Desi Sex Stories Hello everyone, I, Satya, am back after a long time with a new story of my past encounters. I was 27 and single when my company finally transferred me to my hometown, Balasore, in Odisha after six years in the Konkan region of Maharashtra.
By mid-2020, the worst of the lockdown had loosened, but anyone coming from another state still had to take an antigen test. Mine came back positive.
Two weeks in a government quarantine center was the requirement. They had turned the old primary school building in my colony into one. When I reached Balasore that evening, the place was empty. No other people were there.
Mattresses in dusty classrooms, a bathroom at the end of a long corridor, ceiling fans turning over silence. I thought I would go mad from boredom. Everyone from my colony had already arrived and completed their quarantine by then.
Then my close friend Sourav called. His elder brother and bhabhi had arrived from Mumbai the same day. Only Seema Bhabhi’s report was positive. She had to stay in the same school for fourteen days. Sourav asked me, as a friend, to look after her — food, medicine, whatever she needed.
I had known Seema since her wedding. I used to visit their house because of Sourav. She was in her early thirties then, with a young son. I told Sourav not to worry. When I put the phone down, I felt something else beneath the concern. I would not be alone in that empty school.
She arrived just before dark. Her husband and the boy had come to drop her. The child held her pallu and would not let go. She kept kissing his hair and telling him it was only two weeks. Her eyes stayed wet until the car left. She stood at the gate watching the road long after they were gone.
She had two weeks of luggage. Folded sarees, a few cotton nighties, medicines, a photograph of her son. There were plenty of empty rooms, but she chose the classroom next to mine. The building felt too big at night to stay far, she said. She was also glad I was there.
Every afternoon someone from our homes left tiffin at the main gate. A security guard sat there till evening, then locked up and left. After that it was only the two of us. The first two days we talked a lot. She asked about the transfer, about Konkan, about coming home after six years.
I asked about Mumbai and her son. We grew comfortable faster than I expected. On the third night, the weather broke without warning. Heavy rain, thunder, then the power died. The whole school went dark. Corridors echoed. Seema came to my door with a torch, her voice small.
She said she could not sleep alone with the lightning like that. She asked me to bring my mattress and stay with her till the storm passed. I agreed. She helped me drag it into her classroom. We kept the mattresses a little apart at first. She was in a thin cotton nightie.
Every time thunder cracked, she flinched. Slowly, without speaking, she pulled her mattress against mine until they were joined. Then she turned toward me.
We gradually fell asleep. When I woke in the middle of the night, the storm had lowered.
The room was black except when lightning lit the windows. Seema had moved in too close to me in her sleep. Her ass was pressed to my crotch. The nightie did nothing. I went hard at once. My cock pushed into the crack of her ass through the cloth.
Months of lockdown had left me starved for sex. Having a woman this close made me forget she was Sourav’s bhabhi. I pressed against her and started moving my hips — small, dry thrusts. My hand went over the nightie, then in from the neckline.
She was not wearing a bra. My palm found her bare breast. I pressed it slowly. She moved. I froze. Instead of pulling away, she turned toward me. Her hand came down, found my cock, and closed around it. She started stroking me, eyes still shut.
I could not tell if she was awake or half-asleep, thinking I was her husband. I pulled her nightie up from the legs. It bunched at her thighs, and I could not get it higher. I stopped. She had gone still again. Her hand stayed on me but no longer moved. She had fallen deeper asleep.
I was afraid more movement would wake her fully. So, I stayed. I put my arm around her and held her like that. My cock against her, her hand loosely around me, her breast under my palm. So that in the morning she would know something had happened. I woke to sunlight and a space beside me.
Seema was in the corridor, already bathed, hanging her washed clothes on a line. I expected anger. She looked at me and smiled. She talked about the rain and the power as if nothing had happened, but her face kept turning red. I knew she had seen and felt everything when she woke before me.
I asked if she had slept well. She gave a small, naughty smile. “You’re pretending like you don’t know what happened.” I smiled back. She asked if I had a girlfriend. I said no. She asked how a young man like me had gone so long without company.
I told her the truth — I had only been with a few married women. She was surprised. Then I said I had never found anyone like her till now. She did not stop the conversation. She was enjoying it. That morning the talk turned personal. She asked about those earlier women. I told her.
Then she spoke about herself. After her son was born, sex at home had become rare and boring. Her husband was not interested the way he used to be. Last night had happened because she was half-asleep, she said, but she did not regret it.
After lunch she came to my door. We’ll take a nap. Keep the sheets joined like last night.” We lay down. I put my hand on her waist over the nightie. She did not stop me. I moved it slowly — hip, stomach, the side of her breast. Her breathing grew heavier.
I turned her face and kissed her. The kiss did not stay soft. I pulled the nightie up, then off. Her panties followed. She lay back in the afternoon light, heavy breasts, dark nipples, the small curve of her stomach. I took one breast in my mouth and sucked.
Then the other. My tongue went down her body. I circled her navel and sucked it. She squirmed. I spread her legs and put my mouth on her. She was already wet. I licked her, then sucked her clit with two fingers inside her. Her hips lifted. She held my head and said my name.
I took my clothes off and got over her. I rubbed the head against her and pushed in. Tight, hot. I went slow until I was fully inside, then started moving. Steady at first, then faster. Her legs came around me. The mattress creaked. I held her wrists and fucked her harder. She moaned without caring who might hear.
I pulled out, turned her, pulled her hips up. Doggy style. I pushed back in one thrust. She grabbed the edge of the mattress. I held her waist and pounded her, faster and rougher than before. Skin-on-skin thrusts sounded, filling the empty classroom. I reached around and rubbed her clit while I kept thrusting.
She came first — her body tightened, and she cried out, pushing back against me. I did not stop. A few more strokes and I came inside her, holding her hips tight until I finished. I apologized for coming inside without warning. She shook her head. She said she did not mind.
She would manage it. That night she did not wait. She pushed me onto my back, climbed on, and rode me until both of us came again. Later we turned and did 69 position on the same mattress.
The next afternoon I told her I wanted her ass. She was nervous as she never had it before. I used her moisturizer as lube and went slow. Once she relaxed, I went deeper. She bit the pillow and took it. The remaining ten days blurred together.
We used every empty part of that school. On the teacher’s table, her back on the wood. Bent over the students’ desks. In the corridor, from behind, while she held the iron grill with both hands.
In the playground, saree pulled up, open sky above us. The thing she liked most was lying on the teacher’s table while I stood at the edge and fucked her. She talked on the phone — to her husband, to her mother-in-law — keeping her voice even while I moved inside her.
When the two weeks ended, we went home. We did not stop. We booked hotels outside town for a few hours whenever she could leave the house. The next month she missed her period. She called and said she was sure it was mine. Then she decided to keep the baby and fool her husband.
She slept with her husband and shifted the dates in her head so he would believe the child was his. Gradually Sourav started noticing. Small things. The way she looked at me. The hours she was “out.” To keep him quiet, Seema agreed to let him have her too.
A few weeks after she delivered the baby, the two of us had a threesome with her. Sourav and I took her at the same time — one in her cunt, one in her ass in double penetration, sandwiching her.
The affair lasted for two years. Then her husband returned to Mumbai again as his work-from-home facility was over. She shifted with him and her kids.
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