She held on to my arm as she walked in tentative steps. Her skirt, a short pleated one I had gifted her just for this weekend, swayed, giving glimpses of her thighs. An inch of cleavage peaked naughtily out of her tank top under which she wore no bra. As the waiters did their best not to stare, I wondered if any of them had seen me slip her panties off and knew that my wife was not wearing any underwear at all.I helped Urvashi into the driver’s seat and buckled the seat belt.“Driver, hotel!” she said to me. opening her legs and flashing me her pussy.“Yes, memsaab.” I said, and started driving.Ten minutes later, I was worried to note that Urvashi was almost half-asleep as I drove through the serpentine mountain roads. I wondered if I had overdone the drinks. I wanted her horny and pliable, not passed out.Soon, we reached our destination. The car stopping made Urvashi came back to her senses partially.“Hotel?”“Not exactly.” I said.“Rishhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!” she whined. “I am. Then he gazed down into her face, her eyes aflame with what he assumed must be passion.She licked her pink lips seductively and purred, "Like what you see?" But she knew he did because his hardened cock was straining against her inner thigh, begging to be admitted. Still he stared, his gaze moving lower now, to her pale neck, swan-like and aristocratic, then down to her perfect breasts, covered only by a scrap of diaphanous material that seemed to shimmer in the dim light of her chamber. Below, though he could not see, he could feel that the same thin covering traced the line of her stomach and down, revealing more than it concealed.She laughed, a low throaty laugh like she was remembering a private joke, and then she suddenly pressed upward with her pelvis, driving it and him into the air and then dropping down again, causing him to slam into her pubis, making her cry out. Then he was hers, utterly. All thoughts of escape, denial, of anything but her body were driven from his.
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