31-08-2025, 09:33 PM
Saga 2 - Scene 3 - Baba ka powder
========================
Murari pulled his cock out of Dipa’s slick, flooded cunt with a wet, sucking sound. He lay beside her, panting, his body gleaming with sweat. The room was thick with the smells of sex, milk, and the sweet.
Murari: Ahhh… I need to rest, Memsahab. Your energy… it is too powerful. Fucking you is like fucking a lightning storm. A man needs to catch his breath.
Keshav, who had been kissing Dipa’s face and neck, moved over her. His own cock was still ramrod straight, glistening with her juices.
Keshav: Bhai! Maza aa gaya isko kiss karke. Her lips are so soft, it is nothing like I have ever tasted.
He was stroking his cock, the head dark and wet. He moved closer to Dipa’s face, positioning the tip of his erection right in front of her parted lips. The drug was still singing in her veins; the world was a beautiful, swirling kaleidoscope of color and sensation. His cock was a conduit of the masculine energy she was healing.
Keshav: Your mouth, Memsahab… it looks so hungry. It healed me with a kiss. Now, let it heal this.
He gently pressed the head of his cock against her lips. Dipa opened her mouth without hesitation, a willing receptacle. He pushed forward slowly, the thick shaft sliding past her teeth, filling her mouth. She closed her lips around him, her tongue beginning to lick and explore the rigid flesh.
Keshav: Ohhh, fuck… yes… just like that. Your mouth is so hot… so wet. It feels better than your pussy. I can feel you sucking the last of the sickness out of me.
He began to move his hips, fucking her mouth in a slow, deep rhythm. Dipa was in heaven. This was the true work. She was drawing the poison out, consuming it, transforming it with her divine power. She enjoyed it so much, a new, generous thought bloomed in her psychedelic haze. She reached out and patted Murari’s thigh.
Dipa: Murari… come. Don’t rest. There is more healing to be done. My mouth has room for two. Both of you must be made whole.
Murari stared in disbelief for a second, then a wide, wolfish grin spread across his face. He scrambled into position beside his brother, his own cock just as hard and ready. He pushed it into the side of her mouth.
Murari: Yes, Memsahab. Heal me too. Make us both strong in your fire.
She was now taking both of them, two thick cocks filling her mouth, her head moving from side to side, trying to pleasure them both. It was a struggle, but a blissful one.
Keshav: Bhai, I can’t hold it much longer. Her mouth… it’s pulling everything out of me. I’m going to cum!
Murari: Me too! She’s sucking my soul out through my dick! I’m about to explode!
They began to fuck her face more frantically, their groans filling the small hut. Dipa felt the energy building, the final moment of the ritual approaching.
Dipa: (muffled) Yes… good… release it. Ejaculate the curse into my mouth. I will swallow it. I will purify it. It is the only way to complete the healing. Give it all to me now!
Hearing her command, they lost all control. Keshav grabbed her hair, holding her head steady as he pounded his cock against the back of her throat.
Keshav: Take it, Memsahab! Take all my poison!
Murari: Yes, Memsahab! Drink our sins!
With a final, simultaneous roar, they both erupted, flooding her mouth with their hot, thick semen. It was an overwhelming torrent, but in her state, it was healing. She swallowed dutifully, a wave of profound accomplishment washing over her. The ritual was complete. The curse was broken. She had saved them.
They collapsed on either side of her, spent and panting. The psychedelic intensity in her mind began to recede, the swirling colors softening, the pulsing sounds fading into a gentle hum. The world was slowly coming back into focus. She was lying naked on a cot, sticky with sweat and semen, between two naked men.
Dipa: (her voice a little shaky, half-dizzy) Are you… are you feeling better now? Is the sickness gone?
Keshav: (smiling) Yes, Memsahab. You cured us. You are a true mother. We can never repay you.
Murari: My brother is alive again. He is a man again. It is all because of you.
She sat up, feeling a little weak. The room was just a drab, poor hut again. She felt a faint wave of nausea.
Dipa: I need… some water.
Murari quickly fetched a cup of water for her. She drank it, the cool liquid helping to clear her head. She looked at her sari and blouse, discarded in a heap on the floor.
Dipa: I should… I should clean up.
She stood on shaky legs and began to wipe herself down with the end of her sari. The brothers watched her, their eyes no longer filled with desperate need, but with a lazy, satisfied ownership. She didn't notice. She was still wrapped in the fading glow of her perceived miracle.
Dipa: You must take care of yourselves now. Eat well. Be good to each other.
Keshav: We will, Memsahab. We owe our lives to you.
She slowly put on her blouse, her bra, her petticoat. The familiar clothes felt strange, restrictive. She wrapped her sari around herself, her movements a little clumsy. She felt disconnected from her own body, as if she were watching a stranger get dressed.
Murari: Will you come back, Memsahab? To check on your children?
Dipa: (still in a daze) I… I don’t know. I have to go home. My son…
She walked to the door, her head still swimming slightly. She turned back to look at them. They were sitting up on the cot, two young, healthy men, their bodies lean and strong. She had done that. She had made them well. A sense of deep, profound satisfaction settled over her, overriding the faint, nagging feeling that something was very, very wrong. She smiled at them, a final, beatific smile, and stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.
========================
Murari pulled his cock out of Dipa’s slick, flooded cunt with a wet, sucking sound. He lay beside her, panting, his body gleaming with sweat. The room was thick with the smells of sex, milk, and the sweet.
Murari: Ahhh… I need to rest, Memsahab. Your energy… it is too powerful. Fucking you is like fucking a lightning storm. A man needs to catch his breath.
Keshav, who had been kissing Dipa’s face and neck, moved over her. His own cock was still ramrod straight, glistening with her juices.
Keshav: Bhai! Maza aa gaya isko kiss karke. Her lips are so soft, it is nothing like I have ever tasted.
He was stroking his cock, the head dark and wet. He moved closer to Dipa’s face, positioning the tip of his erection right in front of her parted lips. The drug was still singing in her veins; the world was a beautiful, swirling kaleidoscope of color and sensation. His cock was a conduit of the masculine energy she was healing.
Keshav: Your mouth, Memsahab… it looks so hungry. It healed me with a kiss. Now, let it heal this.
He gently pressed the head of his cock against her lips. Dipa opened her mouth without hesitation, a willing receptacle. He pushed forward slowly, the thick shaft sliding past her teeth, filling her mouth. She closed her lips around him, her tongue beginning to lick and explore the rigid flesh.
Keshav: Ohhh, fuck… yes… just like that. Your mouth is so hot… so wet. It feels better than your pussy. I can feel you sucking the last of the sickness out of me.
He began to move his hips, fucking her mouth in a slow, deep rhythm. Dipa was in heaven. This was the true work. She was drawing the poison out, consuming it, transforming it with her divine power. She enjoyed it so much, a new, generous thought bloomed in her psychedelic haze. She reached out and patted Murari’s thigh.
Dipa: Murari… come. Don’t rest. There is more healing to be done. My mouth has room for two. Both of you must be made whole.
Murari stared in disbelief for a second, then a wide, wolfish grin spread across his face. He scrambled into position beside his brother, his own cock just as hard and ready. He pushed it into the side of her mouth.
Murari: Yes, Memsahab. Heal me too. Make us both strong in your fire.
She was now taking both of them, two thick cocks filling her mouth, her head moving from side to side, trying to pleasure them both. It was a struggle, but a blissful one.
Keshav: Bhai, I can’t hold it much longer. Her mouth… it’s pulling everything out of me. I’m going to cum!
Murari: Me too! She’s sucking my soul out through my dick! I’m about to explode!
They began to fuck her face more frantically, their groans filling the small hut. Dipa felt the energy building, the final moment of the ritual approaching.
Dipa: (muffled) Yes… good… release it. Ejaculate the curse into my mouth. I will swallow it. I will purify it. It is the only way to complete the healing. Give it all to me now!
Hearing her command, they lost all control. Keshav grabbed her hair, holding her head steady as he pounded his cock against the back of her throat.
Keshav: Take it, Memsahab! Take all my poison!
Murari: Yes, Memsahab! Drink our sins!
With a final, simultaneous roar, they both erupted, flooding her mouth with their hot, thick semen. It was an overwhelming torrent, but in her state, it was healing. She swallowed dutifully, a wave of profound accomplishment washing over her. The ritual was complete. The curse was broken. She had saved them.
They collapsed on either side of her, spent and panting. The psychedelic intensity in her mind began to recede, the swirling colors softening, the pulsing sounds fading into a gentle hum. The world was slowly coming back into focus. She was lying naked on a cot, sticky with sweat and semen, between two naked men.
Dipa: (her voice a little shaky, half-dizzy) Are you… are you feeling better now? Is the sickness gone?
Keshav: (smiling) Yes, Memsahab. You cured us. You are a true mother. We can never repay you.
Murari: My brother is alive again. He is a man again. It is all because of you.
She sat up, feeling a little weak. The room was just a drab, poor hut again. She felt a faint wave of nausea.
Dipa: I need… some water.
Murari quickly fetched a cup of water for her. She drank it, the cool liquid helping to clear her head. She looked at her sari and blouse, discarded in a heap on the floor.
Dipa: I should… I should clean up.
She stood on shaky legs and began to wipe herself down with the end of her sari. The brothers watched her, their eyes no longer filled with desperate need, but with a lazy, satisfied ownership. She didn't notice. She was still wrapped in the fading glow of her perceived miracle.
Dipa: You must take care of yourselves now. Eat well. Be good to each other.
Keshav: We will, Memsahab. We owe our lives to you.
She slowly put on her blouse, her bra, her petticoat. The familiar clothes felt strange, restrictive. She wrapped her sari around herself, her movements a little clumsy. She felt disconnected from her own body, as if she were watching a stranger get dressed.
Murari: Will you come back, Memsahab? To check on your children?
Dipa: (still in a daze) I… I don’t know. I have to go home. My son…
She walked to the door, her head still swimming slightly. She turned back to look at them. They were sitting up on the cot, two young, healthy men, their bodies lean and strong. She had done that. She had made them well. A sense of deep, profound satisfaction settled over her, overriding the faint, nagging feeling that something was very, very wrong. She smiled at them, a final, beatific smile, and stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.
=======
The erotic writer.
The erotic writer.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)