ASYA OS "Desk Job" Updated Pg. 3

Share
Posted: 2013-09-26T14:23:06Z
PART I


"Sir, there's a woman here to meet you."
 
"Who is she?"
 
"She won't give her name, just keeps saying that she will only speak with you and that it's private and very urgent."
 
"Just handle her Prasad."
 
"Sir, she is speaking loudly and creating a scene."
 
He sighed.
 
"Ok, send her in."
 
He rubbed his brow in frustration. What was this about? He didn't have time for any crap. There was too much going on already and his brain was fried.
 
He heard heels clicking sharply on the floor and looked up to see a slender woman covered in a burqa marching up the hall.
She barged into his office, slammed the door shut and planted her hands on her hips.
 
"You!" she growled and stabbed a finger in the air pointing at him.
 
"Yes, how may I help you?"
 
She burst out laughing.
 
Zoya?
 
What the hell?
 
"Ms. Farooqui," he pretended annoyance, ignoring his accelerated heartbeat. He got out of his chair to stand by the desk with his arms crossed forbiddingly, "what's the meaning of this?"
 
She lifted the veil and his heart constricted looking at the cherubic face framed in black.
 
"Why are you in this get up? What are you planning?"
 
Ignoring him, she untied the strap under her chin and swung her hair free.
 
He uncrossed his arms, restlessly balled his fists and then crossed his arms again and waited. He knew there was no point asking her questions. She'd answer only when she was good and ready.
Not even then may be.
 
But his interest was piqued. What the hell was she up to?
 
She started to undo the front of the burqa and his pulse leaped.
 
She shimmied out of it and let it fall to a puddle at her feet.
 
His mouth went dry.
 
She was wearing that damn mini-skirt! He groaned and moved to position himself behind the chair casually resting his elbows on the back.
 
"Ms. Farooqui, what is wrong with you!" he growled and grabbed the remote to swing the blinds shut on the plate glass wall behind her.
 
That day he had blown a fuse seeing her in the mini skirt when the Maulvi sahib had come. Lack of decorum had been his primary focus then, but now he couldn't look past those creamy legs.
In heels they looked elongated ... neverending. A vision of them wrapped around his waist came leaving him hard and breathless.
 
That skirt was too damned short and it even had a slit up the side exposing more skin! How did he miss the slit that day? Oh, that's right, because he hadn't dared look below her eyes. Because he knew if he looked lower he would be undone.
Like he was right now.
 
She kicked her leg up to swing the puddle of black fabric into her arms and his body jerked. That flash of extra skin made his mouth water and body harden. He nearly moaned aloud.
 
She flung the material on the sofa and sashayed up to him. Was he seeing things or was there a definite jiggle to her breasts. Standing in front of him with her hip jutting to the side, she purred, "like what you see?"
 
He swallowed. He couldn't take his eyes off her breasts and suddenly he saw two peaks jut out against the fabric of her shirt. Oh dear god, have mercy! Was she not wearing a bra? He swallowed harder.
 
Zoya looked at his adam's apple bob and felt a rush of relief and heat. She didn't know what type of guts, gall and gumption had carried her all the way here to be standing a mere three feet away from jahanpanah offering up herself like this.
 
But she was just so mad and frustrated with him. She knew he cared for her, felt something for her but never said anything. He tried to, but never once got beyond the "voh ... actually ... main" part.
 
Today she was going to make him say it. And no matter what bizarre tricks she had to perform or play, she'd die before she left his office without him having said what he really felt about her.
 
He saw the pulse at her throat pound and her breasts rise and fall and knew that she was affected by that zing of awareness between them too.
 
"What's going on Ms. Farooqui?" he asked huskily.
 
She swallowed, "you tell me."
 
He leaned in straining to hear her. He didn't miss her gasp.
 
He slowly smiled and it infuriated her. Oh, so he knew that she was a mess of quivering nerves, did he? She licked her lips nervously and missed his sharp intake of breath.
 
She walked around his desk and slithered up to sit on it, crossing her legs, and letting the spiky mule dangle and lazily swing on her toes. His eyes were riveted to that silver strap over her toes painted a mouth-watering blush pink. He watched, hypnotized, the heel swing from its weight ... back ... and ... forth, back ... and ... forth.
Her heart was hammering with fear and desire. And her hands were clammy. But dammit to hell, it was do or die at this point. She had had enough of his dithering and if this provoked a response, then so be it.
 
He shook himself from his trance and groaned loud and clear.
 
"What happened Mr. Khan?" she asked innocently.
 
"Stop playing these games Ms. Farooqui!"
 
"What games? And when will you stop calling me Ms. Farooqui? We are engaged for god's sake!"
 
He glared at her. "Get down and go home!"
 
Her heart pounded with the fear of having bitten off more than she could chew on. She felt an icy stab at his rejection.
 
But she wouldn't let him see it.
 
He saw her mouth droop slightly and her lashes sweep her paled cheeks for a flash. A fist squeezed his heart.
 
Swallowing hard and clearing her throat she asked firmly, "why do you only say my name when ... I'm in trouble? Why do you always go back to calling me Ms. Farooqui when ... I'm ... fine." God, she couldn't even find the right words to say something as simple as that.
 
He said nothing and turned his back to her, shoving his hands in his pockets.
 
"I said go home, Ms. Farooqui," he ground out tightly through gritted teeth.
 
She slid off the table and wobbled. She smoothed her skirt down nervously.
 
"Why are you marrying me, Mr. Khan?" she asked out of nowhere. Her voice had a hollow ring that slashed him.
 
"What kind of a question is that? You know the answer. Ammi wanted it."
 
"Are you only doing it for phuphi?" She was grateful to be posing her questions to his rigid back. She didn't know if she could look into his eyes. She didn't know that she was digging her nails in her palms.
 
"Yes," he answered after a long time.
 
Her eyes blurred.
 
"But why me?"
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"I mean you could get married to anyone you wanted to. Why not someone like Tanveer who is more the type of woman you would have wanted your wife to be?"
 
She waited for him to answer but he remained silent.
 
She dashed the lone tear away but grew bolder.
 
"Why did you say yes to marrying a musibat and misfit like me? You keep saying I'm so different from you, and have no tehzeeb or ... or ... or lihaaz for relationships?" Her voice broke miserably at the last words and he turned to step toward her, his hands beseeching.
 
"No," she held out her arm in protest. "I don't want your pity."
 
She felt exposed and cheap suddenly. What was she thinking? Why had she come here dressed like a trashy sl*t? She wished she could disappear into thin air.
 
She ran toward the sofa to grab the burqa and fumbled with it. She had her back to him. The more entangled she got with it the harder she sobbed.
 
"Zoya," he moaned her name. She turned slightly, looked up sharply through her streaming eyes and saw him coming towards her.
 
"No," she held out her hand to ward him off. She caught sight of the ring on her finger.
 
"You know what, Mr. Khan," she sobbed, "I don't think we should get married. I'm not the right girl for you. You've said as much so many times."
 
She started to tug the ring off her finger. His hand clamped down hard on hers, "Zoya, no!"
 
"Let me go," she shrugged off his hand.
 
"I have no family, no manners, you don't like the way I dress, or speak, or act, so I don't understand why you would want to marry me."
 
She scrubbed the tears off her face. "You should marry Tanveer. She's perfect for you. She knows you well and behaves like a good Indian woman and wife should."
 
"Zoya, please stop," he tried to hold her by her forearms.
 
She continued babbling, "she's beautiful, phuphi thinks of her as a daughter, you treat her so nicely."
She couldn't go on and broke down to collapse on the sofa, the burqa still clutched in her hands. She remembered all the times he had glared at her disapprovingly and yelled at her for being irresponsible. She hid her face in the fabric miserably. Oh god, what was she thinking? Why did she come here and make such a colossal fool of herself?
 
He knelt by her side. "Please don't do this."
 
"Why?" she lashed out. "I know I'm not right for you, you've told me so a thousand times. She's not clumsy or annoying or scarred." She remembered that she had intended to give him the ring and went back to yanking it off.
 
"Zoya!" he grabbed her hand, "stop it!"
 
She looked at him in alarm.
 
"I'm sorry. I'm so stupid. I don't know why I came." She got up hurriedly and tried to slip the burqa on.
 
He grabbed her arm. "What do you mean scarred?"
 
She covered her trembling mouth and looked away.
 
"Nothing," she said in a small voice.
 
"Zoya."
 
"I have a burn scar on my arm," she mumbled. "Are you happy now? I'm sure your precious Tanu is unblemished."
 
"Will you forget about Tanveer for a minute! What does she have to do with anything?"
 
"Because she is right for you and I don't know why you agreed to marry someone defective like me!" She yelled back.
 
"What the hell are you talking about? And will you stop taking that ring off, dammit."
 
She took a deep breath and wiped her face clear of tears. "Look Mr. Khan, I know that you fake proposed to me to stop me from leaving India. I appreciate that, and I also know that you got trapped into continuing it because of phuphi's health."
"But this is your whole life. You shouldn't throw it away on someone like me."
 
"Just shut up Zoya!" He grabbed her by her upper arms and almost shook her. "What's gotten into you? What nonsense are you babbling on about?"
 
"Oh really? I'm talking nonsense? Here I am trying to give you a way out of this fake nikaah and all you can say is shut up with this nonsense?" She threw back at him.
 
"Who said I want out of this nikaah?"
 
"Haven't you been paying attention to what I've been saying? You want out of this."
 
"Funny, I don't remember ever saying it." He drawled.
 
Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. She dashed them away furiously. "Then what have you been trying to say for so many days? You keep talking of how different we are." She hid her face in the burqa again. He yanked it from her hands and threw it away.
He saw her lips quiver. "Don't you think I know that and know how you think I'm not good enough for you?"
 
It broke his heart to keep hearing her bash herself. He had always thought her so supremely self-confident. Had he broken that in her with his anger first, and then his awkward silence?
 
He held up his hands. "I know I say that we are different, but I don't mean that you are deficient or defective."
 
"Then what do you mean?" She shouted.
 
"First stop pulling that ring off your finger. It's there to stay! I didn't put it on your finger to have you yank it off."
 
She took it off and tossed it at his face.
 
He glared at her breathing hard. He yanked her to him and she slammed into his chest. Her eyes skittered up to his in alarm.
 
"Zoya! Pick it up," he growled dangerously.
 
"No!"
 
"Why did you do that, damn you?" He shook her.
 
"Because it's a ring for a fake engagement. And, I won't fake marry you!" She snarled back.
 
"There's nothing fake about any of this," he roared and crashed his lips on to hers. Her eyes popped and mouth parted in shock. He slid his tongue in and she moaned. His hands stroked her jaw and throat as he sucked her lower lip. His hips ground into hers.

Her eyelids drooped in surrender and her hands crept up his neck.
 
"Zoya," he breathed.
 
She clung helplessly to him. He brushed her lips with his thumb and swooped in again to suck her lips and thrust his tongue in to find and dance with hers. His fingers dug into her waist as he drew her into his heat and hardness.
 
"Don't you know what you mean to me? Can't you feel how real this is?" He framed her face in his hands.
 
"Mr. Khan?"
 
He put his finger on her lips.
 
"You know I'm not good with words. At least not words that express my feelings. You are the one who calls me emotionally challenged." He kissed up her face to her ear. "Don't ever say that you're not good enough for me. It's me who's not good enough for you!"
 
She opened her mouth to protest and he bent to kiss her again. He backed her into the wall and ravaged her mouth and then trailed kisses down the pulse throbbing in her throat. He sucked and laved the arch of her neck. "Zoya, why do I have to tell you how I feel? Can't you feel it? Can't you tell what I feel for you?" He kissed her again, "tell me that you love me too."
 
She was dazed with a sensation overload. Her body was jolted into a heated response but his words made her heart sing.
 
It was her turn to frame his face in her hands. "Mr.Khan, you crazy stupid man, of course I love you! Do you think I would have said yes if I didn't?"
 
He crushed her in his arms.
 
"Oh god, when I saw you in that skirt!"
 
He trailed his hands over her bottom and gripping it, rubbed her into him.
 
He continued to rain tiny kisses on the side of her neck making her breathless. "You want to know why I call you Ms. Farroqui? I've fought my feelings for you from the start. If I said your name out loud, the whole world would have known that I was head over heels in love with you."
 
His hands crept up her waist and higher.
 
"Since when?" she asked breathlessly, her heart racing and throat dry.
 
"I've loved you since the first day I saw you crying at the dargah." He continued to kiss her hungrily, "I didn't know how to say it, but hoped that my actions spoke loud and clear."
 
He lifted her in his arms and sat her on his desk. Then he went to find the ring that she had flung at him. Locating it under the coffee table he came and knelt before her. He looked at her, an eyebrow raised. She smiled and shyly extended her hand.
Trust him not to say a word! He kissed her hand and looking up at her said, "sit like you were sitting earlier."
 
She looked at him quizzically. He looked at her legs rakishly. She blushed and crossed her legs seductively.
 
"Unhh, so luscious!" Still on his knee he lifted her swinging foot and kissed her ankle. He smiled as he heard her sharp intake of breath but missed the goosebumps on her arms. Locking his eyes with hers, he trailed kisses and little nips and bites up her leg to knee.
She rubbed her thighs together as her skin tingled.
With his hand he stroked the back of her knee and she shuddered. He half rose to kiss her up her thigh. She was leaning back now, with her head thrown back making soft moaning sounds.
 
She opened her eyes. Wha ...?
 
He had stopped.
She looked at him and saw him removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie. His eyes snagged on her nipples pebbling through her shirt. Her eyes widened with desire. She hopped off and untucked his shirt from his pants gazing into his eyes.
 
"Here?" she asked.
 
"Right here." He promised.
 
"What if someone comes ... or hears us?" She blushed.
 
"Soundproof, and I had just cleared all my meetings before you came."
 
"I haven't come as yet," she breathed huskily. His heart raced and breath hitched.
 
He put her back up on the table and widened her legs, to stand between them. His hands stroked her bare thighs on the outside, snaking in under her skirt. He bent his head and closed his mouth around one peek-a-boo nipple. Oh yes, no bra. Damn she was hot!

She felt dizzy with pleasure and her head fell back. With one hand he traced the slit up her thigh and then bent his head lower to lick up her slit. She gripped his shoulders arching her back, "Asad!"

His blood leaped to hear his name on her mouth. He rose to kiss her swollen lips, "say my name again." He stroked the tops and insides of her thighs with his thumbs and fingers.
 
"Asaaad," she moaned.
 
"Tell me what you want me to do you." He kissed down her throat and up again to her ear. "tell me, Zoya," he growled.
 
She felt shy. He licked the hollow of her neck and she jerked. "Tell me, show me," he urged.
 
She grabbed his hands and forced them higher on her thighs. "Touch me," she ordered.
 
He slowly moved his hands up her thighs. She grabbed his face and directed his mouth to the other nipple. "Suck me."
He did, hungrily.
 
His thumbs now stroked her inner thighs, and she moved restlessly on the tabletop urging him to be quicker and granting him more access by pulling up her skirt and widening her legs. She grew frustrated that he would not go up higher.
 
"Asad," she pleaded. "Please!"
 
"Please what?"
 
"Touch me!"
 
"I am touching you," he teased.
 
"No, higher, please," she moaned.
 
He laughed softly and it drove her mad. She pushed the papers and stationery on his table aside, kicked off her heels and lay down with the balls of her feet resting at the edge of the table. Her skirt had ridden all the way up to her hips. He could see that she wasn't wearing panties.
 
"Oh god, Zoya!" he moaned.
 
He grabbed her legs to rest them on his shoulders and nibbled on the inside of her thigh. She was swollen and wet with desire already parting and waiting for his touch. Her hands blindly groped for his head.
 
"Please Asad, stop tormenting me." She wiggled her hips on the table. "Touch me, lick me, PLEASE! I need you!" She cried out harshly, thrashing her head restlessly on the tabletop. "You want me to tell you what I want? Suck my c*nt!" She sobbed with need.
 
His body jolted with desire. Her raw words drove him to the brink. He swooped and thrust his tongue to taste her as he used his fingers to gently part her moist and heated flesh. Her body jerked and a harsh cry escaped her mouth. His tongue hotly swept her up and down and in circular motions and she writhed under him for release. With both hands he parted her more and dove in to tease the soft layers with firmer strokes of his marauding tongue.

She grabbed his hair. "Oh yes baby, that's the spot." Her hips swayed in a crazed response as he bit her and soothed the bite with a firm tongue rub. "Oh, Asad, aah, AAHH!" She clenched her muscles and keened desperately, coming in a rush as his tongue strummed the tiny stud hard, moving back and forth against it feverishly.
 
He lifted his head and rose, swiping the back of his hand against his mouth. He looked punch drunk, and she half-rose to pull him down by his tie to taste herself on him.

He continued to stroke her intimately with his fingers now, and she jumped as she moaned in his mouth. Her flesh was overstimulated and the rasp of his fingers against it felt unbearably electric. She recoiled away, but immediately re-sought the dizzying pressure and sensation. As they broke apart she still writhed from his fresh ministrations. She took off her shirt so that he would end the sweet torture and focus his mouth and hands elsewhere.
 
"Zoya, you are so bold, and so damn sexy!" he moaned and bent his head to take a perky nipple greedily into his mouth. "This is better than any fantasy of mine." She arched her back and moaned under the double assault. With his hand between her legs he continued to rub her swollen and still throbbing bud. With his other thumb he flicked and teased her nipple.
 
"You've fantasized about us?" She gasped.
 
"Thousands of times," he licked her other breast, tonguing and nibbling her nipple.
 
He removed his hand from between her legs to hold her arm and stilled. His hand brushed against her scarred and puckered skin.
He looked at her and she at him.
He bent to kiss the scar all the way down and her eyes teared. Still kissing her scar and licking the insides of her arm he moved his hand back to stroke her all over again.

Her head fell back once again and her breath came in gasps. Oh god, that felt so good. She desperately ground her pelvis against his hand. Her own hands tried to reach his buttons but his head kept getting in the way. She dragged his face up and kissed him hard. "Stay still," she ordered him. "Let me get my hands on you." He laughed and continued to disobey her, driving her insane now sucking hard on her nipple again.
 
"Mr. Khan!" she scolded. "Stop it! Let me undress you right now!"
 
"What's stopping you?" he taunted her.
 
"Unhhh!" She roared, pushed him off her and grabbed his shirt with both hands tugging the two ends apart to make the buttons pop. They wouldn't. She started raining punches on his chest with both hands.
 
"You are so cruel! I will make you pay!"
 
He threw his head back and laughed at her frustration. Grabbing her fist he kissed her knuckle.
 
"OK, OK, tell me what you want."
 
"Rip your shirt apart for me. I don't care if your shirt is ruined and this is how you go home. I want you naked now!"
 
He chuckled, and did as she asked. The buttons went flying.
 
"I keep an extra set of clothes here," he teased.
 
She was on him even before he completed the sentence.
 
"Damn you Mr. Khan, always overprepared!" and she homed in on his nipple, raking it with her teeth and then suckling him. She clawed his chest to punish him. He gasped as it was now his turn to be plundered and pleasured. She kissed him along his collarbone while thumbing his nipples. She moved lower, but saw him arch his back and neck and moved up on her toes to kiss and suck his exposed throat. He molded her body to his to grind into her.
 
She laughed now.

"I have you just where I want you," she gloated. His breath hissed as she roved her hands down and around his waist. She cupped his butt over his pants and he surged into her. She wiggled her hips.
 
"Really, Mr. Khan? You want me?" He grabbed her hair, dragging her lips to his.
 
"Yes! I want you now," he spoke unevenly.
 
She dragged her teeth over his collarbone and he hissed.
 
"Zoya, please," he begged.
 
"Please what, Mr. Khan?"
 
"Please let me love you."
 
"No, not till I've had my wicked way with you."
 
"Then have your way with me, but hurry," he urged,  "you're so damn wicked," he murmured under his breath.
 
She laughed. "Say something?" He shook his head no.
 
"Undo your belt," she commanded.
He complied.
 
She looked at the bulge in his pants and moved her hand to cup and stroke him, and he groaned.
 
She slowly ran her fingers along the waistband and let her hands rest in front over the fly. His body jerked into her hands.
 
"Oh god, Zoya, just touch me!"
 
She undid the snap and lowered the zipper. His hand covered hers. She slapped his hand away.
 
"Behave yourself," she ordered.
 
He writhed against her hand. "Just do it, dammit," he growled.
 
She chuckled.
 
"Testy, testy."
 
"Unnhh," he moaned impatiently.
 
He tried to grab her against him but she resisted. She couldn't wait any longer either. She hadn't realized that in tormenting him she was also punishing herself. She hooked her thumbs and forefingers in the waistband of his tidy whities and tugged. It wasn't easy, what with them getting caught in the bulging obstruction. She was getting impatient too.
 
She bent to help him out of his shoes and socks. And then in one swift pull dragged his pants and briefs to his ankles. He kicked them off. She still hadn't looked up at him as yet. Now she looked up and saw his straining erection still throbbing and waving with surging blood. She reached out a hand to reverently touch him. He jerked. His hand came to clasp hers. 
 
"Zoya," he whispered. "Please, baby!"
 
She didn't want to tease anymore. She wanted to taste him. She let her fingers fan over his shins, calves and knees. She stroked his thighs and snaked out her tongue to lick her way up. He was breathing hard, his head still thrown back and eyes squeezed tight. She touched his balls and felt their cool heft cupping them.
He went rigid with anticipation.
She ran her tongue along his pulsating length and rose higher to get a good grip on him. His hips were swaying, his penis, thick and taut, sought the heat of her mouth. She rubbed her thumb over the newly formed bead on the tip. With her thumb she stroked the eye dry. His pelvis thrust wildly. She placed the center of her palm on it and then gripped his shaft in her hand massaging it up and down and rolling it in her fist.
 
His hands gripped her hair. "Please baby, have pity on me," he pleaded.
 
She took him deep into her mouth and he went crazy. Sucking him in and out of her mouth she mercilessly milked him. He groaned savagely with satisfaction and frustration. Grabbing her hair roughly, he hissed and bucked as she grated her teeth across his length and fisted him to the hilt. She would return her thumb to tease the eye and swipe her palm to dry him while nibbling from the base up or swirling her cruel tongue around the shaft. Then when he couldn't bear the pleasure any more she would re-take him in her mouth and move him from cheek to cheek and then her throat. To feel her hot wet mouth work on him was both heaven and hell. He couldn't take it anymore. "Aah, Zoya, baby, you don't know how good that feels."
 
"Tell me."
 
"I can't, I just don't have the words," and in one swift move, he lifted her off her feet and placed her back on the desk. Aligning their bodies after draping her legs on his shoulders he bent to quickly swirl his tongue over her once again, gripped her hips and pushed himself into her. She cried out in pain.
He stopped guiltily.
 
"I'm so sorry, Zoya. Did I hurt you, baby?"
 
"No, just give it me. Please, I want you so bad."
 
He tried pushing in a little gently but she was too tight. He bent to lick and dilate her to receive him.
 
"Please, please, now, Asad, harder" she begged.
 
He plunged in harder and found entry. She cried out and he tried pulling out but she grabbed his tie to pull him to her, shaking her head no. He leaned his hands on the table and then placed them on her upper thighs to get a better grip. He pulled out and then re-entered deeper. "Ah Asad," she said through gritted teeth.
Aanhh!" she moaned louder.
 
"Am I hurting you," he asked with worry. "No, this is so good," her body moved in rhythm with his as if guided by some primal force.
 
Her moans got louder and her sex talk more erotic. He held her ankles and spread her legs wide apart while still pounding into her. Her skirt was still bunched around her waist. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust and drove him crazier. Her hands were raised over her head gripping the edge of the table.
 
She brought one hand down between their bodies and spread herself, touching him as he pulled in and out of her.
"Zoya," he panted, barely in control, now rolling his hips to create better friction. She rubbed herself and clenched her pelvic muscles to milk him.
 
Her moans mimed his rhythm now, "you want me to tell you what to do?" she gasped, going back to holding the table edge with both hands. As he gripped her thighs hard and slid wetly in and out of her more urgently, she cried out hoarsely, "f*ck me Asad!"
 
They came together.
 

As their breathing normalized, she looked up at him seductively, "next time, it'll be your turn to tell me what you will do to me! We need to train your vocabulary to match all that glorious action."
 
He laughed, still breathless, and hugged her to him.
 
"Yeah, baby, those training wheels are coming off!" She continued to gloat and razz him.
 
"Oh god," he groaned, "you have such a sassy mouth on you." He kissed her hard. "I didn't know that being horny made you even worse."
 
"See, you are already learning." She retorted smugly.
 
"Thank god, you are sparing me the shayari, at least. I don't think I could have survived that in this vulnerable state."
 
She swatted him upside the head.
 
"Ouch!"
 
"Oh really? In all your fantasies I was quiet?"
 
"What fantasies? No more fantasies when I have the real deal." He kissed her forehead. "And my imagination must be seriously limited because, all this," he waved his arm about including their strewn clothing, the heels, her burqa, the ring, "I didn't imagine even in my wildest dreams!"
 
"Mildest dreams, you mean."
 
He roared with laughter. "I'm never getting the last word in, right?"
 
"N--!"
 
He shut her up.
Good.


PART II on page 3

Edited by dixeij - 2015-08-05T12:37:26Z
Posted: 2013-09-26T15:04:54Z
OmgEmbarrassed...it was damn HOTEmbarrassed
Your amazing yarWink
0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T15:08:18Z
This was absolutely brilliant Clap

0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T15:33:26Z
wow tat was hawwwt...zoya in burkha wearing mini skirt n coming to asad s office lol ...it was superb :)...i looved the bold zoya n asad ...asad had fantasies hehehe nice ...n asad teasing Zoe abt shayaries was cho cute...awesome  os ...do write more :)
0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T16:11:04Z
Okay now it's time for a LONG! ICE COLD!!! Shower!!!
0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T20:14:35Z
Embarrassed WOWEmbarrassed
0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T20:52:17Z
That was just WOW!
So hawttt with humor Wink
Loved the bold Zoya Big smile

Now let us know how trained Asad vocab is, write more soon LOL
0 Likes this
Posted: 2013-09-26T21:36:43Z
HOT..Wink
HOTTER..Embarrassed
HOTTEST...WinkEmbarrassed
0 Likes this

Related Topics

Topics Author Replies Views Last Post Reply
GORGEOUS ASYA ASYA ASYA PICTURES <3

Lionessxo   112   60721

Lionessxo 112 60721 2015-11-12T00:56:14Z Aahana.
IamCrazySeven 666 38228 2018-10-04T02:23:56Z IamCrazySeven
Ish_Speaks 106 19743 2017-02-04T04:29:15Z NIKS--KSG1
AsYa OS ""Shayari... with AsYa...""

AkaiBara   240   14618

AkaiBara 240 14618 2016-09-29T04:13:14Z AkaiBara
Dewaanihui 24 5019 2015-11-14T16:37:26Z asifiqbalsh

Topic Info

  • 68 Replies
  • 47946Views

Topic started by dixeij

Last replied by MayurChan

FORUM QUICK JUMP

TOP