Could There Be A Better Selection Of Words? Or Expression?

Hello.. i(and hope many other guys) like to know the city you grow in.. and city you live in..???? No need of age bcause a women like you age is just number.. your experiences as you share have 100 of years data and yet your energy for sexuality sounds like a teen age girl...

Thank you for the question. The answer is same for both the cities. Born and brought up in the same city. At one point of time it used to be the capital of my country. That should be enough to tell you which city I am from without having to name it explicitly here.

Stains

Funny and memory provoking as they are, they can be a source of major embarrassment also. I did write a while ago my thoughts about the “place”. https://shefaali-india.tumblr.com/post/169724995357/your-place-or-mine-a-thought-sharing-onthe

On one such assignment, I was in a really posh hotel, one with pristine white sheets and the inevitable happened where the fluids spilled over and out from us on the silky white bedsheet. The next morning when he had finished doing what he got me there for, we got dressed and much to our embarrassment, there were bright, big, orange stains on the relevant part of the bedsheet, which no matter what explanations we gave, would tell only the single story of truth.

Memories (a repost from long ago)

There are thousands of photos blogged and re-blogged here. Once in a while a photo comes which reminds me of a memory. This one was one such (before the Tumblr Gods decided it was not found tasteful and hence they blocked my post.

This is a repost.

It was around the time when my stag (not my husband) had been trying to convert me into a hotwife. If you have read my previous blogs you would have known about his shared-pleasure policy, which I won’t elaborate here ‘coz it’s already written in length previously.

My husband’s posting abroad helped my stag to take liberty to propose me to other men of his choice. A couple of instances of his ‘weekend sharing’ and thereafter meeting a few known bulls later, he was trying to induct me to unknown bulls. Needless to mention his own need of getting his share of pleasure from me was no less and to that end he would at times plan for weekend vacations to nearby coastal towns and resorts. For the most time we would be indoor and he would indulge himself with me while teaching me various ways to attract potential bulls.

It was one of those vacations to a remote resort, quite removed from the nearest town. There were a few other fellow lodgers as well, mostly couples, and in some cases friends out for a good time. He drove me there and pretty soon was doing what he wanted to do to me. We got quite late for dinner that evening because he was in mood to not stop and get dressed. He opted to go down to the restaurant and was dressed in shorts and a tee and allowed me to put on a saree but being him, i wasn’t allowed to wear a bra under my blouse.

We found the restaurant mostly vacant except for two couples who were slightly away and two senior gentlemen close by who appeared to be old friends out for a quiet time away from their family, enjoying their drink in a very civilized manner. My disheveled hair and creased and hurried dress wasn’t unnoticed and I could sense that they realized what my ‘man’ had been doing with me before we came down to dinner. Could almost see their hidden smile and knowing wink to each other about us.

My stag happened to notice their attention as well. He asked me if I am game for a bit of hotwife training right now. I had no idea how he was about to make it happen, but I guessed he really wanted me to be proposed by these two gentlemen who were intrigued by my presence. For the sheer fun of it I consented. He said that he would want to make a bit of public display of affection such that their attention is secured on me. He would then feign a very urgent call and leave the hotel while asking me to stay here itself. I was to act helpless without his presence. He was hopeful of the two gentlemen proposing me after they see me alone and helpless and seek my company for the night.

So he started holding my hand and occasionally bend forward to kiss me while we were seated at the table, or to place his arms across my shoulders pulling me closer. We realized we were being observed by who we wanted to be observed by. While the dinner was being served he received a ‘call’ on his mobile and sounding disturbed and agitated walked out of the restaurant because ‘the mobile signal was too weak inside’. His PDA had already attracted the attention and now his agitated voice further piqued the interest of our proposed bulls. Long story short, as per our arrangement, my stag made a show of urgency and left the hotel while I sat at the dinner table. We ensured that they heard his, “I will be back by mid-day tomorrow”. As we had anticipated, I could see the two of them talking to each other in a hushed tone while i silently ate my dinner. After a while one of them approached me and asked if i was in any trouble because they could see my ‘husband’ leave in a hurry.

I said, ‘I am feeling a bit insecure because we came here to spend the weekend and now there is someone in his family who has fallen critically ill and he had to rush. He said he will be back tomorrow and I am all alone here, feeling a bit lost’. He motioned his friend who then came across and joined us at my table. I told them ‘this is so unexpected as I had come here for a romantic getaway and I never expected it to end so abruptly that too half way through’. They both laughed at my frustrated voice and said that they couldn’t help but see how eager my husband was for the romantic part…and then they added, “why blame him? I would have been as eager too if i had been with a woman like you in this resort”. All three of us laughed and I said, ‘you must be joking. I am sure your wives also miss being with attractive men like you. I know I would have been attracted had i been single’. They laughed at my joke and said, ‘well right now you are’. And we had a laugh…I was happy to see the ice walls being broken between us.

As expected the proposal followed quite quickly that they are willing to give me company either at my room or theirs so that i don’t feel afraid. I made a show of being in two minds as to whether to allow two random men to spend the night with me, and eventually I said, ‘I guess it would be ok if I come over to your room as I don’t want my husband to have any wrong impression by seeing two unknown men in his wife’s room’. They both immediately nodded their agreement.

I went to my room to collect the condoms and put them in my purse before meeting them and being escorted to their cottage which wasn’t a part of the main building. They made me relax and asked me to feel comfortable on their bed as they said they will adjust the three of us somehow. They offered me some drinks to help me relax. We sat on the bed and were talking, me between them. They commented on my not wearing a bra. I feigned surprise and said, oh is that visible from outside? One of them said “how can a virile man not take notice of those lovely breasts that you got and we then saw those ‘tight bullet buttons’ popping out from under the fabric of the blouse and we knew your husband was using his wife’s assets and probably wanted to use them more and so brought her down to dinner without getting the assets covered by the bra”. We laughed and i said, ‘yeah, we both hoped he would do many more things to his wife and then destiny betrayed him and now he’s gone and I have lost all hopes’. The insistence started that I let them see the assets that they have so admired from under the fabric…I knew this is exactly how it was to happen. So after some playful reluctance I unbuttoned my blouse. They saw my stag’s bite marks on them and exclaimed at them. I told them ‘my husband is quite a biter and I was expecting more but then he had to go away’.

I believe it’s easy to understand the next sequence and eventually when they were ready to initiate sex I asked them to use condoms at least. Both said that they weren’t hoping of getting this lucky and had not been carrying any. I said I might have a few in my bag which my husband was to use. I then handed them the condoms.

To draw an end, i ended up staying with them almost till midday being repeatedly shared between the two friends, jointly and individually before I returned to my room and called my stag to say it’s safe for him to return now.

The photo that was here reminded me of them as each took his turn repeatedly while the other watched or took photos.

Losing oneself

Men are sweet, men are funny and men are really cute.

I love to see how the men, irrespective of their ownership status with respect to me, i.e. be it any of the several capacities in which I (as a woman) am related to the men in my life, transform into the various degrees of being cute with passage of time.

At the onset of sex it would be more look and feel and touch and grope and tease and torture and smiles and giggles. As time passes and he ensures that he has established complete ownership over me, he starts settling down and the usage of his hands and mouth are relatively lesser and his waist and hips take over gradually to initiate the primal pleasurable motion.

Once he starts getting into the groove eventually he stops using all his facilities except for his hips that pistons his swollen erection in and out of my vagina. He goes into a state of trance and all the other parts of me that attracted him till literally a few moments earlier, now takes a back seat. His body remains laid on top of mine, my breasts crushed under his huge chest, sometimes his face remains lifted and his eyes fixated with mine though they are more in a trance-like state being immersed in the pleasure of sex, or their face is placed next to mine on the pillow. His entire body remains motionless except his hips that keeps intensifying the thrusting motion, sending me shudders of intense pleasure while I try to grab and hold him as tightly as I can, often scratching his back unknowingly in the process till I die a mini death in my own orgasm or he spills his precious seeds all inside me marking the end of that session of our copulation.

Having transferred his seeds to me, he, all of a sudden would regain his control over all the other facilities that he had lost, i.e. his hands that would cuddle me again and feel my breasts, his smile, his mouth as he would kiss me again, before slumping down in exhaustion to recover while rejoicing in the aftermath of pleasure (…till he started the whole process again).

Men are sweet, men are funny and men are really cute.

intelligence is the ultimate aphrodisiac

there is no woman as beautiful as a woman who is willing to please you, though i am pretty sure u are a sexy bengali beauty but your ultimate beauty is your WAYS…and trust me….its amazing.

__________________________________________ PS: This is a note someone wrote to me…

This hurried, no time to waste, let’s get to action ASAP is a typical reminder of my bf from the swimming club. Hand holding apart, no sooner am i inside his apartment, I would find myself pushed to the wall with him beginning to pleasure me.

How do we know you are a real woman and not a man trying to be a lady? No offence intended but just curious. it is the internet after all.

Dear “Anonymous”, there is no way you can know that. So feel free to hold onto your belief. It indeed is the internet after all and you should be cautious and avoid my blog at all costs. Because you chose to use ‘anonymous’, I would tend to believe you already are following my posts, in which case I would strongly recommend you to refrain.

https://mewe.com/p/shefaalispage

Cheap

[Cheap; Low in price, especially in relation to similar items or services; Inexpensive because of inferior quality.]

It was a cheap hotel. One that he found on the fly. One that he knew will not ask too many questions or proof of identity from either of us. One that wasn’t in either of our locations and one where once we came out of it, nobody will question and (hopefully) wouldn’t know where we came from or where we are headed towards. One where the ‘management’ knew the purpose of the rooms being let out, sometimes only at an hourly rate because it was often uncertain for the guests to decide beforehand the time that would spend indoor. One with a dim yellow bulb inside it which barely about let the couple see each other. One where the room had the bare essentials, a bed (double bed; they knew single rooms were useless for their purpose) with sheets which often are not exactly the cleanest, but also acceptable enough to use for the brief period while we were there, a small bedside table to keep the various ‘items’ which are typically involved, wall hooks and cheap plastic hangers to rest our clothes when they are not being used (which is about the most part of the time that we’re there), and a bathroom which had a shower which sprinkled just about the water required to ‘remove traces’ and be ‘civilized’ when we would step out of the room. One where the rickety wooden bed squeaked and creaked in the rhythm of the violent movements it so often endured. One where a passer by outside the room can hear the noise and voices and expressions of pain & pleasure (unless the inmates are completely muffled and stifled) and will still not bother because he/she would be more eager to get inside their own room (the irony being it is to remove the muffles and shackles from one’s mind that one has entered upon those premises in the first place). One where the rooms had that typical smell of being used for a certain purpose. One that would upon entering it, or even approaching it through the passage, would remind one of the purpose for which couples enter inside. One that will imprint on the memory that we are not the same anymore when we exit the room.

He took me there because the place we both are from, there exists a strong social/financial-status bias. While neither he nor me cared about the bias, we knew once “it” is over we would need to return to our respective neighbourhoods. And the bias would have raised questions if I were to invite him to my house…and his wife being a homemaker, his house was out of bounds. Thus was the need for him to identify the hotel.

I knew that I was fascinated by his ruggedness and coarse behaviour, and strange as it may sound the use of his words which were ‘absolutely unacceptable’ in the so-called society I belong to, and yet words, which instigated in me an uncontrollable desire to be his personally owned whore, to let him have his way around (and on) me. He was a bull, who I selected for myself, someone I knew for a brief while from before and developed the need to be together. For him, it was getting a high-society ‘housewife’ free for his personal use, which motivated him to spare the money on the hotel room. It didn’t take him a moment’s shyness to get rid of his own clothes, but did take some cajoling and maybe a slight exertion of force to tear the inner clothes off me despite our mutual knowledge that that’s why we were there, so he would ensure he gets his return from paying for the room rentals. It came naturally to him to get on top of me and move himself, but it took some convincing by him to get me on top of him to have myself so exposed as opposed to when under him, his body would keep me shadowed underneath it, that too with the lights on. He did had to pay extra because we used the room for a while longer than he estimated initially. I suppose he liked it more than he thought he would.

Love this blog. I am an American, but always find Indian women so beautiful.

Thank you for your kind compliment. The entire world loves the Indian woman. 😉😉. Just kidding.