19-08-2025, 05:15 PM
Chapter 33: Marked Secrets
Tuesday morning pulsed with the office's familiar rhythm, but Nivi felt the weight of Saturday night's fire and Sunday's rest as she stepped in, her high-neck navy kurti hugging her breasts just enough to tease, leggings tight on her hips, ass swaying subtly with each step. The love marks on her neck and chest had faded fast—ice and time working magic—but faint shadows lingered, hidden under the fabric.
Fuck, they're almost gone, but if someone spots them... kids' nails, yeah, that'll work, she thought, her pussy tingling faintly at the memory of Raghavan's lips sucking those spots, his tongue wrecking her to squirting. Tuesday’s here—facing his cuck eyes, the team’s stares.
I need to own it, keep my power, but careful—no fuel for gossip after that scare. She chose a high-neck navy kurti, modest but fitted, hugging her breasts just enough to tease without screaming, leggings clinging to her hips, her ass swaying subtly. From the front, she was professional, pretty; from behind, her curves whispered temptation, the fabric concealing the love marks but hinting at her fire. This hides them—safe, but I’ll still make them burn, she thought, clit pulsing, panties dampening at the thought of their eyes—Ashok’s especially, knowing what he saw.
The office eyes snapped to her—Ashwin's grin sharpening, Dinesh fumbling his coffee, Saritha and Lakshmi exchanging knowing looks. Ashok lingered back, face flushed, his cuck stare heavier, burning with Saturday's image—her tits bare, ass curved, pussy wet from orgasms. Fuck, he's staring harder, knows I'm the boss's slut, she thought, a thrill mixing with caution, her pussy clenching, panties dampening. He won't talk—Raghavan's threat sealed it—but his eyes... helpless, hungry. I'll own it, make him burn quieter.
At the tea station, the gang swarmed, banter crackling. Ashwin leaned close, eyes on her neck—the high neck hiding most, but a faint mark peeked at the collar. "Nivi, that kurti's teasing us—subtle, but damn, your glow's not. What's that on your neck? Kids roughhousing?" His voice was playful, but his gaze lingered, curious.
Dinesh smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, looks like scratches—or something funner. Spill, queen—who's the lucky bastard? Can't be Anand; we know that story." His tone was light, teasing, but probing, eyes flicking to her hips, her ass shifting as she poured tea. Fuck, they spotted the marks—almost gone, but shit, she thought, pussy throbbing faintly, mind racing: Lie quick, keep it fun. "Kids' nails," she said, voice sultry, indirect, turning to show her back view, ass swaying.
"Little monsters scratched me playing—nothing exciting." Her pussy leaked slightly, the lie naughty—fuck, if they knew Raghavan's lips sucked those, his tongue making me squirt...
Ashwin laughed, but his eyes narrowed, fun but skeptical. "Kids, huh? Sure—those look like passion scratches. Come on, Nivi—who's the guy? We know Anand's out; you're too hot for that drunk." The others chimed in, naughty jabs flying—"Lucky fucker getting those curves"—making her blush, pussy wetter. Fuck, they're pushing, wanting the truth, she thought, glancing at Ashok—he nodded subtly, supporting her lie, his cuck eyes burning but silent.
Ashok cleared his throat, voice shy but firm. "Probably kids—Nivi's always with them." He backed her, knowing the real story—Raghavan's tongue, her naked body—but puppet-loyal, deflecting. Fuck, he's covering for me—scared, but helpful, she thought, a naughty spark: His cuck fantasy fueled, protecting the slut he saw.
The gang laughed, but suspicion lingered—"We'll find out, queen"—fun but probing, their eyes on her ass, breasts, the faint mark. Serious undertone hit: Gossip could spread; careful, or it bites.
Later, without Nivi, the boys gossiped in the break room—Ashwin leaning in. "Those marks? Definitely not kids—passion bites. Who's banging Nivi? Can't be Anand; guy's a mess." Dinesh nodded. "Boss? They've been close—temple trips, her glow. Daddy vibes real."
Ashok shifted, voice steady but tense. "Nah, I was with them weekends—critical files, overtime. Nothing like that." He lied smooth, puppet protecting, but serious inside: Can't let them know—her naked, pussy wet; my fantasy, but boss's threat real.
The boss got busy as usual, calls and meetings, but Nivi felt his eyes—charged, naughty, implying Saturday's fire. Fuck, he wants me, but careful now, she thought, pussy throbbing.
That night, she thanked Ashok via chat: "Thanks for covering—means a lot." He replied quick: "Secret safe—sorry again." Fuck, he's loyal, but his eyes tomorrow... burn, she thought, the chapter ending on her prepping for Wednesday, fire serious but bold.
Continuees....
Tuesday morning pulsed with the office's familiar rhythm, but Nivi felt the weight of Saturday night's fire and Sunday's rest as she stepped in, her high-neck navy kurti hugging her breasts just enough to tease, leggings tight on her hips, ass swaying subtly with each step. The love marks on her neck and chest had faded fast—ice and time working magic—but faint shadows lingered, hidden under the fabric.
Fuck, they're almost gone, but if someone spots them... kids' nails, yeah, that'll work, she thought, her pussy tingling faintly at the memory of Raghavan's lips sucking those spots, his tongue wrecking her to squirting. Tuesday’s here—facing his cuck eyes, the team’s stares.
I need to own it, keep my power, but careful—no fuel for gossip after that scare. She chose a high-neck navy kurti, modest but fitted, hugging her breasts just enough to tease without screaming, leggings clinging to her hips, her ass swaying subtly. From the front, she was professional, pretty; from behind, her curves whispered temptation, the fabric concealing the love marks but hinting at her fire. This hides them—safe, but I’ll still make them burn, she thought, clit pulsing, panties dampening at the thought of their eyes—Ashok’s especially, knowing what he saw.
The office eyes snapped to her—Ashwin's grin sharpening, Dinesh fumbling his coffee, Saritha and Lakshmi exchanging knowing looks. Ashok lingered back, face flushed, his cuck stare heavier, burning with Saturday's image—her tits bare, ass curved, pussy wet from orgasms. Fuck, he's staring harder, knows I'm the boss's slut, she thought, a thrill mixing with caution, her pussy clenching, panties dampening. He won't talk—Raghavan's threat sealed it—but his eyes... helpless, hungry. I'll own it, make him burn quieter.
At the tea station, the gang swarmed, banter crackling. Ashwin leaned close, eyes on her neck—the high neck hiding most, but a faint mark peeked at the collar. "Nivi, that kurti's teasing us—subtle, but damn, your glow's not. What's that on your neck? Kids roughhousing?" His voice was playful, but his gaze lingered, curious.
Dinesh smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, looks like scratches—or something funner. Spill, queen—who's the lucky bastard? Can't be Anand; we know that story." His tone was light, teasing, but probing, eyes flicking to her hips, her ass shifting as she poured tea. Fuck, they spotted the marks—almost gone, but shit, she thought, pussy throbbing faintly, mind racing: Lie quick, keep it fun. "Kids' nails," she said, voice sultry, indirect, turning to show her back view, ass swaying.
"Little monsters scratched me playing—nothing exciting." Her pussy leaked slightly, the lie naughty—fuck, if they knew Raghavan's lips sucked those, his tongue making me squirt...
Ashwin laughed, but his eyes narrowed, fun but skeptical. "Kids, huh? Sure—those look like passion scratches. Come on, Nivi—who's the guy? We know Anand's out; you're too hot for that drunk." The others chimed in, naughty jabs flying—"Lucky fucker getting those curves"—making her blush, pussy wetter. Fuck, they're pushing, wanting the truth, she thought, glancing at Ashok—he nodded subtly, supporting her lie, his cuck eyes burning but silent.
Ashok cleared his throat, voice shy but firm. "Probably kids—Nivi's always with them." He backed her, knowing the real story—Raghavan's tongue, her naked body—but puppet-loyal, deflecting. Fuck, he's covering for me—scared, but helpful, she thought, a naughty spark: His cuck fantasy fueled, protecting the slut he saw.
The gang laughed, but suspicion lingered—"We'll find out, queen"—fun but probing, their eyes on her ass, breasts, the faint mark. Serious undertone hit: Gossip could spread; careful, or it bites.
Later, without Nivi, the boys gossiped in the break room—Ashwin leaning in. "Those marks? Definitely not kids—passion bites. Who's banging Nivi? Can't be Anand; guy's a mess." Dinesh nodded. "Boss? They've been close—temple trips, her glow. Daddy vibes real."
Ashok shifted, voice steady but tense. "Nah, I was with them weekends—critical files, overtime. Nothing like that." He lied smooth, puppet protecting, but serious inside: Can't let them know—her naked, pussy wet; my fantasy, but boss's threat real.
The boss got busy as usual, calls and meetings, but Nivi felt his eyes—charged, naughty, implying Saturday's fire. Fuck, he wants me, but careful now, she thought, pussy throbbing.
That night, she thanked Ashok via chat: "Thanks for covering—means a lot." He replied quick: "Secret safe—sorry again." Fuck, he's loyal, but his eyes tomorrow... burn, she thought, the chapter ending on her prepping for Wednesday, fire serious but bold.
Continuees....
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