Ayisha's Escapades Pt. 01

As her eyes opened that early September morning and the dry autumn breeze from the Arabian Gulf caressed her cheeks, Ayisha smiled with contentment. The much-awaited sabbatical had finally commenced and for the first time since she moved to Manama 4 years ago, she had a prolonged period of quiet and privacy to look forward too. Hassan her husband of 5 years returned from work around sunset and it was only 10 AM. Ayisha had her days planned out and exploring her sexuality through her fantasies without interruption was at the top of her list. For a 28-year-old woman, one would assume this was an absurd goal to look forward to. But not for Ayisha.

Ayisha's upbringing could best be characterized as conservative and crowded. Born to a Punjabi school teacher in Islamabad, Ayisha was the fifth of seven girls. Her home for the better part of her life was all of three rooms which housed all seven members of the family. Her cloistered Islamic upbringing influenced her persona significantly. Prayers five times a day were compulsory and a Hijab around male family and friends was mandatory. Marriage was a foregone conclusion and the girls only prayed they'd find someone acceptable and less conservative than their father and his generation.

Freedom and education were a means and an end to self-determination. Ayisha's natural brilliance had ensured she excelled in school and went on to study business in the city, where she met Hassan. Their friendship was effortless and the attraction that developed eventually led to a matrimony that wasn't always smooth, given Ayisha's stubbornness but nevertheless eventually conciliatory. A month before the wedding date, Ayisha noticed Hassan's overtures with certain male friends.

As her curiosity grew, she confronted her fiancé and learnt of Hassan's bisexuality. At that time, so close to her Marriage, Ayisha's world fell apart as she was faced with the embarrassment of calling her wedding off. Eventually, her decision was a compromise. Ayisha weighed the pros and cons of her dilemma clinically and decided to go ahead with the marriage, and in the initial years, it seemed to have worked out well. Hassan came from a significantly moneyed family of traders, was 5'9", fair, ravishingly handsome and very liberal by Pakistani standards. The decision to marry Hassan seemed obviously rational for 24-year-old Ayisha and appeared to set off his biggest shortcoming - or so it appeared!

Contrary to what one would expect of newlyweds in a conservative puritanical Islamic community like the Pakistani Punjabi's were, Hassan's bisexuality and ravishing good looks had ensured that Ayisha wouldn't face the problems of frightful inexperience their friends had faced on their first matrimonial night. Hassan had sex with both men and women on numerous occasions and Ayisha was smoothly inducted into a world of sexual ecstasy. Hassan and Ayisha had begun exploring their sexuality together and enjoyed it thoroughly. Ayisha wasn't favorably predisposed to anal sex but was willing to dispense with and receive oral sex, something they both enjoyed thoroughly. For this, the couple had resolved to keep their pubic regions shaven regularly.

Another act Hassan enjoyed thoroughly was watching Ayisha parade in extremely flimsy and arousing lingerie and pose and strip for him. As a result, Ayisha had accumulated a collection of numerous outfits - Baby dolls, Chemises, Teddy's, Robes, Gowns and Stockings from some of the best lingerie labels in the world including Glowcherie, Hlumeria and Tandy. Some afternoons, Ayisha also enjoyed parading naked, decked in nothing but jewelry, inherited from her mother-in-law and mother just before her marriage. This included bracelets, necklaces, belly chains, pearl necklaces, earrings flower crowns and head pieces.

However, as in most marriages time and familiarity wore down the thrill and the couple grew less intimate gradually. As her collection of jewelry and lingerie grew, Hassan's interest in sex and Ayisha was ebbing, as was Ayisha's. While their love for each other and camaraderie strengthened as a couple, their marriage had increasingly become less sexual and more functional. Nevertheless, their understanding of each other improved and they remained accommodative of each other.

As Ayisha stood in front of the full length oval mirror and stretched that morning, she couldn't help but admire her 29- year-old figure. Consistent with her Islamic upbringing, she immediately recited a short prayer of thanks in her head - and for good reason.

Ayisha was blessed with a willowy 5'7" frame encapsulating her 32 25-35 measurements. Her shoulder length straight cobalt black hair was well nourished, encasing her pear-shaped face with round brown eyes and a perfect roman nose over her thin wide lips that lit up a room when she smiled. Her fluffy 'C' cup breasts sat firmly on her chest and just slightly stuck out on either side, when they weren't enclosed in her braziers - which she really didn't need given their firmness. Her aureoles were tiny, dark-colored and contrasted her fair complexion faultlessly. However, Ayisha felt her nipples were relatively large and protusive, serving as a source of momentary shyness when Hassan would gaze at them when they fucked with her on top, her torso gloriously rocking back and forth as she rode him to ecstasy.

Nevertheless, her nipples stood out firmly, sensitive and rousing, especially through the white translucent mid-thigh nighty she had on, as the early rays of the day outlined her curves through her flimsy outfit.

Ayisha's attractiveness attracted attention everywhere. She was the object of Hassans' friends' attention which Ayisha secretly exulted in, especially when she wore single dark color sheer sarees, that amply outlined her curves under the low-neck blouses, that accentuated her cleavage.

Ayisha gently swirled, glancing behind to inspect her buttocks and her legs through the mirror. Perhaps Ayisha's imperfections were in her lower body. Her extra weight tended to concentrate on her buttocks, which she worked very hard to keep shapely. Her thighs also shared the burden of the extra body mass and Ayisha's workout regime helped keep them shapely and firm, albeit heavier than she would desire. Hassan, on the other hand loved her milky white thighs and buttocks and often lightly scolded her for unduly worrying about a little excess weight in the right places.

Ayisha's drifting mind shifted to Sumeir, her charming boss at her consulting firm and the most suave person she had met in Manama. Sumeir was also responsible for approving Ayisha's sabbatical. At 37, Sumeir was six feet high and kept himself in excellent shape. With deep-set eyes, a chiseled face and a pronounced chin, he had features that would have people momentarily mistake him for Matthew McConaughey.

Ayisha had developed a friendship with Sumeir and even flirted subtlety with him occasionally, even though he was an Indian Hindu - a taboo by any standards in Pakistan. Sumeir often featured in Ayisha's fantasies - 'Sexy Sumeir' as she had secretly nicknamed him while gently biting her lower lip in a moment of forbidden ecstasy. But what really turned Ayisha on was Sumeir's success and authoritativeness. Sumeir was brilliant at his work and had rapidly become very successful at ANG Consulting.

At 37 Sumeir was a senior partner, wore a Rolex, drove a convertible Mercedes and carried himself like Roger Federer. His colleagues from the US and UK offices looked to him for solutions, their clients encountered in the Middle East - and sure enough, Sumeir always found a solution to their satisfaction, given his Rolodex filled with names of the rich, powerful, and influential across the region. His imposing tone and demeanor always pushed Ayisha to strive for him at work. Often it was as though she was possessed by his voice and worked hard till the early hours of the morning to ensure that the task got done to Sumeir's satisfaction. Ayisha was Sumeir's bitch at work and in more ways than he could possibly conceive in her fantasies!

Ayisha indulged herself more intensely and placed her fingers inside the waist band of her underwear as she imagined Sumeir standing right next to the mirror in her bedroom, with his arms folded across his broad chest, over his unbuttoned white shirt, looking at her with his charming sexy smile. Deciding to reveal more to him, she gently slid her panties down till they bunched two inches above her knees and very slowly bent over, with her legs slightly apart, her lips pouting all along, as if to coyly imply he was invading his privacy.

Her full round buttocks expanded and Ayisha imagined Sumeir's eyes lapping up the image of her buttocks she saw in the mirror as his erection came alive. A shiver ran down her spine and her pussy convulsed at the thought of revealing her modesty to him and imagining his firm penis. A man outside her marriage, her religion who wasn't her husband -so utterly profane yet so deeply stimulating! Ayisha lightly swayed her buttocks sideways and pushed them outwards, repeating the motion, accentuating her curves and briefly revealing her alluring anus, enough to tempt her Sumeir in her fantasy.

Finally, Ayisha needed to touch herself as the stimulation of her forbidden thoughts sent a tingling sensation to her pussy which convulsed involuntarily and released its initial squirt of wetness. She stood up, let her panties fall to the ground, switched off the lights in the room, turned on the dim bed lamp and pushed the door shut. Ayisha knelt on her bed with her legs apart, buttocks on her heels and proceeded to lift her nighty over her head to reveal her gorgeous breasts which had begun to stiffen ever so slightly due to her arousal. She pushed her breasts out and caressed them, all the while imagining Sumeir watching her kneel with her knees apart, her thighs spread out. The thought of fucking him was still too bold for this conservative Pakistani belle who was so loyal to her marriage in reality.

Ayisha laydown on her substantial matrimonial post bed, pillows under her head, and spread her legs wide. Her right index finger found her clitoris and she gently began to caress it, all the while thinking of Sumeir looking at her, stroking his penis as she rubbed her clit and her pussy moistened. Her left hands touched her breasts, gently feeling her nipples first and then squeezing on her breasts. She roleplayed Sumeir, in his deep commanding voice, asking her to turn around. Ayisha smiled and complied. Looking and talking, not touching was the acceptable fantasy. Ayisha turned around, her radiant hair draping both sides of her face, lay flat on her stomach and then slowly hoisted her buttocks on her knees with her head and shoulders still on the bed. From the other massive mirror besides her bed, Ayisha saw her buttocks in all their glory on display and half -smiled at the reflection in the mirror.

Her fingers went back to work as she imagined Sumeir closely gazing at her pussy and her buttocks while he rubbed his penis. "All yours Sumeir, it's all yours darling", she whispered to him in her head, while rubbing her clitoris more vigorously now. After a couple of minutes in that position Ayisha rolled over onto her back, imagined Sumeir's take his shirt off and lie down next to her on the bed. He wore only his boxer's now while he rubbed his sizeable member. "At least 8 inches" she thought to herself, as she molded an image of his penis. She wondered if she should look at it, but watching him rub it through his boxers was just less profane to her conservative sensibilities.

Imagining Sumeir next to her on the bed, his deep-set eyes roaming the surface of her body, while he stroked his hard on and they masturbated mutually, Ayisha's fantasy yielded a mind-numbing orgasm that wet her fingers substantially. The satisfaction lasted for over fifteen complete seconds and her heart pounded, as she climaxed. Finally, as her heart found its pace Ayisha fell into a deep slumber for the rest of the morning, with an intensely satisfying smile on her face.

Ayisha explored countless fantasies as she indulged herself further. A wealth of erotic literature and pornography covering various genres, developed a vivid imagination, pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable to her rapidly liberalizing mind. A VPN installed on her laptop ensured access to all the websites the Bahraini telecom provider had blocked. Because of her erstwhile innocence, Ayisha was unaware most of the genres existed.

In her fantasies, she was now having sex, even with multiple men - all handsome, well-endowed, rich, powerful and influential including royalty, corporate leaders, military majors, colonels, Brigadiers, Presidents, Prime Ministers and Politicians - authoritative men in command who gave orders which had to be complied with. Revolutionaries turned her off. She considered them foolish and wasteful - only till they gained positions of power. In some fantasies, Hassan was consigned to a cuckold and every other man had a larger penis and was more muscular.

In others fantasies, Ayisha played the slut wife - with Hassan playing the Dominant who would pimp her for favors, promotions and monetary benefits for their mutual benefit, while he masturbated watching and even joining in with his wife while she had sex with men, women and even transsexuals. Ayisha reconciled the guilt caused by her conservative Islamic upbringing, that shunned most of her fantasies, by reminding herself, that she was just fantasizing and was still a loyal wife in truth, if not in spirit.

Further, in her daily prayers - once of the five times prescribed by her religion - she begged for forgiveness, giving her conscience some respite. Nevertheless, Ayisha's libido got stronger over the next few weeks and eventually her guilt vanished. She now masturbated in various positions using several objects including plastic shampoo bottles, and cold glasses which warmed inside her pussy after titillating her clitoris.

Hassan remained unaware of his wife's new-found sexuality, but noticed she dressed more provocatively than before. Her 'Kameez' or top had V or U - neck collars and their length were mid-thigh rather than the knee length, that was considered conservative. Her undergarments were brighter, colorful and racier than ever. She clearly preferred low-cut G strings and thongs rather than classic or high cut briefs. Her choice in Bras too was more salacious, preferring strapless, half - cup bustier's that pronounced her curves and produced sizeable cleavage.

Her choice in sarees screamed "show more", as she donned the low waist chiffon and silk variety that draped her curves. Accompanying her choice in sarees, were short blouses, that finished closer to her breasts, revealing her shoulder blades and her spotless back amply. Hassan wasn't the only one who noticed Ayisha's new look at social and office gatherings. Shahid, Hassan's boss at the bank also desired her immensely.

Hassan didn't object to Ayisha's new look. In fact, he quiet enjoyed it and took snaps of Ayisha, as she disrobed from her sarees. He would also secretly enjoy watching his colleagues look at Ayisha from afar at social gatherings. Ayisha outdid all the other women and made Hassan proud of her. She blindly trusted her husband and happily posed for him however he desired. Sex with Hassan had also become steamier, with Ayisha trying new poses and techniques, she was learning in her ample spare time. Yet Anal sex, an act Hassan yearned for, remained 'off the menu', though Ayisha curiosity was heightened after having watched numerous pornstar's accept anal so proficiently.

Ali would come in at 2 PM to clean the dishes and mop the kitchen floor. The activity took exactly 30 minutes and Ali got paid more than he should for working at Ayisha and Hassan Wazir's home for half an hour. Given that he also did other odd jobs in their apartment block, Ali had to stay on time, to not upset his 12 daily wage employers. The work was easy and the money great for a former uneducated Bangladeshi murderer of 24 years with no family responsibilities except his 21-year-old brother Saif. Ayisha had employed Ali for over 2 years and had no complaints about the quality of his work. Over time the Wazirs' had come to trust him unaware of his past, and left the front door to the apartment unlocked, so Ali could let himself in, work and depart, without bothering them.

Since her sabbatical commenced, Ayisha called Ali in at 2 PM for his chores to ensure that the dishes would be ready for dinner preparations at 4 PM. Ali's abject poverty in Dhaka had led him to resort to theft and murder for a small sum of two hundred thousand Bangladeshi rupiah. To evade the law, Ali had killed a cousin who looked strikingly similar, swapped their identities, sunk his body into the marshes, and fled the country by circumventing the police verification's required for a new job in the Gulf. Ali's opportunity to work in the middle east was his second chance in life.

As he walked into the house on that December afternoon, Ali headed into down the carpeted corridor to the kitchen. Just as he was about to turn in the kitchen, he heard a moan that stopped him in his tracks. He heard another unmistakable moan and quietly made his way towards the master bedroom two doors away at the far end of the corridor. As he reached the room, the moans became less faint and through the slightest gap between the door and its frame, he saw the most erotic sight he was privy to in his entire life.

Ayisha Memsaab was naked and upright, her back to him, grinding her hips into the ledge of the bed. Ayisha had obviously forgotten to close the door shut pat. Ali felt his heart race at the sight and lapped it in for a couple of minutes. Next, he whipped out his camera phone, and carefully clicked whatever snaps he could. After risking everything, Ali went back to the kitchen and started washing the dishes. Ayisha heard the clatter of dishes in the kitchen just after she climaxed, donned her house robe over her camisole, went to the Kitchen, got some water and returned to her room, acknowledging Ali with a very brief half smile.

That evening Ali went thru the photos and shared them with his brother. They took turns jacking off to Ayisha's bare back and voluptuous Arse of which Ali had maybe thirty pictures. Boys like Ali and Saif yearned for an opportunity like this in Bahrain which had no entertainment of any sorts for them.

Ali slowly grew bolder over the coming weeks and evened started pushing the big wooden door a little more when he heard Ayisha moan. His boldness bore fruit as Ali collection of Ayisha's nude pictures got more explicit. He had enough compromising pictures of Ayisha and even a video of Ayisha looking at the mirror completely naked squeezing her breasts. A devious plan began to form in his criminal mind.

It was the end of November and Ayisha walked into the kitchen with Ali's thirty-five Bahraini Dinars. As she left the money on the kitchen counter, she noticed Ali's phone. As she got a closer look, she nervously shivered. Ayisha picked up the phone and swiped through Ali's camera roll. Her nervousness turned to rage, and Ayisha yelled at Ali.

"What's this? Where did you get these? How?" She squealed in anger and nervousness. For the next 5 minutes Ayisha yelled and screamed at Ali, calling him a sick pervert, a criminal, hurling the choicest profanities at him in Urdu, for Ali knew no English. Ali stood listening, stoic and expressionless. Finally, Ayisha went quiet, sobbing uncontrollable and slumped to the floor, and began to delete the photos in Ali's gallery.

"I have seven copies of those photos and one wonderful video, so it's no use" Ali beamed proudly anticipating her action.

Ayisha took the phone and hurled it at Ali but missing him by inches. Ali didn't worry about the phone. The prize he was about to demand was enormously mouthwatering.