“Excuse me?”, I said as if I haven’t heard anything.“So beautiful house you got here”, Rakul said as he sat on the bed.“Hehe, thanks”, I...said nervously.“I love your saree, by the way, Aisha”, he said.“Yeah? It is my husband’s gift for me”, I said proudly.“I feel like I owe you a gift too”, he said winking at me and his one hand on his pant.“Umm okay”, I said sheepishly. As I turned to leave the room, I almost crashed into Aditya, the other friend of my husband.My boobs collided with his body. She is a year and a few months younger than me, and was very much an athlete, everything from field hockey, soccer and tennis, to my favorite gymnastics. From as early as I can remember, she was a gymnast, and obviously, as a red blooded boy, I enjoyed going to her meets, watching all the hotties in tight leotards, bouncing, leaping and bending all around me. Often when we came home, she would remain in her outfit and would stretch and do cartwheels, while I watched and clapped and hid. My fingers traced lightly over her bare inner thigh, and I pushed her dress back further as I rubbed my hand slowly up her thigh, feeling her smooth silky warmth as I moved closer to her pussy. She parted her legs slightly, allowing my hand between her thighs and against her heat radiating under satin panties. I pressed the side of my hand over her panties and felt the warm, damp outline of her moistening lips. Looking straight ahead, she shifted her hips and pushed forward slightly, pressing. An Ass fuck will be worth ten. A pussy fuck will earn you twenty. I’ll come up with the others later. But that’s my offer. You become my sex slave and I’ll supply you with cigarettes.” I offered her. “Go get laid!” she spat at me. I just smiled and pulled out another cigarette. I lit it with a match and wafted it around her face. She reached for it, but before she could I threw it on the floor and stamped it out. “I’m the only way you’ll ever get to smoke any of these anymore.” I flatly told.
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