23-05-2025, 08:39 AM
With enough juices, I pulled out his cock.
Slowly.
Not all at once.
Bit by bit.
So I could feel every ridge, every edge.
------------------------------------------
His thickness slid out.
Like dragging a full branch from a wet tunnel.
My cunt gripped it.
Didn’t want to let go.
But I pulled.
------------------------------------------
Not to escape.
But to adjust.
To let my body breathe.
And then—
To welcome him again.
Properly.
------------------------------------------
The head left me with a pop.
A sound so soft, yet so filthy.
My pussy felt open.
Like lips left wide after a deep kiss.
I shivered.
------------------------------------------
Water licked my ankles.
My inner thighs dripped.
Juice. Sweat. Maybe a drop of blood.
I didn’t care.
I was already ruined.
------------------------------------------
His cockhead rested under me.
Still wet.
Still hard.
Still thick.
Like it missed being inside.
------------------------------------------
I raised my hips just a little.
Then aimed again.
Used my right hand to guide.
Held the base.
Thick. Pulsing. Hot.
------------------------------------------
I lowered my hips.
Not fast.
Just an inch.
Then another.
Letting him in—
Again.
------------------------------------------
My pussy sucked him back.
Slowly.
Greedy.
Hungry.
Wider this time.
------------------------------------------
Juice coated him.
Made the glide smoother.
My inner lips parted.
Pushed out.
Opened with every drop of weight I gave.
------------------------------------------
I moaned.
Couldn’t help it.
It wasn’t pain now.
Not like before.
But pressure.
Full pressure.
------------------------------------------
Like my pussy was swallowing something sacred.
Or dangerous.
Or both.
------------------------------------------
His cock entered inch by inch.
Like a train pushing into tight tunnel.
Every line of his skin—
Every thick vein—
Pressed into me.
------------------------------------------
I felt it all.
Against my walls.
Filling spaces I didn’t know I had.
Stretching folds I thought belonged to no one.
Not even Kartik.
------------------------------------------
And still—
I was going lower.
His cockhead reached deep.
Base still outside.
I wasn't done.
------------------------------------------
I pushed again.
My arms stiffened.
My thighs shook.
I bit my lip.
And dropped.
------------------------------------------
All of me.
All my weight.
Crashing.
Letting his cock tear its way in.
One brutal stroke.
------------------------------------------
I felt it.
That final second.
Where his cock pushed past the last tight ring inside me.
And my pussy…
Swallowed him whole.
------------------------------------------
Every inch.
Buried.
His root touching my cunt lips.
His balls brushing my ass.
My body?
Split. Full. Claimed.
------------------------------------------
A moan came out of me.
Not a high one.
But deep.
From my gut.
From the shame.
From the pleasure.
------------------------------------------
My cunt burned.
Not outside.
Inside.
Like someone poured hot oil in.
But the oil had veins.
And I could feel every one of them.
------------------------------------------
His cock didn’t just fill me.
It pulsed inside me.
It spoke to my flesh.
Each throb—
Like a knock.
Like a hello.
Like a you’re mine now.
------------------------------------------
I gasped.
Tried to breathe.
My chest was tight.
My nipples stiff inside my blouse.
They hurt from rubbing cloth.
But nothing compared to my hole.
------------------------------------------
That hole—
My sweet soft pussy—
Now stretched around this bastard’s cock.
And yet?
It loved it.
Every stretch.
Every beat.
Every thick vein.
------------------------------------------
I’d never felt this.
Not with Kartik.
He was too small.
Too dry.
Too fast.
Too selfish.
------------------------------------------
Arjun?
He had length.
Not this width.
He fucked with heart.
But this—
This cock fucked with history.
------------------------------------------
It felt like it had seen things.
Ruined women.
Taught cunts.
And now—
It was inside me.
------------------------------------------
I exhaled.
Long. Slow.
My stomach tightened.
Pain twisted up my back.
But I didn’t rise.
I stayed there.
Full.
Plugged.
------------------------------------------
I looked down.
At his face.
He was still.
But his eyes?
They were watching my pain.
Watching my expression.
------------------------------------------
And he loved it.
That made me boil.
This ugly bastard—
Enjoying my tension.
My struggle.
My fall.
------------------------------------------
So I slapped him.
Hard.
Fingers spread.
Right on his cheek.
His head turned a little.
Water splashed near his ear.
------------------------------------------
But he didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t frown.
His cock twitched inside me.
That was his reply.
------------------------------------------
I spat on him.
Right on his face.
A long, thick spit.
From my tongue.
Onto his cheek. Nose. Mouth.
------------------------------------------
It dripped down slowly.
Like claiming him back.
Like marking him.
The way he marked me inside.
------------------------------------------
Still no reaction.
No anger.
No shame.
Just those deep eyes.
Taking everything.
Saying nothing.
------------------------------------------
I snarled.
Scolded.
“Hey! This is not for you.”
He blinked.
“This is for me. Don’t over imagine.”
------------------------------------------
I said it with teeth.
But my body?
It loved being watched.
Loved being felt.
Loved being ruined.
------------------------------------------
Even if he couldn’t see my body—
Everything was under saree.
Blouse. Petticoat.
My modesty was intact.
But my cunt?
Was being made into a memory.
------------------------------------------
He could only see my face.
Nothing else.
But that was enough.
My face held all the shame.
All the tension.
All the betrayal.
------------------------------------------
And I saw it in his eyes.
He loved it.
Loved watching me fall apart.
With his cock buried inside.
------------------------------------------
But I wasn’t done.
I started thinking—
This pain…
Will it turn into pleasure?
Will this stretch become hunger?
------------------------------------------
I licked my lips.
Wiped my sweat.
Held my thighs tighter.
And slowly—
I lifted my hips.
------------------------------------------
Just a little.
His cock dragged inside me.
Vein by vein.
Like pulling out a thick, live rope.
------------------------------------------
My hole gripped him.
Didn’t want him to leave.
But I had to move.
Had to ride.
Had to take him in again.
------------------------------------------
I pushed back down.
Not full.
Just enough.
To tease myself.
To learn his shape.
------------------------------------------
My cunt widened again.
Welcoming.
Juice leaked down my thighs.
Mixing with tank water.
And I knew—
I was ready to ride.
------------------------------------------
Now I started to pull little.
Just a small lift.
An inch.
Maybe less.
His cock dragged inside me.
------------------------------------------
Then I pushed.
Down again.
Same inch.
Maybe a bit more.
My pussy opened again.
Welcomed again.
------------------------------------------
It hurt less now.
Still tight.
Still full.
But the edge of pain?
Softening.
Turning into heat.
------------------------------------------
I did it again.
Up a little.
Then down.
A rhythm was forming.
Between my thighs.
------------------------------------------
His cock was learning my shape.
Or maybe my pussy was learning his.
Like puzzle pieces.
Trying to lock.
Trying to melt.
------------------------------------------
I moaned.
First real moan.
Not because it hurt.
Because it felt.
Felt like something my body missed.
------------------------------------------
He still didn’t move.
Didn’t raise hands.
Didn’t buck hips.
Didn’t talk.
Just lay flat.
------------------------------------------
Panty gone from his face.
Now I could see him.
Every little twitch.
Every inch of breath.
Every drop of sweat.
------------------------------------------
His eyes looked up.
At me.
Not like lover.
Not like man.
Like beggar.
Like servant.
------------------------------------------
Like he got something divine today.
His face was glowing.
Eyes filled.
Not just with lust.
With… devotion.
------------------------------------------
I could see it.
That ugly face.
Dark skin.
Hair stuck to forehead.
But still—
He looked like a man who just saw goddess.
------------------------------------------
And I?
Was the goddess.
Not out of pride.
But truth.
A high-class woman.
Married.
Mother.
Polished.
Covered in red cotton.
------------------------------------------
And I was riding this—
This filthy security.
This tank cleaner.
This dog.
------------------------------------------
But he didn’t act dirty.
He didn’t smirk.
Didn’t bite lip.
Didn’t joke.
He just watched.
------------------------------------------
His eyes wide.
His mouth open slightly.
Chest moving fast.
As if he didn’t believe this was real.
------------------------------------------
And that—
That made it filthier.
That made it sweeter.
I was his dream.
And I was fucking myself on him.
------------------------------------------
My pussy started leaking more.
The friction helped.
Juices coated his cock.
Made it easier.
Made the ride smoother.
------------------------------------------
I used that.
Started to move more.
Up—down.
Up.
Down.
------------------------------------------
Slow at first.
Feeling every inch.
Making it real.
Making it last.
------------------------------------------
His cock rubbed all inside.
Sides. Bottom. Roof.
Everywhere.
I could feel his veins—
Pressed into my flesh.
------------------------------------------
I used my thighs now.
Used my back.
Used my waist.
Started bouncing lightly.
Tank water rippled below.
------------------------------------------
Moans came out more now.
From my mouth.
From my chest.
Even from my pussy.
That soft wet chukk chukk.
Soaked sounds.
------------------------------------------
His eyes—
They filled with something I didn’t expect.
Not just arousal.
But… joy.
------------------------------------------
He was happy.
Like a man seeing light after years of dark.
Like a dog finally allowed on bed.
Like a slave kissed by queen.
------------------------------------------
That word hit me.
Slave.
That’s what he looked like.
Beneath me.
Naked.
Still.
Cock inside his owner.
------------------------------------------
And I was riding him.
Not as his woman.
Not as his lover.
As his queen.
His higher being.
------------------------------------------
It made my cunt tighter.
I clenched around his cock.
And he twitched inside me.
A full pulse.
Like a heartbeat from his cock to my soul.
------------------------------------------
I didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
I let my body speak.
Let my hips move.
------------------------------------------
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Wetness splashed from between us.
His cock now slick and shining.
------------------------------------------
And I moaned harder.
Louder.
My mouth open.
Eyes half closed.
Face flushed.
------------------------------------------
And he?
He moaned too.
Soft.
Like a whisper.
Like a man afraid to ruin the moment.
------------------------------------------
His breath matched mine.
Not aggressive.
Not dirty.
But deep.
Warm.
------------------------------------------
And I liked it.
Liked seeing him happy.
Liked that his eyes looked thankful.
Almost… grateful.
------------------------------------------
Something in that made me warmer.
Not in heart.
In cunt.
My folds softened more.
Opened more.
------------------------------------------
Pain had fully changed now.
To ache.
To stretch.
To need.
------------------------------------------
But I couldn’t let him forget.
Who was on top.
Who made this happen.
Who was the queen.
------------------------------------------
So I slapped him again.
This time—
Harder.
Right across his jaw.
It echoed.
------------------------------------------
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t close eyes.
Didn’t complain.
He took it.
Like a loyal dog.
------------------------------------------
I spat again.
This time—
On his lips.
Direct.
Juicy.
Marking him.
------------------------------------------
Then another slap.
On the other cheek.
He moaned.
Not in pain.
In pleasure.
------------------------------------------
My body bounced again.
I rode him harder now.
No more slow.
Full strokes.
All the way up.
All the way down.
------------------------------------------
The slap made me hornier.
The spit made me wetter.
The power fed my hips.
------------------------------------------
His cock hit deep now.
Each down push—
Reached the end of me.
I gasped.
Eyes rolled.
------------------------------------------
Saree stuck to my back.
Petticoat soaked.
Blouse wet under breasts.
Hair clinging to neck.
I was a mess.
But I was queen.
------------------------------------------
My body did it all.
Thighs.
Waist.
Spine.
Pussy.
Every part helped fuck him.
------------------------------------------
Tank water splashing.
Cock sliding.
Juice dripping.
Moans echoing.
------------------------------------------
I looked down again.
His face—
Still there.
Still worshipping.
Still moaning softly with me.
------------------------------------------
I wasn’t just riding him.
I was using him.
Using a real cock.
One that had size.
One that had worth.
------------------------------------------
Not like Kartik.
Not like his plastic pokes.
Or his selfish 2-minute thrusts.
------------------------------------------
Not like poor Arjun.
His sweetness couldn’t fill me.
His innocence couldn’t stretch me.
------------------------------------------
But this?
This thick, hard, pulsing beast?
My pussy had been aching for this.
------------------------------------------
For two full months.
Quietly.
Softly.
But madly.
------------------------------------------
And now—
Finally—
I was fucking with real cock, which my pussy was aching from last 2 months.
------------------------------------------
I continue to ride him.
Faster now.
Harder.
Heavy thrusts.
My hips pounding down.
------------------------------------------
No grace.
No rhythm.
Just raw hunger.
My thighs slap his waist.
My cunt grips and swallows.
------------------------------------------
I take a pause.
Every five.
Every ten thrusts.
I don’t know the count.
I can’t.
I’m not thinking.
------------------------------------------
I moan between them.
Loud. Wet. Raw.
My mouth stays open.
Like I’m drinking air.
Or begging for more.
------------------------------------------
My hands on his chest.
Fingers curled.
Nails leaving marks.
Blouse soaked.
Hair all over my face.
------------------------------------------
I move again.
Down. Up. Down.
Up.
The tank echoes with our bodies.
Water splashing softly.
My breath like thunder.
------------------------------------------
His cock—
It doesn’t give up.
Still thick.
Still strong.
Still stretching me.
Still fucking me.
------------------------------------------
I keep riding.
Keep bouncing.
Keep losing control.
The heat builds.
Low in my belly.
Deep in my cunt.
------------------------------------------
I don’t know time.
5 minutes?
10?
Maybe more.
Maybe less.
I don’t care.
------------------------------------------
Because something…
Something is changing.
Inside me.
In my pussy.
In my legs.
------------------------------------------
It starts as a buzz.
Then a wave.
Then a… something.
I can’t name it.
But it’s big.
It’s coming.
------------------------------------------
It feels like my body is pulling.
Tightening.
Reaching for something far.
But close.
So close.
------------------------------------------
My walls tighten around him.
My cunt feels like a mouth now.
Sucking. Drinking. Claiming.
I moan again.
Louder.
------------------------------------------
He moans too.
But soft.
Like a man praying.
But I?
I’m drowning.
I’m flying.
I’m breaking.
------------------------------------------
That something grows.
Inside me.
Below my navel.
Above my thighs.
In my bones.
In my soul.
------------------------------------------
Is this…
Is this it?
Is this what Kavita said?
That word.
That strange, secret word.
Orgasm?
------------------------------------------
I don’t know.
I never felt it like this.
Not with Kartik.
Not even when Arjun used his tongue.
That was sweet.
But this?
------------------------------------------
This is wild.
This is war.
My whole cunt is alive.
And it’s not mine anymore.
It belongs to the feeling.
------------------------------------------
I stop moving for a second.
Body stiffens.
Legs shaking.
Eyes wide.
Breath stuck.
Fingers digging.
------------------------------------------
Then it comes.
Like lightning.
Like flood.
Like explosion inside my pussy.
I scream.
------------------------------------------
Scream like a slut.
Like a woman set on fire.
Like a queen falling from sky.
The tank echoes.
My moan bounces off every wall.
------------------------------------------
I don’t care.
If neighbors hear.
If birds fly.
If gods watch.
I scream again.
Mouth wide.
Drool slipping.
------------------------------------------
My legs tremble.
My thighs lock.
My pussy grips his cock like claws.
Juice bursts.
Liquid gushes.
------------------------------------------
From deep inside.
From the core.
From places untouched for years.
I’m leaking.
Flooding.
Soaking his cock, balls, thighs.
------------------------------------------
It’s not pee.
It’s me.
My orgasm.
My first.
With cock inside.
With someone beneath.
------------------------------------------
I gasp.
Shake.
Cry.
Moan.
Collapse.
------------------------------------------
My body can't stay up.
My soul just gave up.
I fall forward.
Heavy.
Loose.
Breathless.
------------------------------------------
My chest lands on him.
My breasts press into his ribs.
My cheek rests near his neck.
I smell his sweat.
His skin.
------------------------------------------
I hear his heartbeat.
Fast.
Like he’s shocked.
But proud.
Like he just won something.
------------------------------------------
My cunt still holding him.
Still full.
Still dripping.
Still open.
But I’m done.
------------------------------------------
My hips stop.
My thighs fall.
No more ride.
Only rest.
Only heat.
------------------------------------------
I don’t speak.
Don’t look.
Just breathe.
Let my face lie on his shoulder.
Let my body melt into him.
------------------------------------------
His arms don’t move.
He stays still.
Like furniture.
Like throne.
And I?
I lie on it.
------------------------------------------
His queen.
Naked inside.
Clothed outside.
Wrecked inside.
Silent outside.
------------------------------------------
My mouth brushes his ear.
My nose near his jaw.
My fingers curl against his skin.
But I don’t rise.
Not yet.
------------------------------------------
Because this—
This is peace.
This is what I never had.
This is what I became.
This is who I am now.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
Still inside me.
Fully.
Resting.
Like a sword in its scabbard.
Like a secret I’ll never confess.
------------------------------------------
I sigh.
Soft.
My breath touches his collarbone.
My lashes close.
My thighs still shaking.
But it’s done.
------------------------------------------
I’ve lied on him.
Not fallen.
Claimed.
My first orgasm on cock.
On this cock.
On this filthy bastard.
------------------------------------------
And now I lie.
Heavy.
Spent.
Marked.
My crown invisible.
But real.
------------------------------------------
His queen.
On him.
Slowly.
Not all at once.
Bit by bit.
So I could feel every ridge, every edge.
------------------------------------------
His thickness slid out.
Like dragging a full branch from a wet tunnel.
My cunt gripped it.
Didn’t want to let go.
But I pulled.
------------------------------------------
Not to escape.
But to adjust.
To let my body breathe.
And then—
To welcome him again.
Properly.
------------------------------------------
The head left me with a pop.
A sound so soft, yet so filthy.
My pussy felt open.
Like lips left wide after a deep kiss.
I shivered.
------------------------------------------
Water licked my ankles.
My inner thighs dripped.
Juice. Sweat. Maybe a drop of blood.
I didn’t care.
I was already ruined.
------------------------------------------
His cockhead rested under me.
Still wet.
Still hard.
Still thick.
Like it missed being inside.
------------------------------------------
I raised my hips just a little.
Then aimed again.
Used my right hand to guide.
Held the base.
Thick. Pulsing. Hot.
------------------------------------------
I lowered my hips.
Not fast.
Just an inch.
Then another.
Letting him in—
Again.
------------------------------------------
My pussy sucked him back.
Slowly.
Greedy.
Hungry.
Wider this time.
------------------------------------------
Juice coated him.
Made the glide smoother.
My inner lips parted.
Pushed out.
Opened with every drop of weight I gave.
------------------------------------------
I moaned.
Couldn’t help it.
It wasn’t pain now.
Not like before.
But pressure.
Full pressure.
------------------------------------------
Like my pussy was swallowing something sacred.
Or dangerous.
Or both.
------------------------------------------
His cock entered inch by inch.
Like a train pushing into tight tunnel.
Every line of his skin—
Every thick vein—
Pressed into me.
------------------------------------------
I felt it all.
Against my walls.
Filling spaces I didn’t know I had.
Stretching folds I thought belonged to no one.
Not even Kartik.
------------------------------------------
And still—
I was going lower.
His cockhead reached deep.
Base still outside.
I wasn't done.
------------------------------------------
I pushed again.
My arms stiffened.
My thighs shook.
I bit my lip.
And dropped.
------------------------------------------
All of me.
All my weight.
Crashing.
Letting his cock tear its way in.
One brutal stroke.
------------------------------------------
I felt it.
That final second.
Where his cock pushed past the last tight ring inside me.
And my pussy…
Swallowed him whole.
------------------------------------------
Every inch.
Buried.
His root touching my cunt lips.
His balls brushing my ass.
My body?
Split. Full. Claimed.
------------------------------------------
A moan came out of me.
Not a high one.
But deep.
From my gut.
From the shame.
From the pleasure.
------------------------------------------
My cunt burned.
Not outside.
Inside.
Like someone poured hot oil in.
But the oil had veins.
And I could feel every one of them.
------------------------------------------
His cock didn’t just fill me.
It pulsed inside me.
It spoke to my flesh.
Each throb—
Like a knock.
Like a hello.
Like a you’re mine now.
------------------------------------------
I gasped.
Tried to breathe.
My chest was tight.
My nipples stiff inside my blouse.
They hurt from rubbing cloth.
But nothing compared to my hole.
------------------------------------------
That hole—
My sweet soft pussy—
Now stretched around this bastard’s cock.
And yet?
It loved it.
Every stretch.
Every beat.
Every thick vein.
------------------------------------------
I’d never felt this.
Not with Kartik.
He was too small.
Too dry.
Too fast.
Too selfish.
------------------------------------------
Arjun?
He had length.
Not this width.
He fucked with heart.
But this—
This cock fucked with history.
------------------------------------------
It felt like it had seen things.
Ruined women.
Taught cunts.
And now—
It was inside me.
------------------------------------------
I exhaled.
Long. Slow.
My stomach tightened.
Pain twisted up my back.
But I didn’t rise.
I stayed there.
Full.
Plugged.
------------------------------------------
I looked down.
At his face.
He was still.
But his eyes?
They were watching my pain.
Watching my expression.
------------------------------------------
And he loved it.
That made me boil.
This ugly bastard—
Enjoying my tension.
My struggle.
My fall.
------------------------------------------
So I slapped him.
Hard.
Fingers spread.
Right on his cheek.
His head turned a little.
Water splashed near his ear.
------------------------------------------
But he didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t frown.
His cock twitched inside me.
That was his reply.
------------------------------------------
I spat on him.
Right on his face.
A long, thick spit.
From my tongue.
Onto his cheek. Nose. Mouth.
------------------------------------------
It dripped down slowly.
Like claiming him back.
Like marking him.
The way he marked me inside.
------------------------------------------
Still no reaction.
No anger.
No shame.
Just those deep eyes.
Taking everything.
Saying nothing.
------------------------------------------
I snarled.
Scolded.
“Hey! This is not for you.”
He blinked.
“This is for me. Don’t over imagine.”
------------------------------------------
I said it with teeth.
But my body?
It loved being watched.
Loved being felt.
Loved being ruined.
------------------------------------------
Even if he couldn’t see my body—
Everything was under saree.
Blouse. Petticoat.
My modesty was intact.
But my cunt?
Was being made into a memory.
------------------------------------------
He could only see my face.
Nothing else.
But that was enough.
My face held all the shame.
All the tension.
All the betrayal.
------------------------------------------
And I saw it in his eyes.
He loved it.
Loved watching me fall apart.
With his cock buried inside.
------------------------------------------
But I wasn’t done.
I started thinking—
This pain…
Will it turn into pleasure?
Will this stretch become hunger?
------------------------------------------
I licked my lips.
Wiped my sweat.
Held my thighs tighter.
And slowly—
I lifted my hips.
------------------------------------------
Just a little.
His cock dragged inside me.
Vein by vein.
Like pulling out a thick, live rope.
------------------------------------------
My hole gripped him.
Didn’t want him to leave.
But I had to move.
Had to ride.
Had to take him in again.
------------------------------------------
I pushed back down.
Not full.
Just enough.
To tease myself.
To learn his shape.
------------------------------------------
My cunt widened again.
Welcoming.
Juice leaked down my thighs.
Mixing with tank water.
And I knew—
I was ready to ride.
------------------------------------------
Now I started to pull little.
Just a small lift.
An inch.
Maybe less.
His cock dragged inside me.
------------------------------------------
Then I pushed.
Down again.
Same inch.
Maybe a bit more.
My pussy opened again.
Welcomed again.
------------------------------------------
It hurt less now.
Still tight.
Still full.
But the edge of pain?
Softening.
Turning into heat.
------------------------------------------
I did it again.
Up a little.
Then down.
A rhythm was forming.
Between my thighs.
------------------------------------------
His cock was learning my shape.
Or maybe my pussy was learning his.
Like puzzle pieces.
Trying to lock.
Trying to melt.
------------------------------------------
I moaned.
First real moan.
Not because it hurt.
Because it felt.
Felt like something my body missed.
------------------------------------------
He still didn’t move.
Didn’t raise hands.
Didn’t buck hips.
Didn’t talk.
Just lay flat.
------------------------------------------
Panty gone from his face.
Now I could see him.
Every little twitch.
Every inch of breath.
Every drop of sweat.
------------------------------------------
His eyes looked up.
At me.
Not like lover.
Not like man.
Like beggar.
Like servant.
------------------------------------------
Like he got something divine today.
His face was glowing.
Eyes filled.
Not just with lust.
With… devotion.
------------------------------------------
I could see it.
That ugly face.
Dark skin.
Hair stuck to forehead.
But still—
He looked like a man who just saw goddess.
------------------------------------------
And I?
Was the goddess.
Not out of pride.
But truth.
A high-class woman.
Married.
Mother.
Polished.
Covered in red cotton.
------------------------------------------
And I was riding this—
This filthy security.
This tank cleaner.
This dog.
------------------------------------------
But he didn’t act dirty.
He didn’t smirk.
Didn’t bite lip.
Didn’t joke.
He just watched.
------------------------------------------
His eyes wide.
His mouth open slightly.
Chest moving fast.
As if he didn’t believe this was real.
------------------------------------------
And that—
That made it filthier.
That made it sweeter.
I was his dream.
And I was fucking myself on him.
------------------------------------------
My pussy started leaking more.
The friction helped.
Juices coated his cock.
Made it easier.
Made the ride smoother.
------------------------------------------
I used that.
Started to move more.
Up—down.
Up.
Down.
------------------------------------------
Slow at first.
Feeling every inch.
Making it real.
Making it last.
------------------------------------------
His cock rubbed all inside.
Sides. Bottom. Roof.
Everywhere.
I could feel his veins—
Pressed into my flesh.
------------------------------------------
I used my thighs now.
Used my back.
Used my waist.
Started bouncing lightly.
Tank water rippled below.
------------------------------------------
Moans came out more now.
From my mouth.
From my chest.
Even from my pussy.
That soft wet chukk chukk.
Soaked sounds.
------------------------------------------
His eyes—
They filled with something I didn’t expect.
Not just arousal.
But… joy.
------------------------------------------
He was happy.
Like a man seeing light after years of dark.
Like a dog finally allowed on bed.
Like a slave kissed by queen.
------------------------------------------
That word hit me.
Slave.
That’s what he looked like.
Beneath me.
Naked.
Still.
Cock inside his owner.
------------------------------------------
And I was riding him.
Not as his woman.
Not as his lover.
As his queen.
His higher being.
------------------------------------------
It made my cunt tighter.
I clenched around his cock.
And he twitched inside me.
A full pulse.
Like a heartbeat from his cock to my soul.
------------------------------------------
I didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
I let my body speak.
Let my hips move.
------------------------------------------
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Wetness splashed from between us.
His cock now slick and shining.
------------------------------------------
And I moaned harder.
Louder.
My mouth open.
Eyes half closed.
Face flushed.
------------------------------------------
And he?
He moaned too.
Soft.
Like a whisper.
Like a man afraid to ruin the moment.
------------------------------------------
His breath matched mine.
Not aggressive.
Not dirty.
But deep.
Warm.
------------------------------------------
And I liked it.
Liked seeing him happy.
Liked that his eyes looked thankful.
Almost… grateful.
------------------------------------------
Something in that made me warmer.
Not in heart.
In cunt.
My folds softened more.
Opened more.
------------------------------------------
Pain had fully changed now.
To ache.
To stretch.
To need.
------------------------------------------
But I couldn’t let him forget.
Who was on top.
Who made this happen.
Who was the queen.
------------------------------------------
So I slapped him again.
This time—
Harder.
Right across his jaw.
It echoed.
------------------------------------------
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t close eyes.
Didn’t complain.
He took it.
Like a loyal dog.
------------------------------------------
I spat again.
This time—
On his lips.
Direct.
Juicy.
Marking him.
------------------------------------------
Then another slap.
On the other cheek.
He moaned.
Not in pain.
In pleasure.
------------------------------------------
My body bounced again.
I rode him harder now.
No more slow.
Full strokes.
All the way up.
All the way down.
------------------------------------------
The slap made me hornier.
The spit made me wetter.
The power fed my hips.
------------------------------------------
His cock hit deep now.
Each down push—
Reached the end of me.
I gasped.
Eyes rolled.
------------------------------------------
Saree stuck to my back.
Petticoat soaked.
Blouse wet under breasts.
Hair clinging to neck.
I was a mess.
But I was queen.
------------------------------------------
My body did it all.
Thighs.
Waist.
Spine.
Pussy.
Every part helped fuck him.
------------------------------------------
Tank water splashing.
Cock sliding.
Juice dripping.
Moans echoing.
------------------------------------------
I looked down again.
His face—
Still there.
Still worshipping.
Still moaning softly with me.
------------------------------------------
I wasn’t just riding him.
I was using him.
Using a real cock.
One that had size.
One that had worth.
------------------------------------------
Not like Kartik.
Not like his plastic pokes.
Or his selfish 2-minute thrusts.
------------------------------------------
Not like poor Arjun.
His sweetness couldn’t fill me.
His innocence couldn’t stretch me.
------------------------------------------
But this?
This thick, hard, pulsing beast?
My pussy had been aching for this.
------------------------------------------
For two full months.
Quietly.
Softly.
But madly.
------------------------------------------
And now—
Finally—
I was fucking with real cock, which my pussy was aching from last 2 months.
------------------------------------------
I continue to ride him.
Faster now.
Harder.
Heavy thrusts.
My hips pounding down.
------------------------------------------
No grace.
No rhythm.
Just raw hunger.
My thighs slap his waist.
My cunt grips and swallows.
------------------------------------------
I take a pause.
Every five.
Every ten thrusts.
I don’t know the count.
I can’t.
I’m not thinking.
------------------------------------------
I moan between them.
Loud. Wet. Raw.
My mouth stays open.
Like I’m drinking air.
Or begging for more.
------------------------------------------
My hands on his chest.
Fingers curled.
Nails leaving marks.
Blouse soaked.
Hair all over my face.
------------------------------------------
I move again.
Down. Up. Down.
Up.
The tank echoes with our bodies.
Water splashing softly.
My breath like thunder.
------------------------------------------
His cock—
It doesn’t give up.
Still thick.
Still strong.
Still stretching me.
Still fucking me.
------------------------------------------
I keep riding.
Keep bouncing.
Keep losing control.
The heat builds.
Low in my belly.
Deep in my cunt.
------------------------------------------
I don’t know time.
5 minutes?
10?
Maybe more.
Maybe less.
I don’t care.
------------------------------------------
Because something…
Something is changing.
Inside me.
In my pussy.
In my legs.
------------------------------------------
It starts as a buzz.
Then a wave.
Then a… something.
I can’t name it.
But it’s big.
It’s coming.
------------------------------------------
It feels like my body is pulling.
Tightening.
Reaching for something far.
But close.
So close.
------------------------------------------
My walls tighten around him.
My cunt feels like a mouth now.
Sucking. Drinking. Claiming.
I moan again.
Louder.
------------------------------------------
He moans too.
But soft.
Like a man praying.
But I?
I’m drowning.
I’m flying.
I’m breaking.
------------------------------------------
That something grows.
Inside me.
Below my navel.
Above my thighs.
In my bones.
In my soul.
------------------------------------------
Is this…
Is this it?
Is this what Kavita said?
That word.
That strange, secret word.
Orgasm?
------------------------------------------
I don’t know.
I never felt it like this.
Not with Kartik.
Not even when Arjun used his tongue.
That was sweet.
But this?
------------------------------------------
This is wild.
This is war.
My whole cunt is alive.
And it’s not mine anymore.
It belongs to the feeling.
------------------------------------------
I stop moving for a second.
Body stiffens.
Legs shaking.
Eyes wide.
Breath stuck.
Fingers digging.
------------------------------------------
Then it comes.
Like lightning.
Like flood.
Like explosion inside my pussy.
I scream.
------------------------------------------
Scream like a slut.
Like a woman set on fire.
Like a queen falling from sky.
The tank echoes.
My moan bounces off every wall.
------------------------------------------
I don’t care.
If neighbors hear.
If birds fly.
If gods watch.
I scream again.
Mouth wide.
Drool slipping.
------------------------------------------
My legs tremble.
My thighs lock.
My pussy grips his cock like claws.
Juice bursts.
Liquid gushes.
------------------------------------------
From deep inside.
From the core.
From places untouched for years.
I’m leaking.
Flooding.
Soaking his cock, balls, thighs.
------------------------------------------
It’s not pee.
It’s me.
My orgasm.
My first.
With cock inside.
With someone beneath.
------------------------------------------
I gasp.
Shake.
Cry.
Moan.
Collapse.
------------------------------------------
My body can't stay up.
My soul just gave up.
I fall forward.
Heavy.
Loose.
Breathless.
------------------------------------------
My chest lands on him.
My breasts press into his ribs.
My cheek rests near his neck.
I smell his sweat.
His skin.
------------------------------------------
I hear his heartbeat.
Fast.
Like he’s shocked.
But proud.
Like he just won something.
------------------------------------------
My cunt still holding him.
Still full.
Still dripping.
Still open.
But I’m done.
------------------------------------------
My hips stop.
My thighs fall.
No more ride.
Only rest.
Only heat.
------------------------------------------
I don’t speak.
Don’t look.
Just breathe.
Let my face lie on his shoulder.
Let my body melt into him.
------------------------------------------
His arms don’t move.
He stays still.
Like furniture.
Like throne.
And I?
I lie on it.
------------------------------------------
His queen.
Naked inside.
Clothed outside.
Wrecked inside.
Silent outside.
------------------------------------------
My mouth brushes his ear.
My nose near his jaw.
My fingers curl against his skin.
But I don’t rise.
Not yet.
------------------------------------------
Because this—
This is peace.
This is what I never had.
This is what I became.
This is who I am now.
------------------------------------------
And his cock?
Still inside me.
Fully.
Resting.
Like a sword in its scabbard.
Like a secret I’ll never confess.
------------------------------------------
I sigh.
Soft.
My breath touches his collarbone.
My lashes close.
My thighs still shaking.
But it’s done.
------------------------------------------
I’ve lied on him.
Not fallen.
Claimed.
My first orgasm on cock.
On this cock.
On this filthy bastard.
------------------------------------------
And now I lie.
Heavy.
Spent.
Marked.
My crown invisible.
But real.
------------------------------------------
His queen.
On him.
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