Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This is my first story. I wanted to thank John Doe, Sophie and VV for their many helpful comments. I hope to complete a series if my readers find this interesting.
In the prologue to this series, Kabir becomes an accidental voyeur. In the act of watching Isabella at the window, Kabir suddenly is thrown into beginning his journey of sexual exploration. In the rest of the series, I hope to explore how Kabir in taking on the journey of discovering his sexuality learns to distinguish between lust, love and ecstasy.
This story is protected by (c) copyright and may not be duplicated, reprinted, copied or placed on any Internet Website without permission of the author. All rights reserved.
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Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans – John Lennon
“I feel sorry for her situation, but I don’t trust her person.” Those were Sudha’s parting words when she left my apartment for La Guardia airport. I didn’t quite know what she was talking about. Isabella was the apartment manager of the Victorian house that I lived in and she was not part of any plan. In fact, I thought I had it all worked out. Perfectly matched girlfriend in Sudha. Dream career opening. Work in the most happening city. Residence in a natural paradise. But life was about to throw a wrinkle on those aims.
Sudha and I had begun as fellow graduate students from India. We were enrolled at Rice. Sudha was still finishing her degree in Houston. We shared many interests and seemed a perfect match. There was one area where we differed greatly. As a young adult I had grown to become curious about Tantra. In my mind, tantra held the magical possibilities of transforming sexual energy into tokat escort spiritual ecstasy. As an adult, the study of the subject had become an obsession and I even found teachers and practices. Sudha was indulgent of my curiosity, but she was more interested in the non judgmental nature of tantric philosophy. She had grave concerns about the ethics surrounding the practices. So I was alone in my journey of pelvic rocking, delaying ejaculation, raising the sexual energy up the spine.
At 31, I had graduated and was looking forward to making a go at it in the Big Apple in a well-established Tech firm. 1999 was the peak of the Dot com era. While it was considered chic to live in Manhattan, I preferred rustic upstate New York. Morgantown was both a reasonable commute and a housing bargain. It was an industrial town that had known more prosperous days but the downtown had restaurants and coffeehouses as well as places to hear live music. The Palace Theatre was a 1920’s movie palace that showed indie and classic films. Most importantly, it was a Hudson River town.
I lived in a Victorian house that sat on the top of the hill leading from the Hudson. A house divided. Divided into three apartments. A small flight of stairs led into the front porch. The large doorway opened into a central hallway. There was an apartment on the first level. A single flight of stairs took you to my apartment. There was an attic on the third level which had been converted into the third apartment.
Bill was African American and lived above. I saw little of him and knew him mostly by his footsteps as he came and left for his shifts as a driver for UPS. Isabella, in contrast, filled the house with a strong presence. She was Italian American yozgat escort and spoke her mind. In addition to being the tenant below, she also served as the apartment manager. So there was occasion to talk to her about the rent, mail and apartment maintenance. On those occasions, she barked her answers at me.
On asking her about the leaking faucet, she replied, “This whole place should be torn down.”
“Am I your fucking secretary?” was her retort when I asked if she had seen a package for me.
There seemed nothing personal in her insults and cussing. They were doled out in equal measure to all who had occasion to engage with her. She appeared in her late 20’s and was a mother of two boys and by their appearances suggested they had different fathers. The father of her last boy had left, so she was a single mother again. Her T- shirt captured the essence of her attitude.
Cup of Fuckoffee:
One splash of no one cares
A dash of kiss my ass
Add some fuck yous
Stir the engorged head was trying to poke up from my belt. Upon reaching my apartment, I quickly found a chair and pulled the front of my pants down.
Now, I was free to proceed at my own pace using my imagination as my guide. I began stroking again. I imagined Isabella caressing it and inserting it in her mouth. My cock expanding to fill her mouth and getting hard and stiff. She looked up at me and I sensed she enjoyed the sight of my caramel member and the feel of the satin skin with its ridges and veins. As she caressed it with her tongue, the pulses and twitches seemed to get amplified. Next, she gave her attention to the balls, sucking them while lubricating them with generous amounts of saliva. Her occasional zonguldak escort upward gaze only increased my pleasure.
The images faded and my hand returned to stroking. Soon, I sensed the movement of the semen in my penis. I slightly contracted my pelvic muscle and repeated that action a few times and began to breathe in deeply. The pressure eased again and my pelvic muscles began to involuntarily contract as did the muscles around my anus. There was that warm glow again and it began to spread through my entire body as a tingling sensation.
Oh yes!!…..the sweet taste of bliss. I relaxed into that feeling and became a little lightheaded.
I felt I needed to ground myself and feel the pleasure of ejaculation. I closed my eyes and began to fantasize making love missionary style. Passionately kissing her while I pounded her. I sensed the pressure seeking release. Then, for one last time, I felt my semen traveling up the shaft. I pulled out and then when I returned to the physical world, I found my hand was vigorously stroking my cock.
Fuck! I’m going to cum!
I felt my body take a life of its own. I felt my abdomen contract and tense. My breathing seemed to stop. Then, almost as an involuntary action, I shot a small load of cum three inches onto my abdomen. It was sweet relief. Soon, I began feeling the pulsing announcing the arrival of the next shot. This time I imagined myself taking her from behind – doggy style, pinching her nipples and slapping her booty; her moans ringing in my ears. I thrusted harder each time, head tipped back, cock driving deep, balls slapping her ass cheeks. A shiver rippled through me and brought me back to the present. It only took a few strokes before my body spasmed and a large rope of cum lanced straight up and back onto my hand and groin. I groaned softly at the thought of her dripping pussy.
As I sat there recovering, my erection began to quickly subside, and my cock lowered itself. I was relaxed but spent. The Nokia rang and the screen lit up. The caller was Sudha.
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