Adultery Amorous Ayesha

[Sengolan]

Ravi's fingers disappeared from between her thighs only to return slick and bare, pressing inside with no preamble. Ayesha's back bowed, a scream caught in her throat as he crooked his fingers just right.

"Again," Tony demanded, his own fingers replacing Ravi's at her entrance. "Louder."

"*Fuck me!*" she cried, the plea ricocheting off the basement walls. Her hips jerked wildly, chasing their touch. "Please—*oh god*—please—"

Samar's laughter was dark with triumph as he unfastened his jeans. "Since you asked so nicely."

AK shoved the coffee table aside with his foot, sending bottles rolling. "On your knees, Aunty." When she hesitated, Ravi's hand fisted in her hair, yanking her forward.

"Don't make us repeat ourselves," he warned, his other hand loosening his belt with a snap. Ayesha gasped, her fingers digging into Ravi's thighs as she stared up at the five young men circling her—all half-undressed, all hard beneath their clothes. Samar pulled her forward by the hair until her nose brushed the thick bulge in his jeans. She whimpered, shaking her head. "I-I can't," she stammered, her voice fraying at the edges. "I've never even—not for my husband—"

Ravi crouched beside her, his fingers tracing the hollow of her throat. "That's why it's special," he murmured, thumb brushing her fluttering pulse. "First time for everything, Aunty." His palm slid down to cup her breast through the tattered blouse, kneading roughly. "Don't you want to taste?"

Tony unzipped first, his cock springing free inches from her face. Ayesha recoiled—then froze, her breath catching. The others followed in a rustle of denim and boxers, each revealing themselves with varying degrees of pride. AK smirked as he stroked himself lazily. "Surprised, Aunty? Not what you expected?"

She was. Horrifically, *fascinatingly* surprised. Her husband—circumcised, tidy—had never prepared her for *this*. The thick, veined lengths, the way the foreskin shifted obscenely as Ravi pumped his fist. Samar's was darkest, the head glistening where it peeked from the hood. Tony's curved slightly upward, the tip flushed an angry red. AK's was thickest, the foreskin pulled taut over the crown. And Faiz—*Faiz*—she couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see her son's expression as she stared at his friends' cocks with parted lips.

Samar grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze back to his erection. "Touch it," he ordered, guiding her trembling hand to his shaft. The skin was fever-hot, silken as it slid beneath her fingers. Ayesha made a noise—half-protest, half-wonder—as the foreskin retracted under her tentative stroke, revealing the slick head beneath. "*Oh*," she breathed, the sound slipping out unbidden.

Ravi chuckled darkly. "Like that, huh?" He pushed forward, dragging the blunt tip of his cock along her lower lip. "Open."

She shouldn't. She *couldn't*. But the musk of them—salt and sweat and something *primal*—filled her nostrils, and her tongue darted out before she could stop it. The taste exploded across her senses: bitter, *addictive*. Ayesha moaned, her resistance crumbling as Ravi's fingers tangled in her hair.

"That's it," he coaxed, tilting her head back. "Just take the tip first."