Thriller Innocent Village girl stuck in USA

[madiha.agarwal]

Good News

I've completed the next update. Once it gets edited,I'll start posting it in xossip.

[sri7869]

Waiting for your beautiful story

[Mampi]

great going .. please continue

[madiha.agarwal]

Thank you for your patience . It was a tough couple of years for me both professionally and personally. I was too busy with my life that i didn't get the time or mood yo write it .

As said before this is not a sex story but a story which has sex . So keep patience while reading . I hope you would enjoy it 

[madiha.agarwal]

Prasad was already facing questions over why he was no longer attending the get-togethers by his friends/colleagues so he knew he had the option to wiggle out of this one. He half heartedly informs Meghna about the party hoping that she might try to read his sad face and sacrifice herself into not going. But Meghna no longer cared about Prasad's feelings anymore and she wanted to use this opportunity to actually tell his friend's wives that she has no issues with the get togethers.



Esmerelda’s sixteen year old daughter Maria Lucia was studying beauty courses as there was a huge market for unlicensed but cheap beauty services in the Mexican immigrant communities. It was a good way to hustle money


 Meghana agreed to receive a full makeover free of charge although Steve slipped a twenty to cover her material cost. She harboured a silent apprehension about how her husband Prasad would react, as he never allowed her  on luxuries like salon services. But she no longer cared about him as she wants to look radiant for Stever


 What followed was a marathon six-hour beauty session. It started with a relaxing facial meticulously done by Maria, who projected an expertise beyond her years. Next came the hair cut, a simple yet chic style that framed her face perfectly. 


As the day wore on, Meghana made a bold decision – she decided to get a full-body wax and most dauntingly, a bikini wax.. He remembered how Travis called her muff as Osama Bin Laden. She also wanted to surprise Steve, not her husband.


Now adorned in a simple red chiffon saree, her transformation was complete. The simple piece of attire had taken on a designer’s aura, accentuating her newfound grace. 

When Prasad  arrived home that evening, his wide-eyed gaze met with a stunning Meghna, her beauty enhanced by an expansive beauty treatment. But, the sight which was supposed to bring joy to Prasad's heart only made him nervous. 


This time what worried Prasad more was the corporate party they were to attend in the evening. The party was hosted by his company, and he knew all too well it was swarming with men who had a crush on Meghna. But no one was more afraid of than his CEO-Mr. Khan.

[madiha.agarwal]

Rumours about Mr. Khan's taste for beautiful women circulated the company, fuelling Prasad's fear. He had always kept Meghna hidden from the piercing gaze of his CEO. But the upcoming party gave him no room to keep her concealed. He found himself in the corners of dilemma and fear, looking for an excuse to skip the event. But there was none he could find. Attending the party was mandatory, and there was no way out for Prasad. 


Meghna had always been a little self-conscious about her clothing choices, which had been limited due to her husband's tight budget. She had never owned any partywear, and her simple red chiffon saree was the best she could manage.


Upon reaching the venue, she immediately noticed Prasad's boss, Khan. A man of impeccable taste and power, he had the audacity to turn heads wherever he went. Smiling politely, she greeted him and then quietly slipped away into the female section to join the other wives. 


Meghna found comfort and camaraderie among these women. They shared stories and the occasional gossip about their husbands and their antics. It was a breath of fresh air for her; these simple yet meaningful connections she made greatly contrasted from her usual lonely days at home.


Khan called his friends Bilal and Usman. Although in their 40s,they were ogling and rating the women like some teenagers. Khan had already eyed his prize and he instructed Bilal and Usman to be part of his scheme. They circled Prasad and for the first time in five years, praised his work ethic. With devilish smiles, they teased Prasad about his drinking prowess, or the purported lack thereof. Challenged and somewhat tipsy, the obedient employee gave into the pressure and began drinking heavily. Khan then slipped away from the crowd, leaving his friends to ensure Prasad remained occupied. 


Khan had noticed Meghna, her simplicity and grace struck him. Ignoring the irrelevant imaginings of his friends, he was intrigued more by her depth than her physical beauty. 
He wanted to talk to her, to understand her and maybe, if things fell into place, bring some relieving happiness into her monotonous life.


 With a glass of champagne in his hands, he walked over to the female section. He had a charm, an affable ease that made even this invasion appear gentlemanly. Joining the ladies, Khan engaged them in lighthearted banter, making sure to include Meghna in every conversation. While Meghna enjoyed the attention, she knew to tread the line between proprietary and familiarity. 


 Soon Khan left the female section consisting of cooing ladies. He attempted to maintain an air of casual indifference as he strolled back towards the main party area. 


"What an interesting man," giggled Riddhi, Meghna's friend. Her eyes followed Khan's retreating form through the crowd. 


"Did you notice, Meghna? He was trying so hard to appear nonchalant, but his gaze was fixed on you the entire time." 


Meghna flicked her narrow gaze at Riddhi, quickly dismissing the notion. "Please! He might charm the rest, Riddhi, but he's not my type. I've no intention of entertaining his attention," she said firmly. 


But hidden in her words was the flicker of a curiosity tinged with alarm. An unexpected absence caught her attention: her husband. Where was he? Unbeknownst to Meghna, her husband was being cautiously led into an upstairs room by Bilal .


Meghna's husband, lured by the promise of exquisite single malts, found himself drinking heavily with Bilal, each glass he raised making his vision blur a little more, his mind foggy. This was part of a well-woven plot. Their aim was clear: to incapacitate him and to leave Meghna alone and in need of help. 


It had been a long night of socializing and celebrations. The night air was thick with the intoxicating appeal of the unknown. As the party crowd slowly began to dwindle, people slipped away quietly into the night hand-in-hand with their loved ones. The leftover champagne bubbles lay stagnant in their abandoned glasses. 


The laughter that once echoed across the ceiling dropped to a hush, leaving behind an ominous silence. In the crowd of disappearing people was Meghna. Her laughter had silenced and the smile was replaced with worry lines. Her eyes, once sparkling with thrill and joy, now made frantic searches for her husband, Prasad. She was waiting for him,, but he was nowhere to be found. As she watched her female friends leave with their husbands, a pang of envy pinched her heart. She felt abandoned. 


Khan imbibing whiskey from his glass played the silent observer, his keen eyes scanning the crowd; his gaze fell on Meghna. He could see the discomfort clouding her eyes, mirroring the anxiety in her restless movements. He observed, unruffled, while the tension grew as the last of her companions closed the doors behind them.


 Alone with a few drunk bachelors, who were oblivious to her predicament, she stood, her misery magnified by the contrast of her surroundings.  Khan approached her. 


"May I help you?" he asked, his tone a soothing balm to her frenzied nerves.


 "I'm looking for my husband," she replied, her voice shaky with pent-up distress. At that moment, the man himself, Prasad, tottered out of a hidden corridor, allowed to leave his confinement by his captor Bilal. His walk was unstable, reflecting his inebriated state. He was a mess. 


"Can you drive?" Khan asked, focusing on Meghna who watched Prasad with a mixture of relief and anger.
 "No," she replied, her tone showing her resignation.


 "No worries," Khan offered, a gentlemanly gesture underneath the mocking gleam in his eyes. 


"I will drive you home." Meghna, although grateful, remained reluctant.


 "No, we will take an Uber," she countered. But Khan insisted, a stir of challenge kindling in his eyes. 


. "It's almost 12 am," Khan said, his voice steady. "Don't worry, I'll drive you." 

[abcturbine]

Wonderful....
Superb......
A small request... If you could continue your story titled 'two sisters..... ' it is awesome and densely erotic....

[Muralimm]

Welcome ??

[madiha.agarwal]

Wonderful....
Superb......
A small request... If you could continue your story titled 'two sisters..... ' it is awesome and densely erotic....

Thank you abcturbine but the story is over in terms of the content..It just ends with a threesome with the servant and I'm struggling to write a FMF threesome....I'd be happy if someone continues..

This is where the story ends when Dhondu enters the room and sees

[madiha.agarwal]

Meghna wasn't comfortable with the situation, but what choice did she have? With her husband stumbling around and a distance to cover back home, it felt like the only workable solution.

 Khan and his friend Bilal helped Prasad into the formidable black Jaguar while Meghna got into the front seat. Once the car had left the opulence of the gala venue, Khan turned towards Meghna, "Where's your address?" His commanding voice had a hint of curiosity, mixing business with a necessary act of kindness.

 "150, Martin Luther King Boulevard," she uttered nervously, anticipating his reaction. 

Khan let out a surprised laugh. "What? That's the east side of the city! Do you realise how dangerous that area can be during the night? Especially when a Jaguar enters - it spells trouble. I don't want to risk getting carjacked or mugged. Let's rest at my penthouse instead."

 Meghna knew the statistics all too well. She was often greeted by the echoes of gunshots, just as much part of her life as morning coffees. But staying at Khan's penthouse? She hesitated, weighing her options, before finally nodding. After all, the man was offering shelter on a perilous night. But she knew it might be a trap.

Meghna’s heart pounded against her chest like the thudding beat of an unsympathetic drum. Beneath the silver gleams of the high-tech garage's ceiling lights, Khan parked the sleek Jaguar in its rightful place.. As the engine's murmuring hum faded into silence, he turned to look at her, a sinister gleam in his eyes. "Meghna," he said in a low, persuasive tone, "leave your husband, Prasad. He’s passed out drunk. No need for him to be dragged along." 

Fear clawed up her throat, a real, tangible thing, but she hastily swallowed it down. She had no choice but to go along with Khan; it was, after all, his penthouse and his party. Nonetheless, Meghna felt a shiver of unease as they ascended the elevator to the impeccably decorated bachelor pad. Its sparse aesthetics, however modern, failed to mimic the comfort of a home. 

The penthouse boasted a massive home theatre, where a wall-to-wall screen monopolized one side of the room. Adjacent to it, an entire wall fitted with a display of a liquor cabinet shone under the subdued lights - room's grim ornaments that made her feel more uncomfortable. She found a spot on the plush black couch positioned away from Khan's viewing range. 

Khan, effortless and charming in his deadly allure, leaned against the opulent liquor cabinet. "We have time to spare," he declared smoothly. "Care for a drink, Meghna?" 

"No, thank you," Meghna replied, doing her utmost to hide her tremors beneath a calm exterior. Her mind was a battlefield of thoughts, the war between worry for her unconscious husband and her own safety prevailing.

 "Dont worry," Khan said, a predatory smile gracing his lips as he slid out a glass from the cabinet. "Your husband won't know. How about a margarita?" 

“No,” Meghna repeated, refraining from meeting his gaze. She remembered downing just a single glass of champagne during the party, her senses still perfectly clear and unimpaired. Khan had sent waiters to spy on her, she noted, clearly aiming to keep her at an optimum amount of inebriation - enough to be compliant, but not enough to be completely overcome by alcohol. 

. "Try this, this is tequila," he said with charisma, handing a shot glass to the woman beside him.. Meghna held her tiny glass tentatively, the smell of strong alcohol piercing her nose as she cringed. 

"Ewww, it's so strong!" she said, but Khan only laughed off her reaction. "You just need to down it in one go," he advised, lifting his glass.

 There was a touch of anticipation and impatience mingling with the good-humoured disguise on his face. They clinked their glasses together and, without waiting for a second, Khan downed his tequila. Taking a deep breath, Meghna followed suit, the fire in her throat and the unfamiliar steam in her stomach left her gasping.

 But, before she could recover, Khan had already handed her a margarita, a sweeter, more palatable drink. Meghna welcomed it with relief, the sugary taste removing the lingering bitterness of the tequila.

 "So tell me, Meghna, where are you from in India?" Khan’s question seemed innocuous, but his eyes snapped in predatory expectation. Oblivious, Meghna began unfolding her story. She told him of her childhood in the colourful small village in India, of the freedom and innocence and her subsequent marriage. 

As Khan nodded and smiled, there was a cold disinterest that belied his warm facade. He wasn't really interested in her story. His only interest was in the drowsiness that started to creep into Meghna’s eyes, a clear signal that the alcohol was starting to take effect. Patiently, Khan held his glass to his lips, waiting. He had set the stage and now, he was ready to make his move.

"How about a dance, Meghna? I'm sure you can tap your legs." 

Meghna hesitated, shaking her head, "No, I can't, Sir."

[Muralimm]

Sweet and eager to next update

[madiha.agarwal]

Meghna hesitated, shaking her head, "No, I can't, Sir."


 "Dont worry," he reassured, a playful smirk on his face as he tapped his phone, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker that permeated the room with soft whispers of music, "I have a collection of good Bollywood and Pakistani music." 


Suddenly, the upbeat rhythm of "Disco Deewane" started playing, filling the room with an infectious energy. Khan, with the grace of a panther, pulled Meghna to the dance floor, his hand securely placed on her hip while the other one captivated her hand. Meghna was surprised by the rapid turn of events, her heart racing with undefined emotions. Yet, she decided to play along, allowing herself to be captivated by the rhythm Khan was setting. 


"Isn't this the Student No 1 song?" Meghna asked, trying to place the familiar tune. 


"That's blasphemy," Khan retorted, taken aback by her ignorance. "This is from the queen Nazia."


 "Nazia who?" Meghna innocently asked. 


This evident ignorance regarding his teenage crush irked Khan, instilling a sense of irritation deep within him. However, he composed himself and kept his grumbling in check. The dance floor was his battlefield and he was playing to conquer, to lead her into his bed. His grip on Meghna tightened, sending a shiver down her spine.


 As Nazia's velvety voice echoed around them, they kept dancing, their bodies synchronizing with the rhythm, their eyes locked with intensity. Meghna might have been oblivious to the Pakistani queen's music, but was fully aware of Khan's compelling presence. 


 Soon, the rhythm changed, the thumping disco merging seamlessly into slow romantic melodies filled with double entendres. The flirty beats over, the music turned soulful now. The lyrics were deeply sensuous, yet wrapped in a veneer of sweet romance that lent them a mysterious allure. 


Khan pulled Meghna closer, their bodies map against the other. His hands traced the line of her bare waist beneath her saree, sending ripples of excitement coursing through her body. Her breath hitched as he drew her even closer, her left breast pressing against his chest. His face was merely inches from hers, their proximity clouding Meghna's judgement. 


Khan could see his reflection in Meghna's eyes, the intensity of their closeness reflected back at him. Those dark orbs of hers bloomed in excitement, matching his own escalating heartbeats. Craving the softness he saw in her, he cupped her face tenderly, leaning in to steal a taste of her sweetness. Under the spell of the music and the magic of the moment, Meghna closed her eyes, yet her body remained alive, every inch reminding her of his presence. 


Their lips met, a delicate dance commencing between them, choreographed to the luxuriously amorous tune playing on the home theatre. At first, Meghna's lips were still, a silent reservoir of desire waiting to be provoked. Khan, however, was patient, his teasing find their mark, guiding her response. 


Slowly, Meghna succumbed to the temptation, her lips like petals unfolding in a beautiful rhythm with his. A wave of unexpected pleasure crashed over her, silencing the world around them. The music, their dancing bodies, that magical night, all culminating into this one fiery moment. 


As they began to kiss, Khan's hands started moving down, tracing the maze of her curves. He cupped her buttocks, lingering there in audacity. Meghna was practically swept off her feet, her instincts taking over as she locked her knees around his waist. In a slow, deliberate motion, their longing leading the way, 


Khan began to carry her towards their bedroom. Their lips remained intertwined.. Khan's toe stubbed at the edge of the bed. The clumsy collision sent him tumbling, causing Meghna to land awkwardly on the plush carpet beneath them. 


The fall seemed to jar her out of the heated fog of passion. In the midst of her disarray, a realisation dawned upon her. She had been in the embrace of her husband's boss, all while Prasad, her husband, lied unconscious somewhere in the garage

Meghna's heart pounded like a frantic drum inside her chest, echoing in the silent room. Khan, with twinkling, mischievous eyes, reached out to lift her. 


"No!" cried Meghna, protesting his intentions. 

"It's okay, dear," he whispered into her ear, his hot breath prickling her skin. "The night just started. Let's have fun." 


Meghna’s eyes widened in horror, and she pulled away from him. "No, it's wrong," she argued.. He attempted to silence her with a kiss, but she pushed him back. "My husband is in the garage," she explained desperately, her voice barely above a whisper. 


Khan gave her a devilish smirk. "Don’t worry; he will be out for a while due to the amount of alcohol," he dismissed her concerns l. She couldn’t believe what he was suggesting.


 "No, I cannot cheat on my husband," she affirmed

[madiha.agarwal]

 "No, I cannot cheat on my husband," she affirmed, shaking her head vehemently. Enveloped by the sinister darkness, Khan stepped into her personal space once more. "It's okay, dear; he won’t know a word," he assured her, pulling her into a tight embrace. She tried to struggle, but his muscular arms were steadfast around her, trapping her in his unwanted hug. 


His lips brushed against her skin as he started to trail damp kisses down her neck.. Fear consumed her, her mind buzzing with panic. His tongue travelled to her earlobes as he continued to mark his disgusting traces on her.

“Stop it!” Meghna shouted suddenly, jerking away from Khan’s suffocating embrace.


With an anxious heart pounding against her chest, Meghna darted through the hall.Just then she felt an unexpected tug at her waist. Khan, having caught the trail of her saree, had cruelly yanked it off. Meghna gasped as her saree uncoiled from her body like a python, circling her bare feet in a cascade of silk. In that humiliating moment, stars exploded behind her eyes and she stumbled on the floor.



Horror-stricken, Meghna instinctually hugged herself, her arms clamping around her middle to hide the obvious vulnerability of her blouse-clad torso. A low chuckle reverberated in the room, and she looked up, petrified, at the face of her tormentor. Nonchalantly, he hoisted her up and tossed her onto the bed, as if she was nothing more than a doll.

 Meghna was cornered by a predator The scene seemed to have jumped directly from one of those Nature documentaries in Nat Geo- the predator preparing for its kill. Khan was toying with his prey like a fox teasing a hare before the final blow. An uncanny silence hung over the room as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation of the impending horror. 

Abruptly, the predatory dance began. Khan launched onto the bed with an agility that could put a jungle cat to shame, swiftly getting his catch where he wanted her. A lot of men make a haste in these situations, caused by their overzealous instincts, ending up not just physically injuring the women but also leaving a tragic trail of bang and assault cases behind. But Khan... Khan was different. His approach bore a terrifying resemblance to those killer beasts stalking their prey on African plains. His approach was methodical, calculated.



Khan lifted Meghna's petticoat, exposing her vulnerability. He could see her panties were slightly wet. He pulled them so hard that they got torn and was briefly surprised. Meghna had a completely bald pussy unlike other desi women who either leave a muff or just trim there. Since she had waxed it only in the morning,they literally shone. Meghna immediately closed her eyes as he was seeing what should be a surprise gift to Steve.

He opened the pussy lips and then started assaulting Meghna;s sin hole with his mouth.He held both her legs tightly with her hands leaving her no chance to escape. He proceeded to french kiss her other lips and slowly inserted his tongue inside her. Like those lions on the plains, straight for the neck, lethal,he proceeded to attack her pussy instead of tearing her clothes like the villains in 80s Bollywood movies do.

 Meghna was lost in her predicament, her resistance weakening. At first, the struggle was intense, fiercely gripping the bed sheet beneath her to find a shred of control in her dire situation. She thrashed, she squirmed, but the grip of this predatory man was unrelenting, his audacious invasion persistent. He wouldn't back down until she had no energy left to fight. 

“His tongue isnt great.Steve has a bigger one. Come out of the trance Meghna . Kick it out” Her inner voice were shouting at her but her body was responding to the cunnilingus performed by Khan.

But then his tongue touched the roof of her vagina hitting right at the G Spot sending a wave of pleasure all over her body. Oh god,this guy knows exactly what to do and its breaking her resolve. Her legs had stopped thrashing which was useless nevertheless as his hands held it so firmly.

In those moments Meghna fought her battle, nature unfolded its age-old drama in an eerily magnificent tableau. This ghastly spectacle, as bleak as it was, reflected a grim narrative right out of a roiling savannah on a National Geographic episode, minus the calm comfort of Sir Richard Attenborough  narrating the ordeal.

[madiha.agarwal]

This was a different horror, real, raw, and undeniably petrifying. Khan continued his beastly exploits until Meghna's resolve abandoned her. Once fierce and sporadic, her struggles gradually subsided, her body giving in to the pleasure it had borne. Just like the helpless gazelle finally accepting defeat under the unyielding jaws of the lion king. The powerful predator had convincingly bested his prey, breaking her spirit.


Khan could see that she was mentally wrestling with herself; a whirlwind of emotions swept across her face betraying her inner turmoil. He sensed her resignation and her surrender even before she did. In her soft moans, he heard the symphony of a woman succumbing, the protagonist of a tale as old as time.

Being a man of the world, Khan knew the ways of his prey. The desi women, bound by the shackles of Indian male patriarchy they followed stringently, were the ones he found to be the most satisfying conquests. Their ignorance about their own bodies was but a symptom of their societal upbringing. They had been taught to covet their chastity for their husbands and to feel betrayal upon seeking pleasure from outside their matrimonial bond.

Yet, bodies are wired for desire. Pleasure is a language that transcends the boundaries of virtue and vice, creating a blinding haze of raw lust. The bodies of these women, repressed and misunderstood, reacted naturally to the stimuli that Khan wove around them, trapped in the sticky cobwebs of his desires. Their bodies were their own but were forever framed within the structures of patriarchy.

It was this weakness that Khan daringly exploited. It was the basis of his plan, the cornerstone of his conquest. He knew the importance of foreplay, the power it wielded to leave these women torn between guilt and pleasure. He took his time, stretching each moment into a tantalising eternity, coiling them up in cycles of desire and regret. It was a slow dance, a dangerous ballet of body against body, desire against morality.

By the end of it, Khan had the women begging for release, hostages to their own bodies. As time stretched on towards infinity, her surrender became more real, more profound. It was a tacit admission that she was his; not just physically, but mentally as well.

In this teetering moment, Khan revelled in his conquest. The challenge of turning the ever-chaste and dutiful desi women into willing, even hungering, participants was a high like no other. Once they succumbed to his deliberate temptations, their bodies now demanding his touch, Khan could taste victory. It was sweet, intoxicating, and utterly destructive. In the depths of their pleasure, he found his own.

As Meghna felt the waves of pleasure coursing through her body, there was a persistent thought sitting in the corner of her mind. Why hadn't Khan made any move at all? The mixed sensations of ecstasy and confusion left her in a strange limbo, bordering on the brink of climax yet restrained by her unsettling thoughts.

Travis had been all over her in minutes, dominating every square inch of her being with an uncontainable desire. The memories of Travis forcing himself on her sent a shudder of discomfort down Meghna's spine. On the other hand, Khan was vastly different. Almost fifteen minutes in, and he hadn't shown any sign of stopping his oral explorations. And all this without even seeking Meghna's explicit consent! She thought with a blush. Is he testing her patience? Is he trying to drive her desire to the edge and over? She pondered, as she felt herself being drawn in by the dichotomy of Khan's actions. Each passing minute was making her thoughts more difficult to keep together. Was this a sign of a different approach making her beg for further action?"

As her climax approached, Meghna finally let go of all her thoughts, succumbing to the pleasure. She no longer needed answers. She wanted to cum.

As their bodies intertwined in a graceful yet torrid dance of desire and allure, Meghna's moans formed a beautiful symphony with the feral rhythm of their passionate encounter. With each passing second, the crescendo of her pleasure heightened, indicating the inevitable climax. She was, without a doubt, on the verge of an explosive culmination, a realm Khan had painstakingly brought his past conquests close to, only to pull them back from the precipice.

However, tonight was different. Meghna wasn't just another conquest. There was something about her that made Khan's heart thump wildly, his blood run hot with desire, making it impossible for him to halt their feverish dance. Her innocence, combined with aroused sensuality, was like a moth flame he was irresistibly drawn to. Khan yearned, for the first time perhaps, to witness the most glorious spectacle - an absolute surrender of his partner's senses. His tongue continued to explore her, fueling her flaming desires rather than extinguishing them. This was a game he'd been playing for years, but Meghna was the first to see him defy the rules - rules that he himself had laid out - and surrender to an intense, unprecedented pleasure.

Meghna's pleasure erupted in the most spectacular way, throwing him back with the force of her release. He watched, awe-struck, as her breath hitched, her body shuddering with waves of the powerful climax ravaging her senses, as though her brain was set alight by the spectacularly pyrotechnic encounter. Silence fell over them in the aftermath of their fiery rendezvous.

[sri7869]

Nice update continue story

[madiha.agarwal]

As Meghna was trying to collect her breath back from the most amazing oral encounter and analyse the situation, Khan had already removed his pants and underwear. He nonchalantly rolled her off and pulled her hips up. Meghna knew what he wanted and positioned herself in doggy position. Khan kept rubbing his penis at the entrance of her vagina, teasing her as his tip was collecting the wetness. This was a game he often played with his partners, to make them feel more helpless and dependent on him.


Meghna waited for a couple of minutes, hoping he might insert, but realised that he was just trying to play with her and then shouted back, "Daalna he to daal bhosdike, nakhre mat kar!"

Khan lost all the blood in his veins. By this time, all the women he conquered were much more docile and never put up a fight. But Meghna was the first woman who realised his plan and literally dared him to fuck her. He knew nothing could come from teasing anymore, and in order to save face, he needed to insert himself into her pussy.

"Wow," he exclaimed as his cock easily slid into the already wet pussy.

Meghna could barely contain her excitement, allowing her to enjoy every inch of his long and thick cock as it went into her pussy. He was amazed how tight she was for the first time he made it inside. He also noticed Meghna wanted to scream because she was so damn wet. He smiled as his hands reached her massive asscheeks and caressed them while pulling her body towards him.

With his free hand, he managed to grab her tits and squeeze them. Meghna gasped as he gave her another squeeze, then whispered in her ear, "Now... be a good nari and show me how much of a slut you really are."

While at the party, Khan remembered eyeing Meghna's body. Even though she was wearing a chiffon saree, it clung to every curve of her body, making her look extraordinarily sexy. He knew a lot of guys were making excuses to get an eye on her. Her breasts weren't massive but they complimented her thin waist and shapely hips. Khan wanted to see how they looked inside her blouse. If he didn't make a move, he might never see them.

Khan bent down and embraced her from the back but he was rapidly removing the hooks of her blouse, fingers grazing her bare skin unhurriedly and yet with an unsettling efficiency. A shiver of trepidation surged through her as she considered the potential aftermath. But as she lay there, vulnerable under Khan's dexterous hands, she didn't resist. After all, he might end up tearing the blouse. And what excuse could she offer to justify such an incident to her husband?

Once the final hook came undone, Meghna felt a sudden pinch on her back, snapping her out of her trance. Khan had unclipped her bra with a single, fluid stroke. Meghna felt a sense of relief easing the tightness around her chest, but the way Khan had effortlessly unclasped her bra left her stunned. Prasad would have struggled with such a task for all eternity.

Khan quickly bent down and pushed her bra down. Now his hands were cupping her soft but firm breasts which completely filled them. He kept squeezing them like a lorry horn while his cock was ramming into her pussy. Meghna kept moaning as he kept squeezing her breasts indicating that she liked this rough treatment. His fingers traversed around her nipples and then kept feeling it like a blind man reading braille. Without any warning he pinched them between his thumb and index fingers and twisted them sharply, making Meghna wince.

Meghna was trying to process both the pleasure from Khan's penis on her pussy and the pain he was inflicting on her breasts. She never realised she would love such rough sex which included pleasure and pain.