Fantasy Unlishing Hell on My Auntie

[Abirkkz]

Part 1
My name is Akash, and the memories of my childhood still stir a restless ache in my heart. I was barely seven or eight when my parents would take me to my uncle’s house in Halisahar. It was a modest single-story home, with a small courtyard kissed by the shade of a mango tree in the back. My cousin Rima, a tiny bundle of mischief at three or four, and I would spend our days chasing each other across the courtyard, our laughter echoing under the sun. We’d play hide-and-seek beneath the mango tree’s sprawling branches, or share sticky bites of my aunt’s homemade sweets, giggling as we plotted our next prank. Rima, with her sparkling eyes and naughty grin, would tug at my shirt, her small hands pulling me into her whirlwind of joy. I’d scoop her up, spinning her around until she squealed with delight. My aunt, her face glowing with warmth, would watch us, sometimes teasing, “Akash, don’t spoil Rima too much, or she’ll climb all over you!” My uncle, always busy with his small shop, would chuckle softly, his presence a quiet anchor in our carefree world.
Those days were a dream, drenched in innocence and golden light. But dreams, like fragile glass, shatter too easily. I was thirteen when the world I knew crumbled. It was a rainy afternoon, the sky heavy with dark, brooding clouds. My parents were driving from Kolkata to Halisahar to pick me up, their second-hand Maruti humming along the slick roads. My mother, I was told, was humming a tune, her voice soft against the patter of rain. My father, focused on the wheel, didn’t see the truck until it was too late. The roads, treacherous with rain, betrayed him. The brakes screamed, but the car skidded, crashing into the truck with a sickening crunch. The security officer later said it was instant—my parents didn’t suffer. But I did. When the news reached me, I turned to stone, my mind refusing to process the truth. My small, perfect world shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The emptiness in my chest was a void, swallowing everything. The neighbor who broke the news held me as she sobbed, but my eyes stayed dry, as if tears would make it real. I sat in silence, clinging to the hope that this was a nightmare I’d wake from, that I’d see my parents again, smiling, waiting. But the nightmare never ended. At their funeral in Halisahar, my uncle pulled me into his arms, his voice thick with grief. “Akash, don’t worry. We’re here for you.” But my aunt’s face, once so warm, was distant, her eyes carrying a strange coldness. She moved through the rituals in silence, and when she looked at me, it was as if she saw a stranger.
With my parents gone, I had nowhere else to go. Our old house was rented out, the meager income meant for my education. My uncle insisted I stay with them. “Akash, this is your home now,” he said. So, at thirteen, burdened with grief and resentment, I moved into their home in Halisahar. The house, once a haven of joy, felt different now. The walls bore damp stains, the courtyard seemed smaller, and the mango tree’s shade no longer felt inviting. My uncle’s shop was struggling, and the air in the house grew heavy with unspoken tension.
At first, my uncle was kind, enrolling me in college, buying my books, and checking on me with a gentle concern. But my aunt’s behavior gnawed at me. Her smiles were gone, replaced by a coldness that made my skin prickle. When I entered a room, she’d fall silent or busy herself with chores, her eyes avoiding mine. One night at dinner, I ventured, “Auntie, did you cook meat today?” Her gaze sharpened, her voice cutting like a blade. “Akash, you’re growing up now. We have a household to run. Do you think we can afford meat every day?” The words sliced through me, and I lowered my head, swallowing my hurt with the bland dal and rice. That night, alone in bed, tears finally came, soaking my pillow as I drifted into a restless sleep.
Her coldness wasn’t a one-time sting. My aunt’s words and glances made it clear: I was a burden. When my shoes tore, I asked my uncle for a new pair. My aunt overheard and snapped, “Akash, do you think we have a money tree? Your uncle’s shop is barely surviving!” I said nothing, but the words burned into me. My uncle quietly bought me the shoes, but her resentment lingered, a constant reminder that I was an outsider. I began to feel like a guest in a house that was never truly mine.
Even Rima, my once-inseparable companion, had changed. At nine or ten, she was no longer the mischievous girl who clung to me. Her playful tugs at my shirt were gone, replaced by shy smiles and averted eyes. One day, I tried to rekindle our old games. “Rima, let’s play hide-and-seek in the courtyard!” She shook her head, her voice soft. “No, Akash da, I have to study.” Her eyes held a distance I couldn’t bridge, and I wondered if it was her own shyness or my aunt’s influence. I overheard my aunt once, her voice low but firm: “Rima, don’t spend too much time with Akash. He’s grown now.” Those words cut deeper than I could admit, and slowly, Rima and I stopped talking. The courtyard, once alive with our laughter, became a silent reminder of what I’d lost.
I felt like a ghost in that house, invisible yet heavy with presence. My uncle’s kindness couldn’t fill the void left by my aunt’s coldness or Rima’s withdrawal. I retreated into myself, my days a cycle of college and silence, my nights haunted by the weight of being unwanted. I knew I couldn’t stay.

So I decided to leave. The rent from my parents’ house and a small job I’d applied for gave me a sliver of independence. After college, I told my uncle, “I want to stand on my own feet.” He looked sad but nodded. “Do what feels right, Akash.” My aunt said nothing, her silence louder than words. Rima’s eyes met mine as I packed, a flicker of something unspoken in her gaze, but she stayed quiet. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I left behind the house that held my childhood memories, stepping into the unknown.
In the city, I tried to bury the past. Contact with my uncle’s family faded, but the sting of my aunt’s words and the ghost of Rima’s shy smile lingered. I told myself I’d move forward, unaware that fate would one day pull me back to them, igniting desires and secrets that would unravel everything.


Part 2
Leaving my uncle’s house felt like plunging into an uncharted sea, the waves of the city threatening to swallow me whole. I was twenty-one, armed only with a college degree and the meager rent from my parents’ old house. Kolkata was a beast—crowded, merciless, a concrete jungle that cared nothing for a village boy like me. I knew no one, had no place to call home, and the weight of survival pressed against my chest like a stone.
The first days were a blur of desperation. My first night was spent on a cold bench at a bus stand, the city’s pulse throbbing around me—honking buses, shouting hawkers, and the damp chill of the night air sinking into my bones. My shirt clung to my skin, soaked with sweat and fear. By day, I survived on cheap tea and bread from a roadside stall, each bite a reminder of my hunger—for food, for belonging, for a life that didn’t feel like punishment. At night, the city’s chaos quieted, but my mind roared with memories of the accident, my parents’ faces, and the coldness of my aunt’s voice. I whispered to myself, “Akash, you’re not alone. You’ll survive.”
After days of wandering, I found refuge in a slum—a cramped, tin-roofed room shared with six others. The walls were stained with damp, the floor covered with a thin sheet of plastic. In summer, the room was a furnace, the air thick with the stench of sweat and rotting drains. In the rains, water dripped through the roof, pooling on the floor. A broken latrine in the corner reeked, forcing me to cover my face to breathe. At night, the sounds of my roommates’ snores, groans, and the distant barking of dogs kept sleep at bay. I felt like a prisoner in a cage of poverty, my heart heavy with the weight of my aunt’s words and Rima’s distant eyes.
My roommates were men broken by the city. One, a rickshaw puller, drowned his exhaustion in cheap liquor, collapsing into a stupor each night. Another, a construction worker with calloused hands, wept for his wife back in the village, her silence a wound he couldn’t heal. I tried to connect with them, but my own grief kept me distant. I lay awake, wondering if this was my fate—a life of struggle in a city that didn’t want me.
Survival meant work, and I took whatever I could find. My first job was as a delivery boy, racing through Kolkata’s labyrinthine alleys on a rickety bicycle. The sun scorched my skin, sweat soaking my shirt until it clung to my chest like a second skin. My legs burned, my lungs heaved, but I pushed on. In the rains, the streets turned to sludge, my torn shoes squelching with every step. Once, I slipped on a slick road, my knee splitting open, blood mixing with the mud. I gritted my teeth, delivered the parcel, and kept going. The pay was barely enough for the slum’s rent and sparse meals—watery dal, stale rice, or a thin fish curry where the water outnumbered the fish. My body weakened, but my resolve didn’t. “Akash, you won’t break,” I told myself, clinging to a stubborn spark of defiance.

Months later, I found work at a construction site, hauling bricks and mixing cement from dawn to dusk. My hands grew rough, my fingers cracked and bled, my shoulders ached under the weight of heavy sacks. The other workers became my companions—Ramesh, who sang through the pain, and Shyamal, who cried for his distant wife. I laughed with them, but inside, I was hollow. I had no one waiting for me, no one to call my own.
Then I met Mina. She worked at the site, cooking for the laborers. Her dusky skin glistened with sweat, her saree clinging to her curves, accentuating the swell of her full breasts and the soft roll of her hips. At thirty, she carried a raw, earthy sensuality, her smile a flicker of warmth in my cold world. When she brought me tea, her saree would slip, revealing the smooth expanse of her thigh, the curve of her waist, or the deep valley between her breasts. My eyes lingered, my body stirring with a heat I couldn’t ignore. Her laughter was a tease, her voice soft as she said, “Akash, why do you work so hard? Smile a little!” Her words sparked a fire in me, a longing that pulsed through my veins. In my mind, I saw myself peeling her saree away, my hands kneading her heavy breasts, my tongue tracing the heat between her thighs, my cock pressing against her lush ass. My erection strained against my pants, but I held back, torn between desire and restraint.
The slum’s filth wore me down. The tin roof trapped heat, the dripping rain, the stench of the latrine—it was a prison of despair. One night, fever gripped me, my body trembling, my head spinning. I had no money for a doctor, only a stale paracetamol to dull the pain. As I lay on the plastic-covered floor, the sounds of the slum—groaning roommates, barking dogs, the reek of decay—closed in around me. I felt like I was dying, alone in a world that didn’t care.

Mina came to me that evening, her presence a sudden burst of light in my fevered haze. She knelt beside me, her hand cool against my burning forehead. “Akash, why didn’t you tell me you’re this sick?” she murmured, her voice laced with concern. Her touch sent a shiver through me, her saree slipping to reveal the curve of her breasts, the dark shadow of her cleavage. Her scent—sweat mixed with something primal—stoked the fire in my loins. As she dbangd a tattered blanket over me, her fingers brushed my chest, igniting a raw, aching need. I imagined tearing her saree away, sucking her taut nipples, licking the slick heat of her pussy until she moaned my name. My cock throbbed, but my fevered body was too weak to act.
She sat beside me, her hand stroking my hair, her thigh exposed under the bunched-up saree. Her skin was smooth, glistening, and I fantasized about spreading her legs, sliding my fingers into her wet folds, tasting her essence. “Akash, why do you suffer so much? I’m here for you,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. My hand trembled as it grazed her waist, slipping under her saree to caress the soft curve of her belly. Her breath hitched, her body yielding to my touch. I tugged her saree higher, my fingers brushing the damp heat of her pussy, her warmth making my cock pulse. But then she pulled away, her eyes flashing with fear. “Akash, this isn’t right. I have a husband,” she said, her voice trembling. My heart sank, but the fire in my body raged on. “Mina, I want you,” I rasped, my voice raw with need. She looked away, then left, her saree’s rustle echoing in my ears as shame and desire warred within me.
The fever passed, but Mina’s rejection lingered. I threw myself into work, trying to bury the ache. One day, she invited me to her home in the slum, a small, crumbling room as grim as mine. She cooked for me—rice, dal, a thin fish curry—her body moving with a grace that made my blood hum. Her saree clung to her curves, her breasts swaying as she worked, her ass a tantalizing curve under the fabric. I imagined pinning her against the wall, ripping her saree away, fucking her until she screamed my name. As she served me, her breast brushed my arm, sending a jolt through me. My cock strained, my mind clouded with lust.

Then the door burst open. Her husband, Kalu, stumbled in, reeking of liquor, his eyes bloodshot, his muscular body slick with sweat. “Who the fuck is this?” he roared, his voice a primal growl. Before I could speak, he grabbed Mina’s hair, yanking her toward him. “You’re fucking this bastard, aren’t you? Your pussy’s so hot you need this fucker to satisfy it!” Mina trembled, tears streaming down her face. “No, I was just feeding him!” she pleaded, but Kalu’s rage was unstoppable. He shoved her onto the bed, tearing her saree up to her waist, ripping her panties off. Her dusky thighs parted, her dark pubic hair glistening with sweat, her pussy exposed. My breath caught, my cock throbbing at the sight.
Kalu dropped his pants, his thick, veined cock springing free, the head swollen and red. He spread Mina’s legs and thrust into her, his hips slamming against her with brutal force. “You think this bastard fucked you like this?” he snarled, each thrust shaking the bed. Mina’s cries turned to moans, her body betraying her as pleasure overtook her shame. Her breasts bounced under her saree, her ass grinding against the mattress, her pussy glistening with arousal. “Oh… Kalu… stop…” she gasped, but her moans told a different story. My cock ached, my mind screaming with the urge to take her, to fuck her harder, to spill my cum across her trembling body. But I sat frozen, a voyeur to their raw, animalistic coupling.

Kalu finished with a grunt, his cum splattering across Mina’s pussy and belly, a filthy mark of possession. He collapsed, drunk and spent, his snores filling the room. The air was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and liquor, the damp walls and creaking bed amplifying the depravity. Mina rose, her saree clinging to her cum-slicked skin, her breasts heaving, her nipples hard against the fabric. She looked at me, her eyes a storm of shame and need, then threw herself into my arms. Her breasts pressed against my chest, her nipples grazing my skin, her scent driving me wild. My cock pulsed, my hands roaming her waist, her thighs, her wet pussy. “Mina, your body’s burning for me,” I whispered, my fingers teasing her slick folds. Her body trembled, her breath hot against my ear.
But then she shoved me away, her hand cracking across my face. “I thought you were different, Akash! You’re just like him, a filthy bastard!” she screamed, her eyes blazing with betrayal. “Get out!” Her words cut deeper than any knife, and I stumbled out into the slum’s filthy alleys, my body still throbbing with unspent desire, my heart heavy with shame.
Mina avoided me after that, her gaze cold when our eyes met at the site. The pain of her rejection fueled my resolve. I vowed to escape the slum’s grip. Years of toil led to a clerk’s job in a government office, the pay modest but steady. I left the slum for a small one-bedroom flat, a sanctuary of my own. My days were routine—tea and bread in the morning, work, then home to my quiet world. At night, I lost myself in porn, the screen filled with writhing bodies, women’s moans fueling my fantasies. I’d strip off my lungi, stroking my cock as I imagined fucking a woman senseless, her pussy gripping me, her ass shuddering as I came. My cum would stain the sheets, and I’d collapse, exhausted, into sleep.

But Mina’s touch, her scent, her moans—they haunted me, a forbidden fire that refused to die. I swore I’d rise above the slum, above the pain, but deep down, I knew the city had marked me, its desires and cruelties etched into my soul.

[Projectmp]

Interesting plot

[Abirkkz]

Part 3

I settled into a small one-bedroom flat on the edge of the city—a modest sanctuary with a single bedroom, a cramped dining area, and a tiny bathroom. My needs were few, and this space was enough to cradle my solitary existence. By day, I toiled in the office, my life a predictable rhythm of paperwork and routine. But when night fell, I retreated to my private world, where the walls seemed to pulse with the weight of my unspoken desires.
Living alone birthed a new habit, one that consumed me. As darkness enveloped the city, my mind grew restless, craving release. At first, I filled my evenings with movies, their flickering images a distraction from the void. But a colleague’s casual mention of porn sites—XVideos, Pornhub, and others—ignited a spark of curiosity. “Akash, you’re alone,” he teased, his voice low with mischief. “What’s the fun in life without indulging a little?” The names of those sites lingered in my mind, and in the quiet of my flat, I surrendered to temptation.
The first time I watched porn, it was as if lightning coursed through my veins. On the screen, a woman stripped bare, her body a canvas of curves, her moans a siren’s call as she writhed beneath a man’s relentless thrusts. Her full breasts bounced, her hips arched, and her cries of pleasure seared into my brain. My hand moved instinctively, gripping my hardening cock, stroking it as waves of heat surged through me. When I came, my body shuddered, the release washing away the weight in my chest. From that night, it became my ritual. Each evening, I’d lie in bed, phone in hand, lost in a world of naked flesh and primal lust. A dusky woman’s heavy breasts would set my pulse racing; a fair-skinned beauty’s round ass would make my cock iron-hard. I’d stroke myself, imagining my hands squeezing their flesh, my tongue tasting their slick heat, my cum painting their trembling bodies.
Sometimes, I explored my own body in the privacy of my bathroom. Standing before the mirror, I’d grip my cock, marveling at its hardness, testing how long I could tease myself before the pleasure became unbearable. One night, inspired by a video of a man slicking his cock with oil, I tried it myself. I poured coconut oil over my shaft, the slick warmth amplifying every stroke. My body trembled, every nerve alight with ecstasy, my cock pulsing as I pushed myself to the edge. But even in these moments of pleasure, a conflict gnawed at me. I was drowning in this world of lust, yet the thought of relationships—or worse, marriage—filled me with dread. To fuck a woman was one thing, but to be bound to her would chain my freedom. So I kept my desires confined to the screen, where there were no consequences, only endless nights of forbidden release.
My flat was my fortress, a place where I answered to no one. Days were spent in the office, nights in the glow of my phone, stroking myself to the rhythm of moans and flesh. One afternoon, a colleague, Ramesh, approached me with a request. “Akash, my cousin from the village is in town for work, but his lodging fell through. Can he crash at your place for a night?” I hesitated—my flat was small, my privacy sacred—but Ramesh was a friend. “Sure, one night’s fine,” I said. He grinned, relieved. “You’re a lifesaver! I’ll send him over this evening.”
At dusk, a knock rattled my door. I opened it to find a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a Tamil film’s villainous shadows. Mostafa, Ramesh’s distant cousin, was a towering figure, his skin a deep, inky black, his long hair falling to his shoulders, his face half-hidden by a scruffy beard. He was around forty, his eyes murky yet glinting with a predatory spark that sent a shiver down my spine. His smile was sly, as if he could read my every thought. Clad in a stained kurta and lungi, he carried a small bag, his muscular frame radiating a raw, animalistic energy. There was something unsettlingly magnetic about him, a dangerous allure that made my skin prickle.
Ramesh introduced us briefly. “This is Mostafa, my cousin. And this is Akash, my friend.” Mostafa’s grin widened, his voice a low rumble. “Hey, little brother, how’s it going?” I managed a nervous smile, caught off guard by his familiarity. Ramesh thanked me and left, promising Mostafa would join him in the morning. I led Mostafa inside, my small flat suddenly feeling smaller under his imposing presence.
Mostafa tossed his bag aside and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging in a tight vest and lungi. His dark, muscled body gleamed, his chest covered in a thick mat of hair that made him look like a beast carved from midnight. Yet his easy banter disarmed me. “Nice place you’ve got, little brother,” he said, sprawling on my sofa. “You live alone?” I nodded. “Yeah, just me.” His grin turned wicked. “Good. No one to disturb the fun, right?”
We chatted idly, but Mostafa’s conversation soon veered into dangerous territory. His eyes gleamed as he leaned closer. “Tell me, little brother, do you bring any girls here? You know, some hot piece to warm your bed?” My face flushed, words stumbling. “Uh, no, I… don’t do that.” He laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “Come on, don’t be shy! We’re men. At your age, a tight pussy feels like heaven, doesn’t it? Ever been to a brothel?” My cheeks burned hotter, and I stammered, “No, I don’t go to those places.” Mostafa roared with laughter. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Bet you jerk off to porn every night, though.” I looked away, shame and a strange thrill twisting inside me. His words were crude, but they stirred something primal, my cock twitching in my pants. “Back in my village,” he continued, “I fucked a widow a few times. Her ass was so round, it’d make your head spin. Got any girls like that here?” I mumbled, “No, I just… keep to myself.” His sly grin returned. “Alright, little brother. How about you show me the city? The night’s still young.”
I hesitated. It was nearly ten, and his intensity unnerved me. But his insistence won out. “Fine, let’s go for a walk,” I said, and we stepped into the neon-lit streets of Kolkata. The city pulsed with life—flickering signs, honking cars, and the hum of nightlife. Mostafa walked beside me, his long hair swaying, his grin a constant shadow. His presence made my skin tingle, a mix of unease and fascination. Suddenly, he stopped by a woman leaning against a wall. Her tight black top hugged her full breasts, her jeans clinging to her round ass, every curve screaming temptation. She smiled at us, and my body ignited, my cock stirring at the sight of her.
Mostafa approached her, his voice dripping with charm. “What’s a beauty like you doing out here alone?” She laughed, her eyes playful. “Just soaking in the city.” Mostafa glanced at me, winking. “Look at those tits, little brother. So fucking ripe. Imagine a night with her, huh?” My face burned, but I forced a laugh, too embarrassed to respond. The woman giggled at his boldness, her eyes daring him to continue. Mostafa leaned in, whispering something that made her blush and laugh harder. I couldn’t hear, but the heat in her gaze told me it was filthy. My cock throbbed, but shame kept me rooted a few steps away.
After a moment, Mostafa suggested we grab food. We stopped at a small kebab stall, the air thick with the scent of sizzling meat and spices. My stomach growled as we sat with plates of steaming kebabs. Mostafa’s crude talk resumed between bites. “These kebabs are hot, but nothing beats a woman’s body when she’s burning for you, right? Ever squeezed a pair of juicy tits?” I choked on my food, mumbling, “Stop it, man.” He laughed, undeterred. “In my village, I fingered a girl’s pussy once. Her juices soaked my hand. You telling me you’ve never done that here?” My cock stiffened, his words painting vivid images in my mind. I focused on my kebab, trying to ignore the heat pooling in my groin.
We walked on, and Mostafa struck up a conversation with another woman, her sheer saree revealing every curve of her body. He flirted shamelessly, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. She gasped, slapping him hard. “You filthy bastard!” she snapped, storming off. Mostafa laughed, rubbing his cheek. “City girls are so dramatic! In my village, my cock would’ve been in her pussy by now.” I stood frozen, torn between shock and a dark amusement, my body buzzing with arousal.
At a sweet shop, Mostafa’s charm targeted the woman behind the counter, her fair skin glowing under the lights, her kajal-lined eyes and pink lips a vision of allure. “Your smile’s sweeter than these rosogollas,” he teased. She laughed, playing along. “Less talk, how many do you want?” As we ate the syrupy sweets, Mostafa kept up his game, hinting at her “sweetness” beyond the counter. Her playful retorts only fueled my growing arousal, his magnetic vulgarity pulling me into his orbit.
By eleven, we returned to my flat, my mind a storm of his words and the images of the women we’d seen. We settled in—Mostafa on the sofa, me in my bedroom—but sleep wouldn’t come. My cock throbbed, my mind replaying the curve of that woman’s ass, Mostafa’s filthy stories, and the electric pulse of the city’s nightlife. I closed my eyes, but the heat in my body refused to fade, my hand itching to relieve the ache.
In the dead of night, I jolted awake, my breath catching. A hand was on my cock, stroking it softly, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me.

[Abirkkz]

Interesting plot

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Part 4: A Night of Forbidden Flames

The night had swallowed the city whole, its inky darkness seeping into my small Kolkata flat, a cocoon of solitude now heavy with unspoken tension. I lay sprawled across my narrow bed, the thin mattress creaking beneath me, my body drained from our earlier wanderings through the city’s neon-lit chaos. Mostafa, Ramesh’s enigmatic cousin, was camped out on a worn mat in the cramped dining hall, his presence a lingering disturbance in my sanctuary. We’d stumbled back around eleven, the city’s pulse still throbbing in my veins, its scents of street food and exhaust clinging to my skin. Exhaustion had pulled my eyelids shut, and I’d slipped into a restless slumber, assuming Mostafa had done the same after washing off the night’s grit. But in the witching hours—perhaps two or three in the morning—a jolt tore me from sleep, my body electrified by a sensation both alien and intoxicating.

Without opening my eyes, I felt it: a hand, warm and deliberate, grazing my cock through the thin fabric of my lungi. The touch was gentle yet probing, fingers tracing the outline of my shaft, teasing it to life. My body shuddered, a primal heat surging through me, but I froze, feigning sleep, my heart hammering in my chest. My mind spiraled into a storm of questions. Who was this? The flat was empty save for me and Mostafa, a man whose dark charisma had already unsettled me. Was it him? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of dread and a forbidden curiosity I couldn’t name.

I cracked my eyes open, just a sliver, and there he was—Mostafa, crouched beside my bed like a predator in the shadows. His dark face, framed by wild, shoulder-length hair, bore that sly, wolfish grin, his eyes glinting with a dangerous hunger that made my skin prickle. His hand moved with purpose, slipping beneath my lungi, fingers brushing the sensitive head of my cock. My shaft twitched, hardening under his touch, betraying me as a wave of shame crashed against a rising tide of arousal. I stayed still, my breath shallow, pretending to sleep as my body burned. What was he doing? Why was I letting this happen? The questions drowned in the heat pooling in my groin.

Emboldened by my silence, Mostafa tugged my lungi aside, exposing my cock to the cool night air. His fingers danced over the swollen head, circling it with a teasing pressure that sent sparks through my nerves. My cock stiffened fully, throbbing under his touch, a traitor to my racing mind. Then, in a move that stole my breath, he lowered his head, his warm, wet lips closing around my shaft. His tongue swirled, lapping at the sensitive tip, then sliding down the length, coating it in slick heat. My body trembled, every nerve alight as he sucked with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his mouth a furnace of pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, a lightning bolt of ecstasy that drowned out my shame. My hips twitched involuntarily, my cock pulsing in his mouth. I couldn’t hold back—my cum erupted, a hot, shuddering release that flooded his mouth, spilling over his lips. I bolted upright, my face burning with a cocktail of rage, shame, and a dark, undeniable thrill. “What the fuck are you doing?” I stammered, my voice trembling.

Mostafa leaned back, his grin wider, my cum glistening on his teeth, a perverse trophy of his conquest. “Awake now, little brother?” he said, his voice a low, throaty rumble. “Come on, grab my cock. Feel it.” My heart pounded, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. “What is this? Why?” I managed, my voice barely a whisper. He laughed, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver through me. “City life’s for fun, Akash. Don’t be shy. Take it.” His eyes locked onto mine, daring me to cross a line I’d never imagined. My hand trembled, caught between fear and a strange, magnetic pull. Hesitant, I reached for his lungi, my fingers brushing the coarse fabric before finding his cock. It was massive, a thick, black rod of flesh, its swollen head glistening with precum, pulsing under my touch. The sheer size of it—long, veined, and heavy—made my hand shake. Dense, wiry hair surrounded it, and a musky, animalistic scent hit me, raw and overwhelming, stirring a mix of revulsion and fascination. My cock twitched again, hardening despite myself.

I tried to pull back, but Mostafa grabbed my hand, guiding it along his shaft. “Don’t be a coward. Stroke it,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. My fingers moved, trembling, sliding up and down his iron-hard cock, feeling it throb under my touch. The sensation was electric, a forbidden heat igniting in my core. His groan filled the room, low and primal, as he leaned closer, his breath hot against my neck. Suddenly, he grabbed my cock, still slick from his mouth, and pressed it against his own. The friction of our cocks grinding together sent a jolt through me, a fire that consumed every rational thought. His thick shaft rubbed against mine, the heat and pressure driving me wild. He nudged my balls with a playful tap, making me gasp. “Feels good, doesn’t it, little brother?” he teased, his grin wicked. Disgust clawed at my mind, but my body surrendered, lost in the primal rhythm of his touch.

Without warning, Mostafa pulled me close, his lips crashing against mine in a rough, possessive kiss. His beard scbangd my face, coarse and unyielding, his breath hot and sour with the faint tang of my cum. I tried to pull away, my hands pushing against his broad chest, but his strong fingers gripped my head, holding me in place. His tongue invaded my mouth, thick and insistent, tangling with mine in a dance that made my body quake. My mind screamed in protest, but my cock throbbed, betraying me as pleasure drowned out shame. His hands slid down my body, yanking my lungi off completely, exposing my naked ass. His fingers kneaded my soft cheeks, squeezing with a possessive hunger that made my breath hitch. “Fuck, this ass is making my cock ache,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. He tore off my vest, leaving me bare, and his fingers found my nipples, pinching them until they stiffened. Then his mouth descended, sucking one nipple hard, his tongue flicking over it, sending shocks of pleasure through me. My body arched, a moan escaping despite myself, as disgust and ecstasy waged war within.

He flipped me onto my stomach, my face pressed into the mattress, the sheets rough against my cheek. His hands spread my ass cheeks, exposing my tight hole to the cool air. Then I felt it—his hot, wet tongue circling my hole, probing with a slow, deliberate rhythm. My body shuddered, the sensation overwhelming, a mix of violation and raw pleasure. His tongue pushed deeper, slick and insistent, making my cock throb against the sheets. “Your ass is like fucking butter,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Gonna feel so good when I fuck it.” My mind reeled, shame screaming at me to stop this, but my body was no longer mine. My cock hardened again, pulsing with need as his tongue worked my hole, softening it, preparing it.

He sat up, his grin wicked in the dim light. “Your turn, little brother. Suck my cock.” My heart stopped, my head spinning. “I can’t,” I protested, my voice weak. But his eyes held a stubborn glint, a predator’s certainty. He grabbed my head, pulling it toward his groin. His massive cock loomed before me, its swollen head glistening, the thick hair around it reeking of musk and sweat. The scent hit me like a wave, revolting yet strangely intoxicating, stirring a dark hunger I didn’t understand. “Just lick it,” he urged, his grip unyielding. My trembling lips brushed his cockhead, the salty, bitter taste flooding my senses. My stomach churned, but his hand tightened, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth. It filled me, thick and heavy, nearly gagging me as he rocked his hips, fucking my mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. Tears pricked my eyes, my throat burning, but my cock pulsed, hard and aching. “That’s it, suck it like a pro,” he groaned, his voice a low growl. My body burned with shame, but the heat of his cock in my mouth, the rhythm of his thrusts, pulled me into a haze of twisted pleasure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled out, his cock glistening with my saliva, a string of it connecting my lips to his shaft. He flipped me onto my stomach again, spreading my ass cheeks wide. His cockhead pressed against my hole, hot and unyielding, sending a jolt of fear through me. “No, please, I don’t want this!” I begged, my voice cracking. He ignored me, his grip tightening on my hips. “Relax, it’ll hurt a bit, then you’ll be in fucking paradise,” he said, his voice thick with lust. With a brutal thrust, he pushed his thick cock inside me. Pain seared through me, a white-hot burn as if my body were being torn apart. I screamed, “Stop, it hurts!” but he didn’t. His cock filled me, stretching my tight hole to its limit, the burn excruciating. He began to thrust, slow at first, then faster, each movement igniting a strange, growing pleasure beneath the pain. My cock hardened against the sheets, my body betraying me as the rhythm took over. “Your ass is fucking perfect,” he growled, slapping my cheeks hard, the sting mingling with the pleasure. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back onto his cock, each thrust deeper, harder. After ten minutes of relentless pounding, he gave a final, brutal thrust, his hot cum flooding my insides, a searing warmth that pushed me over the edge. My own cum spilled onto the sheets, my body shaking with the intensity of it. He pulled out, panting, his grin triumphant. “You’re a damn good fuck, little brother.”

Exhausted, I collapsed, my ass throbbing, the ghost of his thick cock still lingering inside me. My mind was a storm of shame, disgust, and a dark, undeniable pleasure that refused to fade. Mostafa lay beside me, his dark, sweat-slicked body gleaming in the dim light, his chest heaving, his grin that of a hunter who’d claimed his prize. I stayed silent, drained of words, my body still humming with the aftershocks of our encounter. But Mostafa wasn’t done. Minutes later, he turned to me, his eyes gleaming with unquenched hunger. “One round’s not enough, is it?” he said, his hand stroking my ass, fingers tracing the tender skin. “I’m too sore,” I protested, my voice weak, but he ignored me, his sweat-slicked body pressing against mine, his hardening cock grazing my stomach. The contact reignited the fire in my veins, my cock twitching despite the ache in my body. He kissed me again, his beard scbanging my face, his tongue claiming my mouth with a possessive hunger. His fingers teased my nipples, pinching them until they stiffened, then his mouth descended, sucking them hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive buds. “Your body’s like a woman’s,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “These tits could drip honey.” My body trembled, lost to his touch, my cock hardening fully as shame and pleasure collided.

He flipped me onto my stomach once more, spreading my ass cheeks with a rough grip. “Still so fucking hot,” he said, his cock pressing against my sore, cum-slicked hole. “No, it hurts!” I pleaded, my voice desperate, but he laughed, a low, wicked sound. “Pain’s part of the pleasure, little brother.” His thick cock slid in, the burn intense but softened by the slickness of his earlier cum. My body adjusted, the pain giving way to a twisted ecstasy as he fucked me, his thrusts deep and relentless. His hands gripped my ass, slapping it hard, the sting amplifying the pleasure. I clutched the sheets, my cock throbbing as I stroked myself, lost in the rhythm of his pounding. Each thrust shook my core, his cock stretching me, filling me with a heat I couldn’t resist. After fifteen minutes of brutal fucking, he gave a final, savage thrust, his hot cum flooding me again, the sensation pushing me over the edge. My cum soaked the sheets, my body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. “Your ass is a fucking dream,” he panted, collapsing beside me, his dark body slick with sweat, his long hair splayed across the pillow.

My ass throbbed, the pain and pleasure intertwined, my mind a haze of conflicting emotions—shame, disgust, and a dark, intoxicating satisfaction. The sheets were stained with our cum, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Mostafa’s grin lingered, his eyes still hungry, but I was spent, my body and mind teetering on the edge of collapse. I lay there, silent, as the night stretched on, a prisoner of my own desires, caught in a web of lust and self-loathing.

Morning came, heavy and surreal. My ass throbbed, the sheets stained with our cum. Mostafa was gone, his bag and mat vanished. Relief mixed with an odd emptiness. In the bathroom, hot water washed over me, but the memories lingered—his thick cock, his relentless thrusts, his sly grin. I scolded myself, “Get a grip, Akash. He’s gone. Move on.” But my body still hummed with the night’s intensity.

[Abirkkz]

Part 5: The Forbidden World of the Dark Alley ([b]Crossover)[/b] 

As dusk bled into night, the air in my tiny Kolkata flat grew thick with anticipation. A sharp knock shattered the silence. I opened the door, my heart lurching at the sight of Mostafa, his towering frame filling the doorway. His inky black skin glistened under the dim bulb, his long hair swaying like a dark curtain, his kurta worn and clinging to his muscled chest. That sly, predatory grin curled his lips, his murky eyes glinting with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine. “You?” I stammered, my voice betraying a mix of shock and reluctant arousal. “I thought you’d left!” He chuckled, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through the room. “Leave so soon, little brother? The city’s too sweet to abandon. I’ve got more fun planned for us tonight.” My gut twisted—fear, shame, and a dark, undeniable excitement coiling together. I nodded mutely, my throat tight, as he strode in, tossing his bag onto the floor with a careless thud.

“Last night was just the start,” he said, his voice dripping with promise. “Let’s hit the streets again. Show me more of this city’s secrets.” I hesitated, my body still aching from the previous night’s debauchery, but his magnetic pull was inescapable. By eight, we were weaving through Kolkata’s neon-lit chaos, the city’s pulse thrumming in my veins. Walking beside Mostafa, his long strides and that wicked glint in his eyes made my skin prickle with unease and anticipation. Every glance from him felt like a challenge, as if he were plotting something darker, something that would push me further into his world of raw, unbridled lust.

The Forbidden Alley

 He led me down a narrow, shadowed alley, where the air grew heavy with the scent of decay and desire. Crumbling buildings loomed on either side, their faded facades barely lit by flickering streetlights. My pulse quickened. “Why here?” I asked, my voice trembling. Mostafa’s grin widened, his teeth flashing in the gloom. “This is where the city hides its real pleasures, little brother. Wait and see.” My stomach churned, but I followed, drawn by his dangerous charisma. At the alley’s end stood a woman, her petite frame cloaked in shadow. Mostafa leaned in, whispering to her, his voice low and conspiratorial. Her eyes flicked to me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Come on,” Mostafa said, turning to me. “We’re taking her to your place. The three of us are gonna fuck like animals tonight.” My heart pounded, my cock twitching despite the shame flooding my mind. I trailed behind as he led her back to my flat, her hips swaying with a promise that set my blood on fire.
Inside, under the harsh glow of my bulb, I studied her. Shiuli, she called herself, her dusky skin shimmering like polished bronze. Barely twenty-six, her petite body was a masterpiece of curves—her tight red kurti clung to her 34-size breasts, round and impossibly firm, their outline straining against the fabric. Her black leggings hugged her hips, accentuating an ass so lush and round it seemed to pulse with every step, begging to be touched. Her shoulder-length hair was tousled, framing a face that radiated raw sensuality—full lips lightly glossed, kajal-lined eyes sparkling with mischief, and a sweet, heady perfume that hit my nose like a drug, making my cock throb in my lungi. She caught my gaze and smirked, her voice a sultry purr. “You’re a shy one, aren’t you? I’m Shiuli. No need to be nervous, baby.” My face burned, but my body betrayed me, my cock hardening painfully as I looked away.

Mostafa locked the door with a deliberate click, his grin predatory. “Look at this fucking goddess, little brother. That ass, those tits—city girls like her are built for sin.” Shiuli laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a jolt through me. She stepped closer, her hand grazing my thigh, her touch igniting a fire in my groin. “Don’t be shy,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. Mostafa sprawled on the sofa, his dark frame dominating the room. “We’re gonna tear her apart tonight,” he said, his voice thick with lust. My cock pulsed, my mind screaming with shame but drowning in desire as Shiuli’s fingers traced higher, brushing the bulge in my lungi.
We moved to the bedroom, the air thick with the promise of debauchery. Shiuli stood before me, her eyes locked on mine as she peeled off her kurti, revealing a black bra that barely contained her full, heavy breasts. They jiggled as she moved, her dark nipples faintly visible through the lace, begging to be sucked. She slid her leggings down, her black panties clinging to her pussy, the fabric outlining her swollen lips, already damp with arousal. Her ass was a vision—round, soft, like molten butter, each cheek quivering with every step. My cock strained against my lungi, aching for release. She tugged it off, my hard shaft springing free, the tip glistening with precum. “Fuck, you’re ready,” she purred, her fingers wrapping around my cock, stroking it with a slow, teasing rhythm that made my knees buckle.
I pushed her onto the bed, my hands trembling as I yanked off her panties. Her dusky pussy was a revelation—framed by a thick bush of dark hair, her lips glistening, slick with desire. I pressed my cock against her entrance, the heat of her pussy radiating against my tip. “Fuck me, baby,” she moaned, spreading her legs wide, her thighs trembling with anticipation. I thrust inside, her tight, wet pussy gripping me like a vice, her walls pulsing around my shaft. Each thrust sent her breasts bouncing, their heavy weight swaying in rhythm with my hips. Her moans filled the room, raw and desperate—“Harder, fuck my pussy raw!”—driving me into a frenzy. I pounded her, my balls slapping against her ass, her slick juices coating my cock as her pussy clenched tighter, milking me.

Mostafa stood beside us, his massive cock in hand, stroking its thick, black length as he watched. His eyes burned with lust as he stepped closer, shoving his cock toward Shiuli’s mouth. “Suck it, you filthy slut,” he growled. Shiuli opened her lips, her tongue swirling around his swollen cockhead, her mouth stretching to take his girth. She sucked him greedily, her moans muffled as his cock slid in and out, her saliva dripping down his shaft. The sight of her lips wrapped around his massive cock, her pussy clenching around mine, pushed me over the edge. My cum erupted, flooding her pussy, hot and thick, spilling out as her walls pulsed around me. I collapsed onto her, panting, her breasts pressed against my chest, her nipples hard against my skin.
Mostafa pulled out of her mouth, his cock glistening with her spit. “My turn,” he growled, flipping her onto her stomach. Her ass arched high, still trembling from my cum dripping from her pussy. He slammed his thick cock into her, her pussy stretching to take him, her moans turning to screams. “Your cock’s fucking splitting me!” she cried, her ass shaking with each brutal thrust. I knelt beside her, grabbing her heavy breasts, my fingers sinking into their soft flesh. I sucked her nipples, hard and pebbled, my tongue swirling as she moaned louder, her body writhing between us. I kissed her, our tongues tangling, her lips sweet and slick, her breath hot with lust.
Mostafa fucked her relentlessly, his hands slapping her ass, leaving red marks on her dusky skin. “Lick her pussy,” he ordered, pulling out, his cock slick with her juices and my cum. Shiuli grabbed my head, guiding it to her cum-soaked pussy. The scent hit me—salty, musky, intoxicating. I buried my face in her, my tongue lapping at her swollen clit, tasting the mix of our cum, her juices bitter-sweet on my lips. She moaned, her hips grinding against my face, “Eat my pussy, suck it dry!” Mostafa shoved his cock back into her mouth, fucking it with slow, deliberate thrusts, her throat bulging as she took him deep. Her moans vibrated against his shaft, her body trembling as we ravaged her—me devouring her pussy, him fucking her mouth.
The room was a symphony of lust—Shiuli’s muffled moans, the wet slap of Mostafa’s cock in her mouth, the squelch of my tongue in her dripping pussy. Her body was our playground, her dusky skin glistening with sweat, her breasts bouncing, her ass quivering. “You’re fucking killing me!” she gasped, her pussy gushing against my tongue, her juices flooding my mouth.
Mostafa pulled back, his cock throbbing. “Let’s fuck her proper,” he said, his voice thick with hunger. “Missionary, you take her pussy, I’ll take her mouth.” I spread Shiuli’s legs, her pussy still dripping with our cum, her lips swollen and inviting. I slid inside, her heat enveloping me, her walls clenching as I thrust deep. Her breasts jiggled with each pump, her moans—“Fuck me deeper, tear my pussy apart!”—spurring me on. My balls slapped against her ass, the wet sound of her pussy filling the room. Mostafa knelt by her head, his thick cock sliding into her mouth, her lips stretching around him as she sucked, her tongue swirling over his shaft. “Your mouth’s a fucking pussy,” he groaned, his hips rocking.
We switched—Shiuli went doggy-style, her ass high, her pussy glistening. Mostafa slammed into her, his cock stretching her wide, her screams echoing—“Your cock’s ripping my pussy!” I sucked her breasts, my teeth grazing her nipples, then kissed her, her tongue dancing with mine, her moans vibrating against my lips. Her body shook between us, her pussy and mouth claimed by our relentless hunger.

Shiuli climbed onto Mostafa, straddling him, her pussy swallowing his cock as she rode him. Her breasts bounced wildly, her moans shaking the room. I stroked her ass, its soft curves trembling under my hands, but she stopped me. “Just my pussy,” she panted. I lay beside Mostafa, and she rode me next, her pussy gripping my cock, her breasts swaying as she bounced. I came again, my cum flooding her, mixing with Mostafa’s.
He took her again, his cock pounding her pussy as she screamed, her body quaking. “Your pussy’s fucking heaven,” he growled, spilling inside her. Her pussy dripped with our cum, pooling on the sheets.
Mostafa wasn’t done. “Let’s double-team her,” he said, lying back. Shiuli straddled him, his thick cock pressing against her tight asshole. She screamed as he pushed in, her ass stretching around his girth. “Your cock’s tearing my ass apart!” she cried, her body trembling. I spread her legs, her pussy dripping, and slid inside, her walls clenching me. We fucked her in unison, my cock in her pussy, Mostafa’s in her ass, her body shaking between us. “You’re fucking killing me!” she screamed, her moans a raw, primal symphony. I pulled out, shoving my cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling as she sucked me. Mostafa pounded her ass, his hands slapping her cheeks. We came, my cum flooding her mouth, his filling her ass, her body quaking with pleasure.
Shiuli collapsed, her body slick with sweat, our cum dripping from her pussy, ass, and mouth. “One more,” she panted, her eyes gleaming with insatiable lust. Mostafa stood, lifting her leg, and fucked her pussy standing, her moans echoing. I took her ass from behind, her tight hole gripping me as I thrust. We switched, my cock in her mouth, Mostafa’s in her pussy, until we came again, her body trembling, soaked in our cum.
Exhausted, Shiuli sat up, her dusky skin glistening, her hair a wild mess, her smile pure sin. “You’ve fucking ruined me,” she purred, grabbing her bra and panties. Mostafa tossed her crumpled notes, tucking them into her bra. “Your pussy and ass are worth more than this,” he said. She dressed, her curves still tantalizing in her tight kurti and leggings, and left with a sultry, “See you again, boys.”
Alone, the air was thick with the stench of sex and sweat. Mostafa lay beside me, his dark body gleaming, his grin triumphant. “How was her pussy and ass?” he asked, his hand grazing my still-hard cock. “Not done yet, huh?” He kissed me, his beard scratching, his tongue claiming my mouth. Our naked bodies pressed together, our cocks rubbing, reigniting the fire in my veins. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he whispered. “Live, little brother. Fuck every chance you get.” His words seared into me as we drifted to sleep, our cocks still pressed together, my mind a storm of lust and doubt.
In my dreams, Shiuli’s dusky body merged with memories of my village—my parents’ hard lives, my childhood, Rima’s innocent smile. The city’s raw, lustful pull clashed with the simplicity of my past, leaving me drowning in desire and uncertainty.

[Abirkkz]

Part 6

I woke around 7:30 in the morning, my body heavy, my asshole throbbing with a dull ache from the night before, my mind a whirlwind of the previous night’s depravity. Shiuli’s dusky body, her pussy and ass stretched by our relentless thrusts, her moans echoing like a siren’s call, Mostafa’s thick, black cock—everything felt like a feverish, obscene dream. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. Beside me, Mostafa lay sprawled, his dark skin still glistening with sweat, his long hair fanned across the pillow. A faint, satisfied smirk lingered on his face, as if the night’s savage lust was just another day for him. Looking at him, a storm of emotions churned inside me—shame, disgust, and a twisted gratitude. This man had dragged me into a hidden world of the city, one I’d never imagined, one that both terrified and electrified me.

Mostafa stirred, his murky eyes snapping open, that familiar predatory glint flashing in them. He sat up, his muscled frame dominating the small room. “Awake, huh? You were a fucking beast last night, little brother,” he said, his voice low and teasing. I dropped my gaze, shame burning my cheeks, unable to respond. He laughed, a deep, guttural sound. “Why so shy? This is life, man. You’re in the city now—fuck like this or what’s the point?” I stayed silent, my mind torn between memories of my village—my parents’ struggles, Rima’s innocent smile—and the raw, primal pull of this new world. Mostafa seemed to read my thoughts. “Listen,” he said, leaning closer, “you’re in the city. Grab every chance to fuck, every tight pussy or ass you can get. Back in the village, you won’t find this kind of fun.” His eyes gleamed with that dangerous spark, and he slid closer, his naked body brushing against mine. The heat of his skin sent a jolt through me. Suddenly, his rough hand gripped my cock, squeezing it firmly. My body shuddered, a spark of electricity shooting through me. “What the fuck are you doing?” I stammered, my voice trembling.
He grinned, his teeth flashing. “Morning’s gotta start with some dirty fun, right? Just shut up and enjoy it.” Before I could protest, he pulled me down onto the bed, his dark hands roaming my body. His fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking it with slow, deliberate motions. My shaft hardened under his touch, betraying my shame. He pressed his thick, black cock against mine, the hot, rigid length grinding against me. The sensation was electric, my body trembling as our cocks rubbed together, the friction igniting a primal fire in my veins. “This isn’t right,” I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction. Mostafa laughed. “Right? Wrong? In the city, it’s all about pleasure, little brother. Just feel it.” He ground his cock harder against mine, the slick heat of our shafts sliding together, my body quaking with forbidden arousal.
Then he climbed on top of me, his weight pinning me down. His lips crashed against mine, his coarse beard scbanging my face, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, tangling with mine in a hungry dance. Disgust warred with desire, but my body surrendered, my cock pulsing against his. He moved lower, his hot tongue flicking over my nipples, sucking them hard, making me gasp. “Fuck,” I moaned, my voice breaking. His mouth descended to my cock, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head, teasing the tip until my body arched off the bed. I couldn’t hold back—my cum erupted, flooding his mouth, hot and thick. Mostafa grinned, my cum glistening on his lips. “Sweet fucking load,” he said, leaning in to kiss me again, the salty taste of my own cum coating my tongue as his lips claimed mine.

He flipped me onto my stomach, my heart racing. “No more, my ass hurts,” I pleaded, the ache from last night still raw. He chuckled darkly. “Just a little fun, little brother.” His thick cock grazed my asshole, the hot, hard tip teasing my sore entrance. My body trembled, caught between pain and a twisted craving. He pressed forward, his massive cock sliding into my ass, stretching me painfully. I screamed, “Fuck, stop!” but he didn’t. He thrust slowly, his cock filling me, the burn melding into a strange, intoxicating pleasure. Each stroke sent waves of agony and ecstasy through me, my body shaking as his thick shaft claimed my ass. After a few minutes, he groaned, his hot cum flooding my insides, the warmth spreading through me. I collapsed, exhausted, my ass throbbing, my mind a haze of conflicting sensations.
Mostafa wasn’t done. He grabbed my cock again, his dark fingers stroking the sensitive head. “What the fuck, man? It’s morning!” I protested, but he just grinned. “Morning’s for hard, dirty fucking, little brother. I’m gonna show you something new.” He pulled a chair into the center of the room and sat, spreading his legs, his knees drawn toward his chest. His massive, black cock stood erect, the swollen head glistening, surrounded by a thick jungle of hair. The sight made my cock twitch, despite my shame. “Come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Turn around and sit on my cock. You’re gonna ride me.”
I trembled, my body aching but burning with desire. I turned, my back to him, and positioned my sore asshole over his cock. The hot, hard tip pressed against my entrance, sending a shiver through me. I lowered myself slowly, his thick cock stretching my ass, the pain sharp but laced with pleasure. I groaned, “Fuck, it hurts!” but Mostafa just laughed. “Take it slow, you control it.” I began to move, my hips rising and falling, his cock sliding deep into my ass, my tight walls gripping him. Each thrust sent his shaft deeper, the pain melting into a raw, primal ecstasy. My cock bounced, hard and throbbing, and I wrapped my hand around it, stroking furiously. Mostafa groaned, “Fuck yeah, ride it like that! You’re a fucking pro!” I thrust harder, his cock filling me completely, my body trembling with every movement.
He grabbed my hips, guiding me, making me bounce faster. His cock hit deep inside, my ass clenching around him. “Fuck, I can’t take it!” I gasped, but he didn’t stop. He pulled me close, kissing me hard, his beard scbanging my face, his tongue invading my mouth. His fingers pinched my nipples, his hot tongue flicking over them, sending sparks through my body. My cum erupted again, splattering the bed, as Mostafa’s hot load filled my ass, the warmth spreading through me. We collapsed onto the bed, panting, our bodies slick with sweat.
Mostafa wasn’t finished. “Now I’m gonna eat your ass,” he growled, lying back. I straddled his face, my sore, cum-soaked asshole hovering over his mouth. His rough hands grabbed my nipples, squeezing them as his hot, wet tongue probed my hole. The sensation was overwhelming, his tongue swirling inside my ass, licking his own cum from my depths. I moaned, “Fuck, what are you doing?” my body shaking. His tongue fucked my ass, his hands working my nipples, driving me wild. My cock hardened again, pulsing with need. He grabbed it, stroking it hard as his tongue plunged deeper. “Fuck, stop, I can’t take it!” I begged, but he didn’t. My cum spilled again, soaking the sheets, as he pulled back, grinning. “Your ass tastes like fucking honey.”

He wasn’t done. “One more,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Stand over my face.” I stood, my legs trembling, my asshole positioned above his mouth. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down until his tongue met my hole again. The hot, slick sensation sent me reeling, his tongue probing deep, fucking my ass as I shook. His hand stroked my cock, the rhythm relentless. “Fuck, stop!” I screamed, but my body betrayed me, my cum spilling onto the bed as his tongue worked my ass. “Your ass is a fucking delicacy,” he growled, licking his lips.
We collapsed, exhausted, our bodies tangled in the sheets. Mostafa panted, “Fucking hell of a morning, right? Now let’s get ready. I’ve gotta head back to the village.” We cleaned up, the hot water of the shower soothing my aching ass but doing little to calm the storm in my mind. Mostafa dressed in his worn kurta and lungi, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s take a walk,” he said, and we stepped out into the chaotic morning streets of city .
The city buzzed with life—crowded streets, honking cars, the hum of vendors. We stopped at a small hotel for breakfast—paratha, eggs, and tea. Mostafa ate with relish, grinning at me. “You’re a good kid, Akash. Live it up in the city, fuck everything you can. But don’t forget the village.” His words sank into me, heavy with truth and temptation. After breakfast, we walked to the bus stand. His departure loomed. At the stand, he turned to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “I’m off, little brother. Stay good. And fuck like your life depends on it.” He clapped my shoulder, flashed that sly grin, and boarded the bus. I watched his dark figure disappear through the window, a strange emptiness settling in my chest. He’d stormed into my life, turned two nights into a whirlwind of lust, and left.


The day dragged on at the office, my mind replaying Mostafa’s words, his touch, Shiuli’s body. By evening, as I left work, the city’s neon glow beckoned, stirring that restless fire in my veins. I knew where I was going. The dark alley called to me, its shadows promising more forbidden pleasures.


As dusk bled into the sultry  evening, I found myself drawn back to that dark, seedy alley, its shadows whispering promises of forbidden ecstasy. The city’s streets shimmered under a haze of neon lights and twilight, the air thick with the hum of crowds, the flicker of shop signs, and the raw pulse of urban life. The alley was a world apart—filthy, reeking of open drains, its cracked pavement crowded with beggars and street girls whose hungry eyes gleamed in the dim glow. My body thrummed with a restless fire, my cock already twitching in my lungi as I scanned the faces for Shiuli, her dusky curves and wicked moans still haunting my mind. But she was nowhere to be found. My gaze snagged on other women, their torn saris clinging to sweat-slicked bodies, their seductive smiles promising dark delights. My shaft stirred, aching with need, as their eyes locked onto me, each one a siren luring me deeper into the city’s underbelly.

A woman stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, her dusky skin glowing under the faint streetlight. Her sari, threadbare and slightly askew, parted to reveal the deep, tantalizing cleavage of her full breasts, the curves barely contained by the fabric. Her voice was a low, sultry purr, dripping with promise. “Hey, want to have some fun? I’ll make you feel pleasures you’ve never dreamed of.” My cock leapt, straining against the thin fabric of my lungi, a primal heat surging through my veins. I swallowed hard, my voice rough. “Where’s Shiuli?” Her lips curled into a knowing smile, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Shiuli’s not here, babu. But I’m Rita, and I’ll give you more than she ever could—pleasures to burn your soul.” Her words ignited me, her slim waist and voluptuous hips swaying as she stepped closer, her scent—a mix of cheap perfume and raw sensuality—hitting me like a drug. My cock throbbed, my mind drowning in lust. “Alright, Rita,” I growled, my voice thick with desire. “Show me what you can do.”

She grabbed my hand, her fingers warm and teasing, and led me to a cramped, dingy room tucked behind the alley. The space was a shrine to decay—walls stained with damp, their peeling paint glistening in the dim light of a single, flickering bulb. A worn mattress lay on the floor, its faded fabric reeking of past sins. The air was heavy, thick with the musk of sweat and sex. Rita shut the door with a soft click, her eyes locking onto mine, that wicked glint promising untold depravity. “Babu,” she purred, her voice a velvet caress, “you’re about to taste a pleasure you’ll never forget.” My cock pulsed, hard and aching, as I stepped toward her. She moved with a predator’s grace, her fingers deftly untying the knot of my lungi. It fell away, my eight-inch cock springing free, thick and rigid, its red tip glistening with precum. Rita knelt before me, her eyes widening, her breath catching. “Fuck, babu, what a cock,” she murmured, her voice dripping with hunger. “This beast is gonna fill my mouth whole.”
Her tongue darted out, a slick, hot tease that flicked across the sensitive head of my cock. The sensation was electric, a jolt of raw pleasure shooting through my body as her tongue swirled over the tip, tracing the pulsing veins. My knees trembled, my breath hitching. “Suck it hard, you filthy slut,” I growled, my voice rough with need. “My cock was made for your fucking mouth.” She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Don’t worry, babu. I’m gonna drain every drop from this monster.” Her lips parted, enveloping my cock in a warm, wet embrace, her mouth tight and greedy as she took me deep. Her tongue danced around the head, teasing the slit, while her teeth grazed lightly, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through me. Her hand gripped the base, fingers curling around my shaft, her thumb brushing my heavy balls, coaxing a low moan from my throat. I grabbed her head, my fingers tangling in her hair, and thrust into her mouth, my cock sliding deep into her throat. Her muffled moans—“Mmm, mmm”—vibrated against my shaft, driving me wild. “Suck it, you whore,” I groaned, my hips rocking. “Drink my fucking cum.” Her lips tightened, her tongue swirling faster, her saliva coating my cock, making it glisten under the dim light. She sucked harder, her mouth a relentless vacuum, her throat constricting around my shaft as I fucked her face. The pressure built, my balls tightening, but I pulled back, my cock pulsing with need. “Rita,” I growled, “I’m gonna fuck your ass now.”

She rose, her movements slow and deliberate, her sari slipping down to reveal her round, dusky ass—soft yet firm, each cheek a perfect curve that begged to be claimed. She grabbed a small bottle of lube from the mattress, her fingers slick as she coated her asshole, sliding them in and out with a teasing rhythm that made my cock throb harder. “Babu,” she purred, her voice thick with lust, “shove that fat cock in my ass. It’s starving for you.” I spread her cheeks, her tight, black hole glistening with lube, pulsing slightly as if inviting me in. “I’m gonna rip your ass apart,” I growled, my voice raw with hunger. She laughed, a sultry sound that fueled my desire. “Do it, babu. My ass is fucking ravenous for your cock.”
I pressed my cock against her hole, the tight ring resisting, clenching against my tip. I slicked my shaft with lube, the cool gel mixing with the heat of my arousal, and pushed hard. My cock breached her, sliding into her impossibly tight ass, the sensation like a vice gripping my shaft. She gasped, her body tensing, her voice a sharp cry. “Fuck, babu, slow! Your cock’s fucking huge!” I ignored her plea, my hands gripping her hips as I thrust slowly, savoring the way her ass stretched around me, the friction sending waves of pleasure through my body. “Your ass is fucking perfect,” I groaned, slapping her cheek hard, the sharp crack echoing in the room as a red mark bloomed on her dusky skin. She moaned, her body trembling, her voice a desperate plea. “Fuck me harder, babu. My ass belongs to you.” I pounded her, my cock plunging deep, her tight hole gripping me with every thrust. My balls slapped against her ass, the wet sound mingling with her moans, a symphony of raw lust. I reached around, grabbing her full breasts through her sari, my fingers sinking into their soft weight, pinching her hard nipples until she cried out, her body shaking under my touch.

I slid my hand lower, seeking her pussy, but she grabbed my wrist, pushing it away. Surprised, I growled, “What’s wrong, Rita? I can’t touch your pussy?” Her lips curled into a wicked smirk, her eyes glinting with a secret. “Babu, my pussy’s a mystery. Touch it, and you’ll lose your fucking mind.” Her words sent a fresh surge of arousal through me, my cock throbbing inside her ass. I fucked her harder, my shaft driving deep, her tight hole clenching around me as the pressure built. “I’m gonna cum in your ass,” I growled, my voice thick with need. She trembled, her moans shaking the room. “Do it, babu. Fill my ass with your hot cum.” I thrust faster, my cock slamming into her depths, my balls tightening as my cum erupted, flooding her tight hole with thick, hot spurts. The sensation was overwhelming, my body shuddering as pleasure ripped through me. Rita collapsed onto the mattress, her body quaking, her ass dripping with my cum.
Panting, I wasn’t done. “Rita, I want to eat your pussy,” I said, my cock still hard, pulsing with need. She laughed, her eyes gleaming with that same mysterious glint. “Babu, my pussy’s a secret. Once you start, you’ll be addicted, unable to stop.” Her words only fueled my hunger. “I don’t care,” I growled. “I’ll suck your pussy dry, drink every fucking drop.” She smirked, her fingers slowly peeling off her sari and panties, revealing her body inch by inch.

 I froze, my breath catching as I saw it—where her pussy should’ve been was a big, black cock, soft and nestled in a thick patch of hair, its musky scent hitting me like a wave. Shock tore through me. “What the fuck, Rita? You’re a hijra?” I shouted, my voice breaking. But she didn’t give me a chance to process, grabbing my head with a fierce grip and shoving her cock into my mouth, the salty, musky taste overwhelming as she thrust, her hips rocking with relentless hunger.

[DeviKamasutra]

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[Abirkkz]

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[Abirkkz]

Part 7

The air in the cramped, grimy room was thick with the stench of sweat and sex, the dim bulb casting flickering shadows across the damp-stained walls. My heart pounded, my mind reeling as I stared at Rita’s body, her dusky curves still glistening from our earlier frenzy. Where I expected the soft folds of a pussy, a small, black cock hung instead, soft but twitching, nestled in a dense thicket of coarse hair. Shock hit me like a slap, my voice erupting in a raw shout, “What the fuck, Rita? You’re a hijra?” My words echoed in the tiny room, but she didn’t flinch. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked confidence, and before I could pull away, her hands clamped onto my head, strong and unyielding, forcing her cock past my lips.

The musky, salty taste of her flooded my mouth, her soft shaft hardening against my tongue as she thrust with slow, deliberate precision. My throat tightened, gagging as her cock pushed deeper, the head grazing the back of my throat. Her balls, heavy and warm, slapped against my chin with each thrust, the coarse hair tickling my skin. I groaned, my voice muffled, “Rita, stop! What the hell are you doing?” My hands pushed against her thighs, but her grip was iron, her fingers digging into my scalp. She laughed, low and sultry, her voice dripping with mockery. “Babu, you begged to suck my pussy. Now suck my cock like the slut you are.” Her hips rocked faster, her cock sliding in and out, slick with my saliva, the bitter tang of her precum coating my tongue. My body betrayed me, a sickening heat pooling in my groin despite the rage and humiliation burning in my chest. “Mmm… mmm…” I choked, my protests drowned by the relentless rhythm of her thrusts. “Suck it, babu,” she purred, her voice a velvet taunt. “Swallow every fucking drop of my cum.”

Her cock swelled, stretching my lips, filling my mouth as she fucked my face with savage intensity. Tears stung my eyes, my throat raw as her cock plunged deeper, hitting the back of my throat with each thrust. I tried to pull away, my hands clawing at her thighs, but she held me like a vice, her nails biting into my skin. “You’re gonna drink my load, babu,” she growled, her voice thick with lust. “This cock was made for your filthy mouth.” My body trembled, caught in a twisted storm of disgust and arousal, my cock throbbing traitorously in my lungi. Suddenly, her cock pulsed, and hot, thick cum flooded my mouth, spilling over my lips, dripping down my chin, and coating my tongue with its salty, bitter taste. I spat it out, gagging, the sticky residue clinging to my lips. “What the fuck, you bitch?” I roared, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my voice shaking with fury. “You came in my fucking mouth?” Rita smirked, her eyes glinting with triumph. “I warned you, babu. My pussy’s a mystery. You wanted to taste it, and now you have.”

I stumbled to my feet, rage and humiliation crashing through me like a tidal wave. “You fucking hijra! I fucked a hijra, and you came in my mouth!” My voice cracked, my body trembling with anger. Rita stepped closer, her dusky body still radiating a dangerous allure, her curves taunting me despite my disgust. She wrapped her arms around me, her lips brushing mine, sucking her own cum from my mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. Her tongue tangled with mine, the bitter taste of her load mixing with the heat of her mouth, sending a shiver through me. “Don’t be mad, my sweet,” she whispered, her breath hot against my lips. “You loved every second of it. Come back, and I’ll show you pleasures you can’t imagine.” My mind screamed with fury, but my cock twitched, still hard, betraying my shame. I tore myself from her grip, her laughter echoing in my ears as I stumbled out of the room, the dank air of the alley hitting me like a slap.

The narrow alley was alive with the city’s underbelly—beggars muttering, street girls calling out, the stench of drains and decay heavy in the air. My head spun, images of Rita’s cock, my mouth wrapped around it, the taste of her cum searing my mind. “Fuck,” I muttered, my voice low and bitter. “I fucked a hijra.” Rage, shock, and a lingering, shameful heat churned inside me, my cock still pulsing in my lungi, refusing to soften. The city’s neon glow pulsed in the distance, the chaotic hum of Kolkata’s streets pulling me deeper into its dark embrace.

A beggar woman stepped into my path, her figure small but striking, around thirty, her torn sari clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her eyes glinted with a seductive hunger, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Babu, help me out,” she said, her voice low and suggestive, the gap in her sari revealing the deep cleavage of her full breasts. My cock surged again, the fire in my veins reigniting. I glanced around—the alley was empty, the shadows swallowing us. A dark plan formed in my mind, fueled by the depravity that had taken root in me. “Alright,” I said, my voice steady, laced with a dangerous edge. “Come to my flat. I’ll give you food and more money than you’ve ever seen.” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, a flicker of desperation mixed with intrigue. I knew my flat was about to become a stage for my twisted desires, a den where I could unleash the beast inside me.

We reached my small, dimly lit flat, the air heavy with the scent of my earlier sins. I locked the door with a click that echoed like a promise. I gestured to the worn sofa. “Sit.” Her sari parted slightly as she sat, revealing the curve of her breasts, her slim waist, and the round, firm swell of her ass. My cock strained against my lungi, hard and aching, the sight of her igniting a primal hunger. I stepped closer, my voice low and commanding, dripping with lust. “Tonight, you do everything I say. I’ll show you pleasure you’ve never dreamed of, but on my terms.” Her voice trembled, her eyes wide with fear. “Babu, I just want food and money. Please, don’t hurt me.” I smirked, my cock throbbing at her vulnerability. “You’re my slut now,” I growled. “I’ll do whatever I want, and you’ll obey.”

I brought a plate of roti, curry, and a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it before her. “Eat,” I said, my eyes never leaving her. “Then we play.” She attacked the food like a starved animal, curry smearing her lips, her hands shaking with hunger. I watched, my mind racing with the depraved acts I’d force upon her. Her desperation, her need, made her mine, a canvas for my darkest desires. When she finished, wiping her mouth with trembling fingers, she looked up, her voice soft and uncertain. “Babu, you’re kind. What now?” I leaned in, my eyes hard, my voice a low growl. “Now you lick every inch of my body—my armpits, my ass, my cock, my toes. Every fucking part of me.” Her eyes widened, fear and humiliation flashing across her face. “Babu, that’s filthy! I can’t!” I grabbed her hair, yanking it hard, her gasp fueling my arousal. “You’ll do it, or I’ll throw you back on the street with nothing.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she nodded, her submission sending a surge of power through me, my cock pulsing with need.

I ripped off my shirt, my armpits slick with sweat, matted with thick, dark hair. “Lick my armpit,” I ordered, my voice thick with lust. “Taste my sweat, you slut.” Her trembling hands reached for me, her face inches from my pit, her breath hitching as tears glistened in her eyes. Her tongue flicked out, grazing my sweaty skin, the salty, musky taste hitting her. I pressed her face deeper, her nose buried in my hair, the coarse strands tickling her lips. “Harder,” I growled. “Eat every drop of my sweat.” She licked, gagging softly, her tongue sliding through the hair, the sensation sending a jolt through my cock, making it throb harder. “How’s it taste, you filthy whore?” I taunted, my hand tightening in her hair. She sobbed, her voice breaking, “Babu, it’s disgusting. Please stop.” I laughed, the sound dark and cruel. “Disgusting or not, you’ll lick every fucking inch of me until I’m satisfied.”

I pushed her onto the sofa, tearing her torn sari away with a savage tug. Her naked body lay exposed, vulnerable, and perfect—firm, round breasts with hard, dark nipples jutting out, a scarred stomach etched with the marks of a hard life, a slim waist curving into a lush, round ass that begged to be claimed. My cock throbbed, aching to bury itself in her. I grabbed a bottle of honey from the kitchen, my eyes glinting with depravity. “Now you’ll lick honey off me,” I said, pouring the golden liquid over her breasts. It dripped over her nipples, trickling down her stomach, pooling in her navel. I leaned in, my tongue lapping at her breasts, the sweet honey mixing with the salty tang of her sweat, her skin warm and trembling under my mouth. I sucked her nipples hard, biting them, making her cry out, “Babu, what are you doing? I’m ashamed!” Her voice shook, but I growled, “Ashamed? You’re my slut, made for my pleasure.” I bit harder, my teeth sinking into her nipple, her scream—“Ah! Babu, slow, it hurts!”—only stoking the fire in my veins. My cock pulsed, dripping precum, as her pain fueled my hunger.

I grabbed a black cloth and tied it tightly over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. “You see nothing now,” I said, my voice a low, menacing purr. “Just feel me and obey.” Her body shook harder, her breaths shallow, her vulnerability driving me wild. I pressed my hand to her throat, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her pulse racing under my fingers. “Babu, I can’t breathe!” she choked, her voice trembling with fear. “You’ll breathe when I say,” I snapped, my hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples until she whimpered, “Ah! Babu, please!” Her helplessness was intoxicating, my cock aching with need. “You’re mine in this darkness,” I growled, flipping her onto her stomach, her round ass raised high, begging for my touch. I spread her cheeks, her tight, puckered asshole small and impossibly inviting. “Lick my ass now,” I ordered, my voice dripping with lust. She screamed, “No, babu, that’s filthy! I can’t!” I slapped her ass hard, the crack echoing, a red mark blooming on her dusky skin. “Lick it, or I’ll choke you until you pass out.” I pressed my asshole to her face, her sobbing tongue flicking against it, the wet heat sending shivers through my body. “Deeper,” I growled, grinding against her. “Fuck my ass with your tongue.” Her tongue pushed inside, sliding against my walls, the sensation electric, my cock pulsing with pleasure. “How’s my ass taste, you dirty slut?” I taunted. She sobbed, “Babu, it’s disgusting. Please, mercy.” I laughed, cruel and unrelenting. “Keep licking, or I’ll make it worse.”

I flipped her onto her back, shoving my sweaty, dirt-caked toes to her face. “Suck my toes,” I ordered, my voice hard. “Taste my filth.” She cried, “Babu, it’s dirty! I can’t!” I yanked her hair, pulling her head back. “Suck, or I’ll slap your ass raw.” She took my toes in her mouth, her tongue swirling around them, the salty grit of sweat and dirt coating her lips. Her tears fell, her humiliation feeding my lust, my cock throbbing harder. I untied her blindfold, wanting her to see the raw hunger in my eyes, the beast I’d become. Fear and shame stared back, her eyes glistening with tears.

I tore off my lungi, my eight-inch cock standing rigid, the red tip glistening with precum. I pulled her onto my lap, my cock brushing her trembling lips. “Suck it,” I ordered. “Swallow my cum, you filthy whore.” She sobbed, “Babu, I can’t. It’s disgusting.” I slapped her face, leaving a red mark across her cheek. “Suck, or I’ll rip your pussy apart.” She took my cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head, sending waves of pleasure through me. I grabbed her head, thrusting into her throat, her gagging moans—“Mmm… mmm…”—driving me wild. Her saliva coated my cock, gleaming as I fucked her mouth, the wet sounds filling the room. “Harder,” I growled. “Drink every fucking drop.” My cum erupted, hot and thick, spilling over her lips, dripping down her cheeks and chin. She looked at me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with pain and humiliation, her face smeared with my load.

I dragged her to the bathroom, turning on the shower, the cold water cascading over her naked body, her nipples hardening instantly. “I’m gonna rip your pussy and ass apart,” I said, pushing her against the tiled wall and shoving my cock into her pussy. She was wet, her body betraying her fear, but she shook with pain as I fucked her hard, my cock plunging deep into her tight, slick heat. “Babu, slow! I can’t take it!” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “Shut up, slut,” I snarled, my hands gripping her hips. “Your pussy was made for my cock.” I slapped her ass, leaving red marks, the sound echoing in the small room. I smeared her pussy juices on my fingers, forcing them into her mouth. “Taste your filthy cunt,” I ordered. She sucked, her eyes brimming with shame, her tongue trembling against my fingers.

I flipped her, pressing her against the wall, my cock teasing her tight asshole. I smeared her pussy juices over my shaft, coating it, and pushed hard, her hole resisting. “No! Babu, take it out! I’ll die!” she screamed as my cock forced its way in, stretching her painfully. “You won’t die,” I growled. “Your ass is mine.” I fucked her hard, her tight hole gripping my cock like a vice, pleasure surging through me with every thrust. I slapped her ass, pinched her breasts, and squeezed her throat until she gasped, “Babu, I can’t breathe!” Her voice was desperate, but I snapped, “Take my cock, you whore.” My cum flooded her ass, hot and thick, as she collapsed against the wall, her body trembling, slick with water and sweat.

I held her, my hands roaming her wet, shivering body, my tongue licking the salty sweat from her neck, her skin warm and slick under my mouth. I tore her sari off again, her firm breasts and scarred stomach driving me wild, her round ass begging for more. I pushed her back onto the sofa, her pleas—“Babu, don’t ruin me!”—falling on deaf ears. “Shut up,” I snapped. “You’re mine.” I sucked her nipples, biting hard, her cries—“Ah! Babu, it hurts!”—stoking my fire. I fingered her pussy, her wetness coating my hand, and forced my fingers into her mouth. “Taste your cunt,” I growled. She sucked, tears streaming down her face.

I flipped her, her ass raised, and buried my tongue in her asshole, probing deep as her body shook. “No, babu, it’s dirty!” she screamed. “Your ass is mine,” I growled, fucking her hole with my tongue, then sliding two fingers inside, stretching her. She screamed, “Ah! Stop!” but I didn’t, my cock throbbing with need. I slapped her ass until it glowed red, then fucked her tight hole again, her cries mixing with my groans as I filled her with cum.

I pulled her onto my lap, my cock sliding into her pussy as I made her ride me. “Dance on my cock,” I ordered, slapping her ass as she moved, her pussy juices making wet, obscene sounds. “Babu, I can’t anymore!” she sobbed, her body trembling with exhaustion. “One more,” I growled, pushing her onto the sofa and fucking her mouth until my cum spilled over her face again, coating her lips and chin. In the shower, I fucked her ass one last time, her body collapsing as my cum filled her, her cries echoing in the tiled room.

I cleaned her up, handing her an old sari and a thick wad of cash. “Go,” I said, my voice cold. “Don’t tell anyone.” She took the money, her hands shaking, her eyes filled with pain, humiliation, and a broken resignation. “Babu, you ruined me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she stumbled out the door. I watched her go, a twisted calm settling over me, laced with a gnawing guilt. My flat had become a den of depravity, a stage for my darkest desires. I knew I was spiraling into an abyss, but the fire in my veins burned too hot, and I couldn’t stop.

[Abirkkz]

Part 8

The morning light pierced through my tattered curtains, but my mind was trapped in the feverish haze of last night. Rita’s dusky, naked body writhed beneath me, her soft cock grinding against my lips, the musky, salty tang of her cum flooding my mouth, clinging to my tongue like a forbidden secret. The memory sent a shudder of revulsion through me, yet my cock twitched, betraying me with a dark, pulsing thrill. Then came the beggar woman—her torn sari slipping to reveal the deep, sweat-slicked cleavage of her heavy, jiggling breasts, the scarred expanse of her thick belly glistening under the dim light, her round, swaying ass begging to be claimed. It had set my blood on fire, but a gnawing fear followed. What if she ran to the security officer? My heart pounded with dread, and I vowed never to return to that sinful alley, that cesspool of depravity.

I threw myself back into the monotony of my life—mornings buried in office files, enduring my boss’s grating voice, forcing laughs with colleagues over stale coffee. At night, I’d retreat to my flat, peel off my lungi, and surrender to the glowing screen of my laptop. Pornhub, XNXX, Xvideos—they were my refuge, a twisted carnival of fetishes. BDSM with leather whips cracking against quivering flesh, group sex with bodies tangled in sweaty, writhing heaps, public humiliation where women’s shame fueled my lust, foot worship where toes were sucked with desperate hunger, body worship where every inch of skin was devoured. I’d pour coconut oil into my palm, the cool, slippery liquid dripping over my throbbing cock, coating the swollen head as I stroked. The slick friction made my body tremble, the screen alive with women’s guttural moans, men’s filthy curses, the wet slap of flesh pounding flesh. My hand moved faster, my cock swelling until it felt like it would burst, my balls tightening as cum erupted, splattering the bedsheet in thick, creamy ropes. My body collapsed, spent, but the hollow ache in my chest never left.

One humid night, I found a video on XNXX that set my soul ablaze. A husband fucked his wife in front of a leering crowd, her naked body drenched in sweat, her massive breasts bouncing wildly, her pussy glistening with juices that dripped down her thighs. Her round, jiggling ass quaked with each brutal thrust, the men around her jeering, their voices dripping with lust. “Fucking slut, your cunt’s burning for cock! We’ll rip that fat ass apart!” they taunted. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of shame and raw desire, her moans raw and desperate as her husband’s thick cock plunged deep into her soaking pussy. “Watch, you bastards, this is how I own my whore!” he roared, his hips slamming into her with savage force. My cock surged, rock-hard and aching. I tore off my lungi, poured coconut oil over my shaft, the slick glide sending shivers through me as I stroked, imagining myself in her, my hands crushing her heavy tits, my palm slapping her quivering ass. Her moans filled my ears, the rhythmic slap of her husband’s thrusts driving me to the edge. My cum exploded, soaking the sheet, my body trembling as I collapsed, but the emptiness gnawed deeper.

That video dragged me back to the slum—Mina’s thick, luscious body, her torn sari barely concealing the deep cleavage of her full, heavy breasts, the sweat-slicked scars on her plump belly, the hypnotic sway of her round ass. Her tearful moans echoed in my mind, her trembling body under my touch, Kalu’s brutal thrusts as he spilled his cum into her pussy and across her belly. The memories ignited a primal, forbidden hunger I couldn’t ignore. I slammed the laptop shut, threw on a shirt and pants, and stepped into the humid night. The city was silent, save for distant car horns and the occasional bark of a stray dog. My feet carried me to the slum, my mind a storm of lust and shame—Mina’s tear-streaked eyes, Rima’s shy smile, Kakima’s broken sobs pulling me deeper into the abyss. I needed to drown my pain in flesh, to lose myself in the heat of raw, animalistic desire.

In the slum’s filthy, shadow-dbangd alley, I spotted Kalu slouched against a crumbling shopfront, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The stench of cheap liquor and stale sweat clung to him, his bloodshot eyes glinting under the flickering streetlight, his muscular frame barely covered by a filthy vest and torn pants. His arms, slick with sweat, flexed as he took a drag, smoke curling through the gaps in his crooked teeth. He saw me and grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Well, fuck, Akash! You crawled back to us, huh?” His voice dripped with mocking camaraderie, like I was his long-lost brother. I stayed silent, Mina’s tearful eyes burning in my mind. He stepped closer, his rough, calloused hand clamping my shoulder, the heat of his touch sending a jolt of unease through me. “Forget that night, man. I was shitfaced, talking nonsense. Come back anytime, fuck my wife as much as you want—no issue.” His words hit like a punch, my head spinning. “What the fuck are you saying?” I growled. “Why would I touch Mina? And why the hell would you let me?”

Kalu’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with raw greed. He leaned in, his breath a rancid mix of liquor and cigarettes, making my stomach churn. His hand slid down, grazing my cock through my pants, squeezing with a boldness that made my blood boil. “Don’t get pissed, Akash,” he purred, his voice low and sly. “You’re a big shot now—fancy flat, fat paycheck, living the high life. You think Mina would dare say no to you? I’ll drag her to you myself, let you fuck her senseless. Just throw me some cash for my booze, yeah? Shit ain’t free, and I’m always scbanging by.” Rage surged through me, but I saw it clearly—my job, my flat, my money made me his golden ticket. I forced my voice to stay steady. “Fine, we’ll see. Where’s Mina?”

His eyes sparked with lust, a twisted hunger. “Follow me. She’s at home. Tonight, you fuck her, and I get to watch.” His words stirred a sickening cocktail of desire, humiliation, and dark excitement in my gut. I trailed him through the muddy, trash-strewn alley, the faint wail of a radio and children’s shouts echoing in the distance. We reached his shack—a crumbling hovel with a rusted tin roof, a dirt floor, a broken bed, a wobbly plastic chair, and a flickering bulb casting dim, eerie shadows. Mina lay sprawled on the bed, deep in sleep, her thick, voluptuous body dbangd in a torn sari. The fabric had slipped, exposing the deep, glistening cleavage of her heavy breasts, her sweat-soaked belly marked with scars, her round, plump ass raised high beneath the thin cloth. Her tangled hair framed her face, sweat beading on her forehead, her full lips parted, her breath soft and heavy. Her thick thighs peeked through the sari’s gap, every curve screaming raw, primal sexuality. My cock surged, straining against my pants, throbbing with desperate need.

Kalu shook her roughly. “Wake the fuck up, Mina! Look who’s here!” She jolted awake, her eyes bleary with sleep, widening in shock as they landed on me. She scrambled to fix her sari, but the flimsy fabric clung to her curves, her hard, dark nipples poking through, her sweaty belly shimmering under the dim light. Her round ass pressed into the bed, its fullness making my mouth water. “Akash, you’re here?” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry about that night. I didn’t want it. Please, just leave.” Her eyes glistened with fear and shame, but there was a faint, quivering note of desire in her voice that set my blood on fire.

Kalu’s eyes blazed with fury. “You’re kicking Akash out? You fucking bitch!” he roared, grabbing her hair and yanking her toward me. Her thick body trembled, her sari slipping further, exposing the full, deep cleavage of her breasts, her sweaty belly glistening with droplets that pooled around her navel. Tears shimmered in her eyes, her full lips quivering as she struggled weakly against his grip. “Kalu, let her go,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m not forcing shit.” But Kalu’s laugh was cruel, dripping with sadistic glee. “Don’t worry, Akash. Mina knows her place. You’ll fuck her, and I’ll enjoy the show.” He ripped her sari off, her thick, naked body bared before me like a feast. Her heavy breasts sagged slightly, their dark, hard nipples begging to be touched. Sweat cascaded down her plump belly, pooling in her deep navel. Her pussy, shrouded in thick, dark hair, revealed pink, glistening lips through the tangle. Her round, fat ass was a masterpiece, begging for my hands, my cock, my everything. My cock throbbed painfully, my body burning with a primal, unstoppable lust.

“I’m not fucking that hairy, filthy cunt,” I snarled, my voice sharp with disgust. Pain flashed in Mina’s eyes, her lips trembling, but she stayed silent. Kalu grinned, his eyes glinting with malice. “No problem, Akash. I’ll clean her up for you.” He grabbed a rusty razor and a grimy bowl from the corner, shoving Mina onto the bed and forcing her thick thighs apart. She turned her face away, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling as I held her arms to keep her still. “Mina, don’t move,” I said softly, trying to calm her. “We won’t hurt you.” Kalu worked the razor with slow, deliberate strokes, scbanging away the thick hair, the cold metal grazing her sensitive skin. Her body quaked, soft, involuntary moans escaping her lips as the hair fell away, revealing her pink, glistening pussy lips. Kalu wiped her clean with a damp, filthy cloth, her bare pussy now shimmering with sweat and water, a perfect, inviting target. I stared at her, her eyes a swirling mix of shame, fear, and raw, undeniable desire. “Now it’s perfect,” I growled, my voice thick with hunger. “Time to fuck.”

Kalu’s smirk was pure filth. “Go on, Akash. Pound that pussy. I’ll watch every second.” I tore off my pants, my eight-inch cock springing free, rigid and pulsing, the red tip glistening with precum. I leaned over Mina, my hands roaming her heavy, slick breasts, her hard nipples pressing into my palms like bullets. I pinched them hard, twisting until she gasped, her thick body trembling beneath me. I grabbed a bottle of coconut oil from the shack’s tiny kitchen, pouring it over her voluptuous frame. The golden liquid cascaded over her breasts, dripping down her scarred belly, pooling in her deep navel, and trickling toward her bare pussy. Her skin gleamed, slick and irresistible, every curve begging to be claimed. I massaged the oil into her breasts, their softness sliding under my hands, then buried my face in them, sucking her nipples hard, the sweet oil mixing with the salty, musky tang of her sweat. Mina moaned, her voice a desperate whimper. “Akash, you’re fucking driving me insane!” Her words dripped with shame and pleasure, her body arching into my touch.

I slid my hand down to her pussy, now slick with oil and her own juices, and plunged two fingers inside, her warm, tight walls gripping me like a vice. She moaned louder, her thick ass quivering against the creaking bed, her juices dripping onto the mattress. I grabbed a jar of honey, pouring the golden, sticky liquid over her pussy, watching it drip over her pink lips and down to her tight, puckered asshole. I buried my face between her thighs, my tongue lapping at the sweet honey mixed with her tangy, musky juices, probing deep into her pussy’s hot, wet depths. Mina screamed, her voice raw with pleasure. “Akash, fuck, harder!” Her thick thighs clamped around my head, her hips bucking against my mouth, her pussy grinding against my tongue.

Kalu stood watching, his eyes blazing with lust, his pants gone, his thick cock standing rigid, veins bulging. “Fuck her pussy, Akash,” he growled. “I’m taking her mouth.” I pressed my cock against her pussy, her slick juices coating the tip, making it glisten. I pushed in slowly, savoring the way her tight, hot walls gripped me, then fucked her hard, my hips slamming into her with brutal force. Her thick body shook, her heavy breasts bouncing wildly, her scarred belly rippling with each thrust. Her round ass slapped against the bed, the wet, rhythmic sound filling the shack. I crushed her breasts in my hands, pinching her nipples until she cried out, her moans a symphony of pleasure and pain. “Akash, you’re fucking tearing me apart!” she screamed, her voice thick with ecstasy, her pussy clenching around my cock.

Kalu shoved his cock into her mouth, her full lips wrapping around it as he thrust deep into her throat, her muffled moans vibrating against his shaft. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling hard as his cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag. “Mina, you’re sucking like a fucking pro,” he groaned, his hips pumping faster. I slapped her ass hard, leaving a red handprint on her plump cheek, her slick body grinding against me, oil and honey making her skin glisten.

Kalu grinned, his eyes wild. “Now her ass, Akash. Tear it up.” I flipped Mina onto her stomach, her thick, round ass raised high, begging to be fucked. I poured more oil and honey over her, the liquids dripping into her tight asshole, making it glisten like a forbidden jewel. I pressed my cock against her puckered hole, the slickness easing the way as I pushed in, her tight walls resisting then yielding to my girth. Mina moaned, her voice raw and desperate. “Akash, you’re ripping my fucking ass!” But there was no pain in her cry—only pure, animalistic pleasure. Her tight asshole gripped my cock like a vice, sending electric shocks through my body. I fucked her hard, my hips slamming into her, her ass cheeks jiggling with each thrust, the wet slap echoing in the shack. I slapped her ass again, harder, leaving red marks as her moans grew louder, her body trembling. Kalu kept fucking her mouth, his cum suddenly erupting, splattering her lips, cheeks, and chin in thick, creamy ropes. She licked it off, her tongue swirling over her lips, a sultry, wicked smile spreading across her face. “Mina, you’re a fucking slut,” Kalu laughed, his voice dripping with lust. She grinned, her eyes blazing. “You and Akash are driving me fucking wild!”

My cum exploded, flooding her tight asshole, spilling out and dripping down her thick, trembling thighs. Her body, slick with oil, honey, sweat, and cum, glistened like a depraved masterpiece under the dim bulb. I slapped her ass one last time, watching it jiggle as she collapsed, panting, her lips curled in a satisfied, exhausted smile.

Kalu’s voice cut through the haze. “Akash, you’re a fucking beast. Mina, get up. Serve him more.” She sat up, her naked body a vision of raw sexuality—sweat, oil, and honey coating her skin, her heavy breasts trembling, her scarred belly shimmering with droplets, her round ass still quivering from my thrusts. She lowered her eyes in shame, but Kalu’s glare forced her to move. “Lick his cock, Mina. Taste his fucking sweat,” he ordered. She knelt beside me, her soft, slick hands stroking my cock, the sensation reigniting the fire in my veins. Her warm, full lips kissed the tip, her tongue swirling over the head, lapping up the mix of oil, honey, and my precum. I groaned, pleasure overwhelming me as her saliva coated my shaft, making it glisten. Kalu watched, his eyes burning with hunger, then grabbed my cock, his rough, calloused hand squeezing hard, his nails grazing the sensitive skin. “Your cock’s fucking iron, Akash,” he growled, his touch sending a twisted mix of pleasure and unease through me.

Mina sucked my cock deeper, her tongue swirling, her fingers teasing my balls, her nails grazing the tender skin, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Kalu barked, “Lick his ass, Mina. Get in there.” She lifted my legs, spreading my cheeks wide, her hot, wet tongue flicking against my asshole, then plunging inside, probing deep. My body shook, pleasure surging as I moaned, “Mina, you’re fucking killing me!” Her tongue worked my ass, sliding against the tight walls, sending shivers through my core. Kalu leaned down, his liquor-soaked breath hitting me like a wave, his lips brushing my cock, his tongue swirling over the tip, his teeth grazing lightly, sending a shock of pleasure and shock through me. “Kalu, what the fuck are you doing?” I groaned, my voice torn between disgust and ecstasy. “You’re our brother, Akash,” he rasped, his mouth closing around my cock. “I’ll do anything for you.” Mina’s tongue fucked my ass, Kalu’s mouth sucked my cock, their touches driving me to the brink of madness.

Kalu stood, his cock hard again, veins bulging, precum dripping. He ordered Mina to lick my body clean. She grabbed another bottle of coconut oil and the honey jar, pouring the slick oil over my chest, letting it cascade down my abs, pooling around my cock. She drizzled honey over my nipples, my navel, my cock, the sticky sweetness mixing with my sweat. Her tongue glided over my chest, teasing my nipples, sucking them hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive buds, making me groan. She licked lower, her tongue circling my navel, lapping up the sweet, sticky honey mixed with my salty sweat. She took my cock in her mouth again, the sweet and salty flavors blending on her tongue, her lips sliding over my shaft, her tongue swirling over the head. I moaned, “Mina, fuck, harder!” Kalu grabbed my cock again, his rough hand stroking fast, his nails grazing as he watched, his own cock throbbing. “Let’s fuck her together, Akash,” he growled. I grinned, my body buzzing with lust. “Hell yeah, Kalu. Let’s do it.”

We flipped Mina onto her stomach, her thick, round ass raised high, her asshole slick with oil and honey, glistening like a forbidden prize. I slid two fingers into her tight hole, her moans filling the shack as her walls gripped me, her body trembling. I fucked her ass with my fingers, then pressed my cock against her hole, sliding in with ease, her tightness driving me wild. I pounded her hard, her ass cheeks jiggling, the wet slap of flesh echoing as I slapped her, leaving red handprints. Kalu shoved his cock into her mouth, her moans muffled as he fucked her throat, his hands pulling her hair. He pulled out, grabbing my cock again, sucking it hard, his teeth grazing as Mina’s tongue returned to my ass, her hot, wet licks sending me spiraling. “You’re fucking driving me insane!” I roared, my body trembling under their relentless assault.

I pushed Mina onto her back, pouring honey over her bare pussy, watching it drip over her pink lips and down to her asshole. I buried my face in her pussy, licking the sweet honey mixed with her tangy juices, my tongue probing deep, sucking her clit until she screamed, her thick thighs clamping around my head. Kalu squeezed her heavy breasts, pinching her nipples hard, twisting until she moaned, her body writhing. I fucked her pussy hard, my cock plunging deep, her walls gripping me as her body shook, her moans blending with Kalu’s as he fucked her mouth. My cum erupted, flooding her pussy, spilling out and dripping down her thighs. Kalu’s cum sprayed across her face, coating her lips, cheeks, and chin. She licked it off, her tongue swirling, a wicked, lustful smile spreading across her face.

We collapsed on the creaking bed, Mina’s body a glistening mess of oil, honey, sweat, and cum, her thick ass and heavy breasts trembling with each breath. Kalu grinned, his eyes glinting with greed. “Akash, you’re our fucking brother. Come back anytime, we’ll do this again. But don’t forget—booze ain’t cheap. Hook me up with some cash, and I’ll make sure you get more.” I smirked, a dark, twisted satisfaction settling in my gut. “Sure, Kalu. I’ll take care of it.” I looked at Mina, her eyes a swirling mix of shame, desire, and surrender, and knew I was drowning in this dark, addictive world, with no desire to escape.

[Abirkkz]

Part 9


The morning sun pierced through the grimy curtains of my small flat, dragging me out of a restless sleep. My head throbbed, not from drink but from a storm of guilt that churned inside me like a monsoon flood. Mina’s face haunted me—her soft, trembling body under my touch, her low, tear-soaked moans echoing in my ears, the weight of her life’s struggles pressing against my conscience. Kalu had dangled her in front of me like a prize, and I’d taken her, fucking her with a hunger that now left a bitter taste. My chest tightened with unease, as if I’d crossed a line into a darkness I couldn’t escape. Yet, even as guilt clawed at me, my body betrayed me. My cock stirred, hardening at the vivid memory of Mina’s curves—the lush, soft folds of her heavy breasts, the rhythmic sway of her thick ass, the tight, wet grip of her pussy clamping around me. Her sweat-slicked skin, the scars on her belly glistening under that dim bulb, her trembling thighs—it was all burned into me, raw and unrelenting. I lay there, my breath uneven, my cock pulsing against my lungi, demanding attention. Why should I feel sorry for her? She was Kalu’s wife, her life bound to his choices. I’d only done what he’d pushed me to do. If he offered her up to another man, what was my sin? Her pain, her shame—they weren’t my burden. She wasn’t mine. In this lonely, fucked-up life, I had no one. I was alone, always had been, and I’d stay that way forever. The thought hit like a punch, a mix of rage, emptiness, and a strange, twisted freedom. My body burned with lust, but my mind was a hollow void, aching for something I couldn’t name. I dragged myself out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and threw on my office clothes, desperate to drown it all in the monotony of work.

The office was a blur of papers, phone calls, and my boss’s grating voice barking orders. But my mind kept slipping back to the slum—Mina’s soft, yielding body, her moans mixing with Kalu’s crude laughter, Rita’s wicked, knowing smile as she teased me with her cock. A restless itch grew inside me, like I’d lost something vital but craved more of the depravity I’d tasted. It was as if I was chasing a high I could never quite catch. By evening, I left the office drained, the city’s humid air clinging to my skin as I walked through the darkening streets. In a narrow alley, my eyes caught a gleam of chrome—a sleek, expensive car idling under a flickering streetlight. The door swung open, and there was Rita, the trans sex worker, her sari slipping to reveal the smooth curve of her bare breasts, her nipples dark and hard against the thin fabric. She adjusted the cloth with a slow, deliberate motion, her lips curling into a sultry grin, her eyes sparkling with a mischief that promised every forbidden pleasure. She climbed into the car, her hips swaying, her confidence radiating like heat. I stood frozen, my heart pounding. What a life, I thought. Riding in rich men’s cars, getting fucked for cash, owning her desires without shame. A stab of envy hit me, sharp and bitter, but my cock throbbed, straining against my pants. I’m just a lonely bastard, I thought. Maybe I should go to her, see what happens. My feet moved forward, drawn to the alley’s pull, but doubt crashed in. Fuck this. I don’t need her. I’ll go home, jerk off to porn, and handle my own shit. I turned away, my steps quickening as I fled to the safety of my flat.

Stepping inside, I locked the door, and a wave of relief washed over me. No chaos, no people, just me and the silence of my own space. My sanctuary. I kicked off my shoes, stripped down to my lungi, and opened my laptop, the screen’s glow casting shadows across the room. I pulled up Eporner, my fingers trembling as I clicked on “Chloe Cherry - Gang Bang Creampie 328.” The video loaded, and there she was—Chloe, young and radiant, her pale, soft body a vision of raw desire. Her small, perky tits jiggled slightly, her tight ass quivering as she moved. My cock stiffened instantly, pulsing with need. Her smooth skin, every curve and dip, held my gaze like a magnet. A group of men surrounded her, their massive cocks hard and gleaming, thrusting toward her open mouth. Chloe’s lips wrapped around one, her tongue swirling over the swollen tip, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. They fucked her face with brutal intensity, shoving their cocks down her throat as she gagged, saliva dripping in long, glistening strands, her eyes watering but glinting with a hungry, shameless smile. One grabbed her blonde hair, ramming his cock deeper, her muffled moans—“Mmm… mmm…”—vibrating through the speakers. Another positioned behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded her ass, her cheeks bouncing with each thrust, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. They took turns, relentless, fucking her pussy and ass, their cocks plunging deep, unloading inside her one after another. Cum oozed from her pussy, thick and white, dripping down her thighs, splattering across her face, her ass, her body glistening with their release. Her moans grew louder, a mix of pain and ecstasy, her body trembling under the onslaught. I tore off my lungi, grabbed a bottle of coconut oil, and slicked my cock, the slippery warmth making me shudder. My hand moved fast, stroking my swollen shaft, precum leaking as I watched Chloe’s pussy stretch, her ass quiver, her face coated in cum. The pleasure built, a storm raging in my body, my balls tightening until I erupted, my cum splattering across my hand, my stomach, the bedsheet, leaving me panting, my heart racing.

My phone buzzed, shattering the moment. I was too lost in Chloe’s bouncing ass, the sight of cocks sliding in and out, her moans ringing in my ears like a siren’s call. I ignored it, my hand still stroking, chasing the fading edge of my climax. It rang again, and rage flared. Who the fuck is calling now? My body shook, my cock still hard, my mind screaming to crawl through the phone and fuck whoever dared interrupt me. I switched it off, tossing it onto the bed, and tried to dive back into the video, but it had ended. My cock softened, the fire fading. Fuck this shit. I opened xossipy, scrolling until I found a story about a woman getting double-penetrated, her slick pussy stretched by two cocks, her moans vivid in my mind. The words painted a scene—her body trembling, her juices dripping, the men’s cocks grinding inside her, her screams of pleasure. My cock hardened again, and I switched to a YourPriya video, her slightly thick ass taking a cock deep, her moans raw and desperate. The sight of her ass jiggling, the sound of her cries, reignited the fire in me. I slicked my cock with more oil, my hand moving furiously, the slippery glide driving me wild. My cum erupted again, hot and thick, coating my hand, my stomach, dripping onto the bed. I collapsed, exhausted, my body sated but my mind still hollow, the phone forgotten. A strange calm settled over me, but the emptiness lingered. I closed my eyes, drifting into sleep, one thought echoing: I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way.



The next day, work buried the missed call in the back of my mind. Papers, meetings, the hum of the office drowned out the noise in my head, but the restlessness lingered, a low hum beneath the surface. On the bus ride home, the crowd pressed tight, bodies jostling in the humid, suffocating air. The bus’s sway, the heat, the sweat-soaked skin of strangers brushing against me—it all stirred a primal, hungry lust. My eyes roamed, restless, until they landed on a girl in a tight red college dress, the fabric clinging to her curves, her buttons straining over her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples pressed against the cloth, hard and teasing. Beside her, a guy in a matching red shirt, their bodies pressed close, their intimacy obvious. They were together, heading somewhere, their closeness electric. He brushed against her, his hand grazing her waist, and she turned, giving him a shy, sultry smile that screamed invitation. My cock twitched, straining against my pants. Suddenly, he moved behind her, his hand sliding under her arm to cup her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple through the fabric. Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal, her lips parting slightly as she leaned into him. I stared, my cock throbbing, the heat of the bus amplifying my hunger. No one else seemed to notice, their eyes averted, as if this was just another moment in the city’s chaos. Mustafa’s words rang in my head: “The city’s full of fun—don’t miss a single chance.” My cock strained harder, begging to break free, my body buzzing with a savage need.

I summoned my courage, pushing through the crowd until I stood in front of her. My chest pressed against her soft, heavy breasts, her nipples grazing my shirt, sending electric sparks through my skin. Her warmth, the faint sweaty scent of her body, hit me like a drug, my cock pulsing with need. She looked up, her eyes wide with unease but flickering with curiosity. I pressed my bulging cock against her stomach, the hard ridge making her body quiver, her breath catching. Pleasure surged through me, my cock rubbing her navel through her dress, the friction driving me wild. She glanced at the guy, her eyes pleading, but he glared at me, his mouth opening to protest. I leaned in, my voice low and sharp. “I saw everything. I’ve got it on video. Let me join, or I’ll make a scene and find your families.” His face drained of color, his eyes wide with fear and defeat. He stepped back, silent, his hands trembling.

The girl looked at me, her eyes a storm of fear, shame, and something else—desire, maybe, buried deep. I cupped her cheek, my fingers rough against her soft skin, and leaned in, kissing her deeply. Her lips were warm, sweet, parting under mine as my tongue slipped inside, grazing her teeth, tasting her. Her faint perfume, mixed with the musky scent of her sweat, flooded my senses, my cock hardening further. She moaned softly, her sounds vibrating against my mouth, her body pressing closer. I grabbed the guy’s hand, guiding it back to her breast. “Keep squeezing,” I whispered. “No problem.” Hesitant, he complied, his fingers massaging her breast, teasing her nipple until it stiffened under his touch. I slid my hand down, rubbing her pussy through her dress, feeling her wetness soak through the fabric, her slick lips parting under my fingers. Her body trembled, her thighs clenching, her breath uneven. Emboldened, I slipped my hand under her dress, my fingers brushing her panties, her warm, wet heat making my cock throb. I stroked her pussy, my fingers gliding over her slick lips, her juices coating me.

I reached back, grabbing the guy’s cock through his pants, surprised by its soft, limp weight. He stared, shocked, his eyes wide. “What’s this?” I whispered, smirking. “A soft dick like this? How’ll you fuck her with that?” He stammered, “We don’t get chances like this. Just messing around on the bus.” The girl shot him a furious look, her face tight with frustration. I grinned. “No worries. I live alone. Come to my place, fuck as much as you want—but I’m joining in.” He nodded quickly, desperate. “Sounds good. You won’t hurt us, right?” “Why would I?” I said, my voice smooth. “I just want to have fun and make sure you do too.” The girl snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “What are you doing? Taking me to a stranger’s house to get fucked by both of you? We’re done!” The guy pleaded, “Sorry, I fucked up.” I laughed, low and confident. “Just have fun with me. I’ll make you forget your anger.”

We worked her together in the crowded bus, our hands relentless. I squeezed her soft, heavy breasts, their weight filling my palms, her nipples hard as I pinched them, rolling them between my fingers. She moaned, her body grinding against mine, her warmth seeping into me. The guy joined in, his fingers teasing her nipples through her dress, his touch hesitant but growing bolder. I slid my hand under her panties, stroking her slick pussy lips, her juices dripping, coating my fingers. I spread her lips, slipping a finger inside, her tight walls gripping me, pulsing with heat. She shuddered, her body leaning into mine, her breath ragged. I unzipped my pants, freeing my rock-hard cock, and pressed it against her pussy, the tip rubbing her wet lips through her panties, the friction electric. I pushed, but her pussy was so tight, only the head slipped in, her walls squeezing me, pleasure crashing through me like a tidal wave. The guy covered her mouth, muffling her moans as they grew louder, her body trembling between us. I thrust harder, my cock inching deeper, her tightness driving me to the edge.

The guy unzipped his pants, his soft cock brushing against mine as he pressed behind her. I grabbed it, stroking until it hardened, its warmth pulsing in my hand. I guided it to her asshole, pressing the tip against her tight hole. He thrust, his cock barely entering as she moaned, her body shaking, caught between us. I knelt, taking his cock in my mouth, its warm, salty taste filling me as I sucked hard, my lips gliding over the tip, my tongue swirling. Then I buried my face in her pussy, my tongue lapping her slick lips, her tangy juices flooding my mouth, her scent intoxicating. She moaned louder, her thighs clamping around my head, her body trembling. I guided his cock into her pussy, his thin shaft sliding halfway in, stretching her. She tried to scream, but I stood, pressing my mouth to hers, her moans melting into me, her lips soft and desperate. He fucked her, his cock slipping deeper, until his cum erupted, hot and slick, dripping from her pussy, coating her thighs. I scooped some, tasting its salty tang, the rawness sending a jolt through me. I smeared the rest on my cock, slicking it before thrusting back into her pussy. The cum’s slipperiness let me sink halfway in, her tight walls gripping me, pleasure surging like wildfire. I fucked her hard, her pussy rubbing my cock, the wet heat overwhelming. My cum exploded, hot and thick, mixing with hers, dripping down her thighs, pooling on the bus floor.

I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear. “Tell me, how was it?” She blushed, her voice barely a whisper. “Honestly, it was incredible. I never imagined this much pleasure in a crowded bus.” I grinned, my cock still twitching. “Come to my place sometime. The three of us will have even more fun.” She hesitated, her eyes flickering. “Maybe, but not today.” The guy looked at her, mumbling, “Sorry, I fucked up.” To me, he said, “Thanks for the fun.” I gave them my number, my fingers lingering on her hand. The bus hadn’t reached our stop. We held her close, my hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, slipping into her panties to stroke her dripping pussy. The guy rubbed her ass, his fingers teasing her tight hole, her body trembling between us, her moans soft but constant. When my stop came, I kissed her deeply, my tongue tasting her one last time, my fingers rubbing her pussy before I stepped off, the cool night air hitting my flushed skin.

Back home, I checked my phone—multiple missed calls from the same number. I called back, and Kakima’s voice answered, trembling, soaked in tears. “Akash, your uncle’s very sick. We’re helpless. He wants to see you. Please come to Halishahar soon.” My heart stopped. Why now, after all these years? Memories flooded back—childhood days at their house, Kakima’s sharp tongue cutting me down, playing hide-and-seek with Rima, her shy giggles echoing, my uncle’s quiet, distant presence. They’d all but erased me from their lives, and now, with his illness, they needed me. Anger mixed with duty, and I decided to go.

I planned to leave that night, but news came of riots on the roads—no travel for two days. I called Kakima, but Rima answered, her voice soft and warm, like a memory from a better time. “Akash da, how are you? When are you coming? Baba’s really sick.” My chest tightened at her tone, so familiar yet distant. “Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s trouble on the roads. I’ll leave the day after tomorrow.” I wanted to ask how she was, to hear more of her voice, but she hung up with a soft click, leaving me in silence. A strange warmth stirred—Rima’s voice, unchanged after all these years, clashing with Kakima’s sobs, my uncle’s illness, and the hollow ache in my chest. I returned to my flat, locking the door behind me.

My mind was a battlefield—Mina’s soft, yielding body, Rita’s sultry cock, the bus girl’s tight, dripping pussy—all fading as Rima’s voice and Kakima’s tears took over. I lay on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, one question burning: What’s waiting for me in Halishahar? My body still buzzed with the raw thrill of the bus, my cock twitching at the memory of her tight pussy, but my mind churned with Rima’s warmth, Kakima’s despair, and the emptiness that never left me. I closed my eyes, but sleep refused to come. The restlessness grew, my body alive with unspent desire, my mind heavy with questions. I’m alone, and I’ll stay that way. But what happens when I reach Halishahar?

[Abirkkz]

Part 10

Rima’s voice seared into my soul, a molten thread weaving through the chaos of my mind. Kakima’s tear-choked pleas, Rima’s trembling, honeyed tone, and the jagged shards of Halishahar’s memories clawed at my chest, leaving me raw and restless. I writhed on my bed, my body a furnace fueled by the ghost of the bus girl’s impossibly tight pussy, its slick, pulsing grip milking my cock, and the guy’s soft, warm dick brushing against mine, igniting a primal hunger deep in my core. My cock surged, rock-hard, straining against the confines of my pants, throbbing with a desperate need to rip free. Should I go to Mina? Her lush, ripe body—those heavy, yielding breasts, the dripping heat of her pussy, the way her curves melted under my touch—had once set my blood on fire. But now? The thrill had faded, tarnished by Kalu’s drunken greed, his willingness to sell her body for a bottle of cheap liquor. Fucking her felt mechanical, a hollow act devoid of the electric rush I craved. No spark, no fire—just a transaction. I shook my head, banishing the thought. Not Mina.

The dark alley whispered to me, its shadows curling around my desires like a lover’s breath. A shiver of raw anticipation snaked down my spine. That hidden world, alive with prostitutes—their soft, pliant bodies, their pussies clenching tight as a fist, their sweat-drenched skin exuding a musky, intoxicating scent that begged to be tasted. But then, the thought of trans women crept in, their bodies blurring the line between fantasy and fear in the dim light. What if I reached for a pussy and found a cock instead, hard and pulsing? Or worse, what if they turned the tables, their cocks claiming me? The idea sent a jolt of dread—and forbidden curiosity—through my veins, making my cock twitch harder. Too dangerous, I told myself. I can’t go there.

But the bus girl haunted me, her memory a burning brand on my mind. Her lush, little breasts, spilling against my chest, her nipples grazing my skin through her tight red dress. Her pussy—so tight, so fucking tight—had barely let my cock’s head breach its slick, virgin walls, gripping me like a vise. I imagined pinning her down, tearing through her hymen with one brutal thrust, her cries of pain and pleasure mingling as I fucked her raw, her pussy stretching to take every inch of me. The thought alone sent a tidal wave of lust crashing through me, my cock throbbing painfully. And the guy—his soft, inexperienced cock, his tight, untouched ass. He’d probably never fucked anyone, just groped his girlfriend in stolen moments on the bus, his hands fumbling with her curves. I pictured bending him over, my cock splitting his tight asshole, his body quaking under me as I pounded him, his moans raw and desperate. Then both of them together, a tangled mess of flesh and desire—my cock buried deep in her dripping pussy, my fingers probing his clenching ass, their bodies grinding against mine, slick with sweat. I’d kiss them, my tongue devouring theirs, their hot, panting breaths mixing with mine, their musky scent drowning my senses. I’d fuck their mouths, my cock slamming into their throats, their saliva dripping down my shaft, pooling on my balls. Her heavy breasts would fill my mouth, her nipples hard against my teeth as I bit and sucked. His ass would grip my cock like a vice, every thrust sending shudders through us both. Their moans, their trembling bodies, the wet, relentless friction of my cock—it consumed me, my body screaming with a primal, insatiable need.

The fantasy grew darker, more vivid. I pictured them in my flat, sprawled naked across my bed, their bodies glistening with sweat, begging to be claimed. I’d grab her breasts, their soft, heavy weight spilling over my hands, her nipples stiffening under my fingers as I pinched and twisted. I’d suck them hard, my tongue swirling over her sensitive buds, her sweet, sweaty musk filling my nose, driving me wild. The guy would kneel beside me, his soft cock in my grip, my fingers teasing the tip until it swelled, throbbing in my hand. I’d flip him onto his knees, doggy-style, my tongue plunging into his tight asshole, its hot, pulsing grip sending shivers through me as he moaned, his body trembling. She’d take my cock in her mouth, her lips a searing vice around the head, her tongue swirling, saliva dripping down my shaft, coating my balls. I’d grab her hair, fucking her throat with savage thrusts, her gagging sounds fueling my lust. My cock would press into his ass, the tight hole resisting before yielding, my shaft sinking deep into his heat as he groaned, his body shaking. Her pussy would drip, her fingers working her clit, her juices soaking the sheets. I’d bury my face in her cunt, my tongue lapping her slick, salty lips, her tangy essence flooding my mouth. Our bodies would collide, grinding, sweating, our moans a primal chorus echoing off the walls, the air thick with the scent of sex and surrender.

The fantasy shattered as my cock throbbed painfully, straining against my pants until it hurt. I grabbed my phone, my hands trembling, and dove into crazyshit.com, losing myself in videos of raw, unhinged fucking. One showed a woman ravaged by three men—one pounding her pussy, another her ass, the third ramming his cock down her throat. Her choked moans, the slick, relentless thrust of their cocks, their bodies trembling with raw need set my blood ablaze. I watched more, my hunger growing, insatiable. I switched to Pornhub, scrolling frantically until a video stopped me cold. The star, Eliza Ibarra, was Rima’s mirror—her full, heavy breasts, her soft, round ass, her sultry, knowing smile. I hit play, my breath catching. She sucked a guy’s cock, her tongue swirling over the tip, saliva dripping, her lips a tight seal around his shaft. He fucked her pussy, her lips gripping him, her moans vibrating through me. Her body trembled, her curves shaking with every thrust. Another video showed her with two men—one in her pussy, one in her ass—her body writhing, her moans raw and desperate. I jerked off, my hand a blur, Rima’s face burned into my mind, her trembling voice echoing in my ears. I imagined fucking her tight pussy, her walls clenching me, her moans drowning out the world. My cum erupted, hot and thick, spilling over my hand, staining the sheets. Exhausted, I collapsed, Rima’s voice still haunting me as I drifted into a restless sleep.



The next day was a haze of agitation. My only thought was when the road chaos would end so I could reach Halishahar. I took leave from work, but the streets were still blocked, the city a snarl of unrest. Defeated, I returned to my flat, locking the door and collapsing on the bed. The bus girl’s lush body, her tight, dripping pussy, the guy’s untouched ass—they swirled in my mind, my cock throbbing with need. But Rima’s trembling voice and Kakima’s wrenching sobs tore at me, a jagged knife in my soul.

Kakima’s call came again, her voice a desperate wail. “Akash, where are you? Come now!” The raw pain in her words hit me like a fist. “I’m leaving tomorrow, no matter what,” I said, my voice firm. “Let me talk to Rima.” A pause, then muffled sounds, as if Kakima was forcing the phone into Rima’s hands. Rima’s voice quivered, thick with tears. “Akash da, please come soon. Baba’s dying.” Her words broke into a sob, and she thrust the phone back to Kakima before I could respond. “Hurry, Akash,” Kakima begged. “Your uncle could go any moment. We have no one else.” I hung up, my restlessness swelling into a storm. What awaited me in Halishahar?

I couldn’t stay still. My phone was in my hand again, opening EroMe, diving into a torrent of OnlyFans leaks. Video after video of raw, filthy sex—a woman with two men, one fucking her pussy, another her mouth, her moans and their slick thrusts setting my body ablaze. I read a story on xossipy, a woman fucked by a stranger on a bus, the vivid description of her tight pussy and his slick cock making mine pulse. But nothing quelled the storm in my mind. My body burned with primal lust, but my soul ached, hollow and raw. I tossed the phone aside and stumbled out of the flat, wandering the city streets like a man possessed, my feet moving without direction.

Somehow, I ended up at the slum, outside Mina and Kalu’s shack. The night was thick, the alley silent but for distant dog barks and drunken laughter. Their door hung open, and inside, they slept on the dirt floor. Mina’s blouse was undone, her heavy breasts spilling free, her dark nipples hard and glistening in the faint light. Her thick pubic hair shimmered, framing her pussy, its musky scent hitting me like a drug, making my cock throb painfully. I knocked, and Mina jolted awake, her eyes blazing. “Akash, what the fuck are you doing here at this hour?” Her shout roused Kalu, his bloodshot eyes glinting, his breath a rancid cloud of liquor. He grinned, staggering over to wrap me in a sweaty, reeking embrace, his hot body pressing against mine. “Akash, you’re here! Tonight’s gonna be wild!” He pulled me down beside him, turning to Mina. “Strip, Mina. You’re fucking Akash tonight.” Her eyes flared with rage. “I’m done, Kalu! Stop selling me like a whore!” His face twisted, and he lunged, ripping her blouse away, her naked body exposed—her heavy breasts, her thick pubic hair, her round, juicy ass gleaming in the dim light. He slapped her hard, her cheek reddening. “Shut the fuck up, Mina! Akash pays, so you fuck!”

Kalu grabbed her hair, shoving her face toward my crotch. I unzipped my pants, my cock springing free, hard and pulsing. Mina’s eyes burned with fury and shame, but Kalu’s menace kept her silent. He forced her closer. “Suck his cock, Mina!” Her trembling hands gripped my shaft, her soft touch sending electric jolts through me. Her hot, wet lips brushed the tip, her tongue swirling, saliva dripping down my cock, pooling on my balls. I groaned, my voice thick with lust. “Fuck, Mina, you’re so good!” She took me fully, her lips hitting the base, her throat gagging as I thrust deeper, the wet, slurping sounds filling the shack. Her saliva coated me, dripping, as pleasure surged through my body. Kalu sat beside us, grinning like a madman, a liquor bottle in hand. His fingers roamed her ass, teasing her tight asshole, making her shudder, her mouth taking me deeper, her gagging moans vibrating against my cock.

I pulled out, rubbing my cock against her heavy breasts, her hard nipples grazing my shaft, sending sparks through me. I squeezed them, pinching her nipples until she moaned, her eyes a storm of tears and reluctant desire. Her pussy glistened through her thick hair, its pink lips swollen and wet, begging to be touched. I slid my hand down, my fingers gliding over her slick lips, slipping inside her dripping heat. She moaned louder, her voice breaking. “Akash, slow down, please!” I ignored her, fingering her harder, her walls clenching my fingers, her juices soaking me. Kalu squeezed her breasts, his fingers twisting her nipples as her body quaked, her moans echoing through the shack, raw and desperate.

But her tears hit me like a blade. The fury, the humiliation, the pain in her eyes cut through my lust, dousing the fire in my veins. My body screamed to fuck her, to bury my cock in her pussy and pound away my restlessness. But her sobs stopped me. I turned to Kalu, my voice cold. “I’m done here.” I shoved a crumpled note into his hand and walked out, Mina’s cries echoing in my ears, my mind a tangled mess of guilt and unspent desire.

The city streets swallowed me again, the night silent but for distant horns and footsteps. My feet carried me toward the dark alley, fear and lust warring in my chest. The thought of those prostitutes—their soft, sweat-slick bodies, their tight, dripping pussies, their musky scent—set my skin ablaze. The risk of trans women lingered, their cocks a potential shock in the shadows, but my body didn’t care. My cock throbbed, leading me forward. I reached the alley’s mouth, faint light spilling out, whispers of pleasure and danger drifting on the air. My heart pounded, my blood singing with need, as I stepped into the darkness, letting it consume me.

[Abirkkz]

Part 10 (Continued)

The dim glow of the dark alley cast a sultry haze over Shiuli as I approached her, my body igniting with raw, primal desire. Her tight blouse hugged every curve, her nipples pressing hard against the fabric, teasing my senses. She flashed a wicked smile, her voice dripping with mischief. “What’s up, Akash? All alone tonight? Where’s that thug you were with last time?” She meant Mustafa. I chuckled, brushing it off. “He comes and goes, not my keeper. Just a guy passing through the city. I’m solo tonight. Been looking for you before, but you were nowhere to be found.” I nodded toward Rita, standing a few paces away. “Fucked that trans woman last time, but the bitch shoved her dirty cock in my mouth at the end.” Shiuli burst into laughter, the sound so intoxicating it made my cock throb against my pants. She grabbed my hand, pulling me along as she teased, “Aww, poor baby, got your mouth fucked? Come on, tonight you’ll suck my pussy instead.”
I leaned in close, my voice low and hungry. “Come with me. My flat’s empty tonight.” Before I could finish, Rita sauntered over, her tight clothes accentuating her curves, her cock bulging under the fabric. She overheard and purred, “Empty flat? Take me too, Akash. I’ll make it fun.” A mix of anger and arousal flared in me. “What, so you can fuck my ass at my place?” I snapped. Rita laughed, her eyes glinting. “No, no, I’ll take your fucking.” My body burned hotter, desire overwhelming me. “Fine, both of you come. Grab another if you want.” Rita giggled and called over Mili, a curvy woman whose tight blouse strained against her heavy breasts and hinted at a cock beneath. “Come on, Mili,” Rita said. “We’re going to Akash’s for some serious fun.” Shiuli shot Mili and Rita a secretive, lustful grin. I didn’t catch the meaning, but my cock pulsed harder, straining against my pants. The four of us headed to my flat.
As soon as we stepped inside, I locked the door. Shiuli, Rita, and Mili scanned the room, their eyes roaming over the scattered bedsheets, strewn clothes, and the musky scent of my sweat lingering in the air. The dim yellow light bathed their bodies in a soft glow, making them shimmer with raw allure. Shiuli’s blouse clung to her, her nipples stark against the fabric. Rita’s skin glistened with sweat, her cock swelling under her clothes. Mili’s thick ass bounced with every step, barely contained by her tight outfit. The air grew heavy with their sweet, sweaty scent, and my cock throbbed, begging for release.
Mili moved first, pressing her soft body against my chest, her sweat-soaked breasts rubbing against my shirt. She wrapped her arms around me, her hot, wet lips crashing into mine. Her tongue dove into my mouth, tangling with mine, her salty taste flooding my senses. Her hands roamed my back, her nails lightly scratching my skin, sending electric jolts through me. I moaned, “Fuck, Mili, you’re driving me insane!” She smirked, her voice sultry. “Akash, this is just the start. I’ll make you lose your mind all night.” Her sweaty body ground against me, my cock straining to break free.

Rita slid behind me, her soft breasts pressing into my back. Her lips grazed my neck, her hot breath tickling my ear. My body shivered, my heart pounding. She whispered, “Akash, your scent is making me crazy.” Her tongue traced my neck, her teeth nibbling my earlobe. I groaned, “Rita, you’re setting my body on fire!” She chuckled, her hands sliding down my stomach, teasing the zipper of my pants. Her fingers brushed my cock, sending a tremor through me.
Mili and Rita worked together, their lips devouring me. Mili’s tongue swirled in my mouth, Rita’s lips grazed my cheeks and neck. Their hot breaths mingled with mine, their musky sweat filling my nose. Mili unbuttoned my shirt, Rita tugged down my zipper. Their hands roamed my body, nails grazing my skin. I groaned, “You’re gonna kill me!” Mili laughed, “Oh, Akash, we’re just getting started.” Rita whispered in my ear, “We’re gonna suck your cock dry, all three of us.” Their words sent waves of pleasure through me.
Shiuli knelt before me, yanking my pants off completely. My cock sprang free, rock-hard and glistening with precum. She looked up, her eyes dripping with lust. “Akash, this thing’s ready to go!” Her soft hand gripped my shaft, her fingers teasing the head. Her warmth spread through me, and I moaned, “Shiuli, you’re gonna make me lose it!” She brought her lips to my cock, her hot breath grazing the tip. The soft touch of her lips sent a jolt through me. She began sucking, her tongue swirling around my shaft, her saliva dripping down. She cupped my balls, her fingers stroking them, her nails lightly scratching. I was lost in ecstasy, groaning, “Shiuli, you’re fucking incredible! Suck it harder!” Her hot, wet mouth drove me wild, her tongue teasing every inch, my cock hitting her throat. I grabbed her head, thrusting deeper, the wet, slurping sounds filling the room.
Rita moved behind me, spreading my ass cheeks. Her soft hands caressed my skin, her fingers teasing my asshole. Her tongue flicked against it, the hot, wet sensation making me shudder. I cried out, “Rita, what the fuck! My ass is burning!” She laughed, “Just the beginning, Akash. Let’s see how much you can take.” Her tongue probed deeper, slick and relentless, as her finger slipped inside, stroking my walls. I screamed, “Rita, you’re killing me!” Her tongue and finger worked in tandem, sending waves of pleasure through me.
Mili stripped off my shirt, her hands gliding over my chest. Her lips found my nipples, sucking and nibbling. I groaned, “Mili, you’re setting me on fire!” She smirked, moving to my armpit, licking the sweaty hair, the salty taste spreading across her tongue. I grabbed her head, “Mili, you crazy bitch, why my armpit?” She laughed, “Your sweat’s driving me wild, Akash.” Her tongue lapped at my armpit, her teeth grazing my skin. My body trembled, my cock throbbing in Shiuli’s mouth.
Shiuli kept sucking, her hands playing with my balls, her nails scratching lightly. Rita’s tongue and finger worked my asshole, Mili’s lips roamed my chest, stomach, and armpits. Their touches overwhelmed me, and I screamed, “You’re driving me fucking insane! I can’t take it!” Their moans, their musky sweat, their heat—it was a storm of raw pleasure consuming me.
Suddenly, Rita stood, stripping off her clothes. Her full breasts bounced free, her cock and balls dangling, the tip glistening with precum. She moved behind me, rubbing her cock against my asshole. The hot, slick sensation sent shivers through me. But Mustafa’s memory flashed—his brutal fucking, the lingering pain. I snapped, “You fucking slut, get your dirty cock off my ass! Did I bring you here to fuck me? You’re taking my cock!” My voice was a mix of rage and lust, my cock still pulsing in Shiuli’s mouth.
Rita giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Why so mad, Akash? My cock in your ass would feel so good. Look how hard it is!” She pressed harder. I roared, “Shut it, whore! Last time you tricked me into sucking your filthy cock. I’m spending all this cash to get fucked? I’ll fuck your pussy, your ass, your cock—everything!” My words charged the air with raw, lustful tension.
Shiuli pulled back, laughing wickedly. She stood, wrapping her arms around me, her soft breasts pressing into my chest. Her lips grazed my cheek, her hot breath on my ear. “Don’t be so angry, Akash,” she whispered. “Pay me right, and you can fuck me any way you want—my pussy, my ass, my mouth, all yours.” Her sultry tone set me ablaze. I growled, “Fine, Shiuli, but tell Rita to keep her cock off my ass. I’m the top, you’re the bottoms. I fuck, I don’t get fucked!” Rita laughed, “Alright, alright, don’t get mad. I’ll take your cock.” She pulled back, her hands still caressing my ass.
Mili wrapped her arms around me, her soft body pressing close, her sweaty breasts rubbing my skin. “Akash, we’re here to have fun,” she whispered. “You don’t have to pay if you don’t want. I get it, your life’s been tough. Ours aren’t easy either. Can’t we just be friends?” Her words softened my heart. Rita stepped closer, smiling. “Mili’s right, Akash. Let’s have fun all night, ease your pain. Forget the money.” Shiuli grinned, “Everything’s fine, but I still need my cash!” I laughed, their words lightening the mood. “Alright, Shiuli, you’ll get your money. But tonight, I’m fucking all three of you senseless.” Their laughter and sultry banter heated the room further.
Their warmth melted my defenses. Rita, now fully naked, pressed her breasts and cock against my ass, the hot friction sending shivers through me. Shiuli and Mili stood before me, their breasts rubbing against me through their clothes. Rita said, “Akash, don’t worry. We’ll cover the cost. Tonight, we’ll have fun and share our joys and sorrows.” We collapsed onto the bed, their naked bodies grinding against mine, their musky sweat filling my nose. I began to pour out my life’s story.
“When I was a kid, my parents died, and I lived with my uncle and aunt. They treated me like shit—made me do chores, gave me scraps to eat, even hit me sometimes. I couldn’t take it and ran to the city. They never looked for me. After years of struggle, I’ve made it this far. Now I’m alone, but suddenly they’re back in my life. My uncle’s sick, Rima and Kakima are helpless, begging me to come to Halishahar. The roads are fucked, so I can’t go. I’m worried about them, but the pain they caused still burns. My mind’s a mess of restlessness and grief.” My eyes welled up as I spoke.
Rita took my hand. “Akash, check on them. No matter the hurt, they’re your family. Our lives are full of pain too. We sell our bodies on the streets, but we still have dreams. Be there for them.” Shiuli stroked my cheek. “We get your pain. Tonight, we’ll make you forget it.” Mili rested her head on my chest. “Akash, we’re your friends. Have fun with us, let the sorrow go.” Their words eased my heart. I smiled, “Alright, I’ll have fun with you all night.”
I turned to Rita. “Tonight, I’m sucking your cock until you lose your mind.” She grinned, wrapping her arms around me, her naked breasts pressing into my chest. Her lips met mine, her tongue diving in, tangling with mine. Her hand gripped my cock, stroking the tip, slick with precum. I moaned, “Rita, you’re driving me wild!” I lay back as she brought her cock to my face, hot and dripping. I took it in my mouth, the salty heat hitting my tongue. I sucked hard, her cock hitting my throat, wet slurping sounds filling the room. Rita moaned, “Akash, you’re sucking my cock dry! Harder!” I thrust it deeper, gagging as her taste overwhelmed me.
Shiuli began sucking my cock, her tongue swirling over the head, her hot lips clamping tight. I groaned, “Shiuli, you’re gonna finish me!” Her wet heat sent waves of pleasure through me. Mili lifted my legs, her tongue diving into my asshole, the hot, slick sensation making me scream, “Mili, you’re burning my ass!” Her tongue probed deeper, stroking my walls. My body shook, overwhelmed by their touches.
We stripped completely. Shiuli’s full breasts, Rita’s cock and balls, Mili’s thick ass—all bare before me. Mili lay face-down, her ass spread wide. “Akash, eat my ass,” she begged. I buried my face in her cheeks, her musky sweat filling my nose. My tongue licked her tight hole, its heat gripping me. Mili moaned, “Akash, deeper! Eat my ass!” Her body trembled as I licked harder. Rita and Shiuli joined, spitting on Mili’s asshole, making it slick. Rita guided my cock to Mili’s hole, and I slid in slowly. Her tight ass gripped me, and I groaned, “Mili, your ass is fucking perfect!” She moaned, “Akash, harder! Fuck my ass raw!” I pounded her, the slick friction driving me wild, wet sounds echoing with each thrust.
Shiuli sucked my balls, her tongue swirling, while Rita licked my ass again, her tongue probing deep. Mili’s ass clamped tight around my cock, pleasure surging through me. I fucked her harder, her moans echoing off the walls. “Akash, deeper! Tear my ass apart!” Shiuli moved to my cock, her saliva mixing with Mili’s ass juices. Rita’s tongue kept working my hole, driving me to the edge. The storm of their touches consumed me, my body trembling with raw, animalistic pleasure.