The Knight and the Acolyte Book 8 Chapter 9 The Knight s Passion
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Amisha's Night Out free porn video
Amisha was not having a good time. Two weeks ago, she’d broken up with Vikram, eliciting angry calls from her parents and leading her to fail her industrial psychology exam. The whole time, her friend, Simran, had belabored the point of moving on, and Vikram—Amisha’s boyfriend since high school—had been no loss.
“He’s just another desi business major,” Simran said earlier that evening in part of convincing her to go out. “You could pick another just like him if that’s what you want, and I’m sure you’re family wouldn’t know the difference. But really, Amisha, is that what you want? I mean, we’re not in New Dehli. You don’t have to do what your parents say.”
“I didn’t even know what I want to do about all this,” Amisha said.
“I know I want to go out, and if I were you, I’d want to hook up with someone to make me feel good.”
It was easy for Simran to make those judgments. Her parents were far more liberal. She also had lighter skin and huge breasts, so she never had trouble getting a guy’s attention.
Amisha a fairly big breasts too, but was pudgier through the belly and hips. Also, she’d never been much good at flirting. All the same, Amisha found herself at a downtown club called The Bishop; she’d relented since it was only a few blocks from her apartment. She knew she should be studying the Organic Chemistry notes she’d borrowed from Melissa. Instead she was sitting on an old couch in The Bishop’s mezzanine, drinking her second long island iced tea in as many hours. A few guys had come their way to chat, but most of their attention was on Simran and her v-neck shirt.
Another group of guys burst through the door, their hooting incoherent through whatever Europop club remix of a Drake song the DJ had put on. From the group she only recognized James, from her psychology class, and he looked a little haggard. He was, however, looking their way after a quick stop at the bar. He traded handshakes with a few other guys before heading their way.
Simran nudged her. “You know him?”
“James something from psych.”
“He’s cute and coming right for us.”
Amisha almost said, “He probably saw your tits from outside,” but took a drink instead.
“Hey, Amisha.”
“Hi, James.” She gestured and introduced her friend, Simran.
“You hiding out?”
“No. Why?”
“Two pretty girls like you, I’d think the bartender would want you out front, bring in more of a crowd.”
Amisha raised an eyebrow. Simran giggled and pulled her shoulders back, so her shirt stretched across her tits. James noticed, but swung his gaze back to Amisha.
“You mind I hang here a minute?”
“What about your friends?” Amisha asked with a nod toward the bar.
“I’ve been babysitting them for over and hour now. I could stand to have a little more class happening this evening.”
“We don’t mind at all,” Simran volunteered. She stood quickly to let her tits bounce. “Save my seat while I get another drink.” As she moved aside, she pointed at James behind his back and made an oral sex motion. Amisha rolled her eyes as Simran flounced away.
James settled next to her, took a drink of his beer and said, “That psyche exam did a number on my grade.”
“Me, too.”
“Seriously? I thought you were always knocking that shit out? I mean they got your picture out on that APA bulletin board.”
She smiled and said, “Don’t remind me.” She felt certain that she was included only because she was the only non-white female working toward departmental honors.
“It’s not a bad picture.”
‘But it didn’t help with the exam. I can tell you that.” She took another drink, discovering she was down to mostly ice.
“You shouldn’t worry too much. I mean you’ve got the brains to pull it out if you’re done five other semesters of psyche already,” he said in an off-handed way.
It was sweet of him to say that. From Vikram and her parents, all she’d ever heard were reminders of the consequences of failure, and how important it was to succeed. Amisha wanted to thank him but instead said, “You’re not on the bulletin.”
He looked at her with a smirk. He had blond hair and a square face with high cheekbones, and the smirk worked. “You’re right.”
Amisha shook her head. “I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I mean, why are you in industrial psyche if it isn’t your major?”
“Minor,” he said. “A pyche minor will look good later.” Amisha rested her head back and listened to James explain how he’d settled on a major in Biology and minor in psych, which would look competitive in a few years when he applied for PA school after doing a stint as an EMT. Listening to him talk and seeing how animated he was, Amisha found herself smiling more and realizing she was attracted to him. The awareness startled her, and her first thought was how her father would disapprove of her dating a white guy. She realized she’d touched his shoulder several times.
Sitting up, Amisha said, “Simran’s been gone a while.”
“I think she’s over there,” James said, pointing her out near the bar where she was making out with a guy who was closing in on second base.
Amisha sighed. “I better get her home.”
“I can drop you off wherever you need.”
“That’s nice, but I’m just putting her on the campus shuttle. I just live down the street.” She didn’t know why she told him that.
“I’ll give you a hand in case things get rowdy,” he said with a grin. She liked the grin and motioned for him to come along.
With a bit of cajoling, Amisha got Simran disentangled, out of The Bishop, and walked her to the shuttle stop. When the white bus pulled up, Simran hugged Amisha, “Night, girl. See you for lunch tomorrow.” The she whispered, “And you better do something naughty with him and tell me all about it.” She waved at them both and got onto the shuttle with marginal difficulty.
As it pulled away, James asked, “Walk you home?”
She nodded. “Why an EMT and PA?” Amisha asked as they set off toward her building.
“My aunt’s a doctor. I used to stay with her in Charlotte in the summer.”
“I’ve got family in Charlotte, too,” Amisha said. It sounded inane to her, but James nodded.
“She’s been saying for years that the cost of Med school and the shit from insurance companies makes the career not worth the trouble. But I want a job helping people with medicine. I looked into nursing school, but being a PA seems like a better fit.” He gave an easy laugh. “I just have to get there.”
“You’ve got the drive,” she said. “Putting up with all those psych classes means you’re determined. Or crazy.”
He gave her that smile she liked. It looked just as good in the streetlights. “And what about you? I’ve been talking all night like a jerk.”
“Oh you’re not a jerk. Psychology because I’m interested in behavior and decision-making, but I didn’t want to be a doctor either. Really upset my father.”
“He’s pretty traditional, I guess?”
“You could say that. I don’t know what the big deal is for him. It’s not like he wanted me to practice medicine. I just had to graduate med school and marry a nice Indian boy.”
“Also a doctor?”
“Preferably, but a good family is more important.”
James whistled. “That’s traditional, all right.”
The walking conversation brought them to Amisha’s building. “This is my stop.”
“Mush easier than getting Simran into that shuttle, and good company, too.” He looked up the empty streets. The traffic lights had all switched to flashing red. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”
Before he could move away, she touched his arm. “You want to come up?” Amisha blurted.
“You sure?”
She was anything but sure, but she liked the look of him and was having fun for the first time in weeks and didn’t want him to leave. “I think I’d like it if you came up for tea or something.”
He gave her a look, his eyes lingering on her curves. “I’m down for that.”
Her heart was pounding as she lead hum up the steps. She hoped he was looking at her ass but was too nervous to turn around to see. She fumbled with her keys as they got to her door. What was she doing? She couldn’t remember if her place was a mess; she’d remembered Simran’s whisper to do something naughty. After putting the key in the lock, she spun around and kissed James hard. It didn’t take long for him to chase her tongue into her mouth as he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
Amisha felt her breasts pressing against him, her nipples hard as she moaned into the kiss before pulling away and saying, “I’m not usually like this.”
His hands were still on her. “Are you drunk?”
“No. Are you?”
He shook his head.
She nodded and kissed him again. Reaching behind her, she eventually opened the door. They stumbled in together. She brushed a light switch and dropped her purse in one motion as James kicked the door closed. Her ass bumped into the couch, and he was on her instantly, his tongue back in her mouth.
She reached for the hem of her shirt when he pulled back and said, “Shit.”
“What?” she gasped, afraid she’d done something to upset him.
“I don’t have a condom.”
Virkam had always worn protection except the few times she’d blown him. She looked at James, panting in her living room. She thought of her father’s eyebrows contracted in disapproval. She heard Simran’s whisper to be naughty. Amisha yanked her shirt over her head. “You can’t finish inside me. Got it?”
Jam nodded, staring at her tits in their lacy bra.
“I mean it. You have to pull out.”
“God, you’re fucking hot. You got it, Amisha. I’ll pull out.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him into the bedroom. She’d left clothes on the floor and the bed unmade, but James didn’t seem to mind.
Amisha wondered what’d come over her with this erotic impulse for a guy her family would never approve of. He had a Chinese hexagram tattooed on his left bicep, and she wondered what it meant while she undid her jeans and stepped out of them. James kissed her hips and belly as she undid her bra and let her breasts tumble free. She gave a yelp of his name as he seized and sucked tem, licking her hard, dark nipples. He groaned and squeezed her tits as he sucked them. She touched his shoulders and chest as he stood; she was firm under her fingers, and it made her wet. James was one of the few people to see her naked, and by the look on his face, he enjoyed the sight of her dusky, desi body. He kept looking at her as he peeled off his jeans and boxer briefs.
At the sight of his dick, Amisha gasped. He was hard, and big and his shaft curved. Even if she’d held onto the base of it, she couldn’t have fit it all in her mouth. She shook her head and felt his hand caressing her long, dark hair. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to.” She was still looking down at his dick. “But you’re really big.”
“You know how to boost a guy’s ego.”
Amisha laughed nervously.
“I’ll go as easy as you want,” he said, pushing his cock against her belly as he moved close. She could feel it throb, and it looked strange, so white and hard pressing against her slightly chubby cafe au lait belly. She sat on the edge of the bed, and then laid back and spread her legs.
James moved between her thighs and touched her pussy. She moaned as he fingered her, testing her wetness and rubbing it on his dick. She reached down to touch it. Together they guided it into her, and with a push from James, half his shaft disappeared into Amisha as she cried out, “Gah-ah!”
He grabbed her hips and asked, “You all right?”
“Yes,” she said, “Ah, yes, just go easy like you said.” She spread wider, hoping it would help. The pressure of James inside her was delicious. She took deep breaths and rocked her hips as he began thrusting, pushing more of himself into her. She moaned as he fit more inside her—one hand on the wooden slats of her headboard, the other clutching at his hexagram tattoo.
When he’d pushed in to his limit, James picked up his pace slightly, keeping a firm grip on her hips as he plunged his length into her over and over. Amisha cried out “Yes” every time, and it felt like his cockhead was tapping the bottom of her lungs. She was so wet and shocked she could take him, working her hips by his lead and squeezing him with her thighs as he fucked her.
His hands moved up her body and groped her breasts. As her hard nipples rubbed his palms, he groaned, “Your breasts. Oh my God, your breasts, Amisha.”
Both her hands gripped her headboard. “You like my big, Indian tits?” She wanted to sounds sexy but thought she sounded on the verge of tears.
James kneaded and played with them, pinching her nipples in time to his penetration. He groaned and squeezed them hard, then shifted his body so only his cockhead remained in her, turned his head and sucked hard on her left nipple. Her nails scratched the headboard as she shouted his name and twisted her body to shove her tit into his face. He suckled hungrily, taking all she offered, letting his tongue and teeth work against her hard, dark nipple.
“There’s more, James,” she cried and shifted her body the other way to tap his face with her right tit, which he grabbed and sucked just as hard. She smiled, thinking Simran would be jealous to know James craved her tits. She gasped as he sucked hard, and when her breasts popped from his mouth, she said, “Fuck me, James. Fuck me with that big dick.”
He obliged, taking hold of her ass in both hands and pumping every inch into her as deep and fast as he could. She could see the muscles in his neck and arms straining as he grunted and pounded her pussy with his engorged cock.
She realized how every thrust made her breasts heave and her pudgy belly sway. “You like thick girls?”
“I like you,” he growled. “You’re body is fucking great.”
She was self-conscious and turned on at the same time. She looked down. His hard, white body on top of her soft coffee and cream one. His muscles working and standing out as her jiggly curves took what he gave, accepting it and turning it into sparks of erotic energy that shot through her. He wanted her body. More than that, he craved it, plunging into her to see her reaction to his lust, watching her bounce at the force of his entry. Her hands gripped the headboard, and her thighs gripped the man. “I like your huge dick. Fuck me with your huge dick.”
He raised himself a bit and plunged hard and fast. Amisha was wetter than she’d ever been, and the pressure of him blew her mind. One of his hands grabbed her belly. Her yelp was lost in his shouting of “Fuck yeah, Amisha. Oh fuck yeah.”
She drooled a little as her breasts heaved and her box spring creaked, and the top of her knocked on the wall. This was the best fuck she’d ever had, not just because James stuffed his enormous cock in her, but because she’d picked this. Her parents had picked Vikram, chosen her college, even selected this apartment for her. But James and his big white dick had been her choice and hers alone. This belonged to her.
“Oh shit,” James shouted, and she thought something was wrong. He pulled out, let his wet length tap against her belly, and came saying, “Amisha, oh fuck, Amisha.” She watched his dick pulse and the cockhead jizz on her chubby belly. He groaned several times as his balls drained into her. She watched open-mouthed, fascinated and turned on. When he finished, Amisha thought it looked like he’d spilled a carton of milk on her. No, milk was too runny. Glue, she thought. Nearly half her belly looked like a bottle of Elmer’s glue had been emptied on it: thick, white, gooey and glistening.
“I didn’t think there’d be so much,” she said. “Um, James, a little help?”
He looked at her and the mess he’d plastered on her belly. “Oh right,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “A towel?”
She nodded. “Under the bathroom sink, please.” She watched his semi-hard cock bounce as he stumbled away and returned her attention to his cumshot. To Amisha, her belly looked like a half-moon: dark on one side and white and shiny on the other. A few runny drops had trickled down her hip and a gob had slid into her belly button. She heard James in the bathroom, and she used a finger to scoop his jizz from her navel and after a moment’s contemplation, lick it up. Amisha shuddered at the pungent, salty taste. The cum stayed on her tongue until after she swallowed several times, feeling its thickness trail down her throat.
James returned and gingerly wiped his cumshot from her. She thanked him in a soft voice as he pulled on his boxer briefs and put the towel on top of her laundry basket. He rejoined her in bed and said, “That was really great. You know how to use your body.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty good with that big dick, too.”
“I know you said your family is traditional and all, but I like you, Amisha, and I hope I can keep seeing you.”
“I don’t want this to be just a hook up either,” she admitted. It felt good to make a choice just for her, and she’d take the consequences knowing the decision was hers. He pulled her close, and Amisha knew she wanted this.
“He’s just another desi business major,” Simran said earlier that evening in part of convincing her to go out. “You could pick another just like him if that’s what you want, and I’m sure you’re family wouldn’t know the difference. But really, Amisha, is that what you want? I mean, we’re not in New Dehli. You don’t have to do what your parents say.”
“I didn’t even know what I want to do about all this,” Amisha said.
“I know I want to go out, and if I were you, I’d want to hook up with someone to make me feel good.”
It was easy for Simran to make those judgments. Her parents were far more liberal. She also had lighter skin and huge breasts, so she never had trouble getting a guy’s attention.
Amisha a fairly big breasts too, but was pudgier through the belly and hips. Also, she’d never been much good at flirting. All the same, Amisha found herself at a downtown club called The Bishop; she’d relented since it was only a few blocks from her apartment. She knew she should be studying the Organic Chemistry notes she’d borrowed from Melissa. Instead she was sitting on an old couch in The Bishop’s mezzanine, drinking her second long island iced tea in as many hours. A few guys had come their way to chat, but most of their attention was on Simran and her v-neck shirt.
Another group of guys burst through the door, their hooting incoherent through whatever Europop club remix of a Drake song the DJ had put on. From the group she only recognized James, from her psychology class, and he looked a little haggard. He was, however, looking their way after a quick stop at the bar. He traded handshakes with a few other guys before heading their way.
Simran nudged her. “You know him?”
“James something from psych.”
“He’s cute and coming right for us.”
Amisha almost said, “He probably saw your tits from outside,” but took a drink instead.
“Hey, Amisha.”
“Hi, James.” She gestured and introduced her friend, Simran.
“You hiding out?”
“No. Why?”
“Two pretty girls like you, I’d think the bartender would want you out front, bring in more of a crowd.”
Amisha raised an eyebrow. Simran giggled and pulled her shoulders back, so her shirt stretched across her tits. James noticed, but swung his gaze back to Amisha.
“You mind I hang here a minute?”
“What about your friends?” Amisha asked with a nod toward the bar.
“I’ve been babysitting them for over and hour now. I could stand to have a little more class happening this evening.”
“We don’t mind at all,” Simran volunteered. She stood quickly to let her tits bounce. “Save my seat while I get another drink.” As she moved aside, she pointed at James behind his back and made an oral sex motion. Amisha rolled her eyes as Simran flounced away.
James settled next to her, took a drink of his beer and said, “That psyche exam did a number on my grade.”
“Me, too.”
“Seriously? I thought you were always knocking that shit out? I mean they got your picture out on that APA bulletin board.”
She smiled and said, “Don’t remind me.” She felt certain that she was included only because she was the only non-white female working toward departmental honors.
“It’s not a bad picture.”
‘But it didn’t help with the exam. I can tell you that.” She took another drink, discovering she was down to mostly ice.
“You shouldn’t worry too much. I mean you’ve got the brains to pull it out if you’re done five other semesters of psyche already,” he said in an off-handed way.
It was sweet of him to say that. From Vikram and her parents, all she’d ever heard were reminders of the consequences of failure, and how important it was to succeed. Amisha wanted to thank him but instead said, “You’re not on the bulletin.”
He looked at her with a smirk. He had blond hair and a square face with high cheekbones, and the smirk worked. “You’re right.”
Amisha shook her head. “I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I mean, why are you in industrial psyche if it isn’t your major?”
“Minor,” he said. “A pyche minor will look good later.” Amisha rested her head back and listened to James explain how he’d settled on a major in Biology and minor in psych, which would look competitive in a few years when he applied for PA school after doing a stint as an EMT. Listening to him talk and seeing how animated he was, Amisha found herself smiling more and realizing she was attracted to him. The awareness startled her, and her first thought was how her father would disapprove of her dating a white guy. She realized she’d touched his shoulder several times.
Sitting up, Amisha said, “Simran’s been gone a while.”
“I think she’s over there,” James said, pointing her out near the bar where she was making out with a guy who was closing in on second base.
Amisha sighed. “I better get her home.”
“I can drop you off wherever you need.”
“That’s nice, but I’m just putting her on the campus shuttle. I just live down the street.” She didn’t know why she told him that.
“I’ll give you a hand in case things get rowdy,” he said with a grin. She liked the grin and motioned for him to come along.
With a bit of cajoling, Amisha got Simran disentangled, out of The Bishop, and walked her to the shuttle stop. When the white bus pulled up, Simran hugged Amisha, “Night, girl. See you for lunch tomorrow.” The she whispered, “And you better do something naughty with him and tell me all about it.” She waved at them both and got onto the shuttle with marginal difficulty.
As it pulled away, James asked, “Walk you home?”
She nodded. “Why an EMT and PA?” Amisha asked as they set off toward her building.
“My aunt’s a doctor. I used to stay with her in Charlotte in the summer.”
“I’ve got family in Charlotte, too,” Amisha said. It sounded inane to her, but James nodded.
“She’s been saying for years that the cost of Med school and the shit from insurance companies makes the career not worth the trouble. But I want a job helping people with medicine. I looked into nursing school, but being a PA seems like a better fit.” He gave an easy laugh. “I just have to get there.”
“You’ve got the drive,” she said. “Putting up with all those psych classes means you’re determined. Or crazy.”
He gave her that smile she liked. It looked just as good in the streetlights. “And what about you? I’ve been talking all night like a jerk.”
“Oh you’re not a jerk. Psychology because I’m interested in behavior and decision-making, but I didn’t want to be a doctor either. Really upset my father.”
“He’s pretty traditional, I guess?”
“You could say that. I don’t know what the big deal is for him. It’s not like he wanted me to practice medicine. I just had to graduate med school and marry a nice Indian boy.”
“Also a doctor?”
“Preferably, but a good family is more important.”
James whistled. “That’s traditional, all right.”
The walking conversation brought them to Amisha’s building. “This is my stop.”
“Mush easier than getting Simran into that shuttle, and good company, too.” He looked up the empty streets. The traffic lights had all switched to flashing red. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”
Before he could move away, she touched his arm. “You want to come up?” Amisha blurted.
“You sure?”
She was anything but sure, but she liked the look of him and was having fun for the first time in weeks and didn’t want him to leave. “I think I’d like it if you came up for tea or something.”
He gave her a look, his eyes lingering on her curves. “I’m down for that.”
Her heart was pounding as she lead hum up the steps. She hoped he was looking at her ass but was too nervous to turn around to see. She fumbled with her keys as they got to her door. What was she doing? She couldn’t remember if her place was a mess; she’d remembered Simran’s whisper to do something naughty. After putting the key in the lock, she spun around and kissed James hard. It didn’t take long for him to chase her tongue into her mouth as he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
Amisha felt her breasts pressing against him, her nipples hard as she moaned into the kiss before pulling away and saying, “I’m not usually like this.”
His hands were still on her. “Are you drunk?”
“No. Are you?”
He shook his head.
She nodded and kissed him again. Reaching behind her, she eventually opened the door. They stumbled in together. She brushed a light switch and dropped her purse in one motion as James kicked the door closed. Her ass bumped into the couch, and he was on her instantly, his tongue back in her mouth.
She reached for the hem of her shirt when he pulled back and said, “Shit.”
“What?” she gasped, afraid she’d done something to upset him.
“I don’t have a condom.”
Virkam had always worn protection except the few times she’d blown him. She looked at James, panting in her living room. She thought of her father’s eyebrows contracted in disapproval. She heard Simran’s whisper to be naughty. Amisha yanked her shirt over her head. “You can’t finish inside me. Got it?”
Jam nodded, staring at her tits in their lacy bra.
“I mean it. You have to pull out.”
“God, you’re fucking hot. You got it, Amisha. I’ll pull out.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him into the bedroom. She’d left clothes on the floor and the bed unmade, but James didn’t seem to mind.
Amisha wondered what’d come over her with this erotic impulse for a guy her family would never approve of. He had a Chinese hexagram tattooed on his left bicep, and she wondered what it meant while she undid her jeans and stepped out of them. James kissed her hips and belly as she undid her bra and let her breasts tumble free. She gave a yelp of his name as he seized and sucked tem, licking her hard, dark nipples. He groaned and squeezed her tits as he sucked them. She touched his shoulders and chest as he stood; she was firm under her fingers, and it made her wet. James was one of the few people to see her naked, and by the look on his face, he enjoyed the sight of her dusky, desi body. He kept looking at her as he peeled off his jeans and boxer briefs.
At the sight of his dick, Amisha gasped. He was hard, and big and his shaft curved. Even if she’d held onto the base of it, she couldn’t have fit it all in her mouth. She shook her head and felt his hand caressing her long, dark hair. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to.” She was still looking down at his dick. “But you’re really big.”
“You know how to boost a guy’s ego.”
Amisha laughed nervously.
“I’ll go as easy as you want,” he said, pushing his cock against her belly as he moved close. She could feel it throb, and it looked strange, so white and hard pressing against her slightly chubby cafe au lait belly. She sat on the edge of the bed, and then laid back and spread her legs.
James moved between her thighs and touched her pussy. She moaned as he fingered her, testing her wetness and rubbing it on his dick. She reached down to touch it. Together they guided it into her, and with a push from James, half his shaft disappeared into Amisha as she cried out, “Gah-ah!”
He grabbed her hips and asked, “You all right?”
“Yes,” she said, “Ah, yes, just go easy like you said.” She spread wider, hoping it would help. The pressure of James inside her was delicious. She took deep breaths and rocked her hips as he began thrusting, pushing more of himself into her. She moaned as he fit more inside her—one hand on the wooden slats of her headboard, the other clutching at his hexagram tattoo.
When he’d pushed in to his limit, James picked up his pace slightly, keeping a firm grip on her hips as he plunged his length into her over and over. Amisha cried out “Yes” every time, and it felt like his cockhead was tapping the bottom of her lungs. She was so wet and shocked she could take him, working her hips by his lead and squeezing him with her thighs as he fucked her.
His hands moved up her body and groped her breasts. As her hard nipples rubbed his palms, he groaned, “Your breasts. Oh my God, your breasts, Amisha.”
Both her hands gripped her headboard. “You like my big, Indian tits?” She wanted to sounds sexy but thought she sounded on the verge of tears.
James kneaded and played with them, pinching her nipples in time to his penetration. He groaned and squeezed them hard, then shifted his body so only his cockhead remained in her, turned his head and sucked hard on her left nipple. Her nails scratched the headboard as she shouted his name and twisted her body to shove her tit into his face. He suckled hungrily, taking all she offered, letting his tongue and teeth work against her hard, dark nipple.
“There’s more, James,” she cried and shifted her body the other way to tap his face with her right tit, which he grabbed and sucked just as hard. She smiled, thinking Simran would be jealous to know James craved her tits. She gasped as he sucked hard, and when her breasts popped from his mouth, she said, “Fuck me, James. Fuck me with that big dick.”
He obliged, taking hold of her ass in both hands and pumping every inch into her as deep and fast as he could. She could see the muscles in his neck and arms straining as he grunted and pounded her pussy with his engorged cock.
She realized how every thrust made her breasts heave and her pudgy belly sway. “You like thick girls?”
“I like you,” he growled. “You’re body is fucking great.”
She was self-conscious and turned on at the same time. She looked down. His hard, white body on top of her soft coffee and cream one. His muscles working and standing out as her jiggly curves took what he gave, accepting it and turning it into sparks of erotic energy that shot through her. He wanted her body. More than that, he craved it, plunging into her to see her reaction to his lust, watching her bounce at the force of his entry. Her hands gripped the headboard, and her thighs gripped the man. “I like your huge dick. Fuck me with your huge dick.”
He raised himself a bit and plunged hard and fast. Amisha was wetter than she’d ever been, and the pressure of him blew her mind. One of his hands grabbed her belly. Her yelp was lost in his shouting of “Fuck yeah, Amisha. Oh fuck yeah.”
She drooled a little as her breasts heaved and her box spring creaked, and the top of her knocked on the wall. This was the best fuck she’d ever had, not just because James stuffed his enormous cock in her, but because she’d picked this. Her parents had picked Vikram, chosen her college, even selected this apartment for her. But James and his big white dick had been her choice and hers alone. This belonged to her.
“Oh shit,” James shouted, and she thought something was wrong. He pulled out, let his wet length tap against her belly, and came saying, “Amisha, oh fuck, Amisha.” She watched his dick pulse and the cockhead jizz on her chubby belly. He groaned several times as his balls drained into her. She watched open-mouthed, fascinated and turned on. When he finished, Amisha thought it looked like he’d spilled a carton of milk on her. No, milk was too runny. Glue, she thought. Nearly half her belly looked like a bottle of Elmer’s glue had been emptied on it: thick, white, gooey and glistening.
“I didn’t think there’d be so much,” she said. “Um, James, a little help?”
He looked at her and the mess he’d plastered on her belly. “Oh right,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “A towel?”
She nodded. “Under the bathroom sink, please.” She watched his semi-hard cock bounce as he stumbled away and returned her attention to his cumshot. To Amisha, her belly looked like a half-moon: dark on one side and white and shiny on the other. A few runny drops had trickled down her hip and a gob had slid into her belly button. She heard James in the bathroom, and she used a finger to scoop his jizz from her navel and after a moment’s contemplation, lick it up. Amisha shuddered at the pungent, salty taste. The cum stayed on her tongue until after she swallowed several times, feeling its thickness trail down her throat.
James returned and gingerly wiped his cumshot from her. She thanked him in a soft voice as he pulled on his boxer briefs and put the towel on top of her laundry basket. He rejoined her in bed and said, “That was really great. You know how to use your body.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty good with that big dick, too.”
“I know you said your family is traditional and all, but I like you, Amisha, and I hope I can keep seeing you.”
“I don’t want this to be just a hook up either,” she admitted. It felt good to make a choice just for her, and she’d take the consequences knowing the decision was hers. He pulled her close, and Amisha knew she wanted this.
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