His Rising Stars - Sex Stories

His Rising Stars

... than two years had elapsed since I broke up with Anuradha, my college sweetheart. A drought had set in. I had lost any hope of it lifting any soon.

But my thoughts remained thoughts they never materialized into anything positive because we both were very conscious about our reputation in the company and also because I didn't know how to go about it. Anyway, I was not very keen about it. Though there was always some sexual tension whenever we were thrown together in the line of duty. But such instances were few and far between.

The third person was our legal adviser whom we met very rarely. We all should get some commendation maybe a simple letter of appreciation. I decided to talk about it with my manager. He was a man in his mid fifties so he was going to be around for four or five more years. I will have to put it to him very tactfully.

I had switched off my phone. I knew soon everybody will start ringing me. But I wanted to keep them on the tenterhooks for a little longer and I wanted to relax and enjoy the small triumph. I wanted to reach home as soon as possible, take a hot bath, cook something filling and carry the dinner, a half bottle of Signature and my laptop to my bdroom, watch some hot stuff and jerk off myself before passing into the slumber land.

I boarded the bus. My seat number was 24. It was on the two-seater side. That was good. I don't like the three-seaters on the driver's side. They are always very congested and on the wrong side. You can't ...

... watch the scenery from there. The window seat next to mine was already occupied. A Mama with heavy artillery Sat there reading a book. She was big boned and her ample bosom was quite tempting. She was dressed immaculately and wearing very little make-up but still looked very pretty. These days anything in a female attire looked pretty to me.

Despite her broad body frame there was enough space for me to settle down comfortably. I placed my overnight bag on the shelf above our heads and sat down. She gave me a quick look-over. I tried to keep poker face. She moved an inch away from me, a symbolic gesture telling me not to intrude here personal space, and was again engrossed the book she was reading. She had covered the book with brown paper. It looked like she cherished it had been reading it time and again. Must be some religious mumbo-jumbo, I thought.

"Good afternoon." I mumbled politely. She acknowledged it with the slightest of nods. I wouldn't have seen it if I was not looking at her directly.

Not interested. No woman was interested in me. To hell with her! I said inwardly.

Easier said than done.

I checked her out. She was wearing a silk sari tied low to show off her flat tummy with a half sleeved blouse to go with it. She had covered her naked arms with pallu of her sari. I was dying to rub my arms against the flesh of her arm.

It was the first week of November. One couldn't decide whether it was summer or winter. Days were hot and the nights were nippy. ...