Slutty fuck story with my horny gay fruitseller

Slutty fuck story: Hi myself jasus this is my second story in igs and it’s about my recent experience with my fruit seller.

About my fruit seller he’s 25 dusky brown indian men with great body and a big dick. Meanwhile I am 20 lean body and a cute lil ass
lets continue with the story.

The sun beat down, turning the afternoon into a furnace. Sweat trickled down my back as I waited, perched on the edge of the sofa. The house was empty, the silence thick and expectant.

Mom and Dad were at some kitty party, and the servants had the day off. Perfect.
Then, the familiar call pierced the stillness. “Aam! Taaze aam!”
My heart skipped a beat. Mahesh.

I hurried to the door, throwing it open. The sight of him always hit me like a jolt. Dusky skin gleaming with sweat, muscles straining against his thin shirt, a basket overflowing with mangoes balanced on his head. He was a goddamn masterpiece.

“Namaste, babu ji,” he grinned, his teeth flashing white against his dark skin. “Aaj toh bilkul laal aam laaya hoon. Ekdum ras se bhare hue.”

“Kitne ka hai, Mahesh?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but my eyes betrayed me, roaming over his body.

He lowered the basket, his eyes meeting mine, a hint of amusement dancing in them. “Aap ke liye toh jo dil kare, babu ji. Aap toh hamesha acche se bhav karte ho.”

I stepped aside, gesturing him in. “Aa jao, aa jao. Itni dhoop mein kyun khade ho? Andar aao, thoda juice pi lo.”

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the open door. “Nahin, babu ji. Main toh bas…”
“Koi nahin hai ghar mein,” I cut him off, my voice dropping a little. “Maa-baap gaye hain party mein. Aao toh sahi.”

He finally relented, stepping inside. The air conditioning seemed to wash over him, and I watched as he visibly relaxed. The scent of mangoes filled the room, mingling with his musky, masculine smell.

“Waah, babu ji, kya ghar hai aapka,” he said, looking around. “Ekdum thanda-thanda.”

“Tum bhi toh thande ho,” I blurted out, then immediately wanted to swallow my tongue.

His eyes widened slightly, and he chuckled. “Main? Main toh bas gareeb aadmi hoon, babu ji. Kahan mere mein thandak?”

“Jhooth mat bolo, Mahesh,” I said, stepping closer. “Maine dekha hai. Tumhare paas bhi ras hai. Aam se bhi zyada juicy.”

His gaze locked with mine, the amusement gone, replaced by something else, something hot and dangerous. “Kya bol rahe ho, babu ji? Yeh sab baatein…”

“Sach bol raha hoon,” I whispered, reaching out and touching his arm. His skin was warm, almost burning beneath my fingertips. “Tumhare muscles… ekdum pathar ki tarah. Aur tumhari kamar… uff.”

He didn’t pull away. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

“Babu ji…” he started, his voice hoarse.

I placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shhh. Koi nahin sun raha hai.”

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. “Tumhare aam toh main baad mein khaunga. Pehle, mujhe tumhara juice chahiye.”

I felt him shudder. I took his hand and led him towards my room, my heart pounding in my chest. He followed, his eyes never leaving mine.

My room was dark, the curtains drawn against the harsh sunlight. I pushed him gently onto the bed, and he landed with a soft thud. I knelt before him, my hands reaching for his shirt.

“Ruko,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Yeh sab… theek nahin hai.”

“Theek kya hota hai, Mahesh?” I asked, my fingers fumbling with the buttons. “Zindagi mein kuch bhi theek nahin hota. Bas jo dil chahta hai, woh karna chahiye.”

I pulled his shirt open, revealing his chest. His dark skin was smooth and taut, his nipples hard. I leaned forward and kissed one, sucking gently. He groaned, his hands gripping my hair.

“Babu ji… aah…”

I moved to the other nipple, teasing it with my tongue. He arched his back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I could feel his cock hardening beneath his pants.

I stood up and unbuckled his belt, slowly pulling down his zipper. He didn’t resist. His eyes were closed, his face flushed. I reached inside and pulled out his cock.

It was magnificent. Thick and dark, pulsing with life. I ran my hand up and down its length, and he moaned.

“Chuso,” he gasped. “Chuso ise, babu ji.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned down and took his cock into my mouth, sucking hard. He tasted earthy and musky, and I loved it. He bucked against my mouth, his hands gripping my head, urging me on.

“Aur zor se,” he moaned. “Aur zor se, babu ji. Mujhe pagal kar do.” I obliged, sucking and licking, driving him closer and closer to the edge. He was trembling, his body slick with sweat.

Finally, with a guttural cry, he came in my mouth. I swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him.

He collapsed back onto the bed, panting. I wiped my mouth and looked at him. His eyes were glazed, his face flushed with pleasure.
“Tum… tum kamaal ho, babu ji,” he said, his voice still shaky.
I grinned. “Tum bhi kuch kam nahin ho, Mahesh.”

I straddled him, my own cock throbbing. “Ab meri baari.”

I pulled down my pants and positioned myself over him. He watched me, his eyes filled with anticipation. I lowered myself slowly, feeling his cock slide inside me.
“Ufff,” I groaned, closing my eyes. It felt incredible. Hot and tight and perfect.

I started to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He met my thrusts, his hands gripping my ass, pulling me closer. We were a tangle of limbs and sweat, lost in the moment.

“Babu ji… main… main aa raha hoon,” he gasped.
“Jao,” I urged him. “Jao, Mahesh. Mujhe bhi le chalo.”

We came together, our bodies shaking with pleasure. I collapsed on top of him, our breaths mingling.

We lay there for a long time, not saying anything. Just breathing. Finally, he stirred.
“Mujhe jaana chahiye,” he said, his voice low.

Slutty fuck story of horny gay boy seducing a seller

I nodded, understanding. “Theek hai.”
He got up and started to get dressed. I watched him, my heart aching.
“Kal aaoge?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and regret. “Main… main nahin jaanta.”

He finished dressing and walked to the door. He paused, looking back at me.
“Shukriya, babu ji,” he said softly. “Aaj ke liye…”

And then he was gone.

I lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling. The scent of mangoes still hung in the air, a reminder of what had just happened.

I didn’t know if I would ever see Mahesh again. But I knew that I would never forget him. He had awakened something in me, something wild and untamed. And I knew that I would never be the same.