[novelistcasanova]

Daddy's Little Princess

By 

Novelist Casanova

Daddy's Little Princess 

The village nestled deep in the heart of Tamil Nadu like a living emerald dropped from the sky. Golden sunlight of late afternoon poured over endless fields of swaying sugarcane, their tall green stalks whispering secrets to the breeze. Paddy fields stretched in neat rectangles, shimmering with water mirrors that caught every passing cloud, young rice plants standing bright and tender in the mud. Coconut groves rose tall on the edges, fronds heavy with clusters of nuts, swaying gently as if nodding to the rhythm of village life. Mango orchards stood proud nearby, branches loaded with ripening fruit that glowed orange-red against dark leaves. Banana plantations hugged the low-lying areas, broad leaves unfurling like green flags, bunches hanging heavy and full. Drumstick trees lined the narrow paths, long pods dangling like green fingers pointing toward the horizon. Tamarind trees spread wide canopies, their sour pods already turning brown, while neem trees stood sentinel with delicate leaves filtering the light into dappled patterns on the red earth below.

A small river wound through the village outskirts, its clear water gurgling over smooth stones, reflecting the deepening orange of the evening sky. Kingfishers flashed blue along the banks, diving for silver fish. Peacocks called from distant thickets, their cries sharp and proud. The air carried the rich smell of wet earth, ripe fruit, blooming jasmine from roadside bushes, and the distant smoke of cow dung fires starting for evening meals.
At the very center of this fertile paradise stood the grand Lord Murugan Temple, its towering gopuram carved with intricate stories of gods and warriors, painted in vivid reds, blues, and golds that caught the last rays of sun and burned like fire against the sky. The temple walls gleamed whitewashed, cool stone steps leading up to the sanctum where lamps already flickered inside. Bells hung silent now, waiting for evening puja.
Right beside the temple, sharing the same sacred compound, rose the enormous Kalyana Mantapam built for divine unions and human ones alike. Its massive structure commanded the eye even from far across the fields. Tall white pillars lined the front, each one carved with dancing figures, lotus motifs, and mythical beasts, rising to support a wide sloping roof tiled in deep red. The entrance arch soared high, framed by two giant stone elephants trumpeting silently toward the heavens, their trunks curled upward in blessing. Ornate brass lamps hung from chains along the veranda, unlit yet but ready to blaze gold when night fell. Marble steps, cool and wide, led up to the main hall, flanked by rows of banana trees planted fresh for the coming wedding, their leaves tied with yellow turmeric threads. Torches stood ready along the outer walls, promising to turn the entire mantapam into a glowing palace once darkness settled.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in strokes of crimson, saffron, and deep violet, the Kalyana Mantapam stood bathed in that final warm glow. Shadows lengthened across its grand facade, turning the carved pillars golden, the red roof tiles almost liquid fire. The air grew cooler, carrying the promise of night, of rituals, of secrets yet to unfold within those sacred walls.
The village held its breath in that perfect evening hush.




Outside the grand entrance of the Kalyana Mantapam, a massive board stood proud on tall wooden stands wrapped in fresh banana leaves and strings of marigold. Bold letters in bright gold paint declared Rajesh Weds Sudha in both Tamil and English, the names shining under the last orange light of the setting sun. Below the names, tomorrow's date glowed large and clear, promising the sacred union tomorrow morning at eight. Jasmine garlands dbangd thick around the edges of the board, white and yellow flowers woven tight, releasing their heavy sweet perfume into the cooling evening air. Small electric bulbs framed the board, still unlit but ready to sparkle white and gold once full darkness arrived.
Inside the vast main hall of the Kalyana Mantapam, the air buzzed with low voices, laughter, and the soft clink of metal bangles. Long rows of white plastic chairs stood arranged facing the raised mandap stage, where a small altar already held brass lamps, turmeric paste, kumkum, and fresh coconuts waiting for tomorrow's rituals. Ceiling fans spun slow overhead, stirring the warm air scented with incense, camphor, and the faint sweetness of sandalwood paste.
Men filled one side of the hall, all Tamil men of the village and nearby towns, dressed in crisp white dhotis wrapped neatly around their waists and white shirts buttoned high. Some older men wore their dhotis tucked high, sleeves rolled up, gold chains glinting at their necks as they spoke in deep voices about land, crops, and the groom's family prestige. Younger men stood in small groups, white dhotis hugging their hips, shirts open at the collar, eyes darting often toward the women's side with quiet hunger.
On the other side, married women gathered in bright clusters, their sarees dbangd with perfect grace over full, ripe bodies. Their boobs pushed heavy and round against tight blouses, nipples sometimes poking hard over the blouse when they moved or laughed. Low-tied sarees revealed deep navels glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the warm evening, pallu slipping deliberately low to show the soft dip of waist and the beginning swell of hips. Their ass cheeks swayed full and firm under the saree folds as they walked, panty lines clearly visible over their ass cheeks over the saree when they turned. Faces carried that homely beauty, large expressive eyes lined with kohl, full lips painted red, cheeks rounded with a natural glow, yet their bodies screamed raw sensuality, thick thighs rubbing together under the petticoat, mangalsutra pendants swinging between deep cleavage as they bent to adjust saree pallu or whisper gossip. Every gesture teased, every laugh made boobs jiggle softly inside blouses, drawing stolen glances from the men.
Among them moved the unmarried girls, young and bold in their half sarees, the short saree pallu barely covering their boobs, leaving midriffs completely bare to show tight flat stomachs and tempting navels. Their blouses hugged small but perky boobs, nipples poking sharp over the blouse fabric whenever a cool breeze slipped through the hall. Half sarees tied low on hips revealed the top edges of panties peeking just above the petticoat knot, panty lines sharp over their firm ass cheeks over the half saree as they swayed past groups of young men. Long hair braided with jasmine flowers swung down their backs, hips rolling deliberately as they walked, thighs flashing smooth and toned beneath the short hem. They giggled among themselves, eyes sparkling with mischief, bending forward to pick up fallen flowers or adjust anklets, letting boobs strain forward over low blouse necklines, teasing the boys who pretended not to stare but whose eyes followed every jiggle of ass cheeks and bounce of boobs. Their laughter rang clear and tempting, bodies moving like invitations, promising everything while giving nothing yet.
The hall pulsed with that electric undercurrent of anticipation, bodies close, scents mixing, eyes meeting and sliding away, everyone waiting for the night to deepen and tomorrow's rituals to begin.




As the last sliver of sun disappeared behind the coconut groves, the grand hall of the Kalyana Mantapam slowly quieted. Ceiling fans continued their lazy circles, pushing warm air across rows of white plastic chairs now half-empty. The sharp smell of incense lingered, mixing with the growing odor of arrack and beedi smoke drifting from the men's side.
Old women claimed corners near the walls, spreading thin mats on the cool marble floor. They sat cross-legged in their faded sarees, pallu tucked firmly over shoulders, mangalsutra resting heavy between boobs that sagged softly inside old blouses. Their voices dropped to low murmurs, gossiping about family alliances, tomorrow's muhurtham timing, and which relative brought the best sweets. Some pulled grandchildren onto their laps, rocking them gently until small heads drooped against wrinkled shoulders. Children curled up soon after, tiny bodies wrapped in shawls, breathing slow and even as sleep took them.
Married women drifted apart from their earlier lively groups. A few still stood chatting in low tones, boobs rising and falling under tight blouses, navels exposed deep and round below low-tied sarees. Others found places to sit on the floor or on spare chairs pushed against pillars. They adjusted saree pallu to cover more modestly now, though panty lines still showed clearly over ass cheeks over the saree when they shifted weight from one hip to the other. Some leaned back against the wall, eyes half-closed, exhaustion from the day's preparations pulling at them. A young mother nursed her baby discreetly under the cover of her pallu, boob partially exposed as the child suckled, nipple dark and wet. Most eventually lay down on mats, sarees fanning out around them, hips curving softly, thighs pressed together under petticoats, falling into light sleep or quiet rest.
On the men's side the mood turned heavier, looser. Groups of men huddled around low wooden benches dragged into circles. Bottles of arrack passed from hand to hand, clear liquid glinting in the dim hall lights. They laughed loud at first, slapping thighs wrapped in white dhotis, white shirts untucked and sleeves rolled high. Cards snapped down on makeshift tables made from stacked chairs, bets whispered in quick Tamil. Smoke curled thick from beedis clenched between teeth, eyes growing red and glassy. As bottles emptied, voices slurred, laughter turned to yawns. One by one men slumped forward, heads dropping onto arms folded on tables, dhotis loosening at the waist. Some stretched out full length on the marble floor, white dhotis riding up to expose hairy thighs, snoring almost immediately from the mix of long day's tiredness and strong drink. Others leaned against pillars, eyes closed, mouths slack, bottles still gripped loosely in hands.
The hall settled into a deep, uneven hush. Only the slow whir of fans, occasional soft baby whimpers, distant snores from drunk men, and the quiet rustle of sarees when a woman shifted in sleep broke the stillness. Outside, crickets took over the night chorus, while inside the Kalyana Mantapam everyone waited, bodies relaxed, minds drifting toward tomorrow's dawn and the wedding that would bind two lives forever.



A narrow corridor led from the main hall to the bride’s room tucked at the far end of the Kalyana Mantapam. The door stood slightly ajar, letting only a thin line of dim corridor light spill inside. The room itself lay in near total darkness, lights switched off long ago. Thick curtains blocked the small window, trapping the warm night air heavy with the scent of jasmine from wilting garlands hung earlier on the walls and the sweet musk of sleeping girls.
My friends, the unmarried girls from the village and nearby houses, had claimed the bride’s room for the night. Mats and thin blankets spread across the cool tiled floor. They lay in a loose circle, half sarees already rumpled from tossing and turning. A few snored softly, chests rising slow under short blouses, but most stayed awake, voices dropping to husky whispers in the dark.
"Shh… listen, that Ramesh from the next street… his cock must be so thick," one girl murmured, voice thick with lust. "I saw him lift sacks at the market last week. His arms bulged, and I kept imagining him shoving that cock deep inside my pussy until I scream."
She giggled low, then tugged her half saree skirt higher along her thighs, bunching the material at her hips. Her petticoat followed, pushed up in folds until the white edge of her panties showed in the dim light sneaking under the door. Fingers slid under the waistband of her panties, pushing the cotton down just enough to expose her pussy lips. She spread her thighs wider, knees falling apart on the mat. Two fingers rubbed slow circles over her clit, then dipped lower to glide along her slick pussy lips. Her breathing turned quick and shallow.
Another girl answered in a filthy whisper. "Forget Ramesh. I want Kumar anna… the one who fixes bikes near the temple. His hands are so rough and black from grease. I dream about him grabbing my boobs, squeezing them hard over my blouse, then ripping my panties down and fucking my pussy from behind while I bend over his workbench. His balls slapping my ass cheeks every thrust."
She lifted her own half saree skirt high, petticoat dragged up to her navel. Panties tugged to the side, exposing her swollen pussy lips already glistening. She shoved two fingers straight inside her pussy, pumping slow at first, then faster. Her other hand grabbed her boob over the blouse, squeezing the soft mound, thumb rubbing her nipple until it poked sharp over the tight material. Juices coated her fingers, making wet sucking sounds in the quiet room as she fucked herself deeper.
"Mmm… yes… imagine Suresh… tall, dark, always staring at my ass cheeks when I walk past," a third girl breathed. "I want him to slap my ass cheeks red, spread them wide, then push his fat cock into my asshole while he rubs my clit. I would cum so hard my pussy would squirt all over his hand."
Her half saree skirt bunched at her waist now, petticoat shoved high. Panties peeled down her thighs to her knees. She spread her pussy lips wide with two fingers, middle finger circling her clit fast while her other hand pinched her nipple over the blouse. Hips bucked up off the mat, ass cheeks clenching as she rubbed harder, pussy making sloppy wet noises. Sweat beaded on her exposed navel, trickling down toward her busy fingers.
The whispers grew filthier, voices overlapping in the dark. "I need Vikram to crush my boobs in his big hands, bite my nipples until they hurt so good, then ram his cock so deep in my pussy his balls kiss my asshole." Fingers plunged faster inside pussies, clits rubbed raw, boobs squeezed and pinched over blouses. Panties dangled from spread thighs, half saree skirts and petticoats rucked up shamelessly, pussy lips swollen and dripping, the room filling with the raw, slick sounds of girls masturbating to their secret crushes.
One by one their breaths hitched higher, bodies trembling on the mats, fingers working frantically inside pussies and over clits, chasing release in the thick, aroused darkness of the bride’s room while the rest of the Kalyana Mantapam slept on.



After the girls in the bride’s room reached their peaks one by one in the darkness, their fingers plunged faster inside slick pussy lips, clits rubbed raw until bodies arched off the mats. Soft gasps turned to muffled moans, thighs quivering as juices leaked down to wet ass cheeks and soaked panties bunched at knees. After the last shudder, they collapsed, breaths slowing, half sarees still rucked up, panties tugged haphazardly back into place or left dangling. Soon the room filled only with even breathing and light snores, the girls fallen into peaceful, sated sleep on their scattered mats.
In the next room, my parents had settled long ago. Appa lay on a cot in his white dhoti and white shirt, snoring deeply after the day’s arrangements. Amma curled beside him on a mat, saree pallu pulled over her shoulder, mangalsutra resting between her boobs, her breathing steady and calm. The small lamp they kept burning for the night cast a low warm glow over their peaceful forms before Amma reached up and switched it off, plunging their room into quiet dark.
But inside the bride’s room, I lay flat on the narrow bed prepared for me, completely unsettled, heart hammering loud enough I feared it would wake the sleeping girls around me. My yellow saree dbangd over my body, saree pallu slipped slightly to one side, yellow blouse hugging my boobs tight with front hooks done up neatly. The yellow petticoat tied low on my hips pressed against my lower belly. Underneath, my white bra cupped my boobs firmly, white bra straps digging slight lines into my shoulders, white bra cups squeezing my boobs so every breath made nipples rub against the inside of the white bra, turning them harder and more sensitive with each restless shift. My maroon panties hugged my pussy and ass cheeks snug, the maroon panties waistband sitting just below my navel. Tension coiled deep in my belly, making my pussy lips throb softly inside the maroon panties, a slow slickness building between my pussy lips, soaking the crotch of my maroon panties until the maroon panties grew damp and warm against my clit. Every small movement of my thighs rubbed my pussy lips together over the wet maroon panties, sending tiny jolts up my spine, my clit swelling and pulsing with forbidden anticipation. My nipples poked hard over the yellow blouse, straining against the white bra cups, aching for touch I refused to give myself. Sweat gathered in my navel, trickled down toward the low knot of my yellow petticoat, mixing with the growing wetness seeping from my pussy into my maroon panties. Guilt twisted sharp in my chest, love for Arjun burned hotter, fear of tomorrow’s wedding clashed with the desperate need to run. My hips shifted involuntarily, ass cheeks clenching inside the maroon panties, pussy clenching empty and needy, juices leaking more until the maroon panties clung wetly to my pussy lips and clit.
Arjun waited far beyond the village, hidden on the highway in his friend’s old car, engine off, lights dimmed, heart probably racing as fast as mine. His friends, two loyal boys from our circle, crouched just outside the Kalyana Mantapam walls in the shadows of banana trees, ready to guide me through the sugarcane fields the moment I slipped out. They checked their watches by moonlight, whispered plans, waited for my signal or my sudden appearance.
I stared at the dark ceiling, counting slow breaths, willing the last sounds in the mantapam to fade completely. Every snore from the hall, every creak of the old building, felt like an eternity. My boobs rose and fell fast under the yellow blouse, nipples rubbing mercilessly inside the white bra, pussy throbbing wet inside maroon panties, body alive with restless fire while my mind screamed only one thought: soon, very soon, I would run to him.




I could not wait any longer in the suffocating dark. My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my thighs. Slowly I reached for the small switch beside the bed and flicked it on. A single low-watt bulb glowed yellow overhead, casting soft shadows across the scattered mats and sleeping girls.
All my friends lay sprawled in deep, exhausted sleep after their secret pleasures. Their half sarees remained hiked high, skirts bunched and twisted above their waists. Petticoats stayed pushed up in messy folds, exposing smooth thighs, panties, pussy lips, ass cheeks, and assholes in shameless abandon. Hands rested in different states: some still tucked inside panties, fingers curled loosely against pussy lips, others fallen out to the side, glistening with dried juices.
The girl closest to me, Priya, slept on her back with legs spread wide. Her half saree skirt and petticoat rode up past her navel, pink panties tugged down to mid-thigh, leaving her pussy lips fully exposed. The outer pussy lips lay parted slightly in sleep, inner pussy lips dark pink and slick, clit peeking swollen at the top. Dried juices streaked her full, rounded thighs, inner sides shiny under the bulb light. One hand stayed inside the lowered pink panties, middle finger still nestled between her pussy lips.
Next to her, Lakshmi lay curled on her side, facing away. Her blue half saree and petticoat bunched at her hips, white panties pulled halfway down her thighs, exposing her ass cheeks completely. The round, firm ass cheeks parted just enough to show her tight asshole and the lower edge of her pussy lips glistening below. Her long, toned thighs pressed together, trapping the white panties in a twisted roll, wet crotch darkened and sticky. Her hand had fallen out beside her hip, fingertips still glossy.
Meena slept flat on her stomach, face turned to the side, mouth slightly open. Her green half saree skirt and petticoat twisted high above her waist, green panties dragged down to her knees, leaving both ass cheeks fully bare. The plump ass cheeks spread naturally in sleep, revealing her tight asshole and her pussy lips visible from behind, swollen and wet with juices that had leaked down the insides of her slim, muscular thighs in shiny trails. Both hands rested outside her green panties, palms up, fingers curled.
Saranya had rolled onto her back with knees bent and feet flat on the mat, legs fallen open even wider. Her red half saree and petticoat stayed rucked above her waist, red panties tugged completely off one ankle and dangling from the other, her pussy fully on display. The outer pussy lips gaped open slightly, inner pussy lips dark and puffy, clit erect and shiny, a pool of dried cum smeared across her thick thighs in sticky streaks. Her thighs quivered faintly with each deep breath.
Divya lay on her tummy hugging a pillow, half saree skirt and petticoat pushed up carelessly to her lower back. Yellow panties pulled down to her mid-thighs, exposing her entire ass cheeks and her asshole. The firm, rounded ass cheeks parted in sleep, showing her tight asshole and the lower part of her pussy lips peeking from underneath, still glistening. Her slender, smooth thighs spread slightly, yellow panties twisted around them, the soaked crotch darkened to deep gold where it had pressed against her pussy lips and clit earlier. Her hand rested on her lower back, fingers shiny.
Every girl breathed slow and even now, bodies relaxed in post-orgasm peace, half sarees and petticoats still raised shamelessly, panties of pink, white, green, red, yellow either pulled down to thighs or ankles or tugged aside, pussy lips, clits, ass cheeks, and assholes exposed in raw, filthy detail, thighs streaked with dried juices, evidence of their frantic rubbing and whispered lusts laid bare under the dim bulb.
I watched for a long moment, my own maroon panties growing even damper between my thighs from the sight, pussy lips throbbing harder inside the wet maroon panties. Then, certain no one would stir, I slipped off the bed. Bare feet silent on the cool tiles, I tiptoed past the sleeping circle, careful not to brush any mat or kick a stray anklet. At the door I paused once more, listening to their soft snores, then eased the door open just enough to slide through. I closed it behind me with the softest click and stepped into the dim corridor, pulse racing, ready to run toward the waiting shadows outside the Kalyana Mantapam.


The corridor stretched long and narrow, lit only by a few weak bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Marble floor cold under my bare feet. I moved slow, placing each step with care, toes first then heel, so no sound echoed back to the sleeping hall. My yellow saree rustled only slightly with each careful movement, saree pallu tucked tight over my shoulder to keep it from slipping. My maroon panties crotch stayed damp, pussy lips still throbbing from the sight of the girls and from the fear pulsing through me.
I reached the wide stone staircase at the end of the corridor. Steps wide enough for three people side by side. I climbed them one by one, hand sliding along the smooth railing, breath held tight in my chest so my boobs barely moved inside the yellow blouse. At the top the terrace opened vast and open to the night sky.
The terrace covered the entire roof of the Kalyana Mantapam, a huge flat expanse of red oxide floor tiled in neat squares. Low pabangt walls ran around all four sides, carved with simple lotus patterns, painted white and glowing under the moonlight. Potted jasmine plants stood in rows along the edges, flowers closed for the night but still releasing heavy perfume. A few plastic chairs scattered here and there from earlier evening gatherings. In one corner a small water tank stood on brick legs, metal tap dripping slow into a bucket below. The whole space felt empty and exposed, wind cool against my face and arms, carrying distant sounds of crickets and the low hum of the village settling into sleep.
At the far end, away from the staircase, a small room rose like a separate box on the terrace. The room was simple, built of the same whitewashed stone as the mantapam walls, with a flat concrete roof and a single wooden door painted green. One small window faced the terrace, shutter closed but slats loose enough to let thin lines of moonlight slip inside. The room had been used for storing puja items earlier in the day, but now it stood quiet, door slightly ajar as if someone had stepped out for air.
I needed to reach the pabangt wall nearest the highway side to flash the small torch I carried tucked in my saree pallu, the signal for Arjun's friends waiting below in the shadows. My thighs rubbed together as I walked, maroon panties shifting against my pussy lips, keeping the dampness fresh and warm. Every few steps I paused, ears straining for any sound other than the wind. My heart slammed against my ribs, making nipples poke harder over the yellow blouse.
Halfway across the terrace, movement caught my eye. The green door of the small room creaked wider. A tall figure stepped out into the moonlight.
Rajesh, my fiancé, stood there in his white shirt and black trousers, sleeves rolled to elbows, top button open. His hair neat, face calm but eyes sharp in the dim light. He had come up here alone, perhaps to breathe or think before tomorrow's rituals. He saw me immediately, frozen mid-step in my yellow saree, torch hidden in my fist.
Our eyes locked across the wide terrace. No words yet. Only the night wind and the distant village dogs barking far away.
I swallowed hard. My fingers tightened around the torch in my saree pallu. I forced one more step forward, pretending I had come up for air, for a last look at the stars before the wedding dawn. But my legs felt heavy, knees weak. Rajesh did not move at first. He just watched me, head tilted slightly, like he was piecing something together.
Then he took a slow step toward me. Another. His footsteps deliberate on the red oxide floor, each one echoing louder in my ears than the last. I backed up half a step, yellow saree catching on my heel. My breath came short, boobs rising fast under the yellow blouse, nipples rubbing against the white bra cups with every quick inhale.
"Sudha," he said quietly, voice low and even, carrying across the open space. "What are you doing up here alone at this hour?"
I opened my mouth but no sound came. My mind raced. The torch burned against my palm like fire. Arjun's friends waited below, hidden among the banana trees, eyes on the parap3t wall for my signal. One flash, and they would know to meet me at the edge of the sugarcane. One flash, and I could still run.
Rajesh kept walking closer. Ten steps away now. Eight. His eyes flicked to my hand, still hidden in the saree pallu, then back to my face. Something shifted in his expression, a subtle tightening around his mouth.
"You look... nervous," he said, stopping five steps from me. "Like you're waiting for something. Or someone."
My thighs clenched together, maroon panties pressing damp against my pussy lips. Sweat trickled down my navel under the yellow petticoat. I could smell the jasmine from the pots, sharp and cloying, mixing with the faint tobacco scent from Rajesh's shirt. My pulse thundered in my ears. If he took two more steps, he would see the torch outline in my fist. If he asked to see my hand, everything would end.
"I just... needed air," I managed, voice barely above a whisper. "The room was too hot. The girls are sleeping."
He nodded once, slow. But he did not smile. His gaze dropped to my hips, then lower, as if reading every tremble in my body. The wind lifted the edge of my saree pallu for a second, exposing the low tie of my yellow petticoat. I grabbed it quickly, pulling it back.
Rajesh took one more step. Three steps away now. Close enough that I could see the moonlight catch in his eyes, dark and unreadable.
"You were going to the parap3t wall," he said, not a question. "To look toward the highway."
My stomach dropped. He had seen me walking that way. He had been watching from the small room window. Suspense coiled tight in my chest, squeezing my boobs against the yellow blouse. One wrong word, one sudden move, and he could grab my wrist, pull the torch free, understand everything.
The terrace felt smaller suddenly, the open sky pressing down. No escape except past him, down the stairs, back to the sleeping hall. Or forward, to the pabangt, risking him following. My pussy lips pulsed inside the maroon panties, fear and forbidden thrill twisting together.
Rajesh waited. Silent now. Watching. Waiting for me to speak, to lie, to run.
The night held its breath with us.


Rajesh closed the last three steps between us in one smooth motion. His arms opened wide, then wrapped around my waist over the yellow saree, pulling me into his complete embrace. My chest crushed against his through the yellow blouse and his white shirt, the sudden contact sending a jolt through me. He hugged me tight, one hand sliding up my back to rest between my shoulder blades, the other pressing firm at the small of my back, fingers splaying over the low knot of my yellow petticoat.
I stiffened at first, torch still clenched in my fist hidden between our bodies. My maroon panties crotch pressed against his thigh through the saree layers, the damp pussy lips throbbing harder from the pressure. My breath caught, shallow and quick.
He lowered his head, lips brushing my ear. "Sudha," he whispered, voice low and thick with emotion. "You are so beautiful tonight. This yellow saree on you... the way it dr@93s over your hips, your navel showing deep above the petticoat knot... I cannot take my eyes off you."
His arms tightened, hugging me closer until no space remained. My thighs parted slightly from the force, pussy lips rubbing against the seam of my maroon panties. He lifted one hand to cup the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, tilting my head so my face rested against his shoulder.
"I cannot wait for tomorrow morning," he continued, voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. "When I tie the mangalsutra around your neck, make you my wife in front of everyone. You will be mine completely. My wife. My Sudha."
His words sank into me like hot oil. Guilt stabbed sharp in my chest, mixing with the forbidden thrill of his body against mine. The torch dug into my palm, a reminder of Arjun waiting below, of the signal I had not yet given. My arms stayed limp at my sides for a long moment, then slowly, hesitantly, I lifted them. My hands rose to his shoulders, then wrapped around his neck, fingers linking at the nape. The movement pulled my body even tighter against him.
He exhaled against my hair, a low sound of satisfaction. "Yes... like that. Hold me, Sudha. Feel how much I want you."
His hand slid lower, palm cupping one ass cheek over the saree, squeezing gently but firmly. My ass cheeks clenched inside the maroon panties, pussy lips parting slightly from the motion, fresh slickness leaking into the cotton crotch. The terrace wind blew cooler now, lifting the edge of my saree pallu again, exposing more of my waist. He did not let go. Instead he hugged me tighter, rocking us slowly side to side, as if we were already dancing at our own wedding.
"Tomorrow you will wear my mangalsutra," he murmured. "And every night after that, you will sleep in my arms. I will make you mine over and over."
My heart hammered against his chest. The torch slipped slightly in my sweaty palm. Arjun's friends still waited below, eyes on the pabangt. One flash, and everything changed. But Rajesh held me so completely, arms locked, body warm and solid, words wrapping around me like another embrace. Suspense thickened the air between us. My arms stayed around his neck, fingers trembling. I did not pull away. Not yet.
The moonlight poured over us, turning the terrace silver, the small room behind him dark and waiting.

To Be Continued ..!!

[novelistcasanova]

Rajesh held me in his complete embrace, arms wrapped firm around my waist over the yellow saree, hugging my body close until my hips pressed against his. His hand slid lower still, palm grabbing one ass cheek gently over the saree, fingers spreading to squeeze the round flesh through the layers. He rubbed slow circles there, thumb gliding along the curve of my ass cheek, then lower, feeling the outline of my maroon panties over the saree. The panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the saree guided his touch, his fingers rubbing the edge where the maroon panties hugged my thighs.

My pussy lips throbbed harder inside the damp maroon panties from his touch, juices leaking fresh as guilt burned deeper in my chest. He grew horny, breath hot against my ear, his cock starting to harden against my belly through his black trousers and my yellow saree. But I felt only guilt, my arms around his neck loose and trembling, because my heart belonged to Arjun, waiting in the dark highway with his car, his love simple and true.
Yet more than that, shame twisted inside me for what I planned to do to Rajesh. This gentleman, this sophisticated advocate from Chennai, had dreamed of marrying me for two months, courting me with respect, waiting patiently for Appa's approval. If I eloped tonight, he would face shame tomorrow, his name whispered in disgrace among the village and beyond.
"Sudha," he murmured, voice husky now, hand still grabbing my ass cheek gently, rubbing the maroon panties line over the saree. "I have invited everyone important for tomorrow. Top politicians from Tamil Nadu, like the Chief Minister's advisor and the state assembly leaders, all coming to bless our union. Businessmen too, the heads of major corporations in Chennai and Mumbai, owners of textile empires and IT giants, flying in from abroad. Influential judges from the High Court, senior advocates from Delhi and London, even international clients from my cases in Singapore and Dubai. They all respect me, see me as the most influential advocate in the south, handling high-profile mergers and criminal defenses for the elite."
His words painted him as untouchable, a man of power and grace, his hand squeezing my ass cheek a little firmer now, thumb pushing against the maroon panties crotch over the saree, close to where my pussy lips ached. He felt even hornier, cock now fully hard, pushing against my navel through the clothes. "They will all be here to see me tie the mangalsutra on you, to celebrate us. You will make me the happiest man."
Guilt flooded me stronger, tears pricking my eyes. I hugged him tighter around the neck, fingers clenching in his hair, but my mind screamed for Arjun. How could I shame this man, leave him standing alone at the mandap, whispers spreading among those dignitaries that the bride ran away? His reputation shattered, dreams crushed after waiting so long for me. My ass cheeks clenched under his grabbing hand, pussy lips slicker inside the maroon panties, body betraying me with unwanted arousal while my heart broke from the weight of betrayal.
He rubbed my ass cheeks slower, pulling me even closer, our bodies locked in the moonlight.


Rajesh hugged me in his complete embrace, arms wrapped firm around my waist over the yellow saree, embracing my body close until my hips pressed against his. His hand slid lower still, palm grabbing one ass cheek gently over the saree, fingers spreading to squeeze my ass cheek through the layers. He rubbed slow circles there, thumb gliding along my ass cheek, then lower, feeling the outline of my maroon panties over the saree. The panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the saree guided his touch, his fingers rubbing the edge where the maroon panties hugged my thighs.
My boobs crushed soft against his chest, the full boobs yielding warmly to the hard plane of his chest, sensitive nipples rubbing with every shared breath, sparks traveling from the nipples through my white bra cups and into my core as the yellow blouse shifted slightly. My pussy lips throbbed harder inside the damp maroon panties from his touch, juices leaking fresh as guilt burned deeper in my chest. He grew horny, breath hot against my ear, his cock starting to harden against my belly through his black trousers and my yellow saree. But I felt only guilt, my arms around his neck loose and trembling, because my heart belonged to Arjun, waiting in the dark highway with his car, his love simple and true.
Yet more than that, shame twisted inside me for what I planned to do to Rajesh. This gentleman, this sophisticated advocate from Chennai, had dreamed of marrying me for two months, courting me with respect, waiting patiently for the day to come. If I eloped tonight, he would face shame tomorrow, his name whispered in disgrace among the village and beyond.
"Sudha," he murmured, voice husky yet gentle, hand still grabbing my ass cheek softly, rubbing the maroon panties line over the saree. "I love the way your chest feels against mine, so full and warm, pressing so perfectly to me with every breath we share, like we belong this close forever."
His words described the sensation so gentlemanly, yet they painted the erotic detail in my mind: my boobs crushed soft and yielding against his hard chest, the rounded boobs giving under the pressure, sensitive nipples rubbing with each inhale, sending tiny sparks through my body as the white bra cups shifted slightly inside the yellow blouse.
He squeezed my ass cheek a little firmer, fingers digging gentle but insistent into my ass cheek, kneading my ass cheek until my ass cheeks quivered in his palm, the heat from his hand seeping through the saree and maroon panties, making my asshole clench tight between them, my ass cheeks softening and warming under his possessive grip, every subtle squeeze sending ripples up my thighs to my pussy lips.
"From tomorrow, all this will be mine," he whispered, voice gentle and reverent, as if speaking of a sacred promise, his hand rubbing my ass cheeks in slow, possessive strokes.
"I am going to make you rich, Sudha, change your life completely," he continued, other hand sliding up to rub my back over the yellow blouse. "My homes in Chennai, the grand villa in Anna Nagar with marble floors and ocean views, the penthouse in Nungambakkam overlooking the city lights, they will all be yours. The bungalow in Bangalore in Koramangala and Indira Nagar, with gardens and pools, waiting for us to fill with our life. My businesses too, the law firm in Chennai handling crores in cases, branches in Bangalore dealing with tech giants and real estate empires, all the wealth from international clients and investments, it becomes ours. You will want for nothing, my love. I will give you everything."
His cock pushed harder against me now, full and throbbing, while his hand kept grabbing my ass cheeks, fingers tracing the maroon panties seams over the saree, the erotic grip making my ass cheeks feel owned, my ass cheeks warming and softening under his touch, every squeeze sending ripples up my thighs to my pussy lips.
Guilt drowned me deeper. How could I not hug him fully, my arms tightening only halfway around his neck, when Arjun's face flashed in my mind? But worse, the pain I would cause Rajesh, this kind man who had waited two months, dreaming of me as his bride, only to wake tomorrow to an empty mandap, his dignity stripped in front of family and friends. Tears welled hot in my eyes as he embraced me, his embrace so tender yet horny, my body responding against my will.
The terrace wind whispered around us, the small room's door creaking slightly open behind him, the night growing heavier with every second I stayed locked in his arms.


Rajesh kept me embraced in his arms, his chest warm against my boobs, his hand still grabbing my ass cheek gently over the yellow saree. He rubbed my ass cheek slowly, thumb circling the panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the saree, fingers squeezing the round ass cheek in soft, possessive pulses that made my ass cheeks quiver and my pussy lips pulse inside the damp maroon panties.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze soft yet intense in the moonlight. "Sudha, come inside with me," he said quietly, voice calm and inviting. "I have made this small room my temporary advocate office for the night. Some papers to review before tomorrow. Let us have tea together. Just you and me."
He took my hand in his left hand, fingers interlacing with mine, while his right hand stayed on my ass cheek over the saree, palm flat and firm, squeezing my ass cheek gently as we turned toward the small room. We walked slowly across the terrace, his right hand never leaving my ass cheek, fingers kneading the plump ass cheek with every step, thumb rubbing along the maroon panties seam over the saree, pushing slight pressure into the space between my ass cheeks so my asshole clenched tight and my pussy lips rubbed together inside the wet maroon panties. Each squeeze sent fresh ripples through my ass cheeks, the round ass cheeks warming under his palm, the plump mounds shifting and softening in his grip, every subtle grab making my thighs tremble and my navel tighten under the low petticoat knot.
I glanced back over my shoulder as we walked. Under the banana trees near the mantapam wall, Arjun's two friends crouched in the shadows, faces turned up toward the terrace, waiting for my torch signal. Their eyes caught the moonlight for a second, wide and expectant. My heart twisted sharp. I was supposed to flash the light, run down the stairs, slip through the sugarcane to the highway, to Arjun. But Rajesh's hand on my ass cheek kept me anchored, squeezing gently with each step, fingers digging into my ass cheek in slow, erotic rhythm, making my ass cheeks feel claimed and my pussy lips leak more into the maroon panties.
Guilt flooded me hotter than his touch. Tears stung my eyes again. How could I walk away from him now, this gentle man who wanted me so completely, only to leave him shamed tomorrow? My boobs rose and fell fast against his side, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from nerves and unwanted arousal. My thighs rubbed together with each step, maroon panties crotch slick against my pussy lips.
We reached the green door of the small room. Rajesh pushed it open with his left hand, still holding mine, his right hand squeezing my ass cheek one last time before guiding me inside. The room smelled of old wood and faint sandalwood from puja items stacked in the corner. A narrow cot stood against one wall, thin mattress covered with a clean white sheet. A small table held a thermos of tea, two cups, and a few files. A single bulb hung low, casting warm yellow light.
He closed the door behind us with a soft click. His right hand stayed on my ass cheek over the saree, fingers giving one final gentle squeeze as he led me to the cot.
"Sit, Sudha," he said softly. "Let me pour you tea."
I sat on the edge of the cot, legs pressed together, maroon panties damp and clinging to my pussy lips, guilt choking me while Arjun's friends waited outside in the dark, wondering why no signal came.
The door stayed closed. The night deepened.


I took the cup, fingers trembling slightly, the hot porcelain warming my palms. My maroon panties crotch stayed damp against my pussy lips, thighs pressed tight on the cot edge, guilt churning in my belly. He sat beside me, close enough that his thigh touched mine over his black trousers and my yellow saree.
He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a sleek black box, opening it to reveal the most expensive cellphone in the market, the latest Vertu Signature Touch in pure gold and diamond accents, screen glowing with a custom wallpaper of a sunset over the Bay of Bengal. "This is for you," he said, placing it in my hand. "The finest one available, made just for special people. I want you to have it from tonight. Call anyone, anywhere, whenever you want."
My eyes widened. The phone felt heavy, luxurious, diamonds catching the bulb light in tiny sparks. I turned it over in my palm, impressed despite myself, the gold frame cool against my fingers. "Rajesh... this is too much," I whispered, voice catching.
He smiled gently and opened another compartment in the suitcase. Velvet pouches spilled out. He untied them one by one, revealing gold jewels that gleamed bright under the bulb: heavy gold bangles with ruby and emerald inlays, a long gold necklace with a large diamond pendant, matching earrings dripping with pearls and diamonds, a thick gold waist chain for low on my hips, intricate gold anklets with tiny bells, and a set of gold finger rings each set with different precious stones. He lifted the necklace first, holding it up so the pendant swung between us.
"These are all for you," he said, voice warm and proud. "The necklace to grace your neck, the bangles for your wrists, the waist chain to sit low on your hips, the anklets to sing with every step you take as my wife. I chose them thinking of how beautiful you will look wearing them every day."
The gold shone rich and pure, each piece heavier and more intricate than the last. I stared, impressed, heart pounding at the sheer wealth laid before me. My fingers brushed the necklace chain, the metal cool and smooth. For a moment, the guilt eased under the dazzle, the thought of owning such jewels tempting and overwhelming.
But the guilt rushed back stronger, sharper. I loved Arjun, wanted to spend my life with him in our simple village way, running through sugarcane fields, living on honest love. Yet here sat Rajesh, this gentleman, offering me the world with gentle hands and soft words, his eyes full of hope. Knowing I was going to disappoint him, shatter his dreams, leave him alone at the mandap tomorrow with all these jewels and promises unused, made shame burn hotter than any arousal. Tears pricked my eyes again. He was kind, patient, dreaming of me as his wife, and I would break him.
I clutched the cellphone tighter, the gold jewels sparkling between us, guilt choking my throat while Arjun's friends still waited outside in the shadows, wondering why I had not signaled.
The tea cooled in my cup. The small room felt smaller, the closed door heavier.

[novelistcasanova]

Rajesh set his teacup down and stood, offering his hand. "Come, Sudha," he said gently. "Let me see how these jewels look on you. There is a mirror here."

He led me to the full-length mirror propped against the wall opposite the cot. The small room's bulb reflected off the glass, making the gold jewels on the table sparkle brighter. He picked up the heavy gold necklace first, the large diamond pendant swinging from his fingers. Standing behind me, he dbangd the necklace around my neck over the yellow saree pallu, his hands brushing my shoulders as he fastened the clasp at the back. The cold gold chain rested against my navel area through the saree, the diamond pendant settling deep between my boobs over the yellow blouse.
Next he took the ruby and emerald inlaid gold bangles, sliding them one by one onto my wrists, the metal cool and heavy, clinking softly with every movement. He fastened the gold waist chain low on my hips over the yellow saree, the chain sitting just above the petticoat knot, hugging my hips tight. Then the diamond and pearl earrings, clipping them to my ears, the weight pulling slightly. Finally the gold anklets, kneeling to wrap them around my ankles, tiny bells tinkling as he secured them.
He stepped back behind me again, hands resting on my hips over the saree, both of us looking into the mirror. The gold jewels gleamed against the yellow saree, making me look royal and rich, like a queen in a palace. My boobs rose and fell under the yellow blouse, the diamond pendant nestled between them, bangles shining on my wrists, waist chain accentuating my hips, anklets catching light with every small shift of my thighs. I stared at my reflection, impressed, a rush of awe filling me at how luxurious and powerful I looked adorned like this.
But my heart stayed with Arjun, waiting in the old car on the highway, his simple love the only one I truly wanted. The jewels felt heavy, beautiful, but foreign. Guilt clawed deeper, knowing I would disappoint Rajesh, this gentleman who had chosen every piece with care, dreaming of me wearing them as his wife.
Rajesh moved closer behind me, his chest hugging my back. His hands slid up slowly, palms gliding over my ribs until they grabbed my boobs over the yellow blouse underneath my yellow saree pallu. His fingers squeezed my boobs firmly but tenderly, thumbs rubbing slow circles over my nipples through the blouse and white bra cups. The pressure made my boobs compress in his palms, nipples hardening instantly, poking sharp over the blouse as he kneaded the full boobs in gentle, rhythmic squeezes. Each grab sent electric jolts from my nipples down to my pussy lips, my boobs yielding and molding to the shape of his large hands, the rounded boobs giving under his fingers, sensitive tips rubbing against the white bra lining with every motion.
I could feel how much he wanted me, how much he lusted, his cock hard and throbbing against my lower back through his trousers, his breathing ragged against my ear, fingers squeezing my boobs with desperate tenderness, thumbs pinching my nipples lightly over the blouse, showing he needed to make me his wife, to own every part of me starting tonight.
But my heart belonged to Arjun. Tears filled my eyes looking at our reflection—me in royal jewels, his hands claiming my boobs, yet I felt only sorrow for Rajesh, this kind gentleman who had waited two months, poured his dreams and wealth into me, only to be left broken tomorrow when I disappeared. The guilt crushed me heavier than the gold on my body.
"You look perfect, Sudha," he whispered behind me, hands still squeezing my boobs over the blouse. "Tomorrow you will be my wife, wearing these every day."
My pussy lips pulsed inside the maroon panties, body betraying me while my soul cried for Arjun and pitied the man behind me.


Rajesh stood close behind me in front of the mirror, his chest hugging my back, hands still on my boobs over the yellow blouse underneath my yellow saree pallu. His palms squeezed my boobs gently, fingers spreading wide to cup the full boobs completely, thumbs rubbing slow, deliberate circles over my nipples through the blouse and white bra cups. Each squeeze made my boobs compress warmly in his hands, the rounded boobs yielding soft under his firm yet tender grip, sensitive nipples hardening sharper, poking hard over the blouse as he kneaded the boobs in rhythmic, gentlemanly pulses. The pressure sent jolts from my nipples straight down to my pussy lips, my boobs molding to the shape of his large palms, every subtle rub making the nipples throb against the white bra lining, the full boobs shifting and bouncing slightly with each breath I took.
I could feel how much he wanted me, how deeply he lusted, his cock rock hard and throbbing against my lower back through his black trousers, his breathing rough and hot against my ear, fingers squeezing my boobs with desperate yet controlled tenderness, thumbs circling my nipples in slow spirals, showing he needed to claim me, to make me his wife tonight and every night after.
Guilt stabbed me sharper than any pleasure. His hands on my boobs felt so gentle, so respectful, like he was honoring me even in his desire. He was a true gentleman, never forceful, never crude, only loving and patient. I hated that my body reacted—nipples aching under his thumbs, pussy lips pulsing wet inside the maroon panties, fresh slickness leaking from the unwanted arousal. I hated it deeply because I was loyal to Arjun, my heart and body belonged only to him, yet here I stood letting another man squeeze my boobs over the blouse, the betrayal burning in my chest.
More than anything, guilt crushed me for tomorrow. I knew I would hurt Rajesh badly, leave him at the mandap with empty promises, jewels, and dreams shattered. He had waited two months, treated me like a queen, and I would destroy him. The thought of his face when he realized I had run with Arjun made tears spill faster. I did not want to hurt this kind man now, not even by pulling away from his gentle hands on my boobs, because hurting him tonight would only make tomorrow's pain worse. Tension coiled so tight my thighs trembled, maroon panties crotch soaked against my pussy lips, body betraying me while my mind screamed to stop, to confess, to run.
"Do you like the gifts, Sudha?" he asked softly, voice low and warm, hands still squeezing my boobs over the blouse, thumbs rubbing my nipples in gentle, insistent circles. "The jewels, the phone... all for you."
"Yes," I whispered, voice trembling, eyes fixed on our reflection—me in sparkling gold necklace, bangles, waist chain, anklets, his hands claiming my boobs over the yellow blouse. The sight made my pussy lips pulse harder inside the maroon panties, body responding with unwanted slickness. But the words stuck in my throat. I struggled, lips parting then closing, chest heaving under his squeezing hands, boobs compressing again as he kneaded them tenderly. "Rajesh... I..."
The sentence died. My heart raced for Arjun, waiting on the highway, his simple face in my mind, his love the only one I truly wanted. I opened my mouth again, trying to force the truth out. "I need to tell you something..." My voice cracked, tears welling hot. Guilt choked me, words refusing to come. His thumbs rubbed my nipples slower, more possessive, making my boobs quiver in his palms, nipples aching under the white bra cups, body betraying me while my soul screamed for Arjun.
"Tell me, Sudha," he said gently, squeezing my boobs once more, fingers digging soft but firm into the full boobs, thumbs pressing my nipples lightly over the blouse. "Whatever it is, you can say it."
Tension coiled tight in my chest, my thighs clenching together, maroon panties crotch slick against my pussy lips. I wanted to confess I loved Arjun, that I planned to run, that this could not happen. But the words lodged like stones. "I... I cannot..." I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks, reflection blurring in the mirror. His hands kept squeezing my boobs in slow, loving rhythm, thumbs circling my nipples, showing his want, his lust, his dream of me as his wife.
The small room stayed quiet except for my shaky breaths, the soft clink of jewels, and the heavy silence of what I could not say.



Rajesh kept his hands on my boobs over the yellow blouse, squeezing the full boobs gently in slow, rhythmic pulses, thumbs rubbing my nipples through the blouse and white bra cups in tender circles. My nipples poked harder over the blouse, the rounded boobs compressing warmly in his palms with every squeeze, sparks shooting from the nipples down to my pussy lips inside the damp maroon panties. His touch stayed gentlemanly, never rough, only loving and patient, making my boobs yield soft under his fingers, the mounds shifting slightly as he kneaded them with care.
Guilt stabbed me sharper than any pleasure. His hands on my boobs felt so gentle, so respectful, like he was honoring me even in his desire. He was a true gentleman, never forceful, never crude, only loving and patient. I hated that my body reacted—nipples aching under his thumbs, pussy lips pulsing wet inside the maroon panties, fresh slickness leaking from the unwanted arousal. I hated it deeply because I was loyal to Arjun, my heart and body belonged only to him, yet here I stood letting another man squeeze my boobs over the blouse, the betrayal burning in my chest.
More than anything, guilt crushed me for tomorrow. I knew I would hurt Rajesh badly, leave him at the mandap with empty promises, jewels, and dreams shattered. He had waited two months, treated me like a queen, and I would destroy him. The thought of his face when he realized I had run with Arjun made tears spill faster. I did not want to hurt this kind man now, not even by pulling away from his gentle hands on my boobs, because hurting him tonight would only make tomorrow's pain worse. Tension coiled so tight my thighs trembled, maroon panties crotch soaked against my pussy lips, body betraying me while my mind screamed to stop, to confess, to run.
I swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper. "Rajesh... I should have told you the day you came to my house to seek my hand in marriage."
He stilled for a second, thumbs pausing on my nipples over the blouse. Then he squeezed my boobs once more, soft and reassuring. "Told me what, Sudha?" he asked gently, voice calm and open. He eased his hands down from my boobs, sliding them to take both my hands in his, fingers interlacing with mine. He turned me to face him, standing close, his chest almost touching my boobs again.
"Tell me openly," he said, holding my hands firm but tender, eyes locked on mine. "Open your heart to me. Share whatever it is. I love you, Sudha. I love you deeply. Whatever troubles you, I will help you. We will face it together."
His words hit like a blow. I love you. He said it so simply, so sincerely, his hands squeezing mine gently, thumbs rubbing the backs of my hands in soothing circles. The gentleman in him shone through—patient, kind, ready to carry my burden. Guilt flooded me hotter, tears spilling faster. I felt sick knowing I would destroy this man tomorrow, leave him alone with his love unreturned, his gifts unused, his dreams crushed. My heart pounded for Arjun, loyal and true, yet here I stood, hands in Rajesh's, his declaration of love wrapping around me like chains.
I struggled, mouth opening and closing, words refusing to form. "I... I..." My voice broke, chest heaving, boobs rising fast under the yellow blouse, nipples still hard from his earlier touch. Tension coiled tight in my chest, my thighs clenching together, maroon panties crotch slick against my pussy lips. I wanted to confess everything—Arjun, the plan to run, the love I carried for another—but the words lodged in my throat. "Rajesh, please... I cannot..."
He squeezed my hands tighter, not forceful, only supportive. "You can, Sudha. I am here. I love you. Let me help you."
The emotional conflict tore me apart. His love felt real, warm, undeserved. I did not want to hurt him now, not in this moment, yet I knew tomorrow would hurt him worse. My loyalty to Arjun burned fierce in my chest, yet guilt for Rajesh drowned me. Tears streamed down my face, body shaking in his gentle hold, the small room silent except for my choked breaths and the soft clink of gold jewels on my wrists.
How could I tell him the truth now?

[novelistcasanova]

Why some words are in BOLD ?

Xossoipy team has to look intto this, because everytime I post here, it gets autoformated and gets repeated, and the spelling chagges
.

[novelistcasanova]

My name is Sudha, a tender young woman with a body that drove every boy in college and the village wild with lust. My boobs stood full and heavy, pushing hard against my white college shirt, nipples often poking sharp over the shirt when I moved or the air turned cool. My ass cheeks jiggled firm and plump under my navy blue skirt, the short hem riding high on my thighs, showing long, toned legs that made boys stare openly. My hips swayed wide and seductive with every step, navel peeking deep and round whenever I raised my arms or stretched. My face held innocent beauty—large dark eyes lined with natural kohl, full red lips always slightly parted, cheeks flushed pink—but my body radiated raw sex appeal, boobs bouncing softly in my shirt, ass cheeks rolling under the skirt, thighs rubbing together with every walk. All the boys in college lusted after me shamelessly, whispering filthy fantasies when I passed, eyes glued to my boobs or my ass cheeks jiggling under the navy blue skirt.

Me and my three best friends were the last bench girls in college, always sitting together at the back of the classroom. We wore the same white shirt and navy blue skirt college uniform, but on us it looked downright sinful. My shirt hugged my boobs tight, top two buttons often left open so deep cleavage showed, nipples poking hard over the shirt whenever I leaned forward to write or laugh. My navy blue skirt sat low on my hips, hem barely covering the top of my thighs, panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the skirt when I bent or sat with legs crossed. When I shifted in my seat, the skirt rode up higher, giving accidental upskirts that showed the edge of my maroon panties peeking out, the cotton crotch sometimes visible for a second when my thighs parted. My white bra straps showed over my shoulders under the shirt, the bra cups pushing my boobs high and round, nipples dark and hard over the shirt when I got excited or cold.
My friends were no different, each one hot and teasing in her own way. Priya's boobs strained against her white shirt, nipples always visible poking over the shirt, her ass cheeks round and firm under her navy blue skirt, jiggling with every step. When she crossed her legs, her skirt hiked up, showing upskirts of her pink panties, the crotch damp sometimes from the heat or her thoughts. Lakshmi kept her shirt tucked tight, making her boobs push forward, navel exposed deep when she stretched, her thighs thick and smooth under the short navy blue skirt, upskirts revealing her black panties clinging to her pussy lips. Meena's ass cheeks rolled provocatively under her navy blue skirt, panty line sharp over her ass cheeks over the skirt, her boobs bouncing freely in her white shirt, nipples hard and dark over the material, upskirts flashing her white panties whenever she stood or bent.
We sat at the last bench, legs spread slightly under the desk, skirts riding up our thighs, shirts straining over our boobs, laughing and whispering dirty secrets while boys turned around constantly, eyes hungry on our boobs, ass cheeks, and the occasional panty peeks from our upskirts. Our teenage bras showed straps and outlines under our shirts, cups hugging our boobs tight, nipples poking whenever we got playful or the classroom air turned cool. The teachers pretended not to notice, but everyone knew we were the hottest girls in college, bodies built for lust, uniforms barely containing our sex appeal.



I just loved how hot I was getting every day in college, the constant stares on my boobs and ass cheeks making my pussy lips tingle inside my white panties under the navy blue skirt. Whenever my parents went out to the fields or market, I rushed home alone, heart racing with forbidden excitement. I locked the door of my room and stood in front of the tall mirror on the wall.
First I unbuttoned my white shirt slowly, hook by hook from the top, the shirt parting wide to reveal my white bra hugging my full boobs tight. I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders, letting it slide down my arms and drop to the floor. My boobs bounced free in the white bra, nipples already hard and poking sharp over the bra cups from the cool air and my growing arousal. I reached behind my back, unhooked the white bra clasps one by one, and peeled the cups away slowly, letting my boobs fall heavy and round, nipples dark and erect, standing proud on the full boobs.
Next I untied the navy blue skirt knot at my hips, pushed the skirt down my thighs inch by inch until it pooled at my ankles. I stepped out, now only in my white panties. The white panties crotch was soaked against my pussy lips, the white panties hugging the outer pussy lips tight, outlining the plump shape. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my white panties, tugged them down slowly over my hips, sliding the white panties over my ass cheeks and down my thighs, the wet white panties crotch dragging slightly along my inner thighs before exposing my bare pussy and ass cheeks. The white panties caught briefly on my knees before I peeled them off completely, stepping free. My pussy lips glistened heavily with slickness, outer pussy lips plump and parted slightly, inner pussy lips dark pink and swollen, clit erect and throbbing visibly at the top.
Now fully naked, I stood straight in front of the mirror, admiring my nineteen-year-old body from head to toe in slow, deliberate detail. My long black hair cascaded down my back, brushing the tops of my ass cheeks with every small movement. My face glowed young and innocent—large dark eyes wide with lust, full red lips parted in a soft gasp, flushed cheeks—but my boobs were heavy and round, nipples hard and dark, pointing forward proudly. My navel sat deep and round in my flat stomach, a tempting dip that led down to my wide hips. My pussy looked perfect and dripping—outer pussy lips smooth and full, inner pussy lips peeking wet and inviting, clit erect and sensitive, slickness dripping slowly down my inner thighs. My thighs were thick and toned, inner sides slick where my juices had leaked, leading to long calves and delicate ankles. Turning sideways, my ass cheeks stood high and firm, round and plump, the deep space between them hiding my tight asshole. From behind, my ass cheeks jiggled slightly when I shifted weight, the round ass cheeks perfect and begging to be grabbed.
I ran my hands over my boobs, squeezing the full boobs gently, thumbs rubbing my nipples until they throbbed harder, sending fresh pulses straight to my pussy lips. My reflection showed a body made for lust—young, ripe, every inch erotic and ready. My pussy lips pulsed visibly, slickness dripping down my inner thighs in slow trails, but I only admired, loving how hot and powerful I felt naked and alone, my boobs heaving, ass cheeks clenching, clit aching under my own gaze.



Every day in college I got hotter and hotter, my boobs pushing harder against my white shirt, nipples poking sharp over the shirt whenever I moved or laughed, my ass cheeks jiggling more noticeably under my navy blue skirt, panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the skirt when I walked. The constant lust from boys made my pussy lips throb inside my white panties, slickness building until the white panties crotch stayed damp all day.
At home, the heat inside me grew unbearable. When my parents left for the fields, I rushed to my room, locked the door, and changed into my favorite casual home clothes: a tight white t-shirt and a short navy blue skirt. The t-shirt hugged my boobs tight, thin material clinging to the full mounds, nipples poking hard over the t-shirt even without a bra underneath. The short navy blue skirt sat low on my hips, hem barely covering the top of my thighs, panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the skirt when I bent or sat.
I stood in front of the mirror, admiring how the t-shirt stretched over my boobs, nipples dark and erect over the white material, the fabric outlining every shape of my full boobs. The skirt rode up my thighs with every movement, showing the edge of my white panties peeking out, the crotch already damp against my pussy lips. I turned sideways, watching my ass cheeks jiggle under the short skirt, the round ass cheeks perfect and plump, the space between them hiding my tight asshole.
My own dad had started looking at me differently. When I wore this t-shirt and skirt at home, my boobs bounced freely under the t-shirt, nipples poking sharp over the material whenever I walked past him or bent to pick something. Dad's eyes lingered on my boobs, then dropped to my hips and ass cheeks jiggling under the short skirt. When I sat on the floor to watch TV, my skirt rode up my thighs, showing upskirts of my white panties, panty line visible over my ass cheeks over the skirt when I shifted. Dad stared openly, his cock hardening in his dhoti, making a thick outline over the dhoti as he adjusted himself, eyes fixed on my boobs or the space between my thighs.
One evening when Amma was out, Dad came into the kitchen while I was washing dishes in my t-shirt and skirt. The t-shirt clung to my boobs, nipples hard and dark over the material from the cold water splashing. Dad stood behind me, close enough that I felt his cock hard against my ass cheeks over the skirt for a second before he stepped back, pretending it was accidental. His eyes burned on my boobs as I turned, nipples poking harder over the t-shirt under his stare. He swallowed hard, voice low. "Sudha, you are growing so fast," he said, eyes dropping to my navel visible below the short t-shirt hem, then lower to my thighs.
I felt my pussy lips pulse inside my white panties, slickness leaking fresh, body reacting even though guilt flooded me. Dad wanted me, his own daughter, his cock throbbing in his dhoti every time he looked at my boobs or my ass cheeks. The forbidden lust in his eyes made my clit throb, my pussy lips swell wetter, yet shame burned because he was my dad, and I knew he fantasized about grabbing my boobs, squeezing my ass cheeks, pushing his cock between my thighs.
The heat inside me grew every day, my body betraying me with constant arousal, pussy lips slick and ready, nipples hard at the slightest thought of his stare. I hated how much it excited me, yet I could not stop the slickness dripping down my inner thighs whenever Dad's eyes lingered too long on my boobs or my ass cheeks.

[novelistcasanova]

One day when Amma was out visiting relatives, I came home from college early. I went straight to my room, locked the door, and started changing. I unbuttoned my white shirt hook by hook from the top, shrugged it off my shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. My white bra hugged my full boobs tight, nipples poking hard over the bra cups from the cool air. I untied my navy blue skirt knot at my hips, pushed the skirt down my thighs, and stepped out, kicking it aside. Now only in my white bra and white panties, the white panties crotch soaked against my pussy lips, hugging the outer pussy lips tight, outlining the plump shape.

I turned to grab my home clothes from the almirah when I caught movement at the slightly open door. Dad stood there, eyes wide, staring at me in my white bra and white panties. He did not move, just looked from my face down to my boobs, lingering on the heavy mounds pushing against the white bra cups and erect nipples poking sharp over the bra, then lower to my navel, my wide hips, the white panties hugging my pussy lips tight, the damp crotch visible, and finally my thighs and ass cheeks peeking round from the side.
He stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His eyes roamed over me again, head to toe, taking in every inch of my nineteen-year-old body in the white bra and white panties. My boobs stood full and round inside the white bra, nipples hard and pointing forward, the mounds quivering with each quick breath. My navel dipped deep in my flat stomach, leading to my hips flaring wide. My pussy pressed against the white panties, outer pussy lips plump and outlined, inner pussy lips slightly visible through the damp white panties crotch. My thighs were thick and toned, inner sides slick with fresh slickness leaking from my pussy lips. My ass cheeks curved high and firm, round and plump, the white panties wedged slightly between them.
Dad swallowed hard, voice low and thick. "Sudha... look at you. You have grown into a full woman. Your boobs are so beautiful, so full and perfect in that white bra. Your body... it has become something extraordinary."
He stepped closer, eyes never leaving my boobs or my white panties. "I remember when you were small. Now you stand here like this, so young, so tender, so ready. Your hips, your thighs... everything about you is a gift."
His cock hardened visibly in his dhoti, making a thick outline over the dhoti as he spoke. "I love you, Sudha. More than you know."
The words hit me hard. Tears welled in my eyes. "I love you too, Daddy," I whispered, voice breaking with emotion. Guilt and confusion swirled inside me, but his gentle tone, his loving words, pulled at my heart.
He opened his arms. I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest over his shirt. He hugged me back tight, arms wrapping around my waist, hands sliding down to rest on my ass cheeks over the white panties. His palms squeezed my ass cheeks gently, fingers spreading to cup the round mounds, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the white panties seams. I did not pull away. I hugged him tighter, letting him feel me up as much as he wanted, my boobs crushed against him through the white bra, nipples rubbing against his shirt, my pussy lips pulsing wet inside the white panties against his thigh.
Dad's hands kneaded my ass cheeks softly, squeezing the plump ass cheeks in loving, possessive grips, fingers digging gentle into the flesh, thumbs tracing the white panties edges. His cock throbbed hard against my belly through his dhoti, hot and insistent. He buried his face in my hair, breathing deep. "My beautiful girl," he murmured. "So perfect."
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I hugged him, body trembling, letting him explore my ass cheeks with his hands while guilt and love and forbidden heat warred inside me.


I had never seen my dad this happy. His face softened, eyes shining with a warmth I had not seen in years, his breathing deep and steady as he hugged me. Pride swelled in my chest—I was making my dad happy, truly happy, in a way that felt forbidden yet powerful. My boobs in the white bra pressed against his chest over his shirt, nipples hard and rubbing with every breath, my pussy lips pulsing wet inside the white panties against his thigh.
I lifted my hands to cup his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks gently. "Daddy, are you happy?" I asked softly, voice trembling with emotion.
He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, voice rough and low. "Sudha... this is wrong. I hate myself for wanting you like this. What would the world say? What would people think if they knew?"
His words cut deep, guilt flashing in his eyes, but his arms stayed wrapped around my waist, hands resting on my ass cheeks over the white panties, fingers squeezing the round ass cheeks gently as if he could not let go. I felt his cock throb hard against my belly through his dhoti, betraying his words, his body still wanting me even as his mind fought.
I shook my head, tears spilling down my cheeks. "Daddy, I love you. You love me. That's what matters. Not the world. Not what anyone else thinks."
He looked at me, eyes searching mine, conflict tearing across his face. "Sudha... my beautiful girl... I should not feel this way. You are my daughter. But you stand here in your white bra and white panties, so young, so perfect... I cannot stop."
I hugged him tighter, wrapping my arms around his neck again, pressing my boobs harder against his chest through the white bra. He hugged me back fiercely, hands sliding up and down my back, then lower to squeeze my ass cheeks over the white panties, fingers kneading the plump ass cheeks in slow, loving grips. I did not stop him. I let him feel me up, my nipples rubbing against his shirt, my pussy lips throbbing wet inside the white panties, body responding while my heart ached with love for him and confusion.
"I love you, Daddy," I whispered again, tears streaming. "I want you to be happy."
He buried his face in my neck, breathing ragged, hands squeezing my ass cheeks harder now, thumbs rubbing the white panties seams. "I love you too, Sudha. More than anything."
We stood there, hugging tight, his hands exploring my ass cheeks, my boobs crushed against him, forbidden love and guilt mixing until I could not tell where one ended and the other began.



Dad's hands trembled slightly on my ass cheeks over the white panties, his breathing uneven, eyes darting between my face and my boobs in the white bra. I could feel his nervousness, the way his fingers clenched and unclenched on my ass cheeks, his cock still hard against my belly through his dhoti but his body stiff with fear.
I cupped his face again, thumbs stroking his cheeks gently, holding his gaze. "Daddy, do not feel nervous," I said softly. "Look at me. I am right here."
He swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. "Sudha... this is not right. I am your father. If anyone finds out... the shame... I cannot bear it."
I shook my head slowly, tears still on my cheeks. "No one will find out. And even if they did, I do not care. I love you, Daddy. That is all that matters to me."
His eyes filled with conflict, hands squeezing my ass cheeks tighter for a moment before loosening again. "But I should not want you like this. I hate myself for it. You are so young, so beautiful... and I am weak."
I leaned closer, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest again. "You are not weak, Daddy. You are a good man. You have always taken care of me, loved me. Now let me make you happy. I would do anything for you. Anything at all."
He exhaled shakily, eyes dropping to my boobs then back to my face. "Sudha... I am scared. What if this destroys us? What if I hurt you?"
I took his hands from my ass cheeks, interlacing my fingers with his, holding them firm between us. "You will not hurt me. I trust you completely. I love you more than anything. Let me show you how much."
He looked at our joined hands, then at me, voice cracking. "My girl... you are too good. Too pure. I do not deserve this."
I squeezed his hands gently. "You deserve everything, Daddy. You deserve to be happy. And I want to be the one who makes you happy."
His shoulders sagged slightly, nervousness easing just a little under my words. "Sudha... I have never felt this way. It terrifies me... but you give me strength."
I smiled through my tears, tugging his hand softly. "Then come with me."
I led him toward the bed, our fingers still locked, his steps hesitant but following. I sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling him to sit beside me. He sat, body tense, eyes fixed on my boobs in the white bra, then my white panties, then back to my face.
"I am here, Daddy," I whispered. "I love you. Let me take care of you now."
He nodded slowly, voice low. "I love you too, Sudha. God help me, I love you."
I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder, still holding his hand tight, giving him the confidence he needed while my own heart raced with love, guilt, and forbidden desire.


Dad's fingers trembled in mine, his palm sweaty, eyes flicking nervously from my boobs in the white bra to my face, then down to my white panties hugging my pussy lips tight. His breathing came quick and shallow, cock still hard against my belly through his dhoti, but his body rigid with fear.
I cupped his face again, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly. "Daddy, do not be nervous," I said softly. "Look at me. I am right here. I am not going anywhere."
He swallowed hard, voice cracking. "Sudha... after watching you grow into this... your boobs so full and beautiful in your white bra, your hips so wide, your thighs so strong, your ass cheeks so round and perfect under your white panties... God is tempting me, and I cannot control it anymore. I am weak. I am scared."
I shook my head slowly, keeping my hands on his face. "You are not weak, Daddy. You are the strongest man I know. You have taken care of me my whole life. Now let me take care of you. Do not control yourself. I do not want you to."
His eyes widened, guilt flashing. "But this is wrong. You are my daughter. If anyone knew... the shame... I would never forgive myself."
I interlaced my fingers with his, squeezing tight. "No one will know. And even if they did, I do not care. I love you, Daddy. You love me. That is all that matters. I am yours. Completely yours."
He exhaled shakily, fingers tightening around mine. "Sudha... you say that so easily. But I am terrified. What if this destroys us? What if I hurt you? I cannot bear the thought."
I leaned closer, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest again. "You will not hurt me. I trust you with everything. I want this. I want to make you happy. Let me give you strength, Daddy. Let me show you it is okay to want me."
His voice cracked, eyes searching mine. "My girl... you are too brave. Too loving. I do not deserve you. I am scared of what comes next. Scared of losing control."
I squeezed his hands harder. "Then lose control with me. I am not afraid. I love you more than anything. You are my dad, but you are also the man I want to make happy. Let me do this for you."
He stared at our joined hands, then at me, shoulders dropping slowly. "Sudha... your words... they give me courage. I do not know how, but they do. I love you so much."
I smiled through my tears, holding his hands firm between us. "I love you too, Daddy. More than anything. I am yours. Let me be yours completely."
He looked at me, eyes glistening. "Sudha... you are so young, so beautiful. Your boobs in that white bra, your hips... it is too much. I should walk away right now."
I shook my head gently. "Do not walk away. Stay with me. I need you, Daddy. I need to make you happy. Let me love you the way you deserve."
His breath hitched. "If we do this... there is no going back. The world would never forgive us. I would never forgive myself."
I lifted our joined hands to my lips, kissing his knuckles softly. "The world does not matter. Only us. Only this love between us. I am not scared, Daddy. I am ready. Are you ready to let me love you?"
He stared at me for a long moment, tears in his eyes. "Sudha... my heart... it is yours. Always has been. I am afraid... but I cannot fight this anymore."
I smiled softly, tears in my own eyes. "Then do not fight. Just be with me. Let me hold you. Let me make you happy."
He nodded slowly, voice low. "I love you, Sudha. More than life itself."
I hugged him tighter, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest, my pussy lips pulsing inside the white panties. "I love you too, Daddy. Forever."
We stood there facing each other, hugging close, his hands on my ass cheeks over the white panties, my fingers in his hair, forbidden love and guilt mixing until I could not tell where one ended and the other began.

[novelistcasanova]

Dad stood facing me, his hands sliding slowly up my body, palms gliding over my hips before moving higher. His fingers eased under the edges of my white bra cups, pushing the material up just enough to cup my bare boobs directly. His palms squeezed my boobs gently, fingers spreading wide to hold the full mounds, thumbs rubbing slow circles over my nipples. Each squeeze made my boobs compress warmly in his hands, the rounded boobs yielding soft under his firm yet tender grip, sensitive nipples hardening sharper, throbbing under his thumbs as he kneaded the boobs in rhythmic, loving pulses. The pressure sent jolts from my nipples straight down to my pussy lips, my boobs molding to the shape of his large palms, every subtle rub making the nipples ache against his fingertips, the full boobs shifting and quivering with each breath I took.

His other hand slipped lower, fingers sliding under the waistband of my white panties, pushing the cotton aside to cup my bare pussy. His palm pressed flat against my pussy lips, middle finger gliding slowly along the slick outer pussy lips, then dipping between them to rub my inner pussy lips and circle my clit. The touch made my pussy lips part wider, slickness coating his finger as he rubbed my clit in slow, gentle circles, the swollen clit throbbing under his fingertip, fresh juices leaking down my inner thighs. His fingers squeezed my boobs and rubbed my pussy in matching rhythm, making my nipples and clit pulse in sync, body trembling with unwanted pleasure.
He breathed ragged against my ear, voice low and shaky. "Sudha... I need a cold shower. I have to control myself. This is too much... I cannot keep touching you like this."
I shook my head, cupping his face again. "No, Daddy. Do not take a shower. Stay with me. You have given me everything my whole life. You have always kept me happy. Now it is my turn."
His hands paused on my boobs and pussy, fingers still inside my white panties and under my white bra, but he looked at me with guilt. "Sudha... I do not deserve this. I have tried to be a good father."
I held his face gently, looking into his eyes. "You have been the best father. Remember when I was five and cried for that red bicycle? You rode twenty kilometers on your old cycle to get it the same day. When I was eight and wanted dance classes, you worked extra shifts at the mill to pay for them. When I was twelve and wanted a new phone, you sold your gold chain to buy it. When I was fifteen and asked for a scooter, you took a loan so I could ride to college safely. When I was seventeen and wanted to go to that concert in Bangalore, you drove me there yourself and waited outside all night. When I was ten and wanted that big doll house, you built it yourself from wood you bought. When I was thirteen and wanted new clothes for the college function, you bought me three dresses even though money was tight. When I was eighteen and wanted to learn guitar, you bought me the instrument and paid for lessons. When I was six and scared of the dark, you slept on the floor beside my bed for weeks. When I was nine and wanted a puppy, you brought home a little one and took care of it with me. And you loved me so much that you named your rice mill Sudha Rice Mill. Every bag of rice, every sale, every success... you did it for me."
Tears filled his eyes. "Sudha... you remember all that?"
I nodded, tears in my own eyes. "Every single thing, Daddy. You gave me the world. Now let me give you something back. I am grown up. I know what I want. It is my turn to make you happy."
He exhaled shakily, fingers trembling on my boobs and inside my white panties. "Sudha... you are too good. Too kind. But I am your father. This temptation... it will ruin us. I am scared. I hate myself for wanting you so badly."
I squeezed his hands, holding them against my boobs and pussy. "Do not hate yourself. You have given me strength my whole life. Now let me give you strength. I love you, Daddy. I want you to feel good. I want to make you happy the way you always made me happy. Please... trust me."
He looked at me, eyes glistening. "My girl... you give me courage. I do not know how, but you do. I love you... more than anything."
I hugged him tighter, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest, my pussy lips pulsing around his finger inside my white panties. "I love you too, Daddy. Forever."
We stood there, hugging close, his hands still on my boobs and inside my white panties, forbidden love and guilt mixing until I could not tell where one ended and the other began.


Dad stood facing me, hands shaking as he held my waist over the white panties, fingers gripping the bare hips just above the waistband, palms hot against my navel area. His touch was nervous, hesitant, thumbs rubbing small, uncertain circles on my hips, as if afraid to move higher or lower.
I reached down with my right hand, sliding my palm over his dhoti, finding the thick cock already hard beneath the material. I grabbed his cock over the dhoti gently, fingers wrapping around the rigid length, feeling the hot, throbbing cock pulse against my hand through the thin dhoti cotton. The cock felt thick and heavy, veins prominent under my fingers, the head swollen and pushing against the dhoti seam, balls heavy below. I stroked him slowly, up and down the full length of his cock over the dhoti, thumb rubbing the swollen head in small circles, feeling the cock twitch and harden even more in my grip, pre-cum soaking through the dhoti to wet my fingers.
Dad's breath hitched, body tensing. "Sudha... no... we cannot... this is sin... I am your father..."
I kept stroking his cock over the dhoti, slow and firm, feeling every throb, every pulse. "Daddy, do not fight it. I want this. I want to give myself to you. I want you to be the one who takes my virginity. Not some boy from college. Not anyone else. Only you."
His cock jerked in my hand over the dhoti, shame and lust warring in his eyes. "Sudha... please... I am ashamed. My own daughter touching me like this... I should stop you. I should run. But... God help me... I cannot."
I squeezed his cock gently over the dhoti, feeling the thick length swell under my fingers, head leaking more pre-cum through the material. "Do not be ashamed, Daddy. I love you. I want you to have me. I want you inside me. I want you to be my first. Please... let me make you happy."
He groaned low, hips twitching forward into my hand. "Sudha... you are so young... so innocent... your boobs in that white bra, your pussy under these white panties... I should not want this. I should protect you. But I am weak. I am scared."
I stroked his cock faster over the dhoti, feeling the balls tighten below, the cock throbbing hot in my grip. "You have protected me my whole life, Daddy. Now let me give you something. I am ready. I want you to take my virginity. I want to feel your cock inside my pussy. I want to be yours completely."
His voice broke, tears in his eyes. "Sudha... my beautiful girl... you tempt me beyond reason. Your hand on my cock... it feels so wrong... but so good. I hate myself for this."
I leaned in, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest, still stroking his cock over the dhoti. "Do not hate yourself. You deserve this. You deserve me. I love you, Daddy. Let me show you how much. Let me give you my virginity. Please... take it. Take me."
He groaned again, cock pulsing hard in my hand over the dhoti, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... I am terrified. But... your words... your touch... you make me want to give in."
I squeezed his cock firmly over the dhoti, feeling the thick length throb desperately. "Then give in, Daddy. I am yours. My pussy is yours. My virginity is yours. I want you to be the one. No one else."
His hips bucked slightly into my hand, shame and lust mixing in his eyes. "Sudha... my love... I cannot fight this anymore. You have given me strength. I love you... I want you."
I smiled through my tears, still stroking his cock over the dhoti. "Then take me, Daddy. I am ready. I am yours."
We stood there, his hands on my waist, my hand on his cock over the dhoti, forbidden desire burning between us, guilt and love twisting together in every heartbeat.

[novelistcasanova]

I cupped Dad's face between my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly, holding his gaze while his hands rested nervously on my waist over the white panties, fingers gripping my hips just above the waistband, palms hot and trembling against my navel area.

"Daddy," I said softly, voice trembling with emotion. "All these men look at me every day. They lust after me so much. In college, the boys in my class stare at my boobs in my white shirt, watch my nipples poke hard over the shirt when I lean forward, follow my ass cheeks jiggling under my navy blue skirt when I walk. The senior boys wait outside the classroom just to see my thighs when my skirt rides up, whispering how they want to grab my boobs and squeeze my ass cheeks."
Dad's jaw tightened, eyes darkening with jealousy, hands squeezing my hips harder over the white panties. "Sudha... do not tell me these things. It makes me angry."
I kept stroking his cheeks. "The principal too, Daddy. He calls me to his office for small reasons, eyes fixed on my boobs pushing against my shirt, on my navel peeking when I sit. He stares at my pussy area under my skirt, imagining what is under my white panties. Even your friends, Daddy—Uncle Ravi, Uncle Kumar—they come home and watch me when I serve tea, eyes on my boobs bouncing in my t-shirt, on my ass cheeks in my shorts. They talk about how hot I am, how they wish they could touch me."
His cock throbbed harder against my belly through his dhoti, jealousy burning in his eyes, voice low and rough. "Sudha... stop. Hearing this... it makes me furious. They have no right to look at you like that."
I leaned closer, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his chest. "But they do look, Daddy. They lust after me. Every single one of them wants me. But I do not want them. I belong only to you. Only to you, Daddy. My boobs are yours. My pussy is yours. My ass cheeks are yours. My virginity is yours. No one else will ever touch me. Only you."
His breathing grew heavier, hands sliding up to squeeze my boobs over the white bra, fingers trembling with emotion and lust. "Sudha... you say that... and it makes me feel... lucky. Possessive. Angry at them... but so proud that you choose me."
I nodded, tears in my eyes. "Yes, Daddy. Only you. I do not want any other man. I want you to be the one who takes me. I want your cock inside my pussy. I want to give you everything. Please... take me. Make me yours completely."
His cock pulsed hard against me over the dhoti, hands squeezing my boobs firmer, thumbs rubbing my nipples over the white bra. "Sudha... my girl... hearing you say that... it drives me mad. I feel jealous of every man who looks at you. I feel angry they dare to want you. But... I feel so lucky. So blessed that you want only me."
I stroked his cheeks again. "I do want only you, Daddy. No one else. You are the only man I love. The only man I trust. The only man I want inside me. Let go of the fear. Let me make you happy. Let me give you my virginity. Please."
His voice broke with emotion, eyes glistening. "Sudha... you make me feel... strong. Wanted. Loved. I was so scared... but now... I want you too. I want to be the one. I want to claim you."
I smiled through my tears, hugging him tighter. "Then claim me, Daddy. I am yours. Forever yours."
His nervousness faded, replaced by raw lust and emotion, hands squeezing my boobs harder over the white bra, cock throbbing desperately against me over the dhoti. "I love you, Sudha. My beautiful girl. My everything."
I hugged him close, tears on my cheeks. "I love you too, Daddy. Take me. Make me yours."
We stood there, embracing tight, his hands on my boobs, my body pressed to his, forbidden desire burning hotter than ever.



I stood facing Dad, my hands sliding up his shirt, fingers working the buttons one by one from the top. I unbuttoned his shirt slowly, parting the material to reveal his chest, then pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and drop to the floor. His white banian hugged his chest, the thin material stretched over his muscles. I tugged the banian up, peeling it over his head, removing it completely, leaving his upper body bare.
Dad's breath hitched, eyes wide with nervousness, hands still on my hips over the white panties. I reached for the knot of his dhoti at his waist, fingers teasing the fabric. "Daddy... do not feel shy," I whispered, voice soft and encouraging. "Let me see you. I want to see all of you."
He swallowed hard, voice trembling. "Sudha... this is... I should not let you... I am your father..."
I tugged the dhoti knot gently, loosening it slowly. "You are my father, and I love you. I want this. I want to see your cock. I want to feel it. Do not be shy, Daddy. Let me take care of you."
The dhoti loosened, and I pushed it down his hips, sliding the material over his thighs, teasing him as it lowered. "Look at me, Daddy. See how much I want you. Your cock is so hard for me... I love that. It makes me feel special."
The dhoti fell to his ankles, leaving him standing only in his white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over his thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, balls heavy below. A dark wet spot showed at the tip where pre-cum leaked through the white underwear.
Dad's face flushed deep red, hands shaking on my hips, voice low and embarrassed. "Sudha... do not look... I am so ashamed... standing like this in front of you..."
I stepped closer, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his bare chest, my hand sliding down to grab his cock over the white underwear. I stroked him slowly, feeling the hot, throbbing cock pulse under my fingers through the cotton, the swollen head slick with pre-cum soaking the material. "Do not be ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. It is so hard for me. I love feeling it like this. I love knowing you want me."
His cock twitched hard in my hand over the white underwear, breath ragged. "Sudha... this is wrong... but... your hand... it feels so good... I cannot think straight..."
I stroked him firmer, thumb rubbing the wet spot at the head over the white underwear. "Then do not think, Daddy. Feel. I want you. I want your cock inside my pussy. I want you to take my virginity. No one else. Only you."
He groaned low, hips bucking slightly into my hand. "Sudha... my girl... you are killing me... I should stop... but I want you so badly... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I squeezed his cock over the white underwear, feeling the thick length throb desperately. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love you. I want only you. Let go of the fear. Let me make you happy. Let me give you my pussy."
His nervousness faded slowly, replaced by raw lust, eyes darkening with desire. "Sudha... you make me feel... strong. Wanted. Loved. I cannot fight this anymore. I want you... I want to be inside you."
I smiled through my tears, still stroking his cock over the white underwear. "Then take me, Daddy. I am yours. My pussy is yours. My virginity is yours. I want you to be the one. Please... take it."
His cock pulsed hard in my hand over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my love... I am yours too. I want you. I need you."
We stood there, my hand on his cock over the white underwear, his hands on my hips, forbidden desire burning hotter than ever, guilt fading under the weight of love and lust.


I cupped Dad's face between my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly, holding his gaze while his hands rested nervously on my waist over the white panties, fingers gripping my hips just above the waistband, palms hot and trembling against my navel area.
I leaned in slowly, lips brushing his lips softly at first, a gentle, tentative kiss. My lips touched his in a light press, soft and warm, tasting the faint salt of his skin. I kissed him again, slightly firmer, lips parting just enough to let my tongue flick out and trace the seam of his lips. The kiss deepened gradually, my lips molding to his, tongue sliding softly into his mouth, tasting him—warm, slightly bitter from tobacco and coffee, the inside of his mouth rough and unclean from years of poor dental hygiene, teeth stained and breath heavy with a strong, musky odor. I did not pull back. I kissed him deeper, tongue swirling around his tongue, tasting every filthy corner of his mouth, the bad breath mixing with my saliva in wet, intimate strokes.
Dad froze at first, lips stiff, not kissing back. He pulled his head back slightly, voice low and ashamed. "Sudha... stop... my mouth... it is filthy. My breath is bad. My teeth... I have not brushed properly... it is embarrassing. You should not kiss me like this."
I held his face firmer, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. "Daddy, I do not mind. I do not care about your breath or your teeth. I love you. All of you. Your taste, your smell... it is you. The filth in your mouth... I love it too. I want to taste everything about you. Do not feel embarrassed. Let me kiss you."
His eyes glistened, nervousness still there, but he nodded slightly. I kissed him again, lips pressing passionately now, tongue sliding deeper into his mouth, swirling around his tongue in slow, wet circles. My lips sucked his lower lip gently, then upper lip, tasting every part of his filthy mouth—strong tobacco bitterness, stale coffee residue, the rough texture of his unbrushed teeth, the heavy, musky breath that filled my senses. The kiss was wet and deep, saliva mixing freely, my tongue exploring the unclean corners of his mouth, savoring the raw, unfiltered taste of him.
Dad hesitated for a second longer, then his lips moved back against mine, tentative at first, tongue touching mine shyly. The kiss grew passionate, his tongue thrusting deeper into my mouth, tasting me in return. He groaned low, hands squeezing my hips over the white panties.
"Sudha... your lips... they taste so sweet," he whispered against my mouth between kisses. "Like fresh honey... soft and warm... I have never tasted anything so perfect. Your tongue... it is so gentle, so eager... it makes me feel alive."
I pinched his cheeks playfully, smiling into the kiss. "Enjoy more, Daddy. Kiss me harder. Taste me as much as you want. These lips are yours. My mouth is yours. Kiss me like you mean it."
He groaned again, lips pressing harder against mine, tongue thrusting deeper into my mouth, swirling around my tongue in hungry, passionate strokes. He sucked my lower lip, then upper lip, tasting every corner of my mouth—sweet saliva mixing with his filthy breath, the kiss wet and deep, lips sliding and sucking, tongues tangling in slow, erotic rhythm. "Sudha... your lips are so soft... so full... I love how they move against mine... the taste of you... sweet and addictive... I could kiss you forever."
I moaned into his mouth again, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pinching his cheeks harder, encouraging him. "Kiss me more, Daddy. Do not stop. I love your taste too. Your tongue in my mouth... it feels so good. The filth, the bitterness... I love it all. You make me so happy."
His nervousness faded, replaced by raw lust and emotion, hands sliding up to squeeze my boobs over the white bra, thumbs rubbing my nipples through the material while his tongue thrust deeper into my mouth, tasting every inch, lips sucking passionately. "Sudha... my girl... your lips... they are perfect... sweet like nectar... I am so lucky... so blessed to taste you like this."
I kissed him back harder, tongue swirling around his, lips sucking his tongue gently. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. These lips are only for you. Kiss me more. Make me yours."
We stood there, kissing passionately, his hands on my boobs over the white bra, my fingers in his hair, tongues tangled in wet, hungry strokes, forbidden love burning hotter with every breath.

[novelistcasanova]

I stood facing Dad, my hands sliding up to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly. I leaned in, lips brushing his neck softly at first, kissing the warm skin below his ear. My lips pressed gently, tasting the faint salt of his sweat, then I opened my mouth, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on his neck. I sucked lightly, lips sealing around the skin, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, feeling his pulse throb under my mouth. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking harder, tongue gliding along the line of his neck, tasting every inch—warm, slightly salty, the rough texture of his stubble scbanging my lips. I moaned softly against his neck, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, sucking a small mark there, lips sliding down to his collarbone, tongue dipping into the hollow, tasting him deeply.

Dad shivered violently, breath hitching, hands squeezing my hips over the white panties. "Sudha... your lips on my neck... it feels too good... I should stop this..."
I kissed lower, lips moving to the center of his chest, tongue tracing slow, wet lines between his pectoral muscles, tasting the warm skin, feeling his heart pound under my mouth. I sucked gently on the skin there, lips pulling softly, tongue swirling in small circles, then moved lower to his stomach, kissing the flat area above his navel, tongue dipping into the shallow dip, tasting the slight saltiness, lips sucking lightly on the skin around his navel. My boobs in the white bra brushed his stomach with each kiss, nipples hard and rubbing against him through the bra cups.
I knelt slowly in front of him, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I placed my right hand on his cock over the white underwear, fingers wrapping around the rigid length, feeling the hot, throbbing cock pulse under my palm through the cotton. I stroked him slowly, up and down the full length, thumb rubbing the swollen head in small, teasing circles over the wet spot, feeling the cock twitch and leak more pre-cum through the material. My left hand cupped his balls over the white underwear, fingers gently massaging the heavy balls, feeling them tighten under my touch. I stroked his cock with long, sensual pulls, squeezing lightly at the base, thumb circling the head slowly, feeling every throb, every vein under the cotton.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my hand, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... oh God... your hand on my cock... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, still stroking his cock over the white underwear. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel how hard you are for me. Your cock is throbbing so much... I love it. I love feeling you like this. You are so big, so hot in my hand. Let me tease you more."
He groaned, body shaking with extreme pleasure, hands clenching at his sides. "Sudha... my girl... your fingers... they are so gentle... so perfect... I am shaking... I cannot think..."
I squeezed his cock over the white underwear, feeling the thick length pulse desperately. "Then do not think, Daddy. Just feel. Your cock is mine now. I want to make you feel good. I want to see how much you leak for me. Look at the wet spot... it is all for me."
His cock jerked hard in my hand over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... you are driving me mad... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me... that you are touching me like this..."
I stroked him slower, more teasing, thumb pressing the swollen head over the white underwear, feeling it throb under my touch. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it feels in my hand. Hard and hot and all mine. Let me play with it more. Let me make you shiver."
Dad's knees buckled slightly, body shivering with extreme pleasure, voice breaking. "Sudha... please... your hand... it is too much... I am yours... completely yours..."
I smiled up at him, still stroking his cock over the white underwear, fingers gliding up and down the length, teasing the head with slow circles. "Yes, Daddy. You are mine. And I am yours. Let me make you feel everything. Let me tease you until you cannot stand it."
We stayed like that, me kneeling in front of him, hand playing with his cock over the white underwear, his body shivering with pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter with every stroke.




I knelt in front of Dad, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I leaned forward, lips brushing the white underwear over his cock head softly at first. My lips pressed gently against the cotton, feeling the hot, throbbing cock beneath, tasting the faint salt of pre-cum through the material. I kissed the swollen head over the white underwear, lips sealing around the outline, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on the damp cotton. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking lightly on the cock head over the white underwear, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, tasting the musky pre-cum soaking through, the cock twitching under my mouth with every suck. I moaned softly against the white underwear, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, lips sliding down the length of his cock over the material, kissing along the thick cock, tongue pressing flat to lick the underside through the cotton, feeling every vein pulse under my tongue.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my face, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... your lips on my cock over the white underwear... oh God... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I kissed the base of his cock over the white underwear, lips sucking the heavy balls through the cotton, tongue swirling around each ball, tasting the musky scent, then moved back up to the head, lips sealing around it again, sucking harder. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel my lips on your cock. I love tasting you like this. Your cock is so hard for me... so hot through your white underwear. I want to kiss it more. I want to make you feel good."
His cock jerked hard under my lips over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my girl... your mouth... it is too much... I am shaking... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, lips still brushing the swollen head over the white underwear. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it throbs when I kiss it. Let me tease you more. Let me make you shiver."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his white underwear, tugging it down slowly over his hips, sliding the cotton over his ass cheeks and down his thighs. The white underwear caught on his thick cock, the swollen head springing free first, pre-cum dripping from the tip, then the full cock bounced out, thick and veined, head dark and glistening, balls heavy below. I peeled the white underwear down his thighs completely, letting it drop to his ankles, leaving him naked in front of me.
Dad's cock stood hard and throbbing, head swollen and leaking, veins pulsing along the length, balls tight and heavy. He shivered, voice breaking. "Sudha... I am naked... in front of you... I feel so exposed... so ashamed... but so horny..."
I looked up at him, hands resting on his thighs. "Do not feel ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. Thick and hard and perfect. I love seeing it like this. I love knowing it is hard for me. You are mine now. Let me kiss it without the white underwear in the way."
He groaned, hips twitching. "Sudha... please... your words... your touch... I cannot hold back..."
I leaned forward again, lips brushing the bare cock head softly, tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum directly, salty and warm, then kissed the swollen head passionately, lips sealing around it, tongue swirling slow circles. Dad shivered with extreme pleasure, body trembling, hands clenching at his sides.
"Sudha... my girl... your lips on my cock... bare... it is too much... I feel so lucky... so blessed..."
I sucked the head gently, tongue rubbing the underside, then kissed down the length, lips trailing along the thick cock, tongue licking the veins. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. Your cock tastes so good. I love teasing you. I love making you shiver. Let me make you feel everything."
His cock throbbed hard against my lips, pre-cum dripping down my chin. "Sudha... I am yours... completely yours... keep going... please..."
I smiled up at him, lips still on his cock. "I will, Daddy. I will make you happy. I will make you feel so good. You are mine. And I am yours."
We stayed like that, me kneeling in front of him, lips and tongue on his bare cock, his body shivering with extreme pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter with every kiss.



I knelt in front of Dad, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I leaned forward, lips brushing the white underwear over his cock head softly at first. My lips pressed gently against the cotton, feeling the hot, throbbing cock beneath, tasting the faint salt of pre-cum through the material. I kissed the swollen head over the white underwear, lips sealing around the outline, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on the damp cotton. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking lightly on the cock head over the white underwear, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, tasting the musky pre-cum soaking through, the cock twitching under my mouth with every suck. I moaned softly against the white underwear, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, lips sliding down the length of his cock over the material, kissing along the thick cock, tongue pressing flat to lick the underside through the cotton, feeling every vein pulse under my tongue.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my face, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... your lips on my cock over the white underwear... oh God... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I kissed the base of his cock over the white underwear, lips sucking the heavy balls through the cotton, tongue swirling around each ball, tasting the musky scent, then moved back up to the head, lips sealing around it again, sucking harder. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel my lips on your cock. I love tasting you like this. Your cock is so hard for me... so hot through your white underwear. I want to kiss it more. I want to make you feel good."
His cock jerked hard under my lips over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my girl... your mouth... it is too much... I am shaking... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, lips still brushing the swollen head over the white underwear. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it throbs when I kiss it. Let me tease you more. Let me make you shiver."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his white underwear, tugging it down slowly over his hips, sliding the cotton over his ass cheeks and down his thighs. The white underwear caught on his thick cock, the swollen head springing free first, pre-cum dripping from the tip, then the full cock bounced out, thick and veined, head dark and glistening, balls heavy below. I peeled the white underwear down his thighs completely, letting it drop to his ankles, leaving him naked in front of me.
Dad's cock stood hard and throbbing, head swollen and leaking, veins pulsing along the length, balls tight and heavy. He shivered, voice breaking. "Sudha... I am naked... in front of you... I feel so exposed... so ashamed... but so horny..."
I looked up at him, hands resting on his thighs. "Do not feel ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. Thick and hard and perfect. I love seeing it like this. I love knowing it is hard for me. You are mine now. Let me kiss it without the white underwear in the way."
He groaned, hips twitching. "Sudha... please... your words... your touch... I cannot hold back..."
I leaned forward again, lips brushing the bare cock head softly, tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum directly, salty and warm. I kissed the swollen head passionately, lips sealing around it, tongue swirling slow circles over the smooth, slick tip, tasting every drop of pre-cum leaking from the slit. I sucked the head gently, lips pulling softly, tongue rubbing the sensitive underside, then took more of his cock into my mouth, lips sliding down the thick cock, tongue pressing flat along the underside, feeling every vein throb against my tongue. My mouth filled with his taste—salty pre-cum, warm skin, the musky scent of his arousal. I bobbed slowly, lips gliding up and down his cock, sucking harder on the upstroke, tongue swirling around the head each time, feeling the cock swell thicker in my mouth, veins pulsing, pre-cum coating my tongue in steady leaks.
Dad shivered with extreme pleasure, hips bucking slightly into my mouth, hands clenching at his sides. "Sudha... your mouth on my cock... bare... so warm... so wet... I am going to... oh God... I am close..."
I sucked deeper, lips sliding down until his cock head touched the back of my throat, tongue pressing hard against the underside, cheeks hollowing as I sucked, feeling his cock throb desperately, balls tightening against my chin. I moaned around his cock, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, the vibration making him groan louder, hips jerking forward.
"Sudha... your mouth... it is too good... I cannot... I am going to cum..."
I pulled off slowly, lips gliding up his cock, tongue flicking the head one last time, tasting the heavy pre-cum, then released him completely. His cock stood throbbing, glistening with my saliva, head dark and swollen, pre-cum dripping in thick strings from the slit. He shivered violently, body shaking with denied release, eyes glazed with pleasure.
"Not yet, Daddy," I whispered, looking up at him. "I want to feel you inside my pussy when you cum. Not in my mouth. I want you to fill me. I want you to claim me completely."
He groaned, cock twitching hard in the air. "Sudha... you tease me so cruelly... but I love it... I love you... I want you... I need you..."
I stood slowly, pressing my body against his, boobs in the white bra crushing against his chest, pussy lips pulsing inside the white panties against his thigh. "Then take me, Daddy. I am yours. My pussy is ready for you. Make me yours."
He hugged me tight, cock throbbing against my belly, body still shivering with extreme pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter than ev

[novelistcasanova]

ever.




I stood facing Dad, my hands sliding up his shirt, fingers working the buttons one by one from the top. I unbuttoned his shirt slowly, parting the material to reveal his chest, then pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and drop to the floor. His white banian hugged his chest, the thin material stretched over his muscles. I tugged the banian up, peeling it over his head, removing it completely, leaving his upper body bare.
Dad's breath hitched, eyes wide with nervousness, hands still on my hips over the white panties. I reached for the knot of his dhoti at his waist, fingers teasing the fabric. "Daddy... do not feel shy," I whispered, voice soft and encouraging. "Let me see you. I want to see all of you."
He swallowed hard, voice trembling. "Sudha... this is... I should not let you... I am your father..."
I tugged the dhoti knot gently, loosening it slowly. "You are my father, and I love you. I want this. I want to see your cock. I want to feel it. Do not be shy, Daddy. Let me take care of you."
The dhoti loosened, and I pushed it down his hips, sliding the material over his thighs, teasing him as it lowered. "Look at me, Daddy. See how much I want you. Your cock is so hard for me... I love that. It makes me feel special."
The dhoti fell to his ankles, leaving him standing only in his white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over his thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, balls heavy below. A dark wet spot showed at the tip where pre-cum leaked through the white underwear.
Dad's face flushed deep red, hands shaking on my hips, voice low and embarrassed. "Sudha... do not look... I am so ashamed... standing like this in front of you..."
I stepped closer, pressing my boobs in the white bra against his bare chest, my hand sliding down to grab his cock over the white underwear. I stroked him slowly, feeling the hot, throbbing cock pulse under my fingers through the cotton, the swollen head slick with pre-cum soaking the material. "Do not be ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. It is so hard for me. I love feeling it like this. I love knowing you want me."
His cock twitched hard in my hand over the white underwear, breath ragged. "Sudha... this is wrong... but... your hand... it feels so good... I cannot think straight..."
I stroked him firmer, thumb rubbing the wet spot at the head over the white underwear. "Then do not think, Daddy. Feel. I want you. I want your cock inside my pussy. I want you to take my virginity. No one else. Only you."
He groaned low, hips bucking slightly into my hand. "Sudha... my girl... you are killing me... I should stop... but I want you so badly... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I squeezed his cock over the white underwear, feeling the thick length throb desperately. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love you. I want only you. Let go of the fear. Let me make you happy. Let me give you my pussy."
His nervousness faded slowly, replaced by raw lust, eyes darkening with desire. "Sudha... you make me feel... strong. Wanted. Loved. I cannot fight this anymore. I want you... I want to be inside you."
I smiled through my tears, still stroking his cock over the white underwear. "Then take me, Daddy. I am yours. My pussy is yours. My virginity is yours. I want you to be the one. Please... take it."
His cock pulsed hard in my hand over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my love... I am yours too. I want you. I need you."
We stood there, my hand on his cock over the white underwear, his hands on my hips, forbidden desire burning hotter than ever, guilt fading under the weight of love and lust.


I cupped Dad's face between my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly, holding his gaze while his hands rested nervously on my waist over the white panties, fingers gripping my hips just above the waistband, palms hot and trembling against my navel area.
I leaned in slowly, lips brushing his lips softly at first, a gentle, tentative kiss. My lips touched his in a light press, soft and warm, tasting the faint salt of his skin. I kissed him again, slightly firmer, lips parting just enough to let my tongue flick out and trace the seam of his lips. The kiss deepened gradually, my lips molding to his, tongue sliding softly into his mouth, tasting him—warm, slightly bitter from tobacco and coffee, the inside of his mouth rough and unclean from years of poor dental hygiene, teeth stained and breath heavy with a strong, musky odor. I did not pull back. I kissed him deeper, tongue swirling around his tongue, tasting every filthy corner of his mouth, the bad breath mixing with my saliva in wet, intimate strokes.
Dad froze at first, lips stiff, not kissing back. He pulled his head back slightly, voice low and ashamed. "Sudha... stop... my mouth... it is filthy. My breath is bad. My teeth... I have not brushed properly... it is embarrassing. You should not kiss me like this."
I held his face firmer, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. "Daddy, I do not mind. I do not care about your breath or your teeth. I love you. All of you. Your taste, your smell... it is you. The filth in your mouth... I love it too. I want to taste everything about you. Do not feel embarrassed. Let me kiss you."
His eyes glistened, nervousness still there, but he nodded slightly. I kissed him again, lips pressing passionately now, tongue sliding deeper into his mouth, swirling around his tongue in slow, wet circles. My lips sucked his lower lip gently, then upper lip, tasting every part of his filthy mouth—strong tobacco bitterness, stale coffee residue, the rough texture of his unbrushed teeth, the heavy, musky breath that filled my senses. The kiss was wet and deep, saliva mixing freely, my tongue exploring the unclean corners of his mouth, savoring the raw, unfiltered taste of him.
Dad hesitated for a second longer, then his lips moved back against mine, tentative at first, tongue touching mine shyly. The kiss grew passionate, his tongue thrusting deeper into my mouth, tasting me in return. He groaned low, hands squeezing my hips over the white panties.
"Sudha... your lips... they taste so sweet," he whispered against my mouth between kisses. "Like fresh honey... soft and warm... I have never tasted anything so perfect. Your tongue... it is so gentle, so eager... it makes me feel alive."
I pinched his cheeks playfully, smiling into the kiss. "Enjoy more, Daddy. Kiss me harder. Taste me as much as you want. These lips are yours. My mouth is yours. Kiss me like you mean it."
He groaned again, lips pressing harder against mine, tongue thrusting deeper into my mouth, swirling around my tongue in hungry, passionate strokes. He sucked my lower lip, then upper lip, tasting every corner of my mouth—sweet saliva mixing with his filthy breath, the kiss wet and deep, lips sliding and sucking, tongues tangling in slow, erotic rhythm. "Sudha... your lips are so soft... so full... I love how they move against mine... the taste of you... sweet and addictive... I could kiss you forever."
I moaned into his mouth again, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pinching his cheeks harder, encouraging him. "Kiss me more, Daddy. Do not stop. I love your taste too. Your tongue in my mouth... it feels so good. The filth, the bitterness... I love it all. You make me so happy."
His nervousness faded, replaced by raw lust and emotion, hands sliding up to squeeze my boobs over the white bra, thumbs rubbing my nipples through the material while his tongue thrust deeper into my mouth, tasting every inch, lips sucking passionately. "Sudha... my girl... your lips... they are perfect... sweet like nectar... I am so lucky... so blessed to taste you like this."
I kissed him back harder, tongue swirling around his, lips sucking his tongue gently. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. These lips are only for you. Kiss me more. Make me yours."
We stood there, kissing passionately, his hands on my boobs over the white bra, my fingers in his hair, tongues tangled in wet, hungry strokes, forbidden love burning hotter with every breath.



I stood facing Dad, my hands sliding up to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks slowly. I leaned in, lips brushing his neck softly at first, kissing the warm skin below his ear. My lips pressed gently, tasting the faint salt of his sweat, then I opened my mouth, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on his neck. I sucked lightly, lips sealing around the skin, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, feeling his pulse throb under my mouth. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking harder, tongue gliding along the line of his neck, tasting every inch—warm, slightly salty, the rough texture of his stubble scbanging my lips. I moaned softly against his neck, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, sucking a small mark there, lips sliding down to his collarbone, tongue dipping into the hollow, tasting him deeply.
Dad shivered violently, breath hitching, hands squeezing my hips over the white panties. "Sudha... your lips on my neck... it feels too good... I should stop this..."
I kissed lower, lips moving to the center of his chest, tongue tracing slow, wet lines between his pectoral muscles, tasting the warm skin, feeling his heart pound under my mouth. I sucked gently on the skin there, lips pulling softly, tongue swirling in small circles, then moved lower to his stomach, kissing the flat area above his navel, tongue dipping into the shallow dip, tasting the slight saltiness, lips sucking lightly on the skin around his navel. My boobs in the white bra brushed his stomach with each kiss, nipples hard and rubbing against him through the bra cups.
I knelt slowly in front of him, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I placed my right hand on his cock over the white underwear, fingers wrapping around the rigid length, feeling the hot, throbbing cock pulse under my palm through the cotton. I stroked him slowly, up and down the full length, thumb rubbing the swollen head in small, teasing circles over the wet spot, feeling the cock twitch and leak more pre-cum through the material. My left hand cupped his balls over the white underwear, fingers gently massaging the heavy balls, feeling them tighten under my touch. I stroked his cock with long, sensual pulls, squeezing lightly at the base, thumb circling the head slowly, feeling every throb, every vein under the cotton.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my hand, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... oh God... your hand on my cock... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, still stroking his cock over the white underwear. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel how hard you are for me. Your cock is throbbing so much... I love it. I love feeling you like this. You are so big, so hot in my hand. Let me tease you more."
He groaned, body shaking with extreme pleasure, hands clenching at his sides. "Sudha... my girl... your fingers... they are so gentle... so perfect... I am shaking... I cannot think..."
I squeezed his cock over the white underwear, feeling the thick length pulse desperately. "Then do not think, Daddy. Just feel. Your cock is mine now. I want to make you feel good. I want to see how much you leak for me. Look at the wet spot... it is all for me."
His cock jerked hard in my hand over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... you are driving me mad... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me... that you are touching me like this..."
I stroked him slower, more teasing, thumb pressing the swollen head over the white underwear, feeling it throb under my touch. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it feels in my hand. Hard and hot and all mine. Let me play with it more. Let me make you shiver."
Dad's knees buckled slightly, body shivering with extreme pleasure, voice breaking. "Sudha... please... your hand... it is too much... I am yours... completely yours..."
I smiled up at him, still stroking his cock over the white underwear, fingers gliding up and down the length, teasing the head with slow circles. "Yes, Daddy. You are mine. And I am yours. Let me make you feel everything. Let me tease you until you cannot stand it."
We stayed like that, me kneeling in front of him, hand playing with his cock over the white underwear, his body shivering with pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter with every stroke.




I knelt in front of Dad, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I leaned forward, lips brushing the white underwear over his cock head softly at first. My lips pressed gently against the cotton, feeling the hot, throbbing cock beneath, tasting the faint salt of pre-cum through the material. I kissed the swollen head over the white underwear, lips sealing around the outline, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on the damp cotton. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking lightly on the cock head over the white underwear, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, tasting the musky pre-cum soaking through, the cock twitching under my mouth with every suck. I moaned softly against the white underwear, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, lips sliding down the length of his cock over the material, kissing along the thick cock, tongue pressing flat to lick the underside through the cotton, feeling every vein pulse under my tongue.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my face, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... your lips on my cock over the white underwear... oh God... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I kissed the base of his cock over the white underwear, lips sucking the heavy balls through the cotton, tongue swirling around each ball, tasting the musky scent, then moved back up to the head, lips sealing around it again, sucking harder. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel my lips on your cock. I love tasting you like this. Your cock is so hard for me... so hot through your white underwear. I want to kiss it more. I want to make you feel good."
His cock jerked hard under my lips over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my girl... your mouth... it is too much... I am shaking... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, lips still brushing the swollen head over the white underwear. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it throbs when I kiss it. Let me tease you more. Let me make you shiver."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his white underwear, tugging it down slowly over his hips, sliding the cotton over his ass cheeks and down his thighs. The white underwear caught on his thick cock, the swollen head springing free first, pre-cum dripping from the tip, then the full cock bounced out, thick and veined, head dark and glistening, balls heavy below. I peeled the white underwear down his thighs completely, letting it drop to his ankles, leaving him naked in front of me.
Dad's cock stood hard and throbbing, head swollen and leaking, veins pulsing along the length, balls tight and heavy. He shivered, voice breaking. "Sudha... I am naked... in front of you... I feel so exposed... so ashamed... but so horny..."
I looked up at him, hands resting on his thighs. "Do not feel ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. Thick and hard and perfect. I love seeing it like this. I love knowing it is hard for me. You are mine now. Let me kiss it without the white underwear in the way."
He groaned, hips twitching. "Sudha... please... your words... your touch... I cannot hold back..."
I leaned forward again, lips brushing the bare cock head softly, tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum directly, salty and warm, then kissed the swollen head passionately, lips sealing around it, tongue swirling slow circles. Dad shivered with extreme pleasure, body trembling, hands clenching at his sides.
"Sudha... my girl... your lips on my cock... bare... it is too much... I feel so lucky... so blessed..."
I sucked the head gently, tongue rubbing the underside, then kissed down the length, lips trailing along the thick cock, tongue licking the veins. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. Your cock tastes so good. I love teasing you. I love making you shiver. Let me make you feel everything."
His cock throbbed hard against my lips, pre-cum dripping down my chin. "Sudha... I am yours... completely yours... keep going... please..."
I smiled up at him, lips still on his cock. "I will, Daddy. I will make you happy. I will make you feel so good. You are mine. And I am yours."
We stayed like that, me kneeling in front of him, lips and tongue on his bare cock, his body shivering with extreme pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter with every kiss.



I knelt in front of Dad, face level with his white underwear. My hands rested on his thighs, thumbs rubbing the inner sides gently. I looked up at his face, eyes locked on his, then down at his cock over the white underwear. The white underwear stretched tight over the thick cock, the cock outlined clearly, head swollen and pushing against the cotton, a dark wet spot at the tip from pre-cum soaking through. Balls hung heavy below, pressing against the material.
I leaned forward, lips brushing the white underwear over his cock head softly at first. My lips pressed gently against the cotton, feeling the hot, throbbing cock beneath, tasting the faint salt of pre-cum through the material. I kissed the swollen head over the white underwear, lips sealing around the outline, tongue flicking out to trace slow, wet circles on the damp cotton. The kiss grew passionate, lips sucking lightly on the cock head over the white underwear, tongue swirling in small, teasing strokes, tasting the musky pre-cum soaking through, the cock twitching under my mouth with every suck. I moaned softly against the white underwear, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, lips sliding down the length of his cock over the material, kissing along the thick cock, tongue pressing flat to lick the underside through the cotton, feeling every vein pulse under my tongue.
Dad shivered violently, hips twitching forward into my face, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Sudha... your lips on my cock over the white underwear... oh God... it feels... I cannot... I should not..."
I kissed the base of his cock over the white underwear, lips sucking the heavy balls through the cotton, tongue swirling around each ball, tasting the musky scent, then moved back up to the head, lips sealing around it again, sucking harder. "Do not fight it, Daddy. Feel my lips on your cock. I love tasting you like this. Your cock is so hard for me... so hot through your white underwear. I want to kiss it more. I want to make you feel good."
His cock jerked hard under my lips over the white underwear, pre-cum soaking through more. "Sudha... my girl... your mouth... it is too much... I am shaking... I feel so lucky... so blessed that you want me..."
I looked up at him, smiling softly, lips still brushing the swollen head over the white underwear. "You are lucky, Daddy. And I am lucky too. I love your cock. I love how it throbs when I kiss it. Let me tease you more. Let me make you shiver."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his white underwear, tugging it down slowly over his hips, sliding the cotton over his ass cheeks and down his thighs. The white underwear caught on his thick cock, the swollen head springing free first, pre-cum dripping from the tip, then the full cock bounced out, thick and veined, head dark and glistening, balls heavy below. I peeled the white underwear down his thighs completely, letting it drop to his ankles, leaving him naked in front of me.
Dad's cock stood hard and throbbing, head swollen and leaking, veins pulsing along the length, balls tight and heavy. He shivered, voice breaking. "Sudha... I am naked... in front of you... I feel so exposed... so ashamed... but so horny..."
I looked up at him, hands resting on his thighs. "Do not feel ashamed, Daddy. Your cock is beautiful. Thick and hard and perfect. I love seeing it like this. I love knowing it is hard for me. You are mine now. Let me kiss it without the white underwear in the way."
He groaned, hips twitching. "Sudha... please... your words... your touch... I cannot hold back..."
I leaned forward again, lips brushing the bare cock head softly, tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum directly, salty and warm. I kissed the swollen head passionately, lips sealing around it, tongue swirling slow circles over the smooth, slick tip, tasting every drop of pre-cum leaking from the slit. I sucked the head gently, lips pulling softly, tongue rubbing the sensitive underside, then took more of his cock into my mouth, lips sliding down the thick cock, tongue pressing flat along the underside, feeling every vein throb against my tongue. My mouth filled with his taste—salty pre-cum, warm skin, the musky scent of his arousal. I bobbed slowly, lips gliding up and down his cock, sucking harder on the upstroke, tongue swirling around the head each time, feeling the cock swell thicker in my mouth, veins pulsing, pre-cum coating my tongue in steady leaks.
Dad shivered with extreme pleasure, hips bucking slightly into my mouth, hands clenching at his sides. "Sudha... your mouth on my cock... bare... so warm... so wet... I am going to... oh God... I am close..."
I sucked deeper, lips sliding down until his cock head touched the back of my throat, tongue pressing hard against the underside, cheeks hollowing as I sucked, feeling his cock throb desperately, balls tightening against my chin. I moaned around his cock, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, the vibration making him groan louder, hips jerking forward.
"Sudha... your mouth... it is too good... I cannot... I am going to cum..."
I pulled off slowly, lips gliding up his cock, tongue flicking the head one last time, tasting the heavy pre-cum, then released him completely. His cock stood throbbing, glistening with my saliva, head dark and swollen, pre-cum dripping in thick strings from the slit. He shivered violently, body shaking with denied release, eyes glazed with pleasure.
"Not yet, Daddy," I whispered, looking up at him. "I want to feel you inside my pussy when you cum. Not in my mouth. I want you to fill me. I want you to claim me completely."
He groaned, cock twitching hard in the air. "Sudha... you tease me so cruelly... but I love it... I love you... I want you... I need you..."
I stood slowly, pressing my body against his, boobs in the white bra crushing against his chest, pussy lips pulsing inside the white panties against his thigh. "Then take me, Daddy. I am yours. My pussy is ready for you. Make me yours."
He hugged me tight, cock throbbing against my belly, body still shivering with extreme pleasure, forbidden desire burning hotter than ever.

[novelistcasanova]

I stood in front of Dad, my hands sliding behind my back to the white bra hooks. I unhooked the first clasp slowly, the white bra loosening just enough for the cups to shift slightly against my boobs. I unhooked the second clasp, then paused, letting the straps slip down my shoulders inch by inch, the cups clinging stubbornly to my boobs before I unhooked the third clasp. The white bra cups peeled away gradually, revealing the undersides of my boobs first, the heavy mounds spilling forward slowly, nipples hard and dark, pointing forward proudly. I let the white bra slide off my arms completely, dropping it to the floor, my boobs bouncing free, quivering with the motion, nipples throbbing in the cool air.

Dad's cock throbbed hard in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, eyes locked on my bare boobs, breath coming in sharp gasps. "Sudha... those boobs... God... they are perfect... so full... so heavy... look at those nipples... hard for me..."
I cupped my boobs, lifting them slightly, squeezing the full mounds gently, thumbs circling my nipples in slow, deliberate strokes, making them stand out even more. "You like my boobs, Daddy? They are all yours. Watch how they bounce when I move... watch how hard my nipples get for you."
His hand moved faster on his cock, pre-cum leaking steadily from the head. "Sudha... you are killing me... those boobs... I want to suck them... I want to feel them in my mouth..."
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my white panties, tugging them down slowly over my hips, sliding the cotton over my ass cheeks inch by inch, bending forward slightly so my boobs hung heavy and swayed, nipples pointing down toward him. The damp crotch peeled away from my pussy lips, strings of slickness stretching between the cotton and my outer pussy lips before snapping. I pushed the white panties down my thighs, letting them slide past my knees, stepping out one foot at a time, kicking them aside slowly. My pussy was bare now, outer pussy lips plump and glistening, inner pussy lips dark pink and wet, clit erect and throbbing, slickness dripping down my inner thighs.
Dad groaned louder, hand pumping his cock desperately, body trembling. "Sudha... that pussy... so wet... so beautiful... you are showing me everything... your pussy lips... your clit... God, I want to taste you..."
I spread my thighs wider, fingers sliding down to spread my outer pussy lips, showing him the slick inner pussy lips and throbbing clit. "Look at my pussy, Daddy. See how wet it is for you. See how my clit throbs when you watch. Stroke your cock harder. I want you to see everything. I want you to want me more."
He stroked his cock faster, balls tightening, pre-cum dripping from the head in thick strings. "Sudha... you filthy girl... your pussy is dripping... your boobs bouncing... I cannot stop staring... you are driving me crazy..."
I pinched my nipples, squeezing my boobs, then ran my fingers down my stomach to my pussy, rubbing my clit slowly in front of him. "Good, Daddy. Go crazy for me. Watch your dirty daughter play with her pussy. Stroke your cock while you watch. I love seeing you like this. Hard and leaking for me."
Dad groaned louder, hand pumping his cock desperately, body shaking. "Sudha... my little whore... I want to fuck that pussy... I want to fill you... you are too much... too perfect... I love watching you... I love you..."
I stepped closer, boobs bouncing, pussy lips glistening, fingers still rubbing my clit. "Then come and take it, Daddy. Fuck your whore daughter. Fill my pussy with your cock. I want it. I want you inside me. Now."
His cock throbbed hard in his hand, pre-cum dripping steadily, eyes glazed with lust and emotion. "Sudha... yes... my filthy girl... I cannot wait... I need you... I need your pussy..."
We stood there, me naked and teasing him with my body, him stroking his cock, dirty words and forbidden love filling the room, desire burning hotter than ever.



Dad cradled me in his arms, one hand under my knees, the other supporting my bare back, lifting me easily against his naked chest. My bare boobs pressed against his bare chest, nipples rubbing with every movement as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently on the mattress, then climbed over me, our naked bodies aligning, his cock hard and throbbing against my thigh as he hugged me tight.
We rolled together on the bed, arms and legs tangling, naked bodies pressed close. He kissed my lips passionately, tongue sliding deep into my mouth, tasting me hungrily while his hands roamed my bare back, squeezing my ass cheeks firmly, fingers digging into the round mounds. I kissed him back, tongue swirling around his, moaning into his mouth, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, lips sucking his tongue, tasting the warmth of him.
He broke the kiss, lips moving down my neck, sucking the skin gently, tongue tracing wet lines along my collarbone. He kissed lower, lips sealing around one nipple, tongue swirling slow circles over the hard nipple, sucking it into his mouth, teeth grazing lightly. I arched my back, boobs pushing up into his face, moaning louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm. He switched to the other nipple, sucking harder, tongue flicking the sensitive tip, hands squeezing my boobs together, thumbs rubbing the wet nipples after his mouth left them.
His lips continued down my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel, swirling slow wet circles inside the deep dip, tasting the slight saltiness there. He kissed lower, lips brushing my hips, tongue tracing the line where my thighs met my body, sucking gently on the soft inner thighs, tasting the slickness that had leaked from my pussy lips. I spread my thighs wider, pussy lips parting, outer pussy lips plump and glistening, inner pussy lips dark pink and wet, clit erect and throbbing.
Dad groaned against my inner thigh, tongue sliding along the crease, tasting my juices, then moved to my pussy. His lips kissed my outer pussy lips softly, tongue flicking out to trace the plump folds, tasting the slickness coating them. He sucked one outer pussy lip into his mouth, tongue swirling over it, then the other, lips pulling gently. His tongue dipped between my pussy lips, gliding along the inner pussy lips, tasting every inch of the wet slit, then circled my clit slowly, tongue pressing flat against the swollen clit, rubbing in firm circles. I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips bucking up into his face, boobs heaving, nipples hard and aching.
"Daddy... yes... your tongue on my pussy... licking my clit... it feels so good... do not stop... taste your girl's pussy..."
He groaned against my pussy, tongue thrusting deeper between my pussy lips, sliding into my wet pussy, tasting the slickness inside, then back up to circle my clit faster, lips sucking the swollen clit gently. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks, lifting my hips slightly, tongue plunging in and out of my pussy, then flicking my clit rapidly. My pussy lips pulsed around his tongue, slickness coating his chin, clit throbbing under his mouth.
I rolled us again, pushing him onto his back, straddling his chest. I kissed down his body, lips trailing over his chest, tongue flicking his nipples, sucking each one hard, teeth grazing lightly. I moved lower, kissing his stomach, tongue circling his navel, tasting the salt of his skin. My boobs dragged along his body with every kiss, nipples hard and rubbing against him, leaving wet trails from my mouth.
I reached his cock, lips brushing the swollen head, tongue flicking the slit to taste the pre-cum, salty and warm. I kissed the head passionately, lips sealing around it, tongue swirling slow circles over the smooth tip, tasting every drop leaking from the slit. I sucked the head gently, lips pulling softly, tongue rubbing the sensitive underside, then took more of his cock into my mouth, lips sliding down the thick cock, tongue pressing flat along the underside, feeling every vein throb against my tongue. My mouth filled with his taste—salty pre-cum, warm skin, the musky scent of his arousal. I bobbed slowly, lips gliding up and down his cock, sucking harder on the upstroke, tongue swirling around the head each time, feeling the cock swell thicker in my mouth, veins pulsing, pre-cum coating my tongue in steady leaks.
Dad shivered with extreme pleasure, hips bucking slightly into my mouth, hands in my hair. "Sudha... your mouth on my cock... so warm... so wet... I love you... my girl... you are perfect..."
I moaned around his cock, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, the vibration making him groan louder, hips jerking forward. "I love your cock, Daddy. I love tasting you. I love making you feel good. Cum for me soon... but not yet. I want you inside my pussy."
We rolled again, bodies tangled, kisses and licks everywhere, his tongue back on my pussy, my mouth on his cock, naked bodies pressed close, passionate foreplay consuming us completely, love and lust burning hotter with every touch.

[novelistcasanova]

Dad knelt between my spread thighs on the bed, his hands gently pushing my knees wider apart, opening my pussy fully to his gaze. His eyes locked on my bare pussy, breath coming in ragged bursts, cock throbbing hard against his stomach, pre-cum dripping steadily from the swollen head.

He stared at my pussy for a long moment, fingers trembling as he traced the outer pussy lips lightly, not touching yet, just admiring. "Sudha... look at your young pussy... so beautiful... so perfect. Your outer pussy lips are plump and smooth, full like ripe fruit, glistening with your wetness. Your inner pussy lips peek out dark pink and delicate, so soft and inviting, coated in slickness that drips down to your asshole. Your clit... God, your clit is swollen and erect, standing proud at the top, throbbing like it is begging to be touched. This pussy... my daughter's pussy... it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. So young, so tight, so ready for me."
I moaned softly, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips lifting slightly toward his face. "Daddy... tell me more... tell me how much you love my pussy... how much you want it..."
He leaned closer, breath hot against my pussy lips, eyes still fixed on every detail. "Your pussy smells so sweet... musky and fresh... like honey and desire mixed together. I can see every fold of your inner pussy lips, wet and shining, opening just enough to show how tight you are inside. Your clit is so sensitive... it twitches when I breathe on it. This pussy was made for me, Sudha. It is mine to kiss, to lick, to fill."
His hands moved to my ass cheeks, squeezing the round mounds gently, spreading them wider to expose my asshole. His eyes darkened with lust as he stared at the tight ring. "And your asshole... so small and perfect... pink and puckered, so clean and tight... it winks when you clench. I love how it hides between your beautiful ass cheeks, waiting for me to touch it, to taste it. Your asshole is as gorgeous as your pussy, Sudha. So young, so innocent, yet so tempting."
I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pussy lips pulsing under his gaze, slickness dripping down to coat my asshole. "Daddy... yes... look at my pussy and asshole... they are yours. Kiss them. Taste them. Make me feel good."
He groaned, cock twitching hard against the bed. "Sudha... you are perfect... every part of you... I am the luckiest man alive to see this... to touch this... I love you so much..."
I reached down, spreading my pussy lips wider with my fingers, showing him everything. "Then take it, Daddy. Kiss your girl's pussy. Lick my clit. Taste how wet I am for you. I want your mouth on me. I want you to enjoy every inch."
Dad leaned in, lips brushing my outer pussy lips first, soft kisses along the plump folds, then tongue flicking out to taste the slickness. He groaned against my pussy, tongue sliding between my pussy lips, licking my inner pussy lips slowly, savoring every drop. His tongue circled my clit, pressing flat against it, rubbing in firm circles, then flicking rapidly over the swollen clit. I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips bucking up into his face, boobs heaving, nipples hard and aching.
"Daddy... your tongue... on my clit... it feels so good... lick me more... taste your girl's pussy..."
He sucked my clit gently into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, lips pulling softly, then thrust his tongue deep into my pussy, tasting the slickness inside, groaning with pleasure. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks, lifting my hips higher, tongue plunging in and out, then back to my clit, licking faster, sucking harder. My pussy lips pulsed around his tongue, clit throbbing under his mouth, slickness coating his chin.
I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. "Yes, Daddy... eat my pussy... make me cum with your tongue... I love you... I love your mouth on me..."
He groaned against my pussy, tongue working faster on my clit, fingers spreading my ass cheeks wider, one finger rubbing my asshole lightly, circling the tight ring. I arched, boobs bouncing, pussy clenching around his tongue, pleasure building fast.
We stayed like that, his mouth devouring my pussy, my moans filling the room, forbidden love and lust consuming us completely.



Dad spread my thighs wider with gentle hands, opening my pussy fully to his gaze. He stared at my bare pussy for a long moment, breath coming in ragged bursts, cock throbbing hard against his stomach, pre-cum dripping steadily from the swollen head.
"Sudha... your young pussy... it is so beautiful," he whispered, voice thick with emotion and lust. "Your outer pussy lips are plump and smooth, full and pink like ripe petals, glistening with your wetness. Your inner pussy lips peek out dark pink and delicate, so soft and inviting, coated in slickness that drips down to your asshole. Your clit... God, your clit is swollen and erect, standing proud at the top, throbbing like it is begging to be touched. This pussy... my daughter's pussy... it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. So young, so tight, so ready for me."
I moaned softly, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips lifting slightly toward his face. "Daddy... tell me more... tell me how much you love my pussy... how much you want it..."
He leaned closer, breath hot against my pussy lips, eyes still fixed on every detail. "Your pussy smells so sweet... musky and fresh... like honey and desire mixed together. I can see every fold of your inner pussy lips, wet and shining, opening just enough to show how tight you are inside. Your clit is so sensitive... it twitches when I breathe on it. This pussy was made for me, Sudha. It is mine to kiss, to lick, to fill."
His hands moved to my ass cheeks, squeezing the round mounds gently, spreading them wider to expose my asshole. His eyes darkened with lust as he stared at the tight ring. "And your asshole... so small and perfect... pink and puckered, so clean and tight... it winks when you clench. I love how it hides between your beautiful ass cheeks, waiting for me to touch it, to taste it. Your asshole is as gorgeous as your pussy, Sudha. So young, so innocent, yet so tempting."
I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pussy lips pulsing under his gaze, slickness dripping down to coat my asshole. "Daddy... yes... look at my pussy and asshole... they are yours. Kiss them. Taste them. Make me feel good."
He groaned, cock twitching hard against the bed. "Sudha... you are perfect... every part of you... I am the luckiest man alive to see this... to touch this... I love you so much..."
I reached down, spreading my pussy lips wider with my fingers, showing him everything. "Then take it, Daddy. Kiss your girl's pussy. Lick my clit. Taste how wet I am for you. I want your mouth on me. I want you to enjoy every inch."
Dad leaned in, lips brushing my outer pussy lips first, soft kisses along the plump folds, then tongue flicking out to trace the slick outer pussy lips, tasting the juices coating them. He sucked one outer pussy lip into his mouth, tongue swirling over it, then the other, lips pulling gently. His tongue dipped between my pussy lips, gliding along the inner pussy lips, tasting every inch of the wet slit, then circled my clit slowly, tongue pressing flat against the swollen clit, rubbing in firm circles. I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips bucking up into his face, boobs heaving, nipples hard and aching.
"Daddy... your tongue... on my clit... it feels so good... lick me more... taste your girl's pussy..."
He groaned against my pussy, tongue thrusting deeper between my pussy lips, sliding into my wet pussy, tasting the slickness inside, then back up to circle my clit faster, lips sucking the swollen clit gently. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks, lifting my hips slightly, tongue plunging in and out of my pussy, then flicking my clit rapidly. My pussy lips pulsed around his tongue, clit throbbing under his mouth, slickness coating his chin.
The tension built slowly, my thighs trembling, boobs heaving faster, nipples aching, pussy clenching around his tongue. I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips grinding against his face, pleasure coiling tight in my belly.
"Daddy... I am close... your tongue on my clit... do not stop... make me cum... please..."
He sucked my clit harder, tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen clit, fingers squeezing my ass cheeks, lifting me higher. The tension snapped, pleasure exploding through me.
Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm I moaned as I was about to cum.
The moment he inserted his tongue deep inside my pussy  and began tongue fucking me vigorously, I could not hold it anymore “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... aaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” I moaned and began cumming all over his tongue, pussy spasming, juices flooding his mouth, clit pulsing hard under his sucking lips.
He kept licking slowly through my orgasm, tongue gentle on my sensitive pussy lips and clit, tasting every drop of my cum, groaning with pleasure.
We stayed like that, his mouth on my pussy, my body trembling with aftershocks, forbidden love and lust consuming us completely.




Dad knelt between my spread thighs, his hands gently pushing my knees wider apart, opening my pussy fully to his gaze. He stared at my bare pussy for a long moment, breath coming in ragged bursts, cock throbbing hard against his stomach, pre-cum dripping steadily from the swollen head.
"Sudha... your young pussy... it is so beautiful," he whispered, voice thick with emotion and lust. "Your outer pussy lips are plump and smooth, full and pink like ripe petals, glistening with your wetness. Your inner pussy lips peek out dark pink and delicate, so soft and inviting, coated in slickness that drips down to your asshole. Your clit... God, your clit is swollen and erect, standing proud at the top, throbbing like it is begging to be touched. This pussy... my daughter's pussy... it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. So young, so tight, so ready for me."
I nodded slowly, eyes fixed on his face, listening carefully as he spoke, hips still, body open and trusting under his gaze.
He leaned closer, breath hot against my pussy lips, eyes still fixed on every detail. "Your pussy smells so sweet... musky and fresh... like honey and desire mixed together. I can see every fold of your inner pussy lips, wet and shining, opening just enough to show how tight you are inside. Your clit is so sensitive... it twitches when I breathe on it. This pussy was made for me, Sudha. It is mine to kiss, to lick, to fill."
I nodded again, a soft moan escaping my lips, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, acknowledging his words, letting him guide me, body trembling slightly but remaining still, listening intently.
His hands moved to my ass cheeks, squeezing the round mounds gently, spreading them wider to expose my asshole. His eyes darkened with lust as he stared at the tight ring. "And your asshole... so small and perfect... pink and puckered, so clean and tight... it winks when you clench. I love how it hides between your beautiful ass cheeks, waiting for me to touch it, to taste it. Your asshole is as gorgeous as your pussy, Sudha. So young, so innocent, yet so tempting."
I nodded once more, eyes wide, taking in every word, pussy lips pulsing under his gaze, slickness dripping down to coat my asshole, body open and listening, trusting him completely as he explained.
He kissed my inner thighs first, lips brushing the soft skin close to my pussy, tongue flicking out to taste the slickness that had leaked down. He kissed higher, lips sealing around one inner thigh, sucking gently, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin, tasting my juices. Then the other inner thigh, lips pulling softly, tongue licking slow lines upward until he reached my pussy.
"Sudha... your pussy is so tight because you are a virgin," he murmured against my outer pussy lips, breath hot on my clit. "Your pussy walls are untouched, so narrow and snug... they will grip my cock very tightly when I push inside you. That is why I am getting your pussy wet first... so slick and slippery... so your pussy can take me without pain. I need to kiss you, lick you, make your pussy drip with wetness so it opens easily for my cock. I want your first time to feel good... I want you to feel only pleasure when my cock stretches your virgin pussy."
I nodded slowly, moaning softly, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips still, body listening and absorbing every word, trusting his guidance completely.
He kissed my outer pussy lips again, tongue tracing the plump folds, then dipped between them, gliding along my inner pussy lips, tasting every inch of the wet slit, then circled my clit slowly, tongue pressing flat against the swollen clit, rubbing in firm circles. I arched my back slightly, boobs heaving, nipples hard and aching, nodding in understanding as he continued.
"Your pussy is so tight... so warm... so perfect... when my cock enters you, it will stretch your pussy walls slowly... but first, I need your pussy dripping, lubricated with your juices... so my cock can slide in smoothly... so you feel only pleasure, not pain. I want my girl's first time to be good... I want you to cum while I am inside you... I want to fill your virgin pussy with my cum."
I nodded again, moaning softly, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, eyes locked on his face, listening intently, body open and ready, trusting him to guide me through every step.
He continued kissing my pussy and inner thighs, tongue tracing every sensitive spot, breath hot against my clit, preparing me slowly with his words and touch, building the tension between us as I listened and nodded, absorbing his explanation.

[novelistcasanova]

Dad positioned himself between my spread thighs, his hands gently holding my knees apart, cock hard and throbbing, head glistening with pre-cum. He leaned over me, aligning the swollen cock head with my pussy lips, the tip brushing my outer pussy lips lightly, coating itself in my slickness.

"Sudha... relax for me," he whispered, voice low and emotional. "Your pussy is so tight... I will go slow. Breathe with me."
I nodded, breathing heavy, boobs heaving, nipples hard and aching. "Yes, Daddy... I am ready... take me..."
He pushed forward slowly, the swollen cock head parting my outer pussy lips, stretching them open as it pressed against my virgin entrance. The pressure was intense—my pussy walls resisted at first, tight and untouched, the narrow opening clenching around the cock head as it eased inside inch by inch. My hymen stretched taut, a sharp sting blooming as the cock head pushed against the thin membrane, tearing it slowly with burning pressure. A small tear formed, sharp pain flaring for a moment, warm trickle of blood mixing with my slickness as the cock head broke through, stretching my pussy walls further. The sensation was sharp and burning at first, my pussy gripping the thick cock tightly, inner pussy lips spreading wide, the cock sliding deeper past the torn hymen, filling the virgin tightness with slow, aching fullness. Every vein along his cock rubbed against the sensitive inner flesh, the stretch intense, my pussy walls fluttering and clenching around the invading cock, the cock head reaching deep inside, pressing against untouched spots that made my clit throb and pussy lips pulse.
I gasped sharply at the tear, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, thighs trembling, boobs heaving, nipples aching as the cock filled me fully, balls resting against my ass cheeks, the thick cock buried deep inside my pussy, stretching the virgin walls to their limit, the small amount of blood mixing with my juices.
Dad held still inside me, cock throbbing against my pussy walls, voice soft. "Sudha... I am inside you... your pussy is so tight... gripping my cock so perfectly... does it hurt too much?"
I breathed through the sting, nodding slowly. "A little... but it is okay, Daddy... keep going... I want to feel you move... I love you..."
He began moving slowly, pulling his cock back slightly, the cock sliding against my stretched pussy walls, the torn hymen edges stinging with each motion, then pushing forward again, cock head pressing deep, stretching me anew with each gentle thrust. The initial burn faded into a deep, aching fullness, my pussy walls hugging every inch of his cock, slickness easing the motion, clit rubbing against his pubic bone with each slow push. My boobs bounced softly with his movements, nipples hard and aching, ass cheeks clenching under his hands as he held me steady.
"Sudha... your pussy feels so good around my cock... so tight... so warm... I love being inside you..."
I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Daddy... your cock... it fills me... so deep... so thick... I love it... I love feeling you inside my pussy..."
He thrust slowly, steadily, cock sliding in and out of my pussy, stretching me with each push, head pressing deep against my inner walls, balls slapping lightly against my ass cheeks. The pleasure built gradually, my pussy gripping his cock tighter with every thrust, clit throbbing against him, boobs bouncing, nipples aching, body trembling beneath him.



Dad kept his eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, never looking away as he thrust slowly into my pussy. His cock slid deep, stretching my virgin walls with every push, the thick cock rubbing against the tight inner flesh, head pressing against the deepest spots. My pussy clenched around him, gripping the cock tightly, slickness coating him as he moved, the torn hymen edges stinging faintly with each withdrawal but quickly melting into deep, aching fullness. The stretch was intense—my pussy walls fluttered and squeezed, hugging every vein, every inch of his cock, the pressure building heat and friction, clit throbbing against his pubic bone with each slow thrust.
I blushed hard, cheeks burning red under his gaze, heart pounding as he watched my face while fucking me. My boobs bounced softly with his rhythm, nipples hard and aching, thighs trembling around his waist. The pain lingered—a sharp, burning sting from the stretch—but it mixed with growing pleasure, my pussy pulsing around his cock, juices leaking down to my ass cheeks. I felt exposed, vulnerable, horny beyond words, his eyes holding mine making every thrust feel deeper, more intimate.
"Look at me, Sudha," he whispered, voice low and rough with emotion, cock pushing deep again, stretching my pussy walls. "Look into my eyes while I fuck your pussy... see how much I love you... how much I need you..."
I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, blushing deeper, eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "Daddy... your cock... it is so deep... stretching me... it hurts... but it feels so good... I love you watching me..."
He thrust steadily, cock sliding in and out, head pressing against my inner walls, balls slapping lightly against my ass cheeks. "Your pussy is so tight around my cock... gripping me so perfectly... I can see it in your eyes... the pain... the pleasure... the love... you are mine, Sudha... all mine..."
My cheeks burned hotter, blush spreading down my neck, boobs heaving, nipples aching as he fucked me slowly, deeply, never breaking eye contact. The pain from the stretch faded into throbbing pleasure, my pussy clenching harder around his cock, clit rubbing against him, slickness coating us both. I felt horny, overwhelmed, loved—his gaze making me feel completely claimed, completely wanted.
"Daddy... do not stop looking at me... fuck my pussy... make me yours... I love your cock inside me..."
He groaned, hips rolling deeper, cock filling me completely with each thrust. "I will not stop, Sudha... I love watching your face... watching your boobs bounce... watching your pussy take my cock... you are so beautiful... so perfect... I love you..."




Dad moved slowly inside me, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy with gentle, measured thrusts. Each push stretched my virgin pussy walls, the tight inner flesh gripping his thick cock like a vice, every vein along the cock rubbing against the sensitive lining as he filled me completely. My pussy was impossibly snug, the narrow channel clenching and fluttering around his cock, resisting and yielding at the same time, the torn hymen edges stinging faintly with each withdrawal but quickly melting into deep, aching pleasure as slickness coated him more. The cock head pressed against untouched spots deep inside, sending sharp jolts of pleasure-pain that made my pussy spasm, walls squeezing his cock tighter, milking him with every slow thrust.
My body responded in ways I had never felt before. My pussy walls trembled around his cock, every inch of the tight channel alive with new sensation—the burning stretch that slowly turned into a full, throbbing ache of pleasure, the way my inner pussy lips clung to his cock with each pull-back, then welcomed him again with a wet, hungry grip when he pushed forward. My clit pulsed hard against his pubic bone, swollen and sensitive, sending electric shocks through my belly every time he ground against it. My boobs bounced softly with his rhythm, nipples aching and hard, tingling as if connected directly to my pussy, every thrust making them feel heavier, more sensitive. My thighs quivered around his waist, inner muscles clenching involuntarily, trying to pull him deeper, while my ass cheeks tightened under his hands, the sensation of being filled so completely making my whole lower body hum with heat and need.
The fullness was overwhelming—my pussy felt stretched to its limit, every nerve ending awake, the pressure building deep inside like a slow-burning fire. Slickness leaked out around his cock, coating my asshole and dripping down, my pussy walls fluttering and spasming around him, gripping tighter with each thrust, the virgin tightness creating delicious friction that made every movement feel electric. My body loved the new feeling, craved it, even as the initial sting lingered—my pussy pulsed hungrily, clit throbbing, boobs heaving, every part of me awakening to the sensation of being claimed, filled, loved in the most intimate way.
He kept his eyes locked on mine, never looking away as he thrust slowly, deeply. "Sudha... tell me how it feels... tell me everything..." he whispered, voice low and rough with emotion.
I blushed hard, cheeks burning red under his gaze, heart pounding as he watched my face while fucking me. "Daddy... your cock... it stretches my pussy so much... the head pushes so deep... it hurts a little... but it feels so full... so good..." I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips rocking slightly to meet each thrust.
He thrust deeper, cock head pressing against the deepest part of my pussy, stretching the tight walls further. "More, Sudha... tell me... does it feel good when I push like this?"
"Yes... oh yes, Daddy... when you push deep... it presses right there... inside my pussy... it makes my clit throb... my pussy clenches around your cock... I feel every vein... every throb..." I gasped, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, boobs bouncing softly, nipples aching as the pleasure built.
He slowed, pulling almost out, cock head just inside my pussy lips, then pushed back in slowly, stretching me open again. "And now... when I slide in slow like this... how does your pussy feel?"
"It... it burns a little... from the stretch... but then it feels so full... so right... my pussy walls hug your cock... like they never want to let go... I love it, Daddy... I love feeling you move inside me..." I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, thighs trembling, pussy pulsing around his cock.
He thrust steadily, cock sliding in and out, head pressing deep against my inner walls, balls slapping lightly against my ass cheeks. "Your pussy is gripping me so tight... I can feel every flutter... tell me when it feels best..."
"When you go deep... right there... pressing against that spot... it makes my clit ache... my pussy clenches so hard... I feel like I am going to... going to..." I gasped, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pleasure coiling tighter, boobs heaving, nipples throbbing, pussy walls squeezing his cock rhythmically.
He kept the pace steady, cock filling me completely with each thrust, stretching my pussy walls, rubbing every sensitive spot inside. "You are so close, Sudha... I can feel your pussy pulsing... tell me... tell me how much you love my cock inside you..."
"I love it, Daddy... your cock fills me so perfectly... stretches my pussy... makes me feel so full... so wanted... so loved... please... keep going... take me to the edge..." I moaned, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, body trembling, pleasure rising relentlessly, pussy clenching harder around his cock, clit throbbing against him.
He thrust deeper, slower, cock head pressing that deep spot again and again, stretching my pussy walls, filling me completely. "You are mine, Sudha... your pussy is mine... feel me... feel how much I love you..."
I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, hips rocking to meet him, boobs bouncing, nipples aching, pussy gripping his cock tighter, pleasure building to the edge, body trembling with horny, painful, loving sensation, eyes locked on his, blushing under his gaze, completely open to him.



Dad kept thrusting slowly, deeply, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy with steady rhythm. Each push stretched my virgin pussy walls further, the tight inner flesh gripping his thick cock, every vein rubbing against the sensitive lining as he filled me completely. My pussy clenched harder around him with every thrust, slickness coating his cock, clit throbbing against his pubic bone, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in my belly like a spring about to snap.
My body craved him inside me more than anything. My pussy walls pulsed hungrily around his cock, fluttering and squeezing desperately, craving the hot, thick flood of his cum deep inside, coating every inch of my stretched channel, filling the virgin space until it overflowed. My clit ached with need, swollen and sensitive, every grind against him sending electric shocks that made my inner pussy lips spasm, slickness leaking out around his cock in thick trails down my ass cheeks. My boobs heaved with each breath, nipples hard and throbbing, tingling as if begging for his touch, my whole lower body trembling with the overwhelming urge to be bred, claimed, marked by him. My pussy clenched rhythmically, walls milking his cock, silently pleading for his release, for the warm rush of cum deep inside me, painting my pussy walls, dripping out around his cock as proof of our union.
The edge rushed closer, pleasure building unbearable, my pussy spasming around his cock, clit pulsing wildly.
Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm I moaned as I was about to cum.
"Daddy... please... cum inside my pussy... I need it... I need your cum deep inside me... fill me... breed me... please..." I begged, voice breaking with desperation, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, pussy clenching hard around his cock, tears in my eyes.
He groaned, thrusts faltering, cock still buried deep. "Sudha... no... I cannot... I cannot cum inside you... you are not protected... I cannot make you pregnant... I cannot risk that..."
I moaned louder, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, pussy spasming around his cock, body shaking on the edge. "Daddy... please... I want it... cum inside my pussy... I need your cum filling me... I want to feel you spill deep inside... please... I am begging you... cum in me..."
He pulled back slightly, cock head still inside my pussy lips, throbbing, fighting to hold back. "Sudha... my girl... I want to... God, I want to fill you... but I cannot... it is too dangerous... I love you too much to risk getting you pregnant..."


The edge rushed closer, pleasure building unbearable, my pussy spasming around his cock, clit pulsing wildly.
Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm I moaned as I was about to cum.
"Daddy... please... cum inside my pussy... I need it... I need your cum deep inside me... fill me... please..." I begged, voice breaking with desperation, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, pussy clenching hard around his cock, tears in my eyes.
He groaned, thrusts faltering, cock still buried deep. "Sudha... no... I cannot... I cannot cum inside you... you are not on anything... I cannot risk getting you pregnant... I cannot..."
I hugged him tight, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, pressing my boobs against his chest, nipples rubbing against him as I began kissing his lips passionately. My tongue thrust deep into his mouth, tasting him hungrily, lips sucking his tongue, moaning into the kiss, Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm, body trembling on the brink.
"Daddy... I love you... so much... cum inside me... please... I want your cum... I want to feel you fill my pussy... I love you... cum inside your girl..." I whispered against his lips between kisses, tongue swirling with his, body shaking with need.
The moment I hugged him tight, kissed his lips passionately, and begged him to cum inside me, he groaned into my mouth, cock throbbing hard inside my pussy.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” he moaned and came deep inside my pussy.
I could not hold it anymore “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... aaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” I moaned and began cumming all over his cock, pussy spasming hard, walls clenching around his cock as he filled me with hot spurts of cum, juices flooding around his cock, clit pulsing wildly, body shaking with intense release.
His cock pulsed deep inside my pussy, pumping thick ropes of cum against my inner walls, filling the stretched channel completely, cum overflowing slightly around his cock, dripping down to my ass cheeks. My pussy milked every drop, walls fluttering around him, clit throbbing as waves of pleasure crashed through me, boobs heaving, nipples aching, tears of emotion and ecstasy mixing on my cheeks.
We stayed locked together, his cock still buried deep inside my pussy, cum leaking slowly out around him, bodies trembling, hearts pounding, forbidden love and release consuming us completely.

[novelistcasanova]

Thank you for another super story Cassanova! The title page pic is also super hot!!
story started off with a different scene and suddenly switched to incest which the title suggests.. both story lines are good.. but the cut between the two seems a bit odd.. also can avoid mentioning the color of the panties each time.. only one or two mention is enough.. more than that spoils the reading experience.. not sure if it is intentional or automatic formatting issue in xossipy

Thank you for you feedback.  I will work on it and correct my mistakes 

[novelistcasanova]

Dad stayed buried deep inside my pussy, his cock still throbbing with the last pulses of his release, thick cum leaking slowly out around his cock and dripping down my ass cheeks. His body trembled against mine, arms wrapped tight around me, face buried in my neck as the high faded. For a long moment we just breathed together, hearts pounding in sync, my pussy walls fluttering weakly around his softening cock, slickness and cum mixing inside me.

Then the guilt hit him hard.
He pulled back slightly, cock slipping free from my pussy with a wet sound, cum trickling out of my stretched pussy lips and down my inner thighs. His eyes filled with tears, face twisting with shame as he looked down at me—naked, flushed, boobs heaving, pussy glistening with our combined fluids, the evidence of what we had just done smeared between us.
"Sudha... what have I done?" he whispered, voice cracking, hands shaking as he cupped my face. "I came inside you... my own daughter... I filled your pussy with my cum... God forgive me... I am a monster..."
I reached up, holding his face gently, thumbs wiping his tears. "Daddy... no... do not say that. You did not force me. I wanted it. I begged you. I love you... I wanted your cum inside me..."
He shook his head, tears falling onto my boobs. "You are so young... so innocent... I should have stopped. I should have pulled out. Now you might... you might get pregnant... because of me... because I could not control myself..."
His voice broke completely, body curling in on itself as he sat back on his heels, cock now soft against his thigh, still glistening with our juices. "I am so sorry, Sudha... I ruined you... I ruined everything..."
I sat up quickly, wrapping my arms around him, pressing my naked boobs against his chest, pussy still leaking his cum onto the sheets. "Daddy... look at me. You did not ruin me. You loved me. I love you. I wanted this. I wanted your cock inside me. I wanted your cum filling my pussy. I still do."
He hugged me back tightly, face buried in my hair, body shaking with sobs. "Sudha... I love you more than anything... but I hate myself right now. I should have been stronger... I should have protected you... instead I took your virginity... filled your pussy... what kind of father does that?"
I pulled back just enough to kiss his forehead, then his lips softly. "The kind who loves his daughter more than anything. The kind who makes me feel safe, wanted, loved. I do not regret it, Daddy. Not one second. My pussy still feels you... still feels your cum inside me... and I love it."
He looked at me, eyes red and wet, guilt warring with lingering desire. "Sudha... if you get pregnant... if this changes everything... I will never forgive myself."
I took his hand, placed it on my lower stomach, over my navel. "If it happens... we will face it together. But right now... right now I just want to feel you hold me. I want to feel loved. I want to feel like yours."
He pulled me close again, hugging me tightly, bodies pressed together, cum still leaking from my pussy onto his thigh, tears mixing with soft kisses on my hair, my cheeks, my lips. The guilt weighed heavy on him, but he held me like I was the only thing keeping him together.


Dad pulled me gently to my feet, his arms wrapping around my naked body one last time before he guided me toward the bathroom. His face was still wet with tears, eyes heavy with guilt, but his touch was careful, tender, like he was handling something fragile he had already broken.
He filled the old copper bucket with water from the well tap, testing it with his hand until it was warm enough from the afternoon sun. He sat me on the small wooden stool in the corner of the bathroom, kneeling in front of me. He took the plastic mug, dipping it into the bucket, and poured the warm water over my shoulders slowly, letting it cascade down my bare boobs and back, washing away the sweat and cum that had dried on my ass cheeks and inner thighs.
"Sudha... we should not talk about this ever again," he said quietly, voice thick with emotion, hands gently pouring water over my boobs, watching it run between the mounds and down my stomach. "What happened... it stays between us. We forget it. We go back to how things were. I should never have let it happen. I should never have touched you like that."
I nodded slowly, letting the water run over my face and hair, washing away the tears and the evidence of our intimacy. "Okay, Daddy... I will not talk about it. I promise."
He dipped the mug again, pouring water over my navel, then lower, the warm stream running between my thighs, cleaning my pussy lips carefully. "This was my fault. I am your father. I should have stopped. I should have protected you. Now... we forget. We never speak of it. We act normal. I cannot live with myself if anyone finds out."
I nodded again, eyes on his face, listening to every word, trusting him even as guilt weighed on him. He poured water over my ass cheeks, hands gentle on the round mounds, then my thighs, making sure every part of me was clean. The warm water soothed the slight soreness between my thighs, washing away the physical traces, but the emotional weight stayed heavy on him.
He took the scrub, dipping it in the soapy water, and scrubbed me gently—starting with my shoulders, then down my back, the coarse fibers cleaning my skin without hurting. He scrubbed my boobs carefully, the scrub brushing over my nipples softly, then my stomach and navel, moving lower to my thighs and between them, cleaning my pussy lips and ass cheeks with tender care. He rinsed me again with mugfuls of water, pouring slowly, letting it wash away the soap and the last traces of what had happened.
He helped me stand, taking a dry towel, and dried me slowly—patting my hair, my shoulders, my boobs, toweling each mound carefully, then my stomach, hips, thighs, and between my thighs, making sure I was completely dry.
He helped me step into fresh white panties, sliding them up my thighs, settling the cotton against my pussy lips snugly. Then the white bra, guiding my arms through the straps, hooking it behind, cups hugging my boobs softly. He slipped my white shirt over my shoulders, buttoning it carefully, then my navy blue skirt, tying the knot low on my hips.
Finally, he pulled me close, hugging me tight against his chest, kissing my forehead tenderly, holding me for a long moment. "I love you, Sudha. More than anything. We move forward. We forget this ever happened. Promise me."
I nodded against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his arms, the quiet strength beneath the guilt. "I promise, Daddy. I love you too."
He kissed my forehead again, lingering, his love pouring through the simple touch, raw and real, even as he tried to bury what had just happened.
We stepped out of the bathroom together, the air between us heavy with unspoken promises and hidden truth, but for now, we held each other close, father and daughter once more, the bond between us stronger and more complicated than ever.



Luckily, I did not get pregnant. The fear that had haunted Dad after that night slowly faded when my period came on time. He never spoke of it again, but I could see the relief in his eyes every time he looked at me—quiet, unspoken gratitude that nothing permanent had come from our moment of weakness.
From that day forward, something shifted between us. The guilt that had weighed on him never fully left, but it transformed into something deeper: a fierce, protective love that made him even more devoted. I felt proud—deeply, quietly proud—that I had lost my virginity to the best man in the entire world. My dad. The one who had always put me first, who had sacrificed everything for me. That single night did not break us; it bound us closer in ways words could never explain.
We never crossed that physical line again. There was no more touching, no more forbidden kisses. But the emotional closeness grew stronger than ever. Dad became even more attentive, more present. If I needed anything—books for college, new clothes, money for a trip with friends—he never hesitated. He would work extra hours at the rice mill, skip his own rest, just to make sure I had what I wanted.
I started doing the same for him. When he came home tired from the mill, I would make his favorite tea exactly how he liked it—strong, with two spoons of sugar, no milk—and sit with him while he drank it in silence, just being there. If he mentioned his back hurt from lifting sacks, I would heat water and massage his shoulders until he relaxed. If he needed help with accounts or paperwork for Sudha Rice Mill, I stayed up late with him, organizing everything neatly so he could rest earlier.
One evening he came home exhausted, face lined with worry about a late payment from a buyer. I sat beside him, took his hand, and said quietly, "Daddy, whatever it is, we will handle it together. You do not have to carry everything alone anymore."
He looked at me, eyes softening, and squeezed my hand. "Sudha... you have always been my strength. I do not know what I would do without you."
I smiled. "You will never have to find out. I am here. Always."
From then on, our bond felt unbreakable. He would do anything for me—no question, no hesitation. And I would do anything for him. If he asked me to stay home instead of going out with friends, I would. If he needed me to help at the mill on a busy day, I would drop everything. If he simply needed someone to sit with him in silence after a long day, I would be there without him even having to ask.
We never spoke of that one night, but it lived between us like a silent promise: no matter what, we belonged to each other. Father and daughter. Protector and protected. Two souls tied together by love that went beyond words, beyond rules, beyond anything the world could understand or judge.
Our days filled with small, everyday acts of devotion. I would cook his favorite meals without being asked. He would surprise me with little gifts—a new book, a bracelet, a flower from the garden—just because he saw it and thought of me. We laughed together, worried together, prayed together. Every time he looked at me, I could feel his love—quiet, steady, unbreakable. And every time I looked at him, I knew I would never say no. Not to him. Never to my dad.


Other than my dad, the man who loved me just as deeply—maybe even more fiercely in his own quiet way—was Arjun from college.
Arjun was everything I pretended not to notice at first. Tall, calm, always sitting in the back row like me, but never staring like the other boys. He looked at me with patience, with kindness, with something real that made my heart skip even when I tried to ignore it. He loved me openly but gently—waiting for me after class, offering his notes when I missed something, carrying my bag when it was heavy, bringing me water on hot days without being asked. He left small notes in my desk—simple words like "You looked happy today" or "Hope your day is good." He never pushed, never demanded. He just loved me, even when I made it impossible for him.
I was cruel to him in the beginning. When he tried to talk to me, I rolled my eyes and walked away. When he confessed his feelings in a quiet corner of the library, I laughed in his face. "You think you can have me? You think you are good enough?" I insulted him in front of our friends, called him desperate, pathetic, a nobody. One day when he reached for my hand after class, I slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the corridor. "Do not touch me. You are nothing."
He never fought back. He never stopped loving me. He just kept being there—silent, steady, constant.
He was there for me every time I needed someone. When I had a high fever and could not walk from the classroom to the hostel, Arjun carried me on his back the entire way, never complaining, never asking for anything in return. Another time, when I got into a bad fight with my best friend and felt completely alone, he sat with me under the big banyan tree for hours, listening to me cry without judging, just holding my hand until I felt steady again.
The moment that changed everything was when he saved my life.
It happened during a college trip to the nearby hills. We were hiking along a narrow path above a steep drop. I slipped on loose gravel, lost my balance, and started falling toward the edge. Arjun reacted instantly—he grabbed my wrist with one hand and my waist with the other, pulling me back from the brink with all his strength. He held me against his chest until my shaking stopped, whispering, "I have got you, Sudha. You are safe. I will never let anything happen to you." I clung to him, heart racing, realizing in that moment how much he truly loved me—enough to risk his own life without hesitation.
After that, I could not ignore him anymore. His love was real. Steady. Unbreakable. He did not try to replace Dad—he never asked me to choose. He just loved me as I was, with all my loyalty to Dad, all my complications. Slowly, my walls came down. I started smiling at him, talking to him, letting him walk me home. One evening under the big banyan tree after college, I took his hand myself.
"Arjun... I am sorry for everything," I whispered. "I was scared... scared of letting anyone close when Dad is my whole world. But you... you never gave up on me."
He smiled softly. "I never will, Sudha. I love you. I will wait as long as you need."
I leaned in, resting my forehead against his. "I do not want you to wait anymore. I love you too. I want to be with you."
From that day, we became lovers. Quietly, secretly—because Dad could never know. Dad was possessive. He could not stand any man near me. Even seeing me talk to a male classmate made his jaw tighten, his eyes darken. If he saw me with a boy, he would ask questions, voice low and sharp. He could not bear the thought of anyone else being close to his daughter. So I kept Arjun hidden. We met in secret corners of the campus, stole moments after class, shared soft kisses when no one was watching. Our love grew in the shadows—deep, real, unbreakable.
Arjun never asked to replace Dad. He respected that bond. He only wanted to be part of my life, to love me in his own way. And I loved him back—completely, truly. He became the second man who mattered most. Dad remained my first love, my protector, my everything. But Arjun became my future—my partner, my heart outside the home.
I had decided to live the rest of my life with him, with all the love I had. I wanted to marry him one day, build a life with him, grow old with him. His love had won me over—not by force, not by replacing Dad, but by being there, by being steady, by loving me exactly as I was. I knew I would never find another man who loved me the way Arjun did.
Two men who loved me completely. Two loves that did not compete, because one stayed hidden. And in my heart, there was room for both.





Other than my dad, the man who loved me just as deeply—maybe even more fiercely in his own quiet way—was Arjun from college.
Arjun was everything I pretended not to notice at first. Tall, calm, always sitting in the back row like me, but never staring like the others. He looked at me with patience, with kindness, with something real that made my heart skip even when I tried to ignore it. He loved me openly but gently—waiting for me after class, offering his notes when I missed something, carrying my bag when it looked heavy, bringing me water on hot days without being asked. He left small notes in my desk—simple words like "You looked happy today" or "Hope your day is good." He never pushed, never demanded. He just loved me, even when I made it impossible for him.
I was cruel to him in the beginning. When he tried to talk to me, I rolled my eyes and walked away. When he confessed his feelings in a quiet corner of the library, I laughed in his face. "You think you can have me? You think you are good enough?" I insulted him in front of our friends, called him desperate, pathetic, a nobody. One day when he reached for my hand after class, I slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the corridor. "Do not touch me. You are nothing."
He never fought back. He never stopped loving me. He just kept being there—silent, steady, constant. When I was sick, he brought medicine and waited outside my hostel room until I felt better. When I cried after a fight with friends, he listened without judgment. When I struggled with assignments, he stayed up late explaining everything patiently. He never asked for more than I was ready to give. He just loved me, even when I hurt him.
Slowly, his love broke through my walls. I started noticing how safe I felt around him, how his presence calmed me in ways no one else could. One evening after I had been especially harsh, he still waited for me outside the gate. I stopped, looked at him—really looked—and saw the quiet strength in his eyes, the same kind of love I felt from Dad.
"Arjun... I am sorry," I whispered. "I have been horrible to you."
He smiled softly. "I know. But I am still here."
I stepped closer, took his hand—the same hand I had slapped—and held it tight. "I do not want anyone to replace my dad. But... I think I am ready to let you love me. If you still want to."
He pulled me into a gentle hug, arms wrapping around me like I was something precious. "I have always wanted to, Sudha. I always will."
From that day, we became lovers. But I kept Arjun a complete secret from Dad. Dad was possessive—fiercely so. He could not stand any man near me. Even seeing me talk to a male classmate made his jaw tighten, his eyes darken. If he saw me with a boy, even innocently, he would ask questions, voice low and sharp. He could not bear the thought of anyone else being close to his daughter. So I never told him about Arjun. I never let them meet. I kept my love for Arjun hidden, locked away in stolen moments—walks after college, quiet talks under trees, soft kisses when no one was watching.
Dad never knew. And I made sure he never would. My love for Dad remained sacred, untouchable, the center of my world. Arjun became the secret second love—my future, my heart outside the home. Two men who loved me completely. Two loves that did not compete, because one stayed hidden.
Dad and I grew even closer in our own way. He would do anything for me—no question, no hesitation. And I would do anything for him. If he asked me to stay home instead of going out, I would. If he needed help at the rice mill, I would drop everything. If he simply needed someone to sit with him in silence after a long day, I would be there without him asking.
Our bond felt unbreakable. Father and daughter. Protector and protected. Two souls tied together by love that went beyond words, beyond rules, beyond anything the world could understand or judge.
And somewhere in the shadows, Arjun waited—loving me quietly, patiently, never asking to replace Dad, only to stand beside me in his own way.

[novelistcasanova]

My bond with Arjun grew stronger every day, quiet but unbreakable. He never asked for more than I could give, never pushed against the walls I still kept around my heart because of Dad. Instead, he simply stayed—steady, patient, loving me exactly as I was.

There were small moments that wove us closer. One rainy afternoon when the college bus broke down and I had no way home, Arjun walked with me under his umbrella for two kilometers through the downpour, holding it over me the entire way so I stayed dry while his shoulder got soaked. When I tried to thank him, he just smiled and said, "I would walk through any rain for you, Sudha."
Another time, during college fest preparations, I stayed late decorating the stage and twisted my ankle climbing a ladder. Arjun carried me on his back again, all the way to the first-aid room, then waited while the nurse bandaged me. He refused to leave until I was safely back in my hostel, even though it meant he missed his own group’s practice. "You are more important," he said simply, and I felt something inside me soften.
The strongest moment came during a college excursion to a nearby river. I had gone too close to the edge to take a photo, the ground gave way, and I started slipping toward the fast current below. Arjun lunged without hesitation—he grabbed my wrist with one hand and wrapped his other arm around my waist, hauling me back onto solid ground. We both fell backward onto the grass, his arms still around me, breathing hard. He held me for a long time after, whispering against my hair, "I have got you. You are safe. I will always catch you." I clung to him, heart racing, realizing he had literally saved my life twice now. In that moment, something inside me surrendered completely.
I loved him so much that I decided—quietly, deeply—that I would live the rest of my life with him. Not just as lovers, but as partners, as husband and wife one day. I wanted to wake up next to him every morning, to build a home with him, to grow old with him. His love had proven itself in every small act, every sacrifice, every time he chose me even when I did not deserve it. I knew no one else would ever love me the way Arjun did—selfless, steady, endless.
We spent evenings sitting on the low wall behind the college, hands linked, talking about the future. "One day," I whispered to him one night, "when the time is right, I want to marry you. I want to spend my whole life with you."
He looked at me, eyes shining. "I have wanted that since the first day I saw you, Sudha. I will wait as long as you need. I will be here. Always."
I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him, the safety of him. "I love you, Arjun. More than I ever thought I could love anyone besides my dad."
He kissed the top of my head gently. "I love you too. More than anything in this world."
Dad never knew. I kept Arjun hidden, because Dad’s love for me was possessive, fierce—he could not stand the thought of any man near me. But Arjun understood. He never asked to meet Dad, never pushed for more than the secret moments we stole. He loved me in the shadows, quietly, completely, and that only made me love him more.
Two men who loved me completely. Dad—my protector, my first love, my everything. Arjun—my future, my heart outside the home. Two loves that did not fight, because one stayed hidden. And in my heart, there was room for both.


While everything was going fine, talks about my marriage began in the house. Relatives visited more often, whispering about suitable boys from good families. Amma started looking at me with hopeful eyes, asking if I liked anyone. Dad listened quietly, but I could see the tension in his jaw—he never liked the idea of any man taking me away. The conversations made me tense every day. My heart raced whenever marriage was mentioned. How was I going to tell Dad that I was in love with Arjun? How could I explain that I wanted to spend my life with him? I was pretty sure Dad would not agree. He was possessive about me. He could not stand any man next to me. Even seeing me talk to a male classmate made his eyes darken, his voice sharp with questions. The thought of telling him about Arjun filled me with dread—I knew he would never allow it.
Amidst this, I noticed a sophisticated advocate from Chennai named Rajesh visiting our house regularly. Rajesh was filthy rich, powerful, and strikingly handsome. He always arrived alone in his expensive black car—a sleek, shining Mercedes that looked completely out of place on our dusty village roads, its glossy black paint reflecting the sun while our neighbors’ old bicycles and bullock carts looked small and worn beside it. He wore perfectly tailored black formal trousers and crisp white shirts that looked brand new every time, gold watch glinting on his wrist, expensive leather shoes polished to a mirror shine, hair neatly styled, clean-shaven face carrying an air of quiet authority and effortless wealth. His voice was smooth and confident, his manners polished. He carried himself like a man who owned everything he touched, everything around him, everything he looked at—including, sometimes, me.
Our house was simple—middle-class village home with mud walls, tiled roof, small veranda, no luxury. We lived modestly: Dad worked hard at Sudha Rice Mill, Amma managed the household, I went to college in second-hand kurtis and skirts. When Rajesh stepped out of that Mercedes, it was like another world had arrived. The car alone cost more than our entire house and land combined. He would park it right in front of our gate, engine purring softly while village children gathered at a distance, staring wide-eyed at the gleaming machine. Dad would come out, initially stiff and formal, greeting him with folded hands. Rajesh would smile politely, shake Dad’s hand firmly, and they would sit on the veranda discussing business, law cases, land deals.
At first, Dad kept conversations short, polite but distant—middle-class caution around someone so obviously wealthy. But slowly, Dad started talking more. Rajesh would invite Dad for rides in that expensive black car—Dad sitting in the passenger seat, the door closing with a solid, expensive thud, the car gliding away smoothly while our neighbors watched in awe. I watched from the window as Dad's face lit up during these rides, impressed by Rajesh's knowledge, his wealth, his connections in Chennai. Dad spoke of him with growing respect, mentioning how Rajesh handled big cases, dealt with crores, moved in high circles, how his car alone was worth more than everything we owned.
The contrast was stark. Our simple life—middle-class struggles, careful budgeting, patched clothes—against Rajesh's world of effortless luxury. Every time that Mercedes pulled up, dust swirling around its polished tires, it reminded me how small our world was, how big his was. Dad seemed dazzled by it, drawn to it, spending more time with Rajesh, accepting more rides, listening more closely.
Rajesh began asking Dad to show him around. Dad would take him to the rice mill, proudly introducing Rajesh to the local traders, explaining the business, pointing out the sacks of rice, the weighing scales, the workers. Dad would say things like, "This is my mill, Rajesh. These are the traders I work with—good, honest men." I watched Dad's pride as he presented his world to this rich man, even as Rajesh's expensive black car waited outside like a silent reminder of the gap between them.
I thought nothing of it. To me, Rajesh was just some rich man trying to have a business deal with Dad. We were middle-class—our house simple, our life modest. I ignored Rajesh completely—barely nodded when he greeted me, never lingered when he was around. My mind was on Arjun, on Dad, on the marriage talks that made my stomach knot every time they came up. I had no idea Rajesh was watching me more closely than I realized, his eyes lingering when he thought no one noticed.


My mom and dad always spoke about Rajesh in front of me. It started casually—over dinner, while Amma served rice and sambar, or during evenings on the veranda when the village quieted down.
Dad would lean back in his wooden chair, voice carrying a rare note of admiration. "That Rajesh... he is something else. He handles cases worth crores in Chennai. Big companies, big people. He knows everyone—ministers, businessmen, judges. And the way he talks... sharp, confident. He is not like these local lawyers. He has class. Real class."
Amma would nod, eyes wide, impressed. "Yes, he looks like a film star. So handsome, so well-dressed. That gold watch, those shoes... everything about him shines. And that black Mercedes car—when he parks it outside, the whole street stops to look. We are simple people, but Rajesh treats us with respect. He even asked about Sudha the other day—said she looks very cultured."
Dad would smile slightly, pride mixing with something else. "He is successful. Very successful. He told me his law firm has branches in Bangalore too. Deals with tech companies, real estate empires. He drives that expensive car like it is nothing. And he is polite—always greets properly, never shows off. But you can see the power. The money. The confidence."
Amma would add, voice soft but excited. "He is young, unmarried, good family background. Advocate, rich, handsome... such a catch. Any girl would be lucky."
Dad would nod slowly. "He is impressive. Very impressive. He took me around in that car again yesterday—showed me the city side of things. He knows how to live. How to succeed. I like talking to him. He has vision."
They spoke like this often—Dad praising Rajesh's success, his wealth, his manners; Amma impressed by his looks, his car, his status. I sat quietly, listening, tension building in my chest. Every mention of Rajesh made the marriage talks feel heavier, more real. I kept thinking about Arjun—my secret, my love—but I never dared say his name. Dad’s possessiveness was clear in every word he spoke about other men. He could not stand the thought of anyone else near me. The idea of introducing Arjun felt impossible.
I stayed silent, nodding politely when they looked at me, heart racing. Rajesh was just a rich man to me—someone Dad admired for business reasons. I ignored the way his name kept coming up, ignored the subtle shift in Dad’s tone when he spoke of him. I focused on Arjun, on stolen moments, on keeping my secret safe.
But the tension grew. The marriage talks were no longer distant. They were here, in our house, in every conversation. And Rajesh’s name was always part of them.



One evening after dinner, I was in my room studying when I heard my mom and my dad talking on the terrace. The door was slightly open, and their voices carried clearly through the quiet night. I stepped closer, standing just inside the doorway, hidden in the shadows, listening without them knowing.
A small campfire burned in an old steel bucket, the flames flickering low and warm, casting dancing shadows on their faces. My dad sat on a wooden bench, chewing betel leaves and nuts slowly, the red juice staining his lips as he spat occasionally into a small brass spittoon beside him. My mom sat next to him on a woven mat, her saree pallu tucked neatly, hands folded in her lap.
My dad took another mouthful of betel, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. "That Rajesh came again today. He brought some papers about a land deal in Chennai. Sharp man. Knows how to talk business. He handles cases worth crores in Chennai. Big companies, big people. He knows everyone—ministers, businessmen, judges. And the way he talks... sharp, confident. He is not like these local lawyers. He has class. Real class."
My mom nodded, eyes bright in the firelight. "Yes, he is impressive. Handsome too. Tall, fair, well-built. Always dressed so neatly—those black trousers, white shirt, polished shoes. And polite. Never raises his voice. When he comes, he greets us properly, asks about our health. He even asked about Sudha again today—said she looks very cultured, very beautiful. Such a good family background. Rich, powerful, unmarried... he would be a perfect match."
My dad chewed slowly, nodding. "I was thinking the same. He is successful. Very successful. He told me about his house in Chennai—big bungalow, servants, cars. He has connections everywhere—ministers, businessmen. He could give Sudha a good life. Comfortable life. Better than what we can provide here in the village."
My mom leaned forward slightly, voice gentle but firm. "We should talk to him about it. Ask if he is interested in marrying Sudha. He comes here often anyway. He seems to respect us. We can invite him for tea one day and bring up the topic. Or better—we can go to Chennai ourselves. See his house, meet his parents, talk properly. It is not good to delay these things. Sudha is nineteen now. Time to settle her future."
My dad stared into the fire for a long moment, chewing betel thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Yes... you are right. I will speak to him next time he comes. If he is interested, we can plan a trip to Chennai. See his family, his home. He is a good man. I think he would make Sudha happy."
My mom smiled, relieved. "Good. Let us do it soon. Sudha deserves the best. And Rajesh... he is the best we can find."
I stood frozen just inside the doorway, heart pounding so hard I thought they would hear it over the crackle of the fire. My hands clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms. My stomach twisted violently. Arjun. My Arjun. The man I loved. The man who loved me back. The man I had decided to spend my life with. And now my parents were talking about Rajesh—this rich, powerful stranger—as my future husband. My dad, who could not stand any man near me, was ready to give me away to someone else. Someone he admired. Someone with money and status.
I felt sick. Terrified. Shocked beyond words. My legs trembled, breath coming in short gasps. How was I going to tell them about Arjun? How was I going to explain that I loved a simple college boy from our own village, not a rich advocate from Chennai? My dad would never agree. He would be furious. He would see it as betrayal. He would forbid it. He would never let me marry Arjun.
I slipped back into my room silently, closing the door softly, heart racing, mind spinning. I sat on my bed, knees drawn up, staring into the darkness. Tears burned my eyes. The marriage talks were no longer distant—they were real. They were happening. And Rajesh was at the center of them. I felt trapped, helpless, terrified that my parents would force me into marrying him. That everything I had built with Arjun—our secret love, our promises, our future—would be torn away.
The small campfire crackled on the terrace, my parents' voices fading into quiet murmurs. I sat alone in the dark, heart heavy, mind racing, knowing the storm was coming and I had no idea how to stop it.



One morning my mom and my dad announced they were going to my aunty’s house in the neighboring village. They said they would be back tomorrow evening. My mom packed a small bag with clothes and some sweets for my aunty, while my dad checked the bus timings and counted money for the ticket. They both dressed simply—my mom in her usual cotton saree with matching blouse, my dad in his dhoti and shirt.
My mom turned to me while tying her pallu. "Sudha, we will be back tomorrow. Call your cousin and ask her to come stay with you tonight. Do not stay alone in the house. Lock the doors properly. Eat on time."
My dad nodded, adjusting his dhoti knot. "Yes. Your cousin will come. If anything happens, call us. We will return soon."
They left in the afternoon, walking to the bus stop together. I watched from the doorway as they disappeared down the road, my stomach already twisting. I knew they were lying. They were not going to my aunty’s house. They were going to Chennai to meet Rajesh and his family. I had overheard them planning it the previous night on the terrace—the trip, the meeting, the talk about marriage. They had not told me. They had not even hinted. They left me at home with a lie, thinking I did not know.
I felt terribly shocked. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. My hands shook as I closed the door. I was in love with Arjun. Completely. I had decided to spend my life with him. And now my parents were going to Chennai to see Rajesh’s house, to meet his parents, to discuss me marrying him. They were moving forward with a plan that did not include Arjun. That did not include what I wanted. That did not include my heart.
I paced the house alone, mind racing. My thighs still ached mildly from the memory of Dad inside me, but that was nothing compared to the terror gripping me now. If they liked Rajesh’s family, if they agreed... they would force me. Dad’s possessiveness would turn into determination. He would see Rajesh as the perfect match—rich, powerful, respected. He would never accept Arjun, a simple college boy with no wealth, no status. He would say no. He would forbid it. He would make sure I never saw Arjun again.
I sat on the bed, knees drawn up, tears burning my eyes. My cousin would come tonight—I would call her like they asked—but even that felt like a cage closing. I was alone with my secret love for Arjun, with my fear of losing him, with the knowledge that my parents were moving toward a future I did not want. I felt trapped, helpless, sick with worry. The house felt too quiet, too empty, too full of what I could not say.
I waited, tense and worried, knowing they were on their way to Chennai to meet Rajesh and his family, to look at his life, to decide mine—without ever asking me.



That same day my mom and my dad went to Chennai, I could not take the tension anymore. My heart felt crushed every time I thought about Rajesh and the marriage talks. I needed Arjun. I needed to tell him everything.
I called him on the phone in the afternoon when the house was empty. My voice shook as I spoke. "Arjun... come to my house right now. Please. It is urgent. No one is home."
He arrived quietly within thirty minutes, wearing his usual simple kurti top and trousers, looking worried. I let him in through the back door, checked that no neighbors were watching, then locked it behind us. We sat on the floor of my room, door closed, fan turning slowly overhead.
Before I could speak, Arjun told me he had brought his two closest friends—Vikram and Suresh—who were waiting outside. "They know about us. They want to help. Can they come in?"
I nodded, too tense to argue. They entered quietly—both in simple shirts and trousers, eyes immediately lighting up when they saw me sitting on the floor in my kurti top and leggings. Vikram was tall and broad, always smirking; Suresh shorter but intense, always watching me like he was imagining things he should not. Both were horny whenever they saw me with Arjun—their eyes lingered on my boobs pushing against the kurti top, on my thighs visible below the leggings, on the way my hips shifted when I moved. They never said it outright, but the way they stared, the way their breathing changed, told me they loved watching us together, loved imagining more.
I took a deep breath, hands trembling in my lap. "Arjun... my parents went to Chennai today. They told me they were going to my aunty’s house. But they lied. They went to meet Rajesh and his family. They are thinking of getting me married to him."
Arjun’s face paled. He reached for my hand, holding it gently. "Sudha... are you sure?"
I nodded, tears burning my eyes. "I overheard them planning it last night. My mom told my dad to speak to Rajesh about marrying me. My dad agreed. He said Rajesh is successful, rich, good family. They are planning to meet his parents properly. They want this marriage. And I know... I know my dad will never say no to it. He admires Rajesh. He thinks he is perfect for me."
Arjun squeezed my hand tighter, voice soft but steady. "Sudha... look at me."
I looked up, tears spilling down my cheeks. "Arjun... I cannot say no to my dad. If he tells me to marry Rajesh, I will have to. He is my dad. He has done everything for me. He will force me if he has to. And I love him too much to hurt him. But I love you... I want to be with you. I do not know what to do. I am scared. I am so scared."
Arjun pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight against his chest. "Do not worry, Sudha. Do not worry. I am here. We will find a way. I will not let you marry Rajesh. I will work on a plan. I will talk to my parents. We will figure this out. I promise. You will not have to marry anyone else. You will be with me. I will make it happen."
Vikram leaned forward, eyes gleaming, voice low and excited. "Arjun, listen. There is only one way to stop this. You must make love to Sudha. Fuck her. Cum deep inside her pussy. Make her pregnant. If she is carrying your child, her dad will have no choice. He will be forced to let you marry her. No one will want Rajesh after that. Do it soon—before they fix the wedding."
Suresh nodded eagerly, eyes fixed on me, breathing heavier. "Yes. And if that does not work fast enough, we can take pictures. Intimate pictures. You and Sudha together—naked, fucking, your cock inside her pussy, her boobs bouncing, her face full of pleasure. We show those to Rajesh. He will back off. No man wants a girl with photos like that circulating. We can watch... make sure everything is captured perfectly."
Both of them shifted closer, eyes hungry, almost drooling at the thought of watching me and Arjun together, of seeing my boobs bounce, my pussy stretched around Arjun’s cock, my moans filling the room. Their excitement was obvious—Vikram’s hand twitching toward his trousers, Suresh licking his lips, both breathing harder just imagining the scene.
I blushed hard, body tensing in Arjun’s arms, but Arjun held me tighter, voice firm. "No. We are not doing that. I love Sudha. I will not use her like that. I will not force anything. We will find another way. A clean way. I will not let anyone hurt her or shame her."
Vikram smirked. "You are too soft, Arjun. But if you change your mind... we are ready to help. We would love to see Sudha like that... moaning, taking your cock..."
Arjun shot them a hard look. "Enough. Leave. I will handle this."
They left reluctantly, still glancing back at me with hungry eyes. Arjun turned to me, cupping my face. "Do not listen to them. We will do this right. I promise."
I nodded, tears in my eyes, clinging to him. "I trust you, Arjun. I love you."
He kissed my forehead softly. "I love you too. We will get through this. Together."
He left quietly before my parents returned, slipping out the back door with one last look back at me.
I sat alone in the room, heart heavy but a little lighter knowing he was with me. Still, the fear stayed—my parents were moving forward with Rajesh, and I had no idea how to stop it without breaking my dad’s heart.




My mom and my dad returned home from Chennai the next evening. I heard the sound of the bus stopping at the village road, then their footsteps on the path. I watched from the window as they walked through the gate—my dad carrying a small cloth bag, my mom holding her saree pallu carefully against the evening breeze. They looked tired but calm, faces neutral, no excitement or nervousness showing. They did not mention Chennai at all.
My dad set the bag down on the veranda, loosened his dhoti knot slightly, and sat on the bench. My mom went inside to change her saree and start preparing dinner. They spoke only about small things—the bus was late, the road was dusty, they had eaten at a small hotel on the way back. No word about Rajesh, no word about meetings or families or marriage. They acted like it had been a normal visit to my aunty’s house, just as they had told me.
I watched them settle down—my dad chewing betel leaves quietly, my mom humming softly while cooking. Everything seemed ordinary. But I knew it was not. I knew where they had really been. The silence felt heavy, like they were hiding something big from me. My stomach stayed knotted the whole evening.
After dinner, when my dad went to the mill to check on something, my mom came to my room. She sat on the edge of my bed, her fresh saree still neatly pleated, blouse hugging her figure. She smiled gently, voice casual at first.
"Sudha... how was your day? Did your cousin come stay with you?"
I nodded. "Yes, Mom. Everything was fine."
She looked at me for a moment, then spoke softly. "You know... Rajesh is a very nice man. Rich, educated, polite. He has a good heart too. What do you think about him?"
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "He is... a nice rich man, Mom. Very sophisticated. Looks successful."
My mom nodded, smiling wider. "Yes, exactly. We met his mom in Chennai. She is a sweet lady. Very cultured. And Rajesh... he spoke so highly of you. He said you look beautiful and well-mannered. He has agreed to marry you. His mom also liked the idea. They want to move forward with the alliance."
My heart stopped. I stared at her, voice barely a whisper. "No, Mom... I cannot marry him."
My mom’s face changed instantly. Her smile disappeared, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean no? Rajesh is perfect for you! He is rich—lives in a big house in Chennai with servants, cars, everything. He travels by flight, eats in five-star hotels, wears expensive clothes. You would have a sophisticated lifestyle. No more struggling like us. You would wear silk sarees every day, gold jewelry, go to big parties. Your life would change completely. And your dad... Rajesh has promised to help him financially. The rice mill would grow. We would never have to worry about money again. Your dad would be respected in the village. Everyone would look up to us."
I shook my head, tears starting to burn my eyes. "Mom... Rajesh is a nice guy. He is rich, successful, handsome... but I do not love him. I love Arjun. I want to be with Arjun."
My mom’s face went pale, then red with anger. "Arjun? That poor low class boy? What do you know about love at nineteen? You are young, foolish! Arjun has nothing—no money, no status, no future. He cannot take care of you. He cannot give you anything. Rajesh can give you the world! You will live like a queen. Your children will go to best colleges, wear good clothes, never face hardship. Do you want to throw all that away for a boy who has nothing?"
I started crying, voice shaking. "Mom... I love Arjun. He loves me. He is good to me. He cares for me. Money is not everything. I cannot marry Rajesh. I cannot."
My mom stood up, voice rising. "You are talking nonsense! Love? What love? You think love fills your stomach? Pays the bills? Gives you security? Rajesh is perfect for you. Your dad has already agreed. We will fix this marriage. You will marry Rajesh. That is final."
I sobbed harder, shaking my head. "Mom... please... do not do this... I love Arjun... I cannot live without him..."
My mom’s voice turned sharp, almost yelling. "Enough! If I tell your dad about this Arjun, he will kill him. He will make sure that boy never comes near you again. Do you want that? Do you want your dad to ruin his life? Or yours? Listen to me. Listen to your dad. Marry Rajesh. Be sensible. Or you will regret it your whole life."
I cried uncontrollably, hugging my knees, begging. "Mom... please... do not tell Dad... please... I beg you... do not tell him about Arjun..."
My mom stared at me for a long moment, face hard. "Then stop this foolishness. Rajesh is perfect for you. Rich. Powerful. Respectable. He will give you a good life. Your dad will be happy. We will all be happy. Think about it. Do not ruin everything."
She turned and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
I collapsed on the bed, sobbing into my pillow, heart breaking. My parents wanted me to marry Rajesh. They were moving forward. They did not know about Arjun. And if they found out... my dad would destroy him. I felt trapped, terrified, alone. The future I wanted with Arjun seemed further away than ever, and I had no idea how to save it.

[novelistcasanova]

The next day, my dad asked me to come with him to the rice mill for a walk. He said he wanted to show me some new sacks they had received and talk about the business. I went with him, wearing my usual kurti top and leggings, heart already heavy from the night before. We walked slowly through the mill yard, the smell of rice and dust in the air, workers moving sacks in the background.

My dad walked beside me, hands behind his back, voice low and serious. "Sudha... I love you more than anything in this world. You know that, right? Everything I do... every decision I make... it is for your good. For your future. I have worked hard my whole life so you can have a better life than me and your mom. I want you to be happy, secure, respected."
I nodded silently, eyes on the ground, pain twisting inside my chest. I wanted to tell him about Arjun—how I loved him, how I wanted to marry him—but the words stuck in my throat. Fear choked me. I knew if I told him now, he would explode. He would see Arjun as a threat, as someone trying to take me away. He would never accept a simple boy with no money, no status. He would forbid it. Worse—he might hurt Arjun. The thought made my stomach turn. I could not risk it. I could not risk Arjun’s life.
My dad continued, voice steady. "That Rajesh... he is a good man. Successful. Rich. Powerful. He has everything—big house in Chennai, connections, money. He can give you a life we never could. Comfort. Respect. Security. I have been thinking a lot. He is the kind of man who can take care of you properly. He respects our family. He asked about you again. I think... I think he would make you happy."
I nodded again, throat tight, tears burning behind my eyes. Pain stabbed my heart—sharp, deep. I wanted to scream that I loved Arjun, that I did not want Rajesh, that I could not imagine life without Arjun. But I stayed silent. Fear held me back. Fear that my dad would lose control. Fear that he would go after Arjun. Fear that he would force me anyway. So I nodded to everything he said, lips pressed tight, body rigid.
My dad stopped walking, turned to me, placed a hand on my shoulder. "Sudha... I know marriage talks make you tense. But trust me. Whatever I do, it is for you. I will never let anyone hurt you. I will choose the best for you. You are my life. I love you more than anything."
I nodded once more, forcing a small smile, eyes stinging. "I know, Dad. I love you too."
Inside, pain and fear choked me. I loved Arjun. I wanted him. But I could not say it. Not now. Not to my dad. If I did, he might kill Arjun. I could see it in his eyes—the possessiveness, the protectiveness that bordered on obsession. I could not risk Arjun’s life. So I stayed silent. I nodded. I listened. I agreed with every word, even as my heart broke inside my chest.
We walked back home slowly, my dad talking more about Rajesh, about the future he wanted for me. I nodded to everything, pain and fear twisting tighter with every step, knowing the truth I carried would destroy us all if it came out.


Meanwhile Arjun was busy. His dad Venkatesh Jayanna and his friend Rajendran met with a terrible accident on the highway while returning from a nearby town. A truck lost control and hit their small auto-rickshaw head-on. Rajendran died on the spot—his body crushed beyond recognition. Venkatesh Jayanna suffered massive paralysis from the neck down. His spine was severely damaged, legs completely useless, arms barely moving. He could not walk, could not sit up without help, could not even turn his head properly. He lay in the local hospital bed, body limp, face twisted in constant pain, barely able to speak above a whisper, dependent on others for everything—eating, bathing, moving, even breathing sometimes required assistance.
Arjun had to take his dad to Chennai immediately—there was no proper treatment in our village hospital for such severe paralysis. He rushed his dad to a private hospital there, spending every rupee he had on doctors, scans, medicines, ICU charges. He stayed by his dad’s bedside day and night, feeding him through tubes, changing sheets soaked with sweat and urine, massaging paralyzed limbs to prevent bedsores, talking to him softly when the pain made Venkatesh Jayanna cry out. The suffering was worst—Venkatesh Jayanna moaned in agony constantly, body locked in paralysis, dignity gone, life reduced to helpless dependence. Arjun hardly slept, hardly ate, eyes red from crying and exhaustion.
He was in no situation to even talk to me. My calls went unanswered or cut short. When I called again and again, desperate to tell him about Rajesh, he sometimes snapped, voice hoarse and angry from stress. "Sudha... I cannot talk now. My dad is dying here. Please... stop calling so much. I will call when I can."
I understood. I stopped calling so often. But the silence from him made my fear worse. My parents were moving forward with Rajesh, and Arjun—my only hope—was lost in his own tragedy. I waited, tense and alone, heart breaking for both of us.



As I was struggling inside, my heart torn between two loves. I loved Arjun deeply—I wanted to marry him, spend my life with him, wake up beside him every day, build a home together. But he was completely busy and unavailable. His dad Venkatesh Jayanna was suffering terribly—massive paralysis from the neck down after the accident, spine crushed, legs useless, arms limp, body locked in constant agony. He lay in the Chennai hospital bed, moaning in pain every moment, unable to move even a finger properly, bedsores festering despite care, infections spreading, muscles wasting away, dignity gone, dependent on tubes for food, catheters for urine, nurses for every basic need. The pain was worst—constant burning in his nerves, spasms that made him scream, mind trapped in a useless body, begging for relief that never came. Doctors said he might never walk again, might never regain any movement. Arjun was there day and night, feeding him, cleaning him, paying impossible bills that drained every rupee, begging specialists for more treatment, crying when his dad suffered too much. Arjun could not leave him, could not come to see me, could not even talk properly. Sometimes when I called, he snapped from exhaustion and grief. "Sudha... please... not now. My dad is dying in pain. I cannot handle more." I understood. I stopped calling often. But the silence killed me. I missed him terribly, worried about him, worried about his dad, worried about us.
At the same time, I could not refuse my dad’s decision. My dad had always been my world—worked hard at the mill, sacrificed everything for me, loved me unconditionally. If he fixed this marriage to Rajesh, if he told me to marry him, I would have to obey. I could not hurt him. I could not go against him. The fear of disappointing him, of seeing pain in his eyes, of breaking his heart kept me silent. I felt trapped—loving Arjun, but unable to fight my dad. Loving my dad, but unable to betray Arjun. The conflict tore me apart inside.

[novelistcasanova]

No matter how much I tried to contact Arjun, he was busy with his dad whose health was getting worse. Venkatesh Jayanna’s condition deteriorated rapidly in the Chennai hospital—massive paralysis from the neck down, legs completely useless, arms limp and unresponsive, spine irreparably damaged. He lay motionless on the bed, body locked in constant agony, moaning in pain day and night, dignity stripped away. Bedsores formed on his back, hips, and heels from immobility, festering into deep ulcers that oozed pus and required daily cleaning. Infections spread—urinary tract, lungs, skin—fever raging, breathing labored through oxygen tubes, kidneys failing slowly from lack of movement, constant painkillers barely dulling the torment. He could not swallow properly, food delivered through a tube in his nose, saliva pooling in his mouth, choking him occasionally. He could not speak clearly, voice reduced to weak, slurred whispers between cries of pain. His family suffered too—Arjun drained every rupee on bills, borrowing money from relatives, selling family land, working odd jobs at night to pay for medicines and ICU stays. Arjun hardly slept, hardly ate, eyes red from crying and exhaustion. He would have been better off dead than living like this—trapped in a useless body, in constant pain, helpless and humiliated—but Arjun refused to give up, staying by his side, trying to save him, unable to leave even for a moment.

Arjun had no time, no energy to talk to me. My calls went unanswered or cut short. When I texted repeatedly, desperate for any word, he sometimes replied angrily: "Sudha... stop calling. My dad is dying here. I cannot deal with this right now. Leave me alone."
The night before the engagement to Rajesh, I could not bear it anymore. I called Arjun again, heart pounding, tears already in my eyes. This time he answered, voice hoarse and furious.
"What do you want, Sudha?" he snapped. "I told you I cannot talk. My dad is suffering. He is in constant pain, cannot move, cannot eat properly, cannot even breathe without help. He is dying slowly. I am here with him. I do not have time for this."
I sobbed, voice breaking. "Arjun... the engagement to Rajesh is tomorrow. My parents have fixed everything. I cannot say no to my dad. He will force me. Please... talk to me... help me..."
Arjun’s voice turned cold and angry. "Help you? How? My dad is dying, Sudha! He is paralyzed, in agony, begging for death sometimes because the pain is so bad. I am the only one here. I cannot leave him to come to you. And honestly... I am no longer interested in you. You keep calling, keep pushing when I am suffering. My dad is important. He is dying. You are worried about marriage? Go marry Rajesh. I do not care anymore."
I gasped, anger rising through my tears. "How can you say that? I love you! I am scared! My dad will force me! You are giving up on us?"
Arjun yelled back. "I am not giving up! I am dealing with my dad dying! You do not understand! Go marry your rich man. I cannot do this anymore!"
I screamed into the phone, tears streaming. "Fine! If you do not care, then I do not care either! Goodbye, Arjun!"
I hung up the call, sobbing uncontrollably, heart shattered. Arjun—the man I loved, the man who had saved my life, who had stood by me—was gone. Angry. Done. And tomorrow I was to be engaged to Rajesh. I curled on the bed, crying into my pillow, feeling completely alone, completely broken.


That same night, the preparations and hospitality for Rajesh’s family side began in full swing for the next day’s engagement. Our farmhouse was transformed into a traditional Tamil cultural engagement venue. All relatives from my side and Rajesh’s side were attending. The open courtyard was decorated with banana trees, mango leaves, marigold garlands, and kolam designs in front of the entrance. A large pandal was set up with white and gold cloth, lights strung across the top. Tables were arranged for the guests, with fresh jasmine flowers and betel leaves ready for the ceremony. The Tamil engagement rituals were planned—exchange of rings, offering of betel nuts and fruits, applying turmeric and kumkum on each other’s foreheads, and the formal announcement of the alliance.
My dad was desperate to get me married to Rajesh. He believed Rajesh was perfect for me. "Rajesh is successful beyond imagination,"** he told my mom earlier that evening. "He has a law firm in Chennai with branches in Bangalore and Hyderabad. He handles cases worth crores—corporate disputes, property empires, high-profile clients. He lives in a big bungalow in Anna Nagar, drives a Mercedes, travels by flight, eats in five-star hotels. Sudha will live like a queen—silk sarees, gold jewelry, servants, luxury cars, foreign trips. She will never have to worry about money or status. Our family will rise. Rajesh will help with the rice mill—new machines, more land, bigger deals. He is the best match we can get for Sudha."
My dad treated all the relatives of Rajesh with utmost respect. He got down to their level, serving them personally. He arranged local delicacies—idli, dosa, vada, sambar, rasam, pongal, payasam, fresh coconut water, and village-style chicken curry cooked in large pots over firewood. He even brought out local alcohol—arrack and toddy—for the men, serving it in steel tumblers with respect, pouring it himself, making sure every guest felt honored. He greeted Rajesh’s uncles and cousins with folded hands, called them "sir," offered them betel leaves and nuts, and spoke highly of Rajesh to them. "Your nephew is a great man. He will take care of Sudha like a queen. We are lucky to have this alliance." He bowed slightly when Rajesh’s mom arrived, touched her feet, and led her to the best seat under the pandal.
Though Rajesh’s uncles were getting drunk on local toddy and arrack, my dad was busy entertaining them with local village dancers. Five women in bright silk sarees and heavy jewelry danced traditional Tamil folk dances—kummi and kolattam—swaying their hips, twirling, clapping hands, feet stamping in rhythm to the nadaswaram and drums in our farmhouse courtyard. The uncles watched the dancers, but their eyes were all over my mom and her two sisters who were busy making all the flower arrangements around the house.
My mom wore a pink silk saree with gold border, boobs full and round, pushing hard over the black blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and firm under the saree, hips swaying as she bent to place jasmine garlands on the pandal pillars. Her two sisters were equally hot—one in a green silk saree, boobs heavy and bouncing slightly as she arranged marigold strings, nipples visible over the blouse, ass cheeks jiggling when she moved; the other in a maroon silk saree, boobs pushing against the blouse, nipples hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and prominent as she tied banana leaves for decorations. All three had wide hips, thick thighs, smooth navels peeking over low saree waists, mangalsutra resting between deep cleavage.
Rajesh’s uncles stared openly, eyes fixed on my mom’s boobs bouncing as she reached up, on her sister’s ass cheeks jiggling as she bent, on the third sister’s hips swaying while tying flowers. They whispered among themselves, licking lips, hands tightening on their tumblers, cocks stirring under their dhotis as they watched the three hot women work. Their lust was obvious—eyes dark, breathing heavier, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, imagining what was under those silk sarees, pussy lips hidden beneath, ass cheeks spreading when they bent, boobs jiggling freely without bras underneath.
My dad treated the guests with utmost respect, getting down to their level, serving local delicacies— fresh coconut water, and village-style chicken curry cooked in large pots over firewood. He poured local alcohol—arrack and toddy—for the men in steel tumblers, refilling their glasses himself, laughing at their jokes, calling them "sir," offering betel leaves and nuts, making sure every guest felt honored and welcomed.



Rajesh’s uncles were getting drunk on toddy and arrack, their faces flushed red, voices louder with every refill. They grew bolder, staggering behind the house where my mom and her two sisters were decorating the pillars with flowers—jasmine garlands wrapped around wooden beams, marigold strings tied in loops, banana leaves pinned with rose petals, mango leaves hanging in bunches, all traditional Tamil Nadu decorations for the engagement.
The uncles approached them under the pretense of helping. One uncle stood behind my mom, hands grabbing her ass cheeks over the saree while reaching for a garland. "Madam... your ass cheeks are so soft and round... let me hold them while you tie this..." he whispered, squeezing her ass cheeks hard, fingers digging in.
My mom’s sisters hated it—faces tight, bodies stiffening, anger flashing in their eyes, trying to step away politely—but they controlled themselves, staying silent, letting the old men touch them. They did not flirt back, did not smile, did not encourage—just endured, lips pressed tight, breathing shallow, fists clenched at their sides, anger simmering but held in check.
My mom quickly whispered to them, voice low and urgent. "Do not react... they are Rajesh’s uncles. We cannot upset them. We cannot cancel the wedding. Sudha’s future depends on this alliance. Rajesh is rich, powerful, perfect for her. If we offend them, everything will be ruined. Just stay calm. I will handle it."
My mom was desperate to get me married to Rajesh. She saw him as the ultimate prize—filthy rich, handsome, connected. She imagined me living in luxury in Chennai—big house, servants, cars, silk sarees every day, gold jewelry, foreign trips, no more middle-class struggles. She saw financial help for Dad’s rice mill, new machines, more land, respect in the village. She would do anything to make it happen—even flirt back and let these drunk uncles grope her if it kept the alliance intact.
Then one uncle—drunk and impatient—leaned close to my mom’s ear, voice low and threatening. "If you keep moving away... I can tell my nephew Rajesh to cancel this wedding. One word from me and it is over. Your daughter will lose everything. Better to be nice to us... cooperate."
My mom froze. Her sisters looked at her in panic, eyes pleading for help. My mom swallowed hard, then forced a small smile, stepping forward to save her sisters. "Sir... please do not be angry. My sisters’ husbands are criminals... very dangerous men. If they find out you touched them, they will kill you. They are violent. Please... do not touch them. They are scared. You can kiss me instead... I am safe... my husband is not here... let me make you happy..."
The uncles paused, eyes shifting to my mom, interest sparking. My mom stepped forward confidently, voice soft and tempting. "Come... kiss me... I will make it worth your time... forget them... focus on me..."
The ugliest uncle—the one already most horny, eyes dark with lust, breathing heavy, cock visibly hard under his dhoti—grinned and stepped toward my mom. She met him halfway, hands gently touching his shoulders, leaning in slowly. Their lips met—my mom kissing him nicely, desperately, to tempt him and keep his attention only on her.
She pressed her lips softly at first, then opened her mouth wider, tongue sliding out to trace his lips, teasing the seam before slipping inside, swirling slowly against his tongue. She sucked his lower lip gently, nibbling lightly, then deepened the kiss, tongue thrusting deeper into his mouth, tasting the toddy on his breath, moaning softly into the kiss to make it feel real. Her boobs pushed against his chest over the saree, nipples hard over the blouse, rubbing against him as she leaned in more. Her hands slid up to his neck, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him harder, tongue dancing with his, lips sliding wetly, desperately, making wet sucking sounds, her breath coming in soft gasps against his mouth.
The uncle groaned into the kiss, hands moving to her ass cheeks, squeezing hard over the saree, but his attention was now completely on my mom—eyes closed, body leaning into her, lost in the desperate, tempting kiss. My mom kept kissing him passionately, tongue exploring his mouth, lips sucking and pulling, body pressing closer, boobs crushing against him, all to distract him, to keep him focused only on her, to protect her sisters and save the wedding alliance.
My mom’s sisters stood silent, faces tight with controlled anger, bodies stiff, letting the other uncles grope them—hands on boobs, fingers on navels and thighs—but not reacting, not flirting back, just enduring for the wedding, for me, for the alliance.


The ugliest uncle pulled back from the kiss, lips wet and swollen, eyes glazed with lust, breathing heavy. My mom looked up at him, voice soft and desperate to keep him pleased. "Sir... did you like the kiss? Did my lips feel good on yours?"
He nodded slowly, grinning wide, tongue licking his lips. "Yes... very good... your mouth is sweet... I want more..."
My mom smiled, stepping closer again, hands sliding up his chest. "Then take more... my lips are yours tonight... kiss me again... as much as you want..."
Before he could move, another uncle—drunk and eager—turned toward one of my mom’s sisters, reaching for her face, trying to pull her in for a kiss. "Come here... I want your lips too... give me a taste..."
My mom’s sister flinched, eyes wide with panic, body tensing. My mom immediately stepped between them, voice firm but sweet, desperate to protect her sister and save the wedding. "No... not her... she is scared. Her husband is dangerous. Please... take my lips instead. Kiss me... I will make it good for you... focus on me..."
The uncle paused, eyes shifting back to my mom. She moved quickly toward him, hands gently cupping his face, pulling him in. Their lips met again—my mom kissing him desperately, temptingly, to keep his attention only on her.
She pressed her lips hard against his, opening her mouth wide immediately, tongue thrusting deep inside, swirling aggressively against his tongue, tasting the arrack and sweat. She sucked his tongue hard, pulling it into her mouth, moaning softly into the kiss, the sound low and needy. Her lips slid wetly over his, sucking and nibbling, tongue dancing fast and deep, exploring every corner of his mouth. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss further, lips sealing tight, making loud, wet sucking sounds, her breath hot and fast against his face. Her boobs crushed against his chest over the saree, nipples hard over the blouse, rubbing against him with every movement. Her hands slid into his hair, fingers gripping tight, pulling his head closer, kissing him harder, tongue thrusting in and out, desperate and hungry, body pressing fully against him.
The uncle groaned loudly into her mouth, hands grabbing her ass cheeks over the saree, squeezing hard, pulling her tighter against him. His attention was completely on my mom—eyes closed, body leaning into her, lost in the desperate, tempting kiss. My mom kept kissing him passionately, tongue exploring deep, lips sucking and pulling, moaning softly, boobs crushing against him, all to distract him, to keep him focused only on her, to protect her sisters and save the wedding alliance.


My mom pulled back slightly from the first kiss, lips wet and swollen, breath coming in soft pants. She looked up at the ugly uncle, voice low and seductive, desperate to keep his attention and please him. "Sir... did my lips feel good on yours? Did you enjoy tasting me?"
He nodded slowly, grinning wide, tongue licking his lips, eyes glazed with lust. "Yes... too good... your mouth is hot... wet... I want it again... deeper..."
My mom smiled, stepping closer again, hands sliding up his chest. "Then take it deeper, sir... my lips are yours tonight... kiss me as hard as you want..."
Before he could move, another uncle—drunk and eager—turned toward my mom’s younger sister, reaching for her face, trying to pull her in for a kiss. "Come here... I want your lips now... open up for me..."
My mom’s younger sister flinched, eyes wide with panic, body tensing. My mom immediately stepped between them, voice firm but sweet, desperate to protect her sister and save the wedding. "No... not her... she is terrified. Her husband is dangerous. Please... take my lips instead. Kiss me... I will give you everything you want... focus on me..."
The uncle paused, eyes shifting back to my mom. She moved quickly toward him, hands gently cupping his face, pulling him in. Their lips met again—my mom kissing him desperately, temptingly, to make him forget her sister completely.
She started slow this time, lips brushing his lightly, teasing with soft pecks along his mouth, letting him feel the warmth before pressing fully. Then she angled her head, mouth opening wide, tongue flicking out to trace the outline of his lips in slow, wet circles, teasing the seam without entering yet. She nibbled his upper lip gently, tugging it between her teeth, then sucked it softly, releasing with a small pop. She moaned low in her throat, the sound vibrating against his mouth, before sliding her tongue inside—slow at first, gliding along his tongue in long, deliberate strokes, tasting the arrack and sweat. She swirled her tongue around his, coaxing it to play, then sucked his tongue deep into her mouth, lips sealing tight, creating wet, rhythmic suction. Her tongue thrust in and out, fucking his mouth slowly, then faster, desperate and hungry, making loud, sloppy sucking sounds. Her breath came in hot gasps against his lips, tongue dancing wildly, exploring every corner, lips sliding wetly, desperately, pulling and sucking, body pressing fully against him, boobs crushing against his chest over the saree, nipples hard over the blouse, rubbing with every movement. Her hands slid into his hair, fingers gripping tight, pulling his head closer, kissing him harder, tongue thrusting deep, desperate to tempt him, to consume him, to make him forget her sister existed.
The uncle groaned loudly into her mouth, hands grabbing her ass cheeks over the saree, squeezing hard, pulling her tighter against him. His attention was completely on my mom—eyes closed, body leaning into her, lost in the desperate, tempting kiss.


My mom pulled back from the kiss, lips wet and swollen, breath coming in soft pants. She looked at her sisters, eyes sharp, giving them a quick, smart hand signal—two fingers pointing toward the side path, then a subtle wave of her palm telling them to leave immediately while she stayed. Her sisters understood instantly, nodding once, faces still tight with anger but relieved. They slipped away quietly through the shadows behind the house, disappearing toward the front yard without a sound.
My mom turned back to the three old men, stepping closer, voice low and seductive, desperate to convince them she was worth it and keep them from following her sisters or canceling the wedding. "Sirs... look at me. My sisters are gone. You do not need them. I am all you want. I will give you everything... all the pleasure you desire. Let me show you inside the pumpset room... through the back path... where no one will see. I will make you feel so good... you will forget everyone else..."
She swayed her hips slowly, letting the saree cling to her ass cheeks, boobs pushing hard over the blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse. She ran her hands down her sides, tracing her hips and thighs, teasing them with the movement. "See how my body moves for you... how it waits for your touch... come with me to the pumpset room... I will let you explore everything... feel how warm I am... how ready..."
The ugliest uncle licked his lips, eyes dark. "You talk big, madam... but can you really satisfy three of us? We are very hungry tonight..."
My mom smiled, voice husky and tempting. "Oh, I can satisfy all three of you... I will be your secret tonight... my body is yours... whatever you want... I will moan for you... I will make you feel things you have never felt... just do not cancel the wedding... please... take me inside..."
The second uncle stepped closer, breathing heavy. "Prove it... what makes you so special?"
My mom ran her hands up to her boobs, squeezing them over the blouse, nipples pressing harder against the fabric. "This body... it is full and eager... it wants your hands... your mouth... I will let you taste me... I will arch for you... beg you to take more..."
The third uncle groaned softly, cock stirring under his dhoti. "And lower? Is it ready for us?"
My mom swayed her hips again, hands sliding down to her thighs, lifting the saree slightly to show more of her thighs. "Lower... it is warm and waiting... I will spread for you... let you discover how wet I get... I will moan your names... beg you to go deeper..."
The uncles stared, cocks throbbing, breathing heavy, completely tempted. The ugliest one nodded. "Lead the way... show us what you can do..."
My mom turned slightly, swaying her hips, ass cheeks jiggling under the saree as she walked toward the back path leading to the pumpset room. She opened the door slowly, stepping inside the small, dim room—old pump motor humming quietly, smell of oil and earth, no windows, no one around. She turned back to them, voice husky. "Come... the pumpset room is empty... no one will disturb us... I will drop to my knees... take you in my mouth... one by one... taste you deep... swallow everything... then bend over for you... spread for you... let you take me hard... deep... all three of you... I will scream your names... I will be your dirty little secret... just do not cancel the wedding... please... take me inside..."
The uncles stared, cocks throbbing, breathing heavy, completely tempted. They followed her inside the pumpset room through the back path, eyes fixed on her swaying hips, ass cheeks jiggling, boobs bouncing over the blouse, lost in the promise of her desperate, teasing offer.

[novelistcasanova]

My dad, desperate to get me married to Rajesh, began pleasing the male guests with not just alcohol but also arranged local village whores. He had quietly called a few women from the nearby settlement—hot and sexy in sarees, bodies full and tempting. One wore a red silk saree with gold border, boobs heavy and round, pushing hard over the black blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and firm under the saree, hips wide and swaying. Another in a green silk saree, boobs bouncing slightly as she moved, nipples visible over the blouse, ass cheeks jiggling with every step. The third in a maroon silk saree, boobs pushing against the blouse, nipples hard over the blouse, ass cheeks prominent as she bent.

Rajesh’s family men were enjoying themselves with the girls. One man lifted the red saree girl’s saree along with her petticoat, pulling her panties down her thighs, exposing her pussy lips. He spread her thighs wide, fingers rubbing her pussy lips, sliding along the slit, teasing her clit, making her moan softly. Another man shoved the green saree girl against a pillar, pulling her saree and petticoat up, panties tugged down, fingers spreading her pussy lips, rubbing her clit hard, then shoving two fingers deep inside her pussy, thrusting fast, her boobs bouncing over the blouse as she gasped. The third man grabbed the maroon saree girl from behind, lifting her saree and petticoat, panties pushed down, hands squeezing her ass cheeks, spreading them wide, fingers sliding along her pussy lips, rubbing her clit, then pushing a finger into her asshole while his other hand rubbed her pussy, making her body tremble.
The men laughed, cocks hard under their dhotis, fingers thrusting into pussy and asshole, rubbing clit, squeezing boobs over blouses, pinching nipples, enjoying the girls’ moans and wet pussy lips, bodies grinding against them, all under the cover of the farmhouse night.
Meanwhile my mom, desperate to get me married to Rajesh, was taking the three old men inside the pumpset room to entertain and please them so that they did not cancel the wedding. She led them through the back path, swaying her hips, ass cheeks jiggling under the saree, boobs bouncing over the blouse, voice low and tempting. "Come... the pumpset room is empty... no one will disturb us... I will make you all feel good... I will be your secret tonight... just do not cancel the wedding... please..."
My parents were desperate to get the wedding done because they believed this would not only settle me down but also come out of all their financial problems. Dad saw Rajesh as the key to expanding the rice mill, paying off debts, gaining respect in the village. My mom saw it as security for me and the family—luxury, money, status. They would do anything to make it happen.


My dad, desperate to get me married to Rajesh, began pleasing the male guests with not just alcohol but also arranged local village whores. He had quietly called a few women from the nearby settlement—hot and sexy in sarees, bodies full and tempting. One wore a red silk saree with gold border, boobs heavy and round, pushing hard over the black blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and firm under the saree, hips wide and swaying. Another in a green silk saree, boobs bouncing slightly as she moved, nipples visible over the blouse, ass cheeks jiggling with every step. The third in a maroon silk saree, boobs pushing against the blouse, nipples hard over the blouse, ass cheeks prominent as she bent.
Rajesh’s family men were enjoying themselves fucking the girls. One man lifted the red saree girl’s saree along with her petticoat, pulling her panties down her thighs, exposing her pussy lips. He spread her thighs wide, fingers rubbing her pussy lips, sliding along the slit, teasing her clit, making her moan softly. He shoved his cock deep inside her pussy, thrusting hard, her boobs bouncing over the blouse as she gasped, pussy lips gripping his cock tight, wet sounds filling the air.
Another man shoved the green saree girl against a pillar, pulling her saree and petticoat up, panties tugged down, pussy lips exposed. He rubbed her clit hard, then shoved two fingers deep inside her pussy, thrusting fast, her boobs bouncing over the blouse as she moaned. He pulled his cock out, slid it between her ass cheeks, then pushed inside her pussy, fucking her hard from behind, her ass cheeks jiggling with every thrust, pussy clenching around his cock.
The third man grabbed the maroon saree girl from behind, lifting her saree and petticoat, panties pushed down, hands spreading her ass cheeks wide. He rubbed her clit, then pushed his cock inside her pussy, thrusting deep, her boobs bouncing over the blouse, moaning loud as he fucked her hard, pussy wet and gripping his cock, ass cheeks spreading with every thrust.
The men loved the village beauties—it was rare for them to enjoy such exotic babes in the village, pussy tight and wet, boobs bouncing, ass cheeks jiggling, moans filling the air.
Meanwhile I ran to check on my mom inside the pumpset room. They had already removed her saree, blouse and petticoat and she was only in her white bra and dark green panties. Her boobs full and round, pushing hard over the white bra, nipples poking hard over the bra, ass cheeks round and firm under the dark green panties, panty line visible over her ass cheeks over the dark green panties, navel exposed, thighs thick and smooth, hips wide and inviting, making her look hot and sexy.
The three old men were romancing my mom. One man wrapped my mom’s arm around his neck and hugged her tight, pressing her boobs against his chest over the white bra. Another man inserted his left hand inside her dark green panties from behind and played with her asshole and pussy, fingers rubbing her pussy lips and sliding along her asshole. Another man was holding my mom’s face and telling my mom how hot and sexy she was. "You are so hot... your boobs are perfect... your ass feels so good... you are sexier than any woman here..."
My mom, desperate to get me married to Rajesh, was tolerating them and letting them do whatever they wanted to do so that they did not cancel the wedding.
My parents were desperate to get the wedding done because they believed this would not only settle me down but also come out of all their financial problems.


Rajesh’s family men were enjoying themselves fucking the girls in a wild orgy across the farmhouse courtyard. The village whores—hot and sexy in their sarees—were true beauties of the countryside, bodies full and tempting, rare exotic babes these city men seldom got to enjoy in the village. Boobs heavy and round, pushing hard over blouses, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and firm under sarees, hips wide and swaying.
One man had the red saree girl bent over a wooden bench, her saree and petticoat lifted, panties down, ass cheeks spread wide. He fucked her from behind in doggy style, cock thrusting deep inside her pussy, balls slapping her ass cheeks, her boobs bouncing wildly over the blouse as she moaned Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm. He grabbed her hips, pounding hard, until he groaned “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” he moaned and came deep inside her pussy, thick cum filling her pussy, dripping out around his cock. She moaned “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... aaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” as she came all over his cock, pussy spasming hard.
Another man had the green saree girl on her back on a mat, legs spread wide in missionary, saree and petticoat pushed up, panties off, pussy lips exposed. He fucked her deep, cock sliding in and out of her pussy, boobs bouncing over the blouse as she moaned Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm. He sucked her nipples over the blouse, thrusting hard, until he came deep inside her pussy “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” thick cum flooding her pussy. She moaned “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... aaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” cumming all over his cock, pussy spasming.
Another man had the maroon saree girl riding him in cowgirl, saree and petticoat lifted, panties down, pussy sliding up and down his cock, boobs bouncing over the blouse, moaning loud Mnmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmm. He squeezed her ass cheeks, thrusting up to meet her, until he came deep inside her pussy “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” cum filling her pussy. She moaned “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... aaaaaaaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...!” cumming all over his cock, pussy spasming.
The men loved the village beauties—it was rare for them to enjoy such exotic babes in the village, pussy tight and wet, boobs bouncing, ass cheeks jiggling, moans filling the air. Even after cumming, the men stayed inside the girls, hugging them tight, sleeping on top of them, kissing their lips, boobs, navels, refusing to send them off. They fell in love with the girls—cocks still hard inside pussy, kissing and groping, moaning softly, enjoying the warmth and wetness, no mood to let them go, whispering sweet things, holding them close, lost in the pleasure and connection.


After sex, the male guests lay tangled with the girls across the farmhouse courtyard, bodies slick with sweat, cocks still half-hard inside pussy, breathing heavy in the night air. The village whores—hot and sexy in their sarees—were true beauties of the countryside, bodies full and tempting, rare exotic babes these married city men seldom got to enjoy in the village. Boobs heavy and round, pushing hard over blouses, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks round and firm under sarees, hips wide and swaying.
One man hugged the red saree girl tight, cock still buried deep inside her pussy, kissing her lips softly, whispering against her mouth. "God... you were amazing... I’ve never felt anything like that... if I wasn’t already married, I’d be putting a ring on you right now... I’ll get you a job in my Chennai office... good pay, receptionist position... you’ll never have to worry again..."
The girl sighed softly, clinging to him, pussy clenching around his cock. "Thank you, sir... that means so much... I’d be grateful..."
Another man held the green saree girl close, cock still inside her pussy, kissing her boobs over the blouse, voice low and warm. "You’re something else... if I was free, I’d have made you mine... but I’ll make sure you’re taken care of... job in my company, steady salary, permanent... you deserve it..."
The girl smiled, hugging him tighter. "You’re too kind... thank you..."
Another man kissed the maroon saree girl’s navel, cock still hard inside her pussy, murmuring. "I can’t stop thinking about you... if I wasn’t married, I’d have asked you to be my wife... I’ll set you up with something good... office job, decent pay, security..."
The girl looked up, eyes soft. "Thank you... I appreciate it..."
The men fell in love with the girls after cumming—cocks still inside pussy, hugging them tight, sleeping on top of them, kissing their lips, boobs, navels, refusing to send them off. They whispered sweet things, held them close, moaning softly, enjoying the warmth and wetness, no mood to let them go, promising more, lost in the pleasure and connection.
One man, holding a girl close, kissed her forehead. "If I wasn’t already taken... I’d have married you in a heartbeat... you’re too perfect..."
Another man, arms wrapped around his girl, sighed. "God, if I was single... I’d be begging you to be my wife... no one else compares..."
There was this one guy who told the girl he was recently divorced. He looked into her eyes, voice soft. "I’m recently divorced... no wife anymore... I know this is crazy, but... will you marry me? Let me take care of you?"
The girl looked up, eyes shining, nodding eagerly. "Yes... I will..."
They hugged tight, bodies pressed together, kissing passionately, lost in each other.



Meanwhile inside the pumpset room, the two men were taking their clothes off one by one to fuck my mom. They pulled off their shirts, dhotis dropping to the floor, cocks already hard and throbbing. My mom stood only in her white bra and dark green panties, boobs full and round, pushing hard over the white bra, nipples poking hard over the bra, ass cheeks round and firm under the dark green panties, panty line visible over her ass cheeks over the dark green panties, navel exposed, thighs thick and smooth, hips wide and inviting.
She hugged one man tightly with her arms wrapped around his neck, crying out of embarrassment, tears streaming down her face, whispering and praying to god for help. "Oh God... please help me... I am doing this for Sudha... please forgive me... let this end soon..."
The man she hugged kissed her neck nasty and filthy, lips wet and sloppy, tongue licking long, slow strokes along the side of her neck, sucking hard on the sensitive spot below her ear, teeth grazing her neck, biting lightly, leaving red marks. He dragged his tongue up to her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth, moaning low, breath hot and heavy against her neck. "Mmm... your neck tastes so good... salty... sweet... I could lick it all night..." He kissed down the other side, tongue swirling in wet circles, sucking and nibbling, lips pulling on her neck skin, making loud, wet smacking sounds, hands squeezing her ass cheeks over the dark green panties, pulling her tighter against his hard cock.
My mom trembled, tears falling, but held on, whispering prayers under her breath, enduring for the wedding, for me, for the alliance with Rajesh.
The other man stepped closer, cock throbbing, eyes dark with lust, watching the filthy neck kissing, waiting his turn.


I could not take it anymore. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. I ran around the house to the pumpset room, tears blurring my vision, determined to save my mom. I pushed the door open with all my strength.
That’s when Rajesh appeared out of nowhere. He kicked the door open hard, the wood slamming against the wall. He removed his white shirt in one swift motion, the crisp fabric sliding off his broad shoulders, revealing a toned chest. He wrapped the shirt around my mom’s body, covering her white bra and dark green panties, shielding her from the three old men.
Rajesh’s face was thunderous. He yelled at his uncles, voice booming with rage. "What the hell are you doing?! Have you lost your minds? Get out! Right now! You disgraceful old bastards! Touching a woman like this... in my future wife’s house? I will ruin you! Get out before I lose control!"
The uncles froze, faces pale, cocks softening instantly under their dhotis. They stumbled back, muttering apologies, grabbing their clothes, and fled the pumpset room, staggering out into the night.
My mom collapsed against the wall, tears streaming down her face, clutching Rajesh’s white shirt around her body. She started crying, voice breaking. "Thank you... thank you so much... I thought... I thought it was over... thank you, Rajesh..."
Rajesh knelt in front of her, gently buttoning his white shirt over her white bra and dark green panties, covering her boobs and ass cheeks. His voice softened, but still carried the sharp edge of an advocate. "I am sorry... I should have been here sooner. Those men... they committed assault. Sexual harassment. Outraging modesty under Section 354 IPC. Attempted bang. Criminal intimidation under 503. If you want, I can file cases against them tomorrow. They will rot in jail. I have handled worse. I will make sure they pay."
My mom shook her head quickly, tears still falling, voice trembling but firm. "No... please... do not do that. They are your uncles. We are all going to become part of the same family. If you file cases... the wedding... everything will be ruined. Sudha’s future... our alliance... please... let it go. For me... for us..."
Rajesh looked at her for a long moment, then sighed, nodding slowly. "Okay... for you... I will not file anything. But if they ever come near you again... I will not hesitate."
My mom looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. She felt a wave of respect and gratitude for Rajesh—stronger than ever. She saw his power, his decency, his willingness to protect her even when it cost him family ties. In that moment, she decided he was the right person for me in the whole world. Strong. Honorable. Capable. Someone who would keep me safe, provide for me, respect our family. Her heart swelled with admiration. "Thank you... you are a good man... the best... Sudha is lucky to have you..."
Rajesh helped her stand, wrapping his arm around her shoulders protectively. My mom leaned into him, feeling safe for the first time that night.
Rajesh stepped out of the pumpset room, his white shirt still wrapped around my mom, his face hard with anger. He marched toward the courtyard where his other family members were still tangled with the village girls, cocks buried deep inside pussy, boobs bouncing, moans filling the air.
He stopped short, voice booming across the yard. "Stop! All of you! Get off them right now! What the hell is this? You are married men! Your wives are in the other farmhouse just across the wall, singing and dancing, and you are here fucking these girls like animals? Have you no shame? No respect for women? This is not how we behave! Get up! Dress yourselves! You disgrace the family!"
The men froze, cocks slipping out of pussy, faces pale. They scrambled up, pulling up dhotis, muttering apologies, eyes down. The girls sat up, sarees disheveled, boobs heaving over blouses, pussy leaking cum.
My dad, who had been serving drinks nearby, turned at the sound of Rajesh’s voice. He walked over, eyes wide, then saw Rajesh standing tall, commanding respect.
Rajesh continued yelling, voice sharp and controlled. "You think this is acceptable? Touching women like this? Using them? These girls deserve respect, not your filth! You are educated men! You have families! Wives! Daughters! Imagine if someone did this to your own women! You would kill them! But here you are... degrading yourselves and them! Enough! Get back to your wives! This ends now!"
My dad watched, face softening with admiration. He stepped closer to Rajesh, voice low but proud. "Rajesh... you are right. You speak with honor. You protect women... respect them. I am happy. Very happy. I knew you were the best man for Sudha. You will take good care of her... keep her safe... respect her. I could not have found a better husband for my daughter."
Rajesh nodded, still angry but calming. "Uncle... I will never let anyone disrespect Sudha or any woman in our family. That is my promise."
One of the men, still breathless, spoke up. "We... we were going to take the girls to the city... give them proper jobs... settle their futures... we swear..."
Another nodded quickly. "Yes... office jobs... good pay... we will look after them..."
My dad looked at Rajesh, then at the men, nodding slowly. "It is better they move to the city and work and earn. Let them go with you. Give them respect... jobs... a better life. No more of this here. Take them away... treat them well."
Rajesh looked at the girls, then at my dad, nodding in excitement. "Yes... I will make sure they are taken care of. Jobs... security... respect. They deserve it."
The men quickly gathered their clothes, helping the girls adjust their sarees, promising again—jobs, money, futures—while my dad watched Rajesh with growing pride, convinced he had found the perfect man for me.

[novelistcasanova]

The next day the engagement and date fixing happened. Our farmhouse was transformed into a grand Tamil Nadu-style celebration. The courtyard was covered with a massive pandal dbangd in white and gold cloth, banana trees tied at every entrance with mango leaves, kolam designs in bright red and white powder covering the floor, jasmine and rose garlands hanging in thick rows, oil lamps lit everywhere, and fresh turmeric and kumkum placed in brass plates. Tables were set with silver platters full of betel leaves, areca nuts, fruits, sweets, and traditional Tamil sweets—laddu, mysore pak, adhirasam. Nadaswaram and thavil music filled the air, loud and festive.

I wore the expensive saree Rajesh had brought for me—the most expensive one: a pure Kanchipuram silk saree in deep red with heavy gold zari work, intricate temple border designs, and rich pallu full of gold motifs. The saree was dbangd perfectly, hugging my hips and ass cheeks, boobs pushing hard over the red blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse. Underneath I wore a white bra and white panties, the bra cups hugging my boobs tightly, nipples pressing against the fabric. The red petticoat was tied low on my hips, showing a smooth navel. My friends helped me dress—adjusting the saree folds, pinning the pallu, tucking jasmine flowers in my hair, applying kumkum on my forehead, making me look as beautiful as possible. My boobs looked full and round, ass cheeks curved perfectly under the saree, thighs visible when I walked, navel peeking, hips swaying gracefully.
I stood in front of the elders with Rajesh, both of us in the center of the pandal. He wore a crisp white dhoti and shirt, gold chain around his neck, looking tall and powerful. The women from both families gathered around, talking excitedly.
One aunty from Rajesh’s side smiled wide. "Look at them... such a perfect pair. Sudha looks like a goddess in that red saree... her figure is so graceful... Rajesh is lucky."
Another woman nodded. "Yes... and Rajesh is so handsome... tall, strong... they will make beautiful children. Sudha’s grace and charm... perfect for a bride."
My mom beamed with pride. "My Sudha is the most beautiful bride... and Rajesh is the best groom... strong, successful... he will take care of her like a queen."
My dad stood tall, chest puffed with happiness. "Yes... the best match. Rajesh is perfect for Sudha. She will live like a queen in Chennai... big house, luxury, respect... I could not have found a better son-in-law."
As they fixed the date and announced it, the priest spoke loudly. "The auspicious date for the wedding is fixed... 3rd February 2026... Thursday... perfect muhurat... the alliance is sealed."
The elders clapped, music swelled, everyone cheered. My parents were totally happy, my family totally happy, faces glowing with joy and relief.
But I stood there, heart heavy. I was missing Arjun terribly. I thought about our fight—how I yelled at him, how I hung up. My heart was full of guilt. He was suffering with his dad in Chennai, and I had pushed him away when he needed me most. Now the wedding was fixed in one week. I felt trapped, sad, guilty, eyes stinging with unshed tears, but I forced a smile, standing beside Rajesh, while inside I ached for Arjun.


Though I texted Arjun many times after the engagement, he did not see my messages about it. His phone was off or unreachable—probably because of his dad’s worsening condition in the hospital. I kept checking my phone, heart sinking every time no reply came, tears falling silently as the wedding preparations continued around me.
After a couple of days, through his friends Vikram and Suresh, Arjun came to know about the engagement. That evening my phone rang suddenly. It was Arjun. I picked up immediately, voice trembling.
"Arjun..." I whispered, tears already starting.
Arjun’s voice cracked on the other end, heavy with emotion. "Sudha... I heard... the engagement... with that Rajesh... is it true?"
I sobbed, clutching the phone tight. "Yes... they fixed it... the wedding is in a couple of days... 3rd February 2026... I could not stop them... I tried... but Dad... he will not listen... I am scared, Arjun... I do not want to marry Rajesh... I love you... only you..."
Arjun started crying too, voice breaking. "Sudha... no... please... do not marry him... I cannot lose you... I love you... more than anything... please... do not do this... I beg you... do not marry that rich advocate... you are mine... I cannot live without you..."
I cried harder, body shaking. "I will not... I promise... I cannot say no to Dad... he is so happy... but I love you... I want to marry you... please save me, Arjun... save me from this wedding... I do not want anyone else... only you..."
Arjun sobbed, voice desperate. "I will save you... I swear... I will marry you at any cost... I have a plan... I cannot talk on the phone now... it is not safe... but I am sending both Vikram and Suresh tonight to your house... they will explain everything... trust them... trust me... I will not let this wedding happen... I love you... wait for me..."
I nodded, even though he could not see. "Okay... I trust you... I love you, Arjun... please come soon..."
Arjun whispered, voice thick with tears. "I love you too... I will... wait for them tonight... I will save you... goodbye for now..."
He hung up the call. I sat on the bed, phone clutched to my chest, tears streaming, heart full of hope and fear. Vikram and Suresh were coming tonight with the plan. I waited, tense and emotional, praying it would work, praying I could escape the wedding and be with Arjun.


At night around 10 PM, after my mom and dad were asleep, I tiptoed quietly through the dark house. I wore only my white nightie—no bra, no panties. Earlier that evening, the humidity had been unbearable—thick, sticky air clinging to my body, making my boobs feel heavy and sweaty under the bra. I had unhooked the white bra in my room, letting my boobs fall free, nipples hardening instantly in the warm air. The bra straps had left red marks on my shoulders, so I peeled it off completely, sighing with relief as my boobs bounced softly, free and full. The dark green panties had been wet from sweat between my thighs and sticking to my pussy lips, so I slid them down my hips, stepping out of them, feeling the humid air kiss my bare pussy lips and ass cheeks. I left both bra and panties on the floor, slipped into the thin white nightie, the soft fabric gliding over my naked boobs and ass cheeks, clinging lightly to my nipples and pussy lips in the sticky heat. Now, barefoot, I tiptoed to the back door, heart racing, the nightie brushing my bare thighs and ass cheeks with every step.
I opened the back door slowly, the hinges creaking softly. Vikram and Suresh stood outside in the shadows. The moment I saw them, though I was not close to them, they reminded me of Arjun—their height, their build, the way they stood like him. Emotion crashed over me. Tears filled my eyes instantly. I forgot everything—forgot that they had always lusted after me quietly—and rushed forward, wrapping my arms around Vikram’s neck, hugging him passionately.
My naked boobs pressed hard against his chest through the thin white nightie, nipples stiff and rubbing against his shirt with every sob. The nightie was so thin it felt like nothing separated my boobs from his body—soft, full mounds crushing warmly against him, nipples dragging slightly as I trembled. Vikram hugged me back immediately, arms wrapping tight around my waist, pulling me closer, his hands sliding down to rest just above my ass cheeks. He felt every curve of my naked boobs against him, the heat of my nipples poking through the nightie, the soft weight of my boobs flattening and spreading against his chest. His breathing quickened, cock stirring in his trousers as he held me, enjoying the feel of my bare boobs pressing into him, the way they moved with my sobs.
I cried against his neck, voice breaking. "Vikram... I miss Arjun so much... I fought with him... I yelled at him... and now... now the wedding is in two days... I cannot marry Rajesh... I love Arjun... I just want him..."
Vikram hugged me tighter, hands sliding lower, cupping my ass cheeks over the thin nightie, feeling the firm roundness of my naked ass cheeks under the fabric. "Sudha... shh... he misses you too... he sent us... we have a plan..."
Suddenly Suresh stepped in, gently pulling me from Vikram into his complete embrace. His arms wrapped around me fully, one hand sliding down my back to rest on my ass cheeks, fingers spreading over the soft, pantyless mounds through the nightie. My boobs crushed against his chest, nipples hard and rubbing against his shirt, the thin nightie offering almost no barrier. Suresh felt the full, warm weight of my boobs flattening against him, nipples dragging with every shaky breath I took. His other hand rested on my lower back, then slid lower, cupping my right ass cheek, squeezing gently, enjoying the firm, bare feel of my ass cheeks under the thin fabric—no panties to block his touch. His fingers spread slightly, tracing the space between my ass cheeks, feeling the heat there.
I cried harder against Suresh’s shoulder, lost in Arjun’s memory. "I miss him... I love him... I do not want to marry anyone else... please... tell him I am sorry... tell him to save me..."
Suresh hugged me tighter, voice soft. "He knows... he loves you... he is coming for you... we will explain the plan tonight... trust us..."
They held me between them, my naked boobs pressed against one, my pantyless ass cheeks cupped by the other, both enjoying the feel of my body—boobs soft and heavy, ass cheeks firm and warm—while I cried, missing Arjun, heart full of guilt and love.


Vikram began explaining the plan while Suresh continued hugging me tightly, his hands roaming over my ass cheeks under the nightie. His palms spread wide, fingers digging firmly into the bare, rounded flesh of my left and right ass cheeks, squeezing in slow, deliberate pulses, feeling the warm, smooth ass cheeks yield and spring back under his grip. The thin nightie bunched up slightly with every slow knead, letting his fingertips trace the sensitive inner crease where my ass cheeks met the tops of my thighs, the humid air making my bare ass cheeks slick and hot against his rough palms. His cock pressed thick and throbbing against my lower belly through his trousers, pulsing heavily with every shaky breath I took, the rigid length radiating heat straight through the trousers and into my bare pussy lips.
"First... Arjun’s dad Venkatesh Jayanna is in even worse condition now... massive paralysis, constant pain, infections spreading everywhere, barely conscious, moaning in agony day and night... Arjun has to stay with him in Chennai for the next two days... he cannot leave him even for a minute."
I started feeling sorry for Arjun, tears falling faster. I hugged Suresh tighter, feeling like I was hugging my love Arjun, comforting him. My naked boobs crushed harder against his chest, nipples stiff and dragging slowly over his shirt with every shaky sob, the friction sending sharp jolts of heat straight to my pussy lips. Suresh groaned low in his throat, enjoying the feel of my boobs flattening and spreading against him—full, heavy boobs molding to his body, nipples scbanging through the nightie like hard little points begging for attention. His hands kneaded my ass cheeks more firmly, thumbs sliding along the inner curves, brushing dangerously close to my pussy lips, feeling the humid warmth radiating from between my thighs and the slickness gathering at my pussy lips.
Vikram continued. "The plan is... the night before the wedding, Arjun will come. He will be waiting for you in the car on the highway, in the dark. He is sending us—Vikram and Suresh—to pick you up from the Kalyana Mantapam at 10 PM. We will take you to him. He will drive you to Chennai... marry you in the temple... make you his wife forever."
As Suresh said the word Arjun, my body heated instantly, a rush of need flooding between my thighs. I hugged Vikram tighter, pressing my boobs hard against his chest, nipples scbanging over his shirt through the thin nightie. Vikram loved it—feeling my naked boobs crush against him, soft and full, nipples dragging with every breath I took, the heat of my bare boobs seeping through the nightie into his skin. His cock hardened fully against my belly, thick and throbbing, as his hands slid down to cup my ass cheeks under the nightie, squeezing gently, enjoying the bare, warm feel of my ass cheeks in his palms—no panties to block his touch. His fingers spread slightly, tracing the sensitive space between my ass cheeks, feeling the slick heat gathering at my pussy lips and asshole.
I whispered, voice shaky with emotion and growing heat. "Yes... please... take me to him... I want to marry Arjun... I love him... save me..."
While Suresh started explaining more of Arjun’s plan, Vikram pulled me into his hug, taking me into his complete embrace. His arms wrapped fully around me, hands sliding down my back to rest on my ass cheeks, fingers spreading over the soft, pantyless ass cheeks through the thin nightie. My boobs crushed against his chest, nipples hard and rubbing against his shirt, the thin nightie offering almost no barrier. Vikram felt the full, warm weight of my boobs flattening against him, nipples dragging with every breath. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks gently, enjoying the firm, bare feel of my ass cheeks under the nightie—no panties to block his touch. His fingers spread slightly, tracing the sensitive space between my ass cheeks, feeling the slick heat gathering at my pussy lips and asshole.
Suresh continued, voice low. "Arjun has everything arranged... the temple... witnesses... he will marry you before your family can stop it... you will be his wife... forever."
I hugged Vikram tighter, body trembling with emotion and growing heat. "Yes... I want that... I want to be Arjun’s wife... please... make it happen..."
While leaving, Vikram and Suresh looked at me, eyes dark. Vikram spoke softly. "Sudha... Arjun asked for something... your used bra and panties... he wants them... for memory..."
I was confused, but when they said Arjun asked, I nodded immediately. I went inside, straight to my bathroom, opened the laundry bag, picked up two dirty bras and two dirty panties—ones I had worn yesterday, still carrying my scent, wet from sweat between my thighs and under my boobs. I brought them back in my hands, heart racing. Vikram and Suresh took them, brought them to their noses, sniffed deeply—smelling my pussy scent on the panties, my boobs scent on the bras—eyes closing in pleasure, cocks hardening again.
Suresh whispered. "Arjun will love these... thank you... the night before the wedding at 10 PM... we will come and pick you up... be ready..."
I nodded, voice shaky. "I will be ready... thank you... tell Arjun I love him..."
They left quietly into the night, holding my used dirty bra and panties close.




The wedding arrangements were in full swing the next day. The wedding was tomorrow—3rd February 2026. My house on the bride’s side was alive with Tamil cultural rituals from morning till night. The courtyard was filled with banana trees tied at every corner with mango leaves, kolam designs in bright white, red, and yellow powder drawn fresh at the entrance and inside every room, jasmine and rose garlands hanging thick across the pandal and doorways, oil lamps lit in rows, turmeric and kumkum placed in brass plates everywhere. Relatives from both sides had arrived, women in silk sarees bustling around, men in dhotis helping set up the marriage hall decorations.
On the bride’s side, every ritual was followed strictly. During the haldi ceremony, I wore a white dhoti wrapped tightly from my chest to my thighs, covering my boobs and pussy. The naughty aunties lifted the dhoti and rubbed turmeric paste directly over my pussy lips and clit, their fingers spreading my pussy lips open slightly to apply the paste inside, making my pussy lips tingle and glisten yellow. Other aunties inserted their hands inside the dhoti near my boobs, squeezing my boobs and pinching my nipples while applying turmeric on them, their fingers rolling my nipples between them. They giggled, normalizing it as “This is how we bless the bride properly… it is tradition to make sure every part is blessed…” while continuing to rub and squeeze.
Early morning, my mom and aunties performed the nalangu ceremony—placing turmeric and kumkum on my forehead, giving me sweets and fruits, blessing me with rice and coins. They tied the kappu thread around my wrist, applied sandalwood paste on my arms and neck, and gave me new gold bangles to wear. The haldi ceremony followed—women smeared turmeric paste on my face, arms, thighs, and navel, laughing and singing traditional songs, making my skin glow yellow. They poured rose water over my head, then jasmine-scented oil, massaging it into my hair until it shone.
In the afternoon, the pre-muhirtham ritual happened—my dad and mom tied the sacred thread around my wrist again, applying kumkum and turmeric, giving me a new saree to wear for the wedding. They performed the sumangali pooja, inviting married women to bless me with betel leaves, areca nuts, and fruits. My navel was dotted with kumkum, forehead marked with turmeric and sandalwood, wrists adorned with gold bangles, ankles with silver anklets. The priest chanted mantras, placing holy ash on my forehead and neck.
Deep inside, I was nervous as hell. Tonight I was going to elope and marry my love Arjun. My heart raced every time I thought about Vikram and Suresh coming at 10 PM to take me to the highway where Arjun would wait in the car. I was excited, terrified, guilty all at once. I was about to spoil my dad’s dream—he wanted me married to Rajesh, safe, rich, respected. My mom’s dream too—she saw Rajesh as the perfect match, luxury, security, family honor. They had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, and I was going to run away with Arjun, who was poor, who had nothing to offer except love. Even if I explained to my dad and mom, they would never understand. To them, love was not enough—money, status, stability mattered more. They would see Arjun as a nobody, a threat. They would never let me go willingly.
I stood there in my yellow Kanchipuram silk saree with heavy gold zari, yellow blouse, yellow petticoat, bra and panties underneath, boobs pushing hard over the blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks curved perfectly under the saree, navel peeking, hips swaying gracefully as I moved. Everyone praised how beautiful I looked, how perfect the bride was, how lucky Rajesh was. My mom and dad beamed with pride, hugging me, telling me how happy they were, how tomorrow would be the best day of their lives.
But inside, my heart was breaking. I missed Arjun so much it hurt. Guilt choked me—guilt for betraying my dad’s trust, my mom’s dreams, guilt for running away. But love for Arjun was stronger. I wanted to marry him, poor or not. Love mattered to me. I would elope tonight, no matter what. I just prayed Vikram and Suresh would come on time.



In the evening, the bride’s side—my family—prepared to leave for the Kalyana Mantapam to settle down for the night. The muhurtam was tomorrow morning, followed by the reception in the evening. My dad had arranged everything perfectly. A convoy of vehicles waited outside our house: two white Ambassador cars polished to a shine, one black Innova Crysta for the close family, and a large white Tempo Traveller van for the relatives and luggage. The cars were decorated with fresh jasmine garlands dbangd over the hoods and roofs, marigold strings tied to the mirrors, banana leaves fixed at the front grilles, and small mango leaf bunches hanging from the bumpers. Every vehicle had a small turmeric-kumkum mark on the windshield and a tiny silver lamp tied to the front.
My dad, wearing a crisp white dhoti and gold-bordered shirt, stood proudly near the lead Ambassador, checking the drivers and making sure everyone was ready. My mom, in a green silk saree with gold border, carried the small brass tray with betel leaves, areca nuts, turmeric, kumkum, and a lit lamp to perform the final aarti before we left. Relatives—uncles in dhotis, aunties in silk sarees, cousins in kurtis and leggings—loaded bags into the van: my wedding saree wrapped in red cloth, jewelry boxes, sweets for the mandapam, and gifts for Rajesh’s family. Children ran around excitedly, women sang traditional songs, men shouted instructions.
I wore my yellow Kanchipuram silk saree with heavy gold zari, yellow blouse, yellow petticoat, bra and panties underneath, boobs pushing hard over the blouse, nipples poking hard over the blouse, ass cheeks curved perfectly under the saree, navel peeking, hips swaying gracefully as I moved. My friends had helped me dress earlier—adjusting the saree folds, pinning the pallu, tucking jasmine flowers in my hair, applying kumkum on my forehead. Everyone kept saying how beautiful the bride looked, how lucky Rajesh was.
My dad helped me into the black Innova Crysta, sitting beside me in the back seat. My mom sat in front, holding the aarti tray. The convoy started moving slowly out of our street, horns honking softly in celebration, neighbors waving and throwing rice and coins. The drive to the Kalyana Mantapam took thirty minutes through village roads and the main highway. The lead Ambassador carried the priest and close family elders. The Tempo Traveller followed with the rest of the relatives, music playing inside. My dad kept looking at me, smiling proudly. "Tomorrow you will be Rajesh’s wife... I am so happy, Sudha... this is the best thing for you."
We reached the grand entrance of the Kalyana Mantapam just as the sun set. A massive board stood proud on tall wooden stands wrapped in fresh banana leaves and strings of marigold. Bold letters in bright gold paint declared Rajesh Weds Sudha in both Tamil and English, the names shining under the last orange light of the setting sun. Below the names, tomorrow's date glowed large and clear: 3rd February 2026, promising the sacred union tomorrow morning at eight. Jasmine garlands dbangd thick around the edges of the board, white and yellow flowers woven tight, releasing their heavy sweet perfume into the cooling evening air. Small electric bulbs framed the board, still unlit but ready to sparkle white and gold once full darkness arrived.
The mandapam gates were wide open, decorated with banana trees, mango leaves, and flower arches. Relatives from both sides had already started arriving. My dad stepped out first, helping me down from the car. I walked slowly in my yellow saree, hips swaying, boobs bouncing gently over the blouse, ass cheeks moving under the saree, feeling every eye on me. My mom performed a small aarti at the entrance, circling the lamp around my face, blessing me one last time before we entered.



Inside the vast main hall of the Kalyana Mantapam, the air buzzed with low voices, laughter, and the soft clink of bangles. Long rows of white plastic chairs faced the raised mandap stage, where brass lamps, turmeric, kumkum, and coconuts waited for tomorrow's rituals. Ceiling fans stirred the warm air scented with incense, camphor, and sandalwood.
Men filled one side in crisp white dhotis and shirts, older ones discussing land and prestige, younger ones glancing toward the women with quiet hunger.
Married women gathered in bright clusters, sarees dbangd over full bodies, boobs pushing heavy against tight blouses, nipples sometimes poking hard over the blouse, low-tied sarees revealing deep navels glistening with sweat, ass cheeks swaying under saree folds, panty line visible over ass cheeks over the saree. Their movements teased, boobs jiggling softly, mangalsutra pendants swinging between cleavage as they bent or whispered.
Unmarried girls moved boldly in half sarees, short pallu barely covering boobs, midriffs bare showing flat stomachs and tempting navels, blouses hugging perky boobs, nipples poking sharp over the blouse, half sarees tied low revealing panty edges, panty line sharp over firm ass cheeks over the half saree. They giggled, bending forward, letting boobs strain over low necklines, hips rolling, thighs flashing, teasing the boys who watched every jiggle of ass cheeks and bounce of boobs.
The hall pulsed with anticipation, bodies close, scents mixing, eyes meeting and sliding away, everyone waiting for tomorrow's rituals.
Deep inside, I was nervous as hell. Tonight I was going to elope and marry my love Arjun. My heart raced every time I thought about Vikram and Suresh coming at 10 PM to take me away. I was excited, terrified, guilty all at once. I was about to spoil my dad’s dream—he wanted me married to Rajesh, safe, rich, respected. My mom’s dream too—she saw Rajesh as the perfect match, luxury, security, family honor. They had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, and I was going to run away with Arjun, who was poor, who had nothing to offer except love. Even if I explained to my dad and mom, they would never understand. To them, love was not enough—money, status, stability mattered more. They would see Arjun as a nobody, a threat. They would never let me go willingly.


As the sun set behind the coconut groves, the grand hall of the Kalyana Mantapam quieted. Ceiling fans spun lazily, pushing warm air scented with lingering incense, camphor, and arrack smoke.
Old women claimed corners near the walls, spreading thin mats on the marble floor. They sat cross-legged in faded sarees, pallu tucked over shoulders, mangalsutra resting between boobs that sagged softly inside old blouses. They murmured gossip about alliances and sweets, rocking grandchildren until the children slept against their shoulders.
Married women drifted apart, some still chatting in low tones, boobs rising and falling under tight blouses, deep navels exposed below low-tied sarees. Panty line visible over ass cheeks over the saree when they shifted. Most lay down on mats, sarees fanning out, hips curving softly, thighs pressed together under petticoats, falling into light sleep.
On the men’s side, the mood loosened. Groups huddled around low benches, arrack bottles passing hand to hand. They laughed, slapped thighs wrapped in white dhotis, played cards, smoked beedis. As bottles emptied, voices slurred, men slumped forward, heads on folded arms, dhotis loosening, some stretching out on the floor snoring, others leaning against pillars, eyes closed, mouths slack.
The hall settled into a deep hush—slow fan whir, soft baby whimpers, distant snores, rustle of sarees. Outside, crickets sang; inside, everyone waited for dawn and tomorrow’s wedding.
Deep inside, I was nervous as hell. Tonight I was going to elope and marry my love Arjun. My heart raced every time I thought about Vikram and Suresh coming at 10 PM to take me away. I was excited, terrified, guilty all at once. I was about to spoil my dad’s dream—he wanted me married to Rajesh, safe, rich, respected. My mom’s dream too—she saw Rajesh as the perfect match, luxury, security, family honor. They had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, and I was going to run away with Arjun, who was poor, who had nothing to offer except love. Even if I explained to my dad and mom, they would never understand. To them, love was not enough—money, status, stability mattered more. They would see Arjun as a nobody, a threat. They would never let me go willingly.