Sir Is Not At Home Madam Is Full Of Heart I Fucked – 3 – Bdpriyamodel
Title: “Sir Is Not At Home, Madam Is Full Of Heart…and Desire!”
In the sweltering heat of a tropical afternoon, she lingers by the open window, the lacy curtain dancing gently with the balmy breeze. Meera, a mature and curvaceous woman in her early forties, is a wealthy housewife, her every need catered to by a devoted staff that ensure her days are filled with luxury and comfort. But lately, something has been missing. A hunger, an itch that cannot be scratched by the opulent distractions that litter her life.
As she languidly fans herself with a frilly handkerchief, Meera’s eyes drift to the garden below, where a lush expanse of verdant foliage provides a lush privacy screen for the sprawling estate. A smile plays at the corner of her full, matte-red lips as an idea takes root. She saunters to the wing of her opulent bedroom, rummaging through her beguiling wardrobe until she finds what she seeks – a cropped silk kimono in shimmering emerald that hugs her voluptuous curves, and a sheer lace negligee that leaves little to the imagination.
Meera slowly descends the sweeping staircase, her heeled sandals clicking softly against the polished marble. She pauses to admire the stunning view through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the midday sun casting a warm, inviting glow across the garden. With a sultry smile, she slips out the doors, the soft nip of the breeze sending delicious shivers down her spine.
She glides through the garden, her kimono swaying and slowly unfurling as she goes, exposing glimpses of her toned legs, her ample bosom, and the tantalizing curve of her waist. She pauses to admire a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers, inhaling their heady, intoxicating scent. Her fingers trail along the silken petals, the sensual sensation sparking a fire deep within her core.
As Meera makes her way deeper into the lush foliage, she hears a rustling in the bushes nearby. Her pulse quickens, a shiver of both excitement and trepidation coursing through her. She parts the leaves, revealing a kneeling gardener, pruning shears in his hands and a bead of sweat trickling down his brow. He looks up, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in the exquisite sight before him.
“Sir is not at home,” Meera purrs, her voice low and sultry. “But Madam is full of heart…and desire.”
The gardener rises slowly, his dark, intense gaze locked with hers. “Madam,” he manages, his voice rough with lust. “I…I am but a humble servant, unworthy of your attentions.”
Meera smiles, stepping closer, the heat of his body palpable even from a distance. “Humble,” she whispers, trailing a finger down the chiseled line of his jaw. “But not unworthy, my darling.”
With a fluid grace, Meera sinks to her knees before him, her hands working deftly at the laces of his rough gardening trousers. His manhood springs free, thick and pulsing with need. She wraps her lips around the swollen head, sucking gently before taking him deep into her throat. The gardener gasps, fisting his hands in her dark curls as she works him with her mouth.
He pulls her up, crashing his lips against hers in a fiery kiss. His hands roam her body, caressing her bare skin, kneading her ample breasts. Meera gasps into his mouth, her own hands frantically unfastening his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against her own. She pushes him back onto the soft grass, straddling his hips as she slowly, torturously, lowers herself onto his thick shaft.
They move together, their bodies undulating in a languid, sultry dance. The gardener’s hands grip her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he guides her movements. Meera rides him with abandon, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her hair cascading down her back in dark, silken waves. All the while, the sun beats down upon them, baking their sweat-slicked bodies as they unite in carnal bliss.
Her climax builds slowly, like a tidal wave crashing on the shore. Meera cries out, her nails raking down the gardener’s chest as the waves of pleasure crash over her, leaving her shuddering and spent. The gardener follows suit, his seed spilling into her as he bellows his release.
They collapse together in the grass, their bodies glistening with exertion. Meera curls into his side, her head resting on his chest as she listens to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Come to my chambers tonight,” she whispers. “And we shall see what other delights Madam has in store.”
As the sun begins to set, casting the garden in a romantic, moody glow, Meera slips back inside, a secretive smile perched upon her lips. She silently climbs the stairs, pausing ever so slightly in front of her bedroom door. With a swift, fluid motion, she slips inside, the door closing softly behind her, sealing away the illicit secrets of the afternoon.
And as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in delicate hues of orange and pink, Meera awaits her next tryst, her heart full of desire and her body aching for a night of forbidden passion. For sir may not be at home, but madam is full of heart…and the insatiable craving for more.
