Adultery The Differential Equations of Lust : A Math Teacher's Web

[abcturbine]

Superb.....i am damn fn of your writings skills.....superb....break every line of kinkiness....ufff
....so hot..
Looking forward for more and more depravity and kinkiness....

[ZareenK]

Superb.....i am damn fn of your writings skills.....superb....break every line of kinkiness....ufff
....so hot..
Looking forward for more and more depravity and kinkiness....

Thank you so much. The next update is coming together, and I’m hoping to share it in the next few days.

[ZareenK]

Exquisite! Scorching and Tantalizing!  

Thank you!

[ZareenK]

Update?

Stay tuned. Update coming soon.

[ZareenK]

Fucking hot 

Thank you.

[ZareenK]

Waiting for the next update!

Update?

Update coming up!

[ZareenK]

Next update lands tonight. 
          Intense. Kinky. 
Reader discretion advised.

[ZareenK]

Update 28:

High Kink Warning - Not for Faint Hearted

Meanwhile, in the living room, as soon as Ajay had retreated down the hallway, the two slutty, depraved, and shameless mature teachers, Tarannum and Tanzeer, both naked except for their high-heeled sandals, couldn't wait to reliish their so-called "ass-lassi." Their faces, flushed with excitement, reflected the macabre delight that only those with a deep-seated love for the obscene could understand. They were like vultures circling their prey, their eyes glinting with a hunger that was as primal as it was twisted.

They looked at each other with a silent understanding that only those who shared such perverse tastes could comprehend. Tarannum took the pitcher from Tanzeer's trembling hands, her eyes never leaving her friend's as they shared a knowing smile. "What do you suggest, Tanzeer begum?" she asked with a wicked smile, her slurring voice low and sultry. "Should I pour it into glasses, or should we sip directly from the pitcher?"

Tanzeer returned her smile with one equally wicked and brief, "glasses!," she murmured, her eyes not leaving the crystal pitcher filled with the vile concoction. Her heart was racing with the anticipation of what was to come.

Tarannum nodded, her hands still trembling slightly from a mix of excitement and the whiskey they had been guzzling down all evening. In the same squatting position, she slowly turned to face the coffee table on her right, her eyes never leaving the crystal pitcher that held the vile concoction. With a flick of her wrist, she began to pour the golden concoction into the same two glasses that they had earlier used for their whiskey.

The sound of the fluid splashing into the glasses was almost musical to their depraved ears, each drop a symphony of depravity that seemed to resonate through the air. Tarannum carefully filled both the glasses almost to the brim. Still enough was left in the pitcher for another round, and her eyes lingered on the small brown blob that floated in it. She licked her lips greedily, the anticipation making her pulse quicken. "Now, who gets this little delicious gulab-jamun?" she teased, smacking her lips and eyeing the foul treat with a perverse hunger.

“Harami kuttiya!” Tanzeer snapped, feigning anger, her eyes flashing with a wild hunger. She gently kicked Tarannum’s ass with her high-heeled sandal, still eliciting a yelp from her. “We’re going to share it like the two lovebirds before the second round, you greedy whore!” The words were spat out with a mix of playfulness and genuine desire, the kind of language that had become as natural as breathing between them.

Tarannum chuckled, her cheeks flushing at the affectionate insult. She placed the pitcher back on the coffee table with a gentle thud.  With a grace that belied her inebriation, she handed one of the filled glasses to Tanzeer, who took it with trembling hands. Tarannum then picked up her own glass and settled down onto the sofa beside her friend, their bare thighs brushing against each other's.

They both clicked their glasses together in a perverse toast to their depravity, and then took a deep, deliberate sip of the foul brew. The liquid was warm and thick, a vile symphony of flavors that seemed to dance on their tongues and down their throats. Tanzeer's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she swallowed, a low moan escaping her lips. "Subhan allaah," she murmured, the words sounding almost like a prayer. "This is... so… so ruhaani," she managed, her voice thick with lust.

Tarannum, equally lost in the moment, nodded in agreement, her eyes never leaving her friend's. "Masha allaah," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "This is like aab-e-baqaa… so invigorating." Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, as she suckled on a small, brown nugget that had floated into her mouth along with the first sip of the drink, savoring the foul taste as if it were the most exquisite delicacy. “And this garnish from your gaand is so laziiz,” she said, sticking her tongue out to show Tanzeer the proof of her claim, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tanzeer giggled, the sound tinkling like a set of chimes in the otherwise quiet room, and said to Tarannum, "You see now, bitch, who's the real kinkiest slut here?" She took another sip of the drink, her eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and lust. "You whores relish this shit more than I do," she added with a smirk, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. As she spoke, her sandalled foot glided along Tarannum's bare leg, the leather's friction sending a delightful shiver up Tarannum's spine. In the same breath, Tanzeer took another big sip from her glass, savoring the shit infused pee that seemed to be elixir of immortality flowing down her throat.

Tarannum felt a mix of excitement and arousal. She couldn't deny the thrill that surged through her veins each time they indulged in their twisted rituals. With a sly smile, she shot back, "You're the one who introduced us to this amazing pleasure, kamiini randi!” Tarannum giggled, taking a long, slow sip of the “ass-lassi” and swirling it in her mouth before swallowing. She licked her lips, savoring the vile taste.

“And while we do it occasionally, you do it every single day, bhenchodi kuttiya!!! You relish drinking your own piss every day in the bathroom… and not only that, but you keep scratching and poking your asshole with your fingers whenever you get the chance, just to lick and clean them throughout the day for that delicious shit flavor!" Tarannum said tauntingly, her words slurred by the whiskey and drugs, as she took another sip from her glass, her eyes locked onto Tanzeer's.

Tanzeer remained unfazed by Tarannum’s snide remark, feeling no embarrassment whatsoever. She never had any qualms about her kinky habits, which she had been indulging in for years behind the closed doors of her respectable life. In fact, Tarannum’s words seemed to ignite a new spark of arousal within her. With a haughty smile, she took another sip of the 'ass-lassi', the foulness of the concoction seemingly only adding to her thrill. "Oh indeed I do, chhinal kuttiya," Tanzeer retorted arrogantly, her eyes glinting with a mischievous fire.

"We... we all have our... our addictions, don't we?" Tanzeer’s said mockingly, her words slurred by the potent mix of whiskey and and the potent high from their earlier indulgences. “"And I... I... I just love... I revel, I do, in golden showers, pee-drinking, a bit... bit of light scat, you know? It's... it's like... it gives me such a kick, oh mere maulaa, it does, it really does... makes me so... so... horny!" she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with perverse excitement.

“B...b...but, let me, let me tell ya somethin'... haraam... haraam ki... laudi... something... something that... that really... really gets me goin'... ya know, gets me goin." She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Tarannum's neck. "I... I don't j-just... drink pee, y'know? Sometimes, when I'm all alone in my kitchen, and... and I'm craving that... that special... something... I, uh, I even cook... my rice, b-b-biryani, mutton, or... noodles... in my p-p... pee... all s-simmered to perfection in... in my own golden n-nectar... marinate chicken in it, and then, I... I bake it... and eat it like that... the taste... al..llah kasam, it's heavenly... heavenly, I tell ya...!" Tanzeer's confession hung in the air, her voice unsteady and slurred with mix of passion ad the effects of the drugs and alcohol.

Wicked amusement danced in Tarannum's eyes as she processed Tanzeer's confession. She found the idea of cooking in piss, not only intriguing but also incredibly arousing. It was a new level of depravity and the thought of the taboo act sent a shiver of excitement through her body. She leaned in and kissed Tanzeer hard on the lips, and whispered, "...You dirty slut... I... I can guess... 'cause you're the... the one... who got... got us all... all hooked... on... adding... piss... piss in our whiskies... and, and... other spirits!" Her words slurred by the alcohol and the excitement of the revelation.

With that, the air between them grew charged. The tension from their earlier spat dissipated as they found themselves drawn into their shared love for the kinky taboo. Tanzeer took the mouthful of the remaining "aab-e-baqaa," the thick fluid rolling in her mouth along with the small nuggets of shit. Her eyes never leaving Tarannum's, she leaned in, and placed her lips on Tarannum's, and gently pushed the mouthful into her friend's welcoming mouth.

Tarannum closed her eyes and received the foul gift with a moan of pleasure, her tongue eagerly meeting Tanzeer's as they swirled the disgusting concoction together in a dance of depravity. Their mouths were a cauldron of filth, mixing and swirling the vile liquid until there was no way to discern where one mouthful ended and another began. The two debauch and licentious teachers were lost in a symphony of tastes and sensations that only two such depraved souls could appreciate.

The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, as they shared the 'ass-lassi' in a way that was as intimate as it was repugnant. Their tongues danced around the shit chunks, passing them back and forth along with golden elixir, savoring the taste of each other’s mouths until there was nothing but their saliva and the memory of the foul drink left to exchange. They broke the kiss, both breathing heavily, their eyes glazed over with a mix of drunkenness and perverse ecstasy.

Leaning forward, Tanzeer placed her empty glass on the coffee table with a gentle clink, her hand unsteady. She watched as Tarannum mirrored her action, emptying her own glass in her mouth with a final gulp. Tarannum's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she pressed her mouth to Tanzeer's, their lips again meeting in a sticky kiss that spoke of the depravity they shared. The thick slimy piss and the shit chunks passed between their mouths once more, mixing with their saliva as they swapped the last drops of the foul concoction.

Tarannum pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips and put her empty glass on the table. There was still enough of the slimy cocktail of Ajay’s cum and piss and Tanzeer’s shit in the pitcher for another round. The "gulab-jamun" - a small brown blob of shit, floating in it - was looking at the two raunchy, kinky mature teachers with a silent, perverse invitation. They both stared at it, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that could never be fully satiated by any normal means.

"Now, w-whoooo... gets thiiiis little d-delicacy?" Tarannum taunted, her eyes locked onto the brown blob in the pitcher. “Weee... agreeded t' share iiiit, 'member kuttiy'a kii gaaand...?” Tanzeer’s slurring voice was a seductive purr, her gaze never leaving the floating treat. She licked her lips, her sandal tapping impatiently against the floor.

Leaning in closer to the pitcher, with a swift, almost predatory motion, Tanzeer scooped the small brown blob of shit from the pitcher with her thumb and forefinger. It sat delicately on her fingertips like a piece of precious jewelry, as if it were a prize to be cherished rather than the foulest of human excretions.

With a knowing smirk, Tanzeer offered it to Tarannum, who leaned in eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The tip of Tarannum's tongue darted out, flicking against the shit-covered digit. The taste was sharp and bitter, but she closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure, her mind swirling with the dark thrill of it all. Tanzeer watched, her own tongue darting out to join in the tasting, the two of them sharing the filth like it was the most decadent of delicacies.

Their scarlet lips closed around the shit-ball, and they began to suck and lick in unison, their mouths moving in a slow, sensual dance of depravity. The shit ball grew smaller with every pass of their tongues, their teeth occasionally grazing against it, sending jolts of perverse pleasure through their bodies. Their water-proof lipsticks had remained unsmudged throughout the evening's debauchery, maintaining their facade of decency even as they indulged in the most heinous of acts.

The taste was as potent and intoxicating as ever, a flavor they had come to crave. It overwhelmed their senses, sending waves of perverse pleasure through their bodies and heightening their already feverish arousal. As the shit ball disappeared into their mouths, the slutty mature teachers didn't stop their depraved kiss. They continued to explore each other's mouths with a hunger that seemed to only grow with each passing second.

They were no longer two socially respected teachers but two ravenous creatures consumed by their dark desires. The intensity of the flavor was like a drug to them, a potent aphrodisiac that had them craving for more. Their tongues danced around the shit-stained teeth and gums, exploring every nook and cranny with a passion that seemed almost feral. The only sound in the room was their slurping and smacking of lips, the occasional gasp, and the soft moans that escaped their throats as they enjoyed their twisted communion.

The pair of dissolute and licentious teachers, utterly lost in their debauched escapade, had completely dismissed Ajay, the adolescent object of their desires, who was now sleeping soundly in the bedroom. They were in a world of their own, oblivious to the young boy's presence, a realm where the only thing that mattered was the depraved sexual pleasure they derived from the piquant flavors of shit that hightened their carnality.

Tarannum's hand slid down to Tanzeer's waist, her fingers tracing the curve of her hip, her nails digging gently into the flesh. Tanzeer responded by wrapping her arms around Tarannum's neck, her sandals clattering on the floor as she shifted closer, grinding her crotch against her friend's thigh.

When their lips finally parted, they sat back, their bodies slack against the back of sofa. Both Tarannum and Tanzeer were panting gently, their chests rising and falling rapidly. tongues and the potent scent in their nostrils. The corners of their mouths were wet with saliva, and they smacked and licked their lips, savoring the lingering tastes of shit and piss on their tongues and the potent scent in their nostrils.

Their faces, flushed with lust, had a glow to them, a kind of rapture that spoke of a dark pleasure beyond the ordinary. Their eyes had a hazy sheen, reflecting the depths of depravity they had just explored together. Their cunts had grown wet and slick with need, a silent declaration of the burgeoning need that pulsed through their veins.

“Shubhaaann… Allaaahh,” Tarannum murmured, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savored the lingering taste of the shit-gulab-jamun. "Thaanks, b’tchh…" she added with a smile that was both sultry and sinister. “Mazaa aa gayyaa bhenchodi… it’s f-fuckin’ amaaaazing, th’ taste of thissh shhhit… it’sh like nothin’ elsse. Not th’ shit-smearred dildo.oes an’ cocks I had th’ pleashure of tastin’, nor th’ succulent littl’ shit nuggetsss I been devourin’ time an’ agaaain.” She slurred, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. "It’ss like a d-drug… a delishhous, filthyy h-highhh…" She moaned again, closing her eyes. "Thisss… ishh puurrr heaaaven…" With a wicked laugh, she opened her eyes and looked at Tanzeer. "“I nevver knew… how muchh I needed thish. Why’d I waait so long… t’ taste the biiig, juiicy shhhit?”"

Tanzeer chuckled herself, feeling the bliss from the depraved act. “Noww you reallize why I’m sooo crazy ‘bout it, you slutt…” she said, her slurred words thick with the accent of pleasure. “Looksss like you’re now realiiizin’… th’ pleashure of my nawabi-zaaayqe…” she laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Tarannum nodded eagerly, her eyes never leaving Tanzeer’s. “Yess, yess, begum sahibaa… I’m goin’ to indulge in th’ nawabi zayqe quite off’n now… I love thish… thish… shit-eatin’… it’s like nothin’ I’ve everrr felt before!” Her voice was thick with desire, each word slurred and heavy with the intoxication.

Tanzeer giggled in a silly, tipsy manner. Her eyes gleamed with lustful amusement at Tarannum's unbridled enthusiasm. "F-fuckin’ righht… you chhudaasshi… kuttiyaa…" she slurred, her voice thick with the haze of intoxication. "These… nawabi-shauq… ain’t for th’ faint-heart’d… It takes true… shahi-begumsss like uss… to indulge… an’ appreciaaate such… suchh… nawabi-zaayqe…”.

With that, she slipped down from the sofa, her plump breasts swaying with the movement, and leaned over the coffee table. “Let’ss… toast to your new-found shauq… you chhinaal… chhudaashi kuttiyaa… with thish… remainin’… aab-e-kausar…” Tanzeer said, her words thick and slurred as she held the crystal pitcher with a wobbly hand. She poured the remaining concoction into the two glasses.

Her smile faded as she saw the glasses were only half-filled. “Fuckkk bhenchod…” she swore under her breath, the disappointment clear in her slurred speech. She glanced over her shoulder at Tarannum, her eyes half-lidded with desire and a hint of irritation. mischief. "Loo’kshh… loo’kshh like… we ran outta… r-ran ou’ta… our nawabi… gaaand-shhaaake… our… our shhhhit cocktaaail…” she drawled, tongue loose, words slurring and sloppy.

But Tarannum had an idea, a wicked, naughty sparkleat their shared history of mixing alcohol with the darkest of fluids. in her eye. She looked at Tanzeer and slurred, "Fuuuckkk it yaaar… jus’ top off these glasshesh with bourbon…” She gestured lazily to the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting proudly on the coffee table. “We… we done it… sooo many damn timesh before… our… our very own… shpe-shial cocktaaaail… pissh… or a-assh-shake… with whishhkey… It’s… it’s like… like a… a… sig-na-ture drink… for ushh… four… four shhhhlutty begumsss!" Her voice was thick and slurred, as she hinted at their past escapades of mixing alcohol with their depraved bodily fluids.

Tanzeer’s eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of their 'signature cocktail'. She giggled, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Ohhh, yaaar… how shhilly of meh… I lovvve our shhignature cocktaaaail… sho muchhh!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbly with excitement. With a surprising agility, given her inebriated state, she reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels and, with a flourish that was both clumsy and dramatic, she topped up both glasses.

The golden whiskey glinted in the soft light of the living room, mingling with the brown of the piss and shit to create a truly unique cocktail. Turning back slightly, Tanzeer turned back slightly, her sandal-clad feet shifting on the floor, and offered one of the filled glasses to Tarannum with a knowing smile. The tiny chunks of shit were suspended in the brown cocktail, bobbing slightly in the murky liquid. Tarannum took the glass, her own high heeled sandal tapping out an eager rhythm on the floor.

Holding her own glass aloft, Tanzeer clambered to her feet, her high-heeled sandals clicking against the marble floor as she swayed slightly. She plopped down on the sofa next to Tarannum, the leather squeaking beneath her. The two women, their friendship forged in the fires of depravity, clinked their glasses together in a toast to their shared perversions. They leaned in closer, their arms entwined like lovers, and brought the glasses to their lips in unison. The smell of whiskey, mixed with the faint scent of piss and shit, filled the air as they sipped the foul brew.

Their eyes locked as the potent liquid trickled down their throats, the taste of it setting their nerves alight with a dark, carnivorous hunger that seemed to pulse in rhythm with their racing hearts. They savored each mouthful, the sharp, bitter flavor of their concoction melding with the smooth fire of the bourbon in a symphony of depravity that only they could fully appreciate.

After savoring a couple of sips, they couldn’t resist each other any longer. Tarannum leaned in, her full lips parting slightly, and Tanzeer met her eagerly, their glasses still in hand. Their mouths collided in a wet, sloppy kiss, tongues darting out to tangle together, sharing the foul taste of their signature cocktail. For a few seconds, they forgot everything else, lost in the intimate dance of their mouths. The whiskey-soaked kiss grew deeper, more passionate, as they swirled the liquid in their mouths, tasting the shit and piss intermingling with the smoky flavor of the bourbon.

Breaking away for air, Tanzeer looked at Tarannum with a glint of excitement in her eyes. “T’rannum… d-daarlin’…, f-fire up that chillummm… with shome freshhh gaaaanjaaa…” she slurred, her hand gesturing to the small, clay pipe sitting on the coffee table.

Tarannum chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “N-nahi… madar-chodi… we’re alrrready buzzed… ‘nough… let’sh save the chillum… f’r laterrr,” she slurred, placing a hand on Tanzeer’s arm to steady her. “I got… got some… Cuban cigaarsh stashed away… tha’… that’ll pair perfec’ly… with thish… fine bourbon cocktaaail… with our shpecial… ‘nawabi’ ingrediensss.”

Tanzeer’s eyes grew wide with excitement, her pupils dilating at the mention of Cuban cigars. “Cigaaarrssshh…? Cuban cigaaarrshh…? Woooww! You’re really goin’ all faaancy, chhinal” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and lust. She hadn’t had a cigar in years, and the thought of tasting the rich, earthy smoke of the finest Cuban tobacco was almost too much to bear. “Hurryy uppp… chut-maraniii… get ’em… get ’em here fasssttt…!” she urged, her voice thick with anticipation.

Tarannum giggled at Tanzeer’s impatience, her own head swimming with the potent mix of whiskey and depravity. She took a small sip from her glass, the liquid leaving a warm, bitter trail down her throat, and then gently placed the glass, more than half full, on the coffee table. As she stood up, the room swayed around her, clearly showing just how drunk she was. The sandals she wore, with their towering heels, clicked against the marble floor, adding a sultry rhythm to her staggered gait as she made her way to the adjoining dining room.

“Looook at youuu… you’re sooo ffffuckin’ druunk, daaaarlin’!” Tanzeer teased, her eyes greedily feasting on the sight of her friend's naked form wobbling drunkenly in those high heeled sandals. Her giggles echoed in the room. Tarannum’s voluptuous ass cheeks jiggled mesmerizingly with every drunken unsteady step she took in her super-high heeled sandals, the sight alone was enough to make Tanzeer’s mouth water with lust.

Tarannum’s lush and full boobs swayed precariously with every wobbly drunken step she took. Tanzeer couldn’t take her eyes off them, watching the hypnotic dance of flesh and gravity as they jiggled in sync with her friend’s plump ass cheeks. The sight was utterly mesmerizing, and she felt a warm surge of arousal between her own legs, her clit pulsing with need.

“I’m… fiiinee… ya bhench’di s-sluttt,” Tarannum slurred, a cheeky grin on her face as she leaned against the grand mahogany dining table to keep herself upright. The room spun slightly, but she managed to maintain her balance, the thrill of the moment adding to her tipsy amusement. She giggled again at her own wobbliness, as she made her way to the crockery cabinet.

The crockery cabinet was a veritable bastion of elegance that dominated the space with its towering presence. It was a majestic spectacle of meticulously crafted mahogany and gleaming glass, filled with an assortment of fine china and crystal. Its grandeur was further accentuated by the intricate carvings that, wove a tapestry of leaves and vines that danced along the edges of the cabinets and drew the eye upwards to the ornate cornice at its crown.

Tarannum reached it, her hand gliding over the cool surface of the wood, feeling the smoothness beneath her fingertips. The room spun a bit more, but she managed to keep her balance, giggling to herself all the while. She pulled the small wooden drawer open with a gentle tug, and inside, there was a small humidor, a treasure chest of dark, oily cigars from the sun-kissed fields of Cuba. A fancy cigar cutter lay beside it, its silver gleaming in the light.

Holding the humidor in one hand and the cutter in the other, she sashayed back to the drawing room, her unsteady steps echoing in the vastness of the hallway. Her high heels wobbled precariously with every step she took, the sound of the sandals clicking against the marble floor a stark contrast to the otherwise silent evening.

Tarannum saw Tanzeer savoring a sip from her glass, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy. The sight of her friend’s pleasure only fueled her own excitement. She couldn’t wait to light up one of those cigars and feel the warm, velvety smoke fill her mouth, mingling with the aftertaste of their signature cocktail.

Tanzeer heard Tarannum’s footsteps, the staccato beat of her high heeled sandals on the marble floor as she staggered back into the room, the humidor box in her hands a tantalizing promise of the decadent indulgence to come. Her eyes lit up with anticipation as she watched Tarannum weave through the opulent space, her movements a sensual dance of tipsy grace. The sight of the  humidor box, brought a wicked smile to her lips.

Tanzeer placed her glass, more than half full of their nawabi concoction, on the coffee table with a gentle thud. She patted the plush leather cushion next to her, her eyes never leaving Tarannum's as she beckoned her closer. "C’mere chhinaal... sit down," she slurred, the words coming out in a seductive drawl. 

Tarannum staggered as she made her way to the sofa, the alcohol and drugs making her movements sloppy yet strangely graceful. Her eyes never left Tanzeer’s, the two of them locked in a silent, carnally charged dance. She plopped down with a laugh, the leather sighing under her weight. With a gentle touch that conveyed deep reverence, she cradled the humidor box, her fingertips delicately outlining its refined contours, as though it held a treasure, her smile a mix of smugness and excitement.

She held the box out to Tanzeer, the gold emblem on the dark mahogany gleaming under the chandelier's light. "Pick’d these up… on m’ trip to Dubai… few monthsh ago…" Tarannum said with a smug smile, her words slightly slurred.

Tanzeer's eyes widened in awe as she took the box, her fingertips caressing the smooth wood. "F-fuckin’ hell… baap-chodii…" she whispered reverently, "Theshh… must be… ex-pen-shhiiive…!" The way she drew out the word 'expensive' made it sound like a delicious swear word, a declaration of wealth and indulgence.

Tarannum nodded proudly, her chin up. "Youu bet… chut-maraaaniii… thish box’a sixxx… cost me a fortune… rupees… twenty-fiive thouuusan’… but worth every bit… for a evening like thishh…" she slurred, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Tanzeer’s laughter was like a bell, pealing through the haze of their inebriation. "Y’knowww… yer abba… an’ dadaaa… they’d be rollin’ in their graveshh… if they knewww… what their aiyaaaashhh chhinaaal beti… was blowin’ her inheritanceh onnn!" She giggled, her words a playful jab at Tarannum’s extravagant lifestyle, funded by her wealthy ancestry.

Tarannum's laugh was like a dark crescendo, a wicked crescendo of pure, unbridled mirth that seemed to fill the room. "Fuck 'em," she slurred, her voice a low purr of unfiltered disdain. "They’re dead anywaysss, might as well enjoy their monnneeey while I can!" She threw her head back, her cackle echoing off the high ceilings.

With surprising deftness for someone in an inebriated state, she placed the cigar cutter down on the sofa cushion between them, the silver glinting like a weapon of pleasure. The humidor clicked open with a gentle release of air, revealing the treasure within. Six luxurious cigars lay nestled in blue velvet, each one as long and thick as the desires they had been indulging in all evening. The rich, earthy scent of tobacco and leathery undertones filled the space, a heady aroma that seemed to thicken the already sultry atmosphere.

Tarannum’s eyes gleamed as she picked up one of the cigars, rolling it gently between her manicured thumb and forefinger. The tobacco was dark and oily, a testament to its quality, and the cigar felt almost alive in her grasp. She brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent that spoke of wealth and indulgence. Her eyes closed briefly as she let out a contented sigh, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her breaths. The cigar's smell was intoxicating, a seductive whisper of what was to come, and she felt a thrill run down her spine at the thought of the warm, velvety smoke filling her mouth.

With a knowing smirk, she passed the cigar to Tanzeer, who took it with an eager hand. Tanzeer’s eyes lit up as she took in the cigar’s length and girth, her mind racing with the parallels to so many cocks they had fucked. She rolled it between her own fingers, feeling the warmth of the tobacco and the promise of the pleasure it would bring. She held it to her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, the rich aroma of the cigar mingling with the faint scent of their earlier escapades.

In the meanwhile, Tarannum's hand hovered over the remaining cigars in the humidor, her gaze lingering on each one as if making a momentous decision. She selected a second cigar, and with a gentle touch, she closed the box and placed the humidor back on the table with the same care she had shown earlier. Then she picked up the guillotine cigar cutter and slid its two rings over her thumb and forefinger, the cold metal glinting in the light.

Holding the cigar gently in her other hand, she brought the cap to the cutter's sharp aperture, her movements precise and practiced. With a swift, confident motion, she squeezed her thumb and forefinger together, and the blades snapped shut with a soft, satisfying click. The cap of the cigar fell away, revealing the golden-brown tobacco beneath. She held the cigar to her nose and inhaled deeply, savoring the rich, aromatic bouquet that filled her senses.

With the same slow, deliberate motion, she passed the cigar back to Tanzeer, who took it with trembling fingers. Tarannum took the one Tanzeer had been holding and performed the same ritual, the cap falling away to reveal its own tempting treasure. Tarannum picked up the lighter with a slow, fluid motion, the flame dancing to life with a soft flick. Tanzeer brought the clipped cigar to her lips, her eyes locked with Tarannum’s in a moment thick with unspoken ritual. Leaning in, Tarannum held the flame steady at the tip, letting the heat kiss the tobacco as Tanzeer drew in, the end glowing to life with a faint crackle.

Once satisfied, Tarannum turned the flame to her own cigar, lighting it with the same deliberate grace. The air between them grew dense with the rich aroma of burning leaves and something far more electric. The thick cigar smoke filled their lungs with a weight far more intoxicating than cigarettes, and when they exhaled, it poured from their parted lips and nostrils in thick, overwhelming clouds. The dense plumes clung to the air, curling around them like a seductive mist, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and lust.

With their cigars now lit, they both picked up their glasses of the nawabi-cocktail of whiskey, piss, and shit, and took a deep sip, savoring the potent blend of flavors that danced on their tongues. They sank back into the plush embrace of the sofa, their legs entwined. The cigars between their fingers glowed like tiny fires, casting flickering shadows on their faces as they took deep drags and exhaled plumes of smoke that twirled in the air like serpents of pleasure.

The scene was a beautiful obscenity of contradiction—two women of polished public personas, both respected schoöl teachers, one known to veil herself in modesty with a burqa when in public. Now they were splayed out naked on the sofa, nothing on but high heels, their bodies slick with sweat and their minds clouded by booze and drugs. Thick cigar smoke filled the room, hanging in the air like filth, sticking to their skin and hair. They puffed without shame, exhaling heavy clouds through their noses, moaning softly between drags. In their hands, crystal glasses sloshed with a disgusting mix of bourbon, piss, and shit—and they drank it like it was a fine vintage, smirking through the dark, earthy warmth it left on their tongues. It was raw, filthy, and fucked up—a total collapse of every mask they wore in public, and they loved every second of it.

Their conversation was a tapestry of slurred Urdu slangs and filthy jokes that would make a cheap whore blush. Their laughter was raucous and unfiltered, the kind that comes from a deep place of shared depravity. They took turns telling the crudest jokes, each one trying to outdo the other, and with every punchline, they'd throw their heads back and howl. The words flowed out of them, a river of slang and obscenities that painted a vivid picture of their deepest, darkest desires. They recited lewd couplets of Urdu shayaris that spoke of sex in the crudest terms, the kind that you'd only hear in the seediest parts of town.  It was a dance of vulgarity that only two souls as twisted as theirs could perform.

They blew cigar smoke into each other's faces, as they laughed and talked. Each time Tarannum or Tanzeer took a drag, they'd tap their cigars on the rims, sending a shower of white ash into the murky depths of their drinks. The ash only added to the perverse flavor of their twisted concoction. They took sips, the ash dancing on the tips of their tongues before being swallowed with the rest of the foul liquid. 

Their conversation grew increasingly explicit, the air thick with the scent of their cigars and the unspoken tension of their shared secret. They spoke of their fantasies, of the things they'd do to Ajay, and to each other. It was a verbal foreplay that had their hearts racing, their breaths quickening.

In the next fifteen minutes or so, the golden liquid in their glasses vanished as if it had never been there, but the cigars remained, just a quarter of their length consumed. They had become extensions of the women's fingers, the smoke trailing from them like the whispers of their darkest thoughts. The empty glasses sat forgotten between their legs on the sofa. Their chatter grew more and more brazen and slurred, their laughter echoing through the quiet house.

Tanzeer, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark, took a long drag of her cigar before speaking. "Y’knowww… s-smokin’ thish… thishh thing… it’s like… like sssuckin’ off… a reaaal big, fattt…lunddd…," she said, her speech still thick with the effects of their concoction. She held the cigar between her fingers, mimicking a blowjob as she spoke.

Tarannum threw her head back and cackled, her sandals clacking against the floor as she shifted her weight, "Ohhh ‘course, bhai-chodiii… these cigaarsshh… they’re like lil’ dicks….But I bett… even these are bigger’n yer na-mard shauharrr!"

Tanzeer's laugh was like a shot of tequila, burning and raw. She leaned into Tarannum, her cigar waving wildly in the air, "You’re r-righttt… that bhonsdiii wala ganduuu… can’t even… satisfyyy his own damn handdd… let alone meee!" Her eyes danced with a mix of humor and spite as she took another deep drag, the tip of the cigar burning a fiery red in the dim light of the room.

Tarannum's wink was a sultry secret, a promise of something even more twisted than what they'd already shared. "Tell… tell you whuhhh… bhenchhooodiii…” she purred, her voice a siren's call through the smoke-filled haze. "M-myy chhooot… lovvesshh smokin’ cigaarss… ’lmost ashh muchhh as she… lovesss a good… fuck…" She drew the cigar from her mouth and let it hover just above her mound, the heat of the glowing tip caressing her skin. She was now slurring so badly that it was hard to make out her words.

Tanzeer's eyes widened, the smoke from her cigar curling around her face like a question mark. "Haraam ki… laudi… kuttiaaa!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of doubt and excitement. "How thhhhe fuck doesh your chhoot… smoke a cigarr?"

Tarannum giggled, the sound as naughty as a schoöl-girl sharing a dirty secret. She took another drag from her cigar, the tip glowing red, while spreading her legs more widely, revealing the dampness between them. She brought one of her hands down to her glistening cunt and began to rub herself, her fingers coated in the sticky wetness that had been building from their lewd conversation. Tarannum took the cigar from her mouth, the one that had been stained with her lipstick, and held it up to Tanzeer with a wicked glint in her eye.

“Chal bhenchhooodiii, I’ll show ya," Tarannum giggled.  She took another deep drag from her cigar, holding the smoke in her lungs as if to fuel her next move. With a mischievous smirk, she took the cigar out of her mouth and holding it between her two fingers, brought it closer to her pussy and held it just above the entrance, teasing the air around it.

Dragging on her own cigar, Tanzeer watched in amazement as Tarannum pushed it into her wet folds. The tip of the cigar, stained with Tarannum's lipstick, disappeared into her pussy with ease. Then, as if alive, the ember at the cigar's end began to glow, a deep, fiery red, as Tarannum's cunt clamped down around it. The sight was so unexpected, so utterly depraved, that Tanzeer's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock and fascination.

Tarannum's cheeky smile grew wider as she  withdrew the cigar slowly, and the smoke billowed out, thick and white, like a perverse genie released from a bottle of debauchery. She repeated this act of depravity a few more times, her cunt gripping the cigar tightly, as if it were alive, eager for another taste of the forbidden. Each time she inserted the cigar into herself, the ember at the tip flared up, and when she removed it, the thick smoke would escape her cunt, filling the air with a scent that was a twisted blend of tobacco and her arousal. It was as if her cunt was puffing the cigar like a mouth, relishing every drag.

Tanzeer watched, her eyes glazed with a mix of shock, awe, and unbridled lust. "Ohhh… saaaliii… rannn-diii… ku-kuttiyaa…" she breathed, her voice thick with desire, "Thasss… s-so… fuckin’… hooottt…!" Her hand strayed to her own pussy, her fingers sliding through the wetness. Her own cunt quivered at the sight, begging for its turn. “I… I wanna dooo that too…!”

Tarannum leaned over, her cigar dangling precariously from her fingers, the smoke coiling around her like a serpent. "Yeh, bhenchhooodiii," she said with a lecherous smile, her eyes never leaving Tanzeer's face, "Yehhh… I knewww you would…"

With a grace that belied her inebriated state, Tarannum slid off the couch, landing on her knees before Tanzeer. Her high heeled sandals clinked against the marble floor, a sharp sound that echoed through the room. “Here… l-let me showww you the… the trickkk, sluttt…" she said, her voice a throaty purr. “Itt’ss all… all about howww you hold it… and how tighttt… your cunt… squueezeesss…."

Tanzeer’s eyes were wide with anticipation as she brought her cigar closer to her own cunt. She watched intently as Tarannum guided her, whispering instructions that were as sensual as they were depraved. "Iinnssert… jusht a lil’ bitt… bhenchhoooodiii…" Tarannum murmured, her voice as smooth as silk. "Le’ yer… chooot… take a lil’ draaaag… Jusht like you would… with your mouthhh..."

Tanzeer took a shaky breath, the cigar trembling in her hand. She leaned back, parting her legs slightly wider, and positioned the cigar at the entrance of her pussy. She took a moment, her mind racing with a mix of doubt and excitement, before she inserted the end of the cigar into her cunt. She bit her lower lip, her eyes never leaving Tarannum’s for guidance. With a nod from her friend, she clamped down, trying to mimic the motion she had just seen.

The cigar slid in with surprising ease, but the drag she was supposed to create was elusive. She pushed and pulled at the cigar, her cunt muscles quivering with the effort, but the ember remained stubbornly unlit. "Nottt like thaat… kutta-chhuudi… chhhinalll…" Tarannum taunted, her words stoking the fire of Tanzeer's determination. “You’vehh got to… contract your chooot musshhles… tighttt on it... m-make… airtight… seeeal… an’ then… applyy draggg… like you’re suckin’ a… realll… lund…!"

Tanzeer took another deep breath and focused, her cheeks flushing with arousal. She tried again, her cunt tightening around the cigar. This time, she managed to create the suction, her muscles working in unison to mimic the motion of drawing on the cigar. The cigar's end glowed a fiery red, and she felt the smoke filling her up, the sensation unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She paused for a moment, savoring the feeling before she pulled out the cigar. And then, a heavy plume of smoke escaped from between her pretty pussy lips, directly into Tarannum’s face.

Tanzeer giggled, a sound that was half-surprise, half-pleasure, "T’rannum… kutttiyaa… I did ittt!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pride. Her eyes were glazed with excitement as she looked down at the cigar, which was still nestled in her pussy. She repeated the action several times, each drag sending a fresh wave of smoke billowing out of her cunt, filling the room with an intoxicating aroma that was part tobacco, part arousal.

“Mashaaalllahhh… wellll donne… chudakkadiii… kuttiii…" Tarannum cackled, her own cigar still nestled between her fingers, a proud grin stretching her lips. She watched as Tanzeer’s pussy puffed out smoke like a steam engine, her eyes alight with a mischievous glint. "You’re… natuuural at thishh!"

Tarannum stood up wobblingly, and took her place back on the sofa, spreading her legs wide once more. She took a deep drag on her cigar, the tip burning brightly, before lowering it to her shaved pussy and pushed the cigar into herself with the same ease she had shown before. The smoke billowed out of her, thick and white, mixing with the haze in the room.

The two of them sat back on the plush couch, their legs spread wide, cigars buried in their wet cunts, the embers of their cigars burning fiercely as their cunts contracted around the cigars, inhaling and exhaling, the smoke billowing out of their shaved pussies in thick, white clouds. It was a sight that would make any man, or woman, for that matter, drop to their knees in pure, unbridled lust. But here they were, two high-class, high-heeled bitches, indulging in their perverse little game like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Every few drags, they’d pull the cigars out of their soaking cunts, bringing the saturated ends to their lips to indulge in a deep, sensual smoke, the taste of their own arousal mixing with the rich tobacco. They’d blow the smoke out of their mouths, their cheeks hollowed, and then plunge the cigars back in their pussies. They were lost in their own world of sin, their adolescent student, Ajay, sleeping in the bedroom forgotten for the moment.

The empty glasses, once filled with their nawabi cocktail, still sat on the sofa between the two of them, now serving as makeshift ashtrays. Each time they puffed the cigars in their cunts or took a drag, they'd tap off the ash into the glasses. Their conversation once again turned to dirty jokes and shayari, their words slurred and interspersed with bursts of laughter that seemed to shake the very walls of the opulent living room.

Their cigars grew shorter and shorter until there was only a stub left, the smoke from their cunts now a thin trail, as if the embers of their desire were fading. But even as the cigars dwindled, the fire between their legs burned brighter. They'd become so engrossed in their twisted ritual that they'd lost track of time. The last of the cigars was consumed, the once fiery tips now a sad, blackened nub.

With a final, desperate drag, they both extinguished their cigars in their glasses, the sizzle of the hot ash on the remnants of their drinks piercing through their lustful haze. Tarannum and Tanzeer's eyes met, the hunger in their gazes unmistakable. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, mingling with the lingering cigar smoke that hung in the air like a sultry curtain.

They leaned into each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that was as fiery as the embers they had just snuffed out. Their tongues danced together, tasting the faint hint of tobacco and their own desire. Their hands roamed, exploring the familiar terrain of each other's bodies, as if they were charting the map of their own twisted desires. They kissed like long-lost lovers reunited, their bodies trembling with the anticipation of what was to come.

Tanzeer broke the kiss, her eyes alight with a hunger that could not be satiated by whiskey or cigars. "I… I waaant thaaat… boooy’sss… lunnDD…" she murmured, her voice thick with desire, Her hand slid down to her pussy, her fingers dancing over the slick flesh, her thumb circling her clit as if it were a treasured jewel. "I’m… dyinnn’ to… feeellll hisss… lunnnDD… …innnsside… meee…, …fiiillin’ meee up… liiike… a… hooottt…, ftoppin’… lollipooooppp…, tooo feeeellll… him… streeetch… meee ouuut… like nevvverr… befoooreee!” she said, her voice slurred from inebriation and passion.

Tarannum's eyes darkened, her own arousal reaching a fever pitch. "You… greeedyyy… kutttaaa-chhodiiiii… choootmaraani… saaliii…," she slurred, her hand sliding down to rub her clit with an urgency that matched Tanzeer's words. "Itt’s… myyy turnnn… nowww… you’ve alreaddyy had… hizz lunnD upp y’ooouuurrr choodakkaddiii gaaannD… Itt’s… myyy fuckiiin chooot’s turnnn tooo…. feeeellll…  thaaat… hooottt…, juuuiiiiicyyy… teen lunnD," she growled, her voice a seductive purr filled with a hint of challenge.

Tanzeer giggled, the sound low and dirty. “Unnhh… you calling me kutta-chodi...? Yaaalllaaahhh… howww I wishhh I had a chaaance… to beee one… I’d looove to be… a kutttaa-chuudiii...!” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she spoke, the slur in her voice only adding to the erotic allure of her words. “Imagiiine... a biggg, stuuurdy dooooggie... pumpin’ hishh…... hottt… juuuuicyyy... lunnD iin meeee…” She paused to suck in a breath, her hand moving faster on her clit. “Fuckin’ meeee… liiike… like I’vvve nevvvverrr… been fuucccked beeeefore... oh ya... ya... ya...”

Tarannum watched her friend, her own desire flaring up like a wildfire. “Ohhh yaa… yaaa… we all… wanna beee… kutttaa-chooodiii... dreamin’… ’bout thooose… biiiggg…, thhhiiicckkkk daawgh lunnnDs fiiillllingg…. ussh up... orrr eevvven… betttterrr…. thoose maaashiiv…. hooorrse orr… daawwnkkkyyy… coooocks... Inshaaaallllahhh… one day… we’llll gettt… ourrr chaaance…" she said with a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling with lust.

"Buttt… toniiighttt…," she continued, her voice low and sultry, "weee haave… Ajaaayyy... ourrr ownnn… li’l daawgh tooo plaaay wiiithhh…” Her eyes glinted with malicious glee as she glanced at the bedroom door where Ajay lay, oblivious to their twisted desires.

"Heeyyy Ajaaayyy… tiiime forrr the nekshtt rrouuund, behtaa!" Tanzeer hollered, her voice echoing through the house, filled with a ravenous hunger that had no room for subtlety or decorum. didn't realize that Ajay had actually succumbed to an exhausted sleep, drained from their previous encounter.

Tarannum and Tanzeer’s laughter filled the room, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they awaited Ajay's response. But the house remained silent, except for the distant sound of a car passing by. They exchanged puzzled glances, the haze of lust momentarily clearing from their minds. “Ajjjaaaiii... behhhtaaa… cuhhhmm out heeere…!" Tarannum hollored this time, her voice a mix of desire and annoyance. But still, no movement from the bedroom.

"Looooksh like… ourrr dooogie’s… deeeeep in shleeeeep…," Tanzeer slurred, a smirk playing on her lips. ”Shhould weee gooo in th’ beedroooommm… an’ fukh himmm therrr??" Her voice was a seductive purr, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic delight.

Tarannum's own voice was thick with lust as she nodded in agreement. "Thaaat’ss whaaat I wasss thinkin’ tooo… buuut let’ssh dooo a lil’ somethiiiingy… befoooor we goo in therrr…" she said, her speech as slurred as her friend's. "Let'ssh puuulll a coupl’ o’ liiiiinessh… maadhar-chodiii... it'll bee stimmmulatin’…"

Tanzeer's eyes lit up, her smile widening like a crescent moon. "Verrry gooood ideaa, T’rannum jaan’man… I neeeed’d thaaat… rushhh…" she slurred, her tongue feeling heavy from the whiskey.  "Sufed powd’r… gonna make chuudaaii... like, a hun’red times morrr... fuhhhhn… mmmm..."

They both wobbled off the sofa and leaned heavily on the coffee table, their high heels clacking against the polished marble floor as they adjusted their positions. Tarannum reached into the black bag, her hand shaking slightly with excitement, and pulled out a small, unassuming packet. She ripped it open with her teeth, half-spilling the white powder on the table. Her movements were no longer the calculated actions of a woman in control but the sloppy gestures of a drunk eager to indulge in her next high.

The sight of the cocaine sent a fresh jolt of anticipation through their veins. With a trembling hand, Tarannum used the credit card to create four lines, as neat as she could manage in her current state. Each line was a promise of pure euphoria, a pathway to heightened sensations that would only amplify their depraved intentions for the night. They leaned over the table, their high-heeled sandals clacking against the marble floor as they shifted to maintain their balance.

Tanzeer took the rolled-up five-hundred-rupee note, the same one they'd used earlier in the afternoon, from the coffee table. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply, her eyes watering as the cocaine hit her system like a lightning bolt. The powder burned its way into her brain, setting off a cascade of pleasure that rippled through her body, making her toes curl in her sandals. She snorted another line, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and passed the rolled-up note to Tarannum with a shaky hand.

Tarannum took the rolled-up note eagerly, her pupils dilated with excitement. She mirrored Tanzeer's actions, her own wobbly hand guiding the note to her nose. She took a hit, feeling the familiar rush as the coke seared her nasal passages and exploded in her brain. The women leaned against each other, their eyes fluttering shut for a moment, savoring the intense rush of pleasure that flooded their senses. The cocaine brought with it an enhanced sense of perception, intensifying every sensation to a level that felt incredibly vivid and exhilarating.

The premium bourbon whiskey and the top-shelf cigars, the drugs that they indulged in, were not cheap thrills. They were luxuries that spoke of wealth and indulgence. Yet, Tarannum never once considered charging her close friends for these decadent experiences. Her generosity was boundless, her desire to share her vices with them unconditional. Tanzeer, however, was not one to take such kindness for granted. She was acutely aware of the cost of the high-life they reveled in, and she made it a point to pay Tarannum back in her own way. Her gifts were often extravagant, tokens of her friendship and appreciation that ranged from designer purses and sandals to exquisite pieces of jewelry or sometimes even funding their occasional weekend escapades to luxurious resorts where they could indulge in their darkest desires. All the four friends were financially very well off, and money was never a problem for their indulgences.

With their heads spinning, Tarannum and Tanzeer kissed each other on the lips, a quick, sloppy kiss fueled by their shared euphoria. They both stood up, their high-heeled sandals clacking against the floor as the room seemed to tilt and sway around them. The bottle of Jack Daniel's was snatched from the coffee table by Tarannum for later indulgence. Consumed by the high of booze and drugs, the two butt naked, skanky and randy teachers staggered hard in their high pencil-heeled sandals towards the bedroom, their arms wrapped around each other for support, like a pair of drunken sirens.

They belted out a vulgar hindi song, their voices slurred and off-key, their laughter echoing through the corridor as they swayed towards the bedroom. Each step was a deliberate effort, their high-heeled sandals clacking in a drunken rhythm that seemed to keep time with their impromptu serenade. The lyrics were filled with crass sexual innuendos and explicit language, the kind that would make a saint blush, but not these two shameless hussies. They were two high-class cunts, stumbling through the hallway, their inhibitions as shredded as the last veneer of their respectability.

"LunD pe thook lagaa ke aajaa... meri choot ko chod de raja... thoDa thoDa Daale kyun... Daal de poora raja," they sang, their voices a mess of passion and inebriation as they approached the bedroom door. The words of the crude song seemed to resonate with their own carnality, the lyrics speaking directly to their desires.

[Saj890]

Very nice update

[ShaziaMirza]

زرین یار، اس اپ ڈیٹ سے تم نے تو آگ لگا دی۔ اتنا مزہ آیا کہ بیان نہیں کر سکتی۔ چار مرتبہ پانی نکلا میرا۔ کمال لکھتی ہو یار تم۔ سبحان اللہ۔

[ShaziaMirza]

HAPPY VALENTINE DAY 

[ZareenK]

Very nice update

Thank you.

[ZareenK]

زرین یار، اس اپ ڈیٹ سے تم نے تو آگ لگا دی۔ اتنا مزہ آیا کہ بیان نہیں کر سکتی۔ چار مرتبہ پانی نکلا میرا۔ کمال لکھتی ہو یار تم۔ سبحان اللہ۔

بہت بہت شکریہ۔

[ZareenK]

HAPPY VALENTINE DAY 

Wishing you a lovely Valentine’s Day as well, Shazia!

[ZareenK]

Dear Readers,


With the blessed month of Ramzan upon us, I wanted to let you know that the next update of my story will be on pause until after Eid.

Thank you for your patience and understanding. I promise to return with more exciting chapters once the celebrations are over! Until then, may this holy month bring you peace, blessings, and joy.

With love,
Zareen 

P.S. For those observing Ramzan, may your fasts be accepted and your nights illuminated with light!

[ARJos]

Awesome Update

[ArfaS]

Dear Readers,


With the blessed month of Ramzan upon us, I wanted to let you know that the next update of my story will be on pause until after Eid.

Thank you for your patience and understanding. I promise to return with more exciting chapters once the celebrations are over! Until then, may this holy month bring you peace, blessings, and joy.

With love,
Zareen 

P.S. For those observing Ramzan, may your fasts be accepted and your nights illuminated with light!

وعلیکم السلام زرین۔

رمضان مبارک۔

اللہ اس مبارک مہینے میں آپ کو صحت اور برکت عطا فرمائے۔

[ArfaS]

This update made me so wet I lost count of how many times I came while reading. The dirty kinks and filthy words made my pussy throb like crazy—I fingered myself nonstop! Every nasty detail was perfect and made me cum even harder, AlIah kasam this was insanely hot!

[rohitkapoor]

Oh man! This is so hot!

[ShakirAli]

Very hot Update!