Stranger at the Wedding Reception – Part 2

Hi, I am Madhan here. First, thanks a lot to all ISS readers for your many likes and valuable feedback on my story,

Genuine Couples looking for fun like Swap/Group/Orgy/Cuckold/Lesbian can approach me.

I am a Bengalurean of 28 years of age, 6″ tall. Horny unsatisfied housewives and sexy young baby dolls can reach me on my hangout/mail /cdn-cgi/l/email-protection” class=”__cf_email__” data-cfemail=”3e535f5a565f504d4d4a4c7e59535f5752105d5153″>[email protected] and Telegram @msarsstr. Total anonymity and secrecy are guaranteed.

I woke up to the nudge and calling of my husband, “Wake up, Sneha. Aren’t you going to the wedding?” I woke instantly in a snap, and the happy dream I was in shrivelled out of my memory. I get irritated.

Do I have to scold my husband Rakesh to snatch me away from my sweet dream or Thank him for waking me for the wedding? My eyes hovered towards the clock, which had already hit 07 in the morning.

My desires from yesterday night are still raw. I drag my husband, Rakesh, into the comforter. I wrap my hand around his waist and press my face into his chest. I shut my eyes, hugging him tight, feeling his warmth.

I want to lay in that position. Rakesh breaks the embrace, “Baby, you will be late. The wedding is at 09.” I purse my lips and roll my eyeballs upward, staring at him. I grab his cute face and brace a peck of a kiss on his lips.

I drag him over me, messily spiralling around on the bed. My dirty, unbrushed mouth opens his just brushed mint, fresh mouth. I kiss him wildly, exploring his lips/tongue and tasting him. My hands reach between his legs and grab his erect dick.

I utter with deep breaths, “Fuck me, Rakesh. Fuck me, Rakesh. I want you inside me.”

Rakesh, “Hey. What happened to you? Driving me crazy. You never were so horny and wet. Go get ready, or you will miss your best friend’s wedding.”

He walks away, leaving my flared pussy lips yearning. My thoughts drift to the tall stranger and his shrill stare at the reception. I open my eyes quickly. I shook my head, brushing off his thoughts, leaving the blanket to walk to the restroom.

I poured freezing water over my heat emanating body. My thoughts, ‘Do I wish the stranger to attend the wedding too? Do I hope he will eat me live with his deadly eyes?’ I scramble the almirah with a towel around my chest to catch onto the red transparent saree.

I notice Rakesh staring and scrolling his mobile on the bed. The awoken, horny I was still awake inside me. As I stared at him, I wanted Rakesh to chase me, catch me, and throw away the towel. Kiss me frantically and fuck me sludgy making me bathe again.

My husband caught me watching him as I stood wet feet. He points at the red saree in my hand, “Are you going to wear this? You bought a different dress for the wedding day.” This was my best apparel. I brush the thought of him fucking me, “Yes. I want to wear this.”

A sudden excitement with a racing heartbeat as Rakesh walks towards me. He continues to disappoint as he passes by without a glance into the restroom. Why didn’t he kiss me? I stood nude with just a towel around.

I throw the towel away and watch the reflection of my curvy body in the mirror. What’s in me? There were so many hot and pretty girls in the reception. Why did he look at me? My eyes scanned all around my body.

My skin was soft with goosebumps due to the cold water bath. My boobs were tender. I shiver as a chill runs through my body the moment the stranger’s face and eyes cross my head. I stare and touch my delicate lips, remembering his dirty words, “I feel like kissing you here, tasting those soft brown lips.”

My husband Rakesh, too, is very romantic, but that man was different. I spit on myself in the mirror, “Thu, Sneha, you are married. You have a lovely husband with a lovely life.” I wore the saree, a revealing red blouse, and matching red glass bangles.

I scan my phone to find messages/missed calls from my friends Rachu and Lakshmi. I texted them informing my late arrival. My husband returns. Oh god, Rakesh is staring at me. He lusts me in this red saree. Oh man, he walked closer to me with a lusty stare.

I don’t care about the saree. I am ready to bathe and re-dress again. I beg in my mind, ‘Please devour me of this saree and fuck me, hubby.’ He smiles, saying, “You look pretty,” and places a peck of a kiss on my cheek. I smile, sounding excited, “Really! Thanks, honey.”

“Are you sure you can’t take leave today? You know she is my best friend, Rakesh.”

Rakesh, “I love to walk with you, now you dressed like this. Very sorry, Sneha. I already told you that there is an important meeting today. Convey my apologies to her.”

I step out of the apartment and rush to my car in my high heels. My legs press the accelerator, speeding the car through the early hours of low traffic in Bangalore.

As I drove,  was my subconscious excited that my husband was not accompanying me today? Was that why I double-confirmed with him even though I knew he wouldn’t be coming? Did my heart want to be alone with this stranger hunk? Was he coming?

I park the car and rush into the bright, sunlit hall. Rachu found me the moment I stepped into the hall, but my eyes were searching for someone else. There was no control over my eyes as they scanned the complete hall in search of the tall stranger.

My heart stopped until my eyes completed the scan. Disappointment in my heart, I wave, keeping a smiling face, and join my friends. Rachu was without her husband, and Lakshmi was with her husband and kid. Rachu pinched my shoulder, “Hey, wow”, looking at me from head to toe.

Even Lakshmi showered appreciation, “Same killer look as you were in college.” I wasn’t moved and moved by their praise. My body longed for the stranger’s eyes and his shower of words. Is he not coming today?

Usually, most attend either reception or marriage but not both. I felt like an idiot expecting him today. Did I wear my hottest wardrobe collection, hoping to impress this tall stranger? I shook my head in disbelief about my deeds as these thoughts ran in my head.

Pulling myself away from my thoughts and heartache, I dragged the 6-year-old son of Lakshmi and started playing with him. One lady distributed akshate (rice), which had to be showered while the groom tied the mangalsutra knot.

As the sound of the band got louder, the groom circled his hand around the bride’s neck to tie the knot. Sitting on the second row, we raised our hands to throw the akshate onto the pair. As the groom tied the knot, akshate flew.

Someone threw akshate on my face. I quickly turned to meet the eyes of this tall stranger, who watched me with a similar stare as yesterday. My lips parted, and somewhere deep inside me, butterflies flew, and a hot thrill and happiness and excitement. A feeling, which cannot be described, ran in my body.

I kept a serious face, which needed a lot of effort since my cheeks were giving away by turning pink with the blush. How long has he been watching me? I froze, knowing that his eyes were looking for mine.

I tried to evade his glaring eyes. But my eyes cheated my intent as they fell under his spell as if no time had passed since last night. My mind was talking loudly inside me, “Go to him. Stay away. You are married.” I returned my gaze to the happily giggling bride and groom.

He disappeared again, nowhere to be found. I searched him in the hall, the dining area while we ate, and outside the hall while we strolled. What the fuck is he playing? We stayed till the end until the bride was sent off with the groom.

My feet didn’t leave the place as I stood after the cars of both Lakshmi and Rachu had left the place. My unmoving legs slowly walked me to my car in slow steps. A manly voice from behind startled me as I opened my car door.

“You disappeared on me.” My heart fell into the pit of my stomach as I recognized the voice. I turned to face the stranger. I hadn’t disappeared, but you did disappear the last night as well as today. I stopped myself from uttering these lines.

His thick voice asked me, “What is your name?” “I . . .,” no words left my lips. He straightened, looking into my eyes with an unreadable face, “Don’t run again. What’s your damn name?” It didn’t occur to question his intensity and the urgency to know my name.

He stood very close to me. I retreated one step back from his shadow, “Sneha,” I said, hardly recognizing my voice. “Sneha, Sneha,” he repeated my name to himself, momentarily satisfied, “Sneha, I am desperate to know you.”

I couldn’t look into his eyes. Whenever my eyes looked at him, my eyelids fluttered in his deadly gaze so close. He continued, “I’d kind of wished you would have worn this outfit for me.” I slid my transparent red saree low, revealing a small glimpse of cleavage.

As his eyes lingered over the cleavage, I inhaled, controlling myself not to react to his inquiring eyes. I wore a red, dangling big earring that matched the saree. For his height, my red stained lips could only reach his neck, that too with this high-heeled sandal.

I stood patiently listening to him as he continued, “Forget talking. I wouldn’t have faced you again after you walked away from me last night. But this outfit…” His eyes ran all along my body. Is he striping me with his eyes seeing through the saree?

He exhaled loudly as he spoke, “In this saree. . .” Before he completed his statement, I blurted out, “There are plenty of women here, single women. If you’re looking for a company. I’m sure they would be very excited.”

He asked, “Do you think I can’t find a girl?” I continued losing control, “Find someone. Bangalore is littered with available women. If an affair is what you want, there are plenty of married women.” He was calmer as he responded, “I don’t want someone.”

I don’t know why I asked the next question. Was I interested/eager to know? “Are you even single?” He smiled, “I am available. Yes, Thanks for asking.” His next words came out of his mouth very clearly, “Is something wrong with your earring?”

I realized I was fidgeting with it, “No.” He said, “You were doing that earlier, too. Inside the hall. Nervous habit?”

Me: If you are asking, if you make me nervous. You don’t. I am long past my youth and college girl life.

His next line, “I should warn you. I’m not good at taking no for an answer. I can be very persistent.” More goosebumps sprung over my skin. His eyes jumped to my jewel-covered neck. He noticed everything. My body was thrilled by his words.

My next question (Was I interested to know him?), “No. How many girls?”

He: None.

Me: I don’t believe that.

He: I am not what you think.

He caught my elbow, “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

I didn’t free myself from his grip, and I wanted him to continue holding me.

Me: No.

He: Lunch then?

Me: Are you serious?

He: I will behave well.

Why couldn’t I splash across his face? And walk away. Why did I stand there listening to him?

My face lied, and my heart didn’t want to speak these words, “How dare you?”

He continued persisting, “I didn’t ask for more than a meal.”

Me: Ask someone else.

He: I don’t want someone else.

Me: Haven’t you heard anything I’ve been trying to tell you?

The words came out, but my eyes were telling something else to him that he could read.

Me: If my husband knew what you were asking…

He challenged, “What would he do?”

Nothing. My hubby would be hurt, but he would never go on to fight for me. He would have told me to ignore it. This man seemed to know that somehow.

He: Leaving such a beautiful lady is his mistake.

I needed to put a stop to my bitchy side. I clenched my teeth as I pulled my Mangalsutra to display, “I am married. Get lost.” My feet unmovingly moved as I drove with a pain in my heart. The thought of this being my last meeting with Rocky sent a wave of dread through me.

There are two more parts. Bear with me. Enjoy every line. I won’t disappoint you.

Thank you, all ISS readers.