waist and leaned on AK’s shoulder. Somehow, we managed to get inside, giggling and singing. Once in the hall, me and AK settled in. Diya went upstairs, most probably to get comfortable.
I offered AK a smoke, and we decided to finish quickly. It was dammed cold. But we caught some stories and discussed some of the latest market insights and women.
Hesitantly, he asked me how close were me and Diya 7 years back. I reluctantly replied, “Good colleagues and just friends.” I was drunk, but I am a dog and will never let any of my secrets out when it comes to disclosures.
We decided to go inside. He offered me his bar and requested me to feel at home and pour some drinks till he figured out the state of Diya. I kept myself occupied going through his collection of single malts.
I suddenly felt a sudden urge to relieve my bladder and went up. The restroom was already occupied, and I could hear Diya from inside.
“AK, I am your bitch. I have been your slut wife my whole life since we were together,” said Diya. She continued, “I want to fuck Roy tonight, don’t say no to me, please. I had been your sex slave all these years, which I enjoyed. You made me lick your cum from your friend Roshni’s pussy. Ravaged my throat deep with your dick in front of your escort randis you bring every Saturday. But for tonight, let me be Randi of my own.”
“You made me a bitch tonight by taking me to your corporate gathering without my panties. I am sure even Roy could feel my bare ass while holding my ass while we danced.”
“I could feel his hardness poking me when were intentionally pushing my ass over his crotch. I know you wanted to tear my dress showcasing my tits to delegates.”
“So please, I beg you, I want to feel his dick again, feel his hot cum in my mouth over my tongue.”
“I wont mind even if you parade me outside naked after getting messed up by him. I need him tonight. I am ready to pay any price or fulfil your wishes.”
Her voice was trembling and breaking. Probably because she was gagging, trying to convince his not so gentlemanly husband to be a slut.
AK, while moaning, responded, “Yes, you are my slut-wife, and tonight, you will be mine and Roy’s mistress. Don’t think you have any leverage over me. I own you, and you will be punished the way I want you to suffer.”
His groan was so loud that Diya couldn’t stop but moan with him while he dumped his cum down her throat. I was thinking, am I in reality, or is it some trance where I imagine all these things occurring? My not-so-prude ex-colleague and her wicked husband are not the contemporary kind.
They enjoy sex as much as they enjoy living. I was hard and felt like breaking into their privacy. But It was just 2 a.m., and the night seemed never-ending.
Myself Roy, a successful investment banker in one of the top 3 IB giants. I stand 5″7′, a little nerdy with glasses, trying to hit the gym. It’s not bulky but has scope to improve. My USP, as Diya says, is that I can make any female comfortable, get them to smile and rock their beds without much effort.
If anyone is in the UK, London, Stratford E20, you can call me for a Mocha or a Peroni! Please mail me your thoughts at .
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