23-10-2024, 10:04 PM
Continuation
Next day
Afrah sat at her desk, her fingers aimlessly tapping on the keyboard, but her focus was miles away. Every slight shift in her seat reminded her of the aching, dripping wetness between her thighs, her arousal clinging to her skin, making her squirm in frustration. She had never felt this on edge before—her body practically begging for release, and yet, she was trapped in the office, surrounded by people, unable to do a damn thing about it.
The tight denim of her jeans only made things worse. Every subtle movement rubbed against her in the worst way possible, the fabric pressing against her, amplifying the irritation. The friction wasn’t enough to relieve the throbbing tension; instead, it made her more uncomfortable, making her feel even more wet. She could practically feel the damp heat seeping through, making her feel more aware of how desperate her body was for an escape.
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: 0041bbcd-7284-4c4b-97cb-e45f7c019c21.png]](https://i.ibb.co/w74L6SZ/0041bbcd-7284-4c4b-97cb-e45f7c019c21.png)
" />
She had been so close to relief this morning, planning to take a long shower and ease the tension that had been building since last night. But the stupid guests had ruined that plan, and now she was left stewing in her own frustration, trapped in her jeans, unable to do anything about the burning heat inside her.
Her mind kept drifting back to Vishal, to the thirst trap she had sent him. That teasing photo had been her way of luring him in, making him think of her all night, but now she was the one suffering. The thought of his eyes roaming over her picture, imagining his reaction, only made her wetter. The slickness between her thighs had grown unbearable, her body constantly reminding her of what she hadn’t finished, what she craved.
God, I’m so wet, she thought bitterly, her thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache. But it was no use—the denim clung to her, trapping the heat, making her even more agitated. She couldn’t focus on anything except the lingering pulse of need, the sharp reminder of how close she had been to release this morning, and how far away it seemed now.
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: GIF-20241023-211219-198.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/drrdgkB/GIF-20241023-211219-198.gif)
" />
To make matters worse, Vishal was nearby. She hadn’t seen him yet, but she knew he was close, and the knowledge of that only made her heart race faster. He was the cause of all this—the smoldering tension, the building frustration. The thought of him, with his delicious muscles and that knowing smile, made her head spin with a mix of desire and anger. She wanted him, and she hated how much power he had over her.
She shifted in her seat again, biting her lip to stifle a groan as the wetness only seemed to grow, her jeans rubbing mercilessly against her, heightening her frustration. She clenched her fists, desperate for some kind of release, but knowing there was nothing she could do here. All she could do was wait—wait for the moment she saw Vishal, knowing that when they finally crossed paths, the tension between them would be impossible to ignore.
[img]<a href=[/img]![[Image: GIF-20241023-210738-954.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/Ch7fwq9/GIF-20241023-210738-954.gif)
" />
Afrah’s mind spiraled as she locked eyes with Vishal. Thoughts raced through her head, wild and intoxicating. She imagined launching herself at him, their lips crashing together, feeling the hard planes of his body pressing against hers. The heat of his skin ignited her desire, and in a flash of madness, she fantasized about slapping him for the frustration he had caused her, all the while begging him to make her cum.
The very thought of him taking her right there in the office, claiming her in front of everyone, made her pulse quicken and her body thrum with need. The image of him lifting her onto his desk, the thrill of being so exposed yet so desired, sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through her.
[img]<a href=[/img]
But then, her good conscience pulled her back, reminding her of the reality she was bound to. 'Bad Afrah,'she scolded herself. 'You’re engaged.' The name of her fiancé, Sohail, echoed in her mind like a lifeline, grounding her even as her darker thoughts whispered seductive temptations.
Yet, the darker side of her mind fought back, taunting her with memories from their trip to Goa. She recalled the way Vishal’s mouth had felt against hers, the intoxicating taste of him, the way his hands had roamed her body, igniting every nerve ending. His lips on her skin had been electric, and the thought of his mouth exploring her further made her body ache for more.
'Think about how good it felt,' that darker voice urged. "Think about his lips on your pussy."
Afrah's breath hitched at her imagination, her cheeks flushing with heat as she battled against the tide of her own desires. The conflict raged within her—one part yearning to act on the impulse, to succumb to the wild attraction that drew her to Vishal, while the other fought to remind her of her engagement.
"No, you are engaged to Sohail," her good conscience insisted, pushing back against the seductive allure of Vishal’s presence. Yet, even as she tried to resist, the images flooded her mind—Vishal head pressed against her thighs as his mouth lick all her wetness.
Her heart raced with the tension, the delicious torment of wanting what she knew she shouldn’t. She clenched her fists, willing herself to regain control, but the lines between right and wrong blurred with every passing moment.
Just as Afrah's thoughts spiraled deeper into temptation, a colleague called out to Vishal, breaking the electric tension that had enveloped them. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as he turned, his attention momentarily diverted, and began walking away.
.
'Get a grip, Afrah,' she told herself, but her body betrayed her, yearning for what she couldn't have. Each passing moment felt like a taunt, her arousal still simmering, a hot, restless ache that demanded attention. She was left to battle her own desires, caught between the memory of what she craved and the reality of what she couldn’t pursue.
The day dragged on at the office, each hour stretching into eternity, but nothing could distract Afrah from the ache simmering inside her. Now, lying in bed, she felt a surge of frustration. The guests still hadn’t left, trapping her in this shared room and robbing her of the privacy she desperately craved.
The muffled sounds of laughter and conversation seeped through the walls, heightening her restlessness. She twisted in the sheets, the fabric clinging to her damp skin, and pressed her thighs together in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing heat between her legs. Memories of Vishal flooded her mind—his body, his gaze, the way he made her feel alive and utterly desired.
Every thought of him ignited her senses, leaving her breathless and yearning for his touch. 'What am I going to do?' The fire within her raged, demanding release, yet here she was, confined and frustrated. The enticing memory of his lips on hers, the way he could coax pleasure from her body, sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her.
Afrah closed her eyes, her body aching for the satisfaction she couldn’t have. The tension was unbearable, and she was left to wrestle with her desires, caught between the seductive lure of what she wanted and the reality of her situation.
----
At home the guest were still there.
Afrah tried to distract herself, but the tension in her body remained palpable. She tossed and turned in bed, her thoughts consumed by the lingering desire that wouldn’t let her be. Just then, her cousin Laiba knocked lightly on the door before entering.
“Hey, you okay?” Laiba ( one of the guest)asked, noticing Afrah’s restless demeanor. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Afrah forced a smile, trying to hide her frustration. “I’m fine. Just tired,” she replied, but the lie felt flimsy, weighed down by the heat pooling in her core.
Laiba stepped further into the room, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, don’t give me that. Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” She lean, her expression teasing and playful.
Afrah gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep her cool as Laiba's presence grated on her nerves. If she knew how horny I am, Afrah thought bitterly, feeling a wave of irritation rise. .
Laiba raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. She stepped closer, her tone teasing. “You know, it’s perfectly normal to have some pre-wedding jitters.”
Afrah swallowed hard, the tension in her body only heightening her frustration. “I’m fine about that,” she said, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. In truth, her thoughts were miles away from Sohail, caught up in a swirl of desire that made her restless, he was not who had stirred it.
“Oh, really? Because it looks like someone has been daydreaming a bit too much about her fiancé,” Laiba teased, crossing her arms with a playful grin. “What’s got you so distracted? Is it the wedding plans or something else?”
Afrah tried to laugh it off, but her voice was tinged with irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, the nervousness betraying her.
Laiba stepped closer, her playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “Listen, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. I get it. Planning a wedding can be stressful. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the moments leading up to it.”
Afrah took a deep breath, her heart racing as she faced the truth. While Sohail was her fiancé, her thoughts had been drawn elsewhere, and the fire igniting within her was not centered on him. “I just want everything to be perfect,” she said .But her mind didn't want think about wedding now ,her mind was at present was concentrated in between her legs.
Next day
Afrah sat at her desk, her fingers aimlessly tapping on the keyboard, but her focus was miles away. Every slight shift in her seat reminded her of the aching, dripping wetness between her thighs, her arousal clinging to her skin, making her squirm in frustration. She had never felt this on edge before—her body practically begging for release, and yet, she was trapped in the office, surrounded by people, unable to do a damn thing about it.
The tight denim of her jeans only made things worse. Every subtle movement rubbed against her in the worst way possible, the fabric pressing against her, amplifying the irritation. The friction wasn’t enough to relieve the throbbing tension; instead, it made her more uncomfortable, making her feel even more wet. She could practically feel the damp heat seeping through, making her feel more aware of how desperate her body was for an escape.
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />She had been so close to relief this morning, planning to take a long shower and ease the tension that had been building since last night. But the stupid guests had ruined that plan, and now she was left stewing in her own frustration, trapped in her jeans, unable to do anything about the burning heat inside her.
Her mind kept drifting back to Vishal, to the thirst trap she had sent him. That teasing photo had been her way of luring him in, making him think of her all night, but now she was the one suffering. The thought of his eyes roaming over her picture, imagining his reaction, only made her wetter. The slickness between her thighs had grown unbearable, her body constantly reminding her of what she hadn’t finished, what she craved.
God, I’m so wet, she thought bitterly, her thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache. But it was no use—the denim clung to her, trapping the heat, making her even more agitated. She couldn’t focus on anything except the lingering pulse of need, the sharp reminder of how close she had been to release this morning, and how far away it seemed now.
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />To make matters worse, Vishal was nearby. She hadn’t seen him yet, but she knew he was close, and the knowledge of that only made her heart race faster. He was the cause of all this—the smoldering tension, the building frustration. The thought of him, with his delicious muscles and that knowing smile, made her head spin with a mix of desire and anger. She wanted him, and she hated how much power he had over her.
She shifted in her seat again, biting her lip to stifle a groan as the wetness only seemed to grow, her jeans rubbing mercilessly against her, heightening her frustration. She clenched her fists, desperate for some kind of release, but knowing there was nothing she could do here. All she could do was wait—wait for the moment she saw Vishal, knowing that when they finally crossed paths, the tension between them would be impossible to ignore.
[img]<a href=[/img]
" />Afrah’s mind spiraled as she locked eyes with Vishal. Thoughts raced through her head, wild and intoxicating. She imagined launching herself at him, their lips crashing together, feeling the hard planes of his body pressing against hers. The heat of his skin ignited her desire, and in a flash of madness, she fantasized about slapping him for the frustration he had caused her, all the while begging him to make her cum.
The very thought of him taking her right there in the office, claiming her in front of everyone, made her pulse quicken and her body thrum with need. The image of him lifting her onto his desk, the thrill of being so exposed yet so desired, sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through her.
[img]<a href=[/img]
But then, her good conscience pulled her back, reminding her of the reality she was bound to. 'Bad Afrah,'she scolded herself. 'You’re engaged.' The name of her fiancé, Sohail, echoed in her mind like a lifeline, grounding her even as her darker thoughts whispered seductive temptations.
Yet, the darker side of her mind fought back, taunting her with memories from their trip to Goa. She recalled the way Vishal’s mouth had felt against hers, the intoxicating taste of him, the way his hands had roamed her body, igniting every nerve ending. His lips on her skin had been electric, and the thought of his mouth exploring her further made her body ache for more.
'Think about how good it felt,' that darker voice urged. "Think about his lips on your pussy."
Afrah's breath hitched at her imagination, her cheeks flushing with heat as she battled against the tide of her own desires. The conflict raged within her—one part yearning to act on the impulse, to succumb to the wild attraction that drew her to Vishal, while the other fought to remind her of her engagement.
"No, you are engaged to Sohail," her good conscience insisted, pushing back against the seductive allure of Vishal’s presence. Yet, even as she tried to resist, the images flooded her mind—Vishal head pressed against her thighs as his mouth lick all her wetness.
Her heart raced with the tension, the delicious torment of wanting what she knew she shouldn’t. She clenched her fists, willing herself to regain control, but the lines between right and wrong blurred with every passing moment.
Just as Afrah's thoughts spiraled deeper into temptation, a colleague called out to Vishal, breaking the electric tension that had enveloped them. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as he turned, his attention momentarily diverted, and began walking away.
.
'Get a grip, Afrah,' she told herself, but her body betrayed her, yearning for what she couldn't have. Each passing moment felt like a taunt, her arousal still simmering, a hot, restless ache that demanded attention. She was left to battle her own desires, caught between the memory of what she craved and the reality of what she couldn’t pursue.
The day dragged on at the office, each hour stretching into eternity, but nothing could distract Afrah from the ache simmering inside her. Now, lying in bed, she felt a surge of frustration. The guests still hadn’t left, trapping her in this shared room and robbing her of the privacy she desperately craved.
The muffled sounds of laughter and conversation seeped through the walls, heightening her restlessness. She twisted in the sheets, the fabric clinging to her damp skin, and pressed her thighs together in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing heat between her legs. Memories of Vishal flooded her mind—his body, his gaze, the way he made her feel alive and utterly desired.
Every thought of him ignited her senses, leaving her breathless and yearning for his touch. 'What am I going to do?' The fire within her raged, demanding release, yet here she was, confined and frustrated. The enticing memory of his lips on hers, the way he could coax pleasure from her body, sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her.
Afrah closed her eyes, her body aching for the satisfaction she couldn’t have. The tension was unbearable, and she was left to wrestle with her desires, caught between the seductive lure of what she wanted and the reality of her situation.
----
At home the guest were still there.
Afrah tried to distract herself, but the tension in her body remained palpable. She tossed and turned in bed, her thoughts consumed by the lingering desire that wouldn’t let her be. Just then, her cousin Laiba knocked lightly on the door before entering.
“Hey, you okay?” Laiba ( one of the guest)asked, noticing Afrah’s restless demeanor. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Afrah forced a smile, trying to hide her frustration. “I’m fine. Just tired,” she replied, but the lie felt flimsy, weighed down by the heat pooling in her core.
Laiba stepped further into the room, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, don’t give me that. Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” She lean, her expression teasing and playful.
Afrah gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep her cool as Laiba's presence grated on her nerves. If she knew how horny I am, Afrah thought bitterly, feeling a wave of irritation rise. .
Laiba raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. She stepped closer, her tone teasing. “You know, it’s perfectly normal to have some pre-wedding jitters.”
Afrah swallowed hard, the tension in her body only heightening her frustration. “I’m fine about that,” she said, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. In truth, her thoughts were miles away from Sohail, caught up in a swirl of desire that made her restless, he was not who had stirred it.
“Oh, really? Because it looks like someone has been daydreaming a bit too much about her fiancé,” Laiba teased, crossing her arms with a playful grin. “What’s got you so distracted? Is it the wedding plans or something else?”
Afrah tried to laugh it off, but her voice was tinged with irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, the nervousness betraying her.
Laiba stepped closer, her playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “Listen, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. I get it. Planning a wedding can be stressful. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the moments leading up to it.”
Afrah took a deep breath, her heart racing as she faced the truth. While Sohail was her fiancé, her thoughts had been drawn elsewhere, and the fire igniting within her was not centered on him. “I just want everything to be perfect,” she said .But her mind didn't want think about wedding now ,her mind was at present was concentrated in between her legs.
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