12-12-2024, 12:27 AM
(This post was last modified: 15-12-2024, 12:30 AM by Betacucky. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
I remembered the first time Ananya had nervously held my hand on a quiet beach in Goa, the way she blushed when I kissed her forehead. The nights we spent lying awake, planning a future that felt boundless. These moments, so vivid and real, now clashed violently with the scene before me. The memory of her shy laugh when I first told her I loved her seemed like a distant echo, drowned out by the sound of her voice now—a sound I couldn’t reconcile with the woman I thought I knew.
Was this still the same Ananya I married? Or had something in her changed—broken? No, this wasn’t her, I tried to tell myself. It was him. It was all him. But the longer I watched, the harder it became to believe that.
After her latest orgasm, Anand spat on her asshole a couple of times. The spit trickled down her crack and around their connected privates lubricating the joint before falling onto my face. I wiped it off my face. Happy with the increased lubrication, Anand forcefully pulled Ananya back while powerfully thrusting forward and buried the last couple of inches into her. Ananya had an instant intense orgasm and started shivering all over. As Anand pushed completely in his balls hit my forehead.
"Well, bitch," Anand sneered, his voice saturated with arrogance as his eyes locked onto mine, conveying a challenge. "Is my cock better than your husband's?" The question sliced through the air, sharp and malicious, but Ananya remained silent, her eyes wide and filled with conflicting emotions.
Her lack of response seemed to ignite a spark of frustration in Anand. Without a moment's hesitation, he raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap to her buttocks. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot, echoing off the walls. I winced as if the blow had landed on my own flesh. Ananya's body jolted from the impact, and she let out a sharp, piercing cry, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" The sound was a raw expression of both pain and shock.
Anand’s face hardened, his features set in a mask of determination. "I asked you a question," he growled, his voice now edged with a steely command. "Is it better than your husband’s?"
Driven by the intensity of the moment or perhaps the overwhelming sensations forced upon her, Ananya finally broke. "Yes! It’s so much better than my husband’s! Fuck me harder, please!" Her voice, desperate and laden with a surrender that tore at my soul, filled the room. Anand paused, his cruel smile never wavering, and he leaned in close to Ananya, his voice dripping with venomous triumph. "Was that your first real orgasm of your life?" he taunted, each word a deliberate prod to deepen the humiliation.
"Yes," Ananya gasped, the word escaping her lips as a breathless affirmation, heavy with realization and regret.
Laughing softly, Anand's taunt cut deeper, "It's a pity your husband couldn't be the one to give it to you. But don't worry, there are plenty more where that came from." His words, like daggers, left no doubt about his intent to continue their torturous game.
As she spoke those devastating words, I gazed up at her, my vision blurring with a mixture of tears and disbelief. The woman above me was a stranger to me now, transformed under Anand's dominating presence. Her face was flushed with a carnal flush that painted her cheeks a deep rose, her eyes glazed over with pleasure that was hard for me to witness. Her body responded with a primal honesty, her back arching, pushing herself against him, seeking more of the intensity that Anand delivered with each forceful thrust.
Amid the intense rhythm of his forceful thrusts, Anand steadied his breath as he looked at me with a smirk. He briefly slowed his relentless pace and asked Ananya. "Has your husband ever fucked you like this?" he taunted, his breath hot against her skin, each word dripping with a challenge meant to diminish and provoke.
Ananya, caught in the throes of an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure, took a moment to gather her breath before answering. Her voice, shaky and laden with a reluctant confession, barely rose above a whisper, "No... never like this..." Her admission cut through the air, stark and heavy, leaving a cold weight in my chest. It was a declaration that not only acknowledged Anand’s physical dominance but also subtly underscored the vast gulf between the passion Anand could ignite in her and the disappointment I had been.
"Why not?" Anand's voice cut sharply through the tense atmosphere, his inquiry a barbed hook designed to unearth deep insecurities and provoke dark fears.
Ananya, her eyes closed with a tear rolling down her cheek, responded in a whisper filled with humiliation. "Because... his thing is not as big," she confessed, her words muddled with shame and bitter truth. "It wasn’t enough, not like this, not like yours," she added, her tone a mix of awe and sorrow.
Anand pressed further, his voice dripping with derision. "What isn’t as big?" he prodded, eager to twist the knife.
"His... his penis," Ananya replied, her voice breaking under the weight of her admission during the rhythmic thuds of their bodies.
"Do you think it’s small?" Anand goaded, pushing for every drop of degradation.
"Yes," she gasped out, each affirmation synchronized with the relentless motion. "It’s... it’s too small."
"Say it properly. Call it his lulli. Tell him, tell Ketan his lulli is too small to satisfy you," Anand commanded, his tone cruel and mocking.
Her voice a tremulous blend of forced clarity and despair, Ananya uttered the humiliating words, "Ketan, your lulli is too small to satisfy me."
Anand's laughter echoed around the room, rich with cruel satisfaction. "I thought as much," he smirked, reveling in the painful scene he orchestrated. "It must be tough, settling for something so... inadequate." His taunting was merciless, each word a deliberate strike meant to carve deep into the wounds of my inadequacy, leaving emotional scars that felt permanent and raw.
This new side of Ananya, unrestrained and vocal in her needs, was completely alien to me. She was no longer the reserved and gentle soul I had married; instead, she was being reshaped by Anand's unyielding dominance, molded into a form that responded to his control and power. The stark realization that she was not just submitting but responding to him shattered any remnants of hope I harbored. Her moans, now filled with a raw urgency, punctuated the air, marking the irrevocable change in our relationship and in her.
"Do you see, Ketan? Do you see how she is fucking me back?" Anand's voice was soft, almost a taunt whispered with a venomous sweetness. "Right here, right over you, and you... you can’t do a thing." Ananya’s body was arched over me, her hips matching the intensity of Anand’s strokes, her face pointed toward my erection, avoiding the shameful sight of my tiny lulli entirely.
"This is what she needed—what she wanted. And you? You could never give it to her." I watched helplessly as Ananya’s legs trembled, the way her hips moved to match Anand’s pace—everything told me that he was taking her to places I never could. And through it all, I lay there, powerless, trapped beneath the woman I loved as she was claimed by someone else.
Her orgasms were getting bigger and bigger. In our entire year of marriage, she had never had multiple orgasms. Thoughts about Anand’s sexual appetite and performance ran through my mind. I was Afraid that once my wife experienced the power and superiority of his cock, my tiny penis would need to be satisfied by my own hand ... never able to feel the walls of her pussy again ... never able to cum in its warm folds.
"Tell him, Ananya," Anand urged, his voice low but insistent, almost coaxing. "Let Ketan know exactly where he stands in your life now. Be honest with him." His tone carried a twisted sweetness that made my stomach churn.
Ananya hesitated, her body tense above me as if grappling with whether to obey. For a fleeting moment, I thought she might refuse, might fight back in her own way. But then, her trembling voice broke the silence.
"Ketan..." she began, her words faltering, "You're a bitch... and I have no respect for you."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to shatter me. Each word felt like a blade, cutting deeper than anything Anand had done. At these words Anand started fucking her with new passion and she started moaning “ngghhh nghhh nghhh…”
I stared up at her body, searching for something—regret, guilt, anything that might explain why she’d said it. Was she trying to survive this nightmare? Did she mean it? Or had I failed her so completely that this was how she truly felt? The questions spun in my mind, each one more painful than the last, as her words echoed endlessly in my head.
Anand's eyes glinted with a wild, unrestrained fervor. Without warning, he grasped my shoulder, his grip iron-tight, singalled me to get up and shoved me away from the foot of the bed. The force of his push sent me stumbling backwards, my balance lost in the turmoil of emotions and physical shock. As I struggled to regain my footing, Anand, with a sneer of contempt, ripped the mangalsutra from around his shaft and flung it at me. It landed at my feet, the black beads soaked in Anand’s precum and Ananya’s juices scattering with a sound that echoed like tiny, mocking laughter across the cold floor.
I dropped to my knees, the mangalsutra in my trembling hands, each wet bead now a symbol of shattered vows and broken promises. My eyes blurred with tears, the saltiness stinging my lips as I clutched the sacred necklace, my sobs muffled against the backdrop of the bed's increasing creaks.
Anand rose from the bed and picked up Ananya. His cock was still inside her pussy. He had picked her up with his hands under her knees and her hands were wrapped around his shoulder. I could never fuck Ananya like this. Their bodies were much more compatible. They both had wide well built frames whereas I was a skinny fat person. In this position, Ananya's pussy was perfectly lined up against Anand's crotch with his cock buried to the hilt. He walked over and came close to where I sat on the floor. Now Ananya was almost on top of me and as I looked up, I saw their union. Anand started lifting Ananya and dropping her onto his cock. Ananya's butt smacked against his rock hard stomach as his cock withdrew and buried into her pussy withdrawing matching grunts from Ananya ... aaah ... aaah ... aaah. His balls swung up and hit her ass. Every time he picked her up, I saw Ananya's pussy lips stretch a couple of inches outside as if trying to hold onto Anand's cock. This powerful standing up fucking continued for 10 minutes when I saw Ananya have another orgasm. She seemed to have squirted but because her pussy was stretched around Anand's cock her cum dribbled down his cock and balls and her ass cheeks.
Anand moved her to the bed and turned Ananya around, positioning her on all fours so that she was facing me. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he aligned himself at her entrance. The room was filled with the sound of his heavy, animalistic grunts and the steady, rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall.
Manavii went near them..She had the phone pointed at them.
Manavi held the camera steady, focusing on Ananya's flushed face. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice clear over the distinct thuds of the bed "Ananya Sharma," Ananya replied, her voice shaky with each thrust, the wet sounds loud in the background.
"Are you married?" Manavi continued, the camera zooming in to capture every detail of Ananya’s expression, glistening with sweat.
"Yes," Ananya gasped, her body trembling under the relentless pace set by Anand.
"Where is your pathetic husband?" Manavi taunted, swinging the camera towards Ketan, capturing his small, defeated figure. It zoomed in on his embarrassed face, then to his body, emphasizing his tiny lulli.
Ananya pointed weakly towards Ketan, her voice almost drowned out by the rhythmic ptch ptch ptch of Anand’s cock entering Ananya’s pussy. "Over there," she managed to say.
Manavi’s voice was mocking. "Does he satisfy you like this?" she pressed, turning the camera back to Ananya, whose face was a mask of pleasure and pain.
"No... he never has..." Ananya moaned, the words punctuated by the wet sounds of Anand's forceful thrusts.
"And what does that make you to Anand?" Manavi asked sharply, eager to capture every humiliating admission.
Ananya's eyes glazed over with resignation and a twisted thrill. "I'm his... his slut, I belong to him now" she confessed loudly, each syllable matching Anand's thrusts.
Will you let him fuck you again ? Asked Manavi “Look at your husband and tell him”
"Yessssss…He can fuck me anytime he wants..."
The camera lingered on Ananya’s face, Anand’s dark laughter filled the room, echoing a clear message of domination and victory.
Each forceful thrust pushed her into the bedding, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly that the fabric twisted beneath her clenched fists. She was almost screaming now, signaling not just acceptance but a deep desire of the fierce rhythm Anand set.
As Anand’s movements became even more intense, Ananya's responses grew louder, her voice rising in pitch and desperation. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, a stark contrast to the earlier sounds of pain. She was fully immersed in the torrent of sensations, each thrust sending waves of pleasure that seemed to wash away any remaining resistance. Her moans were now punctuated by whispers of encouragement, urging Anand on, her words spilling out in breathy, desperate pleas: “"Aaah ... Aaah ... Aaaah ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... please... don't ... stop ... I ... love ... this ….harder… please, don’t stop…”
This transformation was etched visibly on her face; her eyes, once wide with apprehension, now fluttered closed, lashes damp with tears of a different kind. Her mouth, slightly open, allowed for the escape of sighs and moans that rhythmically synced with Anand’s every move, painting a picture of a woman not just enduring but reveling in the depths of her physical experiences. The rawness of her vocal affirmations filled the air, enveloping the room in a thick aura of intense eroticism that was impossible to ignore.
Anand continued his incredible assault for 10 mins. I thought he would never cum, but then he stuck his thumb into Ananya's asshole and buried it all the way in.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh ... Anand ... m cuuuuummmmmiiing m... cumming ... m……cumming" screamed Ananya.
As Anand's movements surged towards a climax, his pace became relentless, each thrust more forceful than the last. He was constantly spanking Ananya’s ass. His breathing grew heavy and uneven, his face contorted with the strain and pleasure of his exertions.Anand now started fucking Ananya with long powerful strokes. Withdrawing his cock fully before plunging it back his hard cock. Ananya was moaning softer now having just orgasmed herself. Anand’s balls started slapping against Ananya's clit on every stroke.
Suddenly, Anand's body shuddered violently, a deep growl emanating from his throat as he reached his climax. I saw his balls squeeze and pump shot after shot of cum into my wife. Ananya's pussy was also twitching in tune with his cock. It looked like one continuous pulse that started from Anand's balls, travelling up his cock pushing his potent seed along and Ananya's pussy matched that pulse all along his shaft perfectly in tune to carry his load deep inside herself. I watched in awe as this mesmerizing throbbing went on for a full two minutes before stopping slowly. Anand withdrew his thumb, grabbed his cock and started pulling out. The smell of cum hit my nostrils and my penis twitched.
"Take a good look, Ketan," Anand said in a calm voice, almost like he was talking about something ordinary. "This is your wife’s pussy, well fucked, like you’ve never seen before." His cold, detached way of speaking made the moment feel even worse.
I hesitantly looked at Ananya. Her body was exposed in a way that was shockingly intimate. Her pussy was swollen and red, visibly stretched and quivering from Anand's rough fucking. Drops of his semen slowly leaked out of her, each one a clear sign of his control and the deep betrayal of our marriage vows. The scene was brutally honest, showing a complete disregard for the love and respect we once shared.
Anand's next words froze me in place. "I think it’s time for you to leave us," he said politely, but his words cut deep, like he was dismissing someone who had overstayed their welcome. His casual cruelty made my legs shake, but I couldn’t move.
My eyes turned to Ananya, her body slightly trembling from what had just happened. Her eyes were closed, maybe trying to block out the reality or find some peace. Anand ran his hand down on her ass, as if he owned her. This simple touch was a harsh reminder that he was in control. It stirred a deep need in me to pull her away from him, to protect her from any more harm. But this feeling was mixed with the harsh truth that I had already failed her. The sight before me wasn't just about physical control; it was a total takeover of the life we had built together, leaving me feeling empty and defeated.
As Anand stepped away, Ananya's trembling form shifted slowly on the bed. She rolled over with effort. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath a labored gasp as she sought to regain some semblance of composure. Lying back, her face turned upwards, the damp strands of her hair clung to her forehead, framing her flushed cheeks and the closed eyelids that shielded her from the harsh reality of the moment.
"Still here, Ketan?" Manavi's voice sliced through the heavy air, sharp yet soft, carrying a sinister undertone that made my heart race. She approached me slowly, each step measured and deliberate, her lips curling into a smirk that knew too much. "You don’t want to make things harder for yourself, do you?"
Her words hung heavily between us, each syllable dripping with a venomous blend of mock concern and thinly veiled threat. She reached out, her fingers brushing against my arm in a touch that mingled intimacy with intimidation. "You’ve done enough for tonight," she whispered, her voice a cruel mimicry of compassion.
Reluctantly, my gaze drifted back to Ananya. She lay sprawled on the bed, her body still heaving with the aftershocks of what had transpired. Her skin glistened with sweat, the tangled sheets around her a testament to the intensity of the fucking that she received. As her eyes met mine shimmering with a complex mix of emotions. In them, I saw a plea for forgiveness, her usual sparkle dimmed by the night’s events. Yet, there was also a troubling glint of surrender, the resignation of a woman torn between her commitments and newfound desires. Most unsettling was the faint trace of satisfaction etched across her features, a subtle acknowledgment of the profound and conflicting pleasures she had experienced. The sight of her, so utterly transformed and yet unmistakably content in her ruin, was both haunting and deeply stirring.
"Time to go," Manavi urged, her grip tightening ever so slightly on my arm. There was a finality in her voice that made it clear I had no choice. My legs finally moved, wooden and unsteady, as she led me toward the door.
The soft click of the door shutting behind me felt like the final nail in the coffin. The muffled sounds from the other side—Anand’s low voice, Ananya’s quiet murmurs—only deepened the ache in my chest. What were they talking about now. I wondered. Were they making fun of me ? I slumped against the wall outside, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Manavi lingered, leaning casually against the wall beside me, her smirk never wavering. "Don’t worry... I’ll make sure you don’t feel left out."
Was this still the same Ananya I married? Or had something in her changed—broken? No, this wasn’t her, I tried to tell myself. It was him. It was all him. But the longer I watched, the harder it became to believe that.
After her latest orgasm, Anand spat on her asshole a couple of times. The spit trickled down her crack and around their connected privates lubricating the joint before falling onto my face. I wiped it off my face. Happy with the increased lubrication, Anand forcefully pulled Ananya back while powerfully thrusting forward and buried the last couple of inches into her. Ananya had an instant intense orgasm and started shivering all over. As Anand pushed completely in his balls hit my forehead.
"Well, bitch," Anand sneered, his voice saturated with arrogance as his eyes locked onto mine, conveying a challenge. "Is my cock better than your husband's?" The question sliced through the air, sharp and malicious, but Ananya remained silent, her eyes wide and filled with conflicting emotions.
Her lack of response seemed to ignite a spark of frustration in Anand. Without a moment's hesitation, he raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap to her buttocks. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot, echoing off the walls. I winced as if the blow had landed on my own flesh. Ananya's body jolted from the impact, and she let out a sharp, piercing cry, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" The sound was a raw expression of both pain and shock.
Anand’s face hardened, his features set in a mask of determination. "I asked you a question," he growled, his voice now edged with a steely command. "Is it better than your husband’s?"
Driven by the intensity of the moment or perhaps the overwhelming sensations forced upon her, Ananya finally broke. "Yes! It’s so much better than my husband’s! Fuck me harder, please!" Her voice, desperate and laden with a surrender that tore at my soul, filled the room. Anand paused, his cruel smile never wavering, and he leaned in close to Ananya, his voice dripping with venomous triumph. "Was that your first real orgasm of your life?" he taunted, each word a deliberate prod to deepen the humiliation.
"Yes," Ananya gasped, the word escaping her lips as a breathless affirmation, heavy with realization and regret.
Laughing softly, Anand's taunt cut deeper, "It's a pity your husband couldn't be the one to give it to you. But don't worry, there are plenty more where that came from." His words, like daggers, left no doubt about his intent to continue their torturous game.
As she spoke those devastating words, I gazed up at her, my vision blurring with a mixture of tears and disbelief. The woman above me was a stranger to me now, transformed under Anand's dominating presence. Her face was flushed with a carnal flush that painted her cheeks a deep rose, her eyes glazed over with pleasure that was hard for me to witness. Her body responded with a primal honesty, her back arching, pushing herself against him, seeking more of the intensity that Anand delivered with each forceful thrust.
Amid the intense rhythm of his forceful thrusts, Anand steadied his breath as he looked at me with a smirk. He briefly slowed his relentless pace and asked Ananya. "Has your husband ever fucked you like this?" he taunted, his breath hot against her skin, each word dripping with a challenge meant to diminish and provoke.
Ananya, caught in the throes of an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure, took a moment to gather her breath before answering. Her voice, shaky and laden with a reluctant confession, barely rose above a whisper, "No... never like this..." Her admission cut through the air, stark and heavy, leaving a cold weight in my chest. It was a declaration that not only acknowledged Anand’s physical dominance but also subtly underscored the vast gulf between the passion Anand could ignite in her and the disappointment I had been.
"Why not?" Anand's voice cut sharply through the tense atmosphere, his inquiry a barbed hook designed to unearth deep insecurities and provoke dark fears.
Ananya, her eyes closed with a tear rolling down her cheek, responded in a whisper filled with humiliation. "Because... his thing is not as big," she confessed, her words muddled with shame and bitter truth. "It wasn’t enough, not like this, not like yours," she added, her tone a mix of awe and sorrow.
Anand pressed further, his voice dripping with derision. "What isn’t as big?" he prodded, eager to twist the knife.
"His... his penis," Ananya replied, her voice breaking under the weight of her admission during the rhythmic thuds of their bodies.
"Do you think it’s small?" Anand goaded, pushing for every drop of degradation.
"Yes," she gasped out, each affirmation synchronized with the relentless motion. "It’s... it’s too small."
"Say it properly. Call it his lulli. Tell him, tell Ketan his lulli is too small to satisfy you," Anand commanded, his tone cruel and mocking.
Her voice a tremulous blend of forced clarity and despair, Ananya uttered the humiliating words, "Ketan, your lulli is too small to satisfy me."
Anand's laughter echoed around the room, rich with cruel satisfaction. "I thought as much," he smirked, reveling in the painful scene he orchestrated. "It must be tough, settling for something so... inadequate." His taunting was merciless, each word a deliberate strike meant to carve deep into the wounds of my inadequacy, leaving emotional scars that felt permanent and raw.
This new side of Ananya, unrestrained and vocal in her needs, was completely alien to me. She was no longer the reserved and gentle soul I had married; instead, she was being reshaped by Anand's unyielding dominance, molded into a form that responded to his control and power. The stark realization that she was not just submitting but responding to him shattered any remnants of hope I harbored. Her moans, now filled with a raw urgency, punctuated the air, marking the irrevocable change in our relationship and in her.
"Do you see, Ketan? Do you see how she is fucking me back?" Anand's voice was soft, almost a taunt whispered with a venomous sweetness. "Right here, right over you, and you... you can’t do a thing." Ananya’s body was arched over me, her hips matching the intensity of Anand’s strokes, her face pointed toward my erection, avoiding the shameful sight of my tiny lulli entirely.
"This is what she needed—what she wanted. And you? You could never give it to her." I watched helplessly as Ananya’s legs trembled, the way her hips moved to match Anand’s pace—everything told me that he was taking her to places I never could. And through it all, I lay there, powerless, trapped beneath the woman I loved as she was claimed by someone else.
Her orgasms were getting bigger and bigger. In our entire year of marriage, she had never had multiple orgasms. Thoughts about Anand’s sexual appetite and performance ran through my mind. I was Afraid that once my wife experienced the power and superiority of his cock, my tiny penis would need to be satisfied by my own hand ... never able to feel the walls of her pussy again ... never able to cum in its warm folds.
"Tell him, Ananya," Anand urged, his voice low but insistent, almost coaxing. "Let Ketan know exactly where he stands in your life now. Be honest with him." His tone carried a twisted sweetness that made my stomach churn.
Ananya hesitated, her body tense above me as if grappling with whether to obey. For a fleeting moment, I thought she might refuse, might fight back in her own way. But then, her trembling voice broke the silence.
"Ketan..." she began, her words faltering, "You're a bitch... and I have no respect for you."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to shatter me. Each word felt like a blade, cutting deeper than anything Anand had done. At these words Anand started fucking her with new passion and she started moaning “ngghhh nghhh nghhh…”
I stared up at her body, searching for something—regret, guilt, anything that might explain why she’d said it. Was she trying to survive this nightmare? Did she mean it? Or had I failed her so completely that this was how she truly felt? The questions spun in my mind, each one more painful than the last, as her words echoed endlessly in my head.
Anand's eyes glinted with a wild, unrestrained fervor. Without warning, he grasped my shoulder, his grip iron-tight, singalled me to get up and shoved me away from the foot of the bed. The force of his push sent me stumbling backwards, my balance lost in the turmoil of emotions and physical shock. As I struggled to regain my footing, Anand, with a sneer of contempt, ripped the mangalsutra from around his shaft and flung it at me. It landed at my feet, the black beads soaked in Anand’s precum and Ananya’s juices scattering with a sound that echoed like tiny, mocking laughter across the cold floor.
I dropped to my knees, the mangalsutra in my trembling hands, each wet bead now a symbol of shattered vows and broken promises. My eyes blurred with tears, the saltiness stinging my lips as I clutched the sacred necklace, my sobs muffled against the backdrop of the bed's increasing creaks.
Anand rose from the bed and picked up Ananya. His cock was still inside her pussy. He had picked her up with his hands under her knees and her hands were wrapped around his shoulder. I could never fuck Ananya like this. Their bodies were much more compatible. They both had wide well built frames whereas I was a skinny fat person. In this position, Ananya's pussy was perfectly lined up against Anand's crotch with his cock buried to the hilt. He walked over and came close to where I sat on the floor. Now Ananya was almost on top of me and as I looked up, I saw their union. Anand started lifting Ananya and dropping her onto his cock. Ananya's butt smacked against his rock hard stomach as his cock withdrew and buried into her pussy withdrawing matching grunts from Ananya ... aaah ... aaah ... aaah. His balls swung up and hit her ass. Every time he picked her up, I saw Ananya's pussy lips stretch a couple of inches outside as if trying to hold onto Anand's cock. This powerful standing up fucking continued for 10 minutes when I saw Ananya have another orgasm. She seemed to have squirted but because her pussy was stretched around Anand's cock her cum dribbled down his cock and balls and her ass cheeks.
Anand moved her to the bed and turned Ananya around, positioning her on all fours so that she was facing me. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he aligned himself at her entrance. The room was filled with the sound of his heavy, animalistic grunts and the steady, rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall.
Manavii went near them..She had the phone pointed at them.
Manavi held the camera steady, focusing on Ananya's flushed face. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice clear over the distinct thuds of the bed "Ananya Sharma," Ananya replied, her voice shaky with each thrust, the wet sounds loud in the background.
"Are you married?" Manavi continued, the camera zooming in to capture every detail of Ananya’s expression, glistening with sweat.
"Yes," Ananya gasped, her body trembling under the relentless pace set by Anand.
"Where is your pathetic husband?" Manavi taunted, swinging the camera towards Ketan, capturing his small, defeated figure. It zoomed in on his embarrassed face, then to his body, emphasizing his tiny lulli.
Ananya pointed weakly towards Ketan, her voice almost drowned out by the rhythmic ptch ptch ptch of Anand’s cock entering Ananya’s pussy. "Over there," she managed to say.
Manavi’s voice was mocking. "Does he satisfy you like this?" she pressed, turning the camera back to Ananya, whose face was a mask of pleasure and pain.
"No... he never has..." Ananya moaned, the words punctuated by the wet sounds of Anand's forceful thrusts.
"And what does that make you to Anand?" Manavi asked sharply, eager to capture every humiliating admission.
Ananya's eyes glazed over with resignation and a twisted thrill. "I'm his... his slut, I belong to him now" she confessed loudly, each syllable matching Anand's thrusts.
Will you let him fuck you again ? Asked Manavi “Look at your husband and tell him”
"Yessssss…He can fuck me anytime he wants..."
The camera lingered on Ananya’s face, Anand’s dark laughter filled the room, echoing a clear message of domination and victory.
Each forceful thrust pushed her into the bedding, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly that the fabric twisted beneath her clenched fists. She was almost screaming now, signaling not just acceptance but a deep desire of the fierce rhythm Anand set.
As Anand’s movements became even more intense, Ananya's responses grew louder, her voice rising in pitch and desperation. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, a stark contrast to the earlier sounds of pain. She was fully immersed in the torrent of sensations, each thrust sending waves of pleasure that seemed to wash away any remaining resistance. Her moans were now punctuated by whispers of encouragement, urging Anand on, her words spilling out in breathy, desperate pleas: “"Aaah ... Aaah ... Aaaah ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... please... don't ... stop ... I ... love ... this ….harder… please, don’t stop…”
This transformation was etched visibly on her face; her eyes, once wide with apprehension, now fluttered closed, lashes damp with tears of a different kind. Her mouth, slightly open, allowed for the escape of sighs and moans that rhythmically synced with Anand’s every move, painting a picture of a woman not just enduring but reveling in the depths of her physical experiences. The rawness of her vocal affirmations filled the air, enveloping the room in a thick aura of intense eroticism that was impossible to ignore.
Anand continued his incredible assault for 10 mins. I thought he would never cum, but then he stuck his thumb into Ananya's asshole and buried it all the way in.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh ... Anand ... m cuuuuummmmmiiing m... cumming ... m……cumming" screamed Ananya.
As Anand's movements surged towards a climax, his pace became relentless, each thrust more forceful than the last. He was constantly spanking Ananya’s ass. His breathing grew heavy and uneven, his face contorted with the strain and pleasure of his exertions.Anand now started fucking Ananya with long powerful strokes. Withdrawing his cock fully before plunging it back his hard cock. Ananya was moaning softer now having just orgasmed herself. Anand’s balls started slapping against Ananya's clit on every stroke.
Suddenly, Anand's body shuddered violently, a deep growl emanating from his throat as he reached his climax. I saw his balls squeeze and pump shot after shot of cum into my wife. Ananya's pussy was also twitching in tune with his cock. It looked like one continuous pulse that started from Anand's balls, travelling up his cock pushing his potent seed along and Ananya's pussy matched that pulse all along his shaft perfectly in tune to carry his load deep inside herself. I watched in awe as this mesmerizing throbbing went on for a full two minutes before stopping slowly. Anand withdrew his thumb, grabbed his cock and started pulling out. The smell of cum hit my nostrils and my penis twitched.
"Take a good look, Ketan," Anand said in a calm voice, almost like he was talking about something ordinary. "This is your wife’s pussy, well fucked, like you’ve never seen before." His cold, detached way of speaking made the moment feel even worse.
I hesitantly looked at Ananya. Her body was exposed in a way that was shockingly intimate. Her pussy was swollen and red, visibly stretched and quivering from Anand's rough fucking. Drops of his semen slowly leaked out of her, each one a clear sign of his control and the deep betrayal of our marriage vows. The scene was brutally honest, showing a complete disregard for the love and respect we once shared.
Anand's next words froze me in place. "I think it’s time for you to leave us," he said politely, but his words cut deep, like he was dismissing someone who had overstayed their welcome. His casual cruelty made my legs shake, but I couldn’t move.
My eyes turned to Ananya, her body slightly trembling from what had just happened. Her eyes were closed, maybe trying to block out the reality or find some peace. Anand ran his hand down on her ass, as if he owned her. This simple touch was a harsh reminder that he was in control. It stirred a deep need in me to pull her away from him, to protect her from any more harm. But this feeling was mixed with the harsh truth that I had already failed her. The sight before me wasn't just about physical control; it was a total takeover of the life we had built together, leaving me feeling empty and defeated.
As Anand stepped away, Ananya's trembling form shifted slowly on the bed. She rolled over with effort. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath a labored gasp as she sought to regain some semblance of composure. Lying back, her face turned upwards, the damp strands of her hair clung to her forehead, framing her flushed cheeks and the closed eyelids that shielded her from the harsh reality of the moment.
"Still here, Ketan?" Manavi's voice sliced through the heavy air, sharp yet soft, carrying a sinister undertone that made my heart race. She approached me slowly, each step measured and deliberate, her lips curling into a smirk that knew too much. "You don’t want to make things harder for yourself, do you?"
Her words hung heavily between us, each syllable dripping with a venomous blend of mock concern and thinly veiled threat. She reached out, her fingers brushing against my arm in a touch that mingled intimacy with intimidation. "You’ve done enough for tonight," she whispered, her voice a cruel mimicry of compassion.
Reluctantly, my gaze drifted back to Ananya. She lay sprawled on the bed, her body still heaving with the aftershocks of what had transpired. Her skin glistened with sweat, the tangled sheets around her a testament to the intensity of the fucking that she received. As her eyes met mine shimmering with a complex mix of emotions. In them, I saw a plea for forgiveness, her usual sparkle dimmed by the night’s events. Yet, there was also a troubling glint of surrender, the resignation of a woman torn between her commitments and newfound desires. Most unsettling was the faint trace of satisfaction etched across her features, a subtle acknowledgment of the profound and conflicting pleasures she had experienced. The sight of her, so utterly transformed and yet unmistakably content in her ruin, was both haunting and deeply stirring.
"Time to go," Manavi urged, her grip tightening ever so slightly on my arm. There was a finality in her voice that made it clear I had no choice. My legs finally moved, wooden and unsteady, as she led me toward the door.
The soft click of the door shutting behind me felt like the final nail in the coffin. The muffled sounds from the other side—Anand’s low voice, Ananya’s quiet murmurs—only deepened the ache in my chest. What were they talking about now. I wondered. Were they making fun of me ? I slumped against the wall outside, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Manavi lingered, leaning casually against the wall beside me, her smirk never wavering. "Don’t worry... I’ll make sure you don’t feel left out."
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