Adultery Noida wife's descent into Quicksand ( New Novel)

[The_Ramukaka]

[The_Ramukaka]

[The_Ramukaka]

Ranga caught her smoothly, his massive arms wrapping around her waist to lift her slightly off her feet. Through the paper-thin silk of her robe, the contact was raw and immediate. As Monica laughed happily against his shoulder, Ranga’s broad, dark hand glided downward from her waist, moving freely and firm across the full curve of her ass.

[The_Ramukaka]

"I told you I'd handle the government offices, Monica ji," Ranga chuckled

“ Yes Ranga Saab seriously Thank you… can’t say you thanks enough” Monica blushed …

[The_Ramukaka]

.......

[Herbiee]

Wooow. Nice updates. New story branch of Monica has started. Going good. But need more updates to an erotic scene. Waiting for that Ranga day.

[threshlegend]

Awaiting update!!!

[rp7575]

Sweetrati bhai its Very Awosome Update Your Always Great
... Waiting For more Adventure

[RANA ROY]

Waiting.........................

[SilverArrow]

Chapter 16: The Tough Gym Day


2 days Later:

The steady drumming of rain against the balcony glass made the apartment feel completely detached from Sector 128. Rakesh had left early for his district audit, and by two in the afternoon, Monica had shut her laptop, completely done with her official calls. The lingering grey boredom settled fast. Looking at the empty hallway, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Ranga: . Was planning a proper workout! You wanna quickly join?

Ranga’s reply came back five minutes later: Give me an hour. I am still at the Registry office!”

Monica replied “Ok don’t get late”

When the doorbell chimed, Monica opened it to find Ranga standing in the doorway wearing a sleeveless black vest that stretched tight across his chest, making him look ominous and big. In each of his massive hands, he carried a heavy gym bag clanking with cast-iron dumbbells, a collapsible barbell, and extra weight plates.


"What is all this?" Monica asked, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. "Are we opening an underground gym now?"

"You complained your light pink dumbbells weren't giving you results," Ranga grunted, stepping past her and heading straight for the spare room. "You can't build a proper frame with those tiny pink rubber dumbbells you keep in the corner, Madam”

"Those pink ones keep me in shape just fine Ranga Saab" Monica replied, following him in. She wore a tight grey sports tee and high-cut shorts that left the full, toned length of her thighs bare. Her hair was pulled back into a loose topknot, a few stray dark strands resting against her collarbone.

Ranga dropped the gear onto the floor with a dull thud, turning slowly to look her up and down. His gaze didn't rush; it moved from her bare waist up to her chest, where the grey fabric held her full breasts tightly.

"We'll see about that," Ranga said, pulling out a solid steel barbell .."Warm up. Goblet squats first. Go down. Deep"
Monica dropped into a low squat, her thighs coming parallel to the floor.

"You're stopping two inches high," Ranga murmured. Before she could rise, his heavy, warm hands settled firmly on her waist. His thumbs pressed into the small of her back, locking her in place at the bottom of the movement. "Hold it right there."









Monica gasped slightly at the sudden, firm grip “Its hurting now, I am getting up!”
"Not yet, I did not say that yet !” Ranga commanded

She pushed up, re-racking the kettlebell, her skin flushed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. "You're a tyrant. My thighs are already aching by now!”

After the squats, Ranga ordered “ Lie down on your back now on the mat. QUICK!”
Monica laid down on her back, resting the padded barbell across her protruding soft ass. Ranga knelt beside her, bracing one broad palm firmly on her inner thigh to keep her knee from turning inward as he loaded an extra plate.

"That’s excessive, Ranga Anna," she said, looking up at him from the mat. "Are you trying to break me?"
" Just do as I say… don’t interrupt me.. You can handle it," he said

Monica drove her hips high into the air. The heavy movement forced her chest upward, the thin fabric of her top straining against her curves. As she held the position, Ranga’s hand didn't leave her thigh—in fact, his thumb moved slowly, deliberately pressing into the soft, naked skin just beneath the hem of her shorts.
"Hold at the top," he commanded. "Two seconds"

"I can’t hold more Ranga Anna…aahhh”  Monica panted, her breath coming short, though she didn't pull away from his touch.

"I'm just making sure you do the work," Ranga said, his eyes dropping to where his thumb rested against her inner leg.
"Give a man a mirror and two dumbbells, and he thinks he's an Olympic trainer," Monica mocked with a playful smile
Ranga didn't step back. "Last set. Seated fold. Let's stretch out those hamstrings."
Monica sat up on the mat, extending her legs forward and reaching for her toes. Ranga sat directly behind her, his large frame straddling the mat. He leaned forward, his chest pressing lightly against her bare back, his hands sliding down her arms to guide her posture deeper down. The heat radiating off his body enveloped her completely.
"Deeper, Monica," he whispered close to her ear.

"If I go any deeper, I'm going to fall" she muttered, but she allowed him to push her further, letting out a low exhale.
His hands slowly shifted from her wrists, sliding up the sides of her arms to her waist, and then rising just enough for his fingers to graze the underside of her heavy tits through the damp fabric. He kept her pinned in the stretch, his touch firm, steady, and unhurried.

Monica’s eyes remained open, fixated on the wall mirror right in front of them. She watched his dark, heavy hands resting against her skin, a contrast which looked wrong and forbidden to the core.
Ranga loaded a heavier, solid-iron dumbbell and handed it to her with a low grunt.
"Single-arm rows," he ordered, “Brace your knee on the leather. Pull straight to your hip, not your shoulder."
Ranga stood uncomfortably close behind her, his large hand hovering just an inch off her lower back to monitor her form. "Hey…hey .More control on the way down, Monica. You’re dropping it too fast."

I’m not dropping it fast Please" she panted, her lips curling into a stubborn smile as she completed the eighth rep.

After she finished, Ranga took the heavy dumbbell from her hand. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached down, grabbed the hem of his vest, and peeled it over his head in one motion. He didn't pause. Holding the heavy dumbbell in his right hand, Ranga began curling the iron with a steady, effortless rhythm—The thick veins across his bicep stood out like ropes under his skin. He knocked out fifteen crisp, flawless repetitions
Monica leaned against the wall mirror, one hand resting on her waist as she watched him work.
"Showing off now, are you?" she teased,

"These took years to build, Monica ji for your information!”
"I could see that" she smirked softly.

"I built most of this inside."

Monica’s eyebrows lifted, her curious gaze lingering on his broad torso. "Inside?"

"Jail," he said flatly, “Four years. There's nothing else to do in there except lift whatever scrap iron they let you have and make sure you don't go soft. You either stay strong, or you become someone else’s problem."
"That must be difficult no?" she asked softly, her eyes holding his in the mirror's reflection.
Ranga didn't pull away. He let her hand stay right where it was on his bare triceps, feeling the heat of her touch. "Loud. Boring. Political," he murmured. "You learn real fast who to stand next to and who to ignore. The food was garbage. The sleep was worse. The only thing in that place for me was the routine—wake up and work out and think of business plans when I will be out”

Monica kept her palm resting against his skin for a lingering second longer before slowly letting her hand drop back to her side. she murmured, a faint smirk returning to her lips. "No wonder you're so ruthless now."
When they finally called a halt, Monica let out a long exhale, rolling her shoulders and wincing with theatrical dramatic flair.

"Ahhh…God, everything hurts," she groaned, touching the top of her neck and right shoulder "Especially right here in the shoulder. You’re an absolute sadist, Ranga Anna.

Ranga picked up a small towel from his bag and wiped his face and neck. "It’ll settle by tomorrow morning. Your body just needs to calm down."

Monica tilted her head. "I don't have time until tomorrow morning. I have a dinner tonight with my college gang. If I show up moving like an old lady, Neha will never let me live it down."

Ranga paused, looking at her flushed face and damp hair. "You actually have a dinner tonight?"
"Yes .Baba …Neha’s in-laws are visiting Delhi," Monica explained, leaning back against the wall to catch her breath. "She invited the old group over. I said yes long before I knew you’d try to kill me with your exercise regime”
Ranga was quiet for a moment. "I have a solution for that."

"What solution?"

"Eucalyptus oil," Ranga said simply. "Proper, raw stuff from Tamil Forests. Cuts through muscle pain better than any chemical ointment you buy at the chemist. We use it on the site after heavy labor."


Monica hesitated, picking up her water bottle and taking a slow sip. "I can just spray some Volini or put a heat patch on it."

Ranga shook his head firmly. "Ointments just sit on the top layer of skin. This oil goes deep into the muscle tissue. It’s sticky as hell, but it works instantly. Only way to make it absorb right is a proper, hard massage."
Monica studied his broad, shirtless frame, still flushed from the brutal workout and feeling the lingering heat radiating between them. "Do you even have that oil with you?"

"It’s at my place," Ranga said, gesturing toward the balcony
Monica gave a small, reluctant nod. "Fine. Go bring it. But don’t get any ideas, Ranga Anna... it’s strictly for my shoulders."

"Five minutes," he repeated, his deep voice carrying a quiet, unmistakable weight as he stepped out into the hallway.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter 17: The massage

Ranga returned within five minutes, holding a heavy amber glass bottle with no commercial label, filled with a thick, golden-green liquid.

"What is that?" Monica asked, her eyes falling on the glass container as he stepped into the hallway. "It looks like raw engine oil."

"Pure eucalyptus extract from down south,"
Ranga said, unhooking his heavy watch and setting it on the side table. "It’s thick, dark, and sticky as hell. You put this on, and the muscle pain dies in ten minutes."

Monica frowned slightly, inspecting the viscous liquid inside the bottle. "Where are we supposed to do this? Definitely not on the bed or the sofa. If a single drop gets on the leather couch, Rakesh will spend three days crying about this”
Ranga gave a short nod. "Bathroom is better. Easy to rinse off."

"And where am I sitting in the bathroom? On the cold floor tiles?"

"Let's go and have a look," Ranga rumbled, grabbing the bottle by its neck and stepping down the hallway toward her bathroom.

In the center sat a deep, oval ceramic bathtub, completely dry and clean.
Ranga pointed one thick finger at the dry tub. "In there. It’s smooth, dry, and we can flush the oil down the drain when we're done."

Monica let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. "You're joking, right? You expect both of us to fit inside the bathtub? It’s a tub, Ranga Anna, not a Jacuzzi for two."

Ranga didn't bother arguing. He simply swung one heavy leg over the porcelain edge, stepping right into the tub and sitting down against the curved backrest, his broad, bare chest taking up half the space. He patted the smooth porcelain in front of his knees. "Get in, Monica. Stop wasting time."

Monica looked at his shirtless frame, his dark shoulders, and the amber bottle in his hand. Shaking her head with a dry, helpless chuckle, she stepped over the high porcelain ledge and slid inside, settling down right between his spread knees.

Her back sat just inches from his chest, the heat radiating off his skin warming her shoulders. Ranga popped the cork from the bottle, and the sharp, intoxicating fumes of eucalyptus instantly filled the enclosed bathroom.
"Your top is going to get completely ruined with this stuff," Ranga said, his deep voice vibrating right behind her spine. "It stains fabric permanently."

Monica twisted halfway, making a face. “Ranga Anna…”








He gave a low, unapologetic laugh. “You have a bra underneath. Nothing to worry about. Take it off or the oil will soak straight through”

She held his gaze for a beat, then exhaled and reached for the hem of her grey sports tee. She peeled it up and over her head in one smooth motion. The fabric left her skin with a soft sound. Ranga took it from her hand and tossed it into the far corner of the bathroom without looking.

The bra she wore underneath was thin black cotton one, the fashionable minimalist Bra which Monica loved wearing. It sat obscenely low on her tits. The underband cut across the fullest part of her massive breasts, pushing the soft upper flesh up and out so that more than half of each heavy tits sat completely exposed, the dark edges of her areolae just visible where the cups failed to cover. The straps were narrow, delicate, already digging faintly into her shoulders from the earlier sweat.


Ranga’s eyes dropped once at Monica’s hot half naked tits, openly, then he poured more oil into both palms and rubbed them together until they shone.

“Ranga Anna..Please be careful with the straps,” Monica said quietly, almost a warning. “They’re thin. You’ll snap them if you pull.”

Ranga only grunted in answer. He placed both hands on the back of her neck.
The first contact made her spine straighten.

The oil was so thick it dragged. His thumbs pressed into the tight muscle at the base of her neck and began to work outward in slow, heavy circles. Every stroke left a shining trail. The eucalyptus scent bloomed hotter between them, sharp enough to sting the inside of the nose

“Relax your shoulders,” he murmured near her ear. “Sit comfortable” Ranga said
“I’m trying,” she breathed. “Your hands are… heavier than the dumbbells.”
He didn’t answer. He simply poured another slow stream of oil directly onto the slope of her right shoulder. It sat there in a golden pool before his palm spread it down across the shoulders, fingers sliding under the thin bra strap and lifting it just enough for the oil to slip beneath. The fabric darkened instantly. When he let the strap settle again it clung wetly to her skin, almost transparent.

Monica’s head tipped forward a fraction. “It’s so sticky… God, it’s actually sticking to your fingers.”


That’s why it works,” Ranga said.  Both hands now moved in long, deliberate strokes from the base of her neck out to the points of her shoulders, then down the upper arms and back again. Each pass made a soft, wet sound. The oil turned her skin into something glossy. In the mirror above the sink she could see the shine spreading, the way his dark hands looked against her lighter skin, the way her expensive minimalist bra straps now glistened like wet ink.
He shifted closer. His bare chest pressed fully against her back. The oil transferred, making their skin stick and unstick with every small breath. His thumbs dug deeper into the knots along her shoulder blades. Monica let out a low, involuntary sound.

“Ahh…” the unmistakable pleasure made Monica ask for more  

“There,” Ranga said. “That’s the one that was locking up.”

“Gawd ..Anna .. this oil is so refreshing..,” she whispered, almost against her will.
Ranga’s hands slid forward over the fronts of her shoulders. His fingers brushed the upper curves of her breasts where the bra left them naked. He didn’t pull away. Instead he gathered more oil and began to work it into that soft, exposed flesh in slow circles, thumbs stroking just above the cups, pushing the fabric a fraction lower with every pass.

Monica’s breath caught. “Ranga… the straps…”

“I’m being careful.” His mouth was close enough that she felt the words against the shell of her ear. “But the oil is making everything slide. Look.”

She did. In the mirror she watched his hands, shiny and deliberate, moving over the heavy upper swells of her breasts. The thin black fabric of her Bra had soaked through completely in places. The outline of her nipples pressed visibly against the damp cotton. A thin rivulet of oil escaped his fingers and ran down into the deep valley between her breasts, disappearing under the underband.

Ranga’s palms cupped the outer curves more openly now, thumbs sweeping inward across the soft, oiled skin. The sticky resistance made every movement feel heavier, more intentional.

“Your skin is taking all of it ..That’s very good” he murmured. “No more dry patches. Look at the shine.”
Monica’s head rested back against his shoulder. Her eyes stayed half-open, watching them in the mirror—the contrast of his rough, veined hands on her, the way the oil made everything look wetter


“This is… very warm as well.. the oil is just so heavy… Ahhhhh..” she said, voice quieter.
Ranga’s answer was a low hum against her neck as His hands never stopped moving. Fingers slipped under the thin straps again, easing them outward so the cups shifted lower still. More of her breasts spilled free, heavy and gleaming. He poured a final slow stream of oil directly into the valley between them and began to work it over the newly exposed skin with both palms, careful not to snap the delicate straps, yet deliberate enough that every stroke pushed the fabric further from what it was meant to cover.








Monica’s breathing had gone shallow. The bathtub felt smaller. The eucalyptus scent was everywhere now—sharp, cooling, and somehow filthy the way it mixed with the heat of their bodies.

“Ranga Anna…” she whispered.

He didn’t stop. His hands kept moving in slow, heavy circles, spreading the thick oil until her chest and shoulders shone like polished wood under rain, until the thin black bra was nothing more than wet, useless lines cutting across gleaming skin.

“Let the oil gets deep… that’s when the real pain relief with happen Monica!” Ranga said …

Monica’s head tipped forward a little more.


“It’s actually working… the pain feels controlled now Ranga Anna .. Shoulders aren’t locking the same way.”
Ranga’s hands kept moving, slow and heavy. “It’ll absorb deeper. Give it time.”
He poured another thin stream of the thick oil across the tops of her shoulders. His fingers found the thin black straps, slid underneath them, and began easing them outward. The wet fabric stretched and then slipped down her arms in one smooth motion.

Monica’s body stiffened.
“Ranga Anna—what are you doing? My straps—”

“It’s better,” Ranga said calmly, voice close to her ear. “Your Bra is absolutely already soaked. It’s just Useless now Monica”

The cups had nowhere to go. They settled loosely against the lower curves of her breasts, resting right on her nipples while her large Chocolate brown areolas sat fully exposed above the wet edge of the Bra. Her areolas were the sexiest part of her Breasts

Now, she was effectively topless, the heavy soft weight of her tits gleaming under the bathroom light, oil running in thin shiny lines between them.


Ranga’s palms returned to that newly bare skin without pause, spreading more oil in wide, deliberate circles. The sticky drag of his hands made every stroke feel heavier. Monica’s breath shortened. The muscle pain had faded into the background. What replaced it was a low, spreading heat that had nothing to do with eucalyptus. Monica was beginning to moan by the impact of pleasure.. She knew her moans were getting heavy inside the four walls of the bathroom. Her moans echoed and that made it sound filthy dirty and erotic inside the bathroom. Ranga heard it nonchalantly absolutely not giving any respite to Monica from the undeniable pleasure of the oil massage.


“I learned this inside,” Ranga murmured, thumbs sweeping under the full underside of each breast. “the Jail. Old guy from Madurai taught a few of us. Said nothing empties the head faster than proper oil massage. He wasn’t wrong. Right Monica ?” Ranga was now torturing Monica with the carnal pleasure he was giving to her.
Monica’s eyes were half-closed in the mirror. A soft sound escaped her throat when his thumbs brushed closer to her nipples. “ Ahhhh…ahhhh”

The pleasure peaked when Ranga’s fingers played with her areolas.. Monica had such sensitive areolas only she knew ..how much she loved such treatment of her areolas .


“Ranga Anna… at least… put…put the bra back… you’re making me—”


The sentence broke into another low moan as he cupped her more firmly, lifting the weight of her tits in both hands, testing how much they overflowed his palms. She tried again, voice uneven.
“Put it… back… you’re almost… ah—”


Ranga’s mouth stayed near her ear. “How’s the pain now?”


She forced the moan down long enough to answer. “It’s gone. Just… put the bra in place..please”
He didn’t. Instead he hooked his fingers under the loose, oil-soaked cups and slowly peeled the entire bra forward and off her body. The wet fabric clung for a second, then came free.


Monica’s protest came louder this time. “Ranga— I’m not getting nude for a massage—”
“No one’s walking in,” he said, calm as ever.

“ Ranga  No..please what the fuck!!!!! “

Monica watched as he tossed the soaked bra toward the far corner of the bathroom. It landed with a soft, heavy slap against the tiles. “This is far better for the oil. Nothing blocking it now Monica.”
Her tits sat fully free, large, heavy, and shining with the rough sticky oil. The oil made them look almost polished. Ranga’s hands returned immediately, open and hungry, spreading more of the thick liquid over every inch, lifting them, squeezing, watching them move.

“Woww.. you have such beautiful breasts …Best I’ve seen,” he said, voice lower. “Even for my hands they’re huge.”
“Ranga.. What you think you are doing..This is just fucking inappropriate!” Monica breathed hard while speaking …
Ranga chuckled “ Relax! You can thank me later when the pain vanishes . Right now enjoy the art I learnt in the prison “

“You are impossible”

Monica twisted just enough to half-heartedly shove at his shoulder with one oily hand.
“I asked for a gym session, not to sit naked in a bathtub with you, you asshole.”
Ranga laughed, thumbs circling her nipples now, slow and deliberate, coating them until they stood tight and glossy under his touch. Her head dropped back against his shoulder enjoying his touch to the core . The protest stayed in her voice, but her body had already stopped fighting the way his hands claimed every oiled curve.
The cramped porcelain tub creaked subtly as Ranga shifted his heavy frame. Without breaking eye contact, he swung his leg over, turning around to face Monica directly face to face. His broad, dark chest filled her entire field of vision, the sharp, medicinal scent of the warm eucalyptus oil radiating off his skin in waves.


Ranga... wait, what are you doing?" Monica gasped, her breath catching as his dark knees pinned her legs against the smooth white porcelain..



"Can't reach the tension in the chest from behind, Monica" Ranga rumbled smoothly, his voice dropping into a thick, raspy murmur.


Before she could process a reply, he tipped another heavy pool of dark oil onto his palms, rubbed them together with a friction-filled slide, and slammed both broad,  hands flat over her exposed breasts.
"Ranga! Ah— stop!" Monica choked out, her hands flying up to grip his thick wrists. "This isn't... this isn't just a shoulder massage anymore!"


Ranga didn't back off even an inch. His dark eyes locked onto hers, a wicked, unyielding smirk tugging at his lips as his hands began to knead her heavy breasts, squeezing and molding her breasts with brutal, unhurried dominance.
"You said your body was sore, didn't you?" Ranga grunted softly “You want the pain gone or not?"
"Ranga, please— mmff..." The protest died in her throat, dissolving into a low, shuddering moan that echoed softly off the bathroom walls.


Her fingers, which had initially gripped his wrists to push him away, suddenly lost their strength, sliding down to clutch the smooth rim of the bathtub for support.

She bit her lower lip hard, trying to hold back the sounds, but Ranga’s hands were merciless.
"Look at yourself in the mirror, Monica," Ranga commanded softly, his voice a low vibration over the sound of her rapid breathing...


Monica opened her heavy, half-closed eyes, looking sideways at the vanity mirror across the room. Her cheeks were burning red, her hair tumbling out of its topknot, her flushed, half-naked body pinned helplessly beneath Ranga’s shirtless, dominant frame. Her chest was completely covered in dark green, glistening oil, held and crushed inside his dark, calloused hands.


"You're... you're unbelievable, Ranga Anna," Monica whispered, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps as she arched her back into his touch, completely surrendering to the dirty, thrilling heat filling the small room.
From that moment, Ranga’s hands  never left her.


“Look at your big tits, Monica. Shining from my oil. You want to wash this off now?”
Monica’s head was still tipped back against the porcelain, chest rising fast. Her voice came out uneven, thick with the same heat that had already soaked through her.


“I… I don’t know. This isn’t right. You should leave now, Ranga Anna.”
He smiled, slow and knowing, thumbs still brushing over her tight, glossy nipples.
“You didn’t answer. Shall we rinse the oil off?”


She let out a short, frustrated breath


“I don’t know, okay? I didn’t expect the massage would turn into… this.”
Ranga’s eyes stayed on her face. “I can help you wash it off if you need.”

Monica’s fingers flexed against the edge of the tub.

“What now?”


“Look.” That was all he said before he dropped his head and took her right nipple into his mouth.
Monica’s whole body jerked.

“Ranga—fuck—what are you—”


The protest was weak, almost automatic, and it died the second his tongue dragged hard over the oiled peak. He sucked strongly, wet and greedy, cheeks hollowing, while one hand kept mauling the other breast without mercy. The filthy, rhythmic sound of his mouth filled the small bathroom.


“Ahhh—shit—Ranga Anna—stop—mmhh—”


She kept trying to form sentences, but every one broke apart into louder, longer moans. Her hands came up to his head—not pushing, only holding—as he switched to the left nipple and sucked even harder, teeth grazing, tongue swirling through the thick eucalyptus. Oil and saliva mixed and ran down the underside of her breast. He followed the trail with his mouth, biting softly at the soft lower curve before returning to the nipple again.
Monica’s moans climbed. They bounced off the bathroom wall, raw and uncontrolled, the kind of sound that could be easily heard by a neighbour.


“God—your mouth—Ranga—this is so fucking—ahhh—”


He didn’t answer with words. He just kept sucking, long filthy pulls that made her back arch and her thighs tighten around him. One of her hands slid from his head to his shoulder, nails digging in. The other stayed locked on the tub rim like it was the only solid thing left...


The protests were completely gone and only the broken, hungry sounds of two people who had stopped pretending remained.

[RANA ROY]

What...A.....update.

[val.coutinho]

Excellent update..... Ranga is going to blend Monica into having the pleasure with him.... i think next will be a blowjob from Monica to him after he has sucked onto the tits to his hearts content.....
Thank you SilverArrow for this wonderful update.....

[SilverArrow]

Excellent update..... Ranga is going to blend Monica into having the pleasure with him.... i think next will be a blowjob from Monica to him after he has sucked onto the tits to his hearts content.....
Thank you SilverArrow for this wonderful update.....

Thanks ..but will that not be very direct too soon ???

[SilverArrow]

What...A.....update.

Thanks for your support

[val.coutinho]

Thanks ..but will that not be very direct too soon ???

Adding fucking to the scene would be too soon.... Either way Ranga licks her pussy after sucking her boobs and making her organsm and even coaxing for a blowjob wont be too soon and even if Monica gives him a blow wont be too soons as she too knows about the indecent act Ranga and Selvam had done while she stood in bra nad panty while giving the presentation......

So i think a blowjob or cunnilingus at this time will not be too soon....

[Mprit]

Nice going

[SilverArrow]

Ranga’s mouth was locked on her right nipple, sucking hard and wet, the thick eucalyptus oil mixing with his saliva and running down the underside of her breast in shiny trails. He wasn’t gentle. He pulled the tight peak deep into his mouth, cheeks hollowing, tongue dragging in slow, filthy circles before he sucked again—long, rhythmic pulls that made wet, obscene sounds fill the small bathroom.


Monica’s head was thrown back against the porcelain, one hand tangled in the short hair at the back of Ranga’s head, the other gripping the edge of the tub so hard her knuckles were white.

“Fuck… Ranga… your mouth—”

He switched to the left nipple without warning, biting down just enough to make her jolt, then sucking even harder. His free hand crushed the other breast, fingers sinking into the soft, oiled flesh, squeezing and lifting it so he could get more of it into his mouth. The sticky oil made every movement louder, wetter. Spit and oil coated her areolas, making them glisten under the bathroom light.

Monica’s moans had turned raw and broken. Every strong suck pulled another sound out of her—low, helpless, filthy. Her hips kept shifting restlessly against the floor of the tub. She could feel how hard he was through his shorts every time he leaned in closer.

Ranga released her nipple with a wet pop, looked up at her flushed face for a second, then dragged his tongue slowly from the underside of her breast all the way up to the tip again before taking it back into his mouth. He sucked like he was trying to leave a mark, greedy and relentless, while his hand kept mauling the other breast without mercy—pinching the nipple, rolling it, then crushing the full weight of it in his palm.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Monica gasped between moans

He kept sucking, switching from one nipple to the other, leaving both of them red, wet, and throbbing. The bathroom smelled thickly of eucalyptus and sex. Monica’s moans were getting louder, echoing off the tiles, when—
The doorbell rang—sharp, loud, twice in a row.

Monica panicked hard. This was unexpected.

“Shit!! Who the hell is that?” she hissed, voice still rough from moaning. “Ranga—stop. Now. Ranga I said stop!!”
He released her slowly. A thin string of oil and saliva stretched between his lip and her glistening nipple before it broke. Monica grabbed her phone from the side of the bathtub with sticky fingers. The screen lit up:
Three missed calls from the intercom.  

One fresh message:

**Delivery Attempt Failed for Order #90412. Recipient unavailable. Item [Designer Silk Saree – Express Delivery] returning to warehouse.**


“No, no, no—” Her voice cracked. “That’s the saree for tonight. Neha’s dinner. If he takes it back I have nothing to wear.”
She lunged for the bath towel to cover her nude tits. Ranga’s hand closed around her wrist before she could pull it free.

“Don’t.”

“Ranga, let me go! He’s leaving!”

“Look at your skin.” His voice stayed completely calm. “That oil is thick as pitch. If You throw a towel on, it will stick to your skin badly,  ruins the fabric, and leaves lint everywhere”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” she whispered.. her tits still shining and slightly swollen from his mouth.
Ranga’s oil-slicked fingers rested on her hip

“You don’t have to put anything on. Go to the door. Keep the chain on. Open it two inches. Sign, take the parcel, then just close it.”

Monica stared at him. “Are you insane? I am completely topless.. I will open the door like this?”
“He can’t see through the wooden door.. Can he ? Why harm your skin .” Ranga murmured,  “Unless you open it wide”


The doorbell buzzed a third time. Footsteps started moving away down the corridor.
“Dammit!”

She didn’t argue further. Driven by pure panic and leftover heat, Monica walked naked down the hallway wearing only her gym shorts and having her entire top part of the body fully naked!  Every inch of her torso gleaming under the apartment lights. The heavy scent of eucalyptus followed her.

At the front door she pressed her back flat against the wall, slid the safety chain into place, and opened the door exactly three inches.









Bright corridor light cut a thin vertical strip across her collarbones and the outer curve of one breast.
“Ma’am? Monica Sharma?”








A middle aged  delivery man stood in the blue uniform in the corridor with a scanner in hand.
“Yes,” she said, voice tight, body pressed hard into the shadow. “I’m right here. Just… give me the parcel quickly.”
“Need your signature first, ma’am. It’s a Company policy.”

He stepped closer and tried to slide the paper for signature through the narrow gap. The pen caught on the chain and slipped from his fingers. Instinctively he leaned in to catch it, shoulder pressing against the door leaf.
The angle widened.

The courier guy looked up—and froze.

Through the gap he had a clear, unbroken view of Monica standing completely naked. Thick eucalyptus oil coated every inch of her torso, turning her skin glossy and wet under the light. Her full, heavy breasts shone; the nipples still tight and slightly swollen, a thin line of oil running down between them. The sharp medicinal scent drifted into the hallway.

The delivery guy’s mouth opened. His eyes locked onto her nude tits and stayed there.
“I… uh…” he stammered.

Monica’s face burned. She could feel exactly where he was looking.

“Just—hand me the paper,” she said, voice rushed and breathless. “Please.”

He blinked, still staring. “Ma’am… so..sorry ..…”

“I was bathing,” she cut in quickly, cheeks on fire. “

Just give me the papers so I can sign and you can go.”
The courier’s face turned deep red, but his eyes flicked down to her glistening breasts one more time before he forced them up.

“S-sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to—here.”

He pushed the paper through the gap. Monica reached out with her oily arm, the side of her breast briefly catching more light as she moved. She scribbled her signature in one jagged stroke.
“Done,” she said, almost pushing the tablet back at him

“Yes, ma’am—sorry again—here your parcel”

He shoved the heavy cardboard parcel through the opening without looking directly at her. Monica grabbed it with both hands and pulled it tight against her bare, oily tits, using it as a shield.
“Thank you. You can go now,” she said, already starting to close the door.

“Y-yes, ma’am. Have a good day,” he managed, still flustered, before the door shut hard in his face.


The heavy teak door closed with a sharp, resonant thud, the lock turning automatically as Monica slumped back against the wood.

"He saw everything, Ranga..." Monica gasped out, "God... he literally saw everything."
Ranga didn't step back. “Everything means what, Monica "

Monica glared at him, a nervous laugh escaping her lips as she adjusted hair. "Don't play innocent with me! You know exactly what! He got the full premium package — tits, nipples, oil shine, the complete set!  He didn't just glance—he stared right at them!"


"And what did you tell the poor guy?"

Ranga asked softly, his tone dripping with quiet sarcasm.

"I told him I was bathing!" she hissed, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of crimson. "What else was I supposed to say? 'Excuse me, my business partner was eating my tits out in the bathtub, so please ignore my naked tits'?"

Ranga let out a low, deep chuckle that vibrated through the quiet foyer. "At least you got your saree. If you’d listened to your own brilliant idea and spent ten minutes finding a towel, that box would be on its way back to the warehouse right now."

Monica rolled her eyes

"Look at the clock," she sighed, running a hand over her forehead. "I have to leave for Neha’s dinner in less than an hour. It’s going to take me at least twenty minutes under scalding water just.

Any help needed with the rinsing part?" Ranga asked smirking

Monica turned around, shooting him a sharp, sarcastic look, though her lips twitched with a reluctant smile. "Help? The last time you offered to 'help' with my muscle stiffness, you ended up eating my tits like you hadn't eaten in a week. No thank you, Ranga Anna. Your idea of 'help' is a complete hazard."
Ranga laughed out loud, a short, booming sound "The shoulder pain is gone, isn't it?"
Monica paused, rolling her left shoulder in a slow circle.

To her annoyance, the sharp knot that had been locking up during her workout had completely vanished, replaced by a deep, heavy warmth.
"Yes" she muttered, adjusting the saree box under her arm. "The pain is gone. Now get out of my house before  someone else find us together like this!”

"Okay see you soon Bhabhi" Ranga rumbled, giving her one last sweeping look from her bare waist to her eyes before turning the deadbolt. "Enjoy your college reunion”

Monica paused at the bathroom doorway, looked back over her shoulder, and gave him one last dry, pointed smile.
“You’re a complete asshole, Ranga Anna.”
“I know.”
He watched her disappear into the bathroom, then quietly collected his vest and the empty oil bottle. By the time he opened the front door, the sound of the shower was already running.

[Givemeextra]

What? That's it?

Not proceeding further? Waiting for next read already.....

[The_Ramukaka]