The Test I Faced Ch. 02

Three months have past since my boss, Chetan, coerced me into having sex with him in my living room. It took me several days to wrap my head around what had happened. I did not want it to happen, but in the days leading up to it he had pursued me in subtle ways, pushing the envelope with comments and touches along the way.

The warning signs were there. I suspected his desire, but was too afraid to do or say anything about it. I suppose in some ways I was flattered. But, even so, I did not want to have sex with him.

Then he showed up at my home, completely unexpected, and little by little, he pushed himself on me, ignoring my objections and breaking down my defenses until his face was buried between my legs and he was bringing me to orgasm with his tongue.

Then, before I could respond, he was on me and inside of me.

I knew it was wrong. I wanted him to stop and pull out of me, but, for some reason that I still do not completely understand, I found myself welcoming his penis inside of me and crying out for him to make me orgasm again.

Then he spilled his seed inside of me. That was too much. I was so worried that I would become pregnant because of that one act.

I did not go into work that entire week. Chetan did not object. How could he? The man had forced himself on me. I could have brought charges against him, but I did not want anyone to know about it. Especially not my husband, Gopal. Or my son.

When I finally returned to the work place things were not the same with Chetan. He understood my desire to only work when others were in the office. And I often worked from home.

He apologized to me, but that does not matter. I often catch him looking at me. And I know that he is picturing me naked and remembering how he screwed me on my couch.

But he never said or did anything overtly again. Although once he dared to say to me, "You have nothing to worry about, I got it out of my system that day."

Like using my body for his satisfaction was just another thing to check off of his bucket list!

I have looked at other job opportunities, but have seen nothing that I wish to pursue. My job is something that I enjoy doing, and the hours and location are very good for me.

Slowly things returned to normal. Well, maybe normal isn't the right word, but something like that.

Since then, he has behaved himself for the most part. Oh, there have been the occasional hushed comment, or subtle innuendo to remind me of that day together, or to indicate his satisfaction with the memory of our encounter. But nothing overtly flirtatious or offensive. Definitely nothing that drew suspicion from my colleagues.

But those comments, and his lingering eyes, always kept me aware of his interest and desire. So I do my best to keep my distance at work. And I never stay late.

I don't think that Gopal suspected anything, though he could tell that something was bothering me. And the first few times that we made love I felt very guilty. But that has worked out for us too.

Except that there have been moments when I am lying under him when I close my eyes and I suddenly picture Chetan on top of me as my husband brings me to climax. I do not want those memories, or fantasies, whatever they are.

There have also been moments when I catch myself looking at Chetan in the office and I remember him with his pants undone, with his erect penis, which is just a little shorter than my husband's, but so much thicker; thick enough that I felt a difference in how he filled me that day.

We have been busy lately at work. Chetan surprised us by asking if we could work on Saturday. None of us particularly liked the idea at first, especially two of the men, who reminded Chetan that the All India Football Federation team would be playing in one of the two matches of the SAFF Championship tournament that day.

So Chetan suggested that we have a watch party us of the international soccer tournament going on, and said that we could make a party at the same time. He would provide the food and drinks, and he reminded them that the games would be on his big screen TV. And spouses would be welcome, but not children since there would be alcohol served. Most of the team does not drink, but Chetan, and a couple others, do.

I did not want to go. But once the others agreed I felt compelled to do so. Besides, I was able to bring Gopal with me.

Of course, the thought of seeing Gopal and Chetan talking together, knowing that both men have been inside me, is particularly awkward. So is the thought of seeing Chetan's wife and knowing that I had sex with her husband.

But things did not go as planned. At the last minute, Gopal informed me that he was unable to attend. He had a last minute work obligation. I wanted to back out, but could not do so. Besides, other people will be there.

I arrived, wearing my traditional saree, while many others are dressed much more casually. But I want to keep a modest appearance.

I speak with Chetan's wife, but find it difficult to look her in the face.

We gathered around the living room and began working. Most of this was completed quickly, so when the first match began everyone could watch the game without it being much of a distraction. With most of my part being done for the moment, I decided to help in the kitchen. It was there I learned that Chetan's wife had left to attend another event with some friends. So now, both my husband and Chetan's wife are not around.

I am standing at the counter, which has an opening looking into the living room. I see everyone from behind as they are watching the football match. I am cleaning up some things when Chetan steps up behind me.

"Hold still, Vidya," he tells me, "I need to grab a couple clean glasses."

Before I can move, he pushes up against me from behind and reaches up to the cabinet above my head. He opens it and removes two glasses, but in doing so his body presses against mine, and I feel his crotch grinding against my butt.

"Chetan." I whisper, as I observe the contact lingering longer than necessary, with an obvious rubbing, almost humping motion. It is probably my imagination, but I swear that I can feel his erect penis rubbing against me.

"So sorry, Vidya." He says, softly, as he backs away with the glasses in hand and heads back to the living room.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to recall if I did feel contact with his penis, or if I just imagined it. I feel flush as I remember how he felt inside of me. Why am I thinking about that?

Time goes by, and I am called to join the team in the living room for the next phase.

Unfortunately, the only open seat is on the couch next to Chetan. I swear that he was sitting in the recliner earlier, but now that is occupied by one of the wives.

Chetan slides to his left, up against the side rest, but I am still sitting up against his right side, pinned in between him and Monril.

Monril lays out a large folder, placing it on my lap so that I can go over the information for everyone. Some of the others have matching files that they are following my part of the presentation with.

We are discussing the details when I feel a hand resting on my left thigh. I look down and observe that Chetan's forearm is beneath the folders. Oh my god, his hand is on my leg. Perhaps it is an accident, but I seriously doubt it.

I try to look at him, but sitting beside me, actually against me, our eyes do not meet, and I do not want to turn my head sideways to look at him in front of everyone. I want to reach down and grab his hand, but that would bring attention to this. I cannot allow that.

His hand moves. I feel his fingers softly caressing my thigh. It feels good, but it is irritating me at the same time.

His arm repositions, and now I feel his upper arm pressing against my left breast. I try to move, but there is no where to go without getting up off the couch.

No one sees what is going on as I sit there, feeling Chetan's upper arm sliding slowly back and forth against my breast as his fingers caress my thigh.

"Excuse me." I whisper, as I try to move slightly, hoping to get him to stop.

Chetan doesn't reply. Instead his hand slides a little farther up my leg. It is now pushing the material of my saree down between my legs so that his fingers can rub against my inner thigh. His upper arm continues rubbing my breast.

I feel both of my nipples getting hard. And as much as I want this to stop, there is a familiar tingling between my legs. I stammer in mid sentence as I recall the moment that his manhood pushed into my pussy three months ago.

Finally my part is over. "I need to go to the restroom." I say, and begin to get up.

As I begin closing the folder, Chetan pulls his hand away, but manages to slide his finger ever so quickly over my pussy. I clench as I feel the brief touch.

And just like that his hand is gone and I am scrambling up off the couch and hurry to the bathroom.

I return to the kitchen afterwards. I cannot go back into the living room. I decide that I should leave. Chetan is not following the boundaries I wish to keep between us.

I turn and find him standing there. "Is everything okay?" He asks.

I speak softly, not wanting anyone to hear. But the men are making plenty of noise as they are engrossed in the match. "What do you think you are doing?"

Chetan smiled, "I am just being playful, Vidya. You know how boys will be boys."

"You should not touch me." I remind him.

"But we have done so much more than touch." He says. "We have both enjoyed each others body before."

"That was a mistake." I say.

"Yet you enjoyed it." He accused.

I cannot argue. I did not want it, but I had indeed enjoyed it when he was making me climax.

"And here you are, dressed nice and sexy and without your husband. I just assumed you were interested." He tells me.

"You assumed wrong." I say.

"But you did nothing to stop me."

I glare at him. He is right, but only because I am too afraid to let anyone else know what was happening.

Someone yells. I turn my head to see what happened, only to see that the play on the TV screen is getting intense. The match is coming close to the end and the score it tied.

I flinch as I feel hands on my breasts. I turn back. Chetan has stepped closer and used both hands to grasp my bust. I quickly grab his wrists and pull them away, but he breaks away and begins fondling me again.

"I have really missed playing with your tits. They are bigger and nicer than my wife's."

"Stop it." I say, perhaps too loudly. I turn my head, but no one has heard me.

"You cannot do this." I insist.

Chetan has me blocked in. I don't dare yell out as I feel compelled to stand there as he plays with my tits.

His right hand drops down between my legs and he begins rubbing my pussy.

"Please stop." I whisper.

I look down and see the bulge in his shorts. Seeing me looking he says, "You have me hard, Vidya. I can't go back out in front of everyone like this."

"It is your fault." I remind him.

Chetan reaches for his crotch and unzips his shorts. He reaches in and pulls out his hard, uncircumcised dick. "Tell you what, you take care of this for me and everything stops."

"What?" I say in disbelief. "There is a room full of people next to us."

And they all have their backs to us. Besides, the counter blocks our view from the belly down. They won't see."

I am desperate. I do not want to do this, but I also cannot pull my eyes away from his manhood. I remember so well how it felt while he was fucking me.

I suddenly realize that I have taken hold of it with my right hand and am stroking his penis in effort of making him cum, while our co-workers and some of their spouses are sitting only a few feet away.

"I cannot believe I am doing this." I tell him.

Chetan puts both hands on my shoulders and begins pushing me down. I drop to my knees, below the counter, and am now eye level with the penis that I am jacking off.

"Suck it." He tells me.

"No."

He grabs my head in his hands and pulls me closer. I try to resist, but cannot escape and do not dare make any commotion that might draw attention to us.

"I need it so bad." Chetan says.

I give in. I open my mouth and take his hard, thick member into it. And my mouth needed to be wide open, because he is thicker than Gopal--quite a bit thicker--so it is a challenge for me.

While physically challenging, it is also mentally challenging, because, while I had been seduced to involuntarily fuck this man once, I at least had the knowledge that my husband was the only man that I have ever given a blowjob to. But now I am sucking my boss' dick.

"Oh yes, that feels so good." He says.

I am bobbing my head up and down on his dick, listening to the people in the next room yelling as they watch the game, not knowing what was happening only a few feet away from them.

To me, it is like they are cheering me on as I blow Chetan.

I think about Gopal, but that just reminds me that, while slightly longer, the girth of his dick does not fill my mouth the way that Chetan's is doing.

I feel so conflicted as I suck my boss' dick. He is standing over me, holding my head in his hands while matching my movements as he thrusts forward. I cannot help but think of both the similarities and differences between Chetan's dick and Gopal's as I suck him.

Voices continue to cry out as the match is coming close to the end and people are cheering their team on in hopes of a goal, all while I run my mouth up and down Chetan's shaft, and use my tongue to lick the underside of his dick as I do so.

"That's it, Vidya, make me cum, oh yes." I hear him say. All I can think is that I hope he doesn't say anything too loudly.

I have never dared to do anything this risky in my life. The thought of us getting caught terrifies me, but there is a thrill in this as well. Sure, I don't want to do this. At least I think I don't. But all I know is that I want to finish Chetan and satisfy him.

I feel his dick getting just a little harder. Hearing his breathing lets me know that he is about to cum.

"Oh yes." He mumbles, and I feel his cum jettison into my mouth.

Ironically, the people in the next room scream as their team scores what should be the winning goal. It's as if an audience is cheering me on as I make satisfy Chetan's lust as he fill my mouth with his seed.

My hands are clasped behind Chetan's butt and I feel his cheeks clenching as he cums. Spurt after spurt fills my mouth and I gulp it down, though some of it escapes over my lips and runs down either side of my chin.

"That was wonderful." He tells me, as he withdraws his dick from my mouth. I stare at it as he holds it in his hand. There is a small dribble of cum along the slit on the tip of it. With his other hand, he pulls me forward and I obediently stick out my tongue and lick the cum off, then he tucks it into his shorts and pulls his zipper up.

I rise to my feet, using my hand to wipe away the cum that has spilled onto my face. I look down and see that a few droplets have landed onto my saree.

"I need to clean up." I say.

Chetan points down the hallway. Those stairs go up to my bedroom, there is a private bathroom there. Perhaps you should take a quick shower while I see how everyone is doing."

I head down the hallway, but he stops me, "Vidya, that really was wonderful."

I hurry upstairs. I enter the bathroom, only intending to wash my face. I do so, then pull up my saree and lower my panties so I can sit on the toilet and pee. I realize that my pussy is very wet. I cannot believe that I have become so aroused by being forced to give my boss a blowjob.

I begin to feel dirty. I was coerced into this, but once I was sucking his dick I became a willing participant. How did that happen? I have no desire to cheat on my husband.

I decide to take a quick shower. I just need to wash myself clean of this incident. I check the bathroom closet and find a clean towel. I lay it on the sink then remove my clothes and jump into the shower.

I stand beneath the stream of hot water, contemplating what had just happened. I think that I may have to find another job. I just cannot go to work and face Chetan.

I catch myself rubbing my pussy with my right hand. I do not remember lowering it, but there it is. My clitoris is hard. I am aroused and want nothing more than to pleasure myself while standing in my boss' shower. My mind is all over the place now.

I should stop, but I don't. I softly caress my clit with two fingers, feeling the stirring within my pussy. Maybe I can do this quickly and then get dressed and leave immediately.

I hear the bathroom door open and close. I thought I had locked it. I pull my hand away from my pussy just as the shower door slides open and I see Chetan standing there, fully naked.

"Get out of here!" I blurt out at him.

"Relax, everyone has left. The match is over and I told them that you are not feeling well and I am going to take you home."

He steps into the shower, and I watch as his dick grows hard in front of me as he is staring at my body. I look in awe as it stiffens and grows. Once more I marvel at the girth of Chetan's dick and how it is easily twice as big around as Gopal's.

"Would you like me to wash you off?" He asks.

"Do not touch me. You have done too much already." I snap.

I pull my eyes away from his erect dick, and notice his naked body. Even though we have had sex, he was dressed, with only his pants and underwear pulled down. While he has seen me naked before, this is the first time that I have seen him fully undressed.

The sparse dark hairs that pepper his skin are accentuated by the water. He isn't a hairy man, but the fine, light dusting of hairs seem to make him perhaps even more - well, manly. That is not a quality that I normally admire. In fact, it differs greatly from my husband. Gopal is smooth and slim, and definitely not overtly muscular, whereas Chetan is a strong man who just seems to exude power and control.

Perhaps that is why I have succumbed to him twice now.

He reaches up to grab my breasts. "I said, don't touch me. And please get out of the shower."

I ignore my tits and place both hands over my pussy to hide it from his view. It is as if I am trying to hide how wet it is, which is a foolish notion since I am standing under a steady stream of hot water that has technically made my entire body from the shoulders down wet.

He grabs my tits again and softly fondles them. My nipples become erect, each growing to a full inch in length.

"I had forgotten how beautiful your tits are." Chetan tells me, then he lowers his head and begins licking my left nipple.

It feels wonderful, but I demand that he stop at once. I cannot allow this to happen again. But try as I might, Chetan continues to lick me, moving his head back and forth to both tits so that he can lick both of my nipples while his hands grope me.

"Please, don't do this." I whimper.

He drops to his knees, pulling my hands away from my pussy as he pushes my back against the shower wall. I know what is coming next. I try to resist him, but my legs spread apart as his face is buried into my crotch.

"No, please stop."

His tongue begins caressing my labia, then it slowly moves up to my enlarged clitoris. I shudder as it makes contact. I do not want this, but after sucking his dick, and having his hands and mouth on my tits, my body is craving it against my will.

I close my eyes, trying to pretend that this isn't happening, and then trying to pretend that it is Gopal who is doing this to me instead.

When it comes to cunnilingus, Gopal is wonderful. Even with my limited experience of only being with two men--now--I have always felt that if pussy-eating were an Olympic event, Gopal would be a gold medallist and undisputed world champion. He can take me from grumpy and uninterested in sex to thrashing around in orgasmic ecstasy in ten minutes if he can just get his head between my legs.

Even so, Chetan is no novice at it, he proved that the first time he took me. And now he is doing so again.

I lean against the wall as he licks me. I feel one of his fingers sliding inside of me, then two. He slowly finger bangs me, rubbing my G-spot as his tongue works my clit, bringing me closer to the boiling point, though perhaps not as fast or as skillfully as Gopal  would have done. No matter, I am about to orgasm.

"Please stop, don't make me cum!" I cry out, feeling guilty about enjoying this. And at the same time I am secretly praying that he does not listen to me.

Oh my god, I am about to cum. I try to push his head away one last time, but I end up involuntarily grabbing his head and holding it in place, grinding my crotch against his face as Chetan's mouth and tongue, along with his two fingers, pleasure me.

"Oh yes, I am cumming!" I moan.

I have to brace my feet and strengthen my legs to keep from collapsing to the floor as I orgasm.

My eyes remain closed as I do my best to remain standing. I am breathing heavily. I feel and hear Chetan rising to his feet. Thank god, hopefully he will get out of the shower and give me some privacy as I try to recover from this.

I feel his hands on my shoulders. I open my eyes just as Chetan leans forward and begins kissing me.

I try to resist. I don't know why. I have fucked this man. I have sucked his dick, and had him get me off orally twice now. But I absolutely don't want him to kiss me? Perhaps it is the last vestige of something I have only shared with Gopal.

And as the mouth that was just all over my pussy kisses my lips, I discover that Chetan is a great kisser. He knows how to convey sexual desire in the touch of lips and tongue.

Gopal  gives soft, loving kisses that tell me just how much I mean to him, how special I am, how much I am adored.

The kisses that Chetan is giving me is tells me in no uncertain terms how much he wants me. How much he wants to put his fingers, his mouth and his impressive cock between my legs and fuck me to within an inch of my life.

"We have to stop..." I begin, and then he reaches down behind me and lifts me, one hand under each thigh, spreading my legs and pressing me back against the wall of the shower. I feel the tip of his erect cock at the entrance of my vagina.

"No, you cannot fuck me. You cannot fuck me!" I tell him, over and over.

He presses the head of his cock into my open slit. The sensation of it is almost too intense to bear as he lowers my body onto his shaft. When my clit makes contact with his member I feel a jolt rush through me. The sensation is powerful, almost too strong, as I am being filled and stretched to my limits.

Fortunately, I am wetter than I had realized, and his strong arms lowered me gently down onto that long, thick rod of flesh.

I am full--completely full--of his hard flesh, pinned against the tiles of the shower enclosure, his mouth devouring mine.

I pull my legs up so my feet crossed over behind his back, and he then proceeds to lift and lower my body onto his cock, as the warm water of the shower plays over our skin and his strong chest crushes my tits and pushes me back against the tiled wall.

He is so deep inside me. Each time he lowers me down onto his cock and our bodies press together, I can feel him, deeper than any man has reached before, and I am fuller than I ever remember.

This is insane. I want it to stop. But I am so turned on at the same time. This is so dirty and so intensely, almost obscenely sexual; totally different from what I usually enjoy. While it is intimate, it is far from the romantic encounters I have with my husband.

Chetan's cock is totally filling my vagina - my cunt - and I am helpless, impaled, and wildly excited.

Our movements grow faster, even more passionate, more urgent. Before long he is literally screwing me to the wall, my body held tight between his powerful chest and the smooth side of the shower enclosure as his hips thrust, again and again, driving his cock more and more powerfully into me.

The flow of water over my skin is an extra stimulation; not that I need one, with his cock pounding between my legs, twisting and rubbing on my sensitive places.

I turn my head from side to side, unable to move back because of the hard, tiled wall behind me, dropping instead onto his shoulder as the water runs over both of us.

A slight shift in position and the shaft of his cock is rubbing my clit on every thrust, and quite suddenly I feel my orgasm build and break.

Involuntarily, I bite into his shoulder as the spasms burst through my abdomen, pulsing wildly, my blood pounding in my ears as every nerve in my body seems to want to fire at once.

His cock continues to rub on my clit, finding the sensitive areas inside my vagina. Still, the skin of his chest rubs on my nipples.

And I keep coming. Oh my god I am cumming so much as he continues fucking me!

Finally, he gives a low moan and I feel the first pulses of his climax. He presses deep inside me and holds me tight, his chest heaving as his orgasm overtakes him and he pumps his semen into my quivering pussy.

My arms squeeze tightly around his broad shoulders, his strong arms still supporting my body as he holds onto my thighs. Our mouths meet again, and his kiss is urgent and passionate.

Slowly the sensations subside, but he still holds me against the side of the shower enclosure as his erection softens a little and I feel the first dribble of cum spill out of my vagina.

Then he pulls out of me and gently lowers me to my feet. We look into each other's eyes and kiss again.

"Vidya, that was fantastic. I needed that so much." He says to me.

I am speechless. Part of me is so overwhelmed at how great this felt. But at the same time I can't help but think about how wrong it is, and how he had pressured me into this.

We shower off the cum that has dribbled down both of our legs and then turn off the water, grabbed the towels and dry off.

All I want to do is to get dressed and run out of here. To go home and pretend that this never happened. But as I reach for my clothes, I look at Chetan and see that he is sporting a fully hard erection.

Before I could react, Chetan scoops me off of my feet and carries me into the master bedroom. He tosses me onto the king-sized bed. I look about the room and see pictures of Chetan and his wife on the wall as he climbs on the bed and begins kissing and caressing me again.

"No, Chetan. We can't do this again. Especially not here."

All I can think of is having Chetan inside of me while images of his wife look down at us from the wall.

He is kissing my neck, my shoulders, stroking my arms, my thighs, my breasts, licking and sucking my nipples. His touch is both soft and electric, so different from the forceful approach he'd taken before.

His fingers move between my legs and slowly penetrate me.

He finger fucks me and strokes my clit with his thumb, until I am gasping.

And then he is on top of me again, ignoring my objections as he thrusts his thick cock into my pussy.

I lay there, taking the pounding he is giving me, trying not to look at the pictures on the wall as he brings me to another orgasm.

Then I break. As much as I know this is wrong, I just look him in the eyes and say, "Boss, please let me ride your cock."

He rolls over, beside me on the bed, and for a moment I take in the sight of his strong, naked body, before shimmying down to lick his cock, starting at his balls and then moving to the tip. A few strokes of this, and then I lift the full, heavy organ upright and slide my open mouth over the tip, carefully lowering my head down until I have as much of him as I can take, then I ease back up and begin repeating the motions, enjoying his fullness in my mouth.

I can tell that he is enjoying it, by the low moaning noises he is making, but after a couple of minutes I lift my mouth from his cock and, still holding it upright, move up to straddle his body. I keep eye contact as I gently rub the head of his impressive organ up and down my slit, before slowly, inch by inch, lowering myself onto it.

Open, spread like that, it isn't too hard to swallow him inside my vagina, though he still feels big in me. As I finally come to rest on his hips, with my legs spread as wide as they will go, he smiles, but says nothing as he looks at me with lust filled eyes.

Slowly, I move up and down, feeling the incredible sensation of fullness, enjoying the sight of his powerful body beneath me.

The earlier fuck in the shower had shown me how amazing really deep penetration could feel. I want some more of that, and I know how to get it.

"That's fucking amazing, Vidya. You look gorgeous, and it feels fantastic to be so deep inside you." He tells me.

His hands move to my breasts, stroking and pinching my nipples in a way he knows by now gives me pleasure.

As I continue to travel the full length of his cock, up and down, he switches one hand to my pussy, teasing the lips and grazing the tip of my clit at first, slowly inserting his thumb into my slit until he is rubbing the whole area from the front to where his cock was entering my pussy. All the while he was smiling up at me, loving every moment of our fucking.

I am trying to delay my orgasm. Wanting to see if I can make him come first, but it seems that he has better control than me.

Oh my, I am cumming again. My climax is stronger than the ones in the shower. My legs tremble uncontrollably, and he has to move one strong hand to my shoulder to stop me from falling as his thumb and his cock just kept driving my orgasmic sensations higher.

I feel like the room is starting to spin. Chetan thrusts up into me, bucking me off the mattress, four, five, six times, before moaning loudly and throwing his head back as he begins cumming in my pussy.

We climax together until both are finished, then I collapse onto his chest and his big strong arms wrap around me.

We lay still for several minutes. I try to comprehend exactly what happened here today. Part of me is angry at Chetan, but I am so damn sexually fulfilled by what he has done to me.

We get up and get dressed. Then remake the bed so as not to give his wife any reason to suspect what had happened.

Chetan walks me to the door. I look up at him and say, "This has to be the last time. I cannot do this again. I must be loyal to Gopal. We can never do this again." The words just keep tumbling out of my mouth and I wonder if I am trying to convince him or me.

Chetan nods his head. "I understand, but I will always treasure this day, just as the last time with you. And never say never, Vidya."

"You're the boss." I agree. And I feel his eyes upon me as I walk away.