Adultery Pushpa Ki Rani: Srivalli Ka Junoon

[Joker44]

Dave Srivalli ko cruise ke ek ultra-private, luxurious chamber me le gaya. Room ka mahal bilkul royal tha—mahogany walls, golden lights, soft velvet carpets, ek big king-size bed aur ek side par glass wall se ocean ka view. Room me leather couches, expensive decanters, crystal glasses, aur subtle, sensual perfume ki khushboo thi. Sab kuch expensive, seductive, aur secretive lag raha tha.

Chamber ke andar already teen alag-alag men baithe the—ek tall, muscular Arab (dark suit, heavy watch, neatly groomed beard), ek broad-shouldered African (silky shirt, gold chain, strong intense eyes), aur ek stylish Chinese businessman (crisp suit, sharp jawline, aur cold, calculative smile). Teeno ne jaise hi Srivalli ko dekha, unki aankhon me wild excitement chamak uthi—jaise koi rare treat mil gaya ho.

Srivalli ne ek pal ke liye aankhen jhuka li, halki nervousness uski body language me thi, lekin Dave ne usko confidently apni lap par bithaya—apna haath uski bare waist pe rakha, possessive style me.

Room me ek minute ke liye sirf crystal glass ki clink aur men ki soft, dark smiles thi. Fir Arab ne pehli bold comment di,

“Very rare beauty. Worth the wait.”

African ne tease karte hue bola,

“Let’s see how wild Indian goddesses really are.”

Chinese ne slow, cold smile ke saath,

“This is going to be a memorable night.”

Dave ne whisky ka sip lete hue announce kiya,

“Gentlemen, sabko chance milega. Lekin pehle… highest bidder will go first. Bidding shuru karo—Srivalli ke liye!”

Teeno men ek pal ke liye Srivalli ko upar se niche tak scan karte hain, fir bidding bold, eager voices me start hoti hai—Hinglish aur English ka wild mix:

Arab:

“Fifty thousand dollars, I want her first!”

African (thoda laugh ke saath):

“Seventy-five thousand, bhai. Tonight, I’ll take her to Africa in one night!”

Chinese (cold, sharp):

“One lakh dollars. Let’s see if she’s worth every cent.”

Dave thoda smile ke saath, Srivalli ko tight hold karte hue, har bidder ko tease karta—

“Come on, boys, she’s special. Show me how much you want her!”

Bidding aur tez ho jaati hai, har man apni excitement, lust, aur pride dikhate hue, Srivalli ki taraf greedy, hungry gaze ke saath—

Room ab pure forbidden, dark fantasy ka stage ban chuka hai, jahan Srivalli ki nervousness, Dave ki possessiveness, aur men ki wild bidding sab mix ho chuki hai.

Arab ne jab final highest bid jeeti, to uski aankhon mein ek dark pride aur excitement thi. Dave ne Srivalli ki kamar se apna haath hata kar, slow smile ke saath uska haath Arab ko pakda diya. Srivalli ab poori tarah shock me thi—yeh sab itna openly, jaise vo ab kisi deal ki property ho. Uske face par confusion, aankhon mein fear, aur body thodi trembling thi, lekin sabke saamne majboor ho kar Arab ke saath chal gayi.

Arab ne uska haath firm grip me pakda aur usko confidently apni lap par bitha liya. Srivalli ab uski lap me thi, ek dum vulnerable, hair uske shoulders pe bikhar gaye the, deep neckline dress se cleavage thoda aur exposed ho gaya tha. Arab ne ek haath uski bare waist par rakha, aur dusre haath se dheere-dheere uske arm, neck aur thigh ko lightly stroke karne laga—jaise vo koi mehngi trophy ho.

Room me baaki dono—African aur Chinese—ab bhi laughter me, glass raise karte, teasing jokes bolte hue, Srivalli ko openly dekh rahe the.

African (smiling, teasing):

“Don’t break her, brother! Save some fun for us!”

Chinese (cold grin):

“She looks scared. That makes the game even better.”

Dave ne apni drink ka sip liya, aur thoda possessive but cold style me bola,

“Don’t worry, sabko apna time milega. Tonight, everyone gets a taste. Srivalli is all yours, Arab—abhi ke liye.”

Arab ab Srivalli ki body ke saath slowly play kar raha tha—ek haath se uski waist ko squeeze karta, kabhi uski bare thigh pe fingers glide karta, kabhi uske earlobe pe soft nibble. Srivalli ki breath shallow ho gayi, aankhen kabhi Dave, kabhi baaki men ki taraf, lekin vo puri helpless thi—uski dignity ab sabke beech ek auctioned prize ban chuki thi.

Room me wild laughter, glass ki clink, aur forbidden pleasure ki hawa gunj rahi thi—Srivalli ab ek dark, twisted game ka main prize thi, Arab ki lap me, aur har ek man ki hungry gaze us par fix thi.

Srivalli ki aankhen tightly band thi, lips par shaky breath aur mooh se nikalte hue muffled moans. Uski body Arab ki strong grip mein fasi thi, har touch, har squeeze, har bold move par uska andar ka guilt, dard aur majboori ek saath jhalak rahe the.

Uske mind mein ek hi sawal baar-baar ghoom raha tha—Main yahan kaise aa gayi? Main Pushpa ki patni hoon… par aaj sabke saamne, ek aukat mein bik rahi hoon, bas uske liye. Yeh sab seh rahi hoon sirf uski zindagi bachane ke liye.

Jab Arab ki fingers uski panty ke andar aur deep jati gayi, Srivalli ka body helplessly respond karne laga—usko samajh hi nahi aa raha tha ki uska pleasure, pain aur guilt ka mix itna intense kyun hai.

Yeh log mujhe sirf ek possession ki tarah dekh rahe hain… Dave, yeh Arab, baaki sab… kisi ko farq nahi padta ki main andar se kitni tooti hoon. Sabko sirf mera badan chahiye, meri majboori ka maza lena hai.

Ek pal ke liye usko Pushpa yaad aaya—unka pyaar, voh raaten jab vo sirf uski thi, sirf ek pati ki patni. Ab vo uski yaadon ko pakad kar rahi thi, lekin har nayi humiliation, har bold touch usko aur weak kar raha tha.

Bas ek hafta aur… phir Pushpa free ho jayega. Main sab kuch bhool jaungi… main sab kuch bhool hi paungi na? Ya yeh dard, yeh guilt… yeh nasha, yeh aawazen hamesha mere andar gunjti rahengi?

Jab party wale uski moans sun kar tease karte, Srivalli andar hi andar aur chhoti ho jati thi, lekin har second, har humiliating pleasure ke saath vo apne pati ko yaad karti,

Bas Pushpa… bas tere liye…

Uske andar ek broken prayer chal rahi thi—Bhagwan, meri izzat tujhpe chhod di… bas uski jaan bach jaaye.

Aur fir jab Arab ke touch ne uske andar se ek aur moan nikalva liya, Srivalli ne aankhen tightly band kar li, tears silent roll ho gayi, lekin lips se ab bhi broken surrender ki awaaz aati rahi.

Arab ki fingers Srivalli ki chut ke andar wild motion mein thi, har thrust pe uska body poori tarah tremble kar raha tha. Ek sharp, deep thrust ke saath Srivalli ne control lose kar diya—uski chut se ek dam se warm liquid nikal gaya, poori palm aur fingers wet ho gayi. Srivalli ke mooh se ek wild, broken moan nikal gaya,

“Ahhh… oh god…!”

Ye dekh kar poora room laughter aur teasing se goonj utha. Sab men ne openly enjoy kiya,

African:

“Waah, kya wild hai yeh! Yeh toh sabke bas ki baat nahi!”

Chinese:

“I want a taste too! Yeh Indian goddess aaj sab pe bhari hai!”

Arab ne Srivalli ke face ko turn kiya, uske lips par ek rough kiss diya—deep, forceful french kiss, tongue se uska mooh explore karta hua. Phir usne apni fingers, jo ab Srivalli ke cum se completely sticky thi, apne mooh me le jaakar slow, dramatic style me lick kiya—

“Mmm… tasty! Bilkul alag flavor hai.”

Baaki men ab aur bold ho gaye.

Dave (requesting):

“Come on, let the boys have a taste too. Sabko chance milna chahiye!”

Arab ne thoda possessive look diya,

“Aaj ki raat yeh meri hai, samjhe?”

Par crowd ke pressure aur teasing mein, Arab ne thoda chill ho ke bola,

“Fine, ek ek karke try kar lo. Lekin baad mein yeh sirf meri hai.”

Phir usne Srivalli ko unke beech throw kar diya—ab Srivalli puri tarah powerless thi, unke beech, poori dress ka upper part khisak gaya, boobs bilkul bahar aa gaye.

Pehle African ne usko grab kiya, lips par deep french kiss diya—tongue forcefully uske mouth me, dusre haath se boobs ko squeeze karte hue. Srivalli ke mooh se again soft, shaky moans nikal rahi thi, aankhen tears se bhari thi, lekin body ab surrender ho gayi thi.

Chinese ne next uske lips ko wild smooch kiya—long, messy kiss, tongue se lips suck karte hue, dusre haath se nipple pinch kiya. Fir usne head down le jaake Srivalli ke exposed boobs ko mouth me leke suck kiya—loud, wet sounds ke saath, teeth se gentle bite aur tongue se circles,

“Mmm… soft and sweet.”

Sab men ab turn by turn usko french kiss kar rahe the, lips, neck, aur bare boobs pe wild sucking, Srivalli ab completely crowd ki center ban chuki thi.

Finally, Arab ne usko phir se strong grip me liya, eyes me wild possessiveness,

“Ab sirf meri baari hai. Tum sab ho gaye, ab main le jaa raha hoon isse.”

Usne Srivalli ko apni taraf kheench ke, uski bare body ko arms me utha liya aur confidently apne private room ki taraf le gaya—Srivalli ab uske control mein, tears and helplessness ke beech, lekin body poori tarah surrender thi. Room me ab bhi sabki eyes uspar fix thi, lekin ab uski raat Arab ki thi—poora, raw possession ke saath.

Srivalli ke haath ab bhi thode tharthara rahe the, jab Arab ne uska haath pakad kar, sab logon ki beech se nikal kar apne private suite ki taraf le jaana shuru kiya. Corridor ke marble floor par uske high heels ki click, click ki awaaz goonj rahi thi—ek dum sharm, guilt, aur majboori ke beech. Baaki men ab bhi party mein busy the, lekin Srivalli ka dil sirf ek soch mein tha: "Bas ek raat… sab kuch Pushpa ke liye."

Suite ka darwaza khulta hai—golden handle, solid mahogany wood, andar ek dark, royal aura. Ek king-size bed, black satin sheets, warm yellow lights, ek shelf pe expensive liquor, aur dusre kone mein jacuzzi ka soft bubble. Glass wall ke baahar se cruise ka shimmering city view dikh raha tha.

Arab ne andar jaate hi apna coat bed pe daal diya, cuffs kholte hue relax mood mein aa gaya. Uski aankhon mein ab bhi vohi dark hunger tha. Srivalli ab dheere-dheere room ke andar aayi, har corner ko dekhti—mirror mein uska reflection, messy hair, red dress thodi slip ho chuki thi, lips bruised, eyes red—poora chehra ab guilt aur tiredness ka shadow tha.

Arab ne ek glass mein dark rum pour kiya, Srivalli ke paas aaya aur uska chin gently lift kiya, eyes mein possessive thrill.

Arab (soft, firm tone): “Welcome to my paradise, habibti. Tonight, you are mine. You know… I’ve had models, actresses, but tum mein jo asli flavor hai na, woh aur kahin nahi mila.”

Srivalli ne aankhen band ki, ek silent tear uski cheek pe roll ho gayi. Body mein ab resistance nahi, sirf surrender tha.

“Pushpa… main sab kuch tere liye seh rahi hoon. Bas ek raat. Bas ek raat…”

Arab ne uske hair ko side kiya, neck ke nape pe warm kiss diya—slow, claiming, thoda rough. Srivalli ke mooh se ek broken sigh nikla, lips thode shiver kar gaye.

Srivalli (to herself, almost whisper):

“Kar lo jo karna hai… bas mere Pushpa ko kuch na ho…”

Arab ne uske face ko kuch seconds softly dekha—shayad thoda regret, ya sirf power ka thrill. Usne finger se chin trace ki, aur phir gently, magar command ke saath, usse bed ki taraf le gaya.

Arab (almost whisper, dark smile):

“Don’t worry. Aaj ki raat sirf hamari hai. Tumhara Pushpa safe hai… at least for tonight.”

Srivalli slow steps mein, head jhukaye, bed par baith gayi—body ab completely surrender ho gayi thi. Room mein sirf jacuzzi ka bubble, city lights ka reflection, aur curtain ki shadow thi.

Camera cruise ke glass wall ke baahar zoom out karta hai. Andar, curtains dheere-dheere band ho jaate hain—aur us raat ki darkness mein, Srivalli apni taqdeer ko chhup kar, ek aur sacrifice complete kar rahi thi..