[Zoz34]

Hi ,zoz here ,I tried to include a different narrative style to the Story.
Hope you will enjoy it ,it is the follow up envent after Vishal and Afrah's last kissing encounter.


3 days later


Sohail pov:

Sohail’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented. His head throbbed, a dull, pulsing ache that blurred his vision. Where…where was he? Shadows danced across the ceiling, faint shapes, and muffled sounds. His mind struggled to make sense of it, and then…there was a sound—soft, breathless, unmistakable. A woman’s moan pierced the fog, floating through the air with every subtle movement, each sigh growing louder, more urgent.

“Ahhh...God...yes…”

The sound echoed, mingling with a soft, rhythmic thumping. He blinked, fighting to focus his gaze, each breath feeling heavier than the last. In the dim light, he could make out two bodies, tightly pressed together, moving with an unrestrained, carnal rhythm. His stomach twisted as he tried to push himself up, but his limbs felt weak, betraying him. The room tilted, his vision blurring, but he could see enough—a figure moving above, muscles flexing with each deep thrust. The silhouette leaned in close, shadowed against the dim light, blocking his view of the woman beneath. Her body writhed beneath him, fingers digging into his shoulders, her face just out of reach, hidden in darkness but alive with gasps and moans that filled the air, leaving no doubt as to what was happening.


Vishal's face flashed in his mind, and an icy dread spread through his veins. No…no, it couldn’t be. He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust, but his sight remained frustratingly blurred, the details just out of reach. All he could see was the outline of two bodies, a fevered tangle of limbs and shadows.

Pain tore through his chest, sharper than any physical ache, a raw, twisting agony. His heart clenched as the woman beneath whimpered, her voice desperate, pleading. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but his voice felt trapped in his throat. He tried to rise, to pull himself out of this nightmare, but his legs buckled, and he crumpled back down, helpless.

As darkness swallowed him again, the last thing he heard was that steady rhythm, haunting him, echoing in his mind as his eyes drifted shut.



Sohail’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding like a drumbeat as he came to in the dim, unfamiliar room. Every inch of him ached, and his mouth felt like sandpaper. He groaned, running a shaky hand over his face, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing he clearly remembered was the party, a heavy haze of drinks and laughter blurring together, his boss introducing Vishal, describing him as a “close friend and business associate.”

Fragments flashed before him—faces, clinking glasses, voices merging into a dull hum. Then…a muffled sound, a woman's moan. His heart clenched as he fought to focus, the memory slipping just out of reach. He forced himself to sit up, blinking against the disorienting fog clouding his mind. His stomach twisted as his gaze fell on the empty bed across from him, its sheets tangled and disheveled as though someone had been there, leaving behind only a hint of warmth.

He tried to recall more, but all he could grasp were fragments—flashes of bodies moving, soft murmurs, the brush of skin. Had he imagined it?



His head throbbed as he leaned forward, gripping it tightly, trying to piece together fragments that felt as slippery as oil. Everything blurred, jagged images twisting, teasing him with half-formed shapes and sounds. Two bodies, locked together, moving in that unbearable rhythm. A familiar moan slipping through the haze, low and soft, like something lodged deep in his memory.

The man… was it Vishal? He thought he knew, but the thought twisted, muddied. He wanted to be certain, but in this foggy state, could he trust anything he remembered? And the woman’s voice—so familiar it felt like a knife pressing in. Did he hear her say something? The words floated up, half-formed, slipping back into shadows.

“What if he wakes up?” Was it really her voice? And then another—Vishal’s, or was that just his fear speaking? “He’s a pussy. He won’t do a thing.”

A wave of nausea rolled over him as doubt crawled through his mind, gripping, twisting, whispering. Was it real? Or was his own mind laughing at him, feeding on his deepest fears? He closed his eyes, but the sounds, the images—they wouldn’t let him rest, wouldn’t let him breathe.


Sohail’s heart raced, the memories swirling chaotically in his mind as he fought to piece together the night. His head spun, the pain a constant reminder of the fog clouding his thoughts. But then, as if surfacing from the depths of a nightmare, an image forced its way through the chaos: Afrah. Her body, soft and yielding, wrapped beneath Vishal’s weight, the way her skin glistened under the dim light. He could almost see the curve of her waist, the arch of her back as she surrendered to the rhythm of desire. 

The sheer thought of it sent a shiver through him, a chill that crept down his spine, tightening like a noose. No, it can’t be. She wasn’t at the party—he was sure of that. But doubt seeped in like poison, gnawing at his resolve. Had it been real, or just a cruel figment of his imagination? 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the vision to dissipate, but it clung on, vivid and tormenting. The sound of her breathy moans intertwined with the memory of her laughter, haunting him. What if it was true? 


Sohail stumbled back from the bed, his heart racing as he glanced at the stained sheets. The unmistakable evidence of sex lay before him, and the reality hit him like a slap across the face. His thoughts raced in frantic circles. It couldn't be Afrah, could it? She wasn’t at the party; he was sure. Yet the disarray of the room and the stains left behind painted a sordid picture that gnawed at him.

Desperation clawed at him. He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking as he dialed her number. The ringing felt like an eternity. Finally, she picked up.

“Where are you?”he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady, the urgency creeping in.

“At home,” Afrah replied. In the background, he could hear her mother’s voice.

Without waiting for a response, he hung up, a storm of emotions swirling inside him. Home. The word echoed in his mind, but it provided no comfort. He felt lost, teetering on the brink of insanity. 

He tried to recall every detail, every conversation, every moment from the party, but it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand and he cursed himself for drinking so much. 


Sohail spent the day haunted by fragments of the previous night. Images from his boss’s estate—the maze of polished floors, dim rooms, and the tangle of bodies he’d glimpsed—flashed through his mind, refusing to settle. Waking disoriented in a guest room, he’d left in the harsh light of morning, hoping distance would bring clarity. 



Sohail's mind raced, tangled with thoughts that seemed to have no clear answer. He wanted to call Afrah, to hear her voice, to somehow confirm that his suspicions were just the product of a fractured memory and too many drinks. But what could he even ask her? "Were you at my boss's party… with Vishal?" The question sounded absurd even in his own head. He’d remember if she’d been there—he was sure of it, wasn’t he? Yet every time he tried to piece together the night, it blurred at the edges.

He recalled his boss introducing Vishal, talking about their new project together. He could still hear the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of laughter around them. But nothing about Afrah. He was sure she hadn’t been there. And yet…

Maybe John could help. John was one of the few faces he remembered seeing more than once during the evening, always appearing with a fresh drink in hand. Perhaps he’d know how Sohail ended up in that guest room. His boss had assured him that he’d only had a bit too much to drink, but Sohail couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.


As Sohail sat across from John during their lunch break, he tried to keep his tone casual, but the question had been eating away at him. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he began, leaning in slightly. “Do you know how I ended up in the guest room at the boss's place?”

John shrugged, his face blank. “No idea, man. One minute you were there, enjoying yourself like the rest of us—eating, drinking. Next, you must’ve wandered off. Happens.”

“Anything out of place?” Sohail pressed, hoping for some clue to clear the fog in his mind.

“Nothing that I recall,”John replied, looking thoughtful for a moment. “It was a party, you know? Everyone was pretty much just there to have a good time.”

Sohail hesitated, trying to piece together fragments of the night. “Do you remember the boss introducing us to that guy, Vishal Khattar, from Zin Company?”

“Oh, yeah. Vishal,”John nodded, a smirk crossing his face. “That guy’s a total stud. I actually saw him later that night. He was over in the corner with some woman, real bombshell. She had this killer figure, and they were all over each other—kissing, groping, like they were in their own world.”

Sohail's heart sank, a chill running through him as he tried to picture it. He fought the urge to ask more, his mind already jumping to unwelcome conclusions. Was that the woman he'd thought he'd heard? And was he just imagining, or had there really been something familiar about her voice

Sohail tried to keep his expression neutral, forcing a casual tone. “What exactly were they doing? And… you couldn’t tell who she was?"

John grinned, leaning in with a knowing look. “Nah, couldn’t see her face. But she was in this red saree—absolutely stunning, man. Perfect figure, toned in all the right places.” He chuckled. “Not too small, not too big, just… perfect. And Vishal, that lucky bastard, was all over her. His hands weren’t leaving her, I’ll tell you that much. I’d put my money on him getting lucky that night.”

Before Sohail could ask more, their conversation was interrupted by a colleague stopping by their table, breaking the tension. As the chatter resumed around him, Sohail excused himself, his thoughts darkening as he walked away.

The sinking feeling in his chest only deepened. The details played over and over in his mind: the red saree, Vishal’s hands on her, his own foggy memories of waking up alone in the guest room. Was it real? Or had he dreamt it all in some drunken haze? He couldn’t shake the nagging dread that clawed at him, or the question that kept echoing in his mind: who was the woman? And why did he feel so certain that he’d heard her voice before? Afrah? No, it couldn’t have been her—she hadn’t been at the party, he was almost certain of that.


It was maddening, trying to sift truth from dream, reality from illusion. 

Next day Afrah home:


Sohail sat on the couch, nodding and responding politely as Afrah’s family engaged him in small talk. But his mind was elsewhere, churning with images he wished he could erase. Every now and then, he glanced over at Afrah, taking in the sway of her hips as she moved about the room. 

When she got up to go to the kitchen, his gaze drifted, drawn helplessly to the soft curve of her figure in the fitted salwar suit. The fabric clung gently to her as she walked, accentuating the roundness of her backside. It was almost instinctual, the way his mind wandered back to John’s words, the description of that mystery woman in the red saree. Vishal’s hands, shamelessly groping, pressing into the fabric, pulling her close as if he owned her.

A rush of heat and jealousy hit him. "What would Afrah look like in that saree, the rich red dbangd over her curves, the fabric tracing every line of her figure, hugging her waist, that perfect curve of her hips…" His chest tightened as he imagined it, an image that was almost painful in its allure.
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But then she was back, her footsteps light as she approached with a tray in hand. Her gentle voice and smile jolted him back to reality, grounding him. He forced himself to meet her gaze, taking the food she’d brought, as he struggled to bury the thoughts that had been threatening to consume him.


All these scattered pieces weighed heavily on Sohail’s mind—her sudden Goa trip, the hazy dream at his boss's party, Vishal, and that red saree-clad woman who lingered at the edge of his memory like a haunting. It was as if every little thing was pointing toward something hidden just out of his reach, each memory twisting his gut tighter.

He wanted answers, but how could he even begin? The idea of spying on her was tempting, gnawing at the back of his mind. Maybe if he watched her closely, he could catch a hint of truth in her actions, something to confirm—or deny—his suspicions. But would she ever give anything away so easily? 

Did Afrah even own a saree? He’d only ever seen her in salwar suits, casual and elegant, always modest. Yet the thought of her in a saree—one like that vivid red number from his dreams—stirred something conflicting within him. How would she look wrapped in silk, with the fabric clinging to her figure in all the right places? Would she wear one like that for him? Or for
 someone else?


Sohail’s phone buzzed, snapping him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and felt his breath hitch—it was a picture, close-up and risque framed, of a woman’s waist adorned with a delicate silver chain. The soft curve of her waist dipped into the low waistband of tight denim shorts, her thighs thick and toned, just visible at the edge of the shot. It was mesmerizing, undeniably sensual, and his pulse quickened as he stared. 
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For a moment, he simply absorbed the image, a familiar heat building within him. But then, another message flashed beneath the photo: “Bet you haven’t seen her like this.”

Confusion clouded his mind. What was this? Who sent it? He scanned the number, unregistered in his contacts. And then it hit him like a storm—a hazy memory flooding back. The short denim, the silver glint of that chain... hadn’t he seen something like it before?

His heart hammered as realization dawned. A reflection. The photo Vishal had posted that night, a faint reflection in the glass of the yatch. Was this her? Was this… Afrah? 

No. He pushed the thought away, but the doubt lingered, gnawing at his mind.


The possibility clawed at him, making it hard to breathe. His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the photo, his mind cycling through memories, reaching for any reassurance that might calm the storm within him. 'Had she worn something like that before? No, Afrah was usually modest, careful. But this? This felt like an invitation to doubt everything he thought he knew.

Another message lit up on the screen, just a single line: “Don’t you wish you’d seen her like this first?”

The words burned, fueling his turmoil, and his mind reeled with fragments of that night. Vishal’s smirk, the laughter echoing in his head, John’s words about a woman in red… every detail seemed to taunt him now, weaving into an unsettling picture he didn’t want to believe. "Had it all been in front of him the whole time?" He wanted to shake the thought away, to believe in her, to trust her. But this seed of suspicion, once planted, was taking root fast.

The image wouldn’t leave his mind—Afrah, wrapped in that chain, walking sexly maybe caught in a moment he was never meant to see. His heart ached, and the jealousy tasted bitter, laced with his deepest fears. He didn’t know what to think anymore, only that he couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in.



He shook his head, trying to dismiss it as a mistake. 'Someone probably sent it to the wrong number. Or maybe it was just a prank,' he told himself, but the sinking feeling wouldn’t leave him. He glanced up from his phone, and there she was—Afrah, sitting across the room in her modest salwar kameez, laughing softly with his mother. Her hair was neatly pinned, her manner sweet and respectful, not a hint of anything out of place. "How could that image—so raw, so revealing—belong to her?"

Yet, despite himself, his mind betrayed him, flashing back to that photo. The curve of the waist, the glint of the chain—it all felt too familiar. He glanced back at her, noticing the soft lines of her figure under her clothing. No, she wouldn’t wear something like that, he reminded himself. She was never one for racy clothes, let alone anything that provocative. And yet, the thought festered, clawing at his certainty. 

A flicker of doubt crept into his mind. Could she really be so different around others , with Vishal ? He scolded himself for even thinking it, feeling a pang of guilt, but it was as if the image had planted a seed—a haunting curiosity he couldn’t quite shake.

He glanced down at the photo again, his mind running wild despite his better judgment. Even as he tried to brush it off, the image had taken root, twisting his thoughts in directions he hadn’t dared consider before. He could almost see Afrah in his mind—Afrah, with that same silver waist chain glinting against her skin, denim shorts hugging her curves, thighs firm and inviting, a crop top just barely brushing the curve of her waist. The thought stirred something in him, a mix of anger and longing he didn’t want to acknowledge.
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"Should he ask her? But what would he even say?"He’d sound insane asking her if it was her in that picture, or pressing her about some cryptic message. And yet, with each passing moment, the quiet, nagging thought grew louder, daring him to confront her, to pry into things he’d tried to ignore.


In the balcony after :

Sohail leaned on the balcony railing, feigning interest in the view but keeping his eyes on Afrah. “The party at my boss’s place was grand, you know?” he said casually, his tone light. “Big-shot businessmen, politicians, everyone was there. Even Vishal—your boss—came with some lady. Must be his girlfriend or wife.”

Afrah blinked, the slightest flicker in her expression before she masked it with a calm face. “Oh?” she replied nonchalantly, barely glancing his way. “He isn’t married.”

“Yeah,” Sohail said, watching her carefully. “Then she must’ve been his girlfriend.” He paused, weighing his next words. “It was… quite a night. If I’d known, maybe I would’ve taken you along too.”

Afrah looked up, her tone steady. “I don’t really like going to parties, especially ones for your bosses.”

He nodded, feeling a small tension as he pressed, “I know, still, it’s good to go out sometimes.” He hesitated, trying to sound casual. “So, what were you up to that night?”

She met his gaze with an easy smile. “I was out with Hina. She wanted to go shopping, and then we grabbed coffee.”

“With Hina, huh?” he repeated, forcing a chuckle to cover the pang of unease creeping up.

She gave him another calm smile, like everything was perfectly normal. But in Sohail’s mind, questions churned. 'Was she really with Hina?' His mind wavered, telling himself she was telling the truth—he hadn’t seen her at the party, after all. And John had said it was just some lady with Vishal, maybe someone else entirely.

But even as he clung to these reassurances, fragments of that hazy evening kept flashing in his mind—the foggy image of two figures entwined, the woman’s voice, Vishal’s face. He clenched the railing, holding back the questions spiraling inside him. Yet the doubt lingered, gnawing persistently, leaving a bitterness he couldn’t shake.

As he watch Afrah went in ,Sohail tried to force clarity from the jumble of memories, flashes of that night slipping through his mind like half-formed shadows. He remembered standing with Vishal, leaning against the bar as the crowd buzzed around them. The dim lights had flickered overhead, casting an erratic glow, making everything feel disorienting.

“Afrah’s a good homely girl,” Sohail had asserted, trying to defend her against the unspoken implications lingering in the air.

Vishal hadn’t answered immediately. Instead, he had merely smirked, his eyes glinting with something darker. “Good girls have a way of surprising you,” he had said casually, leaning closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Especially when they’ve got someone that would bring their bad side .” 

Sohail’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Vishal had taken a slow sip of his drink, his gaze lingering on the crowd, before turning back to Sohail with a teasing glint. 

The memory unraveled, slipping into a new scene—back in that dim room, the bed rumpled beside him. The haze of alcohol clouded his mind as he tried to recall the sound of a woman’s low moan that had filled the dark. Then, a name—Vishal's name, gasped out in a breathy whisper: “Ahhh, Vishal! Oh god, you’re so big…”

"Was it Afrah’s voice?"

He didn’t know, couldn’t be sure. His mind twisted the moments together, placing her in a scenario where she hadn’t been. She’d said she was out with Hina, hadn’t she? Shopping, grabbing coffee…

Clutching the edge of the balcony, he fought against the rising tide of suspicion. Inside, Afrah talked softly with his mother, her alibi as solid as the walls around them. He knew she’d been out; he "knew" she wasn’t there—right?

But the memory refused to fade. The moan, the whisper of Vishal’s name, that twisted grin of his friend—everything felt like a disorienting nightmare blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.

"Was it really her? If not her… then who?"

His heart raced, caught in the grip of uncertainty. He felt torn between confronting her with what little he thought he knew and the fear of unearthing truths he wasn’t ready to face—or worse, realizing he had been chasing shadows of his own making.

Just as he turned to walk back inside, his phone buzzed again, a jarring sound that shattered his thoughts. He glanced down, dread pooling in his stomach as the screen lit up with another message from that unknown number. 

"Wait until you see the real her. 
More surprises to come"




.

[Zoz34]

While this one is a different perspective, it is mostly inside Sohail's head! The real tease comes from Arfah's perspective which makes this story stand out. Don't loose that track - that's your best bet! Keep regular updates coming...

Thank you for your input , surely I will work on it.And I hope you will like the next update.

[Zoz34]

this one is good but the perspective of arfah and vishal is the best so this one is not match that moreover if afrah gonna cuck sohail then its good to go in the perspective of afrah

Thank you for your input.

[Zoz34]

Afrah pov:

Afrah exhaled slowly, relief washing over her. "That was close." Sohail hadn’t pieced it all together. He hadn’t seen her at the party that night, but she could feel his suspicion lingering. She knew it was risky with Vishal . But she couldn’t deny the thrill that lingered, an electrifying memory of that night still vivid in her mind.

The party night2 days ago)

Afrah pov:

It had started innocently enough. She’d been out with Nida, picking through clothes at a small boutique when her phone had buzzed. "Vishal."

Vishal:"Where are you?” 

“I’m shopping,” she’d replied.

“Good,” he’d said . “Pick out something sexy. Meet me at the parking lot in an hour. We’re going to a party.”

“Vishal, I can’t,” she’d said, casting a glance at Nida. “I’m busy—and I’m with Nida my friend.”

“But you’re my girlfriend, remember?” he’d teased.

She’d rolled her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm. “Your pretend "girlfriend.”

But he’d only laughed, brushing past her objections with that effortless persuasion he always seemed to wield. Within moments, he’d convinced her.

Afrah had turned to Nida, offering an apologetic smile. “I just got an important call—I have to go,” she’d lied.

Nida had nodded. “No problem. I’ll head home too. Let’s catch up tomorrow?”

They stepped outside together, parting with a quick hug before Nida flagged down an auto and disappeared into the evening. The moment her friend was gone, Afrah felt the thrill of secrecy flood through her. Instead of heading home, she turned back into the mall, heart pounding as she made her way to a boutique she’d noticed earlier.

The red chiffon saree caught her eye instantly—vibrant, bold, and nothing like the modest outfits she wore around her family. She slipped into the fitting room, dbanging the fabric over herself, feeling its sheer elegance flow across her curves, the rich red contrasting with her skin in a way that made
 her feel undeniably daring.


Afrah stepped out into the parking lot, feeling the cool night air brush against her exposed skin. She could feel Vishal’s eyes on her immediately, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe, lingering on every curve the saree so boldly displayed. Each step she took was deliberate, her hips swaying just enough to let the soft chiffon ripple over her body, clinging to her form before flowing down like liquid fire.

The saree’s fabric glimpses of her toned waist . The low-cut blouse was daringly close to slipping, its slender straps accentuating the smooth line of her shoulders as she walked toward him with a sultry confidence. 

She met his gaze, a faint smirk on her lips, knowing that he was enchanted . Vishal’s eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her, his attention locked on her as she closed the distance between them.


As Afrah stopped just in front of him, Vishal’s lips curled into a slow, appreciative smirk. His eyes roamed over her, lingering, before meeting her gaze with a glint of mischief.



He reached out, fingers grazing the edge of her pallu, and added, “I’m beginning to think you chose that shade of red just for me. Trying to test my patience, are you?”

She felt his eyes drop to her waist to her exposed bare skin.Vishal leaned in just slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, “Or maybe you’re trying to drive me mad, hm? Because if that was your plan… it’s working.”


Afrah smirked, tilting her head as she met his gaze with a playful glint. “Oh, I just wanted to look good for my pretend boyfriend,” she said, her tone dripping with mock innocence, one eyebrow arched as she let her fingers toy with the edge of her pallu.

Vishal’s smirk widened, his eyes flickering with amusement as he stepped just a little closer. “Pretend or not,” he murmured, his gaze intense, “you’re setting a dangerously high standard for ‘just looking good,’ Afrah.” He let his eyes linger again, making sure she noticed. “Makes me wonder… just how far you’re willing to go to keep up this little act of ours.”


As Afrah entered the party on Vishal’s arm, her eyes caught a familiar face across the room—a striking woman with an air of confidence, watching her closely. Afrah didn’t know her name, but she recognized her immediately. That woman. She remembered catching her and Vishal in a passionate kiss at the mall parking lot during their first encounter, a scene that had stirred a pang of jealousy she hadn't fully understood at the time. 

Tonight, though, it was different. Tanya’s smile was polite, almost sweet, but her narrowed eyes and tense posture betrayed her displeasure. Afrah felt the silent challenge in her gaze, the unspoken message that she wasn’t welcome, that her presence beside Vishal was a threat. 

But Afrah didn’t back down. She kept her arm intertwined with Vishal’s, her expression unruffled as she met Tanya’s stare with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile of her own.


Afrah’s heart raced as Tanya approached, her confident strides echoing a mix of hostility and intrigue. “So, this must be your new catch,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of jealousy as her gaze flicked between Afrah and Vishal. 

Vishal flashed a disarming smile, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air. “Afrah, this is Tanya. Tanya, this is Afrah.” 

Afrah met Tanya’s gaze head-on, refusing to look away, determined to hold her ground. 

Tanya’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Afrah. I hope Vishal is treating you well.” Her tone was light, but the underlying challenge was unmistakable. 

“Of course he is,” Afrah replied smoothly, her confidence rising. “He’s a great guy.” She couldn’t resist the slight edge in her voice, knowing how it must irk Tanya. 

Vishal chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, ladies, let’s enjoy the night.” But Afrah could sense the subtle battle unfolding, each woman vying for Vishal’s attention, each wanting to assert her place beside him. 

As the party continued around them, Afrah’s pulse quickened. She was in this game now, and she wasn’t about to back down. Tanya might have history with Vishal, but tonight, she intended to make her mark.


Afrah watched Tanya as she sauntered closer, her presence commanding attention. The way Tanya wore her skin-tight dress, hugging every curve ,accentuating her figure in all the right places.

With a coy smile, Tanya lifted her wine glass to her lips "You know,” she said, her voice dripping with honeyed allure, “it’s always a pleasure to see someone like you at these gatherings. You bring such... excitement.” Her gaze held his, challenging Afrah in a way that made her blood boil.

Afrah felt a knot form in her stomach, the way Tanya bit her lip, drawing attention to her glossy pout, was infuriating. Every movement was designed to ensnare Vishal's gaze, and she was succeeding. It was a performance, and Afrah was unwillingly part of the audience.

Tanya leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “You must tell me about your adventures with Vishal. I can only imagine the fun you two have together.” The words were laced with implication, and Afrah could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay composed. This isn’t a competition, she reminded herself, but deep down, she knew it was. Tanya was making her move, and Afrah would have to step up her game if she wanted to keep Vishal's attention. 

With a tight smile, Afrah responded, “Oh, we have our moments.” The words slipped out smoother than she felt, but she could see Vishal’s interest piquing, a flicker of something in his eyes as he looked between them. 'No way was she letting Tanya win this battle.'

Afrah’s gaze was drawn to Tanya as she shifted slightly, the slit of her dress riding up, revealing a glimpse tonned thigh. The movement was effortless, and it was clear Tanya was fully aware of the effect it had. Every inch of her was crafted to seduce, a weaponized allure that made Afrah’s heart race with a mix of jealousy and determination.

With a seductive smile, Tanya leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry as she directed her words toward Vishal. “You are looking so fine in this suit,” she said, her tone dripping with flirtation. 

Afrah’s stomach churned at the invitation, the way Tanya’s words seemed to weave a spell around Vishal, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Afrah could almost see the wheels turning in his head, caught between the familiar warmth of her company and the dangerous allure of Tanya.

Tanya’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and she took a step closer, her body almost brushing against Vishal's as she laughed softly. 



The charged atmosphere shattered with the sudden arrival of Tanya’s husband. He strolled toward them with a wide, friendly grin, completely oblivious to the heated undercurrent between his wife and Vishal. Unaware of the affair they’d once shared—or the flirtatious spark still lingering in Tanya’s gaze—he greeted them warmly, his presence a stark contrast to the intensity that had filled the air just moments before.

“Vishal! Great to see you!” he exclaimed, extending his hand for a firm shake." And who is this lovely lady?"

Vishal introduced her.“Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the swirl of emotions. She watched as Tanya’s demeanor shifted effortlessly from sultry seductress to the devoted wife, a role she played well, yet Afrah sensed the facade.

“Just wanted to say hi before we head to the ...,” Tanya’s husband continued, his attention momentarily drifting back to his wife. “You know how she is when it comes to parties—she loves to mingle.”

Tanya shot a sly look at Vishal, her smile sharp as she leaned in closer to her husband, whispering something that only he could hear. The way she swayed her hips as she turned to leave was almost hypnotic, and Afrah couldn’t help but feel a sting of envy. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a teasing challenge. 

“Don’t miss me too much,” she cooed, her voice dripping with seduction as she glanced back at Vishal. The words hung in the air, an invitation laced with mischief that made Afrah’s pulse quicken. It was as if Tanya was deliberately flaunting her allure, leaving a lingering promise behind as she walked away.

Afrah crossed her arms, a hint of jealousy creeping into her voice. “You were enjoying that, weren’t you? It’s quite the show you’ve got going on.”

Vishal raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “What can I say? Tanya has a way of turning heads.”

“You’re such an evil man, seducing a married woman,” Afrah shot back, her tone feigning disapproval but laced with an undercurrent of challenge.

“And I’m now trying to seduce you, who is engaged,” Vishal replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Afrah couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “And you will not succeed,” she asserted, trying to sound confident even as butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

“Oh, I’m halfway successful,” he countered, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Remember, you’re my date tonight, my sexy girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend,” Afrah corrected, but the words felt less convincing as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

Vishal chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Ah, but what’s a pretend girlfriend without a little bit of real chemistry?” His gaze held hers.

She blush and turn.Afrah felt a thrill course through her as she turned away from Vishal, letting the rhythm of the music take over. Her hips swayed slowly, deliberately, each movement accentuated by the flow of her saree against her ass. She knew Vishal's gaze was fixed on her, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of her backless blouse that clung by delicate thin straps, exposing the smooth expanse of her fair skin. The cool air brushed against her bare back, adding a delicious shiver to her already heightened senses.

“Let’s get some drinks,” she called over her shoulder, her voice carrying a playful challenge, daring him to follow. As she made her way to the bar, she felt the subtle weight of other eyes on her, lingering with admiration, but her own gaze was drawn only to him. She knew every step, every glance, was only for Vishal, and that thought alone made her pulse race even faster.

At the counter, she ordered a cocktail, glancing back at him with a sultry smile. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice low and inviting.

As she waited for the bartender to prepare her drink, she picked up her glass, letting her tongue tease the rim before slowly licking it, leaving a trail of her lipstick behind. She turned to Vishal, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and raised the glass to her lips, giving it a playful kiss.

“Care for a taste?” she offered, holding the glass out to him, the lingering marks of her lips a tantalizing invitation. 

Vishal’s gaze dropped to the glass, then back to her, a grin spreading across his face. “someone is getting a little bold,” he said, taking the glass from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shiver of excitement coursing through her.

Afrah leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as she teased, “Just don’t want my boyfriend roaming around with married women.” She smirked playfully, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Can’t have you getting distracted, can we?”


Vishal pov:


Vishal likes that she is getting bold 

Just moments ago, as Afrah walked ahead of him, her movements were nothing short of a mesmerizing dance. The red saree clung to her body like molten silk, hugging every curve, wrapping around her hips in a way that highlighted their perfect, rounded shape. Each step she took set her hips in motion—a slow, deliberate sway that made them lift and dip in a sensual rhythm, as though her body moved to music only she could hear. The fabric flowed like liquid over her skin, accentuating the shape of her toned, wide hips, making them appear almost hypnotic, drawing his gaze with an unbreakable pull.  


[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Her blouse was barely there, its daringly low back exposing the smooth expanse of her bare skin, a vision of flawless beauty against the bold red of her attire. Held together by only a single, delicate strap at the top, the blouse left her back almost entirely exposed, her skin glowing under the soft lights, casting a radiant warmth that seemed to pulse with each step she took. Vishal’s eyes trailed over every inch of her bare back, following the gentle curve of her spine down to where the saree hugged her waist, teasing a glimpse of her soft, inviting skin beneath. 

Her hips moved like a pendulum, an enchanting sway that was as teasing as it was graceful. Every subtle lift and dip felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly the effect her movements were having on him. Her back arched just slightly, the thin strap of her blouse accentuating the curve of her shoulders, adding a bold allure to her delicate form. The air between them thickened, charged with an intensity that was both electric and undeniable, and Vishal found himself utterly captivated, unable to look away, completely lost in the seductive spell she wove with each step she took.







She looked utterly irresistible tonight, radiating confidence and a hint of mischief, and he couldn't help but enjoy the subtle possessiveness she seemed to feel after the run-in with Tanya. It had only fueled her competitive side, and he was more than entertained by the silent back-and-forth between them.


As he sipped his drink, he noticed her watching him, her lips parted in a playful smirk, her teeth sinking teasingly into her full, red lips. She didn’t miss a beat as he raised his eyebrow. "You aren’t having a drink?" he asked, his tone lightly teasing.

Without a word, she reached over, took his glass from his hand, and brought it to her lips. Her gaze held his as she took a slow, deliberate sip, the movement sultry and calculated. She left a mark of her red lipstick on the rim, her eyes glinting with a spark of challenge as she handed it back to him.

"Your turn," she murmu
red, voice low and daring, the lingering imprint of her lips a silent invitation he couldn’t ignore.








As they stood there, Afrah’s fingers drifted to her saree, and with a subtle, practiced movement, she adjusted the dbang, causing the delicate fabric to fall away just enough to reveal her smooth, inviting navel. Her fingertips lingered against her bare waist, tracing a slow, almost absent-minded line along the soft curve of her skin. The cool air kissed the exposed skin, accentuating the gentle dip of her navel and the alluring lines of her toned midriff. 

[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Vishal’s eyes darkened as he watched her, mesmerized by the way her hand moved, gliding slowly over the fabric and then brushing against her bare skin, drawing attention to the seductive curve of her waist. The saree, now resting dangerously low, hugged her hips even tighter, framing her body with an almost deliberate boldness that left little to the imagination. He could feel the eyes of others in the room drifting toward her, drawn in by the same irresistible allure. Yet Vishal’s gaze remained locked on her, his thoughts filled with the image of her soft, exposed skin and the barely concealed promise in her teasing smile.
Vishal’s mind drifted into forbidden fantasies as he watched Afrah’s delicate fingers trace the curve of her waist. Her skin looked impossibly smooth, like the finest cream, glowing under the soft lights. He imagined his hands replacing hers, feeling the warmth and softness of her buttery skin beneath his touch, every inch inviting him closer.

His thoughts grew bolder, envisioning the thrill of leaning down to press his lips against her bare waist, his tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path along that flawless skin. He could almost taste the warmth of her, the softness yielding under his touch, every inch as sweet as he imagined. The thought of his mouth exploring her, savoring the smooth expanse of her waist, set his pulse racing, a raw, primal desire building within him. She was intoxicating, and the way she adjusted her saree with such casual allure only fueled his need, making his fantasies spiral even deeper into temptation.

Catching her eye, he leaned in, voice low and a bit playful, “Something’s missing.”

She bit her lip, feigning innocence. “What?”

“A waist chain would make it even more... alluring,” he replied, his tone filled with a hint of admiration.

She gave him a sly smile, letting her fingers brush over her waist. "It draws too much attention from your pervert eyes," she teased, a glint of mischief in her gaze.

Vishal’s smile was slow and suggestive. “Next time,” he murmured, “you’ll wear it for me.” She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk, catching his hand just before it reached her waist and giving it a light slap. “You and that chain,” she teased, clearly enjoying the game as much as he was.

She turns and leaned against the bar, she arched her back, making her hips and ass push out in a way that seemed almost crafted for his eyes alone. The saree hugged her curves, clinging to every line, every dip, each contour revealed as though the fabric had been painted onto her skin. His eyes roamed over the exquisite curve of her ass, barely concealed by the saree’s soft dbang, each sway of her hips sending a pulse through him.


[img]<a href=[/img]" />

When her drink arrived, she smirked slightly, picking up an ice cube between her fingers, holding it as if knowing the effect it would have on him. Vishal’s breath hitched as she lifted it to her neck, the coolness pressing against her warm skin, leaving a faint glistening trail that caught the light in the most tantalizing way. She drew it down, ever so slowly, following the line of her neck to her collarbone, letting the ice melt and leaving her skin dewy, as though inviting him closer.

“It’s so hot in here, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice innocent but her eyes anything but. Vishal’s gaze followed as the ice moved lower, lingering right at the edge of her blouse, teasing him with just a glimpse of the soft skin beneath. His mind filled with thoughts of his hands and lips tracing those same trails, savoring the coolness against her warmth, exploring every inch of her exposed skin. 


[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Vishal’s eyes were fixed on her, captivated as she traced the cube along the curve of her shoulder. She locked eyes with him, then lifted the ice to her lips, pausing just long enough to let it slip between them, before letting it melt back into her glass. 


As Vishal held her close, Afrah’s gaze drifted across the room, landing squarely on Tanya. Her lips curled into a sly, victorious grin, a look that spoke volumes as she leaned even closer into Vishal, letting the possessive hold linger. She wanted Tanya to see—no, to 'feel: the message that Afrah was sending without a single word.

With a subtle, almost teasing sway, Afrah tilted her head, keeping her eyes locked on Tanya as if to say, 'He’s with me now.' The way Tanya's eyes narrowed in response only made Afrah’s grin deepen, satisfaction flickering across her face. 

Then, as if she had just a passing thought, Afrah turned back to Vishal, brushing her fingers against his shoulder, her voice soft but clear enough to carry. “I hope 'everyone: here sees who you’re really with tonight.”





As Afrah pulled away, a rush of excitement bubbled up inside her. She’d seen the look in Tanya’s eyes—the flash of jealousy and irritation—and it felt like a small, delicious victory. Her lips twitched into a smirk as she turned to Vishal, still savoring the moment. 

“I need to go freshen up,” she said, letting her fingers trail down his arm before stepping back. “And you, Mr. Vishal, better behave while I’m gone.” She gave him a playful, pointed look, tapping his chest lightly. “No more… lurking around, okay? Be a good boy.” 

As she walked away, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, catching his smirk and the way his eyes followed her every move.


Afrah stood in front of the mirror, applying a fresh coat of lipstick, her heart racing with exhilaration. She tilted her head, admiring the way the deep red contrasted with her glowing skin, accentuating her full lips. Her reflection looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but snap a few selfies, posing in the sultry lighting of the washroom. 

With each click of her phone, she felt more and more empowered, her confidence swelling as she captured the essence of the woman she wanted to be tonight—sexy, bold, and unapologetic. She checked her saree one last time, adjusting the dbang so it hugged her curves perfectly, teasing just enough skin to leave a lasting impression. 

Stepping out of the washroom, she took a deep breath, ready to face the party again. 
Afrah's heart raced as she caught sight of Sohail, deep in conversation with another guest. Panic surged through her. She didn’t want to be caught .

She ducked behind a nearby pillar, her breath quickening as she pulled out her phone. Her fingers trembled as she texted Vishal.

"Where are you? I need you!"

She pressed send and held her breath, glancing over her shoulder to keep an eye on Sohail. Her heart sank as she saw him laughing, his back turned, but she could feel the dread building. What if he turned around and saw her? 

She bit her lip, feeling the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She didn't want to cause a scene or draw attention to herself. She just needed to stay hidden until she figured out what to do.

Just as she was starting to feel trapped, her phone buzzed with a reply from Vishal.

"What’s wrong? Where are you?"

"In the hallway near the washroom. Sohail is here. I'm scared he’ll see me."

A moment later, he replied, "Stay put. I’m coming."

Afrah felt a wave of anxiety wash over her as she clutched her phone tighter. What if Sohail spotted her? What would she say? She leaned against the cool wall, her pulse pounding in her ears. 

She watched as Sohail continued his conversation, the laughter around her amplifying her nerves. She felt so exposed, hiding while her heart raced with fear. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

Finally, she saw Vishal approaching, his expression shifting from playful to serious as he noticed her distress. He stepped closer, his voice low and soothing. “Afrah, what’s going on?”

“I... I didn’t want him to see me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m scared, Vishal. What if he finds out?”

Vishal reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe. We can figure this out together. Just stick close to me, alright?”

Afrah's heart raced as Vishal led her up the dimly lit stairs, the soft hum of the party fading behind them. She could feel a mix of excitement and apprehension, her mind swirling with thoughts of being caught by Sohail. Just as she hesitated at the top of the stairs, Vishal turned to her with a teasing grin.

“Relax, Afrah. We’re not going to get caught here. Besides, if Sohail shows up, I’ll handle him. I’ve always got your back,” he said, his tone playful yet reassuring. 

She looked up at him, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “You promise? I really don’t want to face him tonight.” 

Vishal chuckled, the sound low and inviting. “Trust me, you’re safe with me. Think of this as our little adventure.” He stepped onto the balcony, motioning for her to follow. 

As she stepped out, the cool evening air brushed against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from her. The view from the balcony was breathtaking; they could see the entire party below, the flickering lights dancing like stars in the night. 

Afrah leaned against the railing, her heart fluttering as she gazed down at the crowd, the music vibrating through her. “It’s beautiful up here,” she said, trying to calm her racing heart. 

“Just like you in that saree,” Vishal replied, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. 

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the compliment. “You’re just saying that,” she teased, but the heat of his gaze made her pulse quicken. 

“No, I mean it. You look absolutely stunning,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her, lingering on the way the chiffon clung to her curves. 

She blushed again turned toward the balcony , looking at party , spotted Sohail by the bar ,felt Vishal near her back ,his hand sliding to her waist ,her lips parted, she didn't turn.

Look at him ,he is unware that his beautiful fiance is with me , pinching her ,soft waist ,she gasp.Her ass was collide with him.

Has he ever seen you something as sexy as the saree you are wearing now? His breath on her neck.

No , she said softly.

His hand powerfully griped her waist and pulled her towards him, he kissed her back ,then neck, she gasp, 

She could still see Sohail ,this is so wrong yet thrilling ,his hand plays with her waist a little but slowly one hand was going upward ,as he is about reach her boobs,she stop him turned and kiss him.


Afrah blushed again, her heart racing as she turned her gaze toward the lively party below, trying to distract herself from the electric tension between her and Vishal. She caught sight of Sohail at the bar, his back turned, blissfully unaware of the thrilling secret unfolding just a few feet away. As she felt Vishal's presence drawing nearer, his warm hand slid possessively to her waist, sending a jolt of heat coursing through her body. Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t dare turn to him.

“Look at him,” Vishal murmured, his voice low and teasing, almost a purr against her ear. “He’s completely unaware that his beautiful fiancée is right here with me.” He pinched her soft waist gently, making her gasp. The collision of her ass against him ignited a fire deep within her.

“Has he ever seen you in something as sexy as this saree?” Vishal continued, his breath hot against her neck, igniting her senses. The sheer fabric clung to her curves, and she could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, caught between the thrill of the moment and the lingering guilt.

In an instant, his grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The warmth of his body enveloped her, making her acutely aware of every inch of their connection. He leaned down, kissing the delicate curve of her back before trailing soft, teasing kisses along her neck. She gasped, the sensation igniting a wildfire within her as she caught another glimpse of Sohail, his laughter echoing in the distance. This was so wrong, yet the thrill of being caught only heightened her desire.

Vishal’s hand began to explore, fingers dancing teasingly along her waist, slowly inching upward, dangerously close to her breasts. Just as she felt the heat of his touch threatening to breach her limits, she turned abruptly, capturing his lips with hers in a fierce, breathless kiss. It was intoxicating, a whirlwind of longing and urgency as their mouths moved together, her body instinctively pressing against him. She could taste the sweet hint of alcohol on his lips, mingling with the spicy flavor of their reckless evening.

With each kiss, she surrendered to the delicious chaos of desire. The world around them faded as she melted into him, feeling his warmth seep into her very core. The thrill of hiding, the danger of being caught, and the heat of his body against hers spiraled into an intoxicating mix that sent her heart racing even faster.


The kiss deepened, a wild mix of desire and urgency that ignited something primal between them. Their tongues danced and tangled together, slick and eager, sending sparks through Afrah’s body. The soft, wet sounds of their mouths colliding echoed in the stillness of the balcony, as she pressed herself closer to him, her heart racing wildly against her chest. 

When they finally broke apart, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the intensity. “Just a kiss for you, remember,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, laced with a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. “Nothing else. I have to go home, Vishal; it’s getting late, and we could get caught. Just book me a taxi, okay?”

But Vishal’s gaze was unwavering, fixed on her heaving breasts.Each inhale made the fabric hug her tighter, revealing the smooth contours of her body, and the sight made his pulse quicken. Afrah could feel the heat radiating from him, a magnet pulling her closer, an undeniable allure that made her shiver with anticipation.

“Okay, one more kiss, then I’ll call you a cab,” he said, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a thrill racing down her spine. “You can slip out through the backdoor. No one will know you were here.”

Blushing under his heated gaze, Afrah felt a rush of thrill mix with the apprehension. She leaned in again, surrendering to the chemistry that crackled between them. Their lips met once more, and this time, the kiss was a hungry exploration, filled with the urgency of unspoken desires. The warmth of his body enveloped her, and she could feel every inch of him pressing against her, heightening her senses. 

As their mouths moved together, lost in the passionate embrace, his hands traveled to her waist, gripping her tightly. She could feel his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her saree, the subtle caress sending electric shivers through her. With deliberate slowness, one of his hands slid upward, tracing the outline of her curves, his fingers grazing her side before landing softly on her breast.

“Vishal…” she gasped, the sound escaping her lips like a plea as he squeezed gently, his touch igniting a fire within her. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving her dizzy with pleasure. Despite the thrill of being so close to being caught, she leaned into his touch, craving more. Their kiss deepened, becoming more intense, more primal, as he explored her body with a hunger that mirrored her own. She moaned softly, lost in the moment, the world around them fading away.

Finally, they parted, both gasping for breath, their faces flushed with desire. The heat of the moment still lingered, the air thick with tension.

“You’re a bad boy,” Afrah managed to tease, her voice breathless but edged with playful authority. “You should control your hands. If you can’t, then no more kisses.”

Vishal’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “But what’s the fun in that?” he replied, his voice low and seductive, sending another wave of shivers down her spine. 

She could feel her heart racing as she contemplated his words, the thrill of their connection igniting a new kind of excitement within her. “You’re incorrigible,” she said, half-laughing, half-breathless, her heart pounding with the thrill of the moment.

“Maybe,” he replied, stepping closer once again, his gaze roaming over her as if memorizing every 
curve and contour. “But you love it.”


Vishal pov:

Vishal watched her leave. He could have easily taken things further tonight, could have pressed his advantage and drawn even more from her—but he held back, letting restraint win out over impulse. There was a thrill in drawing her out slowly, watching her grow bolder with each encounter. He wanted to see that spark of confidence, that hidden vixen within her, fully unleashed.

Vishal returned to the party, noticing for the first time how many alluring women were mingling around, their laughter and flirtatious glances filling the air. It was as if Afrah’s presence had cast a shadow over everyone else earlier, but now, without her around, his attention drifted. 

Spotting Sohail standing by his boss, Vishal straightened, slipping into his confident charm as he approached them. He greeted Sohail's boss with a firm handshake, exchanging pleasantries and nodding at Sohail, who seemed slightly unsteady from a few too many drinks. 

After some casual conversation, Vishal drifted back into the crowd but kept an eye on Sohail. A short while later, he found him nursing another drink at the bar, a slight sway in his stance. Taking the opportunity, Vishal approached with a casual smile.

“Hey, Sohail,” he started smoothly, leaning in as if sharing a friendly word. “You know, Afrah’s really something. Excellent employee, dedicated, and,” he added with a small, almost playful grin, “she certainly knows how to make an impression, doesn’t she?”

He watched Sohail’s reaction closely, reading the subtle tension in his expression. It was as if a flicker of discomfort flashed across Sohail’s face, and Vishal felt a thrill in stirring that hint of possessiveness.


Vishal leaned against the bar, swirling his drink as he kept his gaze on Sohail. "Vishal leaned against the bar, swirling his drink as he kept his gaze on Sohail. "You know, Sohail, you’ve got quite the catch with Afrah," he said, his tone teasing yet pointed, watching for any reaction.

Sohail gave a slight nod, his face softening as he responded, "Yes, she is. Afrah’s... she’s a nice, homely girl. She’s grounded, traditional, you know?"


Vishal smirked to himself, the edge of his glass resting just below his lips as he thought, This doofus has no idea that his beautiful fiancée was in my arms moments ago, kissing me like her life was depand on it.
Glancing back at Sohail, he noticed a flicker of insecurity in the man's eyes, softened by his drunken state. Vishal leaned in, feigning casual curiosity, all the while savoring the irony. 'Sohail doesn’t deserve a girl like Afrah," he thought. The innocence and devotion Sohail associated with her only added a layer of thrill to what had just transpired. Vishal’s gaze lingered on him, wondering if the man had even the slightest inkling of how fragile his hold
 over Afrah might be.



Leaving the bar, Vishal spotted Tanya standing alone, her gaze scanning the room. A smirk played on his lips as he approached her, half-expecting her to be furious after the attention he’d given Afrah. But instead, the moment she saw him, her eyes gleamed, and before he knew it, she was pressed against him, as if she’d been holding back for too long. Her hands slid around his neck, pulling him close until their lips met in a fierce, heated kiss, her hunger unmistakable.

In the dim corner, his hands roamed her curves, one slipping to grip her waist while the other slid lower. With a mischievous grin, he smacked her ass, earning a playful gasp that only fueled the intensity between them. Tanya melted into him, her lips and body pressing harder as they continued, lost in their secret moment away from prying eyes.

"Your are so wet , aren't you slut?” he teased, his fingers deftly finding her most sensitive spot. 

“Yes,” she moaned softly, the heat of the moment enveloping them.

“Please,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with a mix of longing and vulnerability, the intensity of the moment igniting a fire within her.

With a knowing smirk, he guided her down gently, their eyes locking in an electric connection, as she looked up at him with those doe-like eyes, full of anticipation and desire.



He pushes his hips forward, presenting his hard, slick cock in front of Tanya. “Get to work,” he orders. His words―or rather, his tone―put Tanya under a spell. She has no need to argue or test him. She just does exactly as he tells her. “Sir, yes, sir,” she responds as she drops down to her knees, his cock right in front of her face. His huge, veiny, sexy, thick cock.


Tanya hungrily shoves his shaft against her lips, slobbering all over it. The head and shaft of his cock are dripping with her saliva as she runs her tongue over every inch she can—all ten of them.


Once his cock is all spit-soaked, she wraps her lips around it and sucks hard against her tongue. She grinds the tip of it against the roof of her mouth, twisting her entire head as she takes as much of it as she can.

Vishal moans in approval and starts pumping his hips against her face. His feet are planted firmly on the floor, and he uses his core strength to thrust his cock deeper into her mouth.

She happily swallows the head of his cock, sliding it down into her tight throat. She moans, letting the sound vibrate against his huge cock. He moans even louder in response.


Tanya look up at as him as she stroke his cock.



“Not satisfied yet, Tanya? What do you want, slut?” he said.

"I want you to fuck me"said Tanya.


Vishal effortlessly lifted her over his shoulder, giving her a playful smack that made her gasp and laugh softly. She wrapped her arms around him, letting herself be carried, feeling the thrilling pulse of the forbidden. 

He pushed open the door of a guest room, fully expecting privacy. But as they entered, he stopped short, spotting Sohail sprawled on a sofa, lost in a heavy, drunken sleep. Vishal’s eyes narrowed as he smirked, the irony of the moment hitting him. 


Vishal set Tanya down on the second bed, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in, his hands roaming her curves with a firm, possessive grip. Tanya’s nervous glance flickered over to Sohail, asleep and oblivious on the other bed, and she whispered, “But… what if he wakes up?”

Vishal smirked, pulling her closer. “Trust me,” he murmured with a glint in his eye. “He is a pussy,He won’t do anything.” He brushed his lips over hers, his hands kneading her.

“Just focus on me,” Vishal whispered, bringing her back to him, leaving any thought of Sohail as nothing more than a fleeting shadow in the background.

Tanya squeals as he turns her over and bends her on the bed. He lifts up her skirt and yanks down her panties, noticing he may have ripped them in the process. She squeals again in excitement, jutting her ass out. Wasting no time, he puts on a condom, positions the head of his cock at the entrance of her pussy, and shoves into her canal.


“Oh my fucking God, Vishal!” Tanya moans out loud. She starts squirming on his cock, like a bug pierced by a needle—her arms writhing all over the sheet.
His cock is going in and out of her she nod her head and bite her tongue.

Tanya looks like she's going crazy, grunting and groaning like an animal in heat. Her eyes are clouded with lust, and her hands are desperately trying to grab hold of something—anything.

She hits one of the phones along the side of the bed. He doesn’t know which one, but whatever—it actually feels pretty good.
He closes his eyes and goes back to imagining the women he’s been with, thinking of all the things he’s wanted to do with them.

“Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard!” he tell her.


“Oh unggggghh, baby, it’s so daaaa….good,” she moans again.


“Tell me how much you want it,” he tell her. He hold onto her hips and increase his tempo. “Oooohh,” Tanya coos. “Eeeeee,” she pants. At least that’s what it sounds like.
 He haven’t opened his eyes yet. Just going by auditory impulses. “Tell me how much you
you fucking love my cock,” he says.


As Vishal pressed his body against Tanya's, the heat and urgency between them built to a fever pitch. Their movements created a symphony of sounds, the soft rustle of fabric, the light thud of bodies colliding, and the breathy gasps that escaped their lips, echoing in the dimly lit room. Just as Vishal deepened the kiss, lost in the moment, a muffled voice broke through the haze.

“No, Afrah! No, Afrah, please!” Sohail's slurred words cut through the tension, pulling Vishal and Tanya back to reality. Sohail, still caught in the fog of drunkenness, was stirring on the other bed, his bleary eyes barely focused but unmistakably fixated on them.

Vishal froze for a heartbeat, a mixture of amusement and irritation flickering across his face. He exchanged a glance with Tanya, whose expression shifted from surprise to a smirk of mischief, as if the drama only added to the thrill of the moment.

Vishal continued his movements, a smirk on his lips as he ground against Tanya, feeling her warmth and desire beneath him. 
This cuck thinks I am fucking his fiance now, thought Vishal looking at Sohail scar
ed expression.A wicked idea came to his mind,which brings him to edge .

[Zoz34]

Great story of possible hve a phone sex

Excellent update

Thanks

[Zoz34]

story is going too well awesome update

Super update

Nice update,

waiting for an update

Thanks

[Zoz34]

The story is going good. It will be interesting to know whats the end game for Vishal. Does he want to marry Afrah or is he just playing with her.

Thanks for your comments, Vishal intentions will be revealed

[Zoz34]

It is very clear that vishal wants to change sohail a cuck and fuck afrah for life and make her carry his child in her womb. Vishal does not want to break the family but as a bull wants to pleasure the woman that starve for it. Vishal is a good human and he deserves a nobel prize.

The question is will Sohail will be a willing cuck or reluctant one?

[Zoz34]

Afrah lay on her bed, the dim glow of her bedside lamp casting a warm light across her room as she glanced at the clock: 11:30 p.m. With her phone pressed to her ear, she could hear Vishal’s low, confident voice on the other end. 

"Don't worry," he reassured her, a slight edge of amusement in his tone. "He won't find out a thing. Besides… I think you enjoy the thrill of it all." 

Afrah’s pulse quickened, a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering within her. She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment. "Maybe," she replied softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "But he’s already a little suspicious."

"Let him be," Vishal teased. "A little mystery never hurt anyone." 

Vishal’s voice dropped to a softer, more intimate tone. "You know," he murmured, "you looked absolutely stunning that night in that saree. The way it hugged your curves... you were driving me crazy." 

[img]<a href=[/img]" />
"I noticed ,where your eyes were," she replied, a playful note in her voice. 

"Can you blame me? The way you looked… it was impossible to ignore. And the way you teased me—adjusting your saree, letting me catch glimpses of your waist… you knew exactly what you were doing..

 "Maybe I did," she admitted, a smile playing on her lips. "

"Oh god and the blouse it was fitted around your,....." he stopped.



Afrah closed her eyes, the memory flashing through her mind. The memory of his touch washed over her with vivid clarity. She could almost feel the warmth of his fingers tracing along the delicate slope of her waist, each graze sparking a fire under her skin. His hands had traveled upward with purpose, the roughness of his fingertips grazing her smooth, exposed back before finally finding her curves, cupping her with a firm, possessive hold that made her gasp.
[img]<a href=[/img]

Even now, the thought of his hands gripping her so firmly, of the way his body pressed against hers under the night sky, left her shivering, the memory as intense as if he were still there, holding her close, making her melt under his touch.

Lost in the memory, Afrah’s hand moved almost instinctively, grazing her own skin, as if trying to recreate the feel of his touch. She let her fingers trace slowly up her waist, feeling the warmth rise as they traveled over her curves. Her heart beat faster, breaths coming shallow, as her hand found her own softness, pressing gently. 
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensations. Her fingers lingered, and she could almost feel the way his hands had claimed her, the pressure and warmth, the way he’d pulled her close, making her melt. The memory was so vivid.


Vishal " You are thinking about it. Just imagining it, aren’t you? May be you are also touching yourself!"

Afrah felt her cheeks warm: "I told you, that's not how a gentleman talks," 

He laughed :"Gentleman or not, I bet your hands are playing with your body"

"You're the one who couldn’t control your eyes," she countered.

"Sometimes it's not just my eyes," he replied smoothly. "My hands have a habit of reaching out when they see something as tempting as you were."

She bit her lip, caught off guard by the boldness of his words. "You should learn to keep those hands in check because some places are off-limits."

"And yet ,I have a feeling you wouldn’t stop me if I were there right now, showing you exactly what I mean."he replied 


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Afrah felt her heart race as she squeezed her breasts, her fingers curling around the soft flesh, lost in the heat of the moment. “You are so wrong, you cocky bastard,” she replied, trying to sound indignant even as her body betrayed her. 

Vishal:“I don’t think so. You still haven’t answered my first question. Are you touching yourself, my little brat?” 

His words sent a jolt through her, igniting a fire within. An uncontrollable moan escaped her lips, and she quickly bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle it, not wanting him to hear the pleasure creeping into her voice. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not,” he pressed, sensing her struggle. “I can tell. Just admit it, Afrah. You’re teasing me, and I know how much you enjoy it.”

She closed her eyes, her breath coming in shallow bursts as she fought to maintain her composure. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, the heat of desire flooding her body as she continued to explore the soft curves of her breasts.


Afrah smirked, her tone dripping with playful defiance. “I’m not a pervert like you, Vishal. Besides, may I ask—what exactly are you doing, Mr. Pervert?”

 “Thinking about you,and that sexy body of yours.”he said.

Afrah:“Oh, really? Pervert,” 

Vishal:“Maybe I’m even touching myself, imagining how you’d look if you were here with me,” he said, letting each word linger.

Afrah’s breath caught, her mind flickering with the imagery he’d planted, heat pooling in her cheeks. The thought of him thinking about her like that—doing that—while talking to her was both thrilling and dangerously tempting.


“Touching yourself, huh?” she replied, trying to sound unaffected, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re something else, Vishal. No shame at all, is there?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I can’t help it, Afrah. You have this effect on me… that saree, the way it hugged every curve…”

"You should have some self-control, you shameless man," she teased, though the irony wasn’t lost as her own hand pressed against her breast, fingers kneading softly, and her thighs shifted together, trying to ease the ache he’d stirred.

Vishal chuckled darkly. "And if I don’t?"

"Then," she whispered back, trying to sound as calm as her racing pulse would allow, "I should punish you like a bad boy."

Vishal:“I don’t mind getting punished by you… but if I behave, what would I get as a reward?”

“What do you want?” she asked, almost holding her breath for his answer.

Vishal :“I want to kiss those juicy lipsto drink in every drop.”

Afrah:“You got plenty of that already, naughty boy.”

Vishal: “Not those lips… the other ones.”

Her breath caught, his words igniting a new rush of heat. Afrah bit her lip, feeling the thrill of his words wash over her.


Afrah felt her pulse quicken, thighs pressing together in an attempt to ease the ache his words had awakened. She could feel the warmth spreading, a telltale dampness between her legs. His voice seemed to linger in her mind, each syllable painting a vivid, unrestrained image.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself on her bed, the soft sheets cool against her bare skin. Her body lay open, vulnerable, but she wasn’t alone. She could feel his presence—Vishal’s lips tracing gentle, burning kisses down her inner thighs, his hands firm, holding her as he moved closer. The thought made her breath hitch, the ache inside her intensifying. His mouth, his touch—she imagined him savoring her, tasting her, his tongue exploring with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left her aching for more. 

She exhaled, trying to steady herself, but the sensation lingered, his words weaving desire into her every thought.


“You’re impossible, you pervert,” Afrah muttered, a flustered smile playing on her lips before she quickly cut the call. She tossed her phone onto the bed, feeling her heart race, the echo of his words still lingering in her mind. 

Afrah closed her eyes, trying to compose herself, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him—his voice, the teasing edge in his words, and the thrill he stirred within her. She sighed, cheeks warm as she tried to shake off the feeling, knowing Vishal was probably grinning on the other end.

Over the next few days, Afrah found herself drawn into a dance of lingering glances and quiet flirtations with Vishal. 

Vishal, however, seemed to grow bolder each day. His subtle touches became a bit more daring, and his glances lingered a little longer. A brush of his hand as he passed, a whispered compliment when no one was around.

The other day, As Afrah entered the elevator , found Vishal already inside . He looked at her with that mischievous glint. The crowded space pressed her gently back against him until she could feel his warmth radiating against her body.

Vishal’s hand found her waist, he pulled her closer. She felt the unmistakable firmness of his body pressed against her back, and a thrill shot through her. 

She heard him whisper softly, his voice like velvet against her ear, “You look incredibly sexy today.” Her body tensed, a mix of nerves and excitement, and she was all too aware of the firmness pressing into her. 

"Oh no, it’s… it’s so big," she thought, cheeks warming as she fought to keep her expression neutral. The forbidden excitement sent a rush through her, each second passing like an eternity as they waited for the next floor to arrive.

----
Sohail seemed very suspicious lately.

Afrah shared her thoughts with Vishal .

"Why don’t you take him out for a bit?" he suggested .

 "There’s that new movie everyone’s talking about. Take him to DLF Mall. A little quality time might put his mind at ease."

 Spending some time with Sohail could help make everything feel normal again—and the idea of a casual movie date might ease his suspicions. she nodded. "Not a bad idea. A day out together might be just what we need."

Sohail pov:

The last few days had been a storm of confusion and doubt for Sohail. Fragments of that night at the party drifted through his mind—unclear, blurred images that he couldn't quite piece together. Who had sent him those photos, and were they even real? Was Afrah actually involved with Vishal, or was it all in his head? Without concrete evidence, he felt as though he was spiraling, trapped in uncertainty.

Then came Afrah’s unexpected movie suggestion, a move so out of character for her. She rarely initiated plans like these. Yet, it was exactly what he needed, a small but welcome reprieve from his swirling thoughts. 


Sohail booked the tickets upon their arrival at the mall. They had time before the show, so they strolled through the mall together, browsing shops, and laughing at small jokes and anecdotes. Afrah seemed light-hearted, smiling in a way he hadn’t seen in days, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his suspicions had been misplaced.


He glanced at her as they walked, her smile radiant, her voice soft as they chatted. And for the first time in a while, he wondered if he had been seeing shadows where there were none.

The movie was a popular release, so the theater was buzzing with people. As they waited in line, Sohail’s eyes caught a familiar face across the crowd—Vishal. His heart sank, unease prickling at him. Vishal spotted them, too, and with a smile that seemed just a bit too eager, made his way over.

“Hey, Sohail, Afrah! Fancy seeing you two here,” he greeted, his gaze lingering on Afrah a second too long.

Sohail :“Are you here with someone?”

Vishal:“Nah, I’m flying solo. Guess not everyone is as lucky as you, Sohail, to have such beautiful company.” His eyes slid to Afrah, who blushed under his gaze.

Sohail shifted uncomfortably, noticing the way her cheeks had flushed. 

But as they walked into the theater and found their seats, it was clear fate wasn’t on his side: their seats were arranged with Vishal right beside Afrah. 

Sohail hesitated, wanting to switch seats to keep a closer eye on Vishal. But with the crowd settling in and the movie about to start, he realized he didn’t want to make a scene.

“Looks like we’re seatmates tonight,” Vishal said to Afrah, Sohail clenched his jaw, watching the interaction from the corner of his eye, wishing he could shake off the creeping discomfort.


Sohail tried to focus on the movie, but his mind kept drifting back to Vishal and Afrah sitting beside him. From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but glance over, searching for any sign, any subtle exchange between them. Yet they both seemed to be focused on the screen, their expressions casual and absorbed in the film.

Just as he started to relax, a soft sound reached his ears—an "ahhhh," faint but unmistakable. His head whipped around to Afrah, but her face remained serene, her eyes fixed on the movie, lips pressed together as if she hadn’t made a sound at all. Vishal, too, appeared engrossed in the film, not even glancing her way.

Afrah turned to him, her brows furrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, catching his stare.

Sohail shook his head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just… thought I heard something.”

 His heart was racing.  

Sometimes later Vishal asked Sohail fill up the popcorn bucket.Sohail hesitated but eventually took the empty popcorn bucket from Vishal and headed out. 

Finally, with the popcorn in hand, he hurried back, half-expecting to catch them in some whispered conversation or sneaky exchange. But as he entered, he found them both seated, eyes on the screen, expressions undisturbed, as if he’d never left. They seemed immersed in the movie, unaware of his brief absence.

 But doubt remained, making it hard to enjoy the movie as he nervously reached for the popcorn.


As they exited the theater, Vishal casually suggested dinner,Sohail hesitated, wanting to say no and take Afrah home, but Vishal pressed, insisting, “Come on, consider it a treat for my most hardworking employee and her lucky fiancé.” 

After a few more nudges, Sohail finally agreed, though reluctantly. Vishal led them to an upscale restaurant nearby, its modern decor and soft lighting setting a sophisticated atmosphere. 

As they took their seats, Vishal ordered effortlessly, chatting with the staff as though he frequented places like this all the time.

Afrah pov:

Afrah watched as Sohail excused himself to the washroom, a rush of relief washing over her. As soon as he was out of earshot, she turned to Vishal, her heart racing with adrenaline and desire. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” she said, lightly slapping his arm, a mix of annoyance and exhilaration in her tone.

Vishal :“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it,”.

“I didn’t!” she protested, though the blush spreading across her cheeks revealed the truth.

He smirked “Come on, Afrah. I know you better than that. You love the thrill.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper as vivid memories of the theatre played in her mind—his hand had been on her thigh, boldly gliding up the soft fabric of her dress while Sohail sat right next to her, blissfully unaware. The way he caressed her, fingers dancing teasingly along her skin, sent electric shocks through her. When his hand moved to her waist and pinched her lightly, she struggled to suppress a moan, the mix of danger and excitement making her head spin.



“Your lips look so juicy, Afrah,” Vishal said with a playful glint in his eyes.

She responded with a light slap on his arm, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. But as the moment passed, her mind drifted back to the theater, recalling how he had kissed her while Sohail went to refill the popcorn. It had happened so suddenly, her heart racing as she felt the warm breath against her skin. When his lips had met hers, it was electric—his mouth moving against hers with a hunger that made her pulse quicken. 

Vishal’s hands had found their way to her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were almost flush. She could feel the heat radiating from him, his fingers gripping her just firmly enough to keep her anchored in the moment. The kiss was deep and consuming, his lips coaxing hers open, tasting her with an urgency that sent shivers down her spine. She hadn’t meant to give in, but the thrill of the forbidden consumed her, and she melted against him, her own hands creeping up to tangle in his hair.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
They were in their own world, the darkness of the theater wrapping around them like a cloak. The two teenagers in the next seat watched, eyes wide with surprise and intrigue, as Afrah lost herself in the kiss. She could almost hear the soft sounds of the movie playing in the background, but all that mattered was the way Vishal’s mouth moved against hers, how he nibbled at her lower lip, savoring her sweetness as if she were the most delicious treat.

Every brush of his tongue against hers ignited a fire within her, and she could feel the tension building as the kiss deepened. It was a blend of sweetness and desire, leaving her breathless and wanting more. She was fully aware of the risks.


Just as she began to lose herself completely in the moment, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Sohail returned, sliding back into his seat beside her at the restaurant. He wore a smile that she hoped concealed any doubts he might have been harboring. Afrah forced her focus back to their dinner, the thrill of her clandestine moments with Vishal still buzzing beneath the surface, making it hard to act natural. The memory of that kiss lingered on her lips, a delicious reminder of their daring rendezvous, and she couldn’t help but wonder when she might steal another moment with him again.


The conversation moved along with an ease that belied the tension Afrah felt as Vishal’s hand subtly slid onto her thigh under the table. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her face composed, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. Sohail, oblivious, chuckled at Vishal’s comments, not sensing the current running beneath the table.

“So, when’s the wedding date?” Vishal asked casually, though his fingers brushed in a slow, maddening rhythm over Afrah’s thigh.

Sohail:“About four months from now,” 

Sohail:“You’re very lucky to get a girl like Afrah,” 

Sohail :“Yes, I am. Are you married or seeing someone, Vishal?”

Vishal: “I’m seeing someone, but she’s a bit of a brat, Not sure if she’d even consider me her boyfriend.”


Vishal : “But enough about me. Where are you planning to go for the honeymoon?”

Sohail:“We haven’t decided yet,” 

“Well, you’d better,” Vishal replied with a smirk, his hand lingering possessively on Afrah’s thigh. “A girl like her deserves all the worldly pleasures.”

Afrah suppressed a shiver, desperately hoping her expression remained neutral as she felt Vishal’s touch igniting every nerve.


While they were talking about her wedding she had all her attention between her legs. On the excitement there. Vishal had her wet.
Her ideas of relationships were formed in Classic literature. Monogamy and fidelity, devotion and love. That was her conception. Those were her rules, her morality. She couldn’t deny she had urges but they were pure smutty badness. Hormonal blips, moments in time when her body craved masculinity by ancient processes of fertility.

They sat on white wicker around the table. 

The lobster was delicious. Maybe the best she had ever tasted. The flesh was soft and smooth, had the texture of the butter. The table was interspersed with plates they’d been served and appetizers she hadn’t yet tried. 

She took glass of water watched her hand shake. She needed to get out of here. Needed to get home, get down to the beach and touch herself of releif.

Watched Vishal's masculine hands pull over a plate of oysters. Watched the muscle and tendon at work, the cuff of his fine dress shirt slip along the tweed of his jacket. His skin was tanned and smooth. He worked the tiny fork under his oyster and she watched him unabashedly. He lifted, then tilted the shell to his lip. Watched now the muscles of his neck and face work, watched him consume the slippery oyster, then suck his own lips. he moaned softly, "Mmm," the sound low and primal. The sight of him sucking the oyster relishing every drop, had her mind spiraling. She imagine those same lips on her oyster.The presence of Sohail in the equation only further ignites the forbidden fire.


Afrah’s thoughts drifted, yearning for the feel of his lips exploring her as intimately as he tasted that oyster. She wanted his mouth on her, wanted him to feed off her desire, savoring every touch, every taste. Her handsome boss, her pretend boyfriend, with his strong build and those strikingly dashing looks—he was everything forbidden and thrilling, and she could feel the allure pulling her deeper.

 It was impossible not to imagine his lips tracing a path along her skin, each kiss igniting a spark that she couldn’t extinguish, even if she wanted to. 

Afrah lifted the oyster to her lips, her eyes holding Vishal’s as she parted her mouth, letting the oyster slide in with a slow, deliberate slurp. She let it linger on her tongue before swallowing, savoring the taste as her gaze smoldered with unspoken challenge. Her lips glistened as she finished, and she ran her tongue slowly over them, licking away the lingering taste with a teasing flick.

She watched his eyes darken as he noticed every movement, his smile curling slightly, as if he understood exactly what she was doing. There was a heat in his gaze, a tension that thickened the air between them, and she felt a thrill run through her at the silent exchange.Sohail was oblivious to what was happening around him.Is it good? How does it taste?” Sohail asked.

Vishal placed another oyster in his mouth, watching Afrah with a knowing look.

Afrah felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks. "It’s… it’s good. Really good. Wow. If you’ll excuse me," she said, standing up quickly. She left the table politely and stumbled to the washroom, her face blossoming with heat.



Oh. My. God. This fucking Vishal. She had no idea it would be like this.

She had no idea he could turn up the heat so high. Her stomach was jabbed with dull tension, he had her aching. Was this what it was like for those other girls he dated? She stared at her smiling but flushed face in the gold framed mirror of a small, elegantly decorated bathroom.Dried her hands on the towel left at the edge of the sink, wished she’d brought her purse to touch up the shine on her lips but she’d left that table in a hurry. Smiled again at her blushing reflection. 

When she stepped into the hall he was there. Leaning against a mahogany paneled wall, elbow on a high marble topped table with an exploding bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase. She stopped short, froze in her tracks while the heavy bathroom door closed behind her. She smirked when he smirked. One corner of his lips coming up in a confident angle. Her smirk less confident. Vishal eased off the table and sauntered the three steps to come to her. Put a hand on the wall behind her, looked down on her, made her look up into his blue eyes. “You ran off on me.” “I had to...go to the bathroom.” “You little tease” She shrugged, sucked on her lower lip and smiled. His finger touch her lips .

His fingers were steady but deliberate, inching her skirt higher, grazing her thigh with an agonizing slowness. Afrah felt her breath hitch as his hand brushed against her bare skin, sending a tingling wave up her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress any reaction, though her pulse was racing. 

With each slight movement, he brought the fabric higher, almost grazing her waist, teasingly 

 His hand was on her and she struggled to keep her eyes open. She gasped. His big hand flat on the front of her thigh. Sliding higher then, heel first, fingers dragging the cable knit tights. “What are you doing?” she whispered. He moved like he would kiss her and she jutted her chin to receive it, but he brushed his cheek against hers as his fingers worked under the waistband of her tights. “Oh my God, Vishal,” she sighed.The tips of his fingers worked over her soft flesh and she could feel each point where he touched her. They scored over her skin, low, to the side, coming to the crease where her thigh met her belly. Her legs began to tremble. “I'm going to touch your pussy now,” he whispered. “mmm, Vishal, ahhhh,” she said, her whisper trembling with anticipation. Using just the pad of his middle finger he explored her shapes. Tracing the cleft in her shaved mound, tickling high along her commissure where it crested above her hood. Then slipping along the plump engorged shaved halves on either side of her entry. “Oh God,” she moaned. When he touched her labia she almost cried out. She was wet. Could feel how slick she was in the warm easy movement of his fingertip. He stroked so lightly it tickled her and made her breaths heave and her eyebrows raise high. “Mm, Afrah, this is one nice little pussy. It’s so hot, it's burning. You know how wet you are?” She nodded, let her eyes close now, concentrated on the feel of his finger.“I've touched a lot of pussy, Afrah. I've never felt a girl get so wet.” His finger found her center and tested her aperture, eased her apart but didn't penetrate. “Fuck ,God, you're dripping."
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
Afrah:"Pls stop ahhhhhhh "


Vishal:"No,I want to kiss your pussy"



Afrah:"Pls stop, Sohail will get suspicious,if we.....ahhh mmm"

Vishal:"But I want my kiss,Afrah"

Afrah:"Mmm ,oh god, later I promise ,i promise ok."




“That’s a good little girl,” he said. He eased his hand up her belly and out of her tights. Her skirt fell. Touched her with the middle finger, slipped it along her lower lip. It was slick with her excitement. She could smell herself on him. He forced her lips to part with his finger, then her teeth. She took it. Took his finger deep, tasted her sex on him. Sucked his finger, regarded him with narrowed eyes.

Afrah took a steadying breath, smoothing her dress and composing herself before returning to the table. As she approached, she saw Sohail walking toward her, a hint of worry in his eyes. 

Sohail:“What took you so long?” His gaze flickered over her, lingering as if he sensed something was off but couldn’t quite place it. 

She forced a calm smile, keeping her tone light. “Oh, the washroom was occupied,” she replied casually. “And I had to fix my makeup.”

They returned to their seats, settling back in as Vishal rejoined them after a few minutes, bringing an easy smile. 

Vishal:“Sorry to keep you waiting,I ran into an old friend—the chef here, actually. Had to catch up for a moment.”

Sohail relaxed, letting his guard down as the conversation shifted back to dinner. 

As Sohail chatted on, Afrah’s attention was anything but on the meal in front of her. Her mind kept replaying the washroom encounter, the rush of excitement, the way Vishal’s words had pushed her boundaries and left her both flustered and exhilarated. The promise she had whispered to him lingered on her lips, teasing her with the thrill of what might still unfold.

Across the table, Vishal lifted another oyster to his mouth, watching her with that familiar, knowing look. The way his lips closed around the oyster, the slow savoring of each taste—it wasn’t lost on her what he was hinting at, and her cheeks grew warm, heartbeat quickening as her mind danced between fantasy and reality. She could almost feel the press of his lips again, imagining his whispered promises, and a thrill of anticipation stirred deep within her. 

But she quickly forced herself to look away, focusing on her fork, hoping Sohail wouldn’t catch the flush of heat on her cheeks or the distraction in her gaze.



Sohail’s phone rang sharply, and Afrah could see his jaw tighten as he glanced at the screen. 

“My boss needs me to join him now,” he said, barely masking his frustration. Afrah could sense his hesitation; he didn’t want to leave her alone with Vishal. She shot him a reassuring look, subtly hinting she’d be fine, but that seemed to do little to ease his concerns.

Vishal quickly stepped in, suggesting with a casual smile, “Don’t worry, Sohail. I’ll drop Afrah home. It’s on my way, anyway.”

Afrah’s pulse quickened at the idea, unsure if she wanted to stay alone with him as things between them had already started to spiral beyond her control. She glanced at Sohail, hoping he would insist on finding another solution. “I could just take a cab,” she offered, trying to keep her tone light.

But as Sohail’s boss called yet again, pushing him into a corner, Vishal persisted. Eventually, he won out, and Sohail, though clearly uncomfortable, reluctantly agreed. 

Afrah felt a wave of apprehension. She knew this setup felt all too convenient—and suspected that maybe, just maybe, this “urgent” call was orchestrated by Vishal himself.


Sohail pov:

Sohail gripped the steering wheel tighter as his car sped through the night, the cold air doing little to calm the heat of frustration and suspicion swirling within him. Every thought circled back to Afrah being alone with Vishal, the man he couldn’t shake his doubts about. His jaw clenched, anger bubbling up at everything—the call that tore him away, Vishal's smooth insistence on giving her a ride, and even Afrah herself for going along with it.

The past few days felt like a series of unsettling events he couldn’t ignore: the mysterious images sent from an unknown number, the flickers of tension in Afrah he’d never noticed before, and now this unexpected interruption on their night out. Even at the restaurant, when she’d gone to the restroom and Vishal followed shortly after, he couldn’t silence the dark suspicions creeping into his mind. He’d caught up to her eventually, finding her alone in the hallway. Vishal had been chatting with the chef—at least, that’s what he’d said. 


Unable to bear the silence, he dialed her number, his fingers tapping impatiently as it rang... and rang. No answer. His heart pounded louder with each missed attempt. On the third try, she finally picked up.

Her voice was calm, steady, sounding every bit like his Afrah, and she assured him she was just reaching home. But something about the night left a lingering, gnawing unease in his chest, one he couldn’t shake. Even as she spoke, he searched her tone for any trace of guilt, any hint of infidelity—anything to confirm his darkest fears. But there was nothing.

And yet, his heart remained heavy, the unsettling feeling refusing to leave him.



Sohail sank onto the edge of his bed, still restless from the meeting with his boss. Though the meeting had been nothing more than paperwork, his mind had wandered, unable to shake the gnawing feeling of unease that had gripped him all night. His thoughts lingered on Afrah, alone with Vishal. 

He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over her contact. A simple call or message, just to check in—he needed reassurance. His heart settled only slightly when her reply confirmed she was home safe. 

But as he set his phone down and prepared for sleep, it buzzed again.

The message was from that same unknown number.

His pulse quickened as he saw the image attached—a close-up of a male hand, glistening with some kind of liquid. For a moment, his brain failed to process it. His eyes scanned the image, and then it clicked. His breath hitched.

It was unmistakable. The hand was covered in something wet, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what it was. 

Female cum.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. His hand trembled as he gripped the phone tighter, his mind spiraling. 

Could it be Afrah’s? His mind raced. Was it her? Had Vishal...?

No.

The thought was unbearable. Sohail shook his head, trying to push the images away, but they lingered. The uncertainty, the growing suspicion—it consumed him.


Who are you ?What do you want?:Sohail


Unknown number:Who do you think I am , I think you know.

He:Vishal?

Unknown Number:"Have you ever made her cum? Have you even touched her? Look at the pic, see how wet she is."

The reply didn't answer Sohail's suspicion.

He: who are you?

Reply - she came so hard , I have more pics.

He: whose pic is it?

Reply : do you want the pictures, then you have to beg?

He: whose pic is it?
Sohail repeated the question.

He stared at the screen, his hand trembling slightly, waiting for an answer that didn't come. His heart drenched 
,his head spinning.

[Zoz34]

That was a beautiful update to start the weekend :) Where have you been so long!! Please keep the updates coming! It will set the tempo and maintain the heat!

I was busy so couldn't write. But thanks for your comments

[Zoz34]

What happened that night after Sohail left the to join his boss call:

Afrah watched her fiancé's car drive away, a knot tightening in her stomach. The moment it disappeared down the street, Vishal motioned for her to get into the car. As the door clicked shut behind her, a heavy silence filled the space between them. Afrah's heart pounded in her chest, the rhythmic beat seeming louder with each passing second. She stole a quick glance at Vishal, only to be met with his knowing smirk. Her cheeks flushed, heat spreading through her as she tried to suppress the sudden surge of nerves

Afrah: "Vishal, we agreed—just kisses. Nothing more."

Vishal: "Of course. I just want a kiss."

Afrah's gaze narrowed, trying to gauge his sincerity. "No, just… just a kiss on the lips."

He leaned in slightly, his voice a teasing whisper. "Oh, I'm definitely going to kiss your lips."

She fumbled for words, feeling heat crawl up her neck. "I mean, just… just my lips, not—" She broke off, her mind wandering to thoughts she hadn't planned. The idea of his lips somewhere more intimate sent a shiver through her.

Vishal leaned back with a grin, breaking the tension with a sudden shift.

Vishal: "Do you want ice cream?"

Afrah blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

He chuckled, his mischievous eyes meeting hers. "Ice cream. I think I need one right now."

She shook her head, unsure whether to laugh or stay annoyed. "Are you serious?"

Vishal shrugged, his grin widening. "What? Can’t a guy crave something sweet?" 

Afrah rolled her eyes, though a small smile slipped onto her lips despite herself. "Fine. Let's get ice cream, then."



Vishal leaned against the car, holding his ice cream, and slowly dragged his tongue along its edge, savoring each bit as his eyes locked onto Afrah. He took his time, his lips wrapping around the creamy swirl, every movement slow and deliberate. The way his tongue curled over each lick made her pulse quicken, and she could barely tear her gaze away.

As she watched, mesmerized, he tilted his head, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Mmm," he murmured, licking a stray drip from his lips, "this is good." His gaze held hers as he let his lips linger on the cone, drawing it out as if he was savoring something far sweeter.

Afrah swallowed, her own ice cream almost forgotten in her hand. Heat rushed through her as his words hit her, bold and unfiltered.

Vishal: "You know, my lips are craving to devour something else… But its owner is a bit bratty."

Afrah: "Maybe she is  being bratty,but perhaps it’s because it’s precious."

Vishal: "Oh, I know it’s precious, That’s exactly why I want to show my love for it... by kissing it. Showering it with my love"

Afrah: "It will be ruined by your fouk lips."

Vishal: "Foul?Oh, my lips are far from foul ,They’re  quite skillful... just like my tongue."

 He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, his voice now a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "And I think it wants my lips. I think it’s begging  for them... craving them. Weeping for them."


She bit her bottom lip, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "No, it’s not."

Vishal: "Oh, I’m sure it is,My fingers are witnesses to that."

Before she could respond, he reached out, his fingers dipping into the melting ice cream, the creamy texture clinging to his skin. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking the ice cream off with a slow, sensual motion, his eyes never leaving hers. Each movement was languid, almost unbearably so, as he savored the taste.

Afrah’s breath hitched, her body tightening in response to the way his fingers slid over his lips, the subtle yet unmistakable hunger in his movements.

Vishal: "I can still taste it... from my fingers."


Afrah gasped softly, her body reacting against her will. "Vishal, stop it," she said, the words almost coming out as a moan, her voice trembling with the effort to stay composed.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his hand finding her waist, pulling her close. His lips crashed onto hers, the kiss immediately deepening, slow and intoxicating. It was as if they were devouring each other, exploring, claiming, with a hunger that neither of them could suppress. 

They were oblivious to everything around them—the bustling street, the people walking by, the onlookers who may have witnessed their kiss. It didn’t matter. The only thing that existed in that moment was the feel of their lips against each other, the wet sounds of their kiss echoing in the air, and the heat that was rising between them, building, relentless.

Afrah’s lips parted slightly, her breath coming in short gasps as her mind raced, a flicker of awareness bringing her to her senses. She glanced around, noticing the people around them, the prying eyes.

Afrah: "Vishal!" She whispered urgently, pulling away just enough to speak.

Vishal’s eyes gleamed with intensity, his lips still hovering near hers, barely restrained. "I want my kiss, Afrah," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

She closed her eyes, heart hammering in her chest. She was torn between the burning desire that swelled inside her and the fear of being caught. "Get in the car, please," she whispered, voice barely audible. "You can have it in the car."

Vishal didn’t need any more encouragement. His grin deepened, and without another word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the car.


Inside the car, a thick silence filled the air, heavy with unspoken tension. Afrah’s gaze flickered to Vishal, her heart pounding as she took in his strong, chiseled features, his expression unreadable yet filled with something dark and intense. She watched his hands on the steering wheel, veins tracing over his skin, his grip firm and steady. There was something both comforting and electrifying in that strength, and it sent a thrill through her—a blend of excitement and nerves.

The quiet was almost unbearable, each passing second heightening her anticipation. She was on edge, feeling a growing pull toward him, wondering when he would make his move, and how it would feel to be lost in that moment with him. Outside, the streets had emptied, the darkness settling in around them, broken only by the faint glow of street lamps casting soft, golden light across the car’s interior.

Vishal finally pulled the car to a stop. He turned to her, his gaze holding hers in a way that made her breath hitch. His eyes traced over her face, lingering on her lips before moving back up to meet her gaze, igniting something deep inside her. Afrah felt her pulse quicken, each beat echoing in the silence, and she knew he could sense her anticipation.

Without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek before trailing down to her jaw. His hand was warm, sending a spark of heat through her skin. He leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers, and the space between them felt charged, alive. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the moment, waiting for him to close the gap and ignite the fire building between them.



With just a touch, she melted, a soft moan escaping her lips. She tried to say something, but he silenced her with a finger, pressing it gently against her mouth. His hand moved slowly to her face, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, his touch sending shivers through her. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth that spread from her heart, sinking deeper until it pooled between her thighs. 

Turning his hand, he brushed a fingertip over her lips, tracing them softly, igniting a deep ache with each gentle stroke.

He withdrew his fingers, leaning closer, and her eyelids drooped in instinctive anticipation. She waited, her breath catching, but his lips didn’t meet hers right away. He hovered there, his mouth just a breath away from her skin, heightening the anticipation. Then, finally, he kissed her—soft and gentle at first, but as his lips parted and his tongue brushed over hers, she felt the hunger coiled within him, restrained but unmistakable.


In a single heartbeat, his hands found her waist, guiding her to turn before he gently pulled her over to his seat, pressing her back against his chest. She could feel his warmth enveloping her, his heartbeat steady and strong. One of his hands wrapped around her waist, the other lowering until it rested at the edge of her skirt, fingertips grazing her bare skin as he slowly lifted the fabric, his touch sending shivers up her spine.

"God, you’re so beautiful," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin, every word dripping with awe and desire.


Now, she was nestled on his lap, her bare legs stretched out across the other seat, every inch of her skin exposed under the dim light. Her skirt had ridden up, pooling around her waist, leaving her thighs bare to his gaze. His eyes traced the smooth, soft skin of her legs, drinking in the sight of her, his hand resting on her thigh, warm and firm. The contrast of his rough fingers against her softness was electric, every inch of exposed skin calling out for his touch.

His rough fingers slowly traced the soft, milky skin of her thighs, moving upwards with deliberate slowness, teasing her, yet stopping just before reaching their destination. His finger circled the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, the touch light but insistent, drawing out a trembling breath from her.



"So soft," he whispered, his voice husky and thick with desire.

Afrah bit down on her lip, struggling to contain the tremble in her body, her breath catching as his touch set her nerves alight.



His finger played along her inner thighs like a musician strumming a guitar, teasing her with every slow, deliberate movement, but never moving toward the place she ached for. A frustrated moan escaped her lips, her body yearning for more, the tension building with every second.



Slowly, his finger reached her crotch, rubbing over the fabric of her panties. He moved it aside, pressing harder against her, the fabric drenched with her arousal. She could feel her fluids starting to trickle down her inner thighs. Flicking his wrist, he traced her wetness with the tip of his fingers, and it didn’t take long for her labored breathing to transform into a series of soft moans.


He runs his index finger over the length of her pussy, his touch so soft and maddening that she can barely think straight. He was right; this really helped to silence her conscious mind. When his finger finally finds her clit, he begins circling it smoothly, and a soft moan escapes her lips. Then, moving quickly, he flattens the palm of his hand against her, pressing firmly. She gasps, and as she does, he parts her inner lips with one finger, slowly pushing it in.


His other hand finds her breast. She sighs as she feels the cups drooping over her breasts, her nipples hardening, desperate to be set free. He runs his hand up the side of her body once more, stretching his fingers wide before cupping the lower curve of her tits. She closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as he squeezes her soft mounds, the flesh molding to his fingers smoothly. His fingers trace the curve of her breasts, brushing against her hard, rosy tips. “I like that.” He squeezes both breasts harder this time, and she lets out another sharp gasp. He pinches her right nipple between his thumb and index finger, while his other hand was playing with her pussy. 


Hissing through gritted teeth, she feels her insides burning as he pushes his finger all the way in her pussy. Reaching for her clit with his thumb, he begins fingering her while rubbing there. She thrusts back against him, eager to feel his body pressed tightly against hers. Her mind almost explodes as she feels his hard cock, its shape fitting perfectly between her ass cheeks, even bigger than she imagined.



She doesn’t have the time—or brainpower—to keep thinking about how huge his cock is. Vishal begins fingering her so fast that all conscious thought fades away. His thumb circles her clit in a frenetic rhythm, and she can already feel her pussy tightening around his index finger. Upping the intensity, he slides another finger inside and moves them both even faster. With her eyes still closed, she moans loudly, and then fireworks explode behind her closed eyelids. “OH! It’s so—” She trails off, a high-voltage current racing up her spine and striking her brain in mere milliseconds.

But suddenly, he stops his fingers.She moaned in frustration as he stopped.

He pulled his finger out of her pussy, glistening with her arousal, and brought it close to her face. She could smell her own scent, thick and intoxicating.

He whispered, "Look how wet you are."

Then, without hesitation, he brought his finger to his mouth, licking it clean.


He lifted her off his lap, guiding her gently onto the other seat. As he leaned it back, the dim streetlight highlighted the flush on her cheeks, her breathing quickening in anticipation beneath his gaze.

She lay still, holding her breath as she watched the grin on Vishal’s face widen, his thumbs moving up and down over her groin. Moving closer, he parted his lips, lowering his mouth to the wet heat between her thighs. “Oh God,” she moaned, feeling his lips press firmly against her pussy even through the thin fabric of her panty, the sensation was amazing. He sucked hard, and warmth flooded outward from her core, sinful flames igniting beneath her skin and spreading through every inch of her body.

His eyes stay fixed on her panty, his fingers moving carefully over her outer thighs. Slowly,
he dragged them down her legs, as if stripping away her last piece of modesty and any hint of resistance.She lay back down, she’s completely exposed.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />


Now completely bare, she felt a shy vulnerability, even in the dim light, and instinctively crossed her thighs to shield herself from his lustful gaze.

He placed his hands firmly on her thighs, gently parting them despite her weak resistance, exposing his prize.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her thigh, his lips sending a jolt through her smooth skin. Slowly, he trailed his kisses upward, his movements purposeful, his intent unmistakable.


His lips pressed softly against the tender skin of her inner thighs, warm and unhurried. Each kiss was slow, his mouth lingering just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her sensitive skin. His lips moved in smooth, delicate caresses, trailing upward with a tantalizing rhythm that sent tiny shivers radiating through her body. The sensation was a mix of warmth and electricity, making her skin tingle with anticipation as his kisses drew closer, heightening every inch of her awareness.


Moving slowly, he came closer with parted lips, lowering his mouth to the wet heat between her thighs. “Oh God,” she moaned as his lips pressed firmly against her thighs , and he sucked hard, sending a deep warmth radiating from her core, sinful flames igniting beneath her skin and spreading through her entire body.

Let’s see how delicious you really are," Vishal whispers, before lowering his mouth to her bare pussy. He teases her clit with the tip of his tongue, pressing down gently before sliding it lower to her inner lips. He laps at them eagerly, his tongue moving up and down at a steady rhythm. He presses his mouth against her, the wet warmth of his tongue swirling, sucking eagerly, pulling both her inner lips into his mouth with a hunger that makes her breath catch. His tongue moves with practiced precision, relentless and skilled, each movement sending a jolt of sensation straight to her core.


"Her hand moved involuntarily to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she moaned softly, 'Ahhh, God, ah, mmmm,' the sound of her voice vibrating in the stillness of the car. Her thighs, slick with warmth and tension, pressed against his head, the sensation of his breath sending jolts of electricity through her body. Every touch, every movement felt amplified, the air thick with her need as her body reacted instinctively to his touch."


She runs her fingers through his hair, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes shallow, uneven breaths. Her chest rises and falls erratically with each gasp, the air thick with the pulse of desire. Throwing her head back, she surrenders to the moment, the world beyond slipping away as she loses herself in the sensation. The past and future fade into nothingness, leaving only the present. When it comes to achieving the joys of enlightenment, there’s nothing better than a man who knows how to use his tongue.


She moans softly, more to herself than to him, as she lifts one leg, dbanging both over his shoulder. With a deep breath, she lets herself fall back, her upper body supported only by her elbows. Still working on her clit, he starts ravaging her pussy with a kind of fury she had no idea he was capable of. He’s eating her out as if her pussy is the most delicious thing in the world, and that’s enough to make her head spin.


She sway her hips from side to side, rubbing her pussy against his face, and he matches every movement of her with a flick of his tongue, hitting all the right spots. Then he rests one hand on my thigh, while the other moves to my clit, stroking it gently with two fingers as his mouth works.

His fingers keep on rubbing my clit, electricity darting from there and climbing up her spine, and she can almost hear the whistle of fireworks in the distance - and soon enough these fireworks are going to go off inside her
 skull.

Then, moving fast, he replaces his fingers with his mouth. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he starts sucking it and jabbing at it with the tip of his tongue; the fingers he had on her clit are now parting her pussy lips.He slid his index finger inside of me, curling it upward and taking it all the way to her G-spot. He presses against it hard, and then slides one more finger inside her pussy, the pressure on her G-spot intensifying.


Oh, fuck, Vishal," she moans, her hands gripping his hair as she keeps his head trapped between her thighs. She had no idea a woman could experience this much pleasure. If she'd known he could make her feel this way, she would’ve let him between her thighs a long time ago...

She could only imagine how it would feel to have his huge cock inside her, stretching her wide. No! She couldn’t let her mind go there, or she’d risk giving in. As much as she craved it, she knew there was too much at stake.


“Oh, that feels so… Oh, God,” she pant as he starts sliding his fingers in and out of her, building a rhythm. At first, he moves his fingers kindly, but lust soon takes over their coming and going motion. Before she knows it, he’s flicking his wrist so fast that she can’t even tell if his fingers are going in or out of her pussy.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

“oh ahhh ,ammi ,oh mmm ,pls don't -- ammiii” sentence remains unfinished. Lightning explodes up her spine, and the moment it hits her brain it simply obliterates her capacity for speech. Her mouth is open, but the only thing she capable of right now is moaning. And that’s exactly what she dis - with her head thrown back, she let a loud moan escape from between her lips.



She presses her legs together, so tightly it feels like she might suffocate him between her thighs. But she can’t help it. He’s unlocked a mind-bending orgasm inside her, and now her body is so tense, she’s no longer sure she’s in control.


She lay on the seat for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The pleasure still lingered, radiating through her body like a warm aftershock, and every inch of her felt both light and weightless. Her thighs trembled with the aftereffects, her skin still tingling with the intensity. Her mind was foggy, the world around her spinning as if she were drifting through a dream.

She looked at his face, her breath shallow as she noticed his lips glistening, still wet from her own juices. A surge of desire rushed through her, her body craving his touch once again. The question lingered in her mind—would she let him take it all the way? The thought pulsed through her, tempting yet uncertain. But before she could give in to the flood of emotions, the sharp sound of her phone ringing cut through the moment, pulling her back to reality.


It was Sohail. She caught her breath for a moment, trying to calm the racing thoughts in her mind. After a beat, she picked up her phone. His voice came through, casual yet concerned. “Did you reach home?”

She quickly composed herself, her voice steady as she replied, “Yeah, I just got home. You know how the traffic is.”

He seemed convinced by her answer, his voice still laced with concern but softened by the familiarity of their conversation. She quickly added, "I'll call you later," her voice steady despite the lingering tension in the car. 


She looked at Vishal again, her heart racing, the warmth of the moment still swirling around her. Without thinking, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was intense, hungry, and familiar, and she could taste herself on his lips.

She pulled back slightly, her breath quickening as she felt something stir beneath her hand, pressing against her palm from where it rested on his thigh. It felt impossibly big, and the heat between them intensified. She parted her lips from his, gazing at him with a mix of desire and curiosity, her mind racing with possibilities.

But with a sudden sense of clarity, she took control, steadying her breath. "You got your kiss," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. "Now drop me home."

Vishal’s smirk only deepened, the unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.


Vishal didn’t protest or say anything. He simply smiled, a quiet, knowing smile, and turned back to his seat. Without another word, he started the car and drove her home. The ride was filled with an unspoken tension, the silence between them thick and charged with the aftermath of what had just transpired. When they finally reached her home, he parked the car, but neither of them moved right away. The moment lingered, heavy with unexpressed emotions and desires, before he broke the silence with a simple, "Take care."

She nodded, her heart still racing as she stepped out of the car, the weight of everything hanging between them as she made her way to her door.

[Zoz34]

awesome update but don't let them fuck soon let her return the favour to him vishal should take her slowly letting her shed all her inhibition one by one like now she let him fingering her next she should give him blowjob with little hesitation and next he made her cum without going down on her like made her cum only sucking her boob this is all i think while reading this update if you like it take it not no problem right whats in your mind

Thanks for suggestions brother,I will keep that in mind,
main focus of the story is Afrah embracing her sexuality without any inhibition

[Zoz34]

awesome update u r writing skill and taught process is excellent the best stories recent times plz update u next post while update the stories

Thanks for your kind words , comments like this make my day and keep me motivated to write more , thanks

[Zoz34]

Afrah and her mother walked through the bustling marketplace, the aroma of spices and freshly fried snacks wafting through the air.
They  entered a  bridal shop.

While her mother’s eyes scanned through the rows of intricate designs, she stopped at a light green Anarkali suit displayed prominently on a mannequin.

"This would look beautiful on you, Afrah," her ammi said.



Ammi:“Your wedding will be perfect, Afrah. We will not leave anything undone,”  

Afrah nodded quietly, her fingers absentmindedly trailing over the delicate embroidery of the light green Anarkali she was holding.  

Ammi:“You are lucky Sohail is a good man. He will keep you happy. A good husband is a blessing, and I know he will take care of you.”  

Afrah forced a small smile, the words sitting heavy in her chest.

Ammi; “I also want you to remember, Afrah… A good marriage is built on mutual effort. I want you to perform your wifely duties with sincerity. Be a good wife to him. It’s important.”  


"Good wife." The words echoed in her head, louder than her mother's voice in the bustling shop. Would she be a good wife to Sohail?  

The thought was a storm in her mind, crashing against the memory of just a few days ago. Her legs had been wrapped tightly around Vishal's shoulders, her thighs pressing his head between them, her hand tangled in his hair as he devoured her with his mouth.  

Vishal. He had kissed her, touched her, and done things to her body that were supposed to be reserved for her future husband, Sohail. She hadn't kissed Sohail yet, but Vishal had not only kissed her many times but, just a couple of days ago, had tasted her with pussy his mouth.

The worst part wasn’t just that she had let Vishal do all of it. It was that she had enjoyed it. Her body had craved him, her thoughts had betrayed her, and now, the guilt clung to her like a second skin.  

Her mother’s voice broke through the haze. “Afrah, what do you think of this one?”  

Afrah blinked, forcing herself to focus on the outfit her mother held up. She smiled faintly, nodding, though her mind was far away.

The thought struck her like a lightning bolt: "What would Ammi think if she knew?"

Her mother’s reaction was easy to imagine. The disappointment in her eyes, the anger in her voice, the sheer heartbreak of knowing her daughter had done something so forbidden. A man her mother would never approve of, a man who wasn’t her fiancé.  

Afrah shivered, not from the chill of the shop’s air conditioning but from the weight of her own thoughts. She could almost hear her mother's voice, scolding her, calling her 'beghairat" for shaming the family. Her stomach twisted at the idea.  

And yet, despite the fear and guilt, she couldn’t stop herself when it came to Vishal. He made her lose control, made her forget who she was supposed to be. Around him, she didn’t feel like Sohail’s dutiful fiancée, the girl her parents had raised to be a good wife. Around him, she felt alive, reckless, and consumed by desires she hadn’t known she had.  

He had made her do things she never thought she’d allow anyone,things that felt dirty, forbidden. And she’d enjoyed them. God help her, but she had.  

Her cheeks flushed as she thought of the night in his car. If Sohail’s call hadn’t interrupted them, if they weren’t confined by the cramped space of the vehicle... would she have given herself to him completely?  

Afrah didn’t know. And that terrified her. Because a part of her knew that with Vishal, she was capable of crossing lines she never thought she’d approach.Her thought interrupt by a  buzz on her phone.



She got a text from Vishal:  

Vishal:What are you doing?

 

Afrah:Shopping with mom at Chandni Chowk.  



Vishal: What are u shopping?

Afarh: not shoping but just browsing , through the lengha store.

Afrah’s fingers tightened around her phone, her heart racing. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on her. It felt almost illegal, chatting like this with Vishal—her boss, the man who had been between her thighs just days ago—while standing in a shop filled with lehengas and sarees meant for her wedding to Sohail.  

Her ammi:Afrah, look at this one. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Afrah nodded automatically, her mind far from the glittering fabric. All she could think about was the stark contrast between the life she was supposed to live and the secret she was desperately trying to keep hidden.



Her mother held up the light green Anarkali dress, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Afrah, this one will look stunning on you. Try it, beta.”  



Afrah hesitated, glancing at her ammi.She went to  the trial room.  

As she stood in the confined space, dbanging the green Anarkali over herself, her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen.  

Vishal:Send me pics of you in the dress.

She bit her lip, torn between the absurdity of the situation and the strange thrill of his demand.  


Afrah stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the green Anarkali so it dbangd perfectly over her curves. The soft fabric flowed elegantly, hugging her in all the right places. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at her phone. Her heart raced as she unlocked it, her fingers trembling slightly.  

She took some snaps of her with the anarkali dress.

Her mind was conflicted. "Why am I even doing this?" she thought, yet she didn’t stop. With each picture, a part of her wanted to see his reaction.  

After snapping a few more, she stared at the gallery of photos, debating whether to send them. The memory of his lips on her and the messages he’d sent earlier lingered in her mind, making her pulse quicken. But she shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady herself.  

“Afrah, are you done?” her ammi called from outside, pulling her back to reality.  

“Yes, just a minute!” she replied, quickly tucking her phone away and stepping out to show her mother the dress.

Her ammi clasped her hands together, a wide smile spreading across her face as Afrah stepped out of the trial room.  

“This is it,” her mother declared, her voice filled with excitement. “The green Anarkali suits you perfectly. You look stunning, beta. Sohail will be speechless when he sees you in this.”  

Afrah offered a small smile, trying to focus on her mother’s enthusiasm instead of the turmoil brewing inside her.

Slipping back into the trial room, her hand automatically reached for her phone. Against her better judgment, she scrolled to Vishal’s chat and attached the pictures she had taken earlier.  

She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button.

"Delivered."





Vishal: "God, you look so gorgeous. But I’ve imagined you in something sexier, like a lehenga."

Afrah: "Why is that?"

Vishal: "A figure like yours deserves to flaunt a little. Besides, with a lehenga, it’d be so much easier to reach your lips…"

Her cheeks burned as she read his text, a flurry of emotions overwhelming her.

Afrah’s fingers hesitated over the keypad, her heart pounding. Part of her wanted to shut down the conversation, but another part—a dangerous, thrilling part—wanted to know what he’d say next. Against her better judgment, she typed back.  

Afrah: "You’re impossible."


Quickly locking her phone, she stepped out of the trial room.

Afrah sat beside her ammi, pretending to admire the intricate embroidery of a bridal lehenga as her fingers tapped rapidly on her phone under the table.  
Her phone buzzed,

Vishal:"I can still taste you, Afrah. God, you tasted like nectar."

Her cheeks flushed, and she immediately typed back.  

Afrah:"Good, because it was a one-time thing."

Her phone buzzed almost instantly.  

Vishal:"Oh, don’t be so cruel. Have some mercy."

She bit her lip to keep from smiling, stealing a quick glance at her ammi, who was chatting with the shopkeeper about a lehenga.  

Afrah:"You’re a naughty boy, Vishal."

Vishal:"And naughty boys don’t get anything?"  

Her fingers paused over the keypad, a smirk playing on her lips. She typed back, feeling a mix of excitement and guilt.  

Afrah:"Exactly."

She should’ve felt ashamed, flirting with her boss via text while sitting next to her mother, of all people, in a shop filled with wedding dresses meant for her future with Sohail. But the thrill was undeniable, and it coursed through her like a forbidden current.  

Her ammi suddenly turned to her. “What are you doing on your phone, Afrah? Look at this l lehenga”  

Afrah jumped, quickly locking her phone and putting on a sheepish expression. “Sorry, Ammi, I’ll focus.”  

Her mother nodded, satisfied, and Afrah reached for the lehenga, feeling her pulse quicken again as her phone vibrated in her lap.  


Afrah felt her fingers trembling as she read Vishal’s latest message, her breath catching in her throat.  

Vishal:"I want to taste it again, Afrah—lick it, kiss it, bite it—with your soft thighs wrapped around my head."

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pressed her lips together, trying to keep her composure as her ammi held up another dress for her opinion.  

“Afrah, are you even paying attention?” her mother asked, frowning.  

She nodded quickly. “Yes, Ammi, it’s beautiful.”  

But her focus wasn’t on the lehenga or her mother anymore. Wetness crept between her thighs, and she cursed herself for letting Vishal get under her skin like this. She should stop. She had to stop. But somehow, she found herself typing a reply.  

Afrah:"Then you’ll have to beg. On your knees."

Her pulse quickened the moment she sent it, and her palms grew clammy. She stared at the screen, watching for his response.  

It came almost immediately.  

Vishal:"Oh, sure, I’ll be on my knees if that’s what you want to play. Fine, I’ll beg. But I’ll get what I want in the end. Wear a skirt tomorrow to the office."

Afrah’s heart raced, her fingers hovering over the screen as she reread his message. What had she done? What game had she started?  

She tried to shake off the heat rising inside her, glancing nervously at her ammi. Her mother was busy chatting with the shopkeeper, oblivious to the storm brewing within her daughter.  

Afrah swallowed hard, slipping her phone into her bag. Her mind whirled with thoughts of tomorrow and what wearing that skirt could lead to.


In the office:
Afrah sat at her desk, her fingers absently tapping on the keyboard as her mind wandered. She glanced down at the long, hand-block-printed blue skirt she’d carefully chosen this morning. It flowed gracefully around her legs, modest yet alluring in its own way. Her simple white T-shirt added to her understated elegance, but the outfit wasn’t what had her nerves tingling.  

She was waiting.  

Her heart raced every time someone walked past her cubicle, her anticipation making her stomach churn. What if he didn’t make a move? Or worse, what if he did?  

Her thoughts flickered back to a few nights ago—the way his mouth had worked magic, pulling sensations from her body she hadn’t thought possible. She felt a heat rising within her, pooling low in her abdomen. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her thighs pressing together as wetness began to build.  

Stop thinking about it, she told herself, trying to focus on the document open on her screen. But her mind wouldn’t listen. The excitement, the fear, the forbidden thrill of it all—it was overwhelming.  

I’ll only let him kiss me,she decided firmly, clinging to the thought like a lifeline. Nothing more.

But even as she tried to set boundaries in her mind, her body betrayed her. Her heart raced, her breaths came quicker, and she knew deep down that if Vishal pushed just a little, her resolve would crumble.  

And then she heard it—a knock on the edge of her cubicle. Her breath hitched as she turned to see him standing there, his dark eyes locked onto hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.  

“Afrah,” Vishal said, his voice smooth and low, “you have a minute?”  

Her heart thudded against her chest, and she nodded, standing on shaky legs. “Of course,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.  

As she followed him to his office, her mind raced with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Afrah’s heart raced as she stepped into Vishal’s cabin, the air charged with unspoken tension. He stood by the large glass window, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, gazing at the city sprawled below. The skyline shimmered under the afternoon sun, but it was his commanding presence that drew her attention.  

“Come here,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a quiet authority.  

She hesitated, then walked over, stopping a few steps behind him.  

“Look at how small the world seems from up here,” Vishal said, nodding toward the view.  

Afrah moved closer, her eyes following his gaze. She stared down at the bustling streets far below, the people and cars reduced to mere dots.  

“You have all the potential to be at the top,” Vishal said, his tone thoughtful, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced at her outfit.  

Afrah frowned slightly, unsure of where this conversation was heading. She thought he’d be quick to make his move, to devour her like last time. But instead, his words were laced with something deeper—something she couldn’t quite decipher.  

“At the top, you can be free,” he continued, his voice softening as he moved closer to her side. “Full of yourself, doing what you please, without hesitation or fear of repercussions.”  

His words hung in the air as he stepped behind her. Afrah felt a shiver course through her body as his hand brushed her waist, his touch deliberate yet restrained. She stood frozen, staring out of the glass, her breath quickening as he leaned closer.  

“With all my money and influence, I feel powerful,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate now, “but you… you have power over me, Afrah. And you know that.”  

Her stomach twisted at his confession, her mind a whirl of emotions. Before she could respond, he gently turned her away from the window, guiding her to his chair.  

“Sit,” he commanded softly.  

Confused but unable to resist, she did as he said, sinking into the plush leather seat. Vishal lowered himself to his knees in front of her, an action that sent her pulse racing.  

“You know what powerful people do, Afrah?” he asked, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “They play people at their whim.”  

He placed his hands on either side of her chair, his expression both serious and teasing.  

“Like you have over me.”  

Slowly, he reached for her feet, his fingers brushing against her ankles as he slipped off her shoes. Afrah’s breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t deny the thrill of the moment, but a part of her still wondered how far this would go.


Vishal’s eyes never left hers as he brought her pinkish, fair toe to his mouth, his lips brushing against her delicate skin. His tongue flicked over her toe, tracing slow, deliberate circles that sent an unexpected jolt of sensation through her body.  

Afrah froze, her breath hitching as she watched him. She was confused, aroused, and utterly mesmerized by the sight of her boss—this powerful, handsome man—treating her toe as if it were the most precious thing in the world.  

His tongue teased and played with her, his movements unhurried, almost reverent. A soft gasp escaped her lips, her mind unable to process how something so simple could feel so intimate, so electric.  

She looked at him, her cheeks burning with both embarrassment and desire. This was Vishal—the confident, dominant stud everyone admired—kneeling before her, indulging in her like she was a rare delicacy.  

Her body betrayed her confusion, heat pooling in her core as his lips pressed a lingering kiss on her toe before meeting her gaze with a smirk that sent shivers down her spine.


Afrah’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she gazed down at him. Vishal, the confident, powerful man who commanded respect and authority from everyone, was kneeling before her, his expression raw with desire. The sight sent a wave of conflicting emotions coursing through her—empowerment mingled with an undeniable arousal that made her thighs clench involuntarily.  

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto hers as he spoke, his voice low and pleading. “May I kiss your pussy?”  

Her entire body shivered at his words, heat pooling between her legs. The idea of such a dominant man begging at her feet stirred something deep within her, a sense of control she’d never felt before. And yet, her arousal threatened to overwhelm her, every fiber of her being aching to feel his mouth on her again.  

She swallowed hard, her fingers clutching the armrest of the chair. Words failed her as her mind spun with indecision, the tension in the room thick enough to suffocate her. Could she resist him? Did she even want to?  

Vishal remained there, waiting for her answer, his gaze unwavering, his desire palpable. The moment stretched between them, electric and intoxicating, as she struggled with the power she now held over him—and the power he had over her body.



“Yes,” she moaned, her voice trembling with both hesitation and desire, surrendering completely to the moment.  

Vishal’s hands moved with purpose, his fingertips brushing along her thighs as he reached for the hem of her skirt. Slowly, he pushed the fabric higher, his deliberate pace igniting every nerve in her body. Her breathing grew uneven as he bunched the skirt around her waist, fully exposing her thighs to his intense gaze.  

He paused, his fingers finding the edge of her panty. His dark eyes flicked up to hers, silently asking for permission. She gave him the faintest nod, her chest heaving as anticipation coiled tightly inside her.  

With deliberate slowness, he hooked his fingers around the delicate fabric and slid it down her legs, letting it linger briefly at her knees before pulling it completely free. Holding the garment in his hand, he brought it to his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply.  

The gesture left her stunned, her cheeks burning as a fresh wave of heat surged through her body. She bit her lip, watching as he savored the scent with a satisfied smirk. “You smell irresistible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise, before setting the panty aside.  

Now, she sat in his chair, her skirt pushed up to her waist, her most private self completely exposed. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and she felt the undeniable wetness between her thighs—a silent confession of her arousal.  

Vishal knelt before her, his hands resting firmly on her thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, teasing circles on her skin. He leaned in, his face inches away, his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh. His eyes burned with desire as he gazed up at her, his lips curling into a confident smirk.  

“You’re perfect, Afrah,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Absolutely perfect.”


She said nothing as he let his thumbs rest lightly over her waist, the pressure of his fingers on her inner thighs causing her pussy to burn with desire. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady her racing breath. Her fingers curled around the headrest behind him, the smooth leather pressing against her skin, grounding her as the tension built within her.

That's when Vishal grabs her by the waist and forces her thighs open, flattening the palm of his right hand over her aching pussy"

He rubs her pussy in gentle circles, his movements hypnotizing, and she presses her head against the chair as he does it. He runs his index finger down the length of her aching pussy a few times, then finally rests his fingertip over her clit, gently pressing down on it. She feels electricity crackling up her spine, her heart pumping adrenaline into her bloodstream as her thoughts scatter. She can barely think right now. Sinful images flood her mind, each portraying something so deliciously wicked that she has to take another deep breath to try and push these thoughts into some hidden corner.

As he speaks, he rubs her clit with the precision of a man that has more experience than the common mortal, and she let a purr tumble out of her mouth.

he lets his index finger fall from her clit, his finger running down the length of her pussy lips, parting her folds and sliding his finger inside her pussy, doing it so slowly that her mind almost explodes. When he presses his fingertip against her G-spot, her eyes start rolling in their orbits, and she feels her insides clenching hard, already anticipating a violent orgasm.

Her thighs began to tremble, the pressure building as she was on the edge of release. A soft, strained moan slipped from her lips, but she quickly tried to suppress it, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Just as she was about to lose control, his hand suddenly stopped, pulling away with maddening precision. She whimpered, her body aching for more, her pulse racing in frustration as she looked at him, needing him to push her over the edge.


Their eyes met, a silent exchange of unspoken desire. Her body ached with lust, every muscle in her being screaming for release. Her eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him, silently begging for him to continue, to push her over the edge. The tension in the air was thick, and she could feel every inch of her body trembling with need, her skin burning under his gaze.

He brings his hand back to her pussy, letting his thumb press against her clit before sliding one more finger inside her. Flicking his wrist, he begins fingering her, fast and hard from the start, while at the same time stroking her clit with a controlled fury.



"Feeling lightheaded, she rocks her hips softly, the coming and going motion of her body matching the way he pistons his fingers into her. 'Your pussy needs me, Afrah. Look how wet it is,' he whispers, and his words are like poison: they infiltrate her mind, planting seeds of desire. She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from succumbing to his spell.


“You like it, don’t you? You’re a fucking tease, aren’t you?” he asks.

He fingers her so hard that, even though she opens her mouth to reply, no words come out. She just lets out a violent sigh, her voice quivering like an out-of-tune violin. “Yes, you are,” he answers his own question, handling her pussy and clit masterfully. So masterfully that she already feels that sweet pressure building inside her, pinching her skin from the inside and filling her muscles with raw tension. “Oh, God, oh, God,” she repeats over and over again, her mind going blank as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes over it. Right now, if you asked where she is… she wouldn’t be able to answer.She’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t even know if she can say she’s fully conscious — she’s walking that thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness, stuck in limbo while ecstasy crushes her from both sides. And it feels absolutely perfect.


His finger playing her pussy  like a masterful musician finding the perfect note. Every touch sent electric shivers of pleasure racing through her body. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the moans threatening to escape, her skin burning under his touch. Her mind spun, her body on the edge of surrender, ready to break free. Just as she teetered on the brink of release, he pulled away, his fingers halting abruptly, leaving her suspended in a maddening ache of need.




She whimpered, her eyes burning with frustration, irritation, and a simmering anger laced with lust as she stared at him. His gaze, however, was fixed on his fingers, glistening with the evidence of her desire, a silent power shift between them. The sight of it only fueled her need, her chest rising and falling with the tension that hummed between them, as she silently fumed and craved more.

Vishal: "Look how wet you are for me, and yet you stop me from tasting it." His voice is hoarse and filled with lust. "I want this pussy. I need it."

She grabbed his head, pulling it toward her inner thighs, frustration and lust mixing in her eyes.


“How much do you want it? How much do you need it?” she asked, her voice thick with anger and raw lust, eyes burning with a hunger that matched the fire coursing through her. Her body quivered, aching for him to give in, her frustration mounting with every second.
“More than I need the air to breathe, Afrah,” he says.



“You said you wanted to  kiss my pussy didn’t you?  Then kiss it” she ask him, my heart feeling like a war drum inside my chest.

She placed her heel against the seat next to his face, tangling her fingers in his hair and yanking on it, pulling him toward her as she moved her hips forward. Taking control, she let him press his face against her wet pussy without wasting a second. She threw her head back, a moan escaping as Vishal’s tongue pushed past her inner lips, jabbing at her insides. More than kissing or sucking, he devoured her with an urgent need, like a man who had just discovered the most marvelous thing in the world.

Vishal’s tongue glided over her wetness with slow, deliberate strokes, the slick sounds of tounge and pussy in the charged silence of the room. His eyes, dark and smoldering, locked onto hers, holding her captive in his gaze. Each flick of his tongue was unhurried, tracing the delicate folds like an artist savoring his masterpiece. The heat of his breath mixed with the cool air, sending shivers across her skin as he explored her with an intoxicating mix of precision and hunger. The room seemed to blur around them, the only focus the fire igniting between his touch and her trembling body.



His hands gripped her ass cheeks, and he opened his mouth wide, crushing it with hunger.Oh, Vishal,” she sighs, moving her hips and rubbing her pussy against his face, the tip of his nose brushing against her clit. His hands are still on her ass cheeks, his fingers digging into her flesh, keeping her in place. “I… I… Oh, God, I love it,” she moans, yanking on his hair so hard she’s surprised she didn’t tear any out. He doesn’t respond — after all, his mouth is busy — but she can almost feel his answer: ‘Of course you love it.’ Gritting her teeth, she keeps thrusting against his face. Still gripping her ass, he spreads her cheeks wide and caresses her crack with one finger, running it up and down, always slowing down when he passes over her hole. Her mind starts to boil with anticipation, wondering what his next move will be.

His tongue moved with fervor, lapping up her juices like a cat savoring milk, each stroke deliberate and unyielding. His dark, piercing eyes never left hers, holding her in a trance as his hands gripped her soft thighs firmly, anchoring her in place. The contrast of his strength and the tender caress of his tongue sent waves of pleasure rippling through her, her body responding to his every move.


Now holding his hand still, he presses his index finger against her asshole and, slowly and carefully, begins to slide it in. She holds her breath as he does, her whole body tensing up so much that her muscles feel as if they’re about to pop like a balloon. Sliding his finger in and out of her ass with a gentle rhythm, he then takes his other hand and presses down on her clit. He strokes it in time with the pace at which he’s fingering her, and even his tongue seems to slow down so that all of him moves in perfect sync.


She couldn’t believe this was happening right now. She was in her boss's cabin, her thighs around his face, as Vishal, a man who could have any woman he wanted, used his mouth on her. All of this was happening in his office, behind closed doors, while outside, no one had any idea what was going on inside the room.


“I think I’m gonna—Oh God! Ammi!” she whimpered, desperate not to get caught, a high-voltage current surging through her body, charging her like a battery. Inside her skull, a storm raged, scattering her sanity and throwing it against the walls of her mind. She felt a ball of fire grow in the pit of her stomach, then explode like a supernova, its flaming arms spreading across her body. “OH GOD!” she shouted, her throat raw from the effort. “SO GOOD!” she continued, her muscles tense before succumbing to a series of spasms. She remained like that for what felt like an eternity, the orgasm completely shattering her sense of time, before collapsing on top of Vishal as the flames of ecstasy slowly died out inside her.

Rolling to the side, she lay on the floor, her head resting against his. She kept her eyes closed, taking long, deep breaths, her lungs feeling as if they were on fire and ice at the same time.




To be continue.....

[Zoz34]

Afrah pov:

After she climaxed and slowly recovered, she glanced at Vishal. His mouth glistened with beads of her liquid, and a rush of shyness washed over her as she looked away, her eyes darting to the floor. She noticed him searching for her panties, his hand finally gripping them. With a smirk, he looked up at her and said, "This is mine."

The rest of the day at the office, she was pantyless, the absence of the familiar fabric making her feel exposed, each movement reminding her of the encounter. 



When Afrah returned home, she was greeted by the sound of her ammi and khala chatting in the living room. No this the last thing she wanted.

Ammi: Hey, look who’s here! 


Afrah: I need to change. Her voice was almost too quiet, but she couldn’t sit with them like this.

Khala: Just sit for a minute, talk to your khala. I have to leave in fifteen minutes.

Afrah could feel the heat of her body from earlier, her mind still replaying the forbidden act that had taken place in Vishal’s office. She wanted nothing more than to escape, to change into something more comfortable, but the thought of sitting with her mother and khala in this state—pantyless, still feeling the aftershocks of what had happened—made her skin burn.



Afrah hesitated. Every part of her screamed to run to her room and get dressed, but she knew she had to sit with them. The conversation began innocently enough, but quickly shifted to her marriage.

Khala: Our daughter is so beautiful, so pure, and good. She’ll make a wonderful wife.

Ammi: Yes, she’s a perfect girl. Sohail will be a great husband—he’s a good man.

Afrah felt her cheeks flush, but it wasn’t from modesty. The words that were meant to honor her felt more like a cruel reminder of the difference between the image she had to maintain and the truth of who she was. She should have felt guilty for what had happened, for what had been taken from her today in that office. But instead, she felt the heat in her body stir again, the tension of a secret she was now living with, a secret that made everything else feel distant and unreal.

Khala: He’s lucky to have such a beautiful, obedient, and pious wife—unlike the girls of today.

Afrah forced herself to keep her expression neutral, even as her body betrayed her. She wasn’t blushing because of shyness or modesty. No, the heat she felt was the same one that had overwhelmed her earlier—an arousal tied to something forbidden, something they would never understand. The fact that they thought her so perfect, so innocent, only made the weight of the lie harder to carry.

She cursed Vishal silently in her mind. This feeling, this damn heat—it was all because of him.


The conversation between her khala and ammi faded into the background as Vishal gripped her thoughts.

Afrah blushed, her mind replaying the moment over and over again. She remembered how powerful she felt when Vishal—handsome, authoritative, and her boss—had been on his knees, begging her. His mouth had pleasured her with an intensity she hadn’t expected, devouring her as though she were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. The memory sent a wave of heat through her, and despite the people around her, her body betrayed her. She could still feel the rawness of that moment, the contrast between the power she’d felt and the sh
ame now crawling up her spine.





2 days later 

Vishal pov:

Vishal couldn’t stop thinking about her. The image of Afrah cumming on his chair played on loop in his mind. The way her body withered as his mouth sucked her clit, how her soft thighs brushed against his face, was intoxicating. There was nothing sexier than making her cum .

She was changing, turning into a vixen .

He had taken a massive risk that day, burying his face between her thighs in his office, during work hours no less. Vishal didn’t take risks like that. He had always prided himself on keeping things professional, controlled, within the limits of reason. But Afrah shattered that control.  

She made him reckless. She made him break his own rules.  


She was also slowly shedding her inhibitions, and Vishal wanted to see her fully embrace that slutty side of herself. 



But Vishal wasn’t done yet. A smirk tugged at his lips as an idea began to form. It was risky, reckless even, and the thought of getting caught should have stopped him. Vishal felt g his dick got hard. 

He knew how to have some fun, to push her limits further, and to remind her and himself that this game they were playing was far from over. At last, he picked up the phone and called. 

Afrah :Yes, Vishal?


Vishal: Could you please come to my office? 


Afrah: Of course, Vishal

Inside, she closed the door at his order, then stood in front of his desk, her hands folded, exuding her usual prim composure.  

Vishal: Come here
 he commanded, opening the drawer.  

Afrah walked around his desk.  

He took the small box out, holding it in his hand for a moment before locking his gaze on her.  

Vishal: Turn around and bend over

Afrah flinched for a second, her eyes wide with surprise ,but she went ahead with it.

Afrah did it. Vishal’s cock practically jumping out of his pants at the sight of her perfect, round ass right in front of him. 
He slowly reached for the hem of her dress, his fingers grazing her soft, smooth skin as he began lifting it. Each inch revealed more of her flawless beauty. And then, the sight came into view—her perfect, round ass, so soft and alluring.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her fair, ass was right there before him, completely bare, with no fabric to obstruct the intoxicating sight.

Unable to resist, he cupped one of her round, soft cheeks, his palm sinking slightly into her supple flesh like it was made for his touch. A quiet gasp escaped her lips.

 Without hesitation, he brought his hand down with a firm slap. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and commanding, and she jolted forward, her back arching instinctively.

A low, breathy moan escaped her.

As his hand lingered on her soft, quivering skin, his eyes drifted downward towards her glistening pussy.
Her swollen, dripping clit stood out, a throbbing beacon of desire.It was a sight that sent a rush of heat through him, his restraint fraying as primal instincts began to take over.

Vishal smiled at her action, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. 

Vishal: "You forgot panties," 
He run his fingertips over her seam, already practically dripping with her juices.


Afrah whispered, "I didn’t forget."  

More than anything, Vishal wanted to drop to his knees, suck her clit into his mouth, and bury his tongue inside her until she screamed his name, letting him drink in every drop of her sweetness. But he held back.  

----

Reaching into the box, he retrieved the vibratora sleek, spherical device with a soft silicone cord dangling from one end. It felt cool and smooth in his palm as he clicked the remote, the low hum vibrating to life.  

Leaning in, he pressed it gently against her glistening, wet lips, the sensation making her shiver. Slowly, deliberately, he guided it inside her, her body yielding to the gentle pressure. Her back arched as she leaned forward, her soft, round ass pressing against him, the curve accentuated as she braced herself against the table.  

The quiet hum of the vibrator mingled with her breathless moans, the sound growing more desperate as her movements ground her hips subtly against the table’s edge.


Vishal’s gaze stayed fixed on her, watching the scene unfold with an almost predatory intensity. Her hands clawed at the table, nails scbanging against the surface as the vibrator worked relentlessly inside her. Her body trembled, each quiver making her curves shift tantalizingly before him.  

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as her thighs rubbed together, desperate for some relief, the motion only emphasizing her helplessness. Her soft, breathy moan. ahh ummmmm escaped her lips despite her attempts to press them together, her teeth sinking into her lower lip in a futile effort to stifle the sounds.  

The way her back arched, her legs quivering, and her body surrendered completely to the sensations it was sight to behold.She was raw, unguarded, and utterly captivating, every movement a symphony of vulnerability and desire.  

He couldn’t stop thinking about how badly he wanted that to be his cock inside her, how much he craved to fuck her right there, right then. But he didn’t. He’d always enjoyed torturing himself just a little, and besides, she needed to be taken slowly—like peeling away the layers of her modesty, one at a time.


Vishal:That feel good?
He pulled the remote out of the box, snapping it shut. 

"Yes, Vishal," she replied, her fingers reaching back to touch herself, moving with a careful, exploring touch.  

 Vishal:I thought you might like getting stuffed at work .
He pulled her skirt down over her ass.


Afrah's POV :

Afrah turned around, her face betraying her emotions—a mix of pleading and vulnerability. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a sharp knock on the door made her freeze.  

Vishal: come in


Quickly, she smoothed her skirt over her hips, trying to regain her composure as the door creaked open.  

Neha:“ the meeting is about to start,”

Afrah’s heart raced, the vibration buzzing inside her making it nearly impossible to focus. She glanced at Vishal, silently begging him to do something, to stop this madness. Her pleading look didn’t seem to faze him; instead, he looked utterly unbothered, his smirk only deepening.  

Vishal: “Go with Neha to the conference room, I’ll join you in a minute.”  

Afrah’s stomach twisted. Her gaze lingered on him, a storm of emotions in her eyes—anger, lust, frustration, and a silent plea for mercy. His only response was a devilish grin that made her knees weak.  

Reluctantly, she turned and followed Neha out of the room. Each step felt like a challenge as the subtle vibrations inside her continued, her body betraying her with every slight tremor. She walked slowly, her cheeks flushed, praying no one would notice the tension radiating off her.  


As Afrah slowly lowered herself onto the chair, she moved with deliberate caution, desperate to avoid adding to the relentless sensations already tormenting her wet pussy. Her thighs trembled as the vibrator shifted slightly inside her, its subtle movements igniting fresh waves of stimulation.

The moment she sat, the device pressed deeper, sending a sharp, quenching vibration through her. She bit her lip hard, suppressing the moan that threatened to escape, her fingers gripping the edge of the table for support. Her breath came in short, quiet gasps as she tried to maintain her composure, her body betraying her with every subtle tremor.


It hadn’t crossed her mind when she walked into the office that morning. Or even earlier at home, when she’d decided to go panty-less just to feel the thrill of it and tease Vishal. But now, with her pussy stuffed by the relentless vibrator, she was paying the price for her boldness, tormented by every hum and quiver.  

Her thoughts spiraled as she clenched her fists under the table, her frustration bubbling over. "I’m going to kill him," she thought bitterly. "No, I’m going to crush him."

Minutes later, the door to the conference room opened, and Vishal strode in with his usual confidence. Afrah’s head shot up, her eyes narrowing at him even as she tried to keep her expression neutral.  

He spared her a quick glance, smirking ever so slightly before addressing the room. “Good morning, everyone. Let’s get started.”  

Afrah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, biting back another frustrated groan as the vibrations continued their merciless rhythm. The meeting had barely begun, and already she was struggling to keep her composure.  



Afrah couldn’t stop stealing glances at Vishal as he stood at the head of the room, addressing the team with his usual commanding presence. His deep voice carried authority, each word flowing effortlessly, and the confident way he carried himself only added to the ache building inside her.  

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the vibrator humming softly, teasing her without mercy.  

I hate him, she thought, her frustration boiling over into vivid fantasies. She imagined dragging him into a private space, forcing him to his knees, and crushing his smug face between her trembling thighs as she found her release. Her lips curled into a faint smirk of her own as her thoughts twisted further, picturing his mouth working to please her, erasing the torment he had inflicted.  

The fantasy only fueled her arousal, and she clenched her fists beneath the table, glaring at him even as her body betrayed her desires.  


Fifteen minutes into the meeting, Afrah’s desperation reached its breaking point. A terrifying thought clawed its way into her mind—What if he made her come right here, in front of everyone? The sheer humiliation that would follow sent a flush of heat across her skin, yet it only added to the maddening ache between her thighs. Her legs pressed tighter together as she bit her lip hard, suppressing a soft, involuntary whimper.  

Suddenly, the vibrator surged to a higher setting, its hum intensifying as it teased her sensitive pussy. The sensation was so sharp, so overwhelming, that she nearly jumped out of her chair. 

Afrah’s grip on the edge of the table tightened, her knuckles turning white as her nails dug into the wood. She risked a glance at her tormentor, their eyes met he smirked at her.

  
Afrah’s breathing hitched as the vibrations inside her surged, relentless and soaked in her fluids. She could feel the wetness coating the device, the heat between her thighs unbearable. 

The buzzing sound teased her ears, faint yet persistent.

Neha: “Do you hear that buzzing sound?”

Afrah froze, panic shooting through her. 

Afrah:“No, I don’t hear anything.”

Neha’s curious gaze lingered, but she eventually turned her attention back to the meeting.But the vibrator buzzed with a relentless rhythm, hitting every sensitive spot inside her. 

And then it hit a particularly sensitive spot.

A soft, breathy moan slipped past her lips before she could catch it.

“Ahh…”

Though faint, it was enough to catch Neha’s attention again. 

Neha:Are you okay?

Afrah: Y-yes, just a cramp

But then, the vibrator shifted into a faster, deeper rhythm, and Afrah nearly bolted from her chair. She pressed her lips tightly together, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge. She was about to come. Here. In this room. In front of everyone.

Her breaths quickened, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. The pressure built to an unbearable peak, and just as she was about to shatter, the vibrations stopped.

She gasped softly, her body still tense, her head snapping toward Vishal. He stood at the front of the room, his expression calm, but the slight quirk of his lips betrayed his amusement.

Afrah didn’t know whether to feel relieved or furious. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled need, and her gaze burned into him, a mix of anger and frustration swirling in her eyes.

She wanted to reach down, desperately rub her clit to chase the relief, to bring herself to the edge. But no, she couldn’t. 


The meeting concluded, and as everyone began to leave, Vishal walked toward Afrah. The vibrator inside her hummed to life again, slowly intensifying, causing her to tense slightly.

 Vishal: Afrah 

Afrah :Yes, Mr. Vishal?



 Vishal:“How’s that report coming ?


“It’s, uh—” she falters, her thoughts scattering .

“It was about to come,” she whispered, her voice low and breathless, barely audible, before the vibrator stopped again, leaving her feeling frustrated and empty.

Without a word, Vishal turned and walked back toward his cabin, his strides confident and calm.


N
eha: let's go 

Afrah : I will join you later , looking at his cabin ,lusty angry 

Afrah nodded, but her gaze remained fixed on Vishal’s cabin, a mix of anger and desire burning within her.





Afrah glanced at the clock—ten minutes left. The office was almost empty, the faint hum of activity fading. She knew he was still in his cabin; he always stayed late.

Her legs trembled as she stood, the phantom sensation of the vibrator lingering. With steady, deliberate steps, she walked toward his door, her heart pounding.

Pausing for a moment, she pushed it open and stepped inside, ready to confront him.


Vishal leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips as Afrah stormed into his cabin. Without a word, she locked the door behind her, her movements quick and purposeful.  

Before he could speak, she rushed toward him, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desire. She grabbed his collar and crashed her lips against his in a furious, heated kiss.  

“You bastard,” she hissed against his mouth, her voice dripping with frustration and longing. Her teeth grazed his lower lip before she bit down hard, drawing a soft groan from him.  

Her lips moved to his neck, biting and nipping at his skin, leaving a trail of raw, stinging marks. It wasn’t gentle; it was punishment—a retaliation for the torment he’d put her through.  

Vishal chuckled, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her closer. “Angry or desperate?” he teased, his voice low and taunting.  

Afrah’s response was another sharp bite to his neck, her breathing ragged as she pressed herself against him.  



Afrah pushed him back into his chair, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and raw desire. She climbed onto his desk, the papers and files scattering under her.   

She sat on the edge of the table, her gaze locked on his as she placed her foot against his chest, pushing him slightly back. 

Still holding his gaze, she slowly lifted her skirt, revealing her trembling thighs and the torment he had caused her. Then, with a defiant look, she parted her legs, baring herself to him.  

Reaching between her thighs, her fingers brushed against the vibrator he had so cruelly left inside her. Her breathing was ragged as she pulled it out slowly, the slick device glistening with her arousal.  

She held it up, her expression a blend of fury and challenge. “Enjoyed your little game?” she asked, her voice low, filled with both anger and a heat she couldn’t suppress.  

Vishal smirked, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Every second,” he replied smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.  

 

Without breaking eye contact, Afrah grabbed Vishal by the collar and leaned forward, her breath hot and heavy. Then, with a swift, commanding motion, she seized his head and pushed it between her parted thighs.  

“Since you’re so proud of your little game,” she hissed, her voice dripping with both fury and desire, “fix it.”  

Vishal chuckled against her inner thigh, the vibration sending a shiver through her. His hands instinctively gripped her hips, steadying her as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of her arousal.  

Afrah tightened her grip on his hair, pulling his face closer. “No more teasing,” she warned, her tone sharp, her thighs pressing against the sides of his face in frustration.  

Vishal’s obeyed, his tongue slipping out to taste her. Her breath hitched, and her nails dug into his scalp as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. When his tongue ran between her wet folds, a loud moan escaped her lips. Grabbing his hair by the root, she pulled him into her with a violent movement. He didn’t resist; instead, he dove into her with a vengeance, his open mouth sucking on her drenched pussy. When he flicked his tongue against her clit, it felt as though she had been struck by thunder. Her whole body tensed up, and she began swaying her hips from side to side, rubbing her pussy against his face as if tomorrow would never come.


His tongue found her center , and using his hold on her, he began to lap at her pussy. His tongue dragged through her folds, the delicate flesh soaked in her cum.Opening his mouth wide, he sucks her drenched folds, taking her juices in his mouth as his tongue starts to jab at her, parting her inner lips and sliding in and out at a maddening pace. She rest her hands on his, feeling dazed by the way he moves his head. Grabbing locks of stray hair, she keeps pulling him into her violently while she thrust her hips against his face, rubbing her pussy all over his mouth. Relishing it, he redoubles his efforts, sucking and licking in a way that turns a never ending sequence of hushed moans into a long drawn out one. Ooh... yes, right there Ooh... yes, right there," she gasped, arching her back.



Sucking while his tongue laps at her clit, he placed his finger on her pussy ,starts rubbing with his finger , and she feels her insides boiling and clenching. His grip on her ass his not that strong ,so she sway her hips freely. She place her legs over his shoulders, locking him in place and reeling him in while she press his face against her pussy, rubbing herself against him, her mind completely devoid of any semblance of rationality. In this precise moment, she is just existing. One harder flick of his tongue against her clit and a thunderstorm consumes her mind. She pull him into my pussy so hard that she can even feel his teeth against my flesh, and she come just like that. Her whole body trembles as she thrust at him, goose bumps all over her skin. He pulls back, leaving only his finger inside; instead of taking it out as she come, he keeps on fingering her without mercy. Her whole body is trembling and there’s a violent pressure mounting on her insides.


Something inside of her was clenching, and she tried to grab Vishal's hand. He looked up at her, a grin on his face, and redoubled his efforts. "Vishal, I ....... " But, judging by the look on his face, he knew exactly what he was doing. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and... Oh God, what was this? Her whole body contracted, and it felt like she was about to explode. Really explode. And that’s exactly what happened.

Her pussy clenched around his finger , and an orgasm spread through her like a flood. And I mean that quite literally; she was gushing! She was… she was squirting! Oh, God, she really was squirting, in a way she never thought possible. The pleasure was so intense, she felt all of her muscles burning. Warm juices shot out of her pussy, dripping down her folds, pooling between her thighs on the leather seat. Her limbs flailed as she threw her head back against the seat, breathing hard.


"Come here," she whispers suddenly, her lips aching for a kiss.He comes up, sitting by her side, touching her cheek, caressing it, and laying his lips against hers. She can still taste herself on his mouth, and by God, she loves how it feels. But he isn’t done yet. His finger is still inside of her, He starts slowly at first, almost as if he’s teasing her, but she’s as wet and ready as she can be. He goes faster, with each thrust of his finger, increasing the pace, and soon she’s pressing her legs together, locking his hand into place as he fingers her toward insanity. When he pushes one more finger inside of her, she has to grit her teeth. Her body is still trembling and shaking, and even so, she can already feel that storm of pleasure building back up, the roar of delight inside her mind. She throws her head back, her hair falling over her shoulders, and she chokes down a scream as something explodes inside her mind. She comes... she comes really hard.


After a few minutes, Afrah relaxed and looked at him. His finger brushed gently against her cheek.

Vishal: "I want you to come to Sri Lanka with me."

Afrah knew exactly what it meant if she agreed, the implications swirling in her mind.
 Yet, without saying a word, she nodded.

[Zoz34]

At dinner, Afrah pushed her food around on her plate, barely eating. Her mind was consumed by the promise she had made to Vishal about the Sri Lanka trip. She knew what it would lead to if she went with him.

Her Ammi’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 



She forced a smile and nodded, but her thoughts were anything but calm. The weight of her promise to Vishal and her mother’s words clashed in her mind, leaving her torn between desire and duty.


Her Ammi’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.  

Ammi: "Afrah, I was thinking today about how time flies. Just yesterday, you were a little girl running around the house, and now... now we’re preparing for your wedding. Life moves so fast, beta."  

She gave Afrah a warm smile but then sighed, her tone becoming reflective.  

Ammi: "Do you know what makes a marriage strong? Sacrifice, trust, and understanding. A girl has to leave behind so much—her home, her family—but she gains a new world in return. It is a woman duty to make a home out of a house ,a woman can make a home or breakit.

Afrah swallowed hard, her throat dry. Her Ammi’s words weren’t accusatory, but they felt like a mirror, reflecting her choices and actions back at her. Was what she was doing with Vishal right? Was it fair to Sohail?  



Afrah felt her stomach twist as her Ammi’s words settled over her like a heavy weight. She nodded mechanically, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unable to find the peace her mother seemed so certain she should have.


Later that night, as Afrah aimlessly scrolled through Instagram, her guilt and uncertainty only deepened. A post appeared on her feed—a man pouring his heart out about the pain of being betrayed by his wife’s infidelity. His words were raw, filled with heartbreak and anger.  

She scrolled further and came across another post, this one filled with sharp judgment. A woman was being shamed, called a whore for having multiple relationships before marriage. The comment section was even worse, teeming with harsh opinions.  

"A woman who is not a virgin is not marriage material,"one comment .

Afrah stared at the words, her heart sinking. The comments were a storm of condemnation and moral policing, each one heavier than the last. She felt a lump form in her throat as she realized how society could be unforgiving, particularly towards women.  

Her thumb froze mid-scroll, and her mind replayed the events of the day. Her promise to Vishal, her Ammi’s words, and now this—it all pressed down on her chest like an unbearable weight. Was she heading down a path that would lead to regret and shame? Would her actions make her unworthy in the eyes of her family, her faith, and even herself?  

Afrah set her phone aside, feeling overwhelmed. The posts, the comments, her mother’s voice—all of it echoed in her mind, leaving her questioning everything.

She again read the comments  

"And do not approach unlawful sexual intercourse. Indeed, it is ever an immorality and is evil as a way."

The caption elaborated on the importance of chastity before marriage.
The comments were filled with discussions about the value of virginity.

"A woman’s chastity is a crown of honor; it’s a trust "

"A man has every right to expect his wife to be a virgin on their wedding night. It’s what is written , and anything less is dishonor." 

Afrah's heart felt heavier with every word. These reminders of faith and societal expectations clashed painfully with the reality of her actions and desires. 

Her mind spiraled as she placed her phone down, the words of her Ammi and the comments lingering in her thoughts like a constant reminder of the crossroads she faced.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, always encouraging her to be pious, to live a life that aligned with their values and faith. Ammi had often spoken about how a woman’s modesty and righteousness were her greatest treasures.  

But then there was Vishal. He was like a sweet poison—irresistible and addictive. He gave her pleasure that was almost otherworldly, a sensation so intense that it left her craving more. Yet, it wasn’t just the physical satisfaction. Vishal made her feel powerful.  

Through whispered gossip with her married friends, Afrah had learned that many men didn’t care about a woman’s pleasure. Some didn’t even know how to give it. They spoke in hushed tones about feeling ignored in their bedrooms, about fulfilling a duty rather than sharing intimacy.  

But Vishal was different. He didn’t just care—he reveled in pleasing her. The memory of him kneeling in front of her, his mouth worshipping her as she sat on his chair, sent a shiver through her body. The image was intoxicating, the way he surrendered to her, making her feel like a angle.

The thought stirred a heat inside her, making her ache with desire. Yet, even as the memory aroused her, a nagging voice in her head whispered that what she was doing was wrong.  

She clenched her fists, torn between the intoxicating power Vishal gave her and the guilt that weighed heavily on her soul. Could she continue down this path, knowing it went against everything her family and faith stood for? Or had she already gone too far to turn back?


As her mind wrestled with conflicting emotions, her fingers absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Suddenly, a picture of Vishal appeared on the screen. He was shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat, his sculpted six-pack and broad chest on full display. The photo was from their Goa trip, and he looked impossibly sexy—so effortlessly magnetic that her breath hitched.  

Her eyes stayed locked on the image, admiring every detail of his physique. But then her gaze drifted downward, focusing on the waistband of his shorts. A flash of memory jolted her.  

She was there, in Goa, wearing a low-rise denim skirt and a cropped top that showed off her bare waist. She had felt confident, sexy, and free. The salty breeze had brushed against her skin, and she had been laughing at something when Vishal had suddenly pulled her close.  [img]<a href=[/img]" />

Her ass had pressed firmly against him, and for a fleeting moment, she had felt something hard and big against her. At the time, she hadn’t given it much thought, distracted by the moment, by the thrill of being so near him.  

But now, staring at his picture, her mind raced back to that moment. Was it what she thought it was? Her cheeks flushed, her pulse quickening as her imagination filled in the gaps her memory had left behind.  

Her eyes returned to the picture, lingering on his shorts, as a mix of curiosity and arousal bubbled up inside her. The thought was impossible to ignore now, her body responding to the memory even as her conscience screamed at her to stop.


Her mind, already a whirlwind of emotions, jolted to another memory—one far more vivid and racy. It was that fateful night in the car, the night everything had changed between them.  

She could still feel the tension in the air as Vishal leaned closer, his mouth work on her pussy lips for the first time. 

In that fateful night before his mouth found his way to her pussy, he had pulled her over to his  car seat, her ass landing squarely on his lap, she had felt it—hard, unyielding, pressing against her through his pants. The realization had made her heart race wildly, but she hadn’t dared to acknowledge it out loud.  [img]<a href=[/img]" />

And then, her hand... it had accidentally brushed against him. 

Now, sitting alone with these memories flooding her mind, her body responded involuntarily. A mix of shame and longing coursed through her as she recalled every detail, every stolen moment of that night. It was a memory she could never erase, no matter how hard she tried. A memory that defined the dangerous hold Vishal had over her.



No, this has to stop," Afrah whispered to herself, her voice trembling but resolute.

"I have to end this," she said more firmly this time, standing up. No more crossing lines.


Next day:

The next day at work, during the meeting, Afrah felt it—Vishal’s eyes on her, burning into her like a damn laser.  

She didn’t dare look up, but her body betrayed her. Her thighs pressed together, heat pooling between them as dampness spread in her panties. She tried to focus, tried to keep it together, but his stare had her shifting in her seat, her breath hitching.  

Damn it, she thought, biting her lip. He wasn’t even touching her, and yet here she was, already soaked.  


She was sure he’d call her to his cabin after the meeting, but he didn’t .

Around the later half of the noon ,when Vishal called her.

It was dangerous territory, and she knew it. As soon as Afrah entered his cabin, she began to blabber nervously, “We should stop this... this isn’t right. We can’t do this anymore.”  

Vishal stepped closer and gently placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face toward his. “Shh,” he whispered.

Vishal:“Are you afraid of me?"


Afrah shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself.  

Vishal: what are you afraid of? Always remember, you have control over me. I’m bound by your hands.

Her eyes widened, meeting his, unsure of what to say.  

Vishal:“I’ll never do anything without your permission Not only that, but I’m bound to fulfill your every wish. Don’t you remember?Mouth on your feet as I knelt in front of my princess.”  

Her heart pounded in her chest, his words wrapping around her like a spell. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to push him away, but her body betrayed her. Her lips ached for his, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his intensity.  

She took a hesitant step back, trying to put some distance between them, but her feet fumbled. She stumbled, and Vishal caught her with ease.  

In the chaos, her hand brushed against his crotch, and she froze, her cheeks flaming. She could feel the unmistakable hardness beneath his pants, and it sent a shockwave through her body.  

“Careful, princess,” he murmured, his grip on her firm yet gentle, his tone laced with both amusement and desire.



She should have taken her hand back, should have stepped away, but she didn’t. Instead, her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling as her eyes flickered downward. The sight of him—the way his pants were strained, the fabric tented by his arousal—made her pulse quicken.  

Her gaze returned to his, wide and filled with a mix of fear and desire.  

Vishal:“Look,how you’ve bound me by your enchantment.Your hand,is enough to control me at your will.”  

Afrah’s mind screamed at her to stop, to pull away, to leave the cabin and never look back. But her body wasn’t listening. Her hand, as if it had a will of its own, began to move. Slowly, her fingers rubbed him over the fabric of his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath.  

Vishal groaned softly, his breath hitching as her touch grew bolder. “See, princess?” he murmured, his words heavy with both power and submission. “Even now, I’m yours to command.”  

Her heart raced wildly, a dangerous mix of guilt and longing twisting inside her. But as her hand continued its forbidden exploration, all rational thoughts seemed to fade into the background.


Her soft hands traced the hard length through the fabric of his clothes. She heard Vishal gasp softly, and then felt it twitch slightly beneath the material.


She knew she shouldn't be doing this—it was so wrong, she was determined to stop it all yet so incredibly erotic. Her fingers brushed against the hard length beneath the fabric, and she heard Vishal's breath catch, his body responding as it grew under her touch. Her breath hitched at the sensation; it felt overwhelming, almost too much to grasp. Her hand trembled as she cupped him, the fabric straining under the pressure of her soft, delicate fingers. It was so hard, so firm—she could feel the outline clearly now, every inch pulsing with heat beneath her touch. She squeezed again, and Vishal’s gasp was a low, desperate sound that sent shivers through her body. 

She locked eyes with him, seeing the silent plea in his gaze, as if his entire being was begging for more. Her hand moved again, squeezing gently, feeling his body twitch in response. His lips parted, but before she could give in to the overwhelming urge to kiss him, there was a sharp knock on the door, pulling her back to reality.


The knock shattered the charged silence, jolting her back to reality. Her hand froze, and she pulled away as if burned, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. 

Without a word, she stood, her legs unsteady beneath her, and smoothed her dress and left his cabin.


What have I done? she thought, her chest tightening with a mix of regret and longing. 


Home:

At home, her Ammi called out to her, snapping her out of her daze. “Come help me in the kitchen,” her mother said, her voice tinged with impatience. 

“Wash these brinjals,” her Ammi instructed, handing her a small basket. 
As she noticed the bringsl some other things came to her mind. As she ran water over it, her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the office.  

She remembers her trembling hand gliding over the hard cock beneath Vishal’s trousers, the way it twitched at her touch. Her pulse quickened as the memory replayed itself vividly. She squeezed the brinjal absentmindedly, the sensation triggering a wave of heat that rushed through her body.  

Lost in thought,it heightened her arousal. Her fingers wrapped around the smooth, firm surface, sliding up and down as she cleaned it. Her grip unconsciously tightened, mimicking the way she had rubbed Vishal’s length over his pants.  

As she continued stroking the brinjal, her mind betrayed her, blurring the lines between reality and memory. It wasn’t just a vegetable anymore; it felt like him—his cock. She could picture it vividly, stroking it in her hand, the way his body had twitched under her touch, and the desperate gasps he’d let out. Her breath grew shallow, and her cheeks burned as the sensations replayed in her mind, stronger and more vivid this time.  
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
Her hand moved almost on its own, wrapping tighter around the brinjal, stroking its length as if it were Vishal. The forbidden thrill returned, her body tingling as the memory consumed her. The shape and firmness of the brinjal only deepened the ache she had been trying so hard to ignore.  

Ammi:"Afrah, what are you doing? Why are you playing with it? Hurry up and give it to me!" 

Afrah froze, realizing her hand was still moving, gripping the vegetable too tightly. She quickly placed it on the cutting board, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, I’m coming. Just a moment," she stammered, avoiding her mother’s gaze.  


She cursed herself for the dirty thoughts invading her mind, but her curiosity was relentless. What would it feel like to hold his length without any fabric in between? The thought sent a shiver through her, unbidden and unstoppable. Her body betrayed her—heat pooling low within her, a dampness she couldn’t ignore.

Her cheeks burned as she cursed herself again, desperate to shake off the forbidden desires, but the memory lingered, stubborn and unrelenting, teasing her resolve.


After dinner in her room 

Just as Afrah was about to shake off her thoughts, her phone buzzed with a message from Vishal.

Vishal:Thinking about me?

Afrah quickly typed her response, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts.  

Afrah:No.

Vishal:You're a lying brat, princess ?

She bit her lip, trying to keep her cool.  

Afrah:I'm not thinking about you.

Vishal:But I am thinking about you. I think you left some inspection incomplete...

Afrah's heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her hand, caressing his hard length over his pants. The thought made her blush. If only he knew what she'd been doing with the brinjal earlier. She should control herself. She shouldn’t flirt back, but...  

Afrah:I think I completed the inspection.

Vishal:Reports say you only inspected from the outside. Didn't check the material from the inside.

Afrah:I think outside inspection is enough to know how the product is.

Vishal:I disagree, Ms. Afrah. You should inspect it fully. Sometimes, people have a wrong notion about the product based on just the outside. But the product could be a different monster altogether.

  

Afrah:What if that monster is bad? What if it bites me?

Vishal:Maybe... maybe not. Maybe it just needs your love. Maybe kisses.

Afrah’s fingers trembled as she typed, her thoughts swirling.  

Afrah:Monsters don’t deserve love. They deserve punishment.

Vishal:Then maybe you should punish it with your hand.

 She felt a rush of heat as she read his message.




Vishal: But before you punish the monster, you deserve punishment for leaving the inspection incomplete.


Afrah What would be my punishment?



Vishal: For your punishment, you need to apologize properly.

Afrah:Properly?

Vishal: Yes. A picture apology first.



Afrah: What kind of picture apology?

Vishal: Something sincere, princess. Show me how sorry you are. I’ll let you decide how.

She stared at the screen, biting her lip. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, half-scandalized and half-tempted. Afrah knew she should put an end to this game, but the thrill of his attention, the push and pull, was intoxicating.




Vishal’s POV:

The first picture she sent was a cute selfie, nothing too daring. She flashed a soft smile at the camera, her eyes shimmering with playful innocence. Vishal could tell she was trying to keep it light, but he felt the subtle mischief behind it.

Vishal: Though I like your effort, apologies should be more sincere.

He waited, feeling the anticipation build in his chest. A few minutes passed before his phone pinged again. This time, it was a video.

The video began with Afrah in front of a mirror, the frame capturing her full figure. She wore tight, dark trousers that clung to her like a second skin, molding to the curve of her wide hips and thick thighs, the fabric stretched and taut, teasing with every move as it accentuated her every curve. The top she wore was casual ,but her figure made any outfit laced with seduction . She held the phone in one hand, the other playfully lifting her top higher, revealing the sinuous curve of her waist and the alluring dip of her stomach, the bare skin gleaming like a forbidden promise meant to captivate.

Vishal’s eyes darted down, watching as the fabric stretched against her skin. Even though her pose wasn’t overtly revealing, the way her body was framed, the way her hips swayed, made her cock throbbed in pant. Her thick thighs were barely contained by the tightness of the trousers, the fabric brushing against her skin as if it was just a second layer. 
[img]<a href=[/img]" />


The camera zoomed in, capturing her waist—just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the soft curve, the fabric riding up slightly to expose her skin.

Her waist looked impossibly soft, like butter beneath her fingertips. The soft curve of her waist drew the eye, the subtle dip of her navel teasing just above the waistband, inviting attention. Each subtle shift of her body caused the fabric to cling tighter, her stomach's soft swell barely contained, a provocative hint of flesh visible as it stretched against the tight material, daring anyone to look. She didn’t need to do much to captivate him; just that subtle, barely-there glimpse was enough.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Vishal’s cock was hard, realizing that she knew exactly what she was doing. She was fully aware of his obsession with her waist, with the way her body curved so effortlessly. And there she was, playing with it, letting him


Vishal: I’m happy with your apology. It seems like you're sincere. Next time, don’t finish your work halfway.

Afrah: Glad you accept my apology. I actually prepared another one, more sincere than the last one, just in case you didn’t like it.



His cock jerked in his pants, a sharp, unexpected reaction that had him clenching his jaw. She was teasing him now, pushing every button with precision. Her game was clear, and it was working.


Vishal: Maybe you should send me the apology for future review.

Afrah: Then I"ll ve nothing for future mistakes.

Vishal: You will be thoroughly punished for future mistakes. Now send me the apology.

Afrah: No, I have to save it for future purposes.

She was being bratty, challenging him.He liked the way she toyed with him, the boldness in her words, the way she twisted everything with such confidence.

Vishal: If you don’t send the apology, how would I know you won’t repeat the mistake again?

Afrah* I won’t repeat the mistake again, I’m sending you something that will show you my intent.

Her response was a deliberate tease, and Vishal’s pulse quickened. She knew exactly what she was doing—leaving him on the edge, anticipating what she would send next. It wasn’t just the words, it was the power she wielded over him. And it was only making him crave her more.



Then came a picture. At first, Vishal noticed the long, thick brinjal in the image. His eyes lingered on it, and then, as he looked closer, he saw her hand. His pulse quickened, his body reacting to what she was implying by sending this picture.

Her soft, fair hand was wrapped around the brinjal, fingers delicately gripping it, as if she were holding something else entirely. The contrast between her pale skin and the dark, thick vegetable was enough to make his mind race. She knew exactly what she was doing, 
sending this, and it wasn’t just the image of the brinjal that made his cock throb—it was the insinuation behind it.


To be continue

[Zoz34]

wow what an erotic update

Ah! now that's the right tempo for this story! Eroticism at core and Arfah being centre of it. Also I see your brilliance in writing from Arfah's mother's advise - this could be a perspective how Arfah can get back conservative once again back on track! Keep regular updates coming please..

Great sexy update

Lovely

There cannot be more tease than this. Simply awesomeeeeeee

Super erotica

Thanx

[Zoz34]

hi bro good update afrah being afrah again nice to read let me tell you something bro afrah should be the toughest catch for vishal

Thanks bro

[Zoz34]

May be tomorrow or day after that

[Zoz34]

Vishal's POV:  

He knew he had to tread carefully with her. Afrah seemed to enjoy exploring the sexy, daring side of herself, but he was all too aware of her habit of retreating back into her shell. Her conservative background always loomed in the background, like a safety net she instinctively fell back on.  

But that was the fun of it—the challenge. The thrill lay in drawing her out, coaxing her to embrace her boldness fully. 



He looked at the picture again, his eyes lingering on her hand groping the long, dark brinjal. The way her fingers wrapped around it sent his mind spiraling back to that afternoon.  

In the heat of the noon, her soft, fair hand had been tentatively brushing against his thigh. She had been hesitant, her conservative instincts warring with the electricity sparking between them. But he could see the way her resolve crumbled, the way curiosity and desire overtook her reluctance.  

Within minutes, that same hand had slid over the hard ridge of his pants, her fingers curling tentatively around his throbbing length. The look in her eyes had been a mix of nervousness and bold defiance, as though she couldn’t believe what she was doing but couldn’t bring herself to stop.  

 

The way her soft hand moved, caressing his hidden length over his pants, made him throb harder beneath the fabric. Her fingers trailed with an almost deliberate curiosity, as if she were sizing him up, testing his thickness and length with every slow stroke. It wasn’t just her touch—it was the way she seemed to hesitate, yet linger, that drove him wild.  

 He was certain that, if not for the untimely interruptions, she would’ve let herself explore further.

He looked at the picture again and let out a low chuckle. The brinjal in her hand w, but soon, it would be replaced with something much bigger—his throbbing length, finally in her grasp.  

  

Next day 



The next day at the office, Vishal’s eyes immediately found Afrah. She was standing by Neha’s desk, chatting casually, her laughter carrying across the room. He tried to focus on his work, but she noticed him looking.  

Her full, rounded ass swelled temptingly beneath the confines of her tight knee-length skirt, the fabric clinging looks tight . Each curve was sculpted perfection, the kind that seemed to defy gravity, with her arched stance showcasing its luscious prominence. The skirt stretched over the juicy ass, the seam straining slightly as if it could barely contain the soft, sinful flesh beneath—a sight that could stir even the coldest blood. 

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God, her ass looked irresistible—round, firm, and deliciously tempting. The sight of her juicy, round ass teasing him through the clingy fabric of her skirt was driving him insane. He could barely resist the overwhelming urge to step closer, palm it firmly, and deliver a sharp slap, just to see it jiggle enticingly under his hand. The thought alone made his fingers twitch with anticipation, his restraint hanging by a thread.

Her gaze flickered toward him again. She straightened, smoothing her skirt down as if to challenge him further. Vishal exhaled sharply, knowing this game they played was far from over.  



Vishal’s mind sparked with a devious plan. Afrah’s duality intrigued him—sometimes she gave in to her lust, fully embracing her sensual side, only to retreat into guilt and modesty afterward. It was a constant push and pull that both frustrated and excited him.  

But today, he had an idea to tip the balance. If Afrah could tease him, why not turn the tables? He knew exactly how to get under her skin. Tanya and her husband were scheduled to visit the office later, and he saw the perfect opport
unity to stoke a little jealousy.  

Tanya and her husband, Aakash, arrived at the office. As usual, Tanya’s presence demanded attention. The Bong beauty was dbangd in a saree that, while not as provocative as her usual attire, still managed to turn heads.  

The fabric clung to her curves, teasing more than it revealed. The saree sat low on her hips, teasing with a glimpse of her soft, slightly flabby waist.

Though her large breasts were covered by the blouse, it seemed to strain against the fabric, desperate to break free from its tight grip. 

 
Vishal smirked, knowing exactly how Afrah would react when she saw him interact with Tanya. The game was about to get interesting.  


Vishal engaged in polite business talk with Tanya and Aakash but his eyes occasionally drifting to Tanya.  

After a while, Vishal leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider something. Then, with deliberate casualness, he picked up his phone and dialed Afrah’s extension.  

Vishal:“Afrah,Since you're handling the project now, I think it makes sense for you to join us. Why don’t we step out for lunch and discuss the next steps there?”  

He didn’t miss the flicker of surprise on Tanya’s face, nor the slight narrowing of Aakash’s eyes. 


At restaurant 




At the restaurant, they took their seats, Tanya gracefully settling into hers. As she adjusted her saree, her pallu slipped, sliding off her shoulder and exposing a glorious glimpse of her creamy cleavage.One could clearly see her deep, scandalous curves, like sin etched into her silhouette, shamelessly embraced by the daring cut of her blouse.

The soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed made the view all the more captivating. Vishal’s gaze flickered to the exposed skin, the contrast of her golden necklace resting against the creamy boobs making it look even more enticing. Her posture, deliberate yet casual, made it seem as if the mishap were unintentional, though Vishal knew better.  

He felt a rush of satisfaction as he glanced at Afrah. Her jaw tightened slightly, and her eyes darted to Tanya before settling back on her plate. The irritation was subtle but unmistakable. Vishal smirked, enjoying the reaction.  

Tanya, completely unbothered, continued to chat, oblivious—or perhaps perfectly aware—of the small storm she was stirring. Vishal leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of his glass as he let his eyes wander back to Tanya. He knew the sight was delicious, tempting, but his real amusement came from Afrah's barely concealed jealousy.  

Afrah pov:



Afrah’s eyes narrowed as she watched Tanya across the table. That slut, she thought bitterly, seething as she noticed Tanya's pallu still carelessly dbangd, revealing her big, enticing boobs. Even in front of her husband, Tanya was shamelessly tempting Vishal.  
[img]<a href=[/img]
Afrah’s gaze flickered to Vishal, and her irritation deepened. He wasn’t even trying to hide the way his eyes lingered on Tanya’s chest. Meanwhile, Tanya, the shameless woman, seemed to thrive under the attention.  

As if to prove Afrah’s point, Tanya picked up her fork, twirling it delicately through her pasta. She leaned forward just enough for her cleavage to press against the edge of the table, the soft swell of her breasts straining against the confines of her blouse, begging for more attention. It was almost too much—the way her chest seemed ready to spill out at any moment. Then, as if fate had a wicked sense of humor, a dollop of creamy white sauce slipped from her fork and landed right on the exposed curve of her boobs, drawing all eyes like a magnet to the glistening drop.
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“Oh, oops,” Tanya said. Her lips curled into a small smile as she slowly brought her hand to her chest. Her fingers delicately wiped the cream off her creamy skin .

The woman lifted her sauce-coated finger to her lips, parting them slightly. Her tongue darted out, licking the cream off with a slow, deliberate motion, as if savoring every bit of it.  

Afrah clenched her fists under the table. She could feel her irritation bubbling over, her mind racing with jealousy and frustration. That slut doesn’t have any shame. And in front of her husband, no less. Vishal better not be enjoying this.  

But when she dared to glance at him, the slight smirk on his lips told her otherwise.  

Tanya : I love this cream ,it's so delicious.

Afrah cursed silently in her mind. Slut. Her fists tightened under the table, her irritation bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Tanya’s shamelessness was beyond infuriating.  

But then, Afrah’s thoughts began to drift. Her eyes fell on the small smear of white cream still clinging to Tanya’s lips, glistening under the light. The suggestive words Tanya had uttered seemed to echo in her mind, amplifying the tension in the room.  

Afrah’s jaw tightened as an unsettling thought surfaced. Had Tanya tasted Vishal? The very idea sent a wave of jealousy and arousal coursing through her veins.


Even though she didn’t want to, her mind conjured an image so vivid it made her stomach twist. She saw Vishal, completely naked, sitting with his legs spread wide, his muscular chest glistening under dim light. Tanya was on her knees in front of him, her brown skin flushed and smeared with thick, white cum.  

Afrah’s pulse quickened as her imagination played cruel tricks on her. She could see Tanya’s lips parting, her tongue darting out to clean the mess from her cheek with a slow, sensual motion. Tanya’s eyes, filled with playful submission, locked onto Vishal’s as she licked her fingers clean.  

The thought sent a wave of anger but most importantly it made her horny , thinking about his thick cum .


Vishal pov:

Vishal couldn't help but enjoy the game. Tanya’s bold gestures were just as provocative as he’d expected, so was afrah reaction.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt Afrah's hand on his thigh. 

Afrah dug her nails into his skin, her grip tight with anger and jealousy. “You’re enjoying the show, huh?” she whispered.


Vishal's thoughts were cut short as the waiter arrived, placing a plate of dessert on the table. A decadent arrangement of chocolate drizzled over whipped cream and ripe strawberries took center stage. The aroma of cocoa mixed with the sweetness of the cream lingered in the air.

With her hand gripping his thigh possessively, her nails pressing deeper into his skin. Her narrowed eyes, filled with mischief and hunger, locked on his as she picked up the dessert. The plump strawberry, dripping with honey and cream, became her weapon of choice.  

She drew it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lap at the creamy sweetness, the tip of it flicking over the fruit’s surface in a slow, teasing circle. Her eyes remained fixed on him, daring him to look away as her full lips parted with deliberate slowness. She took the strawberry into her mouth, her lips sealing around it in a way that made his stomach knot with desire.  

[img]<a href=[/img]" />

A drop of honey escaped, sliding down the curve of her chin. Another dribbled from her fingers, pooling on her palm before streaking down to her wrist. The viscous nectar smeared across her luminous skin, catching the light in a way that made it glisten obscenely.

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Her lips released the strawberry with a soft, wet sound, and her tongue swept over the remaining cream on her mouth, dragging slowly to savor every drop. She brought her sticky fingers to her lips, one by one, slipping them between her mouth as she sucked them clean. 
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

He was painfully hard, his erection throbbing against the confines of his pants as he look at the seductive scenario unfolding before his eyes.

His attention was fixated on her lips as he felt her hand press against his hardon. His cock jerk beneath the fabric.He saw a brief flicker of shock in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by a teasing grin as her teeth nipped at her lip. He struggled to stifle a gasp as her hand moved, slowly rubbing him, cupping him over the fabric.


She picked up the spoon, this time scooping up the thick, white cream . She held the spoon to her lips, teasing him with the anticipation as she took her time, her eyes dark with intent and fixed firmly on his.  

With a soft, sensual moan, she parted her lips and allowed the thick cream to slide across them, coating them in a rich, glossy layer. The white liquid on her lips made them look even fuller, more inviting, ,also creating an illusion as if it was layered with thick white cum. [img]<a href=[/img]" />

It was almost unbearable for him to hold back as he watched her lips move over the cream in such a filthy way, while her hand kept rubbing and squeezing his hardon, making it harder to stay in control.


When the spoon was finally removed, her tongue shot out impulsively, tracing the outline of her lips with exaggerated slowness, licking away every trace of the creamy substance. Her tongue circled her mouth, lingering on her full, pink lips as if she couldn’t get enough of the taste. The way her tongue glided over her lips, dragging the cream across every curve, was a move meant to entice, to draw his attention to how she tasted, how she wanted to be savored.  

---

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His cock twitched as her hand continued rubbing over the fabric, the sensation so intense he thought he might explode. But just as he was losing control, her hand pulled away, the sound of Tanya’s husband speaking from across the table snapping him back to reality.


Afrah’s POV: 


A teasing smile curled on her lips as she excused herself to washroom. She felt victorious ,as Vishal attention now completely on her .

As she finished in the washroom, a hand suddenly gripped her waist, slamming her against the wall, and a fierce kiss followed. She recognized it was Vishal, just like the last time when she had been with Sohail for dinner.

Breathless, he whispered against her lips, “You think you can tease me and leave me hanging?” His voice was thick with lust, tinged with frustration. He kissed her again, his hand sliding down to her ass, squeezing it hard. She moaned, briefly surrendering to the kiss, but the reality of where she was snapped her back.

“No, Vishal,” she said, stopping him.

He pulled back, smirking. “Fine. I’ll go to Tanya. She’ll take care of it,” he said, pointing to his bulge, his eyes dark with challenge.


Afrah: "No, you're not going anywhere near that slut."


Vishal: "It needs to be taken care of, if not by you, then by someone else,"

Afrah: "I said, you're not going anywhere near that slut,"



He: "Then you’ll have to take care of it,"

Her mind raced, her breath catching as her gaze once again flicked down to the tent in his pants, the bulge painfully obvious. 

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "You’re responsible for this. You should take care of it."

The image from last night flooded her mind—imagining herself holding him, her bare hands against his skin, with nothing between them.

Slowly, her hand moved to the bulge, trembling slightly as it found his belt. With deliberate care, she unbuckled it, her fingers grazing the fabric of his pants as she unzipped them. She pushed the pants down to his thighs, her eyes locking onto the strained bulge beneath his underwear. 

His cock looked like it was struggling to break free, the fabric barely containing it. Her hand hesitated for a moment before hooking onto the waistband of his underwear. She pulled it down slowly, and with a sudden motion, it sprang free, hard and throbbing before her.



His cock was enormous, veins snaking along its length, making it both intimidating and mesmerizing. Her breath hitched as she looks at it she bit her lip, torn between curiosity and desire. Slowly, almost hesitantly, her hand moved toward it. The moment her fingers brushed against his heated skin, a jolt shot through her body, stealing her breath and freezing her in place. 

For the first time, she was touching something so intimate, a cock , and the sensation was electrifying, unlike anything she’d ever known. She attempted to wrap her fingers around him, but his sheer thickness made it impossible. Her palm pressed against his cock, feeling the veins throbbing beneath her touch, radiating heat and a primal energy that sent a shiver down her spine. 


“Oh God,” escaped her lips as her breathing grew heavy. Her hand remained frozen, simply holding him, feeling the weight and heat against her palm.

Vishal : “Afrah, do it.”

Her fingers began to move hesitantly, stroking him with slow, deliberate motions. The heat of his skin under her soft hand was almost too much, and her eyes stayed fixed on his cock—enormous and unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

She watched in awe as her strokes revealed the glistening head, only for the skin to slide back down with each movement. The sight was hypnotic, her focus locked on how it shifted and moved, her touch exploring every inch with a mix of wonder and nervous excitement. She was completely captivated, lost in the moment.



It’s so big and thick, she thought, her own body betraying her as she felt herself getting wet while stroking him with one hand. Vishal stepped back and sat on the edge of the washroom basin, his cock now standing upright at a sharp 90-degree angle.  

She brought her other hand into play, wrapping both around his thick shaft. Even then, more of him remained exposed, his cock straining against her grip. The deep, dark skin of his cock stood in stark contrast to the pale tone of her hands, making the movement even more captivating as she stroked him. 


Her eyes were fixed on his cock, watching the foreskin slide up and down, each movement a mesmerizing dance. Without even realizing it, her thumb traced the sensitive head when the foreskin slid back, causing Vishal to let out a low, guttural moan. The sound sent a shiver through her, the raw, primal noise adding to the heat of the moment. She could hear the slick movement of her hand gliding over him, the sound of each stroke echoing in the room. Vishal’s moan only made her more confident, her strokes becoming faster, more enthusiastic, as she relished in the rhythm they were creating together.


Her nipples were becoming hard, pressing against the fabric of her dress, and she was completely soaked, her arousal undeniable. Yet, her hands continued to stroke Vishal’s engorged cock, their forbidden act unfolding in the washroom where anyone could walk in at any moment. Neither of them cared.  

She felt a raging fire deep within her, an ache that begged for relief, as her eyes fixated on the head of his cock. A bead of liquid was forming at the tip, glistening under the light. The sight was unbearably arousing. Her thumb instinctively traced over the slick bead, feeling its sticky warmth, sending a thrill through her. her hand continued to stroke him, her fingers and palm became slick with his pre-cum. Each slow movement spread the wetness across his hard cock, making the strokes smoother, more fluid. The sensation was sticky but intoxicating, and his cock began to glide with ease, glistening with each passing moment, the rhythmic sound of her touch growing louder, heightening the tension between them.

Afrah was so lost in the act that she didn’t hear the washroom door creak open.

Tanya’s voice broke through, sharp and accusing.  
Tanya: "You slut! I knew something was wrong! Don’t you have any shame, doing that in the washroom?"

Afrah didn’t stop. If anything, Tanya's words only fueled her anger—and heightened her arousal. Her hand moved faster, and the sounds from Vishal grew louder, making him whimper.

Afrah: "Go back to the table, you dirty whore. Don’t you see we’re busy?"

Tanya’s gaze flickered over to Vishal, her face a mixture of confusion and anger.  

Afrah: "What are you staring at him for? Go away, you slut."

Tanya: "Vishal—"

Afrah: "He won’t listen to you. Now go. Just... go."

Tanya left the washroom angrily.

With a victorious smile, she focused on Vishal, watching him intently. She heard his strangled whimper, his body tense and rigid, muscles flexing as if struggling to hold back. The sight of him unraveling at her touch sent a wicked thrill coursing through her veins, a surge of exhilaration that filled her with newfound power. She was in control—control of his body, control of him. Each movement she made, each stroke, deepened her hold, her confidence growing with every sound he made, every flinch of his muscles.

He: "Oh, fuck, Afrah," he groaned, his voice raw, the words dripping with desperation.  

Her lips parted, a soft, shaky whimper slipping out in response as she watched him, completely captivated by his surrender.  

And then it hit her—the sudden, sharp pulse in her hand as his cock jerked violently. She didn’t stop, her strokes growing slower, firmer, teasing him right to the edge. His head tipped back, his jaw tight as he bit back a guttural moan.  

The first jet of hot, sticky release shot out, splattering across her chest in thick, erratic streaks, painting her skin through the fabric. The sensation was shocking, warm, and almost sinful. She froze for a second, stunned, but her hand continued, her fingers instinctively tightening around him.  

Another stream followed, weaker but no less intense, landing in glistening drops on the floor tiles. Her palm slid over his length, now slick and wet with his release, the creamy fluid spreading with every stroke. The sound of her movements was unmistakable, wet and rhythmic, echoing in the confined space.  

Vishal sagged against the basin, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. She stared at her hand, now coated in his thick, sticky cum, glistening under the bathroom light like a forbidden trophy.



To be continued