A THIN RIVULET of sweat started at Kuntal’s throat and trickled slowly between her breasts. She groaned loudly, arching her back slowly, steeply, thrusting her lovely breasts upwards, turning her face to one side.

“Oh ma uhhhhh yes!” she called. “Yes ... oh god yes ... fuck me! Fuck me, lover ... ohhhhh uhhhh yes ... OHHHH uhh OHMA uhhhh OHHHH!”

Bent over her on his knees and outstretched arms, the handsome young servant bit his lower lip and slowly sank his throbbing penis into her hot, wet, tight cunt. Deeper and deeper it went and the young girl whimpered, her hips rising to meet his in descent, her head arching back now, radiant with lust. Her cunt convulsed on his erection and the servant gasped, flexing his buttocks and pushing and squeezing his cock deeper still into her soft flesh. Her legs split wider, her feet climbed the backs of his thighs and her fingers dug into the hard, bulging muscles of his biceps.

“OHHHHHHHH uhhh Ohma uhhh OHHH uhh yes uhh hanh Kisan hanh uhhh OHHHHH!” she moaned.

Kisan couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was so very lovely, so utterly irresistible. For a fleeting second, he marvelled at his extraordinary fortune. There couldn’t be that many servants who had the opportunity of regularly fucking the daughter of the household. Fewer still were blessed enough to be able to fuck both daughters. Kuntal and her younger sister, Mamta, were beautiful, sexually ravenous and ever ready for a fuck.

The two could not have been more different. The younger girl, Mamta, was a vixen in bed. With her, it was always hard, demanding, driving fucking, carnal and animal in every aspect, fierce and, ultimately, debilitating. This one, the elder, was gentle, generous, pliant and tender with her lovers. The fucking was prolonged and often subtly nuanced, immensely satisfying. Where Mamta took her pleasure, greedily, rapaciously, Kuntal gave without measure.

“Ohhhhh uhhh yes! Oh yes Kisan yes!” she gasped, thrusting her gorged breasts up at him.

Her cunt convulsed on his cock and he groaned and lowered his head to one succulent, upthrust mound, sucking it sharply, letting go, whipping the hard nipple with his teeth. Kuntal moaned her pleasure, her torso writhing under his, her hips rocking and bucking with his.

II

SHE DROVE HIM CRAZY that evening with the clothes she wore, her manner, just everything. They were alone at home and she had taken it into her head to clean up the small garden she loved with a passion. Kisan stripped down to his tight vest and trousers and picked up a broom. She wore denim jeans and short tee-shirt with a low U-neck, a gold necklace sparkling around her neck on her creamy skin. She had a stunning face, sweetly oval with large, deep brown eyes, a cute nose and full lips. There was a sexy little beauty spot right at her throat. She wasn’t tall, but she had a knockout figure — wonderful breasts, high and firm and shapely, thrusting out proudly, in succulent invitation over her firm belly. Her hips were flared just right.

She tormented him relentlessly. He could tell from the way her tits jiggled when she walked that she hadn’t worn a bra. The tee-shirt showed a lot of cleavage. When he squatted to dig in a flowerbed, she sauntered across and stooped, her hands on her knees so the T-shirt hung open and he couldn’t help but see the gorgeous mounds of her breasts. He kept staring at her, wanting to ravish her right there in the open.

Kuntal knew he wanted her and it delighted her. Despite being not very tall, he was very well built and good-looking. He had strong shoulders, a deep chest and a rock-hard belly. She could see his body’s contours through the sleeveless vest. His torso was glistening with sweat and she noticed it was quite sexily without hair. His hips were taut and narrow and she drank in the sight of the bulging biceps in his arms. I want this guy, she thought, her eyes lingering on the bulge in his crotch.

Kisan had slept with her sister but she didn’t know that. She had nearly forced him to take her. This one was leading him on. Now she bent over a low flower bed with her hands on her knees and her t-shirt drooped open and he saw the lovely swell of her breasts and wanted to plunge his hands into her clothes. Kuntal noticed the bulge growing in his crotch and felt the heat surge in her loins.

“We’ll finish up tomorrow,” she murmured, straightening. “Come in now.”

He followed her into the house where she kicked off her shoes. Without a backward glance, she went into her bedroom. Sighing, he turned and was heading for the kitchen and the servant’s quarters when he heard her call for him. He turned around and went into the bedroom. She was standing at the window, looking out, her back to him.

“Yes?” he murmured. “You want something, miss?”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes sombre. You, she thought to herself, her eyes slowly sliding up and down his lean, hard body. I want you. And I’m going to have you, you sexy stud.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I do,” and stepped softly across the room, coming up very close to him.

He reacted instinctively, about to take a step back when she stopped him, her fingers gripping his thin shirt. Her eyes smouldered as she lifted her face. Her lips were soft, parted. Her eyes were glazed. Slowly, she slid her hands up the curve of his chest, over his shoulders, curled them around his head, pulled his face down to hers. Her mouth flowered under his and Kisan groaned, kissing her hard. She bent her body against his, pressing her crotch to him. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest, even the stiffness of her nipples. She plucked open the buttons of his shirt, pulled it open, her hands caressing the muscular contours of his chest, her fingernails raking over his small, dark nipples. Bending her head, she swept her tongue over one nipple, sucked it gently, then moved to the other. Her fingers slipped down his hard belly, flicked open his trousers. She crossed her arms, took the lower hem of her T-shirt and began lifting it up, up over her belly, over her naked breasts and then he was pulling it off her, his hands on her breasts, marvelling at the perfection of their form, pinching and tweaking the nipples and she was shuddering and trembling in his arms.

They fell to the bed, with her on her back, kissing feverishly, struggling out of their trousers and jeans. She slid her hands down his back, clenched his buttocks, moved her hands beneath his belly and she gasped softly, moaning, as her fingers curled lovingly around the long, hard thickness of his penis.

“Take me,” she murmured, sweeping her tongue through his ear. “Take me Kisan ... it’s not my first time ...”

But he knew that already. He bent his head to her breasts, lapping at her stiff nipples and she shuddered, closing her eyes. He sucked on them one by one, nibbling the stiff points. She murmured her pleasure, caressing his head. He dragged his tongue lower, down her flat belly to the soft fuzz between her legs. They split open at once and the warm, moist aroma of her cunt rose, filling his nostrils. She pulled her cunt-lips open, lifting her hips to his face.

The servant drove his tongue into her slit and she gasped sharply, arching her body under his, her hips jerking up, her hands in his hair.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh uhhh yes!” she gasped. “Oh god yes!”

Her cunt was wet, streaming with her juices and he lapped at them gently, exploring the soft flesh within. Her clitoris was stiff and quivering under his lips and tongue. Slowly, he slid a finger into her slit, tongue- and finger-fucking her simultaneously. She moaned, her head rolling from side to side, her hips writhing and bucking under his face.

“Ohhh uhh ohma uhhhh yes oh god yes!” Kuntal whimpered ecstatically. His tongue was wonderful in her slit, thick and heavy, probing deep, lapping and flickering like electric lightning against her swollen clitoris. Her excitement mounted, and, gasping and mewing and panting, she made him stop, pulling him up over her. They kissed hungrily and she pushed her tongue greedily into his mouth, squirming under him, her cunt writhing against his groin.

“Take me,” she gasped. “C’mon, Kisan! Take me! Lele mujhe!”

He entered her quickly and she cried out sharply, the breath rushing from her throat as his huge penis pierced her cunt. Her back bowed under his and her hips rose to meet his in descent. His cock was huge, long and hot and hard and it went in and in and in, piercing the innermost recesses of her cunt, stretching her cunt-lips wide, grinding over her gorged clitoris. Her cunt convulsed on his penis and he gasped, flinging his head back, his body angled over hers on knees and outstretched arms, his powerful shoulders knotting. She clenched his arms and wound her legs about his lean hips, drawing him deeper into her cunt, a hot, wet vortex, sucking his penis inward.

“OHHHHHH uh OHMA uhhhh hanh uhhh Kisan uhhh yes oh god yes!” she gasped.

The young servant grunted, fighting for control, the fires raging in his groin. He gritted his teeth and slowly unflexed his buttocks, lifting his hips. His cock slid outward and she moaned, biting her lower lip in exquisite tension. He paused for a second and then, smoothly, seamlessly, flexed his buttocks and drove his hips down and forward again. His cock surged into her again, driving a wet wall of pleasure through her body. Kuntal’s head arched back and she moaned, her hips jerking upwards to their tryst with his. He hit a rhythm then, moving his hips up and down, his buttocks flexing and unflexing alternately, his massive, throbbing penis sawing in and out of her cunt, appearing and disappearing into her cunt, glistening with their comingled juices.

Beneath him, Kuntal moaned deliriously, her loins on fire. The servant’s cock felt wonderful, thick and heavy and hard, crushing her swollen clitoris in its relentless passage. She whimpered her lust, her hips rising and falling under his, her body rocking to and fro with his thrusts, her swollen breasts jiggling and bouncing as he rocked into her. She dug her fingers into his taut buttocks, drawing him down deeper into her. Their bodies rocked and writhed together, their gasps and cries husky, heavy, loaded. He bent his head and kissed her and she moaned, writhing against him and he moved his head lower to her breasts, sucking on the turgid mounds. She arched her back beneath his, feeding her breasts to his lips.

“Ohhh uhhh yes, Kisan, yes ... hanh ... lele mujhe ... take me!” she groaned. “Jorse le ... take me harder!”

“Chul Kuntal chul ... lele ... le mere lavde ko!” he gasped, his hips rising and falling, rising and falling in an erotic cadence. “Hanh ... uhh hanh uhh hanh!”

Faster and faster they went, their cries rising in urgency, pitch, volume, his penis now pistoning in and out of her cunt and suddenly he slid down on her, holding her and swung over on his back, taking her on top of him without withdrawing from her cunt. Kuntal gasped and moaned, finding herself astride the servant’s lean hips, her cunt deeply impaled on his cock, her swollen breasts pendulous over his face. He held her buttocks, pulling her down deeper onto his cock, then slid his hands up to her breasts, squeezing them, tweaking and pinching the long, stiff nipples in their puckered aureoles. Craning his head, he dragged his tongue over them in turn and she shuddered, her buttocks squirming on his lap. Kneeling over him, her arms outstretched, Kuntal began riding his cock slowly, moaning and whimpering her joy. Her hips rose and fell over his lap, her cunt running up and down the length of his penis. Kisan grunted, heaving his hips up and down beneath her, savouring the hot, tight clamp of her wet cunt on his burning cock. She swung her hips in a tight, spiralling, cork-screwing action with each downthrust, squeezing his cock with her cunt. It was an incredibly erotic feeling and the servant groaned, his hands on her waist, moving her up and down over him. Her gold necklace tossed on her creamy skin: she really had a perfect complexion, her skin firm, yet soft, silken and satiny like a ripe grape. There was a sexy little beauty mark on the inside of her left breast, another at the base of her throat. Her face was a mask of lust, her full, luscious lips parted, her eyes hooded, head turned back. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Yes! Ohhhh uhhh yes oh god yes!” she whimpered. “Ohma uhhh hanh uhhh Oh Kisan! Uhhh hanh uhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Take it!” he responded gutturally. “Lele, Kuntal ... lele!”

Suddenly, she stopped, lifted herself off his cock with a low groan and snaked down his hard body, kissing and licking him, rubbing her breasts wantonly against him, going lower. With a shuddering moan, she opened her mouth and engulfed his penis, sucking it eagerly, hungrily, her tongue working his cock-head cunningly. It was so unexpected he almost came. He gasped and arched, his hands on her head which rocked up and down over his lap. Her face and hair were soft and silky smooth between his thighs. He craned his head, watching her as she sucked his cock, caressing her face with it, moving it between her breasts, rubbing her nipples across the sticky cock-head. He pushed her head back to his cock and she groaned deep in her cock-filled throat, her hands on her breasts, sucking her servant’s cock avidly.

“Yes ... ohhh fuck yes! Suck it, baby ... suck my cock!” he groaned. “Choos! Choos mere lavde ko!” and then, without realizing it, without knowing, he called again, “Chul, rundi, chul ... jorse choos ... c’mon whore ... suck harder!” His words thrilled her and she moaned loudly, sucking harder and he realized the effect of his words and exulted in joy. “Hanh ... aise ... chul, rahnd ... aur jorse!” he repeated.

He stopped her after several minutes and rolled away, getting to his knees, turning her body around before his, her back and buttocks to him. Kuntal groaned, kneeling before her servant on her forearms and knees, her buttocks thrust back at him. She turned her face, reached down under her belly, clawed her cunt-lips open.

“Fuck me, Kisan,” she groaned. “Chodh mujhe ... jorse chodh! Fuck me hard!”

Panting and gasping, the servant quickly squeezed his cock into her cunt. Gripping her buttocks, he flexed his buttocks, drove himself greedily into her flesh. Kuntal cried out, her body lurching forward under his thrust, her body falling forward, shoulders hunching, head jerking up.

“Ohmauuhhhhhh ahhhhh uhh hanh uhhhhhh Ohmauh Kisan! Ohhh uhhhhh hanh uhhhhh ahhhhhh yes! Oh god yes! Fuck me!”

“Hanh! Lele, rundi, lele!” the servant exulted. “Take my cock! Oh fuck yes! Take it all!”

He began fucking her rapidly, holding her hips and jerking her body to and fro before his, dragging her cunt back and forth along the length of his penis. Her breasts jiggled and bounced with his thrusts, her gold necklace dancing and bouncing against her chin.

“Yes! Oh yes! Oh yes oh god yes oh uh OHH uh OHHH uh OHHH uhh OHMA uhh hanh uhh ohma uh ohma uh ohmauh hanh uhhhh OHHHH!” she called, her head craned, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her body jerking and rocking rapidly back and forth with his piercing, skewering thrusts. “OHHHH uhhh ohhhhhh uhhhh OHHHH!”

The servant gasped and panted, his loins blazing with lust. Her cunt was incredible on his cock. He moved faster, his hips slapping loudly at her buttocks, his balls bouncing off her cunt-lips, his cock grinding and pistoning rapidly in and out of her cunt, glistening and gleaming with their coital juices, appearing and disappearing between the creamy curves of her buttocks. Beneath him, his teenage memsahib mewed and whimpered and thrashed like a whore, calling obscenely. She felt delirious with joy — he had turned out to be a magnificent lover. Her lust was uncontainable and the heat grew and spread from her cunt to breast-tips and then it exploded and she gasped, her cunt going into frenzied convulsions on his penis as the orgasm swamped her. Behind her, the servant cried out as her cunt cramped savagely on his throbbing penis. He flung his head back and slammed his hips forward, driving his cock deep into her, making her cry out sharply. Once, twice, three, four, five, six times he rammed himself into her and then he could not contain himself. Plunging in, his hips twitching, buttocks flexed taut, he groaned loudly as he emptied himself into her body. Beneath him, Kuntal moaned her joy as she felt the sharp sting of his warm, sticky jizz spurting and spurting and spurting into her cunt, crawling in a sticky flood down her trembling thighs.

They lay in bed, panting and gasping, their bodies tacky with sex-sweat. She smiled as he rolled over on top of her, kissing her tenderly.

“Take me again?” she murmured, caressing his body. “I really liked it.”

He smiled. “You’re wonderful,” he said.

“Really? You mean that? You’re not saying it only to flatter me?”

He shook his head, eyes twinkling. “Every word is true, Kuntal,” he murmured. “I couldn’t get enough of fucking you.”

She giggled. “No reason why you should,” she said. “No reason at all.”

III

“GET ME A COLD DRINK PLEASE,” Mamta told Kisan. “I’m thirsty. Hurry up!”

Kisan sighed. This one was so unlike her elder sister. Where Mamta was aggressive, hard, tough, demanding, Kuntal shared, loved, gave. Mamta just took and took and took. Everything about her was different, her manner, her mien, her whole approach.

She was as pretty, but in a different, sharper, more angular kind of way. She didn’t have her elder’s sister soft voluptuousness, the gentle looks that made a man want to just look, caress, then drown himself in the enveloping warmth of her flesh. Mamta wore her sexuality out on her sleeve, flaunting herself, daring a man to take her. She was slimmer, her body leaner, tougher. Her limbs were long and slender, her belly totally flat, her breasts high and sloping and firm.

Her features were finer, too, but they gave her a harder, not more delicate look. Her jaw was exquisitely sculpted, her nose was slim and straight and her lips were slender and wide. She had her sister’s dark eyes and lustrous sweeping hair. But that was about it. They couldn’t have been more different.

When he returned to the hall a few minutes later, she was just stepping out of her bedroom, her face freshly rinsed. He almost dropped the tray with the tall glass of lemonade on it when he saw her bend slightly, lift the end of her button-down shirt and wipe her face with it. He saw her belly, saw how low she wore her jeans, well under her navel, saw, too, a flash of the swell of her breasts. The shirt was short and she had it held by just one middle button, the ones above and below undone. It was cut to shape, accentuating the curves of her breasts, the nipped in waist, the flare of her hips. She pretended not to notice as she took the glass from him and flung herself onto the sofa.

“Massage my shoulders, please,” she commanded. “They ache terribly.”

Kisan put the tray aside and stood behind her. Gingerly, gently, he put his hands on her shoulders.

“Oh come on, you can do better than that. Harder, damn it,” she muttered. And then, as he dug his fingers into her flesh. “Mm ... that’s good ... ahh yes ...”

Kisan massaged her slender shoulders, kneading the soft flesh in his strong fingers. She tilted her head forward and brushed her head off the nape of her neck. The gold necklace twinkled on her skin. He wanted to press his lips to her flesh. Mamta sighed and learned back, tilting her head over the back of the sofa. The top of her forehead almost touched his crotch. She spread her arms along the backrest of the sofa. Her eyes were closed.

“Now do my arms,” she murmured. “Mm, that’s good. Higher. Yes. Here,” she pointed to the front of her shoulders, just above her breasts.

Kisan quickened in excitement. He pressed his fingers into her flesh. She writhed under his touch, murmuring pleasure.

“Lower,” she said, her voice very soft now. “Lower.” Nervously, he slid his fingers lower, over the tops of her breasts. Her eyes still closed, she pulled open the lapels of her shirt, showing him the swell of her breasts. “Mm, that’s good,” she sighed. He could see the stiff points of her nipples. “Lower,” she murmured. “Put your hands inside.”

Kisan took a deep breath and slipped his hands into her shirt. Her breasts filled his palms. He squeezed and felt her breasts swelling and hardening, her nipples jumping erect under her shirt. Languorously, she arched her back, pushing her breasts up into his hands. He pinched her nipples delicately.

“Yeh baby ... that’s good,” she murmured, her eyes closed, a small smile on her lovely lips. “Do it again ... ahhh yes ... again ... harder ... mm, oh that’s nice.”

Still with her eyes closed, she plucked open the button of her shirt, pulling it wide, finally exposing her swollen breasts to his view. They were perfect, round and high and firm, the aureoles dainty and puckered with excitement, her nipples shuddering with excitement. Kisan fondled her breasts hungrily. His penis throbbed in his pants. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Mamta flushed with the excitement of the chase. She loved playing the cock-tease, keeping her men on tenterhooks, leading them on, keeping them guessing. Now she arched her back and tilted her head steeply over the sofa so that her mouth was under his crotch, her breasts thrust up and out. Reaching under her belly, she snapped open the clasp of her shorts and slowly pulled down the fly. The shorts peeled open. She heard the intake of his breath when he saw the darkness of her cunt-fuzz. She pressed her hands into her crotch, began to rub her clit with a fingertip. Without opening her eyes, she twitched her hips up and shucked her shorts down her hips, kicked them away. Except for the shirt open and hanging on the edge of her shoulders, she was naked now. She spread her legs wide, lifting her heels to the edge of the low coffee table before her and began masturbating slowly. Her hips writhed gently. Kisan swore under his breath, massaging her breasts in mounting excitement. Mamta opened her lips under his crotch and he gasped at the warmth of her mouth on his cock-head through his trousers. Lifting an arm, she fumbled behind her head for his fly, found it, pulled down the zipper. His cock sprang out, thick and long and hard.

“Mm ... yes ... that’s a good cock,” she murmured. “I do like my men to be well hung.”

She took his penis in her fist, deftly pushing back his foreskin and then took his cock in her soft, warm, moist mouth, her face hanging upside down under him. Kisan gasped loudly, his hands clenching her breasts. She worked his tongue with her cock.

“Do you like that?” she murmured, her eyes flitting open.

“Yes ... god yes ... c’mon ... do it! Suck me!” he gasped. “Suck my cock! Choos mere lavde ko!”

“Yeh, that’s it motherfucker,” she growled. “Chul madarchuth ... aur bol! Say it again! Talk dirty to me! Fuck my mouth! C’mon!”

Instantly, she lifted both arms up to clench his hips and took his cock deeper into her mouth, sucking hard, working it with her pointed tongue. Kisan flung his head back and groaned, his balls aching, his cock throbbing. Her mouth was wonderful on his cock, a soft, warm, eager suction, her tongue snaking and winding over his cock-head with a knowing deftness that could only have come with experience.

“Choos, rundi, choos!” he gasped. “Jorse choos mere lavde ko! Suck, whore, suck! Suck my cock hard!”

His words seem to electrify her. She moaned, taking his cock deeper in her mouth, her finger arching into her slit, vibrating her clitoris, her hand jerking back and forth.

Slowly, she slipped his cock out of her mouth, a thin thread of pre-cum gunk bridging his cock-head and her lips, her tongue lapping at it lasciviously. She looked up at him, upside down, her eyes glittering. “Want to give me a tongue massage, stud?” she said, her tongue arching sexily over her upper lip. “You know how to eat pussy, don’t you? Chuth ko chatna aata hai na?”

Kisan quelled a surge of irritation. He came around the sofa and dropped to his knees before her, between her spread legs. She smiled wantonly down at him, but it was a wicked smile, supercilious, knowing, demanding. He spread her cunt-lips open in his fingers and pushed his face into her crotch. Her cunt was sodden, streaming with juices. She murmured softly, holding her head in one hand, the other on her breast, moving his head round and round in her slit.

“Yeh ... that’s good ... yeh ... like it baby ... like my wet slit ... c’mon, you pimp ... like my cunt! Chul bhadva! Chaat mere chuth ko! Fuck yes ... mm ... that’s good ... yeh ... just keep doing it, boy ... yeh ... OH fuck yes ... c’mon! Shove your finger in! Ahhhhhh yeh ... oh yeh that’s good!”

Kisan lapped at her sexily flowing juices, his finger twisting and probing in her cunt, his excitement mounting at her moans and love-calls. Her hips twitched and writhed under his face.

“Okay, enough,” she gasped, pushing his head back. “Stand up!”

Obediently, he got to his feet. Mamta levered herself forward and, taking his cock in both hands, took it in her mouth again. Kisan gasped, his hips lurching forward, a hand falling to her head. She sucked him hard, her teeth raking his shaft, her tongue swirling like magic over his cock-head, probing at the long slit in the tip as if to draw out the nectar within.

“Yeh! Oh fuck yes! Suck it, bitch!” he gasped. “Suck my cock! Ohhhh uhhh yes ... c’mon, whore ... chul ... chul rundi chul ... choos mere lavde ko!”

Mamta sucked the servant’s penis for several minutes, jerking his shaft in her fingers. Once in a while she arched her eyes up to him, watching the reactions on his face. She loved it when she turned these servant types into sweating, panting, hungry animals. The sex was better then, harder and fiercer.

She stopped, leaning back, a mocking smile on her lips. “Well, you can certainly lick slit,” she said. “And you’re cock’s good and you haven’t creamed in my face yet ... not that I’d mind, but still. Now let’s see how good you are, stud. C’mon ... fuck me stud!”

She leaned back, slid down on the seat of the sofa so that her hips were at the edge, her chin resting on her chest. Spreading her legs, she lifted them, her hands under her knees, raising her crotch to him. Her cunt was wide open for him.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she muttered, staring hungrily at his throbbing cock as he shuffled forward, bending over her, pushing his cock down to her cunt. “Put it in, put it in, put it in!”

Kisan leaned one outstretched arm on the back of the sofa and pressed his cock-head to her cunt-lips. It widened and seemed to suck him in like a flytrap. He gasped as her cunt-lips encased his cock-head. She gripped his hips, her legs apart, raised, heels in the air, trembling, pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck me!” she called, arching. “C’mon, you motherfucking bastard! Fuck me! I want it!”

Kisan put his hands under her thighs, pushed them up and back and, flexing his buttocks, rammed his cock down into her. The breath tore from her throat in a loud, rattling cry. Her head snapped up, her face contorting with lust, eyes screwed up, mouth wide open, long neck craned.

“OHHHHHHHHHHH YES OH FUCK YES OHHHHHHHH UHHH YES OH FUCK OH FUCK YES!” she shrieked. “Fuck me! Ohhhhhh yes fuck me, Kisan! Fuck me!”

Grunting, gritting his teeth, Kisan began fucking her with deep, punishing thrusts, rocking his hips steeply to and fro, his buttocks flexing and unflexing. His cock pistoned in and out of her cunt, glistening and gleaming with their juices. Her cunt convulsed on his penis and he pushed her legs back further still, piercing her cunt even more deeply. Her body rocked up on the small of her back with each thrust.

“Yeh! Take it! C’mon, whore! Take my cock!” he grunted, slamming his hips to and fro, plunging his cock in and out of her cunt. “Chul rundi! Lele! Le mere lavde ko!”

Mamta dug her hands into his thick forearms, her hips heaving and jerking under his, her head whipping from side to side. Her cries were loud and lewd. The fires raged in her groin. His cock was terrific, huge, hot, thick, hard and utterly remorseless. For several minutes, she let herself go, enjoying the crashing waves of pleasure as they rocked her body.

“Yeh ohhh fuck yes, c’mon, sisterfucker, bahenchuth chodh mujhe ... fuck me!” she cried. “Oh yeh ... do it!”

He grinned down at her, letting her legs go and leaning with outstretched arms on the back of the sofa. She held her legs open for him. His thrusts had a controlled, easy rhythm now and he was clearly dominating the action. He plunged his cock in and out of her cunt, rocking his hips to and fro.

“Like it, bitch?” he chuckled. “Like being stuffed by my cock? Goddamned bitch, really got the hots for us servant types, eh? Like feeling a servant cock in your slit, doncha?”

Mamta spat fire, her eyes blazing. How dare he? He was a servant. She could have him any way she wanted, he had no business trying to subjugate her like this. She was in the driver’s seat, not he. He was the damned servant. She took a breath. She knew how to deal with the likes of him. She’d had enough of them.

She made him stop, pushed him away, came off the sofa quickly. He stood, perplexed, unsure of what she wanted and she grinned at him, moved him around to the side of the long, narrow, glass-topped coffee table before the sofa, pushed him down on his back on it, his hips at the edge. Grinning at him, she swung a long, slender leg over his hips, straddling him in a deep squat, her feet on the floor, her knees steeply bent, her thighs spread wide. Her cunt brushed his upright cock. She leaned forward, one hand on the glass beside him and, reaching down between their bodies, took his cock in one hand, moving it to her cunt-lips. Kisan stared up at her, watching the suffusion of lust on her lovely face.

“Let’s play,” she breathed and slipped her cunt-lips down around just the tip of his cock.

Kisan gasped, his hips lurching up involuntarily, but she held him down, deftly moving her hips so that no more of his cock went into her.

“Down boy!” she commanded. “Stay!” Her grin widened. She released his cock and, leaning forward from the waist, began to gyrate her hips slowly round and round. Kisan gasped. It was an incredible feeling, her hot cunt-lips swirling over his cock-head, her stiff clitoris rippling over the frenum. “Yeh ... that’s it ... like it, stud?” she smiled, wanton and lascivious. “Never had a fuck like this, right? Just wait, stud ... I’m gonna give you something you’ll never forget!”

She was incredible. Kisan hadn’t experienced anything like this. She straightened her body now, moving her hips deftly, swirling them round and round and now as she came around, she snapped them smartly so that his cock arched and curved into her cunt, mashing her clitoris. The pleasure was mutual and incredibly intense. She slid her hands up her body, cupping her breasts, moved them up, twisted her hair into a loose knot behind her head.

“Mmm ... ohh yeh ... that’s good, baby,” she hissed, her hands spreadeagled on her body, over her breasts. “Oh yes that’s good ... want more?” He nodded dumbly and she laughed. “Thought you’d say that,” she grinned. “You all do.”

Her hips began sinking and he groaned as she engulfed his penis in the heat of her cunt, inch by inch, taking him in deeper and deeper, her cunt and hips still grinding and spiralling and gyrating over his lap.

“Ohhhhhh baby yes!” she cried out at last, arching her body, flinging her head back as her cunt sank down the length of his cock, taking it fully inside her. “Ohhhhh uhhh yes!”

Kisan slid his hands up her body, cupping her swollen breasts, pinching and tweaking her long rigid nipples. She moaned, her hips writhing on his lap, her cunt contracting and relaxing alternately, deftly.

“Oh baby yes!” she whimpered. “Oh god yes!”

She started riding him, gasping and mewing her pleasure, her hips rising and falling steeply, her knees bending, straightening, bending. Her cunt raked up and down the length of his shaft, rising up, plunging down with a wicked spiralling thrust, twirling up, grinding down. Kisan groaned in lust, his balls on fire, his hands on her hips, moving her up and down on his cock.

“Yeh! Take it! C’mon, whore, take it!” he grunted.

“Yes!” she moaned. “Oh god yes! Fuck me, Kisan! Fuck me like a whore! Rundi ki tarah chodh! Yes ... oh god you’re cock’s so good in my slit! Fuck me, baby! Fuck me hard!”

“Ride it, slut!” he rasped. “Dance on my prick! Naach mere lavde pe! Chul, rundi, chul! Lele mere lavde ko!”

His words inflamed her and she began moving faster and now he moved with her, rocking his hips up and down under her. Her body bounced and tossed on his lap, her breasts bouncing, the gold necklace tossing on her creamy skin. She leaned forward, gasping and panting, moving her cunt up and down the length of his cock-shaft, her head flung back, mouth open, her voice hoarse and ragged with excitement. Her orgasm loomed and she began to moan, long and low, whimpering. He sensed it, and timed it to perfection, waiting till she was on the brink then suddenly jerking her down hard on his cock, making her cry out, striking her breasts rapidly, repeatedly with the back of his hand. She winced and moaned, gasped sharply.

“Off,” he grunted. “On the sofa! I wanna fuck you like a bitch, from behind!”

Mamta groaned, lurched away from the servant, moving to the sofa on her knees and forearms, her hands on the armrest. She flung her hair over her shoulder, turned her face to his.

“Fuck me,” she groaned. “Please Kisan ... fuck me hard! Chodh mujhe, Kisan ... please ... jorse chodh!”

There was no trace of the anger now, just the fire of her lust. He grinned, knowing he had succeeded in their little contest. He got behind her on one knee, the other leg straight, foot on the floor and pressed his cock-head between her buttocks. She moaned, writhing against him.

With a soft grunt, he squeezed his cock-head into her cunt. It popped in and she moaned, biting her lower lip. He flexed his buttocks and slowly pushed his cock in deeper and deeper. Beneath him, Mamta whimpered her joy as the servant’s cock plowed into her flesh, driving a huge wave of pleasure before it. In and in he went and then he started fucking her, unhurriedly and rhythmically, his fingertips steepled in the small of her back, rocking her body to and fro under his. She moaned and gasped, rocking back and forth on all fours before the servant, a bitch in heat, her breasts jiggling and bouncing, her face turned up.

“Yes! Ohhhh uhhh yes oh god yes oh yes Kisan hanh uhhh ohma uhh hanh uhh chodh mujhe! Jorse chodh!” she cried. “OHHH uhhh OHHHH uhh OHH yes OHHHH uhhh fuck me! Fuck me! Ohhh yes!”

“Lele, rundi, lele!” he growled, moving faster and faster, slapping his hips and thighs at her buttocks, jerking her body to and fro before his, driving his cock deeply in and out of her cunt. “C’mon, take it! Chul! Lele! Le mere lavde ko, saali kutti rahnd! Lele!”

Faster and faster he went and her cries rose, splitting the air. His cock sawed in and out of her cunt. He flung his head back, moaning and gasping. She came violently and the savage cramping of her cunt on his cock was too much for him to bear and he cried out, plunging into her and exploding, making her gasp as the sharp shards of his jizz spumed into her cunt.

Panting, he slid out of her. She turned around under him, smiling wantonly at him.

“Fuck, you’re good,” she murmured. “I want more.”

The servant grinned and bent his head to kiss her, his hands on her breasts. She murmured under him.

“C’mon, Kisan ... fuck me again,” she said, her tongue sweeping through his ear. “Fuck me like you fuck my sister.”

IV

KUNTAL SMILED TENDERLY, her lovely face softly radiant with deep pleasure. She ran her fingertips gently across Kisan’s wide, deep chest, exploring its contours, raking her fingernails over his sharp, dark nipples, slowly drawing her hands down along his V-shaped torso to his lean hips. He bent over her, smiling, holding her, his hands on her swollen breasts. She really was incredibly lovely.

And, he was now sure, a much better person to have sex with than her hard sister. Certainly Mamta could fuck; she exhausted him. But with her it was always with a hard biting edge, not with the exhilarating pleasure and joy Kuntal gave.

“Mm ... oh that’s good,” she murmured. “God, I love your body so much!”

It really was wonderful, the servant’s body, hard and lean and muscular, not an ounce of fat on him. Kuntal loved his musky smell, the way he moved, the way she could feel his strong muscles rippling under his tautly stretched skin. And he was so good with her, taking his time, doing it easily and smoothly and slowly, savouring each moment, just the way she liked it. She loved feeling his big, thick cock slowly squeezing into her cunt, crushing her inflamed, quivering clitoris in its passage, tunnelling in, drawing out, going back in again. Each slow, skewering thrust drove a wave of pleasure through her, one that made her groan thickly and rock up onto the small of her back, thrusting her hips up to meet his in descent. He bent his head to her breasts, his rough tongue lapping at her hard nipples and she whimpered, her fingers twining in his hair.

“Yes! Ohhh yes Kisan, yes!” she groaned. “Fuck me! Fuck me, lover! Just don’t stop! Ohhh yes ... ohma uhhh hanh uhhh yes oh god yes!”

The servant moved his hips rhythmically, easily, letting them rise and fall, rise and fall, stroking smoothly and powerfully in and out of the teenager’s cunt. She filled his senses, her smooth, glowing skin, her soft perfume, the tender perfection of her face. He couldn’t stop looking at her, the way her large dark brown eyes glistened with pleasure, the full lips parted in a sexy O.

“Yes,” he groaned, rising up on his arms again, slowly picking up the tempo. “God, yes! Take it! Take my cock, Kuntal! Le mere lavde ko!”

And, later, lying back, he groaned thickly, his hands on her head, his neck craned, watching her as she sucked his penis slowly, lasciviously. She whimpered her pleasure at having his cock fill her mouth, dragging her tongue round and round his swollen cock-head, taking him deep in her mouth, sucking hard, whipping his cock-head with her tongue, raking her teeth along his shaft. Kuntal loved sucking cock, tasting her lover’s seed, even swallowing it and Kisan had the stamina to let her take her pleasure. Whimpering, she stroked her face with his penis, rising up to take it between her pendulous breasts, rubbing the sticky cock-head over her nipples and in her cleavage.

“Oh god, I love your cock,” she murmured and the words, even more obscene in the vernacular, sent a ripple of electric excitement through him. He pushed her head back to his groin.

“Suck, slut!” he rasped, knowing that she liked the rough language. “Choos, rundi! Choos mere lund ko! Jorse choos! Hanh ... aise! That’s it, yes ... suck harder!”

He rocked her head up and down over his lap, pumping his hips as he fucked her face.

“Please ... cum in my mouth?” she murmured, jerking his cock in her fist. “I want to drink your cum.”

He grinned, shook his head. “Not yet, Kuntal. Not yet. Later.”

She smiled happily. “Okay. Shall I suck you some more?”

“No. Get on top. Sit on my cock.”

Kuntal slithered up her servant’s body, kissing and licking him wantonly, sucking on his nipples, her hips over his. Her breasts were hot and heavy on his chest. She rose on her arms and knees and, reaching down, she moved his cock to her cunt-lips and quickly took him deep into her flesh. He gasped softly, his hips lurching up under her. She arched her head and moaned. He watched the suffusion of lust on her face and slid his hands up her body to her breasts, squeezing them, pinching and tweaking her rigid nipples. Her cunt tightened on his penis.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh god yes!” Her hips began to move, grinding, gyrating, moving slowly up and down and she leaned over him, her breasts pendulous over his face, her gold necklace swinging against his chin. “Fuck me,” she gasped. “Fuck me, Kisan, fuck me hard!”

Beneath her, the servant gasped at the wet heat of her cunt engulfing him, squeezing tight, drawing him deeper and deeper into the whirlpool of her passion.