Voluptuous Online Stripper

It was a regular Monday at a school in Mominpura. For the entire day, I maintained the demeanour of a pious well-behaved burqa-clad Muslim woman, teaching young girls about the virtues of religion and simultaneously tutoring other mainstream subjects. But I was quite desperate to rush home early and eagerly waited for the final bell.

As soon as the bell rang, I swiftly walked out of the school premise – before the staff and children hoarded towards the main gate. I started walking at a brisk pace towards my apartment which normally takes 15 min to reach.

The ubiquitous humid and sweaty Mumbai, and the full burqa, which included the Naqab (face cover), added to my misery. Nevertheless, it didn’t waver my desperation to reach home quickly.

I passed through the by-lanes of Madanpura while glancing at the street food joints spread across the lane. The temptation took over me for a second, to buy the delicious Shami Kebab and pau, but I decided against it, as I was determined to hurry back home.

I sprinted through the narrow lanes, negotiating the traffic and the bustling crowd. While nearing my apartment, I almost lost sight of the creepy bohrah muslim boy who sits in the grocery shop.

He must be in the early 20s and always in the same traditional attire of Kurta (a long shirt) and an Izaar(trousers); it’s the hand crocheted topi (traditional cap) that gives bohras a distinct identity and separates them from other mainstream Muslims.

This obnoxious young man would everyday ogle at me, leering over my buttocks and hips.

I am voluptuous and the burqa fails to hide my curves. Many times, the fitting is impeccably precise that it actually accentuates the fleshy parts; virtually drawing more attention. Above all, the niqab hides my age and identity. However, nothing mattered because I was in a hurry.

I quickly reached home, opened the door and rushed to my study room. Without wasting a second, I switched on the desktop and comfortably ensconced on office chair; and signed into my Skype account. My virtual friend Ankit was already waiting for me for the last 15 minutes. I apologized and then we started our conversation.

Twenty-year-old Ankit lives in Nagpur and our naughty conversation had been going on for the past few months. My hourglass figure had completely captivated him that the age barrier had completely vanished. This was indeed flattering for a 35-year-old woman; neglected by her husband, who pays no attention to her needs.

After exchanging pleasantries followed by a series of small talks, he reminded me of my promise. Well! It was time to fulfill my commitment and come out of the modest disposition.

Without removing the headscarf and Niqab (face cover), I quickly hiked the Burqa; giving my young admirer a nice show of my well-curved fleshy thighs. I could see the bulge oozing out of his bermudas, which heightened my desire to tease him. He was on the other hand, expectantly waiting for more.

“Pull the dress further up”, he pleaded.

I ignored his request and tormented him by cloaking my naughty bits. After all, covering comes naturally to us, as it is a time-honoured custom. This also included my face to conceal my real identity.

His incessant pleading continued and I kept on provoking; with my body language. Moreover, this was the closest that a burqa-clad traditional woman could fathom about miniskirt.

Alas, he dropped his bermudas along with the briefs. The moment he dragged the briefs below his dick pop up, he spread his legs, enveloped his hands around the twitching cock and started playing with it. Perhaps, the temptation and testosterone overtook his patience.

The poor chap couldn’t contain himself but all this was a real turn on for me. My eyes transfixed to his hard dick savouring every inch of it.

Meanwhile, I was in a dilemma whether to take the tease to the next level. I was acting like a selfish bitch ignoring this young lad loaded with testosterone. The promise was a little ambiguous too. I only agreed upon hiking the dress and there was no guarantee of flashing the undies and privy parts.

I guess my legs and thighs were sufficient to arouse him. He was probably like many others who buy into a popular narrative portrayed by media and TV channels which fuels the imagination and create a mysterious image of a damsel from Arabian nights. We burqa-clad women are like forbidden fruit, desired, yet tarnished.

He continued playing with his tool while begging me to hike my dress. And I was getting sadistic pleasure in tantalizing him. His dick was hard and thick, I have seen bigger dicks, and also experienced it in the last ten years when I decided to go astray and explore my sensual side.

I slowly lifted the Niqab and asked in a coquettish manner, “Do you want me to lift more?”

In an exasperated tone, he replies, “Yesss pleaseee!!”

The desperation was at its peak. I stood up, moved back, and gently began to lift the loose dress way above my knees while keeping my front portion deliberately covered which once again deprived my young friend to get a glimpse of my underwear. Nevertheless, I could see that he was thrilled to live his fantasy.

I slid my fingers around the hips giving an excellent view of my curvy region. He kept drooling over my fair-skinned shapely body. I kept on lifting and dropping the loose-fitting dress and skillfully hiding the undies.

He was baffled over my vagarie and I kept on teasing him, Moreover, I was in total control.

In a teasing tone, I asked, “Do you want to jerk off?”

All I could see was a stupid grin on his face, while slowly stroking his cock.

He was always reserved and quiet. It was me doing the talking and teasing.

I reiterated, “If you tell me, I might help.”

He got the message this time and shouted, “Yesssss!!!”

“Oh! There you go.” I lifted the dress right up over my belly button, exposing my black underwear. That boosted his spirit and he was back to action, rubbing his dick vigorously.

I pulled my dress further up giving a nice view of my black bra. Here I was in a nice two-piece dress, tantalizing the young man.

While masturbating, he requested me to turn back and I obliged this time, flashing my shapely bubble butt.

Although I couldn’t see him, the smutty comments in shaky voice were little audible. He kept on saying, “I wanna fuck you, I wanna stick my dick in your hole.”

Expecting a polished language at this stage was rather unrealistic. It didn’t bother me as I was guilty of unleashing the animal in him. Also, he was horny and wild by then.

I kept on shaking my big butt and could imagine his eyes fixed over my butt cheeks. I remained like that for a minute and then turned back to find my young friend collapsed holding his limp cock.

We bid farewell and I was back to modesty. It was time to return to the usual routine married life. My husband was on his way. I quickly deleted the conversation on Skype and signed off. More flashing to come in other parts.

Stay tuned!