Mark looked at the ceiling. He was getting agitated. No point checking his watch, or his phone, or straightening his tie, or fiddling with his cuffs; it wouldn’t make any difference, wouldn’t alter the one single fact: he was going to be late.
He tried to stay calm by reminding himself that this was an occupational hazard, that, if you do business around the world, you are going to encounter delays. It doesn’t matter how well you prepare or how important the meeting, something unexpected is always likely to insert itself into your meticulously planned schedule.
He looked again at the concierge, deeply engaged in what Mark felt sure must be an utterly futile conversation with an elderly couple. Probably discussing whether the temperature outside was slightly more blistering than yesterday, or maybe the wind had changed direction so that didn’t matter. Why wasn’t the concierge screaming down the phone for Mr Carpenter’s taxi?! Couldn’t he just – politely – tell the oldies to buzz off and get on with helping a guest who had a serious, essential need to be out of the hotel and into the crazy Mumbai traffic if he was to have any chance of making the meeting at all?
The concierge’s phone rang. He managed to effortlessly keep talking to the couple while listening to the phone. Then, still focused on the people in front of him, he nodded to a bellhop, spoke a few tense words, and continued with the couple.
Mark felt his pulse drop slightly as the bellhop walked towards him, and was already standing and picking up his briefcase when he was told that his taxi was outside.
It was a faster walk than usual that took Mark through the sliding glass doors and out into the intense heat of a Mumbai morning. He often doubted whether aircon was such a good idea, given that at some point you always had to leave it.
Whatever, there was the cab, and a feint prospect of making the meeting at something approximating to the right time. Mark was almost at the door when, out of nowhere (or so it seemed, but Mark had been so focused on his ride that he hadn’t had eyes for anything else) a woman walked in front of him and climbed in.
Mark felt his temperature soar. He pulled the taxi door open. “Hey, this is my cab!” he shouted, his face contorted with stress and rage.
The woman looked startled, perhaps a little frightened, at the sudden intrusion. Despite his fury Mark took in the fact that she was Indian, probably in her late twenties, with a fine face and sweet pouting lips. Elegant and regal in a way that only some young Indian women can be.
“No it isn’t,” she replied simply.
“It is! I just got called by the concierge.” Mark looked angrily at the driver. “Taxi for Carpenter, right?” The driver just shrugged. Typical.
“Well I got here first,” the young woman said. Her accent was well-educated – a mix of old-school British, American business school and the “Indian” accent that – to Mark – always sounded a bit Welsh. (He was sure he’d read that it was something to do with Welsh missionaries…) “And I have to get to VT by noon.”
Mark’s initial reaction was to tell her he didn’t care, that he had an important meeting in just a few minutes, and that, whatever plans the woman had, didn’t make any difference, particularly as it was *his* cab.
But something about the way the woman’s lips were slightly parted, as if she wasn’t finally convinced of the rights and wrongs of the situation, persuaded him that she wasn’t just another spoilt Mumbai yuppie jumping the queue. Something about her lips, definitely…
He took a deep, deep breath, reining himself in. “You know what, it’s fine. You take the cab.” He hoped he didn’t sound bitter, and even tried to smile. “Be my guest.”
The woman smiled, a mixture of relief and – it seemed – genuine gratitude. “Oh, thank-you. You’re a gentleman.”
Mark shut the taxi door, and watched it pull into the frenetic traffic. Less than a minute later, another cab pulled up, which Mark managed to secure for himself. Gallantry, it seemed, didn’t always carry a heavy price.
+++
Mark wasn’t in the habit of frequenting hotel bars on his own; it had always seemed a lonely thing to do. But the meeting had gone better than expected – the clients had been late too, so no problems there – and he felt like winding down somewhere other than his room. Certainly, the Johnny Walker tasted good as it burned the back of his throat.
He was half-checking emails, half-observing the comings and goings, when he saw the woman from this morning walk past the edge of the bar. She had a lovely slow athletic pace, unhurried but powerful. Seeing her fully for the first time, Mark realised that it wasn’t just her lips that were very attractive.
Almost without realising he was doing it, Mark got to his feet and hurried after her. “Hey!”
She turned, and seeing it was him her face again took on that slightly startled, slightly anxious look. “Hello.”
Mark stumbled over his words, desperate to persuade her as quickly as possible that he wasn’t intending to reopen the argument over the cab. “Listen, I just want to apologise for this morning, I’m sorry I was so aggressive.”
The woman smiled, dazzling white teeth in that stunning coffee-brown face. “Oh, okay.” She looked a little sheepish, another sign that this was no spoilt princess. “Actually I think maybe it *was* your cab…”
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have got so worked up. Sorry.”
“Thank you. I guess now I know you really are a gentleman.” She turned to go.
Mark never picked up women in hotel bars. There were many reasons for that, not least the chance that they were there “professionally”. But…
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked. “To assuage my conscience.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Let me get *you* a drink. We may both be guilty, but I feel mine was the initial sin.” Mark was taken aback by her confidence, but the effect was simply to amplify her attractiveness. “I’m Kriti,” she said, offering him her hand.
+++
Mark had a delightful, if confusing, hour with Kriti in the bar. She appeared very assured, but sometimes also vulnerable.
He understood that a substantial part of his confusion was down to his own preconceptions. The reality of his “global” business dealings was that he spent all his time in identical hotels and identical offices, meeting identical businessmen (they were always men). So whatever he knew about young Indian women like Kriti was based on…well, what? Some vague notion that they were either rich and arrogant, and therefore utterly uninterested in a mid-level exec like Mark, or quiet submissive stay-at-homes, happy only with domestic chores. Mark would have struggled to identify one source for these ideas, but wherever they came from, by the end of the hour none of them applied to Kriti.
Not that he could pretend, as he headed back to his room, that he had even begun to understand her.
“So, Mark, you often try to pick up women in hotel bars?” she’d asked him, a teasing smile on her lips.
“No, no! I…I wanted to apologise, that’s all.”
“I see. So perhaps you buy a drink for everyone you apologise to?” The smile still teased.
“No, obviously not. I mean I don’t have to apologise that often…”
“Sure you don’t. British are always in the right! We learned that very well in India!”
“No, not at all.” Was he meant to apologise for the Raj? Or was she still just teasing? “It was just…I felt particularly bad that I got so angry with a young woman.”
“So if I was a granny, you wouldn’t have asked to buy me a drink?” Kriti held her gin and tonic lightly between her fingertips.
As she took a sip, Mark envied the glass. Those lips – not full or lascivious, but perfectly sculpted, fine, inviting… But just how *honest* could he be? With a girl in London the flirting – if that was what it was – would have been easy to follow. But Mark felt thousands of miles from home in more than just the literal sense. “I offered you a drink because I was sorry, and because I wanted to have a drink with you.”
“That’s circular, no? You wanted a drink with me because you wanted a drink with me?” Kriti sat back, waiting. Mark felt as if he was being tested, and it wasn’t a test he felt at all well prepared for.
“Okay. I wanted a drink with you, because…I thought you would be an interesting person to spend some time with.”
“Interesting? Why?”
Because you’re gorgeous, and fascinating, and complicated, he thought. “Maybe because I thought you’d be the kind of person who asked me difficult questions like that?” Kriti laughed. Good. Mark needed to regain the initiative if he wasn’t to spend their whole time together fending off her mocking probes. “Why did you agree?” he asked.
“Ooh.” Kriti took another sip of g and t. “Because you’re a gentleman, which isn’t so common in this city. And because I knew it was your taxi when I took it.” She gave a look of mock shame. “I felt so naughty,” she breathed, and Mark felt his attraction for her increasing.
“You *were* naughty,” he said quietly, hoping he wasn’t fatally misreading the signals. “But you’re definitely forgiven.”
“You forgive me so lightly?” Kriti put on a face of mock disappointment. “When I’ve been so bad…?”
Mark’s confusion reached new levels of bubbling uncertainty. How far did she want him to go? Was she naïve, or mocking, or flirting outrageously? He felt himself blush, and he saw on Kriti’s face that she had spotted it. “I don’t mind you being bad,” he said quietly. “I like you being bad.”
“But won’t I then get naughtier and naughtier?”
Mark was not the sort of man to stare at a woman’s chest, but out of his peripheral vision he was sure that he could see Kriti’s nipples poking stiffly at her blouse.
“You can be as naughty as you want,” he said.
“But if you want me to be naughty, doesn’t that make you naughty too?”
It was one of those indefinable moments. To anyone looking at them, they would have appeared to be a man and a woman chatting in a hotel bar. But, to Mark, the air now seemed absolutely full with expectant electricity.
“I think I’m fine with us both being naughty people, Kriti.”
She smiled, a dazzling coquettish grin. Mark wanted to kiss her there and then, but stayed rooted to his chair.
“I have to go, I’m afraid,” she said, standing. “I’m already late, and who knows if I’ll get a cab?” She smiled again, this time wickedly. “How long are you here for?”
Mark felt desperate, the whole evening slipping away from him.
“I fly out first thing tomorrow.”
“Oh.” It was Kriti’s turn to look disappointed. “Will you be returning to Mumbai soon?”
“I should have another meeting within the month.”
“Good.” She reached into her purse, and handed him a business card. “You can always call me up when you’re next here.” It was surprisingly non-committal, and Mark wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or offended. Did she think that he’d been trying for a last-minute business trip screw?
“I will,” he said. “I definitely will.”
+++
Mark never slept well before early morning flights, but this time it was even worse. Lying on the hotel bed, his mind repeatedly went over the evening. Had Kriti really been flirting? Was she nothing more than a tease? Or was it innocence? He thought he knew the answer, but he was a long way from sure.
Eventually, he gave up on the thought of sleep, and browsed the hotel film selection. Not fancying a blockbuster, Mark browsed the Classics section, and settled on a 1980s film called Heat and Dust. Although it was a rather wonderful film, he realised it wasn’t the happiest selection, depicting as it did – with considerable eroticism – a romance between a young Englishwoman and an Indian prince in the 1920s.
+++
It took two days for Kriti to respond to Mark’s email. Two desperately long days when he thought that he had spectacularly misread everything, and that a spark that to him had seemed wondrously promising had been nothing more than a flitting firefly.
On the flight back, sat comfortably in Business Class, Mark had gone over every second of his conversation with Kriti, and stared repeatedly at the card she had given him. It was the one tangible sign of their relationship, and however much it meant to Mark, he knew that it didn’t amount to a stable bedrock for anything.
But the business card had given him Kriti’s email, and, taking advantage of the plane’s wifi, he had sent her an enthusiastic if restrained message.
Settling back into work in London, he’d waited, and waited. His private email had never seemed so empty.
Then, finally, Mark saw Kriti’s name in the sender list. He felt childishly happy, his heart pounding as he clicked on the message.
Whatever he’d hoped for, Kriti’s words were friendly, but polite. She was happy to hear from him, and yes she’d enjoyed the evening together too, and of course she’d like to see him if he came back to Mumbai. If? Did she doubt him? Or was she quietly letting him know that it wasn’t very important, and that if they did meet it would be another strange teasing evening?
But it was a reply, and almost as soon as he’d finished reading it Mark had sent off a response. Was he being too eager? It didn’t matter, because he couldn’t *not* contact her straight back. He hoped that, having just sent her message to him, she was still online and that she’d reply immediately. He felt strangely intimate with her, sitting in the café drinking a cappucino, staring at his phone. They could chat, straightaway, who knew for how long, and about what.
There was no immediate reply, and no matter how many times Mark swiped reload to check that he had a working connection, nothing came. He even sent an email to himself from his work account to check that everything was working properly. It was, and it was a simple inescapable fact that she hadn’t replied right away.
It took three days for Kriti to reply. She was apologetic, so busy with work and things, the tone friendly as before, but nothing that couldn’t have come from a work colleague.
Mark was a little slower replying this time, hoping not to appear too puppyish, and also wanting to craft his words more carefully. So, amongst other things, he told her that he hadn’t had any arguments over cabs, and that he hoped she hadn’t stolen any cabs either, and that if that was the case then neither of them were being naughty. It was her word, after all.
Kriti’s reply came the following morning. No, she hadn’t taken any cabs, perhaps it was just Mark that made her do naughty things…
He couldn’t wait, and immediately wrote back that she was probably right, they were good when they were apart but ended up being naughty when they were together.
Only minutes after clicking send, a new message from Kriti arrived: “But now we’re kindof together, so are we being naughty?”
Despite being sat at his office desk, Mark could feel his cock hardening in his suit trousers. Kriti’s meaning wasn’t certain, but he couldn’t entirely restrain himself in his reply. “Well I certainly feel very bad right now. Naughty Kriti, and when I’m at work!”
“How bad?”
“Really bad. As bad as I can.”
“Tell me.”
Did she truly want to know? Was he way off course? Mark’s cock was throbbing now, and it directed his words over any possible reservations his brain might have had. “I’m, well, so excited to be talking to you like this,” he wrote.
“Mmm, yeah, it *is* exciting, isn’t it? ;)” The mmm and the winking emoji seemed suggestive, but Mark still felt unsure of himself.
“It proves you’re naughty,” he wrote, “making me feel like this at work. Someone might see.”
“See what? ;)”
“You want me to tell you?”
“Yeah, sure, tell me!”
Mark took a deep breath. “Well, I can’t get up from my desk…;)” He’d never been a fan of emojis, but suddenly they seemed quite helpful.
There was an agonising wait. Then: “Oh, wow.”
Was that a good or a bad response? Had he just told a poor unsuspecting woman thousands of miles away that he had an erection, when all she’d wanted to hear was that he was blushing?
“Was I okay to write that?” he asked.
It seemed like he waited for ages. “Sure, that’s what I wanted you to tell me.”
“That you excite me? You turn me on?”
“Sure.”
“Is it good to know you turn me on?”
“Sure, Mark, but actually it makes me feel *bad* ???? to know I make you have to hide yourself from your colleagues.”
“You’re so naughty.”
“You make me feel naughty, Mark ;)”
“So, do you feel the same way?”
“The same way?”
“Naughty. Turned on.”
“Sure I’m turned on. Knowing you’re like that, what else would I be?”
Mark was so engrossed in his phone that he hadn’t noticed Ian Devlin, his boss, coming up to his desk.
“Hi, Mark.” Mark dropped his phone hurriedly on the desk, sure that every inch of his face and body betrayed what had been going on. “Time for a chat?” Ian nodded towards his office.
“Sure.” Mark wanted to at least “sign off” his chat with Kriti, but Ian wasn’t the kind of boss you could put off. “Right with you,” he said, reluctantly slipping the phone into his pocket.
+++
For the second time, the Mumbai deal was causing Mark to lose his temper, although this time for entirely different reasons than an argument at a taxi rank.
“Why on earth are you taking me off the deal, Ian?” he asked, trying not to sound pathetically desperate.
“Mumbai’s a done thing, Mark, your talents are wasted on it. Leave it to Sally. We need you on the Jeddah project right away.” Jeddah? Oh for Christ’s sake.
“There’s still some complex odds and ends. We could get tripped up.” Mark knew he sounded feeble.
“Your commitment is A1, Mark,” said Ian in an annoyingly patronising way, “but we have to deploy resources appropriately. I need you in Jeddah tomorrow, and be prepared for a long one. You know what the Saudis are like.”
+++
Back at his flat, packing, Mark sent an email to Kriti, apologising and explaining how he’d been interrupted. She didn’t reply, and again he wondered if she’d felt he was using her. Or even – though this seemed unlikely – if she was using him, teasing him to reveal himself without ever intending to offer any more.
+++
Jeddah was every bit the ball-buster that Mark had expected. Endless hours of negotiation, without even the prospect of a whisky at the end of the day to soothe Mark’s nerves.
Frazzling his mood even further was the ongoing absence of any contact from Kriti. He hadn’t wanted to tell her that, because of Jeddah, Mumbai was off, and when she hadn’t replied to two emails he’d begun to think that the whole thing had just been a game for her.
Then, unexpectedly, the Jeddah talks stalled. A prince was out of the country, and nothing more could be done until he returned. Mark had twenty-four hours to kill, and, with a blinding realisation, he knew exactly what he had to do.
“In Mumbai tomorrow evening,” he emailed. “Can we meet?!?”
The usual agonising wait. “I’m so busy at the moment, Mark. How long are you here?”
“Twenty-four hours :(” Bless those emojis.
“Oh. ???? We could have another drink, maybe for an hour. Okay?”
+++
My God, she’s beautiful, Mark thought. He realised he was, at the very least, hopelessly infatuated with Kriti, but even so, looking across at her, at those eyes, those lips, he honestly couldn’t think of a more ravishing woman.
At first the conversation had been stilted and awkward, the limited time and the suggestive nature of their last contact hanging over everything. But Kriti seemed to find security in her mocking teases, and this time Mark felt they were meant in the way he wanted them to be, the prickly defences of a vulnerable young woman rather than haughty barbs.
“You going to seal the deal, then?” she asked.
For a moment Mark wondered if she meant with her. “Oh, yeah.” Maybe she would have found it indescribably romantic that he had flown to Mumbai just for a drink with her, but Mark had taken the cowardly route and persisted with the idea of a business trip. “Mumbai feels like a place of unfinished business at the moment.”
Mark could see Kriti’s brown skin blushing. “Stop it, Mark, you’re being bad again.”
“We’re always bad together.”
“I know, but…I have to go soon. Is this the last trip?”
Flying from Jeddah was one thing, coming from London another. “Probably, for now.”
“Oh, so we really don’t have long.” Kriti looked genuinely disappointed, and although in a way Mark was pleased to see he could get that reaction from her, he felt powerfully that he didn’t want to cause any pain to her.
“Just a tiny bit of time to be naughty,” he said.
Kriti looked at him, her dark eyes glistening. “We could be a *bit* naughty,” she said.
Mark felt incredibly, powerfully aroused, even though he realised that the reality was that there was no time or opportunity for anything.
“I have a taxi arriving in five minutes,” Kriti said. “Rather than us having another fight over it,” she smiled, “let’s stand on the balcony together till it arrives.”
She reached for Mark’s hand as they walked through the bar, and Mark felt a wonderful surge of electricity at her touch. On the balcony they stopped, side by side, and Kriti rested her head on Mark’s shoulder. He slipped his arm around her waist; she felt slim, and tiny, but also magnificent and awesome.
Kriti sighed. “So, now I have to go. Goodbye, for now.”
“Bye.” Mark held her hands.
“Well aren’t you going to kiss me, you sweet English gentleman?”
Mark leant in, still – absurdly – unsure whether Kriti meant a peck on the cheek. But Kriti made sure that their lips locked, soft and tender, then increasingly passionate, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth in an expert way that both surprised Mark and aroused him enormously. Her breasts felt full and warm against his chest, and he felt sure she could feel the heat of his groin pressing against her.
There was the hoot of a car horn. Kriti pulled away. “That’s me,” she said simply, and walked away without turning back.
+++
On the flight back to Jeddah Mark pondered that, in one sense, he had flown all that way just for a kiss. And without any doubt, he knew that it had been worth it.
+++
The Jeddah negotiations dragged on for five long weeks, every moment that wasn’t taken up with discussions being used to revise and refine terms.
Mark didn’t trust the Saudi internet enough to say very much to Kriti, and although their emails were now frequent and close, they continued to feel frustratingly distant.
Worse, when Mark’s work in Saudi was done, and he’d hoped maybe to be able to fly again to Mumbai, Kriti was herself away for the night. There was nothing for Mark to do except fly back to London. His heart, however, was somewhere else.
+++
Having gone straight to the office from Heathrow, at the back of Mark’s mind was the opportunity at last to begin communicating openly with Kriti again. But he could never have expected the email that pinged into his Inbox only moments after he’d sat down at his desk.
“Just been to stay with my auntie. She thinks I’ve become very boring,” Kriti had written, “and that I should travel somewhere interesting. So I told her that London might be an interesting place for me to visit ???? and so she’s paid for my tickets ???? I arrive tomorrow morning ???? I know I haven’t given you much time, but sometimes she changes her mind, and anyway I thought it was a naughty thing for me to do giving you so little notice ???? Any chance you’ll be free for me at all?”
Tomorrow was Saturday. It didn’t matter if the whole company was meant to work that weekend, Mark was going to be free.
+++
Their kiss at the airport was passionate and electric, but inevitably constrained by the hundreds of people standing around under the stark airport lighting. Kriti was suitably impressed by Mark’s Range Rover, but the spacious inside meant that, though only inches apart, they were still somewhat distant.
It was only ten in the morning, and as their physical relationship was still at the very earliest stages Mark asked Kriti what she wanted to do for the rest of the day. “See London, silly, like I told auntie.”
Unable to face the London traffic separated from Kriti by the Range Rover’s transmission, Mark suggested an open-topped tour bus. She had nodded happily, almost childish in her excitement in seeing London.
They boarded the bus early, the top deck almost empty, and Mark and Kriti sat at the front of the bus, far from any other tourists. The London Transport-style seat for two had been designed to provide the maximum possible space for standing passengers, and the minimum possible space for people sitting. Pressed close to Kriti’s body, Mark wouldn’t have wished it any other way.
At first, they chatted about the sights, but, as the bus sat motionless on Park Lane, Mark whispered softly in Kriti’s ear. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I know. It’s so naughty, isn’t it?”
He put his arm around Kriti, feeling like a schoolboy on a first date, and she rested her head on his shoulder as she had on the Mumbai balcony.
“I think this is the naughtiest we’ve been,” he said. “So far…”
“Ooh, you’re being bad already, Mark.” She snuggled in closer.
“You make me bad, Kriti.”
“We’re always bad together.” She wriggled against him. “So are you being bad like you were in your office?”
It was certainly true that just this relatively innocent contact had made Mark’s cock stiff. “Would you like that?”
“Sure I’d like that. Well, are you?”
“Yes. I’m…bad.”
“Bad?”
Did she want him to say it, to whisper it in her ear? There couldn’t be anything worse than offending her just a few minutes into her trip. He whispered in her ear: “do you want me to tell you?”
“Sure I do. Tell me.”
“I’m excited, Kriti. You make me excited.”
Kriti pulled away, and for a moment Mark thought he’d got it all terribly wrong. “Oh Mark! You’re so coy! Stop teasing and tell me!”
“You make me hard, Kriti.” It felt incredible just saying those simple words, each and every one on its own completely innocent.
“How hard?”
“Incredibly hard.” Mark had jeans on, but he felt sure that if she wanted to Kriti could see the bulge.
“Uncomfortable hard?”
“Yeah.”
“I bet you want to let it out and be free.”
“God yeah.”
“Then what?”
“You could touch it, Kriti.”
“Mmm, yeah, you want me to touch it?”
“Yeah, Kriti, I want you to touch my cock.” It felt exciting, but no longer bold, as Mark finally realised that his baser feelings were at the very least matched by the beautiful young woman sitting next to him.
He wondered if she would actually do it, there and then, on the top of a tourist bus with other people sitting twenty feet away. Although there was an autumnal chill he knew that he was so aroused that no coolness of air temperature could defeat his erection.
In fact she moved her hand from her lap, and rested it lightly on his crotch. “Mmm, such a big hard cock. Such a bad boy with your cock all stiff for me.”
In turn, Mark moved his arm down from Kriti’s shoulder, first to her waist, then lower, cupping her ass cheek so his hand was squashed under her delightfully soft ass against the rough fabric of the seat.
“Ooh, now you’re being even more naughty, Mark,” Kriti murmured, “touching my ass in public.”
“I can’t help it, you’ve such a beautiful bum, I just had to hold it.”
“Go on then, squeeze my ass you naughty man.”
Mark did as he was told, cupping her flesh through the denim. Kriti responded by teasing his cock through his jeans.
“So I’ve held your cock, Mark, what should I do next with it? If we weren’t on this bus, maybe I should say hello to it properly?” She gently rubbed where she could feel his cock head.
“How would you say hello properly?” Mark groaned.
“Give it a kiss of course. Would you like that?”
“Christ, yes, I would love it.”
“You’d like me to kiss your cock?”
“Yeah, kiss my cock, Kriti.”
Kriti undid the button of Mark’s jeans, and for a second he thought she was going to go down on him there. Instead she slid her hand inside his flies, rearranging his fleece top so that anyone who saw them would be unlikely to realise what she was doing.
“When we’re alone, Mark, I’m going to kiss your cock. I’m going to kneel before you and put my lips over your cock and lick it.” Her hands were inside his boxers now, the first true contact between her fingers and his flesh.
Mark moved his hand again, slipping from Kriti’s ass cheek to the seam that ran down between her ass cheeks and further between her legs. His hand was absolutely beneath her, and he could feel the warmth of her crotch. “We mustn’t forget your pussy, though,” he whispered.
“No, we mustn’t!”
“You feel so hot, Kriti.”
“Mm, I am hot. And wet. My pussy’s wet for you, Mark.”
“I guess I should say hello to your pussy properly too…”
“Oh yeah. You want to kiss my pussy?”
“So much. I want to taste you on my lips.”
With her free hand, Kriti swiftly unbuttoned the top of her jeans. “Touch me, then taste me.”
Quickly checking that they were still relatively alone, Mark pulled his hand from Kriti’s ass and slipped it inside the front of her jeans. He could feel what seemed like lacy panties, then, hoping his fingers were still warm from touching her ass, slid his hand inside the panties, brushing over Kriti’s bushy pubic hair and then, magically, he encountered the slick wetness of her slit. Kriti gasped.
“Fuck, you’re wet, Kriti.”
“You make me wet, you make me feel so naughty.”
There was something wonderfully awkward about stroking Kriti’s pussy against the restraint of her jeans, while at the same time his own pulsating cock was receiving similar delicately frustrating treatment.
“Now, taste…” she whispered.
Mark was reluctant to withdraw his hand, it felt like nothing on earth to be stroking his lover so intimately, but he also knew that she had wonderful and definite ideas about where this was all heading. Pulling his hand free he lifted his fingers to his lips and tasted the incredible salty-sweet musk of Kriti’s honey.
“Let me!” Kriti leaned in and took a swift lick of Mark’s fingers. He was both amazed and thrilled at her naughtiness.
At the same time her fingertips continued to work magical wonders with his cock. With exquisite softness she traced around the slit, drawing his precum around his cock-head, slicking it thoroughly. Then, she pulled her hand out of his flies, and lifted her fingers to her mouth. “Until I get a chance to kiss hello properly, this will have to do…”
As soon as she’d done this second wicked thing, she slipped her hand back inside his jeans. “Now kiss me,” she breathed, “I want to taste us both on our lips.”
Their faces met, her tongue again darting with insane sensuality in and out of Mark’s mouth. The taste of her sweet honey mixed with the more salty flavour of his precum made the kiss even more frantically sexy.
Kriti pulled back. Mark was vaguely aware that they were near Hyde Park Corner, all the bombastic military memorials an utterly incongruous backdrop to their intense intimacy.
“So, Mark, when we’ve introduced ourselves to each other’s privates, what should we do then?” She tweaked his cock suggestively.
“I want you, Kriti,” he murmured. Although he had his own ideas, he understood it was far more exciting for her to articulate her own fantasies to him.
“You ‘want’ me, huh? You mean you want to fuck me, my sweet boy?”
“Yes. I want to fuck you. So bad.”
“How do you want to fuck me?”
“Hard. Hard and fast so you come on my cock.”
“Mmm.” Kriti was very lightly wanking him now, so far as was possible in the confines of his jeans. “You want your cock right up my pussy?”
“Yeah. I want to fuck your pussy so hard and make you come.”
“Mm, so good. I want to ride you, Mark. You like that? Me sliding my pussy down on your cock, my boobs in front of your face so you can kiss and lick them?”
“Fuck, yes. Slide yourself onto my cock, I’ll hold onto your hips and push up into your pussy while I kiss your tits.”
“Oh yeah, pushing myself down as hard as I can, feeling your cock against the sides of my pussy, loving your mouth on my boobs.”
“You gonna come fucking me like that, Kriti?”
“Sure I’m gonna come with your cock deep deep inside me. You gonna come too, Mark? I want your come all the way up inside me.”
“Yeah. Pushing harder than faster than ever, shooting my spunk all the way inside your hot wet pussy.”
They both paused their stroking, as if, in a strange way, their conversation had led them both to their orgasms.
“You want to get off the bus, Kriti?” Mark asked.
She looked at him. “We haven’t seen Buckingham Palace yet!”
“Oh.”
“Of course I want to get off the bus, Mark. Do you think I’ve seen anything of London at all?!?”
+++
Almost running into Mark’s bedroom, Kriti turned to him and they locked themselves into a frantic embrace, Mark remembering the Mumbai balcony and the way they had felt then. Now they were two animals, clawing each other with no restraint.
Suddenly, Kriti broke free, only this time she wasn’t heading off into the Mumbai night. She dropped to her knees, and with a few deft moves his jeans and boxers were down at his knees.
“Mm,” Kriti murmured, her hands reaching to lightly touch his shaft, “now I get to say hello properly.”
Mark stood still, bewitched by the sight of the beautiful young woman kneeling before him, her fingers running softly over his cock. She swirled her fingertips over his cock-head, taking his precum and sliding it all over. Then, to Mark’s surprise – how could he still be surprised? – she slid a hand inside her own jeans, touching her wet pussy, then reached up to add her own juices to further lubricate Mark’s cock.
“You’re incredible…” he murmured.
Kriti leant in, her mouth slightly open, a little like she’d looked when he’d surprised her in the taxi. My God, thought Mark, those lips, those incredible lips, they’re going to be kissing my cock.
At the first contact of Kriti’s mouth on his cock Mark groaned. She held the O shape, her lips barely making contact with his crown as she moved backwards and forwards. Then, ever so slowly, she moved further in, taking more and more of his cock in her mouth. Her lips closed a little, and it felt almost as if the whole of his shaft was held lightly but firmly in her mouth.
Kriti began moving herself back and forth on Mark’s cock. The motion was so simple, and so sensual, and for the first time with a woman Mark realised that, more than anything, Kriti was pleasuring herself on his cock, rather than simply pleasing him. Far from disappointing him, he found it intensely exciting that this young woman could pleasure herself with her mouth on his cock.
Now Kriti reached up with a hand and gently cupped Mark’s balls, her fingers teasing and stroking all around. Sometimes she probed a little further back, making him weak with anticipation, but always teasingly – what else? – she left him wanting more.
Mark knew that, with all the preliminary play on the bus, it wouldn’t be long before he came. There could have been nothing more wonderful in the world, and perhaps Kriti wanted to feel him coming in her mouth, but he wanted to keep to the script they had written before.
He gently pulled her away from his cock, and it was almost unbearable as she let his cock drop out of her mouth. “Your turn,” he whispered, and half-lifted her backwards onto his bed.
Kriti’s jeans were still half-undone, but it was yet another tease as he slid them down her legs. She was wearing bright red lacy panties, although the last hour or so had made a terrible mess of them. He pulled them off too, and knelt, reverentially, between her legs.
He was in the most delightful and intensely erotic place in the world. Those long brown legs, leading up to her thick bush of black pubic hair, and glistening obscenely the pink-brown gash of her pussy lips.
Mark kissed the insides of Kriti’s thighs, wanting to tease her just a little and to convey, however inadequately, that *all* of her body delighted him. But he was drawn utterly irresistibly to her honey, his face getting ever close to her crotch.
He brushed his lips across Kriti’s pubes, tasting where her juices had become slicked there. But, although he wanted to tease and tempt, he couldn’t control the need to taste her properly. Mark gently brushed his mouth against Kriti’s pussy, his tongue poking lightly out to drink in a little nectar.
She tasted incredible, so salty-sweet, intoxicating. Still touching her with his lips, he drew his tongue up between her labia, her juices flowing freely into his eager mouth. Finally, as he licked ever up, his tongue encountered the soft-hard nub of her clit. He kissed it with infinite tenderness, circling it and feeling it throb. Then, as if spoiled for choice and eager to find all the treats that Kriti’s body had to offer, he moved down again, his tongue searching for the opening to Kriti’s pussy-hole, pushing inside as he tried to tongue-fuck her.
Mark could have pleasured Kriti for hours, and wanted to bring her to her orgasm with his mouth, but then he felt her hands on his shoulders, bringing him up to her.
“Kiss me again,” she said, “let me taste.” Mark’s cock was pressing hard against Kriti’s thigh as their mouths met, and he felt her tongue meet his own as they tasted each other’s bodies.
It would have been easy and natural for Mark to enter Kriti like that, but once again she took charge, rolling him backwards so that his cock was pointing hungrily to the ceiling for her. Kriti quickly pulled off her sweater and t-shirt, unhooked her bra, letting her large but gorgeous brown breasts swing free, her nipples full and engorged with excitement. Finally, she was naked for him.
Kriti climbed over Mark’s chest and he could feel her wetness on his tummy. She moved carefully backwards, and lifted herself up so that her pussy was teasing the head of his cock.
Then she dropped down, slowly impaling herself on him. His cock felt as if it was disappearing into the sweetest softest tunnel, he could feel the wet fleshy walls of her pussy sliding against his shaft. Mark reached for Kriti’s hips, wanting to touch her skin as he felt his cock lose itself deep inside her body.
Kriti lowered her body forwards, offering her beautiful breasts for his mouth to pleasure. Taking his hands from her hips Mark cupped both her tits, his tongue kissing where they hung down, then tracing patterns all over her flesh, circling around and around her hard brown nipples.
At the same time Kriti had begun to lift herself up and down on Mark’s cock, as if trying with every move to get him deeper and deeper into her body. It felt as if she wanted to feel utterly and completely filled with his cock, and he encouraged her by lifting his hips to meet her, surging upwards to bury himself inside her.
After toying with Kriti’s tits, Mark finally licked his tongue towards her nipples, taking first one and then the other between his lips, his teeth softly biting them and being rewarded with them swelling and engorging.
Kriti’s riding on Mark’s cock was becoming less controlled and more instinctual, as he mouthed her tits it was clear her body was commanding her, she pushed and pushed as if she needed him to lose his cock deep inside her body.
Mark recognised that Kriti was near to her orgasm, and inevitably it led to his own approaching. They were both too far gone now, abandoned to the most primitive and basic urges, Kriti fucking herself down repeatedly on him, Mark holding onto her hips as if he would be able to split her in two with his pounding cock.
Kriti began to shake, a loud primal growl coming from her lips. Impossibly, she seemed to drive Mark’s cock even deeper into her sopping cunt, and as she came hard onto his cock he felt his own release. He thrust harder than ever before, almost feeling as if he were lost inside Kriti’s body, as jet after jet of his seed spurted deep, deep into her shuddering body.
They collapsed sideways onto the bed, his cock still inside her, and for a long time Mark and Kriti just lay there in each other’s arms. There were no words, because there was no need for them.
+++
“You’re amazing,” Mark murmured. They had been lying silently together on the bed the whole time, Kriti’s head resting comfortably on his chest, his hands resting loosely on her long black hair.
“Mm, you too!”
“I mean incredible, just incredible. I just can’t believe…” He trailed off.
“You sound surprised!”
“No. Well…” Mark was getting himself into another tangle.
“You are surprised!”
“No. It’s just that…it’s so wonderful that you’re so d…” Mark stopped himself.
“‘D…’? Were you going to call me ‘dirty’?”
“Er…maybe?”
“Well what do you expect, I’ve been on a nine hour flight!”
“No, I didn’t mean that!”
“I know. I thought you British were meant to have the sense of humour! You’re surprised, and amazed, and it’s incredible, that a nice young Indian girl can be dirty in bed, yes?”
“I suppose…”
“You probably thought I spent my spare time spinning yarn and reading Tagore, not dreaming about sucking your cock, right?”
Mark hadn’t heard of Tagore, but inwardly he acknowledged that Kriti’s caricature held broadly true. “Sort of. I maybe assumed you were quite…innocent.”
Kriti lifted herself up on an elbow, her breasts rubbing against Mark’s chest, and looked at him. “Well, you know what? I probably *am* quite innocent. Just because I had those thoughts, then did them with you, doesn’t mean I’ve tried things like that before. *One* of the things I like about you, Mark – and there are lots of things I like – is that I felt able to be “dirty” with you. I think an Indian man would have been horrified. So, yes, I do like to be dirty, and I do like to be dirty with you. It means your special, okay?”
“I’m a lucky man.”
“Damn right. Shall I tell you something about me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “When I was still at school, my parents took me to visit some relatives in New Delhi. We went for a trip to the temples at Khajuraho. Have you heard of them?” Mark shook his head. “Well I think everyone thought it was a chance to learn about ancient Hindu culture. Oh wow, ancient Hindu culture! The temples are very beautiful, but there are also some *very* erotic sculptures. Actually, really obscene. Two men fucking a woman. Two women fucking a man. Two women holding a woman upside down so a man can fuck her like that. I don’t know if my family noticed them, or pretended not to, but *I* noticed them. I was just a schoolgirl, all prim and proper, but I really started thinking after that. Night after night I’d remember the sculptures, and when in real life I saw a guy I liked, well I thought about him like we were on the walls of Khajuraho.”
Mark imagined the teenage Kriti in her bed at night, her mind full of the most obscene fantasies.
“Sadly the Indian guys I’ve known don’t draw on their ancient Hindu culture. All wham, bam, not even thank you ma’am. Dull, unimaginative, and terrified if I even thought of doing something that aroused me, not them. So you, my sweet British gentleman with no sense of humour, you are my chance to be myself. My very dirty self!”
“Fuck,” Mark muttered, his cock stirring again at all the words Kriti was using, “I guess Indian men don’t deserve you.”
“True. Now, I want to look at you.”
Mark was confused – Kriti *was* looking at him. “Here I am…”
“Ha, silly, I mean *look* at you.” She began moving to his feet. “I want to see all of you, to inspect my lover properly.”
“Oh, yes.”
Still lying on the bed, Kriti rested her head by Mark’s feet. She pulled his toes apart, gently brushing them with her lips. She kissed his ankles, his calves, his knees, her hands straying up his thighs. Inevitably Mark’s cock was stiffening at Kriti’s close attention to his body. “Oh, naughty boy again,” she whispered, “but we’ve already said hello.”
She moved above Mark’s waist, kissing and licking, her fingers running around his belly button, her teeth nibbling lightly on his nipples. Then she planted licking kisses all around his neck, something that felt both tender and exciting.
Kriti sat up. “So now you turn over.”
Mark happily rolled over, his hard cock pressed delightfully uncomfortably into the bed. Kriti knelt astride his back, and he could feel the brush of her pussy hair and the slickness of her pussy lips on the back of his thighs.
She kissed his neck again, his shoulder blades, and then ran her tongue down the line of his spine. Mark wanted to relieve the ever increasing pressure on his cock, but no way was he going to move an inch while Kriti’s exploration continued.
She kissed the small of his back, then sat up, her hands resting lightly on Mark’s ass cheeks. “You know you have a really sexy firm butt, Mark?”
“Thank-you,” he murmured into the bed.
Kriti started squeezing Mark’s ass, her palms pushing and her fingers pulling on his flesh. “Mm, so firm and strong.” She bent down, and he felt her kiss first one cheek, and then the other. “You sure you don’t mind me kissing your butt, Mark?”
Mark turned his head so she could be in no doubt whether he minded. “I love it, Kriti. It’s wonderful.”
Kriti’s pussy was over Mark’s calves now, and he could feel how wet she had become.
The kisses had turned into licks, swirling patterns over both his cheeks. She drew ever closer to his crack, before always turning away just as Mark imagined she might delve into it.
Then, Kriti sat up again, her hands resting softly on his bum. “So, Mark, can I look at you properly here, too?” she whispered.
“Yes. Yesss.”
“Not being too dirty for you?”
“Oh fuck, no!”
Mark felt Kriti’s thumbs touching his ass crack, and then she was prising his cheeks apart, opening his ass up to her eyes. “Oh, Mark, you have such a sexy asshole. All tight and wrinkled, with just a few sexy little hairs around it. Am I a dirty girl for liking your asshole so much, Mark?”
Mark could barely speak, but he managed to whisper: “you’re a filthy dirty girl for looking at my arsehole, and I love it.”
Kriti leant in closer. “Mm, let me see. I’m sure your ass is winking at me, Mark. Such a pretty, tiny little hole.” Mark could feel her breath on his exposed anus, her face was just inches away. “I wonder…” she said.
“What?” Mark asked, frantic with need.
“Well, I’ve kissed your beautiful body everywhere, should I kiss you here too?”
“Oh, yes! I…want you to kiss me so badly.”
“You think I’d be a really dirty naughty girl if I kissed your asshole, Mark?”
“You’d be the dirtiest naughtiest girl ever, and that would be perfect.”
“Okay.” She was so close now. “I think this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever thought of, Mark, but I just have to.”
Mark felt the light brush of Kriti’s tongue on his anus, and, unable to control himself, he lifted his bum up to meet her.
Kriti was tentative at first, her tongue running lightly around the creases of his hole. But clearly the sensation excited her, because her touch became firmer and firmer, her tongue probing ever more deeply into the very heart of his ass crater.
It felt perfectly exquisite, and Mark lost himself as Kriti thoroughly explored his asshole with her tongue. Finally, she pulled away. “My tongue got a little tired!” she said.
“Well, if you will be a dirty asslicker, Kriti… Kiss me.” She moved up to him, and their faces met. Her tongue, so recently buried into his most private hole, searched inside his mouth, meeting his tongue and licking it.
Mark pulled away. “Can I…?” he asked.
“What?” Kriti asked, kissing his lips and cheeks.
“You…”
“Oh, you’re so sweet, Mark, I think it’s you who’s the innocent one! But I want you to tell me, say the same bad dirty things as me.”
“I want to lick you there…to lick…to lick your arsehole.”
“Oh, yes, Mark, see how naughty we are together?”
Kriti lay face down on the bed, poking her ass invitingly into the air. Mark moved down her body, hardly able to believe the way things were moving. He planted soft kisses on Kriti’s round cheeks, wanting to tease her and to draw the moment out for both of them.
Then he moved to the small of Kriti’s back, kissing and licking her there, before drawing his mouth down. He soon felt his mouth moving between the soft swell of Kriti’s ass cheeks, but still he went on further, encouraged by the way Kriti was lifting her ass higher and higher off the bed.
Mark’s tongue was lost fully down Kriti’s ass crack now, he was nearly there, so close, so intimate, so *naughty*. And then he encountered the soft little ridge of Kriti’s anus, the tiny crinkles and crevices, and then the tip of his tongue was on her asshole, the most private tight little hole imaginable. All delicacy was lost, he wanted his tongue to poke and probe all around her ass, to lick and lick until he had searched every sordid little wrinkle a hundred times.
Eventually his tongue, too, became tired. “Kiss me,” Kriti whispered, “let me taste.” Their lips locked, and however much Mark’s tongue ached it was heaven for it to meet Kriti’s as she searched hungrily for the taste of her own bum on him.
“Fuck me now, Mark,” Kriti said, “I want to kneel on all fours like a Rocky and feel you fucking me from behind.”
She knelt on the bed, resting on her elbows, her large breasts brushing the sheet. Mark knelt behind her, her pussy lips gaping obscenely in excitement at what they’d been doing to each other. Mark felt a powerful urge to be inside her, there was no time for teasing, and putting his hands on Kriti’s hips he thrust strongly forward, feeling the wonderful sensation of his cock being swallowed inside her walls.
Kriti matched him, thrusting herself back. They were both so excited that at first the rhythm eluded them, but Mark controlled himself to match Kriti’s timing.
Looking down at his cock ramming slickly in and out of Kriti’s cunt, Mark could see the dark wrinkled hole of Kriti’s asshole, glistening from his rimming. He rested his thumb on her anus, and began rubbing her.
“Ooh, yesss, Mark, that feels sooo good. Rub my asshole my dirty naughty boy.” Kriti was slamming herself back, trying as before to impale herself on his cock. “Put it in, put your thumb in my ass. Fill my dirty holes.”
Mark felt Kriti’s anus resisting as he pressed the tip of his thumb against it, but as Kriti pushed back and back he felt the muscular resistance give in, and he was inside her, inside Kriti’s ass. It felt hot and obscenely tight.
“Oh, yes, Mark, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck me, fuck me hard!”
As Mark felt the coming explosion, he pressed his thumb as far into Kriti’s asshole as it would go. Kriti wailed, and her thrusts became uncontrollable as she climaxed impossibly hard on his cock and his thumb.
The physical sensations and the eroticism of the moment were too much for Mark, and even as Kriti was still shuddering he unleashed powerful thrusts of come deep inside Kriti’s pounded cunt.
They fell onto the bed, heaving, exhausted.
Mark held Kriti tight, and for a long time they lay like that, half-dozing in a satiated daydream.
Eventually Mark nuzzled himself against Kriti’s ear. “You know,” he whispered, “I’ve been thinking.”
Kriti looked up at him dreamily. “Ooh, good, what are we going to do now?”
“No. Well, I think we’re going to do…lots.”
“Lots?!” Kriti laughed. “Oh you really are so sweet.”
“Ha. Anyway, that wasn’t what I meant. We’re signing off on Mumbai soon, and they’re going to need someone to run the operation there. That’s never been my thing, but, well, my boss keeps telling me I should get some operational experience. What do you think?”
Kriti was wide awake now, those dark eyes staring intently. “You mean you might come and work in Mumbai?”
“Sure, maybe.”
She hugged him, tight. “Oh, that’s such a wonderful idea!”
“Well, actually I thought about it a bit more, too. We’d need some local help, someone who knew the city, how to steal someone else’s taxi…”
Kriti pulled back, her eyes wide. “We could work together?”
“Yeah, possibly. It would be a one man show, so, just you and me…”
“You and me in an office, Mark? I can’t believe it’s possible.”
“I know, I can’t believe it either. Would it work?”
“I think we’d be bad together, Mark.”
For just the briefest moment Mark thought Kriti was turning him down. “Oh, I think we’d be very bad, Kriti,” he said, kissing her.
Kriti squeezed him tightly, her beaming smile matching his. “Oh, yes, Mark, we’d be the naughtiest, dirtiest sexiest office in all of India!”Mark and Kriti looked down at Mumbai through the plate glass window, the city laid out for them in all its manic energy. Suddenly, Kriti jumped.
“Oh, Mark! Is that the hotel?”
“Ha, yeah. I wondered when you’d notice. You can see the taxi rank. And the balcony.”
“Is that why you chose this office?” Kriti looked at him, her dark eyes misty.
“Of course. With a view like this we can’t do anything but succeed.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “You are *so* romantic.”
Mark slipped his arm around Kriti’s waist. “Well we had to choose an office *somewhere*…”
The past five months had continued the stop-then-start, frustration-then-passion character of their relationship. Kriti’s London trip had been spent mainly in Mark’s bedroom, with an occasional sightseeing or shopping trip while they recovered. The parting had been tearful, but at least they had a plan for the future to keep them going.
Ian Devlin had been surprised at Mark’s offer to run Mumbai, but supportive. Senior management had taken more persuading, and there had been several times when Mark had been sick with tension at the prospect of them saying no.
Then, securing all the necessary local agreements had been a bureaucratic nightmare. Mark’s decision to recruit Kriti had never been solely down to personal reasons; many of the qualities that he adored in her would be useful in business, and she had proved it a hundred times over in overcoming all the hurdles that had been placed in their way. He felt enormously proud of her, and sometimes almost jealous of the admiring comments that her abilities drew from his colleagues.
As the months passed they had continued to chat on email and video, always passionately and frequently sexually. But their relationship had started in the most intimately physical way, and however exciting it was for Mark to see Kriti on a screen, her brown legs splayed, her fingers pushing deep into the sopping gash of her pussy, it couldn’t be the same as the actual touch and taste of his lover’s body.
So, on Mark’s two flying visits to Mumbai, when their schedule was already full with business, they had found time for sessions of insanely frantic lovemaking. They had almost devoured each other, such was the physicality of their needs.
Kriti leaned against the desk that had been placed by the window to take full advantage of the panoramic views. “And you’re finally here for good,” she whispered to him.
“I know. Unbelievable.” Mark was still a little frazzled from the overnight flight, but everything – work, his personal life – seemed so *promising* that he could easily ignore his fatigue.
“It’s all so exciting!” Kriti giggled.
“Yeah.” Mark slid his hand down from Kriti’s waist to her ass. “It’s always exciting with you.” He felt something under Kriti’s skirt. In contrast to the casual clothes he’d always seen her in before, she was very smartly dressed in a black suit and a white blouse that almost managed to disguise how magnificent her breasts were. She looked so professional that he hadn’t expected to touch *this*.
Kriti looked up at him. “Have I been naughty?”
“Are you wearing suspender and stockings?”
“Sure. I couldn’t *completely* be a business woman, however much I tried. Do you like them?”
Mark moved his hand over where the thin strip of elastic lay hidden. “Mm.” His cock was stiffening as he thought of this smart young Indian woman dressed up underneath like a courtesan. “Very naughty.”
“Oh good, because you know they’re not very comfortable!”
“Well, for me your discomfort is definitely worth it.” Mark moved his hand moved over the perfect roundness of Kriti’s cheeks, loving the sensation when he encountered the wicked little line of material.
Mark pulled Kriti to him, their faces locked in a passionate kiss, while his hands mauled and grabbed the back of Kriti’s skirt.
“Careful, you might ruin my suit,” Kriti whispered.
“I’ll get you another.” Mark’s groping was almost out of control: Kriti’s little secret had gripped his imagination in a unique way. “Fuck, your arse is incredible.” He pulled her to him, wanting her to feel how hot and hard is cock was at her choice of undergarment.
Kriti pressed herself close to him. “Oh, you’re being an animal,” she moaned.
“Christ, Kriti, I really can’t help it.” He squeezed both her ass cheeks roughly. “What an incredibly horny thing to do for me.”
“Mm. I want to be your dirty office girl.”
Mark yanked the back of Kriti’s skirt up. Moving his hands down he found Kriti’s cheeks were bare, and he realised she was wearing a thong. “Fuck, Kriti, what are you wearing for me?” His hands pulled and pushed her fleshy globes.
“All my secret naughtiness is just for you, Mark. Whenever I’m in a suit and everyone thinks I’m such a smart professional, I want to make your cock hard, knowing that underneath I’m your dirty girl.”
Mark slipped his fingers down Kriti’s ass crack, sliding under the thin lace of the thong. “I love this, Kriti, such a lucky strip of material to be wedged between your arse cheeks all day.”
“Oh, Mark, you know you can touch my ass whenever you want.”
Mark reached further down, rubbing her most private place. Kriti gasped.
“Oh, yes,” Kriti moaned. “You always find it so *fast*. I love how you always have to touch my asshole.”
“It’s our most dirty secret, isn’t it?” Mark rubbed across Kriti’s anus, feeling beneath his fingertips all the wrinkles and the tiny dark hole at their centre. “That I have to finger your arse, and you always want me to?”
“Put your finger in, Mark. Finger my asshole in our office.”
Mark pressed against Kriti’s crater. His fingertip was dry, and she felt tighter and more resisting than ever before. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I want it. Put it in, I want to feel you stretch me, Mark.”
He was rough, he knew he was, but Kriti groaned as Mark forced his finger up into Kriti’s back passage.
“Oh, yes,” Kriti whispered, “put it as far up as you can.”
It was slightly awkward, but Mark loved being able to kiss and feel Kriti’s face as he vigorously probed her bum.
Then, unexpectedly, she pulled herself away, leaving Mark’s finger feeling lost.
“I wonder…” Kriti said, her eyes burning with devilish excitement.
Mark held her waist tight, wanting to resume but wanting even more to find out what was in Kriti’s mind. “Go on!”
“Oh, I’m thinking such bad things now, Mark. Do you mind? I know you want me to be bad for you, but I don’t want to shock you.”
Mark kissed Kriti passionately. “You can’t shock me. Anything you want, I want it too. So badly.”
“Well…we’ve been *so* intimate, but we haven’t tried *everything* yet, have we?”
Mark had realised from their first lovemaking in his flat that the perfect balance in their relationship came from Kriti leading them both on. There had been moments when there had been things that he had desperately wanted to do with her, but he knew that the greatest intensity could only come from Kriti exploring her own desires.
“No,” he replied. “But I would do anything for you. Anything. And if it’s *very* bad, then that’s only a *very* good thing for me as well.”
“Mm, okaaay. Well, I’m thinking… Oh, Mark, first of all will you kiss me there? Then I can think how bad I can be…”
Kriti leaned over the desk, her skirt ruffled around her waist, her soft brown ass cheeks bare and rude save for the thin strip of the thong and the two lines of the suspenders. Through the window she could see the people down below, and perhaps if they happened to look up they could see her too.
Mark knelt on the rough office carpet behind her. From this position Kriti’s pose seemed even more bewitching. He prised open her ass cheeks, wondering again at how exciting he found the sight of her little brown asshole.
Then he was on her, his mouth pressed tight against Kriti’s anus, his tongue flicking over her crevices and probing desperately against the muscle of her back passage. Kriti pushed herself back, wanting his tongue to penetrate her there if it could.
“Oh, Mark, would it be *too* dirty of me to want something more there?” Kriti whimpered.
Still licking Kriti’s bumhole, Mark replied: “You couldn’t be too dirty, Kriti. I want to do it, whatever you want. Tell me.”
“Mark, I can say anything to you, but I don’t know. It makes me feel so hot thinking about it, but I’m scared.”
Mark stood up, and embraced Kriti from behind, the bulge in his suit trousers pressing rudely against her bare ass.
“I want to do it so badly, Kriti,” he whispered.
“Me too. I’ve thought about it so much, when you’ve fingered me. And now I just want more, I want *you* there.”
Mark was rubbing himself against Kriti’s bum, his body throbbing with desire.
“It would be the dirtiest thing we could do, Kriti, here in our new office. Tell me…”
Kriti thrust her bum back. Her craving was too great. “I want it, Mark. Please.”
“Say it, Kriti. Whisper it to me, be the dirtiest office girl for me.”
“Fuck me, Mark. Fuck me in my ass.” She shivered against him as she said the words.
Mark undid his trousers, and dropped them with his boxer shorts to his knees. His cock was now free, pressing urgently against Kriti’s naked bum. He reached around and held both Kriti’s breasts through her white blouse.
“Oh, yes, Kriti, you’re the dirtiest girl ever, asking me to fuck you in the arse.” He knew the words would help her overcome her nerves.
“I am, sooo dirty. Wanting you to ass-fuck me. Sooo dirty.”
Mark’s cock was already slick with precum, and Kriti’s asshole wet from his tonguing, but he wanted to be as lubed as possible for her. “I’m going to fuck your pussy first, my angel, so I can slide in you nice and easy.” His cock easily found her open pussy lips, and he pushed up deep into her. She groaned, maybe aware that what was to follow would be similar but also so so different.
Then, he withdrew, and looking down he carefully rested his cock-head against her dark brown bumhole. He reached around with one hand and rested his fingers on Kriti’s clit, stroking lightly.
“Are you ready, Kriti?”
“Yesss. Fuck my ass, Mark, please.”
Mark pushed his cock forward, feeling the impossible smallness of Kriti’s bumhole against his crown. He worked harder on her clit now, willing her body to submit to all the intense sensations it was experiencing. Knowing that the first shock of penetration couldn’t last too long, he pushed forward hard, feeling Kriti’s asshole resist against this terrible invasion and then, suddenly, relax. Mark felt his cock-head buried in the incredibly tight entrance to Kriti’s back passage.
Kriti gasped. “Oh, fuck!” she moaned. “You feel so big…”
Still stroking Kriti’s clit, Mark pushed further in. Kriti’s anal canal felt exquisitely tight, a narrow tube of sensitive flesh stretched to its limits.
“Oh, fuck, Mark, it feels like you’re splitting me in two.”
Looking down, Mark could see that his cock was almost three-quarters inside Kriti’s ass. He pulled back until only the crown remained buried, and then slid forwards again.
“God, yes!” Kriti cried. “I almost can’t breathe but I feel so full of you, Mark. You’re so big, and you’re filling my body.”
Mark began a steady rhythm, his cock moving in and out of Kriti’s back passage. With each thrust forward Kriti squealed: “Yes…! Yes…! Yes…!”
Mark realised that now she was pushing herself back onto him, that she was urging him ever deeper into her rear. He felt like a beast, and reaching around Kriti he yanked open her blouse, buttons tumbling to the floor, and pulled her tits roughly out of her bra.
“Yes…! Yes…! Yes…!”
Mark mauled Kriti’s breasts, manhandling them in a brutal way that he had never come close to before. And he had given up on any restraint with his cock, each thrust pushing harder and deeper into Kriti’s ass.
“Yes…! Yes…! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass!”
“You like it up your arse, yeah?”
“I love it up my ass, yesss. Fuck it, fuck my ass, fuck my ass hard.”
“My dirty office girl, wanting me to fuck her arse hard.”
“I’m a dirty girl, Mark, I’m your dirty office girl and I want you to fuck me in the ass so bad.”
Mark pinched and pulled Kriti’s poor nipples, twisting them with a vicious passion that neither of them had known before.
“You like hurting my boobs, Mark? You like hurting them while you push your fat hard cock right up my asshole?”
“Oh yes, I want to pull your tits while I shove my cock so far into your arse.”
The sensation of Kriti’s anal canal gripping slickly onto his cock felt impossibly intense, but Mark wanted to give Kriti as little or as much time as she needed. In fact he was surprised at the way that she had become almost entranced by her ass-fucking, and she pushed back powerfully and repeatedly, wanting again and again to experience this terrible violation of her bum.
“Keep fucking my ass, Mark, keep pushing your cock up your dirty office girl’s poor little asshole. I want to feel it, I want to keep feeling it all the way up there.”
They were two-as-one, locked together in indescribable intimacy by the repeated invasion of Kriti’s bum by Mark’s cock. Minutes and minutes went by as Mark pushed and pulled his hard flesh in and out of Kriti’s anus, both of them hot and dripping with sweat.
Finally, Mark could feel Kriti’s rhythm change. “Oooh, Mark, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come. Hurt my boobs while you fuck your dirty office girl’s ass as hard as you can.”
Mark kept on pounding her, his fingers stretching Kriti’s nipples painfully away from her body. Her orgasm arrived, a howling explosion, and she thrust herself back violently, seeking the final dreadful inches of penetration in her ass.
Mark’s orgasm met Kriti’s, all of the sensations overwhelming him, and with thrust after thrust he felt his hot white spunk shooting deep into Kriti’s bowels.
Slowly, slowly, Mark withdrew, and he could see that Kriti’s asshole, such a tiny little hole before, had been transformed into an obscene ravaged gape.
He kissed her tenderly on her neck. “Okay?” he asked.
“Perfect,” she replied weakly. “Now I know how bad we can both be. And that is *perfectly* bad.”
—————————— By MikeWrites