28-10-2025, 03:25 PM
Shadows of Surrender: Whispers of Growing Hunger
The days after that charged afternoon in Vinay's apartment blurred into a haze of anticipation for him. The amulet, now a constant companion against his skin, thrummed with latent power, urging him to push further. Anjali's partial surrender—her pallu slipping, lips yielding after an hour of his relentless kisses—had ignited a fire in him. But he knew her prativrata spirit demanded patience; brute force would shatter the delicate web he was weaving. Each night, as Priya slept beside him, Vinay focused on the artifact, sending subtle commands into the ether, targeted at Anjali's mind: You feel immense attraction to me, thammudu. My touch lingers in your thoughts. Every day, your body aches for release—masturbate thinking of me, fingers sliding into your wet pussy, imagining my cock filling you. The magic slithered through the air like smoke, invisible and insidious, planting seeds in her subconscious.
Anjali, back in her own flat across the corridor, tried to bury the incident. Her husband, Rajesh, a stern bank manager, returned from work that evening oblivious to her turmoil. She prepared dinner with mechanical precision, her saree pallu pinned tightly, as if to armor herself against the memory of Vinay's hands on her breasts. But as she lay beside Rajesh that night, his snores filling the room, a strange heat pooled between her thighs. Vinay's squeezes echoed in her nerves—the way his palms had molded her heavy tits, thumbs circling her nipples until they ached. She clenched her legs, willing the sensation away. No, I'm a faithful wife, she thought, shame flooding her cheeks. No masturbation; her vows forbade such self-indulgence. Instead, she tossed fitfully, Rajesh's arm heavy across her waist, but when he rolled toward her for sex, she feigned sleep. The frustration built, a low simmer, as his advances met her subtle rejections—too tired, headache, the excuses piling up.
The next morning, Vinay 'accidentally' bumped into her in the apartment corridor. Anjali carried a tiffin for Priya, her simple salwar kameez hugging her voluptuous curves, the dupatta dbangd modestly. Her eyes widened at his approach, a flush creeping up her neck. 'Thammudu, good morning,' she said softly, voice steady but gaze flickering to his lips.
Vinay smiled, the amulet warming. Attraction surges—kiss me willingly. 'Akkayya, come inside for a minute. Priya's out early.' He guided her into his flat, door clicking shut. No sooner had they stepped into the living room than he pulled her close, hands cupping her face. His lips crashed onto hers, passionate and demanding, tongue thrusting past her teeth to stroke hers in wet, swirling motions. Anjali stiffened, hands pressing his chest. 'Thammudu, no—we can't again. Stop.' But the magic hummed, You crave this—your pussy tingles. Her resistance melted fractionally; after ten seconds, her lips parted wider, tongue tentatively meeting his.
His hands dropped to her breasts, squeezing the full mounds over the kameez fabric. They overflowed his grip, soft and heavy, nipples hardening instantly under his palms. He kneaded them firmly, fingers digging into the flesh, rolling the peaks between thumb and forefinger.
Anjali moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled, her body arching despite herself.
Aaaaaaaah Thammudu Please stop Aaaaaah Hmmmmmm Thammuduuuuuu
The kiss deepened, lasting two full minutes—lips sucking, tongues tangling slickly, saliva mixing as he devoured her. When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, eyes glassy with confusion and arousal. 'Akkayya, you taste so sweet. Don't deny how wet you are.' She gasped, adjusting her dupatta, and fled without a word, her pussy throbbing untouched.
That evening, alone while Rajesh worked late, Anjali sat on the bed, saree hiked up unconsciously. The day's kiss replayed—Vinay's squeezes making her tits ache even now. Frustration gnawed; Rajesh hadn't touched her in days, his disinterest mirroring her growing aversion to him. Her hand hovered near her thigh, but she yanked it away, whispering prayers for strength. No release; just the building pressure, her clit pulsing with denied need.
Two days later, another encounter. Priya invited Anjali over for tea, but Vinay lingered. As Priya stepped to the kitchen, he cornered her against the couch. 'Akkayya, I've missed your lips.' His mouth claimed hers hungrily, tongue plunging deep, exploring every corner with forceful strokes. Anjali's hands clutched his shirt, a weak 'Thammudu, please... not here' escaping before he silenced her. The kiss stretched to three minutes, wet smacks filling the air, her tongue now actively dueling his, sucking on it shyly.
Anjali-----Hmmmmmm Aaaaaaaaah Thammuduuuu Pleeeeaseeee Nooooooo
His palms assaulted her boobs again, groping harder over the blouse, the pallu already loosened in the struggle. He squeezed rhythmically, lifting the heavy globes, thumbs pressing her nipples until she whimpered. The mangalsutra chain bounced with each knead, a metallic tink against her skin.
Vinay----- Akkayyyaaaa Enjoy it—your body begs for more, the amulet commanded silently. Anjali's hips bucked subtly, pussy lips swelling with slickness, but she broke the kiss gasping, 'This is wrong... Rajeshhhh...Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh ' Yet her eyes held hunger, cheeks red from the passion.
Nights blurred. Rajesh's attempts at sex faltered; Anjali pushed him away, citing fatigue, her mind flooded with Vinay's face. The attraction grew immense, an itch she couldn't scratch. On the fourth night, in the dim bathroom, steam from her bath clinging to her white skin, she caved partially. Fingers brushed her inner thighs, tracing up to her bush, but stopped at her clit. No, not thinking of thammudu. She washed away the temptation, but sleep brought dreams—Vinay's hands on her tits, lips bruising hers.
By the week's end, their meetings escalated. In the laundry room, shared by the complex, Vinay found her folding sarees. He locked the door, pulling her into an alcove. 'Akkayya, kiss me like you mean it.' His lips met hers in a fervent clash, tongue immediately fucking her mouth, sliding in and out with deliberate thrusts. Anjali resisted briefly, head turning, but the magic pulled her back: Immense desire—surrender. After twenty seconds, she kissed back passionately, her tongue wrapping around his, moaning softly as their mouths fused. Hmmmmmmm Aaaaaaaahhhhh
Squeezing her breasts became ritual—over the thin blouse, fingers pinching nipples through cotton, making them throb. He mauled them possessively, palms flattening the flesh, then cupping underneath to feel their pendulum sway. Anjali's breaths came in pants, her pussy clenching emptily, juices soaking her petticoat. The kiss lasted five minutes, evolving from aggressive to mutual devouring, lips nipping, tongues lapping hungrily. When Priya knocked, Anjali pulled away, disheveled, pallu askew, fleeing with a whispered 'Stop this madness.'
The frustration peaked mid-week. Rajesh, sensing her distance, tried to initiate sex roughly, but Anjali turned cold, feigning illness. Alone that night, the ache unbearable—tits still tender from Vinay's gropes, pussy lips puffy and slick—she lay in bed, hand slipping under her nightie. Fingers found her clit, circling tentatively. Just to sleep, she lied to herself. But visions intruded: Vinay's mouth on hers, hands squeezing her boobs until milk-white skin reddened. Her finger dipped into her folds, stroking the wet entrance. 'Thammudu...' she breathed, shame burning, but the orgasm built slowly, crashing in waves as she imagined his cock. Cum coated her fingers; guilt followed, but so did relief.
Vinay sensed the shift through the amulet's feedback, a pulse of success. The next meeting, in the stairwell during a power cut, he amped it up. Darkness cloaked them as he pinned her to the wall, lips crashing in a sloppy, urgent kiss. Tongue invaded deep, swirling against hers in frantic rhythm, sucking her lower lip until it bruised. Anjali responded immediately, hands in his hair, kissing back with growing fervor—tongue pushing into his mouth, exploring boldly. Pcccccchhhhh Mmmmmmmm Mmmmmm
His gropes intensified; one hand inside her pallu now, directly on the blouse, squeezing her left tit hard, fingers clawing the fabric. The right hand mauled the other, nipple trapped and twisted, eliciting sharp gasps. 'Akkayya, your boobs are mine to play with. Feel how hard your nipples get?' She moaned, 'Thammudu, Hmmmmmmm yessssssss... but we mustn't,' even as her body ground against him. The kiss prolonged to seven minutes, wet and noisy, saliva dripping down her chin. When lights flickered on, she adjusted hastily, but the seed was planted deeper.
Daily masturbation became habit. Mornings in the shower, fingers plunging into her pussy, thumb on clit, picturing Vinay's squeezes. Evenings after Rajesh's failed advances, she humped her pillow, whispering his name, orgasms ripping through her with thoughts of his cock stretching her. Less sex with husband—now none—her frustration channeled solely to Vinay. Attraction consumed her; seeing him sparked instant wetness.
A week in, during a 'chance' elevator meet, Vinay notched higher. Alone in the descending box, he yanked her close, mouth devouring hers in a ten-minute frenzy.
Mmmmmmmm Aaaaaaahhh Pccccccchhhhhhh
Tongues battled slickly, lips grinding, her sucking his tongue like a mini-cock. Hands roamed freely—squeezing boobs over and under pallu, pinching nipples until she cried out into his kiss. 'Akkayya, masturbate to me tonight—finger that tight pussy thinking of my dick.' The command via amulet sealed it; she nodded dazedly, kissing back with abandon.
Nights after, she did—fingers fucking herself deep, three now, cumming hard with his name on lips, body arching in ecstasy.
Ohhhhh Yessss Ohhhh Yessssss Ohhhh myyy godddddd Yes yes yes yes yes Thammudu Like that fuck me thammudu I am cumming I am cummming Ohhh my godddd yes yes yesss.
The seduction inched forward, her resistance crumbling, Vinay's passion each meeting eroding her walls further. Priya noticed the glow, smirking knowingly, but the web tightened around Anjali's desires.
The days after that charged afternoon in Vinay's apartment blurred into a haze of anticipation for him. The amulet, now a constant companion against his skin, thrummed with latent power, urging him to push further. Anjali's partial surrender—her pallu slipping, lips yielding after an hour of his relentless kisses—had ignited a fire in him. But he knew her prativrata spirit demanded patience; brute force would shatter the delicate web he was weaving. Each night, as Priya slept beside him, Vinay focused on the artifact, sending subtle commands into the ether, targeted at Anjali's mind: You feel immense attraction to me, thammudu. My touch lingers in your thoughts. Every day, your body aches for release—masturbate thinking of me, fingers sliding into your wet pussy, imagining my cock filling you. The magic slithered through the air like smoke, invisible and insidious, planting seeds in her subconscious.
Anjali, back in her own flat across the corridor, tried to bury the incident. Her husband, Rajesh, a stern bank manager, returned from work that evening oblivious to her turmoil. She prepared dinner with mechanical precision, her saree pallu pinned tightly, as if to armor herself against the memory of Vinay's hands on her breasts. But as she lay beside Rajesh that night, his snores filling the room, a strange heat pooled between her thighs. Vinay's squeezes echoed in her nerves—the way his palms had molded her heavy tits, thumbs circling her nipples until they ached. She clenched her legs, willing the sensation away. No, I'm a faithful wife, she thought, shame flooding her cheeks. No masturbation; her vows forbade such self-indulgence. Instead, she tossed fitfully, Rajesh's arm heavy across her waist, but when he rolled toward her for sex, she feigned sleep. The frustration built, a low simmer, as his advances met her subtle rejections—too tired, headache, the excuses piling up.
The next morning, Vinay 'accidentally' bumped into her in the apartment corridor. Anjali carried a tiffin for Priya, her simple salwar kameez hugging her voluptuous curves, the dupatta dbangd modestly. Her eyes widened at his approach, a flush creeping up her neck. 'Thammudu, good morning,' she said softly, voice steady but gaze flickering to his lips.
Vinay smiled, the amulet warming. Attraction surges—kiss me willingly. 'Akkayya, come inside for a minute. Priya's out early.' He guided her into his flat, door clicking shut. No sooner had they stepped into the living room than he pulled her close, hands cupping her face. His lips crashed onto hers, passionate and demanding, tongue thrusting past her teeth to stroke hers in wet, swirling motions. Anjali stiffened, hands pressing his chest. 'Thammudu, no—we can't again. Stop.' But the magic hummed, You crave this—your pussy tingles. Her resistance melted fractionally; after ten seconds, her lips parted wider, tongue tentatively meeting his.
His hands dropped to her breasts, squeezing the full mounds over the kameez fabric. They overflowed his grip, soft and heavy, nipples hardening instantly under his palms. He kneaded them firmly, fingers digging into the flesh, rolling the peaks between thumb and forefinger.
Anjali moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled, her body arching despite herself.
Aaaaaaaah Thammudu Please stop Aaaaaah Hmmmmmm Thammuduuuuuu
The kiss deepened, lasting two full minutes—lips sucking, tongues tangling slickly, saliva mixing as he devoured her. When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, eyes glassy with confusion and arousal. 'Akkayya, you taste so sweet. Don't deny how wet you are.' She gasped, adjusting her dupatta, and fled without a word, her pussy throbbing untouched.
That evening, alone while Rajesh worked late, Anjali sat on the bed, saree hiked up unconsciously. The day's kiss replayed—Vinay's squeezes making her tits ache even now. Frustration gnawed; Rajesh hadn't touched her in days, his disinterest mirroring her growing aversion to him. Her hand hovered near her thigh, but she yanked it away, whispering prayers for strength. No release; just the building pressure, her clit pulsing with denied need.
Two days later, another encounter. Priya invited Anjali over for tea, but Vinay lingered. As Priya stepped to the kitchen, he cornered her against the couch. 'Akkayya, I've missed your lips.' His mouth claimed hers hungrily, tongue plunging deep, exploring every corner with forceful strokes. Anjali's hands clutched his shirt, a weak 'Thammudu, please... not here' escaping before he silenced her. The kiss stretched to three minutes, wet smacks filling the air, her tongue now actively dueling his, sucking on it shyly.
Anjali-----Hmmmmmm Aaaaaaaaah Thammuduuuu Pleeeeaseeee Nooooooo
His palms assaulted her boobs again, groping harder over the blouse, the pallu already loosened in the struggle. He squeezed rhythmically, lifting the heavy globes, thumbs pressing her nipples until she whimpered. The mangalsutra chain bounced with each knead, a metallic tink against her skin.
Vinay----- Akkayyyaaaa Enjoy it—your body begs for more, the amulet commanded silently. Anjali's hips bucked subtly, pussy lips swelling with slickness, but she broke the kiss gasping, 'This is wrong... Rajeshhhh...Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh ' Yet her eyes held hunger, cheeks red from the passion.
Nights blurred. Rajesh's attempts at sex faltered; Anjali pushed him away, citing fatigue, her mind flooded with Vinay's face. The attraction grew immense, an itch she couldn't scratch. On the fourth night, in the dim bathroom, steam from her bath clinging to her white skin, she caved partially. Fingers brushed her inner thighs, tracing up to her bush, but stopped at her clit. No, not thinking of thammudu. She washed away the temptation, but sleep brought dreams—Vinay's hands on her tits, lips bruising hers.
By the week's end, their meetings escalated. In the laundry room, shared by the complex, Vinay found her folding sarees. He locked the door, pulling her into an alcove. 'Akkayya, kiss me like you mean it.' His lips met hers in a fervent clash, tongue immediately fucking her mouth, sliding in and out with deliberate thrusts. Anjali resisted briefly, head turning, but the magic pulled her back: Immense desire—surrender. After twenty seconds, she kissed back passionately, her tongue wrapping around his, moaning softly as their mouths fused. Hmmmmmmm Aaaaaaaahhhhh
Squeezing her breasts became ritual—over the thin blouse, fingers pinching nipples through cotton, making them throb. He mauled them possessively, palms flattening the flesh, then cupping underneath to feel their pendulum sway. Anjali's breaths came in pants, her pussy clenching emptily, juices soaking her petticoat. The kiss lasted five minutes, evolving from aggressive to mutual devouring, lips nipping, tongues lapping hungrily. When Priya knocked, Anjali pulled away, disheveled, pallu askew, fleeing with a whispered 'Stop this madness.'
The frustration peaked mid-week. Rajesh, sensing her distance, tried to initiate sex roughly, but Anjali turned cold, feigning illness. Alone that night, the ache unbearable—tits still tender from Vinay's gropes, pussy lips puffy and slick—she lay in bed, hand slipping under her nightie. Fingers found her clit, circling tentatively. Just to sleep, she lied to herself. But visions intruded: Vinay's mouth on hers, hands squeezing her boobs until milk-white skin reddened. Her finger dipped into her folds, stroking the wet entrance. 'Thammudu...' she breathed, shame burning, but the orgasm built slowly, crashing in waves as she imagined his cock. Cum coated her fingers; guilt followed, but so did relief.
Vinay sensed the shift through the amulet's feedback, a pulse of success. The next meeting, in the stairwell during a power cut, he amped it up. Darkness cloaked them as he pinned her to the wall, lips crashing in a sloppy, urgent kiss. Tongue invaded deep, swirling against hers in frantic rhythm, sucking her lower lip until it bruised. Anjali responded immediately, hands in his hair, kissing back with growing fervor—tongue pushing into his mouth, exploring boldly. Pcccccchhhhh Mmmmmmmm Mmmmmm
His gropes intensified; one hand inside her pallu now, directly on the blouse, squeezing her left tit hard, fingers clawing the fabric. The right hand mauled the other, nipple trapped and twisted, eliciting sharp gasps. 'Akkayya, your boobs are mine to play with. Feel how hard your nipples get?' She moaned, 'Thammudu, Hmmmmmmm yessssssss... but we mustn't,' even as her body ground against him. The kiss prolonged to seven minutes, wet and noisy, saliva dripping down her chin. When lights flickered on, she adjusted hastily, but the seed was planted deeper.
Daily masturbation became habit. Mornings in the shower, fingers plunging into her pussy, thumb on clit, picturing Vinay's squeezes. Evenings after Rajesh's failed advances, she humped her pillow, whispering his name, orgasms ripping through her with thoughts of his cock stretching her. Less sex with husband—now none—her frustration channeled solely to Vinay. Attraction consumed her; seeing him sparked instant wetness.
A week in, during a 'chance' elevator meet, Vinay notched higher. Alone in the descending box, he yanked her close, mouth devouring hers in a ten-minute frenzy.
Mmmmmmmm Aaaaaaahhh Pccccccchhhhhhh
Tongues battled slickly, lips grinding, her sucking his tongue like a mini-cock. Hands roamed freely—squeezing boobs over and under pallu, pinching nipples until she cried out into his kiss. 'Akkayya, masturbate to me tonight—finger that tight pussy thinking of my dick.' The command via amulet sealed it; she nodded dazedly, kissing back with abandon.
Nights after, she did—fingers fucking herself deep, three now, cumming hard with his name on lips, body arching in ecstasy.
Ohhhhh Yessss Ohhhh Yessssss Ohhhh myyy godddddd Yes yes yes yes yes Thammudu Like that fuck me thammudu I am cumming I am cummming Ohhh my godddd yes yes yesss.
The seduction inched forward, her resistance crumbling, Vinay's passion each meeting eroding her walls further. Priya noticed the glow, smirking knowingly, but the web tightened around Anjali's desires.
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