Great update
Actress Sex Story Actress Fantasy short stories - Mystery
- Thread starter Mack Kenndy
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semma update bro
when next update?
when next update?
Update bro
Guys how do you want me to continue the story ? in the present or in the past?
Present Please do something with PAM
Anything is fine
Just continue the story
Bro we don't care who it is but present it with good writing and images that's all
Chapter 4 : The Wedge.
As the first light of dawn crept through the window, casting long shadows across the room, he knew that their ordeal was far from over. He stopped narrating the story and thought that together, they would face whatever trials lay ahead, bound by a fragile alliance forged in the crucible of adversity. As the morning sun began to paint the sky with hues of orange and gold, Bala could sense the tension in the air gradually easing. Priyanka, though still wary, seemed to relax marginally, her shoulders losing some of their rigidness.
Bala prepared a simple breakfast, offering Priyanka a small gesture of hospitality amidst the turmoil of their circumstances. As they sat together at the table, sharing a meagre meal. In that moment, he realized that despite the vast differences between them, they shared a common bond forged by adversity. And as they sat together in the quietude of his home, Bala couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in Priyanka, he had found an unexpected ally. And as they sat together in the quietude of his home, Bala couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in Priyanka, he had found an unexpected ally. After having the meal Priyanka was about to leave, but didn't know the way back to Rashmika's home.
Bala watched as Priyanka stood up from the table, a hint of uncertainty clouding her expression. Sensing her hesitation, he spoke gently, "Would you like me to walk you back to Rashmika's home? It's not far, but I understand if you're not familiar with the area." Priyanka's eyes softened, gratitude flickering in their depths. "That would be appreciated," she replied softly, a hint of relief evident in her voice.
Bala nodded, rising from his seat and gesturing for Priyanka to follow him. Stepping out into the crisp morning air, they began their journey through the quiet streets, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. As they walked, Bala found himself struck by the unexpected companionship he felt with Priyanka. Despite their initial differences and the uncertain circumstances that had brought them together, there was a sense of camaraderie between them that he hadn't anticipated.
Arriving at Rashmika's home, Bala paused, turning to face Priyanka with a small smile. "Thank you for sharing breakfast with me," he said sincerely. "And for allowing me to accompany you back. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Priyanka returned his smile, her gaze warm with appreciation. "Thank you, Bala," she replied softly. "I'll remember that." With a final nod, they bid each other farewell, parting ways with a newfound understanding and a sense of connection that defied the boundaries of their differences.
As Priyanka entered Rashmika's home, she found her friend pacing anxiously in the living room, her brow furrowed with worry. Rashmika's eyes widened in relief when she saw Priyanka, and she rushed forward to embrace her. "Priyanka, where have you been? I was so worried!" Rashmika exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.
Priyanka gently pulled away from the embrace, her expression somber. "I'm sorry, Rashmika. It's a long story," she began, her voice steady as she recounted the events of the previous night. As Priyanka spoke, Rashmika's eyes widened in disbelief, her hands trembling slightly as she listened to the tale of the mysterious ritual, the abandoned bungalow, and the enigmatic figure of Bala. She gasped in shock as Priyanka described being dragged away and finding refuge in Bala's home.
Priyanka looked at Rashmika with a mixture of concern and frustration. "No, Rashmika, I wasn't dreaming. I saw everything with my own eyes," she insisted, her voice unwavering. Rashmika shook her head, her expression troubled. "But Priyanka, Ananya wouldn't do something like that. She's always been a devout follower of our village's traditions. And besides, she's a virgin. It doesn't make sense for her to be involved in such rituals," Rashmika reasoned, her voice tinged with doubt.
Priyanka sighed, understanding her friend's reluctance to accept the truth. "I know it's hard to believe, Rashmika. But I saw Ananya with my own eyes, participating in that ritual," she said firmly.
Rashmika's brow furrowed in concern. "Regardless, Priyanka, I think it's best if you stay out of this. It's not safe to get involved in the village's affairs, especially if they're as dark and mysterious as you say," she cautioned, her tone earnest. As Priyanka and Rashmika delved deeper into their conversation, the tension between them became palpable. What started as a friendly exchange of differing viewpoints soon escalated into a full-blown argument, with Rashmika staunchly defending the village's traditions, despite not fully understanding them. "Priyanka, I can't believe you're questioning our village's rituals," Rashmika exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. "These customs have been passed down for generations. They're part of who we are."
Priyanka sighed, trying to reason with her friend. "But Rashmika, do you even know what these rituals entail? We can't just blindly follow traditions without understanding their significance or implications."
Rashmika bristled at the suggestion, her loyalty to her village unwavering. "Of course, I know what they entail! They're sacred practices that have kept our community together for centuries. We can't just abandon them because you think they're outdated." Priyanka shook her head, feeling increasingly exasperated. "But what if some of these rituals are harmful or discriminatory? Shouldn't we question them and strive for progress?" Rashmika's eyes flashed with indignation. "Progress? What do you know about progress, Priyanka? You're just an outsider who thinks she knows what's best for us. But you don't understand the importance of our traditions."
The argument continued to escalate, with Rashmika vehemently defending the village's customs and Priyanka growing frustrated by her friend's stubbornness. Despite their bond, it seemed like they were at an impasse, unable to bridge the gap between their differing beliefs.
In the heat of the moment, Priyanka made a decision. "I'm sorry, Rashmika. I can't continue this argument. But I won't stop questioning the world around me, even if it means challenging traditions that don't make sense."
With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving Rashmika to ponder their disagreement. And as she disappeared into the distance, Priyanka couldn't shake the feeling that their friendship had been strained by their differing beliefs.
As the first light of dawn crept through the window, casting long shadows across the room, he knew that their ordeal was far from over. He stopped narrating the story and thought that together, they would face whatever trials lay ahead, bound by a fragile alliance forged in the crucible of adversity. As the morning sun began to paint the sky with hues of orange and gold, Bala could sense the tension in the air gradually easing. Priyanka, though still wary, seemed to relax marginally, her shoulders losing some of their rigidness.
Bala prepared a simple breakfast, offering Priyanka a small gesture of hospitality amidst the turmoil of their circumstances. As they sat together at the table, sharing a meagre meal. In that moment, he realized that despite the vast differences between them, they shared a common bond forged by adversity. And as they sat together in the quietude of his home, Bala couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in Priyanka, he had found an unexpected ally. And as they sat together in the quietude of his home, Bala couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in Priyanka, he had found an unexpected ally. After having the meal Priyanka was about to leave, but didn't know the way back to Rashmika's home.
Bala watched as Priyanka stood up from the table, a hint of uncertainty clouding her expression. Sensing her hesitation, he spoke gently, "Would you like me to walk you back to Rashmika's home? It's not far, but I understand if you're not familiar with the area." Priyanka's eyes softened, gratitude flickering in their depths. "That would be appreciated," she replied softly, a hint of relief evident in her voice.
Bala nodded, rising from his seat and gesturing for Priyanka to follow him. Stepping out into the crisp morning air, they began their journey through the quiet streets, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. As they walked, Bala found himself struck by the unexpected companionship he felt with Priyanka. Despite their initial differences and the uncertain circumstances that had brought them together, there was a sense of camaraderie between them that he hadn't anticipated.
Arriving at Rashmika's home, Bala paused, turning to face Priyanka with a small smile. "Thank you for sharing breakfast with me," he said sincerely. "And for allowing me to accompany you back. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Priyanka returned his smile, her gaze warm with appreciation. "Thank you, Bala," she replied softly. "I'll remember that." With a final nod, they bid each other farewell, parting ways with a newfound understanding and a sense of connection that defied the boundaries of their differences.
As Priyanka entered Rashmika's home, she found her friend pacing anxiously in the living room, her brow furrowed with worry. Rashmika's eyes widened in relief when she saw Priyanka, and she rushed forward to embrace her. "Priyanka, where have you been? I was so worried!" Rashmika exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.
Priyanka gently pulled away from the embrace, her expression somber. "I'm sorry, Rashmika. It's a long story," she began, her voice steady as she recounted the events of the previous night. As Priyanka spoke, Rashmika's eyes widened in disbelief, her hands trembling slightly as she listened to the tale of the mysterious ritual, the abandoned bungalow, and the enigmatic figure of Bala. She gasped in shock as Priyanka described being dragged away and finding refuge in Bala's home.
Priyanka looked at Rashmika with a mixture of concern and frustration. "No, Rashmika, I wasn't dreaming. I saw everything with my own eyes," she insisted, her voice unwavering. Rashmika shook her head, her expression troubled. "But Priyanka, Ananya wouldn't do something like that. She's always been a devout follower of our village's traditions. And besides, she's a virgin. It doesn't make sense for her to be involved in such rituals," Rashmika reasoned, her voice tinged with doubt.
Priyanka sighed, understanding her friend's reluctance to accept the truth. "I know it's hard to believe, Rashmika. But I saw Ananya with my own eyes, participating in that ritual," she said firmly.
Rashmika's brow furrowed in concern. "Regardless, Priyanka, I think it's best if you stay out of this. It's not safe to get involved in the village's affairs, especially if they're as dark and mysterious as you say," she cautioned, her tone earnest. As Priyanka and Rashmika delved deeper into their conversation, the tension between them became palpable. What started as a friendly exchange of differing viewpoints soon escalated into a full-blown argument, with Rashmika staunchly defending the village's traditions, despite not fully understanding them. "Priyanka, I can't believe you're questioning our village's rituals," Rashmika exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. "These customs have been passed down for generations. They're part of who we are."
Priyanka sighed, trying to reason with her friend. "But Rashmika, do you even know what these rituals entail? We can't just blindly follow traditions without understanding their significance or implications."
Rashmika bristled at the suggestion, her loyalty to her village unwavering. "Of course, I know what they entail! They're sacred practices that have kept our community together for centuries. We can't just abandon them because you think they're outdated." Priyanka shook her head, feeling increasingly exasperated. "But what if some of these rituals are harmful or discriminatory? Shouldn't we question them and strive for progress?" Rashmika's eyes flashed with indignation. "Progress? What do you know about progress, Priyanka? You're just an outsider who thinks she knows what's best for us. But you don't understand the importance of our traditions."
The argument continued to escalate, with Rashmika vehemently defending the village's customs and Priyanka growing frustrated by her friend's stubbornness. Despite their bond, it seemed like they were at an impasse, unable to bridge the gap between their differing beliefs.
In the heat of the moment, Priyanka made a decision. "I'm sorry, Rashmika. I can't continue this argument. But I won't stop questioning the world around me, even if it means challenging traditions that don't make sense."
With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving Rashmika to ponder their disagreement. And as she disappeared into the distance, Priyanka couldn't shake the feeling that their friendship had been strained by their differing beliefs.
As Priyanka stepped out of Rashmika's house, she was greeted by a sense of unease that hung heavy in the air. The morning sun struggled to pierce through the thick canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows across the village streets. The distant sound of hurried footsteps and hushed whispers filled her ears, drawing her attention towards the direction of Predha Pathar.
Curious, Priyanka followed the commotion, weaving through the maze of narrow lanes and bustling markets. As she approached the outskirts of the village, the crowd grew denser, their voices rising in a crescendo of fear and speculation."What happened?" Priyanka asked, pressing her way through the throng of villagers.
A woman turned to her, her face pale with dread. "They found a beheaded body near Predha Pathar," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's the work of Kameshwari Yakshini, I tell you!"
Priyanka's heart sank as she heard the superstitious murmurs rippling through the crowd. She knew the truth behind the gruesome discovery, but revealing it would only invite scorn and disbelief. Pushing through the crowd, Priyanka finally reached the edge of Predha Pathar. There, amidst the rocky terrain and twisted roots of ancient trees, lay the lifeless body of a man, his head severed from his body.
As the village head Nayanthara approached the scene, a hushed silence fell over the crowd, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the wind rustling through the trees. Villagers bowed their heads in reverence and fear as Nayanthara passed, her presence commanding respect and awe.Priyanka watched from the edge of the crowd, her gaze scanning the faces gathered around Nayanthara.
Nayanthara, regal and imposing, surveyed the scene before her with a keen eye. Her gaze lingered on the lifeless body of the young man, her expression inscrutable as she took in the grim sight. After a moment, she turned to address the gathered villagers, her voice resonating with authority. " The man didn't appease to the rules of the village and became victim to the wrath of Yakshini. He abused his wife against her wishes which is unacceptable according to our traditions and also haven't placed the jasmine garland in front of home yesterday which was a new moon day. His death may be an example to all who tends to be in-adherent to our village traditions."
As the villagers gathered around Nayanthara, Priyanka's eyes locked onto Bala's, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the somber atmosphere. With a subtle nod, Bala motioned for Priyanka to join him on the outskirts of the crowd, away from the prying ears of the villagers. Once they were out of earshot, Priyanka took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bala, we need to talk," she began, her tone serious yet tinged with urgency. "I saw what happened last night, at the ritual site. And I know you saw it too."
His expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. "Yes, I saw," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd. "But we must tread carefully. These are dangerous waters we're wading into." Priyanka nodded, her gaze unwavering. "I understand," she replied, her voice firm. "But we can't just stand by and do nothing. An innocent man is dead, and the villagers are living in fear. We need to uncover the truth, no matter the cost."
Bala sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of their shared burden. "I know," he murmured, his voice heavy with resignation. "But we must proceed with caution. We don't know who we can trust, and one wrong move could put us all in danger."Priyanka nodded in agreement, her mind already racing with plans and strategies. "I won't let fear hold me back," she declared, her voice tinged with determination. "We'll find out what's really going on here, together." He offered her a small, appreciative smile, a silent acknowledgment of their shared resolve. "Together," he echoed, his voice steady despite the uncertainty that lay ahead.
With a shared nod, Priyanka and Bala turned their attention back to the unfolding scene before them, their minds already focused on the task at hand. And as they stood side by side amidst the murmuring crowd, a silent understanding passed between them, forged in the crucible of their shared knowledge and determination to uncover the truth.
Realizing she hadn't yet made her request, Priyanka cleared her throat and turned back to Bala. "Bala, before we do anything else, can you please continue your story from where you left off? I need to know what you were going to tell me about the what happened between Dimple and the merchant and what was the plan of Pooja ?
As Priyanka leaned in, eager to hear more from Bala, he raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "Hold your horses, Priyanka," he said, his voice low but firm. "Before we delve any further into this, we need to gather more information. Specifically, about Nayanthara."
As Bala suggested inquiring about Nayanthara, Priyanka's mind flashed back to the eerie ritual she had witnessed the previous night. She remembered seeing Nayanthara's imposing figure overseeing the proceedings, her presence commanding both respect and fear from the villagers. With a solemn nod, Priyanka turned to Bala, her eyes reflecting determination. "You're right, Bala. Nayanthara may hold the answers we seek," Priyanka agreed, her voice firm despite the lingering sense of apprehension. "I saw her there last night, amidst the ritual. She seemed... different somehow, as if she held a deeper understanding of what was happening."
Bala's gaze met hers, his expression grave. "We must tread carefully, Priyanka," he warned, his voice tinged with concern. "Nayanthara is a formidable figure in this village, and delving into matters that concern her may attract unwanted attention." Priyanka nodded, acknowledging the gravity of Bala's words. "I understand," she replied, her resolve unwavering. "But we can't ignore the truth, Bala. Whatever secrets Nayanthara is hiding, we need to uncover them—for the sake of this village and its people."
With a shared understanding and a shared sense of purpose, Priyanka and Bala set off towards Nayanthara's mansion, their footsteps resolute as they embarked on a journey that would test their courage and their convictions. And as they walked, the weight of the village's secrets hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of Yakshinpur.
Curious, Priyanka followed the commotion, weaving through the maze of narrow lanes and bustling markets. As she approached the outskirts of the village, the crowd grew denser, their voices rising in a crescendo of fear and speculation."What happened?" Priyanka asked, pressing her way through the throng of villagers.
A woman turned to her, her face pale with dread. "They found a beheaded body near Predha Pathar," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's the work of Kameshwari Yakshini, I tell you!"
Priyanka's heart sank as she heard the superstitious murmurs rippling through the crowd. She knew the truth behind the gruesome discovery, but revealing it would only invite scorn and disbelief. Pushing through the crowd, Priyanka finally reached the edge of Predha Pathar. There, amidst the rocky terrain and twisted roots of ancient trees, lay the lifeless body of a man, his head severed from his body.
As the village head Nayanthara approached the scene, a hushed silence fell over the crowd, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the wind rustling through the trees. Villagers bowed their heads in reverence and fear as Nayanthara passed, her presence commanding respect and awe.Priyanka watched from the edge of the crowd, her gaze scanning the faces gathered around Nayanthara.
Nayanthara, regal and imposing, surveyed the scene before her with a keen eye. Her gaze lingered on the lifeless body of the young man, her expression inscrutable as she took in the grim sight. After a moment, she turned to address the gathered villagers, her voice resonating with authority. " The man didn't appease to the rules of the village and became victim to the wrath of Yakshini. He abused his wife against her wishes which is unacceptable according to our traditions and also haven't placed the jasmine garland in front of home yesterday which was a new moon day. His death may be an example to all who tends to be in-adherent to our village traditions."
As the villagers gathered around Nayanthara, Priyanka's eyes locked onto Bala's, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the somber atmosphere. With a subtle nod, Bala motioned for Priyanka to join him on the outskirts of the crowd, away from the prying ears of the villagers. Once they were out of earshot, Priyanka took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bala, we need to talk," she began, her tone serious yet tinged with urgency. "I saw what happened last night, at the ritual site. And I know you saw it too."
His expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. "Yes, I saw," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd. "But we must tread carefully. These are dangerous waters we're wading into." Priyanka nodded, her gaze unwavering. "I understand," she replied, her voice firm. "But we can't just stand by and do nothing. An innocent man is dead, and the villagers are living in fear. We need to uncover the truth, no matter the cost."
Bala sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of their shared burden. "I know," he murmured, his voice heavy with resignation. "But we must proceed with caution. We don't know who we can trust, and one wrong move could put us all in danger."Priyanka nodded in agreement, her mind already racing with plans and strategies. "I won't let fear hold me back," she declared, her voice tinged with determination. "We'll find out what's really going on here, together." He offered her a small, appreciative smile, a silent acknowledgment of their shared resolve. "Together," he echoed, his voice steady despite the uncertainty that lay ahead.
With a shared nod, Priyanka and Bala turned their attention back to the unfolding scene before them, their minds already focused on the task at hand. And as they stood side by side amidst the murmuring crowd, a silent understanding passed between them, forged in the crucible of their shared knowledge and determination to uncover the truth.
Realizing she hadn't yet made her request, Priyanka cleared her throat and turned back to Bala. "Bala, before we do anything else, can you please continue your story from where you left off? I need to know what you were going to tell me about the what happened between Dimple and the merchant and what was the plan of Pooja ?
As Priyanka leaned in, eager to hear more from Bala, he raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "Hold your horses, Priyanka," he said, his voice low but firm. "Before we delve any further into this, we need to gather more information. Specifically, about Nayanthara."
As Bala suggested inquiring about Nayanthara, Priyanka's mind flashed back to the eerie ritual she had witnessed the previous night. She remembered seeing Nayanthara's imposing figure overseeing the proceedings, her presence commanding both respect and fear from the villagers. With a solemn nod, Priyanka turned to Bala, her eyes reflecting determination. "You're right, Bala. Nayanthara may hold the answers we seek," Priyanka agreed, her voice firm despite the lingering sense of apprehension. "I saw her there last night, amidst the ritual. She seemed... different somehow, as if she held a deeper understanding of what was happening."
Bala's gaze met hers, his expression grave. "We must tread carefully, Priyanka," he warned, his voice tinged with concern. "Nayanthara is a formidable figure in this village, and delving into matters that concern her may attract unwanted attention." Priyanka nodded, acknowledging the gravity of Bala's words. "I understand," she replied, her resolve unwavering. "But we can't ignore the truth, Bala. Whatever secrets Nayanthara is hiding, we need to uncover them—for the sake of this village and its people."
With a shared understanding and a shared sense of purpose, Priyanka and Bala set off towards Nayanthara's mansion, their footsteps resolute as they embarked on a journey that would test their courage and their convictions. And as they walked, the weight of the village's secrets hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of Yakshinpur.
Chapter 5 : The Bungalow
Night sky engulfed the whole village ask the duo made their way to Nayanthara's new bungalow.They circled the bungalow and found a abandoned shed near to a window. Bala suggested that this might be the bedroom of Nayanthara. As Priyanka and Bala crouched behind the small shed, their breaths held in anticipation, they watched the window of Nayanthara's bedroom intently. The night enveloped them in its cloak of darkness, shrouding their movements as they remained hidden from view.
Suddenly, the faint glow of candlelight illuminated the window, casting eerie shadows across the room. Priyanka's heart quickened as she saw Nayanthara enter, her figure silhouetted against the soft light. But what truly caught her off guard was the presence of another woman by Nayanthara's side, accompanied by a mysterious male figure. The candlelight fell upon the figures, Bala immediately recognized the woman to be Trisha the bungalow's cook and maid while the man was Sonu, Nayanthara's most trusted and loyal servant.
Nayanthara reclined upon her bed, a saree as radiant as the sunset that kissed her skin. Her anklets jingled with each movement, a subtle reminder of the power she held over the hearts of men. Sonu, her ever-faithful servant, stood at the bedside, a look of reverent desire in his eyes. Trisha, his wife stood behind him, her saree clinging to her curves, her eyes reflecting the same smoldering longing.
Without a word, Nayanthara beckoned Sonu closer with a crook of her finger. He stepped forward, his knees grazing the edge of the bed. Trisha approached as well, her movements mechanical, her mind consumed by the scenario that was unfolding before her. Nayanthara's saree slipped from her shoulders, revealing milky-white skin that invites exploration. Sonu's hands trembled as they reached out to touch her, his fingers tracing the outline of her collarbone. Trisha stood by, watching, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Touch me, Sonu. Show me your devotion," Nayanthara whispered, her voice a sensual caress. Sonu's hands moved with a will of their own, gliding down Nayanthara's chest, the fabric of her saree parting to reveal more of her supple flesh. His fingers brushed against the soft curves of her breasts, eliciting a shiver from her. Trisha stepped forward, her hands finding the hem of her own saree. With a steady hand, she began to unwind the fabric, allowing it to pool at her feet. She was bare beneath, her desire visible in the way she held herself.
"And you, Trisha. Join us. Show me your devotion as well," Nayanthara commanded. Trisha stepped forward, her body moving with a sinuous grace. She knelt beside the bed, her hands moving to the clasp of her blouse, the anticipation thick in the air. Priyanka, who accompanied Bala on his errand, pressed against him from behind, her eyes wide with fascination as she too took in the spectacle. Her T-shirt clung to her heaving breasts, her jeans struggling to contain her arousal.
Back inside, Trisha, revealing her full breasts. Sonu's eyes drank in the sight, a low groan escaping his lips. He reached out to touch Trisha, his hands trembling with want. Nayanthara's own hands strayed lower, her fingers dancing over the fabric of her saree, ready to reveal more of her secrets. The three stood there, a tableau of desire, the scent of lust mingling with the evening air. As the moon rose higher, its ethereal light casting a spell over the village, the bedroom door remained closed, the world outside forgotten. Inside, a feast of pleasure was just beginning.
Bala and Priyanka stood outside the bungalow, their eyes glued to the window. They could see Nayanthara's saree pooling at her feet, revealing her curves in all their glory.
They could see Sonu's hands roaming over her body, his fingers tracing the contours of her breasts. And they could see Trisha's blouse lying discarded on the floor, her breasts bared to the world. Bala and Priyanka were both entranced by the sight before them. Bala's cock was straining against his pants, aching for release. Priyanka's nipples were hard and her pussy was wet with desire. They couldn't take their eyes off the scene unfolding before them. Inside, Nayanthara was in control. She knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
She was the queen of this bedroom, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. Sonu and Trisha were her willing subjects, ready to do whatever she asked. They were both eager to please her, and she was going to make sure they did. She looked at Sonu and smiled. "Take off your clothes," she commanded.Sonu didn't hesitate. He quickly stripped off his clothes, revealing his hard cock. Nayanthara licked her lips as she took in the sight of him. She looked at Trisha and smiled again. She came close and placed her hand on the cock of Sonu and started to stroke it.
Trisha's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't say anything. She just watched as Nayanthara stroked Sonu's cock, her hand moving up and down his shaft with a steady rhythm. Nayanthara's eyes were locked on Trisha's, and she could see the desire in her eyes. She knew that Trisha wanted to touch Sonu too, but she was afraid to do it without her permission. "Go ahead, Trisha," Nayanthara said. "Touch him." Trisha didn't hesitate this time. She reached out and wrapped her hand around Sonu's cock, joining Nayanthara in stroking him.
The two women worked in tandem, their hands moving up and down his shaft in perfect sync. Sonu moaned with pleasure, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation of being touched by two beautiful women at once. Nayanthara broke the silence. "Do you want to taste him, Trisha?" she asked. "I do," Trisha replied, her voice husky with desire. She leaned forward and took Sonu's cock into her mouth, sucking on it eagerly. Nayanthara watched with a smile, her hand still stroking Sonu's cock.
"That's it, Trisha," she said. "Suck his cock like you mean it." Trisha moaned around Sonu's cock as she sucked him deeper into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she sucked him. Nayanthara continued to stroke his cock, her hand moving in time with Trisha's mouth.
The two women worked in perfect harmony, their combined efforts driving Sonu wild with pleasure. "Fuck her mouth, Sonu," Nayanthara said. "Give her what she wants." Sonu didn't need any more encouragement. He grabbed the back of Trisha's head and started to fuck her mouth, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth with ease. Trisha moaned around his cock, her hands on his thighs for support as he fucked her face. Sonus couldnt hold much longer and he exploded in her mouth. Nayanthara watched with a smile, her hand still stroking Sonu's cock as he came. "Swallow it, Trisha," she said. "Swallow his cum."
Trisha obeyed, swallowing every drop of Sonu's cum as he came in her mouth. She sucked him dry, her tongue lapping up the last drops of his cum. Nayanthara smiled at the sight of Trisha swallowing Sonu's cum.
"Good girl," she said. "Now it's my turn." She moved closer to Trisha and kissed her, their tongues tangling together as they shared the taste of Sonu's cum. Nayanthara broke the kiss and looked at Sonu. "Your turn, Sonu," she said. "Eat my pussy." Sonu didn't need any more encouragement. He moved between Nayanthar's legs and started to lick her pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of her wet folds. Nayanthara moaned with pleasure, her hands tangled in his hair as he ate her out. "That's it, Sonu," she said. "Eat my pussy like you mean it." Sonu obeyed, his tongue moving in and out of her pussy with ease. He licked her clit, sucking on it gently as she moaned with pleasure. Nayanthara's body shuddered with pleasure as Sonu ate her out.
She grabbed his head and held it in place as she came, her pussy gushing with juices. Sonu lapped up every drop of her cum, his tongue moving in and out of her pussy with ease.Nayanthara finally pushed him away, her body still trembling with pleasure. "That was amazing," she said. "Now it's your turn, Trisha." She looked at Trisha and smiled. "Suck my pussy clean."
Nayanthara finally pulled her pussy from Trisha's mouth and got off of her lap. She turned around so that she was facing Sonu. "Well?" she said. "Are you going to join us or not?" Sonu grinned. "I'd love to join you," he said. "But I've got something else planned first." He climbed onto the bed and lay on his back. He opened his legs wide and smiled at Nayanthara and Trisha.
"What do you want me to do, girls?" he asked. The two women looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. They weren't sure if he meant for them to eat each other or just fuck each other, but they decided to play along. Trisha sat up and slowly moved towards Sonu, lowering herself until her pussy was directly above his cock. She rubbed her pussy against his shaft, then stopped and moved away. "Did you come here to fuck us, Sonu?" she asked.
"Or what," he said. "Both?" Trisha nodded. "Okay," he said. "If you're both willing, then I'm willing." He put his hands behind his head and smiled at the two women. "Go ahead, have fun." Sonu's cock throbbed with excitement as Trisha slid her pussy down over his cock. She moaned as his thick cock entered her tight pussy. She started to ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock. Nayanthara reached under Trisha and caressed her breasts, squeezing her nipples between her fingers. "Oh yes!" Trisha exclaimed. "Fuck me! Fuck me good!"
Nayanthara squeezed Trisha's breasts harder, tweaking her nipples with her fingertips as Trisha bounced up and down on Sonu's cock. Sonu closed his eyes and thought about Nayanthara taking his cock deep inside her pussy. He imagined himself fucking her from behind, ramming his dick deep into her pussy. As he imagined it, he felt a warm liquid splash across his stomach. It splashed against his belly button, then trickled down towards his balls. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Nayanthara had sprayed his cock with her juices.
He groaned in delight. His cock twitched as he pictured himself sticking his cock in Nayanthara's tight ass. He thrust his hips up and down, trying to fuck Nayanthara with his imagination. He couldn't keep his imagination in check for long. Trisha wrapped her arms around Sonu's neck and started grinding her pussy against his cock, riding him as fast as she could. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she rode him, driving his cock even deeper into her pussy.
Sonu grunted as he felt his balls tighten. He knew that he was about to cum, but he didn't want to cum yet. He wanted to savor the feeling of fucking Nayanthara's pussy for a little longer. He pushed Trisha off of him and rolled over onto his back. He looked up at Nayanthara and smiled. "I want to fuck you, Nayanthara," he said. "But I don't want to cum yet." Nayanthara nodded. "Okay," she said. "I'll let you fuck me, but I want to be on top." Sonu lay back and spread his legs wide. He reached down and grabbed Nayanthara's hips, pulling her closer to him.
He pulled her down onto his cock, impaling her on his hard shaft. She moaned as she felt him enter her pussy. She started to ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock.She reached behind her and grabbed his balls, squeezing them gently as she rode him. Sonu groaned in pleasure. He closed his eyes and thought about Nayanthara's pussy tightening around his cock. he kept fucking Nayanthara ,his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. He could feel her juices coating his cock as he fucked her. He could feel the heat radiating from her pussy as she rode him harder and faster.
He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock as she came closer and closer to cumming. He could feel the pressure building in his balls as he fucked her harder and faster.
He could feel the cum building in his balls as he fucked her harder and faster. He could feel the cum exploding from his cock as he came inside her pussy. He opened his eyes and looked at Nayanthara's face. She was panting heavily, her eyes closed as she rode him harder and faster. He could feel the cum dripping down his cock as he fucked her harder and faster. Nayanthara stopped and kept on panting. Outside the bungalow, Bala cock was pressing against his dhoti, while Priyanka panties were soaked with her pussy juices as they kept watching the scenes happening in front of them.
Sonu was still inside Nayanthara's pussy, his cock throbbing with excitement as he watched her cumming. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them gently as she came down from her orgasmic high. He kissed her neck and whispered in her ear. "I love you, Nayanthara," he said. "I'll always love you." Nayanthara smiled at him and kissed him back. She pulled away from him and rolled off of his cock. Trisha came close to Nyanthara's pussy and lapped up dripping Sonu's cum
from her pussy. "Mmmm," she moaned.
"That tastes so good." Nayanthara smiled at her and said, "You're welcome to have more if you want." Trisha nodded and went back to licking Nayanthara's pussy clean of cum. Sonu watched as Trisha licked up his cum from Nayanthara's pussy. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have two women who were so willing to please him.
Night sky engulfed the whole village ask the duo made their way to Nayanthara's new bungalow.They circled the bungalow and found a abandoned shed near to a window. Bala suggested that this might be the bedroom of Nayanthara. As Priyanka and Bala crouched behind the small shed, their breaths held in anticipation, they watched the window of Nayanthara's bedroom intently. The night enveloped them in its cloak of darkness, shrouding their movements as they remained hidden from view.
Suddenly, the faint glow of candlelight illuminated the window, casting eerie shadows across the room. Priyanka's heart quickened as she saw Nayanthara enter, her figure silhouetted against the soft light. But what truly caught her off guard was the presence of another woman by Nayanthara's side, accompanied by a mysterious male figure. The candlelight fell upon the figures, Bala immediately recognized the woman to be Trisha the bungalow's cook and maid while the man was Sonu, Nayanthara's most trusted and loyal servant.
Nayanthara reclined upon her bed, a saree as radiant as the sunset that kissed her skin. Her anklets jingled with each movement, a subtle reminder of the power she held over the hearts of men. Sonu, her ever-faithful servant, stood at the bedside, a look of reverent desire in his eyes. Trisha, his wife stood behind him, her saree clinging to her curves, her eyes reflecting the same smoldering longing.
Without a word, Nayanthara beckoned Sonu closer with a crook of her finger. He stepped forward, his knees grazing the edge of the bed. Trisha approached as well, her movements mechanical, her mind consumed by the scenario that was unfolding before her. Nayanthara's saree slipped from her shoulders, revealing milky-white skin that invites exploration. Sonu's hands trembled as they reached out to touch her, his fingers tracing the outline of her collarbone. Trisha stood by, watching, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Touch me, Sonu. Show me your devotion," Nayanthara whispered, her voice a sensual caress. Sonu's hands moved with a will of their own, gliding down Nayanthara's chest, the fabric of her saree parting to reveal more of her supple flesh. His fingers brushed against the soft curves of her breasts, eliciting a shiver from her. Trisha stepped forward, her hands finding the hem of her own saree. With a steady hand, she began to unwind the fabric, allowing it to pool at her feet. She was bare beneath, her desire visible in the way she held herself.
"And you, Trisha. Join us. Show me your devotion as well," Nayanthara commanded. Trisha stepped forward, her body moving with a sinuous grace. She knelt beside the bed, her hands moving to the clasp of her blouse, the anticipation thick in the air. Priyanka, who accompanied Bala on his errand, pressed against him from behind, her eyes wide with fascination as she too took in the spectacle. Her T-shirt clung to her heaving breasts, her jeans struggling to contain her arousal.
Back inside, Trisha, revealing her full breasts. Sonu's eyes drank in the sight, a low groan escaping his lips. He reached out to touch Trisha, his hands trembling with want. Nayanthara's own hands strayed lower, her fingers dancing over the fabric of her saree, ready to reveal more of her secrets. The three stood there, a tableau of desire, the scent of lust mingling with the evening air. As the moon rose higher, its ethereal light casting a spell over the village, the bedroom door remained closed, the world outside forgotten. Inside, a feast of pleasure was just beginning.
Bala and Priyanka stood outside the bungalow, their eyes glued to the window. They could see Nayanthara's saree pooling at her feet, revealing her curves in all their glory.
They could see Sonu's hands roaming over her body, his fingers tracing the contours of her breasts. And they could see Trisha's blouse lying discarded on the floor, her breasts bared to the world. Bala and Priyanka were both entranced by the sight before them. Bala's cock was straining against his pants, aching for release. Priyanka's nipples were hard and her pussy was wet with desire. They couldn't take their eyes off the scene unfolding before them. Inside, Nayanthara was in control. She knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
She was the queen of this bedroom, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. Sonu and Trisha were her willing subjects, ready to do whatever she asked. They were both eager to please her, and she was going to make sure they did. She looked at Sonu and smiled. "Take off your clothes," she commanded.Sonu didn't hesitate. He quickly stripped off his clothes, revealing his hard cock. Nayanthara licked her lips as she took in the sight of him. She looked at Trisha and smiled again. She came close and placed her hand on the cock of Sonu and started to stroke it.
Trisha's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't say anything. She just watched as Nayanthara stroked Sonu's cock, her hand moving up and down his shaft with a steady rhythm. Nayanthara's eyes were locked on Trisha's, and she could see the desire in her eyes. She knew that Trisha wanted to touch Sonu too, but she was afraid to do it without her permission. "Go ahead, Trisha," Nayanthara said. "Touch him." Trisha didn't hesitate this time. She reached out and wrapped her hand around Sonu's cock, joining Nayanthara in stroking him.
The two women worked in tandem, their hands moving up and down his shaft in perfect sync. Sonu moaned with pleasure, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation of being touched by two beautiful women at once. Nayanthara broke the silence. "Do you want to taste him, Trisha?" she asked. "I do," Trisha replied, her voice husky with desire. She leaned forward and took Sonu's cock into her mouth, sucking on it eagerly. Nayanthara watched with a smile, her hand still stroking Sonu's cock.
"That's it, Trisha," she said. "Suck his cock like you mean it." Trisha moaned around Sonu's cock as she sucked him deeper into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, her tongue swirling around his shaft as she sucked him. Nayanthara continued to stroke his cock, her hand moving in time with Trisha's mouth.
The two women worked in perfect harmony, their combined efforts driving Sonu wild with pleasure. "Fuck her mouth, Sonu," Nayanthara said. "Give her what she wants." Sonu didn't need any more encouragement. He grabbed the back of Trisha's head and started to fuck her mouth, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth with ease. Trisha moaned around his cock, her hands on his thighs for support as he fucked her face. Sonus couldnt hold much longer and he exploded in her mouth. Nayanthara watched with a smile, her hand still stroking Sonu's cock as he came. "Swallow it, Trisha," she said. "Swallow his cum."
Trisha obeyed, swallowing every drop of Sonu's cum as he came in her mouth. She sucked him dry, her tongue lapping up the last drops of his cum. Nayanthara smiled at the sight of Trisha swallowing Sonu's cum.
"Good girl," she said. "Now it's my turn." She moved closer to Trisha and kissed her, their tongues tangling together as they shared the taste of Sonu's cum. Nayanthara broke the kiss and looked at Sonu. "Your turn, Sonu," she said. "Eat my pussy." Sonu didn't need any more encouragement. He moved between Nayanthar's legs and started to lick her pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of her wet folds. Nayanthara moaned with pleasure, her hands tangled in his hair as he ate her out. "That's it, Sonu," she said. "Eat my pussy like you mean it." Sonu obeyed, his tongue moving in and out of her pussy with ease. He licked her clit, sucking on it gently as she moaned with pleasure. Nayanthara's body shuddered with pleasure as Sonu ate her out.
She grabbed his head and held it in place as she came, her pussy gushing with juices. Sonu lapped up every drop of her cum, his tongue moving in and out of her pussy with ease.Nayanthara finally pushed him away, her body still trembling with pleasure. "That was amazing," she said. "Now it's your turn, Trisha." She looked at Trisha and smiled. "Suck my pussy clean."
Nayanthara finally pulled her pussy from Trisha's mouth and got off of her lap. She turned around so that she was facing Sonu. "Well?" she said. "Are you going to join us or not?" Sonu grinned. "I'd love to join you," he said. "But I've got something else planned first." He climbed onto the bed and lay on his back. He opened his legs wide and smiled at Nayanthara and Trisha.
"What do you want me to do, girls?" he asked. The two women looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. They weren't sure if he meant for them to eat each other or just fuck each other, but they decided to play along. Trisha sat up and slowly moved towards Sonu, lowering herself until her pussy was directly above his cock. She rubbed her pussy against his shaft, then stopped and moved away. "Did you come here to fuck us, Sonu?" she asked.
"Or what," he said. "Both?" Trisha nodded. "Okay," he said. "If you're both willing, then I'm willing." He put his hands behind his head and smiled at the two women. "Go ahead, have fun." Sonu's cock throbbed with excitement as Trisha slid her pussy down over his cock. She moaned as his thick cock entered her tight pussy. She started to ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock. Nayanthara reached under Trisha and caressed her breasts, squeezing her nipples between her fingers. "Oh yes!" Trisha exclaimed. "Fuck me! Fuck me good!"
Nayanthara squeezed Trisha's breasts harder, tweaking her nipples with her fingertips as Trisha bounced up and down on Sonu's cock. Sonu closed his eyes and thought about Nayanthara taking his cock deep inside her pussy. He imagined himself fucking her from behind, ramming his dick deep into her pussy. As he imagined it, he felt a warm liquid splash across his stomach. It splashed against his belly button, then trickled down towards his balls. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Nayanthara had sprayed his cock with her juices.
He groaned in delight. His cock twitched as he pictured himself sticking his cock in Nayanthara's tight ass. He thrust his hips up and down, trying to fuck Nayanthara with his imagination. He couldn't keep his imagination in check for long. Trisha wrapped her arms around Sonu's neck and started grinding her pussy against his cock, riding him as fast as she could. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she rode him, driving his cock even deeper into her pussy.
Sonu grunted as he felt his balls tighten. He knew that he was about to cum, but he didn't want to cum yet. He wanted to savor the feeling of fucking Nayanthara's pussy for a little longer. He pushed Trisha off of him and rolled over onto his back. He looked up at Nayanthara and smiled. "I want to fuck you, Nayanthara," he said. "But I don't want to cum yet." Nayanthara nodded. "Okay," she said. "I'll let you fuck me, but I want to be on top." Sonu lay back and spread his legs wide. He reached down and grabbed Nayanthara's hips, pulling her closer to him.
He pulled her down onto his cock, impaling her on his hard shaft. She moaned as she felt him enter her pussy. She started to ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock.She reached behind her and grabbed his balls, squeezing them gently as she rode him. Sonu groaned in pleasure. He closed his eyes and thought about Nayanthara's pussy tightening around his cock. he kept fucking Nayanthara ,his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. He could feel her juices coating his cock as he fucked her. He could feel the heat radiating from her pussy as she rode him harder and faster.
He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock as she came closer and closer to cumming. He could feel the pressure building in his balls as he fucked her harder and faster.
He could feel the cum building in his balls as he fucked her harder and faster. He could feel the cum exploding from his cock as he came inside her pussy. He opened his eyes and looked at Nayanthara's face. She was panting heavily, her eyes closed as she rode him harder and faster. He could feel the cum dripping down his cock as he fucked her harder and faster. Nayanthara stopped and kept on panting. Outside the bungalow, Bala cock was pressing against his dhoti, while Priyanka panties were soaked with her pussy juices as they kept watching the scenes happening in front of them.
Sonu was still inside Nayanthara's pussy, his cock throbbing with excitement as he watched her cumming. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them gently as she came down from her orgasmic high. He kissed her neck and whispered in her ear. "I love you, Nayanthara," he said. "I'll always love you." Nayanthara smiled at him and kissed him back. She pulled away from him and rolled off of his cock. Trisha came close to Nyanthara's pussy and lapped up dripping Sonu's cum
from her pussy. "Mmmm," she moaned.
"That tastes so good." Nayanthara smiled at her and said, "You're welcome to have more if you want." Trisha nodded and went back to licking Nayanthara's pussy clean of cum. Sonu watched as Trisha licked up his cum from Nayanthara's pussy. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have two women who were so willing to please him.
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Kukogam : The Beginning
In the ancient South Indian village, a unique aroma floated in the humid air, a concoction of delectable spices, ripe fruits, and the pungent coolness left behind by the seasonal monsoon. Under the shade of swaying coconut palms, modest clay houses dotted the fertile land, each with their yards filled with chickens scratching the earth, babies gurgling, and females in vibrant sarees cracking jokes as they worked together outside. The village pulsed with life, like the heartbeat of the mother goddess herself.
Murali, a young Brahmin with an innocent and gentle demeanor, stood out among the majority of villagers. Despite his meekness, his strong sense of honor and morals made him a respected and admired figure in his small society. The day he was to be married to the beautiful and naive Keerthy Suresh was rapidly approaching.
The big day dawned bright and sunny, as if the gods themselves were smiling down upon the couple. Keerthy, dressed in a magnificent red sari and her hair adorned with fragrant jasmine flowers, looked every bit the picture-perfect Indian bride. Their wedding ceremony had been a lengthy and elaborate affair, with lavish gifts exchanged between families, long prayers whispered in an ancient and melodious tongue, steadfast vows, intricate henna patterns, and their foreheads marked with auspicious red dots.
Under the expert guidance of their elders, Murali and Keerthy had dutifully carried out all the traditional steps of the ceremony. During the seven steps around the sacred fire, they pledged to be life partners, their every breath entwined in loyalty, trust, and love.
Yet, as night fell upon the newlyweds, they both felt the pressure of their wedding night. Inside their clay house, a small oil lamp flickered, casting dancing shadows on the newlywed's faces. Soft, traditional wedding music could be heard from the neighboring yards.
Kneeling before each other, the couple hesitates, unsure of what to do next. Murali, still a virgin, felt a surge of anxiety to live up to his husband duties. His heart raced, feeling clammy hands, sweat trickling down his spine. Their awkwardness was palpable, thicker than the scent of jasmine in the room. Bashfully, Keerthy lowered her gaze, a mixture of shyness and curiosity warring on her face, but a certain glint in her dark eyes showed that she too wondered about the intimate acts to come.
"M-Murali, I-I don't know what to do," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words broke the tense silence, and Murali couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. The pressure to perform on their wedding night was overwhelming, and he knew he couldn't let his fear and inexperience hold them back. "Shh, it's alright," he replied, taking her hand in his. "Let's just take it slow, one step at a time."
Murali leaned in, pressing his lips gently against Keerthy's. The kiss, at first light and tentative, slowly deepened with their growing passion.
His hand slid from her hand to the nape of her neck, his fingers gently weaving through the loose tendrils of her hair. Together, they began to slowly undress each other.
Murali couldn't help but marvel at Keerthy's bare chest, her smooth skin shimmering in the soft lamplight. As he lowered his head to take her nipple into his mouth, she let out a soft moan. Encouraged, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, causing her to gasp and quiver beneath him. "Oh, Murali," she murmured whilst sweeping her fingers through his hair, gripping him to her breast.
Her body was heating under his touch and the lustful longing in her eyes could no longer be contained as she mewed in anticipation. Underneath his loin cloth, his engorged member throbbed, aching to plunder her pristine, moist valley. Meanwhile, Keerthy's hands explored his muscular back as they lowered themselves onto their mat, their breaths mingling and quickening. "What now, my husband?" she asked, her voice thick with lust.
He grinned and replied, "Patience, my sweet. I'll guide you through the pleasures of the flesh." Slowly, he began to touch her, running his fingers through her silky, wet folds. In response, she threw her head back and moaned, her hips bucking and grinding against his hand. He teased her with his fingers, rubbing her swollen clit while occasionally plunging two fingers deep inside her.
"Fuck, Murli, don't stop," she pleaded, pulling him closer by the back of his head. Feeling empowered, he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving her ever closer to the edge of her climax. Her breaths came hot and heavy against his ear, her body trembling in anticipation. "Come for me, my darling," he whispered, his voice husky and thick with need.
And with a final thrust of his fingers and a gentle nip on her earlobe, Keerthy cried out in ecstasy as her body shuddered and convulsed beneath him. But Murali wasn't done yet, not by a long shot.
Now, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he climbed atop her and lined up his throbbing cock with her slick entrance. The anticipation was palpable, and Keerthy whimpered in need.With a final, powerful thrust, Keerthy's entire body tensed, her back bowing as the orgasm tore through her, wave after wave. She called out his name, her voice echoing in the small clay house. "Murali! Oh, Murali!"
As the last tremors of her climax subsided, she collapsed against the mat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. "Fuck, that was amazing," she murmured. Murali couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, relief, and sheer satisfaction from pleasuring his new wife. His feelings triumphantly surged when he saw the dopey smile adorning her face.
Breathlessly, Keerthy pushed her hands through her tousled hair and glanced up at him. "Again," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire. Murali's restraint snapped, his cock twitched and throbbed in anticipation. Unable to resist his burning desire, he grabbed his shaft and guided it to Keerthy's slick entrance. "Here we go, my love," he grunted and thrust forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt.
With one, swift movement, he filled her completely. They both gasped at the sensation – him, from the tightness of her quivering channel, and her from the exquisite pleasure-pain of his invasion. The first few thrusts were slow and steady, as if Murali wanted to savor every inch of her velvety depths. However, the primal desire that had taken hold of him made it impossible to maintain such control.
"Fuucck, Keerthy, you're so fucking tight," Murali groaned, the muscles in his back and ass tightening every time he buried himself deep inside her. She gasped, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his arms as he plunged in and out of her, the sounds of their bodies slapping together, mingling with their heavy breathing and moans.
With every thrust, Murali felt as though he were losing control. He started to pound her more relentlessly, the force of his hips driving the air from her lungs and her tits bouncing wildly.
The feeling of him filling her, stretching her, became almost overwhelming, primal and base. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he continued to plunder her in a frenzy of lust. "Oh fuck, harder, Murali, harder!" she screamed.
Her pleas spurred him on, and he gave her exactly what she wanted. With each powerful thrust, the mat beneath them squeaked as their sweaty bodies slapped together. The clay walls of their home echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking, intensifying their primal lust.
"oh Keerthy I'm going to cum" Murali cried out as his hips lost their rhythm, his cock buried deep inside her. His seed erupted with such force that each spurt felt as if it could drain him of all strength. Keerthy welcomed his load, her pussy rippling around him, milking him of every last drop.
He collapsed onto her heaving chest, his lips devouring hers in a fierce kiss."Cum inside me again, Murli," she pleaded, locking her legs tightly around his hips. He responded by pulling out just long enough to admire the mess he made. Her pussy glistened, swollen from their lovemaking, and his cum dripped out of her, leaving a trail that blended with her sweat and desire.
"Like what you see?" she asked, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
Murali nodded fervently, unable to form a coherent response. He returned his gaze to her beautiful face and leaned down, so his lips hovered just above hers.
"I love you, Keerthy."
"I love you too, Murali," she whispered back.
Their bodies lay tangled together, basking in the afterglow of their raw and intense lovemaking.
The dawn broke, and the roosters began to crow. With the break of daylight, reality set in for Murali. His face turned a deep shade of red as he recalled the events of the previous night and the morning. He had sex until the morning, and now it was time to face his parents.
After sharing a quick, satisfied smile with Keerthy, Murali reluctantly disentangled himself from her and got dressed. The smell of incense filled the air as he performed his morning ablutions and prepared for his routine job of offering prayers in the nearby temple. Keerthy, on the other hand, helped her mother-in-law with the household chores, her heart still filled with the warmth and contentment of the night before.
She couldn't help but blush every time she remembered the way Murali's hands explored her body, the way he filled her completely, the way he made her moan and writhe beneath him. She couldn't get enough of him, and the thought of spending the rest of her life with him filled her with joy and excitement.
As the days passed, Murali and Keerthy grew closer and closer, each day discovering new ways to satisfy each other's desires. Their bodies fit perfectly together, and the passion between them only grew stronger.
Every night, Murali claimed Keerthy with a ferocity that took her breath away. He introduced her to a world of unbridled pleasure, her body trembling and sensitive beneath his knowing touch.
Murali would whisper obscene words of praise into her ear as he entered her. Each stroke brought forth moans of ecstasy that reverberated within the walls of their modest clay dwelling. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Keerthy," Murali growled low in her ear. Their bodies moved in sync on the woven mat to the sound of their own heavy breathing. The smell of sweat, lust, and incense hung heavy in the air.
Murali's rough hands explored every inch of Keerthy's body. His fingertips left fiery trails as they traced the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He squeezed her ass, pulling her even closer to him as he thrust deeper inside her. Keerthy's nails dug into his back as she met his every thrust.
Her body arched in response to his carnal onslaught, a symphony of sighs and moans spilling from her lips. She reveled in the feeling of him deep inside her, awakening a hunger for more. Murali's stamina was unmatched, his hips moving at a rapid pace as he drove himself deeper and deeper within her. The oil lamp flickered, casting shadows of dancing flames around their intertwined forms.
"My sweet Keerthy, you drive me mad with desire," Murali murmured in a low voice. He pressed his lips to the pulse beating in her throat as his hands gripped her hips, allowing him to thrust deeper within her. Their moans filled the small clay house, mixing with the sighs of the wind rustling through the palm fronds outside and the distant chants of the temple priests.
Through the euphoria of their lovemaking, a stranger entered the periphery of Murali and Keerthy's world. He was a magnetic, enigmatic figure who traversed the exotic lands of Kashi.
From the whispers of the village women to the murmured conjectures exchanged amongst elderly heads gathered under the shade of the banyan tree, the talk of this man spread like wildfire.
This strange man was a traveler on a unique spiritual journey. He would occasionally make appearances in the village, mesmerizing all with his deep-set grey eyes and his casually magnetic demeanor. However, this was not the sole reason for his sudden stardom within the village.
No, there was another factor that made him irresistible. He was no other than the esteemed Guru Aiyyappan from Kashi, a man renowned for his mastery in Tantric sexual practices. It was said that one visit to his establishment would ignite a fire within a woman's soul that would remain forever unquenchable.
This mysterious guru, Aiyyappan, had taken an extraordinary interest in Murali's journey. During one of his visits, he had sat with Murali near the temple and shared stories of Kashi, the holy city filled with wisdom and spiritual awakening. Aiyyappan spoke so vividly of the city on the banks of river Ganga that Murali felt a yearning to visit it someday. The guru also shared cryptic teachings, making them sound like puzzles waiting to be unraveled.
"Sex is not merely an act of physical pleasure. It is a union of souls. When you explore a woman's body, remember that you are not only touching flesh but diving into her essence," he imparted.
Murali listened, enraptured, as the guru weaved tantalizing tales of heightened pleasure and divine insight through the tantric arts. A spark flickered within him, one that couldn't be ignored. He wanted to unravel the mystery - to know what it truly meant to be one with a lover. So when Aiyyappan made a startling proposition - that Murali accompany him to Kashi and learn the art of erotic and sensual teachings - Murali's curiosity overpowered him.
He glanced at Keerthy, her beautiful, trusting brown eyes staring back at him without judgment or suspicion. He was torn. How could he pursue this offer without betraying his young, adoring wife? When he expressed his hesitation to Aiyyappan, the guru admonished him gently.
In the ancient South Indian village, a unique aroma floated in the humid air, a concoction of delectable spices, ripe fruits, and the pungent coolness left behind by the seasonal monsoon. Under the shade of swaying coconut palms, modest clay houses dotted the fertile land, each with their yards filled with chickens scratching the earth, babies gurgling, and females in vibrant sarees cracking jokes as they worked together outside. The village pulsed with life, like the heartbeat of the mother goddess herself.
Murali, a young Brahmin with an innocent and gentle demeanor, stood out among the majority of villagers. Despite his meekness, his strong sense of honor and morals made him a respected and admired figure in his small society. The day he was to be married to the beautiful and naive Keerthy Suresh was rapidly approaching.
The big day dawned bright and sunny, as if the gods themselves were smiling down upon the couple. Keerthy, dressed in a magnificent red sari and her hair adorned with fragrant jasmine flowers, looked every bit the picture-perfect Indian bride. Their wedding ceremony had been a lengthy and elaborate affair, with lavish gifts exchanged between families, long prayers whispered in an ancient and melodious tongue, steadfast vows, intricate henna patterns, and their foreheads marked with auspicious red dots.
Under the expert guidance of their elders, Murali and Keerthy had dutifully carried out all the traditional steps of the ceremony. During the seven steps around the sacred fire, they pledged to be life partners, their every breath entwined in loyalty, trust, and love.
Yet, as night fell upon the newlyweds, they both felt the pressure of their wedding night. Inside their clay house, a small oil lamp flickered, casting dancing shadows on the newlywed's faces. Soft, traditional wedding music could be heard from the neighboring yards.
Kneeling before each other, the couple hesitates, unsure of what to do next. Murali, still a virgin, felt a surge of anxiety to live up to his husband duties. His heart raced, feeling clammy hands, sweat trickling down his spine. Their awkwardness was palpable, thicker than the scent of jasmine in the room. Bashfully, Keerthy lowered her gaze, a mixture of shyness and curiosity warring on her face, but a certain glint in her dark eyes showed that she too wondered about the intimate acts to come.
"M-Murali, I-I don't know what to do," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words broke the tense silence, and Murali couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. The pressure to perform on their wedding night was overwhelming, and he knew he couldn't let his fear and inexperience hold them back. "Shh, it's alright," he replied, taking her hand in his. "Let's just take it slow, one step at a time."
Murali leaned in, pressing his lips gently against Keerthy's. The kiss, at first light and tentative, slowly deepened with their growing passion.
His hand slid from her hand to the nape of her neck, his fingers gently weaving through the loose tendrils of her hair. Together, they began to slowly undress each other.
Murali couldn't help but marvel at Keerthy's bare chest, her smooth skin shimmering in the soft lamplight. As he lowered his head to take her nipple into his mouth, she let out a soft moan. Encouraged, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, causing her to gasp and quiver beneath him. "Oh, Murali," she murmured whilst sweeping her fingers through his hair, gripping him to her breast.
Her body was heating under his touch and the lustful longing in her eyes could no longer be contained as she mewed in anticipation. Underneath his loin cloth, his engorged member throbbed, aching to plunder her pristine, moist valley. Meanwhile, Keerthy's hands explored his muscular back as they lowered themselves onto their mat, their breaths mingling and quickening. "What now, my husband?" she asked, her voice thick with lust.
He grinned and replied, "Patience, my sweet. I'll guide you through the pleasures of the flesh." Slowly, he began to touch her, running his fingers through her silky, wet folds. In response, she threw her head back and moaned, her hips bucking and grinding against his hand. He teased her with his fingers, rubbing her swollen clit while occasionally plunging two fingers deep inside her.
"Fuck, Murli, don't stop," she pleaded, pulling him closer by the back of his head. Feeling empowered, he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving her ever closer to the edge of her climax. Her breaths came hot and heavy against his ear, her body trembling in anticipation. "Come for me, my darling," he whispered, his voice husky and thick with need.
And with a final thrust of his fingers and a gentle nip on her earlobe, Keerthy cried out in ecstasy as her body shuddered and convulsed beneath him. But Murali wasn't done yet, not by a long shot.
Now, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he climbed atop her and lined up his throbbing cock with her slick entrance. The anticipation was palpable, and Keerthy whimpered in need.With a final, powerful thrust, Keerthy's entire body tensed, her back bowing as the orgasm tore through her, wave after wave. She called out his name, her voice echoing in the small clay house. "Murali! Oh, Murali!"
As the last tremors of her climax subsided, she collapsed against the mat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. "Fuck, that was amazing," she murmured. Murali couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, relief, and sheer satisfaction from pleasuring his new wife. His feelings triumphantly surged when he saw the dopey smile adorning her face.
Breathlessly, Keerthy pushed her hands through her tousled hair and glanced up at him. "Again," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire. Murali's restraint snapped, his cock twitched and throbbed in anticipation. Unable to resist his burning desire, he grabbed his shaft and guided it to Keerthy's slick entrance. "Here we go, my love," he grunted and thrust forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt.
With one, swift movement, he filled her completely. They both gasped at the sensation – him, from the tightness of her quivering channel, and her from the exquisite pleasure-pain of his invasion. The first few thrusts were slow and steady, as if Murali wanted to savor every inch of her velvety depths. However, the primal desire that had taken hold of him made it impossible to maintain such control.
"Fuucck, Keerthy, you're so fucking tight," Murali groaned, the muscles in his back and ass tightening every time he buried himself deep inside her. She gasped, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his arms as he plunged in and out of her, the sounds of their bodies slapping together, mingling with their heavy breathing and moans.
With every thrust, Murali felt as though he were losing control. He started to pound her more relentlessly, the force of his hips driving the air from her lungs and her tits bouncing wildly.
The feeling of him filling her, stretching her, became almost overwhelming, primal and base. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he continued to plunder her in a frenzy of lust. "Oh fuck, harder, Murali, harder!" she screamed.
Her pleas spurred him on, and he gave her exactly what she wanted. With each powerful thrust, the mat beneath them squeaked as their sweaty bodies slapped together. The clay walls of their home echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking, intensifying their primal lust.
"oh Keerthy I'm going to cum" Murali cried out as his hips lost their rhythm, his cock buried deep inside her. His seed erupted with such force that each spurt felt as if it could drain him of all strength. Keerthy welcomed his load, her pussy rippling around him, milking him of every last drop.
He collapsed onto her heaving chest, his lips devouring hers in a fierce kiss."Cum inside me again, Murli," she pleaded, locking her legs tightly around his hips. He responded by pulling out just long enough to admire the mess he made. Her pussy glistened, swollen from their lovemaking, and his cum dripped out of her, leaving a trail that blended with her sweat and desire.
"Like what you see?" she asked, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
Murali nodded fervently, unable to form a coherent response. He returned his gaze to her beautiful face and leaned down, so his lips hovered just above hers.
"I love you, Keerthy."
"I love you too, Murali," she whispered back.
Their bodies lay tangled together, basking in the afterglow of their raw and intense lovemaking.
The dawn broke, and the roosters began to crow. With the break of daylight, reality set in for Murali. His face turned a deep shade of red as he recalled the events of the previous night and the morning. He had sex until the morning, and now it was time to face his parents.
After sharing a quick, satisfied smile with Keerthy, Murali reluctantly disentangled himself from her and got dressed. The smell of incense filled the air as he performed his morning ablutions and prepared for his routine job of offering prayers in the nearby temple. Keerthy, on the other hand, helped her mother-in-law with the household chores, her heart still filled with the warmth and contentment of the night before.
She couldn't help but blush every time she remembered the way Murali's hands explored her body, the way he filled her completely, the way he made her moan and writhe beneath him. She couldn't get enough of him, and the thought of spending the rest of her life with him filled her with joy and excitement.
As the days passed, Murali and Keerthy grew closer and closer, each day discovering new ways to satisfy each other's desires. Their bodies fit perfectly together, and the passion between them only grew stronger.
Every night, Murali claimed Keerthy with a ferocity that took her breath away. He introduced her to a world of unbridled pleasure, her body trembling and sensitive beneath his knowing touch.
Murali would whisper obscene words of praise into her ear as he entered her. Each stroke brought forth moans of ecstasy that reverberated within the walls of their modest clay dwelling. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Keerthy," Murali growled low in her ear. Their bodies moved in sync on the woven mat to the sound of their own heavy breathing. The smell of sweat, lust, and incense hung heavy in the air.
Murali's rough hands explored every inch of Keerthy's body. His fingertips left fiery trails as they traced the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He squeezed her ass, pulling her even closer to him as he thrust deeper inside her. Keerthy's nails dug into his back as she met his every thrust.
Her body arched in response to his carnal onslaught, a symphony of sighs and moans spilling from her lips. She reveled in the feeling of him deep inside her, awakening a hunger for more. Murali's stamina was unmatched, his hips moving at a rapid pace as he drove himself deeper and deeper within her. The oil lamp flickered, casting shadows of dancing flames around their intertwined forms.
"My sweet Keerthy, you drive me mad with desire," Murali murmured in a low voice. He pressed his lips to the pulse beating in her throat as his hands gripped her hips, allowing him to thrust deeper within her. Their moans filled the small clay house, mixing with the sighs of the wind rustling through the palm fronds outside and the distant chants of the temple priests.
Through the euphoria of their lovemaking, a stranger entered the periphery of Murali and Keerthy's world. He was a magnetic, enigmatic figure who traversed the exotic lands of Kashi.
From the whispers of the village women to the murmured conjectures exchanged amongst elderly heads gathered under the shade of the banyan tree, the talk of this man spread like wildfire.
This strange man was a traveler on a unique spiritual journey. He would occasionally make appearances in the village, mesmerizing all with his deep-set grey eyes and his casually magnetic demeanor. However, this was not the sole reason for his sudden stardom within the village.
No, there was another factor that made him irresistible. He was no other than the esteemed Guru Aiyyappan from Kashi, a man renowned for his mastery in Tantric sexual practices. It was said that one visit to his establishment would ignite a fire within a woman's soul that would remain forever unquenchable.
This mysterious guru, Aiyyappan, had taken an extraordinary interest in Murali's journey. During one of his visits, he had sat with Murali near the temple and shared stories of Kashi, the holy city filled with wisdom and spiritual awakening. Aiyyappan spoke so vividly of the city on the banks of river Ganga that Murali felt a yearning to visit it someday. The guru also shared cryptic teachings, making them sound like puzzles waiting to be unraveled.
"Sex is not merely an act of physical pleasure. It is a union of souls. When you explore a woman's body, remember that you are not only touching flesh but diving into her essence," he imparted.
Murali listened, enraptured, as the guru weaved tantalizing tales of heightened pleasure and divine insight through the tantric arts. A spark flickered within him, one that couldn't be ignored. He wanted to unravel the mystery - to know what it truly meant to be one with a lover. So when Aiyyappan made a startling proposition - that Murali accompany him to Kashi and learn the art of erotic and sensual teachings - Murali's curiosity overpowered him.
He glanced at Keerthy, her beautiful, trusting brown eyes staring back at him without judgment or suspicion. He was torn. How could he pursue this offer without betraying his young, adoring wife? When he expressed his hesitation to Aiyyappan, the guru admonished him gently.
Wow excellent updates bro
Continue the old story
NIce Story BRo ....
What About Old Story????....
What About Old Story????....