“Say yes.”
“Only if you give it to me right now.”
“I can’t in this position.”
“Let’s change then.”
He pushed her off, turned her around, and entered her from behind. “Hold on to the couch,” he said as he rammed into her fast and hard. He was lost in the sensations of the friction between them, and wave after wave of pleasure moved from his scrotum through his cock.
Mali was moaning and pushing her pussy at him. “Randy, Randy, Randy, give it to me, give it to me,” she groaned.
Holding her by the hips, he plunged into and out of her as rapidly as he could. Over and over, he thrust; he could feel the heat rising in his body.
“I’m cumming!” she screamed, “I can’t wait any longer, fuck me!”
Like NASCAR at the starting line, he accelerated his strokes until he passed his point of no return. Normally, he would delay, delay, delay, but her command and the ecstasy was too much for him, and he exploded like a blown engine. He ejected hot sperm in a torrid flow of fluid and passion and was rewarded by Mali’s scream: “Oh God, oh God, oh God, Randy, you fuck like a Chinese god. Yes, yes, yes, I’ll move in with you!”
Emma’s Cricket Lesson
ANNA BLACK
HE WAS THE HANDSOMEST man sitting at the hotel bar.
Emma frowned. Scratch that. He was the only man sitting at the hotel bar. But that did not undo how fine he was. But it wasn’t his gorgeous face or his sexy body Emma was interested in.
She frowned. Scratch that. She was interested in his gorgeous face and sexy body. Very much so. But not right now.
What had her attention was that he was avidly watching the bar’s television, and on the screen, men were playing cricket. Or at least she assumed they were playing cricket. Emma knew as much about cricket as she knew about thermonuclear physics. But, between now and tomorrow morning, she needed to learn about the game or risk blo
wing her career as a talent agent before it even got started.
She rose from her seat and walked over to the handsome, cricket-watching man. His eyes were glued to the television. Emma glanced at the screen. All she knew about cricket was that it was as popular in India as baseball was in the United States.
She cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t turn around. Emma reached over to touch his shoulder, but he suddenly turned and looked at her. From a distance his eyes had looked hazel, but she saw now that not only were they hazel but green and what looked like gold. Never in her life had she seen such striking eyes.
“Sorry about that.” His Indian accent was lighter than that of most of the people she had encountered since arriving in Bangalore. “Didn’t mean to be rude.”
Emma smiled. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to interrupt the game.” She shook her head. “Scratch that. I did mean to interrupt.”
His smiled widened. “How may I assist you, Ms….?” He raised a brow inquiringly.
“Emma. Emma Edwards.”
He inclined his head. “Sanjay Kumar.”
She gestured at the empty seat next to his. “May I?”
He nodded and Emma sat down.
“Now, what can I do for you, Ms. Edwards?”
She looked up at the television screen. “I was wondering if you could teach me about cricket.” She glanced nervously at Sanjay. “That is cricket, right?”
He laughed. “Yes, it’s cricket. Why do you want me to teach you about it?”
“I’m a talent agent. From America.”