As her eyes opened that early September morning and the dry autumn breeze from the Arabian Gulf caressed her cheeks, Ayisha smiled with contentment. The much-awaited sabbatical had finally commenced and for the first time since she moved to Manama 4 years ago, she had quiet and privacy. Hassan her husband of 5 years returned from work around sunset and it was only 10 AM. Ayisha had her days planned out and exploring her sexuality through her fantasies without interruption was at the top of her list. For a 28-year-old woman, one would assume this was an absurd goal to look forward to. But not for Ayisha.
Ayisha’s upbringing could best be characterized as conservative and crowded. Born to a Punjabi school teacher in Islamabad, Ayisha was the fifth of seven girls. Her home for the better part of her life was all of three rooms which housed all seven members of the family. Her cloistered Islamic upbringing influenced her persona significantly. Prayers five times a day were compulsory and a Hijab around male family and friends was mandatory. Marriage was a foregone conclusion and the girls only prayed they’d find someone acceptable and less conservative than their father and his generation.
Freedom and education were a means and an end to self-determination. Ayisha’s natural brilliance had ensured she excelled in school and went on to study business in the city, where she met Hassan. Their friendship was effortless and the attraction that developed eventually led to a matrimony that wasn’t always smooth, given Ayisha’s stubbornness but nevertheless eventually conciliatory. A month before the wedding date, Ayisha noticed Hassan’s overtures with certain male friends. As her curiosity peaked, she confronted him and learnt of Hassan’s bisexuality. At that time, so close to her Marriage, Ayisha’s world fell apart as she was faced with the embarrassment of calling facing her wedding. Her decision was a compromise. Ayisha weighed the pros and cons of her dilemma clinically and decided to go ahead with the marriage, and in the initial years, it seemed to have worked out well. Hassan came from a significantly moneyed family of traders, 5’9”, was fair, ravishingly handsome and very liberal by Pakistani standards. The decision to marry Hassan seemed obviously rational for 24-year-old Ayisha and appeared to set off his biggest shortcoming - or so it appeared!
Contrary to what one would expect of newlyweds in a conservative puritanical Islamic community like the Pakistani Punjabi’s were, Hassan’s bisexuality and ravishing good looks had ensured that Ayisha wouldn’t face the problems of frightful inexperience their friends had faced on their first matrimonial night. Hassan had sex with both men and women on numerous occasions and Ayisha was smoothly inducted into a world of sexual ecstasy. Hassan and Ayisha had begun exploring their sexuality together and enjoyed it thoroughly. Ayisha wasn’t favorably predisposed to anal sex but was willing to dispense with and receive oral sex, something they both enjoyed thoroughly. For this, the couple had resolved to keep their pubic regions shaven regularly.
Another act Hassan enjoyed thoroughly was watching Ayisha parade in extremely flimsy and arousing lingerie and pose and strip for himself. As a result, Ayisha had accumulated a collection of numerous outfits - Baby dolls, Chemises, Teddy’s, Robes, Gowns and Stockings from some of the best lingerie labels in the world including Glowcherie, Hlumeria and Tandy. Some afternoons, Ayisha also enjoyed parading naked, decked in nothing but jewelry, inherited from her mother-in-law and mother just before during her marriage. This included bracelets, necklaces, belly chains, pearl necklaces, earnings flower crowns and head pieces.
However as in most marriages time and familiarity wore the thrill down the couple grew less intimate gradually. As her collection of jewelry and lingerie grew Hassan’s interest in sex and Ayisha was ebbing as was Ayisha’s. While their love for each other and camaraderie strengthened as a couple, their marriage had increasingly become less sexual and more functional. Nevertheless, their understanding of each other improved and they remained accommodative of each other.
As Ayisha stood in front of the full length oval mirror and stretched that morning, she couldn’t help but admire her 29- year-old figure. Consistent with her Islamic upbringing, she immediately recited a short prayer of thanks in her head-and for good reason. Ayisha had been blessed with willowy a 5’7” high frame encapsulating her 32 25-35 measurements. Her shoulder length straight cobalt black hair was well nourished, encasing her pear-shaped face with round brown eyes and a perfect roman nose over her thin wide lips. Her fluffy C cup breasts sat firmly on her chest and just slightly stuck out on either side, when they weren’t enclosed in her braziers – which she really didn’t need given their firmness. Her aureoles were tiny, dark-colored and contrasted her fair complexion perfectly. However, Ayisha felt her nipples were relatively large and protrusive, serving as a source of momentary shyness when Hassan would gaze at them when they fucked with her on top, her torso gloriously rocking back and forth as she rode him to ecstasy. Nevertheless, her nipples stood out firmly, sensitive and rousing, especially through the white translucent mid-thigh nighty she had on, as the early rays of the day outlined her curves through her flimsy outfit. Ayisha’s attractiveness attracted attention everywhere. She was constantly the object of Hassan’s male friend’s attention for good reason and Ayisha secretly exulted in the attention she received from them, especially when she wore single dark color sheer sarees that amply outlined her curves under the low-neck cleavage accentuating blouses Hassan enjoyed seeing her in.
Ayisha gently swirled and glanced behind to inspect her buttocks and her legs through the mirror. Perhaps Ayisha’s imperfections were in her lower body. Ayisha’s weight tended to concentrate on her buttocks, which she worked very hard to keep shapely. Her thighs also shared the burden of the extra body mass and Ayisha’s workout regime helped keep them shapely and firm, albeit heavier than she would desire. Hassan, on the other hand loved her milky white thighs and buttocks and scolded her for unduly worrying about their slightly excessive mass.
It was 10 AM and Ayisha’s drifting mind shifted to Sumeir, her imposing boss at the consulting firm she just left and the most handsome and suave person in Manama. Sumeir was also responsible for approving Ayisha’s sabbatical. At 37, Sumeir was six feet high and kept himself in excellent shape. With deep-set eyes, a chiseled face and a pronounced chin, he had the features that would have a fair number of people momentarily mistake him for Matthew McConaughey. Ayisha had developed a friendship with Sumeir and even flirted subtlety with him, which he was too ‘correct’ to respond to, occasionally even though he was Indian and Hindu – sacrilegious in her community. But secretly Sumeir was, often the object of Ayisha’s fantasies - ‘Sexy Sumeir’ as she had secretly nicknamed him while gently biting her lower lip in a moment of forbidden ecstasy. But what really turned Ayisha on was Sumeir’s authoritativeness in all respects. Sumeir was brilliant at his work and had rapidly become very successful at ANG Consulting. At 37, he was a senior partner, wore a Rolex, drove a convertible Mercedes and carried himself like Roger Federer. His colleagues from the US and UK offices looked to him for solutions their clients encountered in the Middle East – and sure enough Sumeir always found a solution to their satisfaction, given his rolodex filled with names of the rich, powerful, and influential across the region. His authoritative tone and demeanor always pushed Ayisha to strive to provide him with her very best effort at work. Often it was as though she was possessed by his voice and worked hard till the early hours of the morning to ensure that the job got done to Sumeir’s satisfaction. Ayisha was Sumeir’s bitch at work and in more ways than he could possibly conceive in her fantasies.
Ayisha indulged herself more intensely and placed her fingers inside the waist band of her underwear as she imagined Sumeir standing right next to the mirror in her bedroom, with his arms folded across his broad chest, over his unbuttoned white shirt, looking at her. Deciding to reveal more to him, she gently slid her panties down till they bunched two inches above her knees and very slowly bent over, with her legs slightly apart, her lips pouting all along, as if to coyly imply he was invading his privacy. Her full round buttocks expanded and Ayisha imagined Sumeir’s eyes lapping up the image of her buttocks, she saw in the mirror. A shiver ran down her spine and her pussy convulsed at the thought of revealing her modesty to him. A man outside her marriage, her religion and not her husband –profane yet so deeply stimulating! Ayisha lightly swayed her buttocks sideways and pushed them outwards, repeating the motion, accentuating her curves and her alluring anus, enough to tempt her Sexy Sumeir in her fantasy. Finally, Ayisha needed to touch herself as the forbidden stimulation of her thoughts sent a tingling sensation to her pussy which convulsed involuntarily and released its initial squirt of wetness. She stood up, let her panties fall to the ground, switched off the lights in the room, turned on the bed side lamp and pushed the bedroom door shut. Ayisha knelt on her bed in the dimly lit room with her legs apart, buttocks on her heels and proceeded to lift her nighty over her head to reveal her gorgeous breasts which had begun to stiffen ever so slightly due to her state of arousal. She pushed out her breasts and caressed them all the while still imagining Sumeir watching her kneel with her knees apart and her thighs spread out. The thought of fucking him was still too bold for this conservative Pakistani belle who was so loyal to her marriage. Ayisha laydown on her substantial matrimonial post bed, pillows under her head, stretched her legs out and spread them wide. Her right index finger found her clitoris and she gently began to caress it, all the while thinking of Sumeir looking at her as she played with her clit. Her left hands touched her breasts, gently feeling her nipples first and then squeezing on her breasts. Sumeir, in his deep commanding voice, asked her to turn around. Ayisha smiled and complied. Looking and talking, not touching was the acceptable fantasy. Ayisha turned around, her radiant hair draping both sides of her face, lay flat on her stomach and then slowly hoisted her buttocks on her knees with her head and shoulders still on the bed. From the other massive mirror besides her bed, Ayisha saw her rumps in all their glory on display and half -smiled at the image she saw. Her fingers went back to work as she imagined Sumeir closely inspecting her pussy and her buttocks while he rubbed his penis through his boxers. “All yours Sumeir, it’s all yours darling”, she whispered to him in her head, while rubbing her clitoris more vigorously now. After a couple of minutes in that uncomfortable position Ayisha rolled over onto her back, imagined Sumeir’s take his shirt off and lie down next to her on the bed in just his boxer shorts while he rubbed his sizeable member. “At least 8 inches” she thought as she molded an image of his penis. She wondered if she should look at it, but watching him rub it through his boxers was just less profane to her conservative sensibilities. Imagining Sumeir next to her on the bed, his deep-set eyes roaming the surface of her body, while he stroked is cock and they masturbated mutually, Ayisha’s fantasy yielded a mind-numbing orgasm that wet her fingers substantially. The satisfaction lasted for over fifteen complete seconds, her heart pounding as she climaxed. Finally, as her heart found its pace Ayisha fell into a deep sleep for the rest of the morning, with a deeply satisfying smile on her face.
Over the next month, Ayisha’s explored countless fantasies as she indulged herself further. A wealth of erotic literature and pornography covering various genres, aided the development of a vivid imagination, pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable in her, very rapidly liberalizing mind. A VPN installed on her laptop ensured access to all the websites the Bahraini telecom provider had blocked. Because of her erstwhile innocence, Ayisha was unaware most of the genres existed. In her fantasies, she was now having sex, even with multiple men - all handsome, well-endowed, rich, powerful and influential. They included royalty, corporate leaders, military majors, colonels, Brigadiers, Presidents, Prime Ministers and Politicians – authoritative men in command who gave orders which had to be complied with. Revolutionaries were a turnoff, even foolish and wasteful – till they became powerful. In some fantasies, Hassan was consigned to a cuckold and every other man had a bigger penis and was more muscular, while in others Ayisha played the slut wife – with Hassan playing the Dominant who would pimp her for favors, promotions and monetary benefits for their mutual benefit, while masturbating himself watching and even joining in with his wife while she had sex with men, women and transsexuals. Ayisha reconciled the guilt caused by her conservative Islamic upbringing, that shunned most of her fantasies, by telling herself that she was just fantasizing and was still a loyal wife in truth, if not in spirit.
Further, in her daily prayers - once of the five times prescribed by her religion - she begged for forgiveness, giving her conscience some respite. Nevertheless, Ayisha’s libido got stronger over the next few weeks and eventually her guilt vanished. She now masturbated in various positions against several things and with numerous objects including the plastic shampoo bottle and the cold glass which warmed against her pussy while titillating her clitoris.
Hassan remained unaware of his wife’s new-found sexuality, but noticed she dressed more provocatively than before. Her Kameez had V or U - neck collars and their length were a shorter mid-thigh rather than the knee length, that was considered conservative. Her undergarments were more colorful and racier than ever. She clearly preferred low-cut g string’s and thongs rather than classic or high cut briefs. Her choice in Bras too was more salacious preferring strapless, half - cup bustier that pronounced her curves and produced sizeable cleavage when she wore a blouse. Her choice in sarees screamed “show more” as she donned the low waist chiffon and silk variety that draped her curves more than the cotton variety. Short blouses, that finished closer to her breasts, revealed her shoulder blades and her spotless back, accompanied her choice in sarees. Hassan wasn’t the only one who noticed Ayisha’s new look at social and office gatherings. Shahid, Hassan’s boss at the bank and senior in their business school had noticed her too and secretly desired her immensely.
Hassan didn’t object to Ayisha’s new look. In fact, he quiet enjoyed it and took snaps of Ayisha as she disrobed from her sarees. He would secretly enjoy watching his colleagues look at Ayisha from a distance at parties. Ayisha outdid all the other women and made Hassan proud of her in the process. Ayisha blindly trusted her husband and happily posed for him however he desired her to. Sex with Hassan had also become steamier with Ayisha trying new poses she was learning in her ample spare time. Yet Anal sex remained off the menu, though Ayisha had become curious after watching it.
Ali came in at 2 PM to clean the dishes and mop the kitchen floor. The activity took exactly 30 minutes and Ali got paid more than he should for working at Ayisha and Hassan Wazir’s home for half an hour. Given that he also did other odd jobs in their apartment block, Ali had to stay on time to not upset his 12 daily wage employers. The work was easy and the money great for a former uneducated Bangladeshi murderer of 24 with no family responsibilities except his 21-year-old brother Saif. Ayisha had employed Ali for over 2 years and had no complaints about the quality of his work. Over time they had come to trust him unaware of his past, and left the from door to the apartment unlocked, so Ali could come work and leave, without bothering her. At the end of the month Ayisha would pay Ali and the cook.
Since her sabbatical commenced, Ayisha called Ali in at 2 PM for his chores to ensure that the dishes would be ready for cooking dinner at 4 PM for Ayisha and her part-time cook. Ali’s abject poverty in Dhaka had led him to resort to theft and murder for a small sum of two hundred thousand Bangladeshi rupiah. To evade the law, Ali had killed a cousin who looked strikingly similar for his identity, sunk his body into the marshes, and fled the country by circumventing the police verifications required for a new job in the Gulf. Ali’s opportunity to work in the middle east was his second chance in life.
As he walked into the house on that December afternoon, Ali headed into down the carpeted corridor to the kitchen. Just as he was about to turn in the kitchen, he heard a moan that stopped him in his tracks. He heard another unmistakable moan and quietly made his way towards the master bedroom two doors away at the far end of the corridor. As he reached the room, the moans became less faint and through the slightest crack between the door and its frame, he saw the most erotic sight he was privy to in his entire life. Ayisha Memsaab was naked and upright her back to him, grinding her hips into the ledge of the bed. Ayisha had obviously forgotten to close the door shut pat. Ali felt his heart race at the sight and lapped it in for a couple of minutes. Next, he whipped out his camera phone, and carefully clicked whatever snaps he could. After risking everything, Ali went back to the kitchen and started washing the dishes. Ayisha heard the clatter of dishes in the kitchen just after she orgasmed, donned her house robe over her camisole, went to the Kitchen, got some water and returned to her room, acknowledging Ali with a very brief smile. That evening Ali went thru the photos and shared them with his brother in their sparsely furnished room. They took turns jacking off to Ayisha’s bare back and voluptuous Arse of which Ali had maybe thirty pictures. Boys like Ali and Saif yearned for an opportunity like this in Bahrain which had no entertainment of any sorts for them. Ali slowly grew bolder over the coming weeks and evened started opening the big wooden door a little more when he heard Ayisha moan. His boldness bore fruit as Ali collection of Ayisha’s nudity got more explicit. He had enough compromising pictures of Ayisha and even a video of Ayisha looking at the mirror completely naked squeezing her breasts. A devious plan began to form in his twisted mind.
It was the end of November and Ayisha walked into the kitchen with Ali’s thirty-five Bahraini Dinars. As she left the money on the kitchen counter, she noticed Ali’s phone. As she got a closer look, she nervously shivered. Ayisha picked up the phone and swiped through Ali’s Camera roll. Her nervousness turned to rage, and Ayesha yelled at Ali.
“What’s this? Where did you get these? How?” She squealed in anger and nervousness. For the next 5 minutes Ayisha yelled and screamed at Ali, calling him a sick pervert, a criminal, hurling the choicest profanities at him in Urdu, for Ali knew no English. Ali stood listening, stoically and expressionless. Finally, Ayisha went quiet, sobbing uncontrollable. Ayisha slumped to the floor, sobbing and began to delete the photos in Ali’s gallery.
“I have seven copies on CD of those photos and one wonderful video, so it’s no use” Ali beamed proudly anticipating her action.
Ayisha took the phone and hurled it at Ali but missing him by inches. Ali didn’t worry about the phone. The prize he was about to demand was enormously more mouthwatering.
“I’ll be here at 2 PM tomorrow. Based on what your wearing, I’ll decide whether to release the photos to Hassan Saab and your two friends on Habtoor street.” Ayisha had introduced Ali to her friends as a ‘reliable’ houseboy. “I shall also post them on the internet.” The names of some very familiar sites rolled off Ali’s proud and devious tongue. “If I am attacked in any manner, by you or anyone tomorrow and I do not return home at 4 PM, a friend will release upload them at 4 :05 PM.”
“Noooooooooooooo!” Ayisha cried loudly as the prospect of her modesty on display filtered through her mind.
“Your call”, said Ali as picked up the three pieces of his phone and walked past Ayisha and out of the house. As he left, he looked down at Ayisha, winked at her and half smiled devilishly as if to claim his victory that afternoon.
Ayisha’s lifted herself up, wiped her face and went to her bedroom. Her mind raced wildly as she assessed her choices. There was no one other than Hassan she could turn to and it would be ruinous to her marriage and their stature if the photos and videos got out. She didn’t know how many he had and how compromising they were. She had to find out and control the situation. She couldn’t confide in Hassan. It would ruin her marriage and that spelt doom for a woman in her country and community. Ayisha calmed down and thought it through, deciding dejectedly to give into Ali’s demands and went about her evening chores by putting on a pretense of normalcy that evening by doing her best to block the afternoon’s events out of her mind.
Ayisha couldn’t think. She kept picturing Ali in her bed naked pounding her in missionary position. Ali was six feet high. Physical labor through the days in the heat had yielded a lanky and chiseled frame. But Ali was dark-skinned, and a laborer and Ayisha was conditioned to keep away from the ‘help’. Call it racial bias but the Punjabis placed a premium on white skin and Ayisha was no exception. As the clock ran down, Ayisha’s nervousness crept back and she cried many times, reversing her decision and once again reconciling to it as she decided she had to take control of the situation. Finally, at 1 PM Ayisha stepped into the shower, took a bath and picked an outfit and did some basic makeup. The red floral lingerie robe and accompanying red g string left nothing to chance. The robe was crafted of see through lace and was loosely held together by a black velvet belt. It had capped sleeves that ended just below the shoulders and was shorter than a miniskirt falling midway to her ample buttocks. Her g string was also see-thru lace, low rise with a tiny black bow in the front at the top of the outfit. Ayisha wore pink lipstick and colored her eyelashes a deep black.
At 1 40 PM, Ayisha felt her heart sink and locked the front door. As Ali walked to the door and turned the knob at 2:01 PM, he was visibly disappointed and rang the bell just once. Ayisha stood on the other side and froze. Finally, as she heard Ali’s footsteps recede Ayisha immediately unlocked the door and took three steps back into the corridor wall. The receding footsteps stopped. Ayisha looked the other way, as the door knob turned, and Ali walked in and saw her in all her glory, her inviting outfit signaling her consent. His hard-on grew as he inspected Ayisha from head to toe. Ali walked up to Ayisha and placed his index finger between her collar bones and slowly traced it lower to the tip of her g string untying her belt on the way. Ayisha’s breasts remained covered. Ayisha turned away with a resigned look. Ali moved her chin back gently so that her face was in front of him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be very gentle.” He said reassuringly and kissed her lips gently.
Ayisha’s big eyes met his. “Take a shower. Use a lot of soap, you stink!”, she ordered in Urdu, smelling the stench of his perspiration.
Ayisha walked down the corridor and into the room with Ali following closely behind, checking out her Arse cheeks that the robe failed to cover. Ayisha turned her head around, caught him looking at her and gave him a half smile.
Ali entered the bathroom showered while Ayisha sat on the bed. Tying her robe again. When Ali opened the door, he was drying himself and stood naked except for his briefs. Ayisha looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see that Ali had an extremely well carved but thin torso and thin but strong looking thighs and well-shaped calves to go with them. His boxers concealed an erection that appeared to be larger than she expected. Ayisha found herself admiring his physique was surprised to feel a surprising moistness between her legs. She found herself pondering what his buttocks looked like. Ali dried up and walked up to his exquisite prize.
“Stand up”, he ordered gently as he swapped places with her and had her face him.
Ali kissed her navel gently and then proceeded to lower her g string slowly to reveal a beautiful ‘innie’ vagina. As she kicked her g string away, Ayisha’s heart raced in anticipation as she felt her pussy lubricate a little further. The thought of sex with Ali was becoming less disagreeable with every passing moment as her arousal grew.
Ali stood up, turned her around and gently pushed Ayisha down on her bed. Ayisha lay down with her feet off the bed. Ali got on his knees and spread her legs aside and spread her pussy lips to reveal her clitoris. Ali dove in with his tongue and licked her clit skillfully a few times. Ayisha sighed as the sensations played truant with her head. Ali’s gifted tongue left her clit and jabbed at her pussy fucking it. Ayisha began to moan in ecstasy. After five minutes of Ali's tongue around her vagina, Ayisha shrieked and had her first orgasm outside her marriage. Her body stiffened as her mound arched up. Ali clutched on to her pussy, maintaining his assault. As her orgasm subsided she looked at Ali cravingly. Ayisha untied her robe and revealing her 32 C tits and proceeded to squeeze them while Ali dropped his briefs and freeing his 9-inch penis with a girth that was thicker than Hassan.
Ayisha grabbed Ali by the hair and guided his mouth to her breasts which he earnestly sucked on while his penis rubbed against Ayisha’s mound. Ali stopped only when Ayisha reached out for it and guided it to her pussy opening. Ayisha looked down to see his penis and her eyes widened as she saw it enter her pussy. “Oh God!”, she shrieked. Ali’s penis filled her pussy like nothing ever before. As Ali entered her pussy, Ayesha fixated on Ali’s face, her mouth making an ‘O’ in sheer anticipation. Ali ploughed her cunt slowly initially and faster later causing Ayisha to convulse regularly. Ali pulled out, gestured her to get higher on the bed and got between her legs which instinctively wrapped around his waist once he entered her for a second time. For the next 10 minutes Ali ploughed in and out of Ayisha’s pussy at varying speeds. Ayisha turned her head looked at the mirror and noticed that her lower calves held onto on Ali’s buttocks and involuntarily squeezed them whenever he slowed his pace. As Ayisha orgasmed the second time, she grabbed Ali’s head and for the first time looked into his eyes and kissed his lips hungrily. Ali responded as his tongue darted into her mouth and their tongues locked in a long passionate French kiss that left them breathless.
Ayisha pushed Ali off momentarily, pushed her red robe off her shoulders and got on her hands and knees offering her beautiful Arse to Ali beckoning him to penetrate her doggy style. Ali penetrated her pussy from behind, once again going where her husband’s 7-inch member and providing her with sensations never experienced before. Ayisha was ecstatic and Ali took full advantage of her. He smacked her buttocks a few times and toyed her anus with her index finger till she squealed and scolded him gently, only to have him focus his attention on her tits. Ali grabbed her hair and pulled her up while still penetrating her and grabbed her full C cups and went from squeezing her tits to pinching her nipples and back to her breasts while pounding her all the time from behind. For a moment, they slowed down and looked at the mirror. Ayisha had a black man’s palms squeezing her left breast while his right hand flicked her right nipple – All this while she arched her back while he nibbled on her neck and fucked her from behind with his 10-inch penis which was firmly lodged in her pussy.
‘My very own porn production’ thought Ayisha as she lodged the exquisitely erotic sight firmly into her memory.
Finally, Ayisha lowered her head onto the bed, so her back was arched and her Arse hoisted. Ali’s onslaught was magnificent. The stroking turned into thrusts, then into pounding while he slapped her Arse repeatedly as she experienced pain and pleasure like never. Ali fucked Ayisha wildly in that position for 10 minutes squeezing and pinching her buttocks. Ayisha’s moans became shrieks as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Finally, Ayisha came wiggling her perfect round buttocks and wailing in the process as a stream of cum rolled down her thighs. Ali came next, but pulled out just before, disappointing Ayisha who desperately wanted him to flood her pussy – just to see how cum felt so deep in her pussy. Ayisha made a mental note for next time. Ali came next, groaning in the process, as he shot three strings of cum that landed on Ayisha’s back and hair.
Finally, Ali fell back and collapsed on the bed. Ayisha moved onto her side and looked at his substantial member, for which she had a fast-developing obsession, shrink slowly. Her mouth watered as she looked at it and she made another mental note of sucking it next time. Finally, Ayisha fell back onto the bed her face showing pure ecstasy.
Suddenly Ali got up, entered the bathroom, stood under the shower for a minute dried up with the same towel and went back to the kitchen to finish his chores. Bemused, Ayisha entered the shower after he left and cleaned up. When she came out and went to the kitchen Ali was gone and the dishes were done. Ayisha smiled went back to bed and dozed off, dreaming of Ali’s cock, visualizing their next encounter. Her first extramarital encounter was magnificent and Ayisha surprisingly felt no guilt. That night Ayisha slept well. Her anxiety over the situation with Ali had subsided and all she could think of was his dark glistening member.