This a work of fiction. This is my first time. Gradually I will try to write longer ones. I came home from work on a Friday night to find a new woman in my kitchen. She was wearing Manisha’s favorite sundress. It’s pale yellow with tiny little blue flowers all over, and the straps are slim bands of lace.
Manisha has hair so birch-pale, it’s striking, and she wears her hair short. This woman in Manisha’s sundress had long hair. She was faced away from me as I walked into the kitchen. that black hair of hers cascaded down to the middle of her back in a ripple of midnight mink.
The first thought in my head was, “What the fuck is going on here?” Manisha’s i10 was in the driveway. None of her friends’ vehicles had been parked out front. So this wasn’t one of her girlfriends. Besides, would she let a friend wear that dress of hers?
As I opened my mouth to speak, the woman turned around—and hell, my heart skipped two beats. The woman was Manisha my beautiful bride, my winsome
wife. But she’d transformed herself. I took a step closer. She was wearing more makeup than usual. Generally, she favors a natural look.
A little pink gloss on her pretty lips, a tiny bit of neutral shadow on her eyelids. This ‘other’ Manisha had on deep red lipstick and a shimmering blue shadow. She was even wearing a bright blush. Or maybe she was blushing! “Hey, Abhi,” she said, and she looked at me, and then looked down at the floor.
She seemed to want my approval, or my opinion before she continued. I looked down, too. She was wearing yellow fishnets and high heels. This was something else. I could feel my hard-on starting right then. I did what any normal man would do. I came up close, wrapped my baby in my arms, and I kissed her.
“You look delicious,” is what I said, rather than lovely—which she also did, which she always is. What I wanted to do right then was lift her up on our sturdy kitchen table, push that dress of hers to her hips, and lick her sweet honey pot until she screamed my name.
“Delicious,” she echoed, and she cocked a hip at me and smiled. “What’s got into you?” I asked, indicating the wig, the makeup, the total transformation from toe to tip.
“Mamta and I went shopping today on our lunch break, and we thought it would be fun to hit this wig store. I didn’t plan on buying one, but Mamta said I looked pretty in it.”
“‘Pretty’ doesn’t even start to describe what you look like,” I told her. It had never occurred to me that Manisha might be interested in dressing up before. I don’t know why. We’ve always had an exciting sex life, but this flipped my switch in a whole new way.
“I am going to eat your pussy until you can’t stop coming,” I promised her, and with that, I did just what I’d envisioned. I picked her up and put her ass on the table. Manisha squealed with delight. She knew what was coming. She knows how much I love eating her delectable snatch.
On the table, she was the one to hike up her dress, revealing her next surprise. She had on those fishnets, but she wasn’t wearing panties underneath. Not only that, her pussy was shaved entirely bare. She’d really thought this thing through! I got myself into position and started to tongue her through the netting.
Manisha moaned when my mouth met her pussy. She was all wet already. Clearly, she’d been doing some fantasizing of her own while waiting for me to get home from work. I looked up at her, saw that dark hair, saw my wife’s face. It was such a dangerous sensation.
I knew I was making love to Manisha’s pussy. But there was this feeling that she was a different woman. All because of the hair and makeup. I kept running my tongue over her split, knowing that she could feel the pressure against her slippery flower even with the fishnets in the way.
But before too long, I needed more. “Your cock!” she demanded. My wife knows her mind. She always makes sure I understand her desires. “This cock?” I teased as I shucked my boots and jeans. I wasn’t wearing boxers. “Right now, Abhi. I’m not kidding!”
I got onto our old antique table with her, knowing from many pleasurable past experiences that the table can more than hold our weight. After ripping her fishnets off, I positioned myself in a 69 position with my hungry bride. She wrapped her lips right around my cockhead without any warning.
I returned the favor by parting her petal lips with my fingers and easily locating her throbbing clitoris. In tandem, we brought each other higher and higher. I teased her by sucking hard on that button and then running my tongue in a circuitous route all around it.
She wasn’t in the teasing mood. She sucked on my cock as if she’d been dreaming of this moment all day long. Who knows? Maybe she had. Maybe when she’d been at work, organizing the papers in her office, dealing with clients. She’d been daydreaming of my thick cock thrusting down her sweet deep throat.
She definitely treated me with that sort of finesse. I wanted to be inside her. As if we’d had the same thought simultaneously, Manisha pulled back far enough to say, “Abhi, fuck me. Please fuck me! Then I’ll lick all my juices off your dick!” I couldn’t resist that request.
I don’t think there’s a man out there who could! I shifted us a little bit, moving so that I was standing by the table and she was right up against the edge, her knees bent, her cunt exposed. I held her hips and ran my cock up and down her split. I’m always one for drawing things out. She is the opposite.
She likes immediate gratification. This is why teasing her is so much fucking fun. She writhes and begs, and her moans grow louder and louder the longer I put off her climax. I gazed into her eyes as I slammed my dick inside her welcoming body. She wrapped her long legs around me and held me to her.
Then I was simply pounding into her as she cried out my name. “Oh, Abhi! Oh, fuck! Oh, Abhi!” Each time I thrust forward, I made sure to go as deep as I possibly could. I used one hand to toggle her clit for her. My thumb giving her the precise pressure and contact she required.
I could tell when the fireworks went off inside her. She shut her eyes and rocked her head back and forth. She pushed my hand away when she could take no more. Then she moved so that we were disconnected and spun around to face me.
Bending low on the table, she did as she’d promised, sucking her sweet juices off the length of my cock. She bobbed her lovely head as she worked. I made the mistake of running my fingers through the synthetic strands of her wig.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” I moaned. “You got me. I’m going to…”
I’d given her fair warning, but she didn’t pull away. That let me know that what she wanted was to milk every last drop from my balls, so I let her. She siphoned off my pleasure with grace, swallowing all I had to give before sitting back on her heels and grinning at me.
“So, what did you think, Abhi?” she asked as she climbed off the table and adjusted herself. “What did I think?” I repeated, still stunned. “About my new look.” She lifted the wig and shook it off, then set it down on the table. “Beautiful,” I told her, “You’re always beautiful.”
She grinned. “I’m glad you think so.” Then she raised her eyebrows at me. “Because tomorrow night, you might come home to find a redhead,” I told her that I couldn’t wait. And I meant it.
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