From the diaries of young women
Hi all. I want to start a new thread of short stories. Each post will be just one short story. Hopefully it will be unlike the long stories that I have started and am struggling to finish.
Please let me know what you think and please, please encourage me to write and satisfy all of you.
Whose baby will it be?
My name is Isha. I am now 24 years old.
I was always a very pretty girl. I have a slim body with reasonably big tits and a nice sized ass. A fair complexion, big n black eyes, long silky hair and above average height. I always got second glances from all the boys and all the old men stopped to talk to me.
My looks was of no great use, as I was born into a middle class conservative family, which did not let me mingle with boys. As I grew into puberty I started growing breasts, I started having soft hair on my pussy and a thrill ran through my body each time I felt a boy glance at me. The cuter the boy, the hotter the thrill. When getting off the public bus, the touch of shoulders was so exciting.
Initially I thought these were accidental touches. I gradually got to know that these were not all accidental. But I was not complaining. I welcomed the occasion when a hot boy slammed into my back each time the bus slammed its brakes.
My friends and I used our very basic smartphones to look at shirtless pictures of Shahid Kapoor and Ranbir Kapoor. We argued whether a smooth chest was better than a hairy chest. We giggled when somebody spoke of sex and used swear words like fuck and cunt.
At home though, I was a very quiet girl. The tv channels were changed when a little romance came on. I was discouraged from talking to male cousins. As an only daughter I had no one to really talk to. Soon I was 22 years old a graduate and an innocent. Still imagining about sex with a hot hunk, wanting to make love to Bollywood studs and having really no idea of what real fucking was.
A few of my bolder friends made boyfriends and told stories of how they made out in film theatres and in lonely places. They never went further than talking about kissing with tongue action, ass pinching and the breast squeezing. Just one a friend spoke of dry humping and the rubbing of crotches.
Lately I had discovered that rubbing my pussy lips as I imagined the faces of cute boys and hot men gave me a higher lever of thrill. I started doing this everyday. Sometimes 2-3 times a day. In the bathroom, when I was falling asleep ……
As I grew older and more desperate to know a hunk and be in be bed with him, Chandan entered the scene. Opposite our house, adjoining it was a small one bedroom house. It was vacant for some time . One day it was rented out to a widow and her son. The lady was a quiet woman who worked as a clerk in an office. Her son Chandan was was a young man of 24 years. A total waster.
The lady became friends with my mum. Chandan was a big puzzle. He had dropped out of education. He was tall and really well built. He was missing most of the afternoons and returned home late in the night. He slept most of the mornings and disappeared again in the afternoons.
He was dark in complexion, really tall and broad. He had a very hairy chest . He wore jeans and a shirt which mostly unbuttoned. He had thick and unruly hair. Whenever he saw me he would have a wolfish grin and a strangle glint in his eyes. I didn't know whether I should stare back at his sexy body or be scared of his dark and menacing face.
I turned 21. Graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree. I was a creative person. But my parents thought my only responsibility was to procreate after marriage. I was therefore made to sit at home, awaiting my prince on a white horse who would come, marry me and impregnate me. While sitting at home, when my parents were away at work, time lay heavy on my hands.
There would be times I would glance at the courtyard and the house across. In the later part of the mornings, the door would open and women, different women of different ages would stumble out. Their hair all undone, their lips glistening and an air of contentment about them. After sometime Chandan would saunter out. He would invariably be shirtless. Sometimes in his jeans, sometimes in a lungi, sometimes in shorts.
He would come out, look at our door and go back in. The door was left unlocked and often even not closed.
My touching myself became more frequent.
One day, I still remember that day…..late evening, Chandan’s mother came to our house and told my mother that an urgent job had come up in their native ton and she had to leave in a hurry. She told us to tell Chandan us and left.
The next day morning, my parents went away to work. In the afternoon, Chandan too locked up and left for wherever he went everyday. I was curious and taking the key, stole across to the house and went in.
The house was quiet and still. There was the lady’s clothes neatly folded on a bed in the hall. There was a door leading to a room. So, Chandan used the bedroom. I stole in…..there was a bed , some clothes strewn on the bed. I sat on the bed….I imagined the heat coming off the bed….the heat of that hard male body…..it was getting dark……I suddenly felt uneasy and walked out of the room…out of the house.
A few minutes later I was in our house. I knew my parents would be coming back from work late that day. I cooked the evening meal. I felt restless again. I knew Chandan would not have come back. So I softly went out and stole into his house again. The house was dark, just a dim lamp in the tiny kitchen and a dim lamp in Chandan’s room. But what I saw took my breath away.
Chandan had returned. As I saw him, he was shirtless. His dark and hairy chest wet and gleaming with sweat. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were closed. He was muttering something and my eyes went down.
His jeans was unzipped and pulled down. His right hand was curled around…..around a massive thing……his cock. He was stroking his big, black cock. His hand was big, but the cock was bigger. He stroked his cock, his eyes closed and his sweaty chest heaved.
He was muttering “ Isha…..bitch…..take my cock in your mouth….chinal, ye lo choos mere lund ko…..I want to fuck your mouth” As he took my name with desire, he gyrated his crotch, imitating the fucking he intended to give my mouth.
The dark demon like male, his huge cock and that intense lust in his voice. I stood still. His voice grew hoarse as he muttered about what he wanted to do to my mouth, my tits, my cunt and my ass……my gaand was last on his list, but he seemed to want it most of all.
He groaned and I could see his cock pulsing and a streak of white liquid shot up from the tip of his cock. He shouted my name out loud at the same time and I softly ran out of the house.
That night I dreamt of the dark demon fucking me all night. The next day was one of the few luxuries I had- a late Sunday morning wake up. I dreamt all night and woke up late. I peeped out to see if my lover was awake. The door was locked. I asked my mother. She said Chandan had to go to their native town to join his mother.
They never came back. I never saw Chandan ever again.
In a year, my knight came on his white horse. He was a nice man. Thirty years old, a surgeon. He came from a good family. He was kind, caring and even good-looking. On our suhaag raat, he gently undressed me. He stripped himself. I saw his firm and fair body and an average sized cock.
As he lay down naked next to me, I closed my eyes. He thought I was shy. I had closed my eyes, as I saw the shadow of my demon Chandan next to my fair and middle class husband. I was so wrong…as I closed my eyes, I saw the dark demon hunk more clearly.
When my husband came on top of me, it was the weight of his dark muscled body that I felt. As my husband moved my hair from my face, it was Chandan’ big hands that I felt trailing down to my trembling nipples. As my husband put his six inch cock to my pussy, it was the dark and massive cock I felt penetrating me. When he ejaculated a few thrusts later , it was Chandan’s thick and creamy cum I felt splashing inside me. When my husband pressed his soft lips against mine, it was the stubble on the dark handsome face that I felt against my cheeks.
I slept well that night.
My husband was good to me. He treated me really well and I liked him. He even grew better in bed. He also got adventurous. But it was always Chandan who mounted me, it was Chandan’s great big cock that I rode in cowgirl style. It was Chandan who pulled my hair as he fucked me doggie style and it was Chandan who fucked my mouth and tits. A few weeks later, when I let my husband use my ass, it was Chandan’s voice claiming my gaand as his massive cock fucked my ass.
It is always Chandan’s cum that bathes my cunt. I am now expecting. They say the mother’s thoughts are reflected in the baby. In a few months I will know who is the father of the baby. My nice and handsome surgeon husband who I have sex with or my dark demon lover who has my soul in his grip as he fucks me in my fevered imagination.
Somehow I think I will have a son and that my son will be a big and dark baby. A devilishly handsome demon baby boy.
But then f it is a girl, a fair and pretty girl, she too will be eternally in s arch of her own dark demon lover.
Last edited by Seema2016 : 4 Weeks Ago at 11:17 AM.
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