26-08-2026, 02:27 PM
Vikram finally pulled out and sat back heavily on the daybed, chest rising and falling hard.
Sweat ran down his muscular body.
His thick cock was still hard, but his legs trembled when he tried to stand.
For the first time in years, it was not Shankar who had tired first.
It was him.
Meera’s heat, her tightness, the way her body kept responding and demanding more, had drained him faster than any woman before.
He reached for the bottle on the side table with a shaky hand and poured himself a large drink.
When he tried to stand again his knees almost gave out.
He dropped back down, breathing heavily, watching the scene in front of him with dark, exhausted eyes.
Shankar had not stopped.
He had turned Meera onto her hands and knees in the middle of the terrace.
Her full breasts hung heavily, swaying with every powerful thrust.
The emerald pendant swung beneath her like a pendulum.
Shankar’s hands gripped her soft hips hard enough to leave marks as he drove into her from behind with deep, relentless strokes.
The wet sound of his cock slamming into her soaked pussy filled the night air.
Each thrust made her ass ripple and her breasts swing forward.
Meera’s arms were shaking.
Her mouth hung open as broken, high-pitched moans spilled out of her.
“Ahh… ahh… fuck… harder…”
The pleasure was overwhelming.
Every time Shankar bottomed out, a sharp spark shot through her clit and up her spine.
Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him uncontrollably.
She could feel herself dripping down her own thighs.
In the middle of the intense rhythm her eyes flicked sideways observing what Vikram is doing.
Under the low table where the drinks and ice bucket sat, the black metal of a handgun was clearly visible, half-hidden in the shadows.
The raid should be finishing soon… Shyam should be moving… I need this to end…
But then Shankar angled his hips and slammed into a spot that made her vision blur.
A raw, helpless scream of pure pleasure tore from her throat.
“Yes… there… don’t stop… ahhh!”
Her arms gave out.
She dropped to her elbows, cheek pressed against the cool terrace floor, ass still raised high for Shankar.
He followed her down without missing a stroke, fucking her even deeper in the new angle.
Vikram watched from the daybed, drink forgotten in his hand, legs still too weak to stand.
He had never seen his younger brother last this long.
He had never seen any woman make him lose control like this.
Meera’s mind floated between two worlds.
One part still counted minutes and thought of the gun under the table.
The larger part was drowning in the relentless, wet, deep pleasure of Shankar’s cock pounding her from behind while her breasts swung and her pussy clenched around him again and again.
She screamed once more as another orgasm started building, her fingers scrabbling uselessly against the floor tiles.
Shankar’s thrusts grew erratic and deep.
Meera’s body tightened around him at the exact same moment.
They came together hard.
A raw, broken cry left Meera’s throat as her pussy clenched and pulsed around his cock in strong waves.
Shankar buried himself to the hilt and groaned loudly, emptying himself inside her with long, heavy spurts.
His arms finally gave out.
He collapsed forward, still buried inside her for a few seconds, then rolled onto his back on the daybed, completely spent.
Chest heaving.
Eyes half-closed.
For the first time that night, Shankar looked truly finished.
Meera slowly pushed herself up.
She was shaky, thighs trembling, cum slowly leaking down her inner thighs, but she stayed on her feet.
She looked down at the two exhausted brothers and gave a small, almost triumphant smile — the look of someone who had just won a long wrestling match.
Vikram, still sitting against the back of the daybed with weak legs, stared at her in open disbelief.
“You are one hell of a girl… You’re still standing after taking both of us.”
Meera wiped a strand of hair from her face. Her voice was husky but clear.
“You want more pleasure?
Sweat ran down his muscular body.
His thick cock was still hard, but his legs trembled when he tried to stand.
For the first time in years, it was not Shankar who had tired first.
It was him.
Meera’s heat, her tightness, the way her body kept responding and demanding more, had drained him faster than any woman before.
He reached for the bottle on the side table with a shaky hand and poured himself a large drink.
When he tried to stand again his knees almost gave out.
He dropped back down, breathing heavily, watching the scene in front of him with dark, exhausted eyes.
Shankar had not stopped.
He had turned Meera onto her hands and knees in the middle of the terrace.
Her full breasts hung heavily, swaying with every powerful thrust.
The emerald pendant swung beneath her like a pendulum.
Shankar’s hands gripped her soft hips hard enough to leave marks as he drove into her from behind with deep, relentless strokes.
The wet sound of his cock slamming into her soaked pussy filled the night air.
Each thrust made her ass ripple and her breasts swing forward.
Meera’s arms were shaking.
Her mouth hung open as broken, high-pitched moans spilled out of her.
“Ahh… ahh… fuck… harder…”
The pleasure was overwhelming.
Every time Shankar bottomed out, a sharp spark shot through her clit and up her spine.
Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him uncontrollably.
She could feel herself dripping down her own thighs.
In the middle of the intense rhythm her eyes flicked sideways observing what Vikram is doing.
Under the low table where the drinks and ice bucket sat, the black metal of a handgun was clearly visible, half-hidden in the shadows.
The raid should be finishing soon… Shyam should be moving… I need this to end…
But then Shankar angled his hips and slammed into a spot that made her vision blur.
A raw, helpless scream of pure pleasure tore from her throat.
“Yes… there… don’t stop… ahhh!”
Her arms gave out.
She dropped to her elbows, cheek pressed against the cool terrace floor, ass still raised high for Shankar.
He followed her down without missing a stroke, fucking her even deeper in the new angle.
Vikram watched from the daybed, drink forgotten in his hand, legs still too weak to stand.
He had never seen his younger brother last this long.
He had never seen any woman make him lose control like this.
Meera’s mind floated between two worlds.
One part still counted minutes and thought of the gun under the table.
The larger part was drowning in the relentless, wet, deep pleasure of Shankar’s cock pounding her from behind while her breasts swung and her pussy clenched around him again and again.
She screamed once more as another orgasm started building, her fingers scrabbling uselessly against the floor tiles.
Shankar’s thrusts grew erratic and deep.
Meera’s body tightened around him at the exact same moment.
They came together hard.
A raw, broken cry left Meera’s throat as her pussy clenched and pulsed around his cock in strong waves.
Shankar buried himself to the hilt and groaned loudly, emptying himself inside her with long, heavy spurts.
His arms finally gave out.
He collapsed forward, still buried inside her for a few seconds, then rolled onto his back on the daybed, completely spent.
Chest heaving.
Eyes half-closed.
For the first time that night, Shankar looked truly finished.
Meera slowly pushed herself up.
She was shaky, thighs trembling, cum slowly leaking down her inner thighs, but she stayed on her feet.
She looked down at the two exhausted brothers and gave a small, almost triumphant smile — the look of someone who had just won a long wrestling match.
Vikram, still sitting against the back of the daybed with weak legs, stared at her in open disbelief.
“You are one hell of a girl… You’re still standing after taking both of us.”
Meera wiped a strand of hair from her face. Her voice was husky but clear.
“You want more pleasure?
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