14-02-2026, 02:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 14-02-2026, 03:07 PM by heygiwriter. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Chapter 98 – The Training Begins - Dominant Bharath and Submissive Mirna
Goa
Bharath looked at Mirnaa.
The beauty he wanted to conquer was right before him.
He didn’t want to trick her further. He didn’t want to lie anymore.
She was ready — right before him — to surrender herself completely.
He had made the so-called powerful Vikram himself push her into his arms.
And she had already cheated on him — with me.
Poor girl… she bought everything. She thinks I’m in love with her.
He could not contain his happiness — but he calmed down.
His intent was clear: to enjoy the innocence of exploring the beauty of sex with her… slowly, brutally, fully.
He sat with his back against the headboard — legs spread — and pulled Mirnaa into his arms.
His hands rested possessively on her shoulders, thumbs brushing the soft skin at the base of her neck.
He began — voice low, commanding, but laced with a dangerous tenderness:
“Mirna… I don’t care what rules you and Vikram had set.
But in bed — only I dictate the rules.
I know you have fears. You have fear of pain.
But you need to trust me fully. You need to surrender to me fully.
You should not call me Bharath. You should call me my love… darling…
I’m your husband here — not Vikram. You got it?”
Mirnaa looked at him — eyes wide — and nodded slowly.
“I know you just did regular sex with Vikram. You hadn’t had anything new, right?”
Mirnaa nodded — cheeks flushing.
“I’m your master here. You are my student… sometimes a slave who just follows directions.
Shall I start the class? The discussion?”
Mirnaa — voice soft:
“Okay…”
Bharath looked at her pointedly.
She realised — and corrected herself:
“Okay… my love.”
“Good girl,” Bharath said — a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Sex is a fantastic feeling. Many don’t live it fully.
People often confuse everything, Mirnaa — between acts, positions, and relationship dynamics.
Let me teach you — and start from there.”
He paused — letting the words sink in.
“First — there are sexual acts. Then there are sexual positions. Then there is relationship dynamics.”
Mirnaa looked confused.
Bharath smiled — patient.
“Sexual acts have three categories: Penetration, Oral, Manual.
What we did last night is penetration — vaginal penetration. There is one more — anal penetration. Which you know.”
“For Oral — it’s when we use our mouth to satisfy the other partner. Like you suck my cock… or I lick your vagina.”
“Manual — instead of mouth, we use fingers. Like I finger you… and you give me a handjob. Sometimes couples do it simultaneously.”
“So — in the above three — what all have you done?”
Mirnaa was shy — cheeks burning.
He pressed her breast gently — voice firm:
“Tell me soon.”
She swallowed — voice barely audible:
“Of course… both penetration… but anal not fully.”
Bharath:
“Oral?”
She shook her head:
“No… Vikram once tried. I felt salty… I said no.”
Bharath — mock pity:
“Poor Vikram.”
She looked up — worried:
“Will he be disappointed?”
Bharath:
“He must have loved you the most. How in the world a man doesn’t get a blowjob?”
“Did he lick you… on your vagina?”
Mirnaa:
“Yes… sometimes.”
Bharath:
“What about manual?”
Mirnaa — even shyer:
“Yes… we have done. I mean… I do in my hand — not to disappoint him. If he cannot have it in my mouth…”
“Did he finger you?”
Mirnaa:
“He tried… but I felt tingling feeling… so I used to avoid. Instead I will ask him to come inside me.”
Bharath — in his mind: Poor Vikram… my lies are becoming true. She made him miserable.
He said aloud:
“Now I realise why he wanted you to open.”
“If you didn’t satisfy him with all these — there are sexual positions like 69, doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, spooning… and lot more.”
Mirnaa:
“What are all this?”
Bharath smiled:
“I will explain you.”
“Did you guys do like what I did last night?”
Mirnaa:
“No…”
Bharath:
“That’s spooning… side-by-side position.”
“Mirnaa… it’s really long way to go.
Only after introducing it — I can teach you on relationship dynamics.
But I fear we may need more time. Goa time may not be enough.”
Mirnaa smiled — soft, trusting:
“Time duration… I will leave it up to you…”
Mirnaa asked:
“What are you starting with?”
Bharath — voice firm:
“You have no rights to question. Just follow what I tell you.”
“Let’s start slow. First — let’s explore our body. Remove my shirt and my inners.”
Mirnaa looked at him.
“Do it, baby.”
She rose from her place — unbuttoned him. When the first button was done —
He asked:
“What are you doing?”
She said:
“I’m unbuttoning.”
He said:
“No. Kiss my chest whenever a button is unbuttoned. The exposing area — kiss it.”
Mirnaa’s cheeks blushed.
Every button she undid — she kissed the exposed area of his chest.
He said:
“Good girl.”
“Now — remove my inner.”
Her hands trembled.
He guided her hand to his V-cut brief boxer. She pulled it down — his thick, big cock danced and popped into her hand. He was fully nude.
She looked at him.
“Kiss it,” he said.
She bent her head — kissed it.
“Hold with your hand.”
She did — face blushing, turning pink.
She was already sitting on her knees between his legs.
He said:
“Every night when I come — you need to consider this as rituals. Got it?”
She shook her head — yes.
“Look at my penis — the state because of you. It rode you last night. It needs you every night.”
She still blushed.
Bharath said:
“Now it’s my turn. Come closer.”
Mirnaa moved her knees forward — closer to him.
Bharath’s eyes darkened with raw hunger as he stared down at her — sprawled beneath him, chest heaving, skin flushed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the earlier pounding. The room was thick with their mingled scent: salt from the beach still clinging to their hair, the sharp musk of arousal, the faint metallic tang of exertion.
He leaned in close — lips brushing the shell of her ear — voice a low, gravelly rasp:
“You liked my roughness right?”
Before she could answer, his hands shot to the hem of her thin top. Fingers curled under the fabric — knuckles grazing the soft undercurve of her breasts — and he ripped upward in one violent, decisive motion. The cotton tore with a sharp, satisfying sound — threads snapping — exposing her bra-clad chest to the humid air.
Mirnaa gasped — eyes flying wide — stunned into stillness. The torn top hung in ragged strips from her shoulders like battle flags. Her breasts strained against the black lace bra — nipples already peaked and visible through the thin material, begging for attention.
Bharath didn’t pause. He yanked her forward by the ruined fabric — pulling her upright — until she collided against his bare chest with a soft thud. Her breasts crushed against him — lace scbanging his skin — heat pouring between them.
His hands moved behind her back with practiced cruelty. Fingers found the clasp — pinched — twisted — and the bra snapped open in an instant. The straps slid down her arms like surrender. Her heavy breasts spilled free — bouncing once — twice — full and soft and impossibly round, nipples dark and stiff in the cool air.
He didn’t give her time to breathe.
Both hands claimed her at once — palms rough, fingers splayed wide — cupping the undersides and lifting them like offerings. Thumbs dragged hard across her nipples — once, twice — before he pinched them between forefinger and thumb. Hard. Twisting just enough to make her back bow.
“Aaahhhh…!”
The sound tore from her throat — half pain, half plea — high and shattered.
Bharath growled low in his throat — primal — and pulled her higher. He buried his face between her breasts — inhaling the warm, sweet scent of her skin — then latched onto one swollen nipple with his mouth. Teeth grazed the sensitive peak — then bit down — not breaking skin, but firm enough to sting.
He circled each nipple with his tounge and gave a bite and took each breast into his mouth .
![[Image: Gif-chupando-peitinho-90.gif]](https://xporn-gifs.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Gif-chupando-peitinho-90.gif)
He sucked hard — tongue lashing the bud — drawing it deep — trying to devour as much of her as he could fit.
Her hands flew to his hair — fingers tangling — pulling — unsure if she wanted to push him away or drag him closer.
He switched — mouth moving to the other breast — same ruthless attention — biting, sucking, tongue swirling until both nipples were swollen, red, glistening with his spit.
![[Image: image-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/50211/image-scaled.webp)
He pressed them together — creating deep cleavage — and dragged his tongue through the valley — slow, wet, possessive — tasting the salt of her skin.
After long minutes of relentless play — kneading, crushing, rolling her nipples until she was whimpering continuously — he lifted his head just enough to speak against her flushed sternum:
“As I said in flight… your breasts… my goodness… so big.”
His voice was thick with lust — almost reverent.
“Look how lucky your ex-husband is, bastard.”
Mirnaa’s face flamed — eyes glassy — caught between humiliation and a dark, blooming arousal at the word ex-husband. Her lips parted — breath shallow — but no protest came.
Bharath’s smile was slow — predatory.
He lowered his head again — took one nipple back between his teeth — tugged gently — then harder — watching her arch, watching her body betray her every time he pushed the edge of pain into pleasure.
The air between them crackled — thick with heat, salt, and the unspoken promise of more.
He hadn’t even entered her again yet — and she was already trembling on the brink.
Mirnaa flushed:
“Ex-husband?”
Bharath:
“I’m your husband here.”
“Tell me — who am I?”
Mirnaa:
“My husband.”
Bharath:
“That’s how it should be.”
Bharath’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties — fingers brushing the soft curls before finding her slick, swollen entrance. He teased her slowly at first — the pad of his middle finger circling her clit once, twice — light, maddening pressure that made her hips jerk upward in helpless need.
Her body trembled immediately — thighs quivering, breath hitching in sharp little gasps. She tried to close her legs instinctively, but he wedged his knee between them — keeping her open.
“No… Bharath…” Her voice was small, pleading — half protest, half prayer.
Bharath’s eyes darkened — voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble:
“There is no ‘no’ from you.”
He leaned down — lips brushing her ear — hot breath sending shivers down her spine.
“You need to endure it. And act like what your husband wants.”
His free hand fisted in her hair — yanked her head back sharply — exposing the long line of her throat. She whimpered — back arching — breasts thrusting upward as the sting bloomed into heat.
At the same moment — two fingers plunged inside her without warning.
Her body jolted — inner walls fluttering around the sudden intrusion — a wet, obscene sound filling the room as he curled them upward, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside. She cried out — high and broken — hips bucking against his hand even as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
He didn’t stop.
He pumped his fingers faster — thick, relentless — the heel of his palm grinding against her clit with every thrust. Her juices coated his hand — dripping down his wrist — the slick sounds growing louder, filthier.
Mirnaa’s moans turned frantic — body shaking uncontrollably — breasts bouncing wildly with each jerk of his wrist. Her nipples were dark, swollen peaks — begging for attention — but he ignored them, focused only on the wet heat between her legs.
He released her hair — let her head fall back to the pillow — then yanked her panties down in one rough motion. The fabric tore slightly at the seam — he didn’t care. He shoved her thighs apart — pushed her flat on her back — and knelt between them.
“You never allowed him fingering, right?” His voice was thick with satisfaction. “That is where I’m going to start.”
He plunged three fingers back inside her this time — stretching her wider — thumb circling her clit in tight, ruthless spirals. Her hips lifted off the bed — chasing the pressure — chasing the burn — chasing the unbearable pleasure-pain that was quickly unraveling her.
Her body shakes, her breast bounces when he fingers
![[Image: orgasm-face-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/191012/orgasm-face-scaled.webp)
Her moans turned into sobs — body trembling on the edge — inner walls clamping down around his fingers like she was trying to keep him inside forever.
“Bharath… no… no… please… please… insert yours… please… I need you…”
He slowed — fingers curling lazily inside her — watching her writhe.
“No,” he said — voice calm, cruel. “I won’t. Until you promise me.”
Mirnaa’s head thrashed — tears slipping down her temples — hips grinding desperately against his hand.
“What… promise?”
Bharath leaned down — lips brushing hers — fingers still buried deep, still moving just enough to torment.
“Promise me you will always love me.”
“Always have sex with me — even if Vikram is around.”
She sobbed — body shaking — so close — so desperate —
“I promise…” she gasped — voice wrecked. “I promise…”
He smiled — dark, triumphant.
“You want me to have a rough one… or softer one?”
Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered — tears clinging to lashes — body trembling on the precipice.
“Rough…” she begged — voice cracking. “Rough… please…”
“Here we go, baby.”
Bharath positioned himself between her legs — spread her thighs wider with firm hands, thumbs pressing into the soft inner flesh until faint red imprints bloomed like ownership marks.
He teased the thick head of his cock along her slick entrance — once, twice — letting her feel the blunt, heavy pressure without mercy, watching her hips lift instinctively, chasing the stretch she both feared and craved.
“I’m going to enter,” he said, voice low and final. “I won’t be soft this time.”
Mirnaa’s breath hitched — eyes wide, pupils blown dark with arousal and nerves. Her hands clutched the sheets — knuckles white — body already trembling from the earlier fingering.
One deep, unyielding push — he sank to the root in a single stroke.
She cried out sharply:
“Ahhhhh… Bharath… slow… please…”
The stretch burned — sudden, overwhelming — her walls fluttering desperately around the thick invasion, trying to adjust to his size. Pain flared bright at the entrance, sharp and hot, radiating inward. She tried to twist away — thighs quivering — but he pinned her hips with his weight, keeping her open, keeping her full.
“You wanted it hard, right, baby?” he growled against her ear — breath hot, voice rough with restraint.
She whimpered — “Yes… but… it hurts a little…”
He kissed her roughly — swallowing the protest — tongue claiming her mouth as his hips snapped forward again — hard — bottoming out with a wet, obscene slap. Every withdrawal dragged along her sensitive front wall; every re-entry forced a gasp from her throat — pain blooming into something hotter, fuller, deeper.
Missionary — raw and deep.
He pinned her wrists above her head with one large hand, fingers locked around both of her slim forearms like manacles — the other braced beside her ear, caging her completely beneath his weight.
![[Image: missionary_001.gif]](https://porngipfy.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/missionary_001.gif)
Every thrust drove the air from her lungs in sharp, staccato gasps. Skin slapped skin — loud, wet, rhythmic — the obscene sound echoing off the villa walls, mingling with the distant crash of waves. Her full breasts bounced helplessly with each impact, nipples stiff and dark, grazing the hard planes of his chest again and again — the friction sending white-hot sparks racing through her overstimulated nerves.
She tried to twist — hips wriggling sideways to ease the relentless pressure against her cervix — but he simply shifted his weight, hips pinning hers flat to the mattress, forcing her to take every punishing inch exactly as he gave it. His cock ground deep — thick and unyielding — dragging along her front wall on the outstroke, slamming home on the instroke until she felt him in her throat.
“Feel it,” he ordered — voice thick with lust, gravel-rough against her ear. “Every fucking inch. This is how you take your husband.”
Her legs — trembling, slick with sweat — wrapped instinctively around his waist. Heels dug into the small of his back — nails scoring red lines down his shoulders — pulling him deeper even as fresh tears pricked the corners of her eyes. The initial burn had been sharp, almost too much — her body protesting the sudden, brutal fullness — but now pain throbbed bright and hot before melting, over and over, into something darker, liquid, addictive. Each deep grind against her cervix sent a jolt of mingled ache and pleasure spiraling up her spine.
She moaned — broken, needy — the sound rising higher with every thrust. Her hips began to rise — tentative at first — then desperate — chasing the ache, chasing the fullness, chasing the way he filled every empty space inside her until she couldn’t tell where the hurt ended and the hunger began.
Minutes stretched into an endless haze — sweat slicked their bodies, dripping from his brow onto her collarbone, pooling in the valley between her bouncing breasts. Her cries turned rhythmic, desperate — half-sobs, half-pleas — “Bharath… too much… please…” — even as her pussy clenched greedily around him, betraying every word.
He didn’t slow.
He didn’t soften.
Instead — when her moans became a continuous, shattered wail — Bharath hooked his arms under her knees. With a low growl he lifted her legs high and wide — folding her almost in half beneath him — ankles framing her own flushed face. The butterfly position tilted her pelvis upward — exposing her completely — letting him sink impossibly deeper with every brutal stroke.
Her eyes rolled back — mouth falling open in a silent scream — nails clawing uselessly at his biceps as the new angle drove the head of his cock directly against her cervix with punishing precision. Pain flared white-hot — then burst into blinding pleasure — her body shaking violently beneath him.
“Bharath… too deep… slow… please…”
![[Image: athletic-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/229696/athletic-scaled.webp)
He fucked her harder — watching her face contort, tears slipping down her temples into her hair — her breasts jiggling wildly with each slam — nipples so hard they ached. Her pussy fluttered and clenched — dripping down onto the sheets — the wet slap of their bodies growing louder, filthier.
“You’re taking it so well,” he growled — eyes locked on where they joined — watching his thick shaft disappear inside her over and over, glistening with her arousal. “Look how wet you are… your pussy fucking loves the pain.”
She sobbed — voice cracking — “It hurts… but… don’t stop… don’t stop…”
He didn’t.
The room filled with her broken cries — skin slapping — bed creaking — waves crashing outside — indifferent to the way he was breaking her open, reshaping her, claiming every trembling inch of her body as his.
And still — he kept going.
Next — he pulled out abruptly — cock glistening with her arousal — flipped her onto her side — hooked one of her legs over his shoulder — entered her sideways.
“Sideways,” he said — voice thick. “Feel how it drags inside you.”
![[Image: hot-chick-with-beautiful-bouncing-breast...caled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/255116/hot-chick-with-beautiful-bouncing-breasts-fucks-intensely-scaled.webp)
The angle changed again — cock stroking her front wall with every thrust — hitting her G-spot mercilessly. Her moans turned high and frantic — body trembling — another orgasm building fast, unstoppable.
“Bharath… I’m… I’m going to…”
“Come,” he commanded — hand wrapping around her throat — not choking — just holding — possessive. “Come on my cock.”
She shattered — walls pulsing violently — gushing around him — crying his name. Tears streamed freely now — pain and pleasure so intertwined she couldn’t separate them.
He kept going — slower now — letting her ride the aftershocks — then faster again — pushing her through a second, weaker climax that left her limp and shaking.
he stopped looking at her surrendered face.. he left her alone for few minutes checked his phone and switched off it
he also grabbed mirnas mobile and turned it off.
he had not reached high yet, he smild at her just fw more minutes
he came to bed gain
He dragged her like a ragdoll — hand fisted in her hair — pulled her up onto all fours — then pushed her chest down to the mattress — ass high.
“Face-down ass-up,” he said — voice thick. “Missionary variation. Vaginal entry from back Take it.”
![[Image: 13573913.gif?width=460]](https://imagex1.sx.cdn.live/images/pinporn/2015/08/18/13573913.gif?width=460)
He slammed back in — one hand pressing her head into the pillow — other gripping her hip — pounding with animalistic force. The bedframe banged against the wall. Her muffled screams vibrated through the fabric.
She pushed back — meeting every thrust — body slick with sweat — begging incoherently:
“More… please… don’t stop… own me…”
He crashed harder — hips pistoning — cock swelling — until he came with a guttural groan — flooding her again — hot, deep pulses that made her shudder through one final, shattered orgasm.
They collapsed — his body heavy on hers — cock still buried deep — twitching with aftershocks.
Breaths ragged. Skin slick. The room smelled of sex and salt and complete surrender.
He kissed the back of her neck — voice rough, satisfied:
“Good girl… you took it all. I love you”
Mirnaa — voice wrecked, barely audible:
“Love you too my husband…”
After the final shuddering climax, the room fell into a heavy, humid silence — broken only by their ragged breathing and the distant, rhythmic crash of waves outside. Bharath stayed buried deep inside her for long moments — softening slowly, but never pulling out completely. His weight pressed her into the mattress — possessive, grounding — while her body trembled with aftershocks, thighs slick, core still fluttering around him.
Mirnaa lay beneath him, dazed, skin flushed and glistening.
The intensity had left her raw — every nerve singing, every muscle loose and quivering. After a few minutes, she shifted uncomfortably — the fullness inside her starting to feel too much, too constant. A soft, uneasy whimper escaped her lips.
She turned her back to him — curling slightly onto her side — knees drawing up, trying to ease the tender ache between her legs.
Bharath felt the shift immediately. He didn’t protest — simply withdrew slowly, carefully — letting her feel the drag of every inch as he slipped free. A small gush of their combined release followed — warm, thick — trickling down her inner thigh. He gave her space — rolling onto his back beside her — one arm resting behind his head, the other lying open in quiet invitation.
Mirnaa exhaled shakily — body still humming — then rolled onto her back again, legs parting slightly as if unsure what to do with themselves. The cool air kissed her overheated skin, making her shiver.
Bharath turned toward her — eyes dark, possessive — and moved over her once more. Not to enter — not yet — but to claim her mouth in a slow, deep good-night kiss.
His lips sealed over hers — gentle at first — then deeper — tongue stroking lazily, tasting the salt of her tears and the sweetness of her surrender.
She kissed back — soft, tired — until her eyes fluttered open and she froze.
![[Image: kissing_004.gif]](https://porngifmag.com/content/2018/12/kissing_004.gif)
His cock — thick, heavy, already hardening again — pressed insistently against her inner thigh.
Mirnaa’s breath caught — panic flickering in her wide eyes.
“Are you… human… or animal?” she whispered — half in disbelief, half in exhausted awe.
Bharath chuckled low against her lips — the sound vibrating through her chest.
“Consider me your animal,” he murmured — voice rough with renewed hunger.
Before she could protest, he shifted — aligned himself — and pushed back inside her in one slow, deliberate slide.
Her walls — still swollen, still sensitive — stretched around him again. She gasped — fingers digging into his shoulders — body instinctively arching to take him deeper even as a small whimper escaped.
They both smiled — tired, sated, conspiratorial — faces inches apart.
He settled fully inside her — hips flush to hers — cock buried to the hilt — hot and thick and unyielding.
He realized her uneasiness quickly..
“No,” he whispered — brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “I’m just going to sleep like this.”
Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered — heavy with exhaustion — but a small, dazed smile curved her lips.
Her vagina was full — hot semen from earlier still leaking around him, mixing with fresh arousal — his dick deep inside, pulsing faintly with every heartbeat.
In half-sleep — voices soft, slurred with fatigue — they murmured.
Bharath — lips against her temple:
“Tomorrow morning… oral session. I will train you deep.”
Mirnaa — barely audible, already drifting:
“Okay… my love…”
He kissed her once more — slow, lingering — then let his head rest beside hers.
The clock glowed 2:30 AM.
They slept tangled, joined, claimed — the sea whispering outside, indifferent to the total surrender that had just taken place.
Goa
Bharath looked at Mirnaa.
The beauty he wanted to conquer was right before him.
He didn’t want to trick her further. He didn’t want to lie anymore.
She was ready — right before him — to surrender herself completely.
He had made the so-called powerful Vikram himself push her into his arms.
And she had already cheated on him — with me.
Poor girl… she bought everything. She thinks I’m in love with her.
He could not contain his happiness — but he calmed down.
His intent was clear: to enjoy the innocence of exploring the beauty of sex with her… slowly, brutally, fully.
He sat with his back against the headboard — legs spread — and pulled Mirnaa into his arms.
His hands rested possessively on her shoulders, thumbs brushing the soft skin at the base of her neck.
He began — voice low, commanding, but laced with a dangerous tenderness:
“Mirna… I don’t care what rules you and Vikram had set.
But in bed — only I dictate the rules.
I know you have fears. You have fear of pain.
But you need to trust me fully. You need to surrender to me fully.
You should not call me Bharath. You should call me my love… darling…
I’m your husband here — not Vikram. You got it?”
Mirnaa looked at him — eyes wide — and nodded slowly.
“I know you just did regular sex with Vikram. You hadn’t had anything new, right?”
Mirnaa nodded — cheeks flushing.
“I’m your master here. You are my student… sometimes a slave who just follows directions.
Shall I start the class? The discussion?”
Mirnaa — voice soft:
“Okay…”
Bharath looked at her pointedly.
She realised — and corrected herself:
“Okay… my love.”
“Good girl,” Bharath said — a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Sex is a fantastic feeling. Many don’t live it fully.
People often confuse everything, Mirnaa — between acts, positions, and relationship dynamics.
Let me teach you — and start from there.”
He paused — letting the words sink in.
“First — there are sexual acts. Then there are sexual positions. Then there is relationship dynamics.”
Mirnaa looked confused.
Bharath smiled — patient.
“Sexual acts have three categories: Penetration, Oral, Manual.
What we did last night is penetration — vaginal penetration. There is one more — anal penetration. Which you know.”
“For Oral — it’s when we use our mouth to satisfy the other partner. Like you suck my cock… or I lick your vagina.”
“Manual — instead of mouth, we use fingers. Like I finger you… and you give me a handjob. Sometimes couples do it simultaneously.”
“So — in the above three — what all have you done?”
Mirnaa was shy — cheeks burning.
He pressed her breast gently — voice firm:
“Tell me soon.”
She swallowed — voice barely audible:
“Of course… both penetration… but anal not fully.”
Bharath:
“Oral?”
She shook her head:
“No… Vikram once tried. I felt salty… I said no.”
Bharath — mock pity:
“Poor Vikram.”
She looked up — worried:
“Will he be disappointed?”
Bharath:
“He must have loved you the most. How in the world a man doesn’t get a blowjob?”
“Did he lick you… on your vagina?”
Mirnaa:
“Yes… sometimes.”
Bharath:
“What about manual?”
Mirnaa — even shyer:
“Yes… we have done. I mean… I do in my hand — not to disappoint him. If he cannot have it in my mouth…”
“Did he finger you?”
Mirnaa:
“He tried… but I felt tingling feeling… so I used to avoid. Instead I will ask him to come inside me.”
Bharath — in his mind: Poor Vikram… my lies are becoming true. She made him miserable.
He said aloud:
“Now I realise why he wanted you to open.”
“If you didn’t satisfy him with all these — there are sexual positions like 69, doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, spooning… and lot more.”
Mirnaa:
“What are all this?”
Bharath smiled:
“I will explain you.”
“Did you guys do like what I did last night?”
Mirnaa:
“No…”
Bharath:
“That’s spooning… side-by-side position.”
“Mirnaa… it’s really long way to go.
Only after introducing it — I can teach you on relationship dynamics.
But I fear we may need more time. Goa time may not be enough.”
Mirnaa smiled — soft, trusting:
“Time duration… I will leave it up to you…”
Mirnaa asked:
“What are you starting with?”
Bharath — voice firm:
“You have no rights to question. Just follow what I tell you.”
“Let’s start slow. First — let’s explore our body. Remove my shirt and my inners.”
Mirnaa looked at him.
“Do it, baby.”
She rose from her place — unbuttoned him. When the first button was done —
He asked:
“What are you doing?”
She said:
“I’m unbuttoning.”
He said:
“No. Kiss my chest whenever a button is unbuttoned. The exposing area — kiss it.”
Mirnaa’s cheeks blushed.
Every button she undid — she kissed the exposed area of his chest.
He said:
“Good girl.”
“Now — remove my inner.”
Her hands trembled.
He guided her hand to his V-cut brief boxer. She pulled it down — his thick, big cock danced and popped into her hand. He was fully nude.
She looked at him.
“Kiss it,” he said.
She bent her head — kissed it.
“Hold with your hand.”
She did — face blushing, turning pink.
She was already sitting on her knees between his legs.
He said:
“Every night when I come — you need to consider this as rituals. Got it?”
She shook her head — yes.
“Look at my penis — the state because of you. It rode you last night. It needs you every night.”
She still blushed.
Bharath said:
“Now it’s my turn. Come closer.”
Mirnaa moved her knees forward — closer to him.
Bharath’s eyes darkened with raw hunger as he stared down at her — sprawled beneath him, chest heaving, skin flushed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the earlier pounding. The room was thick with their mingled scent: salt from the beach still clinging to their hair, the sharp musk of arousal, the faint metallic tang of exertion.
He leaned in close — lips brushing the shell of her ear — voice a low, gravelly rasp:
“You liked my roughness right?”
Before she could answer, his hands shot to the hem of her thin top. Fingers curled under the fabric — knuckles grazing the soft undercurve of her breasts — and he ripped upward in one violent, decisive motion. The cotton tore with a sharp, satisfying sound — threads snapping — exposing her bra-clad chest to the humid air.
Mirnaa gasped — eyes flying wide — stunned into stillness. The torn top hung in ragged strips from her shoulders like battle flags. Her breasts strained against the black lace bra — nipples already peaked and visible through the thin material, begging for attention.
Bharath didn’t pause. He yanked her forward by the ruined fabric — pulling her upright — until she collided against his bare chest with a soft thud. Her breasts crushed against him — lace scbanging his skin — heat pouring between them.
His hands moved behind her back with practiced cruelty. Fingers found the clasp — pinched — twisted — and the bra snapped open in an instant. The straps slid down her arms like surrender. Her heavy breasts spilled free — bouncing once — twice — full and soft and impossibly round, nipples dark and stiff in the cool air.
He didn’t give her time to breathe.
Both hands claimed her at once — palms rough, fingers splayed wide — cupping the undersides and lifting them like offerings. Thumbs dragged hard across her nipples — once, twice — before he pinched them between forefinger and thumb. Hard. Twisting just enough to make her back bow.
“Aaahhhh…!”
The sound tore from her throat — half pain, half plea — high and shattered.
Bharath growled low in his throat — primal — and pulled her higher. He buried his face between her breasts — inhaling the warm, sweet scent of her skin — then latched onto one swollen nipple with his mouth. Teeth grazed the sensitive peak — then bit down — not breaking skin, but firm enough to sting.
He circled each nipple with his tounge and gave a bite and took each breast into his mouth .
He sucked hard — tongue lashing the bud — drawing it deep — trying to devour as much of her as he could fit.
Her hands flew to his hair — fingers tangling — pulling — unsure if she wanted to push him away or drag him closer.
He switched — mouth moving to the other breast — same ruthless attention — biting, sucking, tongue swirling until both nipples were swollen, red, glistening with his spit.
He pressed them together — creating deep cleavage — and dragged his tongue through the valley — slow, wet, possessive — tasting the salt of her skin.
After long minutes of relentless play — kneading, crushing, rolling her nipples until she was whimpering continuously — he lifted his head just enough to speak against her flushed sternum:
“As I said in flight… your breasts… my goodness… so big.”
His voice was thick with lust — almost reverent.
“Look how lucky your ex-husband is, bastard.”
Mirnaa’s face flamed — eyes glassy — caught between humiliation and a dark, blooming arousal at the word ex-husband. Her lips parted — breath shallow — but no protest came.
Bharath’s smile was slow — predatory.
He lowered his head again — took one nipple back between his teeth — tugged gently — then harder — watching her arch, watching her body betray her every time he pushed the edge of pain into pleasure.
The air between them crackled — thick with heat, salt, and the unspoken promise of more.
He hadn’t even entered her again yet — and she was already trembling on the brink.
Mirnaa flushed:
“Ex-husband?”
Bharath:
“I’m your husband here.”
“Tell me — who am I?”
Mirnaa:
“My husband.”
Bharath:
“That’s how it should be.”
Bharath’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties — fingers brushing the soft curls before finding her slick, swollen entrance. He teased her slowly at first — the pad of his middle finger circling her clit once, twice — light, maddening pressure that made her hips jerk upward in helpless need.
Her body trembled immediately — thighs quivering, breath hitching in sharp little gasps. She tried to close her legs instinctively, but he wedged his knee between them — keeping her open.
“No… Bharath…” Her voice was small, pleading — half protest, half prayer.
Bharath’s eyes darkened — voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble:
“There is no ‘no’ from you.”
He leaned down — lips brushing her ear — hot breath sending shivers down her spine.
“You need to endure it. And act like what your husband wants.”
His free hand fisted in her hair — yanked her head back sharply — exposing the long line of her throat. She whimpered — back arching — breasts thrusting upward as the sting bloomed into heat.
At the same moment — two fingers plunged inside her without warning.
Her body jolted — inner walls fluttering around the sudden intrusion — a wet, obscene sound filling the room as he curled them upward, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside. She cried out — high and broken — hips bucking against his hand even as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
He didn’t stop.
He pumped his fingers faster — thick, relentless — the heel of his palm grinding against her clit with every thrust. Her juices coated his hand — dripping down his wrist — the slick sounds growing louder, filthier.
Mirnaa’s moans turned frantic — body shaking uncontrollably — breasts bouncing wildly with each jerk of his wrist. Her nipples were dark, swollen peaks — begging for attention — but he ignored them, focused only on the wet heat between her legs.
He released her hair — let her head fall back to the pillow — then yanked her panties down in one rough motion. The fabric tore slightly at the seam — he didn’t care. He shoved her thighs apart — pushed her flat on her back — and knelt between them.
“You never allowed him fingering, right?” His voice was thick with satisfaction. “That is where I’m going to start.”
He plunged three fingers back inside her this time — stretching her wider — thumb circling her clit in tight, ruthless spirals. Her hips lifted off the bed — chasing the pressure — chasing the burn — chasing the unbearable pleasure-pain that was quickly unraveling her.
Her body shakes, her breast bounces when he fingers
Her moans turned into sobs — body trembling on the edge — inner walls clamping down around his fingers like she was trying to keep him inside forever.
“Bharath… no… no… please… please… insert yours… please… I need you…”
He slowed — fingers curling lazily inside her — watching her writhe.
“No,” he said — voice calm, cruel. “I won’t. Until you promise me.”
Mirnaa’s head thrashed — tears slipping down her temples — hips grinding desperately against his hand.
“What… promise?”
Bharath leaned down — lips brushing hers — fingers still buried deep, still moving just enough to torment.
“Promise me you will always love me.”
“Always have sex with me — even if Vikram is around.”
She sobbed — body shaking — so close — so desperate —
“I promise…” she gasped — voice wrecked. “I promise…”
He smiled — dark, triumphant.
“You want me to have a rough one… or softer one?”
Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered — tears clinging to lashes — body trembling on the precipice.
“Rough…” she begged — voice cracking. “Rough… please…”
“Here we go, baby.”
Bharath positioned himself between her legs — spread her thighs wider with firm hands, thumbs pressing into the soft inner flesh until faint red imprints bloomed like ownership marks.
He teased the thick head of his cock along her slick entrance — once, twice — letting her feel the blunt, heavy pressure without mercy, watching her hips lift instinctively, chasing the stretch she both feared and craved.
“I’m going to enter,” he said, voice low and final. “I won’t be soft this time.”
Mirnaa’s breath hitched — eyes wide, pupils blown dark with arousal and nerves. Her hands clutched the sheets — knuckles white — body already trembling from the earlier fingering.
One deep, unyielding push — he sank to the root in a single stroke.
She cried out sharply:
“Ahhhhh… Bharath… slow… please…”
The stretch burned — sudden, overwhelming — her walls fluttering desperately around the thick invasion, trying to adjust to his size. Pain flared bright at the entrance, sharp and hot, radiating inward. She tried to twist away — thighs quivering — but he pinned her hips with his weight, keeping her open, keeping her full.
“You wanted it hard, right, baby?” he growled against her ear — breath hot, voice rough with restraint.
She whimpered — “Yes… but… it hurts a little…”
He kissed her roughly — swallowing the protest — tongue claiming her mouth as his hips snapped forward again — hard — bottoming out with a wet, obscene slap. Every withdrawal dragged along her sensitive front wall; every re-entry forced a gasp from her throat — pain blooming into something hotter, fuller, deeper.
Missionary — raw and deep.
He pinned her wrists above her head with one large hand, fingers locked around both of her slim forearms like manacles — the other braced beside her ear, caging her completely beneath his weight.
Every thrust drove the air from her lungs in sharp, staccato gasps. Skin slapped skin — loud, wet, rhythmic — the obscene sound echoing off the villa walls, mingling with the distant crash of waves. Her full breasts bounced helplessly with each impact, nipples stiff and dark, grazing the hard planes of his chest again and again — the friction sending white-hot sparks racing through her overstimulated nerves.
She tried to twist — hips wriggling sideways to ease the relentless pressure against her cervix — but he simply shifted his weight, hips pinning hers flat to the mattress, forcing her to take every punishing inch exactly as he gave it. His cock ground deep — thick and unyielding — dragging along her front wall on the outstroke, slamming home on the instroke until she felt him in her throat.
“Feel it,” he ordered — voice thick with lust, gravel-rough against her ear. “Every fucking inch. This is how you take your husband.”
Her legs — trembling, slick with sweat — wrapped instinctively around his waist. Heels dug into the small of his back — nails scoring red lines down his shoulders — pulling him deeper even as fresh tears pricked the corners of her eyes. The initial burn had been sharp, almost too much — her body protesting the sudden, brutal fullness — but now pain throbbed bright and hot before melting, over and over, into something darker, liquid, addictive. Each deep grind against her cervix sent a jolt of mingled ache and pleasure spiraling up her spine.
She moaned — broken, needy — the sound rising higher with every thrust. Her hips began to rise — tentative at first — then desperate — chasing the ache, chasing the fullness, chasing the way he filled every empty space inside her until she couldn’t tell where the hurt ended and the hunger began.
Minutes stretched into an endless haze — sweat slicked their bodies, dripping from his brow onto her collarbone, pooling in the valley between her bouncing breasts. Her cries turned rhythmic, desperate — half-sobs, half-pleas — “Bharath… too much… please…” — even as her pussy clenched greedily around him, betraying every word.
He didn’t slow.
He didn’t soften.
Instead — when her moans became a continuous, shattered wail — Bharath hooked his arms under her knees. With a low growl he lifted her legs high and wide — folding her almost in half beneath him — ankles framing her own flushed face. The butterfly position tilted her pelvis upward — exposing her completely — letting him sink impossibly deeper with every brutal stroke.
Her eyes rolled back — mouth falling open in a silent scream — nails clawing uselessly at his biceps as the new angle drove the head of his cock directly against her cervix with punishing precision. Pain flared white-hot — then burst into blinding pleasure — her body shaking violently beneath him.
“Bharath… too deep… slow… please…”
He fucked her harder — watching her face contort, tears slipping down her temples into her hair — her breasts jiggling wildly with each slam — nipples so hard they ached. Her pussy fluttered and clenched — dripping down onto the sheets — the wet slap of their bodies growing louder, filthier.
“You’re taking it so well,” he growled — eyes locked on where they joined — watching his thick shaft disappear inside her over and over, glistening with her arousal. “Look how wet you are… your pussy fucking loves the pain.”
She sobbed — voice cracking — “It hurts… but… don’t stop… don’t stop…”
He didn’t.
The room filled with her broken cries — skin slapping — bed creaking — waves crashing outside — indifferent to the way he was breaking her open, reshaping her, claiming every trembling inch of her body as his.
And still — he kept going.
Next — he pulled out abruptly — cock glistening with her arousal — flipped her onto her side — hooked one of her legs over his shoulder — entered her sideways.
“Sideways,” he said — voice thick. “Feel how it drags inside you.”
The angle changed again — cock stroking her front wall with every thrust — hitting her G-spot mercilessly. Her moans turned high and frantic — body trembling — another orgasm building fast, unstoppable.
“Bharath… I’m… I’m going to…”
“Come,” he commanded — hand wrapping around her throat — not choking — just holding — possessive. “Come on my cock.”
She shattered — walls pulsing violently — gushing around him — crying his name. Tears streamed freely now — pain and pleasure so intertwined she couldn’t separate them.
He kept going — slower now — letting her ride the aftershocks — then faster again — pushing her through a second, weaker climax that left her limp and shaking.
he stopped looking at her surrendered face.. he left her alone for few minutes checked his phone and switched off it
he also grabbed mirnas mobile and turned it off.
he had not reached high yet, he smild at her just fw more minutes
he came to bed gain
He dragged her like a ragdoll — hand fisted in her hair — pulled her up onto all fours — then pushed her chest down to the mattress — ass high.
“Face-down ass-up,” he said — voice thick. “Missionary variation. Vaginal entry from back Take it.”
He slammed back in — one hand pressing her head into the pillow — other gripping her hip — pounding with animalistic force. The bedframe banged against the wall. Her muffled screams vibrated through the fabric.
She pushed back — meeting every thrust — body slick with sweat — begging incoherently:
“More… please… don’t stop… own me…”
He crashed harder — hips pistoning — cock swelling — until he came with a guttural groan — flooding her again — hot, deep pulses that made her shudder through one final, shattered orgasm.
They collapsed — his body heavy on hers — cock still buried deep — twitching with aftershocks.
Breaths ragged. Skin slick. The room smelled of sex and salt and complete surrender.
He kissed the back of her neck — voice rough, satisfied:
“Good girl… you took it all. I love you”
Mirnaa — voice wrecked, barely audible:
“Love you too my husband…”
After the final shuddering climax, the room fell into a heavy, humid silence — broken only by their ragged breathing and the distant, rhythmic crash of waves outside. Bharath stayed buried deep inside her for long moments — softening slowly, but never pulling out completely. His weight pressed her into the mattress — possessive, grounding — while her body trembled with aftershocks, thighs slick, core still fluttering around him.
Mirnaa lay beneath him, dazed, skin flushed and glistening.
The intensity had left her raw — every nerve singing, every muscle loose and quivering. After a few minutes, she shifted uncomfortably — the fullness inside her starting to feel too much, too constant. A soft, uneasy whimper escaped her lips.
She turned her back to him — curling slightly onto her side — knees drawing up, trying to ease the tender ache between her legs.
Bharath felt the shift immediately. He didn’t protest — simply withdrew slowly, carefully — letting her feel the drag of every inch as he slipped free. A small gush of their combined release followed — warm, thick — trickling down her inner thigh. He gave her space — rolling onto his back beside her — one arm resting behind his head, the other lying open in quiet invitation.
Mirnaa exhaled shakily — body still humming — then rolled onto her back again, legs parting slightly as if unsure what to do with themselves. The cool air kissed her overheated skin, making her shiver.
Bharath turned toward her — eyes dark, possessive — and moved over her once more. Not to enter — not yet — but to claim her mouth in a slow, deep good-night kiss.
His lips sealed over hers — gentle at first — then deeper — tongue stroking lazily, tasting the salt of her tears and the sweetness of her surrender.
She kissed back — soft, tired — until her eyes fluttered open and she froze.
His cock — thick, heavy, already hardening again — pressed insistently against her inner thigh.
Mirnaa’s breath caught — panic flickering in her wide eyes.
“Are you… human… or animal?” she whispered — half in disbelief, half in exhausted awe.
Bharath chuckled low against her lips — the sound vibrating through her chest.
“Consider me your animal,” he murmured — voice rough with renewed hunger.
Before she could protest, he shifted — aligned himself — and pushed back inside her in one slow, deliberate slide.
Her walls — still swollen, still sensitive — stretched around him again. She gasped — fingers digging into his shoulders — body instinctively arching to take him deeper even as a small whimper escaped.
They both smiled — tired, sated, conspiratorial — faces inches apart.
He settled fully inside her — hips flush to hers — cock buried to the hilt — hot and thick and unyielding.
He realized her uneasiness quickly..
“No,” he whispered — brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “I’m just going to sleep like this.”
Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered — heavy with exhaustion — but a small, dazed smile curved her lips.
Her vagina was full — hot semen from earlier still leaking around him, mixing with fresh arousal — his dick deep inside, pulsing faintly with every heartbeat.
In half-sleep — voices soft, slurred with fatigue — they murmured.
Bharath — lips against her temple:
“Tomorrow morning… oral session. I will train you deep.”
Mirnaa — barely audible, already drifting:
“Okay… my love…”
He kissed her once more — slow, lingering — then let his head rest beside hers.
The clock glowed 2:30 AM.
They slept tangled, joined, claimed — the sea whispering outside, indifferent to the total surrender that had just taken place.
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