It was fair to say that my attempt to clear the air with Rachel and Georgie did not go as planned. Playing the role of a sex toy in a steamy lesbian affair was about the last thing I would have expected when stopping by Rachel’s for “coffee”. In the days following, my head was reeling, and I was desperate to talk to someone about the situation I found myself in. Of course, my wife was not a candidate, and most of my friends would have been shocked to hear that I’d been unfaithful, particularly in such a spectacular fashion. The only person I could think of who might understand and lend a willing ear was Harpreet. A new term of toddler music classes was about to start, and I was reasonably sure Harpeet had signed up for it. Somehow Ben and I managed to arrive late to the first session. I was a bit breathless after entering the church hall and hurriedly getting Ben unharnessed from the pram and out of his snowsuit and mittens. In a flustered state, I joined the group and anxiously scanned the circle of women sitting cross-legged on the floor. Harpreet was nowhere to be seen, and my heart sank. I sent her a couple of text messages that day and the next but didn’t get a response. I didn’t want to appear pushy, so after a few days I decided to file contacting her under “lost cause”. About a week later, I took Ben to his favourite bookshop in Wimbledon Village. He was invited to the second birthday party for one of the boys in his playgroup so I thought I’d get a present there. It was also an opportunity for Ben to pick out a book about diggers, his favourite subject at the time. I wedged the door open with my body and was pushing the pram through the door when it bumped into another pram heading in the opposite direction. I looked up to see Harpreet wearing a startled expression. She quickly put on a superficial smile and said, “Jack! Hi! How are you? Is it too late to say, ‘Happy New Year?’” I wasn’t quite sure what to say so decided to keep the conversation bland to start. “Hey Harpreet. So nice to see you. Happy New Year to you as well. How are things?” We chit-chatted for a few minutes, and Harpreet made excuses for being too busy to get in touch. She’d been helping her mother prepare for her return to India and her husband, Kishor, had been working extra long hours. I sensed that Harpreet was keen to cut things short and make an escape. In normal circumstances, I would have done the polite thing and let her go. However, I was desperate to speak to her about more private matters, so played for more time. “Listen, Harpreet, I’d really love to talk to you about a couple of important things. Do you think we could grab a quick coffee? The café around the corner isn’t too bad… my treat.” I must have looked pathetic enough to rouse her sympathy since she replied, “Fine. But let’s not go to the café. I’ve got coffee at mine, and it’s just a ten-minute walk.” Relief washed over me at the prospect of finally having a chance to speak to Harpreet about what happened on New Year’s Eve, and more recently, with Rachel and Georgie. On the way back to hers, we walked Erzincan Escort along with the prams side-by-side keeping the conversation light – veering between the weather and the latest royal scandal. Harpreet’s house was on the same scale as Rachel’s. In other words, it was quite grand and dwarfed the three-bed house Charlotte and I owned. One of the front drawing rooms was used as a playroom for Harpreet’s daughter, Anjali. There was a baby gate across the doorway, and the room was filled with toys. Ben’s eyes lit up as I deposited him there along with Anjali. He went straight for the play kitchen and began banging a pot with a block of wood painted to look like cheese. With the kids suitably occupied, Harpreet and I moved to the kitchen. We continued chatting about inconsequential things as the kettle boiled and the coffee brewed. Harpreet was dressed casually in a pair of reasonably tight-fitting jeans and a billowy silk blouse. Her hair was back in a tight ponytail revealing an elegant pair of dangling gold earrings.Harpreet’s features were small and delicate. She had flawless mocha-coloured skin, and her eyes were a light brown tinged with green. They sparkled when she laughed, which was often. She had a good figure but wasn’t as into fitness as Rachel and Georgie. Although there was a little bit of “mummy tummy” on evidence when she wore tight-fitting tops, she was blessed with a very pert bottom.With drinks and biscuits in hand we moved to one of the “grown up” sitting rooms which was richly appointed. The décor was tasteful, with an Asian influence discernible in the patterns of the furniture fabric and drapes as well as the gilding on some of the objects decorating the room. I sat on the sofa with Harpreet across from me in a tall-backed chair, our coffees between us on a low table. There was a lull in the conversation which started to drag as my mind raced to find a way to put into words all the things I needed to say. The speeches I’d rehearsed over and over in my mind vanished and left me stuttering and looking nervous. Harpreet wore a concerned expression and said, “Are you ok?” Finally, the words just gushed out, “Yes, I’m fine, sort of. I’ve been desperate to talk to you about what happened on New Year’s Eve and to tell you about the crazy things that have happened with Rachel and Georgie since. You see, I…” “Whoa, slow down. I understand. New Year’s was crazy. In fact, it was the craziest night of my life. What happened there completely threw me.” “Really? You weren’t even involved… directly, anyway.” Then Harpreet went on to explain to me that she’d never seen other people have sex, had never seen a woman kiss another woman and hadn’t realised that a woman could ride a man the way Rachel rode me. I was sure that she was having me on, particularly on the last point, but she wasn’t. Over the following forty-five minutes, Harpreet opened up to me about her lack of experience with sex. Apparently, she and Kishor only rarely made love, and always in the missionary position. I asked if she was happy. “Kishor and I have Erzincan Escort Bayan been together a long time. We have a nice house, nice things and a comfortable life. Our marriage wasn’t exactly arranged, but our parents know each other well and have always been supportive of our relationship. That makes life easy. Also, we have Anjali who is a lovely little girl.” I rushed to agree that Anjali was indeed lovely but asked again if she was happy. “If you’d posed that question last month, I would have said I was. Now, I feel like I’m at a restaurant with no menu and I’m being asked what I’d like.” “Would you rather forget about what you saw at Rachel’s?” I asked. At this question, Harpreet blushed and said sheepishly, “No. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it… a lot.” I sensed that her “thinking about it” might have involved time alone enjoying herself. Although I’d come to speak about my feelings, it was Harpreet who opened up. After talking so much about her marriage and sexual experiences, Harpreet seemed a bit vulnerable and unsure of herself. I didn’t want to take advantage of her, and my natural inclination was to verbally comfort her and be on my way. However, Rachel’s recent comment about being “too nice” was still ringing in my ears so I decided to take a chance. Looking directly at Harpreet, I simply said, “Come here.” With little hesitation, Harpreet rose from her chair, walked around the coffee table and stood in front of me. Reaching up to grab her hips, I pulled her down into my lap. She sat astride me with her knees either side of my thighs and her feet tucked under her. I circled my arms around her waist and slowly slid my hands up and underneath her blouse. I ran my fingertips upwards along either side of her spine until I reached her bra at which point I began to undo the clasp. We maintained eye contact but didn’t say a word as I moved my hands around her sides along her ribcage just below her breasts. I worked my fingers under the cups of her loosened bra and began inching my hands upward, open-palmed. My fingertips grazed the skin of her breasts sending a shudder through her body. I continued moving my hands upwards until I could feel Harpreet’s nipples lodge between the index and middle fingers of each hand. I slowly closed my grasp and had a proper feel of her wonderfully firm C-cup breasts. That was when she lowered her face to mine and we shared our first kiss. I could feel her nipples tighten as our tongues met while sliding past each other. Her pleasure was further indicated when her hips began moving forward and back in my lap. As we kissed and petted she began grinding into me until we were effectively dry-humping. At that point, my swollen cock was straining painfully against the fabric of my jeans. Fearing Harpreet’s motions might leave me chaffed, I lifted and spun her around so that she was lying on the sofa with her legs wrapped around me as I knelt on the floor in front of her. Giving her a cheeky grin, I began to undo the buttons on her jeans. She looked both lustful and terrified. Breathlessly, Escort Erzincan she said, “Please.” That was all I needed to hear to continue. Down went her jeans revealing the most bland, unsexy underwear I had ever seen. Wide, plain white and shapeless, Harpreet’s knickers were almost a boner killer. Almost. Saying nothing, I peeled off the offensive pants to be rewarded with the sight of a lovely set of meaty pussy lips surrounded by a triangular patch of lush, dark pubic hair. I began kissing my way along Harpreet’s inner thigh from her knee to her pussy. When I was about halfway along she put her hands on my head and said, “Wh..what are you doing?” “Don’t tell me you’ve never had anyone go down on you?” I replied, to which she just shook her head. She watched, wide-eyed, as I inserted my tongue in her delicious slit and licked straight up, giving her clit a light flick at the top of my stroke. Her body shook. The pleasure on her face gave me the green light to really go for it. I licked either side of her juicy labia, gave her a tongue fucking and spent a generous amount of time teasing and sucking on her clit. When I had her little nubbin throbbing nicely, I inserted two fingers into her cunt and began to finger fuck her in time with my sucking. Her thighs clamped me by the ears, and her hands pushed my face more deeply into her crotch as she came with a loud, “Fuck!” followed by some contented gurgling noises. I shifted her along the sofa and slid in behind her for a cuddle — one arm around her shoulders and one outstretched so that my hand was cupping her mound. We lay like that for a while without speaking as she recovered. I was content running my fingers gently through her pubic hair, being careful not to contact her clit, which I imagined would still be quite sensitive. I enjoyed the feeling of having a satisfied woman in my arms, a pert naked ass pressed into my crotch and the taste of pussy on my lips. Charlotte disliked the idea of oral sex, giving or receiving. She’d occasionally acquiesce when I tried to go down on her, but I could tell she was never comfortable with the idea of it so eventually I just stopped trying. As a result, it had been a long time since I’d gone down on anyone. Despite not having cum myself, I was feeling satisfied nonetheless. That’s when Harpreet roused herself and said with equal parts lust and determination, “I want more.” “Sorry,” I said, “More of what?” “All of it. I want to try more,” she replied. Standing up, Harpreet reached down and began unbuttoning my jeans as she bent to give me a deep and passionate kiss. With a sudden hunger and urgency, she peeled off my jeans and grabbed my cock. “This is a nice size,” she said. “It’s much bigger than my husband’s, and looks different too.” I later learned that Kishor has a thin dick which is less than four inches long. I’m just over six, rather thick and have a large mushroom head. Also, Harpreet hadn’t appreciated the difference between a circumcised and uncircumcised cock (I’m cut, he isn’t). “Have you ever…” I asked, nodding towards my swollen cock. “No, but that’s about to change,” she replied with a wink. Harpreet lowered her head and took the tip of my cock in her mouth and flicked it with her tongue. “Mmmm…,” she said as she sat back up. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, so please tell me if I do something wrong.”