02-02-2025, 06:48 PM
Update 19:
On the bed, Nazia’s moans grew louder as Ajay’s strokes grew more vigorous, his youthful enthusiasm a stark contrast to the seasoned lust of the women. His hands gripped her hips, his knuckles white with the effort of each thrust. Nazia’s sandals remained firmly in place, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room as Ajay claimed her from behind. Iqra’s eyes were closed in ecstasy, her tongue moving in time with Ajay’s rhythm as she tasted Nazia’s wetness. The sight of the boy’s cock disappearing into Nazia’s pussy, the way her body shuddered with each thrust, was intoxicating to Tarannum and Tanzeer.
Iqra’s knees were bent upwards, the heels of her sandals digging into the mattress, providing leverage for her to push back against Nazia’s face as the latter feasted on her swollen pussy. The sound of Nazia’s eager lapping filled the room, a wet, rhythmic symphony that seemed to sync with Ajay’s desperate thrusts into her from behind. Tarannum and Tanzeer, perched on the sofa, watched the scene unfold with rapt attention, their ciggies smoldering as they touched themselves with the vibrators, the buzzing a subtle counterpoint to the sultry silence of the afternoon.
Iqra's thighs tightened around Nazia's head, her high heeled sandals digging into the plush mattress as the latter feverishly licked and sucked at her pussy. Nazia’s big boobs swayed with the motion, brushing against Iqra's taut belly with a delicious friction that made her squirm. The sight of Ajay’s youthful, sweat-slicked body above them, his cock pumping in and out of Nazia with a fervor that belied his age, was a visual feast for the two teachers. They watched him with a detached hunger, like predators observing their prey in the throes of passion.
Each time Ajay’s cock pulled out of Nazia’s pussy, a glistening string of her juices would connect them, only to snap and fall onto Iqra’s eagerly awaiting lips. She greedily licked up the salty-sweet nectar, the tang of Nazia’s desire mixing with the bitter taste of Ajay’s precum. The vibrator in Tarannum’s hand buzzed against her clit as she took a long drag on her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the mesmerizing dance of bodies before her. Tanzeer’s own hand worked in rhythm with the scene, the vibrator sliding in and out of her, mimicking the movements of Ajay’s cock in Nazia’s cunt.
Iqra’s breath grew ragged as Nazia’s tongue danced around her clit, the soft pillows of her breasts rubbing against Iqra’s taut stomach with each hungry movement. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she couldn’t help but moan out loud, the sound muffled by Nazia’s pussy pressing against her mouth. The pleasure was building, a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm her. Her sandal-clad heels dug into the mattress as she pushed her hips upward, eager for more, her toes curling in anticipation.
Nazia's mouth worked feverishly, her teeth grazing Iqra's sensitive flesh as she bit down gently on her labia. Iqra's moans grew louder, her body writhing in ecstasy as Nazia's expert tongue flicked and circled her clit. The sensation was maddening, a symphony of pleasure that built with each passing second. Her sandal-covered heels dug deeper into the mattress, the leather straps cutting into her skin as she arched her back, offering herself up to the delicious torment.
Then it hit her, the climax crashing over her like a wave, a crescendo of pleasure that made her whole body spasm. "Oh, fuck, oh chhinal kuttiya, yes!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with passion. Her body bucked wildly as she came, her orgasm shaking the very foundations of the room. The force of Iqra's orgasm was such that a fountain of her cunt juice shot up, drenching Nazia's face and her own thighs. The scent of her arousal filled the air, mingling with the acrid tang of their ciggies. Nazia sputtered and choked, but instead of pulling away, she leaned in closer, her eyes widening with excitement. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of Iqra's sweet release as it dripped down her chin.
Ajay, driven by the sight of Iqra's pleasure, hammered into Nazia with renewed vigor, his eyes glazed over with a mix of shock and arousal at the depraved scene unfolding before him. His cock was a blur of motion, disappearing into her wetness only to emerge coated in a glistening sheen that made his teachers' mouths water. Tarannum and Tanzeer watched him with the detached fascination of scientists observing a new species of animal, their own pleasure derived from his degradation.
Nazia's moans grew louder, a cacophony of guttural sounds that seemed to come from a place beyond conscious thought. Her body was a writhing mass of passion as Ajay's cock pounded into her from behind. Iqra lay beneath her, still shaking from the aftershocks of her own climax, her body a wet canvas of sweat and lust. Nazia's knees and her upturned sandals remained firmly planted on either side of Iqra's shoulders, her ass cheeks slapping against Ajay's thighs with each forceful thrust.
The words that spilled from Nazia's lips were a stream of filth, a testament to the depths of her depravity. "Fuck me, you little bastard," she slurred, her voice thick with passion and the effects of the 'Meow-Meow'. "Harder, faster, make me come, don’t stop!" Her language was raw, stripped of any semblance of decorum or restraint. It was the language of lust, of primal urges unleashed.
Ajay's eyes widened with fear and arousal as he heard the string of obscenities that rolled off her tongue. “Oh bhenchod launde, you're such a good fucker, filling me up with that big, hard uncut cock," she groaned, her words punctuated by the slap of skin on skin. "Aaahh, yes, just like that!" The veins in her neck bulged as she pushed back against him, urging him to go deeper, to claim her in a way that no one else ever had.
Tarannum and Tanzeer couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of Nazia’s undignified state. They knew all too well the power of the pleasure that gripped her, the way it could strip away all pretenses and leave one raw and exposed. They watched with cruel amusement as Nazia’s sandals dug into the mattress, her body moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrored the crazed look in her eyes. "Look at her," Tarannum said, her voice thick with contemptuous pleasure. "The desperate begum Nazia, begging like a street whore for a good fucking."
Tanzeer took a drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing red as she inhaled. "Looks like our slut begum is about to cum," she said to Tarannum, her voice low and amused. Sure enough, Nazia's body began to tense, her hips bucking wildly as Ajay's cock continued to plunge into her. The boy was like a marionette under their control, his movements jerky and desperate as he approached his own release.
The moment came with a strangled cry from Ajay, his body convulsing as he shot his cum deep into Nazia's eager pussy. She felt the warm, thick spurts fill her, and it was all she needed to push her over the edge. Her own orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body arching off the bed as she screamed out her pleasure. The sound was primal, a declaration of her sexual dominance that resonated through the room.
Nazia's cries grew in intensity, each syllable a profanity that seemed to echo in the air. "Haaiii allllaaahhh, uuuunhhh maaaadarchod pillle!" she shouted, her voice hoarse with passion. “Chod.. chod… chod saale bhonsar-chod…. haayy allaaah… I’m coming, I’m coming!" The blasphemy rolled off her tongue as easily as the sweat that coated her body. Iqra, still shaking from her own climax, couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The rich, beautiful wife of a prominent politician, sweating and swearing like a common whore, her sandals digging into the bed as she writhed in pleasure.
The moment of Nazia’s release was explosive. Ajay’s cock erupted deep inside her, filling her with a torrent of hot, sticky cum. The force of his orgasm was so intense that it sent her over the edge as well. Her pussy clamped down on him like a vice, her muscles pulsing as she drenched his cock in her juices. The combined fluids of their climaxes spurted out from her pussy, cascading down onto Iqra’s face like a depraved waterfall. Iqra’s eyes were wide with shock, but she made no move to escape the deluge. Instead, she opened her mouth, catching the warm, salty stream in her mouth, swallowing greedily as if it were the sweetest nectar.
The three bodies quivered in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. Ajay’s youthful strength gave out, and he collapsed onto Nazia’s back, his cock still buried deep inside her. Nazia’s own climax had left her trembling, and she slumped onto Iqra, her legs still spread wide, the sandals still firmly in place.
On the sofa chairs, Tarannum and Tanzeer had reached the crescendo of their own private concert. The vibrating dildos inside their pussies had brought them to the brink of a shared ecstasy. They watched the scene before them, their own lust mirrored in the young boy’s eyes as he released himself into Nazia. The ciggies fell from their fingers, forgotten and forgotten as the need for a deeper, more primal connection overtook them.
The sound of their orgasms filled the room, a symphony of wetness and desperation that competed with the frantic slapping of skin and the cries of pleasure from the bed. Their cunt juices spurted out like fountain streams, painting the floor with their shared release. The brightness of the room cast stark shadows across their contorted faces, a silent testament to the depth of their depravity. They moaned in unison, their bodies shaking with the force of their climaxes.
Tarannum's back arched as she pushed the vibrator deeper, the plastic shaft disappearing inside her with a wet, squelching sound. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she threw her head back, her long hair cascading over the back of the chair. Her sandals remained firmly on her feet, the leather glinting in the light as she ground her hips against the chair's edge, her toes curling with each wave of pleasure that crashed over her. The cigarette lay forgotten on the floor in the pool of their cunt juices, a symbol of their shared decadence.
Tanzeer’s eyes snapped open, the intensity of her orgasm fading to a dull throb. She looked down at the vibrator still buried inside her, her own juices coating the shaft. With a sigh, she pulled it out with a wet pop, the sound echoing through the room. She sat up, her sandals clacking against the floor as she stepped over to the bed, her eyes raking over the tangled mess of bodies. Ajay lay atop Nazia, his cock still pulsing with the aftermath of his release, the smell of sex heavy in the air.
"Alright, Ajay," Tarannum’s voice was a velvety purr as she leaned back into the sofa, her fingers idly playing with her own wetness. "Why don’t you go take shower and freshen up? We wouldn’t want your parents to suspect anything, would we?" She gestured to the bathroom, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and malice. Ajay looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. He nodded mutely, his legs unsteady as he climbed off the bed, his cock swaying with each step.
The women watched him go, their bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of their shared climax. Tarannum picked up her phone, her thumbs flying over the screen as she ordered snacks and dinner through Zomato. She knew exactly what they would all need to recover from their little escapade. "Get something greasy," she murmured to herself, a smirk playing on her lips as she thought of Ajay’s innocence, now irrevocably tainted by their twisted games.
As the sound of the shower filled the air, Tarannum, Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra lounged around the room, naked except for their sandals. They lit up new ciggies, the smoke curling around their heads like a halo of sin. They were the goddesses of depravity, and the room was their temple.
"Tarannum," Iqra spoke up, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure. "Could we keep him here for the whole night?" She glanced towards bathroom door, where the sound of the shower still ran. Her eyes gleamed with a hint of greed that wasn't entirely unfamiliar to the others. Nazia looked over, her cheeks still flushed from her intense climax, and nodded in agreement. Tanzeer took a drag from her cigarette, “I second that. I’m not done with him yet. That was just the appetizer. Let’s keep him for the main course tonight."
Tarannum’s eyes narrowed, and she took a moment to consider their suggestion. "No," she said finally, her voice firm. "We can't have him staying the night. Too risky. He has a family, and we don't need that kind of trouble." Her tone was a blend of amusement and authority, the chuckle in her voice hinting at the thrill of playing with fire without getting burned.
But the hunger in their eyes didn’t waver. "Besides," Tarannum added with a knowing smile, "we have each other. And we have our toys." She gestured to the big open drawer that held a cornucopia of leather, silicone, and chrome. The sight of the several dildos of various sizes and shapes, the vibrating wands, the butt plugs, and the strap-on harnesses brought a glint of excitement to the other women's eyes. "And if we do get tired of these," she winked at Nazia, “we can always call your little secret agency for hiring some young, sturdy gigolos to keep us company."
The room buzzed with the anticipation of a night of unbridled pleasure, free from the constraints of propriety and the pesky inconvenience of guilt. Tarannum knew her friends' tastes well, and she knew that a night of just the four of them could be just as satisfying as one with their latest conquest. They had spent countless weekends together, exploring the depths of their desires without judgment, pushing each other to new heights of pleasure.
When Ajay emerged from the bathroom, the towel precariously wrapped around his waist, his eyes darted around the room, searching for his discarded clothes. Tarannum, lounging on the bed, her own sandals still on, took pity on him. She gestured towards the pile of his clothes by the bedside with a flick of her cigarette. "You can get dressed, Ajay," she said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.
The room was still heavy with the musk of sex, the air thick with the smoke of their ciggies. Ajay's heart raced as he bent down to pick up his clothes, his knees trembling slightly. He could feel their eyes on him, devouring him as if he were the last piece of meat at a banquet. He was all too aware of their insatiable hunger, a hunger that seemed never to be fully sated but he felt relief that for now, the worst was over and he could leave.
As he was about to slip into his pants, the doorbell rang, a shrill sound that pierced through the quietude of the room. Tarannum's eyes lit up with mischief. "Ah, that must be our dinner," she said, her voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness that made Ajay's stomach turn. She gestured to the door. "Could you be a dear and let the boy in, Ajay? And don’t forget to put the food on the dining table."
Ajay nodded, his movements jerky with haste as he dressed, the fabric sticking to his skin. He made his way to the door, his heart racing like a rabbit caught in a snare. He could feel the women's eyes on him, watching him with a mix of amusement and hunger that had nothing to do with food. He opened the door to find the delivery boy, his eyes flickering over the young man's face before focusing on the bag of food in his hand.
"Here," Ajay said, taking the bag and signing for the food, his voice barely above a whisper. The delivery boy looked at him curiously but said nothing, seemingly oblivious to the debauchery that had just unfolded in the room behind him. Ajay quickly shut the door, his heart hammering in his chest.
The four women strutted into the dining room, their nakedness unabashed, their high heeled sandals clicking against the cold marble floor like a quartet of seductive snakes. Tarannum's eyes twinkled with mischief as she saw the food Ajay had brought in. "Oh, how delightful!" she exclaimed, her tone laden with more than one meaning. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Ajay?" she asked, her voice a silky purr.
Ajay's eyes darted to the clock on the wall, his stomach growling in protest against the tumult of his emotions. He knew his parents would be waiting, expecting him to return from his 'tutoring session'. "I can't, Khan ma’m” he murmured, his voice barely audible. "My parents are expecting me for dinner."
Tarannum's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and hunger. "Alright then," she said, her voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down Ajay's spine. She gestured for him to come closer, and he obeyed, his legs feeling like they were made of lead. "You've passed the test with flying colors, Ajay. You've made us all so happy, and we're very impressed with you." Her words were a knife, slicing through the haze of his fear and confusion, leaving him feeling both elated and terrified.
As he approached, Tarannum wrapped her arms around him, her sandals clicking against the marble floor as she stepped closer. Her embrace was tight, almost painfully so, and when she kissed him, it was with the same ferocity that she had used to claim him earlier. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, and he could taste the faint hint of tobacco and alcohol. "You can leave now, Ajay," she whispered against his lips, "but remember, you know what you have to do before you go."
Ajay nodded, his heart racing. He had become all too familiar with the ritual she had created for him: worship her sandalled feet before he left her house. It was a strange mix of humiliation and arousal that he didn't fully understand, but he knew it was something she craved. As he knelt before her, his eyes traveling up her toned legs to the shiny leather of her sandals, he couldn't help but wonder if the other three women would expect the same.
He leaned in, his tongue tentatively touching the arch of Tarannum's foot, feeling the smooth leather of the sandal against his face. The taste of her skin, mixed with the faint scent of her sweat and the musk of their earlier activities, filled his mouth. He licked along the straps, feeling the coarse material of the sandals against his tongue. Tarannum's smile grew wider as she watched him, the power in her eyes a stark reminder of the control she had over him.
Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra couldn't help but exchange glances of admiration for their friend. Tarannum had always had a way with young men, but this was something else entirely. They had known about her proclivities, had even indulged in them with her on occasion, but to see her so in control, so dominant, was intoxicating. It was a power that each of them craved in their own way, a power that they had just experienced through their own depravities with Ajay.
Ajay's tongue flicked over the leather straps of Tarannum's sandals, his eyes never leaving hers as he lapped at her toes. The taste of her sweat and the faint scent of her perfume filled his senses, a heady cocktail that made his stomach churn with a mix of fear and arousal. Her foot twitched slightly in response, the leather squeaking against his cheek.
"Good boy," she murmured, her voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "Now, go and do the same for the others." She gestured to where Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra sat, their sandals still gleaming in the bright light of the room. Ajay's heart sank, his eyes flicking to each woman in turn. He had hoped that licking Tarannum's feet would be enough, that he could leave afterward, buther words dashed those hopes. He knew what was expected of him now.
He moved to Nazia, her sandals a vision of black leather and gold accents that gleamed in the light. She spread her legs, revealing the clean, unblemished skin of her feet. "Lick," she ordered, her voice cold and commanding. Ajay didn't hesitate, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of her foot from her toes to her heel. The leather was warm from her skin, and the faint taste of her scent lingered on the material. Nazia's toes curled in pleasure as he worked his way up her sandal, licking and kissing each inch with a feigned enthusiasm that made his stomach churn.
Tanzeer and Iqra watched with rapt attention, their hunger palpable in the air. They leaned back in their seats, sipping on their drinks, their own sandals planted firmly on the ground. For them, this was a spectacle, a display of dominance that only served to fuel their desire for the night ahead. Ajay moved to Iqra's outstretched legs, his eyes glazed with a mix of fear and obedience. Her sandals were a simple yet elegant design, the leather as dark as the secrets they all shared.
Iqra's foot tapped impatiently, a silent order for him to begin. He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in, his tongue tentatively touching the arch of her foot. The leather was cooler than Tarannum's, a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. He licked and kissed his way along the sandal's strap, the taste of her and the leather mingling on his tongue. He could feel her watching him, her gaze as intense as the grip she had on his hair, guiding him, controlling him. It was a dance of dominance and submission that played out in the most intimate of gestures.
As Ajay moved to Tanzeer, the room was eerily silent except for the soft sounds of his ministrations. Tanzeer's sandals were different, a rich mahogany color with intricate designs etched into the leather. She didn't say a word, just offered her sandal, the sole facing him. He took it in his hands, his breath hitching as he realized what she wanted. Slowly, with trembling hands, he brought the sandal to his mouth and began to lick the sole, the leather rougher than he had expected. Her foot remained still, a silent testament to her power. He knew he had to do it, to cleanse her sandal of any impurity he had brought to it, to show his complete submission to her will.
The taste of her sandal was bitter and unpleasant, but he didn't dare to stop. The other women watched him with a mix of amusement and satisfaction, their eyes gleaming with the knowledge that they had broken him. When he had licked every inch, Tanzeer leaned forward, her foot still in the sandal, and pressed her toes against his face. "Good boy," she murmured, the words a gentle caress in the sea of his humiliation. Ajay felt the sandal's warmth against his cheek, a stark contrast to the coldness in his soul.
Finally, when he had finished, Tarannum leaned down and cupped his chin, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "You've done well," she said, her eyes shining with a strange mix of affection and triumph. "Now, before you go, a parting gift." Without another word, she bent down and pressed her lips to his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting of ciggies and desire. The other three followed suit, each one hugging him tightly and giving him a lingering kiss that made him feel both cherished and used.
As Ajay picked up his bike and cycled towards his home, the evening air felt thick with the scent of his own fear and arousal. The pedals turned beneath him, the rhythmic motion doing little to ease the tumult of emotions swirling in his stomach. He couldn't help but think about how he had ended up in this situation, a mere pawn in their game of lust and manipulation. It had all started with a simple math tutoring session, and now he was a participant in their twisted rituals, a plaything for their perverse desires.
The wind whipped through his hair as he sped through the well-lit streets of Indore, his mind racing back to the moments when he had felt the thrill of their touch despite his unwillingness. It was a sin, he knew, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But even as he chastised himself, he couldn't deny the sickening excitement that had pulsed through him when they had used him, when he had been the center of their attention, the object of their depraved hunger. It was a feeling that both repulsed and intrigued him, a dark secret that he knew he could never share with anyone.
The moment he stepped into his house, Ajay was greeted with the warm embrace of his mother, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He forced a smile, playing the role of the obedient son, the good student who had just come back from a tutoring session. His father, engrossed in the evening news, barely glanced up, nodding his approval at the sight of his son's dedication to his studies. Dinner was a quiet affair, the clink of cutlery against plates the only sound that pierced the silence. Ajay picked at his food, his appetite destroyed by the events of the evening.
On the bed, Nazia’s moans grew louder as Ajay’s strokes grew more vigorous, his youthful enthusiasm a stark contrast to the seasoned lust of the women. His hands gripped her hips, his knuckles white with the effort of each thrust. Nazia’s sandals remained firmly in place, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room as Ajay claimed her from behind. Iqra’s eyes were closed in ecstasy, her tongue moving in time with Ajay’s rhythm as she tasted Nazia’s wetness. The sight of the boy’s cock disappearing into Nazia’s pussy, the way her body shuddered with each thrust, was intoxicating to Tarannum and Tanzeer.
Iqra’s knees were bent upwards, the heels of her sandals digging into the mattress, providing leverage for her to push back against Nazia’s face as the latter feasted on her swollen pussy. The sound of Nazia’s eager lapping filled the room, a wet, rhythmic symphony that seemed to sync with Ajay’s desperate thrusts into her from behind. Tarannum and Tanzeer, perched on the sofa, watched the scene unfold with rapt attention, their ciggies smoldering as they touched themselves with the vibrators, the buzzing a subtle counterpoint to the sultry silence of the afternoon.
Iqra's thighs tightened around Nazia's head, her high heeled sandals digging into the plush mattress as the latter feverishly licked and sucked at her pussy. Nazia’s big boobs swayed with the motion, brushing against Iqra's taut belly with a delicious friction that made her squirm. The sight of Ajay’s youthful, sweat-slicked body above them, his cock pumping in and out of Nazia with a fervor that belied his age, was a visual feast for the two teachers. They watched him with a detached hunger, like predators observing their prey in the throes of passion.
Each time Ajay’s cock pulled out of Nazia’s pussy, a glistening string of her juices would connect them, only to snap and fall onto Iqra’s eagerly awaiting lips. She greedily licked up the salty-sweet nectar, the tang of Nazia’s desire mixing with the bitter taste of Ajay’s precum. The vibrator in Tarannum’s hand buzzed against her clit as she took a long drag on her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the mesmerizing dance of bodies before her. Tanzeer’s own hand worked in rhythm with the scene, the vibrator sliding in and out of her, mimicking the movements of Ajay’s cock in Nazia’s cunt.
Iqra’s breath grew ragged as Nazia’s tongue danced around her clit, the soft pillows of her breasts rubbing against Iqra’s taut stomach with each hungry movement. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she couldn’t help but moan out loud, the sound muffled by Nazia’s pussy pressing against her mouth. The pleasure was building, a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm her. Her sandal-clad heels dug into the mattress as she pushed her hips upward, eager for more, her toes curling in anticipation.
Nazia's mouth worked feverishly, her teeth grazing Iqra's sensitive flesh as she bit down gently on her labia. Iqra's moans grew louder, her body writhing in ecstasy as Nazia's expert tongue flicked and circled her clit. The sensation was maddening, a symphony of pleasure that built with each passing second. Her sandal-covered heels dug deeper into the mattress, the leather straps cutting into her skin as she arched her back, offering herself up to the delicious torment.
Then it hit her, the climax crashing over her like a wave, a crescendo of pleasure that made her whole body spasm. "Oh, fuck, oh chhinal kuttiya, yes!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with passion. Her body bucked wildly as she came, her orgasm shaking the very foundations of the room. The force of Iqra's orgasm was such that a fountain of her cunt juice shot up, drenching Nazia's face and her own thighs. The scent of her arousal filled the air, mingling with the acrid tang of their ciggies. Nazia sputtered and choked, but instead of pulling away, she leaned in closer, her eyes widening with excitement. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of Iqra's sweet release as it dripped down her chin.
Ajay, driven by the sight of Iqra's pleasure, hammered into Nazia with renewed vigor, his eyes glazed over with a mix of shock and arousal at the depraved scene unfolding before him. His cock was a blur of motion, disappearing into her wetness only to emerge coated in a glistening sheen that made his teachers' mouths water. Tarannum and Tanzeer watched him with the detached fascination of scientists observing a new species of animal, their own pleasure derived from his degradation.
Nazia's moans grew louder, a cacophony of guttural sounds that seemed to come from a place beyond conscious thought. Her body was a writhing mass of passion as Ajay's cock pounded into her from behind. Iqra lay beneath her, still shaking from the aftershocks of her own climax, her body a wet canvas of sweat and lust. Nazia's knees and her upturned sandals remained firmly planted on either side of Iqra's shoulders, her ass cheeks slapping against Ajay's thighs with each forceful thrust.
The words that spilled from Nazia's lips were a stream of filth, a testament to the depths of her depravity. "Fuck me, you little bastard," she slurred, her voice thick with passion and the effects of the 'Meow-Meow'. "Harder, faster, make me come, don’t stop!" Her language was raw, stripped of any semblance of decorum or restraint. It was the language of lust, of primal urges unleashed.
Ajay's eyes widened with fear and arousal as he heard the string of obscenities that rolled off her tongue. “Oh bhenchod launde, you're such a good fucker, filling me up with that big, hard uncut cock," she groaned, her words punctuated by the slap of skin on skin. "Aaahh, yes, just like that!" The veins in her neck bulged as she pushed back against him, urging him to go deeper, to claim her in a way that no one else ever had.
Tarannum and Tanzeer couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of Nazia’s undignified state. They knew all too well the power of the pleasure that gripped her, the way it could strip away all pretenses and leave one raw and exposed. They watched with cruel amusement as Nazia’s sandals dug into the mattress, her body moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrored the crazed look in her eyes. "Look at her," Tarannum said, her voice thick with contemptuous pleasure. "The desperate begum Nazia, begging like a street whore for a good fucking."
Tanzeer took a drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing red as she inhaled. "Looks like our slut begum is about to cum," she said to Tarannum, her voice low and amused. Sure enough, Nazia's body began to tense, her hips bucking wildly as Ajay's cock continued to plunge into her. The boy was like a marionette under their control, his movements jerky and desperate as he approached his own release.
The moment came with a strangled cry from Ajay, his body convulsing as he shot his cum deep into Nazia's eager pussy. She felt the warm, thick spurts fill her, and it was all she needed to push her over the edge. Her own orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body arching off the bed as she screamed out her pleasure. The sound was primal, a declaration of her sexual dominance that resonated through the room.
Nazia's cries grew in intensity, each syllable a profanity that seemed to echo in the air. "Haaiii allllaaahhh, uuuunhhh maaaadarchod pillle!" she shouted, her voice hoarse with passion. “Chod.. chod… chod saale bhonsar-chod…. haayy allaaah… I’m coming, I’m coming!" The blasphemy rolled off her tongue as easily as the sweat that coated her body. Iqra, still shaking from her own climax, couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The rich, beautiful wife of a prominent politician, sweating and swearing like a common whore, her sandals digging into the bed as she writhed in pleasure.
The moment of Nazia’s release was explosive. Ajay’s cock erupted deep inside her, filling her with a torrent of hot, sticky cum. The force of his orgasm was so intense that it sent her over the edge as well. Her pussy clamped down on him like a vice, her muscles pulsing as she drenched his cock in her juices. The combined fluids of their climaxes spurted out from her pussy, cascading down onto Iqra’s face like a depraved waterfall. Iqra’s eyes were wide with shock, but she made no move to escape the deluge. Instead, she opened her mouth, catching the warm, salty stream in her mouth, swallowing greedily as if it were the sweetest nectar.
The three bodies quivered in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. Ajay’s youthful strength gave out, and he collapsed onto Nazia’s back, his cock still buried deep inside her. Nazia’s own climax had left her trembling, and she slumped onto Iqra, her legs still spread wide, the sandals still firmly in place.
On the sofa chairs, Tarannum and Tanzeer had reached the crescendo of their own private concert. The vibrating dildos inside their pussies had brought them to the brink of a shared ecstasy. They watched the scene before them, their own lust mirrored in the young boy’s eyes as he released himself into Nazia. The ciggies fell from their fingers, forgotten and forgotten as the need for a deeper, more primal connection overtook them.
The sound of their orgasms filled the room, a symphony of wetness and desperation that competed with the frantic slapping of skin and the cries of pleasure from the bed. Their cunt juices spurted out like fountain streams, painting the floor with their shared release. The brightness of the room cast stark shadows across their contorted faces, a silent testament to the depth of their depravity. They moaned in unison, their bodies shaking with the force of their climaxes.
Tarannum's back arched as she pushed the vibrator deeper, the plastic shaft disappearing inside her with a wet, squelching sound. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she threw her head back, her long hair cascading over the back of the chair. Her sandals remained firmly on her feet, the leather glinting in the light as she ground her hips against the chair's edge, her toes curling with each wave of pleasure that crashed over her. The cigarette lay forgotten on the floor in the pool of their cunt juices, a symbol of their shared decadence.
Tanzeer’s eyes snapped open, the intensity of her orgasm fading to a dull throb. She looked down at the vibrator still buried inside her, her own juices coating the shaft. With a sigh, she pulled it out with a wet pop, the sound echoing through the room. She sat up, her sandals clacking against the floor as she stepped over to the bed, her eyes raking over the tangled mess of bodies. Ajay lay atop Nazia, his cock still pulsing with the aftermath of his release, the smell of sex heavy in the air.
"Alright, Ajay," Tarannum’s voice was a velvety purr as she leaned back into the sofa, her fingers idly playing with her own wetness. "Why don’t you go take shower and freshen up? We wouldn’t want your parents to suspect anything, would we?" She gestured to the bathroom, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and malice. Ajay looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. He nodded mutely, his legs unsteady as he climbed off the bed, his cock swaying with each step.
The women watched him go, their bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of their shared climax. Tarannum picked up her phone, her thumbs flying over the screen as she ordered snacks and dinner through Zomato. She knew exactly what they would all need to recover from their little escapade. "Get something greasy," she murmured to herself, a smirk playing on her lips as she thought of Ajay’s innocence, now irrevocably tainted by their twisted games.
As the sound of the shower filled the air, Tarannum, Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra lounged around the room, naked except for their sandals. They lit up new ciggies, the smoke curling around their heads like a halo of sin. They were the goddesses of depravity, and the room was their temple.
"Tarannum," Iqra spoke up, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure. "Could we keep him here for the whole night?" She glanced towards bathroom door, where the sound of the shower still ran. Her eyes gleamed with a hint of greed that wasn't entirely unfamiliar to the others. Nazia looked over, her cheeks still flushed from her intense climax, and nodded in agreement. Tanzeer took a drag from her cigarette, “I second that. I’m not done with him yet. That was just the appetizer. Let’s keep him for the main course tonight."
Tarannum’s eyes narrowed, and she took a moment to consider their suggestion. "No," she said finally, her voice firm. "We can't have him staying the night. Too risky. He has a family, and we don't need that kind of trouble." Her tone was a blend of amusement and authority, the chuckle in her voice hinting at the thrill of playing with fire without getting burned.
But the hunger in their eyes didn’t waver. "Besides," Tarannum added with a knowing smile, "we have each other. And we have our toys." She gestured to the big open drawer that held a cornucopia of leather, silicone, and chrome. The sight of the several dildos of various sizes and shapes, the vibrating wands, the butt plugs, and the strap-on harnesses brought a glint of excitement to the other women's eyes. "And if we do get tired of these," she winked at Nazia, “we can always call your little secret agency for hiring some young, sturdy gigolos to keep us company."
The room buzzed with the anticipation of a night of unbridled pleasure, free from the constraints of propriety and the pesky inconvenience of guilt. Tarannum knew her friends' tastes well, and she knew that a night of just the four of them could be just as satisfying as one with their latest conquest. They had spent countless weekends together, exploring the depths of their desires without judgment, pushing each other to new heights of pleasure.
When Ajay emerged from the bathroom, the towel precariously wrapped around his waist, his eyes darted around the room, searching for his discarded clothes. Tarannum, lounging on the bed, her own sandals still on, took pity on him. She gestured towards the pile of his clothes by the bedside with a flick of her cigarette. "You can get dressed, Ajay," she said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.
The room was still heavy with the musk of sex, the air thick with the smoke of their ciggies. Ajay's heart raced as he bent down to pick up his clothes, his knees trembling slightly. He could feel their eyes on him, devouring him as if he were the last piece of meat at a banquet. He was all too aware of their insatiable hunger, a hunger that seemed never to be fully sated but he felt relief that for now, the worst was over and he could leave.
As he was about to slip into his pants, the doorbell rang, a shrill sound that pierced through the quietude of the room. Tarannum's eyes lit up with mischief. "Ah, that must be our dinner," she said, her voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness that made Ajay's stomach turn. She gestured to the door. "Could you be a dear and let the boy in, Ajay? And don’t forget to put the food on the dining table."
Ajay nodded, his movements jerky with haste as he dressed, the fabric sticking to his skin. He made his way to the door, his heart racing like a rabbit caught in a snare. He could feel the women's eyes on him, watching him with a mix of amusement and hunger that had nothing to do with food. He opened the door to find the delivery boy, his eyes flickering over the young man's face before focusing on the bag of food in his hand.
"Here," Ajay said, taking the bag and signing for the food, his voice barely above a whisper. The delivery boy looked at him curiously but said nothing, seemingly oblivious to the debauchery that had just unfolded in the room behind him. Ajay quickly shut the door, his heart hammering in his chest.
The four women strutted into the dining room, their nakedness unabashed, their high heeled sandals clicking against the cold marble floor like a quartet of seductive snakes. Tarannum's eyes twinkled with mischief as she saw the food Ajay had brought in. "Oh, how delightful!" she exclaimed, her tone laden with more than one meaning. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Ajay?" she asked, her voice a silky purr.
Ajay's eyes darted to the clock on the wall, his stomach growling in protest against the tumult of his emotions. He knew his parents would be waiting, expecting him to return from his 'tutoring session'. "I can't, Khan ma’m” he murmured, his voice barely audible. "My parents are expecting me for dinner."
Tarannum's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and hunger. "Alright then," she said, her voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down Ajay's spine. She gestured for him to come closer, and he obeyed, his legs feeling like they were made of lead. "You've passed the test with flying colors, Ajay. You've made us all so happy, and we're very impressed with you." Her words were a knife, slicing through the haze of his fear and confusion, leaving him feeling both elated and terrified.
As he approached, Tarannum wrapped her arms around him, her sandals clicking against the marble floor as she stepped closer. Her embrace was tight, almost painfully so, and when she kissed him, it was with the same ferocity that she had used to claim him earlier. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, and he could taste the faint hint of tobacco and alcohol. "You can leave now, Ajay," she whispered against his lips, "but remember, you know what you have to do before you go."
Ajay nodded, his heart racing. He had become all too familiar with the ritual she had created for him: worship her sandalled feet before he left her house. It was a strange mix of humiliation and arousal that he didn't fully understand, but he knew it was something she craved. As he knelt before her, his eyes traveling up her toned legs to the shiny leather of her sandals, he couldn't help but wonder if the other three women would expect the same.
He leaned in, his tongue tentatively touching the arch of Tarannum's foot, feeling the smooth leather of the sandal against his face. The taste of her skin, mixed with the faint scent of her sweat and the musk of their earlier activities, filled his mouth. He licked along the straps, feeling the coarse material of the sandals against his tongue. Tarannum's smile grew wider as she watched him, the power in her eyes a stark reminder of the control she had over him.
Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra couldn't help but exchange glances of admiration for their friend. Tarannum had always had a way with young men, but this was something else entirely. They had known about her proclivities, had even indulged in them with her on occasion, but to see her so in control, so dominant, was intoxicating. It was a power that each of them craved in their own way, a power that they had just experienced through their own depravities with Ajay.
Ajay's tongue flicked over the leather straps of Tarannum's sandals, his eyes never leaving hers as he lapped at her toes. The taste of her sweat and the faint scent of her perfume filled his senses, a heady cocktail that made his stomach churn with a mix of fear and arousal. Her foot twitched slightly in response, the leather squeaking against his cheek.
"Good boy," she murmured, her voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "Now, go and do the same for the others." She gestured to where Tanzeer, Nazia, and Iqra sat, their sandals still gleaming in the bright light of the room. Ajay's heart sank, his eyes flicking to each woman in turn. He had hoped that licking Tarannum's feet would be enough, that he could leave afterward, buther words dashed those hopes. He knew what was expected of him now.
He moved to Nazia, her sandals a vision of black leather and gold accents that gleamed in the light. She spread her legs, revealing the clean, unblemished skin of her feet. "Lick," she ordered, her voice cold and commanding. Ajay didn't hesitate, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of her foot from her toes to her heel. The leather was warm from her skin, and the faint taste of her scent lingered on the material. Nazia's toes curled in pleasure as he worked his way up her sandal, licking and kissing each inch with a feigned enthusiasm that made his stomach churn.
Tanzeer and Iqra watched with rapt attention, their hunger palpable in the air. They leaned back in their seats, sipping on their drinks, their own sandals planted firmly on the ground. For them, this was a spectacle, a display of dominance that only served to fuel their desire for the night ahead. Ajay moved to Iqra's outstretched legs, his eyes glazed with a mix of fear and obedience. Her sandals were a simple yet elegant design, the leather as dark as the secrets they all shared.
Iqra's foot tapped impatiently, a silent order for him to begin. He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in, his tongue tentatively touching the arch of her foot. The leather was cooler than Tarannum's, a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. He licked and kissed his way along the sandal's strap, the taste of her and the leather mingling on his tongue. He could feel her watching him, her gaze as intense as the grip she had on his hair, guiding him, controlling him. It was a dance of dominance and submission that played out in the most intimate of gestures.
As Ajay moved to Tanzeer, the room was eerily silent except for the soft sounds of his ministrations. Tanzeer's sandals were different, a rich mahogany color with intricate designs etched into the leather. She didn't say a word, just offered her sandal, the sole facing him. He took it in his hands, his breath hitching as he realized what she wanted. Slowly, with trembling hands, he brought the sandal to his mouth and began to lick the sole, the leather rougher than he had expected. Her foot remained still, a silent testament to her power. He knew he had to do it, to cleanse her sandal of any impurity he had brought to it, to show his complete submission to her will.
The taste of her sandal was bitter and unpleasant, but he didn't dare to stop. The other women watched him with a mix of amusement and satisfaction, their eyes gleaming with the knowledge that they had broken him. When he had licked every inch, Tanzeer leaned forward, her foot still in the sandal, and pressed her toes against his face. "Good boy," she murmured, the words a gentle caress in the sea of his humiliation. Ajay felt the sandal's warmth against his cheek, a stark contrast to the coldness in his soul.
Finally, when he had finished, Tarannum leaned down and cupped his chin, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "You've done well," she said, her eyes shining with a strange mix of affection and triumph. "Now, before you go, a parting gift." Without another word, she bent down and pressed her lips to his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting of ciggies and desire. The other three followed suit, each one hugging him tightly and giving him a lingering kiss that made him feel both cherished and used.
As Ajay picked up his bike and cycled towards his home, the evening air felt thick with the scent of his own fear and arousal. The pedals turned beneath him, the rhythmic motion doing little to ease the tumult of emotions swirling in his stomach. He couldn't help but think about how he had ended up in this situation, a mere pawn in their game of lust and manipulation. It had all started with a simple math tutoring session, and now he was a participant in their twisted rituals, a plaything for their perverse desires.
The wind whipped through his hair as he sped through the well-lit streets of Indore, his mind racing back to the moments when he had felt the thrill of their touch despite his unwillingness. It was a sin, he knew, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But even as he chastised himself, he couldn't deny the sickening excitement that had pulsed through him when they had used him, when he had been the center of their attention, the object of their depraved hunger. It was a feeling that both repulsed and intrigued him, a dark secret that he knew he could never share with anyone.
The moment he stepped into his house, Ajay was greeted with the warm embrace of his mother, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He forced a smile, playing the role of the obedient son, the good student who had just come back from a tutoring session. His father, engrossed in the evening news, barely glanced up, nodding his approval at the sight of his son's dedication to his studies. Dinner was a quiet affair, the clink of cutlery against plates the only sound that pierced the silence. Ajay picked at his food, his appetite destroyed by the events of the evening.
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