5 hours ago
“Sorry, mama,” she said, her voice muffled against his skin. “I got distracted.”
She turned her face back to his cock and pressed a long, slow kiss to the side of the shaft, her lips lingering against the hot skin. Then she pulled back just far enough to look at it again, her eyes tracing the length of him with the particular focus she brought to everything that mattered.
“Say it again,” Selvam said from above her. His voice was wrecked, the words barely making it past his clenched jaw.
Vanitha smiled against his shaft. “I’m yours, mama. All yours.” She pressed another kiss to the vein, her lips dragging upward. “This cock is mine. This man is mine. My father-in-law. My lover. Mine.”
His hand tightened in her hair. She felt the pull at her scalp, the slight sting that made her clit pulse between her thighs. She was still wet from his mouth, the slick gathering where her thighs pressed together, and the ache between her legs was building again, slow and insistent.
She opened her mouth and took the head between her lips.
The taste hit her first... salt and musk and the particular clean bitterness of pre-cum. The head was hot and smooth against her tongue, the ridge sharp beneath her upper lip. She closed her lips around him and sucked, gentle, her tongue pressing against the slit.
Selvam’s thigh jerked against her arm. A sound came out of him... low, broken, the particular noise of a man who had been holding himself together for twelve hours and was finally, finally letting go.
Vanitha hollowed her cheeks and pulled back, her lips sliding along the shaft with a wet sound that echoed in the quiet suite. She took him deeper on the next stroke, the head pressing against the back of her tongue, and she held herself there, her throat relaxing around him. She felt the vein pulse against her tongue, felt the way his cock swelled in her mouth, and she pulled back slowly, her lips tight around him.
“Fuck,” Selvam breathed. His hand was still in her hair, his grip firm but not controlling. He was letting her set the pace, letting her take what she wanted, and the trust in that... the particular surrender of a man who controlled everything... made her chest ache.
She pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him. His face was a mask of barely contained need... his jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, his eyes dark and fixed on her mouth. The vein in his neck throbbed visibly, his pulse hammering beneath the skin.
“You taste so good, mama,” she said, her voice hoarse. She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and stroked once, slow, her thumb tracing the vein. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
“Say it again,” he said. The words came out rough, fragmented, his control slipping.
“I’ve missed your cock, mama.” She pressed her lips to the head again, tongue swirling around the ridge. “I’ve missed the way it feels in my mouth. The way it fills me up.” She took him deeper, her nose brushing the coarse hair at the base, and felt him pulse against the back of her throat. “I’ve missed the way you taste when you’re about to come.”
She pulled back and looked at him. His chest was heaving, his abs clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. The lake light caught the sweat on his skin, turning it to something luminous, and she could see the particular tension in his body... the way every muscle was engaged, holding himself back from the edge.
“Are you close?” she asked, her hand still wrapped around the base, stroking in slow, deliberate pulls.
Selvam’s jaw worked. He swallowed. “Not yet.”
She smiled. “Liar.”
His hand found her chin, his thumb pressing against her lower lip. “I want to come inside you, ma. Not in your mouth.”
The words landed between them, heavy and specific. Vanitha felt her clit pulse at the thought... his cock buried deep inside her, his hips pressed flush against her ass, his cum filling her in thick, hot pulses. The image made her thighs clench.
“Then fuck me,” she said. She released his cock and sat back on her heels, her hands on his thighs. The gold waist chain sat low on her hips, catching the light, and her breasts swayed with the movement. “Fuck your daughter-in-law, mama. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
Selvam’s eyes dropped to her body... the bare breasts, the flat stomach, the perfect navel, the gold chain marking the boundary between torso and hip. His gaze lingered on her navel, and she saw the particular darkening of his eyes, the way his jaw tightened.
He wanted to come in her navel. She could see it in his face... the specific hunger, the particular fixation that had nothing to do with her cunt and everything to do with that shallow, perfect hollow between her hipbones.
“Not yet,” he said, reading her expression. “First I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Vanitha’s breath caught. Her clit throbbed between her thighs, the slick gathering there, and she felt herself clench around nothing, her body already preparing for him.
Selvam moved. In one fluid motion, he sat up and pulled her into his lap, her back against his chest, his cock hard and hot against the cleft of her ass. His arms wrapped around her, one hand finding her breast, the other sliding down her stomach to the waist chain.
“Tell me what you want,” he said against her ear, his voice low and rough. His thumb brushed her nipple, and she arched into his touch.
“Your cock, mama. Inside me. Now.”
His hand moved from her breast to her hip, gripping the curve of bone, and he lifted her slightly. She felt the head of his cock press against her entrance... blunt, hot, the thick ridge pushing against her wet folds.
“Say it again,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper against her ear.
“I want your cock inside me, mama. I want you to fuck your daughter-in-law until she screams your name.”
Selvam pushed up.
The head of his cock pushed past her entrance, and Vanitha’s breath left her in a sharp exhale. She felt the stretch immediately... the thick ridge of his head spreading her open, the particular fullness that made her eyes water. Her body resisted for one suspended moment, then yielded, accepting him inch by inch.
“God,” she breathed, her hands flying to his thighs behind her. “You’re so big, mama. So fucking big.”
Selvam’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her steady as he pushed deeper. She felt every inch of him sliding into her, the drag of his cock against her walls sending sparks of pleasure up through her belly. When he was fully seated... his hips flush against her ass, his cock buried to the root inside her... he held there. Completely still. His breath was ragged against the nape of her neck, his chest heaving against her back.
“Say it again,” he whispered. His hand found her breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple. “Tell me what you want.”
Vanitha’s head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted. “I want you to fuck me, mama. I want you to use me. I want you to take what’s yours.”
His hips snapped forward, a sharp, punishing thrust that pushed a cry from her throat. She felt the head of his cock press against the back of her entrance, the pressure deep and almost too much. He pulled back and thrust again, harder this time, and the sound his body made against hers... skin on skin, wet and obscene... filled the quiet suite.
“Louder,” he said against her ear. His teeth grazed the lobe, and she shivered. “I want the whole hotel to hear you.”
Vanitha’s hand flew to his thigh, her nails digging into the hard muscle. His pace built quickly... not gentle, not measured, but raw and desperate, each thrust driving into her with a force that pushed her forward on his lap. She braced her hands on his knees, her back arched, taking every inch of him.
“You feel incredible,” Selvam growled, his hand sliding from her breast to her throat. His palm pressed against her pulse point, not squeezing, just holding. “So tight around me. So wet. You were made for this, ma. Made for my cock.”
The words made her clit pulse, the swollen bundle of nerves throbbing with each thrust. She could feel herself getting close, the pressure building at the base of her spine, her walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses.
“Harder,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please, mama. I need it harder.”
Selvam’s hand tightened on her throat. He shifted his hips, changing the angle, and the next thrust hit the spot that made her vision blur. Vanitha’s mouth fell open on a sound that was half scream, half his name, and her body went rigid in his arms.
“There,” he said, his voice rough and satisfied. “Right there. That’s what you need.”
He fucked her like that... hard and deep, each stroke hitting that perfect spot, his hand on her throat keeping her exactly where he wanted her. The bed frame creaked against the wall, the sound sharp in the quiet suite, and Vanitha’s cries grew louder, more desperate, the particular broken sounds of a woman being fucked exactly the way she needed.
“I’m close,” she managed, the words barely coherent. “Mama, I’m so close.”
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She turned her head, her cheek brushing his, and found his eyes already on her. Dark. Intense. Fixed on her face with the particular focus that made her stomach flip. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flared, and she could see the tension building in his body... the way his muscles flexed with each thrust, the way his breathing had gone ragged and shallow.
“Don’t look away,” he said.
She couldn’t have if she’d tried. His eyes held hers as his pace built to something relentless, his hips driving into her with a force that pushed the air from her lungs. The pressure crested... a wave gathering force at the base of her spine... and when his cock hit that spot one final time, her vision went white at the edges.
The orgasm tore through her with a violence that made her scream. Her walls clenched around him in rhythmic pulses, each one drawing a grunt from deep in his chest. She felt his hand tighten on her throat, not restricting her breath but holding her there, keeping her present as pleasure ripped through her body.
“Good girl,” he murmured against her ear, his voice rough and wrecked. “That’s it. Let me feel you.”
Vanitha’s body shook against his, the aftershocks rolling through her in waves. She felt boneless, hollowed out, her head falling back against his shoulder as her breathing came in ragged gasps. Selvam’s hand eased on her throat, his palm flat against her pulse, his fingers spread wide.
He didn’t stop. His hips kept moving, the rhythm slower now but no less deliberate, each thrust pushing him deep enough that she felt the head of his cock against the back of her entrance. His hand stayed on her throat, his thumb resting against the pulse point where her blood hammered, and she could feel the tension building in his body... the particular tightening of his thighs beneath her, the way his breathing had gone ragged and shallow against her ear.
“Vanitha,” he said, her name rough in his throat. “I’m going to... ”
His hips snapped forward one final time, and she felt him go rigid behind her. His cock pulsed inside her, thick and hot, and the first rush of cum hit her walls. His hand tightened on her throat, not squeezing but holding, and a sound came out of him that she had never heard before... low and broken, almost pained, the particular noise of a man who had stopped holding himself together.
She felt each pulse, each thick spurt of him filling her, his hips pressed flush against her ass as he emptied himself completely. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, and his hand on her throat eased into something gentler... his palm flat against her pulse, his fingers spread wide, just holding her there.
He stayed inside her while his breathing slowed, his cock still hard but softening gradually, the wet heat of him pooled deep inside her body. She could feel his heart beating against her back, rapid and strong, slowing with each breath.
Vanitha turned her face into his neck, pressing her lips against the warm skin. His pulse hammered beneath her mouth, still fast, and she kissed the spot where the vein throbbed, feeling it gradually slow.
“Say it again,” she whispered against his skin.
Selvam’s arm tightened around her waist. “You’re mine, ma. All mine.”
The words settled over her like something warm and heavy. She closed her eyes, her body still humming with the aftershocks, and let herself feel the particular weight of being held by a man who had finally, finally stopped pretending he didn’t want her.
Outside the window, the lake was dark now, the city lights reflected in the still water like scattered jewels. The suite was quiet except for their breathing, the occasional soft creak of the bed as one of them shifted, and the distant lap of water against the Zurich shore.
Selvam pulled out of her slowly, the wet sound of separation making her face flush. She felt the rush of his cum between her thighs, warm and thick, and she pressed her legs together to keep it there... to keep him inside her a little longer.
He pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her body, and she felt the particular warmth of skin against skin as he settled her against him. His cock was still half-hard against her hip, the head slick and sensitive, and she felt it twitch when she shifted closer.
“Stay,” he said. The word was quiet but certain.
Vanitha looked up at him. His face was close, his eyes dark and unfocused, his lips slightly parted. He looked wrecked in a way she had never seen... his hair disheveled from her hands, his jaw slack, the careful composure he maintained in every other context completely absent.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
His hand found her face, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, mama.” She pressed her lips to his palm, feeling the calluses against her mouth. “I’ve always been yours.”
Selvam’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she felt the scratch of his stubble against her forehead as he shifted. They lay tangled in the rumpled sheets, the rose petals crushed beneath them, the lake dark beyond the window.
Vanitha’s fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough texture of his morning stubble, and she pulled him down into a kiss. His mouth was warm and sure against hers, his tongue sliding against her lower lip, and she felt something settle in her chest... a particular warmth that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the man holding her.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.
Selvam’s throat tightened. The words hit him like a physical blow, landing somewhere beneath his sternum and spreading outward. I love you. Three words. Simple. Devastating.
For some reason, Summer’s smiling face flashed in Selvam’s mind. He had just ejaculated, and whether it was post-nut clarity or not, his thoughts lingered on Summer for the moment while his cum-filled Vanitha lay on top of him.
She turned her face back to his cock and pressed a long, slow kiss to the side of the shaft, her lips lingering against the hot skin. Then she pulled back just far enough to look at it again, her eyes tracing the length of him with the particular focus she brought to everything that mattered.
“Say it again,” Selvam said from above her. His voice was wrecked, the words barely making it past his clenched jaw.
Vanitha smiled against his shaft. “I’m yours, mama. All yours.” She pressed another kiss to the vein, her lips dragging upward. “This cock is mine. This man is mine. My father-in-law. My lover. Mine.”
His hand tightened in her hair. She felt the pull at her scalp, the slight sting that made her clit pulse between her thighs. She was still wet from his mouth, the slick gathering where her thighs pressed together, and the ache between her legs was building again, slow and insistent.
She opened her mouth and took the head between her lips.
The taste hit her first... salt and musk and the particular clean bitterness of pre-cum. The head was hot and smooth against her tongue, the ridge sharp beneath her upper lip. She closed her lips around him and sucked, gentle, her tongue pressing against the slit.
Selvam’s thigh jerked against her arm. A sound came out of him... low, broken, the particular noise of a man who had been holding himself together for twelve hours and was finally, finally letting go.
Vanitha hollowed her cheeks and pulled back, her lips sliding along the shaft with a wet sound that echoed in the quiet suite. She took him deeper on the next stroke, the head pressing against the back of her tongue, and she held herself there, her throat relaxing around him. She felt the vein pulse against her tongue, felt the way his cock swelled in her mouth, and she pulled back slowly, her lips tight around him.
“Fuck,” Selvam breathed. His hand was still in her hair, his grip firm but not controlling. He was letting her set the pace, letting her take what she wanted, and the trust in that... the particular surrender of a man who controlled everything... made her chest ache.
She pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him. His face was a mask of barely contained need... his jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, his eyes dark and fixed on her mouth. The vein in his neck throbbed visibly, his pulse hammering beneath the skin.
“You taste so good, mama,” she said, her voice hoarse. She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and stroked once, slow, her thumb tracing the vein. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
“Say it again,” he said. The words came out rough, fragmented, his control slipping.
“I’ve missed your cock, mama.” She pressed her lips to the head again, tongue swirling around the ridge. “I’ve missed the way it feels in my mouth. The way it fills me up.” She took him deeper, her nose brushing the coarse hair at the base, and felt him pulse against the back of her throat. “I’ve missed the way you taste when you’re about to come.”
She pulled back and looked at him. His chest was heaving, his abs clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. The lake light caught the sweat on his skin, turning it to something luminous, and she could see the particular tension in his body... the way every muscle was engaged, holding himself back from the edge.
“Are you close?” she asked, her hand still wrapped around the base, stroking in slow, deliberate pulls.
Selvam’s jaw worked. He swallowed. “Not yet.”
She smiled. “Liar.”
His hand found her chin, his thumb pressing against her lower lip. “I want to come inside you, ma. Not in your mouth.”
The words landed between them, heavy and specific. Vanitha felt her clit pulse at the thought... his cock buried deep inside her, his hips pressed flush against her ass, his cum filling her in thick, hot pulses. The image made her thighs clench.
“Then fuck me,” she said. She released his cock and sat back on her heels, her hands on his thighs. The gold waist chain sat low on her hips, catching the light, and her breasts swayed with the movement. “Fuck your daughter-in-law, mama. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
Selvam’s eyes dropped to her body... the bare breasts, the flat stomach, the perfect navel, the gold chain marking the boundary between torso and hip. His gaze lingered on her navel, and she saw the particular darkening of his eyes, the way his jaw tightened.
He wanted to come in her navel. She could see it in his face... the specific hunger, the particular fixation that had nothing to do with her cunt and everything to do with that shallow, perfect hollow between her hipbones.
“Not yet,” he said, reading her expression. “First I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Vanitha’s breath caught. Her clit throbbed between her thighs, the slick gathering there, and she felt herself clench around nothing, her body already preparing for him.
Selvam moved. In one fluid motion, he sat up and pulled her into his lap, her back against his chest, his cock hard and hot against the cleft of her ass. His arms wrapped around her, one hand finding her breast, the other sliding down her stomach to the waist chain.
“Tell me what you want,” he said against her ear, his voice low and rough. His thumb brushed her nipple, and she arched into his touch.
“Your cock, mama. Inside me. Now.”
His hand moved from her breast to her hip, gripping the curve of bone, and he lifted her slightly. She felt the head of his cock press against her entrance... blunt, hot, the thick ridge pushing against her wet folds.
“Say it again,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper against her ear.
“I want your cock inside me, mama. I want you to fuck your daughter-in-law until she screams your name.”
Selvam pushed up.
The head of his cock pushed past her entrance, and Vanitha’s breath left her in a sharp exhale. She felt the stretch immediately... the thick ridge of his head spreading her open, the particular fullness that made her eyes water. Her body resisted for one suspended moment, then yielded, accepting him inch by inch.
“God,” she breathed, her hands flying to his thighs behind her. “You’re so big, mama. So fucking big.”
Selvam’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her steady as he pushed deeper. She felt every inch of him sliding into her, the drag of his cock against her walls sending sparks of pleasure up through her belly. When he was fully seated... his hips flush against her ass, his cock buried to the root inside her... he held there. Completely still. His breath was ragged against the nape of her neck, his chest heaving against her back.
“Say it again,” he whispered. His hand found her breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple. “Tell me what you want.”
Vanitha’s head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted. “I want you to fuck me, mama. I want you to use me. I want you to take what’s yours.”
His hips snapped forward, a sharp, punishing thrust that pushed a cry from her throat. She felt the head of his cock press against the back of her entrance, the pressure deep and almost too much. He pulled back and thrust again, harder this time, and the sound his body made against hers... skin on skin, wet and obscene... filled the quiet suite.
“Louder,” he said against her ear. His teeth grazed the lobe, and she shivered. “I want the whole hotel to hear you.”
Vanitha’s hand flew to his thigh, her nails digging into the hard muscle. His pace built quickly... not gentle, not measured, but raw and desperate, each thrust driving into her with a force that pushed her forward on his lap. She braced her hands on his knees, her back arched, taking every inch of him.
“You feel incredible,” Selvam growled, his hand sliding from her breast to her throat. His palm pressed against her pulse point, not squeezing, just holding. “So tight around me. So wet. You were made for this, ma. Made for my cock.”
The words made her clit pulse, the swollen bundle of nerves throbbing with each thrust. She could feel herself getting close, the pressure building at the base of her spine, her walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses.
“Harder,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please, mama. I need it harder.”
Selvam’s hand tightened on her throat. He shifted his hips, changing the angle, and the next thrust hit the spot that made her vision blur. Vanitha’s mouth fell open on a sound that was half scream, half his name, and her body went rigid in his arms.
“There,” he said, his voice rough and satisfied. “Right there. That’s what you need.”
He fucked her like that... hard and deep, each stroke hitting that perfect spot, his hand on her throat keeping her exactly where he wanted her. The bed frame creaked against the wall, the sound sharp in the quiet suite, and Vanitha’s cries grew louder, more desperate, the particular broken sounds of a woman being fucked exactly the way she needed.
“I’m close,” she managed, the words barely coherent. “Mama, I’m so close.”
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She turned her head, her cheek brushing his, and found his eyes already on her. Dark. Intense. Fixed on her face with the particular focus that made her stomach flip. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flared, and she could see the tension building in his body... the way his muscles flexed with each thrust, the way his breathing had gone ragged and shallow.
“Don’t look away,” he said.
She couldn’t have if she’d tried. His eyes held hers as his pace built to something relentless, his hips driving into her with a force that pushed the air from her lungs. The pressure crested... a wave gathering force at the base of her spine... and when his cock hit that spot one final time, her vision went white at the edges.
The orgasm tore through her with a violence that made her scream. Her walls clenched around him in rhythmic pulses, each one drawing a grunt from deep in his chest. She felt his hand tighten on her throat, not restricting her breath but holding her there, keeping her present as pleasure ripped through her body.
“Good girl,” he murmured against her ear, his voice rough and wrecked. “That’s it. Let me feel you.”
Vanitha’s body shook against his, the aftershocks rolling through her in waves. She felt boneless, hollowed out, her head falling back against his shoulder as her breathing came in ragged gasps. Selvam’s hand eased on her throat, his palm flat against her pulse, his fingers spread wide.
He didn’t stop. His hips kept moving, the rhythm slower now but no less deliberate, each thrust pushing him deep enough that she felt the head of his cock against the back of her entrance. His hand stayed on her throat, his thumb resting against the pulse point where her blood hammered, and she could feel the tension building in his body... the particular tightening of his thighs beneath her, the way his breathing had gone ragged and shallow against her ear.
“Vanitha,” he said, her name rough in his throat. “I’m going to... ”
His hips snapped forward one final time, and she felt him go rigid behind her. His cock pulsed inside her, thick and hot, and the first rush of cum hit her walls. His hand tightened on her throat, not squeezing but holding, and a sound came out of him that she had never heard before... low and broken, almost pained, the particular noise of a man who had stopped holding himself together.
She felt each pulse, each thick spurt of him filling her, his hips pressed flush against her ass as he emptied himself completely. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, and his hand on her throat eased into something gentler... his palm flat against her pulse, his fingers spread wide, just holding her there.
He stayed inside her while his breathing slowed, his cock still hard but softening gradually, the wet heat of him pooled deep inside her body. She could feel his heart beating against her back, rapid and strong, slowing with each breath.
Vanitha turned her face into his neck, pressing her lips against the warm skin. His pulse hammered beneath her mouth, still fast, and she kissed the spot where the vein throbbed, feeling it gradually slow.
“Say it again,” she whispered against his skin.
Selvam’s arm tightened around her waist. “You’re mine, ma. All mine.”
The words settled over her like something warm and heavy. She closed her eyes, her body still humming with the aftershocks, and let herself feel the particular weight of being held by a man who had finally, finally stopped pretending he didn’t want her.
Outside the window, the lake was dark now, the city lights reflected in the still water like scattered jewels. The suite was quiet except for their breathing, the occasional soft creak of the bed as one of them shifted, and the distant lap of water against the Zurich shore.
Selvam pulled out of her slowly, the wet sound of separation making her face flush. She felt the rush of his cum between her thighs, warm and thick, and she pressed her legs together to keep it there... to keep him inside her a little longer.
He pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her body, and she felt the particular warmth of skin against skin as he settled her against him. His cock was still half-hard against her hip, the head slick and sensitive, and she felt it twitch when she shifted closer.
“Stay,” he said. The word was quiet but certain.
Vanitha looked up at him. His face was close, his eyes dark and unfocused, his lips slightly parted. He looked wrecked in a way she had never seen... his hair disheveled from her hands, his jaw slack, the careful composure he maintained in every other context completely absent.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
His hand found her face, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, mama.” She pressed her lips to his palm, feeling the calluses against her mouth. “I’ve always been yours.”
Selvam’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she felt the scratch of his stubble against her forehead as he shifted. They lay tangled in the rumpled sheets, the rose petals crushed beneath them, the lake dark beyond the window.
Vanitha’s fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough texture of his morning stubble, and she pulled him down into a kiss. His mouth was warm and sure against hers, his tongue sliding against her lower lip, and she felt something settle in her chest... a particular warmth that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the man holding her.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.
Selvam’s throat tightened. The words hit him like a physical blow, landing somewhere beneath his sternum and spreading outward. I love you. Three words. Simple. Devastating.
For some reason, Summer’s smiling face flashed in Selvam’s mind. He had just ejaculated, and whether it was post-nut clarity or not, his thoughts lingered on Summer for the moment while his cum-filled Vanitha lay on top of him.
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