20-03-2026, 12:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 24-03-2026, 01:34 PM by Maleficio. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Everybody was dressed to kill for the Barat. Adi, Guddo, and Gita had served “cold drinks” to all the ladies (after I had made sure they consumed them liberally), and soon the atmosphere was charged with sexual currents. A night of ratjaga, days of the bawdiest gallis and jokes, and the thrill of all possibilities had loosened everyone up. There were no barriers of age, relation, or position.
A friend of my brother, KD, came and couldn’t stop staring at Gita’s growing teen breasts. Jiju was not far behind. I teased him, “Hey, you have a nice chance of making your Jija a saala. Not only that, Jiju will also be happy because it will make him a mama in nine months.”
He asked how. Gita blushed. I said, “Just take this lovely sister of yours to a corner for half an hour and ‘do’ what every male in town is thinking of doing with her. It will give you joy, and in nine months she will make Jiju a mama — he’ll be happy too.”
Gita said, “Dhat!” and ran away, but she collided with Dulari, who teased her in her usual style, “Arre, itna ladne, choonchi dabwane aur chudwane ka shauk hai to itne ladke ghar mein hain — kisi se bhid lo!” While saying this, she squeezed Gita’s breasts.
All the girls were looking stunning, and my bhabhis were wearing revealing, tight, low-cut dresses.
I had got a special dress made for the Barat — a pink lehnga with gold embroidery. It was designed to beautifully highlight the curves of my wide hips, with the embroidery becoming denser over my plump buttocks. It was tied much below my deep navel (a close example would be Kareena Kapoor tying her sari in Chameli, but mine was even lower). On my flat, fair tummy and slender waist, I wore only a golden chain that accentuated and guided every gaze toward my deep navel and the treasures below it.
My choli was in traditional Kuchhi style, starting just below my firm 36D breasts. It was tailored to follow the contours of my boobs but stopped just above my nipples. It had string-like support and was completely backless. The embroidery made everyone feast on my beautiful breasts. Of course, there was a red chunri, but it was trying unsuccessfully to hide one breast while the other remained openly inviting to admirers (and to the hands of my Jiju).
I was sitting in the car between Amit and Jiju, sharing drinks. Both were looking at my breasts lecherously. I crooned an old song: “More jobana ka dekho ubhaar…”
Amit said, “Hey, let me look at them with my hands.”
Meanwhile, the Barat had stopped and dancing had begun, as the bride’s house was close. Amit signalled something to the band and danced with me to the tune of “Humne maana hamper sajan, jobanva bharpoor hai…” from Dada.
I saw Adi looking breathtaking in a tank top and short skirt. I introduced her, and Amit immediately dragged her to dance. Jiju and I made all the ladies join in. It was so different, so hot. Everybody was holding, hugging, and grinding against each other, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Soon I spotted Madhu Bhabhi, who had just finished dancing with her devar. I pointed her out to Jiju and he pulled her in. They were almost rubbing their bodies together. It was my turn to signal the band to play my favourite — “Dhak Dhak” from Beta. Madhu Bhabhi showed even more oomph and cleavage than Madhuri, and her breasts were almost spilling out.
We had reached the bride’s house, but the dance showed no signs of stopping. Rashmi Bhabhi and Amit pushed me forward, and now it was only me and Ravi Jiju — both adept dancers. After a few numbers, the song changed to “Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai.” Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi had already pulled my chunri away as it was interfering with the dance. I hesitated for a micro-second but then surrendered to the spirit of the moment, pushing out my chest and showing exactly what was behind my choli.
Ravi danced beautifully. His lower body was almost blending with mine. One hand caressed my fully exposed back while his naughty fingers traced lines on my midriff. His other hand was unashamedly squeezing my plump ass. I pushed my mound against him, my breasts tantalizingly close to his chest.
The song changed to “Jumma Chumma De Chumma,” and everybody started chanting. I teasingly brought my cheek close to his and swayed it away at the last second. It went on and on until suddenly Ravi held my hands, pulled me close, and kissed me full on the lips. I responded warmly. Our feet and bodies kept dancing while everyone clapped thunderously.
Jiju, despite all his pranks and bawdy language, was a gentleman at heart. He asked hesitantly, “Rinu… it was the heat of the moment…”
I put my hands on his shoulders and said, “But it was the most precious moment of my life. And if you didn’t like it, I will return the kiss.” I kissed him on the lips right in front of all his friends.
Now he was back to his true self. He pinched my bottom hard and said, “Mang gaye saali, tum to pakki saali ho!” Then he poured a stiff drink between my lips.
Soon we noticed some young teen girls from the bride’s family — they were Jiju ke saale ki saali. Amit and Ravi exclaimed, “Ye gauriya to badi mast hain.”
I said, “Jiju, don’t worry. After all, she is saale ki saali. I will arrange an introduction sometime.”
I called Adi, whispered something in her ear, and she giggled but said, “Let Jiju pay me first.” Both Ravi and Amit obliged with generous tips. Soon we saw Adi chatting with those girls. It turned out the eldest, Rupa, was the bride’s cousin, 18 years old and just starting graduation. The younger one, Sona, was her close friend and had turned 16 a few months ago. She was in eleventh standard.
I also went over, chatted with them, and introduced them to Jiju and Amit. I made them sit in such a way that Sona was between Amit and Jiju, while Rupa was trapped between me and Adi. Soon both Jijus had their hands on the girls. Adi called a photographer. I asked her, “Hey, you too joined us?” She said, “Sure.”
Without thinking twice, Adi sat in Jiju’s lap and told Rupa and Sona, “You know, this is the correct place for a saali to sit.” That broke the ice. Amit and Jiju, being themselves, soon turned the banter into bawdy jokes. Rupa and Sona were blushing but neither objected nor tried to leave. They promised they would definitely come for the reception. Since they were from the same city and now in this “interesting” relationship, they would love to meet again.
All this was making me hotter, and Jiju was becoming desperate too. Dinner finished much before midnight, and the marriage was scheduled for 2 p.m. We still had nearly three hours.
Jiju was sitting close to me. Suddenly I said, “Mausa ji, I’m sorry — oops, I forgot!”
Everybody exclaimed, “What happened?”
“I think I forgot the bride’s box,” I said.
Mausi exclaimed, “How could you? It is the most important thing!”
Mausa ji comforted her and said, “It is still two and a half hours away. Rinu can go and fetch it. It won’t take more than one or one and a half hours.” As usual, he called out, “Ravi, will you please rise to this crisis? Go with Rinu and bring that box.”
Guddo smiled and said, “Bhabhi, while you are going back home, please bring a shawl for me — it’s getting cold.” Madhu Bhabhi added her request too.
Jiju got up, pretending to be unwilling, and joined me. We got into the car. He asked, “Hey Rinu, are you sure where the box is? I thought I had kept it.”
I laughed and said, “Yes, it is right here in the boot of this car.” He immediately got the message, pinched my breasts, and said, “You are a real chinar.”
I pretended to be angry. “No, the real chinar is your sister Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi. They must have guessed — that’s why they asked for shawls, to make sure we go home. Otherwise we would have ‘used’ this time right here.”
His one hand hugged me and squeezed my breast as he said, “Don’t worry, darling. We will reach home in no time and then we can use that time properly.”
He drove fast. When I lovingly drew a line over the front of his pants, there was no bulge — it was a full, hard erection of more than eight inches. I opened the buttons of his coat and, while he was driving, removed it. Next came the buttons of his shirt and the front zip. I rubbed his lund hard and even bent down to kiss it.
We almost rushed to my room. I bent to open the strings of my choli and untie the knot of my lehnga, but it was not to be. My choli had just left me when I felt my lehnga slide down to my waist and my panty ripped open.
Jiju’s mighty, majestic lund was knocking at the doors of my choot, and there would be no interruption this time. He had picked up my moisturizer and used it liberally on his lund and inside my choot. It didn’t take any time. By the time I could look back, he had caught my rasili mast choonchis and his lund was inside me. I almost screamed, but both of us knew the house was empty — no one would respond.
My choot felt split apart — a strange mix of joy and pain. I had been longing for this, eagerly waiting to get my choot fucked by Jiju, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling of being torn. With the force of his thrust, my head banged into the bed and my ass rose high in the air. Jiju mercilessly crushed my breasts and shoved further. This time I bit my lips hard, but a loud scream still escaped.
Now Jiju left my breasts, gripped my slender waist, and with full force pushed even deeper. My cunt was squeezing and hugging him, but there was heavy resistance as he penetrated virgin territory. He stopped, rubbed my labia and clit, and the pain slowly receded, though my choot still ached.
I was thinking it was over when Jiju interrupted, “Don’t say it is hurting — almost half of my lund is still outside.” A chill of fear and joy ran down my spine. Still more…
I decided to dare him. Although my choot was aching, the joy was intense. I teased, “To baaki lund kya apni behna Gita aur Guddo ke liye bacha kar rakha hai?”
That made him furious. He drew his lund almost completely out, captured my lips in a deep kiss, gripped my hips, and shoved it almost fully inside. It hurt like hell, but my cries were drowned in his kiss. His rubbing of my clit, pulling of my tits, and the effect of the special Kesar wine we had taken earlier made me bounce back quickly. I started pushing my hips, my choot squeezing his lund, my breasts rock hard. My nipples were being bitten and chewed but kept inviting more.
I will not say the pain vanished completely. My choot was fully stretched and had a sweet ache. Now Jiju was pounding me mercilessly. My moans had overtaken my cries, and soon frenzy swept over both of us. We were fucking like maniacs. Jiju’s nails scratched my back and my mast joban while his lund moved furiously like a piston. It went on and on. My hips were gyrating, my chootar answering every dhakka with equal force. Jiju cupped my ass and one finger scratched the crack of my gaand. I felt apprehensive — “Oh, not here” — but his fingers moved to the front, pinched my clit, and triggered my explosion.
Wave after wave crashed over me. I squeezed my choot hard, but Jiju kept pounding. Only after ten more minutes of intense chudai did he come. He raised my chootar high and ensured not a single drop escaped. I was completely collapsed.
My experience was cataclysmic. I lay there until he kissed my lips. I gave him a weak smile. But we had to go back, so we collected the shawls demanded by my nanads and bhabhis.
I also needed to change, so I took out a sari, blouse, and saya from the wardrobe. Jiju got dressed too. When I looked at him, his mighty lund was still almost hard. I kept my clothes on the bed, bent down, and took a mouthful. I first kissed his supara, teasing his pee hole, then took it in one gulp between my smoldering lips. I had to spread my lips extra wide; my cheeks were bursting, but I kept sucking. With my henna-painted hand I grabbed the rest of his lund and caressed it lovingly. Jiju was moaning, his face full of joy. Seeing his pleasure made me increase my tempo. My hands now caressed his balls.
He was so excited that he made me lie on my back on the bed. He placed two thick pillows under my gaand. I put my long, slender legs over his broad shoulders. His lund again invaded my choot. This time, in the frontal position, I could see every stroke. It was still hurting, but I was enjoying it too. He was crushing my breasts and pushing very hard. My silver anklets played beautiful music with every dhakka. The base of his lund rubbed my clit, my tits were being chewed by his lips… It was sheer joy.
This time too, when he came, he lifted my chootar high and made sure not a drop escaped. I wanted to get dressed, but he selected a thin thong for me. He made me wear it while I was lying down and even tucked it between the folds of my choot and the crack of my gaand. He instructed me to squeeze my choot and ensure no drop came out. He helped me with the saya and tied the sari in my sexy style, just over my hips. When I tried to put on a bra, he stopped me. I wore the choli over my bare breasts. It was low-cut, so he opened just one button and pulled my tits out. One squeeze and they were hard again. He made me squeeze his lund between them until a big glob of cum landed on each tit, and he made me leave it like that.
During the trip back, I kept my hips raised, but when we rejoined the Barat it became almost impossible to hold. Soon we had to sit with the rest of the marriage party, and right there in the angan my choot started oozing Jiju’s cum. The joy of that chudai lingered long after it was over.
In the morning, vidai took place and we returned home. I participated in all the rituals of barring the bride’s entry, but my mind was constantly on Jiju, who kept teasing me. Everybody was tired, and I was even more so after two sleepless nights — first ratjaga and then the wedding with such brutal chudai by Jiju.
I told Mausi, “I am going to catch a nap and will be back in three or four hours.” I gave a duplicate key to Adi and Gita, saying they could join me if they wanted. Rashmi Bhabhi teased, “No, I thought you had already caught something big in your honey trap.”
I gave her a choicest galli and went to my room.
I changed into a nightie and sleep claimed me very fast. It was the combined tiredness of two nights awake, the Sapphic joy of ratjaga, and the furious fucking by Jiju the previous day, along with the sex-filled atmosphere. Soon I was floating in dreams — music, dances… and then I dreamt that I was enveloped by a pair of strong, handsome arms hugging me with authority, clasping me against a broad chest. I was losing myself, surrendering to an overpowering ocean of joy. I felt I was swimming on waves of sweet kisses and was fully aroused.
Soon my body recognised Jiju’s presence. It was a state between dream and awakening. I could feel pressure on my hard breasts and my tunnel of longing was wet, its doors feeling slight tapping. I didn’t want to break the dream, so I hugged him tighter. A gentle bite on my earlobes made me open my eyes, and I could not believe it. It looked like the real Jiju was hugging me. One hand was adoring my domes of joy while the other held me close.
I thought I should pinch myself, but it wasn’t necessary — Jiju bit my tits, which were more awake than the rest of my body. My dress had left me while I was sleeping, and there were no barriers between us and Jiju. I raised my legs and crossed them over him. We were in a side position, facing each other. This gave his ever-hungry, greedy lund the chance to kiss my smiling, welcoming choot. His lips were kissing and sucking mine while his lower lips rubbed and caressed my choot. My juicy choot surrendered and opened the doors of joy, welcoming his dart of Cupid inside. It was no longer unfamiliar territory, and it made its way slowly, expanding and piercing. He was in no rush this time, unlike the previous day. His hands played music with my breasts softly. One hand titillated my labia and flirted with my clit. I responded unashamedly. My tight choot crushed and squeezed his lund. My nails scratched his ass, and sometimes my long nail reached his puckered hole. When I teasingly pushed it inside, he hugged me hard and shoved his lund almost fully in.
He came over me and started chudai in full frenzy. His lips sucked, licked, ate, devoured, and chewed my tits. His hands played with, pulled, and pinched my clit while I pushed my chootar up to meet every thrust. It went on and on. My joban was crushed under his manly broad chest. We lost all sense of time. I don’t know what triggered it, but I climaxed first. I almost screamed in joy, scratched him, and bit his shoulders. That must have triggered his climax too. He kept on cumming. His semen flowed onto my thighs. When I stood up, I greedily cleaned his lund with my mouth.
He dressed and left. But for the marks on my breasts and cheeks and the cum on my thighs, I would have thought it was just a dream.
I took a bath and got ready.
A friend of my brother, KD, came and couldn’t stop staring at Gita’s growing teen breasts. Jiju was not far behind. I teased him, “Hey, you have a nice chance of making your Jija a saala. Not only that, Jiju will also be happy because it will make him a mama in nine months.”
He asked how. Gita blushed. I said, “Just take this lovely sister of yours to a corner for half an hour and ‘do’ what every male in town is thinking of doing with her. It will give you joy, and in nine months she will make Jiju a mama — he’ll be happy too.”
Gita said, “Dhat!” and ran away, but she collided with Dulari, who teased her in her usual style, “Arre, itna ladne, choonchi dabwane aur chudwane ka shauk hai to itne ladke ghar mein hain — kisi se bhid lo!” While saying this, she squeezed Gita’s breasts.
All the girls were looking stunning, and my bhabhis were wearing revealing, tight, low-cut dresses.
I had got a special dress made for the Barat — a pink lehnga with gold embroidery. It was designed to beautifully highlight the curves of my wide hips, with the embroidery becoming denser over my plump buttocks. It was tied much below my deep navel (a close example would be Kareena Kapoor tying her sari in Chameli, but mine was even lower). On my flat, fair tummy and slender waist, I wore only a golden chain that accentuated and guided every gaze toward my deep navel and the treasures below it.
My choli was in traditional Kuchhi style, starting just below my firm 36D breasts. It was tailored to follow the contours of my boobs but stopped just above my nipples. It had string-like support and was completely backless. The embroidery made everyone feast on my beautiful breasts. Of course, there was a red chunri, but it was trying unsuccessfully to hide one breast while the other remained openly inviting to admirers (and to the hands of my Jiju).
I was sitting in the car between Amit and Jiju, sharing drinks. Both were looking at my breasts lecherously. I crooned an old song: “More jobana ka dekho ubhaar…”
Amit said, “Hey, let me look at them with my hands.”
Meanwhile, the Barat had stopped and dancing had begun, as the bride’s house was close. Amit signalled something to the band and danced with me to the tune of “Humne maana hamper sajan, jobanva bharpoor hai…” from Dada.
I saw Adi looking breathtaking in a tank top and short skirt. I introduced her, and Amit immediately dragged her to dance. Jiju and I made all the ladies join in. It was so different, so hot. Everybody was holding, hugging, and grinding against each other, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Soon I spotted Madhu Bhabhi, who had just finished dancing with her devar. I pointed her out to Jiju and he pulled her in. They were almost rubbing their bodies together. It was my turn to signal the band to play my favourite — “Dhak Dhak” from Beta. Madhu Bhabhi showed even more oomph and cleavage than Madhuri, and her breasts were almost spilling out.
We had reached the bride’s house, but the dance showed no signs of stopping. Rashmi Bhabhi and Amit pushed me forward, and now it was only me and Ravi Jiju — both adept dancers. After a few numbers, the song changed to “Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai.” Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi had already pulled my chunri away as it was interfering with the dance. I hesitated for a micro-second but then surrendered to the spirit of the moment, pushing out my chest and showing exactly what was behind my choli.
Ravi danced beautifully. His lower body was almost blending with mine. One hand caressed my fully exposed back while his naughty fingers traced lines on my midriff. His other hand was unashamedly squeezing my plump ass. I pushed my mound against him, my breasts tantalizingly close to his chest.
The song changed to “Jumma Chumma De Chumma,” and everybody started chanting. I teasingly brought my cheek close to his and swayed it away at the last second. It went on and on until suddenly Ravi held my hands, pulled me close, and kissed me full on the lips. I responded warmly. Our feet and bodies kept dancing while everyone clapped thunderously.
Jiju, despite all his pranks and bawdy language, was a gentleman at heart. He asked hesitantly, “Rinu… it was the heat of the moment…”
I put my hands on his shoulders and said, “But it was the most precious moment of my life. And if you didn’t like it, I will return the kiss.” I kissed him on the lips right in front of all his friends.
Now he was back to his true self. He pinched my bottom hard and said, “Mang gaye saali, tum to pakki saali ho!” Then he poured a stiff drink between my lips.
Soon we noticed some young teen girls from the bride’s family — they were Jiju ke saale ki saali. Amit and Ravi exclaimed, “Ye gauriya to badi mast hain.”
I said, “Jiju, don’t worry. After all, she is saale ki saali. I will arrange an introduction sometime.”
I called Adi, whispered something in her ear, and she giggled but said, “Let Jiju pay me first.” Both Ravi and Amit obliged with generous tips. Soon we saw Adi chatting with those girls. It turned out the eldest, Rupa, was the bride’s cousin, 18 years old and just starting graduation. The younger one, Sona, was her close friend and had turned 16 a few months ago. She was in eleventh standard.
I also went over, chatted with them, and introduced them to Jiju and Amit. I made them sit in such a way that Sona was between Amit and Jiju, while Rupa was trapped between me and Adi. Soon both Jijus had their hands on the girls. Adi called a photographer. I asked her, “Hey, you too joined us?” She said, “Sure.”
Without thinking twice, Adi sat in Jiju’s lap and told Rupa and Sona, “You know, this is the correct place for a saali to sit.” That broke the ice. Amit and Jiju, being themselves, soon turned the banter into bawdy jokes. Rupa and Sona were blushing but neither objected nor tried to leave. They promised they would definitely come for the reception. Since they were from the same city and now in this “interesting” relationship, they would love to meet again.
All this was making me hotter, and Jiju was becoming desperate too. Dinner finished much before midnight, and the marriage was scheduled for 2 p.m. We still had nearly three hours.
Jiju was sitting close to me. Suddenly I said, “Mausa ji, I’m sorry — oops, I forgot!”
Everybody exclaimed, “What happened?”
“I think I forgot the bride’s box,” I said.
Mausi exclaimed, “How could you? It is the most important thing!”
Mausa ji comforted her and said, “It is still two and a half hours away. Rinu can go and fetch it. It won’t take more than one or one and a half hours.” As usual, he called out, “Ravi, will you please rise to this crisis? Go with Rinu and bring that box.”
Guddo smiled and said, “Bhabhi, while you are going back home, please bring a shawl for me — it’s getting cold.” Madhu Bhabhi added her request too.
Jiju got up, pretending to be unwilling, and joined me. We got into the car. He asked, “Hey Rinu, are you sure where the box is? I thought I had kept it.”
I laughed and said, “Yes, it is right here in the boot of this car.” He immediately got the message, pinched my breasts, and said, “You are a real chinar.”
I pretended to be angry. “No, the real chinar is your sister Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi. They must have guessed — that’s why they asked for shawls, to make sure we go home. Otherwise we would have ‘used’ this time right here.”
His one hand hugged me and squeezed my breast as he said, “Don’t worry, darling. We will reach home in no time and then we can use that time properly.”
He drove fast. When I lovingly drew a line over the front of his pants, there was no bulge — it was a full, hard erection of more than eight inches. I opened the buttons of his coat and, while he was driving, removed it. Next came the buttons of his shirt and the front zip. I rubbed his lund hard and even bent down to kiss it.
We almost rushed to my room. I bent to open the strings of my choli and untie the knot of my lehnga, but it was not to be. My choli had just left me when I felt my lehnga slide down to my waist and my panty ripped open.
Jiju’s mighty, majestic lund was knocking at the doors of my choot, and there would be no interruption this time. He had picked up my moisturizer and used it liberally on his lund and inside my choot. It didn’t take any time. By the time I could look back, he had caught my rasili mast choonchis and his lund was inside me. I almost screamed, but both of us knew the house was empty — no one would respond.
My choot felt split apart — a strange mix of joy and pain. I had been longing for this, eagerly waiting to get my choot fucked by Jiju, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling of being torn. With the force of his thrust, my head banged into the bed and my ass rose high in the air. Jiju mercilessly crushed my breasts and shoved further. This time I bit my lips hard, but a loud scream still escaped.
Now Jiju left my breasts, gripped my slender waist, and with full force pushed even deeper. My cunt was squeezing and hugging him, but there was heavy resistance as he penetrated virgin territory. He stopped, rubbed my labia and clit, and the pain slowly receded, though my choot still ached.
I was thinking it was over when Jiju interrupted, “Don’t say it is hurting — almost half of my lund is still outside.” A chill of fear and joy ran down my spine. Still more…
I decided to dare him. Although my choot was aching, the joy was intense. I teased, “To baaki lund kya apni behna Gita aur Guddo ke liye bacha kar rakha hai?”
That made him furious. He drew his lund almost completely out, captured my lips in a deep kiss, gripped my hips, and shoved it almost fully inside. It hurt like hell, but my cries were drowned in his kiss. His rubbing of my clit, pulling of my tits, and the effect of the special Kesar wine we had taken earlier made me bounce back quickly. I started pushing my hips, my choot squeezing his lund, my breasts rock hard. My nipples were being bitten and chewed but kept inviting more.
I will not say the pain vanished completely. My choot was fully stretched and had a sweet ache. Now Jiju was pounding me mercilessly. My moans had overtaken my cries, and soon frenzy swept over both of us. We were fucking like maniacs. Jiju’s nails scratched my back and my mast joban while his lund moved furiously like a piston. It went on and on. My hips were gyrating, my chootar answering every dhakka with equal force. Jiju cupped my ass and one finger scratched the crack of my gaand. I felt apprehensive — “Oh, not here” — but his fingers moved to the front, pinched my clit, and triggered my explosion.
Wave after wave crashed over me. I squeezed my choot hard, but Jiju kept pounding. Only after ten more minutes of intense chudai did he come. He raised my chootar high and ensured not a single drop escaped. I was completely collapsed.
My experience was cataclysmic. I lay there until he kissed my lips. I gave him a weak smile. But we had to go back, so we collected the shawls demanded by my nanads and bhabhis.
I also needed to change, so I took out a sari, blouse, and saya from the wardrobe. Jiju got dressed too. When I looked at him, his mighty lund was still almost hard. I kept my clothes on the bed, bent down, and took a mouthful. I first kissed his supara, teasing his pee hole, then took it in one gulp between my smoldering lips. I had to spread my lips extra wide; my cheeks were bursting, but I kept sucking. With my henna-painted hand I grabbed the rest of his lund and caressed it lovingly. Jiju was moaning, his face full of joy. Seeing his pleasure made me increase my tempo. My hands now caressed his balls.
He was so excited that he made me lie on my back on the bed. He placed two thick pillows under my gaand. I put my long, slender legs over his broad shoulders. His lund again invaded my choot. This time, in the frontal position, I could see every stroke. It was still hurting, but I was enjoying it too. He was crushing my breasts and pushing very hard. My silver anklets played beautiful music with every dhakka. The base of his lund rubbed my clit, my tits were being chewed by his lips… It was sheer joy.
This time too, when he came, he lifted my chootar high and made sure not a drop escaped. I wanted to get dressed, but he selected a thin thong for me. He made me wear it while I was lying down and even tucked it between the folds of my choot and the crack of my gaand. He instructed me to squeeze my choot and ensure no drop came out. He helped me with the saya and tied the sari in my sexy style, just over my hips. When I tried to put on a bra, he stopped me. I wore the choli over my bare breasts. It was low-cut, so he opened just one button and pulled my tits out. One squeeze and they were hard again. He made me squeeze his lund between them until a big glob of cum landed on each tit, and he made me leave it like that.
During the trip back, I kept my hips raised, but when we rejoined the Barat it became almost impossible to hold. Soon we had to sit with the rest of the marriage party, and right there in the angan my choot started oozing Jiju’s cum. The joy of that chudai lingered long after it was over.
In the morning, vidai took place and we returned home. I participated in all the rituals of barring the bride’s entry, but my mind was constantly on Jiju, who kept teasing me. Everybody was tired, and I was even more so after two sleepless nights — first ratjaga and then the wedding with such brutal chudai by Jiju.
I told Mausi, “I am going to catch a nap and will be back in three or four hours.” I gave a duplicate key to Adi and Gita, saying they could join me if they wanted. Rashmi Bhabhi teased, “No, I thought you had already caught something big in your honey trap.”
I gave her a choicest galli and went to my room.
I changed into a nightie and sleep claimed me very fast. It was the combined tiredness of two nights awake, the Sapphic joy of ratjaga, and the furious fucking by Jiju the previous day, along with the sex-filled atmosphere. Soon I was floating in dreams — music, dances… and then I dreamt that I was enveloped by a pair of strong, handsome arms hugging me with authority, clasping me against a broad chest. I was losing myself, surrendering to an overpowering ocean of joy. I felt I was swimming on waves of sweet kisses and was fully aroused.
Soon my body recognised Jiju’s presence. It was a state between dream and awakening. I could feel pressure on my hard breasts and my tunnel of longing was wet, its doors feeling slight tapping. I didn’t want to break the dream, so I hugged him tighter. A gentle bite on my earlobes made me open my eyes, and I could not believe it. It looked like the real Jiju was hugging me. One hand was adoring my domes of joy while the other held me close.
I thought I should pinch myself, but it wasn’t necessary — Jiju bit my tits, which were more awake than the rest of my body. My dress had left me while I was sleeping, and there were no barriers between us and Jiju. I raised my legs and crossed them over him. We were in a side position, facing each other. This gave his ever-hungry, greedy lund the chance to kiss my smiling, welcoming choot. His lips were kissing and sucking mine while his lower lips rubbed and caressed my choot. My juicy choot surrendered and opened the doors of joy, welcoming his dart of Cupid inside. It was no longer unfamiliar territory, and it made its way slowly, expanding and piercing. He was in no rush this time, unlike the previous day. His hands played music with my breasts softly. One hand titillated my labia and flirted with my clit. I responded unashamedly. My tight choot crushed and squeezed his lund. My nails scratched his ass, and sometimes my long nail reached his puckered hole. When I teasingly pushed it inside, he hugged me hard and shoved his lund almost fully in.
He came over me and started chudai in full frenzy. His lips sucked, licked, ate, devoured, and chewed my tits. His hands played with, pulled, and pinched my clit while I pushed my chootar up to meet every thrust. It went on and on. My joban was crushed under his manly broad chest. We lost all sense of time. I don’t know what triggered it, but I climaxed first. I almost screamed in joy, scratched him, and bit his shoulders. That must have triggered his climax too. He kept on cumming. His semen flowed onto my thighs. When I stood up, I greedily cleaned his lund with my mouth.
He dressed and left. But for the marks on my breasts and cheeks and the cum on my thighs, I would have thought it was just a dream.
I took a bath and got ready.
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