Fantasy Devika, a rich high class housewife, with angel heart

[prady12191]

The tension hung thick between them, heavy as monsoon clouds. Vishnu's gaze dropped, lingering on the soft curve of her cleavage. Devika shifted uneasily, her cheeks warm as she crossed her arms to shield her bust. The more she tried to cover herself, the more his eyes darkened with hunger.

"Don't hide from me," Vishnu said, leaning in closer, his voice firm yet low. "I want to feel your hips."

Devika's eyes widened, shock rippling through her. "I told you not to touch me. Looking is all I agreed to."

"How can I control myself after seeing you like this?" His voice carried an edge of desperation. "You're standing right in front of me, saree pulled down... I can't just look anymore."

"This is exactly why I didn't want to agree to your request in the first place," Devika said, her voice strained with frustration. "I knew this would happen."

"Please," Vishnu begged, his eyes never leaving hers. "Just once. I won't ask for anything else."

The desperation in his voice—the raw need—stirred something forgotten inside her. When was the last time someone had wanted her this badly? When had Rajeevan last looked at her with such unbridled desire?

"Fine," she whispered, the word escaping before she could reconsider. "But just... be quick about it."

Triumph flashed across his face. Vishnu reached out, hesitant at first, then placed his hands on her hips. The warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her saree, sending an unexpected jolt through her body.

"Your hips are so hot," he murmured, his voice thick with awe. "Such a sexy shape."

Devika stood frozen, acutely aware of her surroundings—the cramped toilet stall, the graffiti-covered walls, the faint smell of disinfectant. The absurdity of allowing her student to touch her hips in the boys' toilet struck her suddenly. What had her life become?

His fingers pressed deeper into her flesh, kneading gently. A soft moan escaped his lips as his hands moved around to the small of her back, tracing the curves there, feeling the delicate folds where her back met her hips.

"So perfect," he whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

In his office, Seenu leaned closer to the monitor, his breathing shallow. The CCTV footage showed Vishnu's hands roaming freely over Devika's body—those curves he'd only fantasized about touching. "Lucky bastard," he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away. "Getting to feel those sexy hips..."

Back in the toilet, Vishnu's exploration grew bolder. He brought one finger forward, pressing it slowly into her navel. The unexpected intimacy made Devika gasp. A warmth spread between her thighs, her body betraying her mind's protestations.

"Such a deep, round navel," Vishnu observed, his voice hushed with reverence. "So perfect."

A soft sound escaped Devika's throat—not quite a moan, but something dangerously close. She couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't face the satisfaction she knew would be written across his features. Her eyelids fluttered closed, surrendering to the sensation.

Vishnu circled his finger inside her navel, feeling the heat radiating from her core. The intimate touch sent waves of forbidden pleasure through her body. Devika instinctively pulled her stomach inward, trying to retreat from the overwhelming sensation. She pressed back, only to find herself against the dirty wall of the toilet stall, trapped between cold tiles and his warm touch.

"Don't pull away," Vishnu whispered. "You like this, don't you?"

The question hung in the air between them, unanswered yet understood.

Seenu's eyes were glued to the screen, watching Vishnu's finger disappear into Devika's navel. "God," he muttered to himself, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "He's actually putting his finger into her navel. So damn sexy to watch."

The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken desires. Devika felt herself balanced on a precipice—one step away from falling completely into a darkness from which she might never return. The sensation of his finger tracing lazy circles in her navel sent shivers racing up her spine, awakening parts of her that had long been dormant.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, finally finding her voice. "This is wrong."

But she made no move to stop him.

"Then why does it feel so right?" Vishnu countered, his finger still exploring the depth of her navel.

The question pierced through her defenses. Why indeed? Why did the touch of this young man—her student—make her feel more alive than she had in months? Why did the wrongness of it all only heighten the pleasure?

In the dim light of the boys' toilet, surrounded by crude graffiti and the ghosts of her former principles, Devika stood at a crossroads. The woman she had been—principled, professional, proper—seemed to be slipping away with each circle of Vishnu's finger, with each forbidden touch.

And somewhere, deep inside, a part of her was relieved to let that woman go.

[prady12191]

Vishnu remained kneeling before Devika, his hands gripping her hips with possessive intensity. The dim lighting in the boys' toilet cast shadows across his upturned face as he gazed at her exposed midriff. His eyes lingered on her navel, dark with desire.

"I want to kiss your navel," he said, his voice low and husky. "Please, madam. Just once."

Devika kept her eyes closed, unable to witness her own surrender. The weight of shame and forbidden excitement pressed down on her chest, making each breath laborious. She'd come too far to turn back now—first with Pathan in the lab, and now here with Vishnu.

"I know you keep asking for more favors," she said, resignation evident in her tone. "Anyway, you won't leave me alone until I fulfill your wishes. What can I do?" Her voice carried a mixture of sadness and confusion, a woman losing grip on the boundaries she once held sacred.

Vishnu's face lit up with triumph. "Thank you, madam. Thank you."

He removed his hands from her navel, a momentary relief that quickly disappeared as he repositioned his grip on her bare hips. The feel of her smooth skin beneath his palms made him shudder with anticipation. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh, testing its give, memorizing its contours.

In his office, Seenu leaned forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the CCTV monitor. His brow furrowed in confusion as he watched Vishnu kneel before Devika. What was the boy doing? The angle of the camera couldn't capture everything, but Seenu could clearly see Vishnu's hands holding Devika's hips, his face level with her midriff.

Back in the toilet, Vishnu gazed at Devika's navel with rapt attention. The small depression in her smooth stomach seemed to beckon him, an intimate space he'd dreamed of exploring.

"Such a sexy figure you have," he whispered reverently. "All men would die for such a navel."

For the first time since this encounter began, a faint smile tugged at Devika's lips. The compliment—crude as it was—struck something deep within her. When was the last time someone had looked at her body with such open admiration? When had Rajeevan last noticed her, really noticed her?

Vishnu leaned forward and blew gently into her navel. The sudden cool sensation against her warm skin drew an unexpected moan from Devika's throat. The sound echoed softly against the tiled walls of the toilet, a forbidden melody that made Vishnu's grip tighten reflexively.

He pressed his nose against her belly, inhaling deeply. The scent of her—a mixture of subtle perfume, soap, and something uniquely feminine—filled his nostrils. His eyes closed in ecstasy.

"Your smell is making me mad," he groaned, his voice muffled against her skin. "You smell so perfect."

Slowly, with reverence bordering on worship, he pressed his lips against her navel. The contact was electric. Devika gasped, her body tensing at the intimate touch. Vishnu pressed his face more firmly into her waist, his lips exploring the sensitive depression of her navel.

The assault of sensations became too much for Devika to bear standing. Her hand instinctively reached down to grasp his hair, steadying herself against the onslaught of forbidden pleasure. Her fingers tangled in his thick strands, not pushing him away but holding him in place—an unconscious betrayal of her stated boundaries.

Vishnu's hands pressed harder into her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh with increasing urgency.

"Ouch!" Devika moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure in a confusing cocktail of sensations.

"Super, madam," Vishnu murmured between kisses. "Your navel is perfect."

Seenu could now understand what was happening. The boy had knelt to kiss her navel—a level of intimacy that shocked even him. His mouth went dry as he watched Vishnu's face buried against Devika's stomach, her hands in his hair. A wave of jealousy washed over him, followed by a surge of arousal so intense it made him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Vishnu pressed his cheek against Devika's waist, rubbing slowly against the smooth skin. "So soft," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Devika felt the scratch of his beard stubble against her sensitive skin, a masculine roughness that contrasted sharply with her softness. The textural difference sent shivers racing up her spine, igniting nerve endings she'd forgotten existed.

He buried his face deeper into her waist, rubbing his features against her as if trying to imprint himself on her skin. "Sexy teacher," he moaned, his voice vibrating against her flesh. "Such a sexy woman. Your husband doesn't know your value."

The mention of Rajeevan cut through Devika's haze of sensation. "Don't talk about my husband," she said sharply, a flicker of her former authority returning.

"If I were your husband," Vishnu continued, ignoring her protest, "I would kiss this navel daily."

The statement sent an uncomfortable shiver through Devika. A student thinking of himself as her husband—the impropriety of it should have disgusted her completely. Instead, she found herself imagining such a reality, where someone would worship her body with this level of devotion every day.

Before she could fully process this troubling thought, Vishnu's mouth became more insistent. His kisses grew vigorous, passionate, desperate. His teeth grazed her skin, and suddenly he bit down on the soft flesh of her waist.

"Ah!" Devika cried out, more surprised than hurt. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry," Vishnu mumbled against her skin, not sounding sorry at all. "I got carried away."

As his mouth continued its exploration, Devika's mind wandered to her encounter with Pathan in the lab. If Vishnu had asked for a kiss on the lips instead, would she have agreed? After allowing Pathan to claim her mouth, would she have surrendered her lips to Vishnu as well? The realization that she probably would have shook her to her core.

And this—this intimate worship of her navel—was somehow more invasive than what Pathan had done. More personal, more degrading, and yet infinitely more arousing.

Vishnu's mouth moved with increasing hunger, sucking at the flesh around her navel, leaving small red marks that would fade before anyone could see them—physical evidence of her fall from grace. His tongue circled her navel before dipping inside, exploring the small depression like a snail seeking shelter.

The wetness of his mouth, the heat of his breath, the soft suction of his lips—all combined to create a maelstrom of sensation that had Devika unconsciously rubbing her thighs together, seeking relief from the building pressure between her legs.

"Be my wife," Vishnu murmured between kisses. "I want to suck this navel daily."

The absurdity of the request broke through Devika's sensual fog. "I can't be your wife," she said, her voice strained. "I'm already married. Stop kissing me now."

But Vishnu showed no signs of stopping. His mouth continued its devoted exploration, his tongue delving into her navel again and again, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin until Devika felt her knees weakening beneath her.

The entire surface of her waist glistened with his saliva, her navel filled with the warm wetness of his mouth. The physical evidence of his desire for her was painted across her skin, marking her as thoroughly as any wedding ritual could have.

"Madam, you're lean," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "but you have enough flesh in all the right places to make men of any age go mad for your body."

The crude compliment should have offended her professional sensibilities. Instead, it stirred something primal within her—a feminine pride in her power to drive men to such distraction. Coming from her student—this young man who had his pick of girls his own age—the words carried a weight that similar compliments from older men like Seenu never could.

In his office, Seenu could barely contain himself. His hand moved to the front of his pants, rubbing against his erection through the fabric. The sight of Vishnu's face buried in Devika's waist, her hands in his hair, her body responding to his touch—it was the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed.

"I'll stop kissing," Vishnu said, his mouth still pressed against her navel, "only if you agree to be my wife."

"No," Devika protested, trying to push him away. Her hands pressed against his shoulders, but her effort lacked conviction.

Vishnu looked up at her, his lips wet with saliva, his eyes burning with determination. "Devika, you are my wife."

The sound of her name—not "madam" or "professor" but her given name—spoken with such intimate possession sent a shock through her system. The boundary between teacher and student had not just been crossed; it had been obliterated completely.

Desperate to end this encounter before she lost herself entirely, Devika made a calculated surrender. "Fine, Vishnu. My husband, stop kissing. Your wife needs rest."

A triumphant smile spread across Vishnu's face. He pressed one final, lingering kiss against her navel before rising to his feet. "Thanks, baby," he said, his voice tender with newfound intimacy. "Love you, Devika darling. My sexy wife." He sealed his declaration with a last, quick kiss to her navel.

Devika stood frozen, her saree disheveled, her midriff glistening with the evidence of Vishnu's passion. What had she done? In trying to end this inappropriate encounter, had she inadvertently opened the door to something far more dangerous? By playing along with his fantasy, had she established a new reality between them—one where he truly believed he had some claim on her?

The air in the toilet stall felt suddenly stifling. The smell of disinfectant mixed with the musky scent of arousal made her stomach turn. The graffiti on the walls—crude drawings and vulgar phrases—seemed to mock her fall from grace.

"We should go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she adjusted her saree, covering the damp skin of her waist. "Someone might come in."

Vishnu's eyes followed her movements, watching as the fabric concealed the territory he now considered his own. "Yes," he agreed, but made no move toward the door. "Devika?"

The use of her name again—so intimate, so presumptuous—made her flinch. "Don't call me that," she said. "I'm still your teacher."

"But you just agreed to be my wife," he countered, confusion clouding his features.

"That was just..." Devika trailed off, unsure how to explain. How could she tell him she had only said what was necessary to end the encounter? That she had played along with his fantasy to escape a situation spiraling out of control? "That was just words, Vishnu. I'm married to someone else. I'm your teacher. What happened here was inappropriate and can never happen again."

A shadow passed over Vishnu's face. The boyish triumph gave way to something harder, colder. "You didn't seem to think it was inappropriate when my tongue was in your navel," he said, his voice low. "You didn't push me away then."

Guilt washed over Devika, because he was right. She hadn't pushed him away. She had held his hair, moaned at his touch, allowed him liberties no student should ever take with a teacher. Worse, she had enjoyed it—the forbidden nature of their encounter adding a spice that had been missing from her life for far too long.

"This was a mistake," she said finally, straightening her shoulders and attempting to reclaim some semblance of authority. "One that won't be repeated."

"We'll see," Vishnu replied, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My wife."

The possessive declaration hung in the air between them as Devika pushed past him and out of the toilet stall. Her legs trembled beneath her, weak from the intensity of what had transpired. Her waist still felt warm where his mouth had been, her skin sensitized by his attention.

As she hurried down the corridor, she could feel Vishnu's eyes on her back, following her retreat. The weight of his gaze seemed to burn through her saree, branding her as his property. The sensation was both terrifying and thrilling—a contradiction that summed up everything she had become since arriving in Pune.

In his office, Seenu switched off the monitor, his breathing ragged, his body still tense with unfulfilled desire. He had witnessed something he was never meant to see—an intimate moment between a teacher and student that crossed every professional boundary.

The knowledge gave him power, but it also gave him ideas. If Vishnu could reduce the proper, professional Devika to such a state of surrender, what might Seenu himself accomplish with the right approach?

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he would call Devika to his office for a "performance review." And perhaps, if fortune favored him, he too would discover the taste of her navel, the softness of her waist, the sound of her forbidden moans.

As Devika reached the staff room, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window. Her hair was slightly mussed, her lips parted, her eyes wide with lingering shock. But beyond the physical signs of her encounter, there was something else—something new in her expression. A knowledge of her own power, a recognition of the desire she could inspire.

For the first time since coming to Pune, Devika didn't feel like a victim. She felt dangerous.

[Prabhas Rasigan]

How did the camera come in student toilet. Is that vishnu used his phone to telecast to seenu.

[Sage_69]

After a long break, came a long update. Loved it. Devika is loosing the control of the situation. Wanna see how deep she will fall.

[Prabhas Rasigan]

She easily gives up and she is a slutty heart and not angel heart. Looks like every person who eyes her will get a chance on her. like seenu, ramlal etc. waiting to see how she transforms to a roadside whore. good going.

[jaksa]

20 sooo nice

[Thilka]

Great update

[StoryReader1]

Pl cont

[Srikanthitis]

The Best Story is back... Thanks a ton mate