28-10-2025, 03:36 PM
Shadows of Surrender: The Agony of Tease
The amulet's influence deepened like roots twisting through fertile soil, but Vinay wielded it with calculated restraint now. No longer content with mere gropes, he craved her utter desperation—the way her strong will would fracture under the weight of unfulfilled need. Each night, he refined the commands: Attraction burns hotter, akkayya. Your pussy drips for thammudu's lips on yours, but the ache in your tits screams for more. Masturbate furiously, fingers pounding your hole, yet it never satisfies. Beg for my hands, but I deny you. The magic seeped into Anjali's dreams, amplifying the void left by Rajesh's indifference and her own mounting hunger.
Anjali's days fractured into cycles of torment. Rajesh's touches felt like sandpaper now—clumsy, obligatory when he bothered, which grew rarer as her rejections sharpened. 'Not tonight, Rajesh,' she'd murmur, rolling away, her mind replaying Vinay's kisses instead. The frustration coiled tight in her core, a serpent ready to strike. Mornings brought no relief; in the shower, hot water cascading over her milky skin, she'd lean against the tiles, one hand cupping a heavy breast, thumb flicking the nipple until it peaked stiffly.
Anjali------Aaaaaaaaah Sssssshhh Aaaaaaaah Sssssssh Mmmmmmmm Ummmmmmm
But she stopped short, biting her lip, the denial fueling the fire. By evening, alone while Rajesh dozed, the dam broke. Her nightie hiked to her waist, legs splayed on the bed, she plunged two fingers into her soaked pussy, thrusting hard and fast. 'Thammudu... oh god, touch me,' she gasped, her free hand mauling her own tit, squeezing the soft flesh until red marks bloomed. Juices squelched audibly, her clit throbbing under frantic circles, but the orgasm hit like a half-formed wave—intense yet hollow, leaving her panting, tears of shame pricking her eyes. It wasn't enough; nothing quenched the blaze Vinay had ignited.
Their first encounter after his shift in tactics came unexpectedly in the apartment's rooftop garden, a secluded spot where laundry lines fluttered like ghosts. Anjali had gone up to hang sarees, her blouse straining against her full chest, pallu tucked loosely. Vinay appeared from the shadows, his presence alone making her thighs clench. 'Akkayya, I've been thinking of your mouth all day.' Before she could protest, he backed her against the low wall, lips sealing over hers in a devouring kiss. His tongue speared deep, fucking her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes—sliding along her own, curling to lap at the roof, tasting her sweetness mixed with the faint salt of her nervousness. Anjali's hands flew to his shoulders, pushing weakly at first. 'Thammudu, wait... we shouldn't,' she whispered against his lips, but the pull was magnetic; her tongue responded, twining with his in wet, sucking pulls, her moans vibrating into him.
Anjali------Aaaaaaah Thammuduuuu You are killing meeeeeee
The kiss stretched, five minutes bleeding into ten, his mouth relentless—nipping her full lower lip, sucking it between his teeth until it swelled plump and red, then plunging back in to swirl tongues in a slick dance. Saliva trailed from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her chin as she gasped for air between assaults. Her body betrayed her, hips grinding forward, pussy lips parting under her petticoat with fresh slickness. Desperation clawed at her; the memory of his hands on her breasts haunted her, the ache in her nipples sharpening to knives. 'Thammudu... please,' she murmured into the kiss, grabbing his right hand and guiding it upward, pressing his palm to the swell of her left boob over the blouse. The fabric was thin, her nipple a hard bullet begging for friction. But Vinay resisted, pulling his hand away gently but firmly, latching his mouth back onto hers to stifle her whine. 'Not yet, akkayya. Just kiss me—feel how much you want it.'
She whimpered, the denial twisting the knot in her belly tighter. Her own hands rose instinctively, cupping her breasts through the blouse, squeezing them as if to mimic him, but it paled—her fingers too soft, lacking his possessive grip. The kiss continued, now fifteen minutes, tongues battling fiercely, her sucking his lower lip in retaliation, biting lightly in frustration. When he finally broke away, her lips were bruised, chest heaving, eyes wild with unspent lust. 'Go home, akkayya. Think of this tonight.' She stumbled down the stairs, pallu askew, her pussy clenching around nothing, the frustration a living thing gnawing at her insides.
That night, masturbation consumed her. Rajesh out at a late meeting, Anjali locked the bedroom door, stripping to her petticoat and blouse. She flung herself onto the bed, legs wide, one hand yanking the blouse open to expose her heavy tits—milky orbs spilling free, dark pink nipples erect and begging. 'Thammudu, why won't you touch them?' she cried softly, pinching one nipple hard, twisting until pain blurred into pleasure. Her other hand dove between her thighs, petticoat shoved up, fingers—three now—ramming into her dripping cunt. She fucked herself viciously, palm slapping her clit with each thrust, hips bucking off the mattress. Juices sprayed lightly, soaking the sheets, her moans escalating to sobs. 'Squeeze them... fuck, I need your hands!' Imagining his denial, she mauled her breasts alternately, nails digging into the undersides, lifting and dropping the pendulous weight.
Anjali-------Aaaaaaaaaah Aaaaaaaaaah
The climax tore through her, body convulsing, pussy walls spasming around her fingers as cum gushed out, but the void remained, deeper than before. She curled into a ball, exhausted yet aching, vowing silently to make him yield next time.
Two days passed in a fever of restraint. Vinay avoided her deliberately, letting the amulet stoke the flames. Anjali's encounters with Rajesh devolved further; when he groped her clumsily in bed, she shoved him off, the revulsion stark. 'Leave me alone!' she snapped, turning away, her mind screaming for Vinay's teasing mouth instead. Solitary pleasures intensified—quick rubs in the kitchen while cooking, fingers circling her clit under the saree until she shuddered against the counter, or longer sessions in the afternoon, using the edge of the bed to grind her pussy while squeezing her tits raw.
The next meeting erupted in the corridor outside his flat, Priya away visiting family. Anjali knocked hesitantly, borrowing sugar as pretext, but her eyes burned with need. Vinay pulled her inside, door slamming, and crushed her against it. His lips claimed hers immediately, tongue thrusting in like a cock, pounding her mouth with urgent rhythm—deep, withdrawing, then slamming back, coating her tongue in his saliva. Anjali melted into it, kissing back with feral hunger, her tongue chasing his, sucking greedily as if to draw sustenance from him. The wet sounds echoed—smacks of lips, slurps of tongues tangling, her breaths ragged through her nose.
Eight minutes in, her desperation peaked; the kiss alone wasn't enough, her nipples scbangd painfully against her blouse, breasts swollen and heavy. 'Thammudu... touch me here,' she begged, breaking for air, seizing both his hands and plastering them to her chest. She arched into his palms, grinding her tits against them, the friction sending sparks to her core. Her pussy throbbed, inner walls fluttering, a fresh gush of wetness trickling down her thigh. But Vinay pried his hands free, pinning her wrists above her head with one of his, the other cupping her jaw to angle her for deeper kisses. 'No, akkayya. Lips only. Let the want build.' He dove back in, tongue-fucking her mouth mercilessly, now twenty minutes strong, her body writhing against the door, hips humping air in futile search for relief.
Tears of frustration welled as she kissed him back harder, biting his tongue lightly, her free leg hooking his waist to pull him closer. The mangalsutra chain clinked against her skin, a reminder of her crumbling vows. When he released her, she slid down the door slightly, blouse damp with sweat, lips glistening. 'Please... my boobs hurt so much,' she whispered, but he stepped back, eyes dark with control. 'Masturbate to it tonight—harder, akkayya. Imagine my denial.' She fled to her flat, slamming the door, stripping naked and attacking her body with renewed fury.
On the bed, fully exposed, her white skin flushed pink, Anjali spread her legs obscenely, knees to chest. Four fingers stretched her pussy wide, plunging in and out with squelching force, thumb mashing her clit brutally. 'Thammudu! Squeeze them, fuck!' she screamed into the pillow, her other hand alternating between tits—slapping the heavy flesh to watch it jiggle, then pinching nipples until they purpled. Sweat beaded on her brow, the room filling with the obscene sounds of her self-fucking: wet slaps, guttural moans, the creak of the bed. She edged herself twice, stopping just before release to prolong the agony, mimicking his tease. When orgasm finally shattered her, it was cataclysmic—body seizing, pussy squirting arcs of cum onto the sheets, tits heaving with each sob. Yet dawn brought no peace; the hunger roared louder.
Encounters multiplied, each a exquisite torture. In the elevator, a brief descent turned into a three-minute frenzy: Vinay's mouth devouring hers, tongue swirling in hypnotic loops, her sucking back with vacuum force, saliva bubbling at their lips. She clawed at his hands, trying to force them to her chest—'Feel how full they are, thammudu, please!'—but he batted them away, whispering, 'Deny yourself for me.' Her pussy clenched in response, soaking her panties, the frustration making her knees weak.
Nights devolved into marathons of masturbation. One evening, after Rajesh's failed grope left her seething, she oiled her fingers, sliding them into her ass experimentally while three fucked her pussy, the dual penetration a poor substitute for him. 'Your cock... in me, thammudu,' she panted, tits bouncing as she humped her hand, orgasms chaining one after another—five in an hour—each leaving her more wrecked, body slick with sweat and cum, mind fractured by obsession.
A week in, the rooftop again, under moonlight. Vinay pinned her to a bench, the kiss evolving into a half-hour epic: tongues dueling in exhaustive patterns—slow laps, rapid flicks, deep throat-mimicking thrusts that left her gagging softly on his saliva. Anjali's desperation boiled over; she humped his thigh shamelessly, the friction on her clit through layers of cloth maddening. Twice she guided his hands to her breasts, pressing hard, feeling the give of her flesh under his fingers—'Squeeze, thammudu, make them hurt good!'—but he withdrew each time, laughing softly into her mouth. 'Not until you break completely.' She came untouched then, pussy spasming against his leg, a wet spot blooming, her cries muffled in the kiss.
Her solo sessions hit new depravity. Using a cucumber from the kitchen, chilled and thick, she rammed it into her cunt while clamping her nipples with clothespins, the pain amplifying every thrust. 'Why deny me? Fuck my tits!' she wailed, the vegetable pistoning deep, hitting her cervix, cum flooding out in rhythmic pulses. Orgasms blurred into exhaustion, but the cycle repeated—frustration birthing fiercer need.
Vinay watched through the amulet's subtle link, her desperation his aphrodisiac. The seduction inched on, her will eroding under the tease, each denied touch forging her into his perfect, begging prize.
The amulet's influence deepened like roots twisting through fertile soil, but Vinay wielded it with calculated restraint now. No longer content with mere gropes, he craved her utter desperation—the way her strong will would fracture under the weight of unfulfilled need. Each night, he refined the commands: Attraction burns hotter, akkayya. Your pussy drips for thammudu's lips on yours, but the ache in your tits screams for more. Masturbate furiously, fingers pounding your hole, yet it never satisfies. Beg for my hands, but I deny you. The magic seeped into Anjali's dreams, amplifying the void left by Rajesh's indifference and her own mounting hunger.
Anjali's days fractured into cycles of torment. Rajesh's touches felt like sandpaper now—clumsy, obligatory when he bothered, which grew rarer as her rejections sharpened. 'Not tonight, Rajesh,' she'd murmur, rolling away, her mind replaying Vinay's kisses instead. The frustration coiled tight in her core, a serpent ready to strike. Mornings brought no relief; in the shower, hot water cascading over her milky skin, she'd lean against the tiles, one hand cupping a heavy breast, thumb flicking the nipple until it peaked stiffly.
Anjali------Aaaaaaaaah Sssssshhh Aaaaaaaah Sssssssh Mmmmmmmm Ummmmmmm
But she stopped short, biting her lip, the denial fueling the fire. By evening, alone while Rajesh dozed, the dam broke. Her nightie hiked to her waist, legs splayed on the bed, she plunged two fingers into her soaked pussy, thrusting hard and fast. 'Thammudu... oh god, touch me,' she gasped, her free hand mauling her own tit, squeezing the soft flesh until red marks bloomed. Juices squelched audibly, her clit throbbing under frantic circles, but the orgasm hit like a half-formed wave—intense yet hollow, leaving her panting, tears of shame pricking her eyes. It wasn't enough; nothing quenched the blaze Vinay had ignited.
Their first encounter after his shift in tactics came unexpectedly in the apartment's rooftop garden, a secluded spot where laundry lines fluttered like ghosts. Anjali had gone up to hang sarees, her blouse straining against her full chest, pallu tucked loosely. Vinay appeared from the shadows, his presence alone making her thighs clench. 'Akkayya, I've been thinking of your mouth all day.' Before she could protest, he backed her against the low wall, lips sealing over hers in a devouring kiss. His tongue speared deep, fucking her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes—sliding along her own, curling to lap at the roof, tasting her sweetness mixed with the faint salt of her nervousness. Anjali's hands flew to his shoulders, pushing weakly at first. 'Thammudu, wait... we shouldn't,' she whispered against his lips, but the pull was magnetic; her tongue responded, twining with his in wet, sucking pulls, her moans vibrating into him.
Anjali------Aaaaaaah Thammuduuuu You are killing meeeeeee
The kiss stretched, five minutes bleeding into ten, his mouth relentless—nipping her full lower lip, sucking it between his teeth until it swelled plump and red, then plunging back in to swirl tongues in a slick dance. Saliva trailed from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her chin as she gasped for air between assaults. Her body betrayed her, hips grinding forward, pussy lips parting under her petticoat with fresh slickness. Desperation clawed at her; the memory of his hands on her breasts haunted her, the ache in her nipples sharpening to knives. 'Thammudu... please,' she murmured into the kiss, grabbing his right hand and guiding it upward, pressing his palm to the swell of her left boob over the blouse. The fabric was thin, her nipple a hard bullet begging for friction. But Vinay resisted, pulling his hand away gently but firmly, latching his mouth back onto hers to stifle her whine. 'Not yet, akkayya. Just kiss me—feel how much you want it.'
She whimpered, the denial twisting the knot in her belly tighter. Her own hands rose instinctively, cupping her breasts through the blouse, squeezing them as if to mimic him, but it paled—her fingers too soft, lacking his possessive grip. The kiss continued, now fifteen minutes, tongues battling fiercely, her sucking his lower lip in retaliation, biting lightly in frustration. When he finally broke away, her lips were bruised, chest heaving, eyes wild with unspent lust. 'Go home, akkayya. Think of this tonight.' She stumbled down the stairs, pallu askew, her pussy clenching around nothing, the frustration a living thing gnawing at her insides.
That night, masturbation consumed her. Rajesh out at a late meeting, Anjali locked the bedroom door, stripping to her petticoat and blouse. She flung herself onto the bed, legs wide, one hand yanking the blouse open to expose her heavy tits—milky orbs spilling free, dark pink nipples erect and begging. 'Thammudu, why won't you touch them?' she cried softly, pinching one nipple hard, twisting until pain blurred into pleasure. Her other hand dove between her thighs, petticoat shoved up, fingers—three now—ramming into her dripping cunt. She fucked herself viciously, palm slapping her clit with each thrust, hips bucking off the mattress. Juices sprayed lightly, soaking the sheets, her moans escalating to sobs. 'Squeeze them... fuck, I need your hands!' Imagining his denial, she mauled her breasts alternately, nails digging into the undersides, lifting and dropping the pendulous weight.
Anjali-------Aaaaaaaaaah Aaaaaaaaaah
The climax tore through her, body convulsing, pussy walls spasming around her fingers as cum gushed out, but the void remained, deeper than before. She curled into a ball, exhausted yet aching, vowing silently to make him yield next time.
Two days passed in a fever of restraint. Vinay avoided her deliberately, letting the amulet stoke the flames. Anjali's encounters with Rajesh devolved further; when he groped her clumsily in bed, she shoved him off, the revulsion stark. 'Leave me alone!' she snapped, turning away, her mind screaming for Vinay's teasing mouth instead. Solitary pleasures intensified—quick rubs in the kitchen while cooking, fingers circling her clit under the saree until she shuddered against the counter, or longer sessions in the afternoon, using the edge of the bed to grind her pussy while squeezing her tits raw.
The next meeting erupted in the corridor outside his flat, Priya away visiting family. Anjali knocked hesitantly, borrowing sugar as pretext, but her eyes burned with need. Vinay pulled her inside, door slamming, and crushed her against it. His lips claimed hers immediately, tongue thrusting in like a cock, pounding her mouth with urgent rhythm—deep, withdrawing, then slamming back, coating her tongue in his saliva. Anjali melted into it, kissing back with feral hunger, her tongue chasing his, sucking greedily as if to draw sustenance from him. The wet sounds echoed—smacks of lips, slurps of tongues tangling, her breaths ragged through her nose.
Eight minutes in, her desperation peaked; the kiss alone wasn't enough, her nipples scbangd painfully against her blouse, breasts swollen and heavy. 'Thammudu... touch me here,' she begged, breaking for air, seizing both his hands and plastering them to her chest. She arched into his palms, grinding her tits against them, the friction sending sparks to her core. Her pussy throbbed, inner walls fluttering, a fresh gush of wetness trickling down her thigh. But Vinay pried his hands free, pinning her wrists above her head with one of his, the other cupping her jaw to angle her for deeper kisses. 'No, akkayya. Lips only. Let the want build.' He dove back in, tongue-fucking her mouth mercilessly, now twenty minutes strong, her body writhing against the door, hips humping air in futile search for relief.
Tears of frustration welled as she kissed him back harder, biting his tongue lightly, her free leg hooking his waist to pull him closer. The mangalsutra chain clinked against her skin, a reminder of her crumbling vows. When he released her, she slid down the door slightly, blouse damp with sweat, lips glistening. 'Please... my boobs hurt so much,' she whispered, but he stepped back, eyes dark with control. 'Masturbate to it tonight—harder, akkayya. Imagine my denial.' She fled to her flat, slamming the door, stripping naked and attacking her body with renewed fury.
On the bed, fully exposed, her white skin flushed pink, Anjali spread her legs obscenely, knees to chest. Four fingers stretched her pussy wide, plunging in and out with squelching force, thumb mashing her clit brutally. 'Thammudu! Squeeze them, fuck!' she screamed into the pillow, her other hand alternating between tits—slapping the heavy flesh to watch it jiggle, then pinching nipples until they purpled. Sweat beaded on her brow, the room filling with the obscene sounds of her self-fucking: wet slaps, guttural moans, the creak of the bed. She edged herself twice, stopping just before release to prolong the agony, mimicking his tease. When orgasm finally shattered her, it was cataclysmic—body seizing, pussy squirting arcs of cum onto the sheets, tits heaving with each sob. Yet dawn brought no peace; the hunger roared louder.
Encounters multiplied, each a exquisite torture. In the elevator, a brief descent turned into a three-minute frenzy: Vinay's mouth devouring hers, tongue swirling in hypnotic loops, her sucking back with vacuum force, saliva bubbling at their lips. She clawed at his hands, trying to force them to her chest—'Feel how full they are, thammudu, please!'—but he batted them away, whispering, 'Deny yourself for me.' Her pussy clenched in response, soaking her panties, the frustration making her knees weak.
Nights devolved into marathons of masturbation. One evening, after Rajesh's failed grope left her seething, she oiled her fingers, sliding them into her ass experimentally while three fucked her pussy, the dual penetration a poor substitute for him. 'Your cock... in me, thammudu,' she panted, tits bouncing as she humped her hand, orgasms chaining one after another—five in an hour—each leaving her more wrecked, body slick with sweat and cum, mind fractured by obsession.
A week in, the rooftop again, under moonlight. Vinay pinned her to a bench, the kiss evolving into a half-hour epic: tongues dueling in exhaustive patterns—slow laps, rapid flicks, deep throat-mimicking thrusts that left her gagging softly on his saliva. Anjali's desperation boiled over; she humped his thigh shamelessly, the friction on her clit through layers of cloth maddening. Twice she guided his hands to her breasts, pressing hard, feeling the give of her flesh under his fingers—'Squeeze, thammudu, make them hurt good!'—but he withdrew each time, laughing softly into her mouth. 'Not until you break completely.' She came untouched then, pussy spasming against his leg, a wet spot blooming, her cries muffled in the kiss.
Her solo sessions hit new depravity. Using a cucumber from the kitchen, chilled and thick, she rammed it into her cunt while clamping her nipples with clothespins, the pain amplifying every thrust. 'Why deny me? Fuck my tits!' she wailed, the vegetable pistoning deep, hitting her cervix, cum flooding out in rhythmic pulses. Orgasms blurred into exhaustion, but the cycle repeated—frustration birthing fiercer need.
Vinay watched through the amulet's subtle link, her desperation his aphrodisiac. The seduction inched on, her will eroding under the tease, each denied touch forging her into his perfect, begging prize.
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