22-01-2026, 01:22 AM
After one of Priya's hot sexual assult from their bank collegues she kept leave 2 days later going but
she felt so sad of video record and blackmailed... And aprove for loan. Next a message came to her
Your new master " come to this weekend for below address". She cried a lot innerly..
But outside She happily chit chat with mrunal... And mrunal also happily chit chat.. But innerly they both
suffering but can't open the pain....
After both Priya(jijina) and Vivek both went office that day... Still Mrunal not forgetting the farm house
encouters. Mrunal returned from the farmhouse after those three intense, shameful, secretly thrilling days
with Abhishek. Her body still carried faint marks—reddened patches on her inner thighs, a small love bite
just.. below her left breast that her saree pallu barely covered. She moved carefully around the house those
first few days, avoiding eye contact with Vivek for too long, convinced he knew nothing.
But Vivek already knew everything.
He had watched the videos Abhishek sent—multiple angles, close-ups of Mrunal’s trembling lips around
Abhishek’s cock, her heavy breasts bouncing as she rode him on the farmhouse sofa, her loud, broken moans
when he took her from behind against the window. Vivek had stroked himself raw to those clips, ashamed
and unbearably aroused at the same time. He said nothing to her. He simply waited.
Meanwhile, in the colony, Sruthi madam—38, commanding, always dbangd in crisp cotton sarees that showed
off her statuesque figure and deep navel—had been watching Mrunal for months. The way the 32-year-old
wife walked, hips swaying unconsciously, the way her saree blouse always seemed a little too tight across her
full breasts, the shy way she lowered her eyes when anyone complimented her beauty. Sruthi had decided
long ago that this conservative, homely woman needed to be peeled open like a ripe fruit.
And Meera, the 29-year-old maid who worked in three houses including Sruthi’s and Mrunal’s, had become
Sruthi’s willing accomplice.
It started innocently enough.
One afternoon Meera came to clean Mrunal’s house when Vivek was at the office. Mrunal was in the kitchen,
wearing a simple yellow cotton saree, pallu tucked tightly at her waist, midriff exposed as always when she
worked at home. Meera “accidentally” spilled a steel tumbler of water on Mrunal’s blouse while handing her
tea.
“Oh memsaab! Sorry sorry!” Meera gasped, immediately taking a dupatta from the sofa and pressing it
against Mrunal’s wet chest.
The white blouse had turned almost transparent. Mrunal’s black bra and the dark areolas were clearly visible.
Her nipples had hardened from the cold water and the sudden touch.
“Let me help you change, memsaab,” Meera said sweetly, already guiding Mrunal toward the bedroom.
Once inside, Meera locked the door quietly.
“Memsaab… your blouse is completely wet. You’ll catch a cold. Please remove it.”
Mrunal hesitated, cheeks burning. But Meera was already tugging at the safety pin, cooing, “Arre memsaab, I
see everything every day in other houses also. Nothing new.”
The wet blouse came off. Mrunal stood in her black bra and petticoat, arms instinctively covering her chest.
Meera’s eyes gleamed.
“Such beautiful skin… like milk,” she murmured, fingers brushing the underside of Mrunal’s heavy breasts as if
adjusting the bra strap. Mrunal shivered.
That was when Sruthi madam entered—without knocking.
She had been waiting in the next room, summoned by Meera’s missed call.
“Mrunal ji… everything okay?” Sruthi’s voice was smooth, authoritative.
Mrunal gasped, trying to cover herself with her pallu, but Sruthi stepped forward and gently but firmly pulled
her hands away.
“No need to be shy in front of us, dear. We’re all women here… almost,” Sruthi smiled wickedly, glancing at
the door where Vijay—tall, muscular, Meera’s husband—now stood, eyes dark with hunger.
Mrunal’s heart pounded. “Madam… please… I—”
“Shhh.” Sruthi placed one finger on Mrunal’s trembling lips. “You’ve been such a good, obedient wife all these
years. Don’t you think it’s time someone worshipped this body properly?”
Before Mrunal could protest, Meera had slipped behind her and unhooked the bra with practiced ease. The
heavy breasts spilled free—full, round, dark nipples already stiff. Sruthi cupped them immediately, thumbs
circling the areolas slowly.
“So soft… so full…” Sruthi whispered, bending down to take one nipple into her hot mouth.
Mrunal whimpered, knees buckling. Meera held her from behind, hands sliding down to untie the petticoat
knot. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving Mrunal in just her black panties—already damp at the crotch.
Vijay stepped closer, breathing heavily. Sruthi glanced at him. “Not yet, Vijay. First we taste her properly.”
Sruthi pushed Mrunal gently onto the bed on her back. Meera climbed up and pinned Mrunal’s wrists above
her head, straddling her face lightly—just enough to keep her from turning away.
Sruthi knelt between Mrunal’s thighs, hooked fingers into the waistband of the panties and peeled them
down inch by inch, exposing the neatly trimmed bush and glistening pink folds.
“Look how wet she already is,” Sruthi said to Vijay, spreading Mrunal’s thighs wider. “She wants this.”
Mrunal shook her head weakly, but her hips lifted involuntarily when Sruthi’s tongue made first contact—long,
slow lick from perineum to clit.
“Ahhh… madam… nooo…” Mrunal moaned, voice breaking.
Sruthi ignored her, burying her face deeper, tongue swirling around the swollen clit, then dipping inside the
dripping entrance. Meera leaned down and captured Mrunal’s mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing her cries.
Vijay couldn’t wait anymore. He shed his shirt and lunged for Mrunal’s breasts, sucking one nipple hard while
pinching the other. His rough hands kneaded the soft flesh, leaving red fingerprints.
Sruthi lifted her head, lips shiny with Mrunal’s juices. “Vijay… clean her navel first. She loves when someone
pays attention there.”
Vijay obeyed instantly. He dipped his tongue into Mrunal’s deep, oval navel, circling it, then sucking hard
enough to make her arch off the bed. At the same moment Sruthi returned to her pussy—two fingers sliding
inside, curling upward to find that spongy spot while her tongue lashed the clit mercilessly.
Mrunal was lost.
Her body jerked and trembled. Meera kept kissing her, pinching her nipples now, whispering filthy things in
her ear: “Memsaab… you look so beautiful when you’re being eaten… let go… cum for madam…”
When Mrunal finally came it was violent—thighs clamping around Sruthi’s head, back bowing, a long broken
wail escaping around Meera’s tongue. Juices gushed onto Sruthi’s chin.
They didn’t stop.
Sruthi climbed up, and breast sucking one by hot she is moaning heavily... Ufffff... Ufffff... Haaaa.... Noooo
..
Mrunal, dazed and still shaking, obeyed—tentative licks at first, then hungrier as Sruthi rocked against her
mouth.
Vijay positioned himself between Mrunal’s spread thighs, rubbing his thick cock against her soaked entrance.
“Should I, madam?” he asked Sruthi.
Sruthi looked down at Mrunal’s flushed, tear-streaked face buried between her legs.
“Yes,” she purred. “Fuck her slowly… let her feel every inch while she services me.”
As Vijay pushed inside—stretching her, filling her completely—Mrunal moaned into Sruthi’s pussy, the
vibration making Sruthi grind harder.
The room filled with wet sounds—slapping flesh, slurping tongues, broken whimpers and deep grunts.
Sruthi brought big strap on and by that she slowly fuck her by applied lubricant. Mrunal moan haaaaa
Slowly pushing... While he entered in mouth and Meera licking here and there.. Totally they used poor mrunal...
They took turns with her for the next two hours.
Meera sat on Mrunal’s face next while Vijay fucked her from behind, hands gripping her swaying breasts.
Sruthi used her fingers and tongue again, making Mrunal squirt for the first time in her life—shaking, crying,
begging them to stop and never stop at the same time.
When they finally finished, Mrunal lay sprawled on the bed—breasts red and swollen, navel glistening with
Vijay’s saliva, pussy puffy and leaking, thighs trembling.
Sruthi leaned down, kissed her softly on the lips—tasting herself on Mrunal’s tongue.
“Such a good girl,” she whispered. “This is just the beginning. Next time… we’ll do it in front of your husband.
I’m sure he’ll enjoy the show.”
Mrunal’s eyes widened in shock.
Sruthi only smiled, tracing a finger through the mess between Mrunal’s legs.
Mrunal closed her eyes, heart racing, body still humming.
She knew Sruthi was right.
And deep down… a shameful part of her couldn’t wait for the next time.
![[Image: IMG-20260122-WA0007.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/MxGzwdCX/IMG-20260122-WA0007.jpg)
![[Image: IMG-20260122-WA0006.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/fjjWM5K/IMG-20260122-WA0006.jpg)
she felt so sad of video record and blackmailed... And aprove for loan. Next a message came to her
Your new master " come to this weekend for below address". She cried a lot innerly..
But outside She happily chit chat with mrunal... And mrunal also happily chit chat.. But innerly they both
suffering but can't open the pain....
After both Priya(jijina) and Vivek both went office that day... Still Mrunal not forgetting the farm house
encouters. Mrunal returned from the farmhouse after those three intense, shameful, secretly thrilling days
with Abhishek. Her body still carried faint marks—reddened patches on her inner thighs, a small love bite
just.. below her left breast that her saree pallu barely covered. She moved carefully around the house those
first few days, avoiding eye contact with Vivek for too long, convinced he knew nothing.
But Vivek already knew everything.
He had watched the videos Abhishek sent—multiple angles, close-ups of Mrunal’s trembling lips around
Abhishek’s cock, her heavy breasts bouncing as she rode him on the farmhouse sofa, her loud, broken moans
when he took her from behind against the window. Vivek had stroked himself raw to those clips, ashamed
and unbearably aroused at the same time. He said nothing to her. He simply waited.
Meanwhile, in the colony, Sruthi madam—38, commanding, always dbangd in crisp cotton sarees that showed
off her statuesque figure and deep navel—had been watching Mrunal for months. The way the 32-year-old
wife walked, hips swaying unconsciously, the way her saree blouse always seemed a little too tight across her
full breasts, the shy way she lowered her eyes when anyone complimented her beauty. Sruthi had decided
long ago that this conservative, homely woman needed to be peeled open like a ripe fruit.
And Meera, the 29-year-old maid who worked in three houses including Sruthi’s and Mrunal’s, had become
Sruthi’s willing accomplice.
It started innocently enough.
One afternoon Meera came to clean Mrunal’s house when Vivek was at the office. Mrunal was in the kitchen,
wearing a simple yellow cotton saree, pallu tucked tightly at her waist, midriff exposed as always when she
worked at home. Meera “accidentally” spilled a steel tumbler of water on Mrunal’s blouse while handing her
tea.
“Oh memsaab! Sorry sorry!” Meera gasped, immediately taking a dupatta from the sofa and pressing it
against Mrunal’s wet chest.
The white blouse had turned almost transparent. Mrunal’s black bra and the dark areolas were clearly visible.
Her nipples had hardened from the cold water and the sudden touch.
“Let me help you change, memsaab,” Meera said sweetly, already guiding Mrunal toward the bedroom.
Once inside, Meera locked the door quietly.
“Memsaab… your blouse is completely wet. You’ll catch a cold. Please remove it.”
Mrunal hesitated, cheeks burning. But Meera was already tugging at the safety pin, cooing, “Arre memsaab, I
see everything every day in other houses also. Nothing new.”
The wet blouse came off. Mrunal stood in her black bra and petticoat, arms instinctively covering her chest.
Meera’s eyes gleamed.
“Such beautiful skin… like milk,” she murmured, fingers brushing the underside of Mrunal’s heavy breasts as if
adjusting the bra strap. Mrunal shivered.
That was when Sruthi madam entered—without knocking.
She had been waiting in the next room, summoned by Meera’s missed call.
“Mrunal ji… everything okay?” Sruthi’s voice was smooth, authoritative.
Mrunal gasped, trying to cover herself with her pallu, but Sruthi stepped forward and gently but firmly pulled
her hands away.
“No need to be shy in front of us, dear. We’re all women here… almost,” Sruthi smiled wickedly, glancing at
the door where Vijay—tall, muscular, Meera’s husband—now stood, eyes dark with hunger.
Mrunal’s heart pounded. “Madam… please… I—”
“Shhh.” Sruthi placed one finger on Mrunal’s trembling lips. “You’ve been such a good, obedient wife all these
years. Don’t you think it’s time someone worshipped this body properly?”
Before Mrunal could protest, Meera had slipped behind her and unhooked the bra with practiced ease. The
heavy breasts spilled free—full, round, dark nipples already stiff. Sruthi cupped them immediately, thumbs
circling the areolas slowly.
“So soft… so full…” Sruthi whispered, bending down to take one nipple into her hot mouth.
Mrunal whimpered, knees buckling. Meera held her from behind, hands sliding down to untie the petticoat
knot. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving Mrunal in just her black panties—already damp at the crotch.
Vijay stepped closer, breathing heavily. Sruthi glanced at him. “Not yet, Vijay. First we taste her properly.”
Sruthi pushed Mrunal gently onto the bed on her back. Meera climbed up and pinned Mrunal’s wrists above
her head, straddling her face lightly—just enough to keep her from turning away.
Sruthi knelt between Mrunal’s thighs, hooked fingers into the waistband of the panties and peeled them
down inch by inch, exposing the neatly trimmed bush and glistening pink folds.
“Look how wet she already is,” Sruthi said to Vijay, spreading Mrunal’s thighs wider. “She wants this.”
Mrunal shook her head weakly, but her hips lifted involuntarily when Sruthi’s tongue made first contact—long,
slow lick from perineum to clit.
“Ahhh… madam… nooo…” Mrunal moaned, voice breaking.
Sruthi ignored her, burying her face deeper, tongue swirling around the swollen clit, then dipping inside the
dripping entrance. Meera leaned down and captured Mrunal’s mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing her cries.
Vijay couldn’t wait anymore. He shed his shirt and lunged for Mrunal’s breasts, sucking one nipple hard while
pinching the other. His rough hands kneaded the soft flesh, leaving red fingerprints.
Sruthi lifted her head, lips shiny with Mrunal’s juices. “Vijay… clean her navel first. She loves when someone
pays attention there.”
Vijay obeyed instantly. He dipped his tongue into Mrunal’s deep, oval navel, circling it, then sucking hard
enough to make her arch off the bed. At the same moment Sruthi returned to her pussy—two fingers sliding
inside, curling upward to find that spongy spot while her tongue lashed the clit mercilessly.
Mrunal was lost.
Her body jerked and trembled. Meera kept kissing her, pinching her nipples now, whispering filthy things in
her ear: “Memsaab… you look so beautiful when you’re being eaten… let go… cum for madam…”
When Mrunal finally came it was violent—thighs clamping around Sruthi’s head, back bowing, a long broken
wail escaping around Meera’s tongue. Juices gushed onto Sruthi’s chin.
They didn’t stop.
Sruthi climbed up, and breast sucking one by hot she is moaning heavily... Ufffff... Ufffff... Haaaa.... Noooo
..
Mrunal, dazed and still shaking, obeyed—tentative licks at first, then hungrier as Sruthi rocked against her
mouth.
Vijay positioned himself between Mrunal’s spread thighs, rubbing his thick cock against her soaked entrance.
“Should I, madam?” he asked Sruthi.
Sruthi looked down at Mrunal’s flushed, tear-streaked face buried between her legs.
“Yes,” she purred. “Fuck her slowly… let her feel every inch while she services me.”
As Vijay pushed inside—stretching her, filling her completely—Mrunal moaned into Sruthi’s pussy, the
vibration making Sruthi grind harder.
The room filled with wet sounds—slapping flesh, slurping tongues, broken whimpers and deep grunts.
Sruthi brought big strap on and by that she slowly fuck her by applied lubricant. Mrunal moan haaaaa
Slowly pushing... While he entered in mouth and Meera licking here and there.. Totally they used poor mrunal...
They took turns with her for the next two hours.
Meera sat on Mrunal’s face next while Vijay fucked her from behind, hands gripping her swaying breasts.
Sruthi used her fingers and tongue again, making Mrunal squirt for the first time in her life—shaking, crying,
begging them to stop and never stop at the same time.
When they finally finished, Mrunal lay sprawled on the bed—breasts red and swollen, navel glistening with
Vijay’s saliva, pussy puffy and leaking, thighs trembling.
Sruthi leaned down, kissed her softly on the lips—tasting herself on Mrunal’s tongue.
“Such a good girl,” she whispered. “This is just the beginning. Next time… we’ll do it in front of your husband.
I’m sure he’ll enjoy the show.”
Mrunal’s eyes widened in shock.
Sruthi only smiled, tracing a finger through the mess between Mrunal’s legs.
Mrunal closed her eyes, heart racing, body still humming.
She knew Sruthi was right.
And deep down… a shameful part of her couldn’t wait for the next time.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)