Adultery Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
 

 
Rohan’s hands found her hips, pulling her closer until her body was pressed against his, every inch of her small frame molded to the hardness of his.
 
She was so tiny, so perfectly formed, and he could feel the swell of her ass cheeks beneath his palms, soft and warm.
 
"He wanted to feel your breasts," he continued, his hand moving upward, his fingers tracing the curve of her ribcage.
 
"He wanted to know what they felt like. He dreamed about them, Latha. He dreamed about the softness of them, the warmth of them."
 
His hand cupped her breast gently through the fabric of her salwar kameez, and she gasped, her body jerking against him as if touched by electricity.
 
The breast was perfect, full and round, surprisingly heavy for her slender frame, filling his palm with a soft, yielding warmth that made his breath catch.
 
"He wanted to make you feel good," he murmured, his thumb finding her nipple through the fabric, tracing slow, deliberate circles around the sensitive peak. "Like this."
 
"Rohan Sir…"
 
She cried out softly, a high, breathless sound that was half surprise and half pleasure.
 
Her nipple was already hard, a tight little bud pressing against the fabric, and he could feel it responding to his touch with an eager, instinctive hunger.
 
"So responsive," he breathed, his voice thick with appreciation.
 
"So sensitive. Have you ever touched yourself, Latha? Have you ever imagined what it would feel like to have someone touch you like this?"
 
"Yes," she whispered, her cheeks flushing an even deeper crimson. "Sometimes. At night. When I couldn't sleep."
 
"Good." He smiled against her neck, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her pulse point. "I want you to remember this. I want you to remember what it feels like to be wanted. To be desired. To be touched by someone who knows exactly what you need."