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Young Indian Librarian loses sari and dignity with four men.
If a man is condemned only for looking at a woman with lust, I had certainly already committed the sin, so I might the hell as well really stick it in her. If God knows my heart, then he's certainly already seen me play this scene out a hundred times in my mind. I don't see how acting on my lust would make it any more a sin.
When she realized what I had done, she squeezed my arm tightly and began pulling harder at my neck with her mouth. Her hand pressed into my chest, and slid heavily down to my pants. She pulled her face away form my neck and began to slide my belt through the buckle. She undid the button on my slacks and pulled down the zipper, pushing the fly to the side as my cock stood up eagerly. She slid her soft, cool hand around my shaft in a ring and began pumping up and down. I moaned, and she stretched her head toward mine and licked me once hard from my collar bone to the corner of my jaw. Then she leaned over and touched her tongue lightly to my tip. I could feel the rough fabric of her veil against my shaft, and it tickled the skin across my hips every time she lowered her head to take more of my cock in her mouth. When she came to the top again she swirled her tongue around the tip, and then lowered her head, taking me in her mouth almost to the hilt. I came violently in no time, as I had not experienced that gut-wrenching sensation since the last time her mouth was on me. Except I didn't realize that this was the same woman. This woman was some beautiful enigma. Some speechless siren. Some phantasm, some she-devil sent to drag me down to hell. As my cum filled her mouth, I felt more than willing to go. No kicking and screaming necessary.
I pulled into my driveway, closing my fly over my now only semi-hard dick. She opened her door and stepped out of the car as she had just stepped off of a cloud. She bore herself so well. Her shoulders straight and strong, her back tapering down to her waist and then swelling back out into her hips. I paused, watching her through her open door, until she closed it behind her. She headed up the front walk without even looking back at me, without waiting for me at all. I jogged a little to catch up to her and laid my hand on her hip, sliding it over her ass, walking next to her, lost in the tick tock of her steps.
I unlocked the door and stood aside to let her in. She came to a stop in the middle of the living room, her head pointed in the direction of a framed picture of my family. My father's face made my heart ache with guilt. How could I do the things I so desperately wanted to do to her in his house, saturated as it was with the memory of him, burdened as I was the by the example of his guiltless life. My eyes dropped to the back of her head, following the cascade of thick hair down to her waist, the came to rest on the alluring swell of her hips, and the tension between my desire for her and my awareness that I had long ago surrendered my cock over to the Lord nearly reduced me to tears.
"Fuck it," I murmured under my breath as I moved toward her laying my hands on her hips and lowering my mouth to the muscular ridge where her shoulder sloped up into her neck. She inhaled sharply and her hand came up to my hair, her fingers twisting and pulling. Fuck it, I thought to myself. Fuck holiness, fuck purity, fuck commitments, fuck forgiveness, fuck eternity. Honestly, at that moment, with the taste of her skin on my tongue, I felt that I would gladly burn forever just to hear her heaving breath, just to watch it move that veil, just to feel her snatch tighten around me. She began to grind her ass into my crotch, circling her tight, taut flesh over my rapidly hardening dick. I slid my hand down one of her ass cheeks, squeezing hard. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right, just exactly how I imagined it.
"Go upstairs," I whispered in her ear.