Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[fuckandforget]

Super

[K MD THABREZ]

Witting next update bro

[Ajay Kailash]

Great going

[xboard1986]

Plz update

[Vinty03]

Update pls

[a2011]

plz update

[Urupudathavan]

Afrah has turn obsessive of vishal dick.

[Zoz34]

Sohail pov:


Sohail's heart fluttered as he read the 

message on his phone.  

"I like you so much"

Afrah had sent it.  

Since their confrontation, their heart-to-heart talk, and that kiss—everything had changed. It was like a switch had flipped between them. Afrah had been constantly messaging him, even flirting with him. And he? He had been flirting back, sometimes even getting a little naughty. It was a new side of her, one that made him feel thrilled.

 The wedding was getting closer, and his doubts? They seemed foolish now. She wasn’t having an affair. She was just shy, but now she was finally opening up to him.  

Last night, their conversation had taken a very unexpected turn.  

Afrah: How did you feel seeing me like that the other evening?

Sohail had frozen for a moment, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. It was a bold question.  

Before he could reply, another message popped up.  

Afrah: Was the scene arousing? Were you thinking that you were the one giving me pleasure?

He never thought her to be that bold
And then he decided—if she was being bold, so would he.  

Sohail: I was so hard.

Afrah: What was hard?

Sohail: You know.

Afrah: I don’t know. 

Sohail: don't be so innocent now.,i have seen you playing 

Afrah: playing?

Sohail: Don't be so coy 

Afrah: Do you find me sexy?



Sohail:You know I do.  

A few seconds later, her response came.  

Afrah: you are the first man to compliment me.

He felt so proud.



Sohail:you are the most beautiful girl I have seen in my entire life.

Afrah:Hmm… still not convincing enough. Tell me exactly you like about me?



Sohail:Your eyes… the way you look at me when you’re shy but still trying to be bold.

Afrah:Mmm… what else?

Sohail:Your lips. Especially after our first kiss. I can’t stop thinking about them.

Afrah:And?

His body heated up. She wasn’t going to stop pushing, was she? Fine. If she wanted to play, he would play.  

Sohail:Your curves. You have very sexy figure 

There was a pause. He wondered if he’d gone too far. But then—  

Afrah: really?

His chest tightened. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating whether he should actually say it. But at this point, there was no turning back.  

Sohail:I wants you to feel your body, 

Another pause. Then—  

Afrah:and?

He swallowed hard.  

Sohail: do naughty things to you.

Afrah: you will only get to touch me after marriage.

His cock twitched. His breathing turned shallow.  



Sohail:
Afrah, please send me a picture na… I want to see you.

Afrah:Hmm? And what exactly will you do with my picture?

Sohail:Just admire your beauty, bas.

Afrah:Oh, I know how men are…

Sohail:And how exactly are we?

Afrah:Perverts.

Sohail:Maybe. But can you blame me? You have no idea how incredibly sexy your figure is. 

 
A notification popped up. Image received.His heart pounded as he opened it.

As he opened the image, his breath hitched. It was a simple picture—Afrah in a modest salwar suit—yet the way it was captured made his heart race. The soft fabric clung to her curves, accentuating the shape of her breasts. A subtle hint of cleavage peeked through, just enough to tease, just enough to drive him crazy.  
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
His grip on the phone tightened. His body reacted instantly
, heat pooling low in his stomach. She was his. Soon, she would belong only to him. The thought made him very happy.


Vishal’s POV:-

Vishal phone pings.
It was from Afrah 


Her teasing had reached unbearable levels. Every time he saw her, he was hard. In the office, she never let an opportunity slip—arching her back just enough to give him a perfect view of her ass, adjusting her dupatta to flash a tempting hint of cleavage, biting her lip as if daring him to lose control.  

 She had given him four handjobs in the last two weeks—always initiated by her—but she refused to go all the way. It was as if she enjoyed keeping him on edge, knowing how much he wanted her, yet denying him the full taste of her body.  

This morning had been no different. Her texts had been sinful, filled with teasing words that made him ache with need.  

In office 

She sat beside him in the conference room, the air thick with professionalism—at least on the surface. But under the table, hidden from prying eyes, her fingers made their move.  

Slowly, deliberately, she grazed her hand over his crotch, feeling the heat and hardness beneath his trousers. He stiffened, his fingers clenching against the table as he fought to keep his composure.  

A low, barely audible groan escaped his lips.  

Her touch didn’t waver, her palm pressing firmer, fingers teasing the shape of his thick length through the fabric. He shifted in his seat, pretending to adjust his posture, but the truth was, he was struggling—not just to stay still, but to maintain his focus while she tortured him with slow, calculated strokes.  

The meeting dragged on, discussions fading into background noise. His breathing grew heavier, his jaw clenched. She never looked at him, never acknowledged what she was doing—just kept up the relentless, torturous game.  

By the time the conference ended, his body was taut with unreleased tension. She slid her hand away, leaving him aching, throbbing, on the very edge.  

Then, without a word, she gathered her things and walked out, leaving him there—hard, frustrated, desperate for more.  

She was going home.  

And she damn well knew he’d be horny 








Back in the Present:

Vishal sat in his room, watching the new video she had sent. It was a trending reel on Instagram, something racy and seductive. But what caught his attention wasn’t the song or the filter—it was her.  

She had her navel exposed, knowing full well that was his weakness. Her waist was perfect—curvy, smooth, the color of warm honey. A little bit of softness that jiggled slightly with each movement, just enough to make his imagination run wild.  [img]<a href=[/img]" />

The way she arched slightly, letting the camera catch the glint of her navel piercing, the way she ran a hand down her own stomach—she was playing with him. Taunting him. And fuck, it was working.


He remembered how her stomach had looked that night, glistening with his thick, potent release. The sight of her skin covered in his e
 Cum. 

Back to the video—she was shaking her ass now, her movements deliberate, taunting.  

His jaw clenched.  

This little minx needed to be punished.  

Sohail pov:

Sohail was standing by a small roadside tea stall, about two kilometers from Afrah’s house, casually smoking a cigarette. It was supposed to be a quick stop, just a break before heading to his next errand. But his ears caught something—voices dripping with filth, laughter laced with lust.  

His eyes flickered toward the group of young men loitering near a street corner, their gazes predatory, scanning every woman that passed by.  

Boy 1:"Samad, dekh na, kya maal ja rahi hai! Figure ekdum top-notch, kadak!"(Samad, just look at her! What a bombshell! Her figure is absolutely top-notch, sizzling hot!")








Samad:"Haan yaar, dekh kaise chal rahi hai… gaand ekdum perfect matka rahi hai."("Yeah, man, just look at the way she's walking… her ass is perfectly round and swaying beautifully)

Instinctively, Sohail’s gaze followed theirs. A woman in a fitted salwar kameez—curvy, around 30—walked past them. Sohail looked away in disgust, exhaling a sharp breath.  

Boy 3:"Uff, saali ki gaand toh football ki tarah gol hai, ek dum tight!"("Damn, her ass is round like a football, absolutely tight)

Samad:"Lekin jo bhi bolo, sabse kadak maal apne mohalle ki Afrah hai!"("But no matter what, the hottest chick in our neighborhood is Afrah!")










Sohail froze mid-puff. His fiancée’s name slithered out of Samad’s mouth like poison, instantly tightening his grip on the cigarette. A sharp sting on his fingers reminded him he was holding it too hard.  

Boy 2:"Haan yaar, ekdum zabardast! Malai jaisa badan, upar se killer figure. Jaise uski gaand, waise hi uske boobs!"(Yeah, man, she's absolutely insane! Smooth as cream, and that killer figure—her ass is just as perfect as her tits)


Boy 3:"Suna hai nikah hone wali hai. Jo bhi hai, bada lucky hai uska mard. Soch, bhai… har raat uske saath khelne ka mauka milega!"("I heard she's getting married soon. Whoever her man is, he's one lucky bastard. Just imagine, bro… getting to play with her every night!")

Samad:"Saala, agar main uska pati hota na, ghar se hi na nikalta! Roz, subah-shaam usko bajata!"(Man, if I were her husband, I’d never leave the house! I’d be smashing her morning and night)


A sickening churn twisted in Sohail’s gut.  

Boy 1:"Bhai, woh meri sapno ki rani hai! Pata nahi kitni baar uske bare mein soch ke… tu samajh raha hai na?" Bas kal hi dekha tha usko, saali ekdum latke-jhatke maar rahi thi, jaise jaan ke chhed rahi ho!"(Bro, she's the queen of my dreams! I can't even count how many times I've thought about her like that... you know what I mean?" He chuckled darkly. "Just saw her yesterday—damn, she was swaying those curves like she was teasing on purpose!")

Boy 2:"Haan yaar! Aur kuch din pehle main uske ghar ke paas se guzar raha tha, tabhi woh balcony mein dikh gayi. Jab jhuki na, kuch uthane ke liye… bhai, maine uska cleavage dekha!" He whistled low. "Gora, malai-dar, ekdum doodh se bhara hua! Kya nazara tha"(Yeah, man! A few days ago, I was passing by her house, and I saw her standing on the balcony. And when she bent down to pick something up… bro, I got a full view of her cleavage!" He whistled low. "Fair, creamy, and full like a pair of milk jugs! What a sight!")

Sohail’s breathing grew unsteady. His fists clenched at his sides.  

Samad:"Mujhe toh uska Instagram dekh ke hi muth marne ka mann karta hai! Jo makeup wale reels banati hai na, bas unpe hi…"(Just looking at her Instagram makes me want to jerk off! Those makeup reels she posts… man, that’s all I need!")

A flash of red clouded Sohail’s vision. His stomach twisted in disgust, in rage, in something far worse—doubt.  

Boy 2:"Jo bhi ho, uska seal khulna toh uske pati ke naseeb mein likha hai."(Whatever it is, breaking her seal is written in her husband's fate.")

Samad:"Saale, itna chutiya mat ban! Aisi figure bina kisi ladke ke bina nahi banti. Dekha hai uske boobs ,lagta hai Roz kissi se masalwati hia, aur gand ka kya khena,Pakka koi college ka ya office ka banda hoga jo usko chodh chuka hai ya abhi bhi chodh raha hai!,("Bro, don’t be such a fool! A body like that doesn’t come without a man in the picture. Have you seen her tits? Looks like someone’s been squeezing them regularly. And that ass? No doubt some guy from her college or office has already fucked her—or is still fucking her!)

A lump formed in Sohail’s throat. His fingers twitched as if craving violence.  

Boy 1:"Haan yaar, ya toh koi college wala ex, ya phir office ka boss!" (Yeah, man, either some college ex or maybe even her boss at work!")

Samad:"Ho sakta hai! Waise bhi, office mein yeh sab aam baat hai. Pata nahi kitne log uske saath…"(Could be! Anyway, this stuff is pretty common in offices. Who knows how many guys have had their turn with her...")

Their voices trailed off, now shifting their dirty attention toward another girl in tight jeans.  

But their words had already sunk deep into Sohail’s mind.  

His heart pounded violently in his chest. His body felt cold despite the heat of the evening air.  

Afrah. His Afrah.  




Sohail gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as his mind spiraled. For the past week, he had been on cloud nine—Afrah kissing him, their naughty late-night chats, the way she whispered his name with longing. It felt real. It felt perfect.  

But now, those insecurities that had been buried under her sweet words came crawling back.  

Did she chat with others the same way? Did she laugh at their texts like she did with his?  

Vishal a name, still hunting him.

The thought made his stomach twist unpleasantly.  

His thoughts screeched to a halt as his eyes locked onto a familiar figure in the crowded marketplace. Vishal.

Sohail’s pulse spiked.  

But that wasn’t what made his breath hitch. Beside Vishal was a woman clad in a full black burkha, her face completely covered.

His heart stopped for a moment. A cold, unsettling wave washed over him.  

Who was she?  

His mind screamed a possibility he didn’t want to acknowledge.  

Afrah?  

No. It couldn’t be.  

Before he could think, Sohail pulled over, hurriedly parking the car. His eyes darted back to the spot where he had seen them.  

But Vishal was gone.  

The woman in the burkha was nowhere to be seen either.  

His breath came in short, shallow bursts as he scanned the crowd, hoping—dreading—to catch another glimpse.  

Nothing.  

Had he imagined it? Or had they disappeared on purpose?  

His heart pounded violently in his chest.  



Afrah’s POV

4 PM. The metro rumbled beneath her, the faint vibrations doing little to calm the storm inside her.  

Stupid bet.

She should have known Vishal had something dirty in mind when she agreed. Now, she was sitting near the window, her body fully wrapped in a burkha—but underneath, she was completely naked.

Her heart pounded. Across from her, Vishal leaned against the pole, arms crossed, smirking like the devil himself.  

Of course, he was enjoying this. He was the only one who knew her secret.

Her phone vibrated in her lap.  

Vishal:Your nipples are hard.

A jolt ran through her. Her arms instinctively crossed over her chest as she shifted slightly on the seat.  

Another message.  

Vishal:Look at that uncle sitting near the door. He’s staring. He knows.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes flickered toward the door, where an older man sat, his gaze lingering just a little too long on her chest.  

She clenched the edges of her burkha.  

Afrah:You’re responsible for this.

Vishal:Oh, don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it.  

Her thighs pressed together.  

Vishal:See those two college boys sitting diagonally across from you? They haven’t stopped staring since you got on. I bet they’ll jerk off tonight thinking about you.

Heat pooled in her stomach. She risked a glance—and sure enough, the boys were whispering, their gazes fixated on her body.  

She shifted uncomfortably, her bare thighs rubbing against the cool seat beneath her.  


Vishal:Get off at the next station.

She swallowed.  


She got out of the metro train, Vishal was now beside her. Though her body was fully covered, she noticed the way some men were ogling at her, their eyes shamelessly drinking in her figure. The loose black fabric, meant to hide, did the exact opposite—it only highlighted the fullness of her breasts and the roundness of her hips as it swayed with each step. With every movement, her curves jiggled under the modest attire, making it impossible for them to look away.


They went to a nearby café. It was mostly empty, the soft hum of the air conditioner filling the silence. Afrah removed her face cover, letting out a sigh as she leaned back in the chair.  

Afrah: "Why did you make me wear a burkha? What’s the game here?"  

Vishal smirked, leaning forward on the table, his eyes dark with mischief.  

Vishal: "Think from a male perspective. Think from my POV."  

Afrah: "You have a filthy mind. You’ve made me do all sorts of dirty things before—things that usually involve shorter dresses, not being covered head to toe."  

Vishal chuckled.  

Vishal: "Do you want me to strip naked instead? Because I would love to."  

Afrah: "That’s not what I meant!"   

Vishal: "I just wanted to see you in this attire."  

Afrah narrowed her eyes.  

Afrah: "Oh, please. I know you too well. You definitely have some kind of burkha fantasy or fetish."  

Vishal: "A closed door always invites curiosity."  

Afrah: "The door is closed to divert attention."  

Vishal: "Exactly. And that’s what makes it irresistible. Men take the greatest pleasure in what they’re forbidden from having. Like you, right now—dressed so modestly, yet completely naked underneath. Roaming around the city with me, soaked in filth beneath all that purity."  

Afrah gasped, her cheeks heating.  

Afrah: "I am NOT wet."  

Vishal: "You’ve been clenching your thighs since we sat down."  

Afrah: "No, I haven’t!" she shot back, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her.  

Vishal’s hand slid under the table, pressing against her inner thigh, fingers teasingly close to her center. She stiffened, sucking in a breath.  

Afrah: "Vishal—"  

Vishal: "I know my dirty girl too well. Always needy for me."  

Before she could react, her phone buzzed. Dad. Her heart pounded as she picked it up, trying to sound normal.  

"Haan, … haan, busy hoon, baad mein baat karti hoon."  

She hung up quickly, exhaling.  

Vishal leaned in, his voice a taunting whisper.  

Vishal: "You’re enjoying it, aren’t you? The forbidden thrill. Lying to your father while you sit here, soaking, with me?"  

Afrah bit her lip. Heat coiled low in her stomach. 

The moment shattered when the waiter approached, clearing his throat. Afrah pulled away instantly, face flushed, her breath unsteady.  

Vishal leaned back in his chair, smirking.  

Vishal: "We’re not done yet."  


Vishal: "The waiter will definitely be thinking about the burkha beauty in his dreams tonight."  

Afrah scoffed, adjusting her veil slightly.  

Afrah: "Do people really fantasize about girls in burkhas? I mean, they can’t even see their faces."  

Vishal smirked, his fingers tapping against the table.  

Vishal: "You have no idea. Even if they can’t see the face, they imagine the body beneath the fabric. In their fantasies, they strip her down, piece by piece, imagining all the filthy things they’d do to her. A friend of mine in college once hooked up with a girl who wore a full niqab. Everyone thought she was the most modest girl on campus… but only he knew what she did for him in bed. The things she let him do, the fantasies she played out for him."  

Afrah swallowed, shifting slightly. Heat pooled between her thighs at the way he described it.  

Afrah: "So… you also fetishize girls who wear burkhas?"  

Vishal’s lips curled into a slow, teasing smile.  

Vishal: "Who wouldn’t? I’m so fucking hard right now just looking at you."  

Afrah: "So, what’s your fantasy, Mr. Pervert? Tell me what you imagine."  

Vishal leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. His voice dropped, thick with desire.  

Vishal: "I imagine you… wearing nothing but a veil. Your entire body naked. On your knees… your lips wrapped around my fat cock… slurping it, taking every inch…"  

He exhaled, his voice a husky growl.  

Vishal: "And then your pretty, slutty face covered in my baby batter."  

A shiver ran down Afrah’s spine. Her breath hitched, her thighs pressing together instinctively. The vivid image sent a fresh wave of wetness between her legs, a sinful need curling deep inside her.  

Afrah: "I will never…"  

Vishal chuckled, his fingers grazing her wrist.  

Vishal: "Don’t tell me you don’t think about my fat cock around your lips."  

Before she could answer, he leaned in and crashed his lips against hers. The kiss was hungry, demanding, making her toes curl as his tongue teased its way into her mouth.  






Around 6 PM, they were strolling through the park. The air was cool, the setting sun casting long shadows over the nearly empty space. They had already stolen a few kisses, Vishal’s hands daring to grope her breasts through the thick fabric of her attire.

As they were about to leave, Vishal suddenly grabbed her wrist and bent her over a wooden bench.  

Afrah gasped. "Vishal! What are you doing?"  

He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted the fabric of her burkha from her toes to her waist, exposing her bare ass to him in the open park. Her breath hitched, her heart hammering in both panic and arousal. Before she could protest, she felt something cool and smooth slipping inside her soaked pussy.  

Her body tensed. "Vishal…!"  

A sharp smack landed on her ass, making her gasp. He let the fabric fall back down, covering her once again, as if nothing had happened.  

Afrah spun around, her cheeks flushed, lips parting to demand an explanation—  

And then it hit.  

A sudden vibration deep inside her, sending a jolt of pleasure through her core.  

"Ahhh…!" A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.  

She clutched his arm. "Vishal… what did you put—"  

Before she could finish, the sound of footsteps approached.  

Her eyes widened in alarm.  

Vishal smirked, nudging her forward. "Walk."  

Still trembling from the sensation between her thighs, Afrah obeyed, each step making the vibrations intensify. Her legs felt weak as they made their way out of the park, her body betraying her with every pulse of pleasure.



She clutched the edge of her burkha tightly, her fingers trembling as she tried to suppress the pleasure coursing through her.  

"Vishal… please," she whispered, her voice desperate, her eyes pleading with him from across the metro cabin. "Turn it off… people are around…"  

Vishal smirked, tilting his phone slightly, his thumb lazily scrolling on the screen. "No."  

Her pussy clenched around the vibrating device, the slow, teasing pulses sending shivers up her spine. It wasn't enough to push her over the edge—just enough to drive her mad with need. Every step, every shift in her seat made the sensations even more unbearable.  

They entered the metro.

She sat with her legs tightly pressed together, hoping to muffle the throbbing pleasure, but it only made her wetter. Her breath hitched as she bit down on her lip, her gaze darting around the metro cabin. There were only a few passengers—three old men and some women, none of whom seemed to notice her torment. Yet.  

She thought she was safe.  

Then the metro stopped, and a woman took the seat beside her. At that exact moment, the vibrations surged.  

A muffled whimper escaped her lips.  

"Ahhh…" she gasped, quickly turning her head to the side.  

The woman beside her glanced at her for a second but then looked away. Afrah's entire body tensed. The waves of pleasure rippling through her were intense, but she couldn't afford to lose control.  

She clenched her thighs tighter, trying to suppress the throbbing ache between her legs. Her soaked pussy pulsed desperately, aching for release, but Vishal was playing a cruel game.  

Across from her, he was watching.  

She met his eyes, her lips slightly parted, her face flushed beneath the veil.

The vibrations intensified.  

Afrah's body jerked slightly, her hand gripping the seat. Her mind was clouded with pleasure, her nipples hard under the burkha, her pussy slick and needy.  

Fuck… this feels so fucking good…  

She swallowed hard, biting the inside of her cheek to keep another moan from slipping out. Her thighs trembled, her hands clenched into fists, her body warring between restraint and desire.  

She had never been in a situation where she had to fight an orgasm. Every time she got close before, she had embraced it, welcomed the waves of pleasure crashing over her.  

But now?  

Now, she was on a metro, surrounded by strangers, forced to hold back—forced to endure this wicked, delicious torment Vishal had trapped her in.  

And worst of all?  

She fucking loved it.

Her entire body trembled, her breath ragged as she clenched her thighs, desperate for release. The vibrator inside her pulsed relentlessly, drilling into her soaked, needy pussy, sending waves of unbearable pleasure through her body.  

She wanted nothing more than to slip her fingers under the fabric, to rub herself to completion, but she couldn’t—not here, not in public, with strangers just inches away.  

She was heaving, sweat slicking her skin beneath the burkha, her chest rising and falling as she teetered on the edge.  

She was so close.  

Then—suddenly—the vibrations stopped.  

“Ahhh—” she whimpered, frustration clear in her voice.  

She looked up, her wide, desperate eyes locking onto Vishal’s. He was watching her intently, a smirk playing on his lips, his fingers hovering over his phone screen.  

That bastard.  

He knew. He knew exactly when she was about to climax, knew the precise moment when her body was ready to explode—and he denied her.  

Afrah clenched her jaw, her body trembling as her pussy ached, throbbing, the denied orgasm making her even more desperate.  

The vibrator began pulsing again—slow, torturous waves of pleasure teasing her, winding her up all over again.  

She tried to stay still, but every pulse made her hips jerk slightly. Her fingers curled against her lap, nails digging into the fabric as she squirmed in her seat, helpless against his torment.  

Vishal was controlling her pleasure with just a swipe of his fingers.  

He was playing with her.  

Afrah groaned in frustration, her body begging for release, but she couldn’t do anything. She was trapped in this agonizing cycle of pleasure and denial, her pussy throbbing, her breath coming out in soft, needy pants.  

And worst of all?  

Vishal knew she loved it.



Afrah’s entire body quivered, her thighs clenching involuntarily as her soaked pussy throbbed around the unrelenting toy. She fought the sensation, fought her own body’s desperate craving for release—but deep down, she wanted Vishal to control her pleasure. She wanted him to tease her mercilessly, to keep her on edge, to revel in how utterly wrecked she was becoming under his control.  

But she needed to cum.  

Her eyes flickered to Vishal, her gaze dropping to his lap. Her breath hitched.  

He was hard

Painfully, achinglyhard, his thick cock straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be freed.  

He fucking loves this… she thought, swallowing hard as she watched his erection twitch beneath the material. The sheer size of him made her thighs press together, amplifying the already overwhelming sensations coursing through her.  

The vibrator surged again, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to her core.  

Afrah squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming out in shaky gasps as she built toward orgasm, not just from the relentless toy inside her but from the situation itself—the helplessness, the control, the way Vishal played her body like a wicked maestro.  

Her bindings—the weight of the burkha concealing her flushed, aroused state—only intensified her euphoria.  

She was so close, teetering on the brink, her entire body shuddering as she reached for the peak—  

Then it stopped.  

Again.  

A strangled mewl slipped from her lips before she could stop it.  

The woman beside her glanced at her, brow furrowed in mild concern.  

Afrah bit her lip hard, her nails digging into her palms, her face burning beneath the fabric.  

She needed release. She needed him to let her cum.  

She wanted to plead with Vishal, to beg him for mercy—but her pride wouldn’t let her.  

And deep down…  

She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stop.

She lost track of time, sinking into a trance-like state where her body moved and reacted on its own, completely at the mercy of the relentless, pulsing toy inside her. The world around her faded—nothing else mattered but the unbearable, torturous pleasure that Vishal controlled with a flick of his fingers. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her thighs trembling as sweat dampened her skin beneath the fabric of her burkha.  

She couldn’t fight it.  

She couldn’t escape it.  

Even if she wanted to.  

She had surrendered, given up control, transformed into nothing more than a trembling, desperate vessel for sensation. She was a beautiful, intricate piece of art—crafted not by paint or stone, but by sheer, mind-melting arousal.  

Vishal had taken over her entire body.  

He turned up the vibrations, making her jolt in her seat, her walls clenching around the unrelenting device as pleasure surged through her core, obliterating her thoughts, turning her into a quivering, pleasure-drunk sponge, soaking up every exquisite jolt of ecstasy.  

She was so close.  

Her body braced instinctively, muscles tightening, preparing to explode into the euphoric release she had been desperately chasing—  

Then—  

It stopped.  

Again.  

A strangled sob escaped her lips, her body trembling with need, her clit throbbing in frustration. But before she could even process the loss, Vishal turned it back on—higher, faster, dragging her helplessly back to the very edge of climax.  

Then he stopped.  

Again.  

And again.  

Over and over, pushing her higher, keeping her dangling on the precipice of orgasm, never letting her fall.  

Afrah’s head spun, her entire body locked in a state of exquisite agony, her thoughts melting into pure, unbearable *need*.  

She wanted to scream.  

She wanted to beg.  

But all she could do was suffer in silence, drowning in the devastating pleasure that he so cruelly controlled.


She knew—oh, she knew—that almost every man in the metro, and surely some women too, would do anything to see her stripped bare, writhing, lost in the ecstasy coursing through her trembling body. And yet, there she was, mere feet away from them, drowning in pleasure, her release just within reach—but still denied.  

No one had a clue.  

No one knew that beneath her modest layers, she was soaking, her inner thighs slick with arousal. No one knew that her boss—her merciless tormentor—was the one pulling the strings, playing her body like a finely tuned instrument.  

No one knew that she was about to cum right there in the middle of it all.  

But Vishal wasn’t going to let that happen.  

After what felt like an eternity of teasing—of edging her so close to breaking that she could taste her climax—her body was wrecked, her face flushed, her breath erratic, her legs trembling from the sheer desperation of being held on the precipice for so long.  

And then—  

The train slowed.  

Their stop had arrived.  

Vishal stood, adjusting his jacket like nothing had happened. Afrah could barely move, her legs weak, her body screaming for the release he had denied her over and over again.  

“Come,” he murmured.  

I already fucking would have if you let me,she wanted to scream.  

But instead, she obeyed, stepping out onto the platform—flushed, ruined, and desperate for whatever he had planned next.


The road was empty, the night settling in even though it was only 8 PM. They walked towards the parking lot where Vishal’s car was parked. The quiet hum of distant traffic barely reached them, the dim yellow glow of overhead lights casting long shadows.  

As soon as they reached his car, Vishal wasted no time. He grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and bent her over the car hood. The cool metal sent a shiver through her, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning inside her.  

With deliberate ease, he lifted her burkha up to her waist, exposing her bare, trembling thighs and soaked core to the night air. The contrast of her fair skin against the dark fabric made his mouth water. He knelt behind her, gripping her hips as he buried his face between her legs.  

His tongue pressed against her swollen clit, flicking and swirling, teasing the ache he had built inside her. Afrah let out a strangled moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pushed him closer. He devoured her like a man starved, his tongue slipping inside her, tasting every drop of the arousal he had drawn from her all evening.  

Slurping, sucking, tracing every sensitive nerve with expert precision—he worked her up until her legs were shaking, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. She didn’t care if anyone saw her. She didn’t care about anything except the pleasure he was giving her, the release she had been denied for so long.  

Her moans filled the empty parking lot, raw and uninhibited, as his tongue danced against her. She was close—so close. And Vishal knew it.


Gently, Vishal rubbed her clit, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles as her hips swayed unconsciously, matching the rhythm of his tongue. Afrah's grip tightened in his hair, feeling the slight bob of his head as he licked her, his lips sucking and kissing her sensitive flesh. Her body burned with need, every nerve alight with pleasure.

Her legs locked around his back, pulling him closer, as if she were possessed by raw desire. She thrust against his face, chasing the intoxicating friction of his mouth. Vishal responded with equal hunger, his tongue exploring her folds, teasing and tasting every inch.


Afrah was out of control, and judging by the way Vishal’s tongue furiously licked her, he was enjoying it just as much—if not more. She pressed harder against him, her body desperate for release, until that familiar pressure began to build deep inside her. Her insides clenched, bracing for the incoming wave, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as a moan tore from her throat.  

Her entire body trembled as the electric orgasm surged through her, radiating from her core to her limbs, until it finally settled in her mind, leaving her breathless. Her skin prickled, and she exhaled deeply, fully aware that Vishal wasn’t done with her yet.  

Hell, he was just getting started.  

He kept lapping at her, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath before teasing her clit with gentle, featherlight strokes. He knew how sensitive she was now, how every flick of his tongue sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her. But the moment she started moaning again, he returned to that vicious rhythm, relentless in his assault.  

Afrah bit her lip, her fingers gripping the hard edges of the car hood for support. Each time his tongue made contact, it was like a bolt of lightning striking her core, and she loved it.  

As her back arched, he slid a finger inside her, exploring her wet heat with deliberate, calculated movements. Her whole body twitched in pleasure, her thighs instinctively spreading wider as he pushed in another finger. He worked them in and out, thrusting with unrelenting intensity while his tongue continued its assault on her clit.  

Her jaw quivered, her body a live wire of sensation, muscles pulled taut like a bowstring stretched to its limit—on the verge of snapping into another mind-shattering release.


Afrah moaned his name, her voice dripping with desire and surrender. “Vishal…” It felt forbidden, yet intoxicating, a name she could whisper again and again and never grow tired of.  

"Vishal…" she gasped once more as her body convulsed, engulfed in the relentless flames of pleasure. She thrust her hips against his fingers, forcing him to bury them deep inside her, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. His name turned into a scream as the climax tore through her, thick beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, her hair sticking to her flushed skin.  

He placed a soft, lingering kiss against her trembling core before withdrawing his fingers, savoring the moment as he slowly stood. Towering over her, he leaned in, brushing a kiss against her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth. She could taste herself on his lips, and the realization sent another shiver of arousal through her. She loved it—loved how he wanted her, how he could never get enough of her body.  

After three devastating orgasms, her legs felt weak, trembling beneath her. Just as she was about to collapse, Vishal caught her, his strong arms steadying her, holding her upright as she melted against him.


She slowly slid off the hood of the car, her legs too weak to hold her up. As she crumpled to the ground, her breath still ragged, she turned her gaze back to Vishal—and her eyes widened.  

He already had his cock out.  

He was hard. Even harder than he have ever been. And somehow, impossibly, he looked even bigger. The sight of him sent another shudder of anticipation through her, her body still thrumming from the orgasms he had just wrung out of her.  

Apparently, when it came to Vishal, there were no limits.


She licked her lips, her gaze locked onto the glistening pearl of Vishal’s pre-cum trembling at the tip of his cock.  

His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, his foreskin gliding back and forth, revealing the slick, swollen head. It was mesmerizing—almost hypnotic.  

He brought himself closer, pressing the thick crown against her chin, deliberately avoiding her lips. Then, with a smirk, he dragged it along her cheek, smearing his arousal against her flushed skin.  

A sharp slap followed—his cock tapping against her face, each wet smack sending a jolt of heat through her body.

She gasp her eyes wide.

She bit her lower lip as her fingers traced the length of his cock. Moving slowly, she flattened her palm over his crotch, feeling the steady heat radiating from him. A pleasant warmth spread through her body as she felt the strong, rhythmic pulse of his shaft beneath her touch.  

Curling her fingers around his girth, she inhaled sharply, her heart tightening in her chest at the sheer thickness of him.  

Vishal took half a step forward, and the swollen tip of his cock bobbed against her lips, leaving a glistening string of pre-cum dangling between them.  

Instinctively, she licked her lips, tasting the salty nectar he offered.  

Her hand wrapped firmly around his thick base, her grip tightening as she brought her face closer. Maintaining eye contact, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the tip, her lips parting just enough to tease him with her breath.

Her lips parted wider, and she pressed another kiss to the tip before slowly enveloping it in the heat of her mouth. Kissing quickly turned into sucking, her lips wrapping around him as she closed her eyes and nursed at the swollen head of his cock.

She swirled her tongue around him, savoring the taste, and let out a soft hum, the vibration sending a shudder through his body.

Opening her mouth as wide as it would go, she took him in, her tongue gliding against his length as she licked and sucked up every drop of his pre-cum. There was so much—thick, salty, and intoxicating.

“Good girl,” Vishal groaned through clenched teeth, his voice rough with pleasure.

A rush of pride filled her at his praise, making her more eager to please.


She pulled his cock out of her mouth to catch her breath, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening tip.  

A rush of sensations surged through her as she met his heated gaze, her body responding instinctively. She dragged her tongue along the thick vein running down his shaft, starting from the base and moving upward in slow, teasing strokes. Pressing soft kisses along his length, she finally wrapped her lips around the head again, swirling her tongue over the sensitive tip.  

Her fingers trailed along his shaft, tracing every ridge and vein, before cupping his balls, rolling them gently in her palm.  

A thick bead of pre-cum oozed from his slit, coating her tongue with its sweet and salty taste—her favorite combination. She moaned softly, savoring it, and Vishal groaned in response, his hips bucking involuntarily. His need for her was undeniable.


She wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, closing her eyes as his raw taste consumed her senses. Without hesitation, she let her lips glide down his shaft, pushing herself to take him deeper, her throat stretching to accommodate his size.  

“Good girl,” Vishal murmured, amusement lacing his voice. “Seems like you know what you’re doing.”  

His grip on her head loosened, allowing her to pull back, gasping for air as his cock slid from her mouth. Her jaw ached from the effort, but she only grinned, desire burning in her eyes. She grasped his thick shaft, angling it downward before lunging forward, her mouth open wide as she welcomed him back onto her tongue.  

Wasting no time, she began bobbing her head, her lips gliding up and down his length, each movement drawing a groan from deep within him.


She moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan. “Ahhh, fucking hell. Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he growled, his fingers tangling in her hair. She pushed his cock in and out of her mouth, occasionally grazing the shaft lightly with her teeth, and the sharp intake of his breath told her just how much he liked it.

Releasing him with a wet pop, she watched as a thick bead of pre-cum dripped down his shaft. She eagerly licked it up, savoring every drop of his taste.

““You like having my fat cock in your lips while dressing so modestly?” Vishal murmured, his voice thick with lust. The forbidden nature of his words sent a shiver down her spine, making her even wetter. She was wearing a traditional bur***, an attire that defined modesty, yet here she was, on her knees, doing the most immodest things with a *** man. And somehow, that contrast only aroused her more, making her thighs clench as her slickness grew.


She was doing her best to swallow the full length of his iron-hard cock, her throat stretching around him, and never mind how it made her pussy throb. Holy fuck. It had never made her this wet before. She slid her fingers between her slick folds just to confirm—yes, she was soaked, dripping down her thighs.

The scent of her arousal filled the air, intoxicating, undeniable. Her clit pulsed, sending waves of desperate need through her body, making her ache for more.




Vishal’s POV:  



Vishal’s eyes locked onto Afrah, his cock twitching at the sight of her—head modestly wrapped in fabric, her face exposed, lips stretched wide around his thick shaft. The contrast was maddening. A woman dbangd in purity, yet here she was, on her knees, sucking him off like she was made for it. It sent a savage thrill through him.  
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, threading his fingers through the silky fabric covering her head, gripping just enough to keep her right where he wanted. "So modest, yet doing such filthy things with your mouth."  

She whimpered around him, the vibrations shooting straight through his cock, making his balls tighten.  

Afrah was hungry for it—her tongue flicking and swirling over his sensitive tip before she sank her mouth down again, taking him deeper. Her throat stretched, lips sealing tight around his girth, and Vishal let out a raw, primal groan.  

"Ahhh, fucking hell… your mouth feels too good," he gritted out, his hips rolling forward, testing how much more she could take.  

She hollowed her cheeks, sucking with obscene eagerness, and when her teeth lightly scbangd along his shaft, he jerked, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.  

"Shit," he growled, watching her with dark amusement. "You like teasing me, don’t you?"  

She pulled off with a wet pop, her lips glossy with spit and arousal. A thick bead of pre-cum oozed from his tip, and before he could even command her, she leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap it up.  

The sight sent a brutal wave of pleasure through him. He grabbed her chin, tilting her face up, forcing her to look at him.  

“Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb smearing his arousal over her lips. “Dressed so modestly, yet here you are, swallowing my cock like a desperate little slut.”  

Her breath hitched, her pupils blown wide with lust. She was soaked—he could smell it, the heady scent of her arousal thick in the air.  

Vishal smirked, gripping his shaft and tapping the slick head against her flushed cheek, then trailing it down to her chin.  

"Open up," he ordered. "I’m not done using that mouth yet."  




The contrast was almost too much for Vishal to handle.  

The way she looked—modest, covered, almost demure—yet here she was, on her knees before him, her lips stretched around his thick cock like she was made for it.  

It was her first time. The way she hesitated, testing her movements, learning his reactions—yet she was a natural. Her soft lips wrapped around his girth, suckling him with reverence, as though she’d been dreaming of this moment long before it happened.  

Vishal’s jaw clenched as she kissed the tip, her tongue flicking out to gather the bead of pre-cum glistening there. She pulled back just slightly, breathing warm air over his length before dipping back in, her tongue swirling, teasing.  

His fingers dug into the edge of the car behind him. “Your fucking mouth is addicting,” he growled.  

She hummed against him, as if she liked hearing that, and tried to take more. His cock was big, far too thick for her to take in one go. She struggled past five inches before she gagged slightly, pulling back with a gasp, her lips shiny, her chin wet from the mess they were making.  

A strand of slick pre-cum trailed from her lips to his tip, a sinful little web connecting them. She was panting, wide eyes flicking from his cock to his face, as if waiting for approval.  

Vishal’s smirk was wicked. She looked so innocent—yet so utterly ruined. And fuck, she wasn’t even done yet.  

His cock twitched, and her breath hitched.  

She licked her lips, tasting the remnants of him there. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she leaned back in.  

She wasn’t stopping until she had all of him.  



Afrah was something else.  

One moment, she was pushing Vishal away, playing at innocence, and the next—her soft, warm lips were wrapped around his thick cock, her tongue flicking against his sensitive tip. She was inexperienced, but damn if she wasn’t a natural.  

“Fuck, Afrah…” Vishal groaned, his head tilting back as his fingers threaded through her hair. “You’re already so good at this.”  

She hummed around his length, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core. Her mouth stretched wide, struggling to take more of him, her eyes flicking up to meet his as if asking for approval.  

“You’re so big,” she breathed out, pulling back just enough to catch her breath before trailing wet kisses along his length. “I don’t think I can take all of you.”  

Vishal smirked, watching her try. “Just do what you can, baby. Every inch feels fucking amazing.”  

She blushed but didn’t stop. Her fingers wrapped around the base, stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. She suckled on his tip, her tongue teasing the sensitive slit before drawing him in deeper, inch by inch.  

“Shit… just like that,” he groaned, his grip tightening in her hair. “You’re fucking perfect.”  

Afrah’s lashes fluttered, and despite the struggle, she moaned around him, aroused by his reactions. She wanted to please him—wanted to make him lose control.  

And from the way his muscles tensed and his breath hitched, she was succeeding.  



Her head was covered, the fabric framing her delicate features, a stark contrast to the sinful act she was lost in. That contrast—her modesty against the way she worshiped his cock—made Vishal's length twitch inside her warm, eager mouth.  

She gasped, pulling back, her lips parting as she sucked in air. A thin strand of pre-cum stretched from her swollen lips to his tip, glistening like a web in the dim light. Her chin and mouth were wet, her breath coming in soft, needy pants.  

Vishal’s cock throbbed at the sight.  

Afrah’s big doe eyes stayed fixed on his length, wide with something between innocence and hunger. Then, slowly, deliberately, she lifted her gaze to meet his.  

“Look at you,” Vishal murmured, his voice thick with arousal. His thumb brushed against her slick lower lip, smearing the wetness across her skin. “You love this, don’t you?”  

She shivered but didn’t answer, only parting her lips again, letting her tongue peek out as if silently begging for more.  

“Good girl,” he rasped, gripping her jaw. “Now, take me back in.”  



Afrah’s delicate fingers remained wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, spreading the slick mixture of her spit and his pre-cum along his thick length. The way she moved—hesitant yet eager—sent a pulse of pleasure straight to Vishal’s core.  

With a low groan, he took himself in hand, rubbing his swollen tip against her flushed cheeks, smearing his arousal across her soft skin. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him paint her, her lips parting slightly, a soft whimper escaping as his heat marked her.  

“Fuck, Afrah,” he muttered, watching her, enthralled.  

She wrapped her fingers around him again, stroking slowly, deliberately, her gaze locked on his cock as if mesmerized by the way his foreskin slid back and forth, revealing the sensitive tip. Her tongue darted out, flicking against it, tasting him, before she pressed a lingering kiss to the head.  

Then, with a slow inhale, she took him back into her mouth.  

It’s a beautiful fucking sight. A scene Vishal could watch every day of his damn life.  

She looked up at him, her big, dark eyes smoldering, filled with heat and unspoken hunger. There was something else there, too—excitement, anticipation. She was on board for everything that wass or her to come.  

And Vishal was going to make sure of it.  


Afrah’s mouth wrapped around him, warm and tight, as she slowly pulled his length deeper. Her fingers moved skillfully, massaging his balls, teasing the sensitive skin beneath, driving him insane with each calculated touch.  

She worked him like a woman possessed, her rhythm torturous—stroking his cock, rolling his balls, tracing slow, maddening circles with her fingertips. Her tongue was sinful, flicking and swirling, coating him in slick heat.  

“Fuck… you’re unreal,” Vishal groaned, his head tipping back.  

She purred around him, the soft vibrations sending sharp jolts of pleasure down his spine. For someone so modest, so seemingly innocent, she sucked his cock like it was the most precious thing in the world.  

Her flushed cheeks, her doe eyes framed by the soft fabric of her veil—it was a vision of pure, filthy contrast. And the little moans she made, the way she shifted, pressing her thighs together—she was aroused. She was getting off on this.  

The image alone was too much.  

Vishal’s muscles tensed, his control slipping as her teeth grazed over his sensitive flesh—just enough to push him over the edge.  

“Ah—shit, Afrah!” he groaned, his body jerking as pleasure crashed over him. 

-

Vishal’s muscles jerked, his entire body coiling like a spring as the heat inside him surged to its breaking point. Afrah’s teeth grazed his sensitive flesh, sending a shudder through him—a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, tipping him over the edge.  

With a guttural groan, he erupted.  

Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded her mouth, the sheer force of it making her eyes widen. She gasped, instinctively pulling back, but his release was relentless. Strands of creamy white painted her chin, her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and finally, streaked across her veil.  

[img]<a href=[/img]" />
The black fabric was marked, stained with his seed.  

Vishal’s breath came in ragged pants as he took in the sight before him—her delicate, innocent features now laced with filth. Her lips glistened with his seed, her wide, dark eyes filled with a mix of shock and something deeper… something darker.  

A raw hunger flickered in her gaze as she hesitated, swallowing what little she had managed to hold. A soft whimper escaped her, her tongue darting out to catch the remnants of his release from her lower lip.  
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His cock twitched at the sheer eroticism of it.  

“Fuck, Afrah…” His voice was thick, hoarse. He reached out, cupping her cum-slicked chin, smearing his seed across her soft skin. “Look at you.”  

She blinked up at him, cheeks still flushed, her breath uneven. Slowly, as if realizing the state she was in, her fingers rose, hesitantly touching the sticky trails on her veil, feeling the warmth of his release clinging to her.  

A deep, satisfied smirk curled at Vishal’s lips.  

“Now that’s a fucking sight,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her wet lips. “You wear it so well.”  

Her lashes fluttered, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.  

And just like that, he knew—this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her like this.

[a2011]

awesome update..

[Pushpa Purusan]

super sexy update

[Periyapoolan]

Lovely update

[Vinty03]

Hot update ...

[xboard1986]

Wonderful

[K MD THABREZ]

Very nice update

[Yesudoss]

Wasted on the face. He should have made that bitch drink every drop of it.

[a2011]

this is getting interesting...want to see Afrah get fucked by Vishal on her wedding night and Sohail yanking off watching them..

[sunniappan]

Let vishal humiliate sohail more.

[xboard1986]

Waiting for next

[RandiKamya]

waiting

[veeravaibhav]

Lovely bro, post the next update soon.