Hi Shefaali, I Am So Glad So See You Resume Posting Again. I Was Worried And Missing You While You Were

I appreciate the way you explain your story, it si described in such a good way that everything is happening in front of my eyes. Can I ask which city of this lovely country you belongs?? Let me how can I approach to your stag to have a great evening with you. Tell me plz

Thank you!

Thank you...

You haven't mentioned about the people you saw in bed together when you returned home early.. I'm still curious about it

It's too embarrassing to mention about on the public page. Please message me separately.

Hw many guys u think masturbate reading ur blog

For those in sane minds, probably none. However I have come to realize the masturbation, for men, is a very fond activity that most want to indulge in. So I really can't comment.:)

Question 3: In a broader sense, who do you enjoy most with. Guys younger than you or older than you. Why?

I am not too sure if I am qualified to answer this question or not. I have not been with many men who were/are younger to me. There may have been a someone or the other but that’s too infrequent. I have always had a weakness for matured men. Most of my bulls have been biologically senior to me.

I have always found maturity to be a really strong turn-on. Let me clarify though, that while biological age and mental maturity most often goes together, it is however not always the case.

An important trait that matured adult men generally share is to go slow. To avoid confusions, going slow doesn’t mean ’doing’ things slowly. It means the ability to enjoy the journey  more than just reaching the destination. There have been an instance where I happened to be very intimately connected in some really intense congress with a gentleman who is well past his seventies. Despite his age, he amazed me with his patience and enthusiasm to let me enjoy the feeling of being pleasured by him, the sensation of each of his touches, be it his lips or teeth or hands which eventually would culminate into our mutual attainment of the peak of happiness. He ensured I derive pleasure out of every single thrust he delivered, making each of them a separate and distinct act of loving me, which when integrated formed the overall act of his having sex with me.

The journey, can be very rough, noisy and tumultuous, or very serene and practically noiseless except for the sound of our breath and the almost inaudible sighs of pleasure, depending on the personality of the bull concerned. But the end objective in either mode of presentation remains the same, to make the journey as pleasurable as possible for both, and not just to reach the destination and then collapse on top of each other. I think men who are mentally matured have attained the knowledge of how a touch can be made more lingering, how an act of taking possession over his woman can be made to a much longed after affair by the woman, how to treat a woman like a woman.

It’s these little things which otherwise go unnoticed, that makes sex with a matured man so much more pleasurable for me.

Where you now

At the most perfect moment of my life.

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.

I checked your profile and liked it.. your are good to explain mind with words.. and i wanna know is their any pic of you ?

Thank you for the compliment.

How my stag possessed me - Part 2

Continued from my previous post...

It was probably around the second year of my marriage, and I hadn’t strayed one bit. Actually my husband was more than I could handle and he is very active to pleasure me physically. My husband informed me that the annual dinner in his office was convened. Spouses were allowed. The year before this, we had both been travelling and so we couldn’t attend. We both were eager to be there, to get to meet other people to socialize with and for him, to kind of show me off as well. Although India is currently very widely influenced by the western dressing and in fact all the western dresses are very popular here as well, personally, I was always since attaining my youth have dressed myself in saree, a traditional Indian dress. For those in the west who are reading this, you may please Google for Saree. I have during my college had worn westerns like jeans and skirts and shirts and trousers, but have always felt that I look my best in a saree and could carry myself in it.  So, for this evening-party I dressed myself in a brown saree with deep-red sleeveless blouse and matching lingerie. It was a party, so a slightly plunged neckline and a more-than-normal low-cut on the back on my blouse was not inappropriate. Since I am of medium complexion, umm, maybe slightly on the duskier side, the darker shades look better on me.

It was organized in one of the large banquet halls, overlooking a sprawling green lawn, in a five star hotel. Some guests had already arrived that he got me introduced to. They were really nice people. I won’t deny that it felt good when some of them complimented me on my dress and I could see I was getting my share of male attention. Having said that, it would be wrong to not point out at this stage, that the male attention that I referred to above was the very decent kind where men appreciated me for how I looked but all within the limits of social decency. There were drinks that were served and both I and my husband indulged. A jovial mood prevailed over the party.

It was quite late in the evening by that time when my husband said that he would like me to meet one of his long time colleagues who was till now posted abroad and have very recently returned to India. Rumours were that my husband could be considered next to fill up that position abroad. Both were at the same rank within the organization. His colleague was in the lawn and we were in the hall. So my husband showed me around to meet him. Now, I am positive that all of you have heard the phrase ‘sparks flying’, as did I. But it was the first time when I was escorted to him and I got to look at his eyes and he shook my hand, that I literally felt hit by a thunderbolt. He was nothing extraordinary to look at. Neither handsome, nor bad, couple of inches taller to me (I am 5’8” myself, which is considered tall for Indian women), very well dressed in a black suit, possessed what looked like through the layers of his suit, a really swollen and large belly, dark-skinned, clean shaven. Even his shirt failed to trap tufts of dense black hair on his chest which popped out at the top. As he shook my hand and made small talk while my husband introduced me, I could feel my heart would burst out from the rib cage. I could hear not a word that he said because of the sound of my own heartbeat that deafened me. I felt people around me could also probably hear it from how they sounded to me. I maintained my polite smile while he continued to hold and shake my hand while introducing himself. It went to a point when I finally managed to blurt out, “I am sorry but I really didn’t catch your name in the loud music. Could you please tell me again?” His name, for the purpose of this public document shall be R, which is the first letter of the name. We kept talking and in a while another colleague of my husband came up to inform that the boss wanted to speak to my husband. I was standing there in the lawn with R. There were quite a lot of other people who were also present around us, but in my mind I felt myself to be completely isolated with just R in that lawn.

To be continued...

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.