[prasannas2001]

 
He slid one long finger inside her, then another, his thumb continuing its relentless assault on her clit.
 
"You're being so good, Neetu. So helpful. You're going to make this happen, aren't you?"
 
"Yes," she moaned, her head falling back against the wall, her hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more.
 
"Yes... I'll help you."
 
He rewarded her with another searing kiss, his fingers pumping in and out of her, his touch a masterful, expert dance that pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
 
He was claiming her mouth and her body, and with every stroke, every touch, he was also claiming her loyalty, bending her to his will.
 
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive purr.
 
"Now, cum for me. Right here. Right now. Show me how much you want to help me."
 
The command was all it took.
 
With a sharp, strangled cry that she muffled against his shoulder, Neetu's world exploded.
 
Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around his fingers in a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms as a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over her.
 
He held her through it, his body a solid anchor in the storm of her orgasm, his mouth whispering dark, triumphant praises in her ear.
 
As she came back to earth, panting and trembling, he slowly withdrew his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips and licking them clean, his eyes burning into hers.
 
"Delicious," he murmured.
 
"As always."
 
He straightened her clothes, a small, satisfied smirk on his face.
 
"Now, go back out there. Act normal. And think about what you're going to tell me next time. About your beautiful, lonely mother."
 
He gave her one last, possessive kiss on the forehead and then walked away, leaving her leaning against the wall, her body humming with pleasure and her heart heavy with the weight of her betrayal.
 
She had just given him the keys to her mother's heart, and she had done it for a few moments of pleasure and a few honeyed words from a boy who saw her as nothing more than a stepping stone on his path to a far greater prize.
 
The rest of the time in their house passed pleasantly, with the conversation flowing naturally and laughter filling the room.
 
Rohan remained lively and engaged throughout, effortlessly steering discussions with his wit, thoughtful observations, and quiet confidence.
 
Every chance he got, he found a way to draw Mamta into the conversation, hoping to leave a lasting impression without making his intentions too obvious.
 
Judging by the interest she showed and the genuine appreciation in her responses, his efforts had not gone unnoticed.
 
By the end of the night, he could allow himself a small, satisfied smile.
 
He had set out with a simple goal, to catch Mamta's attention and earn her admiration and by all appearances, he had succeeded.