Misc. Erotica Art by salman & muskan( completed season-1) with pics

[Naruto411]

Raju ejaculated in muskan from behind


Salman observed the aftermath, noticing the visible trail left on Muskan’s thighs from Raj. It was a raw and intimate moment, and yet an idea began to form in his mind. He stepped back, considering how to push the boundaries of their art further.

“This could be an opportunity to capture something darker,” Salman suggested thoughtfully, as he met Raj’s eyes. “We’ve shown pleasure, desire, connection. But what about the other side? The side of a woman who faces abuse and degradation, even after giving everything?”

Raj’s expression immediately shifted into one of discomfort. “No, Salman. That’s too much. We’ve already crossed so many lines—I can’t degrade her like that,” he said, his voice firm.

Muskan, sensing the tension, remained neutral for the moment. Her mind was racing with thoughts, trying to reconcile her role as a muse with the real emotions this kind of scene might evoke. She looked between the two men, contemplating Salman’s suggestion.

“It’s just art, Raj,” Muskan said softly, her voice calm but thoughtful. “I understand the hesitation, but we’ve done so much already. This would be another layer—a representation of what so many women go through.”

Raj shook his head, his brows furrowing. “Muskan, this isn’t just about art. Degrading you, even for the sake of a canvas—what does that say? It feels wrong.”

Salman interjected gently, sensing the struggle in both of them. “I understand, Raj. But remember, this isn’t about us personally. This is about capturing a truth—a painful truth—that millions of women experience. We’re not glorifying it. We’re exposing it.”

Raj hesitated, still unsure. “And you’re okay with this?” he asked, turning to Muskan, searching her face for any sign of doubt.

Muskan exhaled slowly, her eyes thoughtful as she met his gaze. “I’m not saying it will be easy. But if we do this right, it won’t be about me. It’ll be about something much bigger than us—about women who endure this every day, silently.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, discussing the implications. Muskan remained composed, but Raj’s reluctance was clear. He didn’t want to hurt her, even if it was an act for art.

Salman watched them carefully, understanding that they needed time to come to terms with the concept. “This piece would be different,” he said, his voice measured. “It wouldn’t be about the pleasure or desire we’ve explored before. This would capture the face of a woman facing abuse and humiliation, after everything she’s sacrificed.”

Raj’s jaw clenched as he processed Salman’s words. “And you want me to degrade her with words? Grope her? Maybe even penetrate her?” His voice was tight, filled with concern.

Salman nodded slowly. “Yes. But the focus will be on her face—on the emotions that come through. Fear, sadness, anger… maybe even defiance. The act itself is secondary to what it represents.”

Muskan placed a hand on Raj’s arm, her touch gentle but reassuring. “Raj, I know this is difficult. But I trust you. I know you wouldn’t truly hurt me. We can explore this in a way that makes a statement—about women’s experiences, about society.”

Raj sighed heavily, still conflicted. “I don’t know, Muskan. I don’t want to cross that line with you.”

Muskan leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. “I won’t take it personally, Raj. I know who you are, and I know why we’re doing this. It’s not about us. It’s about something larger—something that needs to be seen.”

Salman remained quiet, allowing the two to work through the emotions of the situation. He knew that this canvas, if done right, could be one of the most powerful pieces in their collection. But it would require trust and understanding on all sides.

After what felt like an eternity, Raj finally nodded, though his heart was still heavy. “Alright,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and determination. “But if at any point this feels wrong, we stop. Agreed?”

Muskan smiled softly, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Agreed. We’ll stop if it’s too much. But I believe in this. I believe we can show something real.”

Salman exhaled in relief, grateful for Raj’s agreement. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I know this isn’t easy. But this will be a piece that speaks to so many—something raw and honest.”

They began to prepare for the next canvas, the atmosphere in the room charged with anticipation and tension. This time, it wasn’t about desire or intimacy—it was about revealing the darker side of the human experience, the part of women’s lives that often goes unseen.