30-03-2025, 03:16 PM
Tharun begins to fall for Shruti but his dick fucked Sunita to forget the fact he is falling for Shruti.
But the more he tried to escape his feelings through physical distractions, the more persistent they became. Sunita meant nothing to him—just a body to lose himself in when thoughts of Shruti became overwhelming.
After their encounter, he lay staring at the ceiling, Sunita's soft breathing beside him doing nothing to calm his racing mind. He'd known Shruti only for few weeks, and started to work alongside her daily, shared lunch breaks and office jokes. When had those friendly feelings transformed into something deeper?
"You're quiet," Sunita murmured, running her fingers across his chest.
"Just tired," he lied, already planning his excuse to leave.
His phone buzzed. A message from Shruti asking if he'd like to go to nishiki market as they were just keading back to tokyo from kyoto.
Jegan Sunita’s husband was sitting there watching Tharun leave.
He knew it was wrong to use Sunita this way, but the confusion in his heart left him desperate for distraction. Each time he closed his eyes, Shruti's smile haunted him, her laughter echoing in his mind long after their conversations ended.
"What are we doing?" Sunita asked, her voice cutting through the darkness. She propped herself up on one elbow, studying his face. "You're somewhere else."
"It's Shruti, isn't it?" Sunita's question wasn't really a question at all.
He nodded slowly, shame washing over him.
"You should go to her, don’t fall in love. You should fuck her asap" Sunita smiled at Tharun knowing he is a playboy.
Tharun got ready to pick up Shruti and they walked to the Kyoto station.
The bustling station was packed with tourists and locals alike, their chatter creating a constant hum that somehow made Tharun feel even more alone with his thoughts. Shruti walked beside him, her perfume occasionally wafting his way when the crowd pushed them closer together.
"I didn't expect you to actually come," she said, smiling up at him. "You seemed distracted when we messaged earlier."
Tharun swallowed hard, guilt and desire warring within him. Just thirty minutes ago, he'd been in Sunita's bed, and now here he was, heart racing at the mere proximity of Shruti.
"I wouldn't miss it," he managed. "Tokyo's different when you see it with someone who appreciates it."
Their train arrived, sleek and punctual as everything else in Japan. They found seats together, knees occasionally touching as the train rocked along the tracks. The countryside gradually transformed into the dense urban sprawl of Tokyo, mirroring Tharun's internal landscape—wild, conflicted, and increasingly claustrophobic.
"You seem troubled," Shruti observed, her eyes studying his face with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. "Is everything okay?"
"Just work stress," he lied, avoiding her gaze. How could he tell her that her very presence was tearing him apart inside? That he was caught between raw desire and something deeper that terrified him?
Nishiki Market emerged before them in all its sensory glory—a narrow, covered shopping street lined with hundreds of shops and restaurants. The scent of fresh seafood, sweet taiyaki, and savory yakitori filled the air. Colorful displays of pickled vegetables and exotic fruits created a kaleidoscope effect that momentarily distracted Tharun from his inner turmoil.
The market is a bustling hub of activity, with vendors shouting and customers haggling. The colorful stalls are filled with fresh seafood, vibrant fruits and vegetables, and enticing displays of various Japanese dishes.
The Tsukiji Outer Market is a bustling and vibrant hub of activity, with bright neon signs illuminating the narrow street and vendors selling an array of colorful produce and seafood.
Tsukiji Outer Market is a bustling street filled with vibrant colors and movement. The shops and restaurants line the narrow street, their signs jutting out overhead, each one competing for attention with bright lights and bold designs. People of all ages and backgrounds crowd the walkways, their eyes alight with curiosity and anticipation as they peruse the market's offerings.
Shruti joked, poking Tharun's arm as they passed a stall selling octopus skewers. "Adventurous enough to try one?"
"I'll try anything once," he replied, grateful for the distraction. The vendor handed them two skewers, and Tharun watched Shruti's face scrunch in determination as she took a tentative bite.
Their fingers brushed as he paid, sending an electric current up his arm. This wasn't like the practiced touches he'd exchanged with Sunita or countless others. This was accidental, innocent, and somehow more intimate than anything he'd experienced before.
They wandered deeper into the market, stopping occasionally to sample street food or admire handcrafted items. In a quiet moment between stalls, Shruti turned to him.
"Can I ask you something personal?" Her voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the market's ambient, it was about last night and she knew about Sunita and she knew she’s married to Jegan.
Tharun's heart hammered against his ribs. The noise of the market seemed to fade away, leaving only Shruti's question hanging in the air between them. His mouth went dry.
"How did you—"
"It's a small community, Tharun," she said, her eyes not accusatory but sad. "Word travels, especially among expats. I've heard things about you and Sunita for weeks."
He looked down at the crowded street, shame burning his cheeks. "I didn't think you knew."
"That's not even the worst part," Shruti continued, her voice barely audible above the market noise. "I saw Jegan this morning. He was at the hotel bar when I came down for breakfast. He looked right at me and raised his glass." She shivered despite the warm evening. "He knows about us being here together."
“There is something about me you should know, I am not the romantic guy that sticks with one girl.”
Shruti's face remained impassive, but something flickered in her eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or recognition of a truth she'd already suspected.
"I see," she said quietly. "Is that why you're here with me? Just another conquest?"
The question stung more than Tharun expected. He'd prepared this speech for countless women before, but delivering it to Shruti felt like swallowing broken glass.
"It's not like that," he said, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. Around them, market-goers continued their sensory journey, oblivious to the intimate conversation unfolding in their midst. "With you, it's... different."
Shruti let out a small, humorless laugh. "I've heard that one before." She turned away, pretending to examine a display of hand-painted chopsticks. Her saree briefly revealing her smooth midriff and her immaculate right breast, tightly packed in her blouse.
Tharun's gaze lingered on her form, his mind torn between habitual desire and something deeper that scared him more than any confrontation with Jegan ever could.
"Look," he said, stepping closer so they wouldn't be overheard, "I've never claimed to be a good man. But I'm being honest with you now, which is more than I've been with myself lately."
Shruti turned back to him, her eyes searching his face. "And what exactly is the truth, Tharun? That you sleep with married women while pursuing others? That you're incapable of genuine connection?"
Her words cut through his practiced defenses. In the kaleidoscopic lights of the market, surrounded by the press of strangers, Tharun felt strangely exposed.
"The truth is that when I'm with you, I forget the script," he admitted.
“Are you saying, you won’t fuck me then?” She asked locking into his eyes.
The question hung between them like a physical thing, cutting through the market noise. Tharun felt his carefully constructed world tilting on its axis. For years, he'd moved from woman to woman with practiced ease, his charm and detachment a well-honed combination. But Shruti's directness left him momentarily speechless.
"Is that what you think this is about?" he finally managed, his voice low. "Just sex?"
"Isn't it always with you?" Her eyes remained locked on his, challenging. "I've heard enough stories, Tharun. Your reputation precedes you."
A group of tourists pushed past them, momentarily separating them in the narrow market corridor. When they came together again, they were standing closer than before.
"You're right about my past," he admitted. "But you're wrong about what's happening now."
Shruti crossed her arms. "Enlighten me," she challenged, one eyebrow raised.
The market's cacophony faded to a distant hum as Tharun struggled to articulate feelings he barely understood himself. This wasn't the familiar territory of seduction and conquest—this was something raw and uncomfortable.
"I don't know how to explain it," he said finally. "With others—with Sunita—I always know exactly what I'm doing. It's a game with rules I've mastered." He paused, searching for words. "With you, I keep forgetting the rules. I keep wanting things I've spent years avoiding."
"Like what?" Her voice had softened slightly, but her guard remained firmly in place.
"Like conversation that matters. Like waking up next to someone and not immediately planning my escape." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated by his own inability to articulate the chaos she'd created in his carefully ordered life.
"I don't know what this is, but it's real."
The skepticism in Shruti's eyes hadn't completely disappeared, but something else joined it—curiosity, perhaps.
"Words come easily to men like you," she said quietly.
Tharun looked around at the bustling market, the fluorescent lights illuminating their faces in harsh, unforgiving clarity. This wasn't the place for what he needed to say, what he needed to show her.
"Come with me," he said suddenly, taking her hand. The touch sent an electric current through his palm that had nothing to do with physical desire.
"Where?" she asked, hesitating.
"Just trust me. For ten minutes."
After a moment's consideration, she nodded, allowing him to lead her through the crowded market and out onto the less congested side streets of Tokyo. The neon lights of the main drag faded behind them as they walked in silence, their footsteps a quiet rhythm against the pavement. The night air was cool against Shruti's skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy market.
Tharun led her through narrow alleyways adorned with lanterns and past small eateries where locals huddled over steaming bowls. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, navigating the labyrinthine streets with surprising confidence for a foreigner.
Finally, they emerged onto a small pedestrian bridge spanning a canal. The water below reflected the city lights, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced across the surface. It was surprisingly quiet here, the urban chaos reduced to a distant murmur.
"This is where I come when the city gets too loud," Tharun said, releasing her hand and leaning against the railing. "I found it by accident my second day in Tokyo."
Shruti joined him at the railing, her arms folded protectively across her chest. "It's beautiful," she admitted.
"When I was twenty-two, I had everything mapped out," Tharun said, his eyes fixed on the rippling water below. "Career trajectory, retirement plan, even the neighborhood where I'd buy my first property. I executed that plan perfectly for years."
"And now?" Shruti's voice was barely audible above the gentle lapping of water against the canal walls.
"Now I'm standing on a bridge in Tokyo with a woman who challenges everything I thought I knew about myself." He turned to face her. "I don't have words for this because I've never felt it before. That terrifies me, but it also feels like... waking up."
The skepticism in Shruti's eyes softened. "I didn't come to judge you, I kind of like you but I don’t wa.. “ before she can finish her sentence Tharun gently placed his finger on her lips. The touch was light, almost reverent, and Shruti's words died in her throat.
"I know what you're going to say," he whispered. "That we're too different. That I'm too calculated and you're too spontaneous. That this is just a vacation fling." He lowered his hand. "Maybe you're right."
A boat passed beneath them, creating ripples that distorted the reflected lights. Shruti watched the patterns reform, gathering her thoughts.
"That wasn't what I was going to say," she finally replied. "I was going to say I don't want to be someone's awakening. I don't want to be your manic pixie dream girl who shows the serious businessman how to live." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been that before. It doesn't end well."
Tharun stepped closer, the space between them charged with something more complex than mere attraction. The distant city lights cast half-shadows across her face, illuminating the curve of her cheek, the slight furrow of her brow.
"I'm not asking you to be my awakening," he said softly. "I'm just asking you to be here, now, with me. No expectations. No scripts."
A gentle breeze stirred the air around them, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms from a nearby garden. Below, the canal water lapped rhythmically against stone walls, a sound like whispered secrets.
"And what happens when we return to real life?" Shruti asked, her voice barely audible above the water's gentle percussion. "When Tokyo becomes just photos on our phones and stories we tell at dinner parties?"
Tharun didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached closer and grabbed her face and pulled her closer, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands cradled her face with unexpected tenderness, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. The world around them seemed to freeze, the distant Tokyo noise fading into nothing.
When their lips met, it wasn't with the practiced expertise he'd employed countless times before. This kiss was hesitant, almost reverent. Shruti remained still for a heartbeat, then another, before her hands found his shoulders, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, transforming into something that felt dangerously like revelation. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing unevenly.
"I didn't plan that," Tharun whispered, his forehead resting against hers.
"I know," she replied. Her eyes remained closed, as if she were memorizing the sensation.
Her saree has now fallen from her shoulders and her cleavage was heaving, rising and falling with her quickened breath. Tharun felt a familiar hunger rising within him, but this time accompanied by something unfamiliar—a tenderness that made him want to both possess and protect her.
"We should go somewhere," he said, his voice husky with desire.
Shruti nodded, her eyes reflecting the dancing lights of the canal. "Your hotel or mine?"
"Mine is closer," he replied, taking her hand again.
They walked in charged silence through the Tokyo streets, the neon signs and late-night revelers creating a dreamlike backdrop to their journey. In the elevator of his hotel, they stood apart, the air between them electric with anticipation. When the doors finally closed, Tharun pulled her against him, his lips finding hers with newfound urgency.
By the time they reached his room, Shruti's saree was already loosened, her hair falling in disarray around her face. The door had barely closed behind them when he pressed her against it, his mouth hot against her neck, his hands exploring the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her blouse.
"Wait," she whispered, placing her hands against his chest. "I need to know something first."
Tharun pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged. "Anything."
"Is this just physical for you?" The vulnerability in her eyes cut through his desire, forcing him to confront the question he'd been avoiding since they'd met.
He took a step back, running his hand through his hair. "If I said yes, would you leave?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I'd rather know the truth now than discover it later."
The room felt suddenly too small, too warm. Outside the window, Tokyo's skyline glittered like scattered stars.
“I feel like it’s physical for me, at least for now”
Shruti hesitated, but she wanted to know what the infamous playboy Tharun is all about and what he’s packing. Curiosity got thr best of her.
She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "At least you're honest."
"I've been many things in my life, but I'm trying to be honest now," he said, stepping closer again. "I don't know what this is between us. I just know I want to explore it."
Shruti reached up and began unwinding her saree, her movements deliberate and unhurried. The silk whispered as it fell away, pooling at her feet in a puddle of color. Beneath, her blouse clung to her curves, the hooks barely containing what lay beneath.
"Then explore," she said simply.
Tharun's hands trembled slightly as he reached for her—a new sensation for a man accustomed to calculated seduction. He worked at the hooks of her blouse with uncharacteristic clumsiness, his usual finesse abandoned in the face of genuine desire.
“I always wanted to taste these” he stared into her tight blouse.
Tharun placed his skillfull hands on her first hook and started undoing her blouse.
When the last hook finally gave way, revealing her bare skin to the cool air of the hotel room, Tharun felt a surge of something more powerful than mere lust. Shruti's breasts were fuller than he'd imagined, her skin glowing golden in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping before he could filter them through his usual calculated charm.
Shruti smiled, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes as she stood before him, partially undressed. "Your turn," she said softly.
Tharun removed his shirt, watching her eyes travel across his chest. The practiced confidence that had served him through countless encounters suddenly felt inadequate, replaced by an almost adolescent nervousness.
They moved to the bed, their remaining clothes discarded along the way. Each touch felt different—more electric, more meaningful—than anything in his considerable experience.
Shruti's laced bra fell away, revealing breasts that drew an appreciative murmur from Tharun's lips. His hands cupped them with reverence, thumbs brushing across her hardened nipples as she arched into his touch. The practiced moves he'd perfected with countless women before her seemed hollow now, replaced by an urgent desire to know her—truly know her—in ways that transcended the physical.
"I want to taste every inch of you," he whispered against her collarbone, trailing kisses down the valley between her breasts.
Shruti's fingers tangled in his hair, her breathing quickening as his mouth moved lower, across the soft plane of her stomach, to the edge of her petticoat. He paused there, looking up at her, seeking permission in a way he never had before.
"Yes," she breathed, lifting her hips slightly
Tharun slowly unwrapped her petticoat, revealing the delicate lace of her underwear beneath. His fingers hooked into the waistband, sliding the final barrier down her legs with deliberate slowness. The sight of her fully naked before him made his breath catch—not because he hadn't seen beautiful women before, but because the vulnerability in her eyes transformed the moment into something sacred.
He lowered his mouth to her inner thigh, placing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, working his way upward with maddening patience. When his tongue finally found her center, Shruti gasped, her back arching off the bed. Her fingers clutched the sheets as he explored her with his mouth, learning the rhythm and pressure that made her breath quicken and her thighs tremble.
"Tharun," she moaned, the sound of his name on her lips sending a surge.
“I want to taste you” he slowly made his way
His tongue teased her entrance, circling the sensitive bud before delving deeper, drinking in her essence with growing hunger. Each moan that escaped her lips fueled his desire, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her closer to his mouth.
Shruti writhed beneath him, her inhibitions dissolving with each expert flick of his tongue. This wasn't the calculated technique of a practiced seducer—this was raw hunger, a man discovering something precious for the first time.
"I need you," she gasped, tugging at his shoulders. "Now."
Tharun moved up her body, his lips finding hers in a kiss that tasted of her own arousal. He positioned himself between her thighs, the tip of his hardness pressing against her entrance. For a moment, he hesitated, looking into her eyes.
"Are you sure?" he whispered.
Her answer was to wrap her legs around his waist, drawing him toward her. "More sure than I've been about anything in a long time."
“I want to see what all the fuzz is about," Shruti said, her voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation. She bit her lip, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she continued, "All the women talk about your... thing," the words escaping almost like a confession, tinged with something like awe.
She paused, a fleeting moment of insecurity flickering in her eyes. But Shruti was not the kind of woman to hide behind timidity; she wanted to know fully what drew so many others before her, what made him legendary in that most intimate of ways. Her boldness returned, and she let out a soft, nervous laugh that danced like a dare through the charged air between them.
"And I want to see it,” she finished, her voice steadier now, challenging him to reveal the truths and myths that had preceded their meeting.
The challenge in her words surprised him. It awakened something dormant, something he both feared and craved. A smile spread across his face, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the promise held within her brazen curiosity. He leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers, and let the charged air crackle with what was to come.
A man like Tharun had never needed to prove himself with more than a sly smile and a knowing touch, but this was different. She had dared him, and he accepted it with a fervor that felt almost adolescent in its intensity. Her flush deepened as his hands moved to his waistband, the anticipation between them almost tangible.
With a deliberate and sensual slowness, he pushed his pants down over his hips, revealing himself to her in a way that was both vulnerable and triumphant. Her eyes widened, and he reveled in the unspoken validation her gaze provided.
He was ready to feel her in ways that transcended his physical reputation, and the acceptance of her challenge burned like a promise in the space between them.
"Then you must see," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with promise and mischief. He stood before her with the poise of a conquering hero, a figure of masculine grace and power that seemed to fill the room. Shruti watched, her breath catching in anticipation, as his hands slid down his pants, the slow reveal almost teasing in its deliberateness.
When he finally stepped out of the last bit of clothing, he stood naked before her like a Greek god, sculpted and magnificent. Her eyes widened as they traveled the length of him, drinking in every inch. Tharun marveled at the expression on her face—equal parts amazement and desire—and felt a surge of satisfaction mingled with a new and deeper emotion.
His cock was like a lingam, proud and unyielding, the embodiment of every whispered rumor and breathless confession that haunted his reputation.
Shruti bit her lips as her mouth watered and she was embarrassed to admit she wanted a taste.
She had never been with a man like Tharun before, and the thrill of his legendary prowess made her feel like an eager girl on the brink of discovery. She was surprised by just how much she wanted him and just how intensely she wanted to know him on her terms, to experience the man behind the myth in the most intimate of ways.
A quiver of excitement ran through her as her curiosity deepened into something raw and primal. Her boldness surged again, consuming her hesitation as she spoke with a candor that left no room for misunderstanding.
"I want to taste that," she said, the words rushing out in a breathless confession that hovered between them. The admission hung in the air like a challenge, and she reveled in the freedom of naming her desire without shame. Her voice had a tremor of urgency, the anticipation building to a delicious crescendo.
Shruti marveled at the audacity of her own longing, the blush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest, a visible testament to her need. She watched his face, searching for his reaction, her heart pounding with the thrill of the moment.
Her lips parted slightly, inviting, as she imagined what it would feel like to take him into her mouth, to make him shudder and lose control in a way that was new even for him. The idea filled her with a sense of power and promise, of claiming a part of him that went beyond physical conquest.
The intensity of wanting overwhelmed her, and she was unashamed of how it made her pulse with desire.
Tharun moved closer to Shruti’s mouth.
“yes, I want to taste that..” she used the word - that - as if it had a life on its own and she meant to consume it.
Her eyes blazed with a hunger that seemed to break free from the confines of her body, as if wanting more than he even thought possible. She was insistent, demanding to know him in ways that transcended mere physical conquest. The intensity of her need filled the room, leaving little space for anything else. She wanted him with an urgency that was almost tangible, a burning desire to taste him, claim him, make him hers.
Tharun positioned his cock right in front of her eager lips. His shaft was thick and pulsing, the veins pronounced under the taut skin. Shruti's breath was warm against him as she hesitated for just a moment, savoring the anticipation.
Her tongue darted out first, a tentative taste that sent electricity through his body. Emboldened by his sharp intake of breath, she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching to accommodate his girth. The sensation was overwhelming—wet heat enveloping him as her tongue traced patterns along his length.
She pulled back, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and determination as she looked at his cock again. "So... big..." she exclaimed, her words filled with wonder and a hint of incredulity.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips, the sound light and thrilling as it left her breathless. She marveled at the sheer size, the thickness that seemed almost impossible, her gaze fixated on him with a blend of admiration and disbelief.
“Wow,” she murmured, the word almost swallowed by her own excitement as she tilted her head, studying every inch of him with unabashed curiosity. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, fingers barely meeting as she squeezed gently, feeling the pulse beneath her grip. Tharun watched her, mesmerized by the transformation of her initial hesitance into bold exploration. He reveled in the way her cheeks flushed and her breath quickened, her body a canvas of eager anticipation.
Shruti's eyes met his for a fleeting moment, a silent communication passing between them before she leaned forward once more. She nuzzled her nose against him, the intimate gesture sending a jolt through his body. Her mouth hovered above the tip, teasing with her warm breath, a delicious torment of near contact.
Tharun's hand found her hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands. Not guiding, not controlling, but connecting—anchoring himself to her as pleasure surged through him in waves. The sight of her taking him so eagerly, her eyes occasionally flickering up to meet his, was almost his undoing.
"Shruti," he groaned, and gently pushed her face down his shaft, guiding her deeper.
She took him as far as she could, her throat constricting around his tip as she struggled to accommodate his size. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the effort, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks, creating a vacuum of pleasure that made Tharun's knees weaken.
"God," he breathed, his voice strained. "You're incredible."
Shruti's lips curved into a smile around him, her eyes dancing with mischief as she set a rhythm that had him grasping at the sheets for stability. Her hands joined her mouth in the effort, one wrapped around what she couldn't swallow, the other gently cupping him below.
The expertise of her motions surprised him. This wasn't the tentative exploration he'd expected, but the confident technique of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Her mouth moved with purpose, alternating between deep, engulfing strokes and focused attention to his most sensitive spots. Each time she pulled back, her tongue would swirl around his tip before she plunged forward again, taking him deeper than before.
Tharun's breathing grew ragged, his control slipping with each passing moment. The sight of Shruti on her knees before him, her lips stretched around his girth, eyes occasionally flickering up to gauge his reaction—it was almost too much.
"Wait," he gasped, gently pulling away from her eager mouth.
"Not like this. I want to be inside you."
Shruti wiped her lips with the back of her hand, a gesture that was somehow both innocent and provocative. "I wasn't finished," she said, her voice husky with desire.
"Neither am I," Tharun replied, helping her to her feet. He guided her to the bed, laying her down with a gentleness that contrasted with the urgency in his eyes.
He positioned himself above her, his weight supported on his forearms as he looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?"
In answer, Shruti reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. The first push was gentle, tentative—his size requiring patience. She gasped at the sensation, her body yielding to accommodate him inch by exquisite inch.
"Oh god," she breathed, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"You're so... I can feel you everywhere."
Tharun moved slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to his size. Each thrust went deeper than the last, their bodies finding a rhythm that spoke of something beyond mere physical compatibility. His mouth found her neck, her collarbone, her breasts—tasting, exploring.
He fucked her with a fierceness that took her breath away and made the bed creak beneath them. Each movement was both urgent and unhurried, as if he intended to own every second and make it last forever. His thrusts were deep and powerful, filling her completely, making her gasp and cry out in ways that felt almost foreign to her.
Shruti arched her back, meeting him with equal fervor, her body lifting to deepen the connection between them. Every inch of her was alive, radiating with sensation that blurred the line between pleasure and something more profound. She had never felt so consumed, so immersed in another person.
The intensity wrapped around them like a cocoon, shutting out everything but the heat of his skin and the rhythm of their bodies. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more. She marveled at the delicious friction, at the way her body yielded to him, at how incredibly full she felt. He fucked her like he meant it, like he meant everything.
He flipped her over and positioned her on all fours
His hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he admired the curve of her back and the swell of her buttocks. Shruti felt vulnerable and exposed in this position, but also powerful, knowing the effect she had on him. She looked back over her shoulder, her hair cascading down her back, eyes dark with desire.
"Like this?" she whispered, arching her back further, presenting herself to him.
Tharun's answer was a deep, slow thrust that made her gasp and clutch at the sheets. From this angle, he seemed impossibly large, reaching places inside her that sent electric currents of pleasure radiating through her body. His hands explored her back, tracing the delicate line of her spine before one hand slid around to cup her breast, fingers teasing her nipple.
"You feel amazing," he murmured, the words almost a growl as the intensity of the moment heightened. He grabbed her by her waist chain, the metallic links cool against his fingers, and felt an unexpected jolt of excitement surge through him. The chain glinted provocatively, a perfect contrast to her flushed skin, and he was suddenly even more turned on by how it wrapped around her, accentuating her curves. He began to ride her with renewed vigor, the sight of it spurring him into a frenzied pace.
The chain moved against her hips in a way that drove him wild, pulling tighter with each thrust as he lost himself in her completely. His cock reached new depths, a primal rhythm taking over.
Shruti began to cum uncontrollably, almost instantly overwhelmed by the intensity of the release crashing through her.
The orgasm tore through her like an unstoppable wave, her entire body convulsing with each powerful jolt of pleasure. She cried out, the sound raw and uninhibited, as her muscles clenched around him in rhythmic pulses that seemed endless. Her vision blurred, senses overloaded by the immensity of sensation, the world contracting to the exquisite fullness inside her.
Her arms gave out and she collapsed forward, offering herself to him as he continued to drive into her with relentless, urgent strokes. Tharun felt the shudders ripple through her, the intensity of her climax speeding him toward his own. He rode her hard, unable to hold back as the waves of her orgasm pulled him deeper and deeper.
With a final thrust, he spilled into her, the force of his release leaving him breathless. They finished together, collapsing into a breathless tangle of limbs.
“sorry I didn’t have a condom”
His voice broke the heavy silence, a mix of apology and sheepishness. The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the intensity of their union, as if bringing them back to the realm of reality. He shifted slightly, his weight still pinning her down while his mind began to reckon with the implications. There was a pause as he considered the enormity of his oversight, a moment that stretched between them like a fragile thread, ready to unravel.
Then, slowly, Shruti lifted her head, her hair spilling across the sheets as she turned to face him. Her lips parted, but the words that came out were unexpected, laden with a raw honesty that matched the vulnerability of their position.
“I’m ovulating”
The admission sent a shockwave through Tharun, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He searched her face for a hint of jest, but her expression was one of sincere acknowledgment. The tension in the room shifted, transformed into something more complex—an exhilarating cocktail of anticipation and risk.
For a heartbeat, time seemed suspended, their breaths mingling in a charged stillness. Then Shruti's mouth quirked into a mischievous grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a daring excitement that was infectious.
Tharun barely managed a nod in response to Shruti's audacious grin before the weight of her revelation settled in. A knot of panic twisted inside him, and he extricated himself from her tangled limbs with a sudden urgency. Her laughter echoed in the room, a haunting reminder of the risks unspoken, as he hastily gathered his scattered clothes from the floor. The air felt heavy with implication, but he pushed it aside, yanking on his shirt and jeans with the haste of a man desperate to escape the confines of his own recklessness. The door clicked shut behind him, a soft punctuation to their whirlwind encounter, and he exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Fumbling for his phone, he dialed Sunita, his secretary, the decision already made before she picked up.
“Hi Tharun”
The sound of her voice was grounding, a tether to the rational world he'd momentarily left behind.
“I want Shruti fired asap," he said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended. "Don’t want to see her face in the office again.”
He hung up, the abruptness of the action mirroring the decisive cut he needed to make. Shruti's admission played on a loop in his mind as he kept walking back to his hotel room.
But the more he tried to escape his feelings through physical distractions, the more persistent they became. Sunita meant nothing to him—just a body to lose himself in when thoughts of Shruti became overwhelming.
After their encounter, he lay staring at the ceiling, Sunita's soft breathing beside him doing nothing to calm his racing mind. He'd known Shruti only for few weeks, and started to work alongside her daily, shared lunch breaks and office jokes. When had those friendly feelings transformed into something deeper?
"You're quiet," Sunita murmured, running her fingers across his chest.
"Just tired," he lied, already planning his excuse to leave.
His phone buzzed. A message from Shruti asking if he'd like to go to nishiki market as they were just keading back to tokyo from kyoto.
Jegan Sunita’s husband was sitting there watching Tharun leave.
He knew it was wrong to use Sunita this way, but the confusion in his heart left him desperate for distraction. Each time he closed his eyes, Shruti's smile haunted him, her laughter echoing in his mind long after their conversations ended.
"What are we doing?" Sunita asked, her voice cutting through the darkness. She propped herself up on one elbow, studying his face. "You're somewhere else."
"It's Shruti, isn't it?" Sunita's question wasn't really a question at all.
He nodded slowly, shame washing over him.
"You should go to her, don’t fall in love. You should fuck her asap" Sunita smiled at Tharun knowing he is a playboy.
Tharun got ready to pick up Shruti and they walked to the Kyoto station.
The bustling station was packed with tourists and locals alike, their chatter creating a constant hum that somehow made Tharun feel even more alone with his thoughts. Shruti walked beside him, her perfume occasionally wafting his way when the crowd pushed them closer together.
"I didn't expect you to actually come," she said, smiling up at him. "You seemed distracted when we messaged earlier."
Tharun swallowed hard, guilt and desire warring within him. Just thirty minutes ago, he'd been in Sunita's bed, and now here he was, heart racing at the mere proximity of Shruti.
"I wouldn't miss it," he managed. "Tokyo's different when you see it with someone who appreciates it."
Their train arrived, sleek and punctual as everything else in Japan. They found seats together, knees occasionally touching as the train rocked along the tracks. The countryside gradually transformed into the dense urban sprawl of Tokyo, mirroring Tharun's internal landscape—wild, conflicted, and increasingly claustrophobic.
"You seem troubled," Shruti observed, her eyes studying his face with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. "Is everything okay?"
"Just work stress," he lied, avoiding her gaze. How could he tell her that her very presence was tearing him apart inside? That he was caught between raw desire and something deeper that terrified him?
Nishiki Market emerged before them in all its sensory glory—a narrow, covered shopping street lined with hundreds of shops and restaurants. The scent of fresh seafood, sweet taiyaki, and savory yakitori filled the air. Colorful displays of pickled vegetables and exotic fruits created a kaleidoscope effect that momentarily distracted Tharun from his inner turmoil.
The market is a bustling hub of activity, with vendors shouting and customers haggling. The colorful stalls are filled with fresh seafood, vibrant fruits and vegetables, and enticing displays of various Japanese dishes.
The Tsukiji Outer Market is a bustling and vibrant hub of activity, with bright neon signs illuminating the narrow street and vendors selling an array of colorful produce and seafood.
Tsukiji Outer Market is a bustling street filled with vibrant colors and movement. The shops and restaurants line the narrow street, their signs jutting out overhead, each one competing for attention with bright lights and bold designs. People of all ages and backgrounds crowd the walkways, their eyes alight with curiosity and anticipation as they peruse the market's offerings.
Shruti joked, poking Tharun's arm as they passed a stall selling octopus skewers. "Adventurous enough to try one?"
"I'll try anything once," he replied, grateful for the distraction. The vendor handed them two skewers, and Tharun watched Shruti's face scrunch in determination as she took a tentative bite.
Their fingers brushed as he paid, sending an electric current up his arm. This wasn't like the practiced touches he'd exchanged with Sunita or countless others. This was accidental, innocent, and somehow more intimate than anything he'd experienced before.
They wandered deeper into the market, stopping occasionally to sample street food or admire handcrafted items. In a quiet moment between stalls, Shruti turned to him.
"Can I ask you something personal?" Her voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the market's ambient, it was about last night and she knew about Sunita and she knew she’s married to Jegan.
Tharun's heart hammered against his ribs. The noise of the market seemed to fade away, leaving only Shruti's question hanging in the air between them. His mouth went dry.
"How did you—"
"It's a small community, Tharun," she said, her eyes not accusatory but sad. "Word travels, especially among expats. I've heard things about you and Sunita for weeks."
He looked down at the crowded street, shame burning his cheeks. "I didn't think you knew."
"That's not even the worst part," Shruti continued, her voice barely audible above the market noise. "I saw Jegan this morning. He was at the hotel bar when I came down for breakfast. He looked right at me and raised his glass." She shivered despite the warm evening. "He knows about us being here together."
“There is something about me you should know, I am not the romantic guy that sticks with one girl.”
Shruti's face remained impassive, but something flickered in her eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or recognition of a truth she'd already suspected.
"I see," she said quietly. "Is that why you're here with me? Just another conquest?"
The question stung more than Tharun expected. He'd prepared this speech for countless women before, but delivering it to Shruti felt like swallowing broken glass.
"It's not like that," he said, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. Around them, market-goers continued their sensory journey, oblivious to the intimate conversation unfolding in their midst. "With you, it's... different."
Shruti let out a small, humorless laugh. "I've heard that one before." She turned away, pretending to examine a display of hand-painted chopsticks. Her saree briefly revealing her smooth midriff and her immaculate right breast, tightly packed in her blouse.
Tharun's gaze lingered on her form, his mind torn between habitual desire and something deeper that scared him more than any confrontation with Jegan ever could.
"Look," he said, stepping closer so they wouldn't be overheard, "I've never claimed to be a good man. But I'm being honest with you now, which is more than I've been with myself lately."
Shruti turned back to him, her eyes searching his face. "And what exactly is the truth, Tharun? That you sleep with married women while pursuing others? That you're incapable of genuine connection?"
Her words cut through his practiced defenses. In the kaleidoscopic lights of the market, surrounded by the press of strangers, Tharun felt strangely exposed.
"The truth is that when I'm with you, I forget the script," he admitted.
“Are you saying, you won’t fuck me then?” She asked locking into his eyes.
The question hung between them like a physical thing, cutting through the market noise. Tharun felt his carefully constructed world tilting on its axis. For years, he'd moved from woman to woman with practiced ease, his charm and detachment a well-honed combination. But Shruti's directness left him momentarily speechless.
"Is that what you think this is about?" he finally managed, his voice low. "Just sex?"
"Isn't it always with you?" Her eyes remained locked on his, challenging. "I've heard enough stories, Tharun. Your reputation precedes you."
A group of tourists pushed past them, momentarily separating them in the narrow market corridor. When they came together again, they were standing closer than before.
"You're right about my past," he admitted. "But you're wrong about what's happening now."
Shruti crossed her arms. "Enlighten me," she challenged, one eyebrow raised.
The market's cacophony faded to a distant hum as Tharun struggled to articulate feelings he barely understood himself. This wasn't the familiar territory of seduction and conquest—this was something raw and uncomfortable.
"I don't know how to explain it," he said finally. "With others—with Sunita—I always know exactly what I'm doing. It's a game with rules I've mastered." He paused, searching for words. "With you, I keep forgetting the rules. I keep wanting things I've spent years avoiding."
"Like what?" Her voice had softened slightly, but her guard remained firmly in place.
"Like conversation that matters. Like waking up next to someone and not immediately planning my escape." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated by his own inability to articulate the chaos she'd created in his carefully ordered life.
"I don't know what this is, but it's real."
The skepticism in Shruti's eyes hadn't completely disappeared, but something else joined it—curiosity, perhaps.
"Words come easily to men like you," she said quietly.
Tharun looked around at the bustling market, the fluorescent lights illuminating their faces in harsh, unforgiving clarity. This wasn't the place for what he needed to say, what he needed to show her.
"Come with me," he said suddenly, taking her hand. The touch sent an electric current through his palm that had nothing to do with physical desire.
"Where?" she asked, hesitating.
"Just trust me. For ten minutes."
After a moment's consideration, she nodded, allowing him to lead her through the crowded market and out onto the less congested side streets of Tokyo. The neon lights of the main drag faded behind them as they walked in silence, their footsteps a quiet rhythm against the pavement. The night air was cool against Shruti's skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy market.
Tharun led her through narrow alleyways adorned with lanterns and past small eateries where locals huddled over steaming bowls. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, navigating the labyrinthine streets with surprising confidence for a foreigner.
Finally, they emerged onto a small pedestrian bridge spanning a canal. The water below reflected the city lights, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced across the surface. It was surprisingly quiet here, the urban chaos reduced to a distant murmur.
"This is where I come when the city gets too loud," Tharun said, releasing her hand and leaning against the railing. "I found it by accident my second day in Tokyo."
Shruti joined him at the railing, her arms folded protectively across her chest. "It's beautiful," she admitted.
"When I was twenty-two, I had everything mapped out," Tharun said, his eyes fixed on the rippling water below. "Career trajectory, retirement plan, even the neighborhood where I'd buy my first property. I executed that plan perfectly for years."
"And now?" Shruti's voice was barely audible above the gentle lapping of water against the canal walls.
"Now I'm standing on a bridge in Tokyo with a woman who challenges everything I thought I knew about myself." He turned to face her. "I don't have words for this because I've never felt it before. That terrifies me, but it also feels like... waking up."
The skepticism in Shruti's eyes softened. "I didn't come to judge you, I kind of like you but I don’t wa.. “ before she can finish her sentence Tharun gently placed his finger on her lips. The touch was light, almost reverent, and Shruti's words died in her throat.
"I know what you're going to say," he whispered. "That we're too different. That I'm too calculated and you're too spontaneous. That this is just a vacation fling." He lowered his hand. "Maybe you're right."
A boat passed beneath them, creating ripples that distorted the reflected lights. Shruti watched the patterns reform, gathering her thoughts.
"That wasn't what I was going to say," she finally replied. "I was going to say I don't want to be someone's awakening. I don't want to be your manic pixie dream girl who shows the serious businessman how to live." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been that before. It doesn't end well."
Tharun stepped closer, the space between them charged with something more complex than mere attraction. The distant city lights cast half-shadows across her face, illuminating the curve of her cheek, the slight furrow of her brow.
"I'm not asking you to be my awakening," he said softly. "I'm just asking you to be here, now, with me. No expectations. No scripts."
A gentle breeze stirred the air around them, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms from a nearby garden. Below, the canal water lapped rhythmically against stone walls, a sound like whispered secrets.
"And what happens when we return to real life?" Shruti asked, her voice barely audible above the water's gentle percussion. "When Tokyo becomes just photos on our phones and stories we tell at dinner parties?"
Tharun didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached closer and grabbed her face and pulled her closer, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands cradled her face with unexpected tenderness, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. The world around them seemed to freeze, the distant Tokyo noise fading into nothing.
When their lips met, it wasn't with the practiced expertise he'd employed countless times before. This kiss was hesitant, almost reverent. Shruti remained still for a heartbeat, then another, before her hands found his shoulders, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, transforming into something that felt dangerously like revelation. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing unevenly.
"I didn't plan that," Tharun whispered, his forehead resting against hers.
"I know," she replied. Her eyes remained closed, as if she were memorizing the sensation.
Her saree has now fallen from her shoulders and her cleavage was heaving, rising and falling with her quickened breath. Tharun felt a familiar hunger rising within him, but this time accompanied by something unfamiliar—a tenderness that made him want to both possess and protect her.
"We should go somewhere," he said, his voice husky with desire.
Shruti nodded, her eyes reflecting the dancing lights of the canal. "Your hotel or mine?"
"Mine is closer," he replied, taking her hand again.
They walked in charged silence through the Tokyo streets, the neon signs and late-night revelers creating a dreamlike backdrop to their journey. In the elevator of his hotel, they stood apart, the air between them electric with anticipation. When the doors finally closed, Tharun pulled her against him, his lips finding hers with newfound urgency.
By the time they reached his room, Shruti's saree was already loosened, her hair falling in disarray around her face. The door had barely closed behind them when he pressed her against it, his mouth hot against her neck, his hands exploring the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her blouse.
"Wait," she whispered, placing her hands against his chest. "I need to know something first."
Tharun pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged. "Anything."
"Is this just physical for you?" The vulnerability in her eyes cut through his desire, forcing him to confront the question he'd been avoiding since they'd met.
He took a step back, running his hand through his hair. "If I said yes, would you leave?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I'd rather know the truth now than discover it later."
The room felt suddenly too small, too warm. Outside the window, Tokyo's skyline glittered like scattered stars.
“I feel like it’s physical for me, at least for now”
Shruti hesitated, but she wanted to know what the infamous playboy Tharun is all about and what he’s packing. Curiosity got thr best of her.
She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "At least you're honest."
"I've been many things in my life, but I'm trying to be honest now," he said, stepping closer again. "I don't know what this is between us. I just know I want to explore it."
Shruti reached up and began unwinding her saree, her movements deliberate and unhurried. The silk whispered as it fell away, pooling at her feet in a puddle of color. Beneath, her blouse clung to her curves, the hooks barely containing what lay beneath.
"Then explore," she said simply.
Tharun's hands trembled slightly as he reached for her—a new sensation for a man accustomed to calculated seduction. He worked at the hooks of her blouse with uncharacteristic clumsiness, his usual finesse abandoned in the face of genuine desire.
“I always wanted to taste these” he stared into her tight blouse.
Tharun placed his skillfull hands on her first hook and started undoing her blouse.
When the last hook finally gave way, revealing her bare skin to the cool air of the hotel room, Tharun felt a surge of something more powerful than mere lust. Shruti's breasts were fuller than he'd imagined, her skin glowing golden in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping before he could filter them through his usual calculated charm.
Shruti smiled, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes as she stood before him, partially undressed. "Your turn," she said softly.
Tharun removed his shirt, watching her eyes travel across his chest. The practiced confidence that had served him through countless encounters suddenly felt inadequate, replaced by an almost adolescent nervousness.
They moved to the bed, their remaining clothes discarded along the way. Each touch felt different—more electric, more meaningful—than anything in his considerable experience.
Shruti's laced bra fell away, revealing breasts that drew an appreciative murmur from Tharun's lips. His hands cupped them with reverence, thumbs brushing across her hardened nipples as she arched into his touch. The practiced moves he'd perfected with countless women before her seemed hollow now, replaced by an urgent desire to know her—truly know her—in ways that transcended the physical.
"I want to taste every inch of you," he whispered against her collarbone, trailing kisses down the valley between her breasts.
Shruti's fingers tangled in his hair, her breathing quickening as his mouth moved lower, across the soft plane of her stomach, to the edge of her petticoat. He paused there, looking up at her, seeking permission in a way he never had before.
"Yes," she breathed, lifting her hips slightly
Tharun slowly unwrapped her petticoat, revealing the delicate lace of her underwear beneath. His fingers hooked into the waistband, sliding the final barrier down her legs with deliberate slowness. The sight of her fully naked before him made his breath catch—not because he hadn't seen beautiful women before, but because the vulnerability in her eyes transformed the moment into something sacred.
He lowered his mouth to her inner thigh, placing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, working his way upward with maddening patience. When his tongue finally found her center, Shruti gasped, her back arching off the bed. Her fingers clutched the sheets as he explored her with his mouth, learning the rhythm and pressure that made her breath quicken and her thighs tremble.
"Tharun," she moaned, the sound of his name on her lips sending a surge.
“I want to taste you” he slowly made his way
His tongue teased her entrance, circling the sensitive bud before delving deeper, drinking in her essence with growing hunger. Each moan that escaped her lips fueled his desire, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her closer to his mouth.
Shruti writhed beneath him, her inhibitions dissolving with each expert flick of his tongue. This wasn't the calculated technique of a practiced seducer—this was raw hunger, a man discovering something precious for the first time.
"I need you," she gasped, tugging at his shoulders. "Now."
Tharun moved up her body, his lips finding hers in a kiss that tasted of her own arousal. He positioned himself between her thighs, the tip of his hardness pressing against her entrance. For a moment, he hesitated, looking into her eyes.
"Are you sure?" he whispered.
Her answer was to wrap her legs around his waist, drawing him toward her. "More sure than I've been about anything in a long time."
“I want to see what all the fuzz is about," Shruti said, her voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation. She bit her lip, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she continued, "All the women talk about your... thing," the words escaping almost like a confession, tinged with something like awe.
She paused, a fleeting moment of insecurity flickering in her eyes. But Shruti was not the kind of woman to hide behind timidity; she wanted to know fully what drew so many others before her, what made him legendary in that most intimate of ways. Her boldness returned, and she let out a soft, nervous laugh that danced like a dare through the charged air between them.
"And I want to see it,” she finished, her voice steadier now, challenging him to reveal the truths and myths that had preceded their meeting.
The challenge in her words surprised him. It awakened something dormant, something he both feared and craved. A smile spread across his face, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the promise held within her brazen curiosity. He leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers, and let the charged air crackle with what was to come.
A man like Tharun had never needed to prove himself with more than a sly smile and a knowing touch, but this was different. She had dared him, and he accepted it with a fervor that felt almost adolescent in its intensity. Her flush deepened as his hands moved to his waistband, the anticipation between them almost tangible.
With a deliberate and sensual slowness, he pushed his pants down over his hips, revealing himself to her in a way that was both vulnerable and triumphant. Her eyes widened, and he reveled in the unspoken validation her gaze provided.
He was ready to feel her in ways that transcended his physical reputation, and the acceptance of her challenge burned like a promise in the space between them.
"Then you must see," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with promise and mischief. He stood before her with the poise of a conquering hero, a figure of masculine grace and power that seemed to fill the room. Shruti watched, her breath catching in anticipation, as his hands slid down his pants, the slow reveal almost teasing in its deliberateness.
When he finally stepped out of the last bit of clothing, he stood naked before her like a Greek god, sculpted and magnificent. Her eyes widened as they traveled the length of him, drinking in every inch. Tharun marveled at the expression on her face—equal parts amazement and desire—and felt a surge of satisfaction mingled with a new and deeper emotion.
His cock was like a lingam, proud and unyielding, the embodiment of every whispered rumor and breathless confession that haunted his reputation.
Shruti bit her lips as her mouth watered and she was embarrassed to admit she wanted a taste.
She had never been with a man like Tharun before, and the thrill of his legendary prowess made her feel like an eager girl on the brink of discovery. She was surprised by just how much she wanted him and just how intensely she wanted to know him on her terms, to experience the man behind the myth in the most intimate of ways.
A quiver of excitement ran through her as her curiosity deepened into something raw and primal. Her boldness surged again, consuming her hesitation as she spoke with a candor that left no room for misunderstanding.
"I want to taste that," she said, the words rushing out in a breathless confession that hovered between them. The admission hung in the air like a challenge, and she reveled in the freedom of naming her desire without shame. Her voice had a tremor of urgency, the anticipation building to a delicious crescendo.
Shruti marveled at the audacity of her own longing, the blush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest, a visible testament to her need. She watched his face, searching for his reaction, her heart pounding with the thrill of the moment.
Her lips parted slightly, inviting, as she imagined what it would feel like to take him into her mouth, to make him shudder and lose control in a way that was new even for him. The idea filled her with a sense of power and promise, of claiming a part of him that went beyond physical conquest.
The intensity of wanting overwhelmed her, and she was unashamed of how it made her pulse with desire.
Tharun moved closer to Shruti’s mouth.
“yes, I want to taste that..” she used the word - that - as if it had a life on its own and she meant to consume it.
Her eyes blazed with a hunger that seemed to break free from the confines of her body, as if wanting more than he even thought possible. She was insistent, demanding to know him in ways that transcended mere physical conquest. The intensity of her need filled the room, leaving little space for anything else. She wanted him with an urgency that was almost tangible, a burning desire to taste him, claim him, make him hers.
Tharun positioned his cock right in front of her eager lips. His shaft was thick and pulsing, the veins pronounced under the taut skin. Shruti's breath was warm against him as she hesitated for just a moment, savoring the anticipation.
Her tongue darted out first, a tentative taste that sent electricity through his body. Emboldened by his sharp intake of breath, she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching to accommodate his girth. The sensation was overwhelming—wet heat enveloping him as her tongue traced patterns along his length.
She pulled back, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and determination as she looked at his cock again. "So... big..." she exclaimed, her words filled with wonder and a hint of incredulity.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips, the sound light and thrilling as it left her breathless. She marveled at the sheer size, the thickness that seemed almost impossible, her gaze fixated on him with a blend of admiration and disbelief.
“Wow,” she murmured, the word almost swallowed by her own excitement as she tilted her head, studying every inch of him with unabashed curiosity. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, fingers barely meeting as she squeezed gently, feeling the pulse beneath her grip. Tharun watched her, mesmerized by the transformation of her initial hesitance into bold exploration. He reveled in the way her cheeks flushed and her breath quickened, her body a canvas of eager anticipation.
Shruti's eyes met his for a fleeting moment, a silent communication passing between them before she leaned forward once more. She nuzzled her nose against him, the intimate gesture sending a jolt through his body. Her mouth hovered above the tip, teasing with her warm breath, a delicious torment of near contact.
Tharun's hand found her hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands. Not guiding, not controlling, but connecting—anchoring himself to her as pleasure surged through him in waves. The sight of her taking him so eagerly, her eyes occasionally flickering up to meet his, was almost his undoing.
"Shruti," he groaned, and gently pushed her face down his shaft, guiding her deeper.
She took him as far as she could, her throat constricting around his tip as she struggled to accommodate his size. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the effort, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks, creating a vacuum of pleasure that made Tharun's knees weaken.
"God," he breathed, his voice strained. "You're incredible."
Shruti's lips curved into a smile around him, her eyes dancing with mischief as she set a rhythm that had him grasping at the sheets for stability. Her hands joined her mouth in the effort, one wrapped around what she couldn't swallow, the other gently cupping him below.
The expertise of her motions surprised him. This wasn't the tentative exploration he'd expected, but the confident technique of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Her mouth moved with purpose, alternating between deep, engulfing strokes and focused attention to his most sensitive spots. Each time she pulled back, her tongue would swirl around his tip before she plunged forward again, taking him deeper than before.
Tharun's breathing grew ragged, his control slipping with each passing moment. The sight of Shruti on her knees before him, her lips stretched around his girth, eyes occasionally flickering up to gauge his reaction—it was almost too much.
"Wait," he gasped, gently pulling away from her eager mouth.
"Not like this. I want to be inside you."
Shruti wiped her lips with the back of her hand, a gesture that was somehow both innocent and provocative. "I wasn't finished," she said, her voice husky with desire.
"Neither am I," Tharun replied, helping her to her feet. He guided her to the bed, laying her down with a gentleness that contrasted with the urgency in his eyes.
He positioned himself above her, his weight supported on his forearms as he looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?"
In answer, Shruti reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. The first push was gentle, tentative—his size requiring patience. She gasped at the sensation, her body yielding to accommodate him inch by exquisite inch.
"Oh god," she breathed, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"You're so... I can feel you everywhere."
Tharun moved slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to his size. Each thrust went deeper than the last, their bodies finding a rhythm that spoke of something beyond mere physical compatibility. His mouth found her neck, her collarbone, her breasts—tasting, exploring.
He fucked her with a fierceness that took her breath away and made the bed creak beneath them. Each movement was both urgent and unhurried, as if he intended to own every second and make it last forever. His thrusts were deep and powerful, filling her completely, making her gasp and cry out in ways that felt almost foreign to her.
Shruti arched her back, meeting him with equal fervor, her body lifting to deepen the connection between them. Every inch of her was alive, radiating with sensation that blurred the line between pleasure and something more profound. She had never felt so consumed, so immersed in another person.
The intensity wrapped around them like a cocoon, shutting out everything but the heat of his skin and the rhythm of their bodies. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more. She marveled at the delicious friction, at the way her body yielded to him, at how incredibly full she felt. He fucked her like he meant it, like he meant everything.
He flipped her over and positioned her on all fours
His hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he admired the curve of her back and the swell of her buttocks. Shruti felt vulnerable and exposed in this position, but also powerful, knowing the effect she had on him. She looked back over her shoulder, her hair cascading down her back, eyes dark with desire.
"Like this?" she whispered, arching her back further, presenting herself to him.
Tharun's answer was a deep, slow thrust that made her gasp and clutch at the sheets. From this angle, he seemed impossibly large, reaching places inside her that sent electric currents of pleasure radiating through her body. His hands explored her back, tracing the delicate line of her spine before one hand slid around to cup her breast, fingers teasing her nipple.
"You feel amazing," he murmured, the words almost a growl as the intensity of the moment heightened. He grabbed her by her waist chain, the metallic links cool against his fingers, and felt an unexpected jolt of excitement surge through him. The chain glinted provocatively, a perfect contrast to her flushed skin, and he was suddenly even more turned on by how it wrapped around her, accentuating her curves. He began to ride her with renewed vigor, the sight of it spurring him into a frenzied pace.
The chain moved against her hips in a way that drove him wild, pulling tighter with each thrust as he lost himself in her completely. His cock reached new depths, a primal rhythm taking over.
Shruti began to cum uncontrollably, almost instantly overwhelmed by the intensity of the release crashing through her.
The orgasm tore through her like an unstoppable wave, her entire body convulsing with each powerful jolt of pleasure. She cried out, the sound raw and uninhibited, as her muscles clenched around him in rhythmic pulses that seemed endless. Her vision blurred, senses overloaded by the immensity of sensation, the world contracting to the exquisite fullness inside her.
Her arms gave out and she collapsed forward, offering herself to him as he continued to drive into her with relentless, urgent strokes. Tharun felt the shudders ripple through her, the intensity of her climax speeding him toward his own. He rode her hard, unable to hold back as the waves of her orgasm pulled him deeper and deeper.
With a final thrust, he spilled into her, the force of his release leaving him breathless. They finished together, collapsing into a breathless tangle of limbs.
“sorry I didn’t have a condom”
His voice broke the heavy silence, a mix of apology and sheepishness. The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the intensity of their union, as if bringing them back to the realm of reality. He shifted slightly, his weight still pinning her down while his mind began to reckon with the implications. There was a pause as he considered the enormity of his oversight, a moment that stretched between them like a fragile thread, ready to unravel.
Then, slowly, Shruti lifted her head, her hair spilling across the sheets as she turned to face him. Her lips parted, but the words that came out were unexpected, laden with a raw honesty that matched the vulnerability of their position.
“I’m ovulating”
The admission sent a shockwave through Tharun, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He searched her face for a hint of jest, but her expression was one of sincere acknowledgment. The tension in the room shifted, transformed into something more complex—an exhilarating cocktail of anticipation and risk.
For a heartbeat, time seemed suspended, their breaths mingling in a charged stillness. Then Shruti's mouth quirked into a mischievous grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a daring excitement that was infectious.
Tharun barely managed a nod in response to Shruti's audacious grin before the weight of her revelation settled in. A knot of panic twisted inside him, and he extricated himself from her tangled limbs with a sudden urgency. Her laughter echoed in the room, a haunting reminder of the risks unspoken, as he hastily gathered his scattered clothes from the floor. The air felt heavy with implication, but he pushed it aside, yanking on his shirt and jeans with the haste of a man desperate to escape the confines of his own recklessness. The door clicked shut behind him, a soft punctuation to their whirlwind encounter, and he exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Fumbling for his phone, he dialed Sunita, his secretary, the decision already made before she picked up.
“Hi Tharun”
The sound of her voice was grounding, a tether to the rational world he'd momentarily left behind.
“I want Shruti fired asap," he said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended. "Don’t want to see her face in the office again.”
He hung up, the abruptness of the action mirroring the decisive cut he needed to make. Shruti's admission played on a loop in his mind as he kept walking back to his hotel room.
Her Insta is @radiant_vanitha
See Tharun's action in this story How I fucked a homely girl and a modern slut at work
See Tharun's action in this story How I fucked a homely girl and a modern slut at work
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