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

[prady12191]

The week that followed crawled by with agonizing slowness. Days blurred into one another, each morning bringing the same routine—preparing lectures, facing classrooms full of students, navigating the minefield of male attention that had become her daily existence.

Vishnu kept his distance, just as he'd promised. When they crossed paths in hallways or during lectures, his eyes would find hers briefly before sliding away, respectful of the boundaries she'd drawn. The restraint surprised her. She'd expected pushiness, demands, threats perhaps. Instead, he gave her space.

Pathan was different.

Each time she passed him in the corridor, Devika found herself offering a small smile—barely there, just a curve of lips that acknowledged his presence without inviting conversation. Pathan would grin back, that familiar crude confidence lighting his features, but he too seemed content to wait.

Saradha became her anchor during those uncertain days. They'd meet in the staff room during breaks, sharing chai and whispered conversations that always circled back to the same warnings.

"Stay strong," Saradha would say, her hand squeezing Devika's briefly. "Don't let them manipulate you again."

"I know. I'm trying."

"Remember—you have the power. They want you. Don't give it away so easily."

Devika would nod, absorbing the advice like a shield against her own weakness. But even as she agreed with Saradha's wisdom, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered doubts.

Seenu remained frustratingly absent. Department meetings pulled him away, administrative duties consumed his schedule. The few times Devika glimpsed him in the hallways, he'd offer a distracted wave before disappearing into his office. Part of her felt relieved—one less complication to navigate. But another part, the part awakened by whiskey and forbidden touch, felt strangely abandoned.

By Friday evening, exhaustion settled into Devika's bones. She returned to her empty apartment, kicked off her sandals, and collapsed onto the sofa with a defeated sigh. The walls seemed to press inward, emphasizing the loneliness that had become her constant companion.

She turned on the television without really caring what played. Some romantic film filled the screen—a couple dancing in the rain, their bodies pressed close, desire palpable in every movement. Devika watched with detached interest at first, her mind wandering to meal planning and tomorrow's lesson prep.

Then a scene shifted. The couple stumbled into a bedroom, clothes shedding, hands exploring with desperate urgency. The camera panned across skin, lingered on curves and muscles, captured the raw intimacy of two bodies coming together.

Heat bloomed low in Devika's belly.

She tried to look away, to change the channel, but her hand remained frozen on the remote. Images flooded her mind unbidden—not the actors on screen, but memories far more visceral.

Vishnu's hands gripping her waist. Dattu's weathered lips against hers. The weight of their bodies pressing her into the mattress. The stretch and burn as they filled her completely.

"No," she whispered to the empty room. "Stop thinking about it."

But the memories refused to obey. Each detail surfaced with crystalline clarity—the taste of whiskey on Dattu's tongue, the way Vishnu had whispered her name while inside her, the sensation of fingers exploring territory no one else had ever touched.

Devika's breathing quickened. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her blouse, sensitive to even the slightest friction. Between her thighs, moisture gathered—her body responding with shameless eagerness to thoughts that should have filled her with guilt.

She squeezed her legs together, trying to quell the ache building there. It didn't help. If anything, the pressure intensified the sensation, making her squirm against the sofa cushions.

"This is wrong," she told herself firmly. "You're better than this."

But her hand had already moved, sliding beneath the folds of her saree, seeking the heat that pulsed with increasing urgency. Her fingers found slick flesh, swollen and ready, and a moan escaped her throat before she could stop it.

"Vishnu..."

The name slipped out unbidden, flavored with longing. Her fingers circled her clit with practiced efficiency, building rhythm that matched the throbbing between her legs.

"Dattu..."

Another moan, this one deeper, more desperate. She imagined his rough hands on her body, his experienced touch coaxing pleasure from depths she hadn't known existed.

Guilt surged through the arousal—sharp and acidic. What kind of woman masturbated while thinking about her student and his father? What had she become?

But even the shame couldn't stop the need. Her body had tasted something forbidden and now craved it with relentless hunger. The conservative walls she'd built around herself—years of traditional upbringing, marital duty, professional propriety—had crumbled the moment she'd allowed those two men to touch her.

Once you explore sex with someone other than your husband, she realized with startling clarity, the fears fade. The boundaries dissolve. And the wanting only grows stronger.

Her lonely nights in this Pune apartment, waiting for Rajeevan's brief video calls filled with lies and empty promises, had primed her for this fall. She'd been starving without realizing it, and Vishnu and Dattu had offered a feast.

Now her body remembered. Demanded more.

Devika's thoughts shifted, seeking safer territory. Seenu's face appeared in her mind—the HOD who watched her with barely concealed hunger, who'd kissed her in his office, who clearly desired her but lacked Vishnu's boldness or Dattu's raw intensity.

Pathan's image followed. The crude student who'd cornered her in the lab, forced a kiss that she'd both resisted and returned, watched adult films with her while his hands explored her body with increasing confidence.

Both wanted her. Both had made their intentions clear. Maybe...

"Why not Pathan?" she whispered aloud, testing the idea.

Yes. Pathan made sense. He'd already crossed boundaries with her—the kiss, the videos, the touches that grew bolder each time. He was younger than Dattu, more controlled than Vishnu, less complicated than Seenu with his position of authority.

She could trust him. Couldn't she?

Her fingers moved faster now, pressing deeper as arousal built toward inevitable release. In her mind's eye, she saw Pathan's lean body, felt his eager hands on her skin, imagined him pushing inside her with the desperate hunger he'd shown in every stolen glance.

"Yes, Pathan," she moaned to the empty room, lost in fantasy. "I know how much you're trying to be good. How hard you're studying."

Her back arched off the sofa, thighs trembling as pleasure coiled tighter.

"Tomorrow you'll get your chance," she gasped out, fingers working frantically between her legs. "You can fuck your dream Malayali girl as hard as you need—"

The orgasm hit with devastating force, ripping through her body in waves of sensation that left her gasping and shaking. Moisture flooded her fingers as she squirted, soaking through her saree onto the sofa cushions beneath her.

For several long moments, Devika lay boneless and spent, her breathing ragged in the silent apartment. The television continued its romantic drama, oblivious to the far more explicit scene that had just unfolded on her sofa.

Slowly, reality crept back in. The post-orgasmic haze lifted, leaving shame in its wake.

"What am I doing?" she whispered, sitting up shakily.

She'd just masturbated while fantasizing about her students. Plural. She'd promised herself—actually spoken aloud—that Pathan would "get his chance" tomorrow.

Devika stood on unsteady legs and made her way to the bathroom. She cleaned herself mechanically, avoiding her reflection in the mirror as if eye contact might force her to confront truths she wasn't ready to face.

Back in the bedroom, she changed into a nightgown and climbed beneath the covers. The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a white noise that failed to quiet her racing thoughts.

She needed men. Needed their touch, their desire, their validation. The realization settled over her like a heavy blanket—uncomfortable but undeniable.

All she wanted was a dick and romance. The crude thought made her wince, but its honesty cut through every rationalization she'd constructed.

Pathan. Tomorrow she would seduce Pathan.

But how? She couldn't simply call him and demand he fuck her. That would give him too much power, too much leverage. He'd take advantage, tell his friends, maybe even blackmail her for more.

No. It had to be subtle. Calculated. She needed to make him feel like the aggressor while maintaining control of the situation.

Scenarios played through her mind, each more complicated than the last. Perhaps she could summon him for extra tutoring? No, too obvious. Pretend to need help with something? He'd see through that immediately.

Maybe during a practical class, when they were already in close proximity...

Her thoughts grew fuzzy as exhaustion finally claimed her. Sleep pulled her under before she could formulate a complete plan, leaving only the certainty that tomorrow would bring another boundary crossed, another line erased.

In the darkness of her bedroom, Devika slept fitfully, her dreams filled with hands and mouths and the weight of bodies pressing her into surrender.

[prady12191]

The ceiling fan's rhythmic whir pulled Devika from restless dreams at half past two in the morning. She lay tangled in her nightgown, sheets twisted around her legs, her body still humming with residual arousal that sleep had failed to quiet.

Pathan's face lingered in her mind—not the crude boy who leered at her in corridors, but the version she'd constructed in fantasy. Eager. Hungry. Controllable.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen's harsh light making her squint in the darkness. Her thumb moved through apps without conscious thought until she found herself staring at WhatsApp.

The green dot glowed beside Pathan's name.

Online. At this hour.

Devika's heart hammered against her ribs as she opened the chat window. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, rational thought warring with the ache between her thighs that masturbation had only temporarily satisfied.

This is insane, she told herself. Don't do it.

But her fingers were already typing.

Devika: Hi

She hit send before courage could abandon her, then immediately regretted it. What was she thinking? Messaging a student at two-thirty in the morning? The implications alone—

Three dots appeared almost instantly. Pathan was typing.

Pathan: ❤️

The heart emoji burned on her screen like an accusation. Heat flooded Devika's cheeks even in the privacy of her dark bedroom. She typed quickly, fingers trembling.

Devika: I'm your teacher. Don't send such emojis.

A pause. Then:

Pathan: Sorry ma'am. But I can't believe you messaged me. That too at this time. Why?

Devika bit her lip, considering her response. She couldn't admit the truth—that she'd been touching herself while thinking of him, that loneliness and desire had driven her to this reckless contact.

Devika: Simply couldn't sleep. So just checked my phone.

The lie felt transparent even as she typed it. She added quickly:

Devika: Why are you still online? Chatting with your girlfriend?

The mockery in the question surprised her—a flirtation she hadn't intended but couldn't take back.

Pathan: I don't have any girlfriend.

Devika: ?

Her shock emoji sent before she could reconsider. Why did his admission please her? What did it matter if Pathan was single?

Devika: Then what are you doing awake at this hour?

The three dots appeared and disappeared several times, as if he was typing and deleting responses. Finally:

Pathan: Watching porn movies.

Devika stared at the message, scandalized yet unsurprised. Of course that's what he was doing. Young men like Pathan—crude, oversexed, constantly leering at women's bodies—this was exactly how they spent their lonely nights.

Just like she'd spent hers. Touching herself. Fantasizing.

The parallel made her stomach clench with uncomfortable recognition.

Devika: ? Don't watch those movies. They're not good for you.

Pathan: I'll try, ma'am.

The meekness in his response felt calculated, as if he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. Devika imagined him on the other end—lying in his hostel bed, phone in one hand while the other...

She shook her head sharply, dispelling the image.

Devika: Good night, Pathan.

There. Conversation ended. She could put the phone down, go back to sleep, pretend this midnight contact had never happened.

Pathan: Good night, ma'am.

Devika set the phone on the nightstand and closed her eyes, willing sleep to claim her. But her mind raced too fast, thoughts spinning in dizzying circles. The ache between her thighs had returned with renewed intensity, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

Ten minutes crawled by. Fifteen.

She grabbed the phone again, checking WhatsApp with trembling fingers. The green dot still glowed beside Pathan's name.

Still online. Still awake. Probably still watching those videos.

Her fingers moved before rational thought could intervene.

Devika: Pathan

The reply came within seconds.

Pathan: Yes ma'am, please tell

The formal politeness contrasted sharply with their earlier exchange. He was being careful now, respectful, giving her space to lead wherever this conversation might go.

Devika's mouth went dry. She'd opened this door but hadn't prepared what to say beyond it. Her mind scrambled for an excuse, a legitimate reason to continue messaging her student at three in the morning.

Devika: Tomorrow I need to visit some places in Pune. Do you know any good spots?

There. Innocent enough. Just a teacher asking a local student for recommendations.

Pathan: Shaniwar Wada, Aga Khan Palace, Sinhagad Fort. Or if you want nature, Pawna Lake is beautiful.

Pawna Lake. The name stirred something in Devika's memory—hadn't she seen photos online? A serene body of water surrounded by hills, perfect for quiet contemplation away from the city's chaos.

Devika: Tell me about Pawna Lake.

Pathan: It's about 60km from here. Very peaceful. The water reflects the sky like a mirror. In evening the sunset is amazing. There are camping spots too if people want to stay overnight.

Devika read his message twice, her heart rate accelerating with each word. Sixty kilometers. Far from the college. Far from prying eyes and whispered gossip.

Her next words formed with dangerous clarity.

Devika: My scooter is at the repair shop. I can't go.

She hit send and immediately regretted the transparency of her statement. It was too obvious—the problem presented with no solution, an invitation disguised as an obstacle.

The three dots appeared and disappeared multiple times. Pathan was being cautious, she realized. He understood the game but didn't want to overstep.

Finally:

Pathan: If you don't mind, I can drop you there on my bike.

Devika stared at the message, pulse thundering in her ears. This was it—the line she'd been circling since the conversation began. Cross it, and there would be no pretending this was innocent teacher-student interaction.

Devika: It won't be nice. A teacher going somewhere with a student. People might talk.

Pathan: Ok ma'am. I understand.

The acceptance stung more than she'd expected. Part of her had wanted him to push, to insist, to take the decision out of her hands. Instead he'd respected her boundary, leaving her to sit with the want that gnawed at her insides.

Minutes ticked by. Devika lay in the darkness, phone clutched against her chest, fighting a battle she'd already lost.

What harm could it do? Just a trip to a lake. A brief escape from the suffocating walls of her apartment and the judgmental stares at college. Pathan had been studying hard, his grades improving. This could be... a reward. Yes. A reward for his academic efforts.

The rationalization settled over her guilt like a blanket, smothering objections.

Devika: Ok.

One word. Two letters. The heaviest message she'd ever sent.

Pathan: ?

The happy emoji appeared immediately, boyish enthusiasm breaking through his careful politeness.

Devika: Be ready in the evening. Around 4pm.

Pathan: Yes ma'am! I'll pick you up from your apartment?

Devika: No. Near the college main gate. Don't tell anyone.

Pathan: I won't tell anyone, ma'am. Promise.

Devika: Good night, Pathan.

Pathan: Good night ma'am. Sweet dreams.

Devika set the phone down with shaking hands. The deed was done. Tomorrow evening she would climb onto Pathan's motorcycle and ride sixty kilometers to a secluded lake where no one from college would see them.

Just sightseeing, she told herself firmly. Nothing inappropriate. Just a teacher helping a student feel appreciated for his improved performance.

But as she pulled the sheets up to her chin and closed her eyes, Devika knew she was lying. The wetness between her thighs, the racing of her heart, the way her body already anticipated tomorrow's possibilities—these told the truth her mind refused to acknowledge.

Tomorrow she would cross another line. And unlike the drunken night with Vishnu and Dattu that she could blame on alcohol and emotional vulnerability, this would be premeditated. Calculated.

A choice made in full awareness of its consequences.

Sleep finally claimed her in the early hours of morning, her dreams filled with motorcycle rides and sunset-painted water and hands exploring her body in places where no one could hear her moans.



Across the city, in a cramped hostel room that smelled of sweat and cheap cigarettes, Pathan stared at his phone screen with disbelieving joy.

Devika had messaged him. At three in the morning. And agreed to spend tomorrow evening alone with him at Pawna Lake.

His cock strained against his shorts, hard and aching from the porn he'd been watching before her unexpected contact. But now he ignored the videos still playing on mute, his entire focus on the chat window.

She wanted him. The realization sent electricity through his veins. All the careful studying, the restraint when he wanted to grab her in hallways, the patient waiting while Vishnu got to touch her—it was finally paying off.

Vishnu had bragged about their night together, the details graphic enough to make Pathan's jealousy burn hot and fierce. His friend had fucked their biology professor. Had explored her body. Had made her moan.

But now it was Pathan's turn.

Tomorrow at Pawna Lake, with hours of isolation and a willing Devika, he would claim what Vishnu had already tasted. Would prove himself just as capable of satisfying the beautiful Kerala professor who haunted his every waking thought.

He saved their entire conversation with trembling fingers, screen-shotting each message as evidence this wasn't a dream. Then he set an alarm for early morning—he'd need time to prepare, to clean his bike, to make sure everything was perfect for their trip.

As he finally drifted toward sleep, Pathan's last conscious thought was of Devika's body beneath him at the lakeside, sunset painting her brown skin gold as he pushed inside her for the first time.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be his.

[prady12191]

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, pulling Devika from sleep at half past eight. She blinked against the brightness, disoriented for a moment before memory flooded back—the midnight messages, Pathan's bike, Pawna Lake at sunset.

Heat rushed to her cheeks.

"What was I thinking?" she whispered to the empty bedroom.

But even as guilt tugged at her conscience, anticipation fluttered low in her belly. Four o'clock. She had hours to prepare, to convince herself this was innocent sightseeing and nothing more.

The morning passed in a blur of nervous energy. Devika showered longer than necessary, scrubbing her skin until it glowed pink. She ate breakfast without tasting it, pushed lecture notes around her desk without reading them, checked her phone obsessively for messages that didn't come.

By noon, restlessness drove her to the kitchen. She prepared lunch mechanically—rice, sambar, vegetable thoran—the familiar Kerala flavors offering small comfort. But each bite sat heavy in her stomach, weighed down by anticipation and apprehension in equal measure.

At three o'clock, her phone buzzed.

Pathan: Getting ready now, ma'am. Will reach by 4.

Devika stared at the message, her heart accelerating. This was real. Happening. In one hour she would climb onto his motorcycle and ride away from everything safe and familiar.

Devika: Ok.

She moved to the bedroom with trembling hands. The wardrobe stood before her, filled with conservative salwar kameez sets and modest sarees in muted tones. For a moment she reached for her usual choice—a simple cotton saree in pale blue, the kind she wore to temple visits and family gatherings.

Then her fingers shifted, landing on silk in deep burgundy.

The saree slid through her hands like water, the fabric whispering promises of transformation. She hadn't worn this one since moving to Pune—it had seemed too bold, too attention-seeking for a college professor trying to maintain professional boundaries.

But those boundaries had already shattered.

Devika dbangd the saree with practiced efficiency, pleating it at her waist and securing it low on her hips—the Pune style Saradha had taught her. Each fold revealed more skin, the gap between blouse hem and saree edge growing wider until several inches of her midriff lay exposed.

The blouse came next. Sleeveless. Deep-cut in back. She'd bought it on impulse during a shopping trip with Saradha, then hidden it at the back of her drawer, too scandalized to actually wear it.

Now she pulled it on, adjusting the fit across her breasts, feeling the air kiss her bare shoulders and arms. The mirror reflected someone unfamiliar—a woman who looked like she was preparing for a date rather than an educational outing.

Makeup followed. Kajal darkening her eyes. Lipstick in deep rose. A bindi perfectly centered. Small gold earrings catching the light.

By the time four o'clock approached, Devika barely recognized herself.

Her phone buzzed again.

Pathan: Reached the college gate.

Devika: Coming.

She grabbed her purse, locked the apartment door, and descended the stairs with her heart hammering against her ribs. Each step felt momentous, carrying her toward a precipice she couldn't quite see but knew existed just ahead.

The college gate came into view. Pathan stood beside his motorcycle, checking his phone, oblivious to her approach. He wore jeans and a fitted black shirt that emphasized his lean frame, his hair carefully styled instead of the usual disheveled mess.

He'd dressed up too.

The realization sent a nervous thrill through Devika's chest.

Pathan looked up as she approached. His eyes widened, jaw going slack as he took in the full picture—the silk saree hugging her curves, the exposed midriff gleaming in late afternoon sun, her bare arms moving with unconscious grace.

His gaze traveled slowly downward, lingering on her waist where the saree sat dangerously low, then sliding along her sleeveless blouse to shoulders that had never been so brazenly displayed.

Devika stopped a few feet away, watching him process her transformation. A smile tugged at her lips despite her nervousness.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"Nothing." The word came out strangled. Pathan cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away with visible effort. "You... you look beautiful, ma'am."

"Thank you."

The formal exchange couldn't hide the electricity crackling between them. Devika moved closer, her saree rustling with each step, and gestured toward the bike.

"Should we go?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." Pathan fumbled with the helmet, nearly dropping it before managing to hand it to her. "Here."

Devika secured the helmet, then paused beside the motorcycle. Getting on would require hiking her saree up, revealing her legs, pressing her body against Pathan's back. The intimacy of it made her breath catch.

But she'd come this far.

With practiced grace born of months riding her own scooter, Devika climbed onto the bike's pillion seat. The saree rode up to mid-thigh, silk pooling around her knees. She reached forward, wrapping her arms around Pathan's waist, her palms flat against his stomach.

The position pressed her breasts against his back, her thighs bracketing his hips. Heat radiated between them despite the layers of clothing.

Pathan's entire body tensed at the contact. He turned his head slightly, voice rough when he spoke.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes." Devika's lips were inches from his ear. "Let's go."

The motorcycle roared to life. Pathan pulled onto the road with careful control, navigating through Pune's evening traffic while Devika clung to him like a lover rather than a teacher.

They rode in silence for several minutes, the city gradually giving way to quieter roads lined with trees. Wind whipped at Devika's saree, pulling strands of hair loose from her braid. She tightened her grip on Pathan's waist, allowing herself to relax into the motion.

"Ma'am?" Pathan's voice barely carried over the engine noise.

"Yes?"

"Today is my birthday."

Devika's arms tightened reflexively. "Your birthday? Really?"

"Yes. I'm feeling so great spending it like this."

Emotion swelled in Devika's chest—part tenderness, part guilt. He'd chosen to spend his birthday with her. Not friends his own age, not celebrating at the hostel with cheap liquor and loud music. With her.

"Happy birthday, Pathan," she said softly, her lips close enough to his ear that he shivered.

"Thank you, ma'am."

They rode in silence for another kilometer before Devika spoke again.

"It won't be nice if you're not having cake cutting on your birthday."

"It's okay—"

"No." She squeezed his waist firmly. "Stop at the next cake shop you see."

Pathan slowed the bike, surprise evident in his posture. "Ma'am, you don't need to—"

"I want to."

The simple declaration silenced his protests. Within minutes they'd pulled up outside a small bakery, its windows displaying colorful confections. Devika dismounted gracefully despite the restrictive saree, ignoring the curious stares of passersby who clearly wondered about the elegant woman with the young man on the motorcycle.

Inside, she selected a small chocolate cake decorated with simple white frosting. The baker boxed it efficiently while Pathan stood beside her, stunned into silence.

"We'll celebrate your birthday at the lake," Devika announced, paying before he could protest. "Under the stars."

Pathan's eyes blazed with something beyond gratitude—something hungry and desperate and barely controlled.

"Thank you," he managed. "This... no one's done anything like this for me before."

The confession twisted something in Devika's chest. She handed him the cake box, their fingers brushing in the exchange.

"Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday."

They returned to the bike, the cake secured carefully in the compartment. This time when Devika wrapped her arms around Pathan's waist, she allowed herself to press closer, her cheek resting against his shoulder blade as they continued toward Pawna Lake.

The sun hung low on the horizon when they finally arrived, painting the water in shades of amber and rose. Devika dismounted stiffly, her legs protesting the long ride, and removed her helmet with shaking hands.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

The lake stretched before them like a mirror, reflecting sky and clouds with perfect clarity. Hills rose in the distance, their silhouettes dark against the fading light. Few people wandered the shore—mostly couples seeking privacy, families packing up after day trips.

Pathan retrieved the cake, then gestured toward a path leading along the water's edge.

"Come. I'll show you the best spots."

They walked side by side, Devika's saree trailing slightly on the dusty ground. Pathan pointed out landmarks—the camping area where city dwellers pretended at roughing it, the boat rental stand closing for the evening, a small temple perched on the hillside.

Devika drank it all in, grateful for the distraction from the awareness humming between them. His presence beside her felt different out here, away from college hierarchies and professional expectations. Just a man and a woman, walking together as evening deepened to dusk.

By nine o'clock, darkness had fallen completely. Stars scattered across the sky like diamonds, their light joining the full moon's silver glow. The lake transformed into something ethereal, its surface gleaming beneath celestial illumination.

"We should head back soon," Devika said reluctantly. "It's getting late."

Pathan checked his watch, then glanced toward the entrance gate. "Let me just—"

He stopped mid-sentence. Devika followed his gaze and felt her stomach drop.

The gate stood closed. Locked. A heavy chain securing it against intruders.

"No," Pathan breathed. "They locked us in."

Devika hurried toward the entrance, her heart racing. She rattled the gate uselessly, peering through the bars at the empty guard station beyond.

"The gatekeeper must have left without seeing us," Pathan said from behind her. His voice carried appropriate distress, though something in his tone rang false. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. This is my fault."

"Do you have your phone?" Devika asked. "We can call someone—"

"I left it in the bike's compartment outside the gate." Pathan gestured helplessly at the motorcycle visible on the other side of the locked entrance. "I didn't think we'd need it inside."

Devika pulled out her own phone, but the screen showed minimal signal—one wavering bar that disappeared even as she watched.

"The tower coverage is weak here," Pathan explained. "Hills block the signal."

She tried calling anyway. The phone failed to connect, displaying an error message that mocked her growing panic.

Or was it panic?

Devika examined her own reaction carefully. Her pulse raced, yes, and worry creased her brow. But beneath those appropriate responses, something else stirred—a dark thrill at being trapped here with Pathan, away from judgment and consequence.

"I'm so worried," she said aloud, testing how the words felt. They came out uncertain, unconvincing even to her own ears.

"I'm really sorry, ma'am." Pathan moved closer, his distress appearing genuine enough. "This is all my fault. I should have been more careful about the time."

"Stop worrying." Devika turned to face him, her expression softening. "We'll just stay inside until someone comes to open the gate."

"But..." Pathan glanced around at the darkness surrounding them. "No one usually comes at night. The gate won't open again until morning."

He delivered this information with appropriate dismay, but Devika caught the calculating gleam in his eyes—there for just a moment before he shuttered it behind concern.

Understanding clicked into place. The convenient phone left outside. The weak cell signal. The gatekeeper locking up without checking for stragglers.

This wasn't an accident.

Pathan had planned this. Paid the gatekeeper probably, ensuring they'd be trapped here overnight.

The realization should have angered her. Should have sent her scrambling for escape routes or screaming for help despite the isolation.

Instead, warmth pooled low in her belly.

He wanted her badly enough to orchestrate this elaborate trap. The knowledge sent power surging through her veins—not the helpless vulnerability of a victim, but the intoxicating awareness of being desired so desperately that a man would resort to schemes.

"It's okay," she heard herself say. "We can stay here tonight."

Pathan's eyes widened. "Ma'am, I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking. I'm deciding." Devika straightened her shoulders, channeling the confidence Saradha had been coaching into her for weeks. "There's no point panicking about something we can't change. Besides..." She gestured at the moonlit lake, the stars overhead. "It's beautiful here. Not the worst place to be stranded."

"I'm so sorry for troubling you like this."

The apology rang hollow now that she'd understood his deception. But Devika chose to accept it at face value, playing along with the fiction they were constructing together.

"Stop being sad, birthday boy." She moved closer, close enough that he could smell the jasmine in her hair. "Let's celebrate your birthday here near the lake. Cut your cake under the full moonlight."

The transformation in Pathan's expression was immediate and profound. Sorrow melted into heat, his eyes traveling slowly down her body—lingering on exposed waist, bare shoulders, the curves her saree both revealed and concealed.

Under the moon's blue-white glow, Devika's beauty intensified to something almost otherworldly. Her brown skin gleamed silver, her dark eyes reflecting starlight. The burgundy saree looked black in the darkness, making her seem to emerge from shadow itself—a goddess manifesting for a mortal's birthday wish.

Pathan swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke.

"You look... I can't even describe how beautiful you are right now."

Devika smiled—not the modest, demure expression of a conservative Kerala wife, but something bolder. Knowing.

"Then don't describe it." She held out her hand. "Show me where we can celebrate."

[prady12191]

Pathan found a weathered wooden table near the water's edge, half-hidden beneath a sprawling banyan tree. The moon cast dancing shadows through the leaves, creating patterns of light and darkness across the surface. He set the cake down carefully while Devika retrieved the candles from her purse.

The mundane task of arranging birthday candles felt surreal under these circumstances—trapped at a moonlit lake, teacher and student playing at celebration while darker currents pulled beneath the surface.

Devika's fingers trembled slightly as she pressed each small candle into the chocolate frosting, their bases sinking into the sweetness. Seven candles total—a random number, symbolic rather than accurate. She pulled matches from her purse, struck one, and began lighting each wick with careful precision.

Small flames flickered to life, their warm glow competing with the moon's cold radiance. Pathan watched her work, his expression unreadable in the shifting light.

"There." Devika stepped back, surveying her handiwork. "Ready."

Pathan moved to stand before the cake but made no move toward it. He simply stared at the dancing flames as if hypnotized.

"Cut your cake," Devika prompted gently.

Still he hesitated. The silence stretched between them, filled only with the soft lap of water against the shore and the distant call of night birds.

"Before cutting..." Devika moved closer, her voice dropping to something intimate. "Do you have any wish?"

"No." The response came too quickly, too flat.

Devika tilted her head, studying him in the candlelight. Shadows carved his face into sharp planes, making him look older than his years—hungry and dangerous.

"You need to wish something on your birthday." She kept her tone light despite the heaviness settling in her chest. "Everyone makes a wish."

Pathan's jaw worked silently for several seconds. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, some internal battle playing across his features. When he finally spoke, the words emerged raw and unfiltered.

"I want to see my teacher Devika with her pallu removed." His eyes lifted to meet hers, blazing with desperate courage. "And my shirt removed. Cut cake along with her in this night like..." He swallowed hard. "Like my wife."

The confession hung between them like a physical thing—tangible and impossible to ignore.

Shock rippled through Devika's body, freezing her in place. Heat flooded her cheeks, her pulse hammering so loud she could barely hear the water lapping at the shore. Of all the things she'd anticipated him saying, this brazen demand hadn't entered her calculations.

Pathan seemed to realize he'd overstepped. His expression shifted from boldness to alarm, words tumbling out in a rush.

"Sorry, ma'am. I just joked. Please don't take seriously—"

"Don't." Devika cut him off, her voice sharper than intended. She closed the distance between them until only inches separated their bodies. "Don't tell me it's a joke."

Pathan's breath caught audibly.

Devika held his gaze, letting the moment stretch. Power coursed through her veins—the intoxicating awareness that this young man wanted her so desperately he'd confessed his deepest fantasy without filters or shame.

"Do you want me to fulfill your wish?"

The question emerged low and dangerous, flavored with implications that made Pathan's eyes widen.

"What?" The word came out strangled.

"I asked..." Devika leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "Do you want me to fulfill your birthday wish? Yes or no?"

"Yes." No hesitation this time. The single word carried the weight of months of suppressed desire.

Devika stepped back, creating space between them. Her hands moved to her shoulder where the pallu was pinned—the decorative safety pin that held the fabric in place. She removed it with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving Pathan's face.

The burgundy silk slipped from her shoulder, sliding down her arm with a whisper of sound. Devika let it fall, the pallu pooling around her waist before dbanging across one hip. The gesture left her upper body exposed—sleeveless blouse revealing bare shoulders, the deep neckline displaying the swell of her breasts, her midriff gleaming in candlelight.

Pathan couldn't believe what he was seeing. His teacher—the proper Kerala professor who maintained strict boundaries—stood before him with her pallu removed, her curvy figure fully displayed in ways that made his mouth go dry.

The blouse hugged her breasts, the fabric straining slightly with each breath. Her waist curved inward before flaring to hips wrapped in silk. The exposed navel drew his eyes like a magnet, the small hollow moving as she breathed.

The intimate exposure transformed the lakeside into something sacred and profane simultaneously.

Devika moved toward him, each step measured and deliberate. She stopped directly in front of Pathan, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

"Your turn."

Her hands reached for his shirt, fingers working the buttons with practiced efficiency. One by one they came undone, revealing the lean muscles of his chest and abdomen. The black fabric parted, and Devika pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground beside them.

Pathan stood frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly as her eyes traveled across his exposed skin. No woman had ever undressed him before—certainly not a woman like her, beautiful and educated and impossibly beyond his reach.

Yet here she was. Touching him.

"Are you happy?" Devika's voice carried a teasing edge. "Getting your wish fulfilled?"

Pathan opened his mouth to respond but no coherent words emerged. He fumbled with syllables, his brain short-circuiting from the reality of her bare shoulders inches from his face, the scent of jasmine and woman filling his lungs.

Devika smiled at his incoherence. She took his hand, her fingers warm against his palm, and led him back to the table where the birthday cake waited with its seven flickering candles.

"I want you to cut it," Pathan managed finally, finding his voice.

"You want me to cut your birthday cake?" Devika raised an eyebrow. "Instead of you?"

"Yes. Please."

"Okay."

She positioned herself before the table, the candlelight casting golden warmth across her exposed skin. Pathan moved behind her without conscious thought, drawn by forces beyond simple desire.

His arms came around her waist, hands settling on either side of hers. The position pressed his bare chest against her back, his chin nearly resting on her shoulder. Together they leaned forward, their faces close to the dancing flames.

"Make a wish," Devika whispered.

Pathan couldn't form wishes beyond the moment—her body warm against his, the silk of her saree beneath his fingers, the way her breasts moved with each breath.

They blew out the candles together, seven small flames extinguishing in unison. As they leaned forward for the final candle, Pathan's eyes dropped involuntarily to the neckline of Devika's blouse.

Her breasts hung heavy inside the fabric, the deep cut revealing the valley between them. The angle gave him a view he'd only imagined in fevered fantasies—soft curves moving with her breathing, the edges of lace visible against brown skin.

He couldn't look away.

Devika reached for the knife, cutting a small piece from the cake with careful precision. She lifted it, turning slightly within the circle of his arms to face him.

"Open your mouth."

Pathan obeyed. The chocolate melted on his tongue as she fed him, her fingers brushing his lips in a gesture far more intimate than necessary.

Before she could withdraw her hand, Pathan caught her wrist. He brought her fingers to his mouth, licking away the traces of frosting that clung to her skin. His tongue traced each digit slowly, tasting chocolate and something uniquely her—salt and jasmine and desire.

Devika's breath hitched. Heat flooded her core as his mouth worked against her fingers with deliberate sensuality.

When he finally released her hand, Pathan's eyes blazed with renewed hunger.

"I need a gift."

"A gift?" Devika stepped back slightly, creating distance. "I don't have anything to give you."

Pathan's gaze dropped to her lips—full and pink, slightly parted as she breathed. "I already saw my gift."

Understanding dawned in Devika's eyes. A flush spread across her cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or arousal remained unclear.

"You won't take any gift from me," she announced, her tone playful despite the charged atmosphere.

Before Pathan could respond, she placed both palms against his bare chest and pushed. The gesture wasn't hard, just enough to create space between them. Then she turned and ran.

The movement was spontaneous and girlish—completely at odds with the seductive woman who'd just removed her pallu and fed him cake. Her saree hiked up slightly as she sprinted along the lakeside path, moonlight painting her fleeing form in silver.

Pathan watched, transfixed.

Each stride made her body move in ways that stole his breath. Her ass swayed beneath the silk, the fabric clinging to curves that had haunted his dreams for months. Her exposed midriff flexed and contracted with exertion, the navel he'd stared at during countless lectures now moving in hypnotic rhythm. And her breasts—freed from the constraint of the pallu's modest covering—bounced within her tight blouse, threatening to spill free.

Devika reached a clearing and turned back to face him. Moonlight caught her from behind, creating a halo effect that made her seem otherworldly. She stood with hands on hips, breathing hard, a mocking smile playing across her lips.

"If you can come and take your gift!" The challenge rang clear across the water.

Pathan didn't need further invitation. He launched himself forward, closing the distance between them with long strides. Devika shrieked—half genuine alarm, half delighted anticipation—and ran again.

But he was faster. Younger. Fueled by months of suppressed desire.

He caught her near an ancient tree whose roots twisted into the earth like serpents. His hands closed around her waist, spinning her until her back pressed against rough bark. He followed immediately, trapping her between tree and body, his arms caging her on either side.

Both of them breathed hard, chests heaving from exertion and something far more primal. The chase had transformed them—stripped away the teacher-student dynamic and left only man and woman, hunter and willing prey.

"You won't get your gift." Devika's voice emerged breathless but defiant. "I won't give you anything."

Pathan leaned closer, his face inches from hers. The scent of paan clung to his breath—bitter and sharp.

"Don't need you to give." His voice dropped to something rough and commanding. "I'll take it."

His hands moved before she could protest, capturing her wrists and raising them above her head. He pressed them against the tree trunk, holding them there with one hand while the other cupped her face.

Then his mouth descended on hers.

The kiss began hard and desperate—all lips and teeth and barely controlled hunger. Pathan's mouth moved against hers with the awkward enthusiasm of youth combined with genuine desire. He sucked her lower lip, then her upper, exploring each individually as if memorizing their shape.

Devika responded without thought. Her lips parted, accepting his invasion, returning the pressure with equal fervor. She tasted paan on his tongue—the bitter tang of tobacco and betel mixing with chocolate cake in a combination that should have been unpleasant but somehow inflamed her senses.

He released her wrists, needing both hands for what came next. His palms cupped her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Fingers tangled in her hair, disrupting the careful braid until strands fell loose around her shoulders.

Their mouths crashed together with increasing intensity—all pretense of gentleness abandoned. Tongues met and dueled, lips bruising from the force of their joining. Pathan's teeth caught her lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp.

Devika's hands found his bare chest, nails dragging across skin as she pulled him closer. The tree bark bit into her back but she barely noticed, too consumed by the taste of him, the weight of him pressing against her.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting. Pathan rested his forehead against hers, his eyes dark with barely controlled lust.

"Happy birthday to me," he whispered.

Devika laughed—a breathless, slightly hysterical sound that held equal parts joy and disbelief at what she'd just allowed. What she'd just initiated.

The moon watched their embrace with indifferent light, casting shadows that concealed as much as they revealed. Around them, the lake continued its eternal rhythm—water lapping at shore, night birds calling, the world spinning on while two people broke rules and crossed lines under the vast expanse of stars.

Pathan's mouth descended on hers again before Devika could catch her breath, the kiss more demanding than before. His lips moved with frantic hunger, as if he could consume her through sheer force of desire. His hands roamed across her body with newfound boldness—no longer tentative student touches but the greedy exploration of a man claiming what he'd been denied.

One palm slid down her bare arm, fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder before continuing lower. He found the soft flesh of her hip where the saree clung wetly, squeezing through the silk barrier. His other hand moved to her thigh, fingers splaying wide as he gripped the muscle there, feeling it tense beneath his touch.

Devika's hands weren't idle either. She traced the definition of his shoulders, nails dragging lightly across skin that jumped at her touch. Her fingers mapped the planes of his chest, feeling the rapid thunder of his heartbeat beneath her palm.

Pathan's hand slid lower still, cupping the generous curve of her ass. He squeezed gently at first, testing her reaction, then more firmly when she didn't protest. The flesh gave beneath his fingers—soft and yielding in a way that made him groan against her mouth.

"Sexy Malayali teacher," he breathed against her lips, the words emerging rough with desire.

Devika laughed—a sound caught between amusement and arousal. "Dirty paan-chewing Pune ruggard guy."

The insult carried no real venom. If anything, the crude description seemed to inflame them both further. Pathan's mouth crashed against hers with renewed intensity, his tongue pushing past her lips to tangle with hers.

Then Devika felt it—a coolness against her heated skin that didn't come from the night air. A droplet landed on her shoulder, then another on her cheek.

Rain.

They broke apart simultaneously, both looking up at the sky as the drizzle intensified. What had been scattered drops moments ago transformed into a steady fall, coating everything in liquid shimmer.

"Fuck," Pathan muttered, genuine frustration coloring his tone. He looked at Devika, water already beginning to plaster her hair to her skull. "My luck. Rain stops our romance."

He stepped back, releasing his hold on her body. "Let's not get wet. There's a storeroom nearby—"

But before he could finish the sentence, Devika's hand shot out and caught his arm. Her fingers wrapped around his bicep with surprising strength, halting his retreat.

"Let's enjoy what God gave to us."

The words emerged low and deliberate. Without waiting for his response, she pressed her entire body against his—breasts to chest, hips to hips. Her mouth found his in the falling rain, lips moving with passionate intensity that stole his breath.

The rain intensified, soaking through their clothes within seconds. Devika's saree clung to her curves like a second skin, the burgundy silk turning nearly black with moisture. Her blouse became transparent, the outline of her bra visible through the wet fabric.

Pathan's hands found her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. "Madam," he moaned against her mouth. "You're irresistible."

Water streamed down their bodies—following the line of her neck to pool in her cleavage, running rivulets along his abdomen. Each raindrop added to the sensory overload, cool against heated skin, making every touch electric.

Devika pushed him suddenly—not hard enough to hurt but with enough force to create distance. The mocking smile returned to her lips as she stepped back, rain painting her features in silver.

"If you need more gifts..." She gestured at herself with deliberate provocation. "Get them from me."

Then she ran again.

The sight paralyzed Pathan for precious seconds. Devika's wet figure moved through the rain like something from fevered dreams. Her saree clung to every curve—the swell of her ass, the dip of her waist, the generous hips that swayed with each stride. The wet fabric molded to her body, revealing more than it concealed, creating an intimate silhouette that made his mouth go dry despite the falling rain.

Her wet hair streamed behind her, freed completely from its braid now. Water droplets flew from the dark strands like diamonds scattering in moonlight. And her breasts—God, her breasts—bounced heavily within the soaked blouse, the wet fabric doing nothing to hide their shape or the way they moved.

It was shocking. Intimate. The most erotic thing Pathan had ever witnessed in his life.

He chased.

His legs ate up the distance between them, muscles burning with exertion. Devika shrieked as she heard him gaining, putting on a burst of speed that carried her past the weathered table where the birthday cake sat forgotten, its frosting beginning to melt under the rain's assault.

Pathan caught her there, his hands closing around her wet arms. The water made her slippery, his grip sliding as he tried to pull her close. He adjusted his hold, fingers finding purchase on her shoulders, and spun her to face him.

Before he could kiss her again, Devika reached out and grabbed a piece of cake. The chocolate smeared across her fingers as she lifted it to her mouth, biting off half before offering him the rest. But instead of simply feeding him, she kept the cake in her mouth.

She pulled him down, her lips meeting his with the chocolate between them. The sweetness mixed with rain and desire as they shared the morsel, tongues battling for the melting frosting. They swallowed together, still kissing, the taste of chocolate lingering even as their mouths continued their hungry exploration.

Devika's lips left his, trailing down his jaw to his neck. She kissed the column of his throat, feeling his pulse hammer beneath her mouth. Rain flowed between them, adding lubrication as her tongue traced patterns on his skin.

She moved lower, finding his chest. Her mouth worked across the defined muscles, tasting rain and salt and the unique flavor of his skin. When her lips found his nipple, she felt his entire body jerk.

"Fuck!" Pathan's moan carried across the water, raw and unfiltered.

Devika swirled her tongue around the small nub, feeling it harden beneath her attention. She alternated between gentle licks and firmer suction, each touch drawing increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat.

Then she moved to the other nipple, giving it equal attention while rain continued its relentless fall around them. Water ran in rivulets down his chest, following the valleys between muscles, and she chased the droplets with her tongue.

When she finally lifted her head, Pathan's eyes blazed with barely controlled lust. She kissed him again—hard and deep, her tongue pushing past his lips to tangle with his in a dance that mimicked far more explicit acts.

Pathan's hands found her ass again, both palms cupping the generous curves through wet silk. He squeezed, marveling at the softness, the way the flesh gave beneath his fingers even through the barrier of fabric.

He maneuvered behind her, his height giving him a perfect view down her blouse. The wet fabric had shifted, the neckline gaping open to reveal her cleavage in all its glory. Water pooled between her breasts, creating a small reservoir that threatened to overflow with each breath.

Pathan's mouth found her neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He worked his way across her shoulder, tasting rain and jasmine. His hands slid around her body, cupping her breasts through the soaked blouse.

The weight of them filled his palms perfectly. He squeezed gently, feeling the soft flesh yield, the hardness of her nipples pressing against his palms through blouse and bra. He massaged with increasing confidence, learning the shape of her, the way she responded to different pressures.

Devika pressed her ass backward, grinding against the hardness straining behind his jeans. The friction made them both groan—his cock trapped and aching, her body seeking relief from the arousal building between her thighs.

Through the wet fabric of her blouse and bra, Pathan could feel her nipples—hard points that seemed to pierce through every layer, announcing her arousal with shameless clarity. He pinched them gently through the fabric, rolling them between thumb and forefinger.

Devika's head fell back against his shoulder, a moan escaping her lips that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the heat building in her core.

Then Pathan released her breasts and sank to his knees in the mud behind her. He gripped her hips, turning her to face him. The sight that greeted him stole whatever breath the rain hadn't already claimed.

Her navel was exposed where the saree had ridden up, water dripping from the small hollow in mesmerizing patterns. Each droplet traced the curve of her waist before disappearing into the fabric below. The wet silk clung to her belly, emphasizing the slight softness there, the feminine roundness that spoke of womanhood rather than girlhood.

Pathan's hands slid up her thighs, feeling the muscle beneath rain-slicked skin. He leaned forward, his mouth finding her navel with unerring accuracy.

He kissed the small hollow reverently, his tongue darting out to taste the rain pooled there. The water was warm from her body heat, flavored with something uniquely her. He lapped at it like a man dying of thirst, his tongue exploring every ridge and valley of her waist.

Then he buried his face against her belly, feeling the slick softness made even more sensual by the rain. His hands gripped her ass for balance, fingers digging into the generous curves as he worshipped her waist with mouth and tongue.

Devika's hands tangled in his wet hair, holding him against her. "Sexy," she breathed. The word emerged barely audible over the sound of falling rain.

Pathan's mouth moved across her skin, kissing and licking with abandon. "Everything about you is sexy," he mumbled against her flesh. "Your waist, your belly, the way water runs down your skin..."

He stood abruptly, his eyes locking with hers. Rain streamed down both their faces, but neither seemed to notice. The hunger in his gaze was almost feral—a man who'd been given a taste and now craved the entire feast.

His hand slid down her body, over the wet silk of her saree, until his palm pressed against her mound. Even through layers of fabric, he could feel the heat radiating from her core.

Devika's hand shot out, covering his and stopping its movement. "We have the entire night."

The reminder made Pathan's eyes widen, then crinkle with a smile that was equal parts joy and anticipation. "Yes. Entire night to enjoy you."

"Let's pause." Devika stepped back, creating space between them despite the obvious reluctance of both their bodies. "Romance and talk sometime in this rain. Like lovers."

She took his hand and led him back toward the ancient tree. The bark was slick with moisture, but the thick trunk provided some shelter from the worst of the downpour. Devika guided Pathan to sit with his back against the tree, his legs stretched out before him.

Then she settled onto his lap—not facing him but with her back to his chest, nestled between his thighs. She leaned back, feeling his wet skin against hers, his heartbeat thundering against her shoulder blade.

After a moment, she shifted, turning in his lap until they faced each other. Her legs straddled his hips, her saree bunching around her thighs. She brought her face close to his, so close their noses brushed.

"You know..." Devika's voice emerged soft, almost lost beneath the rain's steady percussion. "When I came here tonight, I thought maybe a quick encounter. Something fast and forgettable." She traced his jaw with one finger. "Never thought we'd be locked in. Or that it would rain."

Pathan's expression shifted—guilt flickering across his features before he could hide it. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Devika tilted her head, studying him.

"It was my plan." The confession tumbled out in a rush. "To get us trapped here. I gave money to the gatekeeper. Told him to lock up early and leave."

Shock rippled across Devika's face, her eyes widening. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. The expression transformed into laughter—genuine and delighted rather than angry.

"You pervert."

She kissed him before he could apologize again, her mouth moving against his with renewed passion. When she pulled back, her eyes danced with amusement.

"Pathan..." She hesitated, as if testing words before speaking them aloud. "Do you like me?"

"Yes." The response came without hesitation. He met her gaze steadily despite the vulnerability in the question. "Any man in Pune who sees you would want to marry you. Fuck you all night."

"You dirty pervert." But the insult carried affection rather than censure. "Always thinking about having sex."

"What else should I think about when you're sitting on my lap wearing wet clothes that show everything?"

Devika laughed again, the sound bright against the rain's steady drumming. "I meant..." She brushed her nose against his, an intimate gesture that felt more revealing than their earlier kisses. "Do you like my attitude? My character?"

Understanding dawned in Pathan's eyes. He nodded slowly, his hands settling on her waist. "Yes, ma'am. I like everything about you."

They stayed close, lips almost but not quite touching as they spoke—each word a caress, each breath shared between them.

"Tell me..." Devika's voice dropped to something conspiratorial. "What fantasies do you have about me?"

Pathan groaned. "Many."

"Tell me one."

"When I see you walking from behind..." His hands slid down to cup her ass, emphasizing his point. "I want to grab these. Pull you against me. Make you feel how hard you make me just by existing."

Devika's breath hitched. She made a show of mock anger, swatting at his chest. "Pervert."

But her hands remained on his skin, fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest.

"If you get me as your wife..." Devika paused, letting the hypothetical scenario hang between them. "What will you do?"

"Wife?" Pathan's eyes widened at the question, his voice catching on the word.

"Yes." Devika's lips brushed his as she spoke. "As your wife."

Pathan's hands tightened on her waist, his expression turning almost reverent. "I would worship you daily. Romance you all day and night." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Everywhere. In the kitchen while you cook. In the bathroom while you bathe. Even in public—touching you where no one can see, making you wet while pretending everything is innocent."

A moan escaped Devika's throat. "Pathan... I'm getting wet just hearing this."

She kissed him—deep and desperate, her tongue pushing into his mouth as rain continued falling around them. When she finally pulled back, both were gasping.

"Then marry me," she breathed against his lips. "Keep me as your wife. See me as your wife, not as your teacher." Her hips ground against his, feeling the hardness trapped between them. "Have me all night like you would have your wife."

"Devika..." Pathan moaned her name—not 'ma'am' or 'teacher' but her actual name, raw and intimate on his tongue.

He knew this was fantasy. Knew that when morning came, she would return to being his professor and he would remain her student. The real world didn't allow for Kerala biology teachers to marry Pune students half their age.

But here, in this rain-soaked darkness with the world reduced to just their bodies and desire, they could pretend.

"Devika," he said again, tasting the syllables. "My wife."

She smiled against his mouth, then settled more fully onto his lap. Her head rested on his shoulder, her wet hair streaming down his chest. His arms came around her, holding her close as rain drummed a steady rhythm on the leaves above.

They stayed like that—wrapped in each other, breathing in sync, letting the fantasy play out in the spaces between heartbeats. Wife and husband. Lovers unbound by profession or propriety. Just a man and woman finding shelter in each other's arms while the storm continued its relentless fall.

The night stretched ahead of them—hours of darkness and rain and possibility. Devika felt Pathan's heart beating steady and strong beneath her cheek, felt his hands gentle on her waist, and allowed herself to sink into the fiction they were creating together.

Tomorrow would bring reality. Morning would restore boundaries and consequences. But tonight—this rain-soaked night trapped at a moonlit lake—belonged only to them.

The rain had settled into a steady rhythm, no longer the torrential downpour but a persistent drizzle that kept everything slick and glistening. Water ran in rivulets down their bodies as they held each other beneath the ancient tree, the world reduced to just the two of them and the falling rain.

Devika lifted her head from Pathan's shoulder, her dark eyes finding his in the moonlight. Something shifted in her expression—a seriousness cutting through the playful intimacy of moments before.

"Pathan..." She hesitated, then continued. "I want to say something."

He nodded, waiting.

"Reduce your porn watching." The words emerged firm but gentle. "It's bad for you."

Pathan's hands stilled on her waist. He looked at her with an expression caught between amusement and disbelief. "When I have a woman like you..." His voice dropped low, rough with desire. "Why should I watch porn?"

The compliment sent heat through Devika's chest despite the rain's chill.

"But I can't get you daily," Pathan continued, frustration bleeding into his tone. His fingers traced patterns on her wet skin. "Can't touch you whenever I want. Can't kiss you in the hallways or pull you into empty classrooms."

Devika's mind raced, processing his words and the hunger behind them. An idea formed—reckless and dangerous but undeniably arousing.

"But still..." She cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "If you feel like seeing porn, think of me instead." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You come to me. Take me to a secluded spot in college. Kiss me as long as you need to satisfy yourself."

Pathan's breath caught.

"Smell me. Hug me." Her lips brushed his as she spoke. "Play with my body until the urge passes."

"When all are in college I can't, right?" The protest came out weak, already defeated by the images her words conjured. "Someone will see—"

"Don't worry." Devika's smile turned wicked. "You can signal me." She demonstrated, her hands moving to adjust her saree in a gesture that could appear accidental. "I'll show my hips and waist like an accident. Bend and show my cleavage when passing your desk."

Pathan groaned, his imagination running wild.

"Raise my arms and show my armpits while writing on the board," Devika continued, each suggestion more explicit than the last. "I'm there for you, Pathan. Whenever you need."

The promise hung between them—an offer of intimacy hidden in plain sight, professor and student maintaining propriety's facade while conducting their forbidden affair beneath everyone's noses.

Pathan's mouth crashed against hers with desperate hunger. The kiss consumed them both, tongues tangling as rain continued its relentless fall. When they finally broke apart, both stood on shaky legs, the tree's support the only thing keeping them upright.

Pathan didn't stop kissing her even as they rose. His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, down her throat, across her collarbone. His hands roamed with increasing boldness, mapping every curve revealed by wet fabric.

He found the edge of her saree where it was tucked at her waist. His fingers worked the wet silk, beginning to unwrap her like a gift.

"Wait." Devika's hand covered his, stopping the motion.

Pathan pulled back, confusion clouding his features. "What—"

"I want to give you a gift first."

She stepped away from him, moving behind the tree before he could protest. Pathan waited, his body thrumming with frustrated arousal, wondering what she could possibly be doing.

When Devika emerged, Pathan's mind went completely blank.

She held her wet petticoat in one hand—the white fabric dripping water as she let it fall carelessly to the muddy ground. Without that underlayer, her saree clung directly to her skin in ways that stole his breath.

The burgundy silk molded to her thighs like a second skin, revealing every curve and contour. Water had made the fabric semi-transparent in places, offering tantalizing glimpses of the brown flesh beneath. A gap appeared where the pleats didn't quite meet, exposing several inches of her inner thigh.

She looked extremely sexy—dangerously, impossibly sexy in a way that made Pathan's cock throb painfully behind his jeans.

Without conscious thought, his hand moved to his crotch, gripping himself through the denim as if the pressure might provide relief.

Devika watched his reaction with satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. She moved toward him slowly, each step deliberate, the gap in her saree flashing more thigh with every stride.

Pathan met her halfway, unable to wait another second. His mouth found hers with bruising force, kissing her madly as rain fell around them. One hand gripped her hip through the wet saree while the other explored, searching for that tantalizing gap he'd glimpsed.

His fingers found the slit between pleats. The fabric parted easily under his touch, revealing smooth, rain-slicked skin. He caressed her bare thigh, marveling at the softness, the warmth radiating from her core despite the rain's chill.

Pathan's hand slid to the back of her knee, gripping firmly. He lifted, bending her leg and wrapping it around his hip. The position opened her to him, pressing her heat against his hardness through their remaining clothes.

He held her like that—one of her legs wrapped around him, her saree riding up dangerously high, his hand caressing the bare flesh of her thigh. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, learning the texture, the way she trembled at certain touches.

After several breathless moments, he lowered her leg gently. Devika's feet found the muddy ground again, though her balance seemed uncertain.

Her hands moved to his waist with determined purpose. She found his belt buckle, working the leather through the clasp with fumbling fingers made clumsy by rain and arousal. The metal clinked as it came free, then she attacked the button and zipper with equal determination.

The jeans slid down Pathan's hips, pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them quickly, kicking the wet denim aside. Now he stood in only his underwear—black briefs that did nothing to hide the massive erection straining against the fabric.

He pulled her close again, his mouth finding hers in another hungry kiss. Devika's hands roamed across his wet thighs, feeling the muscle beneath rain-slicked skin. Her fingers traced upward, teasing along the edge of his underwear before retreating.

Then she raised her leg again, wrapping it around his hip with more confidence this time. The heat of her bare thigh pressed against his, skin to skin, intimate and electric.

Devika gave him the full warmth of her body, grinding against him as rain continued falling. She could feel his hardness pressing directly against her pussy through the thin barriers of his underwear and her remaining clothes. The friction sent sparks of pleasure radiating through her core.

She held the position, rubbing against him with increasing pressure. Her hips moved in small circles, seeking relief from the ache building between her thighs. Pathan's hands gripped her ass, helping her maintain balance while encouraging the delicious friction.

After several torturous moments, Devika lowered her leg again. But before Pathan could protest the loss of contact, her hand moved to his crotch.

She cupped him through the underwear, feeling the shape of his erection, the heat radiating through wet fabric. Her palm pressed against his length, fingers exploring the outline.

"Fuck!" Pathan's moan tore from his throat, raw and desperate.

Devika's hand continued its exploration, sliding lower to cup his balls. She felt their weight, the way they drew up tight against his body. Her fingers traced the sensitive skin there, making Pathan shudder against her.

Then her hand slipped inside his briefs.

The first contact of skin on skin made them both gasp. Devika wrapped her fingers around his hot shaft, feeling it pulse in her grip. Even the rain couldn't cool the heat radiating from his cock.

"Pathan..." She moaned against his lips, overwhelmed by the sensation. The hardness, the silky skin stretched taut over steel, the way it jerked at her touch.

She gripped him firmly, her hand learning the shape and size of him. Then she pulled his cock free from the confining underwear, bringing it into the open air and rain.

Devika's hand slid along his length—from base to tip and back again in slow, measured strokes. Her fingers traced the prominent vein running along the underside, felt the ridge where head met shaft.

She stopped kissing him, pulling back to look down at what she held. Her mouth fell open, a moan escaping as she truly comprehended his size.

"It's hard," she breathed, wonder and arousal flavoring the words.

Rain fell on his exposed cock, droplets running down the shaft to where her hand gripped him. The water added lubrication, making her strokes smoother, slicker.

Devika slid even closer, her body pressing fully against his. She could feel his dick completely now—the heat of it against her belly, the way it pulsed with his heartbeat, the moisture gathering at the tip that wasn't just rain.

Then she sank to her knees before him.

The muddy ground soaked through her saree instantly, but Devika didn't care. She knelt in the rain with Pathan's cock gripped firmly in her hand, looking up at him with eyes dark with desire.

His dick leaked precum, the clear fluid mixing with rain as it dripped from the swollen head. Devika watched, fascinated, as another drop formed and fell.

She smiled up at him—not the modest smile of a proper Kerala professor but something far more wicked. Her free hand came up to join the first, both palms now working his length with increasing confidence.

She played with his dick, exploring every inch. Her fingers traced the veins, circled the head, massaged the sensitive spot just beneath the crown. Each touch drew increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat.

Then Devika pressed his cock against her cheek.

The heat of it shocked her despite the rain's chill. She rubbed the hard length across her face, from cheek to chin and back again. The silky skin dragged across her features, leaving traces of precum mixed with rainwater.

"I can feel its heat in this rain," she moaned, her voice thick with arousal.

She rubbed his dick along her lips next, feeling the shape of the head, the ridge that defined it. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely masculine—exploded across her tongue as precum smeared across her mouth.

Pathan groaned above her, his hands fisting in her wet hair.

Devika brought his cock to her nose, pressing the length against her face and inhaling deeply. The scent of him filled her lungs—sharp and musky, primal in a way that made her pussy clench with need.

She rubbed him against her nose, breathing him in, lost in the sensory overload. Pathan had never thought his biology teacher would worship his dick like this, treating it as something precious and desired rather than crude or shameful.

Devika's hands moved to her back, fingers searching for the hooks of her blouse.

"Stop." Pathan's voice cut through the rain, sharp with command.

She looked up at him, confusion and frustration warring in her expression. Her fingers stilled on the hooks.

"It's more sexy..." Pathan's hands came down to cup her face, tilting it up so he could see her properly. "Seeing your cleavage and your chain between your valley in that blouse than nude."

Understanding dawned in Devika's eyes. A smile spread across her face—pleased and surprised by his restraint, his appreciation for the tease rather than immediate gratification.

"You're different," she murmured, her hands falling away from the blouse hooks.

The wet fabric clung to her breasts, the deep neckline gaping open to reveal the valley between them. Her gold chain hung there, nestled in her cleavage, the metal gleaming against brown skin. The sight was indeed more erotic than simple nudity—the promise of what lay beneath, the barrier that made desire sharper.

"Pathan..." Devika's voice dropped to something reverent. "This is your gift."

She gripped his cock firmly in both hands, angling it toward her face.

"Your dream Kerala woman's lips on your dick."

The words had barely left her mouth before she leaned forward and kissed the swollen head.

Her lips pressed against the tip—soft and warm despite the rain's chill. She held the kiss for several heartbeats, feeling his cock jerk in her grip, tasting the precum that leaked freely now.

"Ahhhh!" Pathan's moan tore from his throat, his entire body jerking at the sensation.

The feeling of her lips on his most sensitive flesh—his beautiful professor, the woman he'd fantasized about for months, kneeling in the mud and rain to worship his cock—it exceeded every fantasy his porn-addled brain had ever conjured.

Devika pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips still barely brushing his tip. Rain streamed down both their faces, but neither seemed to notice anything beyond the connection between them.

"Happy birthday, Pathan," she whispered against his cock.

The rain began to fade, transforming from steady downpour to gentle drizzle. Water droplets hung suspended in the air like diamonds catching moonlight, creating a shimmering curtain around their bodies.

Devika held Pathan's cock firmly in both hands, angling it toward her face. She pressed her lips to the swollen head—a gentle kiss, reverent and slow. The heat of him burned against her mouth despite the rain's cooling touch.

"Ahhh..." Pathan's moan emerged strangled, desperate.

She kissed again. Another soft press of lips against his tip, lingering longer this time. His cock jerked in her grip, leaking fresh precum that mixed with rain and saliva.

"Fuck..." His hands fisted in her wet hair.

Devika continued the torturous pattern—kiss after kiss planted along his length. She worked from tip to base and back again, her lips mapping every inch. Each kiss drew increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat, his hips twitching with the effort of holding still.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his.

The sight of her—kneeling in mud with rain drizzling around them, holding his dick like something precious while those dark eyes burned with hunger—nearly undid him completely.

Devika parted her lips and took him inside.

The heat of her mouth engulfed just the head at first, her tongue swirling around the crown. Pathan's entire body jerked, his moan echoing across the water. She sucked gently, creating suction that pulled more precum onto her tongue.

"Holy fuck!" The words tore from him as she slowly took more of his length.

Devika's mouth stretched around his girth, lips sliding down his shaft inch by careful inch. Her tongue pressed against the underside, tracing the prominent vein there. She established a rhythm—slow and deliberate, taking him deeper with each bob of her head.

Pathan's moans grew louder, more frantic. His hands tightened in her hair but didn't force, letting her control the pace. Rain continued falling, droplets running down his thighs to where her mouth worked.

She increased her speed gradually, her head moving faster. The wet sounds of her sucking mixed with rain and his desperate groans. Saliva pooled in her mouth, making everything slicker, easier.

Then she pulled off completely.

His cock gleamed in the moonlight—coated with her saliva, catching the light like polished stone. Strings of spit connected her lips to his tip, stretching thin before breaking.

Devika gathered saliva in her mouth and spat directly onto his dick.

The glob landed on the swollen head, sliding down his length in thick rivulets. She used both hands to spread it, coating every inch until his cock glistened obscenely.

Then she took him back inside.

This time she sucked harder, faster, her mouth working his length with increasing confidence. Her hands joined the effort—one gripping his base, the other massaging his balls. The combination made Pathan's legs shake.

When she pulled off again, thick strings of saliva and precum connected her mouth to his cock. They stretched between them like bridges, shimmering in the fading rain.

"This is the sloppiest, sexiest blowjob ever," Pathan moaned, staring down at the erotic sight.

Devika met his gaze, her lips swollen and wet. "I swear this cock was made for me." Her voice came out rough, raw with desire. "The thickness stretching my lips, the length hitting the back of my throat, the way it pulses when I kiss it… it's flawless." She squeezed his shaft possessively. "You're carrying a masterpiece between your legs."

Pathan's cock jerked violently at her words, leaking fresh precum.

Devika spat again—this time directly on the tip. The saliva pooled in the small slit before sliding down. She leaned forward and kissed that spot, her lips pressing against where fluid gathered.

Then she took just the head between her lips, creating a seal. Her tongue swirled around the crown while she sucked, hard enough that her cheeks hollowed visibly.

"Fuck!" Pathan's hips jerked. "Keep going madam, you're a goddess!"

Devika released the suction but kept her lips pressed to his tip. Her tongue extended, the pink muscle visible in the moonlight as it lapped at the precum beading there. She licked with deliberate slowness, cleaning every drop.

"Fuck… that tongue on my tip, licking up every drop… you're killing me," Pathan groaned, his voice breaking.

The words surprised Devika even as arousal spiked through her core. She recognized the pattern—dialogue lifted straight from the porn videos he admitted watching. The realization should have been awkward, should have broken the spell.

Instead it inflamed her further.

"God, your precum is delicious," she replied, matching his crude honesty with her own.

She kissed along his length again—not gentle reverent kisses now but hungry, open-mouthed contact. Her lips dragged across wet skin, tongue darting out to taste. When she reached his base, she brought his cock to her face.

Devika rubbed his dick all over her features—across her cheeks, along her jaw, over her lips and nose. The mess of saliva and precum smeared everywhere, marking her skin.

"Fuck… this is the most perfect dick I've ever had between my lips…" She punctuated each word with more rubbing, lost in the debasement. "So big, so hard, pulsing against my tongue… I love how you leak for me, how you throb when I take you deeper… you taste so fucking good, I could do this for hours."

She gripped his shaft and began beating it against her lips—tap, tap, tap in rhythmic strikes. Then she moved to her cheeks, slapping his wet cock against first one side then the other. The sounds echoed obscenely.

Devika puckered her lips into an exaggerated pout and beat his dick against them repeatedly. The soft flesh gave under each impact, creating a lewd percussion that made Pathan moan continuously.

Her tongue came out next—extended fully as she licked all over his length. She worked methodically, coating every inch with fresh saliva. When she reached his base, she lifted his cock higher.

The underside of his shaft gleamed in moonlight. Devika's tongue traced along it slowly, following the thick vein from base to tip. The flat of her tongue dragged across sensitive skin, making Pathan's entire body shudder.

"Oh fuck… your tongue is perfect…" His words tumbled out between moans. "So soft yet so firm, tracing every vein, swirling around the ridge… I can feel you savoring me… you're making this cock pulse like crazy… don't stop, I love what you do with that tongue."

Hearing his encouragement, Devika increased her efforts. She licked with abandon, her tongue exploring places she'd never thought to taste before. The underside of his shaft, the sensitive spot where head met base, the ridge that defined his crown—all received thorough attention.

Finally she took him back into her mouth.

This time Pathan's hands tightened in her hair with purpose. His hips began moving, thrusting in shallow strokes that pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. The motion caught Devika by surprise—suddenly he was fucking her face rather than receiving passive pleasure.

His dick hit the back of her throat with each thrust. The impact made her gag, her body's natural reflex triggering despite her willingness. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, spilling over to mix with rain and saliva.

"Keep gagging on it… ahhh… yes…" Pathan's moans grew ragged as he felt her throat constrict around him.

He maintained the rhythm for several more thrusts before suddenly stopping. He pulled his cock from her mouth completely, his chest heaving.

Devika gasped for air, breathing hard. Saliva hung from her lips in thick strands. Her makeup—what remained after the rain—ran in dark streaks down her cheeks.

"Fuck… too deep, hitting my throat…" She coughed slightly, her voice hoarse.

"Sorry, can't control—"

"Don't be sorry." Devika cut him off, her eyes blazing. "This is new experience for me." She gripped his thighs for balance. "Just again let me take you deep."

Without waiting for response, she opened her mouth and guided his cock back inside. This time she controlled the depth, holding his thighs firmly as she pushed forward. Inch by inch his length disappeared until her nose pressed against his pelvis.

His entire cock buried in her throat.

"Fuck madam, your throat feels like heaven…" Pathan's moan broke on the words. "So warm, so tight, taking every inch like you were made for this cock."

Devika held the position, her throat convulsing around his girth. She couldn't breathe with him this deep, but the deprivation added to the overwhelming sensory experience. She felt every pulse of his heartbeat through the organ lodged in her throat.

"You're taking me so deep, so perfect…" Pathan's hands gentled in her hair, almost reverent now. "I can feel your throat pulsing around me—pure fucking magic."

She held for several more seconds before pulling back. His cock emerged coated in thick saliva, strings connecting them as she gasped for breath. Her eyes—watering and smudged with mascara—lifted to meet his.

"Those eyes looking up at me… fuck, you're killing me."

Devika smiled through the mess, pleased by his reaction. But she wasn't finished.

She shifted lower, her attention moving to his balls. Holding his cock in one hand, she bent further and extended her tongue. The first lick across his sack made Pathan's knees buckle slightly.

"Ahhh..." His moan carried a different quality now—surprised pleasure mixing with overwhelming sensation.

Devika licked again, her tongue exploring the wrinkled skin. Then she opened her mouth and took one of his balls inside, sucking gently.

The sensation nearly undid Pathan completely. Her warm mouth engulfed his testicle, tongue swirling around it while maintaining careful suction. She released it with a wet pop before taking the other, giving it equal attention.

"These balls are heavy," she murmured against his skin. "You need this."

She alternated between them—sucking one then the other, occasionally taking both into her mouth at once. Her tongue worked continuously, lapping at sensitive flesh while her hand stroked his shaft.

Then she moved lower still.

Her tongue traced the area beneath his balls—that sensitive strip of skin that made Pathan jerk violently. She licked with broad strokes, getting closer and closer to forbidden territory.

When her tongue grazed the puckered skin of his anus, Pathan's moan echoed across the water—shocked and overwhelmed in equal measure.

Devika smiled against his skin, pleased by his reaction. She didn't linger there long—just enough contact to drive him wild—before working her way back up to his balls.

Thirty minutes dissolved into this worship. Devika knelt in the mud, rain reduced to occasional drizzle now, lavishing attention on Pathan's cock and balls with single-minded devotion. She alternated between techniques—sucking, licking, kissing, rubbing him against her face. Each variation drew fresh moans and increasingly desperate sounds.

Finally she rose to her feet.

Her knees protested the movement, stiff from kneeling so long. Pathan caught her immediately, his hands steadying her as she found her balance.

She pulled him into a kiss—deep and filthy, letting him taste himself on her tongue. Their mouths crashed together with renewed hunger, teeth clicking, tongues battling for dominance.

As they kissed, Devika became acutely aware of his cock pressing against her body. The hard length dragged across her exposed waist, leaving trails of saliva and precum. It rubbed against her navel, the heat of it shocking even through the remaining chill of rain-wet skin.

She ground against him, feeling his messy dick sliding across her belly. The sensation made her pussy clench with need—empty and aching for the hardness currently painting patterns on her skin.

Pathan's hands gripped her ass through wet saree, pulling her harder against him. His cock trapped between their bodies jerked and pulsed, leaking continuously now from her extended worship.

When they finally broke the kiss, both were panting. Devika looked down at the mess between them—his cock glistening obscenely, her waist marked with the evidence of their activities.

The drizzle had almost stopped completely now. Moonlight illuminated everything with crystalline clarity—the water lapping at the shore, the ancient tree sheltering them, their rain-soaked bodies pressed together.

"Devika..." Pathan's voice came out rough, desperate. "I need—"

"I know." She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I know what you need."

Her hand wrapped around his cock again, stroking slowly. Pathan's hips jerked into her grip, seeking more friction, more pressure, more everything.

"But not yet." Devika's smile turned wicked. "The night is still young."

She released him, stepping back despite his protest. Her hands moved to her saree, finding where the wet silk was tucked at her waist. With deliberate slowness, she began unwrapping the remaining layers.

Pathan watched, transfixed, as his Kerala goddess prepared to reveal everything the rain had only hinted at.

The night stretched ahead of them—hours of darkness and privacy and possibility. And Devika intended to use every single minute.

[Sage_69]

Hotter than I imagined. Extremely erotic scene. Loved the updates very much.

[prady12191]

[prady12191]

Devika's hands moved to her waist, fingers finding where the wet burgundy silk was tucked. She began unwrapping the remaining layers with deliberate slowness, each movement calculated to torment the man watching her with hungry eyes.

"Stop."

Pathan's voice cut through the night air, sharp with command. His hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could continue.

Devika froze, confusion flickering across her features. "What—"

"Don't remove it." His eyes traced the curves of her body, lingering on how the wet saree clung to every dip and swell. "You're sexier like this. With the saree showing your curves but hiding what's underneath."

She stared at him, processing his words. Her hand fell away from the fabric, arms dropping to her sides as she studied his face for any hint of mockery or game-playing.

"Are you sure?" Doubt colored her voice. "You don't want to see me completely naked?"

"I'm sure." No hesitation. His gaze traveled slowly down her body—the wet blouse outlining her breasts, the saree molded to her waist and hips, the fabric clinging to her thighs. "This is perfect. You're perfect exactly like this."

Devika's eyes widened slightly. "I've never..." She paused, searching for words. "I've never met a man who prefers a woman dressed rather than naked."

Something shifted in Pathan's expression—pride mixing with desire. He closed the distance between them, his wet body pressing against hers as his mouth found her lips.

The kiss consumed them both. His tongue pushed past her lips, tangling with hers while his hands roamed across wet silk. He touched her through the saree—cupping her ass, gripping her waist, feeling the curves he'd just praised.

When they finally broke apart, Pathan took her hands in his. He guided them down, pressing her palms against her own thighs.

"Hold here," he commanded softly.

Before Devika could question the instruction, Pathan bent slightly and lifted. His hands gripped the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up as if she weighed nothing. Devika's legs automatically wrapped around his waist for balance, her saree bunching between them.

"What are you doing?" Alarm crept into her voice as she locked her ankles behind his back.

"Stay calm." His voice rumbled against her ear, breath hot on her neck. "Trust me."

Devika settled more securely onto his lap, her arms coming around his shoulders. The position pressed her pussy—covered only by thin, soaked panties now that her saree had ridden up—directly against his still-hard cock. She could feel every ridge and vein through the minimal barriers.

Pathan began walking, his steps measured and careful. Devika clung tighter as he moved toward the water's edge.

"Why are you going to the lake?" Nervousness sharpened her question.

Pathan sealed her lips with his, swallowing the rest of her protests. His mouth moved against hers with possessive intensity as he continued wading into the water. Cool liquid lapped at his calves, then his knees, rising steadily higher.

When he finally released her mouth, Devika gasped. "I don't know how to swim!"

"That's fine." His voice carried absolute confidence. "I can take care of you. We're not going deep."

The water reached his thighs now, then his hips. Pathan stopped there, the lake creating a natural boundary around them. Moonlight painted the surface silver, transforming their surroundings into something ethereal.

Devika relaxed slightly in his arms. The water's buoyancy made her feel weightless despite her secure grip on Pathan's shoulders. Her burgundy saree floated around them like dark clouds, the fabric billowing and swirling with each small movement.

Her feet didn't touch the ground. She existed entirely supported by Pathan—her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping her ass, the water cradling them both.

"Never in my life..." Pathan's voice emerged rough with emotion. "Never did I think I'd romance with a Kerala woman in a lake under a full moon."

The confession pierced something in Devika's chest. "I've never had a moment like this either."

She pulled him into a kiss—deep and tender, so different from the frantic coupling of minutes before. This kiss spoke of connection rather than just lust, intimacy beyond the physical.

Pathan's hands moved beneath the floating saree. His palms slid along her thighs, feeling smooth skin made slippery by water. Then he found the edge of her panties.

The thin fabric clung wetly to her ass. Pathan's fingers explored through the barrier, squeezing the generous curves, learning their shape and weight. He kneaded the soft flesh while maintaining the kiss, their tongues moving in lazy rhythm.

His fingers found the bottom elastic of her panties. He hooked beneath the edge and pulled, creating space. Now his hands slipped inside, touching her naked ass for the first time.

The skin-to-skin contact made them both groan into the kiss. Pathan's palms filled with bare flesh—warm and soft despite the water's chill. He squeezed harder, his fingers digging into her curves possessively.

Breaking the kiss, he moaned against her lips. "Madam, your ass is so sexy. I've waited so long to feel this."

Devika smiled, pleasure and power flooding through her at his obvious worship. "Then enjoy it."

Pathan didn't need further permission. His hands explored thoroughly—mapping every inch, learning the dip at the small of her back, the way her flesh gave under pressure. One finger traced down her ass crack, following the valley between her cheeks.

The intimate touch made Devika's breath hitch. No one had ever explored her there with such deliberate attention. Pathan's finger moved slowly, teasingly, not pushing inside but just tracing the sensitive skin.

Then his hands shifted, moving around to her front. His fingers slid through water and beneath fabric, seeking new territory. When they found her pussy, both of them gasped.

Pathan's fingers explored her mound, feeling slight hair there—not completely shaved smooth but trimmed short. "I love this," he breathed. "Natural."

His fingers searched lower, finding her slit. The lips were swollen, slick with more than just lake water. He traced along them gently at first, learning their shape.

Then he found her clit.

The small nub pulsed beneath his touch. Pathan rubbed it in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to make Devika's entire body jerk in his arms.

"Oh..." The moan tore from her throat, cutting off their kiss. She couldn't maintain the connection—couldn't focus on anything except the sensation of his fingers working her pussy under the water and floating saree.

Pathan increased the pressure, his circles growing faster. His other hand gripped her ass, holding her steady as she began to squirm.

"Pathan..." His name emerged as a desperate plea.

His fingers moved from her clit to her entrance, circling the opening before starting to work her panties lower. The thin fabric slid down her thighs, impeded by water and their position.

Devika's eyes flew open. "Wait—you're going to lose my panty in the lake!"

"No worries." Pathan's voice carried dark amusement. He worked the fabric lower, past her knees, finally freeing it completely. "The entire night your pussy needs to hold my dick. You won't need panties."

The crude promise sent heat flooding through Devika's core despite the water's coolness. She smiled and pulled him into another kiss, surrendering to the logic.

While his mouth moved against hers, Devika's own hands explored beneath the water. Her palms found his ass—firm muscle covered by smooth skin. She squeezed, marveling at the difference between male and female bodies, the hardness where she was soft.

Pathan's fingers returned to her pussy. This time two digits pressed inside simultaneously, stretching her entrance. The water made the penetration smoother, easier, his fingers sliding deep.

"Oh my god, Pathan..." Devika broke the kiss, her head falling back as she moaned. "Your fingers are so fucking perfect inside me, stretching me open slow and deep."

The explicit words drove him wild. His fingers pumped faster, curling slightly to find the spot inside her that made her vision blur. The water created resistance, making each thrust deliberate and powerful.

Devika's hands explored his ass crack now, her fingers tracing the valley there just as his had done to her. She felt the puckered skin of his hole, rubbing gently.

"Yesyesyes..." She couldn't form complete sentences anymore. "Keep doing that—your fingers feel so damn good sliding in and out."

Pathan's fingers worked her thoroughly. He explored every inch he could reach—the slick walls gripping him, the spot that made her cry out, the rhythm that made her thighs tremble. His thumb found her clit, rubbing circles while his fingers continued their internal assault.

"Right there..." Devika's nails dug into his shoulders. "Don't stop, you're hitting it perfect."

Her own finger pressed slightly against his asshole, not penetrating but teasing the sensitive ring of muscle. The sensation made Pathan's cock jerk violently between them, leaking fresh precum into the water.

"Goddamn..." His moan matched hers in desperation. "Your fingers tracing my crack... making me leak already."

They stared at each other, faces inches apart, exchanging moans and filthy encouragement. The moonlight caught the water droplets on their skin, making them both glow silver.

Devika's finger rubbed more deliberately at his hole, applying gentle pressure. "Keep squeezing," Pathan groaned. "Tease my hole with those hands."

"You like that?" She pressed slightly harder, feeling the muscle flutter.

"Fuck yes."

Spurred by her touch, Pathan increased his own speed. Three fingers now pumped into her pussy, stretching her wider. His thumb worked her clit with increasing pressure, driving her toward the edge.

The pleasure built too fast, too intense. Devika couldn't control her reactions anymore. Her mouth opened against his shoulder and she bit down—not hard enough to break skin but enough to leave marks, enough to ground herself against the overwhelming sensations.

Pathan adjusted his grip, steadying her more securely on his hips. His fingers withdrew from her pussy, leaving her empty and aching. Then she felt it—the blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

"Are you going to fuck me?" The question emerged breathless, half plea and half demand.

"No." His voice strained with restraint. "Just a little tease."

He moved her hips, rubbing her pussy along the length of his cock. The hard shaft slid through her folds, coating itself with her arousal. Then he positioned the head at her entrance and pushed—just the tip, just enough to stretch her slightly before withdrawing.

The teasing drove Devika mad with need. "Pathan, I love you."

The words surprised them both. They hung in the air for a heartbeat before Devika continued.

"Fuck me. Please."

"Yes."

Pathan thrust upward while pulling her hips down. His cock buried itself completely in one smooth stroke, stretching her around his girth. They both cried out—the sensation of finally being joined overwhelming everything else.

He kissed her hard, swallowing her moans as he began to move. His hips thrust upward while his hands guided her movements, creating a rhythm. The water added resistance, making each stroke deliberate and deep.

Devika clung to him, her legs locked around his waist as he fucked her under the moonlit lake. The position hit different angles than she'd ever experienced—his cock driving up into her while gravity pulled her down, creating perfect friction.

After several minutes of this aquatic coupling, Pathan stilled. He withdrew carefully, his cock sliding free with a wet sound. Supporting her weight, he waded back toward shore.

When they reached shallow water, he lowered her feet to the ground. Her legs shook, barely supporting her weight. Pathan guided her out of the lake, water streaming from their bodies.

He led her to the ancient tree—the same one where they'd sheltered from the rain. Positioning her before it, his hands pressed between her shoulder blades.

"Bend forward. Hold the tree."

Devika obeyed, placing her palms against rough bark. The position bent her at the waist, her ass lifting invitingly as her chest pressed toward the trunk. She turned her head, looking back over her shoulder at Pathan.

He stood behind her, his eyes fixed on her raised ass. His hands found the wet saree bunched at her hips and lifted, exposing her completely from waist down.

"Fuck..." The word emerged reverent. "I've only seen an ass this clean and perfect in porn movies."

His hands explored the curves before him—squeezing, spreading, admiring. The moonlight painted her brown skin silver, highlighting every dip and swell.

"Do you go to a gym?" Genuine curiosity colored his question.

"No." Devika's voice came out breathless. "Why?"

"Because this is so sexy. So perfectly shaped." His palms cupped her cheeks, lifting and releasing to watch them bounce. "How is it possible without training?"

Devika smiled despite her vulnerable position. "Maybe it's a Kerala thing."

The answer delighted Pathan. His hand drew back and landed a sharp slap on her right cheek.

The crack echoed across the water. Devika groaned—part pain, part arousal. The sting spread across her skin, warming it.

Before she could process the sensation, Pathan's cock pressed against her entrance. He thrust forward, burying himself completely in one stroke. The force pushed Devika harder against the tree, bark scbanging her palms.

"Oh god!" Her moan tore through the night.

Pathan gripped her hips and began fucking her in earnest. His pelvis slammed against her ass with each thrust, creating rhythmic impacts that made the flesh jiggle. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with their combined moans.

He established a punishing pace—hard and fast, driven by hours of teasing and denied release. His cock stretched her with each forward drive, the angle hitting spots that made stars burst behind Devika's eyes.

His hand landed another slap on her ass—harder this time. The pain mixed with pleasure, creating a cocktail of sensation that pushed Devika closer to the edge.

"Pathan!" She couldn't form complete sentences. "Fuck—yes—harder—"

He obliged, his hips moving faster. Each thrust ended with his groin crashing against her ass, the impact making her entire body jerk forward. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, using the leverage to pull her back onto his cock with each stroke.

Another slap. Then another. The sharp cracks punctuated his thrusts, Pathan alternating between spreading pleasure and pain across her ass cheeks. Each impact made Devika groan louder, her sounds echoing across the moonlit lake.

The tree bark bit into her palms but she barely noticed, too consumed by the overwhelming sensations. Pathan's cock filled her completely, stretching her around his girth, hitting depths she didn't know existed. The position gave him complete control, allowed him to use her body for his pleasure while somehow delivering even more to her.

"Your ass..." Pathan's words emerged broken between thrusts. "Bouncing... perfect... mine..."

Another slap landed, this one hard enough to make Devika cry out sharply. The sting bloomed across her skin, adding to the symphony of sensations threatening to overwhelm her completely.

Her pussy clenched around him, muscles beginning to flutter with the approach of orgasm. Pathan felt the change, the way her body gripped him tighter, and increased his pace impossibly further.

The night filled with their sounds—moans and groans and the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh. The ancient tree bore witness to their coupling, moonlight painting their joined bodies in shades of silver and shadow.

[fuckandforget]

Devika should make the birthday boy to wear his born birth day dress (nude) and place his head in her vagina the place where he came from. very hotttt

[cobain7799]

OMG..... it was worth the wait..... erotic masterpiece...... beautifully narrated...... as if watching it in person..... kudos to your writing.......

[pro10]

Nearly lost all hope of getting updates but you came with renewed vigour. Thanks for this awesome update.

[Thilka]

Super update complete this episode please

[unknownperson]

Atlast author has heard the requests.....

Thanks for the update brooooo.....

Eagerly waiting to see this ramlal and devika episode nextttt.....

 

[momass]

nice update

[Sage_69]

This update was extraordinary. Loved the chemistry.

[Paul5]

Superb excellent update

[jakdommy5655]

Too Good, please continue, include watchman as well.

[jakdommy5655]

please update

[unknownperson]

Update broooo plzz.....

[Srikanthitis]

The best one bro?

[Srikanthitis]

Yhe encounters between Devika and Ramalal are the best