Indian Romantic Sex Stories: The Monsoon Terrace in Pune

The terrace smelled of wet earth and hot chai before Maya had even finished opening the door, and she stepped out into the rain-washed evening still holding the steel glass in one hand, her hair damp from the drizzle and her kurti clinging softly to her back. Some of the best indian romantic sex stories she had secretly read always began exactly like this, with rain on a terrace and a lover returning after too long, and tonight her own life was about to copy the fantasy. Rohan was already there, leaning against the railing with a small bag at his feet, his shirt dark with rain and his smile exactly the way she remembered it from three months ago. He had flown in that afternoon from Delhi, and he had not even gone home first.

Maya was twenty-nine, an architect in Pune, and Rohan was thirty-one, a photographer who had been on assignment in Delhi for the whole monsoon season. They had talked every night on video calls, but a screen had never carried the warmth of his hands or the low sound of his laugh, and Maya had felt the distance in her body for weeks. Rohan crossed the terrace in three long steps and pulled her into his arms, and the steel glass nearly slipped from her fingers before she set it down on the railing. His lips found hers, and the kiss was slow at first, tasting of rain and chai and three months of missing each other, and then it deepened until Maya forgot the wet railing and the neighbours and everything else.

Rohan lifted her chin and looked at her properly, the way he always did, as if he were framing a photograph, and Maya laughed against his mouth and told him to stop looking and start kissing. He obeyed, and his hands slid down to her waist and pulled her closer until she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her through his jeans. Maya gasped softly and pressed back, and Rohan whispered that he had thought about this terrace, about her, every single night in Delhi. Maya whispered back that she had thought about him too, in this very flat, in that very bed, and that the waiting was finally over.

Inside, the flat was warm and dim, and Rohan pushed the door shut with his foot without breaking the kiss. Maya helped him out of his wet shirt, and his chest was broad and warm under her hands, with rain still beading on his shoulders. Rohan untied the drawstring of her salwar and slid his hands inside, and Maya arched against him as his fingers found the soft skin of her hips. He lifted her kurti over her head in one smooth motion, and her breasts came free, full and round, and Rohan looked at them the way a thirsty man looks at water. He took one breast in his hand and the other in his mouth, and Maya cried out and tangled her fingers in his wet hair.

Maya unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock, and it was thick and hard and already leaking at the tip, and she wrapped her fingers around it and stroked him slowly. Rohan groaned and buried his face in her neck, and Maya guided him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. She pushed him down onto the mattress and climbed over him, and his hands went straight to her breasts, kneading them gently while she kissed her way down his chest. When she reached his cock she took it into her mouth, and Rohan arched off the bed with a deep groan, his hands gripping the sheets.

Maya sucked him slowly at first, swirling her tongue around the head, and then faster, taking him deeper until he filled her mouth completely. Rohan watched her with dark eyes, and his breathing grew ragged, and Maya loved the way he lost control under her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard, and Rohan pulled her up before he could finish, telling her that he wanted to come inside her, not like this. Maya smiled and straddled him, and she guided his cock to her wet pussy and sank down onto it in one slow movement, and both of them gasped at the fullness.

Rohan filled her completely, and Maya began to ride him, rolling her hips in slow circles while his hands held her waist. Her pussy gripped his cock tightly with every movement, and the wet sounds of their bodies filled the room along with the sound of rain outside. Rohan sat up and took her breast into his mouth, and Maya threw her head back and rode him harder, her hair falling loose around her face. When her climax came it rolled through her in waves, and her pussy clenched around his cock again and again, and Rohan held her tightly and groaned as he felt her come.

Maya collapsed against his chest, and Rohan rolled her over onto her back without pulling out, and he began to thrust into her with long, deep strokes. He kissed her neck and her breasts as he moved, and Maya wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper with every thrust. Her nails dug into his back, and Rohan thrust harder, and the bed shook beneath them, and Maya cried out his name again and again. Her second climax built quickly, and when it hit she arched off the bed and screamed, and her pussy flooded around his cock, soaking the sheets beneath them.

Rohan pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, and he entered her from behind, gripping her hips firmly as he thrust into her wet pussy. Maya buried her face in the pillow and pushed her hips back to meet him, and Rohan spanked her lightly and then thrust deeper, and Maya moaned loudly into the pillow. He reached around and rubbed her clit with his fingers while he fucked her from behind, and Maya came again, shaking and crying out, her whole body trembling under him. Rohan groaned and thrust faster, and then he pulled out and came across her back in hot spurts, and Maya turned around and kissed him hard.

They lay tangled together in the wet sheets, and Rohan held her close, and Maya rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slowing down. She told him that the last three months had felt like three years, and Rohan told her that Delhi had been nothing but hotel rooms and empty evenings without her. Maya kissed his chest and told him that tonight was only the beginning, because he was home now, and home meant her bed, her terrace, and all the rain-washed evenings they still had left. Rohan laughed and kissed the top of her head, and Maya closed her eyes with a smile.

Later, Maya made chai in the small kitchen, wearing only Rohan's shirt, and Rohan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the back of her neck, and his hands slid under the shirt to her breasts, and Maya leaned back against him with a soft sigh. She turned around and kissed him, and Rohan lifted her onto the kitchen counter, and her legs wrapped around him as he kissed her throat. Maya whispered that the kitchen had never been used like this before, and Rohan whispered back that every room in this flat was about to be christened properly.

Rohan spread her legs on the counter and entered her again, slowly this time, and Maya held onto his shoulders as he moved inside her with deep, lazy thrusts. The chai steamed forgotten on the stove, and Maya's moans filled the kitchen, and Rohan kissed her breasts through the thin shirt. When Maya came again she buried her face in his neck and bit him softly, and Rohan groaned and came inside her with a long shudder, holding her tightly against him. They stayed like that for a long time, forehead to forehead, breathing together, until the chai had gone cold.

Before the night ended, Maya pulled Rohan into the bathroom and turned on the shower, and the warm water ran over both of them as they stood under it together. Rohan soaped her shoulders and her back, and Maya soaped his chest and his arms, and the steam filled the small room until the mirror fogged completely. Maya knelt under the water and took his cock into her mouth again, and Rohan leaned back against the tiles with a groan, his hands in her wet hair. She sucked him slowly and thoroughly, and when he pulled her up, he turned her around and entered her from behind under the running water, and Maya braced her hands against the tiles as he thrust into her. The water ran down their bodies and pooled at their feet, and Maya came with a cry that echoed off the tiles, and Rohan came inside her a moment later, holding her hips tightly.

That night they went back out to the terrace, and the rain had stopped, and the city below glittered with wet lights. Maya stood at the railing in Rohan's arms, and he kissed her shoulder and told her that he had missed this view, this city, and most of all her. Maya turned in his arms and kissed him, and she told him that next time he went away for work, she was coming with him, because three months apart was three months too many. Rohan agreed, and he kissed her again, slowly, under the clearing Pune sky, and Maya knew that this was the most romantic night of her life. She whispered, stay, and he whispered back, always.