10-04-2026, 12:11 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-04-2026, 12:44 AM by heygiwriter. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 54: The Second Round
Everything came to a sudden halt.
The room fell silent except for their ragged breathing. Suriya’s thick cock was still buried deep inside her, pulsing with the last heavy spasms of his orgasm. Anandhi lay beneath him, chest heaving, her body slick with sweat and their mixed fluids. Her legs were still wrapped loosely around his waist, trembling from the intensity.
The reality hit her like a thunderbolt.
She had actually had sex with Suriya.
She had let another man fuck her — raw, deep, and without protection. She had moaned for him like a whore. She had cum hard around his cock, her walls milking him greedily. The shame crashed over her in violent waves. Tears welled up again, spilling silently down her cheeks as she stared at the ceiling, unable to process what she had just done.
That was when she noticed the shadow outside the tomb was gone.
Jeeva was no longer there.
The small gap in the curtain showed only darkness. He had left. She felt a sharp, stabbing pang in her chest. I should speak with him tomorrow… I have to explain… I have to make this right…
But before she could dwell on it, Suriya shifted above her.
He lifted his head from her neck, eyes dark with fresh, insatiable hunger. His cock, still buried deep inside her, began to harden again — alarmingly fast, swelling and thickening, stretching her sensitive, freshly-fucked walls once more.
Anandhi’s breath hitched. “Suriya… wait…”
He didn’t wait.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, capturing one stiff nipple between his teeth and sucking hard, almost viciously. His tongue lashed across the sensitive bud, then he bit down just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-pleasure through her body. His other hand roughly kneaded her other breast, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh, pinching and twisting the nipple until it ached and throbbed.
That was the exact moment Anandhi noticed it — the thin gold mangalsutra still hanging around her neck, the sacred nuptial chain that Rahul had tied during their marriage years ago. It lay nestled between her breasts, swaying obscenely with every rough movement of Suriya’s body.
The sight hit her like a knife to the heart.
Rahul…
Tears flooded her eyes instantly. The thought of her husband — the man she had loved so deeply, the man whose memory she still clung to — flooded her with crushing guilt. She felt like the worst kind of wife, the worst kind of woman.
Suriya noticed the sudden change in her immediately. He looked straight into her tear-filled eyes, still thrusting deep and slow, and asked with a low, possessive growl, “What is it?”
Anandhi’s voice cracked, barely audible over the sound of their wet bodies slapping together.
“I… I got reminded of Rahul… the chain…”
Suriya’s expression darkened with a mix of understanding and raw, primal possessiveness. He didn’t stop moving. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke between deep, powerful thrusts.
“I will help you forget him,” he growled, voice thick with hunger. “With every thrust, I need you to take me into your thoughts… and not him.”
He began brutally fucking her.
![[Image: thrusting-and-kissing-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/209930/thrusting-and-kissing-scaled.webp)
His hips snapped forward with savage force, driving his thick cock to the deepest part of her with every violent thrust. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. He fucked her like he was trying to erase Rahul from her body and soul — hard, deep, relentless strokes that slammed into her cervix, stretching her completely.
Anandhi cried out loudly, her back arching off the bed. Tears streamed down her face, but her body betrayed her completely. Her walls clenched tightly around his invading cock, her hips rising instinctively to meet his brutal rhythm. The pleasure was overwhelming, raw, and all-consuming.
Suriya’s hands gripped her waist hard, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pounded into her without mercy. His voice was rough, almost commanding between each powerful thrust.
“Take me… only me… forget him… feel me… only me…”
Anandhi’s mind was a whirlwind of guilt and ecstasy. She whispered Rahul’s name silently in her heart, apologising again and again, but her body was lost — moaning loudly, nails raking down Suriya’s back, legs wrapped tightly around him as he fucked her senseless.
The second round was far more extreme than the first. Suriya was relentless, animalistic, taking her with a hunger that had been building for years. He fucked her until she came hard around him, screaming his name, then continued without mercy, chasing his own release again and again.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, capturing one stiff nipple between his teeth and sucking hard, almost viciously. His tongue lashed across the sensitive bud, then he bit down just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-pleasure through her body. His other hand roughly kneaded her other breast, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh, pinching and twisting the nipple until it ached and throbbed.
He devoured her breasts like a man starved. He sucked one nipple deep into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, trying to fit as much of her full, heavy breast inside as possible. He mocked her playfully between sucks, his voice husky and teasing.
“These are so big… but still not enough for my mouth,” he growled, pressing her breast hard with both hands, trying to force more of the soft flesh between his lips. “Look at them… so full… so heavy… I bet they can give milk if I suck hard enough.”
He pressed her breasts together roughly, squeezing them until the nipples stood out prominently, then latched onto one again, sucking with powerful, rhythmic pulls. He bit the side of her breast, leaving red marks, then sucked even harder, as if trying to draw milk from her.
“You need to carry a baby soon,” he murmured against her wet skin, voice dark with lust. “I need more milk from these. I want to drink from you every day.”
Anandhi whimpered, her body arching involuntarily. The mix of pain, pleasure, and his filthy words made her head spin. Shame burned in her chest, but her nipples throbbed harder, sending sparks straight to her clit.
He moved lower, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between her thighs. He ate her pussy with hungry, aggressive strokes of his tongue — licking, sucking, fucking her with it, his nose rubbing against her clit. When he finally pulled back, his chin glistening with her juices, he grabbed her hair and guided her face down to his cock.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough and commanding.
Anandhi hesitated, tears still in her eyes, but the heat in her body won. She took him in, tasting herself on his thick, veined shaft. Suriya taught her how to suck him properly — guiding her head with a firm grip in her hair, making her take him deeper, showing her how to use her tongue on the underside, how to swirl it around the sensitive head.
Then he held her head still and face-fucked her.
![[Image: to-the-wall-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/247064/to-the-wall-scaled.webp)
He thrust into her throat with controlled but firm strokes, pushing deeper each time until her nose pressed against his pubic hair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, saliva dripped from her chin and onto her breasts. She gagged and choked, but he didn’t stop — he fucked her mouth like he owned it, groaning with pleasure at the wet, obscene sounds she made.
He tortured her sexually in every way he could — fingering her roughly while she sucked him, slapping her breasts lightly, pinching her clit until she cried out around his cock, then soothing it with his tongue. He made her ride his face, grinding her pussy against his mouth until she came again, then flipped her onto all fours and fucked her from behind, hard and deep, one hand fisted in her hair, the other slapping her ass red.
![[Image: hardcore-scaled.webp]](https://cdn.xgifer.com/217455/hardcore-scaled.webp)
Anandhi was lost.
At first she cried silently, guilt tearing at her. But soon the tears flew away. The pleasure became too much. Her body surrendered completely. She began to enjoy every brutal second of it — moaning loudly, pushing back against his thrusts, begging him with broken words. The guilt was still there, but it was drowned out by the raw, overwhelming ecstasy.
When they finally collapsed together after two hours of relentless sex, both of them were drenched in sweat, breathing hard, bodies marked and spent.
They stayed like that for a long moment — bodies pressed together, his cock still buried inside her, her head resting against his shoulder, the mangalsutra lying forgotten between her breasts.
Everything came to a sudden halt.
The room fell silent except for their ragged breathing. Suriya’s thick cock was still buried deep inside her, pulsing with the last heavy spasms of his orgasm. Anandhi lay beneath him, chest heaving, her body slick with sweat and their mixed fluids. Her legs were still wrapped loosely around his waist, trembling from the intensity.
The reality hit her like a thunderbolt.
She had actually had sex with Suriya.
She had let another man fuck her — raw, deep, and without protection. She had moaned for him like a whore. She had cum hard around his cock, her walls milking him greedily. The shame crashed over her in violent waves. Tears welled up again, spilling silently down her cheeks as she stared at the ceiling, unable to process what she had just done.
That was when she noticed the shadow outside the tomb was gone.
Jeeva was no longer there.
The small gap in the curtain showed only darkness. He had left. She felt a sharp, stabbing pang in her chest. I should speak with him tomorrow… I have to explain… I have to make this right…
But before she could dwell on it, Suriya shifted above her.
He lifted his head from her neck, eyes dark with fresh, insatiable hunger. His cock, still buried deep inside her, began to harden again — alarmingly fast, swelling and thickening, stretching her sensitive, freshly-fucked walls once more.
Anandhi’s breath hitched. “Suriya… wait…”
He didn’t wait.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, capturing one stiff nipple between his teeth and sucking hard, almost viciously. His tongue lashed across the sensitive bud, then he bit down just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-pleasure through her body. His other hand roughly kneaded her other breast, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh, pinching and twisting the nipple until it ached and throbbed.
That was the exact moment Anandhi noticed it — the thin gold mangalsutra still hanging around her neck, the sacred nuptial chain that Rahul had tied during their marriage years ago. It lay nestled between her breasts, swaying obscenely with every rough movement of Suriya’s body.
The sight hit her like a knife to the heart.
Rahul…
Tears flooded her eyes instantly. The thought of her husband — the man she had loved so deeply, the man whose memory she still clung to — flooded her with crushing guilt. She felt like the worst kind of wife, the worst kind of woman.
Suriya noticed the sudden change in her immediately. He looked straight into her tear-filled eyes, still thrusting deep and slow, and asked with a low, possessive growl, “What is it?”
Anandhi’s voice cracked, barely audible over the sound of their wet bodies slapping together.
“I… I got reminded of Rahul… the chain…”
Suriya’s expression darkened with a mix of understanding and raw, primal possessiveness. He didn’t stop moving. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke between deep, powerful thrusts.
“I will help you forget him,” he growled, voice thick with hunger. “With every thrust, I need you to take me into your thoughts… and not him.”
He began brutally fucking her.
His hips snapped forward with savage force, driving his thick cock to the deepest part of her with every violent thrust. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. He fucked her like he was trying to erase Rahul from her body and soul — hard, deep, relentless strokes that slammed into her cervix, stretching her completely.
Anandhi cried out loudly, her back arching off the bed. Tears streamed down her face, but her body betrayed her completely. Her walls clenched tightly around his invading cock, her hips rising instinctively to meet his brutal rhythm. The pleasure was overwhelming, raw, and all-consuming.
Suriya’s hands gripped her waist hard, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pounded into her without mercy. His voice was rough, almost commanding between each powerful thrust.
“Take me… only me… forget him… feel me… only me…”
Anandhi’s mind was a whirlwind of guilt and ecstasy. She whispered Rahul’s name silently in her heart, apologising again and again, but her body was lost — moaning loudly, nails raking down Suriya’s back, legs wrapped tightly around him as he fucked her senseless.
The second round was far more extreme than the first. Suriya was relentless, animalistic, taking her with a hunger that had been building for years. He fucked her until she came hard around him, screaming his name, then continued without mercy, chasing his own release again and again.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, capturing one stiff nipple between his teeth and sucking hard, almost viciously. His tongue lashed across the sensitive bud, then he bit down just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-pleasure through her body. His other hand roughly kneaded her other breast, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh, pinching and twisting the nipple until it ached and throbbed.
He devoured her breasts like a man starved. He sucked one nipple deep into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, trying to fit as much of her full, heavy breast inside as possible. He mocked her playfully between sucks, his voice husky and teasing.
“These are so big… but still not enough for my mouth,” he growled, pressing her breast hard with both hands, trying to force more of the soft flesh between his lips. “Look at them… so full… so heavy… I bet they can give milk if I suck hard enough.”
He pressed her breasts together roughly, squeezing them until the nipples stood out prominently, then latched onto one again, sucking with powerful, rhythmic pulls. He bit the side of her breast, leaving red marks, then sucked even harder, as if trying to draw milk from her.
“You need to carry a baby soon,” he murmured against her wet skin, voice dark with lust. “I need more milk from these. I want to drink from you every day.”
Anandhi whimpered, her body arching involuntarily. The mix of pain, pleasure, and his filthy words made her head spin. Shame burned in her chest, but her nipples throbbed harder, sending sparks straight to her clit.
He moved lower, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between her thighs. He ate her pussy with hungry, aggressive strokes of his tongue — licking, sucking, fucking her with it, his nose rubbing against her clit. When he finally pulled back, his chin glistening with her juices, he grabbed her hair and guided her face down to his cock.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough and commanding.
Anandhi hesitated, tears still in her eyes, but the heat in her body won. She took him in, tasting herself on his thick, veined shaft. Suriya taught her how to suck him properly — guiding her head with a firm grip in her hair, making her take him deeper, showing her how to use her tongue on the underside, how to swirl it around the sensitive head.
Then he held her head still and face-fucked her.
He thrust into her throat with controlled but firm strokes, pushing deeper each time until her nose pressed against his pubic hair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, saliva dripped from her chin and onto her breasts. She gagged and choked, but he didn’t stop — he fucked her mouth like he owned it, groaning with pleasure at the wet, obscene sounds she made.
He tortured her sexually in every way he could — fingering her roughly while she sucked him, slapping her breasts lightly, pinching her clit until she cried out around his cock, then soothing it with his tongue. He made her ride his face, grinding her pussy against his mouth until she came again, then flipped her onto all fours and fucked her from behind, hard and deep, one hand fisted in her hair, the other slapping her ass red.
Anandhi was lost.
At first she cried silently, guilt tearing at her. But soon the tears flew away. The pleasure became too much. Her body surrendered completely. She began to enjoy every brutal second of it — moaning loudly, pushing back against his thrusts, begging him with broken words. The guilt was still there, but it was drowned out by the raw, overwhelming ecstasy.
When they finally collapsed together after two hours of relentless sex, both of them were drenched in sweat, breathing hard, bodies marked and spent.
They stayed like that for a long moment — bodies pressed together, his cock still buried inside her, her head resting against his shoulder, the mangalsutra lying forgotten between her breasts.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)