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

[The_Ramukaka]

[Herbiee]

What an update. Awesome. Reading. . .

[wxxxx]

Readers are distressed by the fact that Ranga is resorting to blackmail; Ranga and Monica grew close while working to secure approval for the café project, and Ranga now holds full responsibility for finalizing that approval. Monica and Rakesh are willing to pay up to 50,000 rupees to expedite the process. Readers anticipate that the three of them—Monica, Rakesh, and Ranga—will then enjoy a lavish night together at Monica and Rakesh's apartment. I request the esteemed author, SilverArrow, to give this matter special consideration.

[KingRocks]

Waiting for next updates... Hope to see more updates soon

[rp7575]

Sorry Sweetrati bhai mai busy tha to aapke update nahi padhe ab pad liye awsome update dale hai mindblowing english section me sirf aap hi ho jiske wajah se hum log yaha pe aa rahe hai thank you bhai hum wait kar rahe hai ki aage kya hoga

[SilverArrow]

Chapter Name :  Monica is forced to strip Ranga


Ranga stepped back from her and leaned against the edge of the desk again, arms loose at his sides.
Monica could not believe she was all in but just her tiny Bra and panties in front of a history sheeter. Ranga did not rush, he knew Monica had no choice but to submit herself completely. Monica once thought about Rakesh down with a bad bout of viral and she here submitting herself to this history sheeter.

Ranga could not meanwhile oogle enough and salivate at Monica’s semi naked state. The Bra was purely scandalous unable to hold her massive heavy tits. But Ranga was always in awe and love with her shapely ass which did not stop jiggling even under decent modest clothing.

Ranga smirked “Rakesh brother is so fucking lucky, he gets you naked every night!”

Monica shot back “Ranga ..you don’t have to humiliate me and my husband like this! Hope you get this soon”.. She had still that cocky defiance which ofcourse does not suit a sexy woman in her undies about to be destroyed and devoured!

Ranga paused for a bit enjoying Monica’s nudity and then said .. “Your turn….Take my clothes off.”
Monica stared at him.

“You’re serious? You fucking want me to undress you”

“Yes, Monica," Ranga said quietly, his tone steady. "You need to accept who is running this deal. Every button you undo of my shirt is you personally accepting the price for your project's clearance. Or you can turn around, put your clothes back on, and go explain to Rakesh why your dream cafe folded before opening day"

Monica’s jaw tightened. For a moment it looked like she might refuse. Then she walked forward, barefoot on the wooden boards, and stopped in front of him.

She reached for the top button of his shirt. Her fingers were not entirely steady.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.
“Believe it.”

She opened the first button, then the second. The dark shirt parted, showing the heavy thickly hairy upper chest and the brass chain.

She kept her eyes on the shirt rather than his face.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Monica clenched her teeth, her voice laced with venom as she unhooked the third button. "Exercising this crude power over someone who wouldn't normally give you the time of day"
"I'm executing a contract," Ranga countered, his dark gaze unblinking as her fingers moved down to the last button..

“You see you are asking me to fight against a heavily corrupted and influential bastard like Deshmukh… this is a small tax you pay for that ..loud and simple right ?” Ranga now spoke with a cold frightening authority.

Monica pulled the shirt free from his trousers and pushed it off his broad shoulders. The shirt fell to the floor. His body was thick, hairy and solid, the body of a man who still did enourmous physical work. Ranga looked much more gentleman with his shirt on. Bare chested he looked no less than a  hairy wild primitive animal.

Monica wondered what food he eats to build that raw animal like body. Not normal food normal Indians eat for sure.

“There,” Monica said, taking a step back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “Your shirt is off. Are you satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Ranga replied calmly, looking down at his waist. “The belt and the boots, Monica. Finish what you started.”

Monica let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really want to strip down to nothing in this filthy shed?”

Ranga said, his voice dropping into a stern, heavy order " Undo the belt and my trousers right now"

Monica gave a deep breath ..
“Start Quickly,” he said.

“I heard you the first time, Ranga ..you don’t have to shout at me just because I am doing this shit” Monica shot back..

Ranga laughed “ Then do this shit quickly”.. his voice was purely dominating now.

She opened the buckle of the belt with a soft metallic sound, then drew the belt free in one long pull. She dropped it on the desk beside the red-stamped file. Her fingers moved to the button of his trousers. She could already feel how hard he was underneath.

“Yes ..Monica I am already very hard ..from watching you try to keep those useless panties in place” Ranga laughed like a hyena as Monica shuddered with the button of his jeans.

Monica opened the button and drew the zipper down. The sound was loud in the small cabin. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his trousers and pushed them down over his hips. He stepped out of them without helping much.

Underneath he wore plain dark underwear, strained at the front by the thick shape of his cock.
She paused again.

Monica’s fingers hovered at the waistband of his underwear. The dark fabric was strained tight over the thick shape beneath. She could already see the outline — heavy, long, pressing hard against the cotton.
She shook her head once.
“No. I’m not taking that off. The shirt and the trousers were enough. You can do the rest yourself.”
Ranga looked down at her, calm and unblinking.
“All of it, Monica.”

“I said no.” Her voice tightened. “I’ve already gone further than I should. You want me naked on a desk — fine. But I’m not undressing your cock like some—”


“You are,” he cut in, the tone dropping into something colder and flatter. “You need Deshmukh’s ego broken by Monday. Right ?  I need you to finish what you started. Take the underwear off. Now.”

Monica held his gaze, breathing hard through her nose. The cabin heat pressed against her bare back and the thin bra. Outside, the site was deserted and silent. Inside, there was no one to interrupt the filthy game of power that unfolded!

She let out a short, bitter breath.
“You are a complete bastard.”
“I know. Do it.”

Her fingers hooked into the waistband. She pulled the underwear down slowly, the elastic dragging over his hips and then lower. His cock sprang free at once — thick, dark, heavily veined, and already fully hard. It rose against his stomach with a solid, heavy weight that made the earlier outline look modest. The head was broad and slightly shiny.

A dense, untamed bush of black hair framed the base. It looked even bigger this close, the kind of size that made the mouth go dry for reasons that had nothing to do with desire she was willing to admit.
Monica stared for a second longer than she meant to, then looked up at his face with pure resentment.

“Ranga ..Don’t make it so much difficult for me ..I repeat .. We have been business partners .. I never expected I have to return favour in this manner”

Ranga glanced down at himself, then at her.
“Monica.. you know how this ruthless world works.. you are dealing with a history sheeter like me.. I thought you are a smart girl .. You are making this difficult with these thoughts.. You see!”
“ You filthy asshole, Ranga …. God will never forgive you”

Ranga laughed “ Monica you can do better than these hanky panky sweet heart! Now my Boots!!”
Monica’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. Bend down and take my boots off.”

“You want me on the floor in this state to remove your dirty boots?”

“I want you to finish undressing me, Monica” Ranga said, voice still cold and even. “The floor is already dirty. So are the boots. Get it done.”

Monica stood frozen for another beat, the thick cock only inches from her stomach, the tiny panties still failing to cover her ass, the bra still struggling with her breasts. Then she lowered herself.
The wooden boards were rough and gritty under her bare knees. Cement dust clung to her skin at once. She had to lean forward to reach his boots, which put her face level with his cock and forced her heavy breasts to press against the thin bra as they hung forward. She untied the first boot with quick, angry movements, pulled it off, and set it aside. The second followed. The smell of leather, dust, and the day’s heat rose around her.
When both boots were off she stayed kneeling for a second longer than necessary, as if gathering the last of her composure, then pushed herself back up to her feet.

Ranga stood completely naked in the middle of the tin cabin — thick large hairy body, heavy cock still hard and exposed, boots and clothes and Monica’s kurti and jeans scattered on the floor around them. The yellow bulb caught the sweat on his chest and the dark, solid length of his cock .

Ranga’s eyes moved over her without hurry as she stood up on her feet again. Monica stood in front of him, still in the white bra and the tiny panties, staring at the thick cock she had just freed. The cabin air was heavy with heat and the faint metallic smell of the corrugated walls. A thin line of sweat had already formed between her breasts where the bra cut into her massive cleavage.

Ranga smirked “Good Job in getting me naked Sweetie… Now. Let’s get to business quickly ..We don’t have the entire day Monica.… You wanna lie on the table ?”

Monica stood there silently. She had already steadied her mind for submitting herself against her wish to the monster this history sheeter was. This was probably the most humiliating and degraded sexual intercourse she will have in lifetime.
Monica remained silent. She had already decided. Not because she wanted this, and not because she had broken, but because every other route had been closed. This was going to be ugly, transactional, and beneath her. She refused to pretend otherwise. She also refused to waste energy on panic. She drew a slow breath, straightened her shoulders a fraction, and prepared to pay exactly what was being demanded — nothing more, nothing less.
“Condom,” she said flatly after a long self introspecting pause… “I’m not doing this without one.”

[SilverArrow]

Chapter : Condom

Ranga looked at her for a moment, then gave a short, unbothered shrug. The movement made the brass chain shift against his damp chest.

“I don’t have one on me.” Ranga said slightly amused
Monica’s eyes narrowed. A drop of sweat slid down the side of her neck and disappeared into the hollow of her collarbone.

“Don’t tell me you are serious Ranga” Monica said angrily

“Do I look like I’m joking? This isn’t a hotel room. I didn’t come here planning to fuck your lovely cunt!”

She let out a sharp, incredulous breath. The sound was loud in the small space. Outside, the empty site baked under the sun; inside, the single bulb threw a yellow light that made every surface look slightly greasy.

“Then we’re done. I’m not risking anything. Find another way to move Deshmukh’s file..Period ” Monica shot back angrily and moved away from the dirty wooden table!

Ranga didn’t move an inch from the edge of the table. His cock remained hard, heavy, the dark skin stretched smooth, a faint sheen of moisture already at the tip. The dense bush at the base looked even thicker in the humid air.

“There’s a labourers’ room next door,” he said calmly. “The mistri keeps a bag there. Old clothes, beedis, random junk. Sometimes more. You can check.”

Monica stared at him. The idea settled over her like the heat itself — thick, unpleasant, inescapable.

“You want me to go rummage through some labourer’s bag for a condom while I’m dressed like this?”
“You’re already undressed and you’re already paying. Go through the bag and bring the condom. Or walk out, go home to your sick husband, and tell him the café is finished because you refused. Those are the only two options. Choose.”


Monica held his gaze for a long second, jaw tight. Then she turned. The wooden floorboards were rough under her bare feet, slightly gritty with cement dust. Each step made the heavy curves of her ass shift inside the tiny panties; the narrow strip of fabric had already ridden deeper between her ass cheeks from the movement. The air from the main cabin to the side room felt even hotter, denser, carrying the smell of old cloth, tobacco, and stale sweat.
The side room was dimmer. A single metal trunk sat against the wall beside a folded cot. A dusty sports bag lay open on the floor, its contents spilling out in a small, greasy pile — a crumpled shirt stiff with dried sweat, a thin towel, a crushed packet of beedis, a cracked phone charger furred with dust.
Monica crouched. The position pulled her panties tighter and made her breasts strain forward against the thin bra. She began going through the bag with quick, disgusted movements. The fabric of the old shirt felt rough and slightly damp under her fingers. The smell rose stronger — pungent male, unwashed, mixed with the sweet-chemical scent of cheap tobacco.

“This is degrading,” she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “Completely degrading.”


Ranga’s voice came from the doorway. He had followed her and now leaned against the frame, still fully naked. The yellow light from the main room caught the sweat on his shoulders and the heavy hang of his cock.

“You only needed a condom. I’m helping you find one.. How ungrateful is that Monica ?” Ranga smirked and yelled loudly from the door of the second attached room.

“You’re watching me dig through a stranger’s dirty bag while you stand there hard. That’s not anywhere close to helping me”

Her fingers brushed something small and plastic at the bottom of the bag, half-buried under the towel. She pulled it free. A single condom packet, the foil dulled with dust and time, the edges slightly soft from heat. It left a grey smudge on her fingertips.

She held it up between two fingers. The packet felt warm from the closed bag, almost sticky.
“This looks like it’s been here since the foundation was laid.”
Ranga’s mouth curved...

“It’s sealed. That’s all that matters.”

Monica stood. Her knees carried the faint imprint of the dusty floor.
“If this breaks, I will kill you.”

“It won’t break,” Ranga said. “Now bring it here.”
She walked back into the main cabin. The temperature difference was small but noticeable; the air moved slightly more here.
Monica stopped in front of him and held the packet out. The foil caught the yellow bulb light.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter Name: The savage licking

Monica stared at the dusty condom packet in her hand, then at the thick cock in front of her. The cabin felt smaller than before. Heat, cement dust, and the faint smell of the labourer’s bag still clung to her fingers.
Ranga nodded toward the wooden desk.

“On the table.”

She looked at the surface — the red-stamped sanction file, a stack of lower clerk notes, a half-empty tea glass with a brown ring at the bottom, a scatter of grit and pencil shavings. The wood was rough and stained.
“You want me to lie on this?”

“I want you on it,” Ranga said. “Clear the files and get up there.”

Monica let out a short, bitter breath. She stepped forward, still in the  white bra and the tiny panties, and used the side of her forearm to push the files and the tea glass toward the far edge. Papers slid. One corner of the red-stamped sheet folded under itself. The glass scbangd. She didn’t care. She planted her palms on the cleared space, hopped up, and sat on the edge of the desk. The wood was warm and slightly gritty under her bare ass.
“Happy?” she asked, voice sharp.

“Lie back properly.”

She held his gaze for another second, then leaned back on her elbows. The position pushed her breasts up against the thin bra. Her legs hung off the edge, the tiny panties already doing nothing to cover the heavy curve of her ass.
A sharp, sudden pain stabbed up through her thin panties.
“Ah—damn it—”


Monica jerked hard, one hand flying back under herself. An open screw head, half-rusted and sticking up from the old wooden desk, had dug straight into the soft flesh of her ass through the tiny panties. The point had caught and pulled, leaving a small tear in the fabric of her panties and a stinging, immediate mark on her skin.
She twisted, still on her elbows, and yanked the ruined edge of the panty aside with two fingers, face tight with pure irritation.

“Are you serious? There’s an open screw sticking out of this desk.” Her voice was irritated “It’s already cut my panties and dug into me. Who leaves screws like this exposed?”
Ranga’s low laugh filled the cabin.

“This is a construction site, Monica. It’s built for labour and files, not for soft asses or quick sex”

Ranga stepped between her knees. His hands closed around the narrow sides of the panties. Instead of sliding them down he simply pulled. The thin fabric stretched, then tore with a short, sharp sound. He tore again, ripping the scrap clear of her hips, and tossed the ruined piece onto the floor beside her discarded kurti.
Monica’s eyes widened as the fabric gave way with that sharp rip.
“Hey—those weren’t yours to destroy!” She stared at her torn panties in his hand, then at the bare skin he’d just exposed, voice sharp with surprise and irritation. “You couldn’t just pull them down like a normal person? You had to rip them off the second you touched them?” Monica flinched at the sound.

“Stop crying for your panties … and spread your legs properly” Ranga ordered ... He looked down at her exposed cunt — already slightly parted from the position, the soft outer lips visible, a faint sheen of moisture at the centre despite everything. “And this is what I want first.”


Before she could answer he dropped to a crouch, hooked his hands under her thighs, and dragged her closer to the edge of the table so her ass almost hung off the wood. Then he put his mouth on her.
The first contact was flat and deliberate — the broad of his thick tongue dragging slowly from the lowest point of her opening all the way up over her clit. Monica’s whole body jerked. A startled, angry sound left her throat.


“Ranga—fuck—”


He didn’t lift his head. He licked her again, slower, pressing firmer, parting her with the tongue so he could taste deeper. The wet sound was sudden and obscene in the quiet cabin. Monica’s head tipped back. One of her hands shot down and tried to push at his scalp.

“You don’t need to—do that. Just get on with it.”


Ranga pulled back only far enough to speak, lips already shiny.
“I decide what I do with you sweetie. Stay still.”

He went back down. This time he focused on her clit — tight, circling strokes, then a slow suck that made her thighs try to close around his head. He pushed them open again with his hands and kept going. Monica’s breathing turned uneven. The bra felt too tight. The rough wood scbangd lightly against her shoulder blades every time she moved.


“This is not—part of the deal,” she managed, voice already losing its edge.


“Everything is part of the deal,” he said against her, the words vibrating into her. Then his tongue pushed inside her, thick and insistent, fucking her with it in short, deep strokes while his nose pressed against her clit.


Monica’s elbows nearly gave out. A helpless, frustrated sound escaped her.
.

“Ranga No..Aah ..You’re doing this to humiliate me.”
“I’m doing this because your cunt is already wet and I want it wetter before I fuck it.” He lifted his head just enough to look at her over the plane of her stomach. “You can keep talking. It doesn’t change anything.”
He returned to her clit and sucked harder. Monica’s hips tried to lift off the table. One of her bare heels braced against the edge of the desk. The red-stamped file sat inches from her waist, slightly crumpled where she had shoved it.
Outside, the site remained silent under the sun. Inside, the only sounds were the wet, rhythmic work of Ranga’s mouth and Monica’s increasingly broken attempts to stay in control of her own voice.


“Ranga… stop licking and just—do what you came for.”
He ignored her. He licked her open, thorough, almost methodical, as if he had all the time in the world. Monica’s head dropped back. Her fingers curled against the rough wood. The last  pieces of her resistance were dissolving under the steady, filthy attention of his mouth, and both of them knew it.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter : The most brutal Act

Ranga rose from between her thighs. His mouth and chin shone with her. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand; the taste of her stayed thick on his tongue. He reached for the dusty condom packet, tore the foil open with his teeth — a sharp, dry sound in the humid air — and rolled the thin rubber down his cock with one rough stroke. The condom stretched tight over the dark, heavy shaft. Heat still radiated off his skin. A bead of sweat ran down the centre of his chest and disappeared into the coarse hair at his base.

Monica lay on her elbows on the rough wooden desk, breathing hard. The wood was warm, gritty with cement dust and old pencil shavings. Every small shift scbangd her shoulder blades. Her cunt was open and wet from his tongue; a thin, cool line of her own moisture had already run down the cleft of her ass and onto the stained surface beneath her.

“On your back properly,” Ranga said. “Legs wider.”

“You’re not—”

His hands closed hard around her thighs. The callouses on his palms dragged against soft skin as he yanked her fully to the edge of the table. Her ass hung half off the wood. Before she could finish the sentence he lined up and pushed into her in one continuous, heavy stroke.

The air left her lungs in a broken, shocked sound.

“Fuck—!” Monica yelled …

He was thick. The head of her penis forced her open with a slow, burning stretch; the heavy shaft followed, sinking deeper in a single relentless slide until his hips met hers and the coarse hair at his base ground against her. She felt every inch — the heat of him through the thin condom, the pulse along the underside, the way her body had to yield.

The smell of sex rose immediately, mixing with the metallic tang of the  walls and the faint tobacco-and-sweat ghost still clinging to her fingers from the labourer’s bag.

He gave her no time to adjust. He drew back until only the head stretched her entrance, then drove in again, harder. The impact was wet and loud. The wooden desk creaked. The red-stamped file slid another inch toward the edge.

“Ranga—slow down—”

He fucked her with desperate violence. Each thrust was full and punishing; his hips snapped forward and the thick cock punched deep enough that she felt it in her stomach. Her breasts surged against the pulled-down bra with every impact, heavy and soft, nipples tight in the hot air. Sweat had already gathered in the valley between them. Monica’s head tipped back. A raw, open moan tore out of her before she could lock it down — the sound bounced off the metal walls and came back to her, humiliatingly clear.

“You—bastard—ah—”

“Take it Monica.” His voice was low and rough, close to her ear. He gripped her hips hard enough that she would bruise; the pressure of his fingers was another point of heat.  “ You corporate bitch!!  Take all of it.” Ranga screamed

The wet sound of her cunt taking him filled the cabin — filthy, rhythmic, unmistakable. Every time he buried himself to the root a fresh rush of her own wetness coated the condom and spilled down onto the desk in a warm, sticky trail. The air grew thicker with the smell of sex and dust and sweat. Monica tried to keep the anger in her voice, but the words kept breaking apart under the force of his body.

“I hate—fuck—I hate you—”

“Say it louder.”

He leaned forward. One hand planted beside her head on the rough wood; splinters and grit pressed into his palm. The other yanked the bra fully down so both breasts spilled free, soft and heavy, the skin damp with sweat. He closed his mouth over one nipple and sucked hard — heat, wet pressure, the scbang of teeth — while his hips kept driving into her in short, savage thrusts. Monica’s back arched clean off the table. A louder, helpless moan spilled out of her, raw and high. The desk legs scbangd faintly against the floor.

“Ranga—slowly ..slowly —ah, fuck—”

“Your cunt doesn’t think it’s too deep.” He lifted his head; his lips were wet, his voice strained with effort and satisfaction. A drop of sweat fell from his jaw onto her stomach. “It’s soaking the condom. Your cunt is dripping down onto the desk. Listen to it.”

She could hear it — the heavy, liquid slap of his cock pounding into her, the small wet sounds when he pulled back, the creak of stressed wood. Monica’s fingers scrabbled at the desk and found only grit and heat. Her thighs trembled violently around his waist. Each violent thrust forced another broken noise from her throat; she could no longer tell where the anger ended and the pleasure began. The taste of dust and her own earlier arousal still lingered at the back of her tongue.

“Ranga ..Aah ..Aah.. Please slow down ..You…asshole ” Monica was moaning very loudly by now!

He pulled almost all the way out — the head stretching her entrance, the sudden emptiness almost as intense as the fullness — then buried himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. Monica cried out, a raw, open sound that echoed off the walls and seemed to hang in the hot air.

“Fuck, Monica your cunt is so soft and deep ..”

“ Ranga ..go slow ..Aah ..Ahh ..Ahh..” she choked, eyes wet, voice completely ruined. “Go slow ..I ..I am telling you .bastard”

Ranga’s mouth curved. He hooked his arms under her knees, shoved her legs higher and wider until she was completely open and folded, and fucked her with short, vicious strokes that kept his cock grinding against the most sensitive places inside her. The new angle made every thrust feel deeper, more inescapable. Monica’s moans turned continuous — filthy, unwilling, punched out of her with every impact. Her tits bounced hard. Sweat slicked the valley between them and pooled in the hollow of her throat. The smell of sex was everywhere now, mixed with cement dust, hot metal, and the faint rubber scent of the condom.

“Look at you Monica” he muttered, watching her body take him. “how your cunt is taking me full. And still you are complaining!!”

He drove in harder. The protest dissolved into a long, broken moan that trailed off into a whimper. The desk shuddered.

Soon Ranga became even more violent.

What had been hard became merciless. Ranga shifted his grip, hooked her legs higher over his arms, and began pounding into her with short, brutal strokes that had no mercy in them at all. Each thrust drove her harder against the rough wooden desk. The grit and splinters bit into the soft flesh of her ass; every impact scbangd her skin raw against the stained surface. Her fair soft big ass was red like blood from the dirty impact.

Monica cried out — loud, open, no longer controlled.

“Ah—fuck—Ranga— Uhha.  Uhhaaaaaa Ahhh Ahhhhh !”

He didn’t slow. He fucked her through the sound, hips slamming forward, the wet slap of skin on skin cracking through the small cabin again and again. The desk legs scbangd and shuddered. Her ass burned where the wood punished it, but the thick cock driving into her kept forcing pleasure up through the pain until the two sensations tangled and she could no longer separate them.

Her moans grew louder.

At first they still carried anger. Then the anger frayed. What came out of her mouth became rawer, bolder, shameless — long, high, broken sounds that filled the tin cabin and spilled out through the gaps in the walls.

By then she was moaning just so loudly that anyone on the nearby service road would have heard her. A truck passing on the highway would have surely caught the rise and fall of a woman’s voice in unmistakable, rhythmic ecstasy. Monica was lucky the plot of land was deserted and very few people actually walked over that side, or it would have been a public scandal.

“Harder—” she heard herself say, the word torn out of her between thrusts and desperate hard moans. “Don’t you dare—stop— Ranga ..Ahhha.. ”

Ranga’s breath was harsh against her ear. Sweat dropped from his chest onto her stomach and between her breasts. He pounded her without mercy, using the full weight of his body, driving so deep she felt it in her spine. The wooden edge dug into her ass with every stroke; the sting made her clench around him, which only made him groan and fuck her harder.

“Louder,” he growled. “Let the whole site hear how much you are enjoying this...”

Monica’s head tipped back. Another scream of pure, overwhelmed pleasure ripped out of her throat — high enough and long enough that it could have carried across the open land to the highway. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders. Her ass throbbed from the constant scbanging and pounding against the desk, the skin tender and raw, but she no longer asked him to stop. The pain had become part of the intensity; every time the wood bit into her it sharpened the feeling of his cock stretching her open.

“It’s—hurting—” she gasped, even as her legs locked tighter around him. “My ass—the table—uhhh uhhh uhhh ..”

“I don’t care.”

He drove into her even harder, as if to prove the point. The desk groaned. Monica’s moan broke into a near-scream. Outside, far off, a heavy truck’s horn sounded on the highway — a long, low note that mixed for a second with the wet, violent rhythm inside the cabin and her own helpless, carrying voice.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter : The most unbelievable escalation

Ranga drove into her one last brutal time, hips locked tight against the raw, scbangd flesh of her ass, the thick length of him buried so deep she felt the pulse of him through the thin condom. Monica’s scream tore out of her again, high and broken, mixing with the fading echo of the truck horn outside.


He stayed there a second longer, breathing hard against her neck, then pulled out in one wet, sudden slide. The emptiness made her gasp. A thick string of her own juices clung to the condom and snapped against her thigh.


“Get up,” he said, voice rough.

Monica’s legs trembled when he hauled her off the desk. Her ass burned where the wood had punished it; her cunt felt open and used. She tried to put her bra back up, desperately trying to find some scrap of dignity, but Ranga had a crazy sinister plan in mind.


He quietly dragged the metal chair into the middle of the cabin, the legs screeching on the concrete, and sat onto the chair. He stretched open his hairy legs and commanded Monica


“Come here.”

“Fuck you,” Monica spat, voice still sassy even though it was ruined from moaning. “I’m not—”

He reached out, caught her wrist, and yanked her down between his thighs. She stumbled, palms slamming against his shoulders for balance. Before she could push away he hooked one of her ankles and lifted her right foot, planting it firmly on the seat of the chair beside his hip. The position forced her to stand unbalanced, one foot on the floor, one foot up on the chair, her body half-turned away from him. Her ass was right above his cock.

And what an ass it was.

Monica’s ass was a soft, heavy, shamelessly full thing — two thick, fair, pillowy globes that jiggled with every tiny shift of her weight. The skin was fair and smooth- the kind of skin one would find only in high class sophisticated chicks of Gurgaon.  But right now the lower curves of her ass were flushed a deep, angry red from the wood, the marks already blooming into the soft flesh. The cleft between those heavy ass cheeks was deep and shadowed, still glistening with the thin trail of cunt juice that had run down earlier. When she stood like this, one leg lifted, the entire heavy mass of her ass was forced open and presented to Ranga— the soft undersides trembling, the full lower curves spilling outward, the tight, puckered hole at the centre looking almost too small for what was about to happen. It was the kind of ass that looked expensive and spoiled


“Sit,” Ranga ordered.


Monica looked down over her shoulder, eyes flashing, already realising the absolute sinister plan Ranga was upto.

He was planning to fuck Monica’s Ass

.
“You absolute bastard. You already wrecked my cunt. You’re not putting that thing in my —” Monica yelled as she struggled for balance under Ranga’s  heavy weight.


Ranga spat into his palm, reached between those heavy, trembling ass cheeks, and smeared his wet saliva straight over her tight ass hole. Two rough fingers pressed, circled, then pushed in just enough to make her jolt. She hissed.
Monica was not ready for an ass fuck. She screamed in excitement and denial. But there is not much she can do now. She was already enjoying like hell


“I said sit on my cock with your ass, Monica.”


He didn’t force her down yet. He just held her hips steady, the blunt pressure right there against the tight ring of her ass, and looked up at her with that dark, satisfied stare.


“You want Deshmukh to be taken care right ?  Then you sit on it with your ass. All the way. Yourself.”
Monica’s breath came fast. She could feel the heat of him, the way the head already stretched the rim of her ass just from the contact. Her free leg trembled. She tried to lift off, but his hands on her hips were iron.


“I hate you,” she whispered, sassy and shaking at the same time. “I fucking hate you, Ranga.”


Then, slowly—because he wasn’t going to do it for her—she started to lower herself onto his cock with her ass.
It was probably the most degrading thing she could ever imagine. She will be getting ass fucked by a history sheeter.
The thick head forced the tight hole of her ass open with a slow, burning stretch that made her cry out. “Ah—fuck—Ranga No..Ahh ahh —”

“Keep going. Put your ass all the way down on it.”


She sank another inch, thighs shaking, the stretch turning white-hot as her ass was forced to swallow more of him. Her sassy mouth kept fighting even as her body yielded. “You’re—ah—you’re a fucking animal—this is—nnngh—not fair Ranga ..ahh ahhhh”



Ranga’s hands stayed locked on her hips, guiding but not pushing, making her take her own weight into her ass. Another inch. The condom-slick shaft filled the tight channel of her ass, thick and relentless. Monica’s head dropped forward; a long, broken moan spilled out of her before she could stop it.


“Look at that,” he growled. “Your ass is eating my cock. Keep sitting. Take my cock deeper in your ass.”


She dropped further, the burn sharp and deep, until the soft, heavy cheeks of her ass finally met his thighs and every last inch was buried inside her ass. The stretch was brutal. She could feel him pulsing against the tight walls of her ass, the heat of him, the way her body had no choice but to open around the invasion of her ass. A fresh rush of cunt juice dripped down onto his balls.


“Fuck… you…” she gasped, voice still trying to stay sharp. “You—ah—ah- you bastard.. It’s paining Ranga please”


Ranga’s answer was to lock one arm around her waist, plant the other hand between her shoulder blades, and start thrusting upward into her ass in short, savage strokes.
The first upward punch of his cock into her ass drove a raw scream out of Monica. “Ranga—slow—ahhh—hay Bhagwan…”


He fucked up into her ass hard, using the unstable stance against her. Every time she tried to rise on the one foot still on the floor, he simply pulled her back down so his cock slammed deeper into her ass. The wet, filthy sound of his cock pounding her ass filled the cabin—obscene, rhythmic, unmistakable. Her heavy tits bounced hard. Sweat ran down the valley between them and dripped onto his forearm.


Monica’s sassy mouth still tried. “I—ah—fuck—I’m only doing this because—nnngh—you’re a corrupt piece of—ahhh—shit..”


He slammed up harder into her ass. The angle drove him deep enough that she felt it in her stomach. Her free leg gave out for a second; she almost collapsed forward, but his arm around her waist held her locked in place, forced to stay seated so his cock could keep claiming her ass with every brutal stroke.


“You bastard—ah—my ass is—burning” Monica could hardly speak amidst moaning!


“And still you are dripping.” Ranga smirked and reached around with his free hand and slapped her ass.  Monica jerked, a fresh rush of juice spilling down the shaft still buried deep in her ass. “Your cunt is jealous of your ass. Listen to it while I keep fucking your ass.”


The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder as he continued fucking her ass without mercy. Every upward thrust forced another broken sound out of her—anger and pleasure tangled so tightly she couldn’t separate them. Her one foot on the chair seat slipped a little on sweat; the unstable balance made every stroke of his cock into her ass feel more intense, more inescapable.


“Ranga—wait—ahhh—I can’t—I can’t do this anymore—”
“You can. And you will. I’m going to keep fucking your ass until I am done sweetie!”
Monica’s head tipped back. Another raw, open moan tore out of her.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter : All Well that ends Well



Ranga did not slow.  


He kept driving upward into her ass with the same short, savage strokes, the wet slap of his hips against those soft, heavy cheeks filling the cabin. Monica’s head stayed tipped back for another second, the raw moan still hanging in the hot air, then she brought it forward again. Her free foot slipped once on the concrete. The elevated one trembled on the chair seat. She no longer tried to rise or twist away. She simply took the next thrust, and the next, the thick shaft of his cock stretching her ass open on every upward punch.


“Ranga—slow—ahhh—” The words still came out, but they landed softer, almost like a habit she couldn’t quite drop.


Her hips rolled once, small and involuntary, meeting the thrust instead of fighting it. A fresh rush of cunt juice spilled down the shaft buried in her ass and dripped onto his balls.


Ranga felt it. His laugh was low and filthy against her back.

“There it is. Keep pretending you hate this, Monica. I can feel how wet you’re getting while I fuck it.”

“I’m not—” she started, voice still trying for the old sassy bite. Then another deep stroke punched into her ass and the rest of the sentence broke into a long, open moan she couldn’t swallow. “Fuck—Ranga—your cock is—ahhh—too huge—”


She pushed back. Not away. Onto him. The soft, heavy cheeks of her ass met his thighs harder, taking every inch on purpose. The unwilling facade was still there in the shape of her words, but her body had already switched sides.
“Ranga, I want the file in my hands Monday morning by any means” she managed between thrusts, the words thin and breathy. “That’s the only reason I’m letting you—nnngh—use my ass like this—”


“Letting me?” Ranga slammed up harder, using the unstable stance to drive deeper. “Your ass is riding my cock.

Listen to the sound it’s making. That’s not letting. That’s taking.”
Ranga was correct. The wet, rhythmic slap of cock in ass grew louder, filthier. Monica’s heavy tits bounced with every impact. Sweat ran down the valley between them and dripped onto his forearm.


“Look at me,” Ranga ordered, voice rough. “Look at you. How you are getting your ass wrecked and begging for more.”
Monica turned her head just enough to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted, the old sassy fire still flickering underneath the open hunger.

“I’m not begging, bastard” she panted, even as her ass clenched greedily around him.


The facade had cracked wide open. She was still sharp, still mouthy, but the resistance was gone. In its place was pure, shameless enjoyment. She pushed back harder, the soft, expensive curves of her ass bouncing on his cock, cunt dripping steadily onto him, moans no longer broken or reluctant but continuous and filthy.


The rest dissolved into a long, high cry as a purely filthy orgasm hit her. Her ass clenched hard and rhythmic around the thick shaft still pounding into her, cunt pulsing and spilling fresh wetness down onto his balls. She rode it openly, shamelessly, slamming her heavy cheeks down onto him through every wave, the unwilling woman from the start of the scene completely gone.


When Monica’s peak finally loosened its grip she stayed seated on his cock, breathing hard, voice rough and satisfied. Ranga’s smile was slow and proud.
“ Ranga’s smile was slow and proud, the kind that belonged to a man who had just watched a high-class woman break open on his cock.


“You cummed a lot Sweetie..” he said, voice low and rough with satisfaction. “I knew this tight little hole would own you the moment I stretched it.”


He laughed and let out a long animal like moan..


“I’m also close sweetie,” he told her, hips grinding up hard.

Monica’s eyes snapped open. The pleasure still fogged her voice, but the old sharp edge cut through.


“Don’t you dare take off the condom. Ranga, I’m serious. You cum inside it or you pull out. You do not—”

Ranga’s laugh was dark and immediate. He never slowed the rhythm of his cock in her ass.
He pulled his cock out of Monica’s wet ass hole and laughed and pinched the base of the condom, and pulled it off in one smooth motion

“Open,” he ordered.

Monica barely had time to turn her head. Ranga stood, fist wrapped tight around his thick, glistening cock, and released hard!

The first thick rope hit Monica’s face and the corner of her mouth. The second striped across her lips and chin. The third and fourth landed heavy across her tits, hot and sticky, sliding down the soft curves and into the cleavage between them. He kept his cock still, as a shocked Monica watched getting painted on her face and tits in heavy, milky streaks until her skin shone with it.

Monica’s eyes went wide. The amount of semen shocked her.

“Yuck—fuck, Ranga—there’s so much—” She turned her face slightly, voice thick with disgust and residual arousal. “It’s everywhere. You absolute animal—”

Ranga didn’t let her finish. His hand was already in her hair, guiding her down.

“Lick my balls clean. Now. Then the bush around my cock. Every drop that missed your face.”

Monica made a small sound of protest but opened her mouth. She licked the heavy, sweat-damp sac slowly, tongue dragging over the tight skin, tasting salt and the leftover musk of her own ass. Ranga kept his grip firm.


“Good. Now the bush. Get in there. I want it clean.”

Monica gagged and tried to break free but Ranga held her tight over his balls.

She had to work her tongue through the coarse dark curls beside his cock and it was stinking in the most horrible smell of sweat and filthy. She licked away the smears of cum that had caught there, the taste thick and bitter on her tongue. He made her stay until every trace was gone.
Only then did he lifted her chin up. He held her neck strongly.
“Now your tits. Lick them clean. Slow. I want to watch every second.”
Monica looked down at the heavy white creamy streaks across her soft, fair breasts. She hesitated for half a breath.
“Ranga—”

“Slow,” he repeated, voice calm and absolute. “Start at the top. Use your tongue. Don’t rush it.”

“Ranga ..I will throw up now…. you made me swallow so much cum off your fucking dirty cock.. You are an absolute crazy fucking maniac!!”

“Quick Monica, you can do better… your juicy tits have so much cum. Mishra will come in some time now… you want him to see this mess on your breasts, huh?”

Monica involuntarily got her tongue near her large firm naked breasts.

Monica shuddered thinking what has happened to her. If someone opened that cabin door right now one would see her on her knees naked, face sticky, tongue dragging across her own breasts, cleaning another man’s cum like a paid whore. The thought made her stomach twist.
She had never done anything this degrading in her entire life.  
Not in college. Not in any relationship. Never in marriage. Not even in the darkest corners of her own mind. Anal sex with a history-sheeter in a dusty construction cabin was already beyond every line she thought she had. And today, that last boundary of modesty was so royally broken. No amount of internal monologue can wash off the sin she allowed to happen today. There is no way ever she can go back from this tin cabin with a normal frame of mind.

But……..
And yet…


Her nipples were still tight.  
Her cunt was still wet and throbbing from the orgasm Ranga had forced out of her while his cock was buried in her ass. Every slow drag of her tongue across the sticky white streaks sent a confusing spark of heat between her legs. Disgust sat heavy in her throat.

*What the fuck is wrong with me?* Monica thought again
She lifted her left breast higher and dragged her tongue through another thick streak, slower this time because Ranga had told her to. The salty, musky taste filled her mouth again. She wanted to spit. Instead she swallowed and kept going,

Ranga’s voice came again, calm and amused.


“Under the nipple. Clean it properly. Don’t leave anything for Mishra to see.”
Monica’s internal voice of guilty was louder than his. The contradiction made her feel light-headed. Disgust rolled through her in waves. So did the residual ache in her freshly fucked ass and the shameful, lingering wetness between her thighs. The two feelings refused to separate. They tangled until she could no longer tell which one was stronger.

She moved to the right breast, tongue working deliberately under Ranga’s watchful satisfied eyes. Another thick rope of cum stretched and broke under her tongue. She licked it away. Then the valley between her tits, where most of it had collected. The wet sound of her own tongue on her own skin was louder than it should have been in the quiet cabin.


Monica thought again while licking *Thirty minutes ago I was still fighting him.*  
*Now I am cleaning his cum off my body with my mouth*

“That’s better,” he murmured. “Keep going till you clean the last drop of my cum. Slow. I like watching you do this.”


Monica closed her eyes for a second and kept licking.
She finished the last streak on the underside of her right breast and lowered her hands. Her tits were shiny with her own saliva, the worst of the cum gone, but the sticky feeling remained on her skin and in her mouth.


For a few long seconds they simply looked at each other — No words.
Then he hauled her up by the arms, pulled her against him, and kissed her.
It was long. Deep. Almost agonizing in its intensity. His tongue pushed into her mouth, tasting his own cum on her lips, and she opened for him without resistance. One of his hands cupped the back of her head; the other gripped the soft, still-sensitive curve of her ass. Monica’s fingers dug into his shoulders. The kiss went on, wet and hungry and strangely intimate after everything that had just been done to her body, until both of them were breathing hard through their noses and the cabin felt even smaller than before.
When he finally broke the kiss, their foreheads stayed pressed together for one more second.

[KingRocks]

Outstanding updates. So finally ranga got monia under him and over him. Took her from both sides. Loved the updates with every minute detail. Now that filthy transition is done between the two will the ranga hold his end of bargin and willakesy find out about this or monica will again pay using her body for another transaction

[shrenik007]

Great updates!!

[Shabaz123]

Awesome hot domineting update....mind blowing

[SilverArrow]

Outstanding updates. So finally ranga got monia under him and over him. Took her from both sides. Loved the updates with every minute detail. Now that filthy transition is done between the two will the ranga hold his end of bargin and willakesy find out about this or monica will again pay using her body for another transaction

Keep following for the next stage of bargain

[SilverArrow]

Awesome hot domineting update....mind blowing

Thanks for your support

[KingRocks]

Keep following for the next stage of bargain

Hope to see upcoming updates soon

[SilverArrow]

Hope to see upcoming updates soon

Yes next update coming very soon... Stay tuned.
Also please tell how you would like the story to follow

[Shabaz123]

Waiting update

[NityaSakti]

You can kill rakesh and take the story forward with adventure with many.