1 comments/ 20883 views/ 4 favorites Salma's Sexual Evolution By: MYNAMEISPRINCE Dusky Salma Tahira may not be glamorous as often seen in fashion world, but her beauty is more subtle, her dusky looks and large rounded eyes with large irises give her a charming and youthful appearance. She has physical traits of a true feminine beauty; narrow shoulder, small rib cage, narrow waist and big buttocks which give her a feminine softly curved, rounded hourglass figure. She truly epitomizes mystical Indian beauty and a sensual mysterious East. An oriental enigma and an artist dream. She had a calm disposition and simple yet high sense of aesthetics. She was well read and unlike her husband, possessed a college degree. She worked in corporate communication in a multi-national organization. Her knowledge was impeccable in current affairs ,politics,and surprisingly sports, which put her at odds with other women folk and often embarrassing for men who couldn't match up to her in-depth knowledge on cricket which every average Indian men claim to be an expert . She had a deep philosophical mind and preferred intellectual solitude rather than sociable stupidity. Her qualities and talents over a period of time had a detrimental effect on relationships; especially with her husband, who was no match for her intellectually. Also he wasn't successful financially. His life was a failure as he couldn't convert inherited wealth from his father into something substantial. He led a laid back life which ruined his business and relationships. In spite of all the failures in business ventures, he still demanded obedience and respect from his wife and wanted her to be a second fiddle in the relationship which she always chided. He always boasted about his family name and the legacy left by his forefathers who were once aristocrats. He constantly identified with his traditional past which made his views parochial. She was facing a lot of mental turmoil in this difficult relationship. Also she was facing the brunt from hers who had a penchant to defend their son's shortcomings. They would subtly insinuate their son to leave her. And to appease his parents, he turned towards religion. This also helped his standing among his peers and society in general. As the relationship deteriorated, rumors about her were fabricated by her in-laws and their family members. It pertained to her long hours at work and ignoring her family. The rumors were often exaggerated. They always took her success and financial independence with a pinch of salt. She was marginalized for being an independent, individualistic and a successful career woman. She was aggressively targeted for it. The only reason her husband would remain silent about her job is because she was the one supporting her child's education. They had a child who was 10 years old. He was studying in a boarding school. Circumstances forced them to make this decision as the mounting tensions at home and business would otherwise ruin his childhood. Although she tolerated this relationship, her husband would always complain about her successful career. He, at times, coerced her to wear a veil as per the religious tradition, which she strongly resisted as she disliked the Purdah system. However, she still obliged to his demand partially by covering her hair, but gave a stiff resistance to wearing Hijab and Niqab (face cover). Things became worst and her husband's callous attitude persisted. He very often belittled her in front of his friends, who were a group of religious zealots. Religion was the only outlet for his frustration. To justify his often erratic, irrational behavior, religious dogmas proved quite handy. The mental trauma was becoming unbearable and one fine day she called her distant aunt Nafeesa who was a lawyer, an ardent feminist and a women rights activist. She explained her plight and immediately her aunt took control of the situation. Nafeesa was her mother's first cousin, and after Salma's mother passed away she supported her emotionally. Nafeesa was a charming old lady in her mid fifties; she's been in pretty good shape looked almost 10 years younger than her actual biological age. She was fair slim, had a bob cut, confident and was vocal when it came to woman's issues. She was an extrovert and her social circle consisted of rich bureaucrats, politicians and famous personalities. Most of them belonged to affluent upper strata of the society. Her political inclination was liberal leftist. It was quite ironic of her to sometimes openly ridicule capitalism in front of her rich elite group. Her husband was a broad minded educated person but very different from her in ideology. Nafeesa's intervention was intimidating to Salma'ss and husband as she belonged to legal profession. They couldn't stand up to her towering personality. And very soon it was evident that their obtuse approach might get them in legal trouble. The only solution was a divorce. Salma was desperate for a divorce however the only thing that worried her was her son Kashif. The divorce didn't take much time and with it, custody of her son was handed to Salma. Her husband was unemployed and in no position to take care of him. It took few weeks for Salma to come out of the traumatic marriage. Meanwhile she moved to an apartment which virtually belonged to her. The real owners were Nafeesa and her husband and since they were childless, regarded her as a daughter. So she almost inherited the apartment. It was a two bedroom apartment on the ground floor. The place was very lively and most of the people around were educated and belonged to rich families. It was located in a prime zone and outside the colony there were malls, pubs and a vibrant night life. However,the colony remained quite peaceful . There were hardly any women in veil and covered head, which was a common sight where she lived in the past. She found the people quite amiable when compared to what she experienced in the past. There were plenty of retired lawyers and teachers who lived in the same building where she resided. In the center of the colony, there was a huge banyan tree which almost covered the ground. It provided lots of shade and cover in scorching summer heat. Under the tree there was some seating arrangement. Every day in the evenings, the retired teachers and lawyers would gather and tirelessly discuss various issues related to society, politics and religion. There were a couple of stodgy old gentlemen who often joined the discussion and constantly cribbed about the younger generation. How they have transgressed from tradition, morality and religion and how western culture has corrupted their minds. They would never tolerate a woman in any skimpy western outfit. It was quite surprising that they found Saris traditional. However, one of her neighbors, a gentleman with a quaint sense of humor, would always put them down. He was a retired teacher who lived with his wife and eccentric son. His name was Kumar and he lived opposite to her apartment. It was a kind of a solitary life for her which is something she always craved. She was a virgin when her marriage took place at the age of 20. It was an arranged marriage where she had no say in it. She was quite deferential to her parents authority. It was her father's choice to marry her off to an aristocratic family. Salma has turned 30 and since her marriage, she's never been in any kind of affair. Her sexual life was dull with an unimaginative, boring husband. However, the new found freedom and the congenial atmosphere around has instilled confidence and fearlessness to bear what was ugly about herself. To look bravely into her true drives and desires was slowly emerging. She learned so much about herself and about things long buried and denied. It freed her to make bold choices that previously were not even acknowledged as choices. Divorce made it possible to integrate with her femininity and sensuality. She is now happier. And the best part is she didn't have to fuck around to get there. The liberating atmosphere around allowed her to come out of her demureness. She could now move out freely without any restriction and more importantly, dress up the way she wants. It was time for her to abandon the idea of covering hair with the Dupata, a restriction imposed by religion. She could now wear jeans, t-shirts and occasionally skirts. The tight jeans and t-shirt enhanced her feminine beauty and her big butt and boobs became a part of young men gossip. She loved wearing the Shawar Kameez which were also revealing. Mostly cut sleeves, short Kurta, and at times she was bold enough to wear deep neck Salwar Kameez, which often exposed her cleavage. This bold move at times attracted unwanted attention and occasional negative remarks from stodgy old gentleman. However, she had the gumption to deal with such situation so that never bothered her. Besides there were plenty of women around, some of them married, who wore much skimpier clothes than her. She never socialized much at work or with people in the colony. However, there was couple of people who were quite friendly to her. One was Sonia Sharma who lived in the opposite building. She was a Punjabi big beautiful woman, an interior designer by profession and her husband, an I. T. professional. She was an extrovert and very charismatic, a bomb in her mid thirties who often wore the most revealing and skimpiest outfit. The couple was into open marriage. Sonia's husband was a cuckold. She had a few paramours but never got involved with anyone around the colony. It was wise to keep such things discreet, especially something related to sex. Most of her liaisons were behind the closed doors of her apartment. It was an understanding between the couple as involving neighbors can bring infamy no matter how liberated the atmosphere was around the colony, open marriage was still a taboo. On the other hand they were quite choosy and most of the time Sonia's lover would be in their early twenties. Next friend was Nitin with whom she often exchanged pleasantries. Nitin was in his early thirties. He was Mr. Kumar's son and he always supported her liberal claims in those evening debates. Nitin was often unshaved and with his dark complexion and long curly hair, gave him a hippy look or sometimes in traditional outfit he would look like a mystic. He had a master's degree in philosophy and used to teach as a junior lecturer in a reputed college but soon rusticated and was incarcerated temporarily after he made some sexual advances toward a female colleague. It was construed as sexual assault. Later it was found that he was innocent. He was eccentric, at times an ill mannered and unconventional maverick, but quite interesting and a fascinating conversationalist. All in all, he was a charming bad man with an intriguing dark side. Decent middle class people often avoided him as he was sometimes high on cocaine and weed. Salma resisted and showed an implacable attitude whenever he tried to be overly friendly, but she secretly loved his unconventional habits and his dark sense of humor which had an undertone of sensuality to it. There was a weird deviation about Nitin that Salma discovered one day. She was enjoying her solitary weekend as it had been a toiling week for her . The week passed in making presentations and client meetings. That made her extend her shifts and always got back home at unearthly hours. Weekends were something that she eagerly waiting for. It was one usual winter morning that she got up around 7 and finished her yoga exercise and went to the kitchen. The kitchen was situated looking onto a narrow lane which was usually isolated. Occasionally the gatekeeper and a rickshaw puller would hang around to smoke Bidi in that narrow lane. The branches of the banyan tree were spread out over the lane. It provided shade to the narrow lane and also provided privacy to her. But she could see everything that happens in the lane from the window of the kitchen. When she entered the kitchen the window below the exhaust fan was slightly open. She opened it a little more and there was a gush of cool breeze on her face. It made her open it a little more the and the cool breeze started passing through her; seducing her virgin body, which hadn't been touch by a men for a long time. It was a wonderful experience and as she was enjoying the cool breeze, suddenly Nitin entered the lane. She almost attempted to greet him but resisted as it was strange to see him at this place. Nitin pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. It was apparent that he wanted to smoke a cigarette but why in secrecy, she wondered. He was a maverick who never cared about society and convention so why did he choose this secret location to smoke a cigarette. The partial open windows hid her enough so that no one outside could see her. This gave her the additional advantage to watch any activity happening outside. As he started smoking the smell of the smoke wasn't of a cigarette and there was no second guesses that he was smoking marijuana. She recognized the smell because some of her colleagues at work smoked marijuana. Nitin was hardly eight to ten steps away from the window. She left the place and started preparing breakfast. After breakfast, she again went towards the window and peeped outside out of curiosity to see if Nitin was still there and to her shock, he was peeing with his back towards the wall by lowering his pant and underwear below the waist, exposing his flaccid dick. She felt flabbergasted and the act was nothing short of an aberration. She quickly closed the window and turned back closing her eyes feeling guilty and disgusted. This was bizarre and shocking for her and quite a strange thing to see an uncircumcised penis. Her sexual experience so far has been limited to a circumcised penis with her ex husband. This was a new experience and after the initial shock, a strange feeling of nervous energy penetrated inside her. Her heart was beating faster and was quite audible for her to listen to the beats. Carnal desire soon superseded the initial guilt and disgust and, unable to withstand the temptation, slowly opened the window partially and this time to her amazement Nitin's back side was resting towards the wall with his legs spread playing with his flaccid dick. This brazen act made her heart beat faster and her body accumulating more nervous energy and was forcing her to shed the naïveté'. She always thought about the funny bulges in front of men's tight pants. It made her feel excited whenever she felt her skimpy dressing was the reason behind the bulge. And while watching Nitin play with his uncircumcised cock, slowly trying to get it to full erection, she wondered why society considered a naked male not as interesting as a naked female. Why should tits and a pussy be any more beautiful than man's buttocks or cock? Maybe women are culturally conditioned to deny their sexual feelings . She got glued in watching him play as steadily he brought his flaccid dick to full erection. It was a decent size and very thick. She felt a strange attraction towards the foreskin covering the entire gland and the way he was rocking it. He fully pulled back the foreskin until the Glans was exposed and kept his foreskin retracted at all times. Without touching the Glans, he rocked the foreskin back and forth at the base of the penis, only not allowing it to move over the Glans. There was a slight presence of hair and some hair on his balls, which was now visible as his dick was rock hard and directed upward like a tent-pole. It was poking out beneath his shirt and at times exposed his balls. After some time, he dropped his pant below his knees. She was thrilled to see the entire bottom of his thighs which seem well toned and with some hairs on groin region. His belly region was in good shape. There was no sign of fat around the belly region. She was watching and examining every part of his bottom, every curve and getting extremely horny wondering how he would react if he found out that she was watching. The real attraction was his dick and the way he was playing with it like a flute. Everything was getting hotter; things were getting out of control. She never expected this kind of weird exhibitionist tendency from Nitin and the masturbation at places where there was a fair chance to get caught. She had to agree what other women had told her about Nitin and his perversions. But this time she was loving the show and everything around was an ideal setup. His perversion had now turned into her pleasure. He was now the object of her desire and never had she felt so horny before. The initial disgust and guilt has slowly faded. Although what Nitin was doing was in conflict with her aesthetic sensibility, this show was a liberating effect and taking her out of self imposed inhibition. It also absolved her of the guilt and restriction imposed by society and religion. Maybe the liberation had come a little late, but she was enjoying the moment like an adolescent teenager. The uncircumcised dick became the object of desire she was desperate to have. She fantasized about putting it in her mouth and cunt. It seemed so close but still far, which was disappointing. To overcome her frustration and the lack of opportunity to get what she wanted and with the uncontrollable sexual urge, she started rubbing her pussy from outside of her tracksuit. She was wearing a white Adidas tracksuit and with her tracks on, started rubbing her pussy from outside. The rubbing continued for half a minute. Meanwhile, Nitin started stroking his dick faster. She kept looking at it and getting excited too. She removed her track pants exposing her pink underwear and started rubbing her clit slowly from outside using her index finger. She then unzipped her track shirt and removed it followed by removing her white sport bra exposing her big round boobs. She then started playing with her boobs cuddling one after the other using her left hand and rubbing her clit parallel using three fingers through her underwear. The gorgeous dusky beauty of the East is now in no fear of participating in sinful activities for fear of going to hell. Almost naked and with small rays of sun beaming down through the partially open window on her naked body and with only underwear on she cuddled her boobs. She felt a cooling on her hot breast. As she touched her quickly responding nipples, she could feel her whole body tickle. Simultaneously rubbing her clit from outside of her underwear using her right hand, her pelvis started moving involuntarily and her breast nipples got taut and pointing. Nitin, on the other hand had his eyes closed, maybe he was controlling himself from cumming. And she didn't want this to happen either. The longer he continues the better for her to enjoy watching his naked body. The more she watched him masturbate, the more she started moving her hand and this time inside her underwear; caressing and rubbing her wet cunt. She loved the sound of the "wetness"-that squishy sound. She was just fucking herself with fingers along with a bit of voyeurism. The fingering became vigorous at times and her entire palm immersed inside her underwear dragging her underwear below. Meanwhile Nitin was on a verge of climax as his stroking was getting faster. Salma removed her underwear and this time spread her legs by holding her left thigh with her left hand and fingering her clit with her middle finger of her right hand and breathing heavily at the same time. She then went back to rubbing her boobs. As she started rubbing her clit more vigorously, so did her moaning became slightly louder. She was in a state of ecstasy and almost lost touch of reality, transcending the mundane world of morality. Her deep yearnings and dark desires were slowly unveiling. To see a naked man masturbating while she herself was masturbating was an ultimate moment. Even guilt, the great deterrent in reality, became her sexual partner in this act of masturbation. All the while she was bringing herself to the throes of orgasm. Her fantasy of an impending arrival of Nitin who would find her, catch her, see her drove her. The crash of orgasm came while she was in her fantasy with Nitin. Her loud moaning, which could now be heard by anyone outside vibrated off the kitchen walls. As she climaxed and was coming back to her normal state she was shocked to see herself in this state as remembered the series of events that took place. Salma's Sexual Evolution Continues This story is a continuation from "Salma's sexual evolution". * The effect Nitin left on Salma was indeed deep and had a profound influence on her sexuality. The cloud of demureness; eventually subsided. The traces of guilt left after the eventful episode; soon disappeared. Her mind became clear but temptation remained whenever she saw Nitin, and in spite of the temptation she still remained taciturn towards him. This kind of conservative view on sex might be depriving her of any meaningful relationship, but deep down the dark side needed a trigger to be unleashed. It almost happened the morning when she secretly saw Nitin masturbate in the narrow lane from the kitchen window. The episode was over but it gave the necessary kick to her dark side that would soon bring her in conflict with her aesthetic sensibility. In one way, he triggered her wild fantasy in another, it debased her impression about him. Such an act would disgust her in any normal circumstances. The conflict she was feeling needed serious contemplation, and every decision she maked would have a long term impact on her self image. This indecisiveness was similar to how she felt initially when she broke away from religion and tradition, and started living independently. Wearing whatever she wanted. Her sexual instinct was in conflict with her upbringing. This dichotomy was taking her towards unnecessary guilt trips. After a good thought, the only remedy was to talk to her fast friend Sonia Sharma. Sonia's open marriage was going smooth, she got a new fuck-buddy who was an artist, and a college drop-out. Her husband was relocated to a different branch, in another city by his company, for couple of months to work on an important project. They would meet once a week, depending on their schedules. It was not easy for Sonia to take timeaway, as her interior decoration business kept her busy. Sonia's friends and acquaintances were limited to few like-minded individuals with taste, class and aesthetics. She deliberately avoided the company of narrow-minded and traditional people, which also included her parents ands. The entire open marriage thing would bring ignominy as it was in direct conflict with the existing mainstream belief. So only a clandestine approach towards her ultra liberal views would safeguard her marriage and reputation. One fine day, she casually went to her apartment. Sonia was relishing a veggie sandwich with a glass of wine and her lover holding her from behind in a loving clasp; comfortably placed on the sofa. Sonia was in a pink V-neck nightgown with cut sleeves revealing the sign of Oum tattoo on the right arm, nothing religious, just a fashion symbol. Salma was in traditional, Muslim attire a Salwar kameez. Somewhere during the conversation, the topic of Nitin appeared. Sonia had revulsion towards Nitin because of his murky reputation. Salma never challenged her opinion and played it safe never to let Sonia find out her intentions. Sonia started a spree of ranting against Nitin . The character assassination continued for a couple of hours. She was quite animated and disgusted to even speak about him. For some time, it seemed like she almost lost touch of her dear host and the never-ending mudslinging would continue for eternity. Finally, when she halted, Salma was having all sorts of mixed feelings. Strange, Sonia never asked her, in the heat of moment, why she wanted to enquire about him when his reputation was murky. Finally, when Sonia probed to find her intention, Salma candidly stated that she was interested in his ideas and loved his rhetoric, finding him intellectual and eccentric. However, she never showed any sign of romantic interest. Well, she got a clear warning from Sonia not to get involved with Nitin and never to break the cardinal rule of getting into relationships with anyone living in neighborhood. Sonia was like her sister, and quite protective towards her, and the instruction had some wisdom because getting into a relationship while living in the colony would attract unnecessary, unwanted attention. It would give rise to gossip and living alone would not help her cause. The suggestion was to look for lovers outside the neighborhood. Perplexed with her extreme reaction, she returned to her apartment contemplating whatever Sonia had said. She wondered; could it be out of Sonia's own prejudice? Well, she loved Sonia and had plenty of respect for her. Her sound reasoning and lucid explanations were always convincing. She admired Sonia's independent mind and the way she balanced her deviant lifestyle with societal norms and expectations. Sonia was way past getting labelled as prude. Nor could she be considered an absolute slut. Salma needed to balance things out, although her attire and outlook had changed incredibly. She wore all sorts of skimpy outfits, but still seemed to be drowning in the abyss of obscurity when it came to her own sexuality. She loved the attention and never felt embarrassed if strangers drooled over her body when she was in skimpy outfit. On certain occasions, it was quite a thrilling experience for her. There was a tease in her, desperate to be unleashed. The city she in which she lived had changed considerably, people's out-look had changed. However, there was still a struggle between modernity, tradition, religion and secularism. Although she could go to places semi-nude, with Sonia, traditionalists would still stigmatize her and even liberals were of no help, often shocked when they would come to know her Muslim name. Time was ripe, all it required was a shift in the value system. It has been quite a long time since she was divorced and a single mother. She never got into any meaningful relationships after her divorce. Indian subcontinent winters are great. It is as good as springtime. The afternoons are slightly warm. The weather is balmy. Warm daylight remains until evening. One Thursday afternoon, she returned home by twelve noon from work, lazing around for a while reading the newspaper and fashion tabloids until 1pm. She dozed off, waking at one-thirty. It was still quite sunny outside. She went to the washroom for a leak and then splashed water on her face to refresh herself. She then decided to visit Sonia, maybe they might go to a pub. She walked towards her bedroom and turned on the light. While looking at herself in the mirror, she thought how garish the dress looked, with all those deep gaudy designs on the salwar. She stripped off the Salwar and pajamas that would abandon her reserved, traditional demeanor, and padded across the bedroom in a black push-up bra and string, jockey underwear. She was in her early-thirties and in great shape. Her apple-bottom butt was firm and round and her boobs were supple, well-toned. The nipples were dark pointed upward, a nice contrast with her whitish complexion. She was blessed with a great body, nothing needs to be hidden or enhanced since her shape was already in proportion and she could pull off just about any dress. It was a good time to wear something skimpy because most of the people would be at work or relaxing in their apartments, not many ogling eyes around the colony. Although, she did not mind it, sometimes it could be annoying. She pulled out a tailored, black mini-skirt from her wardrobe. When she put on the skirt, it held tight around her hips, accentuating her curves. The skirt finished slightly high, above her knees and loose towards the thighs. It would turn plenty of heads. She then wore a black deep V-neck wrap top. By any standard, she was dressed sexily. The devilish idea of removing her string jockey underwear came to her mind, but she decided against going commando. She was about to wear flat, buckle shoes when suddenly the doorbell rang. She rushed towards the door and saw through the peephole that it was Kareem, the postman smirking. It had almost vanished from her memory that she had subscribed for a women's magazine. Slowly and sluggishly, she opened the door. Kareem's smile soon turned into astonishment when he saw her in miniskirt. Kareem always delayed when delivering anything to her and that was annoying. Kareem was tall, handsome in his early 20's with a fair complexion, and a Caucasian look. Everyone knew him well in the colony, because he'd been delivering post for long time. Salma was secretly fond of him. She was almost petrified to see Kareem at the door. However, after the initial astonishment, he somehow tried to lighten up things a little bit, and facetiously said, "You must be in a hurry, madam." While giving the magazine he said, "five hundred Rupees for 6 month's subscription". Well, all she had was thousand rupee notes. He had no change either. All he had left was a few coins and ten rupee notes. "Not to worry", he said with a grin, and rushed to fetch some change. Whew! That gave her a breather. It would take at least 5-10 min to fetch some change, until then she could plan something. This was a sudden jolt. It took two minutes for her to gather some thoughts and come up with something naughty, which should be subtle and subliminal. However, she decided to go with the flow, and let things be spontaneous. Kareem was surprised. The attire she was in definitely must have tantalized this handsome, young lad. The door remained open; Salma was sitting on the sofa with her legs locked revealing a good view of her thighs, and slightly exposing the inner-thigh with her skirt slightly lifted upwards. She was glancing over the magazine and a list of other magazines to which she could subscribe, eagerly waiting for Kareem. She kept her left foot on the sofa while reading the magazine when suddenly Kareem entered. The raising of her foot caused her skirt to ride up as well, and he got a good view of her undies. The skirt slid slightly higher, along the top of her thigh and revealed the censored area of her black string jockey underwear that was tight against her pussy; it must have clearly revealed her bikini line. Kareem was dumbstruck to get a peek of the scandalous region. It was definitely luckiest day of his life. He could never have dreamed to get an inside view of her skirt. It definitely had a surreal effect on him. For few seconds, Salma was engrossed in the magazine not noticing Kareem. Kareem meanwhile had a good look of the scandalous region. Then, he knocked at the door. Salma quickly adjusted her legs, looking confused. She never expected him that early and was deeply engrossed in the magazine. She had all sorts of mixed feelings, mostly confusion. That must be very kinky, she thought. Wondering what he must have seen. She was extremely confident of the fact that he had a good look of her underwear. She adjusted her skirt and maintained her composure. Kareem pulled out the remaining five hundred rupees. He seemed quite exhilarated. Never had he shown much interest in her until she came out, skimpily dressed. Kareem always saw her in traditional or professional attire. Her impression on him was more of that uptight professional woman. Now, that impression had completely changed. Kareem showed more excitement; now went out of his way to help her, suggested other magazines for subscription, which he would normally avoid. It wasn't even a part of his job as a postman. It was an addition duty out of goodwill. Salma was overwhelmed with the kind of attention she was receiving, and she felt empowered because of his sudden burst of excitement, which was obvious. His suggestions were naïve but still she loved the active attention. She checked the list, and decided against any further subscriptions. They were too creepy and shallow for her taste. He then sat on the opposite sofa and pulled out another list. Well, he seemed to be going out of his way now. Salma had her charm working on him. While he pulled out the list, she bend down in front of him to pick up the pages, flashing that wonderful cleavage, giving a clear view of her black push-up bra. She then sat back and lifted her leg straight out in front of her. It seemed as if she didn't care, or maybe was ignorant to the fact that Kareem was able to look directly up her skirt, at her pussy, pressed against those panties. He could even see the outline of the lips, and was completely mesmerized. He tried to regain composure and struggled to pretend that he hadn't noticed anything. She was conscious of the fact that she was flashing, and was thrilled about it. She had a good look at the list, and decided to go for a sports magazine. Salma loved cricket and tennis. This was quite surprising for him. Not many women that he knew would normally opt for a sports magazine. However, Salma loved non-fiction and sports stuff. Sports magazines were ridiculously cheap. She decided for an annual subscription of Sports Star. This would cost only two hundred rupees. She got up to fetch the money, parting her legs just a tiny bit, once again giving a perfect view of her panties under her skirt. It was a little dark but he was able to see the dark, jockey underwear again. She went to her room to fetch some money, completely turning him on by allowing him to peek up her skirt, and she loved that confused look on his face. He couldn't get the image of her crotch out of his mind. Was she fucking with him or was she flashing him? Meanwhile, she was looking for hundred rupee notes and found a couple of notes in an old drawer. When she was about to go, the devilish idea of removing her jockey again flashed in her mind. Without a second thought, she removed her undies and headed straight to the hall. This should be fun, she thought. She was excited and wondered how Kareem would react if he would get to see the most forbidden area. Her heart was racing and there was a subtle wetness between her legs. She rushed towards the sitting room and while sitting on the sofa made half-twirl, which gently lifted her skirt. This got the skirt entangled and lifted it higher above the knee while seated. She placed her legs close, touching each other, and placed her hand on the tiny opening. Meanwhile, Kareem was filling in the subscription details and stealing glances. He was fumbling and giving incorrect details related to the subscription. It wasn't his mistake, of course. She made sure not to show him too soon and wanted to create more tension, enjoying the nervousness that Kareem showed, adding more to her own excitement. Kareem kept waiting expectantly for the golden moment, he seemed to be quite desperate to get a peek again, but Salma kept him waited. To add to his disappointment, she carefully and deliberately locked her legs. This gave a good view of her knees and inner thighs. He kept stealing glances at them. Once he finished the subscription formalities, Salma gave him her two hundred rupee notes. Kareem took the money and quickly got up. Not expecting any more show, he stopped for a moment and asked for a glass of water. That was a good way to buy some time. She went to fetch a glass of water. For her, nothing could beat the thrill of teasing him, and this time she thought of doing something shocking and kinky. She gave him a glass of water and he quickly started gulping it, making sounds. His mouth seemed dry. Salma sat on the sofa again, this time carefully placing her left leg on right one and locked them. This was making things difficult however, by this time, Kareem lost hope of any further peek. When he bend down to adjust his shoes; Salma, pretending to read the magazine by placing it in front of her face, slowly shifted her leg, making a very tiny space for viewing but nothing was clear through it. That rekindled his hope and made him excited. She then slowly lifted her leg to lock it again, this time giving a split-second glimpse of the forbidden region. That was an unexpected jolt. He was in complete disbelieve as to what he saw. She started turning the pages and ignoring Kareem. Once again, she lifted her leg slightly; to unlock, this time he had a good view of her pussy. She then steadily parted her legs giving a good view of that danger zone, spreading her legs. Kareem got the ultimate view of her pussy. Her vagina was partly shaved on the bottom around her brown labia, but unshaved from her clit upward, revealing a rich, but perfectly shaped dark bush of oriental pubic hair. It just looked adorable and got Kareem aroused. There was a nice bulge in his trousers by now. She observed from the corner of her eye that his eyes dropped to her exposed pussy, which was blatantly there for him to see. She didn't bother to cover this time and decided to give him a good show. She felt hot about it, and it was an instant turn-on for her. He gazed at her pussy, with wonder, for some time. This was, indeed, the best day of his life. He slowly left the place, pretending not to have seen anything, a big, stupid grin on his face. She didn't leave anything for his imagination. The show was subtle and neat. The poor boy would have plenty of wanks, thinking about her pussy. She closed the door after he left and kept recollecting the event. Every time the thought came, she felt thrilled; the very idea of exposing her pussy was driving her wild. She was delighted to have executed her fantasy to perfection. She gave a buzz to Sonia and there was no reply. It was just a 5 min walk from her apartment so she decided to make a move. It was quite a sunny day outside. The colony has a deserted look during those business hours. When she reached B-block, she saw a couple of college boys pause in their conversation and cast an admiring glance. Enjoying the attention, she moved nonchalantly and slowly, feeling good. Their gaze was more out of genuine admiration. It never purported any vulgarity, which really helped her confidence. The boys must be in their late teens. She took a gentle step when suddenly a piece of sticky chewing gum stuck on her sandal, which disgusted her. Well, she wanted to get rid of it. Those college boys were still staring at her. She then realized that she was all commando and forgot to put on her underwear. It was too late. She tried to remove the chewing gum by rubbing her sandal against the ground, but that did not work. She wanted to get rid of it permanently by rubbing against the water pipe running through the building. This would look awkward but she was desperate to get rid of it. She sat on the pipe lifted her knee to remove the sandal first, that lifted her skirt up good enough to expose her pussy again; the boys had a terrific view of her hairy pussy. Their jaws dropped in awe. They couldn't believe their luck. Her nipples tingled as she imagined those two chaps who sneaked a peek at her pussy. She felt jubilant showing herself off. She took her time to remove the chewing gum left over by rubbing hard against the pipe. Meanwhile, their eyes remained glued to her hairy pussy. She then sashayed past them, and they kept staring at her until she was invisible to them. It was strange that they did not go after her. In no time, she reached Sonia's place. Sonia was suffering from bad cold. She was surprised to see her in this outfit after a long time. "You must be having a great time", she said with a smile. Salma was having a great day so far. It was quite an eventful afternoon. She didn't want to reveal the sleazy incidents that had happened so far. Sonia's sickness meant no night-out at a pub. That made her undecided and slightly disappointed. She walked out of her place wondering where to go. Well, library would be an ideal place. However, this outfit would definitely shock those geeks and intellectuals who normally hang out there. There was a library inside the colony build by Professor Gordon. Professor Gordon was an Anglo Indian and a former school principal. He had a diverse collection of books and magazines ranging from various subjects. Fifteen years ago he separated form his wife. He often visits England to meet his daughter and grandchildren. He lives alone and only interacts with his close intellectual group. Professor Gordon is fair and tall in his mid 50's. Salma's Sexual Evolution Continues This time of the year, he was in England. Under his absence, the members who are also part of his vox populi group, manage the library, an orators club started by him a decade ago. The books in the library ranged from any subject one could imagine under the sun like Fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, and psychology, Sociology, Anthropology, and Classics, etc. She headed towards the library, which took 2-3 min to reach. When she finally entered the library, the old man at the checkout gave her a weird look. She looked more like a party animal than those regular geeks. However, there wasn't any specific dress code at the library. The library is mostly open until midnight. Most of the people who hang around after 9:00pm are the intellectual zombies. It was Thursday and the vox populi was about to begin. The library was virtually empty, with a couple of women engrossed in reading and giving her those weird looks. She displayed her membership card and directly headed towards her favorite section, Feminism. Salma wasn't a feminist but she was interested in women-related issues. It was a pretty conservative atmosphere inside the library, it almost seemed like the old Victorian style of interiors. There was a beautifully designed rug spread across the floor and around three or four low-seated nursing chairs in the corner, placed before the coffee table. The coffee table appeared to have been made in England during the late Victorian era. There were plenty of chairs placed near the bookshelves to create a reading area. The windowpanes had stained glasses mounted. There was a boardroom on the next floor where the vox-populi sessions took place. The library still possessed the aura of the bygone British Raj. Professor Gordon inherited a lot from his ancestors, both culturally and materially. His great-grandfather was a British officer stationed in the Sec'bad cantonment area. The place was then under the Nizams, who always maintained their sovereignty because of their close alliance with British Raj. Salma pulled out a book by the name "Post colonial critique" from the shelve written by Gayatri Spivak, who was a postcolonial Marxist --Feminist. It was quite ironic to find a book on Post colonialism in these settings, which resonated a colonial past. She then sat on one of those draped chairs. Slowly, Vox populi members started entering. Some newcomers gave her a weird look while passing by. The old members ignored her. It was more of an intellectual pursuit for them. It was half past five, Salma was engrossed in the book, and the session at vox populi started. At 6:00pm, Nitin walked in. That made her nervous. He squeamishly looked at her, greeted her, and quickly went to the first floor to attend the meeting. This was strange, she never knew that Nitin was a part of vox populi. The image of his naked body and exposed erection was fresh in her memory. With in half an hour, he again walked down and left the library for a smoke. When he entered again, this time, he walked towards her. This made her apprehensive. He looked quite rustic with those long curly hairs spread across his forehead. He greeted her again and said, "How you doing? Which book are you reading?" She shifted her position with smile on her face, slightly moving towards the right; locking her legs replied, "Post colonial critique". He then sat beside her. Well, being a former professor of philosophy and a maverick got him interested in the subject; and off course her dress, but somehow he had a different view on colonial British Raj. Nitin never considered British Raj to be a bane as it really facilitated in removing the caste system, and shattered the upper caste hegemony. This irked Salma, as she was quite liberal and never had any negativity towards upper caste Hindu. Many of her close associates were Brahmins and her good friend Sonia was a Punjabi Brahmin. None of them had any sort of caste superiority. They were quite enlightened and critical of any right-wing agenda. "Caste system still exists", he said with a grave look on his face. He then narrated his sordid tale of discrimination and marginalization. Coming from a lower caste Dalit family, he faced discrimination from his colleagues when he joined as a lecturer of philosophy. The head of the department was a Brahmin with intense caste feeling and he was responsible for his rustication. He was quite instrumental in getting him booked by police for seducing an upper caste Brahmin girl who was a student, in spite of the fact that the relationship was consensual. He then narrated the humiliation he faced by police and how his parents faced discrimination by some upper caste people living in his neighborhood. He was beaten and verbally abused. Professor Gordon rescued him, the only messiah who injected in him the much-required self-esteem and helped him to come out of the victim mentality. Salma felt apologetic for her ignorance and never had she thought that there was this undercurrent of caste-based discrimination involved. She felt bad and disgusted. It was obvious why he was so vindictive towards upper caste. The incident he narrated was enough to redeem himself. Truth disarmed her of inhibition. She was quite open to discussing anything with him now. Her perception changed. Everything about morality seemed like a social construct. She could now empathize with him, as she was a victim of marginalization from her ex husband'ss. They tried to force religion, custom, and dress code but she was able to emancipate herself from all the dogmas imposed by theocratic culture. After her divorce, she turned more spiritual and less religious. Salma was getting sporadic attention from a couple of members while everyone around was dutifully minding their business. However, the conversation would never disturb or distract anyone around. One Anglo Indian woman at the canteen counter would occasionally eavesdrop. She glanced at Nitin and noticed that he was taking sly looks checking out her legs and thighs. The black mini-skirt was loose at the thigh. Anyone from the opposite end could easily get a peek of her inner thigh. Any shift in position would expose the danger zone. She kept her legs locked, guarding the forbidden area. Nitin was sitting beside her. She crouched low, which slightly lifted her skirt, exposing a good amount of thigh and giving a good view of her cleavage. He was paying more and more attention to her legs and thighs and she was enjoying the attention, not bothered. He then offered her a cup of coffee, which she gleefully accepted. They made their way towards the coffee table. She felt slightly hesitant to sit on those low nursing chairs. It would be a little difficult to adjust her skirt. He got some coffee and she sat with her legs stretched forward and crossed while seated on the low chair. She leaned forward to get the cup, which rode her skirt up exposing quite a bit of thigh. She was thrilled as he was trying to sneak a peek without getting caught. The bulge was clearly visible from his tight jeans. She uncrossed her leg while easing forward, knowing very well that her skirt would ride up. She pulled her legs back making a tiny space between her knees. It was evident from his flushed cheeks that he got a glimpse of her dark bush this time. No one was watching her and even if they did, she wouldn't have been bothered. She kept thinking of Nitin and his exposed dick, which she saw a couple of weeks ago. The masturbation episode was indeed getting her hot. It rekindled her memory and felt the same nervous energy penetrating her body when she saw him masturbate in the narrow lane from the kitchen window. This time, she was merely returning the favor. Nitin, on the other hand, was delighted to get a view of that hairy pussy. His perception about her being an uptight girl changed radically. He always had an image about her like those of an art movie parallel cinema actress. This slutty side of her was a revelation. They returned to their original place after finishing the coffee. Nitin rushed to the club, stating that he had to give oath to a new member. In 15 min, he inaugurated the new member, which ended the session, and all the members of vox populi were leaving one by one. The meeting room was empty in no time. It wasn't a regular meeting, only board members meeting to decide potential members with good oratory skills. When every member left, he again returned to Salma. She immediately asked him about vox populi. Nitin gave a detailed explanation of this place. The objective was to forward an individual's intellectuality. Every Sunday, people from all occupations come and meet to talk, debate, discuss, about various events happening around. The discourse included subjects as diverse as currents affairs, history, academics, economics, literature and, of course, philosophy. He then said that she would love this place and poked her saying that she would look hot at the podium in a miniskirt, a real turn on for the geeks. This time she was sporting. With a naughty smile on her face, she said, "It would unnecessarily jeopardize the session, and I don't want to be the reason." Nitin reacted, stating that it would rather be an impetus for the new comers to visit more and be regular to the club. She replied acrimoniously stating that, she did not want to be a sexual object, and let the geeks find someone else. Salma was no more a novice, she knew the power of being a discreet flirt, and a selective exhibitionist. She chooses her targets carefully. Nitin apologized to her, and they resumed their normal conversation. It was almost seven-thirty in the evening and the temperature was dropping, it was getting slightly cold and windy outside. There were chances of a power cut. Salma found the book quite interesting at the same time complicated with plenty of philosophical jargon and she wanted to take it home. Nitin, on the other hand, was once again searching for a topic to discuss, and he asked about her Islamic identity and the challenges she is facing being a liberal Muslim women. This time he hit the nail on the head; it was an identity issue for Salma. She then spoke of her married life, and how her rich husband turned into a fanatic who started coercing her to follow religion and wear veil. He then asked her opinion on Hijab. Her views on dress code were clear. It was Pro-choice. Let the woman decide what she wants to wear. She hated objectification and being a sexual object for men's pleasure. She loved the attention but hated men who tease and pass lurid comments on girls in skimpy dresses. People who are against hijab are as much wrong as the traditionalists who impose Hijab. They are two extremes. She then stated that wearing Hijab does not make a woman purer or any better than the one who wear miniskirt, and Muslim women want to be left alone, they have recently been dragged into unnecessary controversy and debates related to Hijab, modernity and religious extremism. The so-called liberals and secularist are of no help. No dissent is allowed from the women's end, and the so-called liberals are too politically correct, which tends to favor the religious zealots. Her message was crystal clear. She didn't want to be labelled as a rebel who defied her religious identity. It was a choice that she made to break away from organized religion and carve her own destiny. She didn't want to impose her views on other women. He then asked why women should cover themselves and wear loose garment like Hijab? She gave a detailed explanation that clothes are worn as the climate at that certain place at that certain point demands it. The long flowing robes are the need of living in the desert. They shield the skin from the sun and allow air to reach the body. They are loose fitting to prevent immediate sweat evaporation so that the body does not dehydrate quickly in the very dry air. Covering the face in desert gives protection from sun and keeps the sand out of the mouth. The same clothes also keep the people warm at night and in winter in desert. Nitin was impressed with her rational explanation. That removed many misconceptions on Muslim women and their attires. She was enjoying the conversation. He was probably the first person, in many years, who asked some relevant questions about her personal life and made a sincere effort to understand her situation. He was in fact quite open-minded and wasn't judgmental. He had no preconceived notions about a woman's character and never attempted to categorizing women as sluts or chaste. He seemed like someone who believed in giving space and not imposing himself. It was eight pm; there were few people around who kept glancing at her. To avoid attention, he suggested hanging around in boardroom on first floor. The vox populi meeting was over. Without any hesitation, she agreed. She could feel her breast bouncing freely under her V-neck wrap top shaking the protruding cleavage as she walked towards the room. Her nipples tightened up as she was wondering what he was up to. It seemed like the two marginalized souls are entering an unknown, mysterious world. They felt a lot in common this time, and had a lot to share. The room was not so large and just renovated and painted a day before. In the center there was a walnut veneer boardroom table which was neat and shiny, with a dark finish. In the extreme right corner, a pedestal lecturn was placed. The room was clean and the chairs were spread across the table. As they entered, the room emanated a strong odor of a newly painted wall. She immediately covered her face and sneezed. Nitin quickly opened the windows for fresh air. He then switched on the lights and fan. They sat on the chairs around the table opposite to one another; she still had her face covered with handkerchief because of the strong odor. It took a few minutes for the room to become breathable. They started meandering from one topic to another. In between, they would gossip about people living in the colony. She was surprised to find out about the secret lives of many women in the neighborhood who often portrayed an innocent persona in public, but the erotic sides of their personalities were interesting. He then spoke about traditional housewives from conservative households, bored with their daily household chores. They are often desperate. From childhood, they are raised to be great mothers and wives. They are loving and compassionate and expected to be a selfless housewife. However, after a period this unrealistic rigid morality and the draconian double standards take a toll on them, and they say, "Enough!" Many women have to lead an isolated life because their husbands are abroad; they have to take care of the kids and family in the absence of the spouse. This physical isolation would often lead them astray. Many Hijab women, whose husband has left for the Middle East to earn, often engage in extramarital affairs. He vituperated Marwari women, and accused them of engaging in extramarital affairs with their servants and drivers. The maligning had the undertone of upper caste hatred. The story of Aisha especially interested her. She wore Hijab and covered herself fully. She was modest, an ideal housewife and a great mother. One day, her Husband got a lucrative offer to work in a Saudi Arabian pharmaceutical company. In haste, he left and for a couple of months never bothered to contact her. The physical isolation and rearing of two children as a single mother took a toll on her. She got a letter after several months that he married a Bangladeshi woman and, over the phone, divorced her by reciting 'Talaq' three times. He never visited India because of the fear of getting entangled in legal issue. She could legally defend her rights and fight against the triple talaq rule. She was alone and frustrated, but her education rescued her. A commerce degree and fluency in English enabled her to get a job in an international call-center. Despite the physical stress, graveyard shifts, mundane nature of job and low status of being a call-center worker, she was still satisfied and enjoyed her work. The wages she earned enabled her to experience a newfound freedom and autonomy. The exposure to western culture and nightlife soon changed her perspective. Aisha started wearing skimpy outfits under the veil to show her dissent, and those tight, sexy abayas, which accentuated her buxom boobs and endless legs. She stopped covering her face, but covered her head to maintain the traditional demeanor inside the colony. This dark beauty with big brown eyes and dark brown hair, very Arab looking, was all set for an adventurous life. The wonderful asset she possessed was a gift of her ancestors who came from Arabia and settled in India for more than a century. The call-center job gave her decent money but not enough to support her child's education in good school. The struggle to pay for a good education was difficult. Her mother took care of the kid, but being the sole breadwinner was challenging. She could no more fall into the traditional role of being a fulltime mother. That was when good fortune smiled at her. She met her college friend Karima. Karima was half-Moroccan and Indian. She was a reputed and an established belly dancer making fortune in conducting workshop and classes on belly dance. She was expert in Raqs sharqi, a belly dance meaning 'dance of the near east', and always considered Aisha to be a natural dancer. Karima wanted her to take up dancing for some extra pocket money in college days. Aisha did learn the hip drops and belly rolls but never mastered the dance completely. She never wanted to perform because of religious obligation and conservative upbringing, which became a hindrance to master the art. However, destiny embellished with good fortune and the serendipity of meeting Karima changed her life. At 25, she was at the crossroads of her life, to either struggle as a call-center employee or to try her luck in this new arena. She had a mentor in Karima, ready to help her, teach her, and fine-tune her skills. She specially conducted the classes for her late in the nights before the login time. That didn't disturb her job. She showed great energy and enthusiasm, and very soon, she was able to learn musical interpretation, emotional expression, Middle Eastern nuances, and stage presentation. It was tough balancing work and practice in the beginning. However, her determination and persistency helped. In a few months, she became a part of her dance group, which was an apprenticeship for her. In the next two years, she was confident enough to give solo performances and earn money out of it. Besides the monetary benefits, belly dancing also inspired her and guided in accepting feminine qualities and sensuality. It increased her awareness of her body, not only in the possibilities of movement, but also in how to care for it, love it and dress it. She was denied all of the possibilities previously, due to her strong affiliation with culture and religion. Necessity gave her the opportunity to experience them once again. Initially as a budding artist, she performed some sexy, erotic, topless belly dance at private parties to earn big money. Her shimmy movements mesmerized the audience and it ensured her only claim to fame. She quit erotic dance after making a name for herself, and started performing in metropolitan cities at an exorbitant rate and even taking part in international events in rich Middle Eastern countries Dubai, Bahrain western countries like U.S, France, and Spain. Her innumerable affairs with business tycoons and politicians marked her rise on the social ladder. Many conservatives called her 'Aisha, the slut', by accusing her of running a house of ill fame. But they never offered her any help when she was in genuine need. The double standard was apparent. Salma's Sexual Evolution Continues Salma could relate a lot with Aisha's story, and that made her bitterer towards the conservatives, and insinuated rebellion in her. She was engrossed in conversation and actively listening to him, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a therapeutic session. She never knew Aisha's true story, and all the information she received was rumors. She felt Aisha to be her alter-ego. They had a similar sort of life, intelligent Muslim women marrying a jerk and then left out. Salma regarded Aisha as her identical. Nitin disputed the claim stating that Aisha still maintains her Muslim identity by wearing the abayas and covering her head. Her Abayas are not dull and plain but trendy and stylish. Although it is a challenge to maintain style and glamour in abaya, it provokes creativity and innovativeness to when it comes to dressing up. She looks elegant, sensual and hot in those Abayas she wears, and they add a sense of mystery. It allows men to imagine something beautiful and exotic. The exotic, tight Abayas are her burlesque. And on the stage she is a mystical damsel who could warm anyone to the depths of their soul. Her breathtaking movements in those flashy cabaret costumes, those colorful beaded costumes, would make angels fall. She wasn't amateur to wear those blatantly sexy costumes anymore to redirect the audience attention to her body and away from the dancing skills. The ability to move fluidly and effortlessly and the ability to shake her belly gracefully moving her head hair, shoulders, arms, hands, chests, hips, bottom, legs and feets. The movements are beautifully interwoven. It is a wonderful gift bestowed to her, and how well she uses it. Salma loved the way Nitin perceived the entire episode. He never sexually objectified her or considered her a helpless victim, but held a genuine admiration for an independent, confident woman with beauty and grace. Salma found him attractive in myriad ways. Nevertheless, was vigilant of his moves, she loved his mind but found him slightly crude. At times, his lurid comments would disgust her, but she loved listening to all the interesting gossip. She was slightly nervous, yet excited to be alone with him in the boardroom. Sitting for too long got her feet numb, as if ants are crawling, and she got up and limped by taking support of the table. The feet needed some blood circulation. Nitin felt the same numbness. He suggested moving on to the sofa, and they limped their way to the long, triple-arched eight-leg sofa. It was an antique piece. The sofa was placed in the corner this morning form the hall as the hall was under renovation. She sat on the sofa with her legs locked and the knees pointing towards Nitin, legs exposed revealing a good amount of inner thigh. She was comfortable and relaxed with her shoes half-slipping off her feet. She bent low to massage her feet, as there was still some numbness. That, once again, exposed her cleavage. Nitin moved close to her, removing her shoe, and slightly tickled her feet with his index finger. With a confused look she says, "Its ok, I can remove them." He does the same to remove the next shoe. Well, it is obvious that he is looking for something kinky; it never seemed like a plausible plot to isolate her and seduce her. She loved the talk and the gossip, but she had a gut feeling that there would be an impending danger of something kinky. Nitin pulled her close and passionately kissed her, placing his tongue deep inside her mouth. Salma initially resisted by closing her lips tight, but pleasure and passion took over. She always fantasized about him from the day she saw him masturbate in that lane from the kitchen window. She was afraid of breaking the cardinal rule set by Sonia, but still nothing could stop her this time. With every nervous NO, she meant YES. Her heart started racing, with wetness between her legs. No man can resist this curvaceous beauty. It was bound to happen. He lifted her black top and removed it, and removed her push up bra exposing those supple voluptuous boobs. He then fondled her bra-less breasts in a crude manner. The beast in him had been unleashed, and this dark, curvaceous, oriental beauty trapped under his beastly spell. She then uncrossed her legs. He slid his hand inside the mini-skirt forcing apart her legs. He then pulled her mini-skirt up to her belly button kissing her passionately wherever he could. He already knew that she had nothing on underneath. He pressed her hairy mound with his palm, while kissing her boobs and sucking her nipples passionately. He then gently touched the opening and start running his finger over her aching wet clitoris. It was wet and juicy. It had been ages since a man had touched her in this manner. Her husband was cruel, but Nitin was crude and exciting. He knew what he wanted. His intellectual demeanor and the dark passion complemented well. He started slowly at first and then gradually moves up and down and sideways, running his fingers. He then very gently put his finger into the vagina, inserting his finger up to his knuckle, and started to finger-fuck, moving his finger in and out of her vagina, at the same time using his thumb to massage her clit. The rhythm and coordination were perfect. She squirmed in pleasure with her eyes closed. There was a subtle shift in her breathing pattern. With every movement of his finger, the breathing became heavier. The moaning became slightly louder, enjoying the finger fuck. He then started stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she felt a wonderful tingling sensation. If flashing her pussy was exciting, then getting fucked was a utopia. More than that for Nitin fucking a dusky beautiful Muslim girl was an achievement. He facetiously say, "you will love this kafir(infidel)". Salma replies, "Yes, would love to get laid with a beef eating Dalit". Nitin replies, "Then there is no kafir and musalman here. We are just human and Muslims and Hindus should fuck around with one another more often. That seems the only possible remedy for communal disharmony". He then spread open her labia, and started massaging her clitoris, which was already swollen in its fold of skin, then slipping one finger then next one, and started pushing his finger in and out. He bent down started teasing her with his tongue making circular motion around her groin region. He then slowly started licking her vagina from its entrance up to the clitoris. Enjoying every moment, relishing it like his favorite ice-cream cone scoop. He then moved his tongue freely from her inner lips to her outer labia on one side, then drew her lips into his mouth and massaged them with his tongue, not depriving the other side and doing the same on the other side. She was as hot as a lioness with her nipples hardened. He gave those quick sucks by enveloping it with his mouth momentarily and releasing it. He then took her clitoris into his mouth and gently sucked on it, while simultaneously flicking his tongue over and around it. She had no qualms about letting out distinct sounds of pleasure and peak. Her moans were genuine as though she was disoriented or bewildered. "Fuck me now, enter me now with your cock"- she begged. He immediately responded to her plea and ceased sucking her. She could not wait any longer and wanted his uncircumcised anteater-like dick to fill her juicy pussy. The reluctant Salma has now transformed into a full-fledged slut. He unbuttoned and removed her skirt and she lie down stark naked with her head placed towards the backrest and her legs spread to their extreme. Her curvaceous body was like a drug worth its weight in gold. With her narrow waist and wide hips spread, she could wait no longer and wanted him to fill her pussy. It had been ages since her pussy received some outside fluid. He unzipped, take out his jeans. Standing with his cock erect like a tent pole. Salma put on a 'fuck me' kind of expression. He moved down her body, reclined and placed her right foot on his shoulder; then drove his engorged dick up hard into her pussy so that her bare ass was smashed against the cushion, making a creaking sound. The fuck session then started with primordial sounds. She moaned as his foreskin monster slid into her aching pussy. He felt good with his cock riding inside. He started pounding fast, with her head towards the backrest she moans non-stop. The roller coaster fast fucking continued. He squeezed her boobs while riding his tool, with varying pace inside her smooth tunnel. She gave a sensual smile, gazing into his eyes while slightly lifting her head. He gave her a sadist look while riding his dick faster, with every thrust she moans louder. He continued fucking that way for at least ten minutes, fucking her brains out, battering her pussy mercilessly. She destroyed the false image of her self of being an eternal frigid, beginning to perceive the true nature of her being. She was neither a whore nor an apsara, but a wonder there to be explored in all possibilities. The rebel in her has at last come out in full colors defying authority, tradition and conventions. Nothing could stop her this time in taking the enormous risk by discreetly stepping outside the role of a nice girl. For this wonderful moment, she could let go the status of a nice girl and enjoy the forbidden, and momentarily separated herself from the tedious role of a single mother. He then changed the direction by placing her head below the side rest of the sofa, and moved down her body in a missionary position but this time lifted her knee and placing it on his shoulder. He slid his juicy cock again, which by now was spurting with precum, and then steadily increased his pace and started fucking her faster than before. He continued that way for a few minutes before she felt tensed up and began spurting deep inside her pussy. She was sweating in spite of the cold weather outside, and the fan switched on, and soaked wet by cumming so much. He decreased his pace and starts spooning her by caressing her boobs, and the slanting curvaceous abdomen; caressing her smooth apple bottom butt lifting her slightly from behind. He was fucking her with a slow and steady rhythm with one hand squeezing her boobs and the other hand exploring her mysterious body feeling every bit of it. He continued fucking her for some time and then started ejaculating deep inside her. His erection went down and his wet dick slipped out of her pussy. She left her legs hanging on the sofa loosely and both of them dozed off with his hands covering his dick, which was soft like a noodle by now. The pounding and pleasure got a toll on her; it was a much-needed fuck for her. She woke up after several minutes, disheveled, combed her hair and got ready putting on her skirt and tops. He woke up after some time, pulled out a cigarette, and started exhaling smoke rings. It was almost midnight. She was slightly scared to walk up to her apartment at this unearthly hour in a mini-skirt, which was tousled by now with all the lovemaking that went on. Nitin comforted her that he would drop her on his bike, and no one would recognize her because he had an additional helmet that she could wear, and would zoom through the back gate, which was isolated at that hour. They pushed off from the library and he carefully bolted the main door and gate. Nitin had a spare key of the library and the boardroom. They zoomed through main road, she was slightly afraid and the cold weather outside made her shiver she could still feel the pounding received a short while ago. Her hands tucked to his back. Any familiar faces she saw made her nervous. They reached her apartment. The building wasn't new for him as that was his former home where he lived with his parents; he left his parents a couple of months ago and started living with Professor Gordon. The place was deserted, luckily no one was around. Well, she allowed him inside for a cup of coffee. He entered and bolted the door, and placed his hands inside her and together they began to rub stroke and squeeze at each other's flesh. They spend the rest of the night fucking, sucking. Salma's Sexual Evolution She quickly got dressed and discovered that there was no Nitin in the lane, he must have left the spot. She pondered how strange he didn't hear the loud moaning or maybe he might have. Maybe he left the spot much earlier and she was only fantasizing him. She couldn't comprehend what happened but whatever happened transformed her completely. A new Salma Tahira has evolved.