Yesterday, 05:19 PM
(CHAPTER CONTD)
THE NEXT MORNING
The first thing Hemant felt was the warm, solid weight of a body against his side. The second was the distinct, musky scent of sex hanging in the air—dried sweat, spent arousal, her. He opened his eyes to the panoramic view of the Mumbai coast, the morning painting the sea in streaks of white and gold. Then he looked down.
Ananya lay curled into him, deep in slumber. Naked. The evidence of last night was painted on her skin, the imprint of his fingers on her hips, a love bite near her neck. His work of art. A slow, satisfied smile touched his lips. This was real.
He slid out from under her, the cool air hitting his skin. He pulled on his boxers and padded into the master bathroom, the marble floor cool under his feet. He grabbed his toothbrush, the mechanical action quiet in the vast, silent space. The water from the tap was a cold shock.
Then he heard it. The shower.
His head snapped to the right. The glass door of the massive walk-in shower was fogged, steamed up from within. But through the condensation, he could see them. Two figures.
His heart stopped. The toothbrush clattered into the sink.
No.
Sonarika. Pressed against the wet tile, her arms wrapped around Vikram’s neck, her legs locked around his waist. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry as he thrust into her, his powerful thighs driving her body up the wall with each brutal pump. Water sluiced over their tangled forms. Then they shifted. Vikram turned her around, bending her over, his hands gripping the swell of her hips. Through the foamed glass, Hemant saw the blurry, obscene outline of his thick cock plunging into her from behind.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The wet, rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh, louder than the shower spray, filled his skull.
Hemant’s vision tunneled. Rage, white-hot and pure, flooded his veins. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached. It’s not real. It’s not real.
He counted. One. Two. Three.
He opened his eyes.
The shower was empty. The glass door was clear, dry. The only sound was the drip of the tap.
A hallucination. Another fucking ghost from his shattered mind. But the fury it left behind was physical, a coiling serpent in his gut. He braced his hands on the sink, head hanging, breathing ragged. That’s when he felt it—the insistent, throbbing pressure against his boxers. A raging, morning-hard erection.
At first, he thought it was a sick response to the vision. But no. This was his own. A primal, angry need. A demand to expel the poison, to reclaim his reality with something raw and tangible.
He didn’t hesitate.
He walked out of the bathroom, his cock straining against the cotton. Ananya was still asleep, a peaceful goddess on the rumpled sheets. He stood over her, looking at her nude form, the gentle curve of her ass, the dark hair fanned across the pillow. Not a ghost. Flesh.
He spat into his palm, slicking the swollen, angry head of his cock. He climbed onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips. He leaned over, his shadow falling across her face.
Ananya's eyes fluttered open, soft with sleep. Hemant positioned himself. With one hand, he guided his thick crown to her entrance, still slick from their night. With the other, he gripped her hip.
He pushed.
"Heman—AAAHHH!!"
Her scream was sharp, torn from her by the sudden, deep, unprepared penetration. Her body went rigid, her back arching off the bed, her eyes flying wide with shock and a flash of pain.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t whisper. He buried himself to the hilt in one relentless stroke, feeling her tight, sleepy channel stretch and clench around him in startled protest. Then he pulled back and drove in again. Hard.
This was not sensuous. This was exorcism.
Within three thrusts, he found a brutal, pounding rhythm. His knees dug into the mattress, his hips a piston.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The bed rocked violently in its suspension. Ananya’s initial scream dissolved into ragged, breathless cries.
"Aahh!... aaahh!... aaaahhh!"
He kneeled up, his own torso a tower of tense muscle. He hooked his hands under her hips, lifting her lower body clean off the bed. Her back bent at a severe angle, her weight supported only by his grip and the point where they were joined. He fucked her like that, mid-air, each downward slam of his hips driving her body into a jerking, helpless dance.
"Ahhh… mmm… I wouldn’t mind… Ahh!… waking up like this… aahhhh"
She managed between his savage thrusts, her voice a broken mix of pain and dawning, intense pleasure.
"Then call me…" he grunted, the words torn from him with the force of his movements.
"Uugghh… ghhh… Whenever you want me… ghhh… rgghhh…"
He intensified. The pace became feverish, a blur of motion. He felt like he was trying to drill through her, through the mattress, through the floor. To fuck his way out of his own skull. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the sheets, her head thrashing. It was too much, too deep, too hard. She felt split open, impaled, owned.
His mind flashed—the shower glass, the blurred shapes, the sound of Vikram’s balls slapping against her. A guttural sound ripped from Hemant’s throat. He pulled out, his cock glistening, and in one fluid motion rolled them both off the bed.
He caught her before she hit the floor, his arms banding around her, keeping her impaled as he stood. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his sweaty shoulder. He carried her, stumbling, to the massive floor-to-ceiling window that faced the sea.
He pressed her back against the cool glass. He thrust upward, burying himself in her again. The glass shuddered. Ananya’s eyes, wide and wild, looked past his shoulder at the vast, sun-drenched ocean. Each powerful drive of his hips smashed her body against the window. Her sweat began to smear the glass. His own sweat dripped from his chin onto her breasts.
The hallucination played again. Sonarika wrapped around Vikram. His vision tinged red.
He spun her around, bending her over, her palms slapping against the glass for support. He entered her from behind in one brutal, reaming thrust. Standing doggy. He set a new, punishing pace.
Smack. Smack. SMACK.
The sound of his hips impacting her buttocks was obscenely loud, each hit making the firm, young flesh of her ass ripple and redden.
The room was a sauna of their exertions. Sweat poured off them, making their skin gleam in the morning light, making his grip on her hips slippery. He was a machine of rage and need. Ananya could barely stand; her knees trembled, her moans were continuous, a high, desperate melody. She was beyond thought, reduced to pure sensation—the burn of the stretch, the deep, punishing pleasure of his length scbanging her most sensitive spots, the shocking intensity of his possession.
He felt her inner muscles begin to flutter, a frantic, pre-orgasmic pulse.
"I’m… I’m close…" she sobbed, her forehead against the glass.
"CUM!" he commanded, hammering into her.
"CUM FOR ME!"
It was an order her body couldn’t disobey. Her climax hit like a seizure. Her whole body stiffened, a silent scream on her lips as her pussy clamped down on him in a series of violent, milking spasms. The intense, rhythmic tightening was the final trigger.
Hemant saw Vikram’s triumphant face behind his eyes. He heard Sonarika’s promise. “Can’t wait to be pregnant with your child.”
With a final, guttural, animalistic roar that felt ripped from the core of his being, he slammed home and exploded.
"Rraarrrrrgghhh!"
His hips stuttered, grinding deep. He could feel it—the violent, pulsing eruption from his balls, the hot, copious flood of his release firing up his shaft and jetting deep into her clenching depths.
Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.
Each forceful clench of his buttocks pumped more of his seed into her, a primal, physical claim against the ghost of Vikram’s.
"…rrraaaaaggghh!"
He held there, buried to the root, pulsing, pouring himself into her until he was utterly spent. They collapsed together in a heap on the sun-warmed floor, a tangle of slick limbs and ragged breath. The only sound was the ocean outside and their own gasping.
After a long moment, Ananya shifted, rolling weakly to lay her head on his heaving chest. She traced a finger through the sweat on his sternum, her voice a husky, awed whisper.
"You rocked me Hemant…" she breathed, her eyes heavy-lidded and sated.
"You rocked me real good!"
Hemant took a short nap after that. But when he woke up , he found the bed to be empty. Hemant got up and walked to the bathroom as he heard the sound of the shower. There , across that glass wall of the bathroom , a nude Ananya was bathing , her perfect petite form shining being drenched in water. Hemant started to have a reaction as his cock once again pulsed to life. Even he himself was astonished on the way his body was waking up. That was the moment Ananya noticed Hemant standing with a boner as she grinned and slid the shower door open.
"Mhmm. Hard again already? Should I be flattered?" She asked him over the sound of the water washing away the soap from her skin.
"Oh yeah. Your body is amazing."
Hemant responded to her, turning her head towards him and kissing her passionately.Ananya rubbed her ass against his cock, making him moan into her sexy mouth. She turned around, wrapped her arms around his neck and resumed kissing him. He moved his hands to her ass, loving the feel of the firm cheeks in his hands.
"Mhmmm, Fuck me again Hemant! I need you to fuck me....one more time...."
She moaned, rubbing her body against his, making him dizzy with desire. Hemant easily lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed her body against the shower wall, and slowly pushed his cock into her.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH, FUCK! WHY DOES IT FEEL SO GOOD EVERYTIME!!!! AHHHH!"
The petite nepostar screamed as his cock pierced her folds. Ananya's pussy was always so damn tight, but she got so wet. It was a wonderful combination. As the intense tightness wrapped itself around his cock, his eyes were forced shut, his entire body revelling in the pleasure bursting through it.
"Ohhh, fuck!"
Hemant shouted, feeling her walls adjust to his size. He firmly held her ass in his hands as he slowly fucked her. Their lips met once again, as hot as ever sending shivers through him.
"Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!"
Ananya screamed as Hemant felt her pussy loosened a little, allowing him to be able to move faster within her. He lowered his head and snatched her left tit into his mouth. Ananya grabbed Hemant's head hard, holding on for dear life as his cock and tongue drove her closer and closer to another orgasm.
"Ahh! FUCK ME, FUCK ME!! Ohhh I love your cock." Shouted the movie sensation.
She was so damn sexy, her body felt amazing against him. Her pussy was tight, wet and so fucken hot, he felt that his dick would melt inside of her. Hemant returned his lips to hers, only to find her mouth as hot as the rest of her body. This Bollywood hottie was a little sexpot!
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, OHHHH FUCK! I'M CUMMING! DON'T STOP!!"
Hemant had no intention to. He held on tightly to her body as he sped up his fucking. The sound of ther bodies slamming into each other could easily be heard over the sounds of the shower.
"AHHHHHHH!" She continued moaning.
He felt her pussy spasm and tighten around his cock.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!"
She screamed as she came hard. Feeling her cum was all it took to send him over the edge.
"OHHHH!" Hemant grunted as he sent his cum spiralling deep into her pussy.
"FUCKI!! FUCK!"
Hemant continued to curse and groan as the orgasm he was feeling nearly knocked him to his feet. It took all he had in him not to fall. After all he was still holding THE Ananya Panday up by her ass. Hemant held her against the wall as they kissed. They finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Ananya looked particularly giddy after this last tryst.
As Ananya was wrapped in a towel sitting in the bed. She was looking at her green party dress , contemplating on how to wear it back. Hemant noticed her concern and caressed her.
"You should wear something comfortable....I can get you some spare clothes from Anju's closet"
"Would she mind me taking her clothes?"
"I don't think she will be mad knowing that ANANYA PANDAY wore one of her clothes"
Hemant smiled as he left the room to go downstairs. Hemant walked down shirtless with wearing his track pants. Tara was near the kitchen when she noticed him and she had a blush face on the entire time.
"Good morning sir"
"Good morning Tara......did you sleep well"
"Definitely did sir.......but I wish I can say the same to you but......you appear quiet tired....."
Her cheeks were red when she said that. Hemant giggled in shyness as he responded.
"You didn't......hear anything did you?"
"Oh no sir....absolutely not.....this house was definitely built with privacy on mind.....every room is soundproof space....."
"Thanks......I am not sure Ananya will be around for breakfast but.....atleast prepare some tea for her..."
"Sure sir"
"I need to give her some spare clothes"
Saying that , Hemant walked away to the corner bedroom facing the backyard meant for Anjali. He checked in her wardrobe. He was somewhat aware that Anjali had similar physical appearance to Ananya so her clothes will match her body. He picked up a jeans shorts and an old t shirt that she barely wears now and took it to the upper bedroom.
As Hemant dressed up , wearing a silk creamy shirt and black blazer pants , applying some conditioner to his newly auburn colored hair. Ananya walked out from the bathroom wearing Anjali's spare clothes. And it perfectly suited her , making her appear sexy in many ways.
![[Image: Gemini-Generated-Image-upu9k3upu9k3upu9.png]](https://i.ibb.co/cKR8t9Cg/Gemini-Generated-Image-upu9k3upu9k3upu9.png)
"I figured it would suit you"
"This seems old.....I reckon she is not wearing this these days"
"You guessed right.....she used to wear this when she first came to us to stay"
"Well....she definitely has good fashion sense"
"I guess I should some credit should be given to Sonarika.....she was an inspiration for her in that department......always knew how to dress on the occasion"
The mention of Sonarika's name changed Hemant's expression. Ananya noticed the pain and the drifting of uncertainty in his eyes. Ananya walked to him and caressed his face.
"I am sorry to bring her back into your mind......believe me......she failed you as a wife and a partner"
"You may be right..."
"But I assure you....you are in a better place now.....Pranitha will absolutely love you..."
"Is that so?"
"Look I know her in many ways.....and judging by what I experienced last night....I can tell you she will be a gateway to a life a man like you really deserves..."
"And what if I want simple things..."
"Come on Hemant....you are not simple.....and you definitely don't desire simple.....believe me....this is a start.....of something truly.......spectacular..."
"Maybe....we'll see.."
Once they were dressed , they arrived downstairs as Tara prepared them tea and a light breakfast. Ananya consumed it and appreciated Tara for taking her fitness into account.
"Thank you for the low carb Tara"
"Its my pleasure Mam , I figured you would not consume heavy food considering your workout routine that celebrities follow"
"An astute observation lady"
"She definitely is good at that" Hemant says appreciating Tara's dedication.
Tara on the other hand was calmly observing. Seeing the switch in Hemant , how the man who was grieving and mourning his broken family now had the glow of an awakening. The more she noticed him , the more she realized he was changing. THE Michael King was coming out of the surface and she was definitely feeling the shift. As Ananya and Hemant left , Tara went to her desk , picking out a file she had made on Michael King. In it were old images , relics of a past and wounds long forgotten. As Tara looked at them , her focus and determination were fuelled as she braced for the events that will come when Michael King fully awakens.
(TO BE CONTD)
The first thing Hemant felt was the warm, solid weight of a body against his side. The second was the distinct, musky scent of sex hanging in the air—dried sweat, spent arousal, her. He opened his eyes to the panoramic view of the Mumbai coast, the morning painting the sea in streaks of white and gold. Then he looked down.
Ananya lay curled into him, deep in slumber. Naked. The evidence of last night was painted on her skin, the imprint of his fingers on her hips, a love bite near her neck. His work of art. A slow, satisfied smile touched his lips. This was real.
He slid out from under her, the cool air hitting his skin. He pulled on his boxers and padded into the master bathroom, the marble floor cool under his feet. He grabbed his toothbrush, the mechanical action quiet in the vast, silent space. The water from the tap was a cold shock.
Then he heard it. The shower.
His head snapped to the right. The glass door of the massive walk-in shower was fogged, steamed up from within. But through the condensation, he could see them. Two figures.
His heart stopped. The toothbrush clattered into the sink.
No.
Sonarika. Pressed against the wet tile, her arms wrapped around Vikram’s neck, her legs locked around his waist. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry as he thrust into her, his powerful thighs driving her body up the wall with each brutal pump. Water sluiced over their tangled forms. Then they shifted. Vikram turned her around, bending her over, his hands gripping the swell of her hips. Through the foamed glass, Hemant saw the blurry, obscene outline of his thick cock plunging into her from behind.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The wet, rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh, louder than the shower spray, filled his skull.
Hemant’s vision tunneled. Rage, white-hot and pure, flooded his veins. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached. It’s not real. It’s not real.
He counted. One. Two. Three.
He opened his eyes.
The shower was empty. The glass door was clear, dry. The only sound was the drip of the tap.
A hallucination. Another fucking ghost from his shattered mind. But the fury it left behind was physical, a coiling serpent in his gut. He braced his hands on the sink, head hanging, breathing ragged. That’s when he felt it—the insistent, throbbing pressure against his boxers. A raging, morning-hard erection.
At first, he thought it was a sick response to the vision. But no. This was his own. A primal, angry need. A demand to expel the poison, to reclaim his reality with something raw and tangible.
He didn’t hesitate.
He walked out of the bathroom, his cock straining against the cotton. Ananya was still asleep, a peaceful goddess on the rumpled sheets. He stood over her, looking at her nude form, the gentle curve of her ass, the dark hair fanned across the pillow. Not a ghost. Flesh.
He spat into his palm, slicking the swollen, angry head of his cock. He climbed onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips. He leaned over, his shadow falling across her face.
Ananya's eyes fluttered open, soft with sleep. Hemant positioned himself. With one hand, he guided his thick crown to her entrance, still slick from their night. With the other, he gripped her hip.
He pushed.
"Heman—AAAHHH!!"
Her scream was sharp, torn from her by the sudden, deep, unprepared penetration. Her body went rigid, her back arching off the bed, her eyes flying wide with shock and a flash of pain.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t whisper. He buried himself to the hilt in one relentless stroke, feeling her tight, sleepy channel stretch and clench around him in startled protest. Then he pulled back and drove in again. Hard.
This was not sensuous. This was exorcism.
Within three thrusts, he found a brutal, pounding rhythm. His knees dug into the mattress, his hips a piston.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The bed rocked violently in its suspension. Ananya’s initial scream dissolved into ragged, breathless cries.
"Aahh!... aaahh!... aaaahhh!"
He kneeled up, his own torso a tower of tense muscle. He hooked his hands under her hips, lifting her lower body clean off the bed. Her back bent at a severe angle, her weight supported only by his grip and the point where they were joined. He fucked her like that, mid-air, each downward slam of his hips driving her body into a jerking, helpless dance.
"Ahhh… mmm… I wouldn’t mind… Ahh!… waking up like this… aahhhh"
She managed between his savage thrusts, her voice a broken mix of pain and dawning, intense pleasure.
"Then call me…" he grunted, the words torn from him with the force of his movements.
"Uugghh… ghhh… Whenever you want me… ghhh… rgghhh…"
He intensified. The pace became feverish, a blur of motion. He felt like he was trying to drill through her, through the mattress, through the floor. To fuck his way out of his own skull. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the sheets, her head thrashing. It was too much, too deep, too hard. She felt split open, impaled, owned.
His mind flashed—the shower glass, the blurred shapes, the sound of Vikram’s balls slapping against her. A guttural sound ripped from Hemant’s throat. He pulled out, his cock glistening, and in one fluid motion rolled them both off the bed.
He caught her before she hit the floor, his arms banding around her, keeping her impaled as he stood. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his sweaty shoulder. He carried her, stumbling, to the massive floor-to-ceiling window that faced the sea.
He pressed her back against the cool glass. He thrust upward, burying himself in her again. The glass shuddered. Ananya’s eyes, wide and wild, looked past his shoulder at the vast, sun-drenched ocean. Each powerful drive of his hips smashed her body against the window. Her sweat began to smear the glass. His own sweat dripped from his chin onto her breasts.
The hallucination played again. Sonarika wrapped around Vikram. His vision tinged red.
He spun her around, bending her over, her palms slapping against the glass for support. He entered her from behind in one brutal, reaming thrust. Standing doggy. He set a new, punishing pace.
Smack. Smack. SMACK.
The sound of his hips impacting her buttocks was obscenely loud, each hit making the firm, young flesh of her ass ripple and redden.
The room was a sauna of their exertions. Sweat poured off them, making their skin gleam in the morning light, making his grip on her hips slippery. He was a machine of rage and need. Ananya could barely stand; her knees trembled, her moans were continuous, a high, desperate melody. She was beyond thought, reduced to pure sensation—the burn of the stretch, the deep, punishing pleasure of his length scbanging her most sensitive spots, the shocking intensity of his possession.
He felt her inner muscles begin to flutter, a frantic, pre-orgasmic pulse.
"I’m… I’m close…" she sobbed, her forehead against the glass.
"CUM!" he commanded, hammering into her.
"CUM FOR ME!"
It was an order her body couldn’t disobey. Her climax hit like a seizure. Her whole body stiffened, a silent scream on her lips as her pussy clamped down on him in a series of violent, milking spasms. The intense, rhythmic tightening was the final trigger.
Hemant saw Vikram’s triumphant face behind his eyes. He heard Sonarika’s promise. “Can’t wait to be pregnant with your child.”
With a final, guttural, animalistic roar that felt ripped from the core of his being, he slammed home and exploded.
"Rraarrrrrgghhh!"
His hips stuttered, grinding deep. He could feel it—the violent, pulsing eruption from his balls, the hot, copious flood of his release firing up his shaft and jetting deep into her clenching depths.
Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.
Each forceful clench of his buttocks pumped more of his seed into her, a primal, physical claim against the ghost of Vikram’s.
"…rrraaaaaggghh!"
He held there, buried to the root, pulsing, pouring himself into her until he was utterly spent. They collapsed together in a heap on the sun-warmed floor, a tangle of slick limbs and ragged breath. The only sound was the ocean outside and their own gasping.
After a long moment, Ananya shifted, rolling weakly to lay her head on his heaving chest. She traced a finger through the sweat on his sternum, her voice a husky, awed whisper.
"You rocked me Hemant…" she breathed, her eyes heavy-lidded and sated.
"You rocked me real good!"
Hemant took a short nap after that. But when he woke up , he found the bed to be empty. Hemant got up and walked to the bathroom as he heard the sound of the shower. There , across that glass wall of the bathroom , a nude Ananya was bathing , her perfect petite form shining being drenched in water. Hemant started to have a reaction as his cock once again pulsed to life. Even he himself was astonished on the way his body was waking up. That was the moment Ananya noticed Hemant standing with a boner as she grinned and slid the shower door open.
"Mhmm. Hard again already? Should I be flattered?" She asked him over the sound of the water washing away the soap from her skin.
"Oh yeah. Your body is amazing."
Hemant responded to her, turning her head towards him and kissing her passionately.Ananya rubbed her ass against his cock, making him moan into her sexy mouth. She turned around, wrapped her arms around his neck and resumed kissing him. He moved his hands to her ass, loving the feel of the firm cheeks in his hands.
"Mhmmm, Fuck me again Hemant! I need you to fuck me....one more time...."
She moaned, rubbing her body against his, making him dizzy with desire. Hemant easily lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed her body against the shower wall, and slowly pushed his cock into her.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH, FUCK! WHY DOES IT FEEL SO GOOD EVERYTIME!!!! AHHHH!"
The petite nepostar screamed as his cock pierced her folds. Ananya's pussy was always so damn tight, but she got so wet. It was a wonderful combination. As the intense tightness wrapped itself around his cock, his eyes were forced shut, his entire body revelling in the pleasure bursting through it.
"Ohhh, fuck!"
Hemant shouted, feeling her walls adjust to his size. He firmly held her ass in his hands as he slowly fucked her. Their lips met once again, as hot as ever sending shivers through him.
"Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!"
Ananya screamed as Hemant felt her pussy loosened a little, allowing him to be able to move faster within her. He lowered his head and snatched her left tit into his mouth. Ananya grabbed Hemant's head hard, holding on for dear life as his cock and tongue drove her closer and closer to another orgasm.
"Ahh! FUCK ME, FUCK ME!! Ohhh I love your cock." Shouted the movie sensation.
She was so damn sexy, her body felt amazing against him. Her pussy was tight, wet and so fucken hot, he felt that his dick would melt inside of her. Hemant returned his lips to hers, only to find her mouth as hot as the rest of her body. This Bollywood hottie was a little sexpot!
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, OHHHH FUCK! I'M CUMMING! DON'T STOP!!"
Hemant had no intention to. He held on tightly to her body as he sped up his fucking. The sound of ther bodies slamming into each other could easily be heard over the sounds of the shower.
"AHHHHHHH!" She continued moaning.
He felt her pussy spasm and tighten around his cock.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!"
She screamed as she came hard. Feeling her cum was all it took to send him over the edge.
"OHHHH!" Hemant grunted as he sent his cum spiralling deep into her pussy.
"FUCKI!! FUCK!"
Hemant continued to curse and groan as the orgasm he was feeling nearly knocked him to his feet. It took all he had in him not to fall. After all he was still holding THE Ananya Panday up by her ass. Hemant held her against the wall as they kissed. They finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Ananya looked particularly giddy after this last tryst.
As Ananya was wrapped in a towel sitting in the bed. She was looking at her green party dress , contemplating on how to wear it back. Hemant noticed her concern and caressed her.
"You should wear something comfortable....I can get you some spare clothes from Anju's closet"
"Would she mind me taking her clothes?"
"I don't think she will be mad knowing that ANANYA PANDAY wore one of her clothes"
Hemant smiled as he left the room to go downstairs. Hemant walked down shirtless with wearing his track pants. Tara was near the kitchen when she noticed him and she had a blush face on the entire time.
"Good morning sir"
"Good morning Tara......did you sleep well"
"Definitely did sir.......but I wish I can say the same to you but......you appear quiet tired....."
Her cheeks were red when she said that. Hemant giggled in shyness as he responded.
"You didn't......hear anything did you?"
"Oh no sir....absolutely not.....this house was definitely built with privacy on mind.....every room is soundproof space....."
"Thanks......I am not sure Ananya will be around for breakfast but.....atleast prepare some tea for her..."
"Sure sir"
"I need to give her some spare clothes"
Saying that , Hemant walked away to the corner bedroom facing the backyard meant for Anjali. He checked in her wardrobe. He was somewhat aware that Anjali had similar physical appearance to Ananya so her clothes will match her body. He picked up a jeans shorts and an old t shirt that she barely wears now and took it to the upper bedroom.
As Hemant dressed up , wearing a silk creamy shirt and black blazer pants , applying some conditioner to his newly auburn colored hair. Ananya walked out from the bathroom wearing Anjali's spare clothes. And it perfectly suited her , making her appear sexy in many ways.
"I figured it would suit you"
"This seems old.....I reckon she is not wearing this these days"
"You guessed right.....she used to wear this when she first came to us to stay"
"Well....she definitely has good fashion sense"
"I guess I should some credit should be given to Sonarika.....she was an inspiration for her in that department......always knew how to dress on the occasion"
The mention of Sonarika's name changed Hemant's expression. Ananya noticed the pain and the drifting of uncertainty in his eyes. Ananya walked to him and caressed his face.
"I am sorry to bring her back into your mind......believe me......she failed you as a wife and a partner"
"You may be right..."
"But I assure you....you are in a better place now.....Pranitha will absolutely love you..."
"Is that so?"
"Look I know her in many ways.....and judging by what I experienced last night....I can tell you she will be a gateway to a life a man like you really deserves..."
"And what if I want simple things..."
"Come on Hemant....you are not simple.....and you definitely don't desire simple.....believe me....this is a start.....of something truly.......spectacular..."
"Maybe....we'll see.."
Once they were dressed , they arrived downstairs as Tara prepared them tea and a light breakfast. Ananya consumed it and appreciated Tara for taking her fitness into account.
"Thank you for the low carb Tara"
"Its my pleasure Mam , I figured you would not consume heavy food considering your workout routine that celebrities follow"
"An astute observation lady"
"She definitely is good at that" Hemant says appreciating Tara's dedication.
Tara on the other hand was calmly observing. Seeing the switch in Hemant , how the man who was grieving and mourning his broken family now had the glow of an awakening. The more she noticed him , the more she realized he was changing. THE Michael King was coming out of the surface and she was definitely feeling the shift. As Ananya and Hemant left , Tara went to her desk , picking out a file she had made on Michael King. In it were old images , relics of a past and wounds long forgotten. As Tara looked at them , her focus and determination were fuelled as she braced for the events that will come when Michael King fully awakens.
(TO BE CONTD)
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