The stifling April heat came up off the noisy streets in shimmering waves. The air-conditioner in Sheila’s chamber was too old and weary to beat the sun’s relentless onslaught effectively. The small, bright room was warm and close.

A thin trickle of perspiration started at Sheila’s throat and trickled sexily down between her large, heavy breasts. She shivered slightly in pleasure. The heat didn’t bother her much -- in fact, she rather enjoyed the slightly tacky, sexy feeling it gave her skin. Now, as the rivulet of sweat coursed through her deep cleavage, she felt aroused. Slowly, her breasts grew heavier and more turgid, and her nipples hardened. Another stream of sweat started in the small of her back and slid through the hollowed channel of her spine to her buttocks, invoking itself into the cleft between the luscious orbs, caressing her anus. Her arousal grew steadily. A wet warmth began to spread in her crotch. Her breath came shorter, and her lovely lips parted, her nostrils flaring.

The words and letters swam before her eyes, retreated out of focus. Sheila sighed. There was no point in resisting. She had never been able to fight this for any length of time and had long abandoned the pretence. She pushed away the papers before her, tossed down the ballpoint pen, and, taking off her glasses, leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed.

The sensations spread slowly through her body, and she savoured them slowly, with a meditative appreciation. Her cunt was damp, and she felt the first, delicious beads of cunt-juice seep between her thighs. She had forsworn all underwear a long time ago. Slowly, she parted her thighs, then pushed them together, rubbing them gently. Her breasts felt heavier and harder, and she could sense the quivering tension in her nipples. Without quite being conscious of it, she flicked open the top two buttons of her tight white blouse. It was the kind she wore to work, with a short mandarin collar, half-sleeved, and cut tight and short under her breasts, which thrust out proudly over its lower hem.

The heat fanned out through her loins and body. She shuddered slightly and forced herself to open her eyes. The hunger gnawed at her soul, and she needed to put it to rest, albeit temporarily. She needed a man. She needed a fuck. In the office, that was not a problem. Arun, her peon, a lean, handsome youth, had, for the last couple of years, met her sexual demands with a gleeful, exuberant zest.

She swivelled her chair and put her finger to the bell that would summon him. As she turned, her gaze fell to the street below. In the quotidian clamour and bustle of the busy street, she saw a lone man working at a cabling trench on the sidewalk. He was wielding a huge sledgehammer against a piton stuck in the concrete slabs. Sheila froze.

The man was very dark, extremely well-muscled. He wore faded trousers rolled up to just below the knees and a singlet with deeply cut-away sleeves. She watched him move, smoothly and rhythmically, no jerky motions, his powerful muscles rippling and cording sexily as he swung the hammer over his head and brought it down on the piton. His shoulders were wide and strong, slightly curved with the packed strength, and his back swept inward down to his high hips and narrow waist. His chest was broad and deeply cleaved, his belly was hard and flat. His torso appeared to be hairless. She could see that his arms and forearms were thick and bulging with muscle. He was quite good-looking, too, with thick, dark hair, a straight nose, a wide mouth, and a square jaw. He sported a dark moustache, but his cheeks and chin were clean-shaven. She could see his teeth were strong and white when he bared his lips and exhaled with the exertion.

A frisson of excitement stabbed Sheila deep in her belly. She moistened her lips, staring down at the man who worked on, oblivious to her gaze. She watched his body move, his muscles and sinews cording and rippling like snakes under his tightly drawn skin. There was not an ounce of fat on his body. She imagined what his hands, hard and calloused, would feel like on her breasts and nipples. His tongue would be thick and heavy as it explored her mouth and cunt. And his cock -- his cock had to be big, thick, and heavy. It would take a long time to arouse and would last erect for a long time while he invaded her mouth, fucked her tits, plundered her cunt, and, perhaps even, pillaged her ass.

Sheila’s body trembled with lust. She jabbed the bell button frantically. Arun rushed into her chamber. He saw her face and understood as he followed her eyes, saw the man working on the street below.

“Him,” Sheila said in a tight voice. “I want him. Get him for me.”

Arun hid the quick jolt of excitement that leaped through his loins. He would have liked to fuck her -- Sheila was a talented and eager broad, but this was good too. He had done it before -- his duties as her peon were very loosely defined. She always allowed him to watch her fuck the men he procured for her, and when her visitor had finished, to take his own pleasure with her. Perhaps she might even let them both fuck her together. That had happened before, too.

Over the last couple of years, Sheila had brought this kind of casual sex down to a fine art. There was a doctor who had rooms down the corridor from her office, a general practitioner struggling to make his mark. Sheila found him attractive, and one steamy Saturday afternoon, when he was alone, no patients waiting to see him, she had called on him and got herself very thoroughly checked on his examining table. He proved to be a virile, enthusiastic, and talented lover, surprisingly knowledgeable for one so young. He fucked her heavily and methodically and finally came in her mouth and over her breasts. Later, he explained that he was deeply interested in sexology and had researched extensively, acquiring wide first-hand field experience. Sheila loved the hyperbole and made him demonstrate his expertise again. He responded by sodomising her thoroughly. Sheila was overjoyed.

The young doctor readily agreed to examine on a priority basis any new lovers she might take in return for their continued liaison. It was an eminently satisfactory arrangement, and it paid dividends at just such times. Sheila knew that Arun would bribe the labourer, tell him what to do, have him wash his cock and ass, bathe if necessary in the common toilet downstairs, and then have him examined by the doctor for any signs of contagion. It would take thirty minutes or so before the labourer came to her.

She was impatient, trying to fight the growing lust flowering through her body. She closed her eyes and sank into an erotic reverie, fantasising about sex with her newest lover. Her arousal mounted, and getting up, she undid her sari, a simple black-on-white printed garment. Dropping her petticoat and tossing it aside, she draped the sari again, winding it loosely around her waist and tucking the pleats in below her belly, so that with a single tug the entire six yards of cloth would come undone. She wore it low, beneath her navel and riding high on her hips. Her firm, slightly rounded belly curved sexily outward.

She finished dressing just in time. The man came in sooner than she had expected. The door swung open without warning, and he stepped through, with Arun following behind. The peon locked the door unobtrusively and slipped into a corner. This was her moment, and her lover’s. His came later.

Up close, the man was even sexier than her earlier glimpse had indicated. He was very muscular, and Sheila could see the sinews in his thick biceps and broad forearms. His chest was wide and deeply cleaved, the twin pectorals hanging like broad slabs of dark rock. His nipples were small and dark, pulled wide and low under the armpits, which were shorn clean. His torso was sexily hairless.

The man looked at her steadily with his deep, dark eyes. A small smile flickered on his lips. He swept his eyes over her with a casual arrogance. He liked what he saw. In her late thirties, Sheila was in the full bloom of quintessence. She was fair-skinned and pretty. Her eyes were soft and brown. A red bindi dotted her forehead. Her dark, crinkly hair was slightly flecked with grey, coiled in a neat bun behind her head. Her face was sweetly rounded, the nose a trifle chubby but anything slimmer would have made her look far too angular. Her chin was soft, yet firm. Her lips were sexy, the upper slimmer, bowed and curled over the fuller, straighter lower lip. Her teeth were very white and even. Her body was rich and full, yet firm, with no indication of flab. Her breasts were large and heavy, big succulent mounds that strained at the tight white blouse. Her belly curved outward somewhat, but wasn’t paunchy. Her hips flared to delectable buttocks, generous and full. Her hands! were small and squarish, the fingernails clipped short. Her skin was creamy and smooth and lovely. She wore small pearl ear drops and a gold bangle on one wrist. The man thought he saw the glint of a mangalsutra disappearing into her cleavage but he couldn’t tell.

Slowly, he slid his eyes away from her and looked around the chamber. It was a small, compact office on the first floor of the building. At the other end, a large window with Venetian blinds looked out over the street. Under it was her desk, so that sitting at it, she would have her back to the window. One side of the desk was pressed to the wall, which was ranged with shelves of reference books. A telephone and a computer monitor nestled in a corner of the desk. The surface of the table was green baize, topped with a protective chamfered plate of thick glass. Comfortable swivel chairs for clients were on the other side of the desk. The wall opposite the desk and behind him had shelves and file storage from floor to ceiling. Against the third wall, some distance from the desk and separated by a colourful throw rug, was a small banquette with cushions. A potted plant nestled in a corner, in a large brass jar.

The man brought his eyes back to Sheila. She held his gaze. Moving slowly, without a word, the man crossed his hands and pulled his singlet vest off his head, tossing it aside. Sheila licked her lips. His body was magnificent. The man grinned slowly and flicked open the clasp of his trousers.

“Take off your sari,” he said, his voice soft and even, his eyes never leaving her face. “Leave your blouse.”

The lust powered through Sheila’s body. She tugged at the pleats of her sari. It rustled to her feet. She was naked under it. The man’s eyes ran over her again, lingering on her crotch. Her cunt-hair was neatly trimmed and sparse, a dark, inviting tuft above her cunt-lips which had been shorn clean and were visibly wet. He nodded his approval.

“Suck my cock,” he commanded. “Gimme head.”

Sheila’s breath was short with excitement. She stepped forward and slipped to her knees before the labourer. He waited, feet apart, head bent, watching her. She reached up and with trembling fingers slowly peeled down the fly of his trousers. They were baggy and loose and crumpled to his bare feet. Sheila moaned softly. His cock was huge, bigger than she had dared hope. Still limp, it was at least eight inches long and over an inch thick, larger than most men’s cocks were in full tumescence. His balls were heavy and low. She noticed with a rush of pleasure that his entire cock-shaft and scrotum were closely shaved.

She slid her hands up his strong, muscular thighs, surprisingly thinly haired, to his crotch. Her fingers encircled the thickness of his penis. The man grunted. She groaned and pushed her face into his crotch, nuzzling the springy darkness of his pubic hair. With a deft flick, she pulled back his foreskin. His cock-head was bulbous and thick, bright and moist. Sheila whimpered and, her eyes half-closed, her lips apart, caressed her face wantonly with his beautiful penis, jerking it deftly in her fingers. The man waited. His loins flickered with arousal. His penis quivered and began to grow slowly.

“C’mon! Suck it!” he snapped. “Suck my cock, bitch!”

Sheila moaned at the rough, sexy words. Her lips parted further and her tongue slipped out and swirled over his cock-head. The man grunted, his belly rippling with pleasure. She swept her tongue over his cock-head again, and yet again and then, opening her mouth wide, took his penis deep in her mouth and began to suck it, jerking it constantly in her fist. The man grunted loudly, his head arching back. His hand fell to her head and he began moving it to and fro to suit his pleasure as he pumped his hips back and forth, fucking her face. His cock grew and grew, distending her face. Her cheeks billowed with its size.

“Yeh ... mm ... oh fuck yes ... yeh ... that’s good, slut ... suck it ... keep sucking, whore ... ahhh yeh ... fuck yes ... do it, whore ... oh fuck yes!” he muttered, fucking her mouth unhurriedly.

Sheila’s head rocked back and forth before her lover’s crotch. The musky taste and odour of his cock made her head swim. Her hunger mounted and she sucked harder and faster, moaning and whimpering deep in her cock-filled throat. Her mouth was wonderfully warm and moist and there was an electric cunning in her tongue that took his breath away. The man kept up his obscene litany, arousing her further, the words even more erotic in the vernacular.

“Suck it ... hanh ... uhhh hanh ... uhhh suck ... suck harder, whore ... suck, slut, suck! C’mon! Suck my cock ... yeh! ... that’s it ... suck it, whore ... suck my cock! Suck harder, bitch!” he grunted.

The lustfire raged in her body. She moaned, lasciviously dragging her tongue over his cock-shaft and balls, lapping and sucking the heavy orbs by turn. The man grunted in pleasure at the feel of her soft face and hair between his thighs. She dragged her tongue up through his groin to his belly, sweeping her tongue through his recessed navel, caressing her face and neck with his cock. Taking the thick, throbbing mass -- now fully nine inches long and correspondingly thick -- in her hand, she pushed it down the open neck of her blouse into her cleavage. The man groaned at the softness of her warm breast-sheath. She squeezed her breasts over it, groaning and whimpering her pleasure. He felt her hard nipples rake his shaft and, looking down saw that she was wearing a mangalsutra. She was married! The knowledge aroused him even further. A grin of delight split his face. He loved fucking memsahib whores, and the married ones were the best, hungry and insatiable. He pushed her head down again.

Sheila opened out her blouse as she took the labourer’s enormous cock in her mouth again. Her head swam with excitement at the realisation that he was going to take a lot to satisfy. He was a better find than she had expected. She moaned thickly, sucking his cock hungrily, fondling her breasts, rubbing the rough beads of her long mangalsutra over her aching, rigid nipples, squeezing and fondling her turgid breasts. The man kept fucking her face, rocking her head back and forth, pumping his hips to and fro, reaching down now and then to fondle her breasts.

“Mm ... yeh ... keep sucking, bitch ... just you keep sucking ... ahhh uhhh yeh ... oh fuck yes ... that’s good ... mm ... yeh ... that’s it, whore ... suck it ... c’mon, bitch, suck harder! Suck harder, whore! Harder! Yeh uhhh c’mon slut ... do it! Suck my prick, bitch! Keep sucking!”

It took several minutes longer before he pushed her head away at last and motioned her to the settee at the other end of the room. They tossed the pillows to the floor and Sheila went down on the sofa on her back, spreading her legs wide, lifting and bending her knees, offering herself to the man.

“Fuck me,” she said, her voice husky and sibilant. “Fuck me hard!”

The man grinned, flashing his strong teeth. He moved over her and, bending his head, kissed her hard. This surprised her. Most guys like him didn’t bother. She arched steeply under him, responding at once, caressing his dark hair, sucking on his tongue as it invaded her mouth, jerking his cock with her hand. The man broke the kiss and moved his lips to her breasts. Sheila moaned, shuddering in pleasure as his thick, rough tongue swirled over her quivering breast-tip, whipping it rapidly. Then his lips clamped on her breast and he sucked hard, let go, sucked again, nibbled her nipple, dragged it across his teeth and the roof of his mouth. Hot lust leaped from her breast and she gasped, arching under him, her hips writhing erotically.

“OHHHHHH uhhh yes ohmauhhhhhyes uhhh OH uhhh yes!” she moaned.

The man moved to the other breast. He thought her mangalsutra looked very sexy on her creamy, fair skin. He plucked the long chain in his lips and sucked her nipples and breasts through it, rasping the metal over her tender flesh. Sheila whimpered, twisting and writhing under him, her face flipping from side to side, creased in a radiance of excitement. The man’s fingers dipped down over her belly to her crotch. She groaned, arching her hips and he slid a thick, long finger into her cunt and began masturbating her slowly, knuckling her gorged clitoris. Sheila cried out, her hips bucking and lurching under his arm, her head flipping from side to side, her face a mask of lust. Her cunt streamed with juice and her breasts felt hot and swollen, the nipples aching stiff.

“Oh uhhh yes ... oh god yes uhh yes uhhh yes ... ohhh uhhh yes!” she cried.

The man chuckled dryly and, releasing her breasts from the torment of his mouth, moved down and thrust his face into her crotch.