14-06-2026, 10:28 AM
(This post was last modified: 14-06-2026, 10:39 AM by SilverArrow. Edited 4 times in total. Edited 4 times in total.)
Outside, the heavy rain kept falling in its steady, patient rhythm against the windows, never hurrying. Inside the cozy bedroom, the warm golden lamplight from the bedside lamps created a soft, intimate glow that left nothing hidden. The moody metal music played very low, its deep bass barely audible but felt through the mattress.
Monica remained seated in the center of the large bed, the torn red dress long forgotten on the floor. She was now wearing only her delicate red lace lingerie, and the men took their time looking at her.
![[Image: 737858533-1000190966.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/DHXyfw9x/737858533-1000190966.gif)
The push-up bra was barely managing — its thin straps rested on her shoulders, while the sheer scalloped lace cups held her heavy, full breasts with obvious strain. They overflowed softly at the top and sides, creating deep, natural cleavage that rose and fell with each slow breath. Her hardened nipples pressed clearly against the fine fabric, forming visible peaks that shifted slightly whenever she moved. The bra pushed everything up and together in a way that made her chest look even more prominent and inviting under the soft light.
Lower down, her tiny red lace thong was almost nonexistent. The small triangular front panel of sheer red lace clung tightly to her mound, stretched thin from the way her thighs were parted. The thin strings rode high on her wide, curvaceous hips, pressing gently into her smooth skin. At the back, it was nothing more than a delicate string that disappeared completely between her full, round ass cheeks, leaving her entire backside bare. Every small shift caused the soaked lace to rub against her most sensitive areas.
She looked incredibly exposed — skin flushed warm, thighs still faintly marked from earlier grips, chest heaving slowly, the tiny lingerie doing almost nothing to hide her arousal.
Ustad, still blindfolded, kept his large, rough hands resting heavily on her upper thighs for a long time. He simply held her open, letting the moment stretch. His hot breath fanned slowly across her inner thighs. Then, with deliberate patience, he leaned in.
He started with soft, open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of her left thigh, lingering there before gently biting down — just enough pressure from his teeth to make her feel it. He sucked on that spot slowly, then dragged his warm, wet tongue in one long, heavy stroke upward. He repeated the same on her right thigh, taking his time with each kiss, each bite, each lick. His thick beard scbangd lightly against her skin as he worked higher.
Monica’s breathing grew shaky. “Stop this....No...No...Ustad… your teeth...ahhh” she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and building heat. She squirmed slowly on the bed but didn’t pull away.
Ustad’s hands tightened on her thighs. He turned her slightly on the bed with firm but unhurried movements so he could reach more. He leaned lower and began biting and licking along the underside of her ass cheeks, right over the thin string of her thong. His teeth gently gripped the soft flesh through the lace, tugging lightly before soothing it with slow, wet licks. The thin string offered no protection — every bite and lick was felt directly on her bare skin.
Monica’s eyes widened in shock. She gasped loudly.
“Ustad! Stop… what are you doing?! Not there… ahhh… the whole building will hear if I shout like this!”
Her voice rose sharply, a mix of genuine panic and overwhelming arousal. Her hands gripped the sheet tightly as her body trembled. Inside, despite the shock, the slow attention was making her burn with need. “Please… someone might wake up… Ustad no please!”
Bheem, stroking himself slowly over his pants, let out a low chuckle.
“Let them hear, Monica . The whole building should know what’s happening in this room tonight. That a beautiful wife like you is getting properly taken care of by all of us..”
Rakesh, sitting in the chair directly in front, was now barely conscious. He slumped heavily to one side, nearly sliding off the chair. His head lolled, eyes half-closed under the blindfold. Ustad noticed and reached over without stopping his licking, giving Rakesh a firm smack on the shoulder.
“Stay awake, madarchod. This is for you to hear.”
Raju leaned in closer from the side, his hand still moving lazily over his bulge. He tilted his head to get a clear view between Monica’s legs.
“Look at this… she’s completely shaved down there. Smooth as anything. Bheem, come see properly.” He gestured to Bheem.
“See how neat her chut looks under that tiny lace? All bare and trimmed.”
Bheem shifted for a better look, still stroking himself.
“Damn… yes. Perfectly shaved. Why do you keep it like that, Monica ? Tell us.”
Monica’s face burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but her body kept reacting to Ustad’s slow bites and licks on her ass and thighs. She tried to sound firm.
“What sort of question is that? Why are you even asking me something so personal?”
The men didn’t let it go. Raju smiled slowly.
“Come on, tell us. We’re curious.”
Monica let out an angry, breathless huff, but her voice carried that stubborn, playful edge even through the panting.
“I just… love it that way, okay? . Now stop asking me such things while he’s… ahhh… Ustad Ahhhhhhh....., . ahhhhhhh..your teeth hurting me soooo much…”
" Ahhh ustad no...no...no
Ahh..ahhhhhh .ahhh "
Monica was shouting and moaning uncontrolled..
Ustad continued his slow, devouring assault — biting and licking her ass cheeks over the thong string, then returning to her inner thighs and navel, never rushing any single touch. His hands held her firmly in place the entire time. Monica panted and moaned crazily, shocked at how loud she was getting, yet clearly lost in the sensations.
This agonizingly slow molestation stretched on for many long minutes. Ustad took his time exploring every curve, every sensitive spot, while the men continued their low, natural commentary and kept Rakesh from fully passing out with occasional firm taps.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Ustad slowed to long, final licks, cleaning the last traces of chocolate. He pulled back gradually.
Monica gasped loudly. She lay there trembling for a long moment before slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position. Still wearing only her bra and tiny soaked thong, she looked flushed, panting, and visibly angry, though her eyes still held that horny, overwhelmed shine.
“What the hell did you all just do?” she demanded breathlessly, her voice sharp but laced with heavy playfulness. She gestured at the torn dress on the floor. “Tearing my dress like that? Really?”
Bheem leaned back in his chair, still breathing heavily, and spoke calmly.
“Relax, Monica. It’s just the game. These things happen when the heat rises. It’s all part of it.”
Monica stared at them, her chest still heaving. She tried to sound properly angry, but her voice came out with loads of erotic undertone and teasing sass.
“Really? This was all planned, wasn’t it? Getting me down to just my bra and panties… you bunch of asshole...baadmash! You planned to strip me like this on my own bed!”
![[Image: 737856953-1000190950.gif]](https://i.ibb.co/mC844s6F/737856953-1000190950.gif)
She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up further, but didn’t make any real effort to cover herself. The mix of anger, playfulness, and lingering arousal hung thick in the air.
The men watched her with slow, satisfied smiles, the rain still falling steadily outside.
Monica remained seated in the center of the large bed, the torn red dress long forgotten on the floor. She was now wearing only her delicate red lace lingerie, and the men took their time looking at her.
The push-up bra was barely managing — its thin straps rested on her shoulders, while the sheer scalloped lace cups held her heavy, full breasts with obvious strain. They overflowed softly at the top and sides, creating deep, natural cleavage that rose and fell with each slow breath. Her hardened nipples pressed clearly against the fine fabric, forming visible peaks that shifted slightly whenever she moved. The bra pushed everything up and together in a way that made her chest look even more prominent and inviting under the soft light.
Lower down, her tiny red lace thong was almost nonexistent. The small triangular front panel of sheer red lace clung tightly to her mound, stretched thin from the way her thighs were parted. The thin strings rode high on her wide, curvaceous hips, pressing gently into her smooth skin. At the back, it was nothing more than a delicate string that disappeared completely between her full, round ass cheeks, leaving her entire backside bare. Every small shift caused the soaked lace to rub against her most sensitive areas.
She looked incredibly exposed — skin flushed warm, thighs still faintly marked from earlier grips, chest heaving slowly, the tiny lingerie doing almost nothing to hide her arousal.
Ustad, still blindfolded, kept his large, rough hands resting heavily on her upper thighs for a long time. He simply held her open, letting the moment stretch. His hot breath fanned slowly across her inner thighs. Then, with deliberate patience, he leaned in.
He started with soft, open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of her left thigh, lingering there before gently biting down — just enough pressure from his teeth to make her feel it. He sucked on that spot slowly, then dragged his warm, wet tongue in one long, heavy stroke upward. He repeated the same on her right thigh, taking his time with each kiss, each bite, each lick. His thick beard scbangd lightly against her skin as he worked higher.
Monica’s breathing grew shaky. “Stop this....No...No...Ustad… your teeth...ahhh” she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and building heat. She squirmed slowly on the bed but didn’t pull away.
Ustad’s hands tightened on her thighs. He turned her slightly on the bed with firm but unhurried movements so he could reach more. He leaned lower and began biting and licking along the underside of her ass cheeks, right over the thin string of her thong. His teeth gently gripped the soft flesh through the lace, tugging lightly before soothing it with slow, wet licks. The thin string offered no protection — every bite and lick was felt directly on her bare skin.
Monica’s eyes widened in shock. She gasped loudly.
“Ustad! Stop… what are you doing?! Not there… ahhh… the whole building will hear if I shout like this!”
Her voice rose sharply, a mix of genuine panic and overwhelming arousal. Her hands gripped the sheet tightly as her body trembled. Inside, despite the shock, the slow attention was making her burn with need. “Please… someone might wake up… Ustad no please!”
Bheem, stroking himself slowly over his pants, let out a low chuckle.
“Let them hear, Monica . The whole building should know what’s happening in this room tonight. That a beautiful wife like you is getting properly taken care of by all of us..”
Rakesh, sitting in the chair directly in front, was now barely conscious. He slumped heavily to one side, nearly sliding off the chair. His head lolled, eyes half-closed under the blindfold. Ustad noticed and reached over without stopping his licking, giving Rakesh a firm smack on the shoulder.
“Stay awake, madarchod. This is for you to hear.”
Raju leaned in closer from the side, his hand still moving lazily over his bulge. He tilted his head to get a clear view between Monica’s legs.
“Look at this… she’s completely shaved down there. Smooth as anything. Bheem, come see properly.” He gestured to Bheem.
“See how neat her chut looks under that tiny lace? All bare and trimmed.”
Bheem shifted for a better look, still stroking himself.
“Damn… yes. Perfectly shaved. Why do you keep it like that, Monica ? Tell us.”
Monica’s face burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but her body kept reacting to Ustad’s slow bites and licks on her ass and thighs. She tried to sound firm.
“What sort of question is that? Why are you even asking me something so personal?”
The men didn’t let it go. Raju smiled slowly.
“Come on, tell us. We’re curious.”
Monica let out an angry, breathless huff, but her voice carried that stubborn, playful edge even through the panting.
“I just… love it that way, okay? . Now stop asking me such things while he’s… ahhh… Ustad Ahhhhhhh....., . ahhhhhhh..your teeth hurting me soooo much…”
" Ahhh ustad no...no...no
Ahh..ahhhhhh .ahhh "
Monica was shouting and moaning uncontrolled..
Ustad continued his slow, devouring assault — biting and licking her ass cheeks over the thong string, then returning to her inner thighs and navel, never rushing any single touch. His hands held her firmly in place the entire time. Monica panted and moaned crazily, shocked at how loud she was getting, yet clearly lost in the sensations.
This agonizingly slow molestation stretched on for many long minutes. Ustad took his time exploring every curve, every sensitive spot, while the men continued their low, natural commentary and kept Rakesh from fully passing out with occasional firm taps.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Ustad slowed to long, final licks, cleaning the last traces of chocolate. He pulled back gradually.
Monica gasped loudly. She lay there trembling for a long moment before slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position. Still wearing only her bra and tiny soaked thong, she looked flushed, panting, and visibly angry, though her eyes still held that horny, overwhelmed shine.
“What the hell did you all just do?” she demanded breathlessly, her voice sharp but laced with heavy playfulness. She gestured at the torn dress on the floor. “Tearing my dress like that? Really?”
Bheem leaned back in his chair, still breathing heavily, and spoke calmly.
“Relax, Monica. It’s just the game. These things happen when the heat rises. It’s all part of it.”
Monica stared at them, her chest still heaving. She tried to sound properly angry, but her voice came out with loads of erotic undertone and teasing sass.
“Really? This was all planned, wasn’t it? Getting me down to just my bra and panties… you bunch of asshole...baadmash! You planned to strip me like this on my own bed!”
She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up further, but didn’t make any real effort to cover herself. The mix of anger, playfulness, and lingering arousal hung thick in the air.
The men watched her with slow, satisfied smiles, the rain still falling steadily outside.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)