The shower water has long since run cold. Those laughing, jeering voices have echoed into nothingness. Still I stand here, shivering and cowering, hoping like hell I am truly alone. Soon I will climb out of this cold, thundering stream and run through to the changing room. Naked. Those bastards have taken my towel and my sweaty cricket gear, even my box, shoes and socks.nnI flick the tap off, momentarily staring down at my pale, goose-pimpled body. I'm tall, around 6'3". Since I've gained height in a hurry over the last two years, I often feel uncoordinated. My wet arms are long and thin; lean, my Dad calls it. I'm like that all over. Sparse, black hair forms a triangle at the top of my chest and trails like ants to my pubes. To each soft, erected hair, a few tiny droplets of water cling, resisting the urge to run down my skin and join the rest on the floor. My nipples are blushing pink and have hardened in response to the cold air and water. Despite the temperature, the bruises are beginning to show on my chest. They sting a little as I move. I think the pressure of the shower has stirred them up. nnI'm not the sort of guy that cries. No, I grin and bear this sort of shit, give some lip and a fist back where I can. But today, grinning and bearing it doesn't cut the mustard.

Jus8tine helped with editing this, the second of two my wife wrote for me. It has been modified for posting on Literotica. If you haven't read Ch. 01, let me invite you to do so. We appreciate your comments and encouragement. I have been assigned to write Chap. 03 and should post it soon. Thanks for reading.nn~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~nnWe awake naked in a tangle of downy comforters as the light of early afternoon sifts through the gaps in the velvet curtains of our bed.nn"Morning," you whisper.nnI toss my long red hair onto the pillow and turn to look at you, finally rested after two days of running all over London, seven-hour jetlag and magical floating spinning tumbling midair sex thanks to the wand on loan to us for our stay. I'm rested too, and shoot you a smile to let you know that I'm ready and willing to do it all again.nnBut first we're hungry. I lean over the bed and reach a pile of clothing that we shed earlier. I brush aside my bra and wiggle into my pullover sweater and toss you your jeans and flannel shirt. I ring the bell. Instantly, the house elf appears catching you naked in the middle of the room, your clothes scattered at your feet. With only my sweater on, I pull down the front to hide my still warm orifice, but not without having flashed her a view she could not have missed. But at least I'm covered now.nnWith nowhere to hide, you freeze with unabashed boldness.

It was a hot summer's evening in South Kensington and I was sitting in my room in our Catholic student hostel. I'd just broken up with my girlfriend and was feeling alone and depressed. The thumping heartbeat of a disco came from the basement. There was one every week. The music got on my nerves at times like this. There are two things I can do, I thought. I can sit here and be miserable, or I can go down there, get pissed and maybe hit it off with a chick. I chose the latter.nnDown in the basement it was dark and stuffy. The air was thick with the smells of beer, cigarette smoke, sweat and human passion. Beneath the flash of disco lights a mass of heads bobbed up and down in rhythm with the crashing beat. I was too shy and depressed just to plunge into the middle of them so I stood by the bar and downed several beers, one after the other, eyeing up the girls. This was the age of the miniskirt. There were more girls than boys, and many were dancing barefoot with each other, their feet intersecting, their toes twisting on the floor, their long, graceful legs bending and thrusting forward, sometimes between the legs of their partners. My cock swelled. Some were dancing alone. I caught the eye of one of them, a cool, slender leggy blonde wearing a tight, silvery miniskirt. I went over to her and asked her to dance with me.nnSo there we were, bobbing away to the tune of The Police's 'Message in a Bottle'. We moved closer to each other.

Sahil had really been looking forward to this day! Their schedules had just not managed to synchronize for over a month now, but finally, they were going to get a chance to be alone this evening!nnSahil had met Ekta a couple of months ago at a seminar. He worked as the Business Head of jewelry manufacturing Company, and Ekta happened to be a contracted designer with the same firm, who had been called upon to accompany Sahil and 4 of his male colleagues to the seminar. Sahil had hit it off with her the very 1st time that they interacted and she too had been totally at ease with him, much to the chagrin of Sahil's male colleagues, all of whom probably harboured some hope of action with this bright young designer.nnUnfortunately for Sahil, even though the seminar was a weekend affair, all of them being locals of Mumbai city meant that the Company had made no Hotel reservations, and instructed that all the delegates go home every evening instead. Sahil, though, had a couple of official lunches with Ekta at the seminar, and by the time the 3 days were over, he had developed quite a crush on her. She was 5 feet 4 inches, had long dark hair usually tied in a loose bun, and her typically traditionally Indian sense of dressing made her appear a little older than her 26 years. She was nicely curvy, had a pert but nicely proportionate 32B size bust-line, and her fitted salwar-kurtas highlighted her curvy body beautifully. nnSahil had felt a twitch in his crotch from the moment he laid eyes on Ekta, but her almost nonchalant attitude and her conservative style of dressing led him to believe that she was unlikely to frolic with a 32 yr old married father of one! nnHe was always on the lookout for willing sexy women, but he never liked to force the issue, and found as much pleasure in the chase as in the kill. He liked to flirt his way into a woman's good books, and then take it easy until he made up his mind that the woman was worth cheating on his wife for. In the three days that he spent with a well above averagely intelligent Ekta, Sahil realized that he had never been with anyone like her before, for a number of reasons: nnHaving started work 4 years ago, she worked hard to find her way out of her lower middle-class home in Ranchi (a small town in Central India) and come to Mumbai to land this job. He had always gone for the urban types before. Secondly, she dressed very traditionally, without ever revealing much skin at all. Again, not a quality he typically cared to go for. Like most red-blooded males, he was typically attracted towards women in figure hugging or revealing western clothes.nnTheir time at the seminar had resulted in some flirting, which raised, among other things, Sahil's hopes of some action. But the hectic schedule of the Seminar and the fact that there was no Hotel accommodation resulted in no action whatsoever! nnFor about 6 weeks now, they had been exchanging emails and text messages which had bordered on suggestive.