Desi College Girl Sex Story: Aisha's After-Hours Project

The project room smelled of old paper, phenyl, and the jasmine oil in Aisha's hair, and the moment she pushed the door shut behind us and turned the latch, I knew this desi college girl sex story was not going to be about any presentation. It was 6:40 in the evening, the corridor outside was empty, and her yellow kurti clung to her in the damp Mumbai heat.

We are supposed to finish the slides tonight, she said, dropping her bag on the big table, but her eyes were doing something else entirely, sliding over my face and down to my chest, and her lower lip was caught between her teeth in a way that made my throat go dry.

Aisha was twenty, a first year fresher, and I was Rohan, twenty one, her assigned senior buddy for the inter-college fest, and for three weeks she had been finding excuses to be near me, asking doubts she clearly did not have, laughing too long at jokes that were not that funny.

She opened her laptop and bent over the table, and her kurti rode up just enough to show the curve of her hip above her leggings, and I forgot every word of the marketing plan we were supposed to be polishing.

Rohan, she said without looking up, do you think I am pretty, and before I could answer she turned around and she was suddenly very close, close enough that the jasmine smell wrapped around me like a hand.

You know you are, I said, and my voice came out rough, she stepped closer until her breasts pressed against my chest, and then her mouth was on mine, hot and certain, tasting of the mint she had been chewing.

She kissed like she had been rehearsing it, her tongue bold against mine, her hands already under my t-shirt, nails scratching lightly down my back, and I lifted her onto the edge of the big project table, scattering printouts across the floor.

Her kurti came off over her head in one pull, and under it she wore a lacy black bra that left very little to the imagination, her breasts full and high, rising and falling fast with her breathing, and I buried my face between them.

She moaned and arched into me, her fingers tangled in my hair, and I unhooked her bra and took one nipple into my mouth, rolling it with my tongue while my hand kneaded the other, and her whole body shivered.

Aisha, someone could come, I whispered, and she laughed, a low wicked sound, and said the peon does his round at seven thirty, we have forty minutes, and then she pushed me back and sank to her knees in front of me.

She unzipped my jeans with quick practiced fingers and freed my cock, already hard and aching, and she looked up at me with those big eyes and licked her lips before taking me into her mouth.

Her mouth was hot and wet and eager, she took me deep, her throat working around me, one hand stroking what she could not fit, and I had to bite my own knuckle to keep from groaning loud enough to echo down the corridor.

She pulled off with a wet sound and stood up, stepping out of her leggings and panties in one smooth motion, and she was bare in front of me, her pussy already glistening, a neat triangle of hair above it, her thighs trembling slightly.

She lay back on the table among the scattered papers and spread her legs wide, come here, senior, she whispered, teach me something that is not in the syllabus, and I moved between her thighs like a man possessed.

I ran my tongue up the inside of her thigh and she gasped, and when I finally licked her clit she cried out and clapped a hand over her own mouth, her hips bucking up off the table, grinding against my face.

She tasted sweet and sharp, I lapped at her folds, flicked her clit, pushed two fingers inside her while my tongue worked, and she was so wet my fingers slid in easily, her inner walls clenching around them.

I am going to, she panted, oh god Rohan, I am going to, and then she came with a muffled scream into her own palm, her pussy pulsing around my fingers, her whole body shaking on the cold table.

Before she had even stopped trembling she pulled me up and kissed me hard, tasting herself on my lips, and she guided my cock to her entrance, rubbing the head through her wetness, teasing us both.

Slowly, she breathed, and I pushed in, inch by inch, her pussy tight and hot and slick, stretching around me, and she whimpered into my neck, her nails digging into my shoulders, until I was buried to the hilt.

Then she started moving, rolling her hips, and I matched her, slow deep strokes at first, the table creaking under us, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her mouth open in silent cries.

Faster, she begged, harder, and I drove into her, the slap of our bodies filling the small room, papers sliding off the table with every thrust, her legs wrapped tight around my waist pulling me deeper.

I flipped her over onto her hands and knees on the table, her ass high and perfect, and I entered her from behind in one smooth stroke, gripping her hips, and she moaned long and low, pushing back against me.

I reached around and rubbed her clit while I pounded into her, and she was chanting my name under her breath, yes Rohan, yes, just like that, do not stop, and her pussy was fluttering around my cock, milking me.

She came again with a shudder that ran through her whole body, her arms giving way so her cheek pressed to the table, and the sight of her like that pushed me over the edge, and I pulled out and came across the small of her back in thick white ropes.

We lay there catching our breath, but Aisha was not done, she rolled over and straddled my lap right there on the edge of the table, grinding her wet pussy against my half hard cock, and within a minute I was fully hard again inside the heat of her.

Round two, senior, she whispered, and she sank down onto me slowly, taking every inch, her eyes locked on mine, and she began to ride me with a slow deliberate roll of her hips that made my toes curl.

Her breasts bounced in front of my face and I caught one nipple between my lips, sucking hard, and she threw her head back and moaned, louder this time, not caring who might hear, her hands gripping my shoulders for balance.

She rode me faster, her pussy tight and slick around my cock, and I held her hips and thrust up into her from below, matching her rhythm, the table groaning under our combined weight.

I stood up suddenly, lifting her with me, her legs wrapped around my waist, my cock still buried deep inside her, and I pressed her back against the cool wall beside the whiteboard, pinning her there.

She gasped at the cold wall against her bare back and then moaned as I started thrusting hard, driving up into her, her body bouncing against the wall, her breasts pressed to my chest, our sweat mingling.

The whiteboard rattled with every thrust, and she was biting my shoulder to muffle her cries, her pussy clenching around me in waves, and I could feel her building toward another climax, her thighs trembling around my waist.

Come with me, I growled in her ear, and she nodded frantically, and we came together, her pussy pulsing hard around my cock as I emptied myself deep inside her, both of us shaking, clinging to each other against the wall.

I carried her back to the table and set her down gently, and we collapsed onto the table together, laughing breathlessly, sticky and sweating, and she turned her head to kiss me, soft and sweet now, completely different from the hungry kisses of ten minutes ago.

You are full of surprises, fresher, I said, and she grinned and wiped herself clean with a tissue from her bag, I told you I learn fast, senior, and then she winked and added, especially the practical subjects.

We dressed in a hurry, her kurti back on, my shirt tucked in, and she reopened her laptop with the most innocent face in the world, and the slides were still open exactly where we had left them.

She typed something, saved the file, and turned the screen toward me, the file was now named presentation_final_AISHA_WAS_HERE.pptx, and she was biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

We slipped out of the project room at seven twenty five, five minutes before the peon's round, walking apart like two students who had merely been working late, but her fingers brushed mine once in the empty corridor.

Same time tomorrow, she whispered without turning her head, we still have fifteen slides to finish, and I watched her walk away down the stairs, her hips swaying, already counting the hours.