Adultery The Rural Posting: Shipra's ordeal.

[Suraj76626]

Chapter 36: Part II


"Aahhh....mo...more...Ungghhhh...Deeper... yeahhhh....ohhhh...yes.."

 

While world outside the car was a smeared painting of passing streetlights and indistinct shadows, the inside of the dark cabin of the car, the universe had collapsed to the space between Shipra and Patode. The only constants were the low hum of the engine and Shipra's broken, breathless sounds.

 

A soft, leather-scented heat filled the cabin. Shipra was arched back against the passenger seat, which had been reclined into a desperate approximation of a bed. The elegant folds of her silk saree were in disarray, the pallu slipped from her shoulder and the main dbang bunched in a vibrant, crumpled pool around her waist, exposing the delicate skin of her trembling thighs and and the slick, pulsing heat between them, relentlessly pleasured by Patode’s thick, expert fingers

 

"O-oh god.." A shuddering exhalation, barely a whisper escaped Shipra's lips as another wave of sensation crashed over her. Her head turned restlessly on the headrest, her eyes squeezed shut, long dark lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. Her own hands clutched at nothing, fingers twisting into the cool leather of the seat, anchoring her as he swept her toward a precipice of pure, mindless ecstasy.

 

Patode's shadow fell over her, his presence an intoxicating blend of focus and raw need. While he controlled the stearing with his right hand, his left hand was buried between Shipra's thighs. His thumb circled the sensitive, swollen clit with a relentless, knowing rhythm, while two thick fingers delved deep into her wet, oozing cunt.

 

A fresh, sharp gasp escaped her as he crooked his fingers just so, hitting a spot that made her entire body jolt. "Fuckkkkkk....Where... are you... hmmmm... taking me...?" she managed, the question not only one of geography, but also of sensation. It was a plea and a surrender, her mind too clouded with pleasure to form a coherent thought.

 

The answer was another slow, deliberate curl of his fingers, a promise and a claim that made her ass bow off the seat trying to fill her itching love hole deeper and fuller. A low, guttural moan, "Unggggghhhhh...Oh god... Patode..." was torn from her throat. He was taking her to the very edge of herself, to a place where only his name existed, a mantra of pleasure and surrender choked out between her moans.

 

A cunning smile played on Patode's lips as he watched her come undone beneath his touch.He could feel the building tremor in her thighs, hear the sharp, pleading gasp that meant she was seconds away. And with a deliberate, teasing slowness, he slipped his fingers away, denying the climax she so desperately sought.

 

A frustrated cry tore from Shipra’s lips. "No... please, Patode," she begged, her voice strained.

 

She pushed herself up slowly on the seat, her expression a turbulent mix of raw need and profound disappointment. Her chest, sheathed in a thin white bra, rose and fell with her heavy breaths. The fabric was damp with sweat, strained taut by the weight of her heavy swollen breasts, and her hardened nipples pressed against the material, undeniable proof of the arousal that had been building for hours. 

 

It had started with his oral onslaught on her in the quiet of her office, a brazen beginning to this relentless evening. That was followed by what felt like an eternity of his torturous, fingering in the semi-darkness of the car, all while he drove them to some mysterious location. He had promised her a surprise, a night of new and thrilling experiences, but so far, the greatest thrill seemed to be his own controlled delay of her pleasure.

 

"Haha... I do love this desperation of yours, Shipra," Patode chuckled with his signature cocky smirk which Shipra was very familiar with, his dark velvety voice a cocktail of amusement and condescension. His eyes, glinting with predatory delight, roamed over her disheveled form before turning his attention back to the road.

 

The entire evening, Patode had been toying with her—pushing her, keeping her right at the edge but never letting her a release. It felt deliberate, almost as if he were winding her up for something wickedly scandalous.

 

Keeping his eyes on the road, he continued, "You know, denying you release really brings out that filthy little slut hiding underneath, doesn't it?" His voice dropped lower, rough with amusement. He glanced at her again, catching the mix of frustration and unspoken hunger burning in her eyes-a look that only seemed to feed his arrogance further.

 

Shipra didn't bother to adjust her saree or her paloo. She just rose up on the seat, her eyes filled with unquenched lust and body trembling with need. She leaned towards the driver's seat and quickly grabbed Patode's hard on above his trousers. "I am not the only one desperate here you cocky bastard," Shipra sneared as she whispered into Patode's ears his hand rubbing the entire length of his cock. "I can sense you can't hold yourself much longer either Patode. This thick meat of yours is really begging for some attention. You better hurry up with your surprise or I'll make you soil your pants right here," Shipra continued as she seductively unzipped his trouser and fished out is Patode's monstrous cock which was already oozing with pre cum. 

 

"Be patient my little minx," Patode replied, his voice was a low, possessive rumble. "We will be there shortly." His fingers, which had been tracing idle patterns on her shoulder, stilled. He turned to her momentarily and continued, "And with what I have in store for you there, you'll be experiencing the most soul satisfying orgasm, even notch higher than the one I wrung out of you the night I fucked you out in the open porch of my house. You remember that, don't you?" 

 

The memory, vivid and unbidden, sent a flush of heat across her skin. But before the feeling could fully form, his hand snapped up, tangling brutally in her hair and with a hard, deliberate push he shoved her head down towards his crotch. Her body moved instinctively, her lips parting just as the thick, musky head of his cock pressed against them. She took him in, the familiar taste of salt and power flooding her senses as he filled her mouth, pushing deep into her throat until her body convulsed with gag.




"And don't you forget your place, you horny, cheating bitch," he hissed, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. He held her there, immobile, her air cut off, her world narrowing to the suffocating thickness in her throat and the pressure of his hand. Spots danced behind her closed eyelids. "I am not like your lousy husband who ejaculates prematurely without satisfying his women," he spat the word out like a poison. 

 

He released his grip just enough for her to gasp a ragged, choking breath, the air burning its way back into her lungs. Her eyes, wet with reflexive tears, met his for a fleeting second before he guided her head back onto him, this time establishing a ruthless, rhythmic pace.

 

"Now," he commanded, his tone shifting to one of condescending authority. "Be a obedient little slut and get your favourite cock ready for the main event. That desperate cunt of yours won't be pacified until it's stuffed full and thoroughly ravaged by this monster dick of mine. Isn't that right?"

 

Releasing the grip from her hair Patode's hand slid down the curve of her spine to the full, protruding swell of her ass. He squeezed the firm flesh, possessively at first, then delivered a sharp, stinging spank that echoed in the close confines of the car. A sharp, muffled cry escaped her-a sound tangled equally in protest and pure, unadulterated pleasure. Driven by a hunger that shamed and exhilarated her, she began to move her head with a renewed, desperate energy, devouring his cock with the frantic devotion.



***********************************************


“You seem to be quite relaxed today,” Vikrant’s familiar, slightly gravelly voice broke through the hum of the video call. He leaned closer to his screen, studying her. She looked different—softer somehow—far removed from the tense, restless officer he had been speaking to over the past few days. “Let me guess—a breakthrough in Saad’s case? Or did you make some progress on your… personal cause?” 

 

Shrutika chuckled lightly, the sound carrying a tinge of fatigue yet undeniable relief. “I wouldn’t call it a breakthrough exactly,” she said, propping her chin on her forearm as she lay sprawled on her stomach across the hotel bed. Her phone was angled perfectly in front of her face, catching the messy elegance of her loose hair. A few strands brushed against her cheeks, and though she wore no makeup, there was a natural glow in her skin—a mixture of exhaustion and quiet satisfaction. “But yes,” she added with a bright, almost girlish smile, “I did make some progress—on both fronts.”

 

Vikrant leaned back into his recliner, a grin spreading across his face. “See? I told you. It was only a matter of time before you found your footing. You’ll crack this case soon—and maybe fulfill the real reason you took this posting, too.”

 

“I’m starting to get used to the field work. The pressure,” Shrutika mused, her gaze drifting for a moment. “The lead I found today… it feels significant. And today... well, something happened that makes me think this case is more connected to my own mission than I ever realized.”

 

“Now that would be a real bonus,” Vikrant said, his tone warm but curious. “So what happened today that gave you that feeling? Care to elaborate?”

 

For the next several minutes, Shrutika unfolded the day’s events—layer by layer, moment by moment. She spoke with excitement, her hands occasionally shaping the air; she paused for dramatic effect, her voice dipping low; and at times, a flicker of anger sharpened her tone. Vikrant listened intently, interjecting with thoughtful questions and insights of his own.

 

“And finally,” she said, drawing in a deep breath before exhaling dramatically, “for once, I didn’t get grilled by the DGP when I reported my progress.” She laughed, holding up her phone and flipping onto her back, the camera angle changing to give Vikrant an aerial view of her face. “That was the biggest relief.”

 

"So what’s next? With your experience in the cyber cell, it shouldn’t be too hard to track down this Bhiva fellow, I suppose," Vikrant asked, his voice carrying that familiar mix of curiosity and admiration.

 

"Well, it’s not that simple," Shrutika replied, her tone measured, thoughtful. "These new-age criminals are clever — they know every trick in the book to stay off the grid. But with a few favors from my old contacts in the cyber cell, I’ll get a lead soon enough. In the meantime, I’ll focus on my personal mission too… especially now that I’ve got some lucky links."

 

"You mean unlucky links," Vikrant corrected with a small, knowing smirk.

 

"Yeah… unfortunately," Shrutika murmured, her voice dipping lower, a hint of regret lacing her words. "If I want to get what I’m after, some people are bound to get hurt."

 

"There’s always collateral damage, Shruti. You can’t save everyone," Vikrant said gently, then, sensing the shift in her mood, his tone lightened, teasing. "But you can help your loving husband. I wouldn’t mind being your lucky one tonight… especially if you ditched that baggy t-shirt and gave me a peek at that sexy officer’s body of yours." He winked, mischief in his eyes.

 

Shrutika’s lips curved into a playful smile. "Ohhh… you mean like this?"





In one fluid motion, she sat up on the bed, adjusted her hair, and pulled her oversized t-shirt slightly upward — just enough to reveal her toned stomach, the smooth curve of her thighs, and a tantalizing glimpse of her panties. She switched to back camera and pointed it towards the mirror. The reflection in the mirror looked bold yet effortless.

 

She leaned back, heart fluttering as she waited for Vikrant’s reaction — the rush of mischief and heat mingling deliciously in her chest.

 

His reply was almost instantaneous. "A promising start, Officer. But I think you can do… better."

 

A slow, knowing smile curved across her lips as she rolled smoothly onto her stomach again, her movements unhurried and feline. With a graceful lift of her torso and a subtle arch in her back, she brought the phone up, switching to selfie mode.

 

She angled her head, letting her hair tumble to one side, the camera catching the delicate pout of her lips and the flutter of her lashes. Her expression was a blend of playful innocence and unmistakable temptation — the kind she knew always made Vikrant’s breath hitch for a moment.

 

This time, though, the angle was deliberately framed to capture the perfect curve of her round, supple ass, barely covered by a flimsy strip of light-purple thong which did more to accentuate her sensuality than conceal it.




"Better?" she questioned, a playful spark in her eyes as she bit her lower lip. She knew her husband too well — knew how his mind would trip over itself the moment he saw this sexy pose. He adored every inch of her, but her ass, that curve, that softness… it was his weakness. And she enjoyed every second of holding that power over him.

 

"Fuck, Shruti... I really miss that delicious ass of yours," Vikrant responded, his voice becoming heavy with lust. "Why don't you lose the thong and give me a close-up, babe," he pleaded, his hand rubbing his quickly hardening cock over his boxers.

 

Shrutika arched a brow, her hips swaying just enough to make her point as she teased, “I don’t mind losing the thong, dear hubby… but I’ve ordered food. The waiter might knock on the door any moment. You want me to be naked when he comes?" Shrutika teased, shaking her ass a little, her voice laced with a mix of mischief and challenge.

 

"I don't mind, unless you keep the video feed on," Vikrant spoke cockily winking at Shrutika, fully aware she wouldn’t dare cross that line—yet still daring her to.

 

“Oh, really?” Shrutika brought the phone closer, her face filling the frame with a slow, seductive smile. “So you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with other men? Maybe led them on a little?”

 

“Why would I?” Vikrant shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “It’s not a crime to have a little fun to spice things up. And now that you’re out doing fieldwork, you might have to use your feminine side when force doesn’t work.” He delivered the line casually, but his eyes watched her carefully, knowing well the kind of spark it would ignite.

 

“Yeah, like your secretary, you mean,” Shrutika said, giving Vikrant a stern look, her tone a mix of jealousy and accusation. “I know why that bitch keeps flirting with you—always wearing deep-neck blouses and tight leggings to keep you entertained and stop you from transferring her. Isn’t that right?”

 

"Shruti dear..." Vikrant sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Everyone has their own motives and agenda. Yes, she dresses to impress. But that doesn't make her incompetent. She knows how to get things done in her favour. Using femininity isn't wrong in itself. That's all I'm saying." His tone shifted from playful to firm, as if he were trying to steer the conversation back to reason.

 

"I know but I am in a totally different situation, Vikrant," she countered sharply. "I'm not dealing with educated white collor men. I'm dealing with cunning criminals, power-hungry politicians, and men who don't understand boundaries. They see flirtation as consent. They mistake confidence for invitation." She paused, her voice softer but edged with fear she rarely expressed. "I understand using my femininity can get things done but what if I try to use my charm to push something through... and lose control of the situation? What if I get trapped?"

 

“It’s just a suggestion, Shruti. I’m not saying you should resort to those tactics,” Vikrant replied gently, sensing the anxiety behind her words. “You’re smart enough to navigate things without getting your hands dirty. I believe that.”

 

He took a breath, choosing his next words carefully. “But having said that… you got yourself transferred there for a reason. And you yourself told me you’re willing to go to any extent to reach your goal. Sometimes that might mean sacrificing a bit of your self-esteem, losing a little control, or compromising on certain values.”

 

His voice softened with sincerity. “All I’m trying to say is—I support you in whatever decision you take. If I were in your place, I wouldn’t leave any stone unturned to achieve my objective.”

 

"Hmmm," Shrutika nodded pondering a little on Vikrant's point of view. "I get your point Vikrant and I stand with what I said. I am here on a mission and I'll got to any extend to ensure it's a success. If it comes to sacrificing my ethics or using my femininity to play dirty I'll resort to that too. Thanks for clearing your stand on it Vikrant. It's quite a relief knowing you'll understand and support my decisions." Shrutika face lightened up again with a soft smile.

 

“Always, my love,” Vikrant murmured, a slow smile curving across his lips as the familiar glint of mischief flickered back into his eyes. He leaned a little closer to the camera, voice dipping into that teasing, “Now… where were we? If I remember correctly, I was just about to get an unrestricted view of my gorgeous wife’s sexy ass—and maybe a lot more. What do you say, babes?”

 

Shrutika felt the heat rising in her cheeks, the playful arrogance in his tone sending a flutter down her spine. She was just about to give him a matching smirk, maybe even turn around and let him see exactly what he was asking for, when—

 

Ding-dong.

 

The sudden chime of the doorbell sliced through the moment.

 

"I think the food is here," Shrutika murmured as the doorbell chimed again. She glanced back at the screen, catching her own reflection for a second before biting her lower lip-half in excitement, half in mischief.

 

A slow, playful grin tugged at her lips. "Maybe I'll test my flirting skills on the cute waiter," she teased, tilting her head just enough to let her hair fall over one shoulder.

 

Before Vikrant could get a word in, she held up a finger, eyes glimmering. "Stay quiet, mister. Let's see if you can actually handle what you were suggesting earlier."

 

She flipped to the back camera and set the phone on the bedside table, angling it precisely toward the hotel door so Vikrant wouldn't miss a second. His breath caught-she could almost feel it through the screen.

 

On her way to the door she cautiously tugged at the hem of her long T-shirt, making sure it fell low enough to keep her modest. It covered what it needed to, but her long, toned legs remained completely bare—smooth, elegant, impossible not to notice. The thought of a stranger catching even a fleeting glimpse of her like this sent a shiver of heat up her spine.

 

The air in the room shifted-anticipation, tension, a hint of defiance. Vikrant watched from the screen, breath tightening as the moment unfolded. Something in the way she stood—half shy, half daring—made his heartbeat kick up, a rush of excitement pulsing through him. He shifted slightly where he sat, unable to look away.

 

As Shrutika tiptoed towards the door, a warm, nervous rush spread through her body—an unfamiliar blend of fear, thrill, and a curiosity she hadn’t expected to feel so intensely. Reaching the door, she paused briefly. She drew in a steadying breath, then glanced over her shoulder toward the camera-silent acknowledgment to Vikrant.

I’m doing this.

 

Her fingers found the latch, and the quiet click of the lock echoed sharply in the still room before she slowly pulled the door open.

Continued to next post......