[SilverArrow]

Hello Readers 

A new story bordered on  an Urban modern couple as they navigate their marriage and fast paced city life . Do let me know your valued feedback for me to improve 

Thanks 

Chapter 1: The New Flat in Sector 62


The evening light in Noida was the colour of warm brass, slanting through the half-open balcony doors of the third-floor flat in Sector 137. Monica Patel stood at the kitchen counter in a thin white tank top and black yoga pants, unpacking the last of the dinner plates. 

Behind her, Rakesh her husband sat at the small dining table, still in his office formals , scrolling through his phone. His shoulders were narrow, his posture slightly hunched even when he wasn’t tired. At thirty-four he had already settled into the quiet, harmless rhythm of a man who had once harbored ambitions of conquering the world. He ofcourse did not make it that big , but he worked hard at his job . Today he is a DGM at the Metro Rail Corporation—respectable, steady but also utterly unremarkable. 
He recently got a promotion to lead the groundwork of the new Noida - Meerut rapid transit railway network. And thats why the couple shifted from the comfortable familiar confines of Gurgaon to this relatively unknown as well as deserted pocket of Noida right across the Meerut expressway. 

Rakesh and Monica were married about a couple of years ago after dating together for a year. They met at a family function and instantly hit off. Monica had come out of a bad breakup with her long standing boyfriend and found Rakesh uncomplicated and matured. He was simple and fun with no drama and no U turn in life. The stability Monica never found with her ex boyfriend. Hence , for Rakesh it was not very difficult to woo Monica. 

The calculative and mathematical brain Rakesh had , he had his lines and plans always ready for Monica. Be it planning for the fancy dinner dates or buying the most thoughtful gifts for birthday, Rakesh almost had an excel sheet for every ocassion. Meticulously planned and executed like an absolute Pro. Rakesh obviously was smitten by Monica's beauty. Rakesh's friends were overtly jealous of how Monica was nothing short of an absolute jackpot for Rakesh. 

Rakesh knew why!

The fabric of the tank top clung to the deep curve of Monica's lower back before flaring over the generous, taut swell of her sexy ass. Every time she reached up to the overhead shelf to put something there , the hem of the tank rode higher, exposing a teasing strip of smooth, fair skin above the waistband of her panties. Her proud 34D breasts shifted heavily with the motion, firm and full, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide the faint outline of her nipples in the cool breeze from the AC.
She was thirty-one, and she knew exactly how she made people oogle at her. Her large firm tits would attract male gaze instantly wherever she went and both Monica and Rakesh knew that her breasts have only become juicier due to Rakesh's unforgiving mauling and sucking every night. 

Rakesh glanced up once, eyes flicking over the way Monica’s ass moved as she bent to slide the plates into the lower cabinet. The heavy, rounded globes of her ass jiggled once, twice, then settled. He looked back at his phone almost immediately, as if the dirty sight embarrassed him.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Monica said without turning around. Her voice was low, a little husky from the long day of client calls. “I made your favourite dal. The one with the extra tadka.”
Rakesh nodded. “Thank you, baby.” The endearment sounded automatic, polite. He cleared his throat. “How was your day today ?”
Monica straightened, brushing a strand of straight black hair behind her ear. The motion lifted her breasts again, stretching the tank top across them. She turned, leaning back against the counter, arms loosely crossed under her chest so that the soft, heavy flesh pushed together and upward. 

“Same as always,” she said, smiling the small, professional smile she used on hesitant clients. “Two new policies closed. One guy from Chandigarh wanted to flirt the whole time instead of signing. Kept calling me ‘ma’am’ like it was a compliment.” She gave a soft laugh, but there was an edge to it. “I smiled and closed the deal anyway. Thirty-eight lakhs premium. My branch head was happy.”
Monica worked as a closing sales manager for a MNC insurance company. The company specialized in selling high end insurance cover for corporates and Monica off late has been killing at her role. It was only October and she had already clocked more than 10 crores of Sales , hitting the yearly target with almost 3 months left in the year. 

Rakesh’s eyes flicked to the delicious aroma of the tadka for half a second, then away.

 “That’s good. Very good.” He adjusted his glasses. “The flat still feels… new, na? Not like Gurgaon.”
Monica looked around the open-plan living-dining area. The walls were still bare except for one large framed wedding photo they had hung that morning. In it she was smiling brightly in a red lehenga, Rakesh beside her looking slightly stunned, as if he still couldn’t believe she had said yes. 

The flat smelled of fresh paint and the faint jasmine scent of the air freshener she had plugged in earlier.
“I like it,” she said. “More space. Better view of the metro line from the balcony. And it’s closer to my office in Sector 62. Twenty minutes instead of an hour in traffic.” She paused, then added lightly, “You’ll be home earlier too, right? Now that your new office is close by ”

Rakesh gave a small shrug. “Meetings have started piling up. The Japanese consultants are coming next month. Lots of presentations.” He smiled, the kind of smile that never quite reached his eyes. “But yes, I’ll try.”
Monica looked  at the timid slope of his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped nervously on the phone case. 
She pushed off the counter and walked over to him, the soft pad of her bare feet silent on the tiled floor. When she reached the table she leaned down, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing a nonexistent speck of lint from his shirt. Her breasts brushed his arm, full and warm through the thin fabric. She felt him stiffen slightly, the way he always did when she got this close.

“You’ve been quiet since we moved,” she murmured, voice softer now. “Everything okay, Rakesh?”
He looked up at her. For a second his gaze dropped to the deep valley of cleavage inches from his face, then jerked back to her eyes. A faint flush crept up his neck.
“Just… adjusting,” he said. “New locality. New flat. New responsibilities at work.” He reached up and patted her hand where it rested on his shoulder, a quick, almost affectionate touch. 

“You’re handling everything so well. The packing, the shifting, your sales targets. I don’t know how you do it.”

Monica smiled, but the smile didn’t quite touch her eyes. She straightened, letting her fingers trail along the side of his neck for a moment before she turned back toward the kitchen.
“Because someone has to Right ?” she said lightly, almost to herself.
She opened the fridge to take out the curd, bending slightly at the waist. The yoga pants stretched tight across her ass, the material thin enough to show the faint outline of the tiny black panties she wore underneath. The cool air raised goosebumps along the exposed strip of skin above the waistband.
Rakesh watched. He always watched when he thought she wasn’t looking. His throat worked once, but he said nothing. 

Outside, the metro train rumbled past on the elevated track, its lights streaking across the balcony doors like slow golden comets. Inside, Monica and Rakesh settled in for a cozy comfortable dinner after a hard draining day. 



Chapter 2: Dust and Desire

The fourth-floor apartment in Sector 62 overlooked a strange contradiction that Noida still hadn’t resolved. Below the gleaming glass-and-steel high-rise, the approach roads were little more than dust bowls—potholed stretches of gravel and loose earth that turned into choking clouds by day and pitch-black voids after sunset. Streetlights flickered weakly or not at all. The posh society’s boundary wall ended abruptly, and just beyond it sprawled a sprawling slum, its tin roofs and narrow lanes overflowing with filth and muck!

Monica had noticed the men almost every night from her balcony—shadowy figures passing small packets, inhaling deeply, laughing in low, rough voices. The slum was notorious for drugs and gaanja ; everyone in the society whispered about it but no one complained too loudly. The high-rises had come up too fast, and the city’s underbelly had simply stayed put.

Monica stepped out of the Rapido cab that evening, slightly unsteady. The driver had pulled over on the empty highway stretch near the Sector 62 flyover, engine idling in the gathering dark. “Madam, one minute only please friend waiting just there,” he had said, eyes sliding openly to the deep V of her white formal shirt. The fabric had stretched tight across her 34D breasts during the bumpy ride, the top two buttons undone because of the heat resulting in a decently hot cleavage show. She had felt his stare like fingers on her skin—lingering on the soft upper swell, the faint outline of her bra. Heart hammering, she had snapped, “No. Drive straight to the society please ..I ..I am getting late ” .. Obviously, Monica was scared ... 

The man had muttered angrily under his breath the entire remaining distance, knuckles white on the wheel. She had sat rigid, too scared to say anything more, thighs pressed together, silently cursing herself for choosing the cab over the metro. Metro would have been safer. Metro didn’t stop in the middle of nowhere.

By the time she reached the flat, the fear had settled into a low, humming tension between her legs.

Rakesh was already home. 

He looked up with his usual mild expression. “Long day?”
Monica kicked off her heels, the movement making her big, taut ass jiggle inside the pencil skirt. “You have no idea.” She poured herself a glass of water. 

Over dinner—she told him the whole story: the sudden stop, the driver’s request, the angry drive, the way his eyes had devoured her tits in the formal shirt the whole journey!

Rakesh listened, fork paused halfway to his mouth. Then he chuckled, a soft, harmless sound. “These cab drivers… animals. Good you said no. Metro next time, Mon! Much safer.”

She laughed too, the sound bright and relieved in the quiet flat. The fear melted into something warmer as she watched her husband’s timid smile. After the plates were cleared and the lights dimmed, the laughter didn’t stop. It followed them into the bedroom.

Clothes came off slowly. Monica peeled away her blue tee , letting her heavy, firm Bra less breasts spill free—round, firm, nipples already tight. Rakesh’s eyes widened the way they always did, as if he still couldn’t believe she was his. 

She shimmied out of the sweatpants and panties, turning so he could see the full, plush curve of her ass, the way it jiggled when she bent to step out of the fabric.

 Naked, she was a vision—fair skin glowing under the bedside lamp, hourglass body slim yet lush exactly where a man’s hands wanted to grab.

Rakesh was gentle, almost apologetic as he climbed over her. His touch was soft, reverent. He kissed her neck while his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing the stiff peaks. Monica moaned low in her throat, arching into him. When he finally pushed his penis inside her—slow, careful—she wrapped her long legs around his waist and rocked her ass , feeling the familiar, safe fullness.

“Harder, baby.. you have reasons to be harder today ” she whispered, voice husky.

He tried. His thrusts were earnest but never quite commanding, the bed creaking softly under them. Monica’s moans grew louder, unrestrained. Her big breasts bounced with every movement, nipples dark and perky. She grabbed his shoulders, urging him deeper, her taut ass lifting off the sheets to meet him.

Between gasps, she laughed again. “If I scream too loud… the whole slum will wake up.”
Rakesh chuckled against her throat, panting due to the immense force he was trying to gather . “Let them hear. They’ll think some hot memsaab is getting the time of her life.”


The joke made her clench around him. Her moans turned sharper, breathier. “Imagine them… down there… doing their drugs… and hearing me cum…”
He groaned, pace quickening just a little. Monica’s head fell back, full lips parted, dark hair fanned across the pillow. Her body glistened with a light sheen of sweat; every jiggle of her ass, every bounce of her heavy tits drove the pleasure higher. She released first—loud, unashamed—crying out as the orgasm rolled through her in hot waves. Rakesh followed moments later, burying his face between her breasts, muffling his own quiet release.
They lay tangled afterward, breathing slowing. The flat was silent except for the distant hum of the metro line. 

Monica slipped out of bed after a while, still naked, and walked to the balcony. Cool night air brushed over her flushed skin, tightening her nipples again. Below, the slum flickered with those familiar orange points of light. She could just make out figures moving in the shadows—passing something hand to hand, the faint scent of smoke drifting up on the breeze. One man looked up toward the high-rise, as if he could sense her watching.
She smiled to herself, a small, secret curve of her lips. The cab driver’s hungry stare. The dark, desolate roads. The slum that never slept. This new part of Noida felt raw, unfinished… alive in a way Gurgaon never had.
Behind her, Rakesh called softly from the bed, voice already sleepy. “Coming back, Mon?”
“Yea” she answered, voice silky.

She stayed on the balcony a moment longer, the night air tracing every curve of her body like a promise. 

[SilverArrow]

Chapter 3 : The Spicy Encounter

The next day passed as it is.
In the night, after coming back from office, Monica and Rakesh were having dinner at their usual dining table under the soft yellow light. The food was on the plates, but neither was really eating. Rakesh was still in his office shirt, sleeves rolled up, while Monica wore nothing but a loose, thin satin white slip that did nothing to hide her hardening nipples and huge unapologetic cleavage .

Monica suddenly looked up taking a bite of cucumber salad from the plate , a shy but excited smile on her lips.

“Hey… I forgot to tell you something.”
Rakesh’s fork stopped mid-air. He could read the naughty tension in her voice instantly. “What?”
Monica took a slow breath and started narrating the morning incident, her words low and full of that delicious mix of embarrassment and thrill.

“I was still sleeping completely naked after last night’s fuck… not a stitch on me, just that thin blanket pulled up to my chin. You had left early for office. I was so sleepy I didn’t even bother to bolt the main door — it was wide open. The maid just walked straight in through the open door and started working. And you wont believe Rak! Today the maid had brought in her hubby as well to our home ! And I was still lying there in bed, stark naked under the blanket…”

Rakesh eyebrows slanted in surprise..

She paused, cheeks flushing deeper, then added shyly, almost whispering:
“And that man… the hubby… was fucking inside my bedroom.”

Rakesh’s eyes widened. His hand slid under the table and gripped her bare thigh hard. “What was he doing inside the bedroom Mon?”

Monica bit her lower lip. “I don’t know… maybe he was helping her mop the floor properly. I woke up to the sound of both of them moving around — buckets, mops, footsteps — and realized I was lying there totally bare under just that one flimsy blanket… with both of them right there in our bedroom.”

Rakesh’s fingers dug deeper. “Both of them knew?”

“Yes,” Monica continued, voice trembling. “I didn’t dare move. I just lay there frozen, clutching the blanket tight against my breasts and between my thighs. The celing fan did flutter my blanket off , but I somehow held on to it ...
But I could feel their eyes the whole time. The maid kept glancing at the bed. Her husband tried to act normal, but every few seconds his gaze flicked back. They both knew I was completely naked underneath. One wrong shift and everything would have been on display.”

She went on, the tension building.

“After they finished, they realized I needed privacy .. so they bolted the door from outside. I waited till they stepped out for a second, quickly grabbed my night slip , put it on, and came out acting all normal. .."

" Holy Fuck Mon!" Rakesh gently caressed her cunt under the table , his fingers trying to caress the lips of her shaved cunt...
" Then ?" Rakesh asked with heat radiating all over his body
" Then…I wanted to make things normal , the man i mean the hubby had come first time to our place , So  I sweetly served him the chocolate cake that I made over the weekend... I made it look casual, like it was just out of courtesy — ‘fresh from yesterday, have some.’

Monica looked straight into Rakesh’s eyes, no filter. “You know Rak these maids and their slum gossip culture… it’s dangerous. In the basti, news spreads like wildfire. Every morning the women gather at the common tap or the tea stall, and within minutes they’re dissecting every  household they work in. What the memsaab wore to bed, what the saab does at night, how much they spend — everything becomes entertainment. The husbands join in during evening chai sessions. One whisper from the maid or her hubby and the whole slum would know: ‘Arre, woh  memsaab toh raat ko nangi soti hai sex ke baad!’ I didn’t want that kind of gossip about me circulating in their basti. I didn’t want the whole slum laughing and talking about the great sex life my sweet husband is giving me” Monica giggled...

After completing dinner , she added the final piece.
“When I was serving them the cake… I felt him staring straight at my tits. My nipples were poking against the thin fabric. And that’s when I got really worried. I think he must have got some great naked show when I turned once on the bed in my sleep. The blanket must have slipped a lot...Who knows ?"

Rakesh’s grip on her thigh was almost painful now. The tension between them crackled.
Monica looked at him, raw and honest.

Rakesh pushed his chair back. He stood up, pulled Monica to her feet, and kissed her hard — hungry, possessive. His hands slid under her satin slip , cupping her bare breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples roughly.

“Fuck, Monica…” he growled against her mouth. “You were lying there completely naked while another man was inside our bedroom”

They both laughed breathlessly, the laughter turning dirty and playful as they joked casually right there by the table.

“So tell me honestly,” Rakesh teased, voice low, “what all do you think the maid’s hubby could have seen this morning? Just a quick flash of your tits when the blanket slipped?”

Monica giggled, pressing her body against his. “Maybe more… the way he stared at my tits while I served the cake, I think he got a great show. hopefully the gossip stays locked in their house only.”

Rakesh lifted her up in one smooth motion and carried her straight to the bedroom — the same room where it had all happened that morning. He dropped her onto the mattress, pinning her down, already pushing her thin satin dress up and over her head.


Monica pulled him down on top of her, legs wrapping around his waist tightly, eyes shining with wicked thrill.
“Look how hard you are mister!” she whispered, smiling that mischievous smile she saved only for him.

The tension that had built at the dinner table exploded as their bodies crashed together. Clothes were gone in seconds. Their laughter mixed with deep, loud moans and gasps as Rakesh fucked her hard and slow, then faster, driven by every filthy word she moaned in his ear.
They came together that night — raw, intense, and completely lost in each other — their sacred husband-wife bond stronger and spicier than ever, fueled once again by the secrets they shared so freely.

[SilverArrow]

Interesting story. Wonderful descriptions.
Please add photos as well for rakesh abd monica.

Looking forward to see her descent into the quicksand.

Thanks for the appreciation

[SilverArrow]

Excellent story

Thanks ..

[SilverArrow]

Very good.

Thanks so much for your support

[SilverArrow]

Just helping readers imagine Monica and Rakesh

[SilverArrow]

Monica and Rakesh enjoying a cozy drink in their balcony overlooking the notorious slum

[SilverArrow]

Chapter 4 : The Much awaited Reunion Planned



A couple of months had slipped by in the quiet satellite town, and Monica and Rakesh had settled into its lazy rhythm . Gone were the glassy high-rises and plastic perfection of Gurgaon. Here, life moved slower—rustic, peaceful, almost sleepy. The winter had painted everything in soft, hazy tones: cold foggy mornings that made the windows sweat, gentle afternoon warmth that coaxed people out onto rooftops, and long, dark, desolate nights that wrapped the streets in silence. Monica loved it most of the time—the way the fog turned their balcony into a private little world, the way Rakesh would pull her close under a thick blanket while they sipped evening tea.

But she was still wary of the nights. Especially when she had to walk back from the market or the auto stand near the slum. She could feel the hungry male eyes on her jiggling ass even in the dark—laborers, watchmen, the young boys who hung around the tea stalls. They never said anything outright, but she knew exactly what they were doing: undressing her with their stares, lingering on the swell of her full tits straining against whatever top she wore, tracing the curve of her taut, fat ass that swayed just a little extra when she walked fast. It made her heart race in a way that was equal parts fear and that secret, forbidden thrill she only ever admitted to Rakesh.

Life moved on anyway.

It was a lazy Sunday winter morning, the kind where the sun filtered weakly through the fog and the whole apartment smelled of fresh coffee. Rakesh was sprawled on the couch in just his boxers, scrolling through his phone, when it rang. Vishal’s name flashed on the screen.

“Helloooooo bhai!” Vishal’s voice boomed from Los Angeles , loud and excited even through the speaker. “Saloni and I are landing in Delhi for New Year. Holiday time, yaar. We will be coming to India for this holiday and would stop over by Delhi ! And guess what—Deepak is joining from Chandigarh. So yea lets plan a full college gang reunion, bro! Gala get-together, non-stop masti.”

Rakesh’s face lit up. He put the call on speaker so Monica could hear. She turned, eyes wide with genuine delight.
“Gawd, we’ll be meeting like after two whole years, eh?” she said excitedly, walking over and plopping down beside Rakesh, her hand automatically resting on his bare chest. “Tell Vishal we’re dying to see them!”

Rakesh grinned and relayed the message. By the end of the call, it was decided—they would all stay at Monica and Rakesh’s apartment in Noida whenever the dates worked in December. Perfect hosts, perfect reunion.

That night, after dinner, Monica was curled up against Rakesh on the bed, wearing nothing but a soft satin slip that clung to her curves. The winter chill made her nipples press visibly against the thin fabric. She traced lazy circles on his stomach with her fingertip.
“So the college gang is back, Rak?” she asked, her voice dropping into that teasing, sassy lilt she knew drove him crazy. “Non-stop party, non-stop booze, just like the old days? We better make it count, baby.”

Rakesh chuckled, his hand sliding down to squeeze her ass possessively. “Exactly. We’re gonna get properly sloshed.”

Monica smiled that mischievous, naughty smile she saved for him—the one that always made his pulse jump. She lifted her head, eyes sparkling with wicked playfulness. “We should also arrange some good gaanja then Rak! The gang was so damn fond of it during bachelor days. Remember how Vishal and Deepak used to roll the fattest joints and talk absolute nonsense till sunrise? And in the morning forget it all !! Let’s give them the real deal this time… none of that weak imported shit ”
Rakesh’s eyes also lit up instantly. He loved this version of Monica—the sassy, bold, unapologetically naughty wife who wasn’t afraid to enjoy life!

“Fuck, yes. I ... I was thinking exactly about those late night house parties .. remember the place where we met first Mon ? But where the hell do we get good stuff from here? We’re not in college anymore.”

Monica bit her lower lip, looking up at him with a grin

“Why ? The basti is right there, baby. Right behind our building. I see people openly doing stuff there ! There can’t be a better source to procure from.” She laughed softly, the sound low and wicked.

"The Slum ? Ahh!!! " Rakesh looked at her

“Though I’m not sure how we go around asking for gaanja openly without the whole slum talking about us. By now, half those men must have jerked off a hundred times thinking about me anyway… might as well give them one more reason to remember this 'hot' memsaab”
Monica laughed!
Rakesh laughed too, but his hand tightened on her ass. “I’ll think of something.”

Monica raised an eyebrow, tilting her head with mock innocence. “What? Come on, spill it, Rak. Don’t leave me hanging.”

He just smirked. “Trust me on this"

A couple of days later, on a foggy evening when the apartment lights were already on, Rakesh finally spoke while they were sharing a glass of wine on the balcony. The cold air made Monica’s cheeks pink and her nipples tighten under her thin sweater. She listened, glass halfway to her lips

“The watchman—Bagha,” Rakesh said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You talk to him one day. Use that feminine charm of yours… maybe wear something with a little cleavage show. Tell him you want to do something for drug addicts in the area—some CSR, some NGO shit, whatever sounds believable. Act all concerned and innocent. He’ll eat it up and spill the name of the guy who has the best supply in the basti. Then we contact that guy quietly, get what we need. Simple.”

Monica stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing—genuine, delighted, a little shocked. She set her wine down and said
“You evil, twisted genius” she purred

“Thats damn good idea Rak! ” She grinned, that sassy spark fully alive, voice dripping with playful heat. “Even after the get together, we can get some stuff for ourselves when we feel bored during the weekends.. Sounds a deal... But ?"
" But ?" Rakesh’s hands adjusted his spectacles nervously ...

“Bagha ? I mean he looks simple and decent, but can he be trusted ? ” she murmured

" Bagha need not know anything ... He should only know you are helping the young guys either with counselling or gift as part of some corporate CSR scheme !"

The winter fog curled around them like a secret, the distant lights of the slum twinkling below. The plan was filthy, risky, and perfectly them—two best companions for life who turned every dirty little idea into fuel for their marriage.
And as the night grew darker and colder around their warm bodies, Monica whispered one last sassy promise against his ear, her breath hot and teasing:

“Just make sure I don’t have to walk past that slum alone after dark once the gaanja guy knows our names… unless you want me coming home dripping wet from all those hungry eyes stripping me bare on the way.”

Rakesh groaned and laughed in a comical manner.

[SilverArrow]

Chapter 6 : The contact unearthed


The new year eve was just a week away, and a lazy holiday mood had wrapped itself around the entire satellite town like a soft winter fog.
On a Saturday morning, Rakesh got dressed and said " Baby , i need to go for a quick site visit today!"
" What ? Today is Saturday Rak!" Monica was still sleepy lying lazily under the blanket

" I know honey , you know these Japanese consultants , by the way some news for you "
"


" What?"
Rakesh spoke while packing his office laptop bag " So Vishal called ..said the Noida pollution will be unbearable for him and Saloni.. so now we will be going off to Manali for the get together "
" Thats fucking awesome.. Its snowing in Manali now.. Vishal is such a sweetheart ..and Deepak ?" Monica said excitedly..
" Yea for Deepak its easier to travel from Chandigarh.. he is doing all the bookings.. we will start from here early Morning next Friday.. "
Rakesh paused and was wearing his shoes..
" And Mon , Vishal and Deepak already gave me a crazy ass list of all the stuff they wanted to smoke up in the mountains.. " Rakesh laughed .
Monica smiled " Yea. Expected ..So shall i speak to Bagha today ?"
" Yes .. If we dont get things for them , both Vishal and Deepak will bury us alive!" Rakesh laughed ...
" Rak, they are coming all the way from Los Angeles, let them taste some really good stuff before they go back to their boring NRI life ..Eh ?"
Rakesh kissed Monica and went to work.


Monica had few work VCs to complete in the day , At the stroke of Evening , she stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom  - She had chosen a soft, cream-coloured cashmere V-neck sweater —  The deep V dipped naturally between her full breasts, offering an unapologetic sexy view of her smooth, fair cleavage whenever she leaned forward or moved. It wasn’t flashy; it was just… her.
Paired with it were simple blue denims that clung to her taut, round ass and long legs, and simple indoor slippers. Her long dark hair was left loose and wavy, a few strands falling playfully over one shoulder. A touch of nude lipstick, kajal that made her eyes pop, and a light spritz of her favourite perfume — sweet vanilla with a hint of musk. She looked like she is stepping out for a relaxing weekend walk!
Monica took a slow breath, feeling that familiar flutter low in her belly — part nerves, part wicked excitement.

The late evening haze had turned the compound golden. Bagha was at his usual spot near the main gate, sitting on a plastic chair outside his tiny security cabin, sipping chai from a steel glass. He was in his late forties, stocky, with a thick moustache and the kind of watchful eyes that missed nothing. When he saw Monica walking towards him, his posture straightened immediately.
“Namaste, memsaab,” he said, standing up quickly, voice respectful but already carrying that slight rasp of appreciation. His gaze flicked down for half a second — exactly where she knew it would — before snapping back to her face.
Monica gave a warm smile,  “Arre Bagha saab, namaste. Kaise ho aap? Chai pi rahe ho? Winter mein toh garam chai hi ek sahara hai na?”

Bagha chuckled, a little nervous but clearly pleased she had remembered his name.

“Haan memsaab, bilkul. Kya bhayanak Sardi aaye hai bhagwan!! ”

She laughed lightly, shifting her weight so the soft sweater moved just enough to let the afternoon light catch the swell of her breasts.

“ Ha woh to hai.. Sardi is baar to kafi jyada hai . Aapko kuch garam kapde wagera chahie to batana please..  "
Bagha smiled , happy Monica wanted to gift him something....
" Ji .. Memsaab!"

" Acha .. Bagha Saab If you are okay .. I wanted to talk about something " Monica hesitated a bit and then said " Maybe I wanted to do something useful for the area.”

Bagha’s eyes widened a fraction. He pulled the door of his small security cabin. “Arre memsaab, aap aandar aiyee na. Please Boliye, kya baat hai?”

Monica felt a nauseated smell inside - may be due to cheap local alcohol or unwashed dirty clothes. Nevertheless she went inside and sat down gracefully, crossing her legs, the denims stretching tight over her thighs. She leaned forward slightly as she spoke, the V-neck doing its natural, effortless work.

“Actually, Bagha Saab ” she began, voice smooth and friendly, “Rakesh and I have been living here for a few months now and we really  this place. But I keep seeing the basti area behind our building !  Every morning when I step out on the balcony I see so many young boys just hanging around, doing nothing. And with new year coming, my company was trying to do some CSR activity. You know, help the youth who get into bad habits — drugs, alcohol, all that.” Monica stopped trying to ascertain whether the carefully crafted lie landed well!

Bagha nodded slowly, taking another sip of chai, but his eyes kept drifting. “Haan memsaab, basti mein problem toh bahut hai. Ladke log time-pass karte hain, kuch galat cheezon mein pad jaate hain.”

Monica tilted her head, looking genuinely concerned, but her tone stayed light and sassy. “Exactly. I don’t want to do big lectures or anything preachy. Just something practical. Maybe arrange a small awareness camp or help connect them to some de-addiction centre after new year. But I don’t know the area at all. Who controls things? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or look like some outsider  interfering.”

She leaned forward a little more pretending to adjust on the small stool , giving Bagha a clear, lingering view of her deep cleavage. The cashmere sweater stretched softly, the shadow between her breasts warm and inviting. Bagha’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked away quickly, but the flush on his neck was unmistakable.

“Memsaab, aap bahut achhi soch rakhti ho,” he said, voice a little thicker now.

“Jitna mujhe pata hai... Basti mein ek-do log hi sab kuch handle karte hain. Local Daaru , Drugs ki supply, local network — sab unke haath mein hota hai. Agar aap sach mein help karna chahti ho, toh seedha un logon se baat karni padegi. Warna kuch nahi hoga.”

Monica smiled, bold and confident, but kept her voice casual, like they were just two neighbours chatting.
“Toh aap hi batao na, Bagha ji. Kaun hai woh log? Main toh bilkul nahi jaanti. I just want to understand how can i help ?"

Bagha hesitated for a second, glancing around the empty compound. The tension was subtle but electric — Monica could feel it in the way he shifted in his chair, the way his eyes kept returning to the soft curve of her breasts every time she moved. She didn’t adjust her sweater this time. She held her posture silently letting Bagha enjoy that daring huge cleavage show , probably the sexiest show he would have got in lifetime..

Bagha could still manage his face composure .. Finally, he lowered his voice.

“Dekhiye memsaab… sabse bada network Sadlur ka hai. Woh banda basti ke andar hi rehta hai, peeche wali gali mein. Supply ka full setup hai uska — good quality, regular customers. Agar aapko real picture dekhna hai ya help karna hai, toh usse baat kar lo. Main aapko uska number de sakta hoon, ya bol doon kaise pahunch sakte ho. Lekin dhyan rakhna… woh log seedha nahi milte. Pehle kisi ko bhejna padta hai.”

Monica’s heart gave a quick, thrilled thump, but her face stayed perfectly composed — sassy, confident, in total control. “Sadlur?” she repeated
“Okay!  And how do I reach him without looking like I’m… you know, some one poking around?”
Bagha gave her a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “Main ek ladke ko bol deta hoon — mera dost ka beta. Kal subah 10 baje gate pe milwa doonga. Woh aapko leke jaayega. Bas aap usko bolo ki maine bheja hai. Simple.”

Monica gave Bagha her brightest, most genuine-looking smile. “Bagha ji, you are a lifesaver. Really. I knew talking to you was the smartest thing. Thank you so much.” She stood up slowly, letting the sweater fall back into place, but the image was already burned into his mind.

Bagha nodded, almost reverently. “Bilkuul memsaab. Koi aur help chahie to please batana aap!”
Monica turned to leave,
“Aur Bagha Saab ,  mere husband ki kuch sweater aur jackets hai .. really good quality...If you are ok .aap pehen sakte ho.”
He smiled " Bahut shukriya Madam... Sirf 1-2 hi kaafi hai ji "

She walked back towards the building, hips swaying just a little more than usual, feeling the heat of his stare on her ass the entire way. The moment she stepped inside the elevator,
She typed quickly to Rakesh:
Done. Got the name — Sadlur. Full network. Bagha’s setting up a meet tomorrow morning.  Wait till I tell you every single thing… especially the part where he couldn’t stop staring at my tits while pretending to be helpful ?
She hit send, leaned back against the elevator wall, and let out a soft laugh...

[SilverArrow]

Monica talking with Bhaga

[SilverArrow]

Awesome narration.... You are building up a slow burn kink with lot of real life description.. its like when i am reading every line i can see the scenes before my eyes...well done... please update soon..

Thanks a zillion for support and tutelage

[SilverArrow]

Super start to the story.

Thanks so much

[SilverArrow]

Such a fantastic read. Your writing is so engaging; I was thinking about the characters and couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen next.

Thanks so much for your encouragement and support.. means a world

[SilverArrow]

The Sunday morning sun filtered weakly through the winter haze, turning their balcony into a quiet little cocoon. Monica and Rakesh were sipping coffee at the small table outside, still in their night clothes — she in a loose satin slip that barely reached mid-thigh, he in just boxers. The plan they had set in motion with Bagha was now real, and the air between them hummed with that familiar mix of excitement and nervous energy.
Rakesh set his mug down and leaned back, stretching. “So… today’s the day we meet Sadlur. I’ve been thinking. Meeting him right inside the basti feels too risky. Let’s do it smarter. Near the market area —under that big banyan tree. Public enough that nothing funny can happen, but quiet enough for a proper chat. You talk to him one-on-one. I’ll loiter around pretending to buy veggies and groceries… keep an eye on you the whole time. Safety first, baby. At least we know I’m right there if anything feels off.”

Monica tilted her head, a slow, sassy smile spreading across her lips. She crossed her legs, the slip riding higher on her smooth toned thighs. “Hmm… I like it. My protective husband playing bodyguard while I handle the dirty work”

She took a sip of coffee, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But Rak… what exactly do I even ask him? ‘Hi, I’m the memsaab who needs high quality gaanja for my NRI friends’? Sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.”

Rakesh chuckled,

“Be straightforward, Mon. It’s just gaanja — super common here. No need to overthink or act shady. Tell him the truth: we’re going to Manali with college friends from the US, we want really good quality stuff for the trip, and we heard he’s the guy who can supply it fresh. Keep it casual, confident… like you. You’re good at that.”

Monica raised an eyebrow, playful but a little uncertain. “Alright… but I’m wearing something decent today. No cleavage parade for the entire bazaar to enjoy. I don’t need random uncles and shopkeepers getting a free show while I negotiate with him” She stood up, stretching languidly, the satin slipping off one shoulder. “Give me twenty minutes to get ready.”

By late morning they were at the western end of the local market, under the sprawling banyan tree whose thick roots made natural benches. The place was busy but not crowded — weekend shoppers, vegetable vendors calling out prices, the faint smell of fresh coriander and onions in the air. Rakesh had parked their car a little away and was now casually browsing a vegetable cart twenty metres from the tree, eyes never leaving Monica.

She stood under the tree looking effortlessly elegant in a fitted green turtleneck sweater that hugged her full breasts and narrow waist, paired with snug white trousers that accentuated the curve of her taut, round ass. Her long hair was tied in a loose ponytail, kajal-lined eyes calm and confident. She looked like any well-off wife waiting for her husband..
Rakesh’s phone buzzed with a text from her: He’s here. Stay chill, baby ?

Sadlur arrived exactly on time, riding a well-maintained Royal Enfield. He was exactly as Bagha had described — rough, ugly in a brute sort of way, heavily muscular with thick arms and a broad chest that strained against his faded grey shirt. Short-cropped hair, a jagged scar above one eyebrow, and a thick moustache. But his demeanour was surprisingly professional — calm, no-nonsense, the kind of man who didn’t waste words.

Monica stepped forward with a friendly smile as he killed the engine and swung off the bike. “Hi… Sadlur ji? Bagha saab spoke about you. I’m Monica.”

Sadlur gave a small nod, eyes flicking over her once — slow, appreciative, but not crude. “Haan memsaab. Bagha ne bataya tha. Boliye… kya chahiye?”

Rakesh pretended to inspect tomatoes but his gaze was locked on them. He watched Monica laugh lightly at something Sadlur said, then lean in a little as she explained — the Manali trip, old college friends flying in from Los Angeles, the need for “really good quality” stuff so the whole gang could relax properly in the mountains. Her voice carried just enough for Rakesh to catch fragments: “...not the weak stuff, Sadlur ji… something fresh, strong… we’re going to be there for 2-3 days ”

Sadlur listened, nodding professionally, but his eyes kept drifting — tracing the way her turtleneck stretched across her chest when she gestured, lingering on the swell of her ass when she shifted her weight. Monica handled it with perfect sassy confidence — smiling, meeting his gaze straight on, even teasing lightly when he asked about quantity.

Rakesh felt a strange twist in his stomach: pride mixed with a sharp, uncomfortable heat. His wife was standing there, bold and beautiful, chatting up a dangerous-looking dealer like it was the most normal Sunday errand.

Then suddenly, Sadlur said something low, gesturing towards his bike. Monica’s eyes widened for a split second, then she thought for a while and nodded. Before Rakesh could process it, she swung one long leg over the pillion seat, holding Sadlur’s broad shoulder for balance. Her fat, round ass prominent due to the fabric of her plazo pants squeezed tightly into the narrow seat behind him..She settled in close — very close — her chest almost brushing his back as she adjusted her grip.
Rakesh’s heart slammed against his ribs. He pulled out his phone instantly and typed on WhatsApp : What’s happening? Where are you going?

Her reply came as the bike started : Everything okay, baby. He’s a good guy. Says he’s not here from tomorrow — has to go out of town. His godown is just on the other side of the highway. He’ll supply it right away. I said yes. Chill.
Rakesh watched the bike roar to life. Monica’s arms went around Sadlur’s waist as they whizzed past him. Her ass looked even more prominent pressed against the seat, thighs snug against the man’s hips. The bike disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.
He stood frozen for a second, vegetables forgotten. Another text from her a minute later: Listen ! You go home and relax… I’ll be right back after this.

Rakesh walked back to the car slowly, pulse still racing. On the way into the building he crossed Bagha at the gate. The watchman gave him a quick, knowing glance — nothing said, just a slight nod. Rakesh wondered if Bagha had any idea where his wife had just gone on the back of Sadlur’s bike. He went upstairs absent mindedly.

Almost an hour and twenty minutes later the doorbell rang.
Monica stepped in looking fresh, cheeks slightly pink from the cold ride, ponytail a little messy. She was carrying a small, nondescript black polythene bag. She kicked off her shoes and grinned at Rakesh, who was standing in the living room

“Mission accomplished, baby,” she said sassily, holding up the bag. “Four top-quality packets — fresh, sticky, smells amazing. Sadlur was actually a fun guy, nothing alarming honestly"
Rakesh looked at the packet as Monica continued " I waited outside the godown — it’s just an old paints warehouse on the highway side. He went in, came out with this, i paid him .. and then.... then he offered me chai. I thought it would be rude to say no… so we had chai inside. Nothing weird. Then he dropped me right back near the market.”

She walked over, ass swaying, and pressed the bag into Rakesh’s hands. “See? Good stuff, right?”
Rakesh examined the packets, relief and that same twisted heat mixing in his chest. “Looks decent… Vishal and Deepak are going to lose their minds.”

Monica laughed, that bold, sassy laugh he loved. “Even me and Saloni plan to get properly sloshed in Manali, not just the boys. Fair’s fair.”
He set the bag down and pulled her close, searching her face. “The guy was safe, right? No red flags?”
Monica smiled, tilting her head with pure mischief. “ Yea...Well-mannered, professional, even cracked a couple of jokes. Just looks scary with that big, muscular body of his.” She paused, eyes sparkling. “Why? Were you worried for me, Rak?”

“A little,” he admitted, voice low.

Monica bit her lower lip, stepping even closer so her breasts brushed his chest. “You should have seen me getting on his bike… I had to hold his shoulder and literally squeeze my ass into that tiny seat behind him. The bastard had taken up the entire space — I had to sit all close and cozy, thighs pressed against him the whole way.” Her voice dropped into that teasing, erotic lilt. “And on both trips — to the godown and back — the ride was so bumpy… my nipples got so hard from the vibration and the cold wind. I could feel them poking against my bra, all sensitive. Then the lucky bastard started closing in deliberately, leaning back a little more on every turn so his broad back pressed fully against my tits. It was like he was making sure he felt every single brush… that slow, constant boob massage the entire ride. I was so conscious, Rak… but what could I have done ? "

Rakesh’s grip on her waist tightened, a low groan escaping him. The image of his wife pressed tight against that rough, muscular dealer flooded his mind. “Fuck, Mon… so the dealer literally had the most sexy customer of his life today. Imagine him riding with your soft, full tits rubbing all over his back — that constant massage must have driven the bastard mad. Bet he’s still hard thinking about it.”
Monica giggled, playful , leaning into the joke. “Oh totally. Poor guy probably had the best ride . Every bump and I was practically giving him a free tit-job from behind. He even slowed down once or twice on purpose, I swear — like he wanted to enjoy it longer.”

Rakesh grinned, voice dropping dirtier. “Lucky slum bastard. Most men in that basti only get to jerk off thinking about you… and he got the real thing — your hard nipples dragging across his back for an hour. Bet he’ll be replaying it tonight while he strokes himself.”
Monica laughed again, but when the jokes turned even filthier - she placed a finger on his lips, still smiling but firm.
“Alright, alright… let’s not build too many fantasies now,” she said jokingly, eyes twinkling. “We got the stuff, mission accomplished, and I’m home safe. No need to turn one bike ride into a full porno in our heads, baby.”

Rakesh smiled,
Monica rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Now , we should call Vishal and Deepak…and confirm if all the bookings are done. We leave Friday morning right ? ”
Rakesh nodded, already dialling, but his mind still radiating heat !


Pics ::


Monica with Sadlur on the Royal Enfield

[SilverArrow]

The Friday morning air was thick with December fog, turning Noida into a sleepy, ghostly version of itself — deserted roads, streetlights still glowing faintly, the kind of quiet you usually only find in hill stations at dawn. It was barely 6 AM when Monica and Rakesh stepped out of their building,  the car’s headlights cut through the mist as Rakesh started the engine, the heater humming softly.

Monica settled into the passenger seat next to Rakesh, looking effortlessly hot in a fitted cream colored turtleneck that hugged her full, heavy breasts and a pair of snug denim jeans that clung to the generous curve of her taut, round ass. Her long hair was tied in a messy ponytail, kajal-lined eyes still sleepy but sparkling with excitement. She stretched her legs, the fabric stretching tight over her thighs.

As they merged onto the empty Delhi-Shimla highway, the world outside still wrapped in milky white fog, Monica turned to Rakesh with a playful little smirk.

“Baby… did you send Bagha up to our apartment this morning for something?”

Rakesh glanced at her, startled, one hand on the wheel. “No… why? I didn’t send him anywhere.”

Monica raised an eyebrow, that sassy glint already in her eyes. “Because when I was getting dressed, he suddenly walked into our apartment like he owned the place.”

Rakesh’s eyes widened. “What? Wait… he told me while I was loading the luggage that he wanted to check the electric fuse on our floor. The main door was open, Mon… I thought you’d locked it behind me.”

“Well, it wasn’t locked. I was standing in the bedroom in just my bra, hunting for this cream sweater I wanted to put on... The bedroom door was ajar… and suddenly there he was, Bagha Saab, standing right there in the living room, staring straight at me.”

Rakesh’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, a rush of shock and dirty excitement flashing across his face. “Holy fuck… he saw you like that? Just in your bra?”

Monica nodded, biting her lower lip, her voice dropping into that bold, teasing lilt she knew drove him crazy. “Yep. Full view from the back.. ..  I was turned slightly sideways, searching the cupboard, so he got a nice long look at the side swell and the way my nipples were poking against the lace from the cold morning air. I somehow yelled, ‘Bagha Saab! What are you doing here?’ and slammed the bedroom door shut so fast I almost knocked the mirror off the wall.”





Rakesh let out a low groan, eyes flicking between the foggy road and his wife. “And what did he say?”

“He got all apologetic instantly,” Monica continued, her tone turning playful . “Kept saying, ‘Sorry madam ji, main toh sirf fuse check karne aaya tha… blah blah.’ I told him he should have at least knocked once before walking in like that. He kept apologising, looking all guilty… but I could see that hungry little flash in his eyes before he turned away. Since we were already running late, I just let it go. Told him it was fine and to lock the door properly on his way out.”

Rakesh shook his head, half shocked, half turned on. “Fuck, Mon….. I should have bolted the damn door from outside.”

Monica reached over and squeezed his thigh, her touch lingering. “You should have, Rak. But it’s okay… it was my mistake also ..i should have checked as well... But just imagine the audacity of the Bihari watchman, just strolling inside seeing the open door...Pretty weird shit honestly ” She laughed, the sound low and sassy.  The car stopped at the tool naka.


“These Bihari watchmen, I swear… they all have that same shameless stare. Probably goes and jerks off in his cabin thinking about my tits bouncing while I slammed the door.” Monica said as she paid the toll tax.

Rakesh chuckled, the tension easing into their favourite kind of dirty playfulness. “Thank God ..we are away for a week..  will be less awkward for you baby"

Monica grinned, leaning closer, her full breasts pressing against the seatbelt. “Oh totally. .I dont know how will I face that bastard again ....and the evil networks he has in the slum ..fuck!!!! "
" He is bloody connected ..Monica ... may be i should just pay him 500 rupees as bakshish next time i meet him " Rakesh said while trying to overtake a slow moving truck.

Monica smiled ....

"He is an ass Rak ...Imagine him telling the other guys in the basti tonight — ‘Arre yaar, aaj subah Monica memsaab ko bra mein dekh liya… full side view, kya size hai yaar ...pure nipples bhi sab dikh gaya’” She mimicked Bagha’s voice in a husky whisper, making Rakesh laugh harder.

Rakesh glanced at her, eyes dark with lust and amusement. “Quite a start to the trip you had baby ...”

Monica winked, squeezing his thigh again. “That’s why you love me, baby. Keeps things spicy.” She leaned back, watching the fog slowly lift as the sun climbed higher, revealing stretches of empty highway ahead. “Now relax and drive properly. Vishal and Saloni are coming by flight… we just got a message that operations are delayed because of this damn fog. No point rushing like maniacs if they’re still stuck at the airport.”

Rakesh nodded, smiling as he eased his foot off the accelerator a little. The road opened up in front of them, the winter sun finally breaking through the mist, painting everything in soft golden light.

[SilverArrow]

The Friday morning sun had finally burned through the last traces of fog by the time they crossed the toll naka on the Delhi-Shimla highway. Haryana stretched out before them — endless stretches of flat fields, golden wheat stubble, and the occasional cluster of mud-brick houses under a clear, crisp blue sky. The air was pleasantly warm, the kind of winter sunshine that made everything feel alive and lazy at the same time. Traffic was almost non-existent; just the occasional truck rumbling past and the soft hum of their car engine.

Monica leaned back in the passenger seat, that naughty, sassy smile already playing on her lips. She pulled out the small packet Sadlur had given them, and started rolling a joint with practised ease — the same expert way she used to do it in college.

“God, this stuff smells so fucking fresh,” she murmured, licking the paper slowly. She rolled one perfectly for herself, then glanced at Rakesh with a teasing glint. “You sure you want one, baby? Weed this strong might make your driving  really difficult”

Rakesh grinned, eyes on the empty road. “Fuck it. Give me one. I will manage!”

She lit hers first, took a long, deep drag, and passed it to him. The smoke filled the car with that sweet, earthy scent. Monica exhaled slowly, her full breasts rising and falling under the fitted cream turtleneck as the first wave hit her. “Mmm… this is the real deal. Sadlur didn’t lie. I’m already feeling the kick”

They smoked in comfortable silence for a while, the highway unwinding ahead. After the second joint, even Rakesh — who had been driving straight — started feeling the buzz. His shoulders relaxed, a lazy smile spreading across his face. By the third slow, shared joint, both of them were properly high, the weed working its magic — euphoric, horny, and deliciously uninhibited.

Monica stretched like a cat, her turtleneck riding up to show a teasing strip of smooth midriff. “Baby… pull over somewhere. I need cigarettes. And you look like you’re floating already.”

Monica got down at a paan shop next to the highway to buy cigarettes as few men oogled shamelessly at that tight taut ass as if they wanted to spank her.

When Rakesh restarted the engine , he felt his hands shaking a little....Rakesh chuckled, voice a little thick. “Yeah… I’m feeling it too. Dizzy as fuck in the best way.”

Monica lit a cigarette and warned Rakesh " Rak you are high now and you have been driving non stop babe.. lets take a small break no ?"

Rakesh nodded absent mindedly.

He took a slight detour off the main highway onto a narrow village road. Tall grass swayed on both sides, the fields empty except for a few distant farmers. He found the perfect spot — behind an old, dilapidated brick wall half-covered in vines, next to a small sparkling stream. The car rolled to a stop, completely hidden from the highway. It was serene, photogenic, almost cinematic: golden sunlight, tall grass rustling in the gentle breeze, the soft gurgle of water nearby.

Monica stepped out first, phone in hand. “This place is straight out of a postcard. Wait, let me take some pics.” She posed against the wall, then in the grass, snapping selfies and a few videos, her snug denim jeans hugging every curve of her taut, round ass, the turtleneck stretched tight over her heavy breasts. She looked radiant, high, and irresistibly fuckable.

She came back to the car after a few minutes, cheeks flushed from the weed and the sun. Rakesh was already out, leaning against the hood, eyes dark with that unmistakable high-horniness. Without a word he pulled her close and kissed her — slow at first, then deep, hungry, tongues sliding together. The weed made everything feel electric.

“Fuck, Mon… you look so hot right now,” he growled against her mouth, hands sliding down to squeeze her plump ass.

Monica moaned softly into the kiss, grinding against him. “Mmm… I can feel how hard you are already, baby.”

In a sudden burst of kink, Rakesh grabbed the hem of her turtleneck and yanked it up and off in one swift motion. Monica gasped, now standing there in just her skimpy white lace bra ! Her full, heavy D-cup breasts looked absolutely obscene in the bright sunlight: the underwire pushed them up high and together, creating a deep, soft valley of cleavage, while the sheer lace cups barely covered the lower half, leaving the upper swells spilling out heavily. Her dark, hardened nipples poked prominently against the thin fabric, clearly visible and begging for attention. The bra made her tits look even bigger, rounder, and raunchier than usual — the kind of view that would make any man lose control.

“Rak! What the hell… we’re in the middle of nowhere!” she hissed, half-shocked arms instinctively crossing over her chest for a second.

Rakesh’s eyes were glazed with lust and weed. “It’s completely safe, baby. Look around — no one for miles. That wall blocks everything. No cars, no people. Just us.”










Monica still hesitating at this sudden public exposure, her Bra straining hard against her huge tits..

.He pulled her closer, kissing her neck. “Come on… I want to see you like this in the open sun.”

Monica hesitated again , the public thrill mixing with the high. Then she grinned, bold and sassy as ever. “You’re such a dirty pervert when you’re high… but fuck it. I’m too buzzed to say no.”

She let her arms drop, standing there topless in just the bra, the sunlight making her smooth, fair skin glow. They kissed again, deeper, more urgent, then tumbled onto the soft grass behind the wall, laughing and rolling together like horny teenagers.

After a few minutes of lazy making out and dirty whispers, Monica pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, her heavy breasts swaying heavily in the bra, nipples scbanging against the lace with every movement.




She looked down at him with that wicked, open-minded sparkle. “So… you want me to blow you quickly, baby? Right here? "

Rakesh groaned, nodding eagerly. “Fuck yes. Nothing hotter than a public blowjob Monica..thats like ultimate”

Monica smiled and teased" Are you sure you ready for it ? We are open in public mister!'

Rakesh " Mon, cut the tease and start it quickly!"

Monica tied her long hair into a messy bun with the hair tie from her wrist, giving him a slow, teasing smile. “Then watch me, Rak. I’m going to make this the sloppiest, dirtiest blowjob you’ve ever had. Your cock is going to be dripping with my spit by the time I’m done.”

She smiled like on a mission and slid down his body, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang out, already rock-hard and throbbing from the weed, the head glistening.

She wrapped her soft hand around the thick base, stroking slowly as she looked up at him, her heavy tits jiggling in the bra with every movement. “Mmm… look at this big, thick cock. All mine and so fucking hard already. You’ve been leaking since I told you about Bagha seeing my tits this morning, haven’t you?

Rakesh groaned loudly, hips bucking. “Fuck, Mon… you’re such a dirty girl. Suck it deeper… show me how much you love being my public whore. Those tits look so fucking obscene in that bra right now.”

Monica laughed softly around his cock, the vibration making him twitch. She took him in deeper, lips stretching wide, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed her head with expert rhythm — slow and teasing at first, swirling her tongue around the swollen cock head, licking every vein, then taking him all the way to the back of her throat with wet, gagging sounds.

"Slpppp..Slpppppl ..Slppppppppp" the sound echoed around the wall as Monica sucked her husband cock right there in open wearing just a lacy Bra. She looked like an expert totally in control and was now having the entire length of her husband cock totally inside her mouth. She let out a faint groaning sound appropriate to the kind of expertise she had in sucking , slow , rhythmic and intense having the entire manhood of her hubby well inside her pretty mouth. She slowed down purposefully to ascertain if Rakesh could withstand the pleasure only to start more vigorously with lot of unmatched venom!
Spit dripped messily down her chin and onto her sprawling cleavage, making the lace bra glisten and turning the valley between her heavy breasts shiny and slick. She used one hand to stroke the base firmly while the other cupped and gently massaged his balls, rolling them in her palm. Every few strokes she pulled off with a loud, obscene pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock, stroking him fast and talking filthy between breaths.

“Look the poor you Rak , look like you wont survive another minute " Monica joked as she dove back down, sucking harder, tongue flicking the underside relentlessly, making loud slurping noises that echoed softly in the quiet field. She even pushed her heavy breasts together with her arms, letting the head of his cock slap wetly against the soft, spit-slick flesh of her cleavage between strokes. “Mmm… you want to cum on these tits too, baby? Or should I swallow every drop like the greedy little wife I am?”

Rakesh was groaning like a pig now — deep, guttural, animalistic sounds — his hands tangled in her hair as he fucked her mouth harder. “Shit… Mon… you’re too fucking good at this… I... i will ..… gonna cum… fuck… swallow it all, baby…”

Monica moaned encouragingly around him, speeding up, eyes watering but never breaking eye contact. She wanted it messy, wanted every drop. She took him as deep as she could, throat relaxing, milking him with her tongue and lips until Rakesh’s balls tightened and he started cumming hard — thick, heavy ropes shooting straight down her throat. Monica swallowed greedily, gulping down load after load, but there was so much that some escaped the corners of her mouth, dripping messily down her chin and landing right onto her sprawling, heaving cleavage. The warm cum trickled slowly between her pushed-up breasts, making the white lace glisten obscenely in the sunlight.

Just as Rakesh’s orgasm peaked and he was still twitching, pumping the last spurts into her mouth, the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet. It was getting closer.

Monica’s eyes widened in panic even as she swallowed the last of him, pulling off with a wet gasp. A thick string of cum and spit still connected her lips to his cock for a second before breaking.

Rakesh was still panting, cum leaking from the corner of her mouth and smeared across her cleavage. The bike was approaching fast along the dirt path near the wall — two rough-looking  men on it, clearly curious why a  car was parked behind the old wall in the middle of nowhere.

“Shit… Rak… someone’s coming!” she hissed, quickly grabbing the thin shawl from the car bonnet and wrapping it around her shoulders over the bra. It barely covered anything — her heavy, cum-streaked breasts still strained against the lace, nipples clearly visible, the shawl doing little to hide how topless and messy she was.

Rakesh fumbled to zip his pants, still dazed and panting from the orgasm. The bike slowed down near their car, the riders peering curiously.

Monica stayed crouched behind the wall, heart hammering, the thrill of almost getting caught mixing with the lingering high and the taste of him still on her tongue. “Rak… go see what they want. Take them away from the car… distract them. I can’t walk to the car like this — I’m  topless in this fucking bra with your cum all over my tits. My sweater’s still inside. Just get them away for a minute so I can run and change.”

Rakesh nodded nervously, face flushed, trying to look normal as he stood up on shaky legs. “Yeah… yeah, I got it. Dont make sound Honey.”

He walked towards the bike, forcing a casual smile, while Monica peeked from behind the wall, pulse racing, the shawl clutched tight over her cum-glistening cleavage.

It was already turning into the filthiest adventure of their lives.

[SilverArrow]

---

Rakesh reached the rear of the car, pulse racing. Two tall, thickly built men sat on heavy Royal Enfields, engines idling. Both were dark, sun-burnt, with thick bushy moustaches and the kind of powerful frames that screamed years of tough service. The older one — around 39 or 40 — had sharp, predatory eyes that scanned everything at once. He would be around 6 feet tall with biceps big enough to lift his heavy bike. He looked even more ominous when he got out after turning down the engine of his bike. His Shirt stretched tight across a broad hairy chest with thick black hair peeping out of the open top shirt button. The younger one, four or five years junior, looked less intimidating— though he also had a physique which spoke of either cop or military.

Rakesh got his heart pulsating, are they really cops , he tried to push a brave face...
"Ji Bhaisaab"

The taller thicker man raised a hand politely and spoke with eased authority “Sorry to bother you Bhaisaab ,  We had a puncture. Do you have a tyre puncture kit? " The man walked ahead in confident strides,, the second man added  "Mister ... It’s hard to find a workshop on this stretch of the highway… ”

Rakesh felt a rush of relief. They are neither cops nor most probably knew what they were doing ! “Yes, I have one. Let me get it.” Rakesh still stammered ...

He turned towards the boot, buying time. Monica, hearing everything, tiptoed quickly to the passenger side, reached through the open window, grabbed her cream turtleneck, and pulled it over her head in one frantic motion. The fabric stuck slightly to the drying cum on her cleavage, but she was atleast covered. She let out a shaky breath.

The taller man watched Rakesh with calm eyes. Rakesh smiled " Ji , its on the other side of the hood , wait I will get it "

“Thank you Bhaisaab "

Monica stepped out from behind the wall, fully dressed now, cheeks still flushed. She recognised them instantly — the same two men from the dhaba paan shop earlier. They had actually helped her give change when she stepped down to buy cigarettes!

Tezpal’s eyes flicked to her, lingering a second too long on her chest, as if he could sense something was off beneath the sweater.

Rakesh pulled out the puncture kit from behind the hood and gave to the taller heavier man .

The man took it " Thanks Bhaisaab , Bahut shukriya Ji , by the way I’m Tezpal. This is my colleague Jung Bahadur.
We are both from the para military ... Are you guys in  for a holiday ?"  
Tezpal spoke slowly while adjusting the rear wheel over the spanner - his  biceps thickening as he pushed the spanner hard ...
Rakesh nodded " Ha bhaisaab , travelling to Manali ..you guys ?"

Monica was searching for a bottle of mineral water , her mouth still filled with Rakesh's cum which she could not swallow whole..

The man named Tezpal greeted Monica by waving his hand " Hello Memsaab"

Monica rinsed her mouth and smiled " Namaste Bhaisaab, thanks for the change , us time jaldi pe thi so I couldn't ask you guys your names "
The other shorter guy spoke for the first time in a weird Hindi " Memsaab I am Jung Bahadur and he is Tezpal!! "

They chatted for a while and as things turned out they were both heading to Manali
" This is our old ritual.. every new year we take leave and explore the mountains .. You guys are coming from Delhi ?"
Tezpal asked trying to replace with the spare wheel.
" No Noida Tezpal ji " replied Rakesh as both he and Jung bahadur helped him to push the replaced the wheel.

Rakesh pushed the spare wheel over the arc , forcing a smile. “Noida? Small world… we’re from there too.”
" Woow which sector ?" Monica asked
" 65 " Jang Bahadur started the bike as a dust bowl erupted behind the wheel
" Thats close , we just shifted to sector 62 , by the way I am Monica and my hubby Rakesh "


“Let me guess you guys are Sharma ? ” Tezpal said, voice smooth and warm,
“ No .. we are Patel , but yea Monica's maiden name is Sharma" Rakesh grinned

Tezpal chuckled, “Thanks Rakesh bhai , we are done boss! Bahut shukriya again ”

The conversation flowed a more as Tezpal and Jung Bahadur sat on the grass to wash hands "
Monica asked politely " Bhaisaab you need water to wash ?"

Tezpal: “No Memsaab , we are soldiers , used to dirt and mud by the way where you guys work? ”

Rakesh : “Yes, I work for Delhi metro and my wife in a manager in a Life Insurance company ! You both look like proper soldiers though. Border duty must have been tough.”

Tezpal: “It was tough, but we enjoyed it. Now in Delhi cantonment , it’s a bit more peaceful.”

Jung Bahadur: “How long are you staying in Manali?”

Monica: “About 3-4 days. College gang reunion. Old friends from the US are coming.”

Tezpal: “Sounds like a lot of fun. If we bump into each other there, we must have a drink. After all we are Noida neighbours ”

Rakesh grinned and waved at them.

They whizzed past in their noisy bullet when Monica smiled " Fuck what was that Rak ? We were almost caught !" Monica exhaled as Rakesh followed the bikes.
" Yea good little adventure No ? " Rakesh giggled ...

Monica made a face " What would have happened if these two saw me topless? Have you looked at their sizes .. would have taken me surely behind the wall and made me suck their cocks as well !"
" Relax , baby .. they are patrol officers " Rakesh said while over taking a slow moving car

Monica giggled " by the way you fucking came like a buffalo .. must have poured gallons on me "
" Shona , if you get naked in full open and lick my balls the way you did .. you expect anything else "
" Ok hero , dont make me horny again , concentrate on the road , mountains are starting "
As they reached the Himachal Pradesh checkpoint, they again met Tezpal and Jung bahadur.

The official looked at Rakesh and said " Sir , dont drive alone on the mountains with madam !" Then looking at Tezpal said " Bhaisaab you guys travel together, safe for all of you!"
Monica asked little worried " why but ?"
" Dacoits madam , Chalie drive safely .. good night "

Jung Bahadur assured Rakesh firmly " Dont worry lets go together, you follow our bikes "

They reached Manali by night. The hotel was beautiful, wooden balconies overlooking snow-dusted peaks. But the road was torture , dimly lit , deserted and highly unsafe.
The roads were dug up in between with shady men oogling at them at the dead of the night.
When Rakesh switched off the ignition of his car , he knew how helpful Tezpal and Jung have been , it would be really risky without them ,
Monica told Rakesh " Man , how sweet and responsible both are , escorted us right at the gate of the hotel in this fucking freezing winter "
Rakesh nodded and got out of the car and shook Tezpal's iron fist in gratitude " you both were saviors Tejpal ji "
Tejpal smiled " koi nahi .. you guys take rest , we will get going !"
Rakesh interrupted " Hey Tejpal .. whats this ? You guys escorted us all the way and where will you both go in this freezing night ?"
Jung laughed " dont worry hero , we are used to it "

Monica protested " No tezpal ji , not fair , its snowing around and you guys dont have bookings .. do one thing stay with us here no?  !"

Tezpal shook his head " Aree memsaab No No , this is your private booked property , we have a nice hotel in the mall dont worry " He started the ignition of the bike ..

Thats when the hotel receptionist came forward
" Saab the road to city is closed due to snowfall , we have a very nice spare room , please stay here , we will give you good discount, please Sir business is really bad , so we give you discount, dont go anywhere "
Jung Bahadur looked at Tezpal and laughed " This guy is pleading Boss , what say ?"

Tezpal put his hands on the receptionist and told " Thik hai , tension mat le , saab log ke samaan andar le ke ja "

Rakesh chuckled " Thats more like it guys , I m sure you will like the property "

Tezpal nodded " Yea"

Monica teased Tezpal " Dude , when I requested .. look how you guys were giving all excuses and when this receptionist spoke , you were all bought , huh how do you know their business is bad huh ?"

Rakesh and Jung laughed as Tezpal said " Because we did not want to be trespassers Monica, Simple!"

" Come on Tezpal , you can do better!" Monica playfully smiled..
They all chatted over coffee at the reception as they gathered around a fireplace

" Are you still scared of the dacoits Memsaab ?" Now it was turn of Jung Bahadur to tease Monica
" When exactly did I tell I was scared mister ? " Monica snapped back playfully...

Rakesh smiled  " Come on Mon , dont be so ungrateful, atleast accept  you were trembling in the car !"

Monica protested laughing " Rakesh you are supposed to be on my side " all of them laughed heartily

Soon , Jung Bahadur brought out a large bottle of Single malt whiskey and said to the waiter to arrange for ice and coke.

Monica said " guys, I am really tired , you guys bond over whiskey, I will call it a night tonight please dont mind !"

Tezpal protested" Rakesh tell your biwi man , she has the best collection of jokes , she cant go away like this!" Jung nodded and said " No No you stay " and  neatly served whiskey on all four glasses ..
Rakesh sipping the whiskey winked" Mon one glass please !"

" Guys! I am just so damn sleepy trust me, i would just doze off here , better i will listen all the fun stories tomorrow morning huh !"

Tezpal got up and told Rakesh " Okay ..Rakesh ji you guys take up the bigger couple room , we will manage in the smaller room with separate beds What say Jung ? "

He nodded and drank the whole glass.

Monica looked at her husband and said " There is only one key ...I will not bolt the door  you get in just by pushing "

" Ok honey good night "

" Good night Rak, Dont drink too much you are already tired"

" No , i wont baby , you go and sleep!"
As Monica walked slowly away , both Tezpal and Jung did not miss the sexy jiggle of her ass under the tight skinny jeans , the kind of ass both soldiers dreamt of spanking and fucking during the harsh winters of North India. They would sit in their freezing bunkers and yank off under the blanket till their thick cocks ached and turn blood red ! Jung bahadur thought there is no way he can sleep today without shagging thinking about Monica's ass. Just that he was so horny he wanted a room all for himself where he could have shagged in peace.

The moment she closed the door of her room, Monica yanked off her turtleneck and then the cum-stained white lace bra in one quick motion. The dried streaks were still visible on her skin. She tossed the bra onto the bed . She wanted to sleep naked , but the men were drinking right outside the room. So she wore a tiny flimsy slip which unfortunately covered nothing and crashed on the sack !


The next morning in Manali was crisp and bright, the kind of winter sunshine that made the snow-dusted peaks sparkle like diamonds. Monica woke up first, almost naked in the flimsy slip , her body pleasantly sore and sticky in all the right places. Rakesh was snoring softly beside her. She slipped out of bed, the dried streaks of yesterday’s cum still faintly visible on her heavy breasts, and padded to the bathroom. A quick hot shower washed away the evidence, but the memory of that public blowjob — and the two men who had almost caught her with Rakesh’s load dripping down her cleavage — kept her pussy tingling.

By the time Rakesh stirred, Monica was already dressed in a soft white sweater that hugged her full tits and a pair of tight black leggings that made her round ass look obscene. She kissed him awake with a filthy little smile.

“Morning, baby. Ready for the gang to arrive? Or should I suck you off again before they get here?”

Rakesh groaned, pulling her down for a deep kiss. “hhhhh Mon. That blowjob yesterday… fuck, I still can’t believe you swallowed me like that in full open.”

Monica laughed, grinding against his morning hardness. “And I still have the taste of your cock inside me , But save it for later. Today is our reunion day.”

By late afternoon, the dream get-together finally began. Vishal and Saloni arrived first, looking exhausted from the delayed flight but beaming the moment they saw Monica and Rakesh in the hotel lobby. Deepak rolled in an hour later from Chandigarh, and the five of them exploded into hugs, laughter, and longing love,their eyes glistening with pure tears!!

“Finally! Two whole years, you bastards!” Vishal boomed, pulling Rakesh into a bear hug. Saloni squealed and tackled Monica, kissing her cheek.

“Monica, you look even hotter than before, you bitch! Marriage suits you.”

Deepak grinned, slinging an arm around both women. “College gang is back, baby! ”

They spent the whole evening and late into the night in the cozy lounge by the fireplace — five old friends who were more family than friends. Tezpal and Jung Bahadur joined them after dinner, invited by Rakesh. The two men sat a little apart at first, but the whiskey flowed and the conversation turned loud and easy.

Vishal raised his glass. “To old friends and new adventures”

Saloni clinked glasses with Monica. “And to finally getting sloshed together again. I missed this so much.”

The talk flowed naturally, jumping from topic to topic as old friends do.

Rakesh: “Pollution in Delhi is killing us, yaar. Noida is no better now.”

Vishal: “Tell me about it.. You guys still breathing that poison every day?”

Monica laughed. “We moved to a quieter satellite town. Less pollution, more peace… much cleaner air”

Tezpal, sipping his whiskey slowly, smiled at her across the table. “Come on I smoke 10 cigarettes a day , Delhi air cant be worse ”

Monica met his eyes with a calm, sassy smile. “Exactly Tezpal ji , its not that bad media makes it to be , I agree”

Jung Bahadur chuckled. “Arre madam, these bastard media houses are all competing to destroy India ”

Monica shrugged playfully. “ Chill maro Jung bhai , no one can till we have soldiers like you ”

Saloni pulled Monica " babe you have cigarette ?  , come no .. you guys continue..we will join in sometime!"

Saloni went out with Monica ,   while the men talked politics inside

Saloni (softly, giggling): “Fuck, Mon… Tezpal hasn’t taken his eyes off your tits the whole night. That man is eye-fucking you so hard I can feel it from here. Look at those arms… I bet he could pin you down, rip your leggings off and fuck you senseless without even breaking a sweat.”

Monica whispered back, biting her lip, voice low and filthy. “Saloni please he .. he is a soldier .. have some respect!!”

Saloni’s eyes widened, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “God, I’d let him ruin me in a heartbeat. Bet his cock is thick and veiny, the kind that stretches you so wide you can’t walk straight the next day”

Monica stifled a soft laughter,  “Stop… you’re making it worse. Dont give the horny bastard easy chances!! ”

Saloni giggled quietly. “We’re both such whores. Tomorrow we’ll compare notes if that dangerous bastard tries anything.”

Monica winked.

The group conversation continued, loud and lively.

Deepak: “Trump is back in the news again. Geo-politics is going crazy.”

Vishal: “Man, the world is on fire. Parents keep asking when we’re having kids. Saloni and I are like — give us a break, we’re still young!”

Saloni: “Exactly! we’re too busy living first.”

Monica: “Same here. Rakesh’s parents keep dropping hints”

Saloni looked at Tezpal " hey Tezpal , what about you , you are married ?"

“Yaa , madam . Though Jung Bahadur is still searching for a girl.” he smirked

Jung Bahadur smiled dry and raised his glass. “To new friends and old memories!”

The night stretched on — politics, parents, pollution, Trump, border stories from Tezpal and Jung, college nostalgia from the five friends. Whiskey flowed freely. Laughter echoed in the wooden lounge.

Later, when the group finally broke up for the night, Saloni pulled Monica aside for one last private whisper near the staircase before retiring for the night

[SilverArrow]

Update posted

[SilverArrow]

The next two days blurred into a whirlwind of pure, unfiltered joy. The gang hit Rohtang Pass at dawn, screaming like teenagers as they dove into fresh powder snow, built lopsided snowmen, and pelted each other with icy missiles until their cheeks burned red.

Evenings were pure magic—Deepak’s guitar strings weeping soulful old friendship anthems while Monica’s voice rose like a nightingale, pure and heartbreaking. They passed joints around the fireplace, Tezpal and Jung Bahadur adding their own potent stash, the smoke thick and sweet. By the third night—New Year’s Eve, the 31st—they were all gloriously wrecked.

By 9 p.m. on the New Year's eve , room in Tezpal’s cottage , where they had all assembled for the joint and drinks looked like a battlefield.

Rakesh, Deepak (who’d been running a low fever since afternoon), Jung Bahadur, Saloni, and Vishal were out cold. Jung and Rakesh had crashed on the two beds in Tezpal’s room; Deepak had staggered back to his own earlier. Vishal and Saloni had been half-carried to theirs by Monica and Tezpal. Rakesh, though, refused to budge from Tezpal’s bed no matter how hard they shook him—he was snoring like a freight train, dead to the world.

Only Monica and Tezpal remained awake, sober despite the whiskey and weed.

Monica looked lethal in her white off shoulder party dress which exposed a lot of cleavage and barely extended five centimetres over than her toned thighs, the hem riding dangerously high with every step.Tezpal had been rock-hard in his jeans since evening just watching her move.

At the stroke of midnight they stepped outside together. It was cold outside, but not too cold due to the whiskey and weed they had consumed in plenty. Fat, lazy snowflakes drifted down against a glowing full moon, turning the lawn and distant peaks into silver velvet. They walked slowly across the grass toward the mountain edge, sharing a cigarette and a fresh joint.

Tezpal’s eyes traced the bare stretch of Monica's thighs. “How the hell are you managing the cold in that tiny thing?” he asked, voice rough.  
Monica took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl between them. “It’s my favourite dress mister. And I am used to the cold, Noida is no way better ”  

" It's gonna be really cold on the road, you sure you wanna go to the other side? " Tezpal rubbed his hands

“Yea, we have ran out of cigarettes and I am bit hungry as well, so we have to go ”  

They found a shop nearby, the shopkeeper and his friends were drinking , they stared so shamelessly at Monica's tits that Monica almost had to hide her cleavage with her palm and ask Tezpal to buy the stuff while she stood few metres away!

“Snow’s getting heavier. We should head back before I really can’t feel my legs.”  Monica said once they bought cigarettes and few packets of chips and snacks.

They trudged back to the cottage, with the cold now definitely increasing.

Rakesh hadn’t moved an inch—still snoring face-down on Tezpal’s bed. Monica bent over to shake him again. Her tiny dress rode straight up her back, the skimpy white lacy thong she wore inside clearly outlined against her perfect ass. Monica did not realize Tezpal was getting an uninterrupted view of her ass in those suggestive thongs. Tezpal’s cock throbbed painfully in his jeans.

“Useless man,” she muttered, straightening, frustrated at how Rakesh was still snoring like a dead monkey!

“Tezpal ji, I am sorry, Rakesh is just not budging . I know you must be tired as hell! ”

"Hey, poor man, he is really drowned with all the whiskey and weed you guys gave him, I dont blame him, let him sleep! " Tezpal smiled

" He should have slept in our cottage Tezpal ji, not on your bed!! "

" It's okay, may be he will be awake in a couple of hours "

" Not sure how we will wait that long, Tezpal ji, I am really feeling cold, your cottage do not have a fire place also, atleast my room has one, may be you can come and lit the fire place and we wait there! " Monica said, little shivering as the cold northern winds hit her.

Monica and Tezpal stepped into her cottage, the door shutting with a solid click against the night.Rakesh’s half of the bed was still made up, untouched. His snoring drifted faintly from Tezpal’s cottage across the frozen lawn.

Tezpal kneeling down, arranged the last of the dry logs , struck a match, and watched the flames catch and settle into a steady crackle. The room lit up with warm orange light!

Monica poured two small measures of whiskey while he joined her on the bed. They sat with their backs against the headboard, legs stretched out, sharing the fresh joint in comfortable silence for a moment.
“Cheers,” she said simply, touching her glass to his. “To a New Year that doesn’t start with everyone passed out.”


https://ibb.co/9mV7LgHB

https://ibb.co/9mV7LgHB







Tezpal gave a short laugh "All your friends and your husband betrayed you on the New Year's night.. With their pathetic ability to manage weed ”
They laughed

The conversation moved naturally, the way it does after a long day and a few drinks. They talked about the trip—how the snow at Rohtang had felt endless, how Saloni’s dramatic fall had everyone laughing for ten straight minutes, how Deepak’s guitar had turned the evening into something almost peaceful. Monica mentioned, quietly, that Rakesh had been like this more often lately—checking out early, leaving her to handle the night.

Tezpal nodded, admitting the mountains were the only break he’d had from the same routine back at work for  months.

The joint was nearly finished when Monica reached for the small metal ashtray on the side table. She was mid-sentence, laughing softly at something Tezpal had said about Jung Bahadur’s impossible stories, and her hand caught the edge wrong. The ashtray tipped straight into her lap.

 

“Damn it,” she muttered, half-annoyed at herself. Warm ash and a couple of butts spilled across her naked thighs, grey flecks dusting the skin just below the short hem of her dress and a few specks landing on the swell of her cleavage.

Tezpal set his glass down. “Hold still. You’ll only make it worse if you brush it around.”

He grabbed a few tissues from the table, leaned in, and started cleaning it up with practical, unhurried movements. His fingers worked over the smooth skin of her toned thighs—first the outer side, then sweeping inward to catch the finer ash that clung there. The touch was matter-of-fact, the way anyone would help after a spill, but her skin was warm under his palm and the short dress left a lot of it exposed. He wiped steadily upward, thumb brushing lightly along the inner thighs to get the last traces near the hem.

Monica stayed still, watching without comment, the faint tension in the air acknowledged but not named.
“There,” he said after a moment, tossing the tissues aside. “Most of it’s gone.”
“Thanks,” she replied, brushing the last bits from her cleavage herself. Her voice was even, but she shifted her leg once, settling the dress back down as best it would go. Her sexy toned thighs turned reddish after Tezpal had nicely groped most of it while cleaning the ash off! Monica again instinctively tried to pull down her dress as much as possible , slightly conscious how the thick hands of Tezpal literally played with her naked thighs, and he did grope her so expertly and silently without a dirty word being spoken!

They passed the last of the joint and kept talking, the fire burning lower now.

Minutes stretched into an hour. Every so often Monica checked her phone—no messages from the other cottage.

Rakesh was still out cold; they could hear the occasional distant snore if the wind died down.
They quickly went to the other cottage and gosh the power were gone!
Rakesh was now sleeping even more vigorously..

Monica closed the door of the other cottage, her thin white dress offering nothing against the dropping temperature. “Great. No more wood, no electricity, and Rakesh is still snoring like he’s never waking up.”
They walked back to Monica cottage


Monica exhaled slowly. “This is ridiculous. But I’m not sitting up all night turning into ice, and you can’t go back to your place with Rakesh sprawled across your bed like that.”
" Don't worry Memsaab, I will manage somehow, let me call the  reception.. They will manage something.."
Tezpal dialled, but the room telephone had no signal...
"These bastards are all drunk right now, bunch of chutiyas " Tezpal slammed down the receiver..

Monica glanced at him,  “I thought as much, okay this bed is large enough for two of us..We will share it. Nothing else makes sense right now.”

“Are you sure? This bed is not large enough and half of it is anyway smeared with cigarettes and ash ”
" Huh? What other options we have Tezpal ji, you can't wait outside, you will surely get pneumonia and you have to ride back all the way to Noida tomorrow,! "
Tezpal nonchalantly replied " No no, I will manage Memsaab, it won't be that difficult "
But by then, the snowfall had intensified so much, they both were literally shivering..
" Tezpal ji, you must be out of your mind or plain drunk to not realize the filthy snowfall outside... Trust me we will manage! " Monica said searching if there is another blanket somewhere in the cupboard

The room was already cold enough that neither of them argued further.

Tezpal glanced at the single blanket. The room had grown extremely cold despite the dying fire. Monica shivered visibly.

“Come on,” she said casually. “Get under the blanket. No point freezing separately.”


Tezpal nodded " I think we still have some whiskey and joint left, don't wanna waste it! "
Monica laughed " Dude I am literally freezing, okay I will have one final joint but under the blanket please "


 

Both Monica and Tezpal slid inside the large single blanket, the edges still not covering both of them and hence still the cold icy winds struck them from the sides. Tezpal's massive frame took up most of the space, but the heat radiating from him was instant bliss. Monica snuggled closer without thinking, chasing the warmth. They lay side by side, bodies almost touching, the snowfall outside now a full blizzard. Tezpal reached over and switched off the lamp. Pitch black. Then they lit one final joint for the night.

In the darkness their whispers turned softer as the snowfall raged on mercilessly.

" Shit, what's this snowfall Tezpal ji, I am shivering even under the blanket " Monica said voice a little incoherent from the joint and called..

" Hey I don't need so much of the blanket, you cover your sides " Tezpal instantly pushed the warm edges over Monica

" Hey no, you are practically outside the blanket dude, I just joked "

" You can't sleep if you are this cold Memsaab " Tezpal husky rough voice felt like a drug as the blanket now snugly covered Monica..

" Okay, I will try and sleep, happy new year once again Tezpal ji "

" Happy new year, good night " .. Monica felt heavy in her eyes and slowly drifted...

 

Thirty minutes later the room was silent except for the soft crackle of dying embers and the howl of wind outside. Monica was half-asleep, floating in that warm haze, she was still shivering a bit from the inhuman snowfall outside... The cold was so raging and merciless that it was impossible to feel warm and completely asleep...

And that's when she felt it — a faint, rhythmic rustling behind her, the unmistakable sound of fabric being slowly pulled down. It felt like the sound of a zip opening, faint but distant.. Monica felt something moving near her ass.
Then something thick, hot, and heavy — far thicker than anything she had ever felt from Rakesh — pressed against the curve of her ass over the thin fabric of her white dress , the fat, hard like iron thing gently moving over her dress. Though she was still shivering from the cold, this unexpected act left Monica stunned and she lay motionless for a while even too scared to shiver!

Tezpal had quietly fished his massive erect cock out of his jeans , the shaft already slick with pre-cum, and in the pitch-black darkness he had lifted the back of her tiny white dress with the stealth of a predator.  

The white thong was no barrier; you don't more  expect that provocative raunchy underwear Monica had decided to wear that evening to be any barrier anyway possible , he hooked one thick finger under the thin strip and tugged it aside just enough, the cool air kissing Monica's exposed asshole for a split second before the burning heat of his cockhead replaced it.  

And as silently and gradually, Tezpal had unzipped his cock, he gradually moved to his next move almost like a silent quiet predator

He started slow, almost creepily gentle — rubbing the swollen head of his thick veiny black cock up and down the length of her married ass crack, coating her skin with his leaking pre-cum like he was marking territory he had no right to touch.

Within minutes, each lazy stroke grew bolder, the heavy shaft of tezpal's cock sliding deeper between her soft, married asscheeks, the sheer girth of his huge penis making her ass cheeks spread obscenely around it.

Monica lay perfectly still unable to believe this was happening in reality, heart hammering, pretending to sleep while her pussy clenched and dripped in silent betrayal.  

Tezpal’s breathing stayed controlled, almost unnervingly quiet, as if he had done this a hundred times in the dark  — suddenly Monica felt warm and charged up, that sick cold feeling of the merciless winter outside slowly slowly drifting away.. As if this was the only possible way to become warm on that ruthless winter night..
And as the warmth gushed into her, Monica felt an unexpected pleasure, the pleasure which was so kinky and forbidden that can't be explained in words!

Then the rhythm changed. Tezpal with the same quiet silence and without shaking the bed even a bit, pressed forward with real force, the fat cock head forcing its way between her ass cheeks until the entire length of his cock was trapped in the warm, sacred valley of her prized ass!

The bed began to shake very faintly with each silent thrust , the shaking almost non existent as he humped her harder, grinding his heavy balls against the back of her already soaked white thongs.

He was using her like a toy, hips rolling in slow, powerful strokes that made the thick shaft glide back and forth, the veiny underside dragging over her tight  asshole with every pass.  

And then with the same quiet silence which was so characteristic of the whole act till now, the pervert fauji was actually spreading her cheeks wider with his thumbs now, holding her open so he could drag the leaking slit of his cockhead right across her puckered hole again and again, leaving it glistening and twitching.  
Monica could feel every ridge, every pulse, every throb of that monstrous dick — so much thicker and longer than her husband’s that it felt obscene, and so damn satisfying sliding between her married cheeks.  

He was getting rougher, the silent humping turning almost violent in its restraint — short, hard thrusts that made her ass jiggle and the bed rock while they both stayed completely mute, the only sound the wet, filthy glide of skin on skin.  

For a long, creepy minute he simply held the head of his cock right against her asshole, pressing, nudging, as if testing how much he could get away with before she “woke up.”  

And unknowingly due to the pleasure and warmth it created, Monica too turned bolder.. She passively bent her posture, unknowingly protruding her ass as much as possible towards Tezpal , so that he can hump her more easily and give her far more pleasure.. The way she placed her ass in a platter to be fucked by Tezpal was not only dangerous but also perverted to the highest order. It was the ultimate straw in that night's filthy adventure..
Naturally, Tezpal responded with strokes that turned frantic — short, desperate pumps, his massive cock sawing between her cheeks like he was fucking the crease of her ass raw.  

Monica’s mind screamed in perverted horror and filthy arousal at the same time — this man she barely knew was secretly using her body like a cheap whore, rubbing his cock all over her most private places, but fully aware her husband Rakesh would be quarter of the size of the giant next to her! She jokingly at times called Rakesh's average size as 'Lulli' teasing Rakesh which made him more horny, but Tezpal is in a different league man, this is not some 'Lulli' , rather this is some 'Lund' which can drive any woman absolutely crazy!

And Tezpal has driven Monica crazy for sure!

Suddenly as a sharp cry of owl came from outside like a bad omen, he stopped , muscles locking, and thick, heavy jets of cum exploded across her ass in violent, endless ropes.  

The first blast splattered hot and thick right over her asshole, painting it creamy white all over.
The second and third ropes flooded the white thong, soaking the fabric until it clung obscenely to her skin.  

More and more came — bucket after bucket of warm, sticky seed coating her entire ass, dripping down her ass cheeks, pooling on the white bedsheet beneath her.  
Tezpal’s breath hitched once, a tiny, satisfied grunt he couldn’t quite swallow, then nothing. That grunt spoke of everything, how he wanted to own the married beauty the moment he saw Monica with her lucky wimp of a husband..

He quietly tucked the still-twitching penis back into his jeans, zipped up his jeans, rolled over, and pretended to sleep like nothing had happened —

Just as the sound of zip signalled the end of the perverted act, Monica’s ass was completely bathed in his load, the thick cum already cooling and turning sticky between her cheeks, the obscene wetness soaking through her expensive white thong and staining the sheet in large, unmistakable patches. She wanted to get up and clean the mess, but the terror and twisted thrill kept her frozen in place. With all of it still burning between her legs, she finally drifted into quick, uneasy sleep.

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Monica woke first. Tezpal was already gone. She slipped out of bed, still feeling light headed due to last night's dirty filthy adventure...

She examined the damage in the cold light. Her expensive red white was crusty with dried cum — thick white streaks everywhere, shocking in quantity. She realized, it was not a dream, it happened very much in reality.. She got ass fucked by that bastard man... Silently, quietly without a word spoken, probably Tezpal thought she was fast asleep like her husband or he may be knew she was fully awake.. Who knows?

The white bedsheet had obvious large, unmistakable stains. She quickly stripped the bed, bundled everything, and dressed in fresh clothes: warm jackets, top and jeans. No one should ever know.

 

She quickly called the room service and asked him to dispose off the stained bed sheet immediately as if trying to destroy every possible memory of the night 's adventure. And next Monica got rid of her expensive panties which she wore last night, put it in a polythene , went to the backyard of the cottage and threw it off as hard as she could.. With that, the sign of her dirty pervert adventure with Tezpal got buried in the jungles for ever, may be some hotel staff will find it and use it to shag at night...

At the late breakfast the whole gang was nursing killer hangovers, laughing about who passed out where. Monica stayed unusually quiet as Tezpal and Jung Bahadur were busy packing their bikes to leave...

“So… who ended up where last night?” Saloni asked, grinning.

Rakesh groaned. “I have no idea. Last thing I remember is Tezpal’s bed.”

Jung Bahadur laughed. “You stole my spot, bhai!”

Monica caught Tezpal’s eye across the lawn still unable to believe what happened last night..

Later, while packing the car, they posed for farewell picture unsure when again they will meet.. They promised to stay in touch everyday like all friendships usually do!

However, the lie hung between Monica and Tezpal alone — the sluttiest, most perverted secret of the entire trip. As the cars pulled away from the hotel, Monica glanced back once. Tezpal was watching her, eyes dark with the memory of her cum-soaked ass pressed against him in the dark.

She smiled to herself, thighs pressing together, already wondering what the long drive home would feel like with that secret burning between her legs.

[SilverArrow]

Monica gripped the steering wheel, her sharp jawline focused on the endless brake lights.

“Rak, this traffic is actually murdering me,” she said. “We’re never reaching Delhi tonight like this”

Rakesh slouched in the passenger seat, face grey from the hangover. " please yaar. Take the village shortcut. It’ll save us three hours atleast. My head is killing me.”

Monica sighed. “Rak, those roads are notorious and it’s getting dark. I don’t like it.”

“Mon, come on"

She shrugged, flicked the indicator and turned onto the narrow village road.

Fifteen minutes later a young boy on a bicycle suddenly appeared in front of the car. Monica slammed the brakes hard but still clipped him. The boy fell hard. Within seconds a small crowd of men gathered.

Monica slammed angrily "Shit!!! "

Few men banged the rear of the car and demanded both Monica and Rakesh to step out!!

The men gathered stared at her openly.
Her deep cleavage spilled out between her much bigger, heavier breasts. The tight jeans made her round, firm ass look even more sexy.

One guy leaned to his friend, speaking in crass Punjabi:

“Oye yaar bhenchoddddd.., dekh ki mast item hai!!"

Another replied : “zanab , is di tight gaand dekh. Main bolun to is nu jungle vich le jaake poora pind is di gaand mare!! "

Rakesh heard the tone. He looked worried.. He pulled Monica
“these guys look dangerous. Get back in right now!”
Monica threw almost three thousand rupees to the injured boy's uncle or father she does not know.

“Sorry… take this for him! Go..go to the nearby hospital please.” She jumped in and sped away.

Two men chased on bikes, throwing stones. One cracked the windshield. They finally escaped but the car was badly damaged.

Thankfully Monica could drive it beyond the village and spot a small roadside garage, The mechanic said it would take at least one full day to repair the damage.

Both looked frustrated since they had important office meetings tomorrow.
Someone at the garage told about the nearby railway station....
Rakesh looked at Monica, Monica nodded "Let's try, we don't have options"

They decided to take the train from the nearby station — the daily train to Delhi at 9:40 PM.

The station was weird, something Monica never saw in lifetime. Dark and desolate with few hawkers and even fewer passengers. Prostitutes lined the platform trying to get whatever customers they could. Filthy garbage piled up on the corner. A group of four rough men spotted Monica immediately



Rakesh somehow hurried and pushed through the queue to try for a ticket, but could buy only general class tickets before the train started chugging out from the platform..
Rakesh muttered, " Shit we gonna miss this train also "
Monica snapped " Fuck getting reserved tickets Rakesh, Run.. We need to board this train "

The train started and stopped mid way much to their respite, giving them time to board one of the sleeper compartments

.. Jam packed with cheap labourers and reeking of sweat and smell of urine from the unclean bathrooms, Monica shuddered before entering the shadowy dark compartment..

Shady smelly labourers oogled like wolf at Monica, wondering what such a hottie was doing in a secluded village station..

" Rak, keep walking, I can't travel in this compartment, these bastards are undressing me off with their eyes "

" Let's try the next compartment.. "

Rakesh moved ahead trying to push through men and children lying and sleeping on the train floor !

The next compartment was even worse as people were literally slept inside the train washroom..

" What the fuck is this Rak, people sleeping inside washroom? Is this the condition of our country in 2026 ?" Monica felt like throwing up..

" Let's try the next one Monica "

" Rak, let's get down in the next station, Fuck!!! I under estimated, this is worse than hell! " Monica put a mask on her face to avoid the stink..

As they waded into the third compartment,  they met that same group of men who tried to brush against Monica's ass at the ticket counter..

"It's just getting worse Rakesh, Fuck it " Monica slammed her handbag angrily..

Rakesh asked one of the men in the group " Bhai Saab aap log ke reservation hai? "

The men looked up "Sirjee, humlog ke reservation to hai...Aap log Delhi ja rahe ho?”

Rakesh nodded. “Haan ji, lekin reservation nahi hai ”

" Koi nahi, baitho ji...madam aap bhi baitho koi dikkat nai hai ." The men sat close to each other and gave good space to Monica and Rakesh to sit on the opposite side.

The men seemed to be factory workers and settled down and adjusted their enormous amount of luggage - bed, beddings, utensils, clothes as if it was some junkyard..

The stocky man who had thick hands and heavy voice asked Rakesh in crass Punjabi "ab batao ji, gaon vich kya hua? Accident lag gaya si?”
Monica’s big eyes widened. How the fuck they knew..Shit!!!

Rakesh tried pretending " Kya?"
Another rough looking man in the group grinned " Ghabrao ni Saab, aap log ko motor garage pe dekha..islie..sab thik hai na?"

Monica switched to Hindi. “Haan ji bhaisaab, baas ignition pe problem thi...islie.. "

Monica whispered to Rakesh " Rak, I just think they saw us at the garage, I don't think they know about the accident or the kid, so just play along!! "

Rakesh nodded!!

Rakesh laughed lightly . “Aap log ko bahut shukriya ji . Bahut log aise madad nahi karte. Hum dono bahut tired bhi the ”
The stocky man grinned
" Aree bhai,  aaram Karo jagah chota hai lekin adjust kar lenge ji.. Kyu Rafiq? "

The stocky man was Javed and the muscular one was Rafiq. The other two Pappu and chottu. They all worked in a glass factory near ghaziabad and had come to their villages for the weekend...

They left a generous space for Monica and behaved gentlemanly quite gentlemanly!!

Rakesh still hesitated for this help and asked " Javed Saab, aap log ko itni takleef nhi lena chahie, aap log ki reserved ticket hai !!"

Javed laughed " Saab, aini thand pe kaha jaoge madam ko leke? Kaha bhi safe nhi hai, aaram se befikar baitho ji na!!"



Rakesh, Monica and Javed, Rafiq started talking about stations which are all haunted in that route.
Monica couldn't help but laugh and looked at Rakesh " Ghosts really? That's the only thing left for this eventful night.

Rakesh was yawning like a kid, but both he and Monica could not fall asleep, not in that stinking compartment by any mean. So they just listened to the funny nonsense the men spoke about ghosts in their village. The train halted at another noisy station. And much to the despair of Monica, three four stinking sadhus got inside the compartment and sat in the lower berth near Rakesh and Monica. These sadhus were old, like really old, won't be surprising if one of them would even cross 100 years of age!

Monica muttered silently "Rak, what circus is this now? These assholes have not taken bath for more than a decade for sure, how am I going to survive this for the night "
Even Rakesh felt sick with the smell and filth.. He whispered " Mon, I know but what can I do these sadhus have reserved tickets "
Javed understood the dilemma, he spoke softly " Saab badbu to kafi aa rahe, hum log ek kaam karte hai, upar ke berth pe chale jate hai ji! Adjust kar lenge kyu?"

Monica spoke loudly which now even Javed and others could hear " Look Rakesh, even this factory guy Javed has better judgement than you!! "

Rakesh felt quite humiliated at this crude comparison with Javed and that too in front of all of Javed's friends... But he ignored the jibe, as the sadhus started making their bed to sleep almost rudely pushing them off!!

Rakesh felt like throwing up, the stink making it worse, his head spinning round..
Javed held Rakesh by the arm " Aree bhai tabiyat bigad gaayi kya? Aap aaram karo"

Rakesh meekly protested " No Javed bhai, main thik Hoon! "

" Bilkul nahi Saab, oye Pappu upar wala berth saaf kar jaldi,upar chalo Saab "

Rakesh was coughing badly, the suffocation inside the compartment killing him!!

Javed and Rafiq held him and almost carried him to the upper berth as Rakesh felt weak in his muscles , Rakesh looked sorry.. Monica gave him a sleeping tablet "Don't worry Rak, you will be okay, just relax"

The compartment got worse — more people lying on the floor, luggage everywhere, smell of sweat and piss getting thicker. Rakesh started dozing against the dirty pillow given by Pappu.

Rafiq looked at Monica : “Memsaab, upar wali side berth khali hai. Aap upar baith jao. Neeche itni bheed aur luggage, aapko takleef hogi. Hum adjust kar lenge.”

She hesitated. The lower berth was hell — sadhus openly staring at her tits, luggage poking her.
She hesitated , but climbed up.Javed said after sometime, “Hum bhi upar aate hain madam, idhar yeh sadhu log baithne nhi de rahe ”



Monica thought for a second. She had no option, the sadhus chanted some weird mantra and rudely asked both Javed and Rafiq to buzz off!

They climbed up and sat on the other side of the upper berth, leaving proper space. Their thick frame and heavy body radiated heat which made Monica uncomfortable. The train moved at breakneck speed.

“Memsaab, garam parathe khao ji, ghar ke banaye hain,” Javed requested Monica after opening a steel lunch box which had modest parathas and pickle.

“Nahi ji, aap log khao. Mujhe bilkul bhuk nhi hai .” Monica refused politely..
They ate like hungry gluttons, not leaving a single crumb of parathas in the box.

Monica's phone battery died. The charger was in her bag tucked near the edge of the upper berth, down near the floor.

“Bag mein charger hai,” she and turned around, got on all fours on the narrow upper berth, and reached down to grab it. Her tight jeans stretched hard over her round, firm sexy ass — the denim digging deep into her crack, showing the perfect curve.
Javed and Rafiq’s eyes locked on it.
Javed leaned close to Rafiq and whispered , voice low and filthy:

“Oye bhenchod, dekh us di gaand! Ki mast tight gaand hai yaar…”

Rafiq grinned, eyes glued to her ass, already rubbing himself:

"is di tight gaand vich lund ghusa ke zor zor se pelna hai is memsaab ko raat bhar . Bhen di laudi, aisi gaand roz nahi milti.”

They both started stroking their cocks slowly under the blanket, watching her struggle to reach the bag, her bigger heavier breasts hanging and moving inside the low-cut top.
Monica finally got the charger, sat back up, little surprised at how the men looked at her iphone which was such a common thing in Gurgaon, but may be an unusual luxury in the village they come from, but what they were really oogling at was her sexy ass!!

The train rattled on through the dark, stinking night , Monica and Javed and Rafiq chatted along, about their village life,  ghaziabad job, they asked for vacancies in Monica's company..

"Madam aapke company pe koi job Lagwa do..yeh glass factory ke pagar bahut Kam hai "

Monica thought to help as they spoke about their horribly poor salary and how each one of them supported at least ten or more family members.

" How many kids you have " Monica asked curious
" Memsaab, mere teen aulad hai, sab ladke, Rafiq bhai ke chaar aulad, fir biwi, bhai, behen itna bara pariwar sirf 20000 hazar mahine se kase chalaenge"

The train was rocking hard. Rakesh was half-conscious on the upper berth, mumbling something in his sleep

Javed and Rafiq had moved closer on the narrow berth. Their legs were almost touching hers now.
Monica said " Thik hai.. I will try, aap log ke koi CV wagera hai? Kase kaam kar sakte ho?"
Rafiq smiled " CV bana denge memsaab.. Computer wagera to nhi aata ji, lekin security guard ki naukri kar lenge.. Kyu Javed? "
Javed nodded
" I will give my HR email I'd, aap log CV bhej dena.. main HR ko bata bhi dungi" Monica replied
Memsaab, aap thak gayi ho na? Aaram se let jao. Hum log side mein baith jaate hain,” Javed said

She hesitated. The lower berth was still hell — sadhus snoring loudly, one of them scratching his balls openly while staring up at her. And each station the train stopped, swarms of people entered the dark dimly lit compartment like insects. People lay down wherever they could.. Over the floor, near the bathroom, all over the seats.. Seats which could accommodate just 3 people had 10 men jostling for space within...on top of it, it was stinking and all the extra people made the compartment hot and claustrophobic inspite of the January North India winters..

Both men shifted but didn’t move much. Now she was lying on her side, facing the window, with Javed behind her and Rafiq near her legs. The blanket was thin. She could feel the heat from their bodies.

The train sped through the dark. Monica tried to close her eyes but couldn’t sleep. Every time the train jerked, she felt Javed’s leg brush against her ass. She ignored it the first two times. The third time she felt his hand rest on her ass “by mistake”.
She turned her head slightly, Javed smiled in the dark, “Sorry memsaab, jagah kam hai. Adjust kar lo.”
But he didn’t move his hand. Instead, his fingers slowly pressed into her tight jeans, feeling the curve of her ass.
Monica’s heart started beating fast. She looked down at Rakesh on the berth below. He was completely out, mouth open, snoring lightly. Useless as always.
Rafiq leaned forward and whispered..
Monica couldn’t understand Punjabi but she could feel the change in the air. Their breathing had become heavier. Javed’s hand was no longer “accidentally” on her — it was openly squeezing her ass now, his fingers digging into the tight denim.

She whispered in firm voice , “Javed ji…yeh aap Kya kar rahe ho app?”

Javed leaned close to her ear and replied his voice thick, “memsaab, niche dekhie..kitna saare tagda banda baithe hai..hum kya kare jagah hi nhi hai ji”

Rafiq moved closer too. His hand came from the front and rested on her thighs, slowly moving up towards her crotch.

Monica’s body tensed. She could feel her heart pounding faster than the night train..She wanted to scream but the compartment was full of sleeping people. The sadhus below were snoring loudly. Rakesh was dead to the world.

The train entered a long tunnel. One of those tunnels which come so suddenly.. Everything went pitch black. The sound of the rattling engine intensified..
And in the darkness, the horror slowly unfolded ..

Monica felt Javed’s hand slide under her top from behind, his rough fingers touching the bare skin of her waist, playing nicely with the smooth milky skin of her waist...
Monica tried to squirm and hold Javed's thick hairy hands, but she could not even match his raw animalistic power.

She was panting " I... I will shout now bastard!! " Monica could hardly utter... The fear and filth of the dirty act scared her so much..
" Finally bol rahi hu aap dono jail jaoge, stop it" Monica whispered after struggling out of their bear like hands..

Javed coldly whispered " Memsaab, yeh train hamare har Roz ka safar hai, koi p-o-l-i-c-e, volice nahi aaata yaha, aap bahut khoobsurat ho, aur samajhdar bhi, koi chillane ki koshish ki to aap dono ko bhari nuksaan hogi " His bloodshot eyes had a kind of ferocity which sent shivers down Monica's throat .

Javed’s hand was already inside Monica’s top, his rough fingers touching her bare stomach, slowly moving up.

Rafiq’s fingers had more sinister filthy plans as it edged closer to the button of her jeans, Monica’s body went stiff. She was breathing as if she had just completed a marathon.
She whispered in a low, angry voice

“madarchodd ... haath hata last time bol rahi hu!! .Jail pe sarega tu log”

Javed didn’t remove his hand. He pressed closer and whispered back in Hindi, calm but firm,
“Memsaab, aap ke liye ek gift hai..chota sa” and Monica saw trembling how he slowly took out a small sharp pencil knife which shone even in the darkness...

" Aab aur kitna juban chalayga bol "
Monica gasped in fear, Javed jabbed the knife straight near her throat..
" Kya Hua bol, chilla abhi.. Chilla memsaab! " Javed teased her with the knife near her throat..

Suddenly the train jerked violently, Monica felt the knife would pierce her...Something heavy fell from the lower berth with a loud crash. Rakesh woke up with a jolt, his head spinning. He tried to sit up, confused and groggy.

“Monica…? Kya hua…?”
The moment Rakesh’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Javed’s hand inside Monica’s top and the shiny knife..

His face went pale with shock and anger.
“Tu kya kar raha hai bhenchod?!” Rakesh hissed, trying to get up.
Before he could move, Pappu (who had climbed up silently) pressed another cold, sharp knife against Rakesh’s throat from behind. The blade touched his skin.
“Chup rah hero ” Pappu whispered in his voice deadly calm. “Hilna mat. Warna gala kaat ke neeche fenk dunga"

Rakesh froze. His eyes were wide with terror. He looked at Monica, then at the knife on his own throat.

Monica’s breathing stopped for a second. She looked at Rakesh, then turned to Javed and Rafiq. Her voice came out low but full of rage
“kitna pyasa chahie tum logo ko bolo, humlog de denge!!”
Javed leaned close to her and snatched her purse ,
“Yeh hui na baat! Kitna pyasa chahie!!”

Javed laughed and snatched out whatever notes were there in her purse. And a beautifully designed gold bracelet..

Rakesh was shocked " Yeh kya kar rahe ho? " Pappu slowly moved his hands near Rakesh's crotch and with a rude jolt, got hold of his balls in his thick hands and pressed it silently, Rakesh grimaced in pain and chocked.. Pappu continued his evil perverted act as Rakesh chocked in pain, tears falling from his eyes like a baby..
Pappu laughed " Aree Javed Saab, yeh chutiya to rone lag gaya"
Javed and Rafiq laughed harder.. Rafiq sharply retorted " Javed, memsaab ko sambhal!! "

Telling this he silently jumped to the berth where Pappu and Rakesh were seated... Rafiq huge frame looked like imminent danger..
Monica hissed at Rafiq " Kya kar rahe ho tum?"
Rafiq instantly sat next to Rakesh and held his balls hard, "Pappu tu chor, main  dikhata hun isko gaon ka mardangi kase hota hai"
Rafiq now pressed Rakesh's soft balls so hard he groaned in pain, words indistinct with each moment..
" uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhh" Pappu held his mouth as Rakesh grimaced and trmebled like a lamb getting slaughtered..

Monica clenched her teeth in anger and hissed , "Madarchodd, Ye kya kar rahe ho tumlog? Main aapko paise deti hoon! Jitne maango utne! Bas ruk jao!”

Rafiq stopped the assault, by then Rakesh had lost even the power to speak, under the severe pain he frothed out blood from his mouth... He coughed, and frothed out more blood,
" Kya Javed, kase kamzoor chutiya hai yeh.. Hut laora.." Rafiq and Pappu laughed..
Monica in tears now " Rak, are you okay dear? "
Rakesh nodded trying to clean the blood and the spit..
Monica looked at Javed " Dekho ji, aap log bahut galaat kar rahe ho, itni behraami se mare tumlog Rakesh ko, jail jaoge... Bass jail jaoge tumlog Janwar!!! "

Rafiq jumped back to the other berth near Monica " Aree madam Janwar ka kya dekhe? Oye Pappu, saab ke haath se ghari utha le jaldi!! "
Pappu pulled Rakesh expensive wrist watch..
" Rafiq bhai, mehenga phone hai utha le? "
" Abe behenchod, aakal nhi hai tujhe number se p-o-l-i-c-e track kar lega, gandu ke aulat "

Javed pooled in the entire loot, the money, both their wrist watch, the gold bracelet
Javed calmly zipped up the bag full of their money, watches, and Monica’s gold bracelet.

He looked at her in the darkness.
“Aree memsaab kitni khoobsurat ho aap, aur is chutiya se shadi ki.. Kamaal karte ho!! Aaj aap ko asli goonda wala mardangi dikhaenge..kase rahega!!"

Monica was still crying. Tears rolled down her face, but her eyes stayed defiant and strong. She looked straight at Javed and whispered in a broken but firm voice in Hindi,
“Javed ji… main shadi shuda hun yeh galaat hai...”

Javed leaned closer. His voice was calm but deadly serious ,
“Memsaab, suno. Yeh saahi galaat kya hote ji..Yeh train hamara roz ka rasta hai. Yahan koi p-o-l-i-c-e nahi aati.  Koi nahi poochta. Agar aapne koi harkat ki… toh main do second mein aapke pati ka gala kaat ke neeche fenk dunga. Koi nahi jaanega. Koi nahi poochega. Ek second. Bas”

Monica’s body shuddered. Fresh tears came, but her face stayed strong. Rafiq moved closer to her on the narrow berth.

“Memsaab, darne ki koi baat nahi. Hum log aapko kuch nahi karenge. Bas thoda maza denge. Aapko bhi accha lagega. Thoda fun hoga… kyu?”

Javed’s eyes turned cold. He looked at Pappu and spoke

“Pappu… Ek kaam kar...Saab ke nunu pe chhura laga. Abhi nahi kaatna. Bas rakhna. Agar memsaab ne koi harkat ki toh uske suje hue gote (balls) kaat dena.”

Pappu grinned in the dark and moved the knife down to Rakesh’s crotch. He pressed the cold blade against Rakesh’s swollen, bruised balls. Rakesh’s body jerked in pain.
Monica’s eyes widened in horror. She shuddered violently. Her voice came out as a broken whisper,
“Thik hai.. Rakesh se knife hatao aur bolo kya karna hai” The words emerged out of Monica as she looked straight, her eyes fully submitted to the horror of the night..

Rakesh, even in his broken state, tried to speak. His voice was weak and full of pain,
“Monica… what are you saying..they won't do anything..they are just threatening ”

Monica looked at him through her tears. Her face was still strong, even though her voice was shaking. She whispered firmly,
“Rak… don't you see what they have done to you.. This is my decision..there is no way out..just keep quiet!!”

"Oye hero, madam boli na " Keep quiet"!! "

Rafiq grinned...Javed smiled in the darkness. He reached out and slowly pulled Monica’s top up, exposing her big heavy breasts in a skimpy Bra quite inadequate for her large tits..her proud large tits spilled out of the fashionable Bra in a huge unapologetic cleavage...

Javed hissed " Behenchod, kya mamme hai iski ..dekh Rafiq aisee khoobsurat mamme kabhi dekha pehle?"

Rafiq " Abe behenchodd.. Yeh chutiya ko aese biwi mila kase "

Pappu also smiled and whispered to Rakesh "Bhai, kya cheez hai memsaab..isko to Javed bhai aapne saath leke jaake shadi kar lenge aur poor raat iski dudu peeyenge"
Tears rolled down Rakesh's eyes...