Squeezing my waist - an Indian erotic story

I am certain that’s Ravi’s way of saying so many sweet nothings to my body… A modern Indian erotic story.

My bare waist still anticipated Ravi’s touch, if he was around me.

Especially if he’d just returned home from the office, like now.

After dropping his bag and removing his shoes, most times, his fingers find my waist.

At first, they gently, familiarly crawl along my bare skin, nonchalantly resting, yet increasing my heartbeat, and also working some magic on my nipples.

His chin rests on my shoulder, as I make way for him, welcoming him into my being even if my back is towards him, while I am busy in the kitchen.

I can smell the day mixed with his scent, as I inhale deep. This is not just our time. It’s sometimes my time. To lean on him too, my body sharing who is going to be carrying whom for the rest of the day maybe :-) I let my body go limp for a few seconds, letting the lumps down gladly.

My honesty is rewarded with my husband’s ever accepting hands, as he squeezes my waist.

Even I don’t know how, but Ravi and I genuinely enjoy the conversations we share. And we usually have a thing or two to share with each other over the ten odd hours we haven’t seen each other.

He begins kneading my waist slowly, as we remain close to each other. Deliberately staying longer, we get past the extra second of what is “normal”, and then it just feels like a very long lovely moment.

I stop chopping the tomato, taking an entire slice and biting halfway into it from one side. I turn to face my husband, with a naughty smile.

He bites in from the other side, our lips meeting comically, our mouth tomato and laughter filled. We take a few moments to chomp down the rest before we resume kissing.

It’s not a slow kiss, but a more present one. It doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, but it has already gotten a little fire starting, warming us up for later.

:-)

~

Cum for the modern indian erotic story, stay for the honesty.