19-02-2023, 12:24 AM
Mansi walked out of the room and got in a lift. Her thighs hurt and her pussy was sore. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. Her brain was a stew of conflicting emotions. On the physical and carnal level, she could not deny that she was very thoroughly satisfied. Her first ever threesome had been even better than her first time with Dutt. Bhaskar wasn't as skilled as his friend, but boy could he keep going on and on. She also found herself liking his brusque arrogant manner. By the end, she was starting to positively enjoy his slaps.
But that final revelation had soured her mood. How could she have been so naive as to think that some random woman she didn't know too well even in Meerut would be genuinely concerned about her well-being? How did she not see that it had been an elaborate scheme all along? Reena had betrayed her trust, and that hurt more than anything.
Then there was the growing self-realization that she had been deluding herself about what she really was. All along, she had fooled herself into believing that what she and Duttsahab had between them was something special. A forbidden kind of relationship, but real and passionate. She had often asked herself if she was falling in love with the man, and if he too was falling in love with her. In idle moments, she would daydream about being with him full time. Leave Amar, take Pinky with her, and spend the rest of her life with the charming suave lover who satisfied her in a way Amar never could.
But that day's events had shown her that she wasn't something special to him. How easily he had shared her with another man. And never spoken up to stop Bhaskar from doing whatever he wanted. She wasn't a mistress or lover that Dutt showered gifts on. She had been, all along, a whore to him. And now that she had willingly let another guy fuck her with him, she was just a whore. Full stop.
The lift stopped on one of the middle floors. The door opened and she immediately looked away. It was the waiter from before, pushing another cart. He smiled politely at her, trying not to laugh. Look at her, he thought silently. Looking so innocent and decent in this sari. And yet he remembered how she looked in that slinky dress up in the room. Sweaty and just-fucked. Dress stained with who knows what. And he remembered how sticky her legs looked. Must have been the old men's semen. He wondered how much she charged. Not that he could ever afford her, but it might be a good way to make some extra money.
"Excuse me, ma'am." he said.
Mansi kept looking away and pretended not to have heard him. It was embarrassing enough being in his company after how he had seen her. She did not want to talk to him.
"Ma'am...if you have a number or something, let me know. Lots of rich businessmen stay here, and they are always asking for good company. I could...ma'am ma'am?"
The lift stopped at another floor and Mansi just ran out and took the stairs. This was further confirmation that she was just another whore now. Yes, a well paid one. But a whore nonetheless.
-
But that final revelation had soured her mood. How could she have been so naive as to think that some random woman she didn't know too well even in Meerut would be genuinely concerned about her well-being? How did she not see that it had been an elaborate scheme all along? Reena had betrayed her trust, and that hurt more than anything.
Then there was the growing self-realization that she had been deluding herself about what she really was. All along, she had fooled herself into believing that what she and Duttsahab had between them was something special. A forbidden kind of relationship, but real and passionate. She had often asked herself if she was falling in love with the man, and if he too was falling in love with her. In idle moments, she would daydream about being with him full time. Leave Amar, take Pinky with her, and spend the rest of her life with the charming suave lover who satisfied her in a way Amar never could.
But that day's events had shown her that she wasn't something special to him. How easily he had shared her with another man. And never spoken up to stop Bhaskar from doing whatever he wanted. She wasn't a mistress or lover that Dutt showered gifts on. She had been, all along, a whore to him. And now that she had willingly let another guy fuck her with him, she was just a whore. Full stop.
The lift stopped on one of the middle floors. The door opened and she immediately looked away. It was the waiter from before, pushing another cart. He smiled politely at her, trying not to laugh. Look at her, he thought silently. Looking so innocent and decent in this sari. And yet he remembered how she looked in that slinky dress up in the room. Sweaty and just-fucked. Dress stained with who knows what. And he remembered how sticky her legs looked. Must have been the old men's semen. He wondered how much she charged. Not that he could ever afford her, but it might be a good way to make some extra money.
"Excuse me, ma'am." he said.
Mansi kept looking away and pretended not to have heard him. It was embarrassing enough being in his company after how he had seen her. She did not want to talk to him.
"Ma'am...if you have a number or something, let me know. Lots of rich businessmen stay here, and they are always asking for good company. I could...ma'am ma'am?"
The lift stopped at another floor and Mansi just ran out and took the stairs. This was further confirmation that she was just another whore now. Yes, a well paid one. But a whore nonetheless.
-
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)