Adultery A Corporate Mallu Wife Owned in the Studio

[Maaran57]

Chapter 16 – Unveiled

The tension had become unbearable.
Maaran’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs. His breath stayed hot and heavy against the soaked fabric. Aadhini’s hips lifted in small, pleading movements, trembling. She knew what was coming. The locked door, the long minutes of him breathing her in, the way her body had already opened for him — all of it had led here. The last thin barrier was still between his mouth and her, and she no longer had the strength to protect it.
He hooked two fingers under the wet edge of her panties and drew the cloth slowly aside.
Cool air touched her bare pussy.
For a moment he only stared.
She was smoothly shaved. Soft pink lips swollen and shining, coated in thick wetness that had already turned creamy in places. A heavy drop slipped from her entrance and trailed downward. The sight of his darker, bearded face so close to that smooth, open flesh hit him hard. His cock throbbed painfully against his trousers.
Aadhini gasped as the air reached her. Her inner walls clenched, pushing out another thick bead of wetness. Knowing his eyes were on her — bare, dripping, fully exposed — sent a sharp pulse through her clit. Shame flickered once, thin and useless. Then it drowned under the heavier need.
He groaned, rough and broken. He leaned in and let his open mouth hover just above her, breathing hard across her wet folds. The heat of his breath and the nearness of his coarse beard made her thighs jerk.
Then he closed the last inch.
His mouth sealed over her completely.
“Ahh—!”
The cry left her at once. The first broad stroke of his tongue dragged slowly from her dripping entrance all the way up through her slick lips to her swollen clit. He pressed firmly, gathering the thick wetness, and swallowed. A deep, hungry sound vibrated against her. He licked her again, slower, deeper, letting his tongue sink between her folds and drag upward with deliberate pressure.
“Oh… oh God—”
Her back arched hard. One hand shot into his hair and gripped tight. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue spreading her open was overwhelming. Every slow drag sent fresh heat rolling through her belly. She could feel how wet she was — the way her own slick coated his tongue, the soft filthy sound it made as he licked through it. The coarse scbang of his beard against her smooth, sensitive skin added a sharp, electric friction that made her hips twitch.
He did not ease up.
He ate her with full, open hunger — long greedy strokes that covered everything, firm suction on her soft lips, rapid flicks against her clit, then the thick push of his tongue inside her. The wet, obscene sounds filled the studio: soft shluck of tongue through slick folds, the wet seal of his mouth, the faint filthy noise when he pushed deeper. Her thighs trembled hard against his head.
“Ah… ah… yes—”
The sounds kept breaking out of her. She could not stop them. His tongue was inside her now, thick and strong, pushing deep, curling, stroking her walls. The dual sensation of being licked so thoroughly while his rough beard scbangd her shaved skin made her thighs shake harder. Creamy fluid coated his tongue, his lips, his chin, the upper edge of his beard. He groaned into her and kept going, messier, more desperate.
Her hips began to move against his mouth on their own — small rolls at first, then stronger, grinding her soaked pussy into his face. Her bare breasts trembled with every uneven breath. The gold hip chain and mangalsutra shivered on her skin. Every upward roll of her hips fed more of her wetness into his mouth. He took it.
“Don’t stop… ah— please—”
He pulled back only long enough to hook his fingers into the waistband of her panties and yank them down her legs, throwing them aside. Then both hands gripped her thighs and pushed her knees higher and wider, opening her fully.
She was completely bare now — smooth, swollen, glistening, dripping.
He returned with a low, feral sound and buried his mouth in her again. This time his tongue thrust deep, fucking into her in strong, rhythmic strokes while his lips worked her clit. He curled inside her, stroked her walls, withdrew only to suck hard on the swollen bud, then plunged back in. The wet noises grew louder, thicker, obscenely rhythmic. His beard was soaked and shining. The scent of her arousal filled the space between them, heavy and unmistakable.
“Ahhh—! Oh fuck… oh—”
Her moans turned sharp and broken. Both hands were in his hair now, holding him there. Her hips rolled freely, shamelessly, fucking herself against his tongue. Every new thrust of his tongue dragged another helpless sound from her throat. The heat between her legs had become a single, pounding ache. Her clit throbbed hard against his mouth. More wetness kept spilling out of her, and he licked it up as fast as it came.
She could feel herself opening wider for him, growing even wetter, the pleasure climbing in heavy, relentless waves. The scbang of his beard, the deep push of his tongue, the wet seal of his mouth — it was too much and not enough at the same time. Her body had stopped belonging to the careful woman who had entered the studio. It belonged to the mouth that was eating her.
“Yes… yes… right there— ah—”
He stayed on her.
He licked and sucked and tongue-fucked her with relentless hunger, as if the rest of the world had disappeared and only the taste and heat of her pussy remained. Her thighs clamped and released around his head. Her back arched. Her fingers tightened in his hair hard enough to hurt. She was no longer trying to stay quiet. She was no longer trying to stay composed.
Her body had already given up every defence.
She was open, shaking, crying out, and completely his mouth’s.