Chapter 3: Office Gossip
The monitoring room was a stark contrast to the fiery pits of the blast furnace units it oversaw. The cold, sterile lights reflected off the steel surfaces, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the five individuals huddled around the main console. It was a winter night shift, and the chill of the industrial complex seeped into their very bones, making the warmth of their bodies seem almost taboo. Yet, Mr. Singh, the senior engineer, had something else in mind to heat things up.
He leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning under his substantial weight, and with a smirk that could cut through the thick tension, pulled out his latest mobile from his pocket. "Gentlemen," he announced, his voice a low rumble, "I've got something that'll blow your circuits."
The four junior colleagues, Rishab, Vikram, Aakash, and Jatin, exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. They were used to Mr. Singh's unorthodox methods of relieving stress during the graveyard shifts, but this was new territory even for him. The room grew quiet as they leaned in closer, the hum of the machinery outside the only other sound.
Mr. Singh tapped the screen of his phone a few times before passing it to Rishab, the youngest of the group. His eyes widened as he saw the video thumbnails, each one more explicit than the last. "You've got to be kidding me," he murmured, his heart racing.
"Go on," Mr. Singh urged, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, "Take a look. But remember, what happens in the office, stays in the office."
Rishab's trembling fingers swiped through the collection of videos, finally selecting a random one. He hit play, and the room fell silent as the screen lit up with the unmistakable sounds of passion—low moans, the rhythmic slap of skin, and the occasional creak of furniture. The camera angle was discreet but deliberate, focused on a woman’s body as it moved with raw, unbridled desire. Her heavy boobs swayed with each thrust, her nipples taut and glistening under the soft light of the room. Her hips arched upward, meeting the man’s movements with a desperation that spoke of insatiable hunger.
"What the fuck," Rishab murmured, passing the phone to Vikram, who took it with a look of astonishment.
Vikram's eyes devoured the screen, his pupils dilating as he watched Mr. Singh's thick, meaty cock plunge into the mystery woman's welcoming folds.The woman’s face was strategically hidden by the angle of the camera, leaving her identity a tantalizing mystery. But everything else was on full display, each curve and contour highlighted in vivid detail. Her thighs were parted wide, her shaven pussy glistening with arousal as Mr. Singh plowed into her with a force that made the men in the office shift uncomfortably in their seats. Her hands gripped the edges of the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric as if anchoring herself to reality amidst the ecstasy. "Singh Sir. Who is this wild bitch?"
"Ah, that's the million dollar mystery I can't reveal," Mr. Singh chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "But I'll tell you this much, she's got more fire in her than all your wives combined."
Vikram took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he passed the phone to Aakash. The video played on, showcasing Mr. Singh's prowess as he pounded into the woman's chubby pussy with the enthusiasm of a man half his age. Her moans grew louder, her body writhing in pleasure, and it was clear that she was loving every moment of it. The video's quality was surprisingly high, capturing every bead of sweat that glistened on Mr. Singh's broad back, every quiver of the woman's voluminous flesh.
Aakash's eyes bulged as he watched, his mind racing with thoughts of his own unsatisfying encounters at home. His wife, while beautiful, couldn't match the passion and raw sexuality that the mystery woman on the screen exuded. "Fuck! She's got some serious meat on her," he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the bouncing flesh. "And those tits... they're like fucking melons! She's a bengali sex bomb." Mr. Singh gazed at him with curiosity as if he was started with his deduction skills. Aakash immediately replied, "That's clear from the shakha-pola she's wearing. I am a pervert but not a complete idiot." And everyone chuckled with him.
Jatin was next to receive the phone, his palms sweaty with anticipation. He quickly scrolled through the videos, his heart racing as he searched for the perfect scene. Finally, his eyes landed on one that was nothing but a close-up of the woman's chubby pussy, Mr. Singh's cock sliding in and out in a mesmerizing rhythm. The camera was positioned just right so that her generous breasts filled the top of the screen, their light areolas standing out like beacons of temptation. He hit play and the room was filled with the sound of wet, unbridled passion.
"Damn, that's... intense," Jatin breathed, his voice cracking as he took in the explicit scene. The woman's pussy was a vision of beauty, stretched and glistening with desire around Mr. Singh's thick member. Her flesh jiggled and bounced with each thrust, and her moans grew more fervent as the video progressed.
The phone was passed back to Mr. Singh, who pocketed it with a satisfied grin. "So, gentlemen," he began, leaning back in his chair with a sense of authority, "now that we've established that I've got the moves, let's talk shop. What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done with your wives?"
The room went silent for a moment, the only sound the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, each man contemplating their own marital escapades. Rishab spoke up first, his cheeks flushing. "Well, I tried to get my wife to do a sixty-nine once, but she said she'd get a neck cramp."
Mr. Singh chuckled, his belly jiggling. "A classic. But let's not be shy here, boys. We're all adults, and we all know that married sex can get as stale as last week's naan."
Vikram leaned in, his eyes alight with a mischievous spark. "Okay, I've got one," he began, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Once, I convinced my wife to let me fuck her in the shower. But instead of the usual soap and water, I used...whipped cream."
The room erupted with laughter, the tension momentarily broken. Mr. Singh clapped him on the back, his grin growing wider. "Now we're talking," he said, his voice thick with approval. "But tell me, if you had the chance with this mystery woman, what would you do to her?"
The question hung in the air, a challenge that none of the men could ignore. Rishab's eyes darkened with lust as he considered it. "I'd...I'd lick those melons like they were my last meal," he finally said, his voice hoarse.
"And what about you, Aakash?" Mr. Singh's gaze was intense, daring him to be as explicit as his thoughts.
Aakash swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of the mystery woman's voluptuous body. "I'd...I'd cover her in chocolate sauce," he stuttered, his face reddening with embarrassment. "And lick it off, bit by delicious bit."
Jatin, the most reserved of the group, spoke up next. "I'd love to...see those big tits bouncing while she's riding me," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Her pussy...it's so...so...inviting."
Mr. Singh nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And you, Vikram?"
Vikram took a deep breath, his eyes glazed over with a look of intense contemplation. "I'd...I'd want to see her in a pair of those high-heeled sandals," he began, his voice a low purr. "The pencil heels which makes the ass jiggle more with each step."
The room fell silent as the image took root in everyone's minds. The mystery woman, her voluptuous figure accentuated by the high heels, strutting towards them, her chubby pussy quivering with every step.
Vikram's voice grew more assertive as he continued, "And then, I'd want her to wear those heels while I take her from behind. Standing. Feeling her warm, wet cunt squeeze around my cock while she's teetering on those heels...it'd be like fucking a goddess of lust."
Mr. Singh's smile grew, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" he exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "But what's the kinkiest part, my friend?"
Vikram took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't shared this particular fantasy with anyone before, not even in the confines of his own mind. But the atmosphere in the room, the heat of the unspoken desires, the raw lust that hung in the air like a thick fog, it all compelled him to go further. "I'd want to tie her hands behind her back," he began, his voice taking on a life of its own, "so she couldn't touch herself. And as she stands there, her body on full display, her tits bouncing in those sandals, I'd tease her with a feather."
The room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of five grown men, each lost in their own fantasies. The air was thick with the scent of desire, a palpable force that seemed to pulse with every beat of their hearts.
"And what about you, Jatin?" Mr. Singh prompted, breaking the spell. "You've been awfully quiet over there."
Jatin took a moment to compose himself before speaking, his voice a low growl of anticipation. "I'd...I'd get her one of those app-controlled vibrators," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "You know, the kind that can be synced to your phone?"
Mr. Singh's eyes lit up, the wheels turning in his head. "Ah, I see where you're going with this," he murmured, his smile turning wicked. "Do tell, Jatin."
Jatin leaned in, his voice a seductive whisper. "Picture this," he began, his eyes glazed over with a mix of excitement and naughtiness. "We're out in the mall, right? She's got this little black dress on, the kind that clings to her curves like a second skin. And underneath, she's got those vibrators buzzing away, one nestled deep in her cunt, the other teasing her nipples."
The other men leaned in closer, their eyes sparkling with the same mischievous glee that had taken hold of Jatin. "And here's the kicker," he continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "The vibrators are synced to my phone, so every time she thinks she can't take it anymore, I just crank it up a notch. She'd have to walk around, trying to keep a straight face while her body betrays her. She'd be cumming in the middle of a crowded department store, and no one would even know."
Mr. Singh chuckled darkly, a twinkle in his eye. "That's a classic," he said, nodding in approval. "The thrill of exhibitionism without the risk of getting caught."
"But what about you, Mr. Singh?" Rishab asked, unable to resist the urge to pry further into the man's seemingly unbridled sex life.
Mr. Singh leaned back in his chair, stroking his thick mustache thoughtfully. "Ah, my dear boy," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You want to know what I'd do with our mystery woman? Well, let me tell you, I've got enough ideas to keep us all warm through the winter."
He took a dramatic pause, the anticipation in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. "But as your leader, I can't just give away all my secrets, can I?" He winked at the group, his chuckle deep and resonant. "Besides, I think it's about time we got back to the task at hand. And don't jerk off at the office washroom please."
The junior colleagues couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment dissipating like steam from a kettle. They knew Mr. Singh had a wicked sense of humor and an even more adventurous taste in bedroom antics. They'd heard the rumors, of course, but never had they imagined they'd be privy to such explicit details.
The monitoring room was a stark contrast to the fiery pits of the blast furnace units it oversaw. The cold, sterile lights reflected off the steel surfaces, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the five individuals huddled around the main console. It was a winter night shift, and the chill of the industrial complex seeped into their very bones, making the warmth of their bodies seem almost taboo. Yet, Mr. Singh, the senior engineer, had something else in mind to heat things up.
He leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning under his substantial weight, and with a smirk that could cut through the thick tension, pulled out his latest mobile from his pocket. "Gentlemen," he announced, his voice a low rumble, "I've got something that'll blow your circuits."
The four junior colleagues, Rishab, Vikram, Aakash, and Jatin, exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. They were used to Mr. Singh's unorthodox methods of relieving stress during the graveyard shifts, but this was new territory even for him. The room grew quiet as they leaned in closer, the hum of the machinery outside the only other sound.
Mr. Singh tapped the screen of his phone a few times before passing it to Rishab, the youngest of the group. His eyes widened as he saw the video thumbnails, each one more explicit than the last. "You've got to be kidding me," he murmured, his heart racing.
"Go on," Mr. Singh urged, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, "Take a look. But remember, what happens in the office, stays in the office."
Rishab's trembling fingers swiped through the collection of videos, finally selecting a random one. He hit play, and the room fell silent as the screen lit up with the unmistakable sounds of passion—low moans, the rhythmic slap of skin, and the occasional creak of furniture. The camera angle was discreet but deliberate, focused on a woman’s body as it moved with raw, unbridled desire. Her heavy boobs swayed with each thrust, her nipples taut and glistening under the soft light of the room. Her hips arched upward, meeting the man’s movements with a desperation that spoke of insatiable hunger.
"What the fuck," Rishab murmured, passing the phone to Vikram, who took it with a look of astonishment.
Vikram's eyes devoured the screen, his pupils dilating as he watched Mr. Singh's thick, meaty cock plunge into the mystery woman's welcoming folds.The woman’s face was strategically hidden by the angle of the camera, leaving her identity a tantalizing mystery. But everything else was on full display, each curve and contour highlighted in vivid detail. Her thighs were parted wide, her shaven pussy glistening with arousal as Mr. Singh plowed into her with a force that made the men in the office shift uncomfortably in their seats. Her hands gripped the edges of the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric as if anchoring herself to reality amidst the ecstasy. "Singh Sir. Who is this wild bitch?"
"Ah, that's the million dollar mystery I can't reveal," Mr. Singh chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "But I'll tell you this much, she's got more fire in her than all your wives combined."
Vikram took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he passed the phone to Aakash. The video played on, showcasing Mr. Singh's prowess as he pounded into the woman's chubby pussy with the enthusiasm of a man half his age. Her moans grew louder, her body writhing in pleasure, and it was clear that she was loving every moment of it. The video's quality was surprisingly high, capturing every bead of sweat that glistened on Mr. Singh's broad back, every quiver of the woman's voluminous flesh.
Aakash's eyes bulged as he watched, his mind racing with thoughts of his own unsatisfying encounters at home. His wife, while beautiful, couldn't match the passion and raw sexuality that the mystery woman on the screen exuded. "Fuck! She's got some serious meat on her," he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the bouncing flesh. "And those tits... they're like fucking melons! She's a bengali sex bomb." Mr. Singh gazed at him with curiosity as if he was started with his deduction skills. Aakash immediately replied, "That's clear from the shakha-pola she's wearing. I am a pervert but not a complete idiot." And everyone chuckled with him.
Jatin was next to receive the phone, his palms sweaty with anticipation. He quickly scrolled through the videos, his heart racing as he searched for the perfect scene. Finally, his eyes landed on one that was nothing but a close-up of the woman's chubby pussy, Mr. Singh's cock sliding in and out in a mesmerizing rhythm. The camera was positioned just right so that her generous breasts filled the top of the screen, their light areolas standing out like beacons of temptation. He hit play and the room was filled with the sound of wet, unbridled passion.
"Damn, that's... intense," Jatin breathed, his voice cracking as he took in the explicit scene. The woman's pussy was a vision of beauty, stretched and glistening with desire around Mr. Singh's thick member. Her flesh jiggled and bounced with each thrust, and her moans grew more fervent as the video progressed.
The phone was passed back to Mr. Singh, who pocketed it with a satisfied grin. "So, gentlemen," he began, leaning back in his chair with a sense of authority, "now that we've established that I've got the moves, let's talk shop. What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done with your wives?"
The room went silent for a moment, the only sound the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, each man contemplating their own marital escapades. Rishab spoke up first, his cheeks flushing. "Well, I tried to get my wife to do a sixty-nine once, but she said she'd get a neck cramp."
Mr. Singh chuckled, his belly jiggling. "A classic. But let's not be shy here, boys. We're all adults, and we all know that married sex can get as stale as last week's naan."
Vikram leaned in, his eyes alight with a mischievous spark. "Okay, I've got one," he began, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Once, I convinced my wife to let me fuck her in the shower. But instead of the usual soap and water, I used...whipped cream."
The room erupted with laughter, the tension momentarily broken. Mr. Singh clapped him on the back, his grin growing wider. "Now we're talking," he said, his voice thick with approval. "But tell me, if you had the chance with this mystery woman, what would you do to her?"
The question hung in the air, a challenge that none of the men could ignore. Rishab's eyes darkened with lust as he considered it. "I'd...I'd lick those melons like they were my last meal," he finally said, his voice hoarse.
"And what about you, Aakash?" Mr. Singh's gaze was intense, daring him to be as explicit as his thoughts.
Aakash swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of the mystery woman's voluptuous body. "I'd...I'd cover her in chocolate sauce," he stuttered, his face reddening with embarrassment. "And lick it off, bit by delicious bit."
Jatin, the most reserved of the group, spoke up next. "I'd love to...see those big tits bouncing while she's riding me," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Her pussy...it's so...so...inviting."
Mr. Singh nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And you, Vikram?"
Vikram took a deep breath, his eyes glazed over with a look of intense contemplation. "I'd...I'd want to see her in a pair of those high-heeled sandals," he began, his voice a low purr. "The pencil heels which makes the ass jiggle more with each step."
The room fell silent as the image took root in everyone's minds. The mystery woman, her voluptuous figure accentuated by the high heels, strutting towards them, her chubby pussy quivering with every step.
Vikram's voice grew more assertive as he continued, "And then, I'd want her to wear those heels while I take her from behind. Standing. Feeling her warm, wet cunt squeeze around my cock while she's teetering on those heels...it'd be like fucking a goddess of lust."
Mr. Singh's smile grew, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" he exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "But what's the kinkiest part, my friend?"
Vikram took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't shared this particular fantasy with anyone before, not even in the confines of his own mind. But the atmosphere in the room, the heat of the unspoken desires, the raw lust that hung in the air like a thick fog, it all compelled him to go further. "I'd want to tie her hands behind her back," he began, his voice taking on a life of its own, "so she couldn't touch herself. And as she stands there, her body on full display, her tits bouncing in those sandals, I'd tease her with a feather."
The room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of five grown men, each lost in their own fantasies. The air was thick with the scent of desire, a palpable force that seemed to pulse with every beat of their hearts.
"And what about you, Jatin?" Mr. Singh prompted, breaking the spell. "You've been awfully quiet over there."
Jatin took a moment to compose himself before speaking, his voice a low growl of anticipation. "I'd...I'd get her one of those app-controlled vibrators," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "You know, the kind that can be synced to your phone?"
Mr. Singh's eyes lit up, the wheels turning in his head. "Ah, I see where you're going with this," he murmured, his smile turning wicked. "Do tell, Jatin."
Jatin leaned in, his voice a seductive whisper. "Picture this," he began, his eyes glazed over with a mix of excitement and naughtiness. "We're out in the mall, right? She's got this little black dress on, the kind that clings to her curves like a second skin. And underneath, she's got those vibrators buzzing away, one nestled deep in her cunt, the other teasing her nipples."
The other men leaned in closer, their eyes sparkling with the same mischievous glee that had taken hold of Jatin. "And here's the kicker," he continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "The vibrators are synced to my phone, so every time she thinks she can't take it anymore, I just crank it up a notch. She'd have to walk around, trying to keep a straight face while her body betrays her. She'd be cumming in the middle of a crowded department store, and no one would even know."
Mr. Singh chuckled darkly, a twinkle in his eye. "That's a classic," he said, nodding in approval. "The thrill of exhibitionism without the risk of getting caught."
"But what about you, Mr. Singh?" Rishab asked, unable to resist the urge to pry further into the man's seemingly unbridled sex life.
Mr. Singh leaned back in his chair, stroking his thick mustache thoughtfully. "Ah, my dear boy," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You want to know what I'd do with our mystery woman? Well, let me tell you, I've got enough ideas to keep us all warm through the winter."
He took a dramatic pause, the anticipation in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. "But as your leader, I can't just give away all my secrets, can I?" He winked at the group, his chuckle deep and resonant. "Besides, I think it's about time we got back to the task at hand. And don't jerk off at the office washroom please."
The junior colleagues couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment dissipating like steam from a kettle. They knew Mr. Singh had a wicked sense of humor and an even more adventurous taste in bedroom antics. They'd heard the rumors, of course, but never had they imagined they'd be privy to such explicit details.
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