Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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But he didn’t linger long. Amit understood the delicate balance of pleasure, and he didn’t waste time before zeroing in on the apex of her desire.
 
His focus narrowed, the tip of his tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves at her clit.
 
It began slow, methodical, then with increasing speed and pressure.
 
Each pass of his tongue sent a fresh wave of pleasure radiating outward, making her inner muscles clench in anticipation.
 
She could feel the slickness of his saliva mixing with her own wetness, creating a frictionless glide that was maddeningly exquisite.
 
She could feel him, all of him, in every tiny movement.
 
Then, he changed his technique. He pursed his lips and sucked, drawing her clit into his mouth.
 
The pressure was immense, a concentrated point of suction that made her vision blur.
 
He wasn't just licking anymore; he was devouring her.
 
The act was no longer tender, it was primal, raw. His tongue continued its relentless dance, flicking and swirling in a rhythm that quickly became unbearable in its intensity.
 
His nose, pressed hard against her folds, added another point of stimulation, the friction a grounding counterpoint to the chaos his tongue was creating. Every movement sent her closer to the edge.
 
He delved lower then, his tongue spearing into her entrance, fucking her with it in shallow, teasing thrusts that mimicked the act she truly craved.
 
The dual sensations, the deep, probing penetration and the maddening attention to her clit, were almost too much to process.
 
Every inch of her seemed to come alive, ignited by the way his tongue slid in and out of her, a rhythm that felt like a prelude to something more violent, something wilder.
 
She squeezed her eyes shut, her world shrinking to the singular point of contact between his mouth and her pussy.
 
Every touch, every lick, felt like it was pulling her further into oblivion.
 
She tried to focus on Amit, on the man giving her this pleasure, on the scratch of his evening stubble against her inner thighs and the strength of his hands holding her in place.
 
But her mind, treacherous and hungry, betrayed her.
 
The image of Amit dissolved, replaced by one that was sharper, more vivid, and infinitely more potent.
 
It was Ravi.
 
The memory of him was so real, so consuming, that it felt like a ghost inside her body, haunting her senses with a potency she couldn’t escape.
 
It was Ravi’s head between her legs, not Amit’s.

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