Priyanka Chopra Fucked Bollywood Actress Fucking Sex Stories In English : Priyanka Chopra sighed. There was no doubt about it: she had begun to feel really horny. This was not an entirely new
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
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.”
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.
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 o