18-08-2025, 10:07 PM
Part 9
The morning sun pierced through the grimy curtains of my small flat, dragging me out of a restless sleep. My head throbbed, not from drink but from a storm of guilt that churned inside me like a monsoon flood. Mina’s face haunted me—her soft, trembling body under my touch, her low, tear-soaked moans echoing in my ears, the weight of her life’s struggles pressing against my conscience. Kalu had dangled her in front of me like a prize, and I’d taken her, fucking her with a hunger that now left a bitter taste. My chest tightened with unease, as if I’d crossed a line into a darkness I couldn’t escape. Yet, even as guilt clawed at me, my body betrayed me. My cock stirred, hardening at the vivid memory of Mina’s curves—the lush, soft folds of her heavy breasts, the rhythmic sway of her thick ass, the tight, wet grip of her pussy clamping around me. Her sweat-slicked skin, the scars on her belly glistening under that dim bulb, her trembling thighs—it was all burned into me, raw and unrelenting. I lay there, my breath uneven, my cock pulsing against my lungi, demanding attention. Why should I feel sorry for her? She was Kalu’s wife, her life bound to his choices. I’d only done what he’d pushed me to do. If he offered her up to another man, what was my sin? Her pain, her shame—they weren’t my burden. She wasn’t mine. In this lonely, fucked-up life, I had no one. I was alone, always had been, and I’d stay that way forever. The thought hit like a punch, a mix of rage, emptiness, and a strange, twisted freedom. My body burned with lust, but my mind was a hollow void, aching for something I couldn’t name. I dragged myself out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and threw on my office clothes, desperate to drown it all in the monotony of work.
The office was a blur of papers, phone calls, and my boss’s grating voice barking orders. But my mind kept slipping back to the slum—Mina’s soft, yielding body, her moans mixing with Kalu’s crude laughter, Rita’s wicked, knowing smile as she teased me with her cock. A restless itch grew inside me, like I’d lost something vital but craved more of the depravity I’d tasted. It was as if I was chasing a high I could never quite catch. By evening, I left the office drained, the city’s humid air clinging to my skin as I walked through the darkening streets. In a narrow alley, my eyes caught a gleam of chrome—a sleek, expensive car idling under a flickering streetlight. The door swung open, and there was Rita, the trans sex worker, her sari slipping to reveal the smooth curve of her bare breasts, her nipples dark and hard against the thin fabric. She adjusted the cloth with a slow, deliberate motion, her lips curling into a sultry grin, her eyes sparkling with a mischief that promised every forbidden pleasure. She climbed into the car, her hips swaying, her confidence radiating like heat. I stood frozen, my heart pounding. What a life, I thought. Riding in rich men’s cars, getting fucked for cash, owning her desires without shame. A stab of envy hit me, sharp and bitter, but my cock throbbed, straining against my pants. I’m just a lonely bastard, I thought. Maybe I should go to her, see what happens. My feet moved forward, drawn to the alley’s pull, but doubt crashed in. Fuck this. I don’t need her. I’ll go home, jerk off to porn, and handle my own shit. I turned away, my steps quickening as I fled to the safety of my flat.
Stepping inside, I locked the door, and a wave of relief washed over me. No chaos, no people, just me and the silence of my own space. My sanctuary. I kicked off my shoes, stripped down to my lungi, and opened my laptop, the screen’s glow casting shadows across the room. I pulled up Eporner, my fingers trembling as I clicked on “Chloe Cherry - Gang Bang Creampie 328.” The video loaded, and there she was—Chloe, young and radiant, her pale, soft body a vision of raw desire. Her small, perky tits jiggled slightly, her tight ass quivering as she moved. My cock stiffened instantly, pulsing with need. Her smooth skin, every curve and dip, held my gaze like a magnet. A group of men surrounded her, their massive cocks hard and gleaming, thrusting toward her open mouth. Chloe’s lips wrapped around one, her tongue swirling over the swollen tip, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. They fucked her face with brutal intensity, shoving their cocks down her throat as she gagged, saliva dripping in long, glistening strands, her eyes watering but glinting with a hungry, shameless smile. One grabbed her blonde hair, ramming his cock deeper, her muffled moans—“Mmm… mmm…”—vibrating through the speakers. Another positioned behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded her ass, her cheeks bouncing with each thrust, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. They took turns, relentless, fucking her pussy and ass, their cocks plunging deep, unloading inside her one after another. Cum oozed from her pussy, thick and white, dripping down her thighs, splattering across her face, her ass, her body glistening with their release. Her moans grew louder, a mix of pain and ecstasy, her body trembling under the onslaught. I tore off my lungi, grabbed a bottle of coconut oil, and slicked my cock, the slippery warmth making me shudder. My hand moved fast, stroking my swollen shaft, precum leaking as I watched Chloe’s pussy stretch, her ass quiver, her face coated in cum. The pleasure built, a storm raging in my body, my balls tightening until I erupted, my cum splattering across my hand, my stomach, the bedsheet, leaving me panting, my heart racing.
My phone buzzed, shattering the moment. I was too lost in Chloe’s bouncing ass, the sight of cocks sliding in and out, her moans ringing in my ears like a siren’s call. I ignored it, my hand still stroking, chasing the fading edge of my climax. It rang again, and rage flared. Who the fuck is calling now? My body shook, my cock still hard, my mind screaming to crawl through the phone and fuck whoever dared interrupt me. I switched it off, tossing it onto the bed, and tried to dive back into the video, but it had ended. My cock softened, the fire fading. Fuck this shit. I opened xossipy, scrolling until I found a story about a woman getting double-penetrated, her slick pussy stretched by two cocks, her moans vivid in my mind. The words painted a scene—her body trembling, her juices dripping, the men’s cocks grinding inside her, her screams of pleasure. My cock hardened again, and I switched to a YourPriya video, her slightly thick ass taking a cock deep, her moans raw and desperate. The sight of her ass jiggling, the sound of her cries, reignited the fire in me. I slicked my cock with more oil, my hand moving furiously, the slippery glide driving me wild. My cum erupted again, hot and thick, coating my hand, my stomach, dripping onto the bed. I collapsed, exhausted, my body sated but my mind still hollow, the phone forgotten. A strange calm settled over me, but the emptiness lingered. I closed my eyes, drifting into sleep, one thought echoing: I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way.
The next day, work buried the missed call in the back of my mind. Papers, meetings, the hum of the office drowned out the noise in my head, but the restlessness lingered, a low hum beneath the surface. On the bus ride home, the crowd pressed tight, bodies jostling in the humid, suffocating air. The bus’s sway, the heat, the sweat-soaked skin of strangers brushing against me—it all stirred a primal, hungry lust. My eyes roamed, restless, until they landed on a girl in a tight red college dress, the fabric clinging to her curves, her buttons straining over her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples pressed against the cloth, hard and teasing. Beside her, a guy in a matching red shirt, their bodies pressed close, their intimacy obvious. They were together, heading somewhere, their closeness electric. He brushed against her, his hand grazing her waist, and she turned, giving him a shy, sultry smile that screamed invitation. My cock twitched, straining against my pants. Suddenly, he moved behind her, his hand sliding under her arm to cup her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple through the fabric. Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal, her lips parting slightly as she leaned into him. I stared, my cock throbbing, the heat of the bus amplifying my hunger. No one else seemed to notice, their eyes averted, as if this was just another moment in the city’s chaos. Mustafa’s words rang in my head: “The city’s full of fun—don’t miss a single chance.” My cock strained harder, begging to break free, my body buzzing with a savage need.
I summoned my courage, pushing through the crowd until I stood in front of her. My chest pressed against her soft, heavy breasts, her nipples grazing my shirt, sending electric sparks through my skin. Her warmth, the faint sweaty scent of her body, hit me like a drug, my cock pulsing with need. She looked up, her eyes wide with unease but flickering with curiosity. I pressed my bulging cock against her stomach, the hard ridge making her body quiver, her breath catching. Pleasure surged through me, my cock rubbing her navel through her dress, the friction driving me wild. She glanced at the guy, her eyes pleading, but he glared at me, his mouth opening to protest. I leaned in, my voice low and sharp. “I saw everything. I’ve got it on video. Let me join, or I’ll make a scene and find your families.” His face drained of color, his eyes wide with fear and defeat. He stepped back, silent, his hands trembling.
The girl looked at me, her eyes a storm of fear, shame, and something else—desire, maybe, buried deep. I cupped her cheek, my fingers rough against her soft skin, and leaned in, kissing her deeply. Her lips were warm, sweet, parting under mine as my tongue slipped inside, grazing her teeth, tasting her. Her faint perfume, mixed with the musky scent of her sweat, flooded my senses, my cock hardening further. She moaned softly, her sounds vibrating against my mouth, her body pressing closer. I grabbed the guy’s hand, guiding it back to her breast. “Keep squeezing,” I whispered. “No problem.” Hesitant, he complied, his fingers massaging her breast, teasing her nipple until it stiffened under his touch. I slid my hand down, rubbing her pussy through her dress, feeling her wetness soak through the fabric, her slick lips parting under my fingers. Her body trembled, her thighs clenching, her breath uneven. Emboldened, I slipped my hand under her dress, my fingers brushing her panties, her warm, wet heat making my cock throb. I stroked her pussy, my fingers gliding over her slick lips, her juices coating me.
I reached back, grabbing the guy’s cock through his pants, surprised by its soft, limp weight. He stared, shocked, his eyes wide. “What’s this?” I whispered, smirking. “A soft dick like this? How’ll you fuck her with that?” He stammered, “We don’t get chances like this. Just messing around on the bus.” The girl shot him a furious look, her face tight with frustration. I grinned. “No worries. I live alone. Come to my place, fuck as much as you want—but I’m joining in.” He nodded quickly, desperate. “Sounds good. You won’t hurt us, right?” “Why would I?” I said, my voice smooth. “I just want to have fun and make sure you do too.” The girl snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “What are you doing? Taking me to a stranger’s house to get fucked by both of you? We’re done!” The guy pleaded, “Sorry, I fucked up.” I laughed, low and confident. “Just have fun with me. I’ll make you forget your anger.”
We worked her together in the crowded bus, our hands relentless. I squeezed her soft, heavy breasts, their weight filling my palms, her nipples hard as I pinched them, rolling them between my fingers. She moaned, her body grinding against mine, her warmth seeping into me. The guy joined in, his fingers teasing her nipples through her dress, his touch hesitant but growing bolder. I slid my hand under her panties, stroking her slick pussy lips, her juices dripping, coating my fingers. I spread her lips, slipping a finger inside, her tight walls gripping me, pulsing with heat. She shuddered, her body leaning into mine, her breath ragged. I unzipped my pants, freeing my rock-hard cock, and pressed it against her pussy, the tip rubbing her wet lips through her panties, the friction electric. I pushed, but her pussy was so tight, only the head slipped in, her walls squeezing me, pleasure crashing through me like a tidal wave. The guy covered her mouth, muffling her moans as they grew louder, her body trembling between us. I thrust harder, my cock inching deeper, her tightness driving me to the edge.
The guy unzipped his pants, his soft cock brushing against mine as he pressed behind her. I grabbed it, stroking until it hardened, its warmth pulsing in my hand. I guided it to her asshole, pressing the tip against her tight hole. He thrust, his cock barely entering as she moaned, her body shaking, caught between us. I knelt, taking his cock in my mouth, its warm, salty taste filling me as I sucked hard, my lips gliding over the tip, my tongue swirling. Then I buried my face in her pussy, my tongue lapping her slick lips, her tangy juices flooding my mouth, her scent intoxicating. She moaned louder, her thighs clamping around my head, her body trembling. I guided his cock into her pussy, his thin shaft sliding halfway in, stretching her. She tried to scream, but I stood, pressing my mouth to hers, her moans melting into me, her lips soft and desperate. He fucked her, his cock slipping deeper, until his cum erupted, hot and slick, dripping from her pussy, coating her thighs. I scooped some, tasting its salty tang, the rawness sending a jolt through me. I smeared the rest on my cock, slicking it before thrusting back into her pussy. The cum’s slipperiness let me sink halfway in, her tight walls gripping me, pleasure surging like wildfire. I fucked her hard, her pussy rubbing my cock, the wet heat overwhelming. My cum exploded, hot and thick, mixing with hers, dripping down her thighs, pooling on the bus floor.
I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear. “Tell me, how was it?” She blushed, her voice barely a whisper. “Honestly, it was incredible. I never imagined this much pleasure in a crowded bus.” I grinned, my cock still twitching. “Come to my place sometime. The three of us will have even more fun.” She hesitated, her eyes flickering. “Maybe, but not today.” The guy looked at her, mumbling, “Sorry, I fucked up.” To me, he said, “Thanks for the fun.” I gave them my number, my fingers lingering on her hand. The bus hadn’t reached our stop. We held her close, my hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, slipping into her panties to stroke her dripping pussy. The guy rubbed her ass, his fingers teasing her tight hole, her body trembling between us, her moans soft but constant. When my stop came, I kissed her deeply, my tongue tasting her one last time, my fingers rubbing her pussy before I stepped off, the cool night air hitting my flushed skin.
Back home, I checked my phone—multiple missed calls from the same number. I called back, and Kakima’s voice answered, trembling, soaked in tears. “Akash, your uncle’s very sick. We’re helpless. He wants to see you. Please come to Halishahar soon.” My heart stopped. Why now, after all these years? Memories flooded back—childhood days at their house, Kakima’s sharp tongue cutting me down, playing hide-and-seek with Rima, her shy giggles echoing, my uncle’s quiet, distant presence. They’d all but erased me from their lives, and now, with his illness, they needed me. Anger mixed with duty, and I decided to go.
I planned to leave that night, but news came of riots on the roads—no travel for two days. I called Kakima, but Rima answered, her voice soft and warm, like a memory from a better time. “Akash da, how are you? When are you coming? Baba’s really sick.” My chest tightened at her tone, so familiar yet distant. “Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s trouble on the roads. I’ll leave the day after tomorrow.” I wanted to ask how she was, to hear more of her voice, but she hung up with a soft click, leaving me in silence. A strange warmth stirred—Rima’s voice, unchanged after all these years, clashing with Kakima’s sobs, my uncle’s illness, and the hollow ache in my chest. I returned to my flat, locking the door behind me.
My mind was a battlefield—Mina’s soft, yielding body, Rita’s sultry cock, the bus girl’s tight, dripping pussy—all fading as Rima’s voice and Kakima’s tears took over. I lay on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, one question burning: What’s waiting for me in Halishahar? My body still buzzed with the raw thrill of the bus, my cock twitching at the memory of her tight pussy, but my mind churned with Rima’s warmth, Kakima’s despair, and the emptiness that never left me. I closed my eyes, but sleep refused to come. The restlessness grew, my body alive with unspent desire, my mind heavy with questions. I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way. But what happens when I reach Halishahar?
The morning sun pierced through the grimy curtains of my small flat, dragging me out of a restless sleep. My head throbbed, not from drink but from a storm of guilt that churned inside me like a monsoon flood. Mina’s face haunted me—her soft, trembling body under my touch, her low, tear-soaked moans echoing in my ears, the weight of her life’s struggles pressing against my conscience. Kalu had dangled her in front of me like a prize, and I’d taken her, fucking her with a hunger that now left a bitter taste. My chest tightened with unease, as if I’d crossed a line into a darkness I couldn’t escape. Yet, even as guilt clawed at me, my body betrayed me. My cock stirred, hardening at the vivid memory of Mina’s curves—the lush, soft folds of her heavy breasts, the rhythmic sway of her thick ass, the tight, wet grip of her pussy clamping around me. Her sweat-slicked skin, the scars on her belly glistening under that dim bulb, her trembling thighs—it was all burned into me, raw and unrelenting. I lay there, my breath uneven, my cock pulsing against my lungi, demanding attention. Why should I feel sorry for her? She was Kalu’s wife, her life bound to his choices. I’d only done what he’d pushed me to do. If he offered her up to another man, what was my sin? Her pain, her shame—they weren’t my burden. She wasn’t mine. In this lonely, fucked-up life, I had no one. I was alone, always had been, and I’d stay that way forever. The thought hit like a punch, a mix of rage, emptiness, and a strange, twisted freedom. My body burned with lust, but my mind was a hollow void, aching for something I couldn’t name. I dragged myself out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and threw on my office clothes, desperate to drown it all in the monotony of work.
The office was a blur of papers, phone calls, and my boss’s grating voice barking orders. But my mind kept slipping back to the slum—Mina’s soft, yielding body, her moans mixing with Kalu’s crude laughter, Rita’s wicked, knowing smile as she teased me with her cock. A restless itch grew inside me, like I’d lost something vital but craved more of the depravity I’d tasted. It was as if I was chasing a high I could never quite catch. By evening, I left the office drained, the city’s humid air clinging to my skin as I walked through the darkening streets. In a narrow alley, my eyes caught a gleam of chrome—a sleek, expensive car idling under a flickering streetlight. The door swung open, and there was Rita, the trans sex worker, her sari slipping to reveal the smooth curve of her bare breasts, her nipples dark and hard against the thin fabric. She adjusted the cloth with a slow, deliberate motion, her lips curling into a sultry grin, her eyes sparkling with a mischief that promised every forbidden pleasure. She climbed into the car, her hips swaying, her confidence radiating like heat. I stood frozen, my heart pounding. What a life, I thought. Riding in rich men’s cars, getting fucked for cash, owning her desires without shame. A stab of envy hit me, sharp and bitter, but my cock throbbed, straining against my pants. I’m just a lonely bastard, I thought. Maybe I should go to her, see what happens. My feet moved forward, drawn to the alley’s pull, but doubt crashed in. Fuck this. I don’t need her. I’ll go home, jerk off to porn, and handle my own shit. I turned away, my steps quickening as I fled to the safety of my flat.
Stepping inside, I locked the door, and a wave of relief washed over me. No chaos, no people, just me and the silence of my own space. My sanctuary. I kicked off my shoes, stripped down to my lungi, and opened my laptop, the screen’s glow casting shadows across the room. I pulled up Eporner, my fingers trembling as I clicked on “Chloe Cherry - Gang Bang Creampie 328.” The video loaded, and there she was—Chloe, young and radiant, her pale, soft body a vision of raw desire. Her small, perky tits jiggled slightly, her tight ass quivering as she moved. My cock stiffened instantly, pulsing with need. Her smooth skin, every curve and dip, held my gaze like a magnet. A group of men surrounded her, their massive cocks hard and gleaming, thrusting toward her open mouth. Chloe’s lips wrapped around one, her tongue swirling over the swollen tip, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. They fucked her face with brutal intensity, shoving their cocks down her throat as she gagged, saliva dripping in long, glistening strands, her eyes watering but glinting with a hungry, shameless smile. One grabbed her blonde hair, ramming his cock deeper, her muffled moans—“Mmm… mmm…”—vibrating through the speakers. Another positioned behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded her ass, her cheeks bouncing with each thrust, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. They took turns, relentless, fucking her pussy and ass, their cocks plunging deep, unloading inside her one after another. Cum oozed from her pussy, thick and white, dripping down her thighs, splattering across her face, her ass, her body glistening with their release. Her moans grew louder, a mix of pain and ecstasy, her body trembling under the onslaught. I tore off my lungi, grabbed a bottle of coconut oil, and slicked my cock, the slippery warmth making me shudder. My hand moved fast, stroking my swollen shaft, precum leaking as I watched Chloe’s pussy stretch, her ass quiver, her face coated in cum. The pleasure built, a storm raging in my body, my balls tightening until I erupted, my cum splattering across my hand, my stomach, the bedsheet, leaving me panting, my heart racing.
My phone buzzed, shattering the moment. I was too lost in Chloe’s bouncing ass, the sight of cocks sliding in and out, her moans ringing in my ears like a siren’s call. I ignored it, my hand still stroking, chasing the fading edge of my climax. It rang again, and rage flared. Who the fuck is calling now? My body shook, my cock still hard, my mind screaming to crawl through the phone and fuck whoever dared interrupt me. I switched it off, tossing it onto the bed, and tried to dive back into the video, but it had ended. My cock softened, the fire fading. Fuck this shit. I opened xossipy, scrolling until I found a story about a woman getting double-penetrated, her slick pussy stretched by two cocks, her moans vivid in my mind. The words painted a scene—her body trembling, her juices dripping, the men’s cocks grinding inside her, her screams of pleasure. My cock hardened again, and I switched to a YourPriya video, her slightly thick ass taking a cock deep, her moans raw and desperate. The sight of her ass jiggling, the sound of her cries, reignited the fire in me. I slicked my cock with more oil, my hand moving furiously, the slippery glide driving me wild. My cum erupted again, hot and thick, coating my hand, my stomach, dripping onto the bed. I collapsed, exhausted, my body sated but my mind still hollow, the phone forgotten. A strange calm settled over me, but the emptiness lingered. I closed my eyes, drifting into sleep, one thought echoing: I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way.
The next day, work buried the missed call in the back of my mind. Papers, meetings, the hum of the office drowned out the noise in my head, but the restlessness lingered, a low hum beneath the surface. On the bus ride home, the crowd pressed tight, bodies jostling in the humid, suffocating air. The bus’s sway, the heat, the sweat-soaked skin of strangers brushing against me—it all stirred a primal, hungry lust. My eyes roamed, restless, until they landed on a girl in a tight red college dress, the fabric clinging to her curves, her buttons straining over her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples pressed against the cloth, hard and teasing. Beside her, a guy in a matching red shirt, their bodies pressed close, their intimacy obvious. They were together, heading somewhere, their closeness electric. He brushed against her, his hand grazing her waist, and she turned, giving him a shy, sultry smile that screamed invitation. My cock twitched, straining against my pants. Suddenly, he moved behind her, his hand sliding under her arm to cup her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple through the fabric. Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal, her lips parting slightly as she leaned into him. I stared, my cock throbbing, the heat of the bus amplifying my hunger. No one else seemed to notice, their eyes averted, as if this was just another moment in the city’s chaos. Mustafa’s words rang in my head: “The city’s full of fun—don’t miss a single chance.” My cock strained harder, begging to break free, my body buzzing with a savage need.
I summoned my courage, pushing through the crowd until I stood in front of her. My chest pressed against her soft, heavy breasts, her nipples grazing my shirt, sending electric sparks through my skin. Her warmth, the faint sweaty scent of her body, hit me like a drug, my cock pulsing with need. She looked up, her eyes wide with unease but flickering with curiosity. I pressed my bulging cock against her stomach, the hard ridge making her body quiver, her breath catching. Pleasure surged through me, my cock rubbing her navel through her dress, the friction driving me wild. She glanced at the guy, her eyes pleading, but he glared at me, his mouth opening to protest. I leaned in, my voice low and sharp. “I saw everything. I’ve got it on video. Let me join, or I’ll make a scene and find your families.” His face drained of color, his eyes wide with fear and defeat. He stepped back, silent, his hands trembling.
The girl looked at me, her eyes a storm of fear, shame, and something else—desire, maybe, buried deep. I cupped her cheek, my fingers rough against her soft skin, and leaned in, kissing her deeply. Her lips were warm, sweet, parting under mine as my tongue slipped inside, grazing her teeth, tasting her. Her faint perfume, mixed with the musky scent of her sweat, flooded my senses, my cock hardening further. She moaned softly, her sounds vibrating against my mouth, her body pressing closer. I grabbed the guy’s hand, guiding it back to her breast. “Keep squeezing,” I whispered. “No problem.” Hesitant, he complied, his fingers massaging her breast, teasing her nipple until it stiffened under his touch. I slid my hand down, rubbing her pussy through her dress, feeling her wetness soak through the fabric, her slick lips parting under my fingers. Her body trembled, her thighs clenching, her breath uneven. Emboldened, I slipped my hand under her dress, my fingers brushing her panties, her warm, wet heat making my cock throb. I stroked her pussy, my fingers gliding over her slick lips, her juices coating me.
I reached back, grabbing the guy’s cock through his pants, surprised by its soft, limp weight. He stared, shocked, his eyes wide. “What’s this?” I whispered, smirking. “A soft dick like this? How’ll you fuck her with that?” He stammered, “We don’t get chances like this. Just messing around on the bus.” The girl shot him a furious look, her face tight with frustration. I grinned. “No worries. I live alone. Come to my place, fuck as much as you want—but I’m joining in.” He nodded quickly, desperate. “Sounds good. You won’t hurt us, right?” “Why would I?” I said, my voice smooth. “I just want to have fun and make sure you do too.” The girl snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “What are you doing? Taking me to a stranger’s house to get fucked by both of you? We’re done!” The guy pleaded, “Sorry, I fucked up.” I laughed, low and confident. “Just have fun with me. I’ll make you forget your anger.”
We worked her together in the crowded bus, our hands relentless. I squeezed her soft, heavy breasts, their weight filling my palms, her nipples hard as I pinched them, rolling them between my fingers. She moaned, her body grinding against mine, her warmth seeping into me. The guy joined in, his fingers teasing her nipples through her dress, his touch hesitant but growing bolder. I slid my hand under her panties, stroking her slick pussy lips, her juices dripping, coating my fingers. I spread her lips, slipping a finger inside, her tight walls gripping me, pulsing with heat. She shuddered, her body leaning into mine, her breath ragged. I unzipped my pants, freeing my rock-hard cock, and pressed it against her pussy, the tip rubbing her wet lips through her panties, the friction electric. I pushed, but her pussy was so tight, only the head slipped in, her walls squeezing me, pleasure crashing through me like a tidal wave. The guy covered her mouth, muffling her moans as they grew louder, her body trembling between us. I thrust harder, my cock inching deeper, her tightness driving me to the edge.
The guy unzipped his pants, his soft cock brushing against mine as he pressed behind her. I grabbed it, stroking until it hardened, its warmth pulsing in my hand. I guided it to her asshole, pressing the tip against her tight hole. He thrust, his cock barely entering as she moaned, her body shaking, caught between us. I knelt, taking his cock in my mouth, its warm, salty taste filling me as I sucked hard, my lips gliding over the tip, my tongue swirling. Then I buried my face in her pussy, my tongue lapping her slick lips, her tangy juices flooding my mouth, her scent intoxicating. She moaned louder, her thighs clamping around my head, her body trembling. I guided his cock into her pussy, his thin shaft sliding halfway in, stretching her. She tried to scream, but I stood, pressing my mouth to hers, her moans melting into me, her lips soft and desperate. He fucked her, his cock slipping deeper, until his cum erupted, hot and slick, dripping from her pussy, coating her thighs. I scooped some, tasting its salty tang, the rawness sending a jolt through me. I smeared the rest on my cock, slicking it before thrusting back into her pussy. The cum’s slipperiness let me sink halfway in, her tight walls gripping me, pleasure surging like wildfire. I fucked her hard, her pussy rubbing my cock, the wet heat overwhelming. My cum exploded, hot and thick, mixing with hers, dripping down her thighs, pooling on the bus floor.
I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear. “Tell me, how was it?” She blushed, her voice barely a whisper. “Honestly, it was incredible. I never imagined this much pleasure in a crowded bus.” I grinned, my cock still twitching. “Come to my place sometime. The three of us will have even more fun.” She hesitated, her eyes flickering. “Maybe, but not today.” The guy looked at her, mumbling, “Sorry, I fucked up.” To me, he said, “Thanks for the fun.” I gave them my number, my fingers lingering on her hand. The bus hadn’t reached our stop. We held her close, my hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, slipping into her panties to stroke her dripping pussy. The guy rubbed her ass, his fingers teasing her tight hole, her body trembling between us, her moans soft but constant. When my stop came, I kissed her deeply, my tongue tasting her one last time, my fingers rubbing her pussy before I stepped off, the cool night air hitting my flushed skin.
Back home, I checked my phone—multiple missed calls from the same number. I called back, and Kakima’s voice answered, trembling, soaked in tears. “Akash, your uncle’s very sick. We’re helpless. He wants to see you. Please come to Halishahar soon.” My heart stopped. Why now, after all these years? Memories flooded back—childhood days at their house, Kakima’s sharp tongue cutting me down, playing hide-and-seek with Rima, her shy giggles echoing, my uncle’s quiet, distant presence. They’d all but erased me from their lives, and now, with his illness, they needed me. Anger mixed with duty, and I decided to go.
I planned to leave that night, but news came of riots on the roads—no travel for two days. I called Kakima, but Rima answered, her voice soft and warm, like a memory from a better time. “Akash da, how are you? When are you coming? Baba’s really sick.” My chest tightened at her tone, so familiar yet distant. “Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s trouble on the roads. I’ll leave the day after tomorrow.” I wanted to ask how she was, to hear more of her voice, but she hung up with a soft click, leaving me in silence. A strange warmth stirred—Rima’s voice, unchanged after all these years, clashing with Kakima’s sobs, my uncle’s illness, and the hollow ache in my chest. I returned to my flat, locking the door behind me.
My mind was a battlefield—Mina’s soft, yielding body, Rita’s sultry cock, the bus girl’s tight, dripping pussy—all fading as Rima’s voice and Kakima’s tears took over. I lay on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, one question burning: What’s waiting for me in Halishahar? My body still buzzed with the raw thrill of the bus, my cock twitching at the memory of her tight pussy, but my mind churned with Rima’s warmth, Kakima’s despair, and the emptiness that never left me. I closed my eyes, but sleep refused to come. The restlessness grew, my body alive with unspent desire, my mind heavy with questions. I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way. But what happens when I reach Halishahar?
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