23-01-2026, 09:42 PM
After that agreement here Athidi getting some tense in her mind. She thinks inside "what I did is it correct or
No" like Athidi thinking on that day night while sleeping. And she after some time she herself thought "yes I
did right they tricked both me and Kamal.. Now I will do him as Gupta wife went to my husband and fucked
hard by Kamal.".
Later morning she came to know that shailaja reached to Kamal in Mumbai. She enquired by Gupta's satellite
phone and she confirmed. And she told to Kamal, Kamal fuck her just 3 days now i will watch... through
laptap.... Kamal replied " yes Athidi I will fuck her as They tricks us"..
The Mumbai evening was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to skin like a lover’s breath. Shailaja
stood just inside the doorway of Kamal’s modest Bandra flat, her cotton saree already sticking lightly to the
small of her back. She was thirty-six, still carrying the soft curves of early motherhood, her eyes large and
perpetually downcast, the same eyes that had made Gupta fall in love with her twelve years ago. Tonight
those eyes flickered with something else—nervous anticipation, shame, and a thin, reluctant thread of
curiosity.
Kamal closed the door behind her with a soft click. He was the same age as her husband, average height,
average build, average in every way Gupta had mockingly described him during that drunken late-night
phone call three days ago.
“Three days, Shailaja,” Gupta had said, voice thick with whisky and something darker. “You go to his house.
You stay. You submit. Everything. I want proof. Photos. Videos. Everything.”
She hadn’t argued. She never did.
Kamal stepped closer, not touching her yet. He smelled faintly of sandalwood soap and the filter coffee he’d
been drinking all afternoon.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said quietly. His voice was gentler than she expected.
Shailaja swallowed. “I… I’m not afraid.”
A small lie.
He lifted a hand slowly, brushed the edge of her pallu where it dbangd over her shoulder. The silk slid an inch.
She didn’t stop him.
“May I?” he asked.
She gave the tiniest nod.
He drew the pallu away inch by inch, letting the heavy maroon fabric pool at her elbow, then her wrist, then
the floor. Underneath was a simple cream blouse, hooks straining slightly over the fullness of her breasts.
Kamal’s fingers trembled as he opened the first hook. Then the second. When the blouse parted he exhaled
audibly.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
Shailaja’s breath hitched. No one except Gupta had ever spoken to her like that—soft, reverent.
He guided her backward until the backs of her knees met the edge of the low wooden bed. She sat. He knelt
between her legs, palms sliding up the outside of her thighs, bunching the saree higher. When he reached
the drawstring of her petticoat he paused again.
“Tell me to stop if you want,” he said.
She shook her head once. “Gupta… he wants this.”
Kamal’s jaw tightened for a second, then softened. “I’m not doing this for Gupta. I’m doing this because I’ve
wanted you since the first time I saw you at that Diwali party three years ago.”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t known.
He tugged the drawstring. The petticoat loosened. He peeled saree and petticoat away together until she sat
in just blouse and panties, skin prickling in the air-conditioned room. Kamal leaned in and kissed the hollow
of her throat—slow, open-mouthed. Shailaja’s head tipped back on a shaky sigh.
“Mmmh…”
He smiled against her skin. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
His mouth moved lower, kissing along the upper swell of her breast, then lower still until he reached the edge of her bra. He hooked a finger under the cup, drew it down. Her nipple was already tight, dark rose against
the creamy skin. He took it into his mouth without hurry—soft suction, then the flat of his tongue circling,
then gentle teeth.
“Ahh… Kamal…” Her voice cracked on his name, surprised at how easily it left her lips.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through her. His free hand slid between her thighs, cupping
her through the thin cotton of her panties. She was already damp. He pressed the heel of his palm against
her clit and rubbed in slow, firm circles.
Shailaja’s hips jerked. “Ohhh… oh god…”
“Feel good?” he murmured against her breast.
“Y-yes… please…”
He slipped two fingers under the leg-hole of her panties, found her slick folds, parted them gently. One finger
circled her entrance, then slid inside—slow, so slow. She clenched around him instantly.
“Haaah… deeper…” The plea surprised even her.
Kamal added a second finger, curling them upward, searching. When he found that spongy spot inside she
cried out sharply.
“Aaah! There—there—!”
He kept the angle, stroking steadily while his thumb found her clit
again. His mouth returned to hers now, kissing her deeply, swallowing
every little whimper and gasp. Shailaja’s hands finally moved—
clutching his shoulders, then sliding into his hair, holding him against
her mouth.
She came like that—sudden, shuddering, thighs clamping around his
wrist, a long broken moan tearing from her throat.
“Aaahhh… Kamal… ohhh… I’m… I’m coming…!”
He didn’t stop until the last tremor left her.
When she sagged back onto the bed he stripped quickly—shirt,
trousers, briefs. His cock sprang free—average length, but thick, the
head flushed dark. Shailaja stared, cheeks burning. It looked… honest.
Not intimidating like Gupta’s long, thin shaft that always made her
feel stretched too far.
Kamal climbed over her, settling between her thighs. He rubbed the
head of himself along her slit, coating himself in her wetness.
“Ready?” he asked, voice rough now.
She nodded, biting her lip.
No" like Athidi thinking on that day night while sleeping. And she after some time she herself thought "yes I
did right they tricked both me and Kamal.. Now I will do him as Gupta wife went to my husband and fucked
hard by Kamal.".
Later morning she came to know that shailaja reached to Kamal in Mumbai. She enquired by Gupta's satellite
phone and she confirmed. And she told to Kamal, Kamal fuck her just 3 days now i will watch... through
laptap.... Kamal replied " yes Athidi I will fuck her as They tricks us"..
The Mumbai evening was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to skin like a lover’s breath. Shailaja
stood just inside the doorway of Kamal’s modest Bandra flat, her cotton saree already sticking lightly to the
small of her back. She was thirty-six, still carrying the soft curves of early motherhood, her eyes large and
perpetually downcast, the same eyes that had made Gupta fall in love with her twelve years ago. Tonight
those eyes flickered with something else—nervous anticipation, shame, and a thin, reluctant thread of
curiosity.
Kamal closed the door behind her with a soft click. He was the same age as her husband, average height,
average build, average in every way Gupta had mockingly described him during that drunken late-night
phone call three days ago.
“Three days, Shailaja,” Gupta had said, voice thick with whisky and something darker. “You go to his house.
You stay. You submit. Everything. I want proof. Photos. Videos. Everything.”
She hadn’t argued. She never did.
Kamal stepped closer, not touching her yet. He smelled faintly of sandalwood soap and the filter coffee he’d
been drinking all afternoon.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said quietly. His voice was gentler than she expected.
Shailaja swallowed. “I… I’m not afraid.”
A small lie.
He lifted a hand slowly, brushed the edge of her pallu where it dbangd over her shoulder. The silk slid an inch.
She didn’t stop him.
“May I?” he asked.
She gave the tiniest nod.
He drew the pallu away inch by inch, letting the heavy maroon fabric pool at her elbow, then her wrist, then
the floor. Underneath was a simple cream blouse, hooks straining slightly over the fullness of her breasts.
Kamal’s fingers trembled as he opened the first hook. Then the second. When the blouse parted he exhaled
audibly.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
Shailaja’s breath hitched. No one except Gupta had ever spoken to her like that—soft, reverent.
He guided her backward until the backs of her knees met the edge of the low wooden bed. She sat. He knelt
between her legs, palms sliding up the outside of her thighs, bunching the saree higher. When he reached
the drawstring of her petticoat he paused again.
“Tell me to stop if you want,” he said.
She shook her head once. “Gupta… he wants this.”
Kamal’s jaw tightened for a second, then softened. “I’m not doing this for Gupta. I’m doing this because I’ve
wanted you since the first time I saw you at that Diwali party three years ago.”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t known.
He tugged the drawstring. The petticoat loosened. He peeled saree and petticoat away together until she sat
in just blouse and panties, skin prickling in the air-conditioned room. Kamal leaned in and kissed the hollow
of her throat—slow, open-mouthed. Shailaja’s head tipped back on a shaky sigh.
“Mmmh…”
He smiled against her skin. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
His mouth moved lower, kissing along the upper swell of her breast, then lower still until he reached the edge of her bra. He hooked a finger under the cup, drew it down. Her nipple was already tight, dark rose against
the creamy skin. He took it into his mouth without hurry—soft suction, then the flat of his tongue circling,
then gentle teeth.
“Ahh… Kamal…” Her voice cracked on his name, surprised at how easily it left her lips.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through her. His free hand slid between her thighs, cupping
her through the thin cotton of her panties. She was already damp. He pressed the heel of his palm against
her clit and rubbed in slow, firm circles.
Shailaja’s hips jerked. “Ohhh… oh god…”
“Feel good?” he murmured against her breast.
“Y-yes… please…”
He slipped two fingers under the leg-hole of her panties, found her slick folds, parted them gently. One finger
circled her entrance, then slid inside—slow, so slow. She clenched around him instantly.
“Haaah… deeper…” The plea surprised even her.
Kamal added a second finger, curling them upward, searching. When he found that spongy spot inside she
cried out sharply.
“Aaah! There—there—!”
He kept the angle, stroking steadily while his thumb found her clit
again. His mouth returned to hers now, kissing her deeply, swallowing
every little whimper and gasp. Shailaja’s hands finally moved—
clutching his shoulders, then sliding into his hair, holding him against
her mouth.
She came like that—sudden, shuddering, thighs clamping around his
wrist, a long broken moan tearing from her throat.
“Aaahhh… Kamal… ohhh… I’m… I’m coming…!”
He didn’t stop until the last tremor left her.
When she sagged back onto the bed he stripped quickly—shirt,
trousers, briefs. His cock sprang free—average length, but thick, the
head flushed dark. Shailaja stared, cheeks burning. It looked… honest.
Not intimidating like Gupta’s long, thin shaft that always made her
feel stretched too far.
Kamal climbed over her, settling between her thighs. He rubbed the
head of himself along her slit, coating himself in her wetness.
“Ready?” he asked, voice rough now.
She nodded, biting her lip.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)