4 hours ago
Update 18:
Back in the bathroom, Tarannum’s eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction as she watched Tanzeer’s throat convulse with each gulp of her piss. The sound of her urine hitting the back of Tanzeer’s throat was like a symphony to her ears. With a sigh of pleasure, she finished, the last drops spattering onto Tanzeer’s chin and neck. The sight was obscene, and yet Tarannum couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of pride.
Tanzeer sat back on her haunches, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement. She licked her lips, savoring the salty taste of Tarannum's urine, as the latter stood with one hand braced against the wall, and a sandal-clad foot propped up on the toilet seat. Tarannum's stream had been like a fountain of forbidden pleasure, and Tanzeer had drunk greedily from it.
Now, as the final drops trickled down Tarannum's thigh, she could feel the warmth of her piss collecting between her sandal and the sole of her foot. It was a sensation that sent a shiver up her spine, a reminder of the power dynamic at play here. She stepped away from the toilet, her sandal leaving a wet patch on the tiles, and gestured for Tanzeer to stand. "Now, it’s my turn," she said, her voice low and filled with desire.
Tanzeer, her mouth still wet with the taste of piss, couldn’t help but smile as she rose to her feet. She leaned back against the sink, one sandal-clad foot resting on the porcelain edge of the toilet seat. The click-clack of her heels against the tiles was a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. Tarannum, with the grace of a cat, sank to her haunches before her, the leather of her sandals digging into the soft flesh of her calves.
Tanzeer felt a thrill of excitement as Tarannum’s eager mouth found its way to her pussy, the scent of urine and sex thick in the air. Tarannum’s tongue was like a branding iron, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it traced the contours of her folds. Tanzeer’s own bladder was full, the pressure building, and she knew that soon she would have to give in to the sweet release of pissing in her friend’s mouth.
The moment came with an unspoken signal, a shift in the air that sent a shiver down Tanzeer’s spine. She relaxed her muscles, and a trickle of urine began to flow, splattering against Tarannum’s cheek before she managed to adjust herself. Tarannum's eyes snapped open, a wild look of hunger in them, and she repositioned herself so that the warm stream flowed directly into her mouth. Tanzeer watched as Tarannum’s lips parted, welcoming the golden nectar with a greedy thirst that seemed almost inhuman.
The sound of urine hitting Tarannum’s eager tongue filled the bathroom, a wet symphony of depravity that seemed to echo the throbbing pulse of Tanzeer’s own desire. She leaned back against the sink, her hands braced against the cold tiles, her eyes rolling back in her head as Tarannum drank from her.
The taste was heavenly, a sweet and salty concoction that danced on Tarannum’s taste buds like a fine wine. It was not the first time she had indulged in this forbidden delight, but it never failed to send a thrill through her body. The warmth of the pee contrasted with the coolness of the bathroom tiles, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful. The slight metallic tang was a reminder of the intimate connection she shared with her friend, a bond forged in the fires of their shared perversions.
Tanzeer’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned softly, the sound echoing off the walls like a siren’s call. Her grip on the sink tightened as Tarannum’s tongue danced around her clit, teasing and taunting the sensitive flesh. The urine flowed in a steady stream, and Tarannum’s eyes remained locked on her friend’s face, watching every twitch and tremor.
"Tell me kuttiya raand," Tanzeer mumbled, her voice thick with lust and spite. "Do you like the taste of my holy water… isn’t it more pak than the aab-e-zamzam… you fucking kuttiya ki padaish?" She giggled, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles as she watched Tarannum eagerly drink her piss.
Tarannum's eyes snapped up, a wicked glint of excitement and lust in them. The insult rolled off her like water on a duck's back, only serving to fuel her arousal. With a smack that reverberated through the small space, she slapped Tanzeer's thighs, causing her to wobble precariously on her heels. The stream of pee faltered, a stream escaping Tanzeer's pussy to run down her thighs and legs, pooling around and drenching the expensive sandals and her perfectly manicured feet in a warm golden puddle.
With the grace of a serpent, Tarannum leaned in, her mouth opening wide. She caught the last of Tanzeer's piss in a dramatic fashion, the liquid glistening in the light as it arced through the air. She held it in her mouth for a moment, her cheeks bulging as she gargled the urine like it was the finest mouthwash. The sight was both obscene and mesmerizing, a testament to the depths of their depravity.
Then, with a sudden, surprising move, Tarannum bent lower, her knees cracking on the cold tiles. She brought her face down to Tanzeer's sandal-covered foot, which was still planted firmly on the floor. The leather was stained wet, the scent of piss and leather mingling in the air. With a slow, deliberate motion, she placed her mouth over Tanzeer’s toes, which were sticking out of the leather straps of her sandal. A small pool of urine had formed there, trapped by the curve of the shoe and the arch of her friend's foot. Tarannum slurped it up greedily, the sound echoing through the bathroom.
The taste was a familiar one to her—a heady mix of the salty tang of piss and the rich, earthy flavor of the leather. It was a decadent cocktail that sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated lust through her body. She lapped up every last drop, her tongue sliding along the grooves of the sandal, savoring the way the leather had absorbed the flavor of their depravity.
Tanzeer's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as Tarannum’s mouth moved to her other foot which was now propped up on the porcelain edge of the commode. The warm wetness of her own urine coated the leather of her sandal, creating a slick surface for Tarannum to explore with her eager tongue. The sound of Tarannum's tongue slurping and lapping at the trapped liquid was obscene, yet it resonated with an undeniable eroticism that sent a jolt of electricity straight to Tanzeer's core.
Finally, Tarannum pulled away, her mouth and chin shiny with the residue of Tanzeer's piss. She looked up at her friend, her eyes gleaming with a wicked delight and devilish smile playing on her lips. "How could I let even a single drop of your sacred 'peshaab-e-Tanzeer' go to waste?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "It's more muqaddas than the aab-e-zamzam!" she quipped, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
Tanzeer giggled, the sound high-pitched and giddy with excitement. She felt a strange mix of pride and pleasure at the way Tarannum revered her urine, the way she treated it as if it were a sacred offering. "You're such a good pupil," she cooed, stroking Tarannum's cheek with a hand that was still sticky with her own fluids. "But now it's your turn to give."
Tarannum's eyes gleamed with eagerness as she nodded, her mouth still slick with the remnants of Tanzeer's pee. She rose to her feet, her own sandals clicking against the tiles as she moved to stand before her friend. With a flick of her wrist, she undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing the heavy swell of her breasts, the darkened nipples standing at attention. Tanzeer's eyes followed the movement, her own desire flaring like a match in the dark.
Tanzeer watched as Tarannum bent down again to her foot on the floor and began to lick the pee that had dribbled on the floor around her sandal. The wet slurping and sucking sound filled the air, a symphony of perversion that sent shivers down Tanzeer's spine. Tarannum's tongue was insatiable, tracing the delicate patterns of the tile with each swipe, leaving a clean path in its wake.
When she was satisfied that not a single drop remained, Tarannum straightened up, her face flushed with a mix of exertion and excitement. Tanzeer reached out a hand to help her balance. As Tarannum rose, their eyes met, and without a word, their mouths crashed together in a passionate kiss that seemed to hold the very essence of their depraved ritual.
Their bodies pressed together, the heat of their skin a stark contrast to the coolness of the bathroom. Their legs, clad in towering sandals, entwined, the leather straps digging into their flesh as they wrapped themselves around each other. The kiss grew deeper, tongues dueling and exploring, sharing the flavor of their shared depravity. The taste of urine was faint but unmistakable, a reminder of the unspeakable act they had just engaged in.
When they finally broke apart, both women were panting, their chests heaving with excitement. They grabbed towels from the rack, wiping their faces and bodies clean of any residue. Their make-up remained unblemished, a testament to their practiced air of sophistication. They touched up their lipstick and hair, the motions as natural as breathing, despite the obscene scene they had just shared.
Walking back to the bedroom, their high heels clicking in unison on the marble floor, they were a vision of depravity and beauty. Their naked forms were bathed in the soft glow of the pendant lights hanging from the ceiling, casting shadows that danced around them like specters of lust. They moved with the confidence of those who knew no shame, their sandals the only things that remained on their feet.
Tanzeer, whose social persona was that of a pious, burqa-clad woman, revealed a side to herself that was the antithesis of the chaste image she presented to the outside world. The stark contrast was as jarring as it was mesmerizing. Behind the layers of fabric that shrouded her from the prying eyes of society, she was a creature of unbridled desire, her soul a cauldron of simmering lust. Her burqa was a clever ruse, a chameleon's skin that allowed her to blend into the respectable fabric of Indore's high society, while in private, she discarded it like a serpent shedding its scales.
In the bedroom, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of sex and the heady musk of desire. The sight that greeted Tarannum and Tanzeer was like a page torn from a pornographic magazine, a tableau of carnality that made their own twisted games seem almost tame. Iqra lay on her back, her legs splayed wide, the soft folds of her pussy glistening with arousal. Nazia was poised above her with an expression of rapture, her own pussy descending like a velvet-covered hammer onto Iqra’s eager mouth and her face buried down in Iqra’s crotch, her tongue no doubt dancing a sinful ballet on the sensitive flesh beneath. The two of them were locked in a 69 embrace that was as intimate as it was obscene.
Ajay, his eyes glazed over with a mix of fear and arousal, was kneeling behind Nazia, his cock plunging into her wetness with the ferocity that belied his innocence, his youthful vigor driving him deeper with each thrust. Nazia's body was a canvas of decadence, her knees bent and digging into plush mattress on either sides of Iqra's shoulders, the dorsal parts of her feet pressed firmly into the bed with the soles of her sandals upturned and the long and slim heels sticking out like a lewd declaration of their shared debauchery. Nazia’s globular ass cheeks jiggled with each impact, and with her face buried down between Iqra’s thighs, she moaned in ecstasy as Ajay's cock claimed her with the same intensity that had claimed his soul.
Iqra's tongue was a blur of motion, flicking and lapping at Nazia's glistening pussy and Ajay's thrusting cock. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she tasted the potent blend of Nazia's juices and the salty musk of Ajay's excitement. Each stroke of his cock against her tongue sent a shiver of pleasure through her body, her own arousal building like a storm waiting to break. She felt the heat of their joined bodies, the softness of Nazia's folds against her cheek, and the firmness of Ajay's shaft as it glided in and out of her friend's sex.
Tarannum and Tanzeer, their eyes glued to the erotic tableau before them, exchanged knowing smirks as they lit up their 'Gold Flake Kings' cigarettes. The flares of the lighters briefly illuminated their faces, painting them in a stark, predatory light. The smoke curled around them like a serpent, becoming one with the heavy, musky air of the brightly lit bedroom. They didn't speak, the only sound being the occasional crackle of the ciggies as they took deep, lustful drags. Their sandals clacked against the floor as they moved to the drawer containing Tarannum’s collection of sex toys.
Selecting two realistic vibrator dildos, they took their places on the plush sofa chairs opposite the bed.
Tarannum sat back, her cigarette in one hand, the other holding the vibrator to her clit. She took a long drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing red as the smoke curled around her face. Her eyes never left the scene before her, transfixed by the passionate embrace of her friends and the young boy she had claimed as their plaything. The vibrator hummed to life in her hand, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. Tanzeer mirrored her, her cigarette hanging from her lips as she switched on the vibrator with a quiet buzz.
Back in the bathroom, Tarannum’s eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction as she watched Tanzeer’s throat convulse with each gulp of her piss. The sound of her urine hitting the back of Tanzeer’s throat was like a symphony to her ears. With a sigh of pleasure, she finished, the last drops spattering onto Tanzeer’s chin and neck. The sight was obscene, and yet Tarannum couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of pride.
Tanzeer sat back on her haunches, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement. She licked her lips, savoring the salty taste of Tarannum's urine, as the latter stood with one hand braced against the wall, and a sandal-clad foot propped up on the toilet seat. Tarannum's stream had been like a fountain of forbidden pleasure, and Tanzeer had drunk greedily from it.
Now, as the final drops trickled down Tarannum's thigh, she could feel the warmth of her piss collecting between her sandal and the sole of her foot. It was a sensation that sent a shiver up her spine, a reminder of the power dynamic at play here. She stepped away from the toilet, her sandal leaving a wet patch on the tiles, and gestured for Tanzeer to stand. "Now, it’s my turn," she said, her voice low and filled with desire.
Tanzeer, her mouth still wet with the taste of piss, couldn’t help but smile as she rose to her feet. She leaned back against the sink, one sandal-clad foot resting on the porcelain edge of the toilet seat. The click-clack of her heels against the tiles was a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. Tarannum, with the grace of a cat, sank to her haunches before her, the leather of her sandals digging into the soft flesh of her calves.
Tanzeer felt a thrill of excitement as Tarannum’s eager mouth found its way to her pussy, the scent of urine and sex thick in the air. Tarannum’s tongue was like a branding iron, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it traced the contours of her folds. Tanzeer’s own bladder was full, the pressure building, and she knew that soon she would have to give in to the sweet release of pissing in her friend’s mouth.
The moment came with an unspoken signal, a shift in the air that sent a shiver down Tanzeer’s spine. She relaxed her muscles, and a trickle of urine began to flow, splattering against Tarannum’s cheek before she managed to adjust herself. Tarannum's eyes snapped open, a wild look of hunger in them, and she repositioned herself so that the warm stream flowed directly into her mouth. Tanzeer watched as Tarannum’s lips parted, welcoming the golden nectar with a greedy thirst that seemed almost inhuman.
The sound of urine hitting Tarannum’s eager tongue filled the bathroom, a wet symphony of depravity that seemed to echo the throbbing pulse of Tanzeer’s own desire. She leaned back against the sink, her hands braced against the cold tiles, her eyes rolling back in her head as Tarannum drank from her.
The taste was heavenly, a sweet and salty concoction that danced on Tarannum’s taste buds like a fine wine. It was not the first time she had indulged in this forbidden delight, but it never failed to send a thrill through her body. The warmth of the pee contrasted with the coolness of the bathroom tiles, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful. The slight metallic tang was a reminder of the intimate connection she shared with her friend, a bond forged in the fires of their shared perversions.
Tanzeer’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned softly, the sound echoing off the walls like a siren’s call. Her grip on the sink tightened as Tarannum’s tongue danced around her clit, teasing and taunting the sensitive flesh. The urine flowed in a steady stream, and Tarannum’s eyes remained locked on her friend’s face, watching every twitch and tremor.
"Tell me kuttiya raand," Tanzeer mumbled, her voice thick with lust and spite. "Do you like the taste of my holy water… isn’t it more pak than the aab-e-zamzam… you fucking kuttiya ki padaish?" She giggled, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles as she watched Tarannum eagerly drink her piss.
Tarannum's eyes snapped up, a wicked glint of excitement and lust in them. The insult rolled off her like water on a duck's back, only serving to fuel her arousal. With a smack that reverberated through the small space, she slapped Tanzeer's thighs, causing her to wobble precariously on her heels. The stream of pee faltered, a stream escaping Tanzeer's pussy to run down her thighs and legs, pooling around and drenching the expensive sandals and her perfectly manicured feet in a warm golden puddle.
With the grace of a serpent, Tarannum leaned in, her mouth opening wide. She caught the last of Tanzeer's piss in a dramatic fashion, the liquid glistening in the light as it arced through the air. She held it in her mouth for a moment, her cheeks bulging as she gargled the urine like it was the finest mouthwash. The sight was both obscene and mesmerizing, a testament to the depths of their depravity.
Then, with a sudden, surprising move, Tarannum bent lower, her knees cracking on the cold tiles. She brought her face down to Tanzeer's sandal-covered foot, which was still planted firmly on the floor. The leather was stained wet, the scent of piss and leather mingling in the air. With a slow, deliberate motion, she placed her mouth over Tanzeer’s toes, which were sticking out of the leather straps of her sandal. A small pool of urine had formed there, trapped by the curve of the shoe and the arch of her friend's foot. Tarannum slurped it up greedily, the sound echoing through the bathroom.
The taste was a familiar one to her—a heady mix of the salty tang of piss and the rich, earthy flavor of the leather. It was a decadent cocktail that sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated lust through her body. She lapped up every last drop, her tongue sliding along the grooves of the sandal, savoring the way the leather had absorbed the flavor of their depravity.
Tanzeer's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as Tarannum’s mouth moved to her other foot which was now propped up on the porcelain edge of the commode. The warm wetness of her own urine coated the leather of her sandal, creating a slick surface for Tarannum to explore with her eager tongue. The sound of Tarannum's tongue slurping and lapping at the trapped liquid was obscene, yet it resonated with an undeniable eroticism that sent a jolt of electricity straight to Tanzeer's core.
Finally, Tarannum pulled away, her mouth and chin shiny with the residue of Tanzeer's piss. She looked up at her friend, her eyes gleaming with a wicked delight and devilish smile playing on her lips. "How could I let even a single drop of your sacred 'peshaab-e-Tanzeer' go to waste?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "It's more muqaddas than the aab-e-zamzam!" she quipped, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
Tanzeer giggled, the sound high-pitched and giddy with excitement. She felt a strange mix of pride and pleasure at the way Tarannum revered her urine, the way she treated it as if it were a sacred offering. "You're such a good pupil," she cooed, stroking Tarannum's cheek with a hand that was still sticky with her own fluids. "But now it's your turn to give."
Tarannum's eyes gleamed with eagerness as she nodded, her mouth still slick with the remnants of Tanzeer's pee. She rose to her feet, her own sandals clicking against the tiles as she moved to stand before her friend. With a flick of her wrist, she undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing the heavy swell of her breasts, the darkened nipples standing at attention. Tanzeer's eyes followed the movement, her own desire flaring like a match in the dark.
Tanzeer watched as Tarannum bent down again to her foot on the floor and began to lick the pee that had dribbled on the floor around her sandal. The wet slurping and sucking sound filled the air, a symphony of perversion that sent shivers down Tanzeer's spine. Tarannum's tongue was insatiable, tracing the delicate patterns of the tile with each swipe, leaving a clean path in its wake.
When she was satisfied that not a single drop remained, Tarannum straightened up, her face flushed with a mix of exertion and excitement. Tanzeer reached out a hand to help her balance. As Tarannum rose, their eyes met, and without a word, their mouths crashed together in a passionate kiss that seemed to hold the very essence of their depraved ritual.
Their bodies pressed together, the heat of their skin a stark contrast to the coolness of the bathroom. Their legs, clad in towering sandals, entwined, the leather straps digging into their flesh as they wrapped themselves around each other. The kiss grew deeper, tongues dueling and exploring, sharing the flavor of their shared depravity. The taste of urine was faint but unmistakable, a reminder of the unspeakable act they had just engaged in.
When they finally broke apart, both women were panting, their chests heaving with excitement. They grabbed towels from the rack, wiping their faces and bodies clean of any residue. Their make-up remained unblemished, a testament to their practiced air of sophistication. They touched up their lipstick and hair, the motions as natural as breathing, despite the obscene scene they had just shared.
Walking back to the bedroom, their high heels clicking in unison on the marble floor, they were a vision of depravity and beauty. Their naked forms were bathed in the soft glow of the pendant lights hanging from the ceiling, casting shadows that danced around them like specters of lust. They moved with the confidence of those who knew no shame, their sandals the only things that remained on their feet.
Tanzeer, whose social persona was that of a pious, burqa-clad woman, revealed a side to herself that was the antithesis of the chaste image she presented to the outside world. The stark contrast was as jarring as it was mesmerizing. Behind the layers of fabric that shrouded her from the prying eyes of society, she was a creature of unbridled desire, her soul a cauldron of simmering lust. Her burqa was a clever ruse, a chameleon's skin that allowed her to blend into the respectable fabric of Indore's high society, while in private, she discarded it like a serpent shedding its scales.
In the bedroom, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of sex and the heady musk of desire. The sight that greeted Tarannum and Tanzeer was like a page torn from a pornographic magazine, a tableau of carnality that made their own twisted games seem almost tame. Iqra lay on her back, her legs splayed wide, the soft folds of her pussy glistening with arousal. Nazia was poised above her with an expression of rapture, her own pussy descending like a velvet-covered hammer onto Iqra’s eager mouth and her face buried down in Iqra’s crotch, her tongue no doubt dancing a sinful ballet on the sensitive flesh beneath. The two of them were locked in a 69 embrace that was as intimate as it was obscene.
Ajay, his eyes glazed over with a mix of fear and arousal, was kneeling behind Nazia, his cock plunging into her wetness with the ferocity that belied his innocence, his youthful vigor driving him deeper with each thrust. Nazia's body was a canvas of decadence, her knees bent and digging into plush mattress on either sides of Iqra's shoulders, the dorsal parts of her feet pressed firmly into the bed with the soles of her sandals upturned and the long and slim heels sticking out like a lewd declaration of their shared debauchery. Nazia’s globular ass cheeks jiggled with each impact, and with her face buried down between Iqra’s thighs, she moaned in ecstasy as Ajay's cock claimed her with the same intensity that had claimed his soul.
Iqra's tongue was a blur of motion, flicking and lapping at Nazia's glistening pussy and Ajay's thrusting cock. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she tasted the potent blend of Nazia's juices and the salty musk of Ajay's excitement. Each stroke of his cock against her tongue sent a shiver of pleasure through her body, her own arousal building like a storm waiting to break. She felt the heat of their joined bodies, the softness of Nazia's folds against her cheek, and the firmness of Ajay's shaft as it glided in and out of her friend's sex.
Tarannum and Tanzeer, their eyes glued to the erotic tableau before them, exchanged knowing smirks as they lit up their 'Gold Flake Kings' cigarettes. The flares of the lighters briefly illuminated their faces, painting them in a stark, predatory light. The smoke curled around them like a serpent, becoming one with the heavy, musky air of the brightly lit bedroom. They didn't speak, the only sound being the occasional crackle of the ciggies as they took deep, lustful drags. Their sandals clacked against the floor as they moved to the drawer containing Tarannum’s collection of sex toys.
Selecting two realistic vibrator dildos, they took their places on the plush sofa chairs opposite the bed.
Tarannum sat back, her cigarette in one hand, the other holding the vibrator to her clit. She took a long drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing red as the smoke curled around her face. Her eyes never left the scene before her, transfixed by the passionate embrace of her friends and the young boy she had claimed as their plaything. The vibrator hummed to life in her hand, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. Tanzeer mirrored her, her cigarette hanging from her lips as she switched on the vibrator with a quiet buzz.
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