**With apologies in advance--only a short update today**
Part 31
Arnav Singh Raizada knew one thing about his wife: there were no half-measures in Khushi's life. She was at her boldest, her fullest, her most committed, her most invested in every thing that she faced. So far they were equal. However, where Khushi went even further than himself was in their physical relationship. One would think that Arnav had the distinct advantage of experience; but Khushi trumped experience with authenticity and enthusiasm. Even when self-conscious, when he asked something of her, she gave it. And, she gave it not out of duty or desire to please alone, she gave it because she herself wanted to taste the fruit. She was the most inexperienced lover he had ever been with, yet she was the most open to please and be pleased.
When he asked her to remove her blouse and petticoat, he had felt her waver. Nevertheless, she had done it. She had stripped for him--and had allowed him to fill his eyes--her ravishing body in the red lingerie she had selected with him in mind. Each day--no, each moment!--he saw that Khushi kept extending herself in their intimate life; very often outside her comfort, but doing it with rapture and taking pleasure in it herself. He couldn't help smiling when he thought how smugly he had once believed that he would have something to teach her. He now knew that all he could teach her was mechanics and geography; how to be a lover?--that she knew innately.
"Why are you smiling?" she asked, suddenly sounding shy. As shy as a woman in a red thong straddling her husband could be!
Arnav cupped her exposed bottom with his hands, and said, "is this the same woman who would blush when her dupatta would drop?"
Khushi coloured and buried her face into his neck. His hands caressed her hips and thighs, his eyes following the journey of his hands. He said, "you are stunning." And, before those words had time to sink in, he surprised her with a spank.
"Ouch!" she yelped, and pouted.
"That's for being a tease. Don't ever make me wait again!" he warned.
"It didn't excite you?"
Arnav tilted his head to take in the naughty sparkle in her eyes. "Control and power excite me. Delay only aggravates," he said.
"That's a shame, because I can't be controlled," she countered, "nor can I be overpowered."
"Oh really," he stated, as he lunged to his feet. Her legs quickly grasped him around the waist and her arms caught his neck. "You can't be controlled?" he asked rhetorically with a smirk on his lips.
Before she could express outrage, he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. Their tongues met, their sighs mingled and he felt her becoming more and more his. Still in his arms, he crushed her against the solid wall adjacent to the bed. With his one hand supporting her hips--he pulled aside her thong with his free hand and met with her wetness.
"Umm," she moaned softly in response to his touch. Arnav saw her eyes shut, her head rolling back.
"One touch and you are under my control, Khushi."
"No," she protested.
"Shall I stop?" he asked, testing her readiness with his fingers.
"No," she sighed. "Don't stop."
Now aroused to point of extreme tenderness, he undid the fly of his jeans, and entered her swiftly. His grunt was half-muffled, as he buried his face into her hair. She tightened around him, and he was aware that he who had boasted of control was in danger of embarrassing himself and disappointing her. Arnav gathered his scattered senses, and re-focused himself on her pleasure. It was always her enjoyment that gave him his final satiation.
His thumb stroked her nipple through the red lace.
She moaned, her voice soaked in pleasure.
He replaced his thumb with his tongue and mouth, tugging, bathing--
"Take me to the bed," she begged.
"No," he said.
"Here?" she asked with disbelief.
"Here," he assured her. And, he showed her how well he could support her against a wall, as he ground his hips into her warmth.
Again and again.
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