Adultery Between Nabila and Ranjeet

[naj0501]

The last slice of pizza was gone. The comfortable mess of our meal,soiled wet tissues and empty boxes lay on the floor. Adnan, energized by the food, bounced on his knees.


"Mummy, can we watch a movie now?" he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, already looking towards the big screen. "On the big, big TV?"

"Good idea, champ," Ranjeet said, smiling from his spot on the floor.

"Of course, baba," I said.

I picked up the remote.After a few clicks, the bright, cheerful music of an animated movie filled the living room.

I sank into the plush cushions of the new sofa. It felt like a deep, welcoming sigh. Adnan immediately scrambled up next to me. He grabbed a throw pillow and curled up, his small body fitting perfectly against my side. He rested his head on my shoulder.
Ranjeet cleaned the mess of the empty pizza boxes and the stuff and went to the balcony to smoke the cigarette.Through the large glass door, I could see him. He was standing on the spacious balcony. He was leaning with one hip against the railing. He was looking out at the grey, cloudy sky.

He brought a cigarette to his lips. I saw the small, bright orange flare of the lighter. He took a long, slow drag. A thin plume of white smoke left his lips. The cool breeze immediately snatched it and carried it away.

He reached into his pocket. He pulled out his mobile phone. He held the cigarette in one hand and the phone in the other. His thumb moved in a slow, easy scroll down the screen. His expression was neutral. He was relaxed. He was just a man having a quiet moment to himself.

I felt the comforting weight of Adnan's head on my shoulder. He would giggle at the funny parts. About a few minutes through the movie, Adnan’s breathing grew deep and even. He was fast asleep. I looked down at his peaceful face. I leaned my own head back, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to me. I felt completely, utterly safe.

The peaceful silence was broken by the ringtone of my phone. I fumbled for it, quickly silencing the ring before it could wake Adnan. The screen glowed with a single word: Ammi.

My breath caught. I glanced towards the balcony, where the cherry-red tip of Ranjeet’s cigarette glowing on a cloudy day, then down at my sleeping son. Taking a steadying breath, I answered, keeping my voice to a low whisper.

"AssalamuAlaykum, Ammi."

"Nabila! I was just calling to check in. How are you? How is my little Adnan?" Her voice was a familiar, comforting sound from a world away in Delhi.

"We're fine. Everything is fine. Adnan is just sleeping." I stroked his hair, the truth of that small statement a comfortable anchor.

"Good, good. So, what are you two up to on a lazy Sunday? Did you go to the park?" she asked, her tone casual, full of the simple, expected rhythms of our life.

And there it was. The chasm between the life my mother knew and the one I was sitting in at this very moment felt miles wide. I couldn't possibly tell her that I was in a breathtakingly lavish apartment I hadn't even known existed this morning, that my son was asleep in a strange new place, that the man who had turned my world upside down was just feet away on a balcony smoking a cigarette. The practical, sensible woman who raised me would be overwhelmed with a thousand questions I had no answers for yet.

So, a lie, small and smooth, slipped out before I could stop it.

"No, just a quiet day at home," I whispered, the words tasting like foreign script in my mouth. "We had some lunch, and now we're just relaxing on the sofa, watching a movie."

The heavy glass door slid open and shut with a soft whoosh,Ranjeet stepped back inside, bringing a wave of cool breeze with him. His gaze fell first on the sofa, where Adnan had shifted, his head now nestled deeply into a cushion, a soft, innocent snore escaping his lips. A playful smile touched Ranjeet’s mouth before his eyes found me. 

"How is Aisha? Is she okay?" I asked Ammi.

My heart hammered against my ribs. The physical proof of my secret was now standing just feet away.

Ammi's voice came through the phone. "Alhamdulillah, she is doing well. The doctors are happy. She is resting now..."
While she was speaking, Ranjeet walked over. He moved quietly around the coffee table. He stood directly in front of me. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea for him to wait.

He didn't seem to notice. His expression was full of a pure, uncomplicated affection. He leaned down, bringing his face level with mine. His hands were warm and gentle as they came up to hold my face.

My mother's voice was a distant murmur in my ear. All I could feel was the soft pressure of his palms against my cheeks. All I could see were his dark, loving eyes.

Then, he leaned in the last few inches and softly kissed me on the lips.

It was a soft, brief, and utterly electrifying press of his lips to mine. It was a kiss of pure, impulsive love. It was also the most dangerous thing he could have possibly done.
I had to end the call. Right now.

"Ammi, I have to go," I said into the phone. My voice was a strained, urgent whisper. “I put milk on the stove for chai and I can hear it boiling over! I have to run! Khuda Hafiz, I'll call you back!"

"Oh, okay, beta. You take care."

I quickly said goodbye. "Khuda Hafiz."

I ended the call. My hand was shaking as I placed the phone on the cushion beside me. Ranjeet was still crouched in front of me. The playful, loving smile was still on his face.

Before I could say a word, he leaned in again. This time, the kiss was not soft or quick. It was passionate, wild, like a fire that had been waiting to burst out.

I felt his lips press hard against mine, full of hunger and love. My arms wrapped around his neck without thinking, pulling him closer. His hands moved from my face to my back, holding me tight. Our kiss deepened, our breaths mixing fast and hot. I could taste the faint smoke from his cigarette, but it only made the moment more intense. Everything else faded away. It was just us, lost in this wild storm of feelings.

My body tingled all over, my fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed me like he couldn't get enough, and I kissed him back the same way. It was rough and sweet at the same time, making my head spin. After what felt like forever, we pulled apart just a little, both of us breathing heavy. His forehead rested against mine, and he whispered, "Nabila, I need you." I smiled, my cheeks burning, feeling alive and scared and happy all at once.

I couldn't hold back anymore. I pulled him closer, my lips crashing into his with a hunger I didn't know I had. Our kiss turned fiercer, wilder, like we were trying to melt into each other. His hands roamed my back, pulling me tight against him, and I felt every inch of his strong body pressing into mine.

I tangled my fingers deeper in his hair, tugging gently, which made him groan softly into my mouth. The taste of him-smoky, sweet, and all Ranjeet-drove me crazy. My body was on fire, every touch sending sparks through me. I arched into him, my nails lightly scratching his shoulders through his shirt. He responded by kissing down my neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat that made me gasp. "Ranjeet," I moaned quietly, my voice barely a whisper.

He pulled back a little and took my hands in his. "Come," he said softly, his voice deep and rough. He helped me stand up from the sofa. My legs felt weak, like jelly, from the kiss. I glanced at Adnan, still sleeping peacefully with his little snores. The movie was playing quietly in the background, but I didn't care about it anymore.

Ranjeet smiled, that playful look back on his face. Before I could say anything, he bent down and lifted me into his arms. I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold on. "Ranjeet! What are you doing?" I whispered, half laughing, half excited. I felt light in his strong arms, like a bride being carried.

He carried me easily towards the bedroom, his steps quiet so not to wake Adnan. The door was open.He kicked the door shut gently behind us and set me down on my feet, right there on the floor. His hands stayed on my waist, holding me close. His eyes never left mine, full of promise. "Now, we have some time just for us," he said, leaning in closer. My body tingled again, ready for whatever came next.

[monikapu32]

Another superb narration

[naj0501]

How do you guys imagine Nabila look a like ? I'm curious.

[naj0501]

Another superb narration

Thanks .

[libra.88]

Will Adnan interrupt Nabila and Ranjeet while they will be lost in their Love making ? Nabila without clothes in cozy position with ranjeet.

[libra.88]

When is the next update coming? Can't wait after all this build up.

[naj0501]

Image

[naj0501]

He carried me easily towards the bedroom, his steps quiet so not to wake Adnan. The door was open.He kicked the door shut gently behind us and set me down on my feet, right there on the floor. His hands stayed on my waist, holding me close. His eyes never left mine, full of promise. "Now, we have some time just for us," he said, leaning in closer. My body tingled again, ready for whatever came next.


His hands began a slow, deliberate journey from my waist, up my sides, his thumbs drawing circles that made my skin tingle even through the fabric. They settled on my shoulders, the warmth of his palms sinking deep. He turned me gently, a silent command, until my back was pressed flush against the hard, muscular wall of his chest. 

I felt every inch of him. I felt the undeniable, hard ridge of his cock pressing insistently against the curve of my bum through my jeans. It was a silent, potent declaration of his need.

A low, guttural hiss escaped his lips 

 “Finally… I’m feeling my sexy queen.”

The raw, possessive words shattered my composure. A breathless, helpless moan escaped me.

 “Ohhhh… Ranjeeet…” My own hands came up to find the back of his head, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him instinctively and  desperately closer to my neck.

His arms wrapped around me, his hands locking over my belly, caging me against him in a possessive embrace. His lips found the cold metal of my gold hoop, his tongue tracing its curve before his teeth gently tugged on my earlobe. 

As his mouth blazed a trail of open-mouthed, wet kisses down my neck, his right hand began its own slow, torturous journey upward. It slid over my ribs, each finger a brand of fire until his palm finally settled, possessively, over the full swell of my left breast.

The heat of his hand through the thin crepe of my blouse and the lace of my bra made me gasp, my body arching back into his as if seeking more of the contact. My own moan surprised me, a raw, unfamiliar sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He answered with a slow, deliberate squeeze, his thumb finding the nipple through the fabric and circling it, coaxing it into a tight, hard point. At the very same moment, his left hand gathered my hair, lifting all of it and dbanging it over my right shoulder.

He now had a clear view of my neck. I felt his fingers searching at the top of my spine. They found the single, tiny pearl button there. A soft click echoed in the quiet room. The neck of my top loosened, exposing my skin. Before I could even take a breath, his mouth was there. He pressed a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss onto that newly bare spot. A shiver went through my entire body.

His arms slid around me from behind. He pulled me back against his chest. His hands came up and covered my breasts completely. His grip was firm. It was possessive.

"So full," he growled. His voice was a low hiss against my ear. "So perfect."

He pressed his palms against my breasts. He was feeling my fullness. He weighed my breasts in his hands.

"It feels so fucking good in my hands, Nabu," he murmured and leaned in. His lips brushed my earlobe. 

He cupped my breasts from below. He did not just hold them. He began a slow, kneading rhythm with his palms. With each press, he pushed them up gently. The fabric of my blouse created a delicious friction. My head fell back against his shoulder.He was feeling my fullness. He was feeling the frantic beat of my heart beneath his hands. Then his thumbs moved. They swept upward over the fabric. They teased the hardened nipples with an agonizing slowness. A helpless, breathy sound escaped my lips. I was completely undone by his touch.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've sat across from you, talking about work, about anything... while all I could think about was your round and soft boobs? How would my hands feel them?"

The question hung in the air. I remembered all those times. I had felt his gaze like a physical touch. My cheeks would flush. My heart would race. I could not lie this time. My voice was gone. I just gave a small, jerky nod.

He chuckled softly against my back. It was a warm, satisfying sound.

His hands moved from my waist. They found the hem of my top. He began to lift it slowly.

My body knew what to do before my mind did. My arms lifted instinctively over my head. It was a gesture of pure surrender.
He drew the blouse up and over me. For a brief moment, the world was dark crepe fabric. Then it was gone. He let it fall. It landed on the floor with a soft, final sound.

I stood there. My back was still to him. I was wearing only my coffee-colored bra and my jeans. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on my bare skin.

I could feel his heat just behind me. He hadn't moved. He was just looking.

His right hand came to rest on my bare stomach. The rough skin of his palm was a delicious shock against my smooth skin.
His left hand caught my chin. He turned my head to the side. I could feel the heat of his body against my back. I felt the undeniable hardness of his cock pressing against me.

He put his lips on mine. He began to kiss me. It was a deep, possessive kiss that claimed me completely.
As our kiss deepened, his right hand began to move. It slid slowly, deliberately across my belly. The touch was sudden. It was completely unexpected. His index finger dipped directly into my navel.

A jolt of pure pleasure shot through me. It was a wave that traveled from my head all the way to my toes. I moaned into his mouth. It was a muffled, helpless sound. "Ummmmmppphhh."

His left hand moved up. It wrapped around my breasts. They were still covered by the coffee-colored bra. His grip was not gentle. He began to squeeze and knead them firmly. It was a rough, possessive touch. It was a claiming.

At the same time, his right index finger began a relentless rhythm. It pushed into my navel. Then it pulled out. The motion was hypnotic. It was torturous.

The two sensations were too much. My body squirmed in his arms. It was an involuntary response to the overwhelming pleasure. My hand found his wrist. I gripped it weakly.

"Ranjeet… please… stop…" I pleaded.

My voice was a breathless, broken sound. It was not a real command. It was a surrender.

He chuckled against my ear. It was a low, dark sound. "Today... no stopping, jaanu," he replied.

He knew what I really wanted. With his left hand, he hooked his thumb under the lace cup of my bra. He pulled it down forcefully. My right breast was suddenly free. It was bare in the cool air of the room.

His hand immediately covered my bare skin. The heat of his palm was a shock. His thumb and fingers found my nipple. It was already a hard, aching peak. He began to roll it. He pinched it gently.

A sharp, helpless moan tore from my throat. "Aaahhhhh..."

Before the sound could fully escape, his mouth crashed down on mine. He sealed the sound inside. He swallowed my cry with a deep, punishing kiss.

A soft gasp tore from my lips as he molded me to him, my hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of his pelvis. The thick, rigid length of his cock pressed insistently against the curve of my ass, straining through his trousers, a raw declaration of his want that sent a surge of molten heat to my core. My legs trembled, my clit throbbing as slick warmth soaked my panties, my body already begging for more.

“Feel that, Nabila?” he murmured, his voice a low, husky growl against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “That’s what you do to me. Every damn time.”

“Ranjeet,” I moaned, my voice raw and needy as I threw my head back against his shoulder, overwhelmed by the dual assault-his left hand teasing my navel, stoking a slow burn, and his right hand gripping my breast so firmly it felt like a claim etched into my skin. My ass pressed harder against his erection, the friction drawing a low, guttural groan from him.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled.

I whimpered, my hands clutching his arms tighter, my body trembling as slick heat pooled between my thighs. 

“Love you Ranjeet,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, laced with desperation. 

“Love you too Jaan” he replied, his voice thick with want as his lips grazed my neck, teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. 
His left hand slid down my body. It moved past my navel. His fingers traced the top seam of my high-waisted jeans. They settled just above my center. The touch was a light, agonizing tease. My hips instinctively pushed forward into his hand.
He leaned in. His voice was a raw whisper against my ear. "I want to feel all of you, Nabila." He pressed his palm firmly against me. "I want to feel you tremble. I want to hear you cry out my name."

I turned in his arms. I faced him completely. My hands came up. I held his neck. I pulled him down to me.

My lips crashed against his. It was a fierce kiss. It was wild. Our tongues met in a desperate tangle. They twisted together.
He pushed his tongue into my mouth. I could taste him. It was a taste of smoke, lemon soda, and pure Ranjeet. He tried to go deeper. His tongue explored the inside of my cheeks. It was a slow, claiming exploration. His saliva mixed with mine. Our lips were sealed tight. The saliva gathered in my mouth. I swallowed it down.

While we kissed, his hands began to move. They slid down my back. They settled on my ass. The denim of my jeans was a thin barrier. He started to feel me. His palms were soft against the fabric. He moved his hands in slow, circular motions. He was learning my shape. He was claiming every curve.

I was lost in the delicious violence of our kiss. I felt his hands move from my hips. They slid up to my bare back. His fingers traced the delicate line of my spine. Then they began to search. He was looking for the clasp of my bra.

I expected him to unhook it easily. I imagined a swift, practiced move. But his fingers were clumsy. I felt a frustrated fumbling against my skin. He tried once. He failed. He tried again. The tiny hooks refused to release.

A low, frustrated growl rumbled in his chest. It vibrated against my lips. This was the man who had planned this perfect day. This was the man who moved with such unshakable confidence. But right now, he was being completely defeated by a tiny hook of my bra.

A small smile touched my mouth. It was a secret, silent laugh against his lips. I pulled back from the kiss. It was just enough to breathe. A teasing glint was in my eyes. I met his dark, passion-filled gaze.

"Trouble?" I whispered.

A low, frustrated growl was his only answer.

My smile widened. My hand left his forearm. I reached behind my own back. My fingers found his. They were still fumbling. I brushed against them for a moment. Then my own fingers found the stubborn hook. With a single, practiced flick, it was undone.

The moment the clasp was undone, I felt a release. The thin straps went slack on my shoulders. The molded cups fell away from my body. My breasts were suddenly free. His hands were warm on my shoulders. He slid the straps down my arms. His touch was slow and deliberate. The bra dropped to the floor. It landed in a soft, lacy pile by my feet.

My breasts were bare in the cool air of the room. I stood perfectly still. I did not try to cover myself. I was vulnerable. I was also completely, utterly his.

He didn't move for a long moment. He just looked.His eyes dropped from my face. His gaze was hungry and possessive. It was full of a deep, reverent awe.Then he moved. He grabbed my right breast with his hand.His palm settled on the soft, full underside. His fingers pointed upward toward my shoulder. My brown nipple was smashed flat against his warm palm. He then pressed it gently.

“Ummmmmmm……” My breath hitched. My hands caressed his biceps over his shirt.I leaned forward into his touch. It was a silent invitation. It was a complete surrender.

He took that as his answer. His other hand came up. He cupped both of my breasts. He held their full, heavy weight in his palms. A low groan rumbled in his chest. It was a sound of pure, masculine satisfaction.

"Even more beautiful," he breathed. His voice was a raw, husky sound. "Than anything I could have imagined."

His thumbs found my rubbery nipples. They were already hard, aching peaks. He began to circle them slowly. The agonizingly gentle friction sent a new wave of fire through me. My head fell back. A soft, helpless moan escaped my lips.

That sound was his undoing.A low growl escaped his throat. It was a primal, possessive sound. He bent his head. His mouth found the hard peak of my right nipple. He took it into his mouth.

The sensation was a lightning strike. A sharp cry escaped my lips. My back arched.
His other hand was not idle. It found my other breast. His thumb and forefinger began to pinch and roll the nipple gently. He was pleasuring both of them at once.

My hands left his biceps. They moved to his head. My fingers tangled in his thick, dark hair. I held him there. I pressed him closer.

He lifted his head for a moment. His gaze met mine. His eyes were dark with a promise. Then he moved to my other breast. His mouth claimed it with the same hungry intensity.

He finally pulled back. We were both breathing heavily. He looked from my face to the magnificent king-sized bed. A silent, possessive look was in his eyes.

"Turn around," he whispered. His voice was a raw, husky sound.

I did not hesitate. My body was a pliant instrument for his pleasure. I turned my back to him.

He placed his hands on my waist. He guided me forward. We walked the few steps to the bed. He stopped me at the edge of the mattress.

"Put your hands on the bed," he commanded softly.

I obeyed. I leaned forward. I placed my palms flat on the crisp, white sheets. My body was bent over the bed. My ass was pushed out towards him. I was completely vulnerable before him. I was waiting.

[naj0501]

My palms were flat on the crisp, white sheets. I was bent over the bed. I turned my head to look behind me. My gaze found Ranjeet.

He was not wasting any time. His fingers moved swiftly. He undid the button of his trousers. He did not bother with his underwear. He just pushed everything down in one smooth, urgent motion. His pants and underwear pooled around his ankles. He kicked them away. They landed in a heap on the floor.

His cock was now on full display. It was strong. It was stout. It was uncut.
A slow, wicked smile touched my lips.
He noticed my smile. His own grin was pure, masculine pride.

"Look, darling," he said. His voice was a low, possessive growl. "He's very eager to meet you."

His right hand closed around his length. He gave it a single, slow stroke. His eyes never left mine. He walked towards me. He did not break his gaze.

He stopped just behind me. His free hand caressed my bare back. His touch was a trail of fire. His fingers found the button of my jeans. I heard the soft pop as it came undone. Then I heard the slow, deliberate rasp of the zipper.

He pushed the heavy denim down. It slid over my hips. It stopped at my calves. The skinny jeans were tight. I helped him then. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. He rolled the denim off each of my legs.

I was wearing only my coffee-colored panties. The delicate lace panel was on full display. His breath hitched. It was a sharp, appreciative sound.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband. He did not rush. He slid them down my legs slowly. He was savoring the reveal. The panties fell to the floor. They joined my jeans in a soft heap.

I was now completely naked before him- wet,vulnerable and waiting.

His foot nudged mine firmly, and his deep voice came out like a command, dripping with raw dominance. “Spread your legs, baby… open that sweet pussy for me.”

Like I was his to command, I obeyed instantly, parting my legs wide, my body trembling with anticipation and surrender.

“That’s my good little slut,” he growled approvingly, his voice thick with lust. He shifted behind me, his strong hands gripping my hips as he aligned the swollen head of his cock against my slick entrance, the heat of it teasing my wet folds.

Just as he started to push forward, I froze, realizing he wasn’t wearing a condom. My hand shot to his taut belly, pressing against the hard muscle to stop him. “Wait,” I gasped.

He pulled back slightly, irritation flashing in his dark eyes. “What the fuck’s wrong now?” he snapped, his voice rough with need.

“Condom, please,” I said, my voice firm but shaking from the intensity between us.

He let out an annoyed growl, his jaw tight. “Fuck you and your damn condoms,” he muttered, but then he nodded toward the nightstand. “They’re in the drawer. Grab one, quick.”

I reached over, my fingers fumbling as I yanked open the drawer. Inside, I found a few condom packets scattered among other things. I grabbed one, the foil cool against my heated skin.

I reached back with the condom packet in my trembling hand, offering it to Ranjeet, but he shook his head, a wicked glint in his dark eyes. “I’m not doing that, my sexy girl,” he growled, his voice thick with filthy promise. “You put it on me.”

I frowned, a mix of surprise and heat flooding my cheeks as I straightened up, my body still buzzing from his touch. With slightly shaky fingers, I tore open the foil packet, the sharp rip echoing in the charged silence between us.

“Roll it on too, baby,” he said, his tone low and commanding, a smirk curling his lips as he watched me like a predator sizing up his prey.

I reached for his cock, my fingers wrapping around its thick, pulsing length, hot and heavy in my hand. My breath hitched as I positioned the condom ring at the tip, ready to roll it down, but he stopped me with a firm grip on my wrist. His eyes burned into mine, dark and demanding.

“With your mouth, babe,” he ordered, his voice a rough growl that sent a fresh wave of wetness between my thighs. Before I could respond, he pushed me down gently but firmly, guiding me to my knees on the floor. My heart raced as I looked up at him, his towering frame and hard cock right in front of my face, the air thick with his raw dominance.

“Show me how much you want it,” he murmured, his hand tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to make me moan softly. “Put that pretty mouth to work and get me ready to fuck you.”

My lips parted, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through me as I leaned forward, the condom still in my hand, ready to obey his dirty command.

I had a red colored cherry flavour lubricated condom in my right hand. I held his thick cock with my left hand and stroked it gently. My fingers were wrapped around his hard shaft, and with my thumb, I gently glided the tender cowl of his dark foreskin back, fully exposing the glistening, purple head.

A single, perfect bead of precum trembled at the slit. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to lick it away. The taste was intoxicating-a sharp, salty tang layered over a deep, primal musk. It was the taste of him, undiluted and raw.

A low, guttural growl ripped from his chest. That was all the encouragement I needed. I gave him a quick, greedy suck, taking the entire head into the hot, wet cavern of my mouth, my tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge before pulling back with a soft pop.

"Fuck... yes," he groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Then, I returned to my task. I took the red condom ring, slick with its own lubricant, and pressed it against his tip again. I sealed my lips around it and began to slide down, the suction and pressure of my mouth expertly unfurling the latex. The taste was a strange, sudden shock-an artificial strawberry sweetness that mingled with the salty musk of his skin. It was a bizarre and thrilling combination.

My free hand followed my mouth's descent, smoothing the red sheath down his entire pulsing length until he was fully encased.

When I was done, his entire length was sealed in a slick, bright red layer, ready for me. I stayed there for a moment, my lips still brushing against his base, the sweet, synthetic taste of strawberry still on my tongue.

He didn't let me linger. He yanked my head back by my hair, not painfully, but with an undeniable authority that forced me to look up at him. His face was a mask of pure, savage lust, his eyes burning with an intensity that stole my breath.

Ranjeet’s commanding voice cut through the haze of my desire. “Get up,” he growled, his tone dripping with raw dominance. He pulled me to my feet with a firm tug, his strong hands spinning me around until my back faced him.

With a gentle but insistent push, he bent me forward, my palms pressing into the soft mattress, my body exposed and trembling. His grip shifted to my thigh, rough fingers digging into my flesh as he lifted one leg, hooking it onto the bed. My foot sank into the sheets, leaving me spread wide open, my dripping pussy vulnerable and aching for him.

His hands clamped onto my waist, possessive and unyielding, as he positioned himself behind me. I felt the thick, hot head of his condom-covered cock nudge against my slick entrance, teasing my sensitive folds. “Alright, my sweety,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, “I’m gonna claim that tight pussy of yours now… gonna fuck you so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

“Aahhhhh!” I moaned, my eyes fluttering shut as he started to slide his cock inside me, slow and deliberate, stretching my wet pussy with every inch. The sensation was electric, my walls clutching his thick length, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body, making my toes curl and my breath hitch.

He pushed deeper, unrelenting, until he was buried to the hilt, his crotch pressed flush against my ass. I gasped, overwhelmed by how full I felt, his cock throbbing inside me. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands tightening on my waist, fingers biting into my skin.

Then he started to move. He pulled out halfway, the slow drag of his cock making me whimper, before thrusting back in, deep and deliberate. He set a slow, torturous rhythm, each stroke measured but powerful, hitting every sensitive spot inside me. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, my hands gripping the bedsheets so tightly my knuckles turned white. My head dropped forward, my thick braid sliding over my shoulder to brush against the bed, swaying with each of his thrusts.

His low, guttural moans filled the air, mixing with my own desperate sounds. “Goddamn, Nabila, this pussy feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” he growled, one hand sliding up to grip my hip harder, the other reaching forward to tug lightly on my braid, pulling my head back just enough to make me arch. “Moan louder for me, baby. Let me hear how much you love getting fucked like this.”

I couldn’t help it-my moans grew louder, raw and needy, as his slow, deep thrusts drove me wild, my pussy clenching tighter around him with every move. “Ranjeet… oh, fuck, don’t stop,” I gasped, my voice trembling, lost in the pleasure of being completely his.

Ranjeet kept fucking me in a steady, relentless rhythm, his thick cock sliding in and out of my soaked pussy, the slick, wet heat of my walls gripping him tightly with every thrust. The air was heavy with the musky scent of our arousal, laced with the salty tang of sweat clinging to our skin.

Each deep push sent electric jolts of pleasure surging through me, my body trembling, my heart racing with a desperate need for him. My hands clawed at the bedsheets, twisting the cool, soft cotton, my knuckles white as I anchored myself against the overwhelming sensation.

Then, with a powerful thrust, he buried his entire length inside me, his cock pulsing hot and heavy against my tight walls, stretching me to my limits. He paused, letting me feel every throbbing inch of him, and I was panting hard, my chest heaving with ragged breaths, each one loud in the charged silence of the room.

The leg propped on the bed ached, the muscle straining in its awkward angle, the dull pain mingling with the fire of pleasure that made my clit throb and my core clench around him, my soul laid bare to his touch.

He sensed my discomfort, his rough hands sliding to my thigh, calloused fingers digging into my soft, trembling flesh as he gently lifted my leg off the bed and set it on the cool hardwood floor, the smooth surface grounding me.

“Can’t let my gorgeous girl hurt when I’m this deep in you,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly growl that vibrated against my ear, sending shivers down my spine and straight to my heart.

He leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against my back, the coarse fabric of his shirt scbanging my sweat-slicked skin, tethering me to him in a way that felt like he was claiming my very existence.

His strong hands gripped my upper arms, pulling me upright until my back was flush against his hard, muscular frame, his cock still buried deep inside me, pulsing with heat, making my pussy quiver and drip with need. In that moment, I felt utterly his, my heart pounding with a mix of surrender and fierce love.

His arms slid beneath my underarms, wrapping tightly around my breasts, his forearms crossing just below my neck in a possessive, almost suffocating hold that pinned me against him, as if he could fuse our bodies into one. The heat of his skin, the faint scratch of his arm hair, and the steady thud of his heartbeat against my back overwhelmed me, syncing with the wild, erratic thump of my own pulse. My braid swayed against my shoulder, the coarse strands brushing my collarbone, tickling my overheated skin, a small sensation that grounded me in the storm of our connection.

My golden hoop earrings swayed wildly with each thrust, brushing against my jaw, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of my flushed skin. The delicate necklace around my throat bounced against my collarbone, the small pendant tapping rhythmically against my chest, mirroring the pounding of my heart.

With that, he started moving again, his hips jerking with a fierce, desperate intensity. He pulled his cock out almost completely, the slow, torturous drag leaving my pussy aching and empty, my walls clenching with need, before he slammed back in, his hips smacking against my ass with a loud, wet slap that echoed in the room.

The force jolted my body, making my hoop earrings swing wildly and my necklace bounced harder, the pendant tapping against my sweat-dampened chest.

“Aahhhhh!” I moaned, my voice breaking into a raw, pleading cry, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure and a sharp edge of pain surged through me, my heart aching with how much I needed him, loved him.

He fucked me like I was his entire world, wild and unrestrained, each thrust savage and deep, his cock hitting spots inside me that made my vision blur with stars.

The room filled with the obscene, wet sounds of our bodies colliding, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin mingling with my frantic moans and his low, guttural groans, each sound a testament to our shared hunger.

“Fuck, you take this dick so fucking well, Nabila,” he snarled, his hands tightening on my arms, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks I’d wear like badges of his love.

One hand slid up to grip my chin, tilting my head back roughly so he could see my face, his thumb brushing over my parted lips, slick with saliva. “Look at you, moaning like my perfect little M***i slut. You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking your dripping pussy until you can’t think straight.”

The term “M***i slut” hit me like a spark, igniting a complex rush of emotions-shock at the raw, filthy edge of it, but also a strange, thrilling pride at being claimed so boldly. My cheeks flushed hotter, a mix of embarrassment and arousal, my heart skipping as I embraced the dirty intimacy of it.

I leaned into his touch, my lips brushing his thumb as I moaned, “ Ohhhh…., Ranjeet……” My voice was raw, shaking with a blend of defiance and surrender, my pussy clenching tighter around him as if to prove my words, my body trembling with the intensity of our bond.

“Harder… Ranjeet… please, fuck your M***i slut harder, make her feel you forever!” I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks, not from shame but from the overwhelming love and desire that consumed me. My hands clawed at his hips, nails digging deeper, desperate to anchor myself to him, to etch this moment into my soul.

“That’s my fucking awesome,” he growled, his thrusts turning even more ferocious, his cock slamming into me with a relentless rhythm that made my legs tremble and my pussy throb, slick and swollen around him.

“Scream for me, Nabila. Let the whole fucking world hear how much you love this cock tearing your tight cunt apart, how much you love being mine.”

My moans escalated into desperate, broken screams, each thrust driving me closer to the edge, my body and soul completely surrendered to his wild, possessive fucking. His arms held me like he’d never let go, his lips brushing my neck with every rough thrust, the faint taste of my sweat on his tongue as he claimed every inch of me.

“I love you, Ranjeet,” I whispered through my cries, my voice barely audible but heavy with truth, my heart laid bare as he fucked me into oblivion, binding us together in a fire that felt like it could burn forever.

[naj0501]

Ranjeet’s thrusts grew wild and erratic, his thick cock slamming into me with a desperate, primal intensity, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through my trembling body. The air was thick with the musky scent of our sweat-soaked skin, the wet, rhythmic slap of his hips against my ass filling the room, mingling with my broken moans and his deep, guttural groans.

My soul felt intertwined with his, every thrust a declaration of a love so fierce it consumed me.

Suddenly, he pulled out, leaving my pussy aching and empty, a soft whimper escaping my lips at the loss. His hands gripped my shoulders, turning me with a commanding urgency. “On your knees, Nabila,” he growled, his voice raw with lust and a possessive devotion that made my heart clench. “Get down for me, sweety”

My body moved on instinct, my knees sinking to the floor as I knelt before him, my breath uneven, my skin tingling with anticipation and the overwhelming depth of my feelings.

He yanked off the condom with a quick, careless motion, tossing it to the floor, the slick latex landing with a faint thud. His right hand tangled in my hair, fingers gripping tightly, sending a sharp sting through my scalp that only deepened my surrender. He guided my head toward his glistening cock, hard and throbbing, slick and with the faint cherry scent of the condom’s lubricant.

I wrapped my right hand around the base of his slippery cock, my fingers trembling as they encircled his thick girth, the heat of him pulsing against my palm. My left hand braced against his muscular thigh, feeling the tense flex of his muscles, grounding me in the moment.

I leaned forward, my lips parting as I took him into my mouth, the cherry flavor of the condom mingling with the salty, musky taste of his skin. My tongue swirled around the swollen head, lapping at the slickness, and I moaned softly, the vibration drawing a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Nabila, your mouth feels like heaven,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust and a raw, aching love that made my chest tighten. His hand tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper, his eyes locked on mine, dark with desire and a vulnerability that mirrored my own. “Suck me like you mean it, baby. Show me how much you love me.”

My heart swelled at his words, as I poured every ounce of my devotion into the act, my lips stretching around his length, my tongue pressing against the underside as I took him deeper. “I love you so much, Ranjeet,” I murmured around him, my voice muffled but heavy with emotion, my right hand stroking his base in rhythm with my sucking. His groans grew louder, more primal, his hips twitching as he neared the edge.

In moments, his body stiffened, his cock pulsing hard in my mouth. A loud, guttural groan tore from his throat-“Aaaahhhhh!”-and I felt his grip tighten in my hair, his fingers digging into my scalp as his cock erupted.

Hot, thick spurts of his cum hit the back of my throat, filling my mouth with a rush of warmth. The taste was strange-salty, slightly bitter, with a lingering hint of cherry from the condom-its creamy texture overwhelming, coating my tongue as I struggled to hold it all. My heart pounded, not just from the physical intensity but from the profound intimacy of taking him like this, of sharing something so raw and unguarded.

He stayed there, his cock buried in my mouth, his hand holding my head firmly until the last drop spilled from him, his body trembling slightly with the force of his release.

Slowly, he eased out, his hand sliding from my hair to grip my chin gently, tilting my face up to meet his eyes. Our gazes locked, his dark eyes shimmering with a mix of dominance, love, and something almost reverent, like I was his entire world.

My heart ached at the intensity of it, my mouth still full of his cum, warm and thick, a tangible symbol of his claim on me. My lips parted slightly, the liquid pooling on my tongue, my breath shallow as I looked up at him, vulnerable and completely his.

“Swallow,” he commanded, his voice low and authoritative, but softened by a tender undercurrent that made my chest tighten. “Take all of me, Nabila. Show me you’re mine.”

I hesitated, my heart racing, a flicker of uncertainty passing through me. The taste, the texture-it was so new, so intense, and part of me wasn’t sure I could do it. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw not just desire but trust, love, a bond that went beyond this moment.

My emotions surged, tears spilling down my cheeks, not from doubt but from the overwhelming need to give him everything, to prove the depth of my devotion. My necklace shifted slightly, the pendant catching on my collarbone, grounding me in the moment as my earrings brushed my tear-streaked cheeks.

“Fill your tummy with my cum, sweety,” he murmured, his tone softer now, laced with a playful edge but heavy with emotion. “It’s your punishment for making me wear that damn condom when all I wanted was to feel you raw… but it’s also my gift to you, because you’re my everything.”

My breath caught, my heart swelling until it felt like it might burst. The word “punishment” sparked a thrill, but his confession of love turned it into something sacred. I closed my eyes for a moment, my chest heaving, my heart beating so fast it echoed in my ears. Gathering every ounce of courage, I swallowed, the thick warmth sliding down my throat, the strange, salty taste lingering as I claimed this part of him. It was more than physical-it was a vow, a merging of our souls, a moment that felt like it sealed our love forever. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his, my lips trembling as I licked them clean, tears still glistening on my cheeks.

“I did it,” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion, raw and vulnerable. “I did it for you, Ranjeet… because I love you more than anything. I’m yours, always.”

His expression softened, his eyes shining with a love so deep it took my breath away. He knelt down in front of me, his hands cupping my face, thumbs brushing away my tears with a tenderness that made my heart ache. “Fuck, Nabila, you’re my whole world,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, cracking slightly. “You didn’t just take me-you gave me everything. I love you so fucking much… I’m never letting you go.”

He pulled me into his arms, our bodies pressing close. My arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tightly, our heartbeats syncing as we clung to each other. The intensity of our emotional bond wrapped around us like a warm, unbreakable thread, binding us in a love that felt eternal, unshakable, as we held each other in the quiet, sacred aftermath of our shared surrender.

[monikapu32]

So hot, erotic narration 


Superb lovely moments

[monikapu32]

Please update the story