Fantasy Immersive sex story for men

[Naruto411]

The heat of the morning sun filters through the curtains, heavy and relentless. Your head pounds slightly, sleep clinging to the edges of your awareness, but the insistent pressure between your legs draws your attention more. You blink, groggy, your vision sharpening to the sight of her on her knees just outside your bedroom door.

The maid—your maid—is scrubbing the marble floors, her body moving in a steady, mesmerizing rhythm. Her saree clings to her in ways you can't ignore, damp with effort, the curve of her waist exposed where the fabric has shifted. The line of her back arches as she leans forward, her breasts pressing against the thin material of her blouse. Your cock twitches, pulsing against the confines of your pants, and the voice in your head murmurs.

"Look at her,"it whispers, smooth and unrelenting. "Sweat glistening on her skin, that curve of her waist. Those lips. She’s a vision, isn’t she? A goddess scrubbing your floors."

You feel the heat rising, the pulse in your groin growing insistent. Her hair is tied up in a loose knot, and a few stray tendrils stick to her damp neck. You imagine running your fingers through that hair, tugging it back to reveal more of her. The voice purrs again.

"What’s stopping you? You’ve seen the way she looks at you, haven’t you? The way her lashes flutter when you speak, how her eyes dart away when your gaze lingers too long. She’s curious. She’s waiting."

Your heart pounds harder as you step closer, your feet soundless on the cool marble. The scent of her sweat mingles with the faint floral aroma of her skin, an intoxicating mix that stirs the animal in you. You catch the sheen on her arms, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she exhales. She doesn’t notice you yet, too focused on her work.

"What would it take?" the voice wonders, teasing you. "A kind word? A soft touch? Or maybe she’d need more. A promise. A secret. A price. What do you think she’d do if you reached for her? If you let her know what you want?"

You clear your throat, your voice low and thick. "Good morning."

Her head snaps up, startled, and for a moment, her wide eyes meet yours. There’s something there—innocence, perhaps, but laced with something unspoken, something that lingers in the air between you. She straightens slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Good morning, sahib," she replies softly, her voice sweet but tinged with a hesitance that only fuels the hunger clawing at your insides.

Her saree shifts again as she moves, giving you a glimpse of the swell of her hip. Your eyes betray you, tracing the lines of her body, the way the fabric clings and pulls, damp with effort. She notices, a flicker of awareness flashing in her gaze before she looks away. The voice is relentless now, pushing you forward.

"Offer her something. Money. Comfort. A reason to say yes. You know she wants to—she has to feel it too, doesn’t she? That heat between you, that unspoken understanding. Her lips would part for you, her body would melt under your hands."

Your arousal is impossible to ignore now, pressing hard against your pants. You shift slightly, adjusting yourself, and you catch her eyes flicker downward before darting away again. The tension tightens, the voice practically purring with satisfaction.

"She knows," it murmurs. "She’s waiting. Say the word. Make her yours."

[Naruto411]

Suggest name of the maid and post reference image who you are imagining as maid

[Naruto411]

The single-bedroom flat was still, save for the faint hum of the fan slicing through the heavy morning air. You stood there in nothing but your boxers, the waistband barely containing the throbbing erection that refused to subside. The maid had just left, leaving behind the scent of her soap and the faint aroma of freshly cooked tiffin lingering in the room.

You couldn’t help but replay the way she moved as she worked—efficient, focused, her hips swaying with each step, her saree hugging her curves just enough to drive you mad. She was young, too young to be trapped in this life, but just old enough for the thoughts in your head to twist into something darker.

"Did she notice?" the voice in your head murmured, sly and teasing. "When you adjusted yourself as she walked past? When your eyes followed her every move, lingering on her waist, her ass, the soft outline of her breasts under that blouse?"

You paced the flat, restless, your body buzzing with need. Her backstory—daughter-in-law? Niece?—barely registered in your mind. You hadn’t bothered to ask; it didn’t matter. What mattered was the way her submissive nature mirrored her father-in-law’s. The old watchman had a permanent stoop to his shoulders, a meekness that made him easy to manage. He liked you, respected you even, because you slipped him a little extra for washing a car you didn’t even own. That bought you his silence, his blind eye to anything you might do or say.

"She’s part of his world," the voice continued, coaxing. "A pawn in his little game. But here, inside these walls? She’s yours to command. She can feel it, can’t she? That shift in power when you’re around? That’s why she won’t meet your gaze directly, why her hands tremble just slightly when she serves you your food."

You glanced toward the door, wondering if she was still in the stairwell, lingering, adjusting her saree after the sweat and work of the morning. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. You had leaned in too close earlier, deliberately standing over her as she reached to adjust the gas stove, her body inches from yours. You were almost sure you saw her cheeks flush, though she didn’t say a word.

"She’s used to men looking," the voice hissed. "But not like this. Not with this hunger. She’s curious, maybe even eager to know what it would feel like to have you touch her, to let you take what you want. What would she do if you pulled her close next time, whispered something filthy in her ear?"

You imagined her reaction—shock, followed by the slow, shy bloom of desire as she gave in. The image was enough to make your cock ache painfully, straining against the thin fabric. Your hand drifted downward, palming yourself lightly as your thoughts spiraled.

The flat was quiet, the only sound your breathing and the faint echo of her footsteps in your mind. You didn’t even bother to pull on more clothes. What was the point? This was your space, your world, and she was a part of it now, whether she realized it or not.


The flat was too damn quiet, except for the thrum of your own pulse pounding in your ears. You stood there, half-naked, your cock straining so hard it almost hurt. That fucking maid. The way she strutted around in that cheap saree, the fabric clinging to her sweaty curves, her tits bouncing just a little too freely under that flimsy blouse—fuck, it was like she wanted to be watched. Like she knew you’d be standing there, eyes glued to her, drinking in every fucking inch of her body like the desperate pervert you were.

"She’s such a dirty little tease," the voice in your head growled, sharp and filthy. "Did you see the way she bent over when she scrubbed that floor? Ass up, practically begging for you to rip that saree off and ram your cock into her dripping cunt. You could see the outline of her panties through the fabric, couldn’t you? Bet they were soaked."

Your hand drifted to your cock, palming it through your boxers, and fuck, you were already leaking. You let out a low groan, the kind you didn’t bother to stifle. No one was here to hear you. The old watchman downstairs wouldn’t dare say a word even if he did. That spineless bastard owed you for all the extra cash you threw his way—cash you knew probably went to this slut of a maid, his little niece or daughter-in-law or whatever the fuck she was. Not that you cared. She was yours the second she stepped into your flat.

You thought about how she’d looked earlier, the way her hair stuck to her sweaty neck, the hollow of her throat glistening. Her blouse had clung to her tits like a second skin, the dark circles of her nipples faintly visible through the thin material. You’d stood behind her, your cock rock-hard, hoping for just a glimpse down her blouse, for the slightest peek at those round, perfect tits.

"Fucking whore knows what she’s doing," the voice snarled, urging you on. "Walking around like that, bending over right in front of you. Did she catch you staring? Did she feel your eyes on her cunt, wondering if it’s as tight as it looks?"

You didn’t even try to stop yourself as you pulled your cock free, the swollen head already slick with pre-cum. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slow and hard as you imagined her on her knees, those big, innocent eyes looking up at you while her mouth wrapped around your cock. You’d grab her by the hair, make her choke on it, watch as spit and tears streamed down her face.

"You’d love that, wouldn’t you?" the voice purred, dark and insistent. "Turn her into your personal little cumslut. Fill her mouth, her pussy, her tight little ass. Make her beg for it, make her scream your name. You know she’d fucking love it."

Your strokes quickened, your grip tightening as your imagination ran wild. You pictured her bent over the counter, her saree hiked up, panties shoved aside as you rammed into her soaking cunt. She’d be dripping, her pussy clenching around you, her moans echoing through the flat. You’d slap her ass, watch it jiggle, hear her gasp and beg for more.

"Fuck, you filthy little whore," you growled out loud, the words spilling from your lips unbidden. Your breathing grew ragged, the tension coiling tighter in your gut as you imagined the way she’d look afterward—her hair a mess, her cunt dripping with your cum, her pretty little mouth curved into a satisfied, submissive smile.

The thought pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering as hot streams of cum spilled over your hand, your cock twitching in your grasp. You leaned back against the wall, chest heaving, the echoes of your filthy thoughts still buzzing in your head.

The flat was silent again, but all you could think about was when she’d be back.

[fuckandforget]

Great narration

[Naruto411]

The morning sun beat down as you stepped out of your flat, the rush of hot air from the corridor hitting your face. You adjusted the strap of your bag lazily, your mind not on your upcoming classes, but on the thought of finding someone—someone open, willing, eager to be molded into your personal plaything. You didn’t need friends, not really. Not when the idea of bending someone to your will had you harder than any silly conversation ever could.

The sound of voices caught your attention as you locked your door. Across the corridor, the bald man from next door—uncle, as you mockingly referred to him in your head—was buttoning up his shirt, clearly late for work. His daughter followed close behind, her books clutched to her chest. She was young, too young, and you barely spared her a second glance as she chirped, “Hai, anna!” in her bright, naive voice.

You offered a nod, a polite enough "Hai," without breaking stride. Uncle, however, wasn’t content to let it end there. He turned, gesturing proudly toward you. “You know, this boy cracked JEE Mains with an All India Rank of 24! Top college, mechanical engineering. A bright future ahead, you’ll see.”

You half-smiled, trying not to roll your eyes. He’d clearly heard it from his wife—akka, as you called her when she wasn’t around to feel the sarcasm in your tone. Last week, you’d helped her haul some rice bags into the flat. She had been struggling, beads of sweat rolling down her temples, her blouse sticking to her chest in all the right ways. You’d taken the chance to flex a little, dropping your rank and college into the conversation like spare change. She’d been impressed, and you’d caught the glint in her eyes as she’d smiled, wiping her forehead with the edge of her pallu.

"She liked that," the voice in your head murmured now, as it always did when you thought about her. "A young, smart, successful boy, strong enough to help her and sharp enough to brag about it. Her husband might be called a ‘ stud ’ by the neighbors cause he got this arabian horse like wife , but we both know who she’s imagining someone in  her bed."

Uncle’s voice dragged you back to the present. “I keep telling her,” he said, gesturing to his daughter, “study hard, and she could get into a top college like you someday.”

The girl smiled shyly, clearly uncomfortable with the comparison, and you forced another polite nod. “All the best for your studies,” you said, your tone neutral, already moving past them. She wasn’t the target of your thoughts; she was too innocent, too unformed. But her mother? Now that was a different story.

As you made your way to the stairs, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to akka. She was one of those rare women who seemed frozen in time, her body defying age in ways that made you ache just thinking about her. Her full hips, her generous breasts, the way her saree always seemed to cling just a little too tightly—it was enough to make you want to invent reasons to knock on their door, just to catch another glimpse.

"She’s ripe for the taking," the voice teased. "You’ve seen the way she looks at you, haven’t you? The way her smile lingers, the way she brushes past you just a little too closely? She knows you’re young and hungry, and you know she’s got needs that her ‘stud’ of a husband isn’t fulfilling."

Your cock stirred at the memory of her, the way her ass swayed as she led you into their flat, her laugh soft and throaty as she thanked you for your help. You’d caught her adjusting her saree as you left, her eyes darting up to meet yours before quickly looking away. She’d been blushing. That much you were sure of.

"You’ll have her eventually," the voice promised as you stepped into the sunlight outside. "It’s only a matter of time before akka’s yours."

[sri7869]

Good start

[Naruto411]

The engine of your bike growled low as you weaved through the morning traffic, the rush of wind doing little to cool the heat that pulsed through you. It wasn’t the sun that was making you sweat. No, it was the promise of what lay ahead—the campus teeming with women who seemed to have stepped straight out of a fever dream.

You parked your bike, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and stepped into the world that had quickly become your personal playground. The college was a feast for the eyes, and fuck, were you starving. Girls strolled across the lush green lawns and wide paths like they owned the place, each one a walking advertisement for temptation.

There were the ones in tight jeans that hugged their hips like a second skin, every curve on display with no shame. The ones in sleeveless kurtis, their arms bare, the fabric dipping low enough to tease at their cleavage. And then there were the t-shirts—thin, tight, sometimes sheer in the morning light, their nipples faintly visible beneath the fabric like little whispers daring you to stare.

Your cock stirred in your pants as your gaze wandered. Everywhere you looked, there was something to make your blood rush south. A girl with a messy ponytail leaned over a table to grab her phone, her neckline dipping to reveal the swell of her breasts. Another strutted past you in a short kurti, her waist bare, her hips swaying like she knew you were watching. Fucking minx.

Even the female teachers weren’t safe. There was one you spotted near the canteen, her saree so well-fitted it was practically sculpted to her body. Her blouse was cut low, her cleavage peeking out just enough to make you imagine what lay beneath. Another walked past in a sleeveless salwar suit, her sharp, intellectual air only making her that much hotter.

"You’re in heaven," the voice in your head purred, dark and encouraging. "Everywhere you look, there’s something to make your cock throb. That one with the big tits, leaning against the wall—she’d look so good on her knees, wouldn’t she? And the one in jeans, fuck, imagine peeling them off her hips, finding out just how tight she is."

You adjusted your bag to cover your growing hard-on, biting back a groan as your eyes settled on another girl, her dupatta slipping off her shoulder as she walked. The curve of her waist, the sway of her ass—it was too much. Your mouth went dry, your mind racing with filthy possibilities.

The day hadn’t even started, and you were already imagining what it would be like to have one—or all—of them moaning under you, their perfect bodies yours to explore. College was turning out to be a better deal than you’d ever imagined.

[Naruto411]

You sat on the worn wooden bench in the corner of the room, your hands gripping the edges as your senior paced back and forth, her voice dripping with authority. She was giving you some nonsense instructions about how a junior should “respect traditions” and “obey seniors” during ragging season, but fuck, you couldn’t focus on a single word.

Your eyes had locked on her from the moment she stepped in. The snug fit of her kurti clung to her curves like it was made for her and her alone. But it wasn’t just the fit—it was the way the neckline plunged, teasing you with a view of her cleavage. Her skin was smooth, glowing in the soft light of the room, and every movement she made sent a subtle bounce through her chest that had your cock stirring relentlessly in your jeans.

"Goddamn," the voice in your head whispered. "Look at those tits. She knows exactly what she’s doing, wearing that. She wants you to stare. She likes it."

You tried to fight it—tried to force your gaze to the floor, to her eyes, anywhere else. But your traitorous eyes kept drifting down, following the curve of her body, the way her dupatta barely clung to her shoulder, offering no protection to the display of skin that had you going mad. The heat in the room felt suffocating, and you shifted uncomfortably, adjusting your position to hide the obvious bulge forming beneath your belt.

She noticed. How could she not? Your stare was burning into her, tracing every inch of her body like you were trying to memorize it. Her voice faltered for a moment, her eyes flicking toward you, wide and unsure. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, her authority cracking as she caught the intensity of your gaze.

"Shit, she’s shy," the voice goaded, amused. "She’s flustered because she can feel how much you want her. Look at her squirm—bet she’s imagining what you’d do if you had her alone."

She crossed her arms over her chest in a feeble attempt to shield herself, but all it did was push her cleavage together, making it even harder for you to think straight. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, to call you out, but no words came. Instead, she turned slightly, trying to regain her composure, her confidence faltering under the weight of your gaze.

The air between you was charged, electric, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you stepped closer, closed the gap, let her know exactly what she was doing to you. But for now, you stayed rooted to the spot, your heart racing, your mind spinning with possibilities.



Her tone shifted suddenly, the shyness melting away as she crossed her arms and gave you a stern look. “Follow me,” she said, her voice all business now, but there was something in her eyes—something unreadable that sent a shiver down your spine. “You need to help me move some furniture in my room. Now.”

You swallowed hard, nodding like a guilty collegeboy caught doing something he shouldn’t. Your mind raced as you followed her, the sway of her hips leading you down the corridor toward her dorm room. She didn’t look back, but the tension between you hung heavy, thickening with every step.

She unlocked the door, stepping inside and motioning for you to follow. The first thing you noticed wasn’t the furniture. No, it was the chaos of her room—clothes scattered everywhere, bras hanging from the edges of her bed, lacy panties dbangd over her chair. Your eyes widened as they darted to a sheer black lingerie set lying haphazardly on her desk. The delicate straps and see-through fabric screamed sex in a way that made your cock twitch again, even though you desperately tried to will it down.

“Start with the bed,” she said, acting like she hadn’t noticed where your gaze had wandered. But as you bent down to move the frame, she caught the bulge in your jeans, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Seriously?” she snapped, her hands on her hips. “You’re getting a boner *again*?”

You froze, straightening up with an apologetic expression. “I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to adjust yourself subtly. “I didn’t mean to—”

She cut you off with a sharp exhale, rolling her eyes. “Thank god I didn’t ask anyone else to help. Do you even realize what would’ve happened if someone else saw you like this? They’d think you’re some pervert who can’t keep it together.”

Her words stung, but there was no venom in her voice. Instead, her tone was almost… protective. She wasn’t mad about the boner itself—no, she was annoyed at the situation, the risk, the idea that someone else might catch you like this. And that realization sent a thrill through you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again, genuinely this time. But your eyes betrayed you, darting back to her for just a second too long. Her kurti was tighter than you’d realized, the swell of her breasts rising and falling as she sighed heavily, clearly trying to decide whether to let this slide.

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath before turning to grab a pile of clothes from her desk. Her movements were sharp and deliberate, but the way her fingers lingered on the lingerie—folding it carefully, almost reverently—made your stomach flip.

“Just focus on moving the furniture,” she said finally, her back to you. But the air between you was charged, her earlier scolding doing nothing to dispel the tension. If anything, it only heightened it, making you hyper aware of every glance, every word, every brush of her hand as the two of you worked in the confines of her cluttered, intimate space.


As you set the last piece of furniture in place, wiping a sheen of sweat from your forehead, she leaned back against her desk, arms crossed, studying you with an unreadable expression. The chaos of the room had been tamed, her bed and belongings neatly arranged—but the tension between the two of you lingered, thick and palpable.

“You know,” she began, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “Uh, thanks… I guess?” you replied, unsure of where this was going.

She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, a touch of pink creeping up her cheeks. “What I mean is… I like you. You’re honest, even if you’re a bit of a perv. And…” She hesitated, biting her lip before continuing. “I think we could make something work. Something… casual.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, your heart pounding as you processed what she’d just said. “You mean… like, friends with benefits?” you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

She nodded, looking down briefly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her kurti. “Yeah. No strings, no drama. Just… fun. If you’re into that.”

Before you could respond, she stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. It was sudden, almost impulsive, and you froze for a moment before your arms wrapped around her. Her body pressed against yours, soft and warm, her scent filling your senses. The closeness was intoxicating, and you couldn’t stop the inevitable reaction as your cock stiffened against her.

She felt it—there was no way she couldn’t have. Her body tensed for a split second before she pulled back slightly, her face flushed a deep red. “You…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes darting everywhere except at you. “You’re hard again.”

“I—sorry,” you stammered, your words tumbling over each other. “I can’t help it. You’re—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. Her cheeks were still burning, but there was something else in her expression—something almost shy. “I… guess that’s a compliment.”

The air between you felt charged, your bodies still close enough to feel each other’s warmth. You could see the nervous flutter of her lashes, the way her chest rose and fell with each quickened breath. This wasn’t the same confident girl who had bossed you around earlier—this was someone letting her guard down, and it made your pulse race even more.

“So,” she said finally, her voice barely audible, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before darting away. “Are you in?”

You nodded, your throat dry, your heart thundering in your chest. “Yeah,” you managed to say, your voice rough with anticipation. “I’m in.”


As soon as you said yes, she hesitated for a moment, then stepped toward the door. The soft click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine. She turned back to you, her cheeks still faintly pink, but her lips curved in a mischievous smirk.  

“I figured you’d say yes,” she murmured, her voice low and almost teasing.  

Your eyes followed her as she walked past you to the bed, her hips swaying just enough to make your cock throb painfully against your jeans. She sat down, her fingers toying with the edge of her kurti, before looking up at you with a boldness that made your breath catch.  

“So,” she said, tilting her head slightly, “looks like you need some… relief.”  

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body on fire. “I—yeah. Fuck, yeah.”  

She smirked at your stumbling, then stood up again, her hands going to the hem of her kurti. In one smooth motion, she pulled it off over her head, revealing the lingerie underneath—the same set you’d seen earlier, now clinging to her body like a second skin.  

The sheer black fabric left little to the imagination. The cups of the bra were delicate lace, barely covering her nipples, while the straps framed her breasts in a way that made your mouth water. The panties were just as sinful, high-cut and teasingly sheer, showing off the curve of her hips and the faintest hint of what lay beneath.  

“Now you see why lingerie matters,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement as she caught the way your eyes devoured her.  

“Holy fuck,” you muttered, your hands itching to reach out and touch her. Your cock strained painfully against your jeans, and you had to resist the urge to rip them off right then and there.  

She stepped closer, her fingers trailing lightly over your chest before dipping lower. “Let me help you with that,” she said softly, her hands finding the button of your jeans.  

You groaned as she unzipped you, freeing your aching erection. Her eyes flickered down, widening slightly before she bit her lip, her expression a mix of curiosity and desire. “Not bad,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around you, her touch firm and warm.  

The feel of her fingers on you made your knees weak, and when she dropped to her knees, still clad in that mind-melting lingerie, you thought you might lose it right then.  

“Relax,” she said, looking up at you through her lashes as she stroked you slowly, teasingly. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”  

Her lips parted, and as she took you into her mouth, her lingerie-clad body was the only thing you could focus on—the way the straps of her bra hugged her shoulders, the way the lace framed her curves, the way her thighs pressed together as she worked you with her tongue.  

You’d never been more thankful for sheer black lace in your entire life.


The moment her lips wrapped around your cock, you knew—she wasn’t just teasing. She was *experienced*. The way her tongue moved was deliberate, circling the sensitive head with just enough pressure to make you groan. Her lips gripped your length firmly, creating a seal that sent waves of heat coursing through your body as she slid down, taking you deeper.  

It was hypnotic. The way your shaft disappeared between her lips, then reappeared glistening as she pulled back, her tongue flicking against the underside—it was like a rhythmic dance, each motion designed to drive you closer to the edge.  

You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved to her hair, gathering the soft strands to keep them out of her face as she worked. It wasn’t just to help—it was to feel the connection, to ground yourself as her mouth sent you spiraling into pleasure.  

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and that look—half challenge, half satisfaction—made your breath hitch. Her lips stretched around you, her cheeks hollowing as she increased her pace, the wet sounds filling the room.  

You tightened your grip on her hair, not pulling but holding, guiding, your hips instinctively twitching forward. She didn’t flinch, didn’t gag—she just took you deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate you.  

The sensation was overwhelming, her tongue swirling around you even as her lips moved in perfect, tight strokes. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t stop watching her—couldn’t stop marveling at the way she moved, the confidence, the skill, the sheer sensuality of it all.  

“Fuck,” you groaned, your voice rough as your hips bucked slightly. “You’re… incredible.”  

She hummed around you in response, the vibration sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through you. Her hands gripped your thighs for balance, her nails digging in just enough to leave a hint of sting, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.  

The combination of her lips, her tongue, and the way her lingerie-clad body moved in sync with her motions was enough to undo you completely.


She stood up, her lips glistening from her work, and with a sultry look, she walked over to the bed. Her hips swayed with every step, and she glanced back at you with a knowing smile before climbing onto the mattress, her lingerie-clad form stretching out like a tempting invitation.  

“I think it’s time we go further,” she said, her voice low and filled with desire. She leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows, and looked at you expectantly. “Undo this for me.”  

Your hands trembled slightly as you approached her, the anticipation coursing through you. Slowly, you reached for the clasp of her bra, fumbling for only a moment before it came undone. The delicate straps slid off her shoulders, and as the fabric fell away, you were left breathless.  

She was perfection—a goddess sculpted from flesh. Her breasts were full and round, crowned with pink areolas that were soft yet firm, her nipples standing taut under your gaze. Her skin was flawless, smooth and glowing, inviting your touch.  

Your eyes traveled lower as she shifted slightly, slipping off her panties and revealing her most intimate self. She was clean-shaven, her skin soft and bare, the sight of her making your cock twitch painfully as you tried to take it all in.  

She noticed your reaction and smiled, her confidence radiating as she leaned back further, spreading her legs just enough to make your throat go dry. “Like what you see?” she teased, her voice carrying just the right amount of playfulness.  

“Holy shit,” you muttered, your voice hoarse, unable to look away. “You’re… perfect.”  

Her smile widened, and she reached out, pulling you closer to the bed. “Then don’t just stand there,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against your chest. “Show me how much you appreciate it.”

[Naruto411]

The moment your hands found her body, it was as if a dam had burst. Your fingers traced over her soft curves, gliding across her smooth thighs and up to her love handles. Her skin was warm under your touch, and her body responded to every caress, arching subtly, her breath hitching with each new sensation.  

When your mouth latched onto one of her pink, erect nipples, a gasp escaped her lips, her hand immediately tangling in your hair. She pulled your head closer, pressing you into her chest, the scent of her skin intoxicating.  

“Bas, haan, isi tarah,” she murmured in Urdu, her voice breathy and filled with desire. Her words sent a thrill through you, her tone both commanding and encouraging. “Tumhe kaisa lag raha hai? Pasand hai '. aurat ka maza?”  

Her mix of Urdu and Hindi was as erotic as her touch, the lewd phrases spilling from her lips like a spell meant to ignite your very soul. “Dekho kaise choos rahe ho, jaise pyaase ho,” she teased, her voice dripping with pleasure as she guided your mouth from one breast to the other.  

Your hands explored her freely now, kneading her soft breasts, squeezing her thighs, and marveling at the plushness of her hips. She was everything you’d ever fantasized about and more, her body responsive to your every move, her words only adding to the fire building between you.  

“Haan, tumhare haath kitne garam hain,” she purred, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pulled you even closer. “Kya tumhe '. aurat chahiye thi? Batao, bolo mujhe.”  

Her boldness only spurred you on, and as your lips moved down her body, tasting her skin, she continued to speak, her words both a taunt and an invitation. Every syllable was a promise of pleasure, and you were more than willing to fulfill it.


You didn’t reply; words felt unnecessary. Instead, your hands moved with purpose, gliding down her soft, trembling body until they found the warmth between her legs. She gasped, her thighs parting instinctively as your fingers brushed against her slick folds.  

Her breathing hitched, and her voice, already dripping with desire, turned into a stream of lewd words. “Haan, waha haath rakho… haan! Tumse yeh umeed nahi thi, lekin tum toh kamal karte ho,” she panted, her hips arching slightly to meet your touch. “Kya tumhe pata hai, tumhare haath kitne ache lagte hain?”  

Her wetness coated your fingers as you explored her, her body responding eagerly to every motion. Her words came faster now, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Tumhare jaisa ladka aur itni asliyat… Mujhe laga tha, tum sirf dekhne tak rukoge. Par tum toh… haan… tum toh sab kuch lena chahte ho.”  

You leaned in, your breath ghosting over her most sensitive area, and she whimpered. Without hesitation, you pressed your mouth against her, your tongue sliding through her wetness and flicking against her swollen clit. She cried out, her fingers tangling in your hair as her thighs closed around your head, holding you in place.  

“Oh, ,.'! Haan! Tum… tum mujhe pagal kar doge,” she moaned, her voice breaking into a mix of Urdu and Hindi. “Itna acha lagta hai… tumhari zubaan… haan, wahin! Wahin choosna!”  

Her hips bucked against your mouth as you worked her with your tongue, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, purposeful strokes. She couldn’t stop talking, her words spilling out uncontrollably. “Dekho, tum kitna mad kar rahe ho mujhe… Kya tumhe pata hai? Tumse achha mujhe kisi ne kabhi chua nahi!”  

Her wetness increased, dripping onto your tongue as her moans grew louder. Her lewd encouragement only made you more eager, your hands gripping her thighs to hold her steady as you devoured her completely.  

“Haan, tum yeh sab meri wajah se kar rahe ho… Tumhe maza aata hai '. aurat ko iss tarah lene mein, na?” she gasped, her body trembling under your touch. Her words, her taste, her raw, unfiltered desire—it was all driving you wild, and you didn’t stop until her thighs quivered, her cries echoing in the room, and her body melted beneath you.


As her body trembled beneath you, her orgasm washing over her, you finally lifted your head, her taste still lingering on your lips. You looked up at her, your breathing heavy, and a slow, wicked grin spread across your face.  

“So, this is what you wanted, huh?” you said, your voice low and dripping with vulgar confidence. “A dripping little '. whore begging to be licked like the filthy slut she is?”  

Her eyes widened at your words, but instead of shock, you saw delight—a wicked glint that matched your own. She smirked, her chest still rising and falling with shallow breaths. “Haan,” she murmured, her voice sultry and teasing. “Aur tumhe kya laga? Main tumhare saamne apne kapde nikalungi aur tum kuch bhi nahi karoge?”  

You laughed darkly, running a hand up her trembling thigh, your fingers brushing her still-sensitive center. “You loved it, didn’t you? Loved being spread open like a needy little slut while I tasted every inch of you.”  

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned forward, her hands pushing you onto your back. “Agar tum mujhe aise bulaoge,” she said, her voice soft but filled with desire, “toh mujhe dikhao tum kitna sambhal sakte ho.”  

Without waiting for a response, she straddled you, her hands moving to your rock-hard length. She glanced at you with a sly smile, then leaned down, her lips parting as she took you into her mouth.  

“Fuck,” you groaned, your hips jerking slightly as her warm, wet mouth enveloped you.  

Her tongue worked skillfully, swirling around the head before sliding down your shaft, her lips tight around you. She moaned softly, sending vibrations through you that made your cock twitch in her mouth.  

“Look at you,” you growled, gripping her hair lightly as she bobbed her head. “Such a good little cock-hungry slut, aren’t you? Taking me so deep, like you’ve been dying for this.”  

Her response was to take you deeper, her throat relaxing as she pushed herself further onto you, her eyes watering slightly as she swallowed you whole.  

“Yeah,” you groaned, your head falling back against the pillows. “That’s it, you dirty little whore. Show me how much you love choking on this cock.”  

Her moans grew louder, her hands gripping your thighs for support as she increased her pace, her saliva dripping down your shaft and pooling at the base. Her enthusiasm, combined with the lewd sounds filling the room, drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but thrust lightly into her mouth, her lips never faltering as she took everything you gave her.  

It was clear she enjoyed every filthy word, every rough touch, and you made sure to remind her exactly how much you appreciated her sinful dedication.  


You gently pulled her off your cock, her lips releasing it with a wet pop as she looked up at you, her eyes glassy with arousal. Without saying a word, you guided her onto all fours, her bare ass presented to you like an offering. She arched her back instinctively, pushing her hips up as her swollen, glistening pussy throbbed in anticipation.  

You positioned yourself behind her, running the tip of your cock teasingly along her slick folds, but not entering. She let out a frustrated whimper, her body shivering at the sensation. “Stop teasing,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Fuck me already.”  

“Not so fast,” you murmured, gripping her hips firmly to keep her in place as she tried to push back against you. “I want to know something first.”  

She let out a needy groan but didn’t resist. “What do you want to know?” she asked breathlessly, glancing over her shoulder.  

“Your first time,” you said, your voice low and commanding as you continued to tease her, your cock sliding against her folds without entering. “Tell me about it. Every detail.”  

Her breathing hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then, as your hand came down gently on her ass, urging her to answer, she began to speak.  

“It was… years ago,” she started, her voice soft but filled with a strange mix of shame and excitement. “I was 18, and he was… my cousin’s friend.”  

You froze for a moment, your curiosity piqued. “Go on,” you said, your voice steady, but your cock pressed more firmly against her entrance.  

She moaned softly at the sensation and continued. “It happened during a family wedding. He cornered me in one of the rooms and started flirting. I… I didn’t stop him when he kissed me. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, he had me bent over the bed.”  

Your grip on her hips tightened as her words painted a vivid picture. “Did you enjoy it?” you asked, your voice dripping with curiosity.  

She let out a shaky laugh. “I was scared, but yes, I enjoyed it. He was rough, and I liked how he took control. It was quick, though. He didn’t last long.”  

You smirked at her confession, your cock throbbing against her. “Sounds like he didn’t know what he was doing. Let me guess—he didn’t even make you cum.”  

She moaned, shaking her head. “No… he didn’t.”  

“Poor thing,” you said, your voice mocking yet playful as you finally pushed just the tip of your cock inside her, making her gasp. “Guess it’s my turn to show you how it’s done.”  

She let out a shuddering moan, her body trembling as you slowly slid deeper inside her, her words spilling out in a mix of lewd praise and desperate pleas. Whatever shocking memories she’d shared were now replaced by the overwhelming pleasure of your touch as you claimed her completely.


As you began to move, the sensation was overwhelming. Her pussy was hot, wet, and impossibly tight, clenching around you with every thrust. The slickness of her arousal coated your entire length, making each movement smoother, deeper, and more intense. The obscene, wet sounds of your cock plunging into her filled the room, mingling with her moans and the slap of skin against skin.  

Her words didn’t stop—if anything, they became even filthier as you fucked her. “Haan, le lo mujhe,” she moaned, her voice breathy and desperate. “Ab batao, kaise lagte hain '. ladki ke holes? Maza aa raha hai na? Tumhare jaise ladke ke liye hi toh bana hai yeh sab!”  

You couldn’t help but groan at her vulgar encouragement, gripping her hips tighter as you drove yourself deeper into her. “Fuck, you feel so good,” you growled, your voice ragged. “So tight, so wet. I could ruin this pussy all day.”  

She gasped, her body shuddering as she pushed back against you, meeting your thrusts. “Haan, karo mujhe barbad,” she panted. “Lekin suno… tumhe pata hai pehli baar ke baad kya hua?”  

Your curiosity was piqued, though your pace never faltered. “What happened?” you asked, your voice rough as you slammed into her, making her cry out.  

“Uske baad uska cousin bhi aaya,” she admitted, her voice a mix of shame and excitement. “Woh dono milke mujhe le rahe the. Mujhe uss waqt samajh hi nahi aaya, lekin mujhe achha lag raha tha. Phir…”  

Her words faltered as you hit a particularly deep spot, making her moan loudly. “Phir kya?” you demanded, your thrusts growing rougher as her confession fueled your arousal.  

“Phir ek uncle aa gaye,” she gasped, her voice breaking as you drove into her harder. “Woh dekh rahe the… aur phir woh bhi join kar liye. Main… main bas leti rahi, unka har ek touch… sab kuch.”  

The imagery her words conjured was shocking, dirty, and yet it only made you want her more. “So, you’ve been a little cum dump for years,” you growled, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.  

She cried out, her pussy clenching around you as if her body was agreeing. “Haan! Aur tum ab sabse achha le rahe ho. Batao, kaise lagta hai ek '. randi ka maza?”  

Her lewd confession and the way her body responded to you were too much. The way her pussy gripped you, her juices dripping down your shaft with every thrust, and her filthy words echoing in your ears—it was a heady mix of pleasure and domination. You leaned over her, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back as you growled into her ear.  

“You’re the filthiest slut I’ve ever fucked,” you said, slamming into her harder, making her scream. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”


As you drove yourself deeper into her, the sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room—wet, obscene, and raw. Her slickness made every thrust effortless yet overwhelming, the way her tight walls gripped you sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. Each time you pulled out, her juices clung to your shaft, glistening in the dim light before you plunged back in, eliciting a guttural moan from her throat.  

Her pussy was dripping, the wetness running down her thighs and pooling on the sheets beneath her. Every stroke of your cock sent shivers through her, and she gasped and panted with each movement. “Haan, aur tez!” she cried, her voice hoarse with desire. “Itna gehra lagta hai, tum mujhe tod doge!”  

Your hands roamed her body as you fucked her relentlessly, finding her full, soft breasts. You gripped them firmly, your fingers sinking into her warm flesh as she whimpered beneath you. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, and you pinched and rolled them between your fingers, drawing out louder moans from her.  

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” you growled, leaning over her to bite her shoulder gently before whispering in her ear. “So soft, so big… They were made to be played with while I fuck you.”  

Her back arched, pressing her ass harder against you as she pushed her chest into your hands. “Haan! Chuo mujhe, tumhare haath kaise lagte hain, bas tum jaano,” she gasped, her words dissolving into incoherent cries of pleasure as you increased your pace.  

The slap of your hips against her ass echoed in the room, mixing with her moans and the wet sounds of her dripping cunt. “You’re soaking me,” you growled, thrusting harder, your cock driving into her swollen, throbbing pussy. “Your filthy little hole is begging for it, isn’t it?”  

“Haan! Yeh sab tumhare liye hai!” she cried, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body trembled. “Tum jo chaho, le lo. Main tumhari randi hoon!”  

You leaned down, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer, your chest pressing against her back. Your other hand stayed on her breast, kneading it roughly as your cock pistoned into her. The angle made her scream, her juices now gushing over you with every thrust.  

Her pussy clenched around you tighter, her body shaking as she got closer to another orgasm. You felt her nipples harden even more under your touch, her cries turning into desperate pleas. “Bas… mujhe khatam kar do!” she begged, her voice trembling. “Mujhe aur chahiye!”  

Your breaths were ragged as you pounded into her, the sensation of her dripping heat, the bounce of her breasts in your hands, and the lewd noises driving you closer to the edge. “You’re mine,” you growled, biting her ear lightly as she moaned louder. “This pussy, these tits, this whole fucking body—they’re all mine to use.”  

“Haan!” she screamed, her walls tightening around you as her orgasm crashed over her, her juices spilling onto you as her body convulsed. The sensation pushed you further, and you lost yourself in the feeling, gripping her hips tighter as you chased your release.

The air in the room was thick with the sounds of raw passion—the wet slap of your thrusts, her breathless moans, and the filthy words she spewed between gasps. Her pussy was dripping, your cock plunging into her with a slick, obscene rhythm that sent shockwaves through both your bodies.  

Without breaking the tempo, you pulled out, leaving her trembling and gasping for more. “On your back,” you commanded, your voice rough and filled with need. She obeyed without hesitation, her legs parting automatically, offering herself to you.  

You grabbed her ankles, pushing her legs back toward her head. Her flexibility was astounding, her knees nearly touching her shoulders as her glistening pussy was spread wide before you. The position left her breasts heaving, her hardened nipples begging for attention.  

“Fuck, look at you,” you growled, lining yourself up again. “You’re so damn flexible… made for this.”  

“Haan, le lo mujhe,” she moaned, her voice dripping with lust. “Tumhare liye hi toh yeh sab hai. Dekho kaise khuli hoon tumhare liye.”  

You slid back into her slowly, savoring the way her walls clenched around you, her juices making every movement feel like heaven. Her head tilted back, her mouth open as she gasped at the depth you reached in this new position.  

“Deeper… tum mujhe tod doge,” she whimpered, her voice trembling as you began to move.  

Her words only spurred you on. Gripping her thighs to keep her legs in place, you thrust into her harder, your cock stretching her, filling her completely. The angle was perfect, hitting spots that made her cry out louder, her nails digging into the sheets as her body shook.  

The room was filled with the wet, rhythmic sound of your cock pounding into her. Her pussy was soaked, her arousal dripping down to the sheets as you drove her closer to the edge.  

“You love this, don’t you?” you growled, leaning down to capture one of her nipples in your mouth. You sucked and bit gently, your tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.  

“Haan! Mujhe tumhara har ek touch chahiye,” she panted, her hands reaching to grip your shoulders as she tried to pull you even closer. “Tum mujhe pagal kar rahe ho.”  

Your free hand moved down her body, caressing her soft curves, squeezing her hips, and finally sliding to where your cock disappeared into her. You found her clit, swollen and throbbing, and began to rub it in time with your thrusts.  

Her body arched, her back lifting off the bed as she screamed your name, her pussy clenching tighter around you. “Bas, mujhe aur le lo!” she cried, her voice breaking as her orgasm washed over her, her juices soaking your cock even more.  

But you didn’t stop. You kept thrusting, your cock pounding into her overstimulated pussy, drawing out every last moan, every tremble of her body. Her eyes locked onto yours, filled with lust and surrender.  

“Yeh sab tumhara hai,” she whispered, her voice soft but dripping with desire. “Mujhe bas tumhare liye banaya gaya hai.”  

Her words ignited something primal in you, and you slammed into her harder, your release building with every thrust. Her legs quivered in your grip, her body a trembling mess beneath you as you claimed her completely.

Your eyes flickered open as the realization hit you—a mix of arousal and frustration coursing through your body. The vivid dream lingered in your mind, the sensations almost too real to dismiss. But now, here you were, back in the lecture hall, the noise of shuffling feet and murmuring students grounding you in reality.  

You shifted slightly in your seat, your heart still pounding. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught her—*her*. The girl from earlier, the one whose teasing gaze and careful adjustments to her veil had left you mesmerized. She had noticed your reaction, you were sure of it. Her eyes had lingered, her lips parting slightly as if she was caught between shyness and intrigue.  

As if to torture you further, a soft voice interrupted your thoughts. “Excuse me,” it said, and you turned to see Sanvi sliding into the seat beside you. Her presence was like a balm and a curse all at once.  

Sanvi was stunning in a way that seemed effortless. Her skin was a warm, creamy tone that looked like it would melt under a single touch. She smelled faintly of jasmine, and her hair, tied loosely, framed her delicate features. Her kurti clung to her figure in just the right places, hinting at the curves beneath.  

She gave you a polite smile, but her eyes flickered downward for the briefest of moments—had she noticed? Your cock was still half-hard, a lingering reminder of the dream that had consumed you.  

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice sweet and lilting. “Is this seat taken?”  

You shook your head, your throat dry. “No, it’s all yours.”  

She settled in, her movements graceful yet tantalizing. Her arm brushed yours as she adjusted her bag, and the contact sent a jolt through you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at her, taking in the gentle slope of her neck, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.  

The lecture began, but your focus was torn. Between the memory of your dream and the reality of Sanvi’s proximity, your mind was in chaos. You glanced once more at the girl in the veil, catching her stealing a glance at you before quickly looking away.  

Sanvi noticed your distraction, leaning closer as she whispered, “Everything okay?”  

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just... tired.”  

But in truth, you weren’t tired—you were consumed. Between the lustful looks, the tantalizing proximity, and the lingering heat of your dream, it felt like you were caught in a web of desire you couldn’t escape.