Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri's mind spun, trapped, exposed as he pressed closer behind her.

The bus lurched through Hyderabad's clogged streets, its interior a suffocating press of bodies, sweat, and muffled curses.

His hand still gripped her ass, firm and unyielding, his rough fingers tracing the outline of her lace panties through the fabric. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the air thick with his scent, musk, heat, and something feral, and her mind reeled, torn between terror and a pulsing, shameful need.

"Who are you? Why are you behind me?" she whispered, barely audible over the bus's rumble, but her voice trembled, cracking under his touch.

Ishaan leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a slow, seductive growl: "You are a g0ddess and I am your loyal devotee, Madhuri. I craved you ever since I laid my eyes on you. I'm gonna worship you by sliding my hands under this dress, cup those heavy tits, roll your nipples till you're whimpering while they all stare"

Her body jolted, a soft moan escaping before she could clamp her lips shut, his words were a slow burn, dripping with raw passion, and her pussy clenched, soaking the lace further.

She squirmed, her pinned wrist twitching in his grip, but the crowd held her fast, nowhere to run, no way to hide. "Let me go, Please.." she hissed, but her hips betrayed her, brushing back against him, craving the hardness she felt growing.

He chuckled, dark and wicked, his free hand sliding up her side, grazing her breast again, deliberate, teasing, thumb flicking her hardened nipple through the dress. "Oh dear, I've only just begun."

Her knees buckled, a sharp "Ohh" slipping out, and she bit her tongue hard, her nipples poked shamelessly now, visible through the tight fabric, and every eye nearby seemed to catch it, leering, judging.

She yanked her shawl up with the hand holding the bar, a frail shield, but the bus lurched, forcing her to grab the rail again, letting it slip.

"Hide all you want, darling, your body's screaming for me, and I hear every note"

Up front, Abhi sat rigid, his eyes glued to the reflection, Madhuri's silhouette clear, the stalker's hands on her. His dick throbbed under his pants, hand rubbing slow and guilty,

Madhuri's mind spun, his voice, his grip, so familiar yet masked, and her volcano roared, her shame a flicker drowned by desire. "Everyone's watching.. please, stop.." she gasped, but his hand slid lower, gliding beyond her belly, brushing her thigh, and her resistance melted, her body his to play.