experience for her, but it had become a lot more noticeable since she separated from her boyfriend. Her new lover was okay,
but he did not satisfy her the way her boyfriend had.
Of course, what she was doing might be calculated to make anyone horny. Hardly ever before had she shown off so much of her
body for photographs in a magazine. But she had agreed to it this time, partly because the magazine was paying her quite a
compliment, partly in a spirit of defying the years. The well-known revealing shots of her, posed for or taken clandestinely,
were a long time ago.
So here she was, kneeling on her bed in nothing but a pair of cutoff jeans. For these last shots the photographer, a
youngish, quite cute man, had persuaded her to lose the bottom of the bikini she had worn in other shots, whose strings
showed distractingly in the poses he wanted her to take. The knowledge that all she had to do was unfasten and drop the
cutoffs to be totally naked was a powerful turn-on. And they were so loose at the top that a hand could go down inside them
easily, which made her feel even more excited. To know that her hand – or someone else's – could reach down there and …
Whoah! She felt her nipples, always sensitive, stiffen at the thought.
Now it was impossible to get her mind off thoughts of sex. What was she to do? She was almost sure the photographer had a
crush on her; he was completely professional, but there was something in his voice. But if she came on to him, she would only
scare him, in all probability. She sighed again.
"Something bothering you?" said the photographer sympathetically. "Thinking about … the separation?"
She shook her head and tried to think of something plausible. "Not really. I was just thinking, how the years pass."
"No one would know it, to look at you," he said with conviction. "You look just as great as you did ten years ago."
"That's so sweet," she said, with a grateful sideways look at him, "but is it really true?"
His lips twitched. "They still look pretty damn good."
She chuckled, recognising the reference, and looked down at her breasts. The shots he had set up would make sure they were
only part-visible in the photos, but in the course of it he had naturally got a complete view. "Thanks."
Yes, they do look good, she said to herself; that's why she was happy to show them. But it would be so great to have someone
recognise the fact, not just with words and looks, but with his hands.
"Okay, we're done," he said.
She got off the bed, and had an inspiration. She stood with her back to him.
"How about the back view? How's that holding up?"
"Great!" he said very emphatically. "I always thought you had a very fine ass, if you don't mind my saying so."
"I don't mind at all," she said cheerfully. "But can you really see from over there? Come closer."
He did so. "It … hasn't changed at all," he said, his voice a little higher.
"But how can you judge, when I'm wearing these?" she said. She undid the cutoffs and let them fall. "What d'you say now?" Her
breath was coming just a little fast, and she could feel herself getting wet, while her nipples had stiffened so much they
He gasped, and when he spoke again, after a pause, his voice was definitely trembling.
"You're beautiful," he stammered. "Absolutely beautiful."
She decided to go for broke. "Of course, seeing is one thing," she said casually, "but feeling is quite another. Would you
like to feel my butt?" By now, her heart was in her mouth with excitement.
There was another pause, and she found herself holding her breath. Then he gulped audibly, and said, "More than anything in
She heard him step forward. Then two slightly shaking hands – nice and warm, to her pleasure – cupped her butt, ran lightly
over it, then clasped her cheeks more firmly.
She produced a long sighing moan. "Oh, that feels so good." She moved back towards him, hoping he would have the nerve to go
The photographer could not believe his luck. His hands were on the naked ass of the woman he had always thought one of the
most desirable in Bollywood. As he gently squeezed and fondled her ass cheeks, he wondered whether he dared go further. Would
she get mad? But she seemed to be encouraging him. Now she was moving her ass against his hand slightly and making little
noises that excited him.
He took a breath to nerve himself and ran his hands slowly round to her sides and then up, greatly enjoying the softness of
her skin over her firm, taut body. As he neared her breasts he slowed, again uncertain whether he dared go further.
She turned her head and looked at him in frank invitation. "Go on," she whispered a little breathlessly, leaning back more.
He brought his hands round and closed them decisively on her delightful breasts, which seemed to fit his grasp perfectly. Her
nipples were bullet hard. She groaned with pleasure and seemed to push against his hands as he gently squeezed and caressed,
while shifting his position a little to accommodate a now totally stiff erection inside his pants.
Suddenly she reached behind her and a hand found and felt his straining cock. With a delicious giggle she turned her head,
showing that laughing glance he hoped he had captured in his shots. Deftly she undid and pushed down his pants, then stroked
his erection lightly through his boxers. He almost came on the spot and gasped sharply as he desperately tried to exert
control over himself; involuntarily his hands tightened on her breasts, gripping them hard.
"Sorry," he said, loosening his grip again, "but …"
"No problem," she said, "I liked it."
Her hand delved into his boxers and she dug her nails into the base of his cock, so hard it hurt. But it lessened the need to
come. Then, keeping her back to him but gripping the top of his boxers with both hands, she firmly rolled them down till they
could drop of their own accord. This made her bend forward, and her ass came into contact with his groin. She giggled again
and, moving out of his grasp, went to her knees, but looked back at him. "Here," she said, running a finger down her butt
crack. "Try it here."
Feeling an almost manic elation, he knelt behind her. He realised that she was not going to take a risk by having unprotected
sex, but he was not complaining. To fuck that delectable ass, even from the outside, was more than he could ever have dreamed
of. Eagerly he moved forward and pressed his cock into her cleft. He took hold of her hips and shifted to get well
positioned, then began to push to and fro slowly, loving the feel of her firm cheeks around his cock.
"That's my boy," she said in a very approving tone, pushing back at him. "That feels good."
Finding his rhythm, he began to thrust harder, and his hands came forward to grip her breasts and play with them again. She
grunted, sounding pleased.
The interviewer paced up and down in the living room, wondering what could be taking them so long. He and the photographer
were due to set out for LA soon. Suddenly he realised that the need to draw their attention to this gave him the perfect
excuse to enter the bedroom and perhaps – a man could dream – get to see more of Priyanka Chopra he had always admired than
had ever been seen in a movie or TV show or magazine, before now. He let himself in quietly, and froze at what he saw. There
was the star, completely naked, on hands and knees on the carpet, being vigorously screwed by the photographer, or so it
"What – ?" he began in amazement.
The photographer stopped his movement abruptly, looking scared, but Priyanka did not appear to be flustered. She simply
grinned, put her finger to her lips, and beckoned.
Stiffly, almost robotically the interviewer moved forward. Giving him the same mischievous smile she had given the
photographer, Priyanka went back on her haunches when he was close enough, then unfastened his pants and pulled them down,
taking his boxers along with them. A nearly erect cock sprang out.
Priyanka turned to the panting photographer, who seemed frozen in position, and said calmly, "Condoms are in the nightstand
drawer." Then she turned back to the interviewer's cock, took hold of it gently, and licked its head. The interviewer groaned
and shuddered, then began throwing off his coat and shirt, while Priyanka took his cockhead into her mouth and began to lick
and suck on it.
Cock still erect, the photographer ran to the nightstand and found a box of condoms. With trembling haste he opened it,
extracted one and tore open the packet, then began to put it on, trying to be careful despite his desperate eagerness.
Meanwhile the interviewer, now wholly naked apart from what was on or heaped around his feet, continued to groan as Priyanka
worked on him. He now had his hand on her head and was moving it, but only a bit, evidently trying to restrain himself from
mashing it into his groin. Priyanka was producing continual noises of pleasure; she was stroking the interviewer's shaft and
fondling his balls with her hands.
Once he was ready, the photographer threw off his shirt to be fully naked, and approached Priyanka again, to take hold of her
hips decisively. She turned with a glint in her eye.
"Ready when you are," she said, spread her legs wider, and bent forward somewhat, pushing the interviewer back a little.
Still unable to believe his luck, the photographer felt for her pussy as he moved closer. His cock stiffened further when he
felt her wet, swollen lips. Urgently he pushed forward to enter her. With what sounded like a groan of need, she pushed back
at him. She was tight, but not too tight: a little more pressure and he was in. He gasped with mixed desire and relief, and
began a vigorous action, still gripping her hips.
"Yes, oh YES!" cried Priyanka, driving back at him while still giving the interviewer's cock her full attention. Just then
she was licking all round the head, as if it was an icecream cone.
The photographer felt as if his head would burst with excitement. Here he was, actually fucking the woman he had idolised
since he was fourteen. Unfortunately, in his ecstatic state he ignored the signs that he was approaching a point of no
return, and only realised at the last moment that he was about to come.
"Oh no!" he gasped in dismay and stopped all movement, trying to hold back. But Priyanka was still moving on him, and it was
too late. With a groan of frustration he let go, and began to thrust violently at her, determined to get as much out of it as
"Mmm!" went Priyanka approvingly, grinding against him. When he began to slow down, gasping, she removed her mouth from the
interviewer's cock and looked up at him with a wicked expression. Divining her meaning, he quickly freed himself from all
encumbrances round his feet and went for the condom box.
"I, I'm sorry," the photographer gasped. "I, I …"
"Don't worry about it, honey," said Priyanka, turning to pat his cheek. "It was good to feel you in there, and it's kind of a
compliment that you wanted me so much."
The interviewer returned, cock proudly aloft.
"Lie down," said the star. "I want to ride you."
Obediently the interviewer lay down. Looking pleased, Priyanka moved away from the photographer and onto the interviewer, to
place his cock at her entrance and bear down. He gasped as she skilfully fitted herself on him. With smiling eyes but intent
expression, she moved her body around until she found what she evidently thought was the perfect fit, and began to ride him
The photographer watched them disconsolately. I was just so excited, he said to himself. If I got to do it a second time … He
looked back enviously at the couple; the interviewer seemed to have himself well in hand, not giving any signs of imminent
ejaculation, while Priyanka was beginning to sound very excited. An image flashed into his brain unbidden, inspired no doubt
by porn movies watched in the past: he saw Priyanka impaling herself on both their cocks simultaneously. The thought was
extremely stimulating; to his delight, his cock began to lengthen again. Keeping lustful thoughts firmly at the forefront of
his mind, he approached the now rather noisily active couple, pausing only to pick up a fresh condom.
Priyanka was very pleased with the interviewer. She was having an excellent ride on him, and could tell that it would end in
a fine orgasm if he could hold on, which he gave every sign of being able to do. But she was startled out of her mood of
ecstatically concentrated movement on his cock by a hand on her shoulder. She stopped and turned to see the pleading eyes,
and erect cock, of the photographer. It did not take much brains to guess what he was asking for. She gave a wild laugh.
"Never done it before," she cried, "but … all right!" She lifted her ass and spread her legs very wide, coming off the
The photographer had never been in this position either, but he kneeled, took hold of her hips and lowered her onto him. She
pushed down slowly, and he removed one hand to hold his cock in place.
"Aaagh!" she groaned. "Kind of … tight …" But she persevered, and he tried to push upwards. Suddenly the interviewer got to
his knees, put his hands on her shoulders and pushed down.
"AAAGGGHH!!" screamed Priyanka, but it was done: the photographer was inside. Slowly she wormed her body down the
photographer's cock, while he pushed up and supported her. Then she looked at the interviewer, waiting patiently.
"Okay," she gasped. He moved forward and entered her pussy again without much difficulty. She gasped, grinned, then chuckled.
"Never done this before," she repeated, and began somewhat tentatively to move up and down on the two cocks inside her.
"Ooooohh!" she gasped on an out breath. "This feels … amazing …"
She began to move more confidently. The photographer put his hands round her and played with her breasts; the interviewer
felt down for her mound. She gave a little shriek when he found it and ran his fingers down, to begin rubbing her clit. She
picked up speed further; soon she was driving up and down furiously, with little moans at every down thrust, her eyes wild,
her hair flying. The photographer was squeezing her nipples; the interviewer was pressing hard on her clit.
"Uh, uh, uh … I can't hold it any longer," he suddenly gasped.
"Then GO!" Priynaka screamed.
With a roar the interviewer thrust up and his seed shot out. Priyanka screamed again and began to bounce up and down wildly.
An ecstatic expression on her face, she started to wail as orgasmic pleasure flowed through her body. The photographer had
been thinking that it might take him a while to come this time, but the combination of feeling his colleague's cock jerking
on the other side of the thin membrane separating them, the star's muscular spasms, and their abandoned noises brought him to
it. His voice mingling with theirs, he unloaded again. This time his orgasm ended quickly, and he withdrew before the other
two had finished moving on each other.
"AAAHH … aaaahhh … aaaaaaaahhhhh," gasped Priyanka in a prolonged sigh of satisfaction as she finally relaxed. Body shaking a
little, she got off the interviewer, to spread herself out on the carpet face up, still panting. The interviewer collapsed
onto his back too, while the photographer sat, gazing at the star's flushed face and lovely body as if he could never get
enough of the sight.
Slowly their breathing returned to normal. Finally Priyanka sat up. "Thanks, guys," she said sincerely. "I really needed
something like that." She beamed at them. "You did very well."
"So did you," said the interviewer. It seemed a quite serious comment.
She turned to him. "This was my first time with two, if you'll believe it. I, uh, hope you won't be saying anything … or
hinting …" Suddenly she seemed vulnerable, almost afraid.
"Of course not," he said gently. He smiled at her. "We owe you our total discretion, don't we?" He looked severely at the
The photographer nodded solemnly. "I swear to never breathe a word," he said. "It will be a deeply cherished memory."
"Yes," said the interviewer, "something to tell my grandchildren on my death bed. Not before."
The star smiled at them. "You seem like good guys," she said, "so I'll trust you. Now, maybe you'd like to clean up a little
in the bathroom? I can wait." She turned and went to get a robe, not hurrying but seeming quite confident and unconcerned in
Later, driving back to LA, the photographer said to the interviewer, "You did mean all that, didn't you? I mean … you have
said some things, in your accounts of people you were interviewing."
"I meant every word," said the interviewer firmly. "Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, and, well … she's a
doll, isn't she? It would be mean to let even a hint out, especially now, when she's going through a tough time."
"An absolute doll," the photographer said in emphatic agreement.
"No one would believe me, anyway," said the interviewer.