03-02-2025, 11:13 PM
As Anand entered the room, he still had an air of raw energy about him, completely naked with his erection still standing proud and glistening with Simran's juices. His presence added another layer of intensity to the already electric atmosphere. Catching a glimpse of Ananya's state, he smirked at the sight of her disheveled appearance, her hair matted and face streaked with remnants of her recent activities.
Without a word, Anand walked over to Ananya, his cocky stride reflecting his confidence. "Ketan, clean us up" he barked, his tone dismissive as he gestured towards Ananya's face and his own slick erection. There was no cloth in sight, no other fabric to use, so, feeling a deep sense of humiliation, I grabbed Ananya’s black lace bra from the floor. It was slightly stiff with dried fluids, a stark reminder of the night's debauchery.
I approached Ananya slowly avoiding her eyes, holding the bra in trembling hands. First, I gently wiped her face, removing the sticky traces from her cheeks and chin. Each stroke of the fabric over her skin felt intimate and shaming, the act itself a perverse kind of caretaking that twisted in my gut. Then, with a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, I moved to Anand. His erection bobbed slightly as I hesitantly touched it with the bra, wiping off Simran’s juices. The fabric slid over his length, a move that made me flinch internally, each pass a silent testament to my own inadequacies.
Ananya watched quietly, her eyes heavy with a mix of fatigue and blissful satisfaction. Her gaze held a new look—one of complete surrender to the night’s wild turn of events, a far cry from any expression I had ever seen on her face before.
Once cleaned, Ananya shifted her focus back to Anand, who was lying flat on the bed. She crawled towards him, her every movement heavy yet fluid with seductive intent. Aligning herself with him, she paused, looking back at me one last time with those changed, deep eyes, then lowered herself onto his cock. Her moan was slow and deep, filled with a pleasure so intense it filled the room.
Her hips began to move in earnest, her moans punctuating the air with each of Anand's thrusts. His hands explored her body roughly, occasionally grabbing her hair to pull her closer, using it to guide her movements.
As Asif loomed over the scene, his presence undeniably imposing, he leaned in close to Ananya, his voice a low, seductive rumble. " Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Ananya?" His question, loaded with anticipation, made her eyes widen with a mix of fear and curiosity. She hesitated, shaking her head gently, her breathing quickening with every second.
Grinning broadly, Asif's tone turned confidently playful, "Let’s change that tonight" His words, filled with a dark promise, hung in the air, thick with impending change.
Ketan's stomach churned as he witnessed this exchange, the air around him seeming to thicken. Ananya, the woman he had married, had always kept one thing sacred—her anal virginity. It was her final no, a boundary she had never let him cross. Yet now, under Asif's dominant influence, she seemed poised to give away what she had staunchly denied her husband. The stark realization that these men were about to claim what he had never been permitted access to carved through him like a betrayal sharpened into a physical ache.
As Ananya adjusted to Anand's size inside her, Asif prepared her for what was to come. He applied a generous amount of lube to her anus, his fingers circling the tight entrance before slowly pushing inside. Ananya tensed at the sensation, unfamiliar and intense, flinched slightly, but Asif’s steady hands calmed her nerves. "Just relax and let it happen," he whispered into her ear.
As Anand firmly held Ananya from beneath, Asif positioned himself at her rear, his tip pressing against her slick, trembling entrance. Ananya’s face contorted with apprehension as she felt the pressure begin to build. "Please, mat karo, ( Please don’t)" she whispered, her voice tinged with fear. "It won't go…. bahut mota hai aapka.(Your’s is quite thick)"
Asif, maintaining a balance of firmness and reassurance in his voice, gently coaxed Ananya, "Just relax and breathe, Ananya. I'll go slow." He applied gentle pressure at her entrance, his movements deliberate and considerate, carefully watching her reactions. As he gradually pushed forward, Ananya let out a sharp cry, "Haaaaaaayyy… maaaar daaalaaa," (Oh Goddddddd) overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.
Only the head of her cock had gone in till now. Her next plea was filled with desperation, "Please, bahar nikalo… mai marr jaungi!" (Please, take it out… I’ll die!) Her body tensed up dramatically, instinctively trying to resist the deep intrusion. Asif's hands were steady and comforting on her hips, holding her with a gentle but unyielding grip. He paused, giving her time to get used to the unfamiliar stretch and fullness, his expression one of concentrated patience.
Below her, Anand continued his movements, his thrusts soft but steady, helping to distract her from the discomfort. This rhythmic motion from beneath provided a counterbalance to the pressure she felt from Asif, helping to ease her into the dual sensations.
"Shhh.. aaraam se," (Shhh... take it easy) Asif whispered soothingly, maintaining his position but stopping any further movement to allow Ananya to adjust. His voice was a soft murmur against the backdrop of Ananya's labored breaths. As the initial shock of pain began to subside, replaced gradually by a conflicting mix of discomfort and budding arousal, Ananya's loud cries mellowed into low, drawn-out whimpers.
With each passing moment, as she began to relax slightly, Asif resumed his movements, inching forward ever so slowly. Each of his cautious thrusts was measured and mindful, designed to acclimate her gently to his size. This careful approach allowed Ananya to gradually accommodate the new experience, her whimpers turning into gasps of lessened resistance, marking the slow transformation of her pain into a complex tapestry of pain and pleasure.
Asif, feeling how tight she was, shouted over to Ketan, "Iski gaand itni tight hai… Tune kabhi chodi nahi? (Her ass is so tight... haven't you ever fucked her there?) We’re doing her a favour, aren’t we?" His voice was mocking, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, emphasizing the humiliation with a smirk.
Ananya's whimpers slowly threaded a line between pain and emerging pleasure. "Ahhh, dukh rha hai," ("Ahh, it's painful,") she cried, tears brimming in her eyes from the intensity. Despite her discomfort, Asif’s movements remained slow and steady, calculated to ease her strain. Gradually, her sobs intermingled with deeper, more rhythmic moans, a sign of her body beginning to adapt. "Oh my God, please...dheere, please…" ("Please, slow... slow, please…") she pleaded, her voice quivering with each gentle thrust.
As Asif and Anand carefully coordinated their actions, they allowed Ananya the necessary moments to acclimate to the dual penetration. Her initial cries of "Please stop, it's too much," gradually shifted as the sharp sting of pain began to blend into a tapestry of deep, all-consuming sensations. As her body relaxed, the initial resistance faded, morphing into cries that echoed a complex mix of pain and pleasure.
"Ohhh, that’s... Ahhhh... keep going…" Ananya moaned softly, marking a significant shift. Her voice, once tense with apprehension, now trembled with a burning need for more, a testament to her adapting to and eventually embracing the intense and profound sensations Asif and Anand were eliciting from her. This shift from pained resistance to eager acceptance was palpable, her moans growing louder and filled with a raw, primal urgency that filled the room with the undeniable sound of her transformation.
As Asif felt Ananya's responses grow more positive, he began to move a bit faster and inserted 80% of his cock.. Ananya's moans got louder, sounding both shocked and happy. "Ahhhh! Oh my God, yes... " she cried out, her voice filled with surprise and pleasure.
.
The room filled with the sounds of their animalistic moans. Underneath Ananya, Anand's big hands roamed over her body, following the lines of her sweaty skin. With every move he made, he pulled her closer, making the bed creak under their combined movements. Anand kissed and gently bit her nipples, first softly, then with more force, making Ananya cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Ahhhhhhhhhh, gently please," she whispered, her voice weak and desperate, but her words seemed to make Anand bite even harder, drawing out a soft whimper that echoed around the room.
As Ananya's body rocked and twisted from their attention, the sounds of her bangles kept up, clinking softly but steadily. The delicate noise of the bangles mingled with her continuous cries and the rhythmic creaking of the bed, adding to the intensity of the scene.
Above her, Asif was equally assertive. He stood over her, his hand entwined in her hair, pulling her head back to bare her throat. He spanked her ass sharply, the sound crisp and echoing, contrasting starkly with her cries. "You like that, don’t you?" Asif's voice was heavy with desire. Ananya nodded, unable to speak, moaning instead as Asif aligned her body to meet his forceful thrusts accurately. "Please, go slow," she managed to gasp, but Asif grunted and momentarily slowed before quickening his pace again, challenging her endurance.
The smell of arousal filled the air, the intensity of the moment palpable. Asif’s spanking left red marks on Ananya’s skin, each hit making her cry out, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Her body was a display of raw, erotic art, marked by the touch of her lovers. Anand continued to leave his mark, sucking along her collarbone, creating a path of soon-to-be bruises. His other hand gripped her hips tightly, leaving impressions in her skin.
As Asif drove into Ananya from behind, he grabbed her mangalsutra, using it to pull her back against each of his powerful thrusts. The tension of the chain against her neck forced gasps and cries from her with every movement. "Ahhhhhhh! Please, slower!" she pleaded, but her requests only seemed to ignite Asif's intensity.
Suddenly, the mangalsutra snapped from the strain, the chain breaking with a sharp crack. Asif, without missing a beat, tossed the broken pieces towards Ketan, who caught them reflexively, the metallic clink stark against the ongoing moans. Ananya, now unrestrained, was left to the mercy of the relentless pace set by Asif and Anand, her body shaking under the dual assault as her moans escalated into screams of mixed pain and pleasure. "Ahhhhhh! Mmhhh mhhhh!" she cried out, her voice breaking as she navigated the thin line between pain and ecstasy.
Holding the broken pieces of the mangalsutra in my hand, I couldn't help but stare at the chaotic scene unfolding before me. My wife, Ananya, had transformed into a slut. The symbol of our marriage, now just a set of broken beads, seemed to punctuate the reality of her transformation into something I never anticipated—a complete and insatiable slut. As Asif and Anand used her between them, her moans and pleas echoed through the room, a stark soundtrack to her unbridled lust.
Despite the humiliation and betrayal, I felt a strange heat building within me. My erection twitched, dripping precum as I watched Ananya. She moved with a hunger I had never seen in her before. As the two men used her, all thoughts of our marriage vows weighed on me. Yet, there I was, strangely aroused by the sight that should have disgusted me. My body's reaction was a stark betrayal, showing the twisted pleasure I found in seeing my own humiliation. Every twitch of my cock matched the rhythm of Asif’s thrusts into her, mirroring the act that was destroying my pride in our marriage.
Without a word, Anand walked over to Ananya, his cocky stride reflecting his confidence. "Ketan, clean us up" he barked, his tone dismissive as he gestured towards Ananya's face and his own slick erection. There was no cloth in sight, no other fabric to use, so, feeling a deep sense of humiliation, I grabbed Ananya’s black lace bra from the floor. It was slightly stiff with dried fluids, a stark reminder of the night's debauchery.
I approached Ananya slowly avoiding her eyes, holding the bra in trembling hands. First, I gently wiped her face, removing the sticky traces from her cheeks and chin. Each stroke of the fabric over her skin felt intimate and shaming, the act itself a perverse kind of caretaking that twisted in my gut. Then, with a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, I moved to Anand. His erection bobbed slightly as I hesitantly touched it with the bra, wiping off Simran’s juices. The fabric slid over his length, a move that made me flinch internally, each pass a silent testament to my own inadequacies.
Ananya watched quietly, her eyes heavy with a mix of fatigue and blissful satisfaction. Her gaze held a new look—one of complete surrender to the night’s wild turn of events, a far cry from any expression I had ever seen on her face before.
Once cleaned, Ananya shifted her focus back to Anand, who was lying flat on the bed. She crawled towards him, her every movement heavy yet fluid with seductive intent. Aligning herself with him, she paused, looking back at me one last time with those changed, deep eyes, then lowered herself onto his cock. Her moan was slow and deep, filled with a pleasure so intense it filled the room.
Her hips began to move in earnest, her moans punctuating the air with each of Anand's thrusts. His hands explored her body roughly, occasionally grabbing her hair to pull her closer, using it to guide her movements.
As Asif loomed over the scene, his presence undeniably imposing, he leaned in close to Ananya, his voice a low, seductive rumble. " Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Ananya?" His question, loaded with anticipation, made her eyes widen with a mix of fear and curiosity. She hesitated, shaking her head gently, her breathing quickening with every second.
Grinning broadly, Asif's tone turned confidently playful, "Let’s change that tonight" His words, filled with a dark promise, hung in the air, thick with impending change.
Ketan's stomach churned as he witnessed this exchange, the air around him seeming to thicken. Ananya, the woman he had married, had always kept one thing sacred—her anal virginity. It was her final no, a boundary she had never let him cross. Yet now, under Asif's dominant influence, she seemed poised to give away what she had staunchly denied her husband. The stark realization that these men were about to claim what he had never been permitted access to carved through him like a betrayal sharpened into a physical ache.
As Ananya adjusted to Anand's size inside her, Asif prepared her for what was to come. He applied a generous amount of lube to her anus, his fingers circling the tight entrance before slowly pushing inside. Ananya tensed at the sensation, unfamiliar and intense, flinched slightly, but Asif’s steady hands calmed her nerves. "Just relax and let it happen," he whispered into her ear.
As Anand firmly held Ananya from beneath, Asif positioned himself at her rear, his tip pressing against her slick, trembling entrance. Ananya’s face contorted with apprehension as she felt the pressure begin to build. "Please, mat karo, ( Please don’t)" she whispered, her voice tinged with fear. "It won't go…. bahut mota hai aapka.(Your’s is quite thick)"
Asif, maintaining a balance of firmness and reassurance in his voice, gently coaxed Ananya, "Just relax and breathe, Ananya. I'll go slow." He applied gentle pressure at her entrance, his movements deliberate and considerate, carefully watching her reactions. As he gradually pushed forward, Ananya let out a sharp cry, "Haaaaaaayyy… maaaar daaalaaa," (Oh Goddddddd) overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.
Only the head of her cock had gone in till now. Her next plea was filled with desperation, "Please, bahar nikalo… mai marr jaungi!" (Please, take it out… I’ll die!) Her body tensed up dramatically, instinctively trying to resist the deep intrusion. Asif's hands were steady and comforting on her hips, holding her with a gentle but unyielding grip. He paused, giving her time to get used to the unfamiliar stretch and fullness, his expression one of concentrated patience.
Below her, Anand continued his movements, his thrusts soft but steady, helping to distract her from the discomfort. This rhythmic motion from beneath provided a counterbalance to the pressure she felt from Asif, helping to ease her into the dual sensations.
"Shhh.. aaraam se," (Shhh... take it easy) Asif whispered soothingly, maintaining his position but stopping any further movement to allow Ananya to adjust. His voice was a soft murmur against the backdrop of Ananya's labored breaths. As the initial shock of pain began to subside, replaced gradually by a conflicting mix of discomfort and budding arousal, Ananya's loud cries mellowed into low, drawn-out whimpers.
With each passing moment, as she began to relax slightly, Asif resumed his movements, inching forward ever so slowly. Each of his cautious thrusts was measured and mindful, designed to acclimate her gently to his size. This careful approach allowed Ananya to gradually accommodate the new experience, her whimpers turning into gasps of lessened resistance, marking the slow transformation of her pain into a complex tapestry of pain and pleasure.
Asif, feeling how tight she was, shouted over to Ketan, "Iski gaand itni tight hai… Tune kabhi chodi nahi? (Her ass is so tight... haven't you ever fucked her there?) We’re doing her a favour, aren’t we?" His voice was mocking, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, emphasizing the humiliation with a smirk.
Ananya's whimpers slowly threaded a line between pain and emerging pleasure. "Ahhh, dukh rha hai," ("Ahh, it's painful,") she cried, tears brimming in her eyes from the intensity. Despite her discomfort, Asif’s movements remained slow and steady, calculated to ease her strain. Gradually, her sobs intermingled with deeper, more rhythmic moans, a sign of her body beginning to adapt. "Oh my God, please...dheere, please…" ("Please, slow... slow, please…") she pleaded, her voice quivering with each gentle thrust.
As Asif and Anand carefully coordinated their actions, they allowed Ananya the necessary moments to acclimate to the dual penetration. Her initial cries of "Please stop, it's too much," gradually shifted as the sharp sting of pain began to blend into a tapestry of deep, all-consuming sensations. As her body relaxed, the initial resistance faded, morphing into cries that echoed a complex mix of pain and pleasure.
"Ohhh, that’s... Ahhhh... keep going…" Ananya moaned softly, marking a significant shift. Her voice, once tense with apprehension, now trembled with a burning need for more, a testament to her adapting to and eventually embracing the intense and profound sensations Asif and Anand were eliciting from her. This shift from pained resistance to eager acceptance was palpable, her moans growing louder and filled with a raw, primal urgency that filled the room with the undeniable sound of her transformation.
As Asif felt Ananya's responses grow more positive, he began to move a bit faster and inserted 80% of his cock.. Ananya's moans got louder, sounding both shocked and happy. "Ahhhh! Oh my God, yes... " she cried out, her voice filled with surprise and pleasure.
.
The room filled with the sounds of their animalistic moans. Underneath Ananya, Anand's big hands roamed over her body, following the lines of her sweaty skin. With every move he made, he pulled her closer, making the bed creak under their combined movements. Anand kissed and gently bit her nipples, first softly, then with more force, making Ananya cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Ahhhhhhhhhh, gently please," she whispered, her voice weak and desperate, but her words seemed to make Anand bite even harder, drawing out a soft whimper that echoed around the room.
As Ananya's body rocked and twisted from their attention, the sounds of her bangles kept up, clinking softly but steadily. The delicate noise of the bangles mingled with her continuous cries and the rhythmic creaking of the bed, adding to the intensity of the scene.
Above her, Asif was equally assertive. He stood over her, his hand entwined in her hair, pulling her head back to bare her throat. He spanked her ass sharply, the sound crisp and echoing, contrasting starkly with her cries. "You like that, don’t you?" Asif's voice was heavy with desire. Ananya nodded, unable to speak, moaning instead as Asif aligned her body to meet his forceful thrusts accurately. "Please, go slow," she managed to gasp, but Asif grunted and momentarily slowed before quickening his pace again, challenging her endurance.
The smell of arousal filled the air, the intensity of the moment palpable. Asif’s spanking left red marks on Ananya’s skin, each hit making her cry out, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Her body was a display of raw, erotic art, marked by the touch of her lovers. Anand continued to leave his mark, sucking along her collarbone, creating a path of soon-to-be bruises. His other hand gripped her hips tightly, leaving impressions in her skin.
As Asif drove into Ananya from behind, he grabbed her mangalsutra, using it to pull her back against each of his powerful thrusts. The tension of the chain against her neck forced gasps and cries from her with every movement. "Ahhhhhhh! Please, slower!" she pleaded, but her requests only seemed to ignite Asif's intensity.
Suddenly, the mangalsutra snapped from the strain, the chain breaking with a sharp crack. Asif, without missing a beat, tossed the broken pieces towards Ketan, who caught them reflexively, the metallic clink stark against the ongoing moans. Ananya, now unrestrained, was left to the mercy of the relentless pace set by Asif and Anand, her body shaking under the dual assault as her moans escalated into screams of mixed pain and pleasure. "Ahhhhhh! Mmhhh mhhhh!" she cried out, her voice breaking as she navigated the thin line between pain and ecstasy.
Holding the broken pieces of the mangalsutra in my hand, I couldn't help but stare at the chaotic scene unfolding before me. My wife, Ananya, had transformed into a slut. The symbol of our marriage, now just a set of broken beads, seemed to punctuate the reality of her transformation into something I never anticipated—a complete and insatiable slut. As Asif and Anand used her between them, her moans and pleas echoed through the room, a stark soundtrack to her unbridled lust.
Despite the humiliation and betrayal, I felt a strange heat building within me. My erection twitched, dripping precum as I watched Ananya. She moved with a hunger I had never seen in her before. As the two men used her, all thoughts of our marriage vows weighed on me. Yet, there I was, strangely aroused by the sight that should have disgusted me. My body's reaction was a stark betrayal, showing the twisted pleasure I found in seeing my own humiliation. Every twitch of my cock matched the rhythm of Asif’s thrusts into her, mirroring the act that was destroying my pride in our marriage.
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