Hot Sex Story: Tara and Vikram's Mumbai Argument

You ruined my shoot, Vikram, Tara shouted as soon as he walked into her Mumbai apartment. She was still holding the printed contact sheet like evidence in a courtroom. This was not supposed to be a hot sex story, it was supposed to be a fight about a photoshoot that went wrong.

Vikram was standing too close and smiling too easily for a man who had just cost her a client. You told the model to relax, Tara said, and she relaxed so much she walked out in the middle of my best light. Vikram laughed and kicked his shoes off by the door.

That only made Tara angrier because he treated her living room like his own studio. I saved your shoot, he said, because your best light was making everyone look stiff and posed. Tara threw a cushion at his chest and he caught it with one hand, still grinning.

That grin had annoyed her for three years and attracted her for exactly as long. Do not stand there and rewrite my work, she said, while he stepped closer to look at the contact sheet. Vikram reached out and straightened a curl across her forehead.

Tara slapped his hand away, then immediately regretted it because his touch had slowed her breathing. Stop touching me like you own the frame, she said. He answered, I never said I owned it, I said it needed you in it.

That line stopped her for a second too long, and Vikram saw it, and Tara saw him see it. You always do this, she whispered, you turn a professional fight into something personal. Vikram did not step back.

You started it when you called me at midnight to fix your lighting, he said, and you kept me on the phone for an hour just to hear me argue. Tara felt her face heat up because it was true. She had liked every minute of that call.

Fine, she said, then prove you were right. Before he could answer with another clever line, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. The kiss ended the argument in the most direct way possible.

Vikram made a surprised sound against her mouth and then kissed her back hard. His hands found her waist and pulled her against him until the contact sheet crumpled and fell to the floor. Tara bit his lower lip lightly and whispered, No more talking about the shoot.

She pushed him back toward the couch and he went willingly, laughing against her neck as she climbed onto his lap. Tara, he said, are you sure, and she answered by pressing her hips down against the hard shape under his jeans. I started this, she said, so I am finishing it.

She kissed his throat while her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt. Vikram slid his hands under her loose top and over her bare back. Tara arched when his thumbs traced the clasp of her bra.

Tara pulled her top over her head and tossed it onto the coffee table. Vikram stared at her like he was framing a photograph he did not want to forget. You are beautiful when you are furious, he said.

Tara laughed and unhooked her bra herself and let it fall. His mouth closed over one nipple while his hand cupped the other. Tara gasped and tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

She rocked against him slowly, feeling his cock press hard against her through the denim. The friction made her wet and impatient. Stand up, she ordered, and Vikram obeyed, lifting her easily as he stood.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed his neck while he carried her to the rug. He laid her down gently and knelt between her thighs. Tara watched him unbutton her jeans with deliberate slowness that made her squirm.

She lifted her hips so he could slide the jeans and her panties down together. When his fingers brushed her bare pussy she moaned loudly and spread her legs wider. Vikram kissed the inside of her thigh, then licked slowly toward her clit.

Tara cried out and grabbed the rug with both hands. He sucked and licked in a steady rhythm, using his tongue in circles and then in long strokes. Tara bucked her hips up to meet his mouth.

When he slid two fingers inside her while his tongue kept working, she gasped his name. Her body tightened around him as pleasure built fast and sharp. Vikram, she panted, do not stop, and he did not stop until she came hard against his mouth.

Before she had fully caught her breath, Tara pulled Vikram up by his shirt and pushed him back onto the couch. She unzipped his jeans and freed his cock, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked slowly while he groaned.

Tara leaned down and took him into her mouth, sucking deep and slow at first, then faster. She used her tongue along the underside while her hand worked what her mouth could not reach. Vikram cursed softly and gripped the couch.

Tara smiled around him because she loved making the confident photographer lose control. Enough, Vikram groaned, pulling her up by the arms. Tara straddled him again, this time with nothing between them.

She positioned his cock at her entrance and sank down slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully inside her. They both moaned at the stretch and fullness. Tara set the rhythm, rising and falling on him while Vikram held her hips.

The couch creaked under them, and Tara laughed breathlessly between kisses. This is still my apartment, she said, so I set the pace. Vikram thrust up to meet her, groaning her name.

Vikram flipped them suddenly so Tara was on her back on the couch. He drove into her deep and hard, holding her legs over his shoulders. Tara dug her nails into his back and cried out with each thrust.

He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her moans, and Tara wrapped her legs tighter around him. She urged him faster as his cock hit deep inside her again and again. When her second climax hit, she screamed his name and clenched hard around him.

Vikram followed seconds later, groaning as he came deep inside her. He collapsed against her chest, breathing hard. They lay tangled on the couch, with Tara tracing lazy circles on his shoulder.

So, Vikram said finally, are we still fighting about the shoot. Tara snorted and said, We are fighting about who gets to apologize first. He kissed her forehead and said, I will apologize if you admit my backdrop was better.

Never, Tara said, pinching his side, and they both laughed until their stomachs hurt. Tara stood up, gloriously naked and unbothered, and walked toward the bedroom. She looked back over her shoulder and asked, Coming.

Vikram was already on his feet and following her, still naked and still grinning. In the bedroom, the evening light fell across the bed. Tara pushed him down onto the mattress and climbed over him again.

This time she kissed him slowly, taking her time. She ran her hands over his chest and stomach and down to his cock, which hardened again under her touch. Vikram rolled her gently onto her back and kissed his way down her body.

He lingered on her breasts, her belly, and the curve of her hip. He spread her legs and entered her again, slow and deep. Tara moaned and arched her back, pulling him closer with her legs around his waist.

They moved together in a slower rhythm now, kissing between thrusts. Tara whispered, Your framing is still terrible, and Vikram thrust deeper and answered, Your lighting still needs me. Tara came again with a sharp cry.

Vikram held her through it, then turned her onto her stomach and entered her from behind, gripping her hips. On her knees with her face pressed into the pillow, Tara pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. He leaned over her back and kissed her shoulder while he fucked her steadily.

When he pulled out and turned her around, Tara took him in her mouth again briefly. He lifted her legs and entered her once more, driving deep and wet. They came together this time, Tara crying out and Vikram groaning her name.

Tara showed him the ruined contact sheet again and Vikram pointed out three frames that were actually brilliant. Tara admitted, grudgingly, that one of them was good. They fell asleep with her head on his chest and his arm around her waist.

The next morning, Mumbai woke up loud outside her windows, with horns and hawkers and the smell of rain on hot concrete. Tara woke up to Vikram kissing her shoulder. She stretched and smiled without opening her eyes.

Good morning, boss, Vikram whispered, and Tara answered, Good morning, troublemaker. He pulled her close and she felt him already hard against her hip. Tara laughed and said, Again, and Vikram said, Only if you admit I was right about the backdrop.

Tara rolled him onto his back and straddled him, sinking down onto his cock in one smooth motion. They both gasped at the sudden fullness. Morning sex was slower and softer, with Tara leaning forward to kiss him deeply while she rocked on top of him.

Vikram held her breasts gently and thumbed her nipples while she moved. Tara moaned softly and increased her pace as the pleasure built. She came quietly this time, shuddering and burying her face in his neck.

Vikram held her hips and thrust up until he came too, whispering her name against her ear. They stayed joined for a while, listening to the city. Tara finally whispered, Fine, the backdrop was not terrible.

Vikram carried her to the balcony wrapped in a single sheet. Tara protested and laughed at once because the neighbours could see the building across the lane. No one is looking at seven in the morning, he said, and Tara said, Everyone in Mumbai is looking.

She kissed him anyway. On the balcony, with the sheet slipping and the morning air cool on her bare skin, Vikram pressed her back against the railing. He kissed her throat while Tara wrapped one leg around his waist.

Tara guided him inside her again, gasping at the boldness of it and the thrill of being half hidden and fully exposed. He fucked her slowly against the railing, one hand on her hip and the other covering her mouth playfully when she moaned too loudly. Tara bit his finger lightly and laughed.

She moaned again as he thrust deeper, her breasts pressed against his chest under the slipping sheet. The city moved below them and Tara felt gloriously reckless. She whispered, Faster, before anyone wakes up properly.

Vikram obeyed, driving into her with quick deep strokes until Tara came again, biting her own lip to stay quiet. He came right after, holding her tightly so the sheet did not fall. Back inside, wrapped in the sheet together and laughing, Tara made coffee.

Vikram stood behind her with his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him and said, So the client email, are we shooting again or shooting it together. Vikram said, We are shooting it together, and this time I ask before I touch your backdrop.

Tara turned in his arms and kissed him. She said, And I ask before I throw cushions, and Vikram grinned and said, No, keep throwing cushions, it clearly works for us. Tara laughed and handed him a mug, and their fingers brushed, and the argument was officially over.