25-08-2024, 02:31 PM
You peek through a gap in the blinds, your eyes widening at the sight. Anita, your petite fiancée, stands before Supratim's imposing figure. At 5'10", he towers over her 5'1" frame, his full head of lush black hair a stark contrast to your own thinning locks.
Anita's olive skin flushes as she stammers, "T-thank you, sir. But I should really get back to work."
Supratim takes a step closer, his broad shoulders blocking your view. "Nonsense, it's your birthday. Let me treat you to dinner."
Your cock twitches traitorously in your pants as you imagine his large hands on Anita's slim thick body, cupping her shoulders.
"I appreciate the offer, but I can't," Anita insists, her voice wavering. "Arijit and I have plans."
Supratim chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Ah yes, your fiancé. Tell me, does he satisfy you the way I used to?"
Your breath catches in your throat. The roses slip from your grasp, scattering petals at your feet as you lean in closer, desperate to hear Anita's response.
"That's... that's not appropriate, sir," she whispers, but you detect a hint of curiosity in her tone.
"Perhaps not," Supratim agrees, his voice dropping an octave. "But I can't help wondering if you miss what we had. The passion, the intensity. Come on, Anita," Supratim's deep, confident voice continues. "We both know you've been thinking about this since you started working here. Don't you remember how good we were together?"
You watch, paralyzed, as his hand reaches out, his fingers now grazing Anita's cheek. She doesn't pull away.
"Supratim, please," she breathes, her resistance crumbling. "I'm engaged now."
"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, tilting her chin up. "In my office, after work, looking up at me with those same doe eyes that captivated me in college."
Your cock strains against your zipper as you witness this exchange, a cocktail of jealousy and arousal coursing through your veins. You want to burst in, to claim Anita as yours, but your feet remain rooted to the spot.
As Supratim's lips descend towards Anita's, your breath catches in your throat. The world seems to slow down, each heartbeat thundering in your ears. Just as their mouths are about to meet, Anita turns her head slightly, Supratim's lips grazing her cheek instead.
"Supratim, we shouldn't," Anita's voice wavers, a mix of reluctance and something else... curiosity? Desire? "I'm with Arijit now. He's a good man."
Your cock throbs painfully against your zipper, a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment washing over you. You shift slightly, trying to get a better view through the narrow gap in the blinds. Supratim's imposing figure blocks most of your line of sight, but you can still make out tantalizing flashes of Anita's olive skin and the curve of her modest blouse. Your heart pounds as you strain to catch every detail, your imagination running wild with the things you can't quite see. The roses in your hand are forgotten, crushed in your white-knuckled grip as you watch the scene unfold before you.
A low chuckle from Supratim sends a shiver down your spine. "I'm sure he is. But can he make you feel the way I did? The way I still can?"
You clench your fists, jealousy and anger surging through you. How dare he speak to your fiancée like that? But beneath the rage, a treacherous spark of arousal ignites in your core.
"That's... that's not relevant," Anita stammers. You catch a glimpse of her stepping back, but Supratim's tall frame follows.
"Isn't it?" His voice drops to a husky whisper. "Don't tell me you've forgotten our nights together. How I made you scream my name."
Your cock twitches traitorously at his words, imagination running wild with images of Anita writhing beneath Supratim's muscular body. You want to burst in, to assert your claim, but fear paralyzes you. What could you, a short skinny 5'4" man, do against this Adonis?
"Please," Anita's voice is barely audible. "We can't do this. I love Arijit."
"Love him all you want," Supratim purrs. "But admit it, you crave what only I can give you."
You see his hand move, presumably caressing Anita's face. Your breath catches as you wait for her response, torn between hoping she'll resist and a shameful desire to hear her submit.
"I... I..." Anita's hesitation is palpable, her resolve clearly wavering.
Your heart nearly stops as you hear a sudden gasp from Anita, followed by the unmistakable sound of lips meeting. You strain your eyes, desperate to see more, but all you can make out is Supratim's broad back and Anita's delicate hands pushing against his chest.
"Mmph! Supra-" Anita's muffled protest is cut short by what you can only imagine is Supratim deepening the kiss.
The wet sounds of their lips moving together fill the air, punctuated by Anita's little whimpers and Supratim's low groans. Your cock throbs painfully in your pants as you picture his tongue invading her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.
"God, I've missed this," Supratim growls between kisses. "Your lips are even sweeter than I remember."
You catch a glimpse of his lean, muscular arms wrapping around Anita's petite frame, pulling her flush against him. The contrast in their sizes is stark - her small petite frame engulfed by his taller, toned physique. You imagine how small, how vulnerable she must feel in his embrace, his masculine features and bristly facial hair emphasizing her soft femininity. A wave of inadequacy washes over you as you picture Anita's smooth cheek pressed against the rough texture of his beard, a sensation you can't provide with your clean-shaven face.
"We... we shouldn't," Anita gasps, but her voice lacks conviction. "Arijit..."
"Forget him," Supratim murmurs, and you see him shift, presumably to trail kisses down her neck. "Feel how our bodies fit together. This is right, Anita. This is what you need."
“Ungghhhh….”, a soft moan escapes Anita's lips, sending a jolt of arousal and shame through your body. You want to burst in, to tear them apart, but you're rooted to the spot. What could you do against Supratim? His lean, muscular body would easily overpower your shorter, more delicate frame.
"Please," Anita whimpers, but whether she's begging him to stop or continue, you're not sure. "This is wrong..."
"Then why does it feel so good?" Supratim challenges, his voice husky with desire.
You catch another glimpse of them through the gap in the blinds. Supratim's large hand is tangled in Anita's thick, dark tresses, firmly tilting her head back as he claims her mouth. His dark prickly beard brushes against her soft skin, the friction heightening the warmth of her dusky complexion. Anita's arms tremble as they wrap around his neck, her body betraying her mind's resistance.
Their lips move in a frenzied dance, Supratim's tongue insistently probing, demanding entry. "Mmmphhhhh....", Anita whimpers softly, her mouth opening just enough to let him in. You can see the conflict in her eyes - desire warring with guilt. Her fingers clench and unclench in the fabric of his shirt, as if she's fighting the urge to push him away.
Supratim's other hand roams boldly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her shapely ass, kneading the flesh through her trousers. Anita's body arches involuntarily, pressing her modest breasts against his broad chest. She breaks the kiss, gasping for air, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "We shouldn't... Arijit..."
But Supratim silences her weak protest with another searing kiss, his beard scbanging her chin as he angles her head for deeper access. Anita's resistance is crumbling, her body responding even as her mind struggles to hold onto the last shreds of loyalty.
The realization hits you like a punch to the gut: your fiancée is melting into the arms of another man. A man taller, more handsome, more successful than you. A man who took her virginity and is now threatening to reclaim her.
Anita's olive skin flushes as she stammers, "T-thank you, sir. But I should really get back to work."
Supratim takes a step closer, his broad shoulders blocking your view. "Nonsense, it's your birthday. Let me treat you to dinner."
Your cock twitches traitorously in your pants as you imagine his large hands on Anita's slim thick body, cupping her shoulders.
"I appreciate the offer, but I can't," Anita insists, her voice wavering. "Arijit and I have plans."
Supratim chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Ah yes, your fiancé. Tell me, does he satisfy you the way I used to?"
Your breath catches in your throat. The roses slip from your grasp, scattering petals at your feet as you lean in closer, desperate to hear Anita's response.
"That's... that's not appropriate, sir," she whispers, but you detect a hint of curiosity in her tone.
"Perhaps not," Supratim agrees, his voice dropping an octave. "But I can't help wondering if you miss what we had. The passion, the intensity. Come on, Anita," Supratim's deep, confident voice continues. "We both know you've been thinking about this since you started working here. Don't you remember how good we were together?"
You watch, paralyzed, as his hand reaches out, his fingers now grazing Anita's cheek. She doesn't pull away.
"Supratim, please," she breathes, her resistance crumbling. "I'm engaged now."
"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, tilting her chin up. "In my office, after work, looking up at me with those same doe eyes that captivated me in college."
Your cock strains against your zipper as you witness this exchange, a cocktail of jealousy and arousal coursing through your veins. You want to burst in, to claim Anita as yours, but your feet remain rooted to the spot.
As Supratim's lips descend towards Anita's, your breath catches in your throat. The world seems to slow down, each heartbeat thundering in your ears. Just as their mouths are about to meet, Anita turns her head slightly, Supratim's lips grazing her cheek instead.
"Supratim, we shouldn't," Anita's voice wavers, a mix of reluctance and something else... curiosity? Desire? "I'm with Arijit now. He's a good man."
Your cock throbs painfully against your zipper, a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment washing over you. You shift slightly, trying to get a better view through the narrow gap in the blinds. Supratim's imposing figure blocks most of your line of sight, but you can still make out tantalizing flashes of Anita's olive skin and the curve of her modest blouse. Your heart pounds as you strain to catch every detail, your imagination running wild with the things you can't quite see. The roses in your hand are forgotten, crushed in your white-knuckled grip as you watch the scene unfold before you.
A low chuckle from Supratim sends a shiver down your spine. "I'm sure he is. But can he make you feel the way I did? The way I still can?"
You clench your fists, jealousy and anger surging through you. How dare he speak to your fiancée like that? But beneath the rage, a treacherous spark of arousal ignites in your core.
"That's... that's not relevant," Anita stammers. You catch a glimpse of her stepping back, but Supratim's tall frame follows.
"Isn't it?" His voice drops to a husky whisper. "Don't tell me you've forgotten our nights together. How I made you scream my name."
Your cock twitches traitorously at his words, imagination running wild with images of Anita writhing beneath Supratim's muscular body. You want to burst in, to assert your claim, but fear paralyzes you. What could you, a short skinny 5'4" man, do against this Adonis?
"Please," Anita's voice is barely audible. "We can't do this. I love Arijit."
"Love him all you want," Supratim purrs. "But admit it, you crave what only I can give you."
You see his hand move, presumably caressing Anita's face. Your breath catches as you wait for her response, torn between hoping she'll resist and a shameful desire to hear her submit.
"I... I..." Anita's hesitation is palpable, her resolve clearly wavering.
Your heart nearly stops as you hear a sudden gasp from Anita, followed by the unmistakable sound of lips meeting. You strain your eyes, desperate to see more, but all you can make out is Supratim's broad back and Anita's delicate hands pushing against his chest.
"Mmph! Supra-" Anita's muffled protest is cut short by what you can only imagine is Supratim deepening the kiss.
The wet sounds of their lips moving together fill the air, punctuated by Anita's little whimpers and Supratim's low groans. Your cock throbs painfully in your pants as you picture his tongue invading her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.
"God, I've missed this," Supratim growls between kisses. "Your lips are even sweeter than I remember."
You catch a glimpse of his lean, muscular arms wrapping around Anita's petite frame, pulling her flush against him. The contrast in their sizes is stark - her small petite frame engulfed by his taller, toned physique. You imagine how small, how vulnerable she must feel in his embrace, his masculine features and bristly facial hair emphasizing her soft femininity. A wave of inadequacy washes over you as you picture Anita's smooth cheek pressed against the rough texture of his beard, a sensation you can't provide with your clean-shaven face.
"We... we shouldn't," Anita gasps, but her voice lacks conviction. "Arijit..."
"Forget him," Supratim murmurs, and you see him shift, presumably to trail kisses down her neck. "Feel how our bodies fit together. This is right, Anita. This is what you need."
“Ungghhhh….”, a soft moan escapes Anita's lips, sending a jolt of arousal and shame through your body. You want to burst in, to tear them apart, but you're rooted to the spot. What could you do against Supratim? His lean, muscular body would easily overpower your shorter, more delicate frame.
"Please," Anita whimpers, but whether she's begging him to stop or continue, you're not sure. "This is wrong..."
"Then why does it feel so good?" Supratim challenges, his voice husky with desire.
You catch another glimpse of them through the gap in the blinds. Supratim's large hand is tangled in Anita's thick, dark tresses, firmly tilting her head back as he claims her mouth. His dark prickly beard brushes against her soft skin, the friction heightening the warmth of her dusky complexion. Anita's arms tremble as they wrap around his neck, her body betraying her mind's resistance.
Their lips move in a frenzied dance, Supratim's tongue insistently probing, demanding entry. "Mmmphhhhh....", Anita whimpers softly, her mouth opening just enough to let him in. You can see the conflict in her eyes - desire warring with guilt. Her fingers clench and unclench in the fabric of his shirt, as if she's fighting the urge to push him away.
Supratim's other hand roams boldly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her shapely ass, kneading the flesh through her trousers. Anita's body arches involuntarily, pressing her modest breasts against his broad chest. She breaks the kiss, gasping for air, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "We shouldn't... Arijit..."
But Supratim silences her weak protest with another searing kiss, his beard scbanging her chin as he angles her head for deeper access. Anita's resistance is crumbling, her body responding even as her mind struggles to hold onto the last shreds of loyalty.
The realization hits you like a punch to the gut: your fiancée is melting into the arms of another man. A man taller, more handsome, more successful than you. A man who took her virginity and is now threatening to reclaim her.
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