Adultery NISHA:: A Hot Spy -Female Investigator Officer - Secret mission

[girrich9486]

Nisha’s world had narrowed to the raw, wet sounds of Vidya’s body being used.
The black cloth over her eyes did nothing to shut out the noise. Vidya’s cries rose and fell in broken waves—high, animal, almost musical in their despair. The heavy slap of hips against hips. The wet, rhythmic squelch of a thick cock driving deep into a cunt that had long since stopped trying to resist. The low, satisfied grunts of the man who owned that cock. Every few thrusts Vidya’s voice cracked into a sob that turned into a moan against her will.
Nisha’s wrists burned in the steel cuffs behind her back. Her shoulders ached from the way the two men held her upright, forcing her to stand and listen. She could smell the sex in the air—sweat, arousal, the sharp copper edge of fear. Her own body betrayed her with every breath. The thin black panty she still wore was already damp between her thighs, the fabric clinging to her shaved mound.
Tony’s voice cut through the wet soundtrack like a blade.
“You keep telling me to uncuff you, Nisha. Keep promising you’ll prove yourself. Fine. One hour. We fight. You win, you and your friend walk out of here. You lose…” He let the threat hang. “You accept?”
Nisha’s lips peeled back from her teeth. “You bastard. The second these cuffs come off I’m going to kill you.”
Tony only chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Rest first. You’ll need it.”
The black cloth was shoved over her eyes again. Strong hands lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She kicked, twisted, snarled curses in two languages, but the men only laughed and carried her down a short corridor. A door opened. Soft mattress under her back. Her arms were forced above her head and the cuffs clipped to the headboard. Ankles spread and secured to the foot of the bed. She lay spread-eagled, chest heaving, the thin blouse and short skirt she still wore doing almost nothing to cover her.
Cool air kissed the damp crotch of her panty.
One of the men spoke near her ear, voice thick with amusement. “Sir said make sure the strong lady rests properly.”
Fingers hooked into the waistband of her panty and tugged it aside. Something smooth, egg-shaped, and already buzzing pressed against the slick folds of her cunt. Nisha clenched hard, trying to deny it entry, but the man simply pushed. The first vibrator slid inside her with an obscene wet sound, nesting deep against her front wall. A second followed, seating itself lower, pressing against the first. The panty was pulled back into place, trapping both eggs inside her....










A third vibrator—larger, flatter—was settled directly over her clit and held there by the damp fabric. The remote clicked.
The eggs roared to life.
Nisha’s back arched off the mattress. A raw sound tore from her throat. The dual vibrations inside her cunt were merciless, one grinding against her G-spot, the other filling her completely. The external pad hummed against her clit in a low, relentless pulse. Pleasure slammed through her like a current. She gritted her teeth, muscles locking, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing her moan.
One of the men stayed. She felt the mattress dip beside her hip. A large, calloused hand settled on her left breast through the blouse, testing the heavy weight of it. Thirty-six, full, sensitive. He squeezed slowly, thumb finding the stiff peak of her nipple and rolling it.
“Strong woman,” he murmured. “Let’s see how long you last.”
The vibrators did not stop...















Nisha held out for almost four minutes through sheer will. Her thighs trembled. Sweat beaded between her breasts. Every breath came shorter. The hand on her breast grew bolder, sliding under the blouse, pinching and rolling the nipple until it ached. The second man returned and took her other breast the same way. Two pairs of hands now, working her tits while the eggs inside her cunt and the pad on her clit drove her higher and higher.
The first crack in her control was a broken “Hnnn—” that she couldn’t swallow.
Then another.
Then a full, helpless moan when the man on her left twisted her nipple just as the vibrators pulsed harder.
“No—fuck—stop—”
They did not stop.
Her hips began to move on their own, small, involuntary circles against the mattress, trying to escape the intensity and only grinding the external vibrator harder against her clit. The eggs inside her seemed to swell with every pulse. Wetness soaked through the panty and onto the sheets. The men laughed quietly, admiring the way her body betrayed her—the flush spreading across her chest, the way her stomach clenched, the shiny trail of arousal already visible on her inner thighs.
“Look at that,” one of them said. “Cunt’s dripping already.”
Nisha tried to snarl something back, but the only sound that left her was a high, desperate keening when the vibrations suddenly intensified. The dual eggs hammered her G-spot without mercy. The pad on her clit switched to a rapid flutter. Her entire body went rigid.
The orgasm hit like a truck.
Her back bowed so hard the cuffs bit into her wrists. A raw, broken cry ripped from her throat—part rage, part pure, unwanted ecstasy. Her cunt clamped down on the eggs in hard, rhythmic pulses, milking them as wave after wave crashed through her. The men kept their hands on her breasts the entire time, squeezing and rolling her nipples through the climax, prolonging it until her voice cracked and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes beneath the blindfold.
When it finally released her she collapsed, gasping, every muscle trembling.
They did not remove the vibrators.
The eggs kept buzzing. The pad kept humming. Within minutes the oversensitive aftershocks turned into fresh, unwanted arousal. Nisha thrashed against the restraints, cursing them, cursing Tony, cursing her own body for responding. The men took turns playing with her tits—pinching, sucking the stiff peaks through the thin blouse until the fabric was soaked, leaving dark wet circles over each nipple.
The second orgasm came harder and faster. She sobbed through it, hips jerking wildly, cunt spasming around the eggs. A gush of wetness soaked the sheets beneath her.
By the third she was almost incoherent. The blindfold was damp with tears and sweat. Her voice was hoarse from moaning and cursing. When the climax finally broke her she screamed Tony’s name like a curse and a prayer at the same time, body locked in a full-body seizure of pleasure that left her limp and shaking.
Only then did the vibrators power down.









Only then did the vibrators power down.
Silence, broken only by her ragged breathing and the distant, ongoing wet sounds of Vidya still being fucked somewhere else in the building.
They left her like that for the remainder of the hour—cuffed, blindfolded, legs spread, the two eggs still nested deep inside her spent cunt, the external pad resting against her swollen, oversensitive clit. Every small shift of her hips made the toys shift inside her, sending aftershocks through her exhausted body.
When the door finally opened again she was a wreck.
They uncuffed her slowly. Her arms fell heavy to the mattress. When they pulled the eggs out of her the wet, obscene sound made one of the men chuckle. Her panty was peeled down and discarded, leaving her bare from the waist down. The blindfold came off last.