30-11-2025, 12:50 AM
(This post was last modified: 30-11-2025, 12:58 AM by cutekomal. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.
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Act 12: The Mirror Room Confession
The hotel suite was on the twenty-third floor, facing the black shimmer of the Hooghly at midnight. Sameek had booked it under a fake name, paid in cash, and told the receptionist they did not want housekeeping for two days. When Priyanka stepped inside she stopped dead.
Every wall except the bathroom was floor-to-ceiling mirror. Even the ceiling above the king bed was mirrored. Soft amber lights glowed behind the glass, turning the room into a golden cage of reflections.
Priyanka let her dupatta slide to the floor. “You want me to see myself being fucked from every possible angle, don’t you?”
Sameek locked the door behind them and leaned against it, arms folded, eyes already dark. “I want us to see everything we pretend we don’t do. No hiding tonight, Devil Partner. Every moan, every drop, every filthy thought reflected back at us.”
Priyanka turned slowly, taking in the endless versions of herself: breasts rising under the thin cotton kurti, nipples already stiff, thighs pressing together because she was wet the moment she understood what this room meant.
She met his gaze in the mirror behind him. “Then start recording in your head, Sameek. Because I’m going to give you a show you’ll replay till you’re old and grey.”
He crossed the room in three strides, caught her by the waist and spun her so her back hit the cool glass. Their reflections kissed before their real mouths did.
Sameek’s voice dropped to that low growl she loved. “Tell me what you see right now.”
Priyanka looked over his shoulder at the mirror. “I see a married woman about to let her lover ruin her in front of herself. I see her nipples begging. I see her legs already shaking.”
He slid one hand up her kurti, cupped her breast, thumb flicking the hard peak. “And what does that woman want first?”
She bit his lower lip, tugged. “She wants her lover to strip her slow enough that she can watch every inch disappear. She wants to see the exact moment she becomes nothing but need.”
Sameek stepped back just far enough to pull the kurti over her head. The mirrors caught the motion from every side: fabric lifting, breasts bouncing free, her sharp inhale as the cool air hit her skin.
He tossed the kurti away. “Bra next. You do it. Look at yourself while you do.”
Priyanka reached behind, fingers trembling only slightly. The clasp snapped open. She let the straps slide down her arms, eyes locked on her own reflection. The cups fell away and her breasts looked heavier, fuller, nipples dark and aching.
“Look at them,” she whispered to the mirror. “Look what you do to me, Sameek. They hurt for your mouth.”
He groaned and dropped to his knees. Both hands cupped her breasts from underneath, lifting, offering them to the room, to the mirrors, to himself. His tongue circled one nipple slowly, then the other, never quite touching where she needed.
Priyanka’s head fell back against the glass. “You’re cruel.”
“No,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m thorough. Tell the mirrors what you want me to do.”
“Suck them hard,” she said instantly, voice cracking. “Bite them. Leave marks so tomorrow when I’m in a meeting I feel you every time the bra rubs.”
He obeyed instantly, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard, teeth scbanging just enough. Her moan echoed in the glass chamber, multiplied by reflections until it sounded like a dozen women crying out at once.
Sameek pulled back, lips wet. “Pajami next. Slide it down and show every Priyanka in this room how soaked her panties are.”
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband, pushed the cotton down her hips, stepped out. The pajami pooled at her feet. In the mirrors her thighs glistened halfway to the knee.
Sameek’s breath hissed out. “Turn around. Bend over. Hands on the mirror. I want to see that wet cunt from behind while your tits hang in front.”
Priyanka turned, placed her palms on the cool glass, bent forward. The mirrors gave her a perfect view between her own legs: swollen lips, slick and shining, clit peeking out, begging.
Sameek knelt again, hands spreading her cheeks. “Look at yourself, Priyanka. Look how ready you are to be fucked like an animal.”
She watched his reflection slide two fingers inside her without warning. Her back arched, a broken sound escaping.
“Tell me,” he said, curling his fingers, stroking that spot that made her knees buckle. “Tell every reflection who this pussy belongs to tonight.”
“You,” she gasped. “Only you, Sameek. Always you.”
He added a third finger, stretching her, pumping slow. “Wrong answer. Tonight it belongs to every filthy version of us in these mirrors. Say it.”
Her forehead pressed against the glass, breath fogging it. “It belongs… to every filthy version of us… watching us sin.”
“Good girl.” He stood, shed his clothes in seconds. His cock jutted up hard and thick, the head already wet. He rubbed it up and down her slit, coating himself.
Priyanka watched over her shoulder, watched in the side mirrors, watched in the ceiling above. “Do it. Fuck me where I can see everything.”
He pushed in with one long thrust. They both cried out. The mirrors caught it all: the stretch of her lips around him, the way her breasts swung with the force, the raw pleasure on both their faces.
Sameek gripped her hips and set a brutal rhythm. “Look up,” he ordered. “Look at the ceiling. Watch me disappear inside you again and again.”
She did. The sight was obscene: her body rocking, tits bouncing wildly, his cock sliding in and out, glistening with her juices.
“Sameek… oh god…”
“Tell me what you see,” he growled, never slowing.
“I see… a woman losing her mind… on her lover’s cock… I see her cunt swallowing him… I see her about to come just from watching herself get fucked…”
He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing hard circles. “Then come. Come while you watch yourself break.”
The orgasm hit her like a slap. She screamed, body seizing, walls clamping down on him so hard he cursed. Her palms slid down the mirror, leaving sweaty trails.
Sameek pulled out, spun her around, lifted her. Her back hit the glass again, legs wrapping his waist instinctively. He slid back in and fucked her against the mirror, her ass squeaking against the surface with every thrust.
Priyanka’s nails raked his shoulders. “Harder… make the glass shake…”
He obliged, pounding into her until the mirrors trembled. Their reflections blurred with motion.
She buried her face in his neck, then pulled back, eyes wild. “I want to watch you come on me. Pull out. Paint me where I can see.”
Sameek dropped her legs, stepped back, fisting his cock. “Kneel.”
She sank down instantly, mouth open, tongue out, staring up at her own reflection behind him: a woman on her knees, tits heaving, eyes desperate.
Sameek groaned, stroking fast. “Watch yourself take it, Priyanka. Watch what you do to me.”
The first spurt hit her tongue, the next striped her cheek, her chin, her breasts. She moaned with every hot splash, rubbing it into her skin, marking herself.
When he finished, he hauled her up, kissed her deep, tasting himself on her lips.
Priyanka laughed breathlessly against his mouth. “Look at us,” she whispered. “Look at what we are.”
In the mirrors they were endless: a man and a woman drenched in sweat and cum, bodies locked together, eyes promising the night had barely started.
Sameek rested his forehead against hers. “This is only the first room, Devil Partner. The bed still hasn’t felt you scream yet.”
Priyanka glanced at the huge bed waiting in the centre of all those reflections. “Then take me there,” she said, voice raw. “And don’t stop until every single Priyanka in this room knows exactly who she belongs to.”
Sameek carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing. The mirrored ceiling caught every detail: her legs still trembling, cum glistening on her breasts and throat, his cock half-hard already, swinging heavy between them. He laid her in the centre and stood back, letting her see herself from above: sprawled, ruined, beautiful.
Priyanka’s voice was hoarse. “I look like I’ve been fucked by ten men.”
Sameek crawled over her, slow, predatory. “Only one tonight. But he’s not finished.”
He straddled her waist, knees pinning her arms lightly. His cock rested between her breasts, already thickening again.
“Look up,” he ordered.
She did. The ceiling showed everything: his balls resting on her sternum, his shaft sliding through the mess he had already left on her skin, her own eyes wide and hungry.
“Hold them together,” he said.
Priyanka cupped her breasts, pressed them tight around him. The slide was obscene: slick with cum and sweat, the head of his cock popping out at the top with every slow thrust.
Sameek’s voice dropped. “Tell the woman in the ceiling who this cock belongs to.”
She licked her lips, tasting him still. “It belongs to the slut on her back who can’t get enough. It belongs to me, Sameek. Only me.”
He rewarded her with a harder thrust, the head bumping her chin. “Good. Now open your mouth.”
She did. On the next stroke he pushed forward and slid between her lips. She moaned around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling.
Above them the mirror showed it perfectly: her mouth stretched wide, breasts squeezed tight, his hips rocking gently, feeding himself to her inch by inch.
Sameek groaned. “That’s it… watch yourself choke on me… watch how greedy you are…”
Priyanka’s eyes watered but she didn’t pull back. She took him deeper, throat working, saliva dripping down her chin onto her chest.
He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting them. “Turn over. Ass up. I want the mirrors to see everything.”
She rolled fast, knees under her, back arched, face turned so she could watch the side wall. The reflection was merciless: her pussy swollen and dripping, thighs shining, breasts hanging heavy.
Sameek knelt behind her. He didn’t enter yet. He just rubbed the head up and down her slit, coating himself again.
“Beg,” he said simply.
Priyanka’s voice cracked instantly. “Please, Sameek… fuck me… I need to feel you split me open again… I need to watch it happen…”
He pushed in slow. One long, unbroken slide until his hips met her ass. They both cried out.
The mirrors caught it from every angle: the stretch, the way her lips clung to him on the outstroke, the tremble in her thighs.
Sameek set a punishing rhythm. Skin slapping skin echoed in the glass chamber.
“Look at the ceiling,” he growled. “Watch your tits swing while I fuck you like a whore.”
She did. The sight pushed her over: breasts bouncing wildly, his cock disappearing into her again and again, her own mouth open in a constant silent scream.
“Sameek… I’m…”
“Not yet.” He pulled out completely, leaving her empty and clenching on nothing.
She sobbed in frustration. “Please!”
He flipped her onto her back again, hooked her knees over his elbows, spread her wide. The mirrors showed her pussy gaping, desperate.
“Look straight up,” he said. “Watch me own you.”
He slammed back in. The angle was brutal. Every thrust lifted her hips off the bed.
Priyanka’s hands flew to her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. “Harder… make it hurt… make me feel it tomorrow…”
He leaned forward, folding her nearly in half, pounding so deep she felt him in her throat.
Above them the ceiling mirror showed everything: her legs spread impossibly wide, his ass flexing with every thrust, her face twisted in pure, filthy ecstasy.
“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell every reflection what you are right now.”
“I’m your whore,” she screamed. “Your married whore who lives for this cock… who dreams of it when her husband is asleep beside her… I’m yours, Sameek… only yours…”
The words broke him. His rhythm stuttered. “Fuck… Priyanka…”
“Come inside me,” she begged. “Fill me… let the mirrors watch you breed me…”
He slammed deep and stayed there, hips jerking as he emptied himself. She felt every pulse, every hot flood.
Her own orgasm followed instantly, ripping through her so hard her vision went white for a second. She screamed his name until her voice cracked.
When it passed, he collapsed on top of her, both of them shaking. Cum leaked out around his softening cock, dripping onto the sheets.
Priyanka turned her head, met her own eyes in the side mirror. The woman looking back was flushed, wrecked, utterly claimed.
Sameek kissed her shoulder, lazy and possessive. “Still think you look like you’ve been fucked by ten men?”
She laughed, breathless. “No. Just one. But he fucked me like a hundred.”
He rolled off her, pulled her into his arms so they both faced the ceiling mirror. Their reflections lay tangled, glistening, perfect.
Priyanka traced a finger through the mess on her stomach. “We’re disgusting.”
“We’re beautiful,” he corrected.
She smiled, turned her face into his neck. “Next time… I want the camera.”
Sameek’s arms tightened around her. “Next time,” he promised against her hair, “we won’t just watch ourselves. We’ll make sure we never forget.”
The ceiling fan spun lazily above them, pushing warm air over their cooling skin.
Sameek lay on his back, one arm under Priyanka’s neck, the other tracing idle circles around her navel.
Cum still glistened on her belly and breasts; the mirrors multiplied the evidence into infinity.
Priyanka’s voice came out soft, almost shy after all the screaming.
“Do you remember the first time we ever spoke about the ‘train fantasy’?”
Sameek’s fingers stilled. A slow grin spread across his face.
“How could I forget? You were in that red cotton saree, sitting on the last seat of the ladies’ coach, pretending to read a book while messaging me filth on WhatsApp.”
Priyanka laughed, the sound low and husky.
“I was terrified someone would look over my shoulder. My heart was hammering so hard I thought the ticket checker would hear it.”
Sameek rolled onto his side, propped his head on his hand, eyes gleaming in the amber light.
“Tell me again what you wrote that day. Word for word. I still have the screenshots.”
She bit her lip, cheeks warming.
“I wrote… ‘Imagine this coach is almost empty. Only three people left after Howrah. You slip in from the gentlemen’s side when the lights go off. You stand behind my seat, hand over my mouth so I don’t scream when I feel your fingers sliding under my pallu…’”
Sameek’s voice dropped to that dangerous register she loved.
“And then you wrote, ‘I want you to fuck me right here, standing, while the train rocks. I want to bite my own pallu to stay quiet. I want your cum dripping down my thighs when I get off at my station so I feel you the whole auto ride home.’”
Priyanka shivered at the memory.
“I came twice on that train just typing it to you. My panties were ruined. I had to sit with my purse on my lap for the rest of the journey.”
Sameek leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth.
“I jerked off in the stinking train toilet reading your messages. Came so hard I saw stars. Almost missed my stop.”
She turned to face him fully, breasts brushing his chest.
“Do you know what I still think about from that night?”
“Tell me.”
“That I never got to feel your hand actually covering my mouth. That I never got to feel the real danger of someone walking in while you were inside me.”
Sameek’s eyes darkened.
“You still want that? The real thing?”
Priyanka’s breath hitched.
“I want the upgraded version. Sleeper coach. Lower berth. Night journey. You book the side lower opposite me like a stranger. Curtain half drawn. Everyone pretending to sleep. And then…”
She trailed off, suddenly shy again.
Sameek’s hand slid down between her legs, fingers gliding through the mess he had left.
“And then what, Devil Partner? Finish the sentence.”
Priyanka’s hips lifted into his touch without permission.
“And then you wait till the coach is snoring. You slide the curtain, crawl into my berth, lift my nighty just enough, and fuck me slow and silent while the train sways. Your palm over my mouth the whole time so I don’t wake the uncle above.”
Sameek pushed two fingers inside her, curling lazily.
“Keep going.”
She moaned softly.
“I want to feel the berth curtain brushing my cheek while you’re deep in me. I want to taste your fingers after they’ve been in my pussy. I want you to come inside me and then make me sit up straight, pull my nighty down, and go back to your berth like nothing happened. So that every time the train jerks I feel your cum shift inside me.”
Sameek added a third finger, stretching her gently.
“And when we reach the destination?”
Priyanka’s eyes fluttered.
“I want to walk past you in the crowd on the platform, look you dead in the eye, and mouth ‘thank you, stranger’ while your cum is still leaking into my panties.”
He groaned, cock already hardening against her thigh.
“Fuck, Priyanka. You say that like it’s just a fantasy. We could book tickets tomorrow.”
She laughed, breathless.
“My husband thinks I’m going to my cousin’s place in Bhubaneswar next month. Two nights, three days. AC two-tier.”
Sameek’s fingers stilled inside her.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.” She reached down, wrapped her hand around his fresh erection. “I even checked the train. It has those old curtains that don’t close fully. Perfect gap for watching.”
He kissed her hard, possessive.
“Then we’re doing it. But with one addition.”
“Tell me.”
He bit her lower lip.
“I’m going to make you come twice on that berth. Once with my cock, once with my fingers while I whisper exactly how many people are sleeping six feet away. And when I come inside you, you’re not allowed to clean up. Not in the nasty train toilet, not at the hotel. You’ll keep me inside you until we reach the hotel room and I fuck my cum back into you properly.”
Priyanka’s inner walls clenched around his fingers at the words.
“Promise?”
“Swear on Dojo,” he whispered, sliding his fingers out and painting her own wetness across her lips. She licked them clean without hesitation.
She looked up at the mirrored ceiling: two bodies already tangled again, reflections ready for the next round.
“Sameek?”
“Hmm?”
“Next time we do the train… I want you to record the audio on your phone. Just the sounds. The creaking berth, my muffled moans against your palm, the train wheels. So we can play it back in places like this and remember how close we came to getting caught.”
He rolled on top of her, cock nudging her entrance, eyes burning into hers and into every mirrored version of hers.
“Deal, Devil Partner. But only if you promise one thing.”
She arched up, taking the head of him inside her.
“Anything.”
“When we’re on that train and I’m buried balls-deep in you, you’ll look me in the eye and mouth the words we wrote that very first time.”
Priyanka smiled, wicked and devoted, and whispered against his lips:
“Thank you, stranger.”
The hotel suite was on the twenty-third floor, facing the black shimmer of the Hooghly at midnight. Sameek had booked it under a fake name, paid in cash, and told the receptionist they did not want housekeeping for two days. When Priyanka stepped inside she stopped dead.
Every wall except the bathroom was floor-to-ceiling mirror. Even the ceiling above the king bed was mirrored. Soft amber lights glowed behind the glass, turning the room into a golden cage of reflections.
Priyanka let her dupatta slide to the floor. “You want me to see myself being fucked from every possible angle, don’t you?”
Sameek locked the door behind them and leaned against it, arms folded, eyes already dark. “I want us to see everything we pretend we don’t do. No hiding tonight, Devil Partner. Every moan, every drop, every filthy thought reflected back at us.”
Priyanka turned slowly, taking in the endless versions of herself: breasts rising under the thin cotton kurti, nipples already stiff, thighs pressing together because she was wet the moment she understood what this room meant.
She met his gaze in the mirror behind him. “Then start recording in your head, Sameek. Because I’m going to give you a show you’ll replay till you’re old and grey.”
He crossed the room in three strides, caught her by the waist and spun her so her back hit the cool glass. Their reflections kissed before their real mouths did.
Sameek’s voice dropped to that low growl she loved. “Tell me what you see right now.”
Priyanka looked over his shoulder at the mirror. “I see a married woman about to let her lover ruin her in front of herself. I see her nipples begging. I see her legs already shaking.”
He slid one hand up her kurti, cupped her breast, thumb flicking the hard peak. “And what does that woman want first?”
She bit his lower lip, tugged. “She wants her lover to strip her slow enough that she can watch every inch disappear. She wants to see the exact moment she becomes nothing but need.”
Sameek stepped back just far enough to pull the kurti over her head. The mirrors caught the motion from every side: fabric lifting, breasts bouncing free, her sharp inhale as the cool air hit her skin.
He tossed the kurti away. “Bra next. You do it. Look at yourself while you do.”
Priyanka reached behind, fingers trembling only slightly. The clasp snapped open. She let the straps slide down her arms, eyes locked on her own reflection. The cups fell away and her breasts looked heavier, fuller, nipples dark and aching.
“Look at them,” she whispered to the mirror. “Look what you do to me, Sameek. They hurt for your mouth.”
He groaned and dropped to his knees. Both hands cupped her breasts from underneath, lifting, offering them to the room, to the mirrors, to himself. His tongue circled one nipple slowly, then the other, never quite touching where she needed.
Priyanka’s head fell back against the glass. “You’re cruel.”
“No,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m thorough. Tell the mirrors what you want me to do.”
“Suck them hard,” she said instantly, voice cracking. “Bite them. Leave marks so tomorrow when I’m in a meeting I feel you every time the bra rubs.”
He obeyed instantly, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard, teeth scbanging just enough. Her moan echoed in the glass chamber, multiplied by reflections until it sounded like a dozen women crying out at once.
Sameek pulled back, lips wet. “Pajami next. Slide it down and show every Priyanka in this room how soaked her panties are.”
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband, pushed the cotton down her hips, stepped out. The pajami pooled at her feet. In the mirrors her thighs glistened halfway to the knee.
Sameek’s breath hissed out. “Turn around. Bend over. Hands on the mirror. I want to see that wet cunt from behind while your tits hang in front.”
Priyanka turned, placed her palms on the cool glass, bent forward. The mirrors gave her a perfect view between her own legs: swollen lips, slick and shining, clit peeking out, begging.
Sameek knelt again, hands spreading her cheeks. “Look at yourself, Priyanka. Look how ready you are to be fucked like an animal.”
She watched his reflection slide two fingers inside her without warning. Her back arched, a broken sound escaping.
“Tell me,” he said, curling his fingers, stroking that spot that made her knees buckle. “Tell every reflection who this pussy belongs to tonight.”
“You,” she gasped. “Only you, Sameek. Always you.”
He added a third finger, stretching her, pumping slow. “Wrong answer. Tonight it belongs to every filthy version of us in these mirrors. Say it.”
Her forehead pressed against the glass, breath fogging it. “It belongs… to every filthy version of us… watching us sin.”
“Good girl.” He stood, shed his clothes in seconds. His cock jutted up hard and thick, the head already wet. He rubbed it up and down her slit, coating himself.
Priyanka watched over her shoulder, watched in the side mirrors, watched in the ceiling above. “Do it. Fuck me where I can see everything.”
He pushed in with one long thrust. They both cried out. The mirrors caught it all: the stretch of her lips around him, the way her breasts swung with the force, the raw pleasure on both their faces.
Sameek gripped her hips and set a brutal rhythm. “Look up,” he ordered. “Look at the ceiling. Watch me disappear inside you again and again.”
She did. The sight was obscene: her body rocking, tits bouncing wildly, his cock sliding in and out, glistening with her juices.
“Sameek… oh god…”
“Tell me what you see,” he growled, never slowing.
“I see… a woman losing her mind… on her lover’s cock… I see her cunt swallowing him… I see her about to come just from watching herself get fucked…”
He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing hard circles. “Then come. Come while you watch yourself break.”
The orgasm hit her like a slap. She screamed, body seizing, walls clamping down on him so hard he cursed. Her palms slid down the mirror, leaving sweaty trails.
Sameek pulled out, spun her around, lifted her. Her back hit the glass again, legs wrapping his waist instinctively. He slid back in and fucked her against the mirror, her ass squeaking against the surface with every thrust.
Priyanka’s nails raked his shoulders. “Harder… make the glass shake…”
He obliged, pounding into her until the mirrors trembled. Their reflections blurred with motion.
She buried her face in his neck, then pulled back, eyes wild. “I want to watch you come on me. Pull out. Paint me where I can see.”
Sameek dropped her legs, stepped back, fisting his cock. “Kneel.”
She sank down instantly, mouth open, tongue out, staring up at her own reflection behind him: a woman on her knees, tits heaving, eyes desperate.
Sameek groaned, stroking fast. “Watch yourself take it, Priyanka. Watch what you do to me.”
The first spurt hit her tongue, the next striped her cheek, her chin, her breasts. She moaned with every hot splash, rubbing it into her skin, marking herself.
When he finished, he hauled her up, kissed her deep, tasting himself on her lips.
Priyanka laughed breathlessly against his mouth. “Look at us,” she whispered. “Look at what we are.”
In the mirrors they were endless: a man and a woman drenched in sweat and cum, bodies locked together, eyes promising the night had barely started.
Sameek rested his forehead against hers. “This is only the first room, Devil Partner. The bed still hasn’t felt you scream yet.”
Priyanka glanced at the huge bed waiting in the centre of all those reflections. “Then take me there,” she said, voice raw. “And don’t stop until every single Priyanka in this room knows exactly who she belongs to.”
Sameek carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing. The mirrored ceiling caught every detail: her legs still trembling, cum glistening on her breasts and throat, his cock half-hard already, swinging heavy between them. He laid her in the centre and stood back, letting her see herself from above: sprawled, ruined, beautiful.
Priyanka’s voice was hoarse. “I look like I’ve been fucked by ten men.”
Sameek crawled over her, slow, predatory. “Only one tonight. But he’s not finished.”
He straddled her waist, knees pinning her arms lightly. His cock rested between her breasts, already thickening again.
“Look up,” he ordered.
She did. The ceiling showed everything: his balls resting on her sternum, his shaft sliding through the mess he had already left on her skin, her own eyes wide and hungry.
“Hold them together,” he said.
Priyanka cupped her breasts, pressed them tight around him. The slide was obscene: slick with cum and sweat, the head of his cock popping out at the top with every slow thrust.
Sameek’s voice dropped. “Tell the woman in the ceiling who this cock belongs to.”
She licked her lips, tasting him still. “It belongs to the slut on her back who can’t get enough. It belongs to me, Sameek. Only me.”
He rewarded her with a harder thrust, the head bumping her chin. “Good. Now open your mouth.”
She did. On the next stroke he pushed forward and slid between her lips. She moaned around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling.
Above them the mirror showed it perfectly: her mouth stretched wide, breasts squeezed tight, his hips rocking gently, feeding himself to her inch by inch.
Sameek groaned. “That’s it… watch yourself choke on me… watch how greedy you are…”
Priyanka’s eyes watered but she didn’t pull back. She took him deeper, throat working, saliva dripping down her chin onto her chest.
He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting them. “Turn over. Ass up. I want the mirrors to see everything.”
She rolled fast, knees under her, back arched, face turned so she could watch the side wall. The reflection was merciless: her pussy swollen and dripping, thighs shining, breasts hanging heavy.
Sameek knelt behind her. He didn’t enter yet. He just rubbed the head up and down her slit, coating himself again.
“Beg,” he said simply.
Priyanka’s voice cracked instantly. “Please, Sameek… fuck me… I need to feel you split me open again… I need to watch it happen…”
He pushed in slow. One long, unbroken slide until his hips met her ass. They both cried out.
The mirrors caught it from every angle: the stretch, the way her lips clung to him on the outstroke, the tremble in her thighs.
Sameek set a punishing rhythm. Skin slapping skin echoed in the glass chamber.
“Look at the ceiling,” he growled. “Watch your tits swing while I fuck you like a whore.”
She did. The sight pushed her over: breasts bouncing wildly, his cock disappearing into her again and again, her own mouth open in a constant silent scream.
“Sameek… I’m…”
“Not yet.” He pulled out completely, leaving her empty and clenching on nothing.
She sobbed in frustration. “Please!”
He flipped her onto her back again, hooked her knees over his elbows, spread her wide. The mirrors showed her pussy gaping, desperate.
“Look straight up,” he said. “Watch me own you.”
He slammed back in. The angle was brutal. Every thrust lifted her hips off the bed.
Priyanka’s hands flew to her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. “Harder… make it hurt… make me feel it tomorrow…”
He leaned forward, folding her nearly in half, pounding so deep she felt him in her throat.
Above them the ceiling mirror showed everything: her legs spread impossibly wide, his ass flexing with every thrust, her face twisted in pure, filthy ecstasy.
“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell every reflection what you are right now.”
“I’m your whore,” she screamed. “Your married whore who lives for this cock… who dreams of it when her husband is asleep beside her… I’m yours, Sameek… only yours…”
The words broke him. His rhythm stuttered. “Fuck… Priyanka…”
“Come inside me,” she begged. “Fill me… let the mirrors watch you breed me…”
He slammed deep and stayed there, hips jerking as he emptied himself. She felt every pulse, every hot flood.
Her own orgasm followed instantly, ripping through her so hard her vision went white for a second. She screamed his name until her voice cracked.
When it passed, he collapsed on top of her, both of them shaking. Cum leaked out around his softening cock, dripping onto the sheets.
Priyanka turned her head, met her own eyes in the side mirror. The woman looking back was flushed, wrecked, utterly claimed.
Sameek kissed her shoulder, lazy and possessive. “Still think you look like you’ve been fucked by ten men?”
She laughed, breathless. “No. Just one. But he fucked me like a hundred.”
He rolled off her, pulled her into his arms so they both faced the ceiling mirror. Their reflections lay tangled, glistening, perfect.
Priyanka traced a finger through the mess on her stomach. “We’re disgusting.”
“We’re beautiful,” he corrected.
She smiled, turned her face into his neck. “Next time… I want the camera.”
Sameek’s arms tightened around her. “Next time,” he promised against her hair, “we won’t just watch ourselves. We’ll make sure we never forget.”
The ceiling fan spun lazily above them, pushing warm air over their cooling skin.
Sameek lay on his back, one arm under Priyanka’s neck, the other tracing idle circles around her navel.
Cum still glistened on her belly and breasts; the mirrors multiplied the evidence into infinity.
Priyanka’s voice came out soft, almost shy after all the screaming.
“Do you remember the first time we ever spoke about the ‘train fantasy’?”
Sameek’s fingers stilled. A slow grin spread across his face.
“How could I forget? You were in that red cotton saree, sitting on the last seat of the ladies’ coach, pretending to read a book while messaging me filth on WhatsApp.”
Priyanka laughed, the sound low and husky.
“I was terrified someone would look over my shoulder. My heart was hammering so hard I thought the ticket checker would hear it.”
Sameek rolled onto his side, propped his head on his hand, eyes gleaming in the amber light.
“Tell me again what you wrote that day. Word for word. I still have the screenshots.”
She bit her lip, cheeks warming.
“I wrote… ‘Imagine this coach is almost empty. Only three people left after Howrah. You slip in from the gentlemen’s side when the lights go off. You stand behind my seat, hand over my mouth so I don’t scream when I feel your fingers sliding under my pallu…’”
Sameek’s voice dropped to that dangerous register she loved.
“And then you wrote, ‘I want you to fuck me right here, standing, while the train rocks. I want to bite my own pallu to stay quiet. I want your cum dripping down my thighs when I get off at my station so I feel you the whole auto ride home.’”
Priyanka shivered at the memory.
“I came twice on that train just typing it to you. My panties were ruined. I had to sit with my purse on my lap for the rest of the journey.”
Sameek leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth.
“I jerked off in the stinking train toilet reading your messages. Came so hard I saw stars. Almost missed my stop.”
She turned to face him fully, breasts brushing his chest.
“Do you know what I still think about from that night?”
“Tell me.”
“That I never got to feel your hand actually covering my mouth. That I never got to feel the real danger of someone walking in while you were inside me.”
Sameek’s eyes darkened.
“You still want that? The real thing?”
Priyanka’s breath hitched.
“I want the upgraded version. Sleeper coach. Lower berth. Night journey. You book the side lower opposite me like a stranger. Curtain half drawn. Everyone pretending to sleep. And then…”
She trailed off, suddenly shy again.
Sameek’s hand slid down between her legs, fingers gliding through the mess he had left.
“And then what, Devil Partner? Finish the sentence.”
Priyanka’s hips lifted into his touch without permission.
“And then you wait till the coach is snoring. You slide the curtain, crawl into my berth, lift my nighty just enough, and fuck me slow and silent while the train sways. Your palm over my mouth the whole time so I don’t wake the uncle above.”
Sameek pushed two fingers inside her, curling lazily.
“Keep going.”
She moaned softly.
“I want to feel the berth curtain brushing my cheek while you’re deep in me. I want to taste your fingers after they’ve been in my pussy. I want you to come inside me and then make me sit up straight, pull my nighty down, and go back to your berth like nothing happened. So that every time the train jerks I feel your cum shift inside me.”
Sameek added a third finger, stretching her gently.
“And when we reach the destination?”
Priyanka’s eyes fluttered.
“I want to walk past you in the crowd on the platform, look you dead in the eye, and mouth ‘thank you, stranger’ while your cum is still leaking into my panties.”
He groaned, cock already hardening against her thigh.
“Fuck, Priyanka. You say that like it’s just a fantasy. We could book tickets tomorrow.”
She laughed, breathless.
“My husband thinks I’m going to my cousin’s place in Bhubaneswar next month. Two nights, three days. AC two-tier.”
Sameek’s fingers stilled inside her.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.” She reached down, wrapped her hand around his fresh erection. “I even checked the train. It has those old curtains that don’t close fully. Perfect gap for watching.”
He kissed her hard, possessive.
“Then we’re doing it. But with one addition.”
“Tell me.”
He bit her lower lip.
“I’m going to make you come twice on that berth. Once with my cock, once with my fingers while I whisper exactly how many people are sleeping six feet away. And when I come inside you, you’re not allowed to clean up. Not in the nasty train toilet, not at the hotel. You’ll keep me inside you until we reach the hotel room and I fuck my cum back into you properly.”
Priyanka’s inner walls clenched around his fingers at the words.
“Promise?”
“Swear on Dojo,” he whispered, sliding his fingers out and painting her own wetness across her lips. She licked them clean without hesitation.
She looked up at the mirrored ceiling: two bodies already tangled again, reflections ready for the next round.
“Sameek?”
“Hmm?”
“Next time we do the train… I want you to record the audio on your phone. Just the sounds. The creaking berth, my muffled moans against your palm, the train wheels. So we can play it back in places like this and remember how close we came to getting caught.”
He rolled on top of her, cock nudging her entrance, eyes burning into hers and into every mirrored version of hers.
“Deal, Devil Partner. But only if you promise one thing.”
She arched up, taking the head of him inside her.
“Anything.”
“When we’re on that train and I’m buried balls-deep in you, you’ll look me in the eye and mouth the words we wrote that very first time.”
Priyanka smiled, wicked and devoted, and whispered against his lips:
“Thank you, stranger.”
Komal.
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