Adultery A Sexy Lactating Housewife And Some Ugly Low Class Men

[ashuezy2]

Saga 9 - Scene 2 - Hungry Beggars
========================

The morning after Dipa had bestowed her unique form of charity upon the three beggars, she found herself alone in the quiet house. 
Sameer was at work, Ramla Masi was out buying groceries. A sense of restless energy hummed beneath her skin. She decided a long, hot bath was in order. She had just stepped out of the shower, wrapping a plush white towel around her body, when a soft, hesitant knock came at the front door.

Frowning, she padded to the door, pulling the towel tighter. Through the peephole, she saw them. Rohan, Vijay, and Kiran. They looked cleaner than yesterday, but the raw hunger in their eyes was even more pronounced. A jolt, half fear, half electric thrill, shot through her.

Dipa: (opening the door a crack) What do you want? I told you to go and work.

Rohan: Memsahab. Forgive us for disturbing you. We did work. All morning. But your blessing… it fades quickly. We need… more strength.

His eyes weren't looking at her face. They were fixed on the swell of her breasts above the towel line, then dropped lower, scanning the length of her bare legs.

Vijay: We felt so powerful yesterday, Memsahab. Like kings. But today… the weakness returns. Only you can make us strong again.

Dipa: I cannot feed you every day. You must learn to stand on your own.

Kiran: It is not just the milk, Memsahab. It is… you. Your presence. Your touch. We need to be near the source. Please, just let us sit inside for a few moments. Just to feel your energy.
They weren't being aggressive, but their pleading held an undertone of insistence. Dipa hesitated. Her nipples hardened under the towel.

Dipa: I was about to take a bath…

Rohan: We will not disturb you, Memsahab. We will just sit quietly in your living room. Please. We are begging you. Your blessing yesterday… it gave us hope. Don't take that away.
He reached out, his rough fingers brushing against her bare arm, sending a shiver down her spine.

Dipa: (flustered) Okay… just for a few minutes. But you must be quiet. And then you must leave.
She opened the door wider. They slipped inside, their eyes darting around the clean, spacious room, then immediately fixing back on her. They sat together on the edge of the sofa, like three stray dogs invited into a palace, watching her every move.

Dipa: I need to get dressed…

Vijay: No, Memsahab. Please. You look… perfect like this. 

Rohan: Just… just stand there for a moment. Let us look at you. It helps. It truly does.
She stood frozen by the door, acutely aware of their intense, hungry gazes. She could feel her own body responding, a slow heat building between her legs.

Kiran: Your skin… it looks so soft. Even softer than yesterday.

Rohan: May I… Memsahab, would you permit me to just… touch your arm again? Just for a moment? To feel the purity?
He stood up slowly, moving towards her. Dipa held her breath. She didn't move back. He reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder.

Rohan: Please?
She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. His rough hand settled on her bare shoulder, his thumb stroking her skin gently.

Rohan: Ahhh… yes. So soft. So clean. Not like us.

Vijay: Let me touch her too, Rohan. Let me feel the blessing.

Vijay stood and came to her other side, placing his hand on her other arm. Now she was flanked by them, their rough hands caressing her bare skin. Kiran remained on the sofa, watching, his own hand moving restlessly in his lap.

Kiran: Your breasts… Memsahab, forgive my rudeness, but they look even bigger today. Are they full again? Full of that magic milk?
Dipa blushed, her nipples aching under the towel.

Dipa: They are always full…

Rohan: (his hand sliding down her arm, his voice a low growl) We need more than just looking, Memsahab. We need to taste again. Just a little.

His hand moved from her arm to the edge of her towel, his fingers brushing against the upper curve of her breast.

Dipa: No… please…

Vijay: Just one taste, Memsahab. To give us strength for the whole day. We will work so hard for you.
His hand mirrored Rohan’s, touching the edge of the towel near her other breast.

Rohan: Please, Memsahab. Don't deny your devotees.

His fingers found the knot of the towel tucked between her breasts. He didn't pull. He just rested his fingers there, a silent, potent threat. Dipa looked from Rohan's intense face to Vijay's pleading one, then back to Kiran on the sofa, who was now openly stroking his erection through his pants. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Her pussy was throbbing.

Dipa: (a choked whisper) What… what will you do?

Rohan: We will worship you, Memsahab. Properly this time. We will kiss your feet. We will drink your milk. And then… we will take the full blessing. The one you denied us yesterday.
He slowly, deliberately, began to untuck the knot of her towel. Dipa didn't move. She couldn't. A wave of dizziness washed over her. The towel loosened, held only by the swell of her breasts.

Vijay: You are so beautiful, Memsahab. So generous.

He leaned in and kissed her neck, his rough stubble scbanging against her skin. Rohan did the same on her other side. She was trapped between them, their hands holding her arms, their mouths tasting her skin.

Rohan: Now, Memsahab. Show us your glory.

With a final, gentle tug, he pulled the towel free. It fell silently to the floor. She stood before them, completely naked, her huge breasts heavy and swaying slightly, her nipples like dark, accusing fingers. They stared, their breath catching in their throats.

Kiran: (from the sofa) Fuck… she’s perfect…

Rohan and Vijay released her arms and immediately went for her breasts, each man taking one, their hands rough, possessive. They squeezed, kneaded, weighed the heavy flesh.

Rohan: So heavy… so full…

Kiran scrambled off the sofa and knelt before her, his mouth closing over the nipple She was offering. He began to suckle, hard. Rohan guided Dipa’s other breast towards his own mouth.

Dipa: Ahhh… yes… gently…

But they weren't gentle. They were frantic, desperate, their mouths pulling hard, their hands squeezing bruisingly. Milk flowed freely, spilling down her belly. Vijay joined Kiran on the floor, kneeling before her, his hands roaming her thighs, his fingers dipping into the wetness between her legs.

Vijay: So wet already, Memsahab! You wanted this! You wanted your dirty beggars back!

Dipa: Yes… yes, I wanted you… please… fuck me…

Rohan pulled his mouth from her breast, milk dripping from his chin.

Rohan: Not yet. First, you taste us. All of us.

He unfastened his filthy trousers and pulled out his thick, hard cock. Vijay and Kiran did the same. She was surrounded by their erections, the smell of their bodies filling her senses.

Rohan: On your knees, Memsahab. Time to worship your devotees.

She sank to her knees on the rug, her mind reeling. This was wrong. This was degrading. And it was exactly what she wanted. She took Rohan’s cock in her mouth, her lips closing around the thick, unwashed flesh. Vijay immediately pushed his own cock against her cheek, demanding her attention. Kiran reached around from behind, his fingers probing her ass crack.

Rohan: Yeah, suck it, you rich bitch. Suck the dirt off my cock.

Vijay: Lick mine too! Don’t forget me!

Kiran: Is her asshole tight? Should I put a finger in?

Dipa moaned around Rohan’s shaft, closing her eyes, surrendering completely to the filth, the degradation, the overwhelming pleasure. They used her mouth, her hands, her breasts, passing her between them like a common whore. They covered her skin in spit and pre-cum, their filthy words a constant barrage in her ears.
Finally, Rohan pulled her up.

Rohan: Enough. Time for the main course. Bend over the sofa.

She obeyed, placing her hands on the sofa cushions and lifting her ass into the air. Rohan entered her from behind immediately, his thrusts brutal and deep.

Dipa: Oh, God! Yes! Pound me! Fill me!

Vijay knelt in front of her, forcing her face down onto the sofa cushion while his fingers worked her clit with a cruel precision. Kiran stood beside her, grabbing one of her breasts and biting the nipple hard.

Dipa: AHHHH! YES! BITE ME! HURT ME!

They fucked her like an animal, switching places, using her holes interchangeably. They slapped her ass, pulled her hair, called her every filthy name imaginable. She screamed, she cried, she begged them to cum inside her, but they just laughed, pulling out each time, prolonging her torment, maximizing their pleasure. Her reality dissolved into a blur of sweaty bodies, rough hands, thick cocks, and wave after wave of agonizing, ecstatic pleasure. She forgot who she was, where she was, lost in a storm of pure, unadulterated sensation, a goddess brought low, finding her true heaven in the depths of hell.

[ashuezy2]

Saga 9 - Scene 3 - Beggars Pleasure
==========================

Sameer left the office early, telling his boss he felt unwell. The truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about what Dipa might be doing. The stories she told him were a potent drug, but he was beginning to crave a purer, more direct hit. He let himself into the quiet house with his spare key, calling out her name. No answer. Strange. He heard a noise from the master bedroom. A low moan.

His heart began to hammer, a frantic, terrifying rhythm. He crept down the hall. The bedroom door was slightly ajar. He heard a man’s rough voice, then Dipa’s answering cry of pleasure. It was happening. Now. In their bed.
He didn't feel anger. He felt a dizzying, electric surge of pure, uncut arousal. He had to see. He slipped into the adjoining dressing room, positioning himself in the shadows where he could peer through the gap in the door. The sight that greeted him stole the air from his lungs.

Dipa was on their bed, naked, a wild, ecstatic expression on her face. And on top of her, between her, and around her, were the three beggars.

Rohan: Look at this high-class meat! Spreading her legs for us! You like this, don't you, Memsahab? You like being filled by a dirty beggar?

Dipa: Yes! Oh God, yes! Fuck my cunt, Rohan! Fill it!

Rohan was pounding into her, his rhythm brutal. Beside them, Vijay and Kiran were focused entirely on her magnificent breasts.

Vijay: Fuck, look at these tits! They’re so heavy! I want to suck them until they’re dry.

Kiran: Squeeze them harder! Let more milk come out! I want to taste it while he fucks her!

Sameer watched, his own cock straining painfully in his trousers, as Vijay bit Dipa’s nipple. She screamed, a sound of pure, agonized pleasure.

Dipa: Yes! Bite me! Hurt me! Treat me like the whore I am!

Rohan grunted, his pace quickening.

Rohan: I’m cumming, you rich slut! I’m going to fill your pretty pussy with my beggar seed!

Dipa: Give it to me! All of it! Please!

Sameer watched, his hand clamped over his own mouth to stifle a groan, as Rohan roared and emptied himself deep inside his wife. Dipa’s body convulsed around him, her own orgasm ripping through her. Rohan pulled out, and Vijay
immediately took his place.

Vijay: My turn, you milky bitch. Now I’m going to fuck you while Kiran drinks from you.

Kiran latched onto her breast, suckling like a hungry animal, while Vijay slammed into her, his cock sliding easily into her already flooded cunt. Sameer could do nothing but watch, a silent, helpless, and ecstatically aroused spectator to his wife’s brutal gang-bang. He saw the look on her face it wasn't pain or fear. It was pure, unadulterated bliss.

Dipa: Oh, fuck, yes! Your cock feels so good! Pound me harder!

Vijay: You love this, don’t you? You love being passed around by us slum dogs.

Dipa: I love it! Please… cum in me too! Fill me up!

Vijay obliged a few minutes later, adding his own load to Rohan’s inside her. Then it was Kiran’s turn. By now, Dipa was a slick, trembling mess, her mind completely gone, her body just a vessel for their lust. Kiran fucked her with a slow, grinding rhythm, savoring every moment.

Kiran: You’re all mine now, Memsahab. Full of my friends’ cum. Now you take mine.

He came with a final, deep thrust, and Dipa screamed, her third massive orgasm shaking the bed.
They were on top of her, a heap of sweaty, spent bodies. Sameer stayed hidden, his own body trembling in the aftermath of what he had witnessed. After a few minutes, the beggars stirred.

Rohan: That was good. The best yet.

Vijay: She’s a fucking animal. I love it.

Kiran: We should go.
They pulled on their filthy clothes. Dipa lay on the bed, looking utterly ravaged and incredibly beautiful.

Dipa: (a weak, breathy voice) Come again soon. And next time… bring your friends.

The beggars laughed, then slipped out of the house. The front door clicked shut. The house was silent again.
Sameer remained in the dressing room, his mind a whirlwind. She had enjoyed it. Every brutal, degrading second. She had begged for it. And she had invited them back… with friends. It wasn't about charity. It wasn't about healing.

It was about lust. Is it the smell of their sweat? he wondered. The dirty look? The danger? What is it that she loves so much?

He watched as Dipa slowly, painfully, sat up. She didn’t look ashamed. She looked sated. Powerful. She swung her legs off the bed, her cunt dripping a mixture of their semen onto the expensive sheets. She didn't seem to notice or care. She went to her bedside table, took out a packet of wet wipes, and began to calmly clean herself, wiping the cum from her belly and thighs.

Then, she did something that shattered Sameer’s world completely. She opened the drawer again and took out a long, thick, purple vibrator. She lay back on the bed, spread her legs wide, and pushed it deep inside herself.

Dipa: (a low, hungry moan) Not enough… it’s never enough…

Sameer watched in stunned disbelief as his wife, having just been brutally gang-banged by three men, began to masturbate with a frantic, desperate energy. She rode the toy, her hips bucking, her moans growing louder, until she climaxed again, a long, shuddering orgasm that left her panting and slick with a new layer of sweat. She did it again. And again. He watched her bring herself to climax three more times, each one more violent and desperate than the last.
Finally, she lay still, the vibrator falling from her hand. She was breathing heavily, a look of blissful exhaustion on her face.

Then, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. Sameer’s heart sank. Was she calling him? Was she going to confess?
He listened as she dialed. Her voice, when she spoke, was not the voice of a sated lover. It was low, seductive, and full of a new, fresh hunger.

Dipa: Usman… it’s me. I was just thinking about you. I was missing you badly… No, I’m not busy tonight. Sameer is working late… Yes, I want you to. Come at nine. I’ll be waiting.

She hung up the phone. She had just been ravaged by three men, had brought herself to orgasm multiple times, and now she was arranging for another lover to come in a few hours.

Sameer slid down the wall in the dressing room, a silent laugh escaping his lips. It wasn't a laugh of joy. It was a laugh of pure, unadulterated despair and the most profound, soul-shattering arousal he had ever known. He was not a cuckold. She was an addict....his wife… his beautiful, depraved wife… and she calls herself a Healer, they call her a goddess. 

And who I am ? Sameer asked himself, I am the dealer. And he would do anything for another hit. To watch her get pounded again and again.

[Vissle]

Usman and Dipa not love story but only lust and animal wild sex

[pvn95]

What a story !!!!! Dipa is a whore