Misc. Erotica Vikram's Porn Addiction comes true

[Mohit.Kumar]

The reply is almost instant. "Vatika Real Estate. She's been working there for a few years now"

Vikram's mind is racing. He's never been to Vatika Realty, but he knows where it is—right in the heart of the city's commercial district. His thoughts swirl with a mix of excitement and dread. What would he say to her? What would she think of him? Would she recognize him from the porn video? The questions swarm around him like a cloud of bees, stinging his conscience with every buzz.

He decides to visit Vatika Realty under the guise of a potential buyer. Dressed in his most expensive suit, he strides into the gleaming lobby with a fake smile plastered on his face. The receptionist is a young girl, her eyes flicking up to meet his briefly before returning to her screen. "Can I help you?" she asks, her voice as cold as the marble floor beneath him.

"I'm here to see Chaitali Ghosh," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've heard she's quite the... expert." The double entendre is lost on the girl, who nods and picks up the phone to announce his arrival.

As he waits, the lobby seems to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. Each second stretches into an eternity, the ticking of the clock a metronome keeping time with his racing pulse. His mind is a whirlwind of what-ifs and maybes, his palms sticky with sweat. When the receptionist finally nods and points him towards the elevator, he feels as if he's about to step into a lion's den.

The ride up is a blur, the mirrored walls of the elevator reflecting his tense posture and the hunger in his eyes. He rehearses his lines, the lie of his visit coating his tongue like a bitter medicine. When the doors slide open, he steps out into a corridor lined with glass offices, the hum of business conversations a stark contrast to the symphony of lust that had played out in his mind for days.

Vikram's heart thunders in his chest as he approaches the office with her nameplate. "Chaitali Ghosh, CRM." The letters seem to pulse with the beat of his heart. He takes a deep breath, adjusts his tie, and knocks. The door opens, and there she is—his Chaitali, dressed in a sharp pantsuit that hugs her curves like a lover's embrace. Her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he wonders if she recognizes him, if she knows what he's been doing in the solitude of his room with her image burned into his mind.

"Mr. Mehta," she says, her voice a velvet purr that sends a shiver down his spine. "What a surprise. Please, come in."

Vikram steps into the office, his eyes drinking in every detail. Chaitali's hair is pulled back into a sleek bun, showcasing the elegance of her neck and the delicate line of her jaw. She's gained some weight from his college days, but it's only made her more alluring, more refined. Her eyes, however, are the same—almond-shaped and sparkling with a mischief that he'd recognize anywhere.

"What brings you to Vatika Realty?" she asks, gesturing to the seat opposite her desk. He tries to ignore the way his cock stirs at the sight of her, remembering the way her body had moved in the porn video. The smell of her perfume fills the air, a scent that's both professional and faintly floral—like a garden after rain.

He clears his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "I'm looking to invest in some property," he says, his voice a little too high. "And I've heard you're the best in the business." It's a lie, of course, but one he hopes she'll believe.

Chaitali's smile widens, and she leans back in her chair, crossing her legs. The fabric of her pants tightens over her thighs, revealing their firmness and the hint of lace panties beneath. "Well, I'll do my best to help you," she says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "What exactly are you looking for?"

Vikram fumbles with his briefcase, his thoughts racing. He tries to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keeps drifting to the explicit images of her from the video. He clears his throat and pulls out a few brochures. "I've been looking for a penthouse, something modern and spacious," he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

Chaitali's smile remains, but there's a glint in her eyes that wasn't there before, a spark of curiosity that lights up her entire face. She stands up, her body moving with a grace that belies the fiery passion he'd witnessed on his screen. She walks over to a bookshelf filled with property listings and pulls out a few glossy pamphlets. "Ah, I think I have just the thing," she says, her voice dripping with the sweetness of honey.

As she crosses the room to hand them over, the sway of her hips is mesmerizing, a silent seduction that seems to echo the rhythm of their past encounter. He tries to keep his gaze on her face, but it's drawn to her chest, the fabric of her blouse stretching over her full breasts with every step. His cock responds to the memory, thickening in his pants.

Her hand brushes against his as she passes the brochures, and the electricity of that touch sends a jolt through him. The room feels charged with the energy of a storm about to break. He tries to focus on the glossy pages filled with images of luxurious homes, but his eyes keep straying back to her, to the way her blouse clings to her curves, to the soft pink of her lips that he remembers being stretched around a cock.

As she explains the features of the penthouse, he can't help but imagine her in one of those spacious living rooms, her clothes strewn across the floor as she's taken from behind, her moans echoing off the high ceilings. Her voice now a professional drone of square footage and amenities, sends a thrill through him. The juxtaposition of her two lives, the one he'd just witnessed and the one she lived now, is intoxicating.

He tries to keep his breathing even as she leans over the desk, her breasts threatening to spill out of her blouse. The scent of her perfume, now mixed with the faint musk of her arousal, is driving him wild. He can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, begging for release.

Her eyes flicker to his crotch, and for a split second, she pauses. The room seems to hold its breath, the tension palpable. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Mehta?" she asks, her voice a seductive whisper that sends a shiver down his spine.