30-09-2025, 11:39 PM
(CHAPTER CONTD)
THAT EVENING AT WANKHEDE STADIUM
The cricket stadium was roaring with chants, horns, and commentary, but Mrunal Thakur felt like none of it mattered. She sat in the plush VIP gallery seat, dressed elegantly for cameras, yet the monotony of the game bored her. Her phone became her escape—scrolling through social media, answering texts, checking promotions for her film. Every few minutes, she glanced at the field out of obligation, sighing softly as though counting down until freedom.
Then, a ripple passed through the air of the VIP lounge. A familiar figure walked in, tall and commanding even in his casual t-shirt and fitted jeans. Hemant Kumar arrived at the venue. He carried himself not like a spectator, but like someone who owned whatever room he entered. When his gaze swept across the lounge and landed on her, a flicker of recognition sparked. Mrunal straightened slightly, brushing her hair aside, surprised yet intrigued.
They exchanged greetings warmly. The last time they had spoken was during a Manish Malhotra bridal photoshoot, which gave boost to Hemant’s fame in the city as a Business Magnate. The memory returned quickly—the sharp way his eyes followed her during that shoot, how he made the silences between poses feel electric. Now, in this chaotic stadium, that current was back. Their small talk began innocently. She asked about his life, his travels, the responsibilities of managing an industrial giant. When the conversation drifted, she let her guard down and teased.
"I heard you’ve been coaching Ananya Pandey at tennis. Should I be jealous?"
Her eyes gleamed with playful challenge. Hemant smirked, leaning back in his chair
"It was just a friendly gesture. Nothing worth your jealousy Mrunal"
Her voice lowered, almost conspiratorial.
"And what about the whispers that you and Pranitha Mehta are... close?"
Hemant’s reply was calm, unwavering:
"Don’t believe everything you hear. No one owns me, Mrunal"
There was something in his tone—an assertion of independence—that made her pulse quicken. As the match dragged on, Hemant noticed her distracted demeanor.
"You’re not into this game, are you?" he asked. She gave a small shrug.
"It’s not even my favorite team playing. I’m here because I have to be"
He studied her a moment longer, then leaned forward.
"What if we did something… fun instead?" His eyes lingered on hers, a suggestion laced in his smile.
Curiosity mixed with mischief inside her. She hesitated, then nodded, almost surprising herself with the ease of her agreement. Hemant stood, gestured casually, and guided her away from the crowded gallery. Security nodded them through as they ascended toward the quieter upper decks. She followed, her heartbeat growing restless. When the doors opened, she gasped. The suite was unlike anything she expected—vast, silent, luxurious. A private space shimmered beneath soft lights, a bar stood stocked with vintage bottles, and a pool table lay at the center. Beyond the glass, the match continued with muted noise, but here, it was an oasis of privacy.
"You booked this whole suite… for tonight?" she asked, half-amused, half-astonished.
Hemant’s reply was simple, almost daring.
"Just for few hours......I thought you’d prefer real entertainment"
His words hung in the air. Mrunal folded her arms, feigning resistance.
"And what exactly are we supposed to do here?" she pressed.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping:
"You already know the answer"
She bit her lip, still testing him.
"Aren’t you supposed to be Pranitha’s boy toy?"
His eyes darkened with certainty.
"No one controls Hemant Kumar" he said firmly.
The conviction in his tone silenced her doubts. Then, with one decisive step, he claimed her mouth with his. The kiss burned away her hesitation, filling the room with raw chemistry. What began as tentative escalated quickly. Their lips moved hungrily, their bodies pressed close, hands exploring the familiar yet forbidden. The jerseys they wore in playful solidarity with the teams became the first casualties, peeled off with laughter and impatience. Denims followed, leaving them vulnerable to the heat rising between them. The distant roar of the crowd seemed like background music to their private spectacle.
They moved to the pool table, a surface that became their stage. Her fingers gripped its edges as his kisses trailed down her neck, sending shivers through her spine.
Hemant lifted her up and placed her on the edge of the pool table. She spread her legs and he took off her small black panty. The smell of her desire clouded the room instantly letting him know that she had been sexually charged as much as he had. Mrunal sat on the edge of the table with her legs spread wide. Hemant dropped to his knees and brought his tongue to her wet pussy instantly. She tasted so good and so much pouring out of her that he was wishing he could bottle it up and save it for later.
"Ahhh fuck!"
Moaned Mrunal as Hemant circled his tongue around her clit. Her hands grabbed the back of his head and drove his head harder against her clit. He sucked the little nub in his mouth using his tongue to stimulate her as well.
"WOW!!!!."
Mrunal screamed as she started humping Hemant's face. He drove a finger into her soaping wet pussy and made her whimper even more. He used his tongue to lash her clit over and over again while his fingers pumped rhythmically in and out of her tight hole. Mrunal held on to his head tightly as she came hard on his tongue. Her juices pumped out of her and all around his mouth. Hemant sucked and licked greedily at all she had to offer.
He stood up and kissed her, letting her taste her own juices.
"You taste incredible." Hemant told her.
"I do. I see why you were down there like a starving man."
"I couldn't help myself"
He told her before she undid his boxers and pushed it to the ground. His dick was hard and pointing right at her.
"I want to help myself to some of this."
She said as she took off her bra and tossed it on a pile with her jeans and jersey. She grabbed his hand and led him to one of the couches. She pushed him down and straddled his hips. She kissed him once before holding on tightly to his neck and lowering her warm tight pussy onto his dick. She was not kidding. What followed next was the most amazing feeling Hemant has felt as his cock stretched her tight cavity. They took it slowly going inch by inch as not to hurt her.
"AHHhhhhh, that feels so damn good." She whispered.
Once she bottomed out she stopped moving; enjoying the feeling of fullness that she hadn't felt for quite a while. She slowly grinded her hips against him. Moving his dick around in her pussy. Trying to find a particular spot it seemed. Hemant kissed and sucked on her nipple forcing her to moan again and toss her hair all over the place. He grabbed her perfect ass and settled back for the ride as she began pumping up and down on him. Her warm pussy was making him feel so good as the walls of her cavern contracted all around his hard dick.
"AHHHH! Fuck!! I've missed this"
Mrunal groaned as she sped up the pace. Hemant moved his hands all over her smooth and killer body. Enjoying every last inch of her. Outside the stadium was loud as the game continued to rumble beneath them. He picked her up and lay her down on the couch all without ever pulling his dick out of her. Hemant grabbed her ass and lifted her lower body towards him and brought his dick down hard into her. This caused his dick to hit against her G spot on every stroke which drove Mrunal crazy. Hemant was amazed at her bouncing tits. They were so perfect and firm. He gripped her hips and pounded into her at a much faster clip. He moved his hand and began rubbing her clit.
"OHHH SHIT AHHHH, I'M CUMMING"
He kept on going at her throwing his full power and weight behind each thrust.
"AAHHHHHH!!!"
She screamed out and came all over him and the couch they had been fucking on.
"Oh god! I haven't cum that hard in so long!" She said whipping the hair out of her face.
"We're not even done yet"
Hemant picked her up and positioned her on all fours towards the big glass window. He reinserted his still hard cock into her pussy and smiled as she groaned sexily. Her ass was to be revered he thought as he banged the hell out of her from behind. It only took her a few strokes before she began timing herself to pump her ass back as he pushed his dick in. Hemant circled her body and grabbed both tits in his hands continuing to fuck her hard.
"AH HEMANT! AHHH!!! I'm cumming again!"
Hemant played with her clit again and that was enough to send her crashing to another orgasm.
"AHHHHHHH!!!! YEEESSSSS!!!!!"
She lay her head down on the ground and pushed her ass straight up into the air. He was fucking her still. But he wasn't going to last much longer!
"I'm so close!" Hemant told her.
"Just hang on. I have another one building."
She said to him through her moans and pants. Hemant held onto her hips for dear life in hopes of not blowing his load before she came. He used one hand on her hard clit again and the other played with one of her nipples and that's all it took to give her one more orgasm.
"AHHHHHH"
She screamed out before he groaned in something similar and started firing his canon cock and shooting her cunt with his seed. It could only be described as an explosion. The cum fired from his dick and practically assaulted her insides in velocity with his cream. Hemant fell back breathless. Mrunal turned around and lay on top of him kissing him. She was laughing so much.
"What's so funny?" He asked her.
"Nothing! I'm just so happy i just came three times!! You're amazing."
"You ain't so bad yourself Mrunal"
Breathless, sweating, they collapsed into each other, tangled on the couch. Her hair spilled across his chest as she traced lazy circles on his skin.
"So… any plans for tonight, Mr. Kumar?"
Mrunal whispered, her voice a mix of exhaustion and playfulness.His hand cradled her waist as he looked down at her.
"I have only one plan. And she’s in my arms right now"
She smiled, lips brushing against his collarbone, surrendering to the intoxicating simplicity of the moment. Around them, the stadium was still buzzing, but inside this suite, they existed in their own intoxicating silence.
SAME TIME AT THE APARTMENT
The evening air clung heavy on Sonarika’s skin as she stepped into the apartment she once called a sanctuary. Every shadow of the house felt like Hemant’s absence pressing against her.
"Mumma!"
Karan’s voice rang out as he ran toward her, his small arms wrapping around her waist. She froze for a second before bending down to kiss his hair, forcing a smile. Behind him, Anjali emerged from the kitchen, her teenage face glowing with affection.
"Didi, you’re home. Bhaiya isn’t back yet?"
Sonarika’s throat tightened. She smoothed Karan’s hair and said softly.
"No… Papa has some important business assignments tonight. He won’t be coming home"
Karan’s eyes widened, but instead of sadness, a spark of excitement lit his face.
"Its okay Mumma......Papa said he works hard so that he can spend time with us....he did the same last week and spend two days with me playing....he will be back in the morning"
Sonarika’s heart twisted. She pulled him close, nodding.
"Yes, he will"
Her words stung like a dagger carving her own chest. Because she knew he will return , only this time she will no longer have a role in his life. She has burned that bridge to cure her own suffering , indirectly , Dilawar won. His hauntings distanced her from him for good as she chose Vikram because only Vikram could cure her nightmares.
Anjali set the dinner plates on the table, her eyes shining.
"I’m so proud of Bhaiya, you know? Everyone at my coaching center is talking about YOD Industries. Our professors say his company is creating a new infrastructure for the future"
Karan chimed in, bouncing in his seat.
"Papa is a hero! Even my friends say he is Tony Stark in real life. They say my papa is smarter than Batman!!"
Sonarika sat with them, her smile brittle, her silence heavy. Each word of admiration for Hemant only deepened her guilt, dragging her further into the abyss of her betrayal. They ate together, laughter filling the room as Karan told stories from college and Anjali teased him about his clumsy handwriting. Sonarika played along, but her laughter was hollow, a ghost echoing in a home that once brimmed with love.
Her mind kept replaying Hemant’s faint smile at Vikram’s apartment, that haunting, quiet farewell etched into her soul. After dinner, Anjali washed the dishes, humming softly, while Karan dragged Sonarika to his room to show her a drawing he made—a family portrait, stick figures smiling, hand in hand.
"See, Mumma? That’s you, that’s Papa, that’s me, and that’s Anju Didi. We’re all together forever"
His innocent grin stabbed her deeper than any accusation could. She hugged him fiercely, her tears brushing against his hair as she whispered.
"Forever, yes"
But inside, she knew the portrait was a lie. She had made sure it is a lie after today. After she so recklessly walked to Vikram , opened her arms without a second thought. Sonarika cursed herself , questioning herself how , how can she get so vulnerable. When night finally settled, Karan drifted off to sleep beside her since Hemant isn't around. Anjali lay in the kids room, scrolling her phone, humming an old song. The apartment was quiet again.
Sonarika lay quietly on the bed, Karan’s soft breathing beside her filling the silence of the dimly lit room. She stroked his hair gently, as if holding on to a fragile thread of innocence that she feared would soon unravel. Her mind, however, was anything but calm. The day with Vikram had been tender, intoxicating, and in many ways comforting—yet Hemant’s sudden presence and the raw pain in his eyes when he saw those framed photos pierced her soul in a way she could not escape. For the first time, she understood the permanence of what she had done. Their marriage, that was holding on to a hope, had crumbled to a point where even her love for him couldn’t repair the ruin.
Her thoughts circled back to Hemant’s gaze, frozen on the images of her and Vikram smiling, laughing, appearing as if she had built another world without him. A lie—that was what those pictures screamed to him , his moments with her. Sonarika knew it wasn’t, not entirely. Her moments with Hemant had been real, her love genuine. But now, those memories stood buried under betrayal and distance. Even if she cried herself empty, she knew Hemant would never turn back. His demeanor today was louder than any argument they had ever shared, and it told her clearly: there would be no saving them.
Vikram’s voice echoed next, firm and persuasive: Your future is with me. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or if she merely clung to his certainty because she lacked her own. The divorce, once finalized, would mean uprooting her life. This home—these walls where Karan grew, where laughter and arguments once blended into family—would no longer be hers. The thought of moving into Vikram’s cramped flat unsettled her. It has always bothered her thinking how Vikram , a millionaire would live on a small apartment like that. Perhaps she would start afresh somewhere else, carve a new existence out of the ashes. Yet Vikram’s intentions were clear; he would one day push to make her his partner, his wife. That path felt both inevitable and suffocating at once.
Her heart ached most when her mind turned to Karan. She imagined the confusion in his young eyes when his world split into two halves—time with Papa, time with Mumma, no longer together but divided. The drawing he drew and shown her only deepened the wound she already has inside her. He deserved a whole family, not the fractured future her choices had forged. And then there was Anjali, still so young, looking up to her sister, perhaps one day resenting her for breaking what once held them all together. Sonarika cursed herself in the silence, torn between the comfort Vikram offered and the guilt that weighed her soul down. She did not know if her future held happiness or suffering—only that whichever it was, it would never again be whole
THE SAME TIME SOMEWHERE IN MUMBAI
The city was quiet when they pulled up at the Oberoi Trident hotel, the kind of quiet that made its glowing towers seem like sentinels watching over secrets. Hemant led Mrunal through the discreet side entrance of a luxury suite, his hand firm against the small of her back. The door shut behind them with a heavy click, sealing away the world. The suite was opulent—soft golden lighting, silk curtains, and a bed that looked more like an altar than a place to sleep.
The moment they crossed the threshold, their lips found each other again. Clothes came undone with a desperation that was equal parts hunger and defiance. Every kiss, every touch, carried the weight of unspoken emotions—hers tinged with curiosity and thrill, his with anger, loss, and a need to reclaim control. The sheets rustled beneath them as passion consumed the air, an almost violent storm in the stillness of the room.
At their height, as she arched against him, Mrunal gasped between breaths.
"I like this place you booked for tonight…"
Her voice was thick with pleasure, eyes half-closed. Hemant, moving with steady ferocity, answered hoarsely.
"I had planned this suite for someone else… but now it doesn’t matter"
His tone carried bitterness beneath the heat, a sharp confession in the middle of their union. Mrunal’s brows flickered with surprise, but her body didn’t resist. She sensed there was a ghost in the room—a woman who wasn’t her. She bit her lip, tightening her hold around him, silently demanding all of his attention. And Hemant gave her just that.
Before they knew , she was riding him , his cock clogged into her. His thickness and warmth fuelled the eroticism between them and the more her need to pleasure him and herself with his meat. Hemant's fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass as Mrunal set a very quick pace.
"AHHH!!! Fuck me!"
Hemant told Mrunal as her beautiful breast bounced hypnotically in front of his face.
"You're so fucken sexy! You look so good bouncing on my dick."
He told her as he grabbed her breasts in my hands once again.
"AHHH YES! I love your big dick in my pussy. It feels so fucken good AHHH FUCK!!!!"
Mrunal shouted as her hands were pressed against his chest for leverage. Hemant sat back along the headboard and lowered his mouth so he could suck on Mrunal's hard nipples as she fucked him for all she was worth. Hemant grabbed onto Mrunal's hips and rolled her around. She yelped sexily as he took control of their tryst. He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her mouth hard with as much heat as he could muster. Mrunal wrapped her legs around his waist and soon they were fucking harder than ever.
"AHHH! Fuck it!! Fuck my fucking pussy Hemant. Fuck it! Hemant! You are Amazing! WOW! AHH!"
Mrunal moaned before biting on his earlobe. Hemant groaned and sped up his hips. The sounds of their bodies crashing against one another quickly filled the entire hotel suite. His cock was absolutely rock hard as he pumped into her, thrusts shorter and harder now, slamming against her body as he chased his pleasure.
That is the moment Hemant's phone goes off. He noticed the name in the phone and the image that popup. The image of a woman that was once his life , his anchor. One of his favorite photos of Sonarika , which he took of her at Goa long ago during their first outing after marriage. Her smile radiant. And above the image the caller read SONA. His Sona , the woman that completed him. She was calling her , but Hemant knew it wasn't his Sona who is calling , but whoever that replaced her in her body. Someone who wrecked his heart so much it shut him down.
Now that face gave him a different fuel. It made him remember the photos he saw in the morning , the portraits of her with Vikram , smiling and staring. The kind of stare he never saw , now her heart , her eyes , her body , it reacts to another man. Not him. And at that moment a strange level of determination and strength enveloped him. Hemant's thrusts to Mrunal became more and more powerful , and Mrunal who was cruising to her orgasm was speedrolling to it.
Hemant started to thrust into Mrunal's pussy harder and faster. Mrunal's mouth opened wider, and her brow furrowed in something of a shock. She stared at his cock stretching her pussy out, and then as she watched the rough way her pussy was being handled, her expression shifted again. Her eyebrows raised from shock and disbelief into a surprised joy, and the O shape her mouth was in curled up on the sides to have her smiling with her mouth open.
Again Hemant's phone rang , the same name popped. And this triggered Hemant to push his gear further. Mrunal was taking it beautifully, although he was thrusting into her so hard Hemant knew he would soon lose control. The angle was perfect, she was soaked, and he was so hard he felt like he could lift her up with his cock. Hemant clenched himself tighter as he rammed his cock into her harder, causing Mrunal to gasp and then moan harder.
"AHH! HEMANT! You're a FUCKING LION!!! MY GOD!! YESS!!! DON'T STOP!!!! AHH!!!"
The phone rang again , and Hemant again saw the same name. He slammed his hips forward into Mrunal and watched her body shake as she took it. She looked up at him again, eyes wide with pleasure but in a way that was silently begging him not to stop. He didn't.
Hemant groaned again and reached forward, grabbing Mrunal's thick thighs and holding them back as he railed his cock into her as hard as he could. Mrunal screamed hard and tilted her head on the pillow. Her hands gripped the bed rest above her, and her stomach tightened. He couldn't tell if she was cumming or if the pounding was just that much for her.
"Shit Mrunal, I'm going to cum" Hemant warned her as he felt it churning in his balls.
"Oh yeah! Do it! Fill me again!!! Do it Hemant!!!!"
Mrunal shouted as Hemant grounded his hips against her adding pressure to her clit. She lowered her hand between them and rubbed her clit to help her crest towards another orgasm.
"mmmmmhhhh!! AHHHHHH"
Mrunal shouted as her body exploded in a powerful mind blowing orgasm.
"Hrrghh YES! FUCK! Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkk!"
Hemant groaned as the cum exploded from his cock to shoot and fill this lovely creature again. They held onto each other as their bodies shook with the greatest pleasure imaginable. Hemant ejaculated a powerful burst into her, the actress groaning deeply as she felt it, head buried into the pillows again as she just took it. Collapsed on top of her, he bit down into the skin of her shoulder as she growled, cock ejecting every last bit of his hot load inside her, spasming , shooting and jerking as it jetted into her, balls tight to squeeze every last drop out of his cock.
Collapsing completely on her, they both breathed hard, sweat covering them as they flopped now, exhausted and spent in the aftermath of what had become a very energetic fuck. Mrunal was weak now , as her body was slowly going into shutdown mode and so was Hemant. Its been a while since he has cummed like that. For Hemant , this night was not just a hook up , it was a turning point. A turning point that showed that he is no longer bound to Sonarika. This is an awakening , for Hemant Kumar. A New Chapter.
BACK AT THE APARTMENT
Sonarika laid on the bed with Karan in deep sleep beside her. She tried Hemant multiple times , but he didn't answer. Not once. She definitely expected it , especially after seeing him today at Vikram's place.She tried again, desperate, whispering his name into the silence as though he could hear her. Still, nothing. Hemant had shut her out completely. Defeated, she lay back against the pillows, Karan’s small hand resting on her arm. Her eyes drifted to the nearby desk where their wedding photos stood framed—frozen memories of vows, laughter, and the love that once burned so brightly. The photo of Hemant smiling holding her caught her eye. His smile in that moment was pure, unguarded, devoted. She reached out, her fingers brushing the frame as though touching him through time. Her tears blurred the image.
"I’m sorry"
She whispered into the darkness, though she knew he could no longer hear her, nor would he believe her even if he could. She curled into herself, Karan’s warmth beside her offering no comfort. His innocent breaths only reminded her of the family she was tearing apart. For years she had convinced herself there was still hope—patches to mend, bridges to rebuild. Tonight, those illusions had been stripped bare. Hemant’s stare was intense than any fire. His absence was colder than any rage. And as her eyelids grew heavy, she accepted the truth with a hollow heart: her marriage was wrecked beyond repair.
When she finally drifted into a restless sleep, the wedding photo seemed to stare back at her—a cruel reminder of the life she had shattered with her own hands.
(TO BE CONTD)
The cricket stadium was roaring with chants, horns, and commentary, but Mrunal Thakur felt like none of it mattered. She sat in the plush VIP gallery seat, dressed elegantly for cameras, yet the monotony of the game bored her. Her phone became her escape—scrolling through social media, answering texts, checking promotions for her film. Every few minutes, she glanced at the field out of obligation, sighing softly as though counting down until freedom.
Then, a ripple passed through the air of the VIP lounge. A familiar figure walked in, tall and commanding even in his casual t-shirt and fitted jeans. Hemant Kumar arrived at the venue. He carried himself not like a spectator, but like someone who owned whatever room he entered. When his gaze swept across the lounge and landed on her, a flicker of recognition sparked. Mrunal straightened slightly, brushing her hair aside, surprised yet intrigued.
They exchanged greetings warmly. The last time they had spoken was during a Manish Malhotra bridal photoshoot, which gave boost to Hemant’s fame in the city as a Business Magnate. The memory returned quickly—the sharp way his eyes followed her during that shoot, how he made the silences between poses feel electric. Now, in this chaotic stadium, that current was back. Their small talk began innocently. She asked about his life, his travels, the responsibilities of managing an industrial giant. When the conversation drifted, she let her guard down and teased.
"I heard you’ve been coaching Ananya Pandey at tennis. Should I be jealous?"
Her eyes gleamed with playful challenge. Hemant smirked, leaning back in his chair
"It was just a friendly gesture. Nothing worth your jealousy Mrunal"
Her voice lowered, almost conspiratorial.
"And what about the whispers that you and Pranitha Mehta are... close?"
Hemant’s reply was calm, unwavering:
"Don’t believe everything you hear. No one owns me, Mrunal"
There was something in his tone—an assertion of independence—that made her pulse quicken. As the match dragged on, Hemant noticed her distracted demeanor.
"You’re not into this game, are you?" he asked. She gave a small shrug.
"It’s not even my favorite team playing. I’m here because I have to be"
He studied her a moment longer, then leaned forward.
"What if we did something… fun instead?" His eyes lingered on hers, a suggestion laced in his smile.
Curiosity mixed with mischief inside her. She hesitated, then nodded, almost surprising herself with the ease of her agreement. Hemant stood, gestured casually, and guided her away from the crowded gallery. Security nodded them through as they ascended toward the quieter upper decks. She followed, her heartbeat growing restless. When the doors opened, she gasped. The suite was unlike anything she expected—vast, silent, luxurious. A private space shimmered beneath soft lights, a bar stood stocked with vintage bottles, and a pool table lay at the center. Beyond the glass, the match continued with muted noise, but here, it was an oasis of privacy.
"You booked this whole suite… for tonight?" she asked, half-amused, half-astonished.
Hemant’s reply was simple, almost daring.
"Just for few hours......I thought you’d prefer real entertainment"
His words hung in the air. Mrunal folded her arms, feigning resistance.
"And what exactly are we supposed to do here?" she pressed.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping:
"You already know the answer"
She bit her lip, still testing him.
"Aren’t you supposed to be Pranitha’s boy toy?"
His eyes darkened with certainty.
"No one controls Hemant Kumar" he said firmly.
The conviction in his tone silenced her doubts. Then, with one decisive step, he claimed her mouth with his. The kiss burned away her hesitation, filling the room with raw chemistry. What began as tentative escalated quickly. Their lips moved hungrily, their bodies pressed close, hands exploring the familiar yet forbidden. The jerseys they wore in playful solidarity with the teams became the first casualties, peeled off with laughter and impatience. Denims followed, leaving them vulnerable to the heat rising between them. The distant roar of the crowd seemed like background music to their private spectacle.
They moved to the pool table, a surface that became their stage. Her fingers gripped its edges as his kisses trailed down her neck, sending shivers through her spine.
Hemant lifted her up and placed her on the edge of the pool table. She spread her legs and he took off her small black panty. The smell of her desire clouded the room instantly letting him know that she had been sexually charged as much as he had. Mrunal sat on the edge of the table with her legs spread wide. Hemant dropped to his knees and brought his tongue to her wet pussy instantly. She tasted so good and so much pouring out of her that he was wishing he could bottle it up and save it for later.
"Ahhh fuck!"
Moaned Mrunal as Hemant circled his tongue around her clit. Her hands grabbed the back of his head and drove his head harder against her clit. He sucked the little nub in his mouth using his tongue to stimulate her as well.
"WOW!!!!."
Mrunal screamed as she started humping Hemant's face. He drove a finger into her soaping wet pussy and made her whimper even more. He used his tongue to lash her clit over and over again while his fingers pumped rhythmically in and out of her tight hole. Mrunal held on to his head tightly as she came hard on his tongue. Her juices pumped out of her and all around his mouth. Hemant sucked and licked greedily at all she had to offer.
He stood up and kissed her, letting her taste her own juices.
"You taste incredible." Hemant told her.
"I do. I see why you were down there like a starving man."
"I couldn't help myself"
He told her before she undid his boxers and pushed it to the ground. His dick was hard and pointing right at her.
"I want to help myself to some of this."
She said as she took off her bra and tossed it on a pile with her jeans and jersey. She grabbed his hand and led him to one of the couches. She pushed him down and straddled his hips. She kissed him once before holding on tightly to his neck and lowering her warm tight pussy onto his dick. She was not kidding. What followed next was the most amazing feeling Hemant has felt as his cock stretched her tight cavity. They took it slowly going inch by inch as not to hurt her.
"AHHhhhhh, that feels so damn good." She whispered.
Once she bottomed out she stopped moving; enjoying the feeling of fullness that she hadn't felt for quite a while. She slowly grinded her hips against him. Moving his dick around in her pussy. Trying to find a particular spot it seemed. Hemant kissed and sucked on her nipple forcing her to moan again and toss her hair all over the place. He grabbed her perfect ass and settled back for the ride as she began pumping up and down on him. Her warm pussy was making him feel so good as the walls of her cavern contracted all around his hard dick.
"AHHHH! Fuck!! I've missed this"
Mrunal groaned as she sped up the pace. Hemant moved his hands all over her smooth and killer body. Enjoying every last inch of her. Outside the stadium was loud as the game continued to rumble beneath them. He picked her up and lay her down on the couch all without ever pulling his dick out of her. Hemant grabbed her ass and lifted her lower body towards him and brought his dick down hard into her. This caused his dick to hit against her G spot on every stroke which drove Mrunal crazy. Hemant was amazed at her bouncing tits. They were so perfect and firm. He gripped her hips and pounded into her at a much faster clip. He moved his hand and began rubbing her clit.
"OHHH SHIT AHHHH, I'M CUMMING"
He kept on going at her throwing his full power and weight behind each thrust.
"AAHHHHHH!!!"
She screamed out and came all over him and the couch they had been fucking on.
"Oh god! I haven't cum that hard in so long!" She said whipping the hair out of her face.
"We're not even done yet"
Hemant picked her up and positioned her on all fours towards the big glass window. He reinserted his still hard cock into her pussy and smiled as she groaned sexily. Her ass was to be revered he thought as he banged the hell out of her from behind. It only took her a few strokes before she began timing herself to pump her ass back as he pushed his dick in. Hemant circled her body and grabbed both tits in his hands continuing to fuck her hard.
"AH HEMANT! AHHH!!! I'm cumming again!"
Hemant played with her clit again and that was enough to send her crashing to another orgasm.
"AHHHHHHH!!!! YEEESSSSS!!!!!"
She lay her head down on the ground and pushed her ass straight up into the air. He was fucking her still. But he wasn't going to last much longer!
"I'm so close!" Hemant told her.
"Just hang on. I have another one building."
She said to him through her moans and pants. Hemant held onto her hips for dear life in hopes of not blowing his load before she came. He used one hand on her hard clit again and the other played with one of her nipples and that's all it took to give her one more orgasm.
"AHHHHHH"
She screamed out before he groaned in something similar and started firing his canon cock and shooting her cunt with his seed. It could only be described as an explosion. The cum fired from his dick and practically assaulted her insides in velocity with his cream. Hemant fell back breathless. Mrunal turned around and lay on top of him kissing him. She was laughing so much.
"What's so funny?" He asked her.
"Nothing! I'm just so happy i just came three times!! You're amazing."
"You ain't so bad yourself Mrunal"
Breathless, sweating, they collapsed into each other, tangled on the couch. Her hair spilled across his chest as she traced lazy circles on his skin.
"So… any plans for tonight, Mr. Kumar?"
Mrunal whispered, her voice a mix of exhaustion and playfulness.His hand cradled her waist as he looked down at her.
"I have only one plan. And she’s in my arms right now"
She smiled, lips brushing against his collarbone, surrendering to the intoxicating simplicity of the moment. Around them, the stadium was still buzzing, but inside this suite, they existed in their own intoxicating silence.
SAME TIME AT THE APARTMENT
The evening air clung heavy on Sonarika’s skin as she stepped into the apartment she once called a sanctuary. Every shadow of the house felt like Hemant’s absence pressing against her.
"Mumma!"
Karan’s voice rang out as he ran toward her, his small arms wrapping around her waist. She froze for a second before bending down to kiss his hair, forcing a smile. Behind him, Anjali emerged from the kitchen, her teenage face glowing with affection.
"Didi, you’re home. Bhaiya isn’t back yet?"
Sonarika’s throat tightened. She smoothed Karan’s hair and said softly.
"No… Papa has some important business assignments tonight. He won’t be coming home"
Karan’s eyes widened, but instead of sadness, a spark of excitement lit his face.
"Its okay Mumma......Papa said he works hard so that he can spend time with us....he did the same last week and spend two days with me playing....he will be back in the morning"
Sonarika’s heart twisted. She pulled him close, nodding.
"Yes, he will"
Her words stung like a dagger carving her own chest. Because she knew he will return , only this time she will no longer have a role in his life. She has burned that bridge to cure her own suffering , indirectly , Dilawar won. His hauntings distanced her from him for good as she chose Vikram because only Vikram could cure her nightmares.
Anjali set the dinner plates on the table, her eyes shining.
"I’m so proud of Bhaiya, you know? Everyone at my coaching center is talking about YOD Industries. Our professors say his company is creating a new infrastructure for the future"
Karan chimed in, bouncing in his seat.
"Papa is a hero! Even my friends say he is Tony Stark in real life. They say my papa is smarter than Batman!!"
Sonarika sat with them, her smile brittle, her silence heavy. Each word of admiration for Hemant only deepened her guilt, dragging her further into the abyss of her betrayal. They ate together, laughter filling the room as Karan told stories from college and Anjali teased him about his clumsy handwriting. Sonarika played along, but her laughter was hollow, a ghost echoing in a home that once brimmed with love.
Her mind kept replaying Hemant’s faint smile at Vikram’s apartment, that haunting, quiet farewell etched into her soul. After dinner, Anjali washed the dishes, humming softly, while Karan dragged Sonarika to his room to show her a drawing he made—a family portrait, stick figures smiling, hand in hand.
"See, Mumma? That’s you, that’s Papa, that’s me, and that’s Anju Didi. We’re all together forever"
His innocent grin stabbed her deeper than any accusation could. She hugged him fiercely, her tears brushing against his hair as she whispered.
"Forever, yes"
But inside, she knew the portrait was a lie. She had made sure it is a lie after today. After she so recklessly walked to Vikram , opened her arms without a second thought. Sonarika cursed herself , questioning herself how , how can she get so vulnerable. When night finally settled, Karan drifted off to sleep beside her since Hemant isn't around. Anjali lay in the kids room, scrolling her phone, humming an old song. The apartment was quiet again.
Sonarika lay quietly on the bed, Karan’s soft breathing beside her filling the silence of the dimly lit room. She stroked his hair gently, as if holding on to a fragile thread of innocence that she feared would soon unravel. Her mind, however, was anything but calm. The day with Vikram had been tender, intoxicating, and in many ways comforting—yet Hemant’s sudden presence and the raw pain in his eyes when he saw those framed photos pierced her soul in a way she could not escape. For the first time, she understood the permanence of what she had done. Their marriage, that was holding on to a hope, had crumbled to a point where even her love for him couldn’t repair the ruin.
Her thoughts circled back to Hemant’s gaze, frozen on the images of her and Vikram smiling, laughing, appearing as if she had built another world without him. A lie—that was what those pictures screamed to him , his moments with her. Sonarika knew it wasn’t, not entirely. Her moments with Hemant had been real, her love genuine. But now, those memories stood buried under betrayal and distance. Even if she cried herself empty, she knew Hemant would never turn back. His demeanor today was louder than any argument they had ever shared, and it told her clearly: there would be no saving them.
Vikram’s voice echoed next, firm and persuasive: Your future is with me. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or if she merely clung to his certainty because she lacked her own. The divorce, once finalized, would mean uprooting her life. This home—these walls where Karan grew, where laughter and arguments once blended into family—would no longer be hers. The thought of moving into Vikram’s cramped flat unsettled her. It has always bothered her thinking how Vikram , a millionaire would live on a small apartment like that. Perhaps she would start afresh somewhere else, carve a new existence out of the ashes. Yet Vikram’s intentions were clear; he would one day push to make her his partner, his wife. That path felt both inevitable and suffocating at once.
Her heart ached most when her mind turned to Karan. She imagined the confusion in his young eyes when his world split into two halves—time with Papa, time with Mumma, no longer together but divided. The drawing he drew and shown her only deepened the wound she already has inside her. He deserved a whole family, not the fractured future her choices had forged. And then there was Anjali, still so young, looking up to her sister, perhaps one day resenting her for breaking what once held them all together. Sonarika cursed herself in the silence, torn between the comfort Vikram offered and the guilt that weighed her soul down. She did not know if her future held happiness or suffering—only that whichever it was, it would never again be whole
THE SAME TIME SOMEWHERE IN MUMBAI
The city was quiet when they pulled up at the Oberoi Trident hotel, the kind of quiet that made its glowing towers seem like sentinels watching over secrets. Hemant led Mrunal through the discreet side entrance of a luxury suite, his hand firm against the small of her back. The door shut behind them with a heavy click, sealing away the world. The suite was opulent—soft golden lighting, silk curtains, and a bed that looked more like an altar than a place to sleep.
The moment they crossed the threshold, their lips found each other again. Clothes came undone with a desperation that was equal parts hunger and defiance. Every kiss, every touch, carried the weight of unspoken emotions—hers tinged with curiosity and thrill, his with anger, loss, and a need to reclaim control. The sheets rustled beneath them as passion consumed the air, an almost violent storm in the stillness of the room.
At their height, as she arched against him, Mrunal gasped between breaths.
"I like this place you booked for tonight…"
Her voice was thick with pleasure, eyes half-closed. Hemant, moving with steady ferocity, answered hoarsely.
"I had planned this suite for someone else… but now it doesn’t matter"
His tone carried bitterness beneath the heat, a sharp confession in the middle of their union. Mrunal’s brows flickered with surprise, but her body didn’t resist. She sensed there was a ghost in the room—a woman who wasn’t her. She bit her lip, tightening her hold around him, silently demanding all of his attention. And Hemant gave her just that.
Before they knew , she was riding him , his cock clogged into her. His thickness and warmth fuelled the eroticism between them and the more her need to pleasure him and herself with his meat. Hemant's fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass as Mrunal set a very quick pace.
"AHHH!!! Fuck me!"
Hemant told Mrunal as her beautiful breast bounced hypnotically in front of his face.
"You're so fucken sexy! You look so good bouncing on my dick."
He told her as he grabbed her breasts in my hands once again.
"AHHH YES! I love your big dick in my pussy. It feels so fucken good AHHH FUCK!!!!"
Mrunal shouted as her hands were pressed against his chest for leverage. Hemant sat back along the headboard and lowered his mouth so he could suck on Mrunal's hard nipples as she fucked him for all she was worth. Hemant grabbed onto Mrunal's hips and rolled her around. She yelped sexily as he took control of their tryst. He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her mouth hard with as much heat as he could muster. Mrunal wrapped her legs around his waist and soon they were fucking harder than ever.
"AHHH! Fuck it!! Fuck my fucking pussy Hemant. Fuck it! Hemant! You are Amazing! WOW! AHH!"
Mrunal moaned before biting on his earlobe. Hemant groaned and sped up his hips. The sounds of their bodies crashing against one another quickly filled the entire hotel suite. His cock was absolutely rock hard as he pumped into her, thrusts shorter and harder now, slamming against her body as he chased his pleasure.
That is the moment Hemant's phone goes off. He noticed the name in the phone and the image that popup. The image of a woman that was once his life , his anchor. One of his favorite photos of Sonarika , which he took of her at Goa long ago during their first outing after marriage. Her smile radiant. And above the image the caller read SONA. His Sona , the woman that completed him. She was calling her , but Hemant knew it wasn't his Sona who is calling , but whoever that replaced her in her body. Someone who wrecked his heart so much it shut him down.
Now that face gave him a different fuel. It made him remember the photos he saw in the morning , the portraits of her with Vikram , smiling and staring. The kind of stare he never saw , now her heart , her eyes , her body , it reacts to another man. Not him. And at that moment a strange level of determination and strength enveloped him. Hemant's thrusts to Mrunal became more and more powerful , and Mrunal who was cruising to her orgasm was speedrolling to it.
Hemant started to thrust into Mrunal's pussy harder and faster. Mrunal's mouth opened wider, and her brow furrowed in something of a shock. She stared at his cock stretching her pussy out, and then as she watched the rough way her pussy was being handled, her expression shifted again. Her eyebrows raised from shock and disbelief into a surprised joy, and the O shape her mouth was in curled up on the sides to have her smiling with her mouth open.
Again Hemant's phone rang , the same name popped. And this triggered Hemant to push his gear further. Mrunal was taking it beautifully, although he was thrusting into her so hard Hemant knew he would soon lose control. The angle was perfect, she was soaked, and he was so hard he felt like he could lift her up with his cock. Hemant clenched himself tighter as he rammed his cock into her harder, causing Mrunal to gasp and then moan harder.
"AHH! HEMANT! You're a FUCKING LION!!! MY GOD!! YESS!!! DON'T STOP!!!! AHH!!!"
The phone rang again , and Hemant again saw the same name. He slammed his hips forward into Mrunal and watched her body shake as she took it. She looked up at him again, eyes wide with pleasure but in a way that was silently begging him not to stop. He didn't.
Hemant groaned again and reached forward, grabbing Mrunal's thick thighs and holding them back as he railed his cock into her as hard as he could. Mrunal screamed hard and tilted her head on the pillow. Her hands gripped the bed rest above her, and her stomach tightened. He couldn't tell if she was cumming or if the pounding was just that much for her.
"Shit Mrunal, I'm going to cum" Hemant warned her as he felt it churning in his balls.
"Oh yeah! Do it! Fill me again!!! Do it Hemant!!!!"
Mrunal shouted as Hemant grounded his hips against her adding pressure to her clit. She lowered her hand between them and rubbed her clit to help her crest towards another orgasm.
"mmmmmhhhh!! AHHHHHH"
Mrunal shouted as her body exploded in a powerful mind blowing orgasm.
"Hrrghh YES! FUCK! Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkk!"
Hemant groaned as the cum exploded from his cock to shoot and fill this lovely creature again. They held onto each other as their bodies shook with the greatest pleasure imaginable. Hemant ejaculated a powerful burst into her, the actress groaning deeply as she felt it, head buried into the pillows again as she just took it. Collapsed on top of her, he bit down into the skin of her shoulder as she growled, cock ejecting every last bit of his hot load inside her, spasming , shooting and jerking as it jetted into her, balls tight to squeeze every last drop out of his cock.
Collapsing completely on her, they both breathed hard, sweat covering them as they flopped now, exhausted and spent in the aftermath of what had become a very energetic fuck. Mrunal was weak now , as her body was slowly going into shutdown mode and so was Hemant. Its been a while since he has cummed like that. For Hemant , this night was not just a hook up , it was a turning point. A turning point that showed that he is no longer bound to Sonarika. This is an awakening , for Hemant Kumar. A New Chapter.
BACK AT THE APARTMENT
Sonarika laid on the bed with Karan in deep sleep beside her. She tried Hemant multiple times , but he didn't answer. Not once. She definitely expected it , especially after seeing him today at Vikram's place.She tried again, desperate, whispering his name into the silence as though he could hear her. Still, nothing. Hemant had shut her out completely. Defeated, she lay back against the pillows, Karan’s small hand resting on her arm. Her eyes drifted to the nearby desk where their wedding photos stood framed—frozen memories of vows, laughter, and the love that once burned so brightly. The photo of Hemant smiling holding her caught her eye. His smile in that moment was pure, unguarded, devoted. She reached out, her fingers brushing the frame as though touching him through time. Her tears blurred the image.
"I’m sorry"
She whispered into the darkness, though she knew he could no longer hear her, nor would he believe her even if he could. She curled into herself, Karan’s warmth beside her offering no comfort. His innocent breaths only reminded her of the family she was tearing apart. For years she had convinced herself there was still hope—patches to mend, bridges to rebuild. Tonight, those illusions had been stripped bare. Hemant’s stare was intense than any fire. His absence was colder than any rage. And as her eyelids grew heavy, she accepted the truth with a hollow heart: her marriage was wrecked beyond repair.
When she finally drifted into a restless sleep, the wedding photo seemed to stare back at her—a cruel reminder of the life she had shattered with her own hands.
(TO BE CONTD)
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