Loath to Lust

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‘Careful of the grass. You don’t want to scratch those pretty legs of yours.’

She wanted to kick him in the balls. But then she thought against. She strutted off ahead, not paying heed to his remarks, and crouched low and whipped out a pair of binoculars. ‘There it is! The Egret! Are you taking a photo?’ She turned around, just in time to see him shift his gaze from her bottom to the direction she was pointing in. Exasperated, she shouted out ‘For God’s sake Rohan! Behave like a professional!’. Rohan chuckled, stroking his stubble, ‘Its difficult to focus when nature throws so many beautiful things in your path.’ Tara scowled and faced ahead, but inside she felt an odd kind of flush.

Tara usually enjoyed her job as a travel writer. He backpacking experience and writing skill landed her a great job with a travel magazine, which she executed with aplomb. By 27, she was an indispensable member of the editorial board and was responsible for many of the magazine’s best articles. But she balked at the idea of her latest project — a jungle assignment in Central India. Not because she didn’t like the place, but because of the photographer she’d have to work with — Rohan Varma.

To Tara, Rohan was vileness incarnate. He turned up at work drunk, picked up brawls outside office, flirted shamelessly with her, often commenting on her clothes and expressing his desire to see fewer of them. A 38 year old divorcee, Tara often pitied his ex-wife, whoever it may have been. To her exasperation, Rohan exercised a different kind of influence on Tara’s female friends. They found him irresistible — his wayward behaviour, his powerful physique, his dishevelled half-undone shirts, his overconfident drawl, his unabashed flirtation and his handsome face with its salt and pepper beard. She merely found him too lazy to groom himself properly, and dreaded working with the lout who, she was sure, would be letching at her endlessly throughout.

But Tara had to grudgingly agree that Rohan was brilliant. His photography had won him many accolades, and despite her disapproval of the man himself, Tara was in awe of his technical skill. Despite herself, she never made a push to disentangle their professional careers. Resentfully, she consented, and packed her bags and left for Bandhavgarh National Park with the man she so despised.

Rohan began at the airport itself, admiring Tara’s modest salwaar kameez with a ‘Nothing like traditional attire to show off India’s famed curves.’ Tara scowled and replied ‘Well atleast one of us has to look presentable to our hosts, and you’re clearly not interested in that activity.’

The following two days were excruciating for Tara — Rohan stared at her lewdly, passed inappropriate remarks and made overt innuendos. At night he’d offer her to sleep with him. He was straight out of a romance novel — an overconfident playboy. But at the end of the day when the reviewed their work, she would find herself praising his photographs. For his part, Rohan would also drop his misdemeanour and speak with a true passion.

On day three, things took an interesting turn.

While heading back from the jungle, Tara and Rohan took a stop at a small tea stall to have a quick bite. Tara was dressed in jungle attire — khaki shorts and a photographer’s jacket, her body glistening in sweat. She was worried about Rohan ogling her, but then she figured he’d ogle her even if she wore ten sweaters, and never bothered. However, she did forget the effect her womanliness had on other men. No sooner had she had a glass of water when a guy on bike drew up close to her, pinched her butt and wolf whistled, calling out to her ‘Want some man cream to drink as well? It’ll satiate any thirst you have my pretty.’

Before Tara could react, however, Rohan had snarled and pounced on the yokel. He thrashed him bad, while his victim blindly flayed his arms to protect himself. All the while Rohan kept shouting at the miscreant. ‘You bloody cunt! In the heat, are you? How about I cut off your puny dick and stick it up you godforsaken ass? Take that you motherfucker!’

Tara was in shock. She pulled Rohan back along with the teastall owners, while the bike guy quickly scampered. Rohan was still glowering five minutes later when he’d been served a second glass of tea. Tara walked up to him timidly. ‘Thank you… But I wish you didn’t make that scene…’

‘Bloody motherfucker… If you hadn’t stopped me I’d have beat him to pulp…’

‘But he just letched at me… even you do that…’

‘There’s a difference… I admire your beauty… I don’t go around asking you to suck my cock or give me a fuck.’

Tara stood in silence. Rohan was true. He’d never once, in a million indecent remarks, expressed anything more sinister than how attractive she looked. He’d never touched her. Rohan was a brute, but a well behaved one.

‘Come on. Lets head back. I need to change into something new. The asshole tore my shirt.’

Tara nodded and went back to bostancı escort bayan their jeep. They drove back to their resort in silence and returned to their rooms for a bit of rest before dinner. Tara decided to take a bath, and as she lay soaking in the tub, her thoughts returned to the teaside brawl. Rohan’s anger and strength had surprised her. She’d never had a man defending her, and that alone gave her an odd sense of thrill. She recalled Rohan punching the miscreant, his strong arms flexing with each blow, his torn shirt revealing his sculpted torso and chest, covered in lithe, dark hair. She recalled his chiselled face with his salt and pepper beard and messy, cropped hair. She could hear him abusing in his deep voice, the veins flashing on his neck and arms, his body covered in mud and sweat.

To her own surprise, she felt herself getting moist. She couldn’t believe it herself, but Rohan was actually turning her on. Him with all his crass behaviour and unruly thug fights was making her feel hot and horny, and all because the lout had defended her pride. She got up from the tub and decided to take a shower in the open-air cubicle, to douse her passions. But, to no avail, she found herself playing with the handheld showerhead, directing the jet of water to her folds. The trickling of water on her clitoris was weakening her and she trembled as waves of pleasure built up inside of her. Her other hand furiously worked her pussy, slipping a finger inside and rubbing her to greater pleasure. As she lost control, she started moaning, incoherently screaming ‘Roooohaaaaannnnnn…. oooooohhhhhh…. fuckkkkk me….. you thug…. maul meeee withhhh your strong hands….. fuckkkkk meeeee….’Within a minute, she had collapsed to the floor as a violent orgasm shook her while the warm shower continued to drip all over her body.

Gathering herself, she slowly walked back to her room, her pussy still moist, and looked at herself in the mirror. She had a letchworthy physique, an ex had even asked her ‘Don’t you turn yourself on?’, and in all honesty, she did. She was built like an amazon — tall and slender, but with full breasts and a shapely bottom. She had a Polynesian tattoo inked on the side of her torso — a geometric pattern. Her face was round with luscious lips and black, almond shaped eyes. Her dark hair was cut short but added to her sexuality — to her it exemplified her sense of liberation.

She spent several minutes looking at herself and remembering Rohan’s comments. She looked at the ass that Rohan thought was exceptionally firm and shapely. Breasts which were like succulent melons. Her gorgeous face. Her sinuous, curvy legs. The feeling of pleasure returned within her as she visualized Rohan there with her, admiring her naked body, and she decided that there was no point in dressing up. She got to bed and fingered herself to another orgasm.

When consciousness came back to her, she lay in shock. She had masturbated to the thoughts of Rohan — the man she despised. She tried to push out thoughts of his attractiveness by telling herself he was a dirty old letch even if he did impress you by beating up that pervert. But unbidding, thoughts of Rohan in his torn shirt with his animal magnetism came floating into her head.

A knock on the door broke her reverie.

‘Hey Tara… Its dinner time, but I wanted to talk before we went to the clubhouse…’

Tara cursed herself and shouted ‘In a minute!’ and quickly threw on a skimpy t-shirt and shorts and ran to open the door. The sight made her break a sweat.

Rohan was in a clean T-shirt, presumably nightwear. It was tight and did nothing to hide his Adonis like physique. His shorts were loose and lanky, and he wore flip flops. His arms, big and strong as ever led down to hands tucked in his pockets. The chiselled, rugged face had a bandage on the forehead, a souvenir from the day’s scuffle. She almost forgot to let him in.

‘I came to apologize for my behaviour. Today’s and past. I know I behave like a drunken lout with you and give you hell with my perverted speech. I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.’

‘Its alright… I was mean to you too… after all you got into a fight for my sake, and I must be thankful for that.’ And involuntarily, she reached out and rubbed his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath. Then realizing what she was doing, she quickly pulled her arm back and offered to go for dinner.

Rohan stared at her and opened his mouth, then closed it again.

‘What?’

‘Nothing… Just that you look… good in this… and I’m afraid someone else will think the same and I’ll get into another fight.’

Tara blushed and ran inside to get a jacket.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair. On his best behaviour, Rohan turned out to be a very engaging conversationalist, as well travelled as Tara herself. They swapped tales of their boat ride down the Mekong in Laos and trekking misadventures in the Alps. Rohan seemed determined to ümraniye escort make up for his behaviour and Tara found herself even more attracted to this man now that his etiquette was spot on. They toasted to each other with glasses of wine and leisurely walked back to their rooms. All the while Tara fought her raging desire to be as close as possible to this man. On the verge of asking him to her room, Tara fought a battle in her mind. At her doorstep, Rohan simply said good night and turned and walked off to his room. Disappointed but relieved, Tara turned the knob and went in. Soon she began to repent her silence — her burning loins desperately craved for Rohan.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Tara, all excited, ran to open it, but only to find the hotel staff holding up a wallet. Rohan had apparently left his in the restaurant and the staff exchanged their rooms in his head. Tara took it in his hands and said that she’d go give it to him herself. The staff excused himself with a thanks, glad to be rid off his duty beforehand. Tara went back inside and checked herself out in the mirror. There was no turning back. She was quite liberated in her sexual views and had decided that she wanted him, then and there. She changed into a negligee that left little to the imagination, and peered outside her door. The resort was still up and about, and she couldn’t risk traipsing around in such skimpy nightwear. She then thought of her garden. She could easily jump the fencing and steal into Rohan’s cottage. She performed her stealth act with ease, but the cold of the night had its effect on her — she had goosebumps, she grew a bit cold and her nipples hardened, tugging at the bust line of her negligee. She quietly traipsed into Rohan’s garden and saw that his room lights were on. While she was peering through the windows, she heard a creak and quickly hid behind some bushes. Rohan had stepped out to take a shower in his own outdoor cubicle. He was wearing only a towel, his muscular back flexed in all its might. At the door of the shower, he took the towel off, revealing his fine ass and entered. He left the door open as he bathed in the warm water.

To her surprise, Rohan started fiddling with his apparatus. He leaned back on the shower wall and started stroking his slowly hardening shaft. Tara saw him take it into his hands and stroke it with a quickly increasing pace. As she looked on in wonder, his penis attained its full size and his muscles flexed as he worked himself into low moans. She couldn’t decipher what he was saying, but the whole vision turned her on and she found herself reaching for her pussy for the third time that day. They both worked themselves up to climax — Tara’s rustling in the bushery could not be heard over the sounds of the shower just as Rohan’s moans remained indiscernible. Finally with an animal roar, Rohan shouted out ‘TARA!’ and came profusely, squirting his fluid on the walls of the cubicle. The sight and the sound of her name from his mouth startled Tara who began approaching her own climax. She began to lose consciousness, moaning and groaning, her pussy clenching in wave after wave of pleasure while her back arched and her free hand mauled her breasts. In all the pleasure, she never heard the shower knobs getting turned, and a quick set of steps across the wooden deck. When she opened her eyes, Rohan was standing in front of her, stark naked, his semi-erect cock dangling shamelessly. Tara had an embarrassed look on her face — she wanted to seduce him, but this was not quite the way she planned it. The fingers of her right hand were still in her moist pussy when her orgasm finally subsided and she stammered ‘I’m s-s-so sorr-r-ry!’

Rohan gave her an odd look. Tara realized that the buttons of her negligee had opened, leaving her even more exposed. Without a word, he swooped down and lifted her up in his arms, crashing her entire body against his strong hard chest and carried her inside the cottage. Tara couldn’t believe her luck. She inhaled his scent and let her hands play with the hair on his chest. She liked hairy men and thought they looked so much more rugged than the metrosexual twinks who asked her out so often.

Rohan set her down on the bed and started taking her negligee off. In a minute, both were as naked as the day they were born, and Rohan finally broke his silence. ‘You couldn’t have said it sooner… i’d have become a well-behaved bastard on day one if I was going to get this!’

‘No… I like you unruly and mean and macho, but I never realized it. I fingered myself thrice today thinking of your gorgeous body pumping into mine and all because of the way you pummelled that bastard at the tea-stall today.’

He laughed, ‘So this little girl likes a bad man?’

Tara nodded. Her passions were rising again. ‘You bet I do. Hot bad men like yourself. Who make me go weak in the knees with their strength and ruggedness. Take me now! Make me your whore! I can’t bear another night escort kartal of finger fucking!’

‘Why you horny little bitch!’

And with that Rohan swooped down on her, entwining his massive frame around her supple skin. They kissed relentlessly while his hands mauled her breasts and ass. Fingers twirled around her nipples, while the other set slowly traced her folds. Her own hands ran with complete abandon, feeling up every inch of his well defined torso and grabbing hold of his growing cock. She hungrily held on to his tongue in her mouth. Their kiss was explosive, their bodies mashed against each other. They were both melting, and how.

Breaking away, Tara straddled and looked him in the eye ‘I never had dessert tonight. How about a long hard cream filled chocolate?’

Rohan smiled and got up in a swift motion. He kissed her again and said ‘Go ahead. If you’re a good little girl, you’ll get a chocolate filled with extra cream. But I’d like some sweet pussy juice myself.’

Without warning, he lifted her by the waist, and lay her down by his side. Then, getting up, he quickly lay upside down and called out to her, ‘How about item number 69 from the menu of horny fucks?’ and ploughed into her pussy. His tongue worked up her clitoris while his fingers entered her pussy and began another intensive round of finger fuck. But his fingers were far stronger and his tongue absolutely divine. The pleasure of it nearly drove her wild, and made her gag on his cock. His cock smelt of him, a musky smell that she could not resist. She normally didn’t like sucking cock, but this one was too overpowering. It tasted of him and she wanted every bit of him she could have then. Her lips pulled the foreskin back while her tongue tickled the tip. She slowly began sliding her mouth along the length of the shaft, gagging at the ends but never stopping. Meanwhile Rohan was adeptly demolishing her pussy, reducing her to mush. Her tongue was giving him goosebumps and he could feel himself arching in pleasure. His fingers increased their thrusting while his tongue lost all sense of strategy and wildly lashed across her engorged clitoris. His stubble poked into the smooth skin of her inner thigh, adding to her pleasure. He could feel a warm liquidy sensation on his tongue — Tara was on the verge of another orgasm. Without warning she started convulsing, clamping his face with her thighs and releasing her cunt juice onto his hungry face. She was in surprise — it wasn’t a clitoral orgasm — it was vaginal one, one that she’d never had before. The sheer animal lust of the night had driven her over the edge and how. No sooner had the thought struck her when the clitoris gave way and she floated into the heavens, completely oblivious to the spasming cock in her mouth, shooting its seed into her depths. Involuntarily, she sucked harder, drying him of every drop of ball butter and making him roar like a tiger.

It was a few minutes before she floated back to earth, and Rohan had already started playing with her breasts. His tongue worked its magic there too while her overworked pussy started to recuperate from the massive double orgasm she’d had. Rohan was gentle now, his tongue playing naughtily with her nipples, biting, twirling and licking in succession. She could feel herself warming up again and grabbed Rohan by the hair. The hardness poking her legs told her that Rohan was warming up himself.

Rohan continued to use his tongue to drive her wild, till she could take no more. She grabbed him by the hair, pulled his face up and kissed him deeply, letting their tongues battle violently. On breaking apart she whimpered, ‘Please…’

‘Please what?’

‘uhhhhh….’

‘Say it you bitch!’

‘Fu….ck…. me….’

‘Louder! Shout it out! Let the whole world know we’re having the most amazing sex ever!’

‘FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD LIKE A BITCH IN THE HEAT! PUMMEL ME WITH YOUR GORGEOUS COCK! MAKE ME YOUR WHORE!’

‘Thats like a good girl… get ready for some dick babe!’

He held her legs open and slowly rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy. He took out a condom from under the pillow. She held his hand and told him to throw it away. ‘Dont bother… I want to feel your seed in me… I’m on the pill anyway… and I’m clean…’

In response he rubbed his cockhead along her folds, making her shudder. The moist pussy juice mingled with his precum and he pushed his head inside her opening, making her let out a low animal moan. He slowly began fucking her, pushing a bit deeper with each stroke. Each stroke sent her higher into heaven, and her pussy walls clamped down to his meat, grabbing it as he slid out to give deeper harder strokes. He kissed her simultaneously, his broad chest quashing against her voluminous breasts. Each stroke pushed Tara deeper into senseless pleasure. She arched her back and wrapped herself around Rohan’s frame while he thrusted at a steady pace, grunting each time he pushed deeper into her. A new fire raged in her loins, threatening to engulf her. The pace and precision of Rohan’s strokes was pushing her to an orgasm, while his own steady grunting indicated that he was close to one as well. She could feel his body tighten a bit too quickly and looked pleadingly into his eyes.

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