01-05-2025, 04:14 PM
He dragged me to the mirror with force, breath hot and ragged, the glass fogging slightly from the heat we radiated. My reflection stared back at me—flushed, wild, eyes blown wide with lust, lips parted. Behind me, Ramu loomed like a man possessed. His body pressed tight to mine, the ridges of his muscles locking around me like a cage. His cock, hard and twitching, ground up between the cheeks of my ass with primal purpose, no hesitation, no softness.
"Look at yourself," he growled, voice low and dangerous against the shell of my ear. "Look what this body does to me. Watch how filthy you become for me."
His hands shot around my waist and yanked me tight against him, making my breath catch. Then he grabbed my breasts from behind, not with caution, but with the hunger of a man starved. He groped and squeezed hard, thumbs rolling my nipples with sharp, needy aggression, pulling harsh gasps from my throat as I rocked against him.
"You feel this cock? This isn't Murugan’s lazy half-stiff thing," he snarled, teeth grazing my neck. "This is what you’ve been denied. This is what you're made for."
His hand slid lower—fast, greedy—fingers diving between my thighs, spreading me open with zero patience. He didn’t tease, didn’t coax. His fingers ran over my slick folds like he owned them, finding the needy spot and rubbing with ruthless rhythm.
"So fucking wet," he spat, watching me writhe in the glass. "Dripping. And not for your husband. Not ever again."
"Fuck… Ramu!" I cried, arching, my legs trembling as his touch turned brutal, rhythmic, relentless.
My pussy pulsed, soaked and raw with need. I reached back, gripping his thigh, nails digging in. "Put your mouth on me. Now. Don't make me beg."
"Oh, you'll beg," he said, voice dark and thick. "But not yet."
Then with a growl, he hoisted me up—my body slamming into his chest, legs wrapped around him instinctively. His cock still ground against me with every step, the head slicking against my drenched folds through his rough movements.
He dropped me on the bed, not gentle—he flung me, breath stolen from my lungs. Then he flipped me onto my back with one hand and crashed his mouth onto mine—messy, wet, filled with tongue and teeth. He kissed like he wanted to devour me.
His hands were wild now—grabbing, gripping, slapping my thighs apart and dragging his fingers over my pussy again.
"Every time your husband fumbled, every time he rolled over and left you aching—I’m erasing it," he growled. "You’ll only remember how I make you scream."
I was already trembling, heart racing, heat surging in wild waves.
And he hadn't even gone down on me yet.
-----------------
After several searing minutes of savage kissing, rough grabbing, and gasping moans, he flipped our bodies with a snarling grunt, twisting us into a feral, snarling 69. There was no softness—only raw, unfiltered need. His broad chest slammed against my belly, pinning me down, his cock now looming over my face like a weapon, swollen, veined, and twitching with violent urgency. The tip leaked precum that glistened, gliding just above my parted lips. The scent was overpowering—male musk, salt, and sweat, thick enough to drown in. Beneath me, his face was buried in my dripping cunt, and I could feel his breath—hot, panting, carnivorous—bathing my folds.
I arched like I was possessed, tilted my head up, and kissed the fat crown of his cock with open hunger. He jerked his hips, shoving the head against my lips like he couldn’t control it.
“Fuck, Sakshi,” he snarled, voice rough like gravel. “Your mouth was made to be used like this.”
I grinned into his skin, letting my lips smear slick across his tip. My fingers curled around his thick shaft, stroking it slow and cruel. I let my tongue swirl around the slit, scooping up precum, my spit dribbling down like honey as I stroked him—watching his muscles twitch, hearing his groans deepen into growls.
Below, he didn’t wait. He ripped me open with his hands, spreading my pussy wide, shoving two fingers into me without warning. “So fucking wet. So ready to be wrecked,” he growled into my flesh.
Then his mouth was on me—no teasing, no build-up—just savage, slobbering licks, as if trying to devour my soul through my cunt. His tongue was a weapon, flattening and thrashing, dragging against my clit like a madman, then plunging deep into me, twisting, writhing, driving me insane.
I moaned into his cock, now sliding into my throat with abandon. I took him deeper, lips stretched wide, spit drooling down his shaft as my hand pumped faster. I licked along the base, then shoved him deep again, sucking until he trembled.
“Fucking hell,” he growled, his words muffled in my pussy. He bit my inner thigh, hard enough to bruise, then dove back in, eating me like a beast starved.
He shoved another finger inside, then three, his knuckles grinding against my pussy walls, finger-fucking me like he was trying to rip an orgasm out of me. My moans turned to muffled screams, my entire body shaking under his grip.
He slapped my ass hard, once—twice—making it bounce as he groaned into my cunt, tongue darting between his thrusting fingers.
“You fucking clench so tight,” he grunted. “This pussy’s begging to be destroyed.”
I sobbed around his cock, sucking harder, my throat tightening as I took him deeper and deeper. My free hand clawed into his thigh, nails raking down as I lost control.
He growled like an animal, tongue lashing my clit again while his fingers curled and dragged along that perfect spot that made stars explode behind my eyes.
“This isn’t love-making,” I choked, spit dripping from my chin. “This is punishment.”
“This is fucking worship,” he answered, mouth drenched with my slick.
We fucked each other’s mouths like war. Unrelenting. Raw. Animal. His cock was soaked, my pussy weeping. Every second was filth. Every second was fire.
Fifteen minutes blurred in screams, choking gasps, and savage thrusts of tongues and fingers. We were a knot of sweat, spit, and cum—tangled, heaving, trembling. Everything obscene. Everything desperate. Everything ours.
"Look at yourself," he growled, voice low and dangerous against the shell of my ear. "Look what this body does to me. Watch how filthy you become for me."
His hands shot around my waist and yanked me tight against him, making my breath catch. Then he grabbed my breasts from behind, not with caution, but with the hunger of a man starved. He groped and squeezed hard, thumbs rolling my nipples with sharp, needy aggression, pulling harsh gasps from my throat as I rocked against him.
"You feel this cock? This isn't Murugan’s lazy half-stiff thing," he snarled, teeth grazing my neck. "This is what you’ve been denied. This is what you're made for."
His hand slid lower—fast, greedy—fingers diving between my thighs, spreading me open with zero patience. He didn’t tease, didn’t coax. His fingers ran over my slick folds like he owned them, finding the needy spot and rubbing with ruthless rhythm.
"So fucking wet," he spat, watching me writhe in the glass. "Dripping. And not for your husband. Not ever again."
"Fuck… Ramu!" I cried, arching, my legs trembling as his touch turned brutal, rhythmic, relentless.
My pussy pulsed, soaked and raw with need. I reached back, gripping his thigh, nails digging in. "Put your mouth on me. Now. Don't make me beg."
"Oh, you'll beg," he said, voice dark and thick. "But not yet."
Then with a growl, he hoisted me up—my body slamming into his chest, legs wrapped around him instinctively. His cock still ground against me with every step, the head slicking against my drenched folds through his rough movements.
He dropped me on the bed, not gentle—he flung me, breath stolen from my lungs. Then he flipped me onto my back with one hand and crashed his mouth onto mine—messy, wet, filled with tongue and teeth. He kissed like he wanted to devour me.
His hands were wild now—grabbing, gripping, slapping my thighs apart and dragging his fingers over my pussy again.
"Every time your husband fumbled, every time he rolled over and left you aching—I’m erasing it," he growled. "You’ll only remember how I make you scream."
I was already trembling, heart racing, heat surging in wild waves.
And he hadn't even gone down on me yet.
-----------------
After several searing minutes of savage kissing, rough grabbing, and gasping moans, he flipped our bodies with a snarling grunt, twisting us into a feral, snarling 69. There was no softness—only raw, unfiltered need. His broad chest slammed against my belly, pinning me down, his cock now looming over my face like a weapon, swollen, veined, and twitching with violent urgency. The tip leaked precum that glistened, gliding just above my parted lips. The scent was overpowering—male musk, salt, and sweat, thick enough to drown in. Beneath me, his face was buried in my dripping cunt, and I could feel his breath—hot, panting, carnivorous—bathing my folds.
I arched like I was possessed, tilted my head up, and kissed the fat crown of his cock with open hunger. He jerked his hips, shoving the head against my lips like he couldn’t control it.
“Fuck, Sakshi,” he snarled, voice rough like gravel. “Your mouth was made to be used like this.”
I grinned into his skin, letting my lips smear slick across his tip. My fingers curled around his thick shaft, stroking it slow and cruel. I let my tongue swirl around the slit, scooping up precum, my spit dribbling down like honey as I stroked him—watching his muscles twitch, hearing his groans deepen into growls.
Below, he didn’t wait. He ripped me open with his hands, spreading my pussy wide, shoving two fingers into me without warning. “So fucking wet. So ready to be wrecked,” he growled into my flesh.
Then his mouth was on me—no teasing, no build-up—just savage, slobbering licks, as if trying to devour my soul through my cunt. His tongue was a weapon, flattening and thrashing, dragging against my clit like a madman, then plunging deep into me, twisting, writhing, driving me insane.
I moaned into his cock, now sliding into my throat with abandon. I took him deeper, lips stretched wide, spit drooling down his shaft as my hand pumped faster. I licked along the base, then shoved him deep again, sucking until he trembled.
“Fucking hell,” he growled, his words muffled in my pussy. He bit my inner thigh, hard enough to bruise, then dove back in, eating me like a beast starved.
He shoved another finger inside, then three, his knuckles grinding against my pussy walls, finger-fucking me like he was trying to rip an orgasm out of me. My moans turned to muffled screams, my entire body shaking under his grip.
He slapped my ass hard, once—twice—making it bounce as he groaned into my cunt, tongue darting between his thrusting fingers.
“You fucking clench so tight,” he grunted. “This pussy’s begging to be destroyed.”
I sobbed around his cock, sucking harder, my throat tightening as I took him deeper and deeper. My free hand clawed into his thigh, nails raking down as I lost control.
He growled like an animal, tongue lashing my clit again while his fingers curled and dragged along that perfect spot that made stars explode behind my eyes.
“This isn’t love-making,” I choked, spit dripping from my chin. “This is punishment.”
“This is fucking worship,” he answered, mouth drenched with my slick.
We fucked each other’s mouths like war. Unrelenting. Raw. Animal. His cock was soaked, my pussy weeping. Every second was filth. Every second was fire.
Fifteen minutes blurred in screams, choking gasps, and savage thrusts of tongues and fingers. We were a knot of sweat, spit, and cum—tangled, heaving, trembling. Everything obscene. Everything desperate. Everything ours.
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