The sharp, insistent knocks echoed through the old storehouse, each thud a jolt to the charged atmosphere within. Miss Monika's stern voice pierced the silence, demanding, "Who's in there?" Panic erupted as Nisha, Sneha, Kavya, Riya, Ananya, and Joita scrambled to pull on their scattered clothes, their bodies still bearing the marks of Abir's relentless dominance. The crumpled bedsheet lay as a silent witness to the marathon that had just concluded.
Joita, adjusting her kurta, whispered urgently to Abir, "Who is this Monika?"
Abir's voice was low, tense. "She's a third-year student here. She holds the highest power in this college. Everybody listens to her. She's very strict about maintaining discipline. If she finds any rule-breaker, it's finished—direct expulsion."
Priya, her breath still ragged, nodded quickly. "Abir, you can't be seen with us together now. We girls will leave. You hide here. When she's gone, come to the classroom." Abir nodded, his heart pounding, and darted to a cramped closet, squeezing inside as the girls hurriedly composed themselves.
The six girls opened the door, facing Monika's imposing figure. She stood tall, her short, tousled hair framing a stern face, her athletic build evident even through her sweat-drenched attire. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her tone icy. Kavya, stepping forward with a forced smile, replied, "We were just playing truth or dare, ma'am."
Monika's eyes narrowed, but she relented with a warning. "This place is off-limits. Don't let me catch you here again." With a final glare, she let them go, the door closing behind them with a heavy thud.
Inside the closet, Abir held his breath, the muffled sound of the door signaling their departure. Assuming Monika had left, he eased out, only to freeze. Monika was still there, bent over a pile of crates, searching for something, her presence a sudden shock.
Monika was a vision of raw power and allure. Her short, tomboyish hair, damp with sweat, clung to her neck, accentuating her slightly taller frame—towering just above Abir. Her athletic physique was a masterpiece: broad shoulders, toned arms, and a curvy body that defied her stern demeanor. Her big breasts strained against a white t-shirt, soaked through from what seemed like a recent workout, the fabric turned sheer, revealing the outline of her pink innerwear—a bra that hugged her ample curves, the dampness tracing every contour. Her skin-tight black pants clung to her muscular thighs and rounded hips, the sweat glistening on her exposed midriff where the t-shirt rode up, a tantalizing glimpse of her taut abs.
Startled, Monika straightened, turning to face him. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice sharp. Abir swallowed, his voice unsteady. "I'm Abir, second year." Her eyes scanned him, her expression unreadable. "What were you doing in here?" Abir opened his mouth, fumbling for words, but nothing came out. Monika's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "So, you were playing truth or dare with those girls. I guess you chose dare—that's why you were in the closet. I know boys always try to impress girls. Don't overdo it. Well, I don't care as long as you don't have sex inside the college campus." Abir let out an awkward laugh, his nerves fraying under her gaze.
"What was your name again?" she asked, turning back to her search.
"Abir," he replied, his voice barely steady.
"Yes, Abir. I'm searching for something. Help me," she said, bending over a pile of crates, her movements fluid and commanding.
Abir followed, his eyes betraying him as they locked onto her form. The wet t-shirt clung to her back, the pink bra visible through the sheer fabric, her curves accentuated with every bend. Her big breasts swayed slightly, the dampness highlighting their fullness, while her tight pants outlined her muscular yet curvy hips, the sweat-traced midriff a beacon of desire. Each time she leaned to check a crate, her body became more irresistible—the way her breasts pressed forward, the arch of her back deepening, the flex of her thighs as she stretched, the subtle bounce of her curves as she shifted her weight. Her sweat-soaked t-shirt rode higher, exposing more of her toned abs, the pink bra peeking out, a tease that sent Abir's mind spiraling.
He followed her, his arousal growing with every step, his thoughts consumed by how badly he wanted her. He imagined pinning her against the crates, thrusting into her with brutal force, her big breasts bouncing against the wood, her screams echoing as he gripped her hips, the sweat-slicked fabric tearing under his hands. Lifting her leg high, choking her lightly as he slammed into her, her athletic body trembling, her pink bra exposed fully as he ripped the t-shirt away, her moans a mix of resistance and ecstasy. Then, pressing her against a shelf, one leg raised, penetrating deeply, her curvy hips jolting with each thrust, her pleas for mercy drowned by his relentless rhythm. His mind raced further—between shelves, her body squeezed tight, his thrusts punishing, her big breasts pressed flat, her screams begging for release. Then, her on all fours, him dominating from behind, her short hair gripped, her pants pulled down to reveal her sweat-glistened ass, each slam a claim of her body until she collapsed, exhausted.
Abir tried to shake the vivid fantasies, but his body betrayed him, an arousal surging as he realized his pants were unzipped, his manhood straining, threatening to escape. He couldn't zip up with Monika so close, her constant bending—each lean a torment, her breasts swaying, her hips arching—making it worse, fueling his erection to a painful edge. His hands hovered, helpless, as she rummaged, oblivious to his plight.
Finally, Monika turned to look the other way, and Abir seized the chance to zip up. But before he could, he noticed her tugging at something in the pile, the crates teetering dangerously. Instinct kicked in, he lunged forward, tackling her as the stack collapsed. Some cardboard boxes crashed onto him, but he shielded her.
The situation was electric. Monika lay on the floor, her breath quick, her sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging tighter, her pink bra now fully visible through the drenched fabric, her curvy body pressed beneath him. Abir, sprawled on top, felt his unzipped pants give way, his aroused manhood springing free, poised and ready. Then, a startling sensation hit him—his manhood was nestled in a soft, warm place. Confused, he moved to look down, but Monika's voice cut through, strange and strained, "Don… don't look down there." Abir froze, his mind racing. Why would she say that? And why in that way?
Then it dawned on him. Somehow, in the fall, Monika's tight pants had slid down, exposing the smooth, sweat-slicked skin of her thighs. His manhood was now sandwiched between them, the warmth and softness amplifying his arousal. To his shock, he felt it grow larger, throbbing against her flesh, the heat and pressure pushing him to the brink.