Fantasy Devika, a rich high class housewife, with angel heart

[prady12191]

Pathan found a weathered wooden table near the water's edge, half-hidden beneath a sprawling banyan tree. The moon cast dancing shadows through the leaves, creating patterns of light and darkness across the surface. He set the cake down carefully while Devika retrieved the candles from her purse.

The mundane task of arranging birthday candles felt surreal under these circumstances—trapped at a moonlit lake, teacher and student playing at celebration while darker currents pulled beneath the surface.

Devika's fingers trembled slightly as she pressed each small candle into the chocolate frosting, their bases sinking into the sweetness. Seven candles total—a random number, symbolic rather than accurate. She pulled matches from her purse, struck one, and began lighting each wick with careful precision.

Small flames flickered to life, their warm glow competing with the moon's cold radiance. Pathan watched her work, his expression unreadable in the shifting light.

"There." Devika stepped back, surveying her handiwork. "Ready."

Pathan moved to stand before the cake but made no move toward it. He simply stared at the dancing flames as if hypnotized.

"Cut your cake," Devika prompted gently.

Still he hesitated. The silence stretched between them, filled only with the soft lap of water against the shore and the distant call of night birds.

"Before cutting..." Devika moved closer, her voice dropping to something intimate. "Do you have any wish?"

"No." The response came too quickly, too flat.

Devika tilted her head, studying him in the candlelight. Shadows carved his face into sharp planes, making him look older than his years—hungry and dangerous.

"You need to wish something on your birthday." She kept her tone light despite the heaviness settling in her chest. "Everyone makes a wish."

Pathan's jaw worked silently for several seconds. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, some internal battle playing across his features. When he finally spoke, the words emerged raw and unfiltered.

"I want to see my teacher Devika with her pallu removed." His eyes lifted to meet hers, blazing with desperate courage. "And my shirt removed. Cut cake along with her in this night like..." He swallowed hard. "Like my wife."

The confession hung between them like a physical thing—tangible and impossible to ignore.

Shock rippled through Devika's body, freezing her in place. Heat flooded her cheeks, her pulse hammering so loud she could barely hear the water lapping at the shore. Of all the things she'd anticipated him saying, this brazen demand hadn't entered her calculations.

Pathan seemed to realize he'd overstepped. His expression shifted from boldness to alarm, words tumbling out in a rush.

"Sorry, ma'am. I just joked. Please don't take seriously—"

"Don't." Devika cut him off, her voice sharper than intended. She closed the distance between them until only inches separated their bodies. "Don't tell me it's a joke."

Pathan's breath caught audibly.

Devika held his gaze, letting the moment stretch. Power coursed through her veins—the intoxicating awareness that this young man wanted her so desperately he'd confessed his deepest fantasy without filters or shame.

"Do you want me to fulfill your wish?"

The question emerged low and dangerous, flavored with implications that made Pathan's eyes widen.

"What?" The word came out strangled.

"I asked..." Devika leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "Do you want me to fulfill your birthday wish? Yes or no?"

"Yes." No hesitation this time. The single word carried the weight of months of suppressed desire.

Devika stepped back, creating space between them. Her hands moved to her shoulder where the pallu was pinned—the decorative safety pin that held the fabric in place. She removed it with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving Pathan's face.

The burgundy silk slipped from her shoulder, sliding down her arm with a whisper of sound. Devika let it fall, the pallu pooling around her waist before dbanging across one hip. The gesture left her upper body exposed—sleeveless blouse revealing bare shoulders, the deep neckline displaying the swell of her breasts, her midriff gleaming in candlelight.

Pathan couldn't believe what he was seeing. His teacher—the proper Kerala professor who maintained strict boundaries—stood before him with her pallu removed, her curvy figure fully displayed in ways that made his mouth go dry.

The blouse hugged her breasts, the fabric straining slightly with each breath. Her waist curved inward before flaring to hips wrapped in silk. The exposed navel drew his eyes like a magnet, the small hollow moving as she breathed.

The intimate exposure transformed the lakeside into something sacred and profane simultaneously.

Devika moved toward him, each step measured and deliberate. She stopped directly in front of Pathan, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

"Your turn."

Her hands reached for his shirt, fingers working the buttons with practiced efficiency. One by one they came undone, revealing the lean muscles of his chest and abdomen. The black fabric parted, and Devika pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground beside them.

Pathan stood frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly as her eyes traveled across his exposed skin. No woman had ever undressed him before—certainly not a woman like her, beautiful and educated and impossibly beyond his reach.

Yet here she was. Touching him.

"Are you happy?" Devika's voice carried a teasing edge. "Getting your wish fulfilled?"

Pathan opened his mouth to respond but no coherent words emerged. He fumbled with syllables, his brain short-circuiting from the reality of her bare shoulders inches from his face, the scent of jasmine and woman filling his lungs.

Devika smiled at his incoherence. She took his hand, her fingers warm against his palm, and led him back to the table where the birthday cake waited with its seven flickering candles.

"I want you to cut it," Pathan managed finally, finding his voice.

"You want me to cut your birthday cake?" Devika raised an eyebrow. "Instead of you?"

"Yes. Please."

"Okay."

She positioned herself before the table, the candlelight casting golden warmth across her exposed skin. Pathan moved behind her without conscious thought, drawn by forces beyond simple desire.

His arms came around her waist, hands settling on either side of hers. The position pressed his bare chest against her back, his chin nearly resting on her shoulder. Together they leaned forward, their faces close to the dancing flames.

"Make a wish," Devika whispered.

Pathan couldn't form wishes beyond the moment—her body warm against his, the silk of her saree beneath his fingers, the way her breasts moved with each breath.

They blew out the candles together, seven small flames extinguishing in unison. As they leaned forward for the final candle, Pathan's eyes dropped involuntarily to the neckline of Devika's blouse.

Her breasts hung heavy inside the fabric, the deep cut revealing the valley between them. The angle gave him a view he'd only imagined in fevered fantasies—soft curves moving with her breathing, the edges of lace visible against brown skin.

He couldn't look away.

Devika reached for the knife, cutting a small piece from the cake with careful precision. She lifted it, turning slightly within the circle of his arms to face him.

"Open your mouth."

Pathan obeyed. The chocolate melted on his tongue as she fed him, her fingers brushing his lips in a gesture far more intimate than necessary.

Before she could withdraw her hand, Pathan caught her wrist. He brought her fingers to his mouth, licking away the traces of frosting that clung to her skin. His tongue traced each digit slowly, tasting chocolate and something uniquely her—salt and jasmine and desire.

Devika's breath hitched. Heat flooded her core as his mouth worked against her fingers with deliberate sensuality.

When he finally released her hand, Pathan's eyes blazed with renewed hunger.

"I need a gift."

"A gift?" Devika stepped back slightly, creating distance. "I don't have anything to give you."

Pathan's gaze dropped to her lips—full and pink, slightly parted as she breathed. "I already saw my gift."

Understanding dawned in Devika's eyes. A flush spread across her cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or arousal remained unclear.

"You won't take any gift from me," she announced, her tone playful despite the charged atmosphere.

Before Pathan could respond, she placed both palms against his bare chest and pushed. The gesture wasn't hard, just enough to create space between them. Then she turned and ran.

The movement was spontaneous and girlish—completely at odds with the seductive woman who'd just removed her pallu and fed him cake. Her saree hiked up slightly as she sprinted along the lakeside path, moonlight painting her fleeing form in silver.

Pathan watched, transfixed.

Each stride made her body move in ways that stole his breath. Her ass swayed beneath the silk, the fabric clinging to curves that had haunted his dreams for months. Her exposed midriff flexed and contracted with exertion, the navel he'd stared at during countless lectures now moving in hypnotic rhythm. And her breasts—freed from the constraint of the pallu's modest covering—bounced within her tight blouse, threatening to spill free.

Devika reached a clearing and turned back to face him. Moonlight caught her from behind, creating a halo effect that made her seem otherworldly. She stood with hands on hips, breathing hard, a mocking smile playing across her lips.

"If you can come and take your gift!" The challenge rang clear across the water.

Pathan didn't need further invitation. He launched himself forward, closing the distance between them with long strides. Devika shrieked—half genuine alarm, half delighted anticipation—and ran again.

But he was faster. Younger. Fueled by months of suppressed desire.

He caught her near an ancient tree whose roots twisted into the earth like serpents. His hands closed around her waist, spinning her until her back pressed against rough bark. He followed immediately, trapping her between tree and body, his arms caging her on either side.

Both of them breathed hard, chests heaving from exertion and something far more primal. The chase had transformed them—stripped away the teacher-student dynamic and left only man and woman, hunter and willing prey.

"You won't get your gift." Devika's voice emerged breathless but defiant. "I won't give you anything."

Pathan leaned closer, his face inches from hers. The scent of paan clung to his breath—bitter and sharp.

"Don't need you to give." His voice dropped to something rough and commanding. "I'll take it."

His hands moved before she could protest, capturing her wrists and raising them above her head. He pressed them against the tree trunk, holding them there with one hand while the other cupped her face.

Then his mouth descended on hers.

The kiss began hard and desperate—all lips and teeth and barely controlled hunger. Pathan's mouth moved against hers with the awkward enthusiasm of youth combined with genuine desire. He sucked her lower lip, then her upper, exploring each individually as if memorizing their shape.

Devika responded without thought. Her lips parted, accepting his invasion, returning the pressure with equal fervor. She tasted paan on his tongue—the bitter tang of tobacco and betel mixing with chocolate cake in a combination that should have been unpleasant but somehow inflamed her senses.

He released her wrists, needing both hands for what came next. His palms cupped her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Fingers tangled in her hair, disrupting the careful braid until strands fell loose around her shoulders.

Their mouths crashed together with increasing intensity—all pretense of gentleness abandoned. Tongues met and dueled, lips bruising from the force of their joining. Pathan's teeth caught her lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp.

Devika's hands found his bare chest, nails dragging across skin as she pulled him closer. The tree bark bit into her back but she barely noticed, too consumed by the taste of him, the weight of him pressing against her.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting. Pathan rested his forehead against hers, his eyes dark with barely controlled lust.

"Happy birthday to me," he whispered.

Devika laughed—a breathless, slightly hysterical sound that held equal parts joy and disbelief at what she'd just allowed. What she'd just initiated.

The moon watched their embrace with indifferent light, casting shadows that concealed as much as they revealed. Around them, the lake continued its eternal rhythm—water lapping at shore, night birds calling, the world spinning on while two people broke rules and crossed lines under the vast expanse of stars.

Pathan's mouth descended on hers again before Devika could catch her breath, the kiss more demanding than before. His lips moved with frantic hunger, as if he could consume her through sheer force of desire. His hands roamed across her body with newfound boldness—no longer tentative student touches but the greedy exploration of a man claiming what he'd been denied.

One palm slid down her bare arm, fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder before continuing lower. He found the soft flesh of her hip where the saree clung wetly, squeezing through the silk barrier. His other hand moved to her thigh, fingers splaying wide as he gripped the muscle there, feeling it tense beneath his touch.

Devika's hands weren't idle either. She traced the definition of his shoulders, nails dragging lightly across skin that jumped at her touch. Her fingers mapped the planes of his chest, feeling the rapid thunder of his heartbeat beneath her palm.

Pathan's hand slid lower still, cupping the generous curve of her ass. He squeezed gently at first, testing her reaction, then more firmly when she didn't protest. The flesh gave beneath his fingers—soft and yielding in a way that made him groan against her mouth.

"Sexy Malayali teacher," he breathed against her lips, the words emerging rough with desire.

Devika laughed—a sound caught between amusement and arousal. "Dirty paan-chewing Pune ruggard guy."

The insult carried no real venom. If anything, the crude description seemed to inflame them both further. Pathan's mouth crashed against hers with renewed intensity, his tongue pushing past her lips to tangle with hers.

Then Devika felt it—a coolness against her heated skin that didn't come from the night air. A droplet landed on her shoulder, then another on her cheek.

Rain.

They broke apart simultaneously, both looking up at the sky as the drizzle intensified. What had been scattered drops moments ago transformed into a steady fall, coating everything in liquid shimmer.

"Fuck," Pathan muttered, genuine frustration coloring his tone. He looked at Devika, water already beginning to plaster her hair to her skull. "My luck. Rain stops our romance."

He stepped back, releasing his hold on her body. "Let's not get wet. There's a storeroom nearby—"

But before he could finish the sentence, Devika's hand shot out and caught his arm. Her fingers wrapped around his bicep with surprising strength, halting his retreat.

"Let's enjoy what God gave to us."

The words emerged low and deliberate. Without waiting for his response, she pressed her entire body against his—breasts to chest, hips to hips. Her mouth found his in the falling rain, lips moving with passionate intensity that stole his breath.

The rain intensified, soaking through their clothes within seconds. Devika's saree clung to her curves like a second skin, the burgundy silk turning nearly black with moisture. Her blouse became transparent, the outline of her bra visible through the wet fabric.

Pathan's hands found her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. "Madam," he moaned against her mouth. "You're irresistible."

Water streamed down their bodies—following the line of her neck to pool in her cleavage, running rivulets along his abdomen. Each raindrop added to the sensory overload, cool against heated skin, making every touch electric.

Devika pushed him suddenly—not hard enough to hurt but with enough force to create distance. The mocking smile returned to her lips as she stepped back, rain painting her features in silver.

"If you need more gifts..." She gestured at herself with deliberate provocation. "Get them from me."

Then she ran again.

The sight paralyzed Pathan for precious seconds. Devika's wet figure moved through the rain like something from fevered dreams. Her saree clung to every curve—the swell of her ass, the dip of her waist, the generous hips that swayed with each stride. The wet fabric molded to her body, revealing more than it concealed, creating an intimate silhouette that made his mouth go dry despite the falling rain.

Her wet hair streamed behind her, freed completely from its braid now. Water droplets flew from the dark strands like diamonds scattering in moonlight. And her breasts—God, her breasts—bounced heavily within the soaked blouse, the wet fabric doing nothing to hide their shape or the way they moved.

It was shocking. Intimate. The most erotic thing Pathan had ever witnessed in his life.

He chased.

His legs ate up the distance between them, muscles burning with exertion. Devika shrieked as she heard him gaining, putting on a burst of speed that carried her past the weathered table where the birthday cake sat forgotten, its frosting beginning to melt under the rain's assault.

Pathan caught her there, his hands closing around her wet arms. The water made her slippery, his grip sliding as he tried to pull her close. He adjusted his hold, fingers finding purchase on her shoulders, and spun her to face him.

Before he could kiss her again, Devika reached out and grabbed a piece of cake. The chocolate smeared across her fingers as she lifted it to her mouth, biting off half before offering him the rest. But instead of simply feeding him, she kept the cake in her mouth.

She pulled him down, her lips meeting his with the chocolate between them. The sweetness mixed with rain and desire as they shared the morsel, tongues battling for the melting frosting. They swallowed together, still kissing, the taste of chocolate lingering even as their mouths continued their hungry exploration.

Devika's lips left his, trailing down his jaw to his neck. She kissed the column of his throat, feeling his pulse hammer beneath her mouth. Rain flowed between them, adding lubrication as her tongue traced patterns on his skin.

She moved lower, finding his chest. Her mouth worked across the defined muscles, tasting rain and salt and the unique flavor of his skin. When her lips found his nipple, she felt his entire body jerk.

"Fuck!" Pathan's moan carried across the water, raw and unfiltered.

Devika swirled her tongue around the small nub, feeling it harden beneath her attention. She alternated between gentle licks and firmer suction, each touch drawing increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat.

Then she moved to the other nipple, giving it equal attention while rain continued its relentless fall around them. Water ran in rivulets down his chest, following the valleys between muscles, and she chased the droplets with her tongue.

When she finally lifted her head, Pathan's eyes blazed with barely controlled lust. She kissed him again—hard and deep, her tongue pushing past his lips to tangle with his in a dance that mimicked far more explicit acts.

Pathan's hands found her ass again, both palms cupping the generous curves through wet silk. He squeezed, marveling at the softness, the way the flesh gave beneath his fingers even through the barrier of fabric.

He maneuvered behind her, his height giving him a perfect view down her blouse. The wet fabric had shifted, the neckline gaping open to reveal her cleavage in all its glory. Water pooled between her breasts, creating a small reservoir that threatened to overflow with each breath.

Pathan's mouth found her neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He worked his way across her shoulder, tasting rain and jasmine. His hands slid around her body, cupping her breasts through the soaked blouse.

The weight of them filled his palms perfectly. He squeezed gently, feeling the soft flesh yield, the hardness of her nipples pressing against his palms through blouse and bra. He massaged with increasing confidence, learning the shape of her, the way she responded to different pressures.

Devika pressed her ass backward, grinding against the hardness straining behind his jeans. The friction made them both groan—his cock trapped and aching, her body seeking relief from the arousal building between her thighs.

Through the wet fabric of her blouse and bra, Pathan could feel her nipples—hard points that seemed to pierce through every layer, announcing her arousal with shameless clarity. He pinched them gently through the fabric, rolling them between thumb and forefinger.

Devika's head fell back against his shoulder, a moan escaping her lips that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the heat building in her core.

Then Pathan released her breasts and sank to his knees in the mud behind her. He gripped her hips, turning her to face him. The sight that greeted him stole whatever breath the rain hadn't already claimed.

Her navel was exposed where the saree had ridden up, water dripping from the small hollow in mesmerizing patterns. Each droplet traced the curve of her waist before disappearing into the fabric below. The wet silk clung to her belly, emphasizing the slight softness there, the feminine roundness that spoke of womanhood rather than girlhood.

Pathan's hands slid up her thighs, feeling the muscle beneath rain-slicked skin. He leaned forward, his mouth finding her navel with unerring accuracy.

He kissed the small hollow reverently, his tongue darting out to taste the rain pooled there. The water was warm from her body heat, flavored with something uniquely her. He lapped at it like a man dying of thirst, his tongue exploring every ridge and valley of her waist.

Then he buried his face against her belly, feeling the slick softness made even more sensual by the rain. His hands gripped her ass for balance, fingers digging into the generous curves as he worshipped her waist with mouth and tongue.

Devika's hands tangled in his wet hair, holding him against her. "Sexy," she breathed. The word emerged barely audible over the sound of falling rain.

Pathan's mouth moved across her skin, kissing and licking with abandon. "Everything about you is sexy," he mumbled against her flesh. "Your waist, your belly, the way water runs down your skin..."

He stood abruptly, his eyes locking with hers. Rain streamed down both their faces, but neither seemed to notice. The hunger in his gaze was almost feral—a man who'd been given a taste and now craved the entire feast.

His hand slid down her body, over the wet silk of her saree, until his palm pressed against her mound. Even through layers of fabric, he could feel the heat radiating from her core.

Devika's hand shot out, covering his and stopping its movement. "We have the entire night."

The reminder made Pathan's eyes widen, then crinkle with a smile that was equal parts joy and anticipation. "Yes. Entire night to enjoy you."

"Let's pause." Devika stepped back, creating space between them despite the obvious reluctance of both their bodies. "Romance and talk sometime in this rain. Like lovers."

She took his hand and led him back toward the ancient tree. The bark was slick with moisture, but the thick trunk provided some shelter from the worst of the downpour. Devika guided Pathan to sit with his back against the tree, his legs stretched out before him.

Then she settled onto his lap—not facing him but with her back to his chest, nestled between his thighs. She leaned back, feeling his wet skin against hers, his heartbeat thundering against her shoulder blade.

After a moment, she shifted, turning in his lap until they faced each other. Her legs straddled his hips, her saree bunching around her thighs. She brought her face close to his, so close their noses brushed.

"You know..." Devika's voice emerged soft, almost lost beneath the rain's steady percussion. "When I came here tonight, I thought maybe a quick encounter. Something fast and forgettable." She traced his jaw with one finger. "Never thought we'd be locked in. Or that it would rain."

Pathan's expression shifted—guilt flickering across his features before he could hide it. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Devika tilted her head, studying him.

"It was my plan." The confession tumbled out in a rush. "To get us trapped here. I gave money to the gatekeeper. Told him to lock up early and leave."

Shock rippled across Devika's face, her eyes widening. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. The expression transformed into laughter—genuine and delighted rather than angry.

"You pervert."

She kissed him before he could apologize again, her mouth moving against his with renewed passion. When she pulled back, her eyes danced with amusement.

"Pathan..." She hesitated, as if testing words before speaking them aloud. "Do you like me?"

"Yes." The response came without hesitation. He met her gaze steadily despite the vulnerability in the question. "Any man in Pune who sees you would want to marry you. Fuck you all night."

"You dirty pervert." But the insult carried affection rather than censure. "Always thinking about having sex."

"What else should I think about when you're sitting on my lap wearing wet clothes that show everything?"

Devika laughed again, the sound bright against the rain's steady drumming. "I meant..." She brushed her nose against his, an intimate gesture that felt more revealing than their earlier kisses. "Do you like my attitude? My character?"

Understanding dawned in Pathan's eyes. He nodded slowly, his hands settling on her waist. "Yes, ma'am. I like everything about you."

They stayed close, lips almost but not quite touching as they spoke—each word a caress, each breath shared between them.

"Tell me..." Devika's voice dropped to something conspiratorial. "What fantasies do you have about me?"

Pathan groaned. "Many."

"Tell me one."

"When I see you walking from behind..." His hands slid down to cup her ass, emphasizing his point. "I want to grab these. Pull you against me. Make you feel how hard you make me just by existing."

Devika's breath hitched. She made a show of mock anger, swatting at his chest. "Pervert."

But her hands remained on his skin, fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest.

"If you get me as your wife..." Devika paused, letting the hypothetical scenario hang between them. "What will you do?"

"Wife?" Pathan's eyes widened at the question, his voice catching on the word.

"Yes." Devika's lips brushed his as she spoke. "As your wife."

Pathan's hands tightened on her waist, his expression turning almost reverent. "I would worship you daily. Romance you all day and night." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Everywhere. In the kitchen while you cook. In the bathroom while you bathe. Even in public—touching you where no one can see, making you wet while pretending everything is innocent."

A moan escaped Devika's throat. "Pathan... I'm getting wet just hearing this."

She kissed him—deep and desperate, her tongue pushing into his mouth as rain continued falling around them. When she finally pulled back, both were gasping.

"Then marry me," she breathed against his lips. "Keep me as your wife. See me as your wife, not as your teacher." Her hips ground against his, feeling the hardness trapped between them. "Have me all night like you would have your wife."

"Devika..." Pathan moaned her name—not 'ma'am' or 'teacher' but her actual name, raw and intimate on his tongue.

He knew this was fantasy. Knew that when morning came, she would return to being his professor and he would remain her student. The real world didn't allow for Kerala biology teachers to marry Pune students half their age.

But here, in this rain-soaked darkness with the world reduced to just their bodies and desire, they could pretend.

"Devika," he said again, tasting the syllables. "My wife."

She smiled against his mouth, then settled more fully onto his lap. Her head rested on his shoulder, her wet hair streaming down his chest. His arms came around her, holding her close as rain drummed a steady rhythm on the leaves above.

They stayed like that—wrapped in each other, breathing in sync, letting the fantasy play out in the spaces between heartbeats. Wife and husband. Lovers unbound by profession or propriety. Just a man and woman finding shelter in each other's arms while the storm continued its relentless fall.

The night stretched ahead of them—hours of darkness and rain and possibility. Devika felt Pathan's heart beating steady and strong beneath her cheek, felt his hands gentle on her waist, and allowed herself to sink into the fiction they were creating together.

Tomorrow would bring reality. Morning would restore boundaries and consequences. But tonight—this rain-soaked night trapped at a moonlit lake—belonged only to them.

The rain had settled into a steady rhythm, no longer the torrential downpour but a persistent drizzle that kept everything slick and glistening. Water ran in rivulets down their bodies as they held each other beneath the ancient tree, the world reduced to just the two of them and the falling rain.

Devika lifted her head from Pathan's shoulder, her dark eyes finding his in the moonlight. Something shifted in her expression—a seriousness cutting through the playful intimacy of moments before.

"Pathan..." She hesitated, then continued. "I want to say something."

He nodded, waiting.

"Reduce your porn watching." The words emerged firm but gentle. "It's bad for you."

Pathan's hands stilled on her waist. He looked at her with an expression caught between amusement and disbelief. "When I have a woman like you..." His voice dropped low, rough with desire. "Why should I watch porn?"

The compliment sent heat through Devika's chest despite the rain's chill.

"But I can't get you daily," Pathan continued, frustration bleeding into his tone. His fingers traced patterns on her wet skin. "Can't touch you whenever I want. Can't kiss you in the hallways or pull you into empty classrooms."

Devika's mind raced, processing his words and the hunger behind them. An idea formed—reckless and dangerous but undeniably arousing.

"But still..." She cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "If you feel like seeing porn, think of me instead." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You come to me. Take me to a secluded spot in college. Kiss me as long as you need to satisfy yourself."

Pathan's breath caught.

"Smell me. Hug me." Her lips brushed his as she spoke. "Play with my body until the urge passes."

"When all are in college I can't, right?" The protest came out weak, already defeated by the images her words conjured. "Someone will see—"

"Don't worry." Devika's smile turned wicked. "You can signal me." She demonstrated, her hands moving to adjust her saree in a gesture that could appear accidental. "I'll show my hips and waist like an accident. Bend and show my cleavage when passing your desk."

Pathan groaned, his imagination running wild.

"Raise my arms and show my armpits while writing on the board," Devika continued, each suggestion more explicit than the last. "I'm there for you, Pathan. Whenever you need."

The promise hung between them—an offer of intimacy hidden in plain sight, professor and student maintaining propriety's facade while conducting their forbidden affair beneath everyone's noses.

Pathan's mouth crashed against hers with desperate hunger. The kiss consumed them both, tongues tangling as rain continued its relentless fall. When they finally broke apart, both stood on shaky legs, the tree's support the only thing keeping them upright.

Pathan didn't stop kissing her even as they rose. His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, down her throat, across her collarbone. His hands roamed with increasing boldness, mapping every curve revealed by wet fabric.

He found the edge of her saree where it was tucked at her waist. His fingers worked the wet silk, beginning to unwrap her like a gift.

"Wait." Devika's hand covered his, stopping the motion.

Pathan pulled back, confusion clouding his features. "What—"

"I want to give you a gift first."

She stepped away from him, moving behind the tree before he could protest. Pathan waited, his body thrumming with frustrated arousal, wondering what she could possibly be doing.

When Devika emerged, Pathan's mind went completely blank.

She held her wet petticoat in one hand—the white fabric dripping water as she let it fall carelessly to the muddy ground. Without that underlayer, her saree clung directly to her skin in ways that stole his breath.

The burgundy silk molded to her thighs like a second skin, revealing every curve and contour. Water had made the fabric semi-transparent in places, offering tantalizing glimpses of the brown flesh beneath. A gap appeared where the pleats didn't quite meet, exposing several inches of her inner thigh.

She looked extremely sexy—dangerously, impossibly sexy in a way that made Pathan's cock throb painfully behind his jeans.

Without conscious thought, his hand moved to his crotch, gripping himself through the denim as if the pressure might provide relief.

Devika watched his reaction with satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. She moved toward him slowly, each step deliberate, the gap in her saree flashing more thigh with every stride.

Pathan met her halfway, unable to wait another second. His mouth found hers with bruising force, kissing her madly as rain fell around them. One hand gripped her hip through the wet saree while the other explored, searching for that tantalizing gap he'd glimpsed.

His fingers found the slit between pleats. The fabric parted easily under his touch, revealing smooth, rain-slicked skin. He caressed her bare thigh, marveling at the softness, the warmth radiating from her core despite the rain's chill.

Pathan's hand slid to the back of her knee, gripping firmly. He lifted, bending her leg and wrapping it around his hip. The position opened her to him, pressing her heat against his hardness through their remaining clothes.

He held her like that—one of her legs wrapped around him, her saree riding up dangerously high, his hand caressing the bare flesh of her thigh. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, learning the texture, the way she trembled at certain touches.

After several breathless moments, he lowered her leg gently. Devika's feet found the muddy ground again, though her balance seemed uncertain.

Her hands moved to his waist with determined purpose. She found his belt buckle, working the leather through the clasp with fumbling fingers made clumsy by rain and arousal. The metal clinked as it came free, then she attacked the button and zipper with equal determination.

The jeans slid down Pathan's hips, pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them quickly, kicking the wet denim aside. Now he stood in only his underwear—black briefs that did nothing to hide the massive erection straining against the fabric.

He pulled her close again, his mouth finding hers in another hungry kiss. Devika's hands roamed across his wet thighs, feeling the muscle beneath rain-slicked skin. Her fingers traced upward, teasing along the edge of his underwear before retreating.

Then she raised her leg again, wrapping it around his hip with more confidence this time. The heat of her bare thigh pressed against his, skin to skin, intimate and electric.

Devika gave him the full warmth of her body, grinding against him as rain continued falling. She could feel his hardness pressing directly against her pussy through the thin barriers of his underwear and her remaining clothes. The friction sent sparks of pleasure radiating through her core.

She held the position, rubbing against him with increasing pressure. Her hips moved in small circles, seeking relief from the ache building between her thighs. Pathan's hands gripped her ass, helping her maintain balance while encouraging the delicious friction.

After several torturous moments, Devika lowered her leg again. But before Pathan could protest the loss of contact, her hand moved to his crotch.

She cupped him through the underwear, feeling the shape of his erection, the heat radiating through wet fabric. Her palm pressed against his length, fingers exploring the outline.

"Fuck!" Pathan's moan tore from his throat, raw and desperate.

Devika's hand continued its exploration, sliding lower to cup his balls. She felt their weight, the way they drew up tight against his body. Her fingers traced the sensitive skin there, making Pathan shudder against her.

Then her hand slipped inside his briefs.

The first contact of skin on skin made them both gasp. Devika wrapped her fingers around his hot shaft, feeling it pulse in her grip. Even the rain couldn't cool the heat radiating from his cock.

"Pathan..." She moaned against his lips, overwhelmed by the sensation. The hardness, the silky skin stretched taut over steel, the way it jerked at her touch.

She gripped him firmly, her hand learning the shape and size of him. Then she pulled his cock free from the confining underwear, bringing it into the open air and rain.

Devika's hand slid along his length—from base to tip and back again in slow, measured strokes. Her fingers traced the prominent vein running along the underside, felt the ridge where head met shaft.

She stopped kissing him, pulling back to look down at what she held. Her mouth fell open, a moan escaping as she truly comprehended his size.

"It's hard," she breathed, wonder and arousal flavoring the words.

Rain fell on his exposed cock, droplets running down the shaft to where her hand gripped him. The water added lubrication, making her strokes smoother, slicker.

Devika slid even closer, her body pressing fully against his. She could feel his dick completely now—the heat of it against her belly, the way it pulsed with his heartbeat, the moisture gathering at the tip that wasn't just rain.

Then she sank to her knees before him.

The muddy ground soaked through her saree instantly, but Devika didn't care. She knelt in the rain with Pathan's cock gripped firmly in her hand, looking up at him with eyes dark with desire.

His dick leaked precum, the clear fluid mixing with rain as it dripped from the swollen head. Devika watched, fascinated, as another drop formed and fell.

She smiled up at him—not the modest smile of a proper Kerala professor but something far more wicked. Her free hand came up to join the first, both palms now working his length with increasing confidence.

She played with his dick, exploring every inch. Her fingers traced the veins, circled the head, massaged the sensitive spot just beneath the crown. Each touch drew increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat.

Then Devika pressed his cock against her cheek.

The heat of it shocked her despite the rain's chill. She rubbed the hard length across her face, from cheek to chin and back again. The silky skin dragged across her features, leaving traces of precum mixed with rainwater.

"I can feel its heat in this rain," she moaned, her voice thick with arousal.

She rubbed his dick along her lips next, feeling the shape of the head, the ridge that defined it. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely masculine—exploded across her tongue as precum smeared across her mouth.

Pathan groaned above her, his hands fisting in her wet hair.

Devika brought his cock to her nose, pressing the length against her face and inhaling deeply. The scent of him filled her lungs—sharp and musky, primal in a way that made her pussy clench with need.

She rubbed him against her nose, breathing him in, lost in the sensory overload. Pathan had never thought his biology teacher would worship his dick like this, treating it as something precious and desired rather than crude or shameful.

Devika's hands moved to her back, fingers searching for the hooks of her blouse.

"Stop." Pathan's voice cut through the rain, sharp with command.

She looked up at him, confusion and frustration warring in her expression. Her fingers stilled on the hooks.

"It's more sexy..." Pathan's hands came down to cup her face, tilting it up so he could see her properly. "Seeing your cleavage and your chain between your valley in that blouse than nude."

Understanding dawned in Devika's eyes. A smile spread across her face—pleased and surprised by his restraint, his appreciation for the tease rather than immediate gratification.

"You're different," she murmured, her hands falling away from the blouse hooks.

The wet fabric clung to her breasts, the deep neckline gaping open to reveal the valley between them. Her gold chain hung there, nestled in her cleavage, the metal gleaming against brown skin. The sight was indeed more erotic than simple nudity—the promise of what lay beneath, the barrier that made desire sharper.

"Pathan..." Devika's voice dropped to something reverent. "This is your gift."

She gripped his cock firmly in both hands, angling it toward her face.

"Your dream Kerala woman's lips on your dick."

The words had barely left her mouth before she leaned forward and kissed the swollen head.

Her lips pressed against the tip—soft and warm despite the rain's chill. She held the kiss for several heartbeats, feeling his cock jerk in her grip, tasting the precum that leaked freely now.

"Ahhhh!" Pathan's moan tore from his throat, his entire body jerking at the sensation.

The feeling of her lips on his most sensitive flesh—his beautiful professor, the woman he'd fantasized about for months, kneeling in the mud and rain to worship his cock—it exceeded every fantasy his porn-addled brain had ever conjured.

Devika pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips still barely brushing his tip. Rain streamed down both their faces, but neither seemed to notice anything beyond the connection between them.

"Happy birthday, Pathan," she whispered against his cock.

The rain began to fade, transforming from steady downpour to gentle drizzle. Water droplets hung suspended in the air like diamonds catching moonlight, creating a shimmering curtain around their bodies.

Devika held Pathan's cock firmly in both hands, angling it toward her face. She pressed her lips to the swollen head—a gentle kiss, reverent and slow. The heat of him burned against her mouth despite the rain's cooling touch.

"Ahhh..." Pathan's moan emerged strangled, desperate.

She kissed again. Another soft press of lips against his tip, lingering longer this time. His cock jerked in her grip, leaking fresh precum that mixed with rain and saliva.

"Fuck..." His hands fisted in her wet hair.

Devika continued the torturous pattern—kiss after kiss planted along his length. She worked from tip to base and back again, her lips mapping every inch. Each kiss drew increasingly desperate sounds from Pathan's throat, his hips twitching with the effort of holding still.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his.

The sight of her—kneeling in mud with rain drizzling around them, holding his dick like something precious while those dark eyes burned with hunger—nearly undid him completely.

Devika parted her lips and took him inside.

The heat of her mouth engulfed just the head at first, her tongue swirling around the crown. Pathan's entire body jerked, his moan echoing across the water. She sucked gently, creating suction that pulled more precum onto her tongue.

"Holy fuck!" The words tore from him as she slowly took more of his length.

Devika's mouth stretched around his girth, lips sliding down his shaft inch by careful inch. Her tongue pressed against the underside, tracing the prominent vein there. She established a rhythm—slow and deliberate, taking him deeper with each bob of her head.

Pathan's moans grew louder, more frantic. His hands tightened in her hair but didn't force, letting her control the pace. Rain continued falling, droplets running down his thighs to where her mouth worked.

She increased her speed gradually, her head moving faster. The wet sounds of her sucking mixed with rain and his desperate groans. Saliva pooled in her mouth, making everything slicker, easier.

Then she pulled off completely.

His cock gleamed in the moonlight—coated with her saliva, catching the light like polished stone. Strings of spit connected her lips to his tip, stretching thin before breaking.

Devika gathered saliva in her mouth and spat directly onto his dick.

The glob landed on the swollen head, sliding down his length in thick rivulets. She used both hands to spread it, coating every inch until his cock glistened obscenely.

Then she took him back inside.

This time she sucked harder, faster, her mouth working his length with increasing confidence. Her hands joined the effort—one gripping his base, the other massaging his balls. The combination made Pathan's legs shake.

When she pulled off again, thick strings of saliva and precum connected her mouth to his cock. They stretched between them like bridges, shimmering in the fading rain.

"This is the sloppiest, sexiest blowjob ever," Pathan moaned, staring down at the erotic sight.

Devika met his gaze, her lips swollen and wet. "I swear this cock was made for me." Her voice came out rough, raw with desire. "The thickness stretching my lips, the length hitting the back of my throat, the way it pulses when I kiss it… it's flawless." She squeezed his shaft possessively. "You're carrying a masterpiece between your legs."

Pathan's cock jerked violently at her words, leaking fresh precum.

Devika spat again—this time directly on the tip. The saliva pooled in the small slit before sliding down. She leaned forward and kissed that spot, her lips pressing against where fluid gathered.

Then she took just the head between her lips, creating a seal. Her tongue swirled around the crown while she sucked, hard enough that her cheeks hollowed visibly.

"Fuck!" Pathan's hips jerked. "Keep going madam, you're a goddess!"

Devika released the suction but kept her lips pressed to his tip. Her tongue extended, the pink muscle visible in the moonlight as it lapped at the precum beading there. She licked with deliberate slowness, cleaning every drop.

"Fuck… that tongue on my tip, licking up every drop… you're killing me," Pathan groaned, his voice breaking.

The words surprised Devika even as arousal spiked through her core. She recognized the pattern—dialogue lifted straight from the porn videos he admitted watching. The realization should have been awkward, should have broken the spell.

Instead it inflamed her further.

"God, your precum is delicious," she replied, matching his crude honesty with her own.

She kissed along his length again—not gentle reverent kisses now but hungry, open-mouthed contact. Her lips dragged across wet skin, tongue darting out to taste. When she reached his base, she brought his cock to her face.

Devika rubbed his dick all over her features—across her cheeks, along her jaw, over her lips and nose. The mess of saliva and precum smeared everywhere, marking her skin.

"Fuck… this is the most perfect dick I've ever had between my lips…" She punctuated each word with more rubbing, lost in the debasement. "So big, so hard, pulsing against my tongue… I love how you leak for me, how you throb when I take you deeper… you taste so fucking good, I could do this for hours."

She gripped his shaft and began beating it against her lips—tap, tap, tap in rhythmic strikes. Then she moved to her cheeks, slapping his wet cock against first one side then the other. The sounds echoed obscenely.

Devika puckered her lips into an exaggerated pout and beat his dick against them repeatedly. The soft flesh gave under each impact, creating a lewd percussion that made Pathan moan continuously.

Her tongue came out next—extended fully as she licked all over his length. She worked methodically, coating every inch with fresh saliva. When she reached his base, she lifted his cock higher.

The underside of his shaft gleamed in moonlight. Devika's tongue traced along it slowly, following the thick vein from base to tip. The flat of her tongue dragged across sensitive skin, making Pathan's entire body shudder.

"Oh fuck… your tongue is perfect…" His words tumbled out between moans. "So soft yet so firm, tracing every vein, swirling around the ridge… I can feel you savoring me… you're making this cock pulse like crazy… don't stop, I love what you do with that tongue."

Hearing his encouragement, Devika increased her efforts. She licked with abandon, her tongue exploring places she'd never thought to taste before. The underside of his shaft, the sensitive spot where head met base, the ridge that defined his crown—all received thorough attention.

Finally she took him back into her mouth.

This time Pathan's hands tightened in her hair with purpose. His hips began moving, thrusting in shallow strokes that pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. The motion caught Devika by surprise—suddenly he was fucking her face rather than receiving passive pleasure.

His dick hit the back of her throat with each thrust. The impact made her gag, her body's natural reflex triggering despite her willingness. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, spilling over to mix with rain and saliva.

"Keep gagging on it… ahhh… yes…" Pathan's moans grew ragged as he felt her throat constrict around him.

He maintained the rhythm for several more thrusts before suddenly stopping. He pulled his cock from her mouth completely, his chest heaving.

Devika gasped for air, breathing hard. Saliva hung from her lips in thick strands. Her makeup—what remained after the rain—ran in dark streaks down her cheeks.

"Fuck… too deep, hitting my throat…" She coughed slightly, her voice hoarse.

"Sorry, can't control—"

"Don't be sorry." Devika cut him off, her eyes blazing. "This is new experience for me." She gripped his thighs for balance. "Just again let me take you deep."

Without waiting for response, she opened her mouth and guided his cock back inside. This time she controlled the depth, holding his thighs firmly as she pushed forward. Inch by inch his length disappeared until her nose pressed against his pelvis.

His entire cock buried in her throat.

"Fuck madam, your throat feels like heaven…" Pathan's moan broke on the words. "So warm, so tight, taking every inch like you were made for this cock."

Devika held the position, her throat convulsing around his girth. She couldn't breathe with him this deep, but the deprivation added to the overwhelming sensory experience. She felt every pulse of his heartbeat through the organ lodged in her throat.

"You're taking me so deep, so perfect…" Pathan's hands gentled in her hair, almost reverent now. "I can feel your throat pulsing around me—pure fucking magic."

She held for several more seconds before pulling back. His cock emerged coated in thick saliva, strings connecting them as she gasped for breath. Her eyes—watering and smudged with mascara—lifted to meet his.

"Those eyes looking up at me… fuck, you're killing me."

Devika smiled through the mess, pleased by his reaction. But she wasn't finished.

She shifted lower, her attention moving to his balls. Holding his cock in one hand, she bent further and extended her tongue. The first lick across his sack made Pathan's knees buckle slightly.

"Ahhh..." His moan carried a different quality now—surprised pleasure mixing with overwhelming sensation.

Devika licked again, her tongue exploring the wrinkled skin. Then she opened her mouth and took one of his balls inside, sucking gently.

The sensation nearly undid Pathan completely. Her warm mouth engulfed his testicle, tongue swirling around it while maintaining careful suction. She released it with a wet pop before taking the other, giving it equal attention.

"These balls are heavy," she murmured against his skin. "You need this."

She alternated between them—sucking one then the other, occasionally taking both into her mouth at once. Her tongue worked continuously, lapping at sensitive flesh while her hand stroked his shaft.

Then she moved lower still.

Her tongue traced the area beneath his balls—that sensitive strip of skin that made Pathan jerk violently. She licked with broad strokes, getting closer and closer to forbidden territory.

When her tongue grazed the puckered skin of his anus, Pathan's moan echoed across the water—shocked and overwhelmed in equal measure.

Devika smiled against his skin, pleased by his reaction. She didn't linger there long—just enough contact to drive him wild—before working her way back up to his balls.

Thirty minutes dissolved into this worship. Devika knelt in the mud, rain reduced to occasional drizzle now, lavishing attention on Pathan's cock and balls with single-minded devotion. She alternated between techniques—sucking, licking, kissing, rubbing him against her face. Each variation drew fresh moans and increasingly desperate sounds.

Finally she rose to her feet.

Her knees protested the movement, stiff from kneeling so long. Pathan caught her immediately, his hands steadying her as she found her balance.

She pulled him into a kiss—deep and filthy, letting him taste himself on her tongue. Their mouths crashed together with renewed hunger, teeth clicking, tongues battling for dominance.

As they kissed, Devika became acutely aware of his cock pressing against her body. The hard length dragged across her exposed waist, leaving trails of saliva and precum. It rubbed against her navel, the heat of it shocking even through the remaining chill of rain-wet skin.

She ground against him, feeling his messy dick sliding across her belly. The sensation made her pussy clench with need—empty and aching for the hardness currently painting patterns on her skin.

Pathan's hands gripped her ass through wet saree, pulling her harder against him. His cock trapped between their bodies jerked and pulsed, leaking continuously now from her extended worship.

When they finally broke the kiss, both were panting. Devika looked down at the mess between them—his cock glistening obscenely, her waist marked with the evidence of their activities.

The drizzle had almost stopped completely now. Moonlight illuminated everything with crystalline clarity—the water lapping at the shore, the ancient tree sheltering them, their rain-soaked bodies pressed together.

"Devika..." Pathan's voice came out rough, desperate. "I need—"

"I know." She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I know what you need."

Her hand wrapped around his cock again, stroking slowly. Pathan's hips jerked into her grip, seeking more friction, more pressure, more everything.

"But not yet." Devika's smile turned wicked. "The night is still young."

She released him, stepping back despite his protest. Her hands moved to her saree, finding where the wet silk was tucked at her waist. With deliberate slowness, she began unwrapping the remaining layers.

Pathan watched, transfixed, as his Kerala goddess prepared to reveal everything the rain had only hinted at.

The night stretched ahead of them—hours of darkness and privacy and possibility. And Devika intended to use every single minute.