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My loving abajaan Part 2

I guess it was the way I was sort of…seducing him, y’know? He was getting so excited at the sight and feel of me that it was turning me on too. His hand started to close on my breast, and he cupped it with a light touch, sort of lifting an weighing it. My nipple was hard and felt hot and sensitive, and I licked my own lips as his thumb slipped over it, stroking it lightly. “Go ahead, Abbajaan,” I whispered. “I want you to.” He squeezed my breast, his breathing becoming more ragged as he became less and less restrained, and worked his fingers into the soft meat with more and more enthusiasm. “Oh, baby,” he gasped. I laid back against his arm as he stroked and squeezed and kneaded my breasts. Then watched in satisfaction as he bent and began to lick, then suckle at my nipple. I felt exultant that he was so happy, so excited, and sighed in pleasure as his tongue and lips moved on my nipples. There was even a kind of sexual excitement in me, mostly from having turned him on so high.

But also from the tingling in my breasts as he worked on them. Basheer had never spent that much time on my breasts. Mostly he just squeezed them real hard, in a way that was more painful than pleasurable, and bit on them a little. Abbajaan was stroking and caressing them in a way nobody ever had, his fingers pinching the nipples lightly, rolling them and squeezing them. His tongue lapped over the hard pink buds, and his lips suckled as he drew them, one at a time, into his mouth. They felt so…hot in his mouth, the way his mouth sucked, the way his tongue licked, and the odd little nibbling with his teeth. My breasts felt hot and swollen, and the nipples throbbed with excitement and electricity in a way they never had before. I was surprised that he was spending so long, but in no hurry for him to stop.

Nobody had ever spent so much effort on my titties before, and they were feeling so good as a result that I was amazed. I found my heart beating faster, my blood flowing more strongly. I also felt a kind of tingling heat between my legs, down in my lower belly, a moist, warm, heaviness that made me feel really nice. Abbajaan finally gripped the hem of my dress and slid it upwards, and I shifted so he could pull it out from under my behind. I raised my hands as he slid the dress up and off, and then sat back in just my little string bikini panties as he resumed stroking and squeezing my breasts. I felt just a bit embarrassed about him seeing me like this, but he was my Abbajaan, after all, so it didn’t matter. He’d seen me naked lots of times when I was little. His fingers slid into the string of my panties, gripped it, and tugged them slowly down.

I felt a quivering anxiety as my softly furred choot was exposed to his eyes for the first time. My face flushed a little in embarrassment as he pulled my panties down and off. Then I was utterly naked, and Abbajaan’s hands moved smoothly over my body. I raised my head and he slid a hand behind it, then kissed me on the lips. He pulled back, but I moved forward, pressing my lips against him again, this time opening my mouth. I slid my tongue back and forth along his lips, then dipped it into his mouth to meet his own. I felt his other hand sliding up and down over my breasts, then moving down my belly and in between my legs. He cupped my khasta choot and squeezed, and I gasped in pleasure, feeling heat flood into me. His fingers kneaded my khasta choot meat as our tongues slid together with growing passion. I was breathing harder and heavier, and my body was growing more excited.

I ground myself on his hand, gasping and moaning in heat as pleasure rolled over my mind. ” Abbajaan!” I gasped. “Oooh! Oohhhh! Unhhhhh!” I felt a finger pierce me, cleaving the folds of my tight, warm, slick khasta choot lips and sliding up into my fuck hole. I gasped again and humped against it, astonished at my own excitement, shocked at the pleasure boiling through me. I humped on his finger, then felt a second enter me. “Yess! Yess! Ohhh! Abbajaan! Abbajaan! Ooohh!” I panted. “You like that, baby?” he gasped. “Ooohh!” He thrust his fingers up to the knuckles inside me and I ground myself helplessly against them, then his thumb pressed down on my clit and he squeezed up with his fingers. He caught my clitty between them and rolled it rapidly back and forth. The heat fire roared up like a bonfire with gas thrown on it. I cried out in shocked pleasure, arching my back and jerking spastically. My ass ground against his thighs and I humped desperately as an orgasm, the first of my life, ripped through my body.

I thrashed and shook as Abbajaan held me down with one hand and jerked me off with the other. I gasped and panted and whined, slamming my head back into the arm of the sofa again and again as my nervous system crackled and burned in orgiastic pleasure. Then I went limp, panting for breath, chest heaving as I lay there in languorous aftermath, astonished and dazed. Abbajaan leaned over and kissed my left breast, then pulled his fingers out of me and stood up, hefting me in his arms. He walked upstairs to his bedroom, the master bedroom, what had been my parents’ bedroom as long as I could remember, a place I wasn’t permitted to enter. He carried me through the door and set me down on the bed, then calmly undid the buttons of his shirt and removed it. He undid his pants and pushed the zipper down.

I stared at it, at the zipper, laying there naked on his bed, and watched as his pants slid down. He stepped out of them, and my eyes focused on the bulging erection in his boxer shorts. Then he jerked them down and off, and was naked, naked like me. He was still powerfully built. I was a small woman, having taken after my mother, but Abbajaan was well over six feet tall, and very strong. His lund was thick and hard, bigger than Basheer’s had been, not so much longer as…thicker. It was hard and hairy and dark, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it as he crawled into bed. He lifted my legs up and apart, then set them down on the bed. I raised my knees, my feet flat on the bed as Abbajaan knelt there between them, stroking his hands over my breasts and belly. Then he slid forward over me, his body pressing against mine, sliding over my skin until were face to face, eye to eye, groin to groin. His weight was heavy on me, but familiar, from Basheer.

I could feel his entire body with mine, his flesh against me, his chest pressing down my breasts. He kissed me, and I slid my arms around him and kissed him back, filled with love and devotion. He stroked my breasts, and ran his hand up and down my body. I felt his lund, hard and thick, laying between our bellies. He raised his hips and gripped his lund, then pressed the head against my choot crack. I felt it catch at the small hole, then press forward. My choot spread around it and it slid down inside me. I groaned in pleasure as it spread my khasta choot tunnel wide. My choot strained but not painfully. There was just this wonderful..full…sensation. I felt packed with his lund, felt it filling my belly, and rejoiced in it. It twisted as he moved atop me, and I mewled in pleasure as it stirred my insides. His lips and mine sought each other again and our tongues slithered together.

Then he began to grind himself into me, a slow, grinding movement that made his lund rub over my clitty with hard, steady pressure. The pressure built up in my skull again and I drew my knees back and apart more, moaning and sighing in happiness. “Fuck me, Abbajaan!” I panted. “Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” He gripped my head in his hands and crushed my lips with his, then began to pump his lund in me, using a slow but hard stroke, his lund sliding back and forth through my steamy, burning khasta choot tube as his ass rose and fell. He let go of my head, and his hands slid down under me, cupping my ass, digging into the soft meat as he fucked harder. He jerked my ass upwards to meet his thrusts, and I grunted with the impact as his lund thrust hard into me, his hips struck my thighs bruisingly, and my choot burned hotter and harder and higher. “Oh, Jesus! Oh God!” he panted. “Oh baby! Baby!’ “Fuck me, Abbajaan! Fuck me, Abbajaan!” I cried, trying to hump back against him.