01-01-2026, 03:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-01-2026, 07:51 PM by Haran000. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Bharath’s hands fumbled along the smooth expanse of Geeta’s back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine as her body quivered beneath his touch. His palms slid downward, leaving the creamy softness of her waist, then forward until his fingers found the tender flesh just below her navel. He squeezed gently.
“Aaah…!” The sound escaped her lips, sharp and sweet.
“I’m going to untie your skirt and pull it down,” he whispered against her ear.
Geeta laughed softly, breathless. “When I tell you to study, you never listen… but you seem to know everything about women’s clothes, you naughty boy.”
Even as the words left her mouth, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. With gentle insistence he guided her down until she was kneeling on the mattress. Then he pressed himself close, the hard, throbbing length of him nestling firmly against the curve of her buttocks.
He inhaled deeply at the nape of her neck, breathing in the lingering jasmine and the warmer, more intimate scent of her skin.
“Miss… bend over.”
The command was new—quiet, firm, laced with a hunger she hadn’t heard from him before. A sudden shiver raced through Geeta’s entire body.
“Uhu… why…?” She twisted slightly to look back at him, eyes wide.
Instead of answering with words, he kissed her again, slow and deep. When he drew back he murmured, “Miss, let’s do it like this.”
Panic flickered in Geeta’s gaze, but beneath it something hotter, more reckless, was already rising.
“Uhu… no…” she protested faintly, even as she reached behind her, fingers finding his hair, pulling him close enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
“It’s supposed to be good, Miss,” he coaxed. “Everyone says so.”
“Uhu… you still haven’t told me what else you’re going to do.”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” His voice dropped lower. “Miss… bend over.”
“I’ve never done it like that, dear.”
“That’s exactly why we should do it now.”
His left hand slid up to cup and squeeze her breast, while his right settled lightly at the back of her neck. With steady, gentle pressure he urged her forward.
Geeta’s greatest weakness had always been this: she could never truly refuse him.
Silently, she bent.
Bharath followed her down, lips brushing reverent kisses across the cotton-soft whiteness of her buttocks. Each warm press of his mouth stoked the growing fire between her thighs until she felt herself growing restless, impatient. The need was sharp now—the “thorn” had to find the waiting petals soon.
Unable to turn and see what he was doing, every new touch sent a thread of anxious anticipation through her. Then, suddenly, her whole body jolted.
“Isss… haah…”
Bharath had buried his face between the soft globes of her backside. His nose brushed sensitive skin; his lips found the steaming heat of her vulva and kissed it tenderly before his tongue followed, tasting her slowly.
“Ah…!”
He pressed deeper, sliding his tongue along the vertical seam, coaxing her open. At the same time he gently straightened her left leg, adjusting the angle until her most private place flowered wider for him.
![[Image: bh3za.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3za.gif)
Geeta reached back, desperate to thread her fingers into his hair, but he was too far. Instead he caught her long hair in his fist, tugged her head back just enough, and claimed her mouth in a fierce, upside-down kiss. When they broke apart she looked up into his eyes—half trepidation, half surrender.
With his free hand he guided himself, rubbing the swollen head of his member along her slick folds.
![[Image: bh3pq.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3pq.gif)
Geeta bit her lower lip hard as electricity shot through her core, swallowing the moan that tried to escape.
“Mmm… gently, please.”
“Yes, Miss… stay just like this…”
Even as he promised, he shifted his grip to her waist, pushed her hips forward slightly, and began the slow, inexorable slide inside her.
The first thick inch stretched her deliciously. Then more. Then all of him.
Geeta’s fingers scrabbled at the mattress. The pleasure was edged with a bright sting of pain; she lost her balance entirely and pitched forward onto her forearms with a loud, broken cry.
“Aaaa… Amma…!”
The raw sound startled Bharath. He froze, buried deep, every muscle in his body suddenly rigid with concern.
The room hung heavy with the ripe, intimate perfume of their bodies—salt-slick sweat, the faint musk of arousal, the sweet-sharp tang of Geetha’s juices that coated the air like summer rain on warm skin.
Bharat’s voice came low, gravel-rough against the shell of her ear.
“Miss… will the sound go outside the room?”
Geetha answered with a small, wet hiccup of a sob, her throat already raw. “Ah… I told you to be gentle, you rascal… you never listen.”
He answered by digging strong fingers into the plush give of her hip, the skin there already flushed hot and damp. With his other hand he gathered a thick fistful of her long black hair—and yanked her upright.
The sudden pull made her scalp sing with bright pinpricks of pain-pleasure. Then he sealed his mouth over hers, tongue sweeping deep, possessive, stealing her breath until she whimpered into the kiss.
“Um… don’t push so hard… I can’t take it,” she managed when he finally let her up for air, lips swollen and shining.
“I’ll do it slowly, hmm…” The promise sounded half-lie already, wrapped in that boyish, hungry rasp.
He guided her forward again until her palms sank into the damp, wrinkled cotton of the mattress. The sheet was already soaked in patches beneath her knees, cool against her overheated skin. One broad hand braced her hip while the other guided him back inside her—slow at first, the thick head parting her swollen folds with a slick, audible glide that made them both shudder. Then he pushed deeper, and Geetha felt every ridged inch stretch her open again, the burn of it mingling with a blooming, liquid heat that dripped down the insides of her thighs in warm, tickling rivulets.
“Ah…!”
“Haa…”
The wet, rhythmic sucking sound of their joining grew louder with each thrust; her arousal coated him so thoroughly that every withdrawal left glistening strands stretching between them like molten sugar.
The first sharp sting was fading now, replaced by a deep, narcotic warmth that spread through her pelvis, making her toes curl against the sheet and her spine arch like a drawn bow.
Bharat felt the change—the way her inner walls fluttered and softened around him—and his hips answered instinctively, snapping faster. When he finally sank to the hilt and his pelvis slapped flush against the high, rounded swell of her backside, the impact sent a bright ripple through her whole body.
She gasped, intoxicated, drunk on the sudden fullness that pressed against every sensitive place inside her at once.
“Ah ah—slowly… all of yours won’t go…”
“Mmm,” he grunted, but his hands were already kneading the soft flesh of her buttocks, thumbs spreading her wider so he could watch himself disappear inside her again and again, the sight making his breath hitch audibly.
![[Image: bh3Tx.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3Tx.gif)
“Aaah… ah abba, just like that…”
“Ha… ha… Miss, your asscheeks are so good—so soft, so high. Abba, once it’s inside I can’t even see it anymore…” He pulled out completely for a heartbeat, letting cool air kiss the slick, flushed skin between them.
The sudden emptiness was cruel. Geetha felt it like a hook tugging at every nerve; without thought she pushed back, hips rolling in needy little circles, chasing him.
A thin, silvery bridge of arousal stretched and snapped between the glistening head of his cock and her clitoral bud pulsing entrance.
She turned her head weakly over her shoulder, eyes glassy, pupils blown wide. Bharat dragged the hot, slippery length of himself along her folds—bottom to top, slow and deliberate—torturing them both until she was trembling, thighs quaking.
“Ah—don’t rub it like that, it’s driving me crazy… put it back in.”
“Abba, Miss… when you beg like that, I lose my mind even more,” he groaned.
Then, he pressed forward in one smooth, deep stroke, filling her so completely she laughed—a soft, broken sound of pure, overwhelmed pleasure that vibrated through both their bodies.
“Ah mm…”
He began to rock again, steady and relentless, the bed creaking beneath them in time with each thrust. The fan stirred the scent of sex higher—musk, salt, the faint metallic note of sweat.
“Haah… Miss…”
“Mm… don’t stop. Not at all.”
“I won’t stop. Not at all.”
His left hand clamped around her waist, fingers sinking into soft flesh; the right returned to her hair, twisting the damp strands and drawing her torso up in a shallow, straining arch that made her boobs sway heavily beneath her.
“Let go of the hair,” she gasped.
“Miss, women grow long hair exactly so it can be held like this while they’re being in fuck.”
“Um… you think everything exists for that.”
The pace climbed. Each thrust landed harder, faster. The wet slap of skin on skin rang out, underscored by the heavy, rhythmic smack of his sac against the sensitive skin below her buttocks. Sweat beaded along her spine, trickled down the valley between her boobs, dripped from the tips of her hair onto the sheet.
“Ah—slowly—”
“Uhu….”
He was pounding into her now, relentless. Geetha’s pleasure crested sharply; she felt the hot rush of nectar spill again, coating them both, running in warm streams down her shaking thighs. Her knees gave out; she collapsed forward onto her forearms, eyes squeezed shut, breathing in shattered, sobbing gasps that tasted of salt and cotton.
Bharat followed her down, chest plastered to her slick spine, lips finding the salty curve of her neck, teeth grazing skin as he stayed buried deep.
![[Image: bh3wg.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3wg.gif)
“Miss… okay?” he panted against her ear, breath hot and ragged.
“Hmm…”
But he wasn’t finished. Gripping her hair in both fists now, he began again—slow at first, then quickly building back to punishing speed. The bedframe rattled against the wall; the headboard knocked in soft, insistent protest.
“Ah…!”
“Miss, I should hold your hair and fuck you like this every single day. Abba… this is insane.”
“Ah—not insane, you donkey… mm… slow down.”
“Aha… Miss, I have to swing while holding your hair.”
The force of his thrusts pushed her forward across the mattress; he yanked her back by the hair and slammed home again. The sharp impact sent a bright, electric pang through her lower belly.
“Amma… you’re killing me.”
“Don’t move forward.”
“Ah—you’re the one pushing—”
He tugged her head back harder, kissed the delicate shell of her ear, hot breath fanning across damp skin. She squirmed, moaning into the mattress, the cotton growing damp beneath her open mouth.
“Stay up… don’t sink down.”
“Umm… I can’t—stop—”
“It’s almost over, Miss…”
One hand still tangled in her hair, the other clamped on her waist, he rode her in long, powerful strokes—like breaking a horse.
![[Image: bh30o.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh30o.gif)
Sweat poured off them both; the unmistakable *thwap-thwap* of thigh against ass echoed off the walls, mingling with the low creak of springs and her broken, sobbing moans.
“Ch… mm… Miss, the way you scream… it’s so fucking good…”
He drove deeper, grinding against the sensitive ridge inside her that made her whole body seize, inner walls fluttering wildly around him.
“Ah ah… you’re pounding me, you rascal—stop it…!”
“Ha… just a little more—just a little—uff…”
The sheets were hopelessly twisted, soaked, bunched beneath their knees.
When he finally released her hair, Geetha dropped forward immediately, face buried in the pillow. Bharat spread her thighs wider with rough palms, gripped her waist in both hands, and fucked her with single-minded ferocity—the wet, filthy sounds obscene in the humid room.
Her throat was raw, voice hoarse and cracked.
“Aaaaa… mm…”
“Ssh… ha… Miss…”
She reached back blindly, fingers trembling. “Amma… stop—ah ah—”
![[Image: bh3C7.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3C7.gif)
“What stop, Miss… Abba, we should just keep fucking like this forever.”
“Ah—you’re killing me… please—slowly—”
“Yes… h… it’s coming—ah Miss…”
“Aa… mm… fuck.”
The last strokes were brutal. Geetha shattered again, collapsing completely this time, face pressed deep into the pillow, biting fabric to muffle the raw, keening cries as she pulsed around him, hot nectar flooding out in rhythmic waves.
Bharat didn’t stop. He took her boneless surrender and chased his own end with savage snaps of his hips. Finally, with a guttural groan that vibrated through her back, he wrenched himself free—“puchuk”—and spilled thick, hot semen across the small of her back, the warm splatter making her shiver. The sperm swam down her buttery curves.
![[Image: bh3Ud.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bh3Ud.gif)
They collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap, chests heaving, the air so thick with their mingled scent it felt like drowning.
Geetha found her voice first, weak and fond. “Umph… you never listen. Mad dog. Monster…”
She tried to swat him, but the motion was feeble, her limbs heavy with afterglow. Bharat gathered her from behind, kissed the salty skin between her shoulder blades, tasting the sharp tang of her sweat.
“Miss, turn this way. I’m sleepy.”
“Go away… stupid…” she muttered, but there was no heat in it. A moment later she turned, thumping his chest lightly, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath slick skin.
He grinned, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “Forgive your villain, Madam. Your beauty, your screams—I couldn’t hold back. Punish me however you like… but please turn around and sleep with me.”
She smiled secretly into the dark, then let him pull her close, bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces, skin still fever-hot.
“If you’re like this now… then later…?”
“Hmm… later…?” He kissed her slowly, deeply, tasting sex.
“You’re still a boy. In a few more years…”
“You’ll leave me after these four days, won’t you?”
The words landed like stones in still water. Geetha went still, breath catching.
“You heard us?”, she questioned doubting.
“Will you really leave me, Miss?”
She couldn’t answer. Her head dropped against his chest, listening to the slowing thunder of his heart.
He drew her into his lap, arms tight around her sweat-slick waist. “Convince him we only did orals. Please.”
“Mm…” She hid her face against him, the lie sitting heavy between their pounding hearts.
“Miss. We have to meet. Don’t leave me. Anywhere. Let’s meet whenever we can.”
Silence, broken only by the slow whir of the fan and the wet sound of their breathing.
“Is that it? You’ll really leave?”, Bharath argued.
She wrapped her arms around him fiercely, nails digging into his back.
“Uhu… I want you. I’ll bend for you any number of times… but without going against his words…!”
“We can meet in OYOs, hotels—anywhere in the city.”
“What if someone we know sees?”
“Then the hillock in my village. No one goes there. Just us. But we meet, Miss. At least once every three months.”
“Three months?” She laughed softly, disbelieving, the sound muffled against his throat. “puppy… I want you once every three days.”
“It’s hard, Miss… college hostel…”
“Whenever we meet, take me exactly like this.”
“Yes, Miss. However we want. Without Gautham garu ever knowing. Please don’t say no.”
“I’ll try.”
He caught her lower lip between his teeth, kissed her with bruising tenderness, tasting the faint copper of where she’d bitten herself earlier.
“Keep me with you. Even if I get married someday… I’ll still keep you.”
“Um…”
“Um… I’m going to sleep now.”
He buried his face between her breasts like a boy seeking comfort, inhaling the warm, intimate scent of her skin. Geetha stroked his damp hair once, twice, fingers trembling.
“Sleep.”
No blanket covered them. Only each other.
.
.
.
.
To be continued………………..
“Aaah…!” The sound escaped her lips, sharp and sweet.
“I’m going to untie your skirt and pull it down,” he whispered against her ear.
Geeta laughed softly, breathless. “When I tell you to study, you never listen… but you seem to know everything about women’s clothes, you naughty boy.”
Even as the words left her mouth, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. With gentle insistence he guided her down until she was kneeling on the mattress. Then he pressed himself close, the hard, throbbing length of him nestling firmly against the curve of her buttocks.
He inhaled deeply at the nape of her neck, breathing in the lingering jasmine and the warmer, more intimate scent of her skin.
“Miss… bend over.”
The command was new—quiet, firm, laced with a hunger she hadn’t heard from him before. A sudden shiver raced through Geeta’s entire body.
“Uhu… why…?” She twisted slightly to look back at him, eyes wide.
Instead of answering with words, he kissed her again, slow and deep. When he drew back he murmured, “Miss, let’s do it like this.”
Panic flickered in Geeta’s gaze, but beneath it something hotter, more reckless, was already rising.
“Uhu… no…” she protested faintly, even as she reached behind her, fingers finding his hair, pulling him close enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
“It’s supposed to be good, Miss,” he coaxed. “Everyone says so.”
“Uhu… you still haven’t told me what else you’re going to do.”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” His voice dropped lower. “Miss… bend over.”
“I’ve never done it like that, dear.”
“That’s exactly why we should do it now.”
His left hand slid up to cup and squeeze her breast, while his right settled lightly at the back of her neck. With steady, gentle pressure he urged her forward.
Geeta’s greatest weakness had always been this: she could never truly refuse him.
Silently, she bent.
Bharath followed her down, lips brushing reverent kisses across the cotton-soft whiteness of her buttocks. Each warm press of his mouth stoked the growing fire between her thighs until she felt herself growing restless, impatient. The need was sharp now—the “thorn” had to find the waiting petals soon.
Unable to turn and see what he was doing, every new touch sent a thread of anxious anticipation through her. Then, suddenly, her whole body jolted.
“Isss… haah…”
Bharath had buried his face between the soft globes of her backside. His nose brushed sensitive skin; his lips found the steaming heat of her vulva and kissed it tenderly before his tongue followed, tasting her slowly.
“Ah…!”
He pressed deeper, sliding his tongue along the vertical seam, coaxing her open. At the same time he gently straightened her left leg, adjusting the angle until her most private place flowered wider for him.
Geeta reached back, desperate to thread her fingers into his hair, but he was too far. Instead he caught her long hair in his fist, tugged her head back just enough, and claimed her mouth in a fierce, upside-down kiss. When they broke apart she looked up into his eyes—half trepidation, half surrender.
With his free hand he guided himself, rubbing the swollen head of his member along her slick folds.
Geeta bit her lower lip hard as electricity shot through her core, swallowing the moan that tried to escape.
“Mmm… gently, please.”
“Yes, Miss… stay just like this…”
Even as he promised, he shifted his grip to her waist, pushed her hips forward slightly, and began the slow, inexorable slide inside her.
The first thick inch stretched her deliciously. Then more. Then all of him.
Geeta’s fingers scrabbled at the mattress. The pleasure was edged with a bright sting of pain; she lost her balance entirely and pitched forward onto her forearms with a loud, broken cry.
“Aaaa… Amma…!”
The raw sound startled Bharath. He froze, buried deep, every muscle in his body suddenly rigid with concern.
The room hung heavy with the ripe, intimate perfume of their bodies—salt-slick sweat, the faint musk of arousal, the sweet-sharp tang of Geetha’s juices that coated the air like summer rain on warm skin.
Bharat’s voice came low, gravel-rough against the shell of her ear.
“Miss… will the sound go outside the room?”
Geetha answered with a small, wet hiccup of a sob, her throat already raw. “Ah… I told you to be gentle, you rascal… you never listen.”
He answered by digging strong fingers into the plush give of her hip, the skin there already flushed hot and damp. With his other hand he gathered a thick fistful of her long black hair—and yanked her upright.
The sudden pull made her scalp sing with bright pinpricks of pain-pleasure. Then he sealed his mouth over hers, tongue sweeping deep, possessive, stealing her breath until she whimpered into the kiss.
“Um… don’t push so hard… I can’t take it,” she managed when he finally let her up for air, lips swollen and shining.
“I’ll do it slowly, hmm…” The promise sounded half-lie already, wrapped in that boyish, hungry rasp.
He guided her forward again until her palms sank into the damp, wrinkled cotton of the mattress. The sheet was already soaked in patches beneath her knees, cool against her overheated skin. One broad hand braced her hip while the other guided him back inside her—slow at first, the thick head parting her swollen folds with a slick, audible glide that made them both shudder. Then he pushed deeper, and Geetha felt every ridged inch stretch her open again, the burn of it mingling with a blooming, liquid heat that dripped down the insides of her thighs in warm, tickling rivulets.
“Ah…!”
“Haa…”
The wet, rhythmic sucking sound of their joining grew louder with each thrust; her arousal coated him so thoroughly that every withdrawal left glistening strands stretching between them like molten sugar.
The first sharp sting was fading now, replaced by a deep, narcotic warmth that spread through her pelvis, making her toes curl against the sheet and her spine arch like a drawn bow.
Bharat felt the change—the way her inner walls fluttered and softened around him—and his hips answered instinctively, snapping faster. When he finally sank to the hilt and his pelvis slapped flush against the high, rounded swell of her backside, the impact sent a bright ripple through her whole body.
She gasped, intoxicated, drunk on the sudden fullness that pressed against every sensitive place inside her at once.
“Ah ah—slowly… all of yours won’t go…”
“Mmm,” he grunted, but his hands were already kneading the soft flesh of her buttocks, thumbs spreading her wider so he could watch himself disappear inside her again and again, the sight making his breath hitch audibly.
“Aaah… ah abba, just like that…”
“Ha… ha… Miss, your asscheeks are so good—so soft, so high. Abba, once it’s inside I can’t even see it anymore…” He pulled out completely for a heartbeat, letting cool air kiss the slick, flushed skin between them.
The sudden emptiness was cruel. Geetha felt it like a hook tugging at every nerve; without thought she pushed back, hips rolling in needy little circles, chasing him.
A thin, silvery bridge of arousal stretched and snapped between the glistening head of his cock and her clitoral bud pulsing entrance.
She turned her head weakly over her shoulder, eyes glassy, pupils blown wide. Bharat dragged the hot, slippery length of himself along her folds—bottom to top, slow and deliberate—torturing them both until she was trembling, thighs quaking.
“Ah—don’t rub it like that, it’s driving me crazy… put it back in.”
“Abba, Miss… when you beg like that, I lose my mind even more,” he groaned.
Then, he pressed forward in one smooth, deep stroke, filling her so completely she laughed—a soft, broken sound of pure, overwhelmed pleasure that vibrated through both their bodies.
“Ah mm…”
He began to rock again, steady and relentless, the bed creaking beneath them in time with each thrust. The fan stirred the scent of sex higher—musk, salt, the faint metallic note of sweat.
“Haah… Miss…”
“Mm… don’t stop. Not at all.”
“I won’t stop. Not at all.”
His left hand clamped around her waist, fingers sinking into soft flesh; the right returned to her hair, twisting the damp strands and drawing her torso up in a shallow, straining arch that made her boobs sway heavily beneath her.
“Let go of the hair,” she gasped.
“Miss, women grow long hair exactly so it can be held like this while they’re being in fuck.”
“Um… you think everything exists for that.”
The pace climbed. Each thrust landed harder, faster. The wet slap of skin on skin rang out, underscored by the heavy, rhythmic smack of his sac against the sensitive skin below her buttocks. Sweat beaded along her spine, trickled down the valley between her boobs, dripped from the tips of her hair onto the sheet.
“Ah—slowly—”
“Uhu….”
He was pounding into her now, relentless. Geetha’s pleasure crested sharply; she felt the hot rush of nectar spill again, coating them both, running in warm streams down her shaking thighs. Her knees gave out; she collapsed forward onto her forearms, eyes squeezed shut, breathing in shattered, sobbing gasps that tasted of salt and cotton.
Bharat followed her down, chest plastered to her slick spine, lips finding the salty curve of her neck, teeth grazing skin as he stayed buried deep.
“Miss… okay?” he panted against her ear, breath hot and ragged.
“Hmm…”
But he wasn’t finished. Gripping her hair in both fists now, he began again—slow at first, then quickly building back to punishing speed. The bedframe rattled against the wall; the headboard knocked in soft, insistent protest.
“Ah…!”
“Miss, I should hold your hair and fuck you like this every single day. Abba… this is insane.”
“Ah—not insane, you donkey… mm… slow down.”
“Aha… Miss, I have to swing while holding your hair.”
The force of his thrusts pushed her forward across the mattress; he yanked her back by the hair and slammed home again. The sharp impact sent a bright, electric pang through her lower belly.
“Amma… you’re killing me.”
“Don’t move forward.”
“Ah—you’re the one pushing—”
He tugged her head back harder, kissed the delicate shell of her ear, hot breath fanning across damp skin. She squirmed, moaning into the mattress, the cotton growing damp beneath her open mouth.
“Stay up… don’t sink down.”
“Umm… I can’t—stop—”
“It’s almost over, Miss…”
One hand still tangled in her hair, the other clamped on her waist, he rode her in long, powerful strokes—like breaking a horse.
Sweat poured off them both; the unmistakable *thwap-thwap* of thigh against ass echoed off the walls, mingling with the low creak of springs and her broken, sobbing moans.
“Ch… mm… Miss, the way you scream… it’s so fucking good…”
He drove deeper, grinding against the sensitive ridge inside her that made her whole body seize, inner walls fluttering wildly around him.
“Ah ah… you’re pounding me, you rascal—stop it…!”
“Ha… just a little more—just a little—uff…”
The sheets were hopelessly twisted, soaked, bunched beneath their knees.
When he finally released her hair, Geetha dropped forward immediately, face buried in the pillow. Bharat spread her thighs wider with rough palms, gripped her waist in both hands, and fucked her with single-minded ferocity—the wet, filthy sounds obscene in the humid room.
Her throat was raw, voice hoarse and cracked.
“Aaaaa… mm…”
“Ssh… ha… Miss…”
She reached back blindly, fingers trembling. “Amma… stop—ah ah—”
“What stop, Miss… Abba, we should just keep fucking like this forever.”
“Ah—you’re killing me… please—slowly—”
“Yes… h… it’s coming—ah Miss…”
“Aa… mm… fuck.”
The last strokes were brutal. Geetha shattered again, collapsing completely this time, face pressed deep into the pillow, biting fabric to muffle the raw, keening cries as she pulsed around him, hot nectar flooding out in rhythmic waves.
Bharat didn’t stop. He took her boneless surrender and chased his own end with savage snaps of his hips. Finally, with a guttural groan that vibrated through her back, he wrenched himself free—“puchuk”—and spilled thick, hot semen across the small of her back, the warm splatter making her shiver. The sperm swam down her buttery curves.
They collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap, chests heaving, the air so thick with their mingled scent it felt like drowning.
Geetha found her voice first, weak and fond. “Umph… you never listen. Mad dog. Monster…”
She tried to swat him, but the motion was feeble, her limbs heavy with afterglow. Bharat gathered her from behind, kissed the salty skin between her shoulder blades, tasting the sharp tang of her sweat.
“Miss, turn this way. I’m sleepy.”
“Go away… stupid…” she muttered, but there was no heat in it. A moment later she turned, thumping his chest lightly, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath slick skin.
He grinned, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “Forgive your villain, Madam. Your beauty, your screams—I couldn’t hold back. Punish me however you like… but please turn around and sleep with me.”
She smiled secretly into the dark, then let him pull her close, bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces, skin still fever-hot.
“If you’re like this now… then later…?”
“Hmm… later…?” He kissed her slowly, deeply, tasting sex.
“You’re still a boy. In a few more years…”
“You’ll leave me after these four days, won’t you?”
The words landed like stones in still water. Geetha went still, breath catching.
“You heard us?”, she questioned doubting.
“Will you really leave me, Miss?”
She couldn’t answer. Her head dropped against his chest, listening to the slowing thunder of his heart.
He drew her into his lap, arms tight around her sweat-slick waist. “Convince him we only did orals. Please.”
“Mm…” She hid her face against him, the lie sitting heavy between their pounding hearts.
“Miss. We have to meet. Don’t leave me. Anywhere. Let’s meet whenever we can.”
Silence, broken only by the slow whir of the fan and the wet sound of their breathing.
“Is that it? You’ll really leave?”, Bharath argued.
She wrapped her arms around him fiercely, nails digging into his back.
“Uhu… I want you. I’ll bend for you any number of times… but without going against his words…!”
“We can meet in OYOs, hotels—anywhere in the city.”
“What if someone we know sees?”
“Then the hillock in my village. No one goes there. Just us. But we meet, Miss. At least once every three months.”
“Three months?” She laughed softly, disbelieving, the sound muffled against his throat. “puppy… I want you once every three days.”
“It’s hard, Miss… college hostel…”
“Whenever we meet, take me exactly like this.”
“Yes, Miss. However we want. Without Gautham garu ever knowing. Please don’t say no.”
“I’ll try.”
He caught her lower lip between his teeth, kissed her with bruising tenderness, tasting the faint copper of where she’d bitten herself earlier.
“Keep me with you. Even if I get married someday… I’ll still keep you.”
“Um…”
“Um… I’m going to sleep now.”
He buried his face between her breasts like a boy seeking comfort, inhaling the warm, intimate scent of her skin. Geetha stroked his damp hair once, twice, fingers trembling.
“Sleep.”
No blanket covered them. Only each other.
.
.
.
.
To be continued………………..
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