Hi friends, I am Aniket and I am 27. I work as an engineer at a corporate company in Mumbai. I would like to share one of the best and most unforgettable memories of my life, which happened during sudden rains in a Mumbai monsoon.
It was a typical Friday evening. I had gotten a holiday, so I had left the office at around 4:30 pm from the IT hub. I thought I would reach home before the rain started, but Mumbai and the rain had different plans. The weather turned unexpectedly dark, and it began raining with tremendous speed. A light drizzle escalated into a deluge within two or three minutes. There was an instant traffic jam, and autos were seen running for cover, disappearing as if they had never been there.
My bike was in the workshop for service, so I had no alternative but to stand under a small tin-roofed bus stop. I was already half wet. The stop was crowded with frustrated office goers, and buses kept passing by with mud splashed all over them, but none were ready to stop for us. I stood there shaking water from my bag.
Suddenly someone ran for cover. A girl dressed in a pastel green kurti came running, struggling with a closing umbrella.
“Damn it! It was working perfectly five minutes back,” she muttered to herself.
I could not stop myself from laughing. A short chuckle escaped me. The girl looked at me, her eyebrows raised, a mix of irritation and amusement on her face. She was very beautiful. I noticed that her wet kurti was clinging to her arms, showing her slim yet curvaceous figure. She had long, wavy hair dripping water, almond-shaped dark eyes with lightly smudged kohl, and small anklets on her legs that made a pleasant tinkling sound whenever she moved.
She looked at me with anger but could not hide her smile. “So, you were laughing at me?”
I smiled and said, “A little. It seems your umbrella is acting like a spoiled child.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “No. It is pure mentality, not personality.”
So it began. We started talking while the relentless rain drummed on the tin roof. Her name was Meera. She was on her way to a friend’s engagement ceremony, but the auto rickshaw driver had left her halfway. She looked concerned about arriving late and completely drenched.
I tried to lighten the mood by making jokes about Bangalore rain and arrogant auto rickshaw drivers. We had to stand close because the space under the bus stop was tiny. I could sense her pleasant smell mixed with fresh rain. There was an aura about her, of grace and maturity with innocence. We introduced ourselves and kept talking.
When the rain showed no signs of stopping, I pointed out a small tea stall across the street that was covered with a huge tarpaulin sheet.
“Plan B?” I said, pointing towards the tea stall. “Why don’t we go to that tea stall for hot, piping chai instead of waiting here and getting even more wet?”
Her eyes lit up. “I love the plan.”
We ran through the heavy rain, laughing about how we were getting even more drenched, and entered the stall. We ordered hot ginger tea and some pakoras and sat on small wooden stools. The hot, fragrant chai tasted divine in the cold weather.
We talked for about forty minutes. She told me about her job as a fashion designer, her love for traveling and spontaneous adventures, and confessed her fondness for Bangalore’s rain. I told her about my corporate life, which is usually quite boring in comparison to hers, and how I felt that this monsoon had brought some much-needed excitement to my weekend evening.
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The rain slowed to a light drizzle after some time. She looked at her watch, then at her phone, and sighed. “I think I need to try and catch a cab now.”
Before she left, she took my phone and saved her number. Smiling teasingly, she said, “Please do call me when it stops raining. For both me and you.”
She waved goodbye, entered a waiting cab, and disappeared into the traffic jam. I stood there for some more time, still thinking about her, until the rain started falling heavily again.
I reached home that night and texted her to know if she had reached her place safely. I received an instant reply that her friend, who was supposed to give her a lift, had left her, and she was very annoyed. So we kept texting each other quite late into the night, and eventually began calling each other, talked for hours, and realized there was instant chemistry between us. I called her again, and we planned to meet at a famous pub in Bangalore on Saturday evening.
I reached the pub a bit early. When Meera walked in, I could not believe my eyes. This girl was so gorgeous that I was awestruck. The same simple yet elegant girl I had met in the rain had been transformed into a sexy bombshell. She was wearing a short, black, strapless mini dress that hugged her body like a second skin, ending high on her upper thighs, flaunting her sexy legs and cleavage that was worth a million dollars. She had styled her hair perfectly, applied light makeup to her face, and looked absolutely stunning.
She giggled upon seeing me speechless and said, “Surprised to see me like this?”
I stammered and said, “Yes, honestly. I was not expecting this. You looked amazing in the kurti, but this is dangerous.”
She laughed again and said, “That was the rarer, modest look. This is the real me, honey.”
We entered the pub and found a small, cozy corner. We ordered drinks, Long Island Iced Teas, as it was too late for anything less strong. We drank, laughed, and flirted the entire time. As we kept drinking and the music grew more intense with the dim lights, we moved towards the dance floor. As she started to dance, she looked incredibly sensual with every move, rubbing against me teasingly. She moved her hips in tune with the rhythm of the music.
I could not control myself. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. She turned, looked at me smiling, and immediately planted a kiss on my lips. The kiss was extremely passionate and long. Her tongue was dancing with mine, and her lips were pressing hard against mine. My hands went to her ass, and I squeezed it tight. Her soft breasts were pressing against my chest. We kissed like we would never get another opportunity in our lives, and then she whispered in my ear, “Take me to my place, right now.”
We immediately booked a cab. All the way to her place, we were making out intensely. My hands were roaming over her thighs and ass, and even the driver was glancing at us in the rearview mirror. The moment we reached her apartment, we did not waste any more time. We ran inside and started to kiss each other while undressing.
Her body was heavenly. She had 32C breasts with dark, erect nipples, a perfectly carved, slim waist, and the most beautiful, large, round, juicy ass. I started sucking her breasts and gently biting her nipples, which made her moan. Then I bent her over the couch and entered her tight, wet ass.
“Ahh, slow down, Aniket, but don’t stop,” she was yelling and moaning.
I continued to fuck her ass with deep strokes. Her butt was moving against mine, enjoying every thrust, and soon she received all my cum that dribbled down her thighs. After we finished, she led me to the bedroom.
There she was in full command. She blindfolded me, tied my hands behind my back, and threw me on the bed. She teased me with her tongue from my toes to my cock. She gave me one of the best blowjobs I have ever received in my life, slow and deep and proficient. Then she sat on my face and rubbed her wet pussy against my mouth and made me lick and suck it until she had one of the greatest orgasms I have ever witnessed.
After that, she rode me as wild as a horse, grinding and bouncing and panting heavily in my ear. “You are filling me perfectly, Aniket.”
She rode me until I finished inside of her. Even after I came, she kept riding and riding to chase her own climax. She then let out one final, panting groan and climaxed.
She then unbound me and whispered in my ear, “Now it is your turn, baby. Do with me what you will this evening.”
We had sex in countless ways, missionary, doggy style, cowgirl style, against the wall, and so on, until the morning light. Her moans, her body, her wild and erotic nature made it the best night of my life.
We continued to meet after that and had sex a few more times. A stranger on a rainy night, this girl will always be one of the most passionate people of my life.
*****
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