Neha, the office bitch

“No, leave your handbag on the chair.”

Neha did as she was told. Placing her hands behind her back, she stood in front of Amit, who had a wicked smile on his face. The lustful intentions his eyes seemed to convey unsettled her as she looked away in disgust. Amit was undressing her with his eyes, as he had done a million times before.

“Now… I want you to undrape your saree.”

She stared at him in shock; her lips trembled as she struggled to make her voice heard.


Amit just smiled at her, as if there wasn’t anything unusual about his request.

“Amit…if I were to complain to your superiors, you would lose your job.”

“Oh don’t worry. They want to fuck you too.”


“You heard me bitch. Now remove it. I don’t have a lot of time.” He spoke sternly.

Neha understood his intentions clearly now. She didn’t ask again. Looking away from his lust filled eyes she removed her pallu and dropped it to the floor. Amit raised his eyebrows as he saw her smooth, slightly chubby belly for the first time. He felt as if his dick was going to break out of his pants. Finding the remote, he switched off the air conditioner. He wanted her to sweat. She slowly undraped her saree and let it fall on the white marbled floor, circling her feet.

“Good, now kick it to the side.”

She did as she was commanded. She was now in her purple paavada and black blouse. Already feeling naked, her hands instinctively covered her chest. Her blouse struggled to hold up the weight of her heavy melons, revealing a hint of cleavage. Amit glared at her. Acknowledging his glare, she lowered her hands and tied them behind her back.

“Hmm… loosen yourself a bit. Give me a sexy pose Neha. You still look uncomfortable.”

Neha wanted to tell him… ‘Fuck off’. But she had no other choice. Refusing his demands would lead her and her son to destitution. Her family didn’t want anything to do with her after she eloped with her husband. She wasn’t the kind of gal who made rash decisions. After some moments of awkward silence, she placed her hands on her wide hips and raised it to one side, crinkling the skin around her waist.

“Wow…good. Now more…give me more. Make it sexier. Make yourself irresistable.”

Neha untied her long hair, which now hung well beneath her waist curving to the firm shape of her round buttocks. Half closing her hypnotic brown eyes, she bit her lower lip and puffed up her chest. Amit felt his heart skip a beat. His jaw fell wide open on seeing raw passion radiating from her seductive pose. He never wanted a woman this much in his entire life.

Literotica Indian sex stories – Night out with Negroes

“Very good. Now from this moment on, I want you to call me ‘master’. Understood?”

“Yes…” she said.

“Yes what?”

“Yes master.”

“Come forward and place both your hands on the table slut.”

The image of her son came into her mind. ‘I am doing this for him’- she told herself. She came forward reluctantly and bent down slightly, placing both hands on the table. Amit could see more of her cleavage now, like a dark narrow river flowing between the tallest cliffs. However his view was partially obstructed by her dangling mangalsutra. He reached forward and snapped it off her neck. Her eyes teared up as she watched him throw it in the dustbin. That was her only connection to her late husband Vineeth.

“Now what do you say?” asked Amit.

“Whatever you want me to say.” said Neha fighting to hold back her tears. She was beginning to sweat now. The vermilion on her forehead was falling apart.

“And what do I want you to say?”

“Fuck me master.” she said in a broken voice.

“Louder…like you mean it.”

“FUCK ME MASTER.” she said loudly, almost crying; her helplessness was evident in her voice.

“Good slut…good.”