The Old Neighbour

My name is Ananya. I am 31 years old, married to Rajiv for almost six years now. We live in a modest condo in Florida. I work as a yoga teacher, Rajiv works in engineering. We don't have children yet, but we are happy, comfortable and most of all, deeply in love. We trust each other with anything and everything.

Rajiv is my anchor, my calm, practical and loving husband. He always encourages me to be myself. I know some women say their husbands get jealous, but mine... he doesn't. He enjoys seeing me being admired. Sometimes I wonder if he enjoys it more than I do. Few years ago he mentioned of wanting to share me with other men. I said I'll think about it and neither of us brought it up again.

Physically, I know I turn heads. Dusky skin, long flowing hair, almond eyes I always line with kohl, full lips, my figure 39-30-40. My breasts are heavy, fuller than most, dark and pointy nipples. My hips are wide, my waist still slim from years of yoga. Since I moved to the United States, I always wear western clothes, tank tops, shorts, leggings, Rajiv encourages me to wear revealing clothes but I wear ones that are comfortable and also hug my curves. And always, always, I wear my mangalsutra. It rests between my breasts, a golden reminder of the bond Rajiv and I share.

We have a neighbor, David. He is 59, a widower for almost a decade with a couple of failed relationships since then, he lives alone next door. A heavy man, large belly, strong arms, salt-and-pepper beard, pale skin that reddens when he gets embarrassed, hairy body- the works. He is also very tall, about 6'4, taller than my Rajiv at 5'10. He is kind and soft-spoken. Over time, we began inviting him for tea, for dinners, sometimes even just to keep him company. He seemed grateful, but I noticed how his light eyes lingered on me quickly, politely, but there.

At first, I only smiled at it. Then, I confessed to Rajiv.

"I like the way he looks at me," I told him one night, while curled against him on our couch. "Remember what we once talked about, about opening our marriage?"

Rajiv looked at me, eyes warm. "Yeah...do you want him?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "He seems trustable enough. What do you think?"

He kissed me. "He does. I want to share you, Ananya. Not with just anyone, only with someone trustable and kind and who deserves you. And David does."

So we planned it together. The coming saturday evening, we invited David over for dinner. After we ate, Rajiv poured wine for the three and I took David's hand.

"David," I began, my heart racing, "we want to talk to you about something important."

He looked worried, especially since I took his hand. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Rajiv said, calm as always. "We've decided to open our marriage. Carefully. With someone we trust."

David blinked, stunned. "Open your marriage? Okay."

Rajiv breathe heavy. "We want it to be with you."

David was taken aback. "I couldn't do that, I don't want to hurt anyone."

I squeezed his hand gently. "You wouldn't be taking me away from Rajiv. This is something we want together. We trust you the most. We want you, David. I want you."

He shook his head, cheeks red, voice breaking. "It's been years since I've even touched a woman. And never... never with a married one. I don't want to... disrespect you."

Rajiv leaned forward, steady, his voice reassuring. "There's no disrespect. This is consent. From both of us. We want this with you."

David fell silent, staring at me, then at Rajiv. His eyes glistened, his beard trembling. Finally, he whispered: "If you're sure. If you truly mean it... then yes. Yes, Ananya and Rajiv. I'll do this."

Later that night, Rajiv kissed me before I left our condo. "Enjoy yourself. Tell me everything when you're back."

I walked across the hall, heart hammering and knocked. David opened the door, looking nervous, like he still couldn't believe it was real, he was in his comfy black tank top and shorts.

I stepped inside, shut the door and placed my hand on his chest, his chest hair tickling my palm. "Tonight, I'm all yours."

He swallowed hard. "Are you sure about this Ananya?"

"I am," I whispered and kissed him. His lips were warm, hesitant at first, then hungry. His hands hovered until I guided them to my waist.

I pulled his tank top off and gently sucked on his pink nipples, one after the other, my arms holding him by his love handles. He groaned and held my head gently. After a good minute I slipped my top off, my breasts spilling free, nipples already hard. His eyes widened and he cupped them reverently, groaning deep in his chest. "You're beautiful," he muttered, almost to himself. He leaned and took one nipple in his mouth, then the other, sucking gently- oh the gentleman.

I knelt in front of him, tugging his lil shorts down. His cock sprang free, long, thick, pale, flushed pink at the tip, heavy balls swinging below. My fingers wrapped around it, then my lips.

"Mmh Ananya..." His voice cracked as I bobbed my head slowly, saliva dripping down the shaft, my hand twisting the base. His cock throbbed hard against my tongue, precum salty on my lips. I figured he would'nt last too long so I stopped, I wanted him to cum inside me.

When I finally pulled off my shorts, I stripped naked, my golden mangalsutra swinging between my heavy dusky breasts and straddled him on the couch. He stared up at me, through his blue eyes, as though I were some impossible dream.

"Ananya wait, the condoms..." He stopped me.

"I'm on the pill love" I whispered. "Now, touch me."

His big hands spread across my hips as I reached down and guided his cock to my pussy. I was already soaked. Slowly, I sank down, inch by inch, until he was buried balls deep inside me.

"Oh God..." he groaned, clutching me.

I gasped, arching my back, my breasts bouncing in his face as I began to ride him. His belly pressed against my thighs, his strong arms holding me tight as I moved. I kissed him hard, our tongues tangling, his beard scratching against my cheek.

He thrust up into me, grunting, his face flushed red. "Ananya, I can't--"

"Yes," I moaned, grinding faster. "Cum inside me, David. I want it."

With a guttural groan, he erupted, his cock jerking deep inside me, hot seed spilling into my womb. I clung to him, shuddering at the flood of warmth, my own orgasm building.

"Don't pull out," I gasped, still seated on him, his cock twitching within me. I reached between my thighs, rubbing my clit, the slick sound of my fingers mixing with his cum already seeping out.

"Ahhh-ohhh yes, fuck" I cried out, body convulsing, pussy clenching hard around his cock as I came.

I collapsed against him, both of us trembling, sweat mixing, his cock still buried inside me.

For a long moment, there was nothing but our panting breaths. Then I kissed him softly. "You're not alone anymore, David. Not from tonight."

He held me like he'd never let go.

We stayed like that for a while, my pussy still wrapped around his softening cock, the warmth of his cum leaking out, down his balls and onto the floor. Eventually, he whispered, "Do you want to... maybe lie down? Properly?"

I smiled, kissed his cheek, and nodded.

He led me gently to his bedroom. It was simple, older furniture, a big bed with plain sheets. I slid onto it first, stretching out on my back, my breasts rising and falling, my marital mangalsutra glinting faintly in the lamp light. He lay down beside me, still shy, still disbelieving that this was happening.

We kissed again, slower this time, without urgency. His hand stroked my thigh, then my belly, then cupped my breast with a tenderness that made me shiver.

"I don't want this night to end," he murmured.

"Then it won't," I replied.

We curled together under his blanket, skin to skin, his chest hair brushing my nipples, his strong arm heavy around my waist. At some point, he stirred again, his cock hardening against my hip. I rolled over on top of him, slid down and took him into my mouth again, savoring his taste. He groaned, gripping the sheets, before pulling me up and whispering, "My turn."

He pushed me gently onto my back and went down between my brown thighs. His beard tickled as his tongue spread me open, circling, sucking, teasing until my toes curled- he is old but still got it. I gasped and shuddered, pulling at his hair as another orgasm rushed through me, leaving me limp and trembling.

Then, slowly, he slid back inside me. This time we didn't rush. He moved gently, holding my hands, kissing my neck, whispering that I was beautiful. He was huge, I rocked with him, wrapping my legs tight around his waist, drawing him deeper until he groaned and spilled into me again.

We didn't move afterward. He stayed inside me, balls pressed to my ass, our bodies tangled. My hand slipped down between us and I rubbed myself one last time, moaning softly until I climaxed again around his cock, milking every drop from him.

When it was over, we lay tangled in each other's arms, his cock still buried in me, both of us exhausted, satisfied.

I fell asleep with my face in his chest, his hand on my breast, my pussy soaked in his cum and the faint hum of the AC filling the room.

That night, I didn't go home. I stayed in David's bed, with his white cum flowing out of my married desi pussy.