Adultery Between Nabila and Ranjeet

[naj0501]

After Ranjeet’s car went off into the Delhi night, my flat on the 20th floor became quiet, finally peaceful after all the noise and excitement of the day. The walls, which were earlier full of children’s laughter and the sounds of people chatting and glasses clinking, now felt still. Only the soft sound of the ceiling fan was there, spinning slowly like a background tune.
Adnan had plopped down on the living room sofa, his attention glued to his tablet, fingers tapping away at a game. The sounds of digital chimes and celebratory pings filled the room while I quietly walked to my bedroom.
There, I stood before the mirror, my fingers slowly tracing the edge of my veil, feeling the soft fabric beneath my fingertips. A long sigh escaped my lips, the day’s weight pressing down on my shoulders. With a quiet, deliberate movement, I unpinned the veil and let it slip from my head. It slid down my shoulders like silk, brushing against my skin before falling onto the bed in a delicate heap. I watched it land, soft and silent, a symbol of the roles I carried all day. My head tingled as the cool air touched it, and I ran my fingers through my loosened hair, letting it fall over my back in waves, relishing the quiet intimacy of the moment. My dark hair tumbled free, and I shook it loose, welcoming the airy relief.
In the bathroom, I leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on my face, washing off the layers of the day-makeup, heat, lingering fragments of noise.
Feeling a little better, I slowly walked to the kitchen. The smell of strong black coffee started filling the air as I made myself a cup.
Holding the warm mug in my hands, I walked back to the living room and saw Adnan already fast asleep on the sofa. His tablet was still in his small hands, the screen glowing faintly. A small smile came to my face. I slowly took the tablet from him, careful not to wake him, and placed it on the table. Then I kissed his forehead gently and pulled a soft blanket over him. After that, I picked up my phone from the side table and walked towards the balcony.
As soon as I stepped out, the cool night breeze touched my face. I sat on the balcony chair and took a slow sip of my coffee, enjoying the quiet. Then I opened WhatsApp on my phone. So many messages had come for Adnan’s birthday. One by one, I read them all and replied with a smile. My fingers kept typing as my heart felt full seeing so much love from family and friends for my little boy.
Just then, the doorbell rang, breaking the silence. My heart gave a small jump. Who could it be so late at night? I quickly kept my mug on the small table in the balcony and rushed to the door, adjusting my kameez on the way. I peeked through the peephole and saw Ranjeet standing there, looking a little unsure, with his jacket hanging from one shoulder.
I opened the door. "I’m such a fool," he said with a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck. "I forgot my phone." Just a little while ago, I had seen his phone lying on the couch’s armrest when I was moving a balloon to the side. Its screen had lit up for a second under the lamp’s light. I had smiled to myself then, shaking my head.
"Come in," I said, stepping aside.
He entered slowly, brushing past me. I could smell his cedar cologne again-it made my skin tingle. I pointed toward the couch. "It’s right there. You left it next to the armrest."
Ranjeet picked up the phone, but instead of going straight to the door, he stopped and turned to look at me. His eyes stayed on my hair, falling freely over my shoulders. "You look... different," he said softly, almost like he was seeing me for the first time.
I felt my cheeks getting hot. My voice was low as I said, "Just relaxing a bit." I gave a small smile, but my heart was beating fast. I became very aware of my open hair, the soft fall of it on my shoulders, and how he was still looking at me. Something about the way he stood there, silent and close, made the air between us feel heavy ,like something was waiting to happen.
He took a small step closer. "I should go," he murmured, but he didn’t move. Neither did I.
His eyes travelled slowly over my face, then to my hair, then down to my bare neck. "You are really very beautiful, Nabila," he said, his voice soft and honest. "I’ve never seen you like this before... free, glowing. It suits you."
I felt shy, but also something warm spread through me. I looked down, my fingers touching my hair, feeling a little nervous but also something more. I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked at him again, and that was enough. The moment between us grew stronger, quiet but powerful.
My breath stopped for a second as he lifted his hand slowly and softly moved a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were warm and gentle, making my skin feel something I couldn’t explain.
I looked up at him, my heart thudding. I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to.
And then, like something silent was pulling us closer, we both leaned in slowly. Our faces came close, breath touching breath. For a second, I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine, as if both of us were asking the same question without words. Then, softly, our lips met. It was our first kiss-gentle and slow, full of hesitation but also something deep inside. My eyes closed on their own, and I felt his warmth, his closeness.
The kiss was not rushed. It grew slowly, sweetly, as if we were exploring something new, something we had both wanted but were too afraid to accept. His hand came up and rested lightly on my waist, while my fingers touched his arm. I could feel my heart beating fast, my body awake like never before. The world outside faded. Nothing else mattered. It was just him and me, in that quiet room, in that one magical moment that felt like a dream finally coming true.
The kiss slowly became deeper, our lips moving together like they already knew each other. He pulled me a little closer, his hand firm but gentle on my waist. I could feel his breath on my face-warm, slightly heavy, mixed with the smell of coffee and his cologne. It made something stir inside me.
I opened my lips just a bit, and he did the same. When our tongues touched, it was slow and soft, like a first step into something new. His tongue was warm, smooth, and tasted a little like mint and coffee. It moved with mine gently, exploring, teasing. I felt a soft moan rise in my throat, and I didn’t stop it. He pressed closer, his hand moving slightly up my back, holding me more tightly.
My fingers gripped his shirt, and my body leaned into him naturally. His kisses became more passionate, deeper, slower but more hungry. Our tongues moved together, sometimes playful, sometimes needy. Every movement made my skin tingle, my body come alive. I could feel the heat between us growing, and still, neither of us wanted to stop.
We kissed like time had paused - slow, warm, and full of feeling. But soon, the kiss became more hungry. Our lips moved faster, our bodies pressed closer. His hands held me like he didn’t want to let go. Our tongues met again and again, playing, tasting, wanting more. I moaned softly into his mouth, and he pulled me even closer. It felt like we had waited for this moment forever.
For a few minutes, we kissed like we were lost in each other-our breathing heavy, hearts racing, lips and tongues moving with deep need. Then slowly, we both pulled back, still holding each other, both of us breathless.
We broke apart, our foreheads resting together, both of us breathing hard. I was smiling like a fool, unable to stop myself. Ranjeet was smiling too, his breath uneven, eyes still locked on mine. My heart was beating fast, and I felt this wild, happy rush inside me. I didn’t think, didn’t speak-just looked at him, letting my eyes say what words couldn’t.
Then, with a playful shine in his eyes, he suddenly lifted me up in his arms, like I weighed nothing. I let out a small gasp, then laughed, my arms going around his neck. My face was so close to his, I could feel his breath.
“Ranjeet!” I whispered with a giggle, but I didn’t ask him to stop.
He carried me through the hallway, my bare feet hanging in the air. The floor passed by in a blur, but I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, loud and fast. I could also feel his heart beating steady against me.
I pushed open my bedroom door with my legs, and the soft smell of jasmine and sandalwood candles welcomed us. He stepped in and gently placed me on the floor near the bed which was covered in a soft quilt. But even after putting me down, his hands stayed on my waist.
I looked up at him, my eyes not hiding anything-open, a little shy, but not afraid. The door closed behind him with a soft click. The room fell silent, full of something new, something waiting. Just the two of us, in that moment, in that space, where anything could happen.
He stepped closer and gently cupped my face in his hands. His palms were rough, warm, and slightly calloused -each touch sparked tiny waves through my skin. I could feel a strange current travel from my cheeks to my chest, making me shiver without even realizing it.
Our breaths mingled, warm and hesitant, before our lips finally touched. The moment his mouth met mine, my eyes fluttered shut on their own. His lips were soft, careful, almost reverent. The kiss wasn’t rushed. It was tender-slow like a secret being spoken for the first time. I felt a gentle pull in my chest, a sweet ache blooming as his kiss deepened. It was the kind of kiss that made the world vanish, leaving behind only breath, warmth, and two hearts finding their rhythm together.
And soon, the kiss grew deeper. His lips moved with more hunger, more urgency. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of me. He pressed harder, kissing me like he had waited too long. His mouth parted mine, tasting, exploring, pulling gently, then with need. Every movement was filled with passion-messy, real, and full of desire he could no longer hide.
I felt the tip of his tongue gently press against my teeth, teasing, asking for more. My lips parted without hesitation. His tongue slipped inside, warm and searching. It moved slowly at first, exploring the inside of my mouth, brushing against the walls of my cheeks, before softly dancing with mine. Every touch sent a wave of heat through me, pulling me deeper into the kiss.
My arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt under my touch. His hands were on my back, large and warm, moving slowly. He caressed my spine in long, tender strokes-his palms trailing from the curve of my waist all the way up to the nape of my neck. Each glide of his hand left a trail of heat, making my back tingle, my breath catch. His touch was both calming and exciting, steady and searching, like he was learning the shape of me through every gentle pass.
His kiss grew deeper, and soon our breaths tangled into one, warm and heavy. I could feel his breath on my tongue, my lips, like we were drawing air from each other. My lips began to sting slightly from the intensity-tender and swollen from his eager pressure-but even that pain felt like a gift. It made everything feel real. Alive. Desired.
I felt the firm pressure of his arousal against my belly. It was bold, undeniable, and sent a rush of warmth through my core. Slowly, I slid my hand from around his neck down to his chest. His heart was pounding hard beneath my palm-fast and heavy, just like mine. That rhythm… it told me everything he wasn’t saying aloud.
Then he paused. His breath hovered over my lips and nose, warm and quick. My lips throbbed from the kiss but felt strangely relieved, like they had been waiting for that release. I slowly opened my eyes. His face was close,too close to miss the fire in his gaze. His eyes locked with mine, deep and intense, filled with a storm of passion, desire, and something unspoken that made my chest tighten.
He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, pulling me into his embrace until there was no space left between us. I could feel the full length of his body pressed against mine-warm, firm, and unyielding. I let my hands slide over his back, holding him just as tightly. The closeness made everything feel intense-his heartbeat, his breath, his warmth-all of it sinking into me.
His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. "Nabila... I love you," he said, his words rough around the edges, like they’d been waiting a long time to come out. His eyes didn’t blink. They just held mine, like he needed me to feel every syllable.
My heart skipped a beat the moment I heard those words. It had been years-maybe a lifetime-since anyone had said those beautiful,lovely words to me. The sound of his voice, filled with love, cracked something deep inside. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.
Ranjeet leaned in and pressed his lips softly against my cheek, right where the tear was sliding down. His kiss was warm and tender. Then, slowly, he traced the path of the tear with his tongue, following it all the way up to the corner of my eye, as if he wanted to taste every emotion I had just let slip.
Then he began planting slow, tender kisses across my face. First on one cheek, then the other. A soft press on my forehead, then a warm kiss on the tip of my nose. Each touch was careful, full of feeling, as if he wanted to memorize me through his lips. He didn’t miss a spot-every kiss felt like a silent confession, deeper than words.
He pressed a soft kiss on my lips, then slowly trailed his mouth down to my neck. His lips brushed my skin, warm and open, sending shivers through me. As he kissed the curve of my neck, he reached up with one hand, found the edge of my dupatta, and gently tugged. The fabric slid off my shoulder, smooth and weightless, before he let it fall to the bed behind me-quiet and effortless, like shedding hesitation itself.
My fingers slid into his hair, gently curling and tugging, feeling the softness between my fingertips. He lingered at my neck for a moment longer, his tongue brushing lightly over the skin before his lips returned to mine. The shift was slow, fluid-like his mouth couldn’t stay away, drawn back to mine by something deeper than desire.
Once again, his lips found mine-full of the same passion, the same longing that had set my skin alight before. My eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the moment. I felt his hands roam my back, warm and firm, drawing me closer into him. Then, without warning, his right hand moved around to my front, and gently settled over my left breast. The suddenness of it caught me off guard. My breath hitched, and a soft moan escaped my lips, unbidden and raw.
I opened my eyes slowly, still catching my breath. He had paused, his gaze fixed on mine-intense, searching.
“Kya kar rahe ho, Ranjeet?” I whispered, my voice soft and shaky, more out of emotion than protest.
His hand cupped and pressed my breast gently with a careful, deliberate touch-his palm resting beneath, fingers curving gently over the top. He gave it a soft, slow squeeze, like he was memorizing the feel of me through his hand. Then he looked into my eyes and murmured,
"Woow....tere boob kitte soft hai Darling."
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, a soft laugh slipping past my lips. My cheeks felt warm, my voice teasing but breathless as I asked,
"Did you like it really?"
"Kaun nahi chahega aise khubsurat, naram boobies ko feel karna?" he whispered, his voice deep with longing. "Sach kahun toh, uss din se chahta tha... jab tumhe pehli baar office mein dekha tha."
I tangled my fingers in his hair, giving it a playful tug. My eyes sparkled with mischief as I leaned in close and teased,
"Ohhh... naughty boy, you thought I didn’t notice the way you looked at my breasts when you thought I wasn’t watching? But I saw it all."
He gave my breast a firmer squeeze, his brows playfully furrowed as he leaned in closer.
"Bohot tez ho tum, haan?" he said in a mock scolding tone, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away.
I held his face gently between both my hands and pulled him into another kiss-deep and urgent, our lips moving with hunger. His hands roamed my back again, fingers trailing slowly downward. I felt his palms slide over the curve of my lower back, and then settle firmly on my hips, holding me close. The heat of his touch sent a new wave of shivers through me.
His hands glided slowly over the curves of my hips, tracing their shape with quiet reverence. His touch was firm yet delicate, as though he was committing every contour to memory. He cupped and caressed me like an artist exploring his favorite sculpture-measuring, admiring, savoring every inch beneath his fingers.
He looked into my eyes and spoke in passionate voice
"Nabila, mujhe nahi pata main kahin zyada to nahi bol raha ... lekin tumhare curves ne mujhe pagal bana diya hai. Tum jis tarah se chalti ho, uss ada ne mujhe jaise baandh liya hai. Maine kitni raaten sirf yeh soch kar guzari hain ki tumhein apni baahon mein lekar kaisa feel hoga. Aaj ka din sapne jaisa lag raha hai... main kab se is pal ka intezaar kar raha tha, meri jaan.Nabila…Jadoogarni hai yaar tu…."
I smiled softly, a gentle blush rising in my cheeks as emotion flickered in my eyes. I looked at him playfully and said, "Ab khush ho? Jo chahiye tha, mil gaya na tumhe?"
"Yes, I'm happy," he said with a soft smile, "but there's still more I want... ."
His hands slid slowly up my back, fingers grazing my spine with deliberate care. When they reached the top of my kameez, he paused for just a moment-then gently found the zipper and began to pull it down, inch by inch. The soft sound of the zipper opening seemed louder in the stillness, sending a flutter through my chest as the fabric loosened around me.
He placed his hand softly on my left shoulder and slid the fabric of my kameez aside, revealing the thin strap of my bra against my skin. The cool air touched the exposed spot just before his lips did. He leaned in, brushing a warm kiss over my bare shoulder, then trailed to the strap itself, his mouth lingering there.
"I want all of you, Nabila," he whispered, his eyes blazing with raw hunger and tenderness.
"I'm all yours, Ranjeet" I gently caught his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over his cheeks as I looked into his eyes, steady and full of trust. I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, but certain and full of feeling.
Ranjeet's fingers found the hem of my kameez and slowly began to lift it upward, inch by inch. The fabric slid against my skin, feather-light and warm from my body. I raised my arms without a word, surrendering to his touch, letting him peel the garment off me. He pulled it over my head and let it fall to the floor without a glance.
For the first time in my life, someone other than my husband was seeing me like this-bare, exposed, vulnerable. But there was no fear. No shame. Instead, a strange confidence bloomed within me. I felt beautiful. Desired. Free.
He had waited-patiently, silently, with so much restraint. And in that moment, I felt like he had earned every inch of me he was finally seeing.
I stood still, wearing only my soft blue half-cup bra and matching salwar. The fabric clung lightly to my skin, and a delicate necklace rested just above my cleavage, catching the glow of the bedside lamp. I felt his gaze linger on me, not with lust alone, but admiration.
Then, without a word, he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head and let it fall beside my kameez on the floor-barriers slipping away, one by one.
I looked at his bare torso, slowly taking in every detail. His skin was a rich, deep brown, smooth and warm-toned. His nipples, a darker shade, stood out against his chest. A fine layer of hair trailed over his chest-not thick, just enough to draw the eye. His muscles were well-defined, especially his biceps, which flexed slightly as he moved. He was solidly built, with the kind of strength that looked both powerful and natural.
"Woah... tum roz gym jaate ho kya?" I asked, curiosity laced with admiration in my voice.
"Yes, darling. I work out every day," he said with a proud grin. Then he clenched his fist and flexed his arm, showing off his biceps. "Dekha? Pasand aaya?"
"You're amazing," I said, still admiring the way his body looked under the soft light. "Bilkul perfect ho tum."
"But it's not fair," he said, pretending to pout, a playful frown forming on his face as he crossed his arms dramatically.
"Why?" I asked.
"Tumne toh mera sab kuch dekh liya, lekin tum abhi bhi bra mein ho," he said with a playful smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Ok... ok..." I said with a shy smile, and reached behind to unhook my bra. The clasp came undone easily, and the straps loosened around my shoulders. I slipped it off slowly, letting it fall to the floor beside our clothes. As the cool breeze from the air conditioner brushed against my bare skin, tiny goosebumps rose across my chest. A gentle shiver ran through me-it wasn’t just the cold. It was the way he was looking at me. Like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
I felt a warm blush creeping up my neck as I turned my face slightly, too shy to meet his eyes. But I could sense his gaze-steady, intense-fixed on my bare chest. It made my skin tingle, my breath catch, and yet, somewhere deep inside, I liked the way he was seeing me.
My hands instinctively moved to cover my breasts, but he gently caught them and guided them away. His eyes stayed on mine for a heartbeat longer, asking without words. Then his hands cupped both of my breasts, warm and firm, his fingers pressing into the softness with a slow, deliberate rhythm. A soft gasp escaped me as he began to knead them gently, exploring their shape like he was discovering something sacred. Then he lowered his head, and his lips found one of my nipples, kissing it tenderly before drawing it into the warmth of his mouth.
My eyes fluttered shut and a low gasp slipped from my lips as his teeth gently chewed my nipple. The sensation was sharp yet tender, sending jolts through my body. My fingers instinctively wove into his hair, holding him close, playing with the soft strands as my breath grew uneven from the overwhelming wave of pleasure.
He moved from one breast to the other, his hands kneading them slowly, firmly, as his lips and tongue worshipped each nipple in turn. I arched back instinctively, my head tilted, eyes shut tight as soft moans escaped me-unfiltered and deep. His touch, his mouth, everything he did made my body respond in ways I hadn’t felt in years.
"Aaahhh," I cried out sharply, the sudden bite on my nipple sending a jolt through my body. It wasn’t gentle-it was rough, raw, and intense. My back arched and my fingers gripped his hair tighter, caught between surprise and the rush of sensation flooding through me.
"Ranjeet... kya kar rahe ho tum?" I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of surprise and anticipation.
"Kuch nahi... bas pyaar ke nishaan chhod raha hoon," he said with a teasing smile, his eyes locked onto mine, filled with playful heat.
Then he gently guided me down onto the bed, his touch slow and careful. I lay back, propped on my elbows, my head slightly lifted as I gazed up at him. The soft sheets cooled my skin, and the way he looked at me-intense, tender-made my pulse quicken.
His fingers moved to the buckle of his jeans, eyes still locked on mine. With slow, unhurried movements, he unfastened them and pulled the zipper down. Then, in one graceful motion, he eased his jeans and boxers down together. His dick, bold and unashamed, revealed itself as he stepped out of the clothes and nudged them aside with his foot. There was confidence in the way he stood, raw and unfiltered, as if nothing else existed but this moment between us.
He wrapped his right hand around his shaft and began stroking it slowly, his movements unhurried and confident. My eyes followed the motion, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and nerves. It was much larger than what I had known -both in length and thickness-and the sight of it stirred a flutter in my chest. There was something unfamiliar about it too, and it took me a moment to realise-it was uncircumcised as Ranjeet was *****. That small detail made it feel even more intimate, more raw, like I was seeing something private and real, meant only for me in this moment.
"Kabhi aisa kuch dekha hai pehle?" Ranjeet asked softly, his voice laced with mischief and heat, as his hand continued its slow, steady motion.
I let out a nervous laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear as I replied, "Sirf filmon mein dekha hai... kabhi itna real nahi laga tha."
"Kya tere Shohar ka aisa nahi hain?" he asked curiously, his tone soft but probing, eyes still fixed on mine.
"Half of it... aur chhodo usse. Loser hai woh," I replied, my voice laced with both dismissal and a quiet ache, as I looked away for a brief second, then met Ranjeet’s eyes again.
"Yes... he truly is a loser," Ranjeet said with a faint smirk, his tone low and final. He stepped closer to the bed, then slowly climbed up, his presence looming and warm. His hands reached for my knees, guiding my legs gently up onto the bed. I followed his lead, breath shallow with anticipation. With a quiet pause, he placed his palms on the insides of my thighs and gently eased them apart.
His fingers found the knot of my salwar. With one smooth tug, the string came undone, and I felt the fabric begin to loosen around my hips. He slid his hands to my waist, grasped the waistband, and looked up at me as if asking silently. I raised my hips slightly, giving him permission. He slid the salwar down slowly, letting it slip past my thighs and off my legs, dropping it onto the floor beside the rest of our clothes.
He gently hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, his touch featherlight and patient. With slow, careful movements, he began to ease them down, inch by inch, watching me as if reading every flicker of emotion in my eyes. The fabric slid down my hips, over my thighs, and finally off, joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor. I was bare now, completely exposed beneath his gaze, and yet I had never felt more seen... or wanted.
He gently spread my legs apart, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin flush. His gaze lowered, lingering over my most intimate part with awe and hunger. A wave of shyness surged through me, and I instinctively moved my hand to cover myself. But he softly caught my wrist and guided it away, never breaking eye contact. Then, lowering his head, he began placing soft, reverent kisses on the inside of my thighs, his lips trailing slowly up, sending shivers through my entire body. Each kiss felt like worship, as if he was savoring every inch of me with silent devotion.
"Aaahhhh," a breathy moan escaped my lips as his mouth touched my pussy. My body arched slightly at the sudden wave of pleasure. I covered my eyes with one hand, overwhelmed by sensation and shyness, but a shy giggle slipped through my lips, unable to hold back the rush of emotion his touch stirred in me.
His lips and tongue began to move with deliberate skill, exploring me with slow, sensual strokes that sent tremors through my core. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, made my thighs quiver and my breath hitch. My left hand reached down and tangled tightly in his hair, anchoring myself to the waves of sensation flooding my body. He licked, circled, and teased, his mouth moving with a rhythm that was both patient and relentless. I writhed beneath him, the sheets rustling under me, my moans escaping freely as pleasure coursed through every inch of me in warm, pulsing waves.
My chest was rising and falling rapidly, heart pounding as I teetered at the edge of release-so close I could almost touch it. But then, just before I tipped over, he paused. The sudden stillness made my breath hitch. I lay there, panting and trembling, my body aching from the interruption. I looked down at him-he was sitting between my parted thighs, his gaze intense, lips glistening, and a wicked, knowing smile playing on his face.
He gripped his dick firmly at the base with his right hand, guiding his length slowly toward my entrance. The heat of him pressed against me, and I felt his gaze settle on my face-steady, searching, tender. "Ready?" he asked in a low whisper, his voice vibrating with desire and care, waiting for my signal to take us further.
"Please" I replied.
With a firm thrust of his hips, he pushed his dick inside me. I gasped as his size filled me, stretching me wide, deeper than I had ever felt before. My body tensed for a moment, adjusting to the sudden fullness. "Aaahhh..." I moaned, the sound escaping my lips as he breached me completely, a mix of surprise, pressure, and overwhelming sensation rippling through me.
He eased himself into me slowly, inch by inch, his movements controlled and deliberate. I could feel every bit of him filling me, deeper and deeper, until he was buried completely inside. My inner walls tightened around him, enveloping him fully. He paused there, unmoving, allowing me time to adjust to his size. My chest rose and fell rapidly, breath catching as my body acclimated to the fullness, to the sheer intimacy of being so completely joined with him.
He leaned over me, his body warm and firm against mine. His hands found mine, fingers weaving tightly through my own, and he gently pinned them to the bed on either side of my head. His grip was strong but comforting, grounding me in the moment. He lowered his face and kissed me deeply, our lips meeting with a mix of tenderness and fire. Our bodies pressed together-skin to skin-my breasts flattening against the hard plane of his chest, making me feel every beat of his heart against mine.
Then I felt him shift his hips, his movements slow and deliberate. He began to withdraw, inch by inch, his thick dick sliding out of me with aching slowness. The friction sent a delicious shiver up my spine, making my toes curl. My inner walls clenched around him, reluctant to let go. The moment he almost left me completely, a deep moan tore from my throat-raw and involuntary.
"Aaahhh..." I gasped, overwhelmed by the stretch, the heat, and the loss of that fullness, even if only for a second.
He pushed his dick back inside me, slow and deep, filling me all over again. The sensation was overwhelming-his thickness stretching me, sliding through the slick heat with deliberate care. My back arched, my fingers clutching his hands tighter, my fingers lacing around his as if trying to hold on to something real, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me.
"Ohhhhhhhh... Ranjeeeettt..." I moaned, the sound heavy with longing and release, my voice trembling with the rawness of how deeply I felt him inside me.
He brushed a tender kiss over my lips, barely touching yet full of feeling. His voice was low, warm against my mouth as he whispered, "I love you, Nabila...."
A tender smile curved my lips as I whispered back, my voice soft and filled with emotion, "I love you too, Ranjeet... more than I ever thought I could love someone again."
He continued fucking me with a steady, unhurried rhythm-his thrusts deep and smooth, sending ripples of pleasure through my entire body. Each time he filled me, I felt another wave build and crash, leaving me trembling beneath him. My skin glistened, my breath came in soft gasps, and the bed creaked faintly with every motion.
Ranjeet’s hands slid up to my breasts again, cupping them with reverence and hunger. His thumbs rolled over my nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks, while his fingers kneaded the soft flesh with a firm, knowing touch. I arched my back, moaning louder as heat spiraled through my core.
Then he lowered his mouth and took one nipple between his lips, sucking it gently at first, then deeper. His tongue circled slowly while his other hand found my second breast, pinching and rolling the nipple until my body writhed beneath him, overwhelmed by the dual sensations.
"“Aaahhh... Nabila... you feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice husky and trembling with pleasure. “So soft... so perfect... my jaan...” he whispered between deep, rhythmic thrusts, his words breaking around each wave of sensation.
I slid my hands into his hair, gripping the back of his head and pulling him down into a kiss. His mouth met mine with an urgency that stole the breath from my lungs. It wasn’t gentle-it was hungry and unfiltered. His tongue thrust deep into my mouth, exploring with wild, unrelenting passion. I opened for him completely, lost in the rawness of the moment. I could taste him-his breath, his hunger-mixing with mine as his saliva spilled into my mouth, warm and intimate. The kiss was messy, desperate, and real-like two souls devouring each other.
"Ummmmm... you're so sweet... so sexy... so soft," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Main shabdon mein bayan nahi kar sakta, Nabila... tum swarg ho meri liye." He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes filled with wonder. My lips were still wet from our kiss, glistening in the soft light. He ran his thumb across them, smearing the lingering moisture with a touch that was both possessive and tender, as if he wanted to feel every trace of our passion etched into my skin.
“You’re amazing too, Ranjeet… I’m so lucky to have you,” I whispered, my fingers gently caressing the curve of his biceps. “So strong… so sure… you feel like everything I ever wanted in a man.”
"“Hmmmm... meri jaan... we fit so perfectly together,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as his hips moved in a slow, deep rhythm. “Nabila, mujhe tumse pehli nazar mein hi pyaar ho gaya tha... tum nahi jaanti kitna patience rakhna pada tumhein paane ke liye.”
His breath was hot against my ear as he continued, each word laced with emotion and heat. “Tumhara jism... it's perfect, meri jaan. Tumhare breasts... tumhara curve... tumhari softness... sab kuch. Har ek hissa tumhara... mujhe pagal kar deta hai.”
It felt strangely beautiful to be wanted this deeply. His hunger, his reverence-it awakened something in me I thought I had lost. After so long, I felt irresistible, alive in my own skin. Desired not just for how I looked, but for all that I was.
I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, drawing him even closer into me. My heels pressed against the small of his back as his rhythm deepened. I reached up, cupping the back of his head, and pulled him into a kiss-deep, slow, and filled with everything I couldn’t put into words. Our lips moved together in perfect sync, the heat between us rising again. I broke the kiss just enough to whisper breathlessly against his mouth,
"Ranjeet... tum kamaal ho..."
"Ohhh....darling....kamaal to ab dekhogi...." Saying that, he straightened his posture with a determined look in his eyes. His movements were smooth but purposeful, charged with anticipation and care.
He reached forward, his hands steady, and picked up the pillow beside us. With one fluid motion, he slid it under the curve of my lower back, lifting my hips slightly. The elevation made everything feel deeper, more intense.
Then, with a soft yet firm grip, he took hold of my thighs and gently pushed them up against my chest, opening me fully beneath him.
"Ummm... tumhari thighs kitni soft hain," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as his palms slid over the delicate skin, savoring the feel. Then, with slow control, he began to pull back-inch by inch-until only the swollen tip of his hardness remained inside me. The withdrawal sent a trembling ache through my core, leaving me gasping and clenching around the emptiness, aching for his return.
Then, without warning, he thrust back into me in one swift, powerful motion. The sudden stroke made my body jolt beneath him. It was fast-rougher than before-and the impact made me cry out, caught between surprise and raw pleasure. I could feel him hitting deep, the head of his length pressing firmly against my inner walls, stretching me completely. His thighs slapped against my bums, the heat of our skin colliding with force, and his thighs pressed tight against me. A loud, involuntary moan escaped from my throat-“Aaaaahhhhh…”-as my hands gripped the sheets, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.
The force of his thrust pushed me further up the bed. My breasts bounced from the impact, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of sensation through me. The bed gave a loud, protesting creak beneath us, adding to the raw, breathless rhythm of our bodies moving in perfect sync.
"Ranjeet... thoda dheere... please," I breathed out, my voice shaky and filled with overwhelmed pleasure. My fingers clutched at his arms, trying to ground myself as the intensity of his rhythm sent waves crashing through me faster than I could catch my breath.
Ranjeet’s relentless rhythm drove into me, each thrust a tidal wave crashing against my core, ignoring my trembling plea-“Ranjeet… thoda dheere… please.” His hands clamped onto my hips, his fingers bruising as he plunged deeper, the head of his length stretching me to my limits. The bed groaned under the force, my body jolting with every slap of his thighs against my bums, and my breasts bounced wildly, sending sparks of sensation through me. My nails raked the sheets, my voice breaking into a desperate moan-“Aaaaahhhhh…”-as the intensity overwhelmed me.
But beneath the storm of his urgency, something shifted inside me. The friction, the pressure, the sheer fullness of him ignited a fire that built faster than I could control. My walls clenched around him, a pulsing heat coiling tighter, and suddenly, it broke. My orgasm hit like a lightning strike, a white-hot wave that tore a raw cry from my throat. My body arched, shuddering uncontrollably as pleasure flooded every nerve, my thighs trembling against his. The world blurred, my breath hitching as I rode the crest, lost in the ecstasy of release.
Ranjeet didn’t slow, his thrusts unrelenting, driving through my aftershocks. My sensitivity heightened, each movement now a mix of lingering bliss and sharp overstimulation. I gasped, my hands pushing weakly at his chest, my voice a shaky whisper-“Ranjeet, please…”-but he was too far gone, his eyes dark with need, deaf to my words. His pace quickened, erratic, his groans deepening as he chased his own edge.
Then it came. Ranjeet’s body tensed, a guttural moan ripping from him as he thrust one final time, burying himself deep. I felt the sudden warmth of his release, a hot, pulsing flood that filled me, spilling against my inner walls. It was intense, almost overwhelming, the sensation of his come so distinct-thick, heavy, claiming. My body, still tingling from my own climax, quivered at the intimacy of it, the way it seemed to seep into me, marking the moment. His weight pressed against me, his breath ragged against my neck, and for a fleeting second, I felt a strange, primal connection, our bodies intertwined in the rawest way.
But as the haze cleared, my heart pounded with a tangle of emotions. The pleasure was undeniable, my orgasm still echoing in my limbs, but his refusal to hear me left a quiet ache. I lay beneath him, my chest heaving, staring at the ceiling as his warmth settled inside me. Part of me reveled in the closeness, the way his release felt like an extension of our passion. Yet another part felt unseen, my plea for gentleness ignored in his rush to the end. My fingers loosened on the sheets, and I exhaled shakily, caught between the afterglow and the weight of being unheard.