23-08-2025, 11:12 AM
Bharath's index finger traced a slow, swirling round on Geetha's nipple, a teasing gesture that sent a shiver through her. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she swallowed, her eyes half-lidded with anticipation.
His lips found the sensitive curve of her nape, pressing a soft kiss there, warm and deliberate. His hand drifted upward, and he slipped his finger into his mouth, savoring the faint sweetness of her vulva, a taste he likened to honey.
Geetha let out a soft, "Oh, don't stop..." her voice a mix of plea and surrender.
Bharath's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Mmm... it's good, Miss," he murmured, his tone playful yet edged with desire.
"Dirty," Geetha teased, her voice light but trembling with the heat building between them.
Emboldened, Bharath leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Miss, I'll lick it directly. Like I saw in that porn video."
Geetha gasped, a mix of shock and amusement flickering across her face. "Ugh, disgusting," she said, though her tone betrayed a spark of curiosity.
In a swift motion, she turned to face him, her hand slipping boldly inside his pajamas, her fingers closing around him with a confidence that made his breath hitch. Bharath's eyes widened, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Miss, why don't you lick mine?"
Geetha froze, her cheeks flushing. "Ugh..." she managed, caught off guard by his audacity.
His right hand found her breast, resting there briefly before sliding downward, grazing her navel and sending a tremor through her body. He ventured lower, resuming his earlier ministrations with a slow, deliberate touch that made her gasp. Geetha's fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring herself as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Aah..."
Bharath's voice was a low rumble. "Miss, at least I'll give you a kiss."
Geetha's resistance melted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mmm... do whatever you want... don't ask, just do it."
Her stubbornness dissolved, giving way to the pull of the moment, as their bodies pressed closer, caught in the quiet intensity of their shared desire.
As Bharath slowly sank to his knees, his movements deliberate and reverent, Geetha hesitated, her gaze flickering back to the mirror before her.
Bharath inched closer, his presence a quiet storm, and with a gentle brush of his lips, he stirred ripples in the delicate pool of sweetness nestled within the shadowed curves of her thighs.
Geetha let out a soft, "Ah..." Her lips pressed together, as if to trap the sound, but it escaped, trembling in the air.
The sensation rippled upward, a current that surged from the tender valley, cresting over the soft peaks of her body and igniting a fire that pulsed across her brow. Her breath hitched as waves of numbness cascaded through her, urging her to clutch Bharath’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Bharath, consumed by the allure of his radiant teacher, moved with a quiet audacity. His touch was both a betrayal and a worship, a dance of forbidden desire. His tongue traced a path that sent a shiver through her, claiming the valley with a single, deliberate motion that sparked a tremor deep within her core.
Geetha’s voice broke, a jagged, “Ash…” escaping as she bit down, her teeth grazing her lip in a futile attempt to anchor herself. Her body quaked, torn between surrender and resistance.
Bharath’s hands tightened around her hips, steady and unyielding, as he ascended to the clitoral throne, began salivary romance with her femininity.
“Aah… am… Bharath… Mmmm…” Geetha’s voice wavered, her hands flying to her mouth as if to stifle the sounds spilling from her. But there was no silencing the storm within.
In Bharath's body, nothing but his tongue was working.
His nose had long been clouded by her fragrant nectar.
His ears had long jumped into a prison from her moans.
His eyes were already blurred with intoxication.
His hands were shackled by her crescents.
In mirror, like a slave yearning for pleasure,
like a thirsty person who accepts the mistake,
like a ghost hungry for the essence of romance,
she looked at her reflection,
like a sparrow caught in his hand's cage and
laughed with a psychic pleasure.
Bharath licked her lotus like a cone of ice cream,
and when her tiny, bloody, jelly was scratched like a date seed,
all her eight thousand blood vessels tingled.
She looked at herself in the mirror and bit her hand,
her whole body trembling like a tuning fork.
Bharath was an innocent boy who didn't know how to do this act gently. He was licking, child hurried to eat an ice cream.
Geetha couldn't bear the assault.
The disturbance caused by his boat created an earthquake in the valley of elixir.
Her knees collapsed, her thighs quivered, and tsunami flow crossed flower garden like Sundarbans trees and hit the shore of Bharath's warm lips.
Her body sang, every nerve alight, as though the universe itself danced within her.
Bharath, caught in the moment, pressed closer, his touch relentless yet unguarded, like a puppy lapping at a stream. Geetha’s strength gave way, and she collapsed, folding into his lap like a fragile bird seeking shelter.
Her cheeks, flushed and glistening with the heat of their intimacy, met his gentle kisses.
With care, Bharath lifted her, his hands steady as he laid her upon the bed, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their closeness.
Geetha’s mind spun, tangled in a web of sensation and doubt.
Was this real?
A fevered dream born of her own desires?
An illusion woven by Bharath’s unguarded affection?
Or perhaps a spell cast by the thrill that still pulsed through her veins?
She lay there, a soft smile curling her lips,
her heart caught between confusion and contentment.
Curling into herself, she savored the warmth of the moment,
her body resting in the glow of what had passed.
Bharath leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Miss…” he murmured, his voice soft.
Geetha’s eyes flickered with playful reproach. “Dirty… dog,” she teased, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection. “You cheated me.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “Shall I say sorry?”
She hummed, her tone light but laced with challenge. “Mmm…”
“How should I say it?” he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Geetha raised an eyebrow. “How will you say it?”
“Let’s make it even,” Bharath said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Meaning?” she asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
“Miss, kiss mine,” he said, his words bold yet softened by the vulnerability in his gaze.
Geetha’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled. “Go away… not even Gautham ever did this. You’re no child—you’re a scoundrel. I never imagined you’d be this bold.”
Bharath chuckled, undeterred, and leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of her back. A shiver ran through her, playful and involuntary, as she swatted at him weakly. “Mmm,” she murmured, half-protesting, half-surrendering to the moment.
“Miss,” he said again, his voice a gentle coax. He took her hand, guiding it with deliberate care. Her fingers trembled as they brushed against him, the heat of his skin startling her. She stole a glance, her breath catching at the sight of him—bare, unguarded, his desire evident in the tension of his erection.
“Turn around, Miss,” he urged softly, his hands finding her shoulders to gently guide her onto her back.
Geetha resisted for a moment, her murmured “Uh-uh” barely audible. But Bharath’s touch was insistent, and soon she faced him, her eyes meeting his. He leaned over her, his warmth pressing close, his gaze locking with hers. “Miss, kiss me?” he asked, his voice a mix of plea and promise.
Her eyes drifted downward, catching the evidence of his longing, and a flicker of desire crossed her face. Her lips parted, a soft breath escaping as she leaned toward him. Bharath’s kiss claimed her, deep and unyielding, as their bodies pressed closer, the heat between them a quiet torment. His touch lingered, tracing the contours of her form, and in that moment, the world beyond them ceased to exist.
Charged with the electricity of their closeness. Bharat's voice, low and teasing, broke the quiet. "Miss... does it feel good when I do that?"
Geeta's response was a soft hum, her breath catching as she leaned into the moment. Her eyes, half-lidded, betrayed the heat stirring within her.
"Gautam sir never did this, did he?"
"No," Geeta murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. "This is the first time... Your actions are all so crazy."
His lips found the delicate curve of her neck, kissing softly as his hand moved with bold confidence, cupping and squeezing her breast. A gasp escaped Geeta's lips, a sharp "Ahh..." that fueled his desire further.
"I'll be like a dog with you," Bharat whispered, his voice thick with devotion. "I'll do anything for your pleasure, Miss... I just want to keep looking at your beauty."
Geeta let out a soft moan, her body responding to his words, to the intensity of his touch. "Ooh..."
"Miss, you have to be open with me," he urged, his tone both commanding and pleading. "Tell me, Miss... will you use me?"
Geeta's mind raced, searching for hidden meanings in his words, her thoughts tangled in the heat of the moment. Bharat's lips trailed lower, kissing her chest, his hands kneading her breasts with a reverence that made her pulse quicken. "Miss, this is how I want to be," he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. "When you're alone, I want to be your companion, to give you pleasure with kisses..." His lips brushed her nipple, sending a shiver through her. "...and playing with your breasts."
Geeta's breath hitched, her hand instinctively finding him, her fingers wrapping around his arousal with a boldness that surprised even herself. "Mmmm..." she moaned, her grip tightening as Bharat groaned in response.
"Ha..." he gasped, his hips moving instinctively. "Licking your navel, smelling your scent..." His lips closed around her nipple, sucking gently, and Geeta's resolve began to crumble.
"Oh God... stop it," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.
Bharat paused, his eyes locking with hers, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Should I stop?" he asked, his tone teasing.
Geeta's lips curved into a naughty smile, and she playfully patted his cheek. Emboldened, Bharat nipped at her nipple, now taut and red as a pomegranate seed, drawing a sharp "Isss..." from her lips.
His hips moved rhythmically, grinding against her hand. "Ha... It feels so good when you touch me," he murmured, his voice raw with need. He kissed her other breast, each press of his lips stoking the fire within her.
With every kiss, Geeta's passion climbed higher, her inhibitions shattering like fragile glass. Her desire surged toward a precipice, yearning for the one word, the one question that would unlock the floodgates of her longing.
Bharat took her hand, guiding it to his arousal, his finger slick with precum as he brought it to her lips. Geeta tasted it, her tongue swirling around his finger like it was a sweet confection. He withdrew his finger only to capture her lips in a searing kiss, their bodies collapsing to the side in a tangle of limbs.
No words were needed now; their eyes spoke volumes, the intensity of their desire a silent agreement. Geeta pushed him onto his back, her movements possessive, almost feral, as she claimed his lips in a hungry kiss. Bharat's hand wandered, his index finger brushing between her thighs, eliciting a sharp "Ahh..." from Geeta as she shook her head, torn between protest and surrender.
He brought his finger to his lips, tasting her sweetness, and Geeta laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He guided her hand to his arousal once more, then brought it back to her mouth, savoring the mingling of their essences. Geeta's gaze turned lustful as she sucked his fingers, relishing the sharp, heady scent of him.
"Dirty teacher," Bharat teased, his voice low and rough. "You have no shame."
Geeta only smirked, drawing his fingers deeper into her mouth. "Miss, kiss it there," he urged, his tone a mix of command and plea.
She hesitated, her fingers slipping from his lips as he smeared her saliva across her cheek. "Uh-uh..." she murmured, feigning resistance.
"You're being stubborn," Bharat said, his eyes glinting with challenge.
"No..." Geeta replied, but her voice wavered, betraying her desire.
"Tit for tat... Do it," he pressed.
Geeta's resolve wavered. She wanted more than just a kiss—she wanted to show him, to teach him the depths of pleasure. "Uh-uh..." she teased, drawing out the moment.
"Please..." Bharat whispered, his voice raw with need.
Finally, she relented. Moving with deliberate slowness, she kissed his chest, then lower, her lips brushing just below his heart. Her pulse raced as she slid back on her knees, reaching the edge of the bed. Her hand closed around her lover’s veiny, pulsing arousal, its tip glistening like a beacon in the dim light. She straightened it, her breath catching as she met his gaze.
Bharat's thoughts raced, his eyes fixed on her lips. ‘Miss, do you want to give it to me...?’ he wondered, his heart pounding.
Geeta looked up at him, her expression a mix of startlement and invitation.
His lips found the sensitive curve of her nape, pressing a soft kiss there, warm and deliberate. His hand drifted upward, and he slipped his finger into his mouth, savoring the faint sweetness of her vulva, a taste he likened to honey.
Geetha let out a soft, "Oh, don't stop..." her voice a mix of plea and surrender.
Bharath's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Mmm... it's good, Miss," he murmured, his tone playful yet edged with desire.
"Dirty," Geetha teased, her voice light but trembling with the heat building between them.
Emboldened, Bharath leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Miss, I'll lick it directly. Like I saw in that porn video."
Geetha gasped, a mix of shock and amusement flickering across her face. "Ugh, disgusting," she said, though her tone betrayed a spark of curiosity.
In a swift motion, she turned to face him, her hand slipping boldly inside his pajamas, her fingers closing around him with a confidence that made his breath hitch. Bharath's eyes widened, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Miss, why don't you lick mine?"
Geetha froze, her cheeks flushing. "Ugh..." she managed, caught off guard by his audacity.
His right hand found her breast, resting there briefly before sliding downward, grazing her navel and sending a tremor through her body. He ventured lower, resuming his earlier ministrations with a slow, deliberate touch that made her gasp. Geetha's fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring herself as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Aah..."
Bharath's voice was a low rumble. "Miss, at least I'll give you a kiss."
Geetha's resistance melted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mmm... do whatever you want... don't ask, just do it."
Her stubbornness dissolved, giving way to the pull of the moment, as their bodies pressed closer, caught in the quiet intensity of their shared desire.
As Bharath slowly sank to his knees, his movements deliberate and reverent, Geetha hesitated, her gaze flickering back to the mirror before her.
Bharath inched closer, his presence a quiet storm, and with a gentle brush of his lips, he stirred ripples in the delicate pool of sweetness nestled within the shadowed curves of her thighs.
Geetha let out a soft, "Ah..." Her lips pressed together, as if to trap the sound, but it escaped, trembling in the air.
The sensation rippled upward, a current that surged from the tender valley, cresting over the soft peaks of her body and igniting a fire that pulsed across her brow. Her breath hitched as waves of numbness cascaded through her, urging her to clutch Bharath’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Bharath, consumed by the allure of his radiant teacher, moved with a quiet audacity. His touch was both a betrayal and a worship, a dance of forbidden desire. His tongue traced a path that sent a shiver through her, claiming the valley with a single, deliberate motion that sparked a tremor deep within her core.
Geetha’s voice broke, a jagged, “Ash…” escaping as she bit down, her teeth grazing her lip in a futile attempt to anchor herself. Her body quaked, torn between surrender and resistance.
Bharath’s hands tightened around her hips, steady and unyielding, as he ascended to the clitoral throne, began salivary romance with her femininity.
“Aah… am… Bharath… Mmmm…” Geetha’s voice wavered, her hands flying to her mouth as if to stifle the sounds spilling from her. But there was no silencing the storm within.
In Bharath's body, nothing but his tongue was working.
His nose had long been clouded by her fragrant nectar.
His ears had long jumped into a prison from her moans.
His eyes were already blurred with intoxication.
His hands were shackled by her crescents.
In mirror, like a slave yearning for pleasure,
like a thirsty person who accepts the mistake,
like a ghost hungry for the essence of romance,
she looked at her reflection,
like a sparrow caught in his hand's cage and
laughed with a psychic pleasure.
Bharath licked her lotus like a cone of ice cream,
and when her tiny, bloody, jelly was scratched like a date seed,
all her eight thousand blood vessels tingled.
She looked at herself in the mirror and bit her hand,
her whole body trembling like a tuning fork.
Bharath was an innocent boy who didn't know how to do this act gently. He was licking, child hurried to eat an ice cream.
Geetha couldn't bear the assault.
The disturbance caused by his boat created an earthquake in the valley of elixir.
Her knees collapsed, her thighs quivered, and tsunami flow crossed flower garden like Sundarbans trees and hit the shore of Bharath's warm lips.
Her body sang, every nerve alight, as though the universe itself danced within her.
Bharath, caught in the moment, pressed closer, his touch relentless yet unguarded, like a puppy lapping at a stream. Geetha’s strength gave way, and she collapsed, folding into his lap like a fragile bird seeking shelter.
Her cheeks, flushed and glistening with the heat of their intimacy, met his gentle kisses.
With care, Bharath lifted her, his hands steady as he laid her upon the bed, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their closeness.
Geetha’s mind spun, tangled in a web of sensation and doubt.
Was this real?
A fevered dream born of her own desires?
An illusion woven by Bharath’s unguarded affection?
Or perhaps a spell cast by the thrill that still pulsed through her veins?
She lay there, a soft smile curling her lips,
her heart caught between confusion and contentment.
Curling into herself, she savored the warmth of the moment,
her body resting in the glow of what had passed.
Bharath leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Miss…” he murmured, his voice soft.
Geetha’s eyes flickered with playful reproach. “Dirty… dog,” she teased, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection. “You cheated me.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “Shall I say sorry?”
She hummed, her tone light but laced with challenge. “Mmm…”
“How should I say it?” he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Geetha raised an eyebrow. “How will you say it?”
“Let’s make it even,” Bharath said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Meaning?” she asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
“Miss, kiss mine,” he said, his words bold yet softened by the vulnerability in his gaze.
Geetha’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled. “Go away… not even Gautham ever did this. You’re no child—you’re a scoundrel. I never imagined you’d be this bold.”
Bharath chuckled, undeterred, and leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of her back. A shiver ran through her, playful and involuntary, as she swatted at him weakly. “Mmm,” she murmured, half-protesting, half-surrendering to the moment.
“Miss,” he said again, his voice a gentle coax. He took her hand, guiding it with deliberate care. Her fingers trembled as they brushed against him, the heat of his skin startling her. She stole a glance, her breath catching at the sight of him—bare, unguarded, his desire evident in the tension of his erection.
“Turn around, Miss,” he urged softly, his hands finding her shoulders to gently guide her onto her back.
Geetha resisted for a moment, her murmured “Uh-uh” barely audible. But Bharath’s touch was insistent, and soon she faced him, her eyes meeting his. He leaned over her, his warmth pressing close, his gaze locking with hers. “Miss, kiss me?” he asked, his voice a mix of plea and promise.
Her eyes drifted downward, catching the evidence of his longing, and a flicker of desire crossed her face. Her lips parted, a soft breath escaping as she leaned toward him. Bharath’s kiss claimed her, deep and unyielding, as their bodies pressed closer, the heat between them a quiet torment. His touch lingered, tracing the contours of her form, and in that moment, the world beyond them ceased to exist.
Charged with the electricity of their closeness. Bharat's voice, low and teasing, broke the quiet. "Miss... does it feel good when I do that?"
Geeta's response was a soft hum, her breath catching as she leaned into the moment. Her eyes, half-lidded, betrayed the heat stirring within her.
"Gautam sir never did this, did he?"
"No," Geeta murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. "This is the first time... Your actions are all so crazy."
His lips found the delicate curve of her neck, kissing softly as his hand moved with bold confidence, cupping and squeezing her breast. A gasp escaped Geeta's lips, a sharp "Ahh..." that fueled his desire further.
"I'll be like a dog with you," Bharat whispered, his voice thick with devotion. "I'll do anything for your pleasure, Miss... I just want to keep looking at your beauty."
Geeta let out a soft moan, her body responding to his words, to the intensity of his touch. "Ooh..."
"Miss, you have to be open with me," he urged, his tone both commanding and pleading. "Tell me, Miss... will you use me?"
Geeta's mind raced, searching for hidden meanings in his words, her thoughts tangled in the heat of the moment. Bharat's lips trailed lower, kissing her chest, his hands kneading her breasts with a reverence that made her pulse quicken. "Miss, this is how I want to be," he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. "When you're alone, I want to be your companion, to give you pleasure with kisses..." His lips brushed her nipple, sending a shiver through her. "...and playing with your breasts."
Geeta's breath hitched, her hand instinctively finding him, her fingers wrapping around his arousal with a boldness that surprised even herself. "Mmmm..." she moaned, her grip tightening as Bharat groaned in response.
"Ha..." he gasped, his hips moving instinctively. "Licking your navel, smelling your scent..." His lips closed around her nipple, sucking gently, and Geeta's resolve began to crumble.
"Oh God... stop it," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.
Bharat paused, his eyes locking with hers, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Should I stop?" he asked, his tone teasing.
Geeta's lips curved into a naughty smile, and she playfully patted his cheek. Emboldened, Bharat nipped at her nipple, now taut and red as a pomegranate seed, drawing a sharp "Isss..." from her lips.
His hips moved rhythmically, grinding against her hand. "Ha... It feels so good when you touch me," he murmured, his voice raw with need. He kissed her other breast, each press of his lips stoking the fire within her.
With every kiss, Geeta's passion climbed higher, her inhibitions shattering like fragile glass. Her desire surged toward a precipice, yearning for the one word, the one question that would unlock the floodgates of her longing.
Bharat took her hand, guiding it to his arousal, his finger slick with precum as he brought it to her lips. Geeta tasted it, her tongue swirling around his finger like it was a sweet confection. He withdrew his finger only to capture her lips in a searing kiss, their bodies collapsing to the side in a tangle of limbs.
No words were needed now; their eyes spoke volumes, the intensity of their desire a silent agreement. Geeta pushed him onto his back, her movements possessive, almost feral, as she claimed his lips in a hungry kiss. Bharat's hand wandered, his index finger brushing between her thighs, eliciting a sharp "Ahh..." from Geeta as she shook her head, torn between protest and surrender.
He brought his finger to his lips, tasting her sweetness, and Geeta laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He guided her hand to his arousal once more, then brought it back to her mouth, savoring the mingling of their essences. Geeta's gaze turned lustful as she sucked his fingers, relishing the sharp, heady scent of him.
"Dirty teacher," Bharat teased, his voice low and rough. "You have no shame."
Geeta only smirked, drawing his fingers deeper into her mouth. "Miss, kiss it there," he urged, his tone a mix of command and plea.
She hesitated, her fingers slipping from his lips as he smeared her saliva across her cheek. "Uh-uh..." she murmured, feigning resistance.
"You're being stubborn," Bharat said, his eyes glinting with challenge.
"No..." Geeta replied, but her voice wavered, betraying her desire.
"Tit for tat... Do it," he pressed.
Geeta's resolve wavered. She wanted more than just a kiss—she wanted to show him, to teach him the depths of pleasure. "Uh-uh..." she teased, drawing out the moment.
"Please..." Bharat whispered, his voice raw with need.
Finally, she relented. Moving with deliberate slowness, she kissed his chest, then lower, her lips brushing just below his heart. Her pulse raced as she slid back on her knees, reaching the edge of the bed. Her hand closed around her lover’s veiny, pulsing arousal, its tip glistening like a beacon in the dim light. She straightened it, her breath catching as she met his gaze.
Bharat's thoughts raced, his eyes fixed on her lips. ‘Miss, do you want to give it to me...?’ he wondered, his heart pounding.
Geeta looked up at him, her expression a mix of startlement and invitation.
‘Ask ra’
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